Category: Singapore

Singapore On A Shoe-String

I needed a break from all the shit I’m facing online and offline, so I took off to sunny Singapore over the Gawai holidays.

I make it no secret that I enjoy Singapore (much to the dislike of my own countrymen). There’s not a single time I left the garden city feeling that I’ve seen or done enough, because there’s always new things popping up and old friends to catch up with.

The only thing holding me back from visiting more frequently is the relatively high costs of accomodation. Think about it, one night in a cheap 3-star budget hotel like Hotel 81 costs about as much as luxurious 5-star hotel like Renaissance in KL.

A couple of kind souls have offered to put up their place for me to stay. I’m happy to accept, except I have a distinct fear of being photographed in my Daffy Duck red underwear and have that photo circulated all round the Internet.
Add to that the increasing costs of living and the rising Singaporean Dollar against Ringgit (last time it was 1SGD=2.20MYR; now it’s 1GD=2.33MYR), a man can’t travel anymore without scraping food off the floor.

This trip though, I managed to do away with a few unwanted luxuries and save up on some cash.
Less money spent on travels = More shopping budget = More money spent on booze = Happy Kenny.

The cheapest way to get from Kuching to Singapore is to first stop at Johor Bahru then grab a coach down. I paid RM330 for my travel, whereas a direct flight from Kuching to Singapore would set me back around RM800.
There’s a bit of madness at the causeway where you have to alight at the JB checkpoint, stamp through, board the coach, drive down to THE OTHER END of the bridge, alight at the Singapore checkpoint, stamp through and then board the coach again.

It’s so stupid I can’t even begin to describe it. Why can’t they just build two immigration checkpoints side-by-side at just one end of the bridge?

If someone copies my idea, remember you seen it first on

It’s a BRIDGE. People from Malaysia are only going to go through to Singapore and vice versa. It’s not like someone is gonna check through at JB, jump off the causeway then swim off to Indonesia or something. Why make life difficult?

Anyway, while in Singapore I stayed at One Florence Close in Kovan. It’s a backpackers hostel instead of a hotel I’m used to.
I figured it’s such a waste staying at hotels, budget or not, considering I’m out most of the time and I won’t be using whatever facilities like gym or swimming pool they’re providing. Besides, I don’t bring people back into my room so I have no one to impress.

A lot of people have this misconception that backpackers hostels are like garbage dumps. It’s not true. I’m mighty impressed by a lot of the hostels I’ve stayed at because not only are they so much cheaper, they’re cleaner and more personal than the average budget hotels.
I paid SGD55 a night, a bargain compared to Hotel 81 Chinatown’s SGD95 a night.

The rooms are a bit small and I do have to give up on the luxury of having my own ensuite bathroom, but everything about this hostel is cheery and happifying. At least their sheets are clean and pillows comfy. And I love their funky shower head so much I want to pull it off their walls and install it into my own home.

If there are any complaints I have (since it’s a crime to give glowing reviews to something you like so much), it’d be that the owners have the tendency to use the “equal close-bracket” smiley face a wee bit too liberally.
A little bit is cute. A little bit too much is annoying. But One Florence Close took it to a whole new level.

Everywhere I go, I see =) until even when I’m down I also =) because all I can think of is =) and =) is the only thing I can think of. =)
Flights: RM330
Hostel: RM253 (2 nights)
Food: RM100
Nightlife: RM100
SIM Card: RM18
Misc: RM73
Total Damage: RM874

I want to go back there again.

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Guess Where I’m At Right Now?

Guess where I am at right now?
Barely half a day here and I’m already having the time of life.
Met up with Linda Chia during her lunch break.
Then I popped in to have a look at the PC Fair going on at Suntec City.
Sassyjan and Scarlett Ting were there working as promo girls.
Ting was in her sexxxy hot pants drawing all the attention on her at the Fair. It’s a good thing she’s manning the Logitech booth – that was tailor-made for some classic pick-up lines.
Kenny: Can I stroke your mouse?
Ting: Why don’t you let me play with your joystick?

Nokia booth is cool

I’ll be using the number +65 9353 4628 while I’m here.
Tomorrow night at 9:45pm I’ll be at Wala Wala for UnXpected‘s performance, then maybe I’ll check out Ministry of Sound around midnight. 🙂
If you see me, don’t be shy to say hi hor.

