I wanna be a LEADER

Keke ^^

The band

After an emergency band meeting at Al-Azhaar last night, our multi-talented vocalist/guitarist/bassist-wannabe/drummer-wannabe found out that he had left his headlights on, and thus, drained his car batteries! But it was not a problem for our multi-talented waterpolo/polisman/safe driver/lead guitarist ivan and our demure/petite bassist/tank-commander/mother yu hui, along with designated photowhore/photographer/keyboardist/unable-to-be-a-driver charlotte chew, and as a result, the car was up and running in only slightly more than an hour! We, indeed, are the perfek band because come what mayth, we areth ableth to DEFEATH IT MWAHAHA. I’ll let the photos speak for themselves before I get smote by God for lying thru my teeth. Kthxdie.

The horror! Thank God there was a TANK in the vicinity, and thus we could connect a jumper cable from the tank’s DIESEL/PLUTONIUM/NUCLEAR generatorz to the flat battery on Peh’s car!

After getting shocked by the uber powerful tank DIESEL/PLUTONIUM/NUCLEAR/BABY powered generator, Ivan, Peh and myself gathered around to discuss how we should go about punishing the n00b driver, Peh, for his costly oversight that made us all tired and sweaty by pushing his car around the car park while cute girls in short skirts mocked us behind comfy leather seats inside beastly BMW convertibles.

Peh is sad because we have decided to not intro hot girls to him anymore as a punishment for his costly mistake. I’m sad because that means I won’t be able to get to know the hot girl’s hot friends. Thus, it was a lose-lose situation for us. Is it time for a smoke yet?

Indeed, it was time!

At last, the car could start, and thus we had to go home because it was raining and we might just melt in the rain

Thus everybody was happy. Charlotte the photowhore/grapher was happy!

Mom was happy too, because she’s standing next to her tank.

Of emo rants and mindless raves.

I fail to comprehend why the government has to enlist strapping young males, who’re entering the prime years of their lives, into the army. Sure, the romantism of the armed forces will always appeal to the young males, especially the alpha males who value the chance to “lead” in the army. The idealism of donning the green camoflage uniform, the various coloured berets, shrugging on the green webbing, lifting up the oily rifle to defend and protect the country that birthed you. The country that you call home.

I fail to comprehend, then, the chasm that exists between the various arms of the armed forces, from the air to the sea, and finally to the land-based troops. Why’s there this divide between an Air Force specialist and an Army Specialist? What can they do that we as land-crawlers cannot do? Do we not train as hard, if not harder than they do? Do we not shed less tears and blood than them whilst in training? Do we not have what it takes to do our job as well as they can do theirs?

I fail to understand, then, the abyss that exists between the different Defence Forces, from the Men in Blue, to the fire fighters, and finally to the fools in green who suffer in silence, only to suffer extra confinement. Why is there a difference in the pay between a police corporal, and an army corporal? Why is there inequality between the fire fighter and the soldier? Are we unable to defend the country as well as the fire fighter and put out a blaze? Are we unable to bear arms the way a policeman bears his service revolver against armed robbers and criminals? Are we, as soldiers of the Motherland, unable to perform our duties that we have given 2 years of our lives to train for?

I fail to see eye to eye with regulars in the armed forces as well. Does signing a piece of paper, signing your life away for 10 years, give you more right, more power and more freedom as compared to us enlistees? Does it mean that we as enlistees aren’t capable of doing our jobs as well as you can perform yours, if not better? Does it mean that we as enlistees aren’t meant to be treated as human beings? Does it mean that you as a regular (idiot), who signed your life away, are bullet proof and invincible in times of war? Without enlistees, would there be a People’s Army? Would there be an SAF to defend the country that throws, unceremoniously, the responsibility of mantaining national security into the laps of 18-20 year olds with lesser benefits than their compatriots who’re busy mantaining social and civil security?

Well, you may have won this round and I may have lost. But bear in mind that in 42 more work days, I will be collecting my Pink IC and abandoning my rank. I’ll embrace my freedom with arms wide open while you continue to embrace your days with empty thoughts of promotions that’ll never come, of rank increaments that will probably never increase.

Bear in mind that in 42 more work days, you will be addressing me as Mister, and I’ll be calling you by your name.

