Queef

Was watching the latest southpark episode and learnt a new word. Queef. Go wiki it.

The repairmen at my workplace are contracted to a certain Hong An Pte. Ltd. The back of their polo-T's proudly emblazon the letters HONGAN. All Caps, no spacing.

It looks like a word i used a lot in dental school in when things didn't go well.

Departures.

Winner of Best Foreign Film at the Oscars this year.



Don't miss it.

IT Show@Suntec - Saturday Afternoon

Was squashed and deprived of oxygen whilst on my pilgrimage to the IT show on Sat.

Originally intended to recce for worthwhile deals, but decided to get what I wanted there and then because I didn't want to have to tunnel through the crowd at Suntec. Again. And then the choked walkways of Citylink. Again.

It's no better if you drive either. Finding a parking lot was a game of luck and a test of patience.

And it's not like the show offered bargain buys and huge mark-downs on prices either. Harddisks, thumbdrives, RAM prices were actually cheaper in the deserted corridors of Sim Lim square. That being said, I did get my Dad's LCD monitor for a cool $60/- off it's retail price.

It'll probably go a further $10 or $20 lower in the final hours of the show today, but I don't want to be stuck in a human traffic jam comprising my fellow restless bargain-crazed countrymen. I don't want to be battered by irate mothers ramming their prams and baby strollers into my ankles (don't laugh, it's true).

* * * * * *

Oh and Liverpool beat Man Utd 4-1. :)

(Diclaimer: I am NOT a Liverpool fan. Man U fans who are sore from defeat should direct their anger and violence towards my friend Nijam)

Weekend at the Movies

Hooted: Jon's Dad's Rig

Taken off Barney Stinson's (HIMYM) Wall

Familiar?

Mental note to self...

Facial nerve palsy is my kryptonite.

Just before the turn of the new year, Rampant caries guy kena facial nerve palsy.
I believe the cause to be my wandering and overly penetrative LA needle.

Something about the way he looked, the sudden panic, followed by odd facial expression (a bit like the villain 2-face from Batman) that made me giggle like a schoolgirl.

And I couldn't stop it, rendering me about as effective as a drowning lifeguard.

And yes I already know I'm an ass.

Friend: If I had a son there're only 2 things I'd do for him - Get him a car, and make him take guitar lessons. I'd say, "Son, don't ask why, you'll thank me later."

Me: If I had a daughter she's not going anywhere near your son.

Rampant Caries Guy

19 year old patient with rampant caries: Uh Doctor, my case hor, can spread or not?

Me: Yes if we don't do the fillings the decay will get worse.

Patient: No, I mean like, can spread to my girlfriend or not?

Me: Er... yes, depending on what you 2 are doing, the bacteria can be transmitted from mouth to mouth..... Mouth to any place else is fine.

Day in the life of Mario

Maybe Luigi would have better luck. Lol.

Point A to point B

People who have the misfortune of seeing me enough should be familiar with my transport rants. For the record I F**KING HATE taking public transport. (wow I sound F**king angry)

Maybe it's because working necessitates my taking of the MRT at the rush hour, when my fellow displeasured commuters instinctively barge in as soon as the train doors open, much like the Orcs invading Helm's Deep in LOTR.

The faces from within look just as grim as Aragorn and Gimly (especially Gimly) as they brace themselves for the impending onslaught.

People alighting clash harshly against the unrelenting torrents of working class hell bent on finding a seat.

Haven't you folks seen the pregnant woman looming over the middle-aged aunty, glaring at the "Please give up this seat to...." sign, whilst a mental exchange over who has more right to the seat ensues?

Sometimes the seats are just a little too small for some commuters, but they strangely don't notice it. Once Jabba the Hutt attempted to fit beside me. Plus he was wet, either from the rain, or physical activity or both. There was a real life, modern day application of diffusion. I felt violated.

And so I pine about the state of public transport. I have a friend in the Land Transport Authority who doesn't take me seriously. I think it's because he drives.

YeeHau puts it aptly. I'm like the edentulous guy who complains about dentures because I can't afford Implants.

And I really think I'd be a lot happier with the material cravings that so many moralists frown upon. Money won't buy happiness, but you can definitely make yourself a lot more comfortable.


* * *

(Oei Tham, get SMRT to get rid of seats in peak hour trains leh! Lots of bastards 不顾一切 rush for seats like dun sit will die. Maybe just the first and last cabin with seats so the pregnant and pseudo-elderly can fight among themselves. More standing capacity for the rest of us is good too!)

Line Dinner @ Hooters

Trust

I feel extremely insulted when patients think I lie to them.
Worse still when they ask me a question when they already have an answer from someone else. Then there's a sense of attempted ambush.

More and more, being in healthcare makes me feel like a prostitute.

