Inanity

I apologise for the relatively long lapse in posts. Being home, I'm trying to do as much nothing as I possibly can. I'm soaking up Penang!

Provisional results are wholly out. Might have flunked one paper (Renal & Urinary Diseases), but won't know for sure until the end of June, when the finalised results will be released. I don't give a fuck, really. Everytime I think about school I feel like raping old ladies, so I'm trying not to go there too much. I'll see what happens.

Have had nothing constructive to say since I got home, and this post is no different. Forgive the inanity; I don't want to think above the absolutely necessary. Pictures it is, then, of what happened over the weekend..


Hokkien Mee and Apom Manis in Jelutong for breakfast. Man, I've had wet dreams about this when in Dublin. Haha. Ha. Ha.


Sisters' Char Koay Teow! Also Jawa Mee & Lor Mee at the side. Admittedly, the Char Koay Teow at Lorong Selamat is marginally better, but I try not to go there as the lady who chars the koay teow is a cocky bitch. She never leaves the taugeh out of my koay teow.

I don't eat taugeh.


I need my weekly fix of see ham (cockles). It's an unhealthy addiction, I know. Hepatitis B-inducing and extremely dirty. But when it tastes this good, who cares, really? Ciak ham (eating cockles, Hokkien) is slang for eating a girl out. Wahey! You're smarter now than you were two seconds ago!


My very own drunkometer. I'm able to easily gauge how drunk I am. An old scar on me left hand gets redder the further I fall. I'm bloody amazing, I know. Thank you.


The farmer himself. When not working, the farmer bonds with his son over Char Koay Teow in Lorong Selamat. Obviously, the farmer has no qualms about cocky hawkers. Or taugeh.


The new place. The farmer is especially pleased with the address. No more definitely definitely die die shite this time around.


CC was over in the new place; he volunteered to be our kuli baruah for a day. Free labour. Thanks, yeah? We spent hours and hours cutting up old cardboard boxes. What for?


This. The farmer is paranoid about workers scratching the wood floor.

Have finally bought a bed. Looks sturdy enough to withstand repeated sessions of seed-sowing over many, many years. Want to find out for sure, though. Any volunteers?

Sunshine

It's a beautiful morning.

Things are going good. Provisional results for two papers (of four in total) have been released. I'm alright thus far. Hope the remaining two don't let me down.

I found my SIM card. Wahey!

Gathered at Crown Prince (or is it Crown Jewel now?) beach last night. Was Eugene's 21st. It was fantastic to be back on the sand.


Half of Jin Khuan, birthday boy with the sausage & Sandeep the fatty.


Jin Khuan, Eugene, the fatty downing barbeque sauce, Dana & Kah Siang.


Chiun Cherng/CC/kang hu kia/anchovy/ikan bilis/cibai gina.


Sandeep Shaka/drunkard/fatty singh/bai. Was great seeing you again after so long, bitch.


Eugene getting randy and CC enjoying it.


Happiness is being on the beach back home, bare feet in the sand. Sexciting.

Things are going well. The new place is coming along nicely. Gotta say I'm a wee bit excited about moving.

Dad just came in to bum a fag from me. He says not to tell ma. My family is freaking weird, balls. I'm losing track of what I can't tell who.

Going to the new place now. Have to make sure the workers don't piss in my room toilet as the flush has yet to be installed.

Lost & Found

My house is a fucking warzone, akin to kao kia kan gu, chut lai ngiao kia (puppy dog fucks cow, kitten comes out = insanely messed up).

There's shit lying around everywhere, as we're (hopelessly) organizing our possesions in light of moving. It's so messy I get a headache just looking at it. I can't even walk around the house properly; I have to constantly adjust my steps, dodge/jump over over my mom's pasar malam shit.

Like dad says, macam kena tsunami.

I am sipek tulan. I can't find my Irish SIM card. Not only does it have immense senti value, there's a financial side to it as well. It comes with free texts for life, so long as you top up by twenty euros a month. Which is freaking fantastic.

Being the selfish bitch that I am, I've relied solely on texts as a means of communication in Dublin. The free text promotion has long ended, and if I fail to recover my SIM card, I'd have forsaken the luxury of innumerable one worded texts to Nick, Sim, Ron & Ben.

Kanina. I am sipek tulan!

I bribed my mom into helping me frisk the house for the aforementioned item last night. I told her if she recovered it, I'd stop smoking in my sister's room and proceed to bring my addiction outside.

I've never seen such enthusiasm in a person looking for something that's not his/hers.

We were sifting through tons of my sister's rubbish, when my mom found a picture of my sister's ex-boyfriend. She nonchalantly tore in up into four little pieces and chucked it in the thrash. I couldn't stop laughing. She just retorted : "Laugh what? Never seen people tear up things before ah?"