Bear that in mind when you see me around, because I am no longer a lower life form compared to you. On the contrary, you’re shit compared to me because you’re a serviceman, and because I’m a civilian. Because I only wasted 2 years of my life in the army, whilst you’ve wasted close to 6 years.

Because at the end of the day, bear in mind that I’m still more successful than you’ll ever be. Because no matter what you do now, you’ll never catch up. So hey, here’s advice for you, extend your contract and continue protecting me. I might even give you a cookie when I’m done eating.

Of wireless and stupid fools with stupid music

So I’m at tampines interchange’s mac donalds with Char now, and I’m pissed as hell because of two things. Firstly, my laptop has 7% battery left and stupid ah bengs/lians are hogging the only power point. The previous group was playing stupid chinese songs and playing stupid gh3y-assed n00b games. Now the new bunch’s sitting there flaunting their pathetically small Fujitsus with 14″ screens and trying to look sophisticated and oh-so-high-class. Sorry, my 17″ wide screen macintosh powerbook owns you upside down inside out 7 fucking ways to church on any Sunday. Secondly, I can’t blast my music loudly because I’m a nice guy. Thus, Alvyn is pissed off :@

Charlotte says hi and that Alvyn rox.

Of responsibility.

I fucking cannot take it when people can’t be responsible. I hate it even more when people appear to be superbly responsible and on-the-ball for matters pertaining to them, or concerning their potential well-being, yet flippantly casual towards things that involve them, yet does not affect them. I find this kind of behaviour fucking disgusting and selfish. It doesn’t matter who you are, or how highly you’re educated. It doesn’t even matter if you’re good both academically and physically, because in my eyes, you are nothing but a selfish piece of fuck shit, you’re just a little better than scum. Thank God I’ve got a blog for me to rant it all out, or I’ll probably go all antagonistic (as Charlotte likes to put it) and start a fight with you because I don’t like who you are. (And no, charlotte this isn’t about you don’t worry)

If you can’t be bothered to remember trivial (in your opinion) matters, then please, refresh your memory and recall why there is a need for this trivial matter to be settled in the first place.

If you don’t think that such a trivial matter is worth your time, then why bother giving yourself so much stress and workload? Because now, let limpeh tell you something interesting – you will not succeed simply because you can’t be half-arsed to put in your 101% for something that YOU feel isn’t important. It’s not how you handle and manage big things that matter. It’s how you discipline yourself to handle insignificant matters that define how good a leader, or a person you are.

In this case, you’ve failed.

Miserfuckingrably.

Of purchases and of integrity.

I traded my 18″ medium crash for a 15″ K dark thin crash, and I realised that it was literally, the trade of the century. I had the better deal, or so I thought, until my phone rang this afternoon while I was in office, and the fellow who happily dealt his crash away to me, asked me to return it to him. I told him no, beceause a deal’s a deal, and I don’t do refunds or exchanges. He didn’t reply me after that.

Luckily for him, he didn’t reply me, or I would have spammed his motherfucking phone with my 1001 uber l33t fucking kanpua silan horrigible messages to make him 01 x fucking pissed off, but impotent to do anything because he only has my handphone number.

Which brings me to point 1. What’s the deal (lol pun) with fuckers who go back on deals that they’ve agreed on? I’ve said it more than once, if you can’t afford it, don’t offer any price, and don’t bargain the price down. Save up until you can get it. Why are people just so fucking stupid?

And now onto point 2. The band made it through the oh-so-fucking-vigorous BNJ auditions and we’re waiting for Jason to schedule us to play. If any of my dear wonderfully wonderful and loyal readers out there have any song suggestions to make, drop it in the comments section! But please do not that due to the nature of the place, I will definitely not play fucking Avenged Fucking Sevenfold or Iron Fucking Maiden and get myself thrown out of the entire complex itself. Top40s and rock would be nice. Have fun!

Last but not least, 52 work days to ORD and counting down before I say goodbye to this puabye army. PUI.

Of desktops and auditions

Ok so I finally got around to posting images of my desktop, and this is how it looks like now. Icons courtesy of pixelgirlpresents..