Cannot Take Photos Inside MRT Stations

You know, as much as I like Singapore and its people, there are things about the city state that I find annoying. Like how anal some MRT officials are.

See, I’ve been travelling a lot lately, and when I travel, I take a lot of photos.
I don’t usually get into trouble for doing that. While I tend to push my limits a little, I do have my own set of principles when it comes to photography. If people were to get upset at me if I took photos of them without permission, I can understand. What I don’t understand is why people would get upset at me for taking photos of something as innocuous as an empty MRT station.
What happened was this.
It was early Sunday morning. I was just about to get back to my hotel after pretty much partying my whole Saturday night away, which included hanging out with the former Miss Malaysia and having cold milk poured onto me by the Incredible Hulk.
The City Hall MRT station at 6am in the morning was hauntingly quiet, a huge contrast to the way it was during peak hours.

I found the scene strangely beautiful, so I primed my camera and took two shots at the almost empty MRT station.
Just as I finished my second shot, a middle-aged SMRT officer sauntered out from his booth with a pissed-off look on his face and slowly walked towards me, cowboy style.
SMRTO: What are you doing?
Kenny: Taking photos?
SMRTO: Why are you taking photos here?
Kenny: For artistic reasons.
SMRTO: You cannot take pictures in here!
Kenny: Oh ok. Sorry I didn’t realise that.
SMRTO: You have to delete the photos.
Kenny: Err… no, I’m not deleting my photos.
SMRTO: No… you have to delete them or I will have to take action.
Kenny: Well, there’s no signage around the place saying I cannot take photos in here, so I’m not deleting them. And it’s just two photos anyway.
SMRTO: We don’t put it on the signage, but it is against the regulation to take photos in here.
Kenny: Alright then, may I see the regulation?
SMRTO: Do you want me to call the police?
Kenny: No, I’m asking you to show me the regulation saying I can’t take photos in here.
SMRTO: We don’t have the regulation book in here. Our regulations you can find on our website.
Kenny: Don’t you have a hard copy of it?
SMRTO: No, there’s so many of them so we cannot list out every single thing in our book.
Kenny: Do you have Internet access?
SMRTO: No, sorry you cannot go into our booth!
Kenny: Then I’m keeping my photos.
SMRTO: If you want to do that, I have no choice but to call the police now.

With that, the SMRT Officer pulled out this big ass walkie talkie from his belt and paged someone, presumably not the police but his tai kor. As he stood aside, hundreds of thoughts went through my head simulteanously.
Kenny Kenny Kenny, what have you done? All these trouble just for those two pathetic photos? What if the police came for you? What if you went to jail for this? What if they locked you away with all hardcore rape criminals? What if those criminals got desperate and decided to poke your backside deep deep?
Your bright future ahead of you, gone, just like that.
Imagine if I went to jail. I’m gonna sit beside my cellmate and asked him “Hey buddy, what are you here for?”
“I killed me wife” he’d reply with a grunt. “And what are you here for?”
What am I gonna say?
“Oh uhh… I took some photos at the MRT station?”

Anyway, a few moments later the officer got off his walkie talkie. His superior (or the phantom “police force” or whoever it was that he’s paging) obviously thought he’s damn bo liao to bring this up and basically told him to sod off and play with his Barbie, because when he came back the horns had disappeared from his head and his voice had turned helluva lot softer.
SMRTO: I still advise you not to take any photos inside the MRT station.
Kenny: Look, you still haven’t answered my question. And all I’m asking for is a question. Not a threat, not a challenge, but a question. “May I see the regulation saying I cannot take photos in the MRT station?”
SMRTO: No… that’s why I said our regulation is on the website.
Kenny: I don’t have Internet access right now. And you have no hardcopy of the regulations, you cannot show me the regulations on screen. In other words, if myself or anyone else want to take photos in the MRT station you can do nothing about it because you cannot show them that it’s against the regulations.
SMRTO: That’s why I told you. The regulation is like whatever law in the country, there’s so many law, you don’t expect the government to put up everything you know?
Kenny: In other words, I assume the regulation do not exist and I get to keep whatever photos that I took.
SMRTO: Can you just show it to me? Fine, let’s say I find that it’s nothing then OK.
Kenny: Alright I’ll show you the photos but I refuse to delete it unless you show me the regulation.
Listen to part of the conversation (WMA, 1m56s, 297KB)

