The Hongkie Goes On Holiday

Langkawi, here I come. Here's to four days of (hopefully) fun in the sun.



I hope I don't get sick on the bloody ferry.

I hope it's a fun trip.

I really hope it's a fun trip.

I hope someone brings a camera, cause I'm not taking mine.

When I get home, I have to start getting some work done. Am sorta behind, have quite an amount to do before the holiday ends.

Sigh. Not looking forward to it. Not looking forward to it at all.

I wonder how's the hongkie doing?

See you guys. If I drown or something, the only thing I have - my trusty Zippo lighter - goes to Jeremy. The fat, Serani Jeremy.

And if I've wronged you, I'm terribly sorry. I just can't help it sometimes.

Wokey. I'm off.

Wheeeeee.

The Hongkie Needs To Stop Smoking

I solved my earlier conundrum by changing the template yet again. Genius. Sustagenius. Now it looks fine in both IE and Firefox. Wheeee.

Stop smoking? I really do need to. Bloody fuck I don't want to be a slave to them masturbation-worthy Marlboros/devilishly delicious Dunhills anymore.

Oops.

Since the kakak was sent packing, the house - specifically the areas which I hang around the most - has been falling apart. As much as I hate to admit it, it's true - I'm a total waster/slacker, quite incapable of picking up after me spoilt bitch-ass self.

Damn.



These are the ashtrays I use. I didn't realise they were that dirty till earlier just now, when the sun came up and stripped them bare of their usual darkness-of-night cloak.



It's quite the disgusting, man. Yuck. Shite. I should wash them more often. Better still, I should stop smoking. Yes I will yes I will YES I WILL!

Now that they're so dirty, there's really no point in cleaning them, yeah? Hahaha.



I just realised that the huge-ass gold one isn't really an ashtray. It's actually a replica of a Korean stadium or summat. '88 Olympics. Shite I hope no one in the house realises I swiped it and turned it into an ash receptacle. Tiu man, I have just desecrated everything the Olympics stand for - sportsmanship, camaraderie, spirit and all that crap.

I know I'm rambling, but it's eight in the morn' and I have nought else better to do.

Since the camera's out, let's have one more pic, shall we?



This is my favourite glass. I think it is cool. Don't you think it is cool? Haha. I always feel damn atas when drinking OJ from it. No condensation too. Come on, all together now... WOOOOOO clapclapclap.

Thank you, thank you.

Now that I've fulfilled my daily quota of bullshit, I'm off to the market. Need to buy fish. And also okra.

I know the Teriyaki Boys' Tokyo Drift song is damn ding dong ding dong ting ting ting, but I'm addicted to it. Everytime the girls come on to sing the chorus, I get turned on in the most inappropriate way imaginable - thinking bout young hot Jap chicks in short skirts. Or nothing at all.

Cool shit.

I wonder if you know, how they live in Tokyo!

The Hongkie Hearts The Hongkie

I just have to plug Leng Mou. I gather it's a pretty popular site, but I only found out about it tonight. Great stuff. I started writing this post at three in the morn'. It's now already eight - spent the last five reading their old posts. Man I love the holidays.

Hola.

There's a stone in my shoe (if you know which movie that reference is from, I heart you, friend).

The page looks fine in Internet Explorer, but appears sans background in Firefox. Which puzzles me. Isn't IE supposed to be the one with the weird problems? I can't seem to fix it! Ding ding ding.

Maybe it's my extremely limited knowledge of HTML. I don't know. I'm gonna try my darndest to not be the anal-OCD pisshead that I am and just.. leave it. At least you can read the words and see the colourful pictures. And those are the only things that matter in the end. Yes they are.

Screw beautiful baby blue blog backgrouds (whoa, 5Bs). Who needs 'em, yeah? Yeah.