My mother is sipek cute.

Rummaging around, many unexpected things surfaced. Welcome or not, I don't know. I found a long-forgotten-about shoebox, the shoebox where I kept all my ex-girlfriends' photos and letters. It was a long, slow walk down a painful road last night. Senti comes with a price, balls.

I also found money on two instances. The first was under my sister's bed. There was six hundred ringgit in notes of fifty. The second was in an envelope in my room. There was about three hundred ringgit innit. Menggila, wei!

I am sure this is my mom's doing. She leaves stuff everywhere and proceeds to forget about them. Sipek cuteness also comes with sipek blurnes, I guess.

"Ah boy ah, don't tell papa about the money you found okay? I'll cook hebat stuff for you tomorrow."

There's asam ikan pari on the table right now.

My mother is sipek cute.

This led me to thinking; I'm sure the maid (who ran away a month ago) has gotten rich from the lost cash she'd found lying around. She's probably driving around Yogyakarta in a Mini Cooper S right now.

We'll never know.

And I have yet to find my SIM card.

Coolness

Title doesn't mean shit. I just like the sound of the word. Coolness.

Coolness, balls.

Dad says I'm too fucking depressing. "Ah boy ah, you're too fucking depressing. Are you going crazy from studying too much?"

Yeah, that'll be the day.

More and more connectees are jumping onto the blogwagon. Which is great. Fred, Han Boon, Josephine.. Been awhile. Great to have you on board.

Randomness.

I have gotten used to smoking while taking a shit in Dublin. The ventilator fan in the bathroom here is shorted out, so I can't fag while taking a shit anymore. I suffer everytime I need to take a shit in my old place. Smoking while taking a shit is one of the best perks that come with being an addictee. I know friends who can't shit if there isn't a fag around.

I'm very considerate of my family, balls. I don't smoke in the common areas at home. I only smoke in the bathroom if the ventilator's working. Do I hear claps of appreciation?

I have yet to see my sister since I've gotten home. Sis is working for Dutch Lady in KL. Che, I'm sleeping in your old room since second uncle is sleeping in mine. I smoke in here, so don't mind, yeah? I leave the windows wide open, though. So there's only a slight chao hwei ta smell. I'll come down in a month or so, haven't had enough of Penang. Yet.

I kinda miss Nick, Ron, Ben & Sim. Nick's in Paris with his wifey, Ron's home in England, Ben's still banging balls in Dublin, Sim's in France with his parents. Or was it Switzerland?

Come to Penang, balls. We'll go makan. We have to make the road trip a reality. For sure, this time around.

Visited my seniors (those who are already in the hospitals) yesterday night. Scary, balls. Most of 'em take sleeping pills like they were vitamin C. Scary, balls. Scary.

Have met up with Kah Siang, Chiun Cherng, Jeremy, Eugene, Jin Khuan and some others since I've been back. It's fantastic, seeing all you again after so long.

Will go back to school this Saturday to have a look at the band. I hope all is well, and that I don't cry in disappointment. Have heard from the others that it's all gone to hell.

Oh no.

Randomness over, lunch beckons.

Aging

So I'm home.

Somehow I'm not jumping up and down nonstop in delirious joy as I expected. I don't know why. Have been pretty out of it lately.

It's only been six days yet so much has happened. I don't even know where to begin.

Uncle's down in Penang from Seremban. His health isn't looking so good, and he's down here as he has lost faith in the Seremban hospitals. It's fucked up, seeing him all weak and shit. He's always been the most lepak uncle. With this, family politik has also sprung up. So fuck that.

I'm not afraid of dying per se. I'm just terrified of growing old. Frailty, weakness, kenyanyukan. Nick and I have an upstanding agreement. If I'm alright financially and my family's secured in most all aspects, he'll kill me when I'm sixty-five. If I'm not, he'll still kill me, but he'll provide for my family.

I wonder if he's gonna bed my wife then as well.

Am in between houses right now, so that's fucked up as well. Have not any furniture for my room, and am not really arsed about furniture shopping either. Someone broke into the new place and stole all our manhole covers though. Like.. what the fuck man?

I've been feeling off since I got back, and I have yet to pinpoint the reason. Feel not like doing much at all. It's close to ten at night now, and already I'm going to bed after I'm done with this post.

My parents seem to have aged years in the eleven months I've been away. Wait, stroke that. Only applies to my dad. Mom is still feisty.

Was supposed to meet my dad somewhere in Batu Mertajam this morning to look at something for the new place. I was running late. So he called and fucked me up as expected. But it wasn't a powerful fucking up. He has lost some of his.. spunk? Usually he'd go on and on.. Lanciau this, fuck that, bastard here, cibai there..

