After designing my own banner designs for my health fitness site, I’m since moved on to help others design theirs too! I guess they must like my artworks. Here’s a sampling of my creation

Grooming Workshops: Creating A First Impression that Lasts


Personal Training: Lose Weight, Burn Fat, Build Muscles Fast


Corporate Talks: Creating & Living the Life You Want!

And here are my latest designs for my friend’s singing website.

Your Personal Singing Guide Version 1

Your Personal Singing Guide Version 2

Your Personal Singing Guide Version 3

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I met someone new today and I was totally unexpected for what was to happen.

First up, Lionel officially became Leona. I know this is not the first time someone mispronounced or should I say mangled my name. But Leona? Am I the previous X Factor winner Leona Lewis who sold 6.5 million of her first album ‘Spirit’? If I were, I certainly wouldn’t mind. But sorry, I’m not her.

It is the accepted societal norm for guys to pay for the meal. But barely did my butt touch the seat when I was unceremoniously told the place I chose was too expensive and asked to take my leave. Okay, so the budget was only $5 for lunch. Roger that.

Sometimes, I think I should just not speak my mind so frankly. It’s scary how people just pick up my phrases and litter the entire conversation with it. It does get a little irritating after a while. Just because I said ‘the biological clock was ticking away’, the Miss used this phrase over and over again. I should have patented it.

The Miss argued with me that males do not have biological clocks. I disagreed and gave her a biological 101 lesson on the decreasing sperm count for males as they age. She listened with eyes wide open and thanked me profusely for updating her.

Throughout the small talk we made, the Miss asked me no less than 4 times this question which made me almost fall off the chair. ‘So what you think of me huh? Can or not?’ I don’t think I’m in the meat section choosing a piece of meat, am I? And even though the Miss was literally throwing herself at me, I pulled the breaks. Hey come on, have some modesty, will you?

I did my best to evade answering her on all 4 occasions. Yes, we can still be friends but I don’t think we can be life partners. Perhaps catching my drift, she became rather self-critical and turned her face sidewards towards me and pointed to her cheeks…‘you see, pimple pimple’. Alright, if you need a good brand of acne cream, I can recommend you.

Then she was at it again, this time more subtly. ‘So can you accept a woman older than you? 10 years can or not?’ While we read about scores of spring-autumn romances, I don’t think I can possibly accept one, especially when the age gap is so wide as a decade. I reminded the Miss that women tend to age faster than men so unless she was Demi Moore, then I don’t think it’s feasible.  

From the subject of cougars, she moved swiftly to the taboo topic of sex. Apparently the Miss was offered sex by some suitors. I congratulated her and probed if she did it. She naughtily said no, then came back to me for advice. I may not be the sex guru or tantric coach, but I think I must have given her a valuable tip. I must have stirred something in her as she perked up again. My advice to her was to do a striptease. As in a striptease, the hooker does not reveal everything. She does it piece by piece, so as to entice the client to come back for more. She praised me for being brilliant. I smiled and said it comes from learning from the University of Life, and not some outdated courses we took at varsity.

Upon scrutinising me further, she clapped her hands like a child and told me the more she looked at me, the more she agreed that I resembled someone working in the beauty industry. ‘You look different. Can see the glow, so healthy.’

And this was the same Miss who was rather critical about my profession initially, particularly its stability. So I asked her one simple question – ‘are you happy doing what you do at work?’ I had to force the confession out of her but she admitted she wasn’t.

Looking at the weather outside, she commented that her biological clock was ticking away just like the weather got gloomier as it heraled the arrival of a light drizzle. Then she got serious, looked at me and pleaded ‘you have men to introduce to me?’ Sorry, Miss, I don’t supply men. I proceeded to suggest that she register with a matchmaking agency.

Then she reinterated her previous proposal again ’so what you think of me huh? Can or not?’ It was at this juncture where I found an excuse to leave early. Thanks, but no thanks.

