Migration Complete

March 11, 2012

A while back, I had some problems with my hosting. Something about Virtual Servers not being paid for. I admit, in the midst of all the work last year personal web hosting wasn’t top of my priorities list, and I may have lapsed.

So Dreamhost killed the VPS instances and I lost everything. Sadly, I also found out late last year that my local backups had been erased (no space on work laptop) and that my backups were dead (external hard disks that hadn’t been touched in a year) , so it looked a little like I’d lost all my posts.

It was crushing.

But thanks to the wayback machine, I managed to salvage most of it. In fact, I think I got some of the stuff that was missed when I originally migrated from my own PHP engine to blogger all those years ago.

So here I am today, with almost 8 years of entries behind me (I don’t think I posted at all in 2011 thanks to work and a lack of anything interesting going on). Reading some of the old stuff really takes me back, and I’m sure I’ll be grateful for these little memories in the future.

Here’s hoping I’ll post more in the future.

Posting with magic

August 5, 2009

Bought a new htc magic, trying out the efficacy of WordPress apps. So far the largest impediment is the touchpad…

I am a MAN!

November 30, 2008

Likelihood of you being FEMALE is 5%
Likelihood of you being MALE is 95%

Site Male-Female Ratio
youtube.com 1
photobucket.com 0.85
flickr.com 1.15
wikimedia.org 1.2
drudgereport.com 2.08
abcnews.com 1.22
megaupload.com 1.5
freerepublic.com 1.27
funnyordie.com 1.27
reddit.com 1.33
investopedia.com 1.33
utorrent.com 1.5
tinyurl.com 0.83
theatlantic.com 1.2

From Mike on Ads. Based on SocialHistory.js, which I have only just discovered. Shame on me, considering it’s something so pertinent to my job.

Lousy Web-hosting

October 17, 2008

I think I lost a few posts. Web host disconnected my account a couple of days back because of “billing errors”.

January 14, 2008

Posed a rather innocent question Friday to my colleagues if they’d ever considered purchasing their name-domain-names, which was actually an excuse for me to bring up the evil 3 year-old Alex Huang Jae Huang, whose parents have purchased the domain name till 2011. I usually don’t feel like working very hard the last hour of Fridays.

This ended up in a Google searchfest for all our colleagues’ names, including of course myself.

That turned up this blog.

So my colleagues started reading, as my mind raced to recall if I’d ever posted anything derogatory about any one of them. Because I couldn’t remember, I ended up trying to shut down the whole site, but it turns out WordPress, for all its development does not have a dooce-prevention button conveniently positioned in its admin interface. I didn’t have FTP access (damned network security at work blocks FTP access), so I did the only thing I though posible – I deliberately screwed up some site settings in a self-destruct-so-the-enemy-gets-nothing mindset and–voila!–all that happened was CSS went haywire, so not only could my colleagues read what I REALLY thought about them, they could read it completely unstyled–the naked truth, as it were.


Turns out I needn’t have bothered, though. My laziness to post in recent months due to my dead-end wonderful new job has saved me the embarrassment of having written anything potentially damaging to my career or hurtful about my colleagues. In fact, my Friendster profile turned out to be more damning, where a “friend” of mine had posted some comment about having sex with me (in context it was supposed to have been funny), and had my small-minded, conservative lovely colleagues looking at me with sanctimonious righteous contempt.

Phew. I REALLY dodged a bullet there, not writing how I really felt.

(as an aside, some of my colleagues were more interested in 3-year-old Alex’s website showcasing stomache-curdling pictures of his youthful cuteness rather than my much-more-intellectually-stimulating blog, which should tell you something about how truly evil he is)

If anything good has come of this little incident, I have learnt how to instigate people into Googling their own names. Just try to start a conversation with “Have you ever tried to register your own name as a domain name?” I shall employ said tactic just before performance review, after writing glowing reviews about my boss – maybe something like this.

Alternatively I could post disgustingly graphic slash fiction about myself and any other colleague whom I might potentially be up against with for a promotion and then leer at them curiously once in a while before questioning them on whether they knew their domain name was free. Their resulting Google search for their own names should result in a request for a transfer to another department pretty quickly.

Or possibly a request for my transfer to another department. The department of mental services.

In any case–blogging about work? Never a good idea. You have to be pretty stupid to do it. Which I can be at times, judging from my actions today.

Went down to Junction 8, my local mall, to support the Banana for yet another one of her singing competitions, this one in particular organised by the Science Club. To raise money for the event, they set a 15% of the judging criteria to be audience participation – in the form of 50-cent votes. This, of course, sparked off the somewhat offbeat competitive streak in me and I ended up spending $60 to get the Banana up to second-most popular singer. We just barely beat a Japanese-wannabe singer whose Hokkien-speaking mother and boyfriend bought votes for, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little as I saw nihon-jin-in-training looking at the Banana and then wistfully at the voting panel, where she was just 5 votes short of being second-we had practiced the dirty trick of last-minute voting to prevent a bidding-war.