Not too much of that this time around. He even bought durian for me after he gave me a bollocking. Usually it'd take him a few days to feel bad.

Shit-lah, pa.. Don't fucking get old!

I don't know. I just don't feel right. Something's out of place.

Stupor

It's been two days since exams ended. Many of those forty-eight hours were spent drunk. Which made me think, what is it with college students and getting smashed?

Who cares la huh? Feels good.

Have nothing much to say. Lookie pretty colours!


Chinese rice beer and Nick's head. Us getting drunk over lunch.


Aisyah asleep. Disclaimer : Aisyah never touched a drop of the stuff. Really.


Shaving cream on Aisyah.


In her mouth. Girl doesn't swallow. Tsk tsk.


Some crazy drunk going for a swim in the Liffey. We were walking past. Crowd gathered to cheer.


He just stripped down, jumped in, did a few laps, jumped back out, and ran away.


Sim & Hari, spokesmen for Ben & Jerry's. Gay.


Ooh.. Sim really loves his ice cream. Probably thinks he's shoving a woody down his throat.


Anna, drunk. Pulling off some guy's pants. Hor! If I tell your girlfriend, you die!

I'm getting on the plane home is ten hours or so. CC will be picking me up. Going straight to Island Glades for my teh see juak and jawa mee. Fucking hell I can't wait.

I love all ya'll.

Hoohah.

Burstin' Out

Hey!

Ding, dong, the witch is dead!
Ha-ha-ha, the bitch is dead!

Hey!

I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz!
Because because because because becauseeeeeeee..
Because of the wonderful things he does!

Hey!

Now, that's a horse of a different colour! Yessir, that beh is purple!
And now it's yellow! Nabeh!

Hey!

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-day,
My oh my it's a sunshiny day!

Hey!

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-day,
There's plenty of good times, heading my way!

Hey!

I Need Pussy

Painful honesty is my forte. Painful honestly will be the theme today.

When my friends talk about me (drunkenese cock, Friendster testimonials, etc.), one common word that unites them all is cocky. Time and time again, it never changes.

Cocky how? I was talking to fellow blogger Hot Babe (HB forthwith) sometime ago. HB went to the same chemistry tuition as I did in secondary school. We were doing typical conversation, when the subject veered to chicks (I like) and hot men (she like).

I asked her what her impression was of me back then.

"You were cocky. You gave off a cocky vibe."

"Cocky how? Everyone says cocky this cocky that.. Fuck lah, tell lah more precisely"

"Hmm.. You just had the look.."

"The look? Whoa.. Sounds cool.."

"The cocky look lah.. Like you were above everyone else.. Like no one could possible interest you."

"There was no one interesting mah. What else? How else?"

"You were nua.. Damn nua.."

"Nua? You mean nua as in slack, lacking? In which department?"

"Looks wise lah. I don't recall you ever combing your hair. And you were in t-shirts, shorts and goddamn loafers all the time.."

"What should I have done? Wear suit to tuition ah?"

"Aiya.. You were just nua lah... Comb your hair, you'll see improvements in pullability right away."

"I do comb my hair. It's just naturally fucking curly. Like pubic hair. Isn't curly pubic hair on your head cool? I thought got rock star factor."

"Haha. No. Cut your hair, use gel. Do something different. Why don't you try dreadlocks or something?"

"Oh sure.. The old lady lying on her bed in the hospital will be thrilled when she sees the med student assigned to her has dreadlocks. Rastafarian, balls. I could go around the hospital, giving out weed."

"Haha."

"Aight. The first thing I'll do once I get home is cut me hair, and I'm gonna send you a pic for approval."

"Bravo."

People, true ah what she said? 'tis the time for painful honestly, hold back not, for I never do.

As I'm in an honest mood, I'd like to talk about medicine as tertiary education and its students.

I've always thought med students who drop out halfway are fucking stupid. I mean, it's such a waste.. Med school is so hard to get into in the first place, why let up before you finish?

I've seen people give up in their third year, with only two more to go. I've seen nervous breakdowns, people crying during papers, throwing up while cramming for papers. Not exactly encouraging. But I've always attributed those things to the individual's lack of character/strength. Me, cocky as I inevitably am, think I'm above all that bullshit.

Me strong. Me fucking powerful. No giving up/puking/crying for me. No. Me cocky with big, heavy balls.

But I'm starting to understand.

I don't know if it's something unique to med school, but there's a huge emotional/stress factor. I don't know how to explain it, but it feels as though everything is riding on your next paper/exam/practical. Fail, and the world ends. Fail, and the world will fall, to the ruin of all (cue LOTR soundtrack).