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又到了分手的时候
但我总觉得很难开口
是我懦弱
还是不够洒脱

我怕说了出口会伤害你
所以只好埋藏在心里
有些话真的不知该如何说起
因为我们曾发誓彼此就是唯一

我们之间出现的问题
是漫长岁月留下的痕迹
不是拥抱一下就能把它忘记
死了的心再努力也是在欺骗自己

分手的事我还是绝口不提
当你看了字条 我早已离去
若有人愿意 就让他陪你
希望你早日伤心痊愈

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Many of us enjoy marking out certain territories as our own in the same way warlords carved out empires of their own in feudal times. The easiest way to do this is to leave some item behind on purpose to send a signal that this is taken territory and others should steer clear of it.

If you have lunch at Raffles Place, it is a common sight to see packets of tissue on tables or seats. Yes, only packets of tissue and not human beings. Perhaps it is an accepted norm that if there is a tissue, that means that seat or table is taken. I find this incredulous. Not too long ago, a Caucasian couple on holiday in town had the fatal mistake of removing that sacred packet of tissue at a particular hawker centre and it incurred the wrath of the female group which staked earlier claim to that table. It was reported in the press that the local female group pointed to that packet of tissue and on sole merit of that tissue, chased the Caucasian couple away despite the fact that they had already started eating.

Today, I was also given a lesson on territorial rights in the gym. No, it wasn’t tissue paper that marked out the territory. It was a pair of metal handles. Nobody in the right frame of mind would bring his own metal handles to the gym when the gym is so fully equipped. Is H1N1 so infectious that Mr Clean has to carry his own equipment?

Like the Caucasian couple, I made the mistake of removing the metal handles and replacing it with the long bar for the lat pulldown machine. How would I know the metal handles didn’t belong to the gym? It wasn’t stated.

I knew only too late when this guy walked up to me and started telling me not to touch his metal handles. And before I knew it, he started a long soliloquy on the need to respect territorial rights. Tough luck!

In all respects, there wasn’t any towel, water bottle or for lack of better imagination, a packet of tissue on the machine. So naturally one would expect that no one was using it.

It’s obvious people don’t understand that some things in life can be shared. Machines can be shared. Why be so selfish as to hog the machine, then walk away to do something else and come back to reclaim it later?

Be more magnanimous in your heart and be a happier person, man!

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I practise this simple but effective maxim of not ‘eating and shitting in the same backyard’. Translated into layman terms, it means not dating or having a relationship with someone from the same organization or within the same industry.

You never know when things will turn ugly. In the beginning when it is still honeymoon period, one gets too head over heels with each other to sweat about the small stuff. It’s alright for you to burp in front of me. My burp is testimony that my cooking is good and you appreciate the food, isn’t it? It’s alright for you to fart in front of me. My fart is like the perfume you spray on yourself, isn’t it?

But when reality sets in and the honeymoon period is over, then one starts examining the little nitty gritties and that’s when one starts getting irritated. Your burp disgusts me. How can the supposedly well groomed you burp in front of me? It just shows your lack of table manners, doesn’t it? Your fart suffocates me. How can you not control your fart? You think your fart is sweet smelling? Let me tell you it stinks just like your mouth.

Should you choose to eat and shit in the same backyard, then good luck. You better pray that the relationship lasts because should it not, then God save your soul. You will still need to face your ex everyday unless one chooses to resign from that organization/industry. Imagine how awkward it would be when both are assigned to work on the same project.

A good friend is currently facing the same situation. I can’t say the relationship is over for good. There are still traces of amorous goodwill between the two of them as both have been together for a considerably long period of time. It’s difficult to take a pair of scissors and just cut away the ties that bind. It is more complicated than that. One feels stifled while the other starts getting possessive. One becomes unhappy when the other starts spending less couple time together. And since both are working in the same organization, it’s difficult to avoid seeing each other while trying to deal with the issues at hand.

Whatever the outcome may be, I wish them well as they must have weathered other bigger storms before. Love conquers everything.

