Thursday, May 19, 2005

Billions of Blistering Batons

Updated (again)

* * *

I'd always been known to be a loner as a kid. Sure, there were times when I hung out with other kids I was close to, but I never really liked hanging out in large groups of more than 5, where too many people are trying to talk too much at the same time, where I would slink into an obscure corner and sink into my own thoughts, oblivious to the mindless chatter around me.

Part of my problem was that I was a non-conformist. I suppose my parents emphasised the evils of peer pressure so much that I became quite impervious to it.

Like the time when the whole class would be cheering and egging me on to be the one to present the Teacher's Day card to that Chinese teacher who was particularly fond of giving me a 50/100 for my compositions, but I would simply give a curt I'm-not-doing-it announcement and get back to Smiley's People. What they couldn't stand was not the fact that I didn't want to do it (of course they knew that), but because I didn't even bother to put up a big show of protesting.

So not-fun. So un-sporting. Why you so lidat. So blah blah blah. I've heard them all.


Then, a few bloggers sent me the dreaded musical baton, expecting me to join in the fun. Fun.

First came Adri's baton. I guess she doesn't like phallic objects. (But neither do I.)

Then came a big brown baton.

Then Roxanne shoved me another. She thinks it's art.

Then batons rained on me.

This reminds me of the chain mail I used to get from friends when I first started emailing, promising me that I won't die next week or I'll find a girlfriend or Bill Gates will send me money if I forward it to 10 of my friends.

Of course, I would immediately shoot back an email telling them that now that you've received my email, you will die if you send me another chain mail. And it helped - my supply of chain mail eventually ran completely dry.


But this muscial baton thingy - it's much worse, much more dangerous, evil, and insiduous than chain mail. Like chain mail, it spreads quickly, and will soon reach epidemic proportions. Our blogosphere will soon be infected. Worst of all, it doesn't depend on the naivety of clueless and gullible email users - it thrives on the pressure exerted from fellow bloggers whom you respect!

You can imagine the pressure I'm facing right now.

Imagine, getting it from Adri - the oh-so-sizzling-yet-oh-so-unattainable Adri. How many guys (and gals) are just seething with envy?

Or from none other than the great brown cow mr brown?

Or that artistic Roxanne whose blog is destined for fame?

Or that innocent little Raine - how can I refuse small request from an innocent little girl?

These are loaded batons. Very heavy, very stressful.

But, to borrow Harry Truman's famous sign on his desk,

The baton stops here. Come, hatemail, come!


* * *

Fine, fine. Give a bit of face. Just a bit. And just this once.


Total volume of music files on my computer:

I have no music on my computer. After the harddisk crashed, I decided to forget it.


The last CD I bought was:

Actually I bought a whole stack of CDs. Imation blank CD-Rs.


Song playing right now:

N.A. Even my ipod has no music. Seriously - it's all people talking. I try not to burst out laughing when I'm on my ipod, because it looks too weird.


Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me:

1. Marikita. I'm such a loyal Singaporean. (I can't remember the correct title.)
2. The Ngee Ann Song. Yes, we actually have a Ngee Ann song. I'm so loyal to my school. (I seriously don't dare to click on the link that plays the song.)
3. Hit Me Baby One More Time. I lub you Britney!!!!
4. Tornado (Long Juan Feng). By you-know-who.
5. What song? Simi song? I buay song leh!

Ptui!
Excuse me.


Five people to whom I’m passing the baton:

My true idol, who is also Singapore's & USA's Most Handsome Guy!!!
My distant relative. (Yes I have royal blood.)
One of my favourite bloggers, who was also my early supporter.
My favourite scholar.
My favourite lawyer.


There. Don't say I'm not sporting.

* * *

Updated (again): Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me

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