Today's paper was on respiratory diseases. It's the most complex system of all, to me at least. While studying for it last night, I caught a fleeting glimpse into the minds of the people who were pushed to give up. I could see, for a nanosecond, how they felt. It wasn't a good feeling. Scary. Fuck.

I'm sorry for making fun of you guys. Don't haunt me/fuck with me, please.

Medicine is not something I'd recommend anyone to do. It's a fucked up world, with fucked up politik. One's stress threshold has to be astronomical to handle it sanely. For lesser beings like us, we turn to intoxicants. Alcohol, more alcohol and the occasional joint. To forget and wake up once again with hope. A fool's hope.

Fool of a Took! Cibai you! Me Gandalf. Me take me staff and stick it up your anal canal! Cibai you!

I always hear people say "Don't do medicine for your parents; just cause they want you to. You have to have real interest in the field, or else it'll all be in vain." Like fuck, man. Who in their right mind has prior substantial interest in medicine? All posers, all pretenders, I don't believe you if you tell me so; fuck you.

I decided to do medicine because I hated math, and I wanted to do something with no math in it at all. The only other profession I could envision myself in was the culinary arts. I wanted to be a chef, cooking my days away. Syok, noh? Being from a typical Cina Asian family, one of course does not indulge in such pointless dreams. My parents were keen to have a doctor son anyway. Can brag to the fishmonger in the wet market mah.

"My son ah... He is a loctor loh! Lon pray-pray ah!"

Don't do medicine for your parents? Like, fuck that. I have to honestly say, it is my parents' hope and faith that keeps me going day in and day out. It's not easy, farming. Not fucking easy at all. My father the farmer has worked so hard to provide. The least I can do is stick it out and provide them with bragging rights.

I'm not letting my kids do medicine next time. My daughter can be a ho' and my son can be a drug dealer.

"Booyah."

Good News & Better News

I'm oh-so-happy today.

The good news is that my keyboard is slowly but surely getting better. All on its own accord. Only a few keys are malfunctioning still, but it's no big deal. I just open the character map and manually enter whatever letters are not working. Tiresome, but it works nonetheless.

Yippee!

That said, I regret doing what I did to my laptop two days back. I was spending hours and hours blow-drying it, dismantling the keyboard, reassembling it, etc. Repeating the process. I cut my finger on one try, and I got pissed. Took a hammer to the keyboard, and proceeded to throw it on the floor. Twice.

So now there are gaping holes where the letters 'K' and 'D' are.

I think I have rage issues.

Yippee!

On to better news! Just decided a few hours ago to change my ticket home. Will be back in Penang this time next week.

Yippee!

This time next week, I'll be using my huge/long stick to poke-poke in hopes of getting into tight holes.

This time next week, I'll be putting my mouth to germ-infested, funky-smelling, sticky stuff.

This time next week, I'll be pushing a stick up and down, going faster and faster as I do so.

And while doing all that, I'll be sweating profusely.

Ah.. Snooker, hawker food, driving.. My three favourite things back home.

Yippee!

(Che che, I'm not telling pa and ma I'm coming home so soon. They still think I'll be back only early June. Don't spoil it for me ya. Will you be in Penang on Wednesday? Am arriving about two in the afternoon. Right now CC is picking me up, but if he can't make it can you? And dya want Midori? Or Moet?)

Onto another topic then.

Me, pining, has produced some results. Some expected, some not so expected.

Giving the post a once over, I realise how it can apply to at least two different individuals, depending on who reads it. Cibai. Troublesome. Do I go out of my way to approach the individual whom it's not meant for? To clear up the air? Awkward and memalukan, balls.

Not that I have any pride in the first place. See how-lah.

Me, pining, has expectedly made me the butt of many jokes. Most are made in front of me, to my face, which I gratefully accept. Kam sia lu.

But what fucking reason do I have to complain? The web is not exactly private. I wasn't smart enough to maintain anonymity, with Seong Hong Tan plainly visible on my profile, with seonghong.blogspot.com being my site address.

Talk about asking for it. I'm rather stupid I think. The fake macho image that I've tirelessly built over the years, I've utterly obliterated with one post. I have revealed to anyone who wants to know, the true gay fag that I am. Ha. Ha.

Oh well.

Fuck you, asshole. You should commit suicide by drowning yourself in a urinal, and rid us all of your ignorant, parasitical existence. And make sure you're sterile. Don't burden the world by propagating your sad, worthless seed.

Yippee!

On a brighter note, me, pining, like I said, has actually produced some results. Sister told my mom about the pining post, mom thought it was amusing that her son actually can feel, that her son is not a heartless kayu bastard she was sure of prior to this.

So mom thought it'd be funny to tell the pinee's mother. Yes, you read right. The pinee's mother obviously told the pinee, which amalgamated to a rather embarrassing phone call from the pinee. The correct one, mind you.