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I think I must be fast shrinking. Or I have suddenly become minuscule that I am now invisible in the eyes of others. If not for either of these reasons, how can one explain why someone succeeded in cutting my queue again today?

I certainly do not walk around with the words ‘please cut my queue’ plastered on my forehead. Neither do I attempt to show so much courtesy that I will volunteer to stand last in line for anything.

After the man in front of me finished ordering, this auntie standing behind me initially nonchalantly walked up. Immediately, I sensed something was amiss as my position was now usurped. True enough, she lifted her chin high in the air and started ordering.

Excuse me, just because you are a lady, you have the right to cut my queue? Think again. Excuse me, just because you are a lady with thick makeup, you have the right to cut my queue? Think again. Excuse me, just because you are a lady with thick makeup carrying an LV handbag the tai-tai way, you have the right to cut my queue? Think again.

Sick and tired of how i was treated (Ok, I know I don’t carry an LV bag), I decided to put her in her rightful place. If she thinks she can use her thick makeup and LV bag to make me look small, she ought to think twice.

I responded almost immediately as she read out her orders. I didn’t even need to think.

The words just came out from my mouth – harsh, cold and acidic in its purest form. ‘Don’t you know how to queue?’

Completely jerked out of her reverie, with her awkward pointing hands still in mid-air, she gave one of the most feeble replies I’ve ever heard in Mandarin. 谁先都没有关系 (‘it doesn’t matter who orders first’)

Oh I see. Now you are trying to portray yourself as the victim, the proverbial damsel in distress, right? And I’m the aggressor, the big bad wolf, the mean wicked one, right? You were the one who was not content to stick faithfully to the queue sequence. You were the one with the itchy posterior who thought cutting the queue of Mr Nice Guy in front was your perogative. You were the one who needed to be taught a lesson in humility today.

Lady, you have learnt your lesson today. Always remember today’s episode and think twice before you attempt to push your luck.

In the end, having achieved my aim of educating her of the importance of social graces, I told her it’s alright.

One should have seen her pick out her orders in double-quick time, bow her head sheepishly and fade quickly into the afternoon lunch crowd.

I simply cannot understand the human psyche. Why attempt to create trouble when all is calm and peaceful in lala-land? Only when you kena slap then you are happy…tsk tsk…Just be obedient and follow the rules lah!

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I’m feeling terribly lousy about myself now. I still am. In fact, I just feel like beating myself up. And I have every reason to do so.

For all my carelessness and uselessness, I actually broke the angel figurine Grandma gave me. Once perched high above the bathroom latch next to the window, it was a perennial point of discussion for many who marveled at its intricacy, beauty and chastity, not forgetting the purity it represented which blended in perfectly with the white wall tiles. But whatever goodness it represents is now history. I broke it while cleaning it this morning. I have no excuse to forgive myself.

Where the angel used to stand…

At that moment when it slipped out of my hands, I could only watch it break into pieces as it hit the ground. At that very instant, the floodgates of my memories start to swell and my eyes feel moist. It was as if I was reliving the painful scene of watching my loved ones slip away from my side and die before my very own eyes with the helpless me unable to do anything. I feel so miserable at my inability to act. Why am I always so slow to react? Why must things always happen to me before I start to cherish what I already have?

Looking at the broken pieces of the fallen angel is akin to looking at the numerous times I have broken my promises and the numerous times I have broken someone else’s heart with my words or actions. I am definitely not an angel.

The broken fragments of the fallen angel

What remains of the fallen angel is this pair of wings that miraculously survived the hard fall. I will keep this pair of wings as it is perhaps symbolic of all the goodness which people around me who genuinely care for me is all about. You don’t grow angel wings unless you truly deserve them. Perhaps one day I’ll find my own pair of angel wings. But for now as I continue to pick up the broken pieces, I know getting my own wings will be one long road ahead.