It was rather tragic, really. Some of the little schoolgirls there were pooling together spare change to buy votes for their friends. I feel a bit lousy for having crushed their innocent delusions of people-power, but I suppose a university-organised-small-time singing competition is as good a time for them to learn about the pecking-order-of-economic-power in Singapore, of which I thought the results of the votes were pretty representative of:

  1. First place: rich guy whose parents got him first place (the monied, connected crust of the Singaporean elite)
  2. Second: the banana, who just happened to have a crazy friend with money to blow (middle-class working professionals)
  3. Third: Kawaii-Hokkien (The Other not-so-well-educated Chinese)
  4. Losers: various other minorities and schoolkids (Various minorities and people without certificates-to-prove-usefulness)


So really, I HAD to vote for the Banana, you see, otherwise some schoolgirls might have gone home thinking that they’d managed to make a difference or that together friends could change the world rather than the important life-lesson that they were simply unimportant drones in a largely uncaring society where money was power.

Harsh? I suppose. But important! I am entirely justified in my actions.

And I don’t mind at all having had to spend $60 to spread tough love.

Not at all, not even if the Banana refuses to give me a treat.

Pictures up when I can find time to upload.

I realize I haven’t written in a month.

This is, in equal parts, due to:

  1. An increasing workload
  2. An increasing workload of rather uninteresting work, resulting in nothing to blog about
  3. An increasing workload of rather uninteresting work spent in front of a computer, resulting in a growing propensity to avoid my own PC when at home
  4. QI
  5. Trip to India
  6. Swedish pop

I’ll probably write with more regularity and vigor next year as the dullness of my work hits me and I start to look around for more interesting things to do.

In the meantime, here’s a somewhat interesting story.

I went back to my old office yesterday following an SOS call to fix up the Exchange (email) server (hang in there, this won’t be about IT much). Those of you who know me somewhat more intimately may remember that back in that office we had a couple of animals, including a pair of cats. Well, the cats produced kittens, as cats are wont to do, and I vaguely remembered the last time I was in the office that there had been four furry cute things that I had been tempted to bring home.

On this particular trip, though, I noticed that there were only three. So I asked an ex-colleague if, as per the “Kittens for Adoption!” sign on the front door, someone had already adopted one. She informed me that two would be picked up by a friend of another colleague, but the missing one had been killed by a snake. Now, because of the location of the office and the proximity of forested areas, we’d had a couple of snakes before, so that was normal, but this was the first time any of them had actually done any harm. Still, her response seemed a little cold to me–after all we were talking about a cute fluffy kitten which she had helped deliver being killed, and she was the type of person who loved animals and was, in fact, the reason our office had its own mini petting zoo.

She then told me to go to the back, where a couple of the live-in staff stayed, to ask them what happened to the snake. And so I did.

It turns out the snake in question was a gigantic python, about two and a half metres long. The live-in staff had turned up at the office one morning to discover poor kitty, suffocating in its coils. They bludgeoned it to death with some metal poles, but were too late to save kitty, who expired soon after (I have the sneaking suspicion they put it out of its misery). But at least kitty had been avenged.

But what had they done with the python’s body? I was led to the communal fridge, where I was shown a plastic bag containing half a python. The live-in staff, being foreigners of sturdier stock than the average Singaporean, had been pragmatically stored the snake for consumption. Python meat smells of grass and looks remarkably like chicken. I was told it tasted of chicken, too, though I thought this might be because of the chicken stock used for the steamboat in which the python was cooked.

I’m not sure now which to feel sorrier for, the python or the kitten. At least the kitten didn’t get thrown into a hot-pot.

Thankfully, pythons aren’t very cute (not even deep-fried), so I guess most people will save their sympathies for the kitten. However, sometimes in nature we just don’t have an ugly-beautiful contrast upon which to base our moral leanings, such as this article about cats vs birds.

Oh, and I managed to get the Exchange server back online. Problem was just the lack of scheduled backups, which resulted in the transaction logs growing out of control and taking up all the disk space.

They gave me cupcakes to take home.

Wherein I get the job

September 2, 2007

Well, like the title says–I got the job. Whee.

The second interview was much, much, much better. Evil HR woman wasn’t there.

The tiny font for the old layout hurt my eyes, so I switched to a Kubrick sucessor. It actually looks rather good, I think.

Porno freaks – again!

July 22, 2007

Just because I’m posting again, decided to read through some of my comments.

stranger@gmail.com’s left quite a few comments. Here’s one of his (gender an assumption):

Name: estrange | E-mail: stranger@gmail.com | IP:
Fat, lonely and unwanted kids are usually very cute

Just great. It used to be the Pokemon Porno freaks. Now I have the paedophiles.

I quote, from the (the best source I could find after 10 minutes of Googling on this):

Madonna, who is well known for her sensuous singing, acting and branding, has an intelligence quota rated at a genius level of 140 IQ.

Of course, the same article accords Madonna the praise generally reserved for tyrannical despots by their state-run publications and the Israel News Agency seems to be little better than some kind of SEO-driving cut-and-paste job, but I’m willing to believe that Madonna has enough IQ to get into Mensa. Also a little quote in IMDB on Madonna’s profile, but I’m not too sure how far verification goes in the editing this particular instance.

Just for comparison’s sake, I dug out Xiaxue’s article wherein she crows her triumph at getting into Mensa.

Oh, mensans, quit now.