Conspermification

Competitive Environmentalism

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

There was a running campaign in school that debunked the wasteful use of plastic bags. But they put up so many posters (like at every pillar) that I couldn't help but to take a jab at them. So I put up that plastic bag.

Sprouting Nonsense Since 1984 {2:57 pm}

The Epic Post

Sunday, October 14, 2007

I try to blog at least once a month. Honest. But sometimes there's really nothing to blog about then what happens then? Do I make some mundane post? Write about what I did today or maybe just slap on some lyrics of a sappy song and make that a post? No. I have too much respect for my blog and my legion of readers to do that. Then again sometimes, you just wait too long for something significant to happen. Something truly blog worthy. Then your expectations get higher... and higher with each day that passes without a post. Suddenly, nothing seems important or spectacular enough to break that post drought because of the fear; the fear that this topic that you've chosen to immortalize in the form of a blogpost has fallen short of the collective anticipation of your audience. And the fear is crippling. As the expectations escalate you await for something truly EPIC.

After two months, the search is over. BEHOLD the EPIC post!!!

The story cannot be told without first talking about my Monday class. This semester marks the commencement of the academic progression of my degree Majors in Marketing and Operations Management (OM). OM is evidently not too popular in SMU and only one class of each is offered for each of the two pre-requisite modules that all OM majors must take. "Conveniently", both these classes are scheduled on Monday thus automatically making the lousiest day of the week simultaneously the longest.

So the first day I stepped into class I saw this loser standing there with a cap and sunglasses on. And we all know how those are vital life-support equipment indoors away from the sun. But more than that, he was wearing a tight fitting black singlet and an equally snug pair of jeans and I was like, weirdo. Minutes later I realised that that person was actually my Professor for SP, BJ Park. Beyond his dress sense, Park is different to say the least. For one on the very first day he articulated his business philosophy: There is no right or wrong in business, only success or failure. Wtf? I know that that's true but is that really what you should be teaching students?

But the other interesting thing about him is he encourages you to be out rightly hostile towards others in the class by making each weeks presentation a competition that has a winner who will get a better a grade and a loser who will become, well losers. During one of the week's presentation, I got into an argument with one of the other students about a point in contention. He was obviously mistaken and his argument flawed as is normally the case for all people who contest my opinions - I am as infallible as I am sexy. Finally at the end of the argument, he ended off my d`uh-ing me. WTF? He DUH-ed ME!
Me?!??!
MOI?!!?

NO ONE DUHS ME. NO ONE. And the worst thing of all is that he's a f*cking sissy. At the end of the lesson he came to apologise to me because he knew that he had stirred a giant. Oh how he trembled and how he cowered before me as he extended his hand in apology. But what choice did he have? The alternative was to face my unending wrath for the rest of the semester. I accepted the apology or so that was what I led him to believe. For I want him to let his guard down and so that one day I may catch him unawares and with his pants down. And when he tries to flee it will be pathetic because his pants will be bunched up around his ankle and he will not be able to run away quickly enough!! And when he trips, oh he will surely trip! I WILL BE THERE LAUGHING!! LAUGHING as I do terrible and unspeakable things to him and he will RUE the day that he duh-ed VINCENT FU! I want him to think that I've forgiven him for the knife that is the most dangerous... is the one that is unseen.

Divine providence has put his group against mine in the coming presentation. Where our groups will square off and only one will emerge victorious. They don't stand a chance of surviving this encounter. Already my group has begun preparation for operation: obliterate and the f*cking sissy will regret the day that his father set his eyes upon his mother.

On with the story.

And so half the semester has gone by and last week saw me soul-bound to the library. As I was in school studying for my mid-terms, my friends and I dropped by at the school's Watsons to buy some study food. Since there was an offer going on where if we bought 10 items that were worth $1.95 each we'd get the 11th item free, Joshua, JX and me decided to go wild. We agreed that we would simply agree on an 11th item and share that amongst ourselves. To that end we selected a box of delicious looking cookies.

Now let me draw your attention to the packaging. It says here. Servings per container: 9. This was of course a delightful number being that it was divisible by the number of people in the group: 3. The plan, elegant in its simplicity, was to divide the number of servings by the number of people. Simple arithmetic computed that each of us would be entitled to 3 cookies thus exponentially increasing our mental capacity for facts to increase by a factor of 3. As I drew the cookies from its packaging I observed something peculiar, something out of the ordinary. The distribution of the cookies.... were not uniform.

At this point of time I feel that I must address a concern that no doubt has manifested in many of your minds. What on Earth does the cookies have to do with the first part of the story about the duh-ing sissy? The answer is: Nothing. I just decided that I needed to write about the duh-ing sissy. Just look at it as if it was the trailers before the feature presentation: the EPIC post.

By now you would have seen what I've seen. The missing cookie. Frozen in confusion I looked at Joshua and asked him, "What do we do? There is a cookie missing." Here we were faced with a conundrum. Going back to Watsons to ask for a change of cookies seemed excessive for something so frivolous. But at the same time, our plan was anything but frivolous. It was crucial that each member of our coterie received their fair allotment of cookies. The cookies were imperative to our bond as a group of friends. We, who were all equals; how could any of us be judge and juror and decide who gets short changed of a cookie? In the end, it seemed we would have no choice. I went back downstairs FOUR storeys to ask for an exchange.

Would it be that the story ended there things would have been resolved. But we lived in a complicated time. ALAS! Upon opening the new package of cookies, there were also only 8 inside! But why?!? The packaging clearly states that there are 9 servings per container! Unless of course each cookie represented 1.11111111111(reiterate into infinity) servings? But that didn't make any sense! Why would Bergen Cookies seek to complicate things by making the number of servings indivisible by the number of cookies?

In the end we were ultimately faced with the same problem that we had tried to hopelessly to avoid. Who would get the cookies? Even if we tried to share the last two cookies it would be impossible! Each cookie weighed 22g and together they weighed 44g. I cannot divide 44 by 3!! ARGH! In the end Joshua and me had no choice but to simply eat up all the cookies because they tasted so good and JX was in the toilet.

Ultimately this post wasn't EPIC in the way many of you might have thought. At the end of the day the topic was still pretty much unspectacular. However it was EPIC because of the bold use of CAPS and Accentuation as well as the inclusion of pictures. Pictures are a rare treat on my blog because.. like the reason why I don't blog more often, I am mind-numbingly lazy.

Things on my mind:
Operation: Obliterate
Team Fortress 2
The Cake is a lie
Boobies (Esp. the ones from CB class)

Sprouting Nonsense Since 1984 {10:24 pm}