Category Archives: Arts

Film, Music, Theatre, Arts…

Harajuku Girls in Love

Get­ting out of the Hara­juku Sta­tion on a Sun­day morn­ing can be quite a chal­lenge. For one thing, there are thou­sands of peo­ple in front of you, try­ing to get our also but not in any par­tic­u­lar hurry.
They are here for people-watching, yes, but most of them are here to be watched also. Con­fused? Look closer…
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Where

London

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Lon­don Call­ing
London’s call­ing. Heathrow, here I come. The plane soars from Changi and our vaca­tion begins good and proper in the air, I think. Here and now, sur­rounded by clouds and clar­ity, we for­get our trou­bles and the toil of a 9-to-5, Monday-till-Friday work­week. A new leash of life.
I have been trav­el­ling a lot lately for

50 First Movie Dates

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There’s a new Star Trek movie out. I hear Cap­tain Kirk does the doozy with a hot green alien chick in it. What more do we need?
But you’re not con­vinced.
“What’s Star Trek?”
“Well, it’s based on this 70’s TV series with Fed­er­a­tion Starfleets and warp drive and ooh! the Vul­can nerve pinch and they made a num­ber of

Fried Chillies & Feisty Chicks

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The ladies, they do, of course, spice up your life. With their smiles enchant­ing and their wiles beguil­ing, we are gladly snared in their soft and ten­der snatches, their slow swoon­ing upon our big, strong arms (even if ours aren’t, not really). Women made of iron, of steel, sleek and shiny but never cold to touch.
Bryan

Oxtentatiously Oxpicious

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Gong Xi Fa Cai! 新年快乐 Xīn Nián Kuài Lè! Chúc mừng năm mới! Gung Hei Faat Choy!
And of course, the good ol’ “Happy Chi­nese New Year!”
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Now I would nor­mally end this post with these greet­ings, but it felt right for once to begin where we should begin. To greet every­one with Have your­self a jolly good year

Celebration!

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“How very queer,” said Mrs. Duck to Mr. Bunny. “I thought Snow White was a myth. A Fairy Tale. Some­thing old drakes would tell the young duck­lings. Who­ever heard of a princess spend­ing her buoy­ant and bosomy hours with seven swarthy, sweaty dwarves in a cave dark and dank? Unthink­able. Scan­dalous.”
“Well,” replied Mr. Bunny,

We Are Children

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They say Christ­mas is for chil­dren, don’t they? For­tu­nately for us, no one ever spec­i­fied an age limit. We are kids again, wait­ing for Santa and gifts and kisses under­neath the mistle­toe.
The turkey is per­fect this year, cooked to per­fec­tion and carved with sur­gi­cal pre­ci­sion. Guests that arrive gather around the din­ner table, drawn by