My balls shrank audibly over the phone, I'm sure. I tried to lie and cheat my way out of it, saying it wasn't specifically about her, saying how exam stress drove me to doing insane things, to say shit online for the whole world to read.

I don't think I succeeded.

Yippee!

Well, fuck that. There's no such thing as bad press. It's all good I guess, since me, pining, produced the first phone call I've had with the pinee (that lasted longer than five minutes) in... three years, almost?

It's all good. It's all good. I keep telling myself that. It's all good.

Heck, you never know. Pinee might want to meet me when she flies home to Penang over the summer. To personally kick my ass, no doubt.

But it's all good. It's still all good.

Yippee!

That certainly took a long time. Posting with a fucked keyboard is no fun. But going home will be. I'm so happy. It feels as though I've discovered the joys of masturbation all over again.

YIPPEE!

Fuck! :D!

Fuck! Fuck!


Fuck! Fuck!

.....................

:D! :D!

Say Hello

..to my good flen. His names is perfect pint.


Perfect pint are my vely good flen. He is very frenly. Espesially when you have exams near near. He is cold cold. He taste good good. He is quiet hard to pour plopely. He don't comprain, like girls. He don't judging you. He love you without asking many kwestion. He can make you vely happy happy.

Perfect pint come from his mother. His mother name is fridgepack. I show you, wait.


This is perfect pint mother. Is name fridge pack. Is vely cheap becos got plomotion. Only twelve eulo for 8 small baby perfect pint. Very easy to keep in your flidge. Because smart pakaging, compless into one small kadbod box.

You shoud make fren with perfect pint and his mother. Espesially when you boring and no one to talk to. And when you stardi until you want to kick your mother.

*hic*

I Pine

I search frantically for a way out. For release. There is no escape. There is never an escape. I am trapped.

You're everywhere. Every sight, every sound, every thing. You're around every corner. When I wake, even when I sleep. Memories abound from the slightest of moments, the most insignificant of things. The memories hold on to me. The memories trap me.

You were my yin. You were the other half. The one that was all-opposing, but the one that was all-crucial. Before you, I didn't know what it meant to be fragmented. I never could understand the concept of complement. Now I do. And because I do, I suffer daily.

I suffer because of what I did. I'd say I'm sorry, but you've probably had enough of those. You're sick of apologies, I know. What could I give you back then, at the end, but words? What can I give you now, today?

We were young. I was infantile, puerile. I was idealistic, you were too tolerant of my ways, however wrong they were. We could not afford the luxury of time. We did not have the luxury of space, of distance, or rather, of proximity. They did not hate you. They merely disliked you. And only at the beginning. Did they not warm to you? Did they not treat you as one of their own? But they hated me, and I'm sure they hate me still.

The hurdles we had to face, it was a wonder it worked beyond a moment. The hurdles accelerated closeness, the challenges birthed dependence. Considering all, I still stand and say it was the best ride of my life. We were travelling too quick on a road we did not know. We crashed. Were there any survivors? I want to think so, I want to hope so, but I do not know. I can't read you anymore.

I don't know you anymore.

I am sorry. I am sorry for myself. I was happy. Truly. But I was also indifferent. I was disillusioned with whatever strength I thought we had. I thought we were invincible. I felt we were above all. I was not trusting, I was possesive. I was wrong.

I was but a boy. I am but a boy.

I've tried so very hard to forget, to no avail. To step forward, but only to trip and fall. I've been able to before, time and time again. I'm not proud of it, but I could, I really could. But I can't with you. And that is why I suffer. I suffer because I believe. I suffer because I still have hope. A hope that no matter how hard I try, I cannot leave behind.

There was something special, something nonpareil, something that can't always be found, something that can't be attributed to chance. A something does not come along often, or at all, sometimes. Click. That, I truly believe. And thus, I hurt.

Are you happy? I think you are. And that is the one bit of amelioration I can take away, the only relief. But I admit, I am not that selfless. I have not such altruism. I still want you. Not all to myself as before, but just a part. I want to share.

I want to hold your hand, and I wish to feel you grasp back. One day.

I still have hope. And so I pine. I pine in the dark, I pine silently, all by myself.

I am but a boy, but this boy has learnt. This boy will not repeat the same mistakes. They have proven to be far too costly.

Vocabulary

Should be studying my ass off for my next paper. Should isn't in my vocabulary. But many other words are.

Was messing around with the texting preferences on my mobile. Came across the saved words section. It saves all the words I use often, words which aren't in the mobile's English dictionary.

Here they go, exactly as they are, with no tampering on my part..