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I was mistaken as someone’s third party today. Heaven forbid! Since when did I gain the dubious honour for having such vixen charm to cause such unhappiness? But this little episode also goes to show that if you care about someone, you will get jealous no matter what happens. If your other half starts getting chummy with someone else or seems to be walking on cloud nine recently, alarm bells may be bringing. But at the end of the day, open communication and trust are the important ingredients in any relationship. The only scary thing is that you may care too much for the love to turn possessive. Take heed, my friends.

Still chuckling at this misunderstanding, I wrote this in the bus on my way home.

Jealousy

Even though you and I have parted ways,
you are still tracked within my vision ray.
When I see you make eyes at someone else
When I see you become happy of late
I can’t help it but start to get jealous.
You can’t blame me. This is human nature.
Was it not me you hugged fervently once?
Was it not me you kissed tenderly once?
Was it not me you loved ardently once?
Come soothe my ruffled feathers. Speak your ground.
Come nurse my bruised ego. I’m still around.
Once you were my dear and always will be.
Try you may but you cannot hide from me.
Deep down, I know not how to set you free.

Lionel L
(09 Nov 09)

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If you want to attract attention, you cannot just follow the masses and do what they do. You must break new grounds and dare to be different. That makes the difference between a market leader and a market follower. That also is the differentiating point that separates good advertisement from a great advertisement.

For centuries (I don’t know who came up with this rule that has remained the cornerstone of all relationships developing into marriage), the guy is always the one who has to propose to the lady with a ring on bent knees. This is the moment all ladies look forward to as they are thrust into a position of saying ‘yes’ with tears and joy…OR rejecting the proposal with a ‘no’ which probably means the poor guy has to try harder next time. It could also mean either she’s not ready or the ring is not bling enough. Get the hint?

I had the last laugh today when I saw this witty advertisement which did not prescribe to the norm. Instead, look what I saw. It is the lady who goes down on her knees to propose to the man with a ring. Oh my god. This is so Sandra Bullock in ‘The Proposal’ where she proposes kneeling in the streets of New York to Ryan Reynolds.

Hip hip hurray, the tables have been turned. And guess what? That’s not all. When the lady kneels and proposes, the couple gets to win a free honeymoon to Disneyland.

Alright, lady. For the sake of the grand holiday prize and your future happiness, kneel and propose if you need to. This is precisely what these women captured here did and subsequently won. Hehehehehehehe….

Ok. I’m waiting. Anyone who wears a dress wanna kneel and propose with a huge, bling bling ring? I’ll say YES! And will I burst into tears? You bet I WILL!

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Step into a bread shop and what do you expect to see? Bread, cakes and pastries. And perhaps more shall I add?

Who would have imagined attending a mini lesson in poetry simply by stepping into a bread shop? Yet I stumbled upon this discovery when I walked in.

There, above the lovely, freshly baked bread pieces was this poem.

Sounding poetic and perhaps a little romantic as well, I was instantly swept away by the emotive feelings that were aroused in me. Yes, It’s the same feeling you get when you see that special someone from a distance away walking or running towards you on the sandy beach. Or recall the popular Hindi movies where both the lead actor and actress would make eyes at each other while running around the coconut tree? Yes, it is the same feeling. Only this time, we are all transported to Harajuku. Never mind the exact location, just focus and let our eyes meet. Because when our eyes meet, at that fleeting moment, I know it is you that I’ve been waiting for all my life.

Yet sadly, the pseudo bread poem did not continue building up the feelings lingering in the couple at Harajuku. Instead, it went off tangent immediately by describing the contents and softness of the bread. It’s a real pity.

Soft and succulent skin of my lover? No, it’s the bread’s texture they are talking about. Fresh aroma of my lover? Again no it’s the bread’s unique smell they are describing.

One bite from you and one bite from me? You mean to say when lovers meet after being separated, they bite into each other’s skin to satisfy their yearning? I bet the Cowherd and Maiden who meet only once a year do not turn carnivores. No, no…it’s the bread they are talking about.

To sum up my feelings, I felt touched initially. Then whatever remnants that were left were instantly converted to feeling corny.

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