The Perils of PSP Piracy

Here's to all of you thinking of pirating your PSP games, there are amazing consequences. Let me just highlight some of them.

First, you need to buy a large Memory Stick, 1GB or 2GB. That's going to cost you some money, and *gasp*, you will be able to fill it up with music for listening on the go, a couple of video clips along with maybe two games without any extra baggage! How horrible, imagine the dilemma you would have in choosing what form of entertainment you want while on the go.

Second, you will get your PSP games earlier than when it is released officially. For one, you won't be able to participate in the festivity of queueing up overnight for a great game like Winning Eleven 9 at your game shop. Instead, you will be downloading it off some website or P2P program alone at home. How anti-social!

You're going to spend about $150 on that memory stick. That's like.. the cost of 2 games! You will be swapping games in and out of that memory stick cos it won't be able to contain the almost 20 games you have downloaded. What a waste of time, copying files in and out. And 20 games? How in the world are you going to be able to choose what to play?

No. 4, your games will load much faster than someone who uses the game disc. Instead of waiting 45s for a WE9 match to start, your load time is instantaneous. There's no way you will be able to prepare yourself for an intense match like that with so little time. What's more, if good things are worth waiting for, and you never have to wait for anything, how will you appreciate what is coming?


And imagine the guilt.. oh wait, scrap that, that doesn't make any sense.

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Thanks Sony and Konami, for making your loyal customers feel like fools. We really appreciate it.

A Letter to the President(ial Candidate)

Dear Mr Presidential Candidate,

I read with great sadness of your failed application for presidency. It was a double blow for me as that also meant my noble aspirations to be the best secretary of state the world has ever seen have been dashed. It seems our plans to conquer Singapore have to be shelved for 6 more years. But rather than using the 6 years to hatch new plans and come up with an even better nostril smiting blow, what say we have a slight change in plans and attempt to oust the incumbent US president instead?

My sources tell me that his popularity is at an all time low because of his incompetency with the handling of the Hurricane Katrina aftermath. So what better time than now to rise up and smite his nostrils? The time is ripe, the ultimate prize is up there for the taking. Who cares about the Singaporean presidency? If we succeed, the entire free world shall be ours, Singapore included.

We have to act fast. Rumours are already swirling in the air of an impending coup and we have to strike before it reaches the president's ears. "To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under the sun". I say NOW is our season, NOW is our time. Let us go forth and not look back!

I await your reply with great anticipation.

Kind regards,

Secretary of State-to-be

On being fat

When I was fat, the world was a smaller place. The trees were thinner, the pants were tighter and sofas were somehow less comfy.

When I was fat, fat jokes were doubly funny.

When I was fat, I had no seesaw buddies.

When I was fat, the world was a cheery place. Everywhere I went, there was laughter – especially during P.E. lessons.

When I was fat, girls thought I was cute. They’d pinch me and giggle and giggle and pinch me. Not one would sleep with me though. And now that I’m not fat, they still won’t. This makes me sad.

When I was fat, fashion didn’t matter. A towel was as good as a shirt was as good as a tarpaulin.

When I was fat, I wanted to be thin. Now that I am, it doesn’t seem to matter that much anymore.

Save the criticism. I thought this up on a toilet bowl.

Meme – Three facts about me.

I got tagged by Jean so I’m supposed to disclose three facts you might not know about me. After all of you wake up, I’ll tag another five lucky ones to reveal three facts about themselves and so on and so forth. Here goes.

I lived in the Philippines for two years (or was it three?) during my childhood. This means I spent a significant proportion of my formative years devouring roasted quail and balut – which is really duck foetuses steamed in the shell; beak, feathers and all (it’s not so bad when you don’t know what you’re putting in your mouth). I also vaguely remember being very excited during a typhoon.

I suffer from ankylosing spondylitis – a gradual stiffening of the spine usually accompanied by arthritis-like symptoms. Due to this, I don’t have to serve my reservist cycle and have thus forgotten the meanings of the terms ICT and IPPT. Thankfully though, other than the daily pill popping, I’m still able to live a normal life. Nonetheless, any donations to the Help-Joel-Live-Even-More-Comfortably fund would be most welcome.

Lastly, despite appearances to the contrary, the circumference of my head as measured from two centimetres above the eyebrow is a mere 57cm.


And I tag:
Vanessa
Gavin
Eunice
John – this is my way of forcing you to post something.
Carine – don’t worry, your top secret blog is safe with me.

Saw a guy at City Hall MRT Station with the words “Do you really want to live forever?” emblazoned in stiff, unfriendly letters on the front of his shirt. A poignant question for most of us and one that not many can answer for sure. But alas for him, the answer was clear. After all, life must be awfully tough when you look like a monkfish.

That hideous fish is edible, by the way. It’s even referred to as the “poor man’s lobster” because its meat is dense and tastes very similar to that of the aforementioned crustacean. Still, you wouldn’t catch me running lasciviously after one.

Just you wait

It seems that the President has been sworn in again. Darn.

Our beloved source of national pride and unrivalled trumpet-blower, CNA, reports that so and so has been “elected for another six years after he was returned unopposed… yadda yadda yadda.” Unopposed, they say. And what about my application? Thrown in the bin? Used as asswipe? The bastards. And they hadn’t even the courtesy to give me a ring.

Still, much as my heart aches, life must go on. I will wallow in my copywriting incompetency for the next six years and then rise up and smite them in the nostrils when they least expect it. Just you wait.