Aight
aight
Aisyah
aisyah
Ait
Bitch
bitch
chet
Cibai
cibai
crap
fag
Damn
damn
Darren
darren
Dearie
dearie
Fuck
fuck
FUCKER
Fucker
fucker
Fucking
fucking
Heck
heck
Lemma
lemma
Licia
licia
Makan
makan
Nite
nite
PUKI
Puki
puki
Sayang
sayang
Sien
sien
Shit
shit
Shite
shite
Piss
piss
Snook
snook
Snooker
snooker
Sott
sott
Txt
txt
Wank
wank
Wassup
wassup

Was pretty surprised kanina, tiu and some others didn't make it into the distinguished list.

What's in your dictionary?

I'm Devastated

It's been exactly a day since I left the examination centre, and it took me just as long to realise something.

I left my water bottle behind.

It dawned on me when I woke up an hour ago. I always reach out for the bottle as soon as I wake, to rehydrate myself before the morning Marlboro Light. Drink water, smoke, brush teeth after. Tried and tested, works like a charm.

It wasn't there. My trusty moss-green Nalgene bottle wasn't anywhere to be found. Lemma puki chau cibai! I thought hard. Really hard. I went into the exam centre with my lucky, green bottle, but I didn't come out with it.

Why the fuss over a water bottle, you ask? Cue senti flashback moment.

2003, a month before I was supposed to fly to Dublin for the first time. My whole family was down in KL, doing some miscellaneous shopping. Our last chance to bond before their beloved son leaves for ten months straight. Before they have to suffer my absence. Oddly, they were in high spirits, they seemed pretty happy..

Hmm.

I remember I was in an outdoorsy bag shop, looking for a knapsack. My sister was commenting on how gay the colours were. My dad appeared by the shop entrance , clutching a plastic bag. He thrust it at me.

"Nah, this is for you.."

"Hami lanciau*? Water bottle? Damn kindergarten la wei.."

"Then what are you going to do about water? You're not spending my money buying bottled water everytime you go out.. Idiot.."

"Oh.. True also.."

"The guy took the bottle and threw it hard againt the marble floor. Didn't break. It can withstand temperatures of up to 150 degrees. So you can fill it with hot coffee, even soup.."

"But I don't know how to make soup.. Is that how the shop owner sells all his stuff? Ganas also.."

"Shut up. You get my point. I know you won't bring any of those Cina thermoses mom bought for you. So bring this."

"Thanks.."

You have no idea how much love was exchanged in that five minutes. My family works in an odd, businesslike way. There are never any hugs. No one says I love you. I have gone Street Fighter style against my dad on multiple occasions, at his provocation. My dad shook my hand before I got on the plane to Dublin. Get?

My dad never buys me something without me asking/begging/stealing his money for it.. So, this was definitely a senti memory worth preserving for the rest of my life.

And now the bottle's lost. Hope the exam centre keeps a lost and found. This happening in Ireland, I have a slightly higher probability of reuniting with my Nalgene than if I had lost it in Malaysia. I hope. Please please please.

An old friend once told me we suffer only because of the bonds we have.

I thought it was a lame ass line to get girls at the time, but I think I understand, today. I'm devastated.

*lanciau added for dramatic effect

And So It Begins..

T-minus nineteen hours. It will finally begin.

Am fully equipped.


Pencil case, examination card, student card, chewing gum.

Am fully equipped, but far from ready.

Lord have mercy.

Anonymity

A recent post of mine caused a close friend substantial anguish, misery, pain and punishment.

Girl, I'm sorry. Please don't blame him. Blame me instead. I was the catalyst. If it wasn't for me, none of it would have happened. Sorry, yeah?

That dead guy was not kidding when he said hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, balls..

That aside, this is my most prized digital possesion. This elicits at least sixty-two different memories simultaneously, and at least fifty-nine of those are fucktastic ones. This is brotherhood, this is camaraderie. This sums up five years of my life better than anything else can. I've been staring at this the whole day.

Think of everything you love. Think of everyone you hold close to your heart. Your parents, siblings, car, pet hamster, whatever else. Now, multiply all that by infinity. That is how much this means to me.

It was pretty hard to get a hold of this. Thanks, Teng Xiang, for rummaging through the Ed Board room, looking for this. Thanks for scanning it at such a high resolution. You have my eternal gratitude, and that of many more of us.

What exactly is this?

Well.. this.

Satu Lagi Foremost

Jam di dinding bertunjuk hampir dua pagi. Saya baru kembali ke rumah.

Sejak membuka mata pada pukul sepuluh pagi, saya tidak mengenjak dari bilik dan meja saya. Hari ini dipenuhi dengan tatapan mikrobiologi dan farmakologi. Amat membosankan. Tetapi kegiatan sebegitu memang diperlukan, kerana akan tiba ujian pada hari Jumaat.