So I showed him the two bloody photos I took that started this whole brouhaha. Only then did I convince him that I’m no terrorist and I don’t plan to use the photos to plan where to hide my bombs.
When I flew back to Kuching that night, the first thing I did was logged on to the SMRT website to check if their mysterious anti-photography regulation exists. Even up till this day, I find nothing of that sort.
Thinking back, it’s kinda stupid to argue with the authority over two useless photos. But hey, I don’t like to be told what I cannot do and I guess the deadly combination of alcohol and fatigue has made me bolder that morning.
Somehow, I’m just glad I wasn’t sent to jail for taking photos. Would be interesting though. I wonder if Singaporean police also make detainees do naked ear squats like in Malaysia?

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Singapore Nightlife

I totally dig Singapore’s nightlife.

Sure, compared to back home, alcohol in SG may cost twice as much and the midnight charges for taxis are horrendous. In the end, it’s the crowd and company that make a great night out. The Singaporeans I met sure know how to partayyyy.
Zouk’s Mambo Night

Wednesday nights in Singapore are special.
It is when all the Uni and College babes come out and play, and old farts like me play with ourselves watch them play. Their playground is Zouk’s Mambo Jambo Night.

I have no idea why Mambo Nights are so popular. Since when did 18, 19 year olds start dancing to 70s and 80s retro music? I’d have thought people of their age would be going Zouk to listen to tetno music.

This is my date for the night, Linda Chia.
I’m a bad date though. I made her wait outside Zouk for an hour while I record “Zhng My Car” with Brown and Miyagi. Sorry Linda!

While we’re outside, we spotted this someone who probably just came out of torturing little animals inside a handicapped toilet while chanting anti-KL slogans. 😉

Mambo Nights aren’t just fun, they’re funny as.
One thing I noticed was that when it comes to doing the Para Para hand movements, the guys are actually better than the girls! I asked a girl where she learnt her hand movements from, and she said “Neh! From those guys there on the podium!”
Its amazing. These are guys that dressed and looked like your average handphone shop Ah Bengs. When they stepped up onto the podiums they become gods. And the hundreds of revellers worship the podiums they stood on.
Linda and I tried doing the Para Para hand movements, but we ended up looking like a deaf and a mute talking to each other.

Out of no where, this 40+ year old uncle wearing leather pants, jacket and sunglasses climbed onto the podium and started “dancing”. By “dancing” I mean squatting, pointing and turning his head slowly.
At first I thought he’s Zouk’s head of security trying to catch people snapping photos in the club (like me). But when I saw the whole club literally stopped to watch and cheer him on, I knew he must be someything. It’s unbelievable, bunch of 19 year old kids cheering on a high school principal lookalike.

We left around 2:30am that night for some Fish Meehoon Soup at River Valley. Linda still looking hot as ever. I didn’t sleep the night before, which is why I looked like a male version of Furong Jiejie.

Andrea Fonseka at Attica

There’s something I don’t like about Attica. It’s evil. The air of pretentiousness is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
This is probably the only club in Singapore where 90% of the males are expats, and 90% of the females are trying to get in their pants their attention. It is a very discomforting sight.

I’m not saying all girls who go to Attica are bad. There’s a line between looking sexy and slutty, and the lengths some of the girls go to left me dumbfounded. Like that Thai girl who had a dollar note stuffed inside her cleavage by this Italian guy.
I don’t know aye, I reckon she’s trying a little too hard perhaps? I prefer the Zouk crowd anytime.
Anyway, the reason I was there was because after that Foot in Mouth incident, Lena wanted me to judge Andrea Fonseka for myself, to see if I might change my opinion about her.

Nabeh. It’s supposed to be MY ARMS around the girl’s shoulder, not the other way round!

What can I say? I guess the TV does add extra pounds on her.
This former Miss Malaysia is bloody tall. Andrea Fonseka looks statuesque in her cheongsam and she effortlessly exudes this aura of confidence and exquisiteness that make people weak in the knees. It’s a little intimidating , especially when you witness the power she wields.
Andrea not only managed to get me into Attica without paying cover, she got me through to the members-only Attica Too and even into this atas private lounge where a birthday party was taking place. They must really love her there I guess.