Right, now that I’ve got the hard part down, its time to tell you, my dear readers, about something really exciting. shakenotstirred aka my band, is having our “ceremonial” auditions at Ben and Jerry’s Cathay on Tuesday, at 8.30pm. We only have to play 3 – 4 songs, so I’m sorry if you were expecting more than that. We will, obviously, be playing more than 3-4 songs when we finally get about gigging there, but since we decided not to skip and bypass protocol and audition like how everybody has to, we have no choice but to stick to the audition “rules”, which means we will have to do only 3-4 songs.

Which means I’m in a little dilemma now. I’ll be playing on a 4 piece setup with 2 main crashes along with my hats and ride. I’m deciding if I should bring along my extra cymbal stand just in case they don’t have a spare stand for my 18″ Avedis Medium Crash. As it is, I’m already lugging my Pearl Eliminator pedals, my Yamaha 14×4 maple snare, along with all my cymbals down to BNJ. One more cymbal stand’ll either be worth it, or kill me. Comments, please?

If you decide to head down to watch us, do drop me a line at alvyn07@gmail.com or hit me up on MSN messenger at the same email address. I’ll dedicate our last song to all you wonderful people who’ll come down and watch us! (Yes, wonderful people, because you-who-do-not-turn-up-for-our-audition/show is a fucktard)

Of musicianship #2.

I’m going to bitch about something that has been on my mind for a very, very long time.

It started off with deals on a certain musical website. What pissed me off was the fact that wannabe musicians would be trying to sell off low-end cymbals with comments and phrases such as “Cutting sound, suitable for rock and metal!” or “Dark, washy tone”, along with a hefty price tag. The fact that morons like them were doing stupid things like trying to overprice their beginner cymbals pissed me off so badly that I refused to sell anything there for a period of time.

When I started selling/buying my cymbals/snare/pedal/hardware on the same website some time later, I faced another breed of losers. The kind who offer you ridiculously low prices for your item, citing various reasons ranging from, “I’m a student, thus my budget is very low” to “This cymbal is very old, its not worth the amount you want.” Firstly, I’d like to say that if you do not have a budget, either take a loan, or contact the person and ask if he/she can hold it for you while you raise the amount, like one off my buyers who actually confirmed his deal with me. I held on to his hats, and he told me that he’d be able to deal with me in 2 weeks time. I agreed to it because it’s a win-win situation. I get a buyer, he gets what he wants. If you are unable to raise the money to buy your equipment, then I suggest you start to learn how to save, because not having the money is not a valid reason for sellers like me to lower the fucking price to accommodate you. Either you accomadate my price, or you fuck off. As for the condition of the cymbals, I do believe that I’ve done enough research, and have been drumming long enough to know the value of individual cymbal that I possess. Certain cymbals maybe old, but lines like avedis increase in value over the years, provided there’re no cracks or dents in them. If you can’t appreciate this simple fact, then you don’t deserve to own an avedis cymbal. Similarly, you can fuck off.

After that, I realised that most people were going goo-goo-ga-ga over kids in tapered jeans with eyeliners playing really, really loudly, and trying to go really, really fast, with no chops and no licks to showcase. At the same time, the play as if the drumset pissed them offf and they were trying to kill it – no technique, no groove, and most importantly no feel. But that isn’t what pissed me off. The fact that idiots can come up to me and ask me why I don’t pull off insanely fast rapid fire rolls over my drumset, really make me want to tell them that, “If I rolled any faster and played any louder, you’d all die because I’m that good.” And then stab them with my drumsticks.

Apart from playing and chops, the attitude of musicians nowadays have also been on the decline. I’ve spoken to quite a number of musicians, ranging from drummers like myself to keyboardists, to guitarists. Most of the mature ones are really outstanding and committed, and I salute them. However, there’re always the few immature musicians who literally “worship” the ground their “idols” walk on. Their idols being other musician who appear to more pro than them. And how do they judge the musician? By how fancy his/her playing is, how loud and fast their playing is. Hello boys and girls, wake up your fucking idea. Music is not about speed. I don’t like doing rapid fire straight 16 or 32nds fill ins because I don’t think its nice. I’d prefer to play with dynamics, triplets and paradiddles around the kit. I like to play with ghost notes and buzz rolls. If you can’t handle me playing with the groove I have, kindly fuck of and do not tell me to “do a very fast roll around the drumset man!” Because I will stab you with my drumsticks and impale you on my cymbal stand as a warning to everyone else.