Ben menelefon tepat pukul enam petang.

"Mari kita pergi makan sushi di Aya!"

Konsentrasi saya terus pecah. Ben berkata bahawa Ron dan Nick juga akan makan bersama. Walaupun anda adalah betul, anda tidak patut berkata bahawa saya tidak seharusnya menerima invitasi mereka.

Saya telah membaca buku dengan tekun selama.. selama.. saya tidak ingat. Lama sudah. Saya amat kehausan cinta rakan-rakan. Sudah terlalu lama saya tidak melihat muka mereka, menghidu bau mereka, merasai usapan mereka.

Jadi, kami pergi makan sushi. Kami makan dengan gelojoh sekali, seumpama manusia yang tidak pernah makan sushi. Apakah peribahasa yang sesuai? Seperti kerbau masuk bandar? Oh, saya tidak ingat. Sudah terlalu lama tidak mengaji Bahasa Malaysia.

Lepas makan sushi, kami sepatutnya balik rumah dan menyambung belajar, tetapi Ben mengajak kami minum kopi.

"Jomlah, sekejap je ni.. Bosan la kat rumah tiap hari. Saya bosan menonton gambar lucah sambil belajar."

Ayat yang terakhir telah saya cipta untuk kualiti hiburan. Anda terhibur?

Kami pergi meminum kopi. Sambil merokok, kami cakap kotek. Siap membayar bil, kami saling mengucap selamat tinggal and selamat berjaya dalam ujian yang akan datang.

Tetapi Nick membuka mulutnya. Dia mengatakan ayat yang paling teruk sekali, ayat yang telah menghancurkan banyak nyawa di dunia ini.

"Mari kita pergi kasino. Tak perlu main la. Tengok-tengok sahaja!"

Habis. Sudah sebulan saya tidak mengunjungi tempat penuh dosa itu. Sudah sebulan saya berjaya melawan nafsu judi. Kasino. Tempat yang banyak merunsingkan saya. Tempat yang akan menghancurkan saya suatu hari nanti.

Tengok-tengok sahaja? Lawak bodoh gila. Perkataan yang tidak bermakna bagi orang seperti kami yang telah ditawan hantu judi, orang seperti kami yang mempunyai masalah judi yang amat kritikal dan membimbangkan.

Empat jam berlalu di dalam kasino.

Saya dengan gembira sekali menaip, yang walaupun ada masa apabila saya tengah kalah dengan teruk sekali, saya telah memenangi balik semua duit kalahan. Ya. Betul. Menggunakan semua kebolehan judi saya, akhirnya saya tidak kalah tidak menang. Rata.

Ayah, anda tidak perlu bimbang. Anda boleh terus menjadi petani. Tidak perlu berkerja lebih keras untuk wang.

Terima kasih. Terima kasih.

Revelasi telah dialami malam ini. Mengapa saya bertutur dalam Bahasa Malaysia setiap kali bercakap mengenai isu-isu judi? Saya pun tidak tahu.

Selamat malam rakan-rakan. Saya akan belajar serba sedikit lagi kemudian tidur.

Nick masih berada di kasino sekarang. Nick oh Nick. Mengapa engkau begini?

Gay Whore

Just got off the phone with a classmate.

For the second time in three days, she's called up crying. Nervous breakdown. Finals begin in three days. She's got me shaking everywhere. And not in a positive, happy way.

When I'm stressed, I drink lots of coffee.


My huge jar of Gold Blend (50% extra, free!) is fast diminishing. My urine is increasingly yellow, and decreasing in amount.

When I'm stressed, I eat lots of rich tea biscuits.


This is my second tube.

When I'm stressed, I shred paper. Empty pizza boxes, juice cartons, anything.


This is my tong sampah.

I think I'm stressed.

Two questions..

1. Am I a camera whore gigolo?
- Almost all of my recent posts have been generously aided by pretty, colourful visuals. I'm cunningly trying to distract you lot from the dismal quality of my writing. Hence, pictures. So you go : "Wahh.. Coloourr.. Picturesss.." and proceed to drool. Admit it. You do. I have succeeded.

2. Am I slowly but surely crossing over to the dark side?
- Am talking about homosexuality, you nerd. Was talking to my housemate earlier in the day and listening to him made me smile. The smile was a very gay smile. Housemate says the word cookie in an odd way. It almost sounds like cocky. I think it's cute.

Fuck, I am going gay. Cibai!

Have had nothing much to say, as nothing much happens when you're home the whole day. Am guessing the situation will remain unchanged, at least till the fourteenth, when my finals end. God, please press fast forward on your universal remote control. Thank you.