Even with her apparent elitism, Andrea has no problems showing her quirky crazy side. This is one fun-loving, and her group of friends she introduced to me that night was class act. Thanks for being a great host, Andrea! 🙂
Lena was right, Andrea Fonseka isn’t as bad as the angry mob made her out to be. That said, I still cannot comment on how she looks like in a bikini though, so we might have to arrange for a private show next time.

UnXpected Live at Wala Wala

Wala Wala is this fun pub in Holland Village popular for their live bands.
I wanted to watch The UnXpected perform, partially because I’ve heard so much about them, but mainly because I know girls who lust NOT for their drummer Brandon, but for their lead singer Shirlyn.
Yes Shirlyn, as if us men don’t have enough competition already.

One song from them, and I knew the reason why Wala Wala was so crowded on weekends that authorities had to step in to prevent overcrowding.
The band rocks and Shirlyn is hot. Her voice is a cross between Jewel and Sheryl Crow and Shakira, and it really works well with the contemporary rock songs the UnXpected is famous for.

My camera flash fired so much that night, Shirlyn forgot her lyrics and Brandon dropped his sticks. I should’ve known. The UnXpected are ROBOTS!
Check out the video clips from the night. You’ll need to install DivX to watch the downloaded clips.

There’s more of their music here.

I seem to get myself into trouble everytime I step foot into Singapore, and my last trip was no different. The Cowboy Barflies I hung out with were a happening bunch, but something happened that made the night more memorable than SPG’s set of tits.

I’m not allowed to say who. Let’s just say someone had too much alcohol, and decided to give me a souvenir in the form of the Scarlett Ting Strawberry Milkshake Treatment. Only difference is, I didn’t get the luxury of strawberry milkshake, just a cold carton Marigold UHT milk.
I laughed out loud when Shirlyn described him as the Incredible Hulk ‘cos I can certainly see the uncanny resemblence.
So here’s what happened.

Yeah. I dig Singapore’s nightlife… sometimes.

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Fight Club At Orchard Underpass

It was by all signs an ordinary Saturday night at the Orchard Road underpass.

Throngs of everyday people were minding their own business walking through the underground walkway situated between Wisma Atria and CK Tang’s. On the walls, the rolling posters burr noisily when they change. A middle-aged busker on keyboards, a seemingly permanent fixture of the Orchard Road underpass, was singing Christmas Carol’s in his signature monotonous tone.
I missed what exactly happened, but it was the resulting commotion caught my attention.

“Call the police! CALL THE POLICE! CALL!!!” yelled the man on the left.
I stopped my footsteps immediately. My face turned ghost white.
What did I do wrong? Was it the pirated DVDs I brought in from Johor? Could it be the packet of chewing gums I had in my pocket? Maybe he reads my blog and didn’t like me putting up pictures of durian terrorists shouting God’s name in vain.
I looked over to his direction.

The man was yelling at this blind visually-impaired woman (must be politically-correct in my blog nowsaday, y’know? Don’t want some visually-impaired people to “read” my blog and think that I have something against blind people. I believe it was a great poet from ancient China who once said ‘With great power comes great responsibility’. Or was that a quote from Spiderman 1?)
The woman must be peeing in her pants because the man was shouting at a volume 100 decibels above the human hearing threshold, and this was in an underpass so you can imagine how loud he was. All this while she was mumbling nervously and pointing her walking stick towards the man’s face, though I doubt it’s gonna help much since, like, she cannot see?

By then, a large crowd has already gathered around the two. Even the uncle playing on keyboard grew sick of the confrontation and said “Oi. You two want to fight go home and fight lah. Don’t come here and fight, make everybody unhappy.”
And with that, he nonchalantly sang Santa Claus Is Coming To Town, much to my amusement.

At one point, the woman kicked the man’s guitar till it fell on the ground. To his credit, the man didn’t do anything back against the woman. He just talked, thus proving correct the theory that all men are “No Action, Talk Only”.
Before I knew it, a plain-clothed detective showed up and separated the two.

