Archive for August, 2008

what’s worse than…?

A “What’s worse than…?” joke popped up in my head today.

But before I tell it, here’re some examples of “What’s worse than…?” jokes, courtesy of my father:

Q: What’s worse than a fire engine blasting it’s siren while you’re trying to sleep?

A: Two fire engines blasting their sirens while you’re trying to sleep.

The next one also involves numbers, but in a different way:

Q: What’s worse than finding a worm in your apple?

A: Finding half a worm in your apple.

(I’d suggest using a “W” rotated 90 degrees to indicate “worse than”, just like “>” indicates “more than”, but there are no symbols for that yet, so I can’t type it out…)

Now on to today’s “What’s worse than…?” joke:

Q: What’s worse than leaving a shoeprint in wet cement?

A: Leaving a shoe in wet cement.

It came to me while I was walking past a patch on the ground with wet cement. Naturally, there were paw prints in it. But this time, I saw a mark that looked like someone had stepped in it, and then tried to cover it back up. Then I thought there might be people who accidentally stepped into wet cement, and in an effort not to leave their shoeprints there, deciding to leave their whole shoe there instead.

(I might decide to do that one day.)

As I started thinking about “What’s worse than…?” jokes (they’re not much better (or not much worse?) than “Knock knock” jokes… haha), and how they usually end up with people giving you the -.- look, I came up with another one:

Q: What’s worse than a “What’s worse than…?” question?


<suspenseful pause>

A: Its answer.

Hee =p


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My england belly powder one,

But peepur say too chim,

So i lite dis singlish song

Like dose in Jack Neo flim.


I tly to ting of good idea,

I ting until head pain,

But got no idea come to me…

I ohmose gorhna fain!


My flen deyor say, “CMI!

Liddat is cannot one!

Pohyem must be one languhlage,

You cannot chiap-pa-lan!”


I noe my flens is not corright,

And so i lite dis song,

For orh my singahpolean flens

(Pai seh, my speowling long…)!

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From today’s Christian Quotation of the Day:

We may with complete detachment study and form a judgement upon a religion, but we cannot maintain our detachment if the subject of our inquiry proves to be God Himself. This is, of course, why many otherwise honest intellectual people will construct a neat by-pass around the claim of Jesus to be God. Being people of insight and imagination, they know perfectly well that once to accept such a claim as fact would mean a readjustment of their own purposes and values and affections which they may have no wish to make. To call Jesus the greatest Figure in History or the finest Moral Teacher the world has ever seen commits no one to anything. But once to allow the startled mind to accept as fact that this man is really focused-God may commit anyone to anything! There is every excuse for blundering in the dark, but in the light there is no cover from reality. It is because we strongly sense this, and not merely because we feel that the evidence is ancient and scanty, that we shrink from committing ourselves to such a far-reaching belief as that Jesus Christ was really God.

J. B. Phillips, Your God is Too Small

Reminds me of something I read by Paul Tillich about Theology. But I’ll post that another time, when I happen to chance across it again…

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school of thought

The more I read, the more I’m impressed.

Not only does it have it’s own cafe (see previous post), School of Thought‘s got it’s own current affairs magazine specially for helping students in their GP. And it looks really quite well done!

And it’s got civic education programmes and school workshops and (from what I read on their website) a really dedicated team of tutors who don’t just want to teach, but to change lives.

Just read the testimonies: “a great place where miracles happen”, “not only a school of thought but a school of hope too”, “shaped my thinking and brought it to a higher level of maturity”, “see that I am indeed a blessed person”, “inculcated its students with selflessness and the joy of giving”, “more prepared to enter the adults’ world”, “more aware of the many things that may make me lose my direction in life”…

Imagine saying all those things about a tuition centre! Instead of the usual “good grades”, “made learning fun and interesting” &c…  (which I’m sure they also provide. But notice the difference in focus!)

Impressed. Truly impressed.

(And inspired too. The least I can do is mention it here on my blog!)

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food for thought

Thanks to the cafe on NLB’s 3rd floor closing on Mondays, we ended having lunch at food for thought, a quaint, cosy cafe with quality cuisine.

And it’s all done by young people!!, who believe that “Profit need not be at the centre. People and Principles ought to be.”

Their missions are to Support Clean Water, Feed Good Food (and boy, is it good!), Help End Poverty, Educate The People (they have a sister organization called school of thought) and Encourage Kind Acts. Refreshingly optimistic, idealistic and altruistic!

Just compare their posters (the ones with their missions) with those in Burger King, say, where customer is king, no, almighty ruler, and it’s all about Having it Your Way.

I’m impressed by what a bunch of committed young men and women are capable of…

So yeah. Go visit the site.

Or better still, visit the cafe!

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very bad poetry

Hilarious anthology! Read the introduction:

I seemed to feel as it were a strange kind of feeling stealing over me, and remained so for about five minutes. A flame, as Lord Byron has said, seemed to kindle up my entire frame, along with a strong desire to write poetry…

It was so strong I imagined that a pen was in my right hand, and a voice crying, “Write Write!” So I said to myself, ruminating, let me see; what shall I write? then all at once a bright idea struck me.

So did WIlliam McGonagall, probably one of the worst poets of the English language, describe his first session with the poetic Muse.

A compulsion to write verse, and a happy delusion regarding talent–that is the beginning of a very bad poet. Very bad poets are perpetrators of a unique and fascinating type of writing. Unlike the plainly bad or the merely mediocre, very bad poetry is powerful stuff. Like great literature, it moves us emotionally, but, of course, it often does so in ways the writer never intended: usually we laugh.


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