Dreamt that Nicole came into my room and proceeded to drop trou'. Good dream.

Do As I Say

Read this on Yu Jian's blog. Made my day.

It's an utterly fantastic video of 3 MMU students doing the Numa Numa.

Get it here. It's only 1.7MB. Download and watch it, really.

Really really really.

Malaysia memang boleh, sial..

Dale, Nash and Ijad.. If you're reading this, I salute you guys!

Once A Free..

Have been hit with a massive case of senti after reading Andrew's last post.

I'll take a break from my books to do this, I guess. I have a feeling it's going to be a very long post. Chances are, if you're not a Free, you'll lose the plot halfway. Or right now.

Once a Free, always a Free; never an ex-Free, just an old Free. No words can do nearly enough justice as to how much love we hold for our alma mater. We are an extremely cocky bunch; we're insanely proud of our pedigree, and rightly so.

The grand old lady will soon be turning two hundred. Which makes one wonder; how many students has she brought forth into the world?

So much happened in my five years there. I learnt about the human condition in unique, irreplicable ways. I'm grateful for those lessons, and given the choice, I wouldn't have it any other way.

1997. I remember Mrs. Wan Azizah. She taught Bahasa Malaysia to first formers. She wouldn't mark our work unless it was in cursive. That was stressful, learning how to write in cursive.

Remember Oliver Twist, Andrew?

1998. I remember my first detention. I was in Form 2. We were throwing rocks at each other in class during English. Mrs. Safarbee got pissed, and called for the prefects. We spent a whole Saturday morning cleaning toilets and picking up rubbish. I don't remember, but I think Alvin was chastised together with me. Were you, Alvin?

I remember Miss Yoong Soo Har, our history teacher. What was our nickname for her again? Wrinkled nipple? Nipple lizard? Something like that.. She was freaking scary, balls. She sent me to the principal once because I left class to go to the toilet without asking for prior permission. It was history period, but she had yet to arrive. I needed to piss. So I went. Both to the toilet, then to the principal's office.

1999. Form 3 was my best year in PFS. I don't know why. It just was. Remember Mrs. Ang, our science teacher? She was damn ganas, balls. She screamed at me at least once a week the whole year through. She was my form teacher, and I started missing class a lot that year for the band.

2000 and 2001 are a blur. I can't remember anything about them except for my time in the band. Seriously, I can't even remember who my classmates were for those two years.

I remember getting caught for cheating in Form 4 though. It was Additional Mathematics, end of year exams. A buku sifir with cheats in it was being passed around, and I had the shitty luck of receiving it when the invigilator was looking right at me. All hell broke loose.

I remember the principal calling my father from his office. The day ended with my dad sodomising me with a broomstick, and smashing my PC by hurling the CPU onto the floor. Great temper, my dad.

It would've been alright if I was the only one being penalised, but I remember the classmate who was passing me the buku sifir was given hell as well. And he was an innocent bystander. Casualty of war. Didn't even want the cheats. I've always felt sorry for that.. Sorry ah?

Do you remember the spot checks? I remember the way we'd hide our pornograpy in the trash bin, in our underwear, behind the chalk board. I remember sticking our liquid paper down our socks. Remember Mark Penaflorida? He'd tape VCDs around his thigh. Ingenious.

And of course.. the band. The Penang Free School Band. I'd gladly repeat the five years just to be in the band again. The band was where real stuff happened. Friendships were forged, the kind that lasts a lifetime. Lessons learnt were cemented by sweat and tears.

We still congregate at the band room whenever we're back home. We sit on the familar green metal chairs, take out our instruments, and jam. We talk cock till the sun rises, then walk to Jalan Terengganu for Hokkien Mee.

I'm looking for pictures, but most of them are back home in Penang. These are all I could find.


Sports day, 2001. Our final performance as fifth formers. Dyed our hair blue. Audience with principal ensued.


National Band Competition, 2000. Kuala Lumpur. A fantastic end to a fantastic journey.


1997. Drum Major Lew Phoi Heng. Assistants Ng Joe Han and Hafiz Ibrahim.


1998. Drum Major Faisaal Faruk. Assistants Tan Kah Siang and Ho Tatt Wei.


1999. Drum Major Jeremy Chan. Assistants Jeremy Chong and Ashvin Gopinathan. Principal, Mohd. Ibrahim Ibramsa and teacher advisor, Mr. Ang Chin Bean left PFS for good soon after. Thank you, sirs.

This is very much a personal post. It is long, horribly structured, and badly written. But I know I'll want to look back and read this someday.

Thank you, PFS, for all this, and so much more.

After almost two hundred years, how many Frees have you gifted?

Not nearly enough.

Here's to another two hundred years. Fortis Atque Fidelis.