With no free show left to watch, the crowd slowly dispersed. I too, quietly slipped a note into the busker’s donation box before disappearing together with the crowd. Don’t wanna get caught red-handed with chewing gums in my pocket, ya know?
Download Fight Club at Orchard Underpass Video. (MOV, 3.2MB, 14s)

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Singapore Very Safe One

Singapore is possibly the safest capital city in the ASEAN region.

Anti-terrorism is high on the Singaporean government’s agenda. There’s posters, marquees and other promotional materials reminding Singaporean citizens to keep an eye out for suspicious people and objects.

While murder, rape and burglary do occur, those cases are extremely rare, thanks to tough punishment and their effective police force. And the Singaporeans you see on the streets are in general law-abiding, obedient and docile.

So what exactly is the key to mind-controlling Singaporean citizens? I don’t know, but seems like their government is doing a FINE job at it.

The strategy they employ is clear. If you don’t want your people to do something, put up a big ass poster, put a cross through it and underneath the poster write in big bold print “FINE: SGD$ X AMOUNT” Confirm people will listen to you one.
It is getting a little ridiculous though. Everywhere I go, I noticed all these FINE posters everywhere. Not exactly what I had in mind for Singapore Design Festival.
There’s so much of them that the whole city is transformed into one big giant FINE menu. So much fine, I think even al Qaeda terrorists also scared of the Singaporean gahmen.
How much you’re fined is dependent on how much damage you can cause. As spotted on the walls of Singapore’s Mass Rapid Transit (MRT) stations.
If you drink Cola and eat hamburgers in the MRT, you’re only killing yourself. So fine you little-little only lah. S$500 enough.

Wanna smoke? Cannnnn… But too bad you’re not just killing yourself when you fag, you fag. You’re killing everyone else within your 5m radius with your second-hand smoke, so boh-pien, have to fine you a little bit more. S$1000.

WTF ARE YOU BRINGING FLAMMABLE LIQUID ONTO TRAINS FOR?! Siao ah. Must be to bomb people one. This one must be expensive. Fine you S$5000, you cheebye terrorist.

Then there’s this one that I not quite understand.

Ok. So it says you cannot bring durians onto the MRT. But it never said anything about how much they’re gonna fine you. Which means if you wanna bring durians onto the train, bring lah.
The police will probably give you his tulan face if he saw you holding two big durians on your hands. Not because you didn’t give him durians to eat, but because he knows he cannot simply fine you.
Still, I don’t understand why they don’t fine people who brings durian onto MRTs. For all you know, the next terrorist from Jemaah Islamiyah could look like this.

You never know. You just never know.

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Singapore To-Do List

My old number died-ed on me. New number is +65 8193 7934.
I’m leaving for Singapore in an hour’s time. Will be there on business for Thursday and Friday, but I’ll be staying back till Sunday evening.

I seem to cause a bit of commotion everytime I step foot into Singapore. God knows what shit I’m gonna stir this time round.

Things I plan to do in Singapore:

  • Buy some clothes for my iPod nano from Sim Lim Square.
  • Have a haircut. Any Singaporean hair salons out there want some free publicity on Gimme a good deal and let me know. 🙂 Somebody recommended to me a Japanese-style hair salon called ShunjiMatsuo. I wanted to try but I don’t want to look like Crayon Shin Chan!
  • Register my prepaid mobile phone. Why do I need to register!? Scare I bomb your MRT with my phone issit? (Btw, my Malaysian number will be off while I’m away. Send your death threats to this number instead.)
  • Visit Singapore’s MOST TALKED ABOUT TOPIC of the year 2005. What integrated resorts? I’m talking about Singapore’s handicapped toilets lah.
  • Endorse Voxy Nails
  • Catch The UnXpected playing live this Saturday night at Walalala.
  • Laugh at all the high school kids studying day and night for their GCE ‘O’ Levels right now. HAHAHAHAHA!!!
  • Get rid of my 1.5-year-old Sony Ericsson K700i. It’s about time. Where’s the best place to trade them in?
  • Cheong Club Momo this Friday night. Why do they call it Club Momo? Can go in there and ‘momo’ the girls one issit?
  • Going to Zouk’s Mambo Night tonight. Gotta see for myself Mambo Night’s famed para-para dancers. Where the hell do these people learn those synchronised hand movements from anyway? Their tai-chi master?

    Actually, I really want people to teach me how to dance like that too, but I scared later I accidentally slap and punch their face. How?

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