Last but not least, I cannot stand musicians with no discipline and no sense of commitment. Being a musician is what it is – fun and joy… When you’re jamming and gigging. Why? Because that’s when you bust out your chops, your grooves, and show everyone what you’ve been practicing so long for. But when you’re practicing and rehearsing, it isn’t all fun and games. Its about hours of sitting in front of a hard rubber pad practicing rudiments to a metronome. It’s about listening to the same songs over and over again, trying to figure out what kind of a fill in you could play to make it sound a bit different and a bit nicer, and for originals, what you could play to either spice up the particular part, or make your lead guitarist sound good. It’s about knowing what to play, how to play, when to play. It’s about having the discipline to practice, and the committment to do it well. It’s about having the self-discipline to manage your time, to juggle between school, work, friends, band and practice itself.

Being a musician doesn’t mean you pick up a guitar, a bass guitar, a pair of drumsticks, and randomly shred/roll about on the kit. It’s not about wanting to destroy stuff, playing loudly or playing as quickly as you can. It’s about practice, practice, and more practice.

Being a musician isn’t about having the stage to yourself. It’s about sharing the stage with your bandmates, making them sound good, and ultimately making the band sound tight, and rock the house down.

Endth.

NABEI CHARLOTTE SAYS IM RUDE

Nabei limpeh tiaos you. Charlotte said I’m rude. Still dare to TSK TSK LIM PEH.

NI NABEI I TELL U. LIMPEH IS NOT RUDE OK. Limpeh is the most polite motherfucking person around you’ve ever met. I give you example.

When I want to scold someone I say please and thank you ok.

Excuse me sir, NABEI PUA BYE YOU KANINABEH CHAOCHEEBYE YOU GO OUTSIDE HOR GAO GAN, HUM GAR CHAN, KAN BU KAN PEH. NABEI PUABYE HUMJI PUBOH KIA TIU LEI LOMO HUM GAR CHAN LAH PUI CHAO NUA KANINA. Thank you for listening to me sir. Have a nice day, good bye.

If that is not being polite, then I don’t know what the fuck is being polite lor. NABEI.

Pu boh you Charlotte for saying I’m rude pui Xiu puke on you.

Of half days and rainy days.

I’ve always wondered the rationale behind building our bunks facing an indian temple. I don’t mind the occasional bell chimings, the chantings and stuff because it IS their religion anyway. However, my logic fell to pieces two nights ago while I was happily asleep in my bunk at 11+pm. Some fucking nabei puabye decided to carry out some ceremony then, and the fucking place was SATURATED, I say again, SATURATED, with bell chimings, shoutings, more bell chimings, and 7-8 lorrys driving AROUND khatib area, with a fucking police siren blaring. Don’t ask me why the fuck they have a police siren, because I don’t know.

Initially, I thought it was a funeral procession of sorts, but I looked closely from my 6th floor window and realised to my fucking annoyance, that it was just a group of assholes trying to be funny at 11 FUCKING PM AT NIGHT WHEN I HAVE A FUCKING RUN THE NEXT MORNING AT 0630 HOURS MOTHERFUCKERS.

And what is it with stupid fucktards adding me on friendster? I’ve got assclowns who pose with fluffed up cheeks and FORCED open eyes (aka the bukkake pose), and cumstuds who take endless photos of themselves in different hairstyles or attires, and captioned it with stupid fucking English like “iSh MiE!”. Like fuck lah, am I a fucking magnet for morons? Do I look as if I belong in the same motherfucking clique as you fools? I don’t, period. Call me insensitive or elitist, but believe me I’m neither. I’m just sensible enough to know that anybody who poses like some bukkake wannabe, or tYpEs lYk DiS, are classified under section “FUCK OFF” in my little organiser/diary. So if you fit the profile of a shit-eating-bastard-child-bukkake-wannabe-ah-lian-typist, please do not add me on friendster, because I’ll simply reject you. Find yourself another cumslut to befriend and continue polluting your own fucking gene pool.