
So macabre and alive. When people die, all that’s left is a smiling skull.
See more of Georgia Russell’s work here.

So macabre and alive. When people die, all that’s left is a smiling skull.
See more of Georgia Russell’s work here.
The inhabitants of Goblin Market conduct their lives in Katong Shopping Centre, and also around several mama shops in the surrounding regions.
Last night we went to several mama shops in search of kana and Bee Bee.
(For non-Singapooreans, kana is sort of like a preserved olive. But it is not a preserved olive. It is a kana. Bee Bee is one of those childhood snacks that everybody ate in copious amounts, only to realise that it’s toxic waste after they grow up. And we still want to eat it.)
This is the mama shop in Marine Drive where we found kana and Bee Bee. As you can see, they also sell slippers, which we only, very narrowly, stopped ourselves from buying.
Here is a picture of another mama shop in Marine Terrace:
I am including it because A Kamal used to own the mama shop downstairs where I lived. I bought many boxes of Xiao Ding Dang (fake Doraemon brand chocolate that came with a toy) from him, and he directly contributed to my quick ascent to rotundness. Eventually, he sold enough toxic waste to children to move to his current larger premise in Marine Terrace.
This is a packet of kana:
As you can see there are only three kana (what is the plural of kana? is it kanas? sounds wrong because kana should exist outside the rules of grammar, since it exists outside the English vocabulary) inside the packet, and it cost us an exorbitant 50 cents. Goblin Market is currently in talks with the Marine Drive mama shop to buy a whole jar at a more reasonable rate, so you may soon be able to buy one at the store or webshop.
Kana is preserved in a sweet, red liquid. After you eat kana, you acquire an affliction called the Kana Tongue.
This is a packet of Bee Bee:
As you can see from the back of the packet, you can wave Bee Bee around like a manifesto and then share the packet with your comrades.
After a long, stressful day, you can sit down and enjoy a kana and Bee Bee meal.
Let’s tuck in!
Plus points for the kana being seedless and juicy. Minus points for being too kiam (salty) and in such small portions.




4/5 goblins for Kana
Plus points for Bee Bee still tasting as good after all these years and for still turning your fingers orange for the next couple of hours. Minus points for having shrunk in size. I like my toxic waste the size of Homer Simpson’s ass.




4/5 goblins for Bee Bee
Father Yod was a Hollywood stuntman/actor turned cult leader who ran a multi-million dollar vegetarian restaurant to support his 250 person- strong commune. He had 13 wives (one of whom is named Buttercup), and eventually died in a hang gliding accident in Hawaii. All in all Father Yod had a damn good time on Earth.
Mother Goblin, (not Wiki’ed, but definitely deserves to be Wiki’ed) who would like to be Father Yod in another life (not Buttercup), recently returned from a holiday, and brought with her the following gifts:
Mother Goblin packaged all these in a bright yellow Simpson’s recyclable bag, which we all liked very much.
Mother Goblin wants the bag back.
Frida Kahlo is born on the 7th July, 1910.
She could love an elephantine man. She said she only wanted three things in life: to live with Diego, to continue painting and to belong to the Communist party.
Frida also said, when she understood more of what Surrealism must be, “I never painted dreams. I paint my own reality.”
I used to write my reality. Only images are left now.
“The Yearning has a Wrench” by Goblin Market.
Printed on archival paper, A3.

Available at the shop.
Carla Bruni is apparently the French president’s new girlfriend. In France, you can still be taken seriously as a president when you dump your supermodel wife and then hook up with another supermodel, all of which can take place while, on top of dealing with garden variety global issues, you’re trying to stop transport workers from striking.
Carla Bruni recently released a record called No Promises where she puts music to poetry. It’s a good record, and it was all the girl listened to while she painted our walls. You can see Carla Bruni singing bits of the record and saying bimbotic things about poetry here.
She says that “Poetry reaches such a level of deepness and perfection… It’s all about the deepness,” which means that she understands the poems as much as a monkey understands monkey science. But unlike the monkey, the French president is on her side of deepness and perfection, which sure helps matters!
I’m just a Rebel L without a cause.
And when, in the city in which I love you,
even my most excellent song goes unanswered,
and I mount the scabbed streets,
the long shouts of avenues,
and tunnel sunken night in search of you... Read the rest of this entry