Today was a pretty senti day. Woke up at an odd hour, with no one to layan food with me. I needed to return something important to a friend, so I uh.. went lah. I got hungry a little while after that, so I stopped in Jalan Terengganu for the world's best wantan mee. Alone. Do you know how stupid it is to layan wantan mee, taukua chien, teh peng & Marlboro alone? I don't think you do. Let me tell you. It's very very stupid.

It's not as nice as I remember it, the wantan mee - I think the one outside GH is better now. It's not as nice as when I'm back from Dublin for summer. Maybe it's the whole take-for-granted, absence-fonder psychobabble bullshit your girlfriends always try to force on you.

Anyway. My point, and I do have one, is this.



Genius, ya? Makeshift cot-thing for the little boy (I'm guessing he's the hawker's kid, as there were no adults even near him). Note the two extra chairs on either side, in case he falls off while thrusting against Jessica Alba in lala-land.

Okay la, in all fairness, he looks prepubescent, so it's in case he falls off while playing with Barney in his head..

Right.

The holidays are speeding by, even though I'm not up to much. Actually, I'm up to nothing at all.

The one I want to layan - and the one whom I want to layan me back, is not here. So there's not much to do.

On a brighter note, Larry a.k.a. Lalilu (I just thought of that, am I not brilliant?) is home. He's in KL though, as he has forsaken Penang for uh.. Midvalley. We shall get drunk and walk half-naked along the streets of Kuah come monday.

Yay.

New Look

I was just starting to get sick of the old layout. Whaddya guys think? Chun huh?

Left out the shoutbox though, thought it cluttered everything up.

Anyway this is just a test post.

Need an image in, so here's my supper.



Best shit ever. Aahhh.. the joy of Penang.

Fuck me, the powerbook's still dead. Am trying to get my hands on a restore CD, but it has to be OS 10.3.x. Anyone? Anyone?

I love the holidays. It's nearing four in the a.m. and I'm free to mess about with blog templates, post about hokkien mee and watch as much tv as I want. I can also drink as much and often as I want, without worrying about waking up hung over.

Because I can. Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas to me.

I'm off. Found loadsa DVDs, am slowly but surely going through them.

Had dinner with Jess and YZ earlier. Was good catching up. Thanks for layaning, haha.

Righto. I love you all. Especially you, Larry. Last paper. All out, bitch.

And no, you still can't have my chocolate starfish.

Ding

Skew it mang my powerbook's shot.



I got it a week before I left for Dublin. Uh.. September 2003. (Whoa was it that long ago?)

It didn't live to see its third birthday. It survived an encounter with Mr. Perfect Pint, it survived numerous tumbles and falls, but it gave up in the end. Cause of death.. unknown.

Fuck man. I'm bloody pissed, I really am.

It just refused to work one morning. It was making weird noises. Strange sounds. Eek eek eek. Chweet chweet. Kinda like a pig in labour. I panicked. And it was a panic like never before.

Fuck man.

Shite. I realised I can't really function without my (up till now) trusted, faithful powerbook.

I'm on the sister's computer, and everytime I reach for a blog link/a photo/a file/a song/a porno, it hits me.

Realisation dawns.

IT'S IN MY POWERBOOK AND I CAN'T FUCKING GET TO IT.

Sorry. Quite angsty.

Wanna know the clincher? I don't have most of it backed up.

Smart huh?

Thank fuck my hospital/patient records are safely backed up in the PDA.. and my songs are in the iPod. If I had lost my hospital/patient records, I'd be so screwed it won't even be funny. Need them to finish a portfolio due next month.

But.

Photos.. Years and years worth of photos.. Being the closet senti bitch that I am, it hurts. It does. And I don't know for sure if I'll be able to recover any data from the powerbook.

Took it to the shop. After an hour of disbelief and ridicule from Mr. Apple Service Boy (HAH? You mean you never back up your things? How can? Why?) (Why is the keyboard so like that? Why a few buttons missing?), he helpfully concluded that the hard disk might be fried. Or it might be a virus. Or a program incompatiblity-conflict thingamajig.