We're obliged to go all out to please, and we really try.
My friends charge so little I think they're cheap. (I don't charge at all)
Customers think our advice is worthless.
Customers tell us to do stuff that they saw on the internet.
Customers tell us they won't pay since we didn't reproduce what they saw exactly.
Customers think they have the right to screw us.
We do our best and the customers make weird faces and weirder noises.
They want us stop every 3 minutes to get the bang for their buck.
Customers can complain that they aren't satisfied afterwards and start bargaining and haggling.
Some of my co-workers work all night and see many customers.
Some of my co-workers work all night and have no customers.
Some customers are dirty, dysfunctional people.
Some are just lonely and need some TLC.
They came to me because they didn't go far enough in life to afford better.
I'm always thinking of leaving this profession.
Infectious and blood-borne diseases are occupational hazards.
My Pimp doesn't let me work for someone else.
My Pimp docks my takings if I argue with him.
My Pimp says I owe him money and wants a huge payout if I want to leave.
My Pimp screws me from time to time.
And face it, my Pimp doesn't pay me well to begin with.
I don't switch jobs because I think I can't do anything else.

I'm tired. My back hurts when I bend down. I'm told I'm wrong because www.internet.com says otherwise. I'm young and inexperienced. I graduated from a third rate university.
Dentists charge too much. Talk should be free, not just cheap. Dentists should be paid in gratitude and not cash. Dentists should be satisfied with rice on our plates and water in our cups. We worked our socks off so we can serve the public when we're not traveling on the trains that conveniently pass the rented shelter that we share with Illegal immigrants.

This whore just needs a break from mistrust and sneaky FONs waiting to pounce on my first verbal gaffe. I'll be thinking of that when I blow out the 26 candles this Dec.

And hoping against hope that miracles do happen.

Where the Hell is Matt (Part deux)

Insanely envious of this guy. Looks like he had loads of fun doing the second video as well.

Long Island Tea

Made Long Island Iced Tea for the family to sample based on the following recipe:

1 part Absolut Vodka
1 part Sauza Tequila
1 part Bacardi Rum
1 part Bombay Sapphire
1 part Cointreau
2 parts Coca-Cola

All you A.A. friends of mine should come one day and rate my mix. :) Word of caution - It is POTENT!


(Left: The Salient ingredients of L.I.T.)

Occupational Hazard

Dakota Fanning's transition from Class III to Class I incisal relationship.

The Donkey, the Foal, and the Farmer. A Children's Bedtime Story.

Farmer Dick had a farm, and on that farm he had a Donkey.

Every morning, Farmer Dick would lovingly caress the Donkey's neck, scratch its ears, and feed it with juicy Fuji apples from the Tree of Rewards. With time, the Donkey grew fat, lazy and useless, but for reasons known only to himself, Farmer Dick persisted in his routine, giving Donkey more apples as its girth expanded.

One day, Jockey Bond came by. He had with him an offspring of a Champion racecourse stallion, at this time a mere foal separated from its mother. This foal would one day gallop to glory, he promised. But it was still young, and so Jockey Bond would like Farmer Dick to take care of the young horse for the next 4 years.

Unbeknown to Jockey Bond, Farmer Dick saw the arrival of the Foal as a source of free labour. Everyday, he persisted in his tender loving care towards his Donkey, and because he was but a temporary caretaker of the Foal, he would crack the Whip of Slavery and force it to pull carts and jump through meaningless hoops. At the end of each day the Foal shared the same swill that the swine had. The Foal was malnourished, and growth was stunted. And although the swill left a lingering bitter taste, it ate just enough to survive.

At dusk, exhausted as the sun set, the Foal watched in poignant disbelief as the obese, repugnant Donkey munched on the sweet, crunchy, apples. The Foal was infinitely more productive than the Donkey, yet the rewards went to Donkey.

It decided that enough was enough, and put in less effort in the tasks Farmer Dick gave him. The Farmer threatened the Foal with less swill, and the Foal, though facing even more hungry nights, refused to buckle.

* * *

The above may sound exceedingly dumb and irrelevant, but it is in some ways a parallel to work. Sadly, this story does not have a happy ending. Yet.

When you can quantify and compare the value of work done between 2 people, and insist on rewarding the less qualified clown (who churns out less work) more, simply because the bugger has been there for 20 years, then think about what it does for workplace morale and ethic.

Would you buy mediocre tasting bread from the guy who's been at it for 20 years, or the better tasting one from the new guy, assuming costs and health standards being equal? In a free market those 20 years of experience don't count if you can't deliver a better product. You'd have to sell your bread for less.

The message some employers send is clear - When under Stupid Dicks, it pays (more) to be a useless ass. It baffles and defies logic, and I hope some sage would enlighten me as to why this is so.

Love to hear your comments and criticisms :)

On Ken Heebner...

A really inspiring article I read in this week's Fortune Magazine.