My Father Is A Farmer

Oh My Frickin' God

2007-01-26T21:51:00.000+08:00

Hello people.

After a four month long hiatus, the Chaohai is finally back. For one post.

He plans to go out gracefully/properly, and promises not to be just another dead blog, stuck