Thanks la, right.

Now I gotta look for someone else with a Mac so I can use firewire mode and convert the powerbook into an external hard disk, in hope of salvaging some shit at least.

Long story, don't care to explain.

Shite shite shite.

Please work. Please. Please.

Bang Bang

I feel like I've been shot down. Just that Nancy Sinatra's not the one who pulled the trigger. I think I did. I think I shot myself.

"That awful sound.. Bang bang.."

Wokey I realise that doesn't really make a lot of sense, but do I ever?

So.

The exams are over, my holidays have begun. I'm pretty much free for about five weeks or so, minus the occasional hospital visit to tie up some loose ends.

It'll be our last proper holiday. Last ever. Longest one hereafter will be like.. two weeks?

Nevermind, don't even wanna go there.

The practical case wasn't too bad. Got breast cancer. Nice chinese lady with one breast missing. Could've turned out much much worse. Could've gotten some weird neuro case, like myasthenia gravis.. or Guillain-Barre's.

Chiu. Moving on.

***

There was a time when I was the champion (at least I'd like to think so). Persistent. When I'd never say die.


Kinda like him.

I'm so.. lazy now. Which really worries me.

Will the world lose the gift of little senti-emo TSHs running around in the future? It would be too disappointing to deny, I know. But how? Hmm.. How?



Women. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em (not really.. but can't live interestingly without 'em).

How come they can't be simple and straightforward? Easy to read? Actually comprehensible? Like instructions for microwave popcorn?

Mixed signals, sometimes no reception at all. Toot.. Toot.. Error in connection.. Lame. Ha.

Damn fucked up balls. When I was younger (read: idealistic, with raging hormones) I'd have taken every single thing, even the most vague, fucked up issue.. as a challenge. I wouldn't rest till I was sure I had beaten every single one of those little shits into the ground, teeth shattered and all that cool macho shite.

Now?

Vague haa? Slightly confusing haa?

Sheesh. Okay I'll go make chinese tea now and listen to Kisschasy (Tzelin!).

I guess I just don't really know how much I want certain things right now.

I don't want to seem insincere and bored, so it's probably not a good idea to let up too easy.

But.

I don't wanna seem like the loser who just doesn't get it.. and presses on, much to his disadvantage and shame. Shame, balls, shame. Shy okay.

Dastardly ego. You have cost me once again.

I wonder why that was never really an issue. Maybe I'm getting older, and I'm actually giving a shit about what people think.

Fuck me. I'm becoming an uncle.

Tiu. Thank shite it's the holidays. I can actually spend some time and thought on this, guilt-free.

Chiuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu why does she have to be so.. perfect?

I'm sure I'm not obsessed with an illusion. You know, how sometimes you think you like this person.. how she's fantastic and all.. but it's all just a sack of shit because you spent so much time thinking of her, you've made her up to be something totally... unreal.

I call that the Secondary School Syndrome (SSS).

I'm helluva sure this is not a case of severe SSS. I wish it was, but it isn't.

The thing is, she doesn't exactly fit (like Lego) the mental picture of what I want. What I've always wanted, what I've pretty much always gone for.

But!

It all (somehow) falls into place. It's like some freaking EUREKA! moment, when you realise what you've always wanted isn't really all that, and there's actually someone out there with the ability to awaken you from the blissful, ignorant wet dream that's been your life so far.



Sniff. She's like.. what I want, with the bonus of what I never knew I wanted, but I'm sure I want now, failing which I will just go and marry a monkey.

Very Jerry Maguire. Man this is so stupid.

I'm apologise for putting you through this lame ass gay shit metro ramble, people. I love you all.

If you're in Penang and you're feeling peckish, give me a call, and we shall have chinese tea together.

I'm off to get my blood tested now. Pray that I don't have hepatitis. Or HIV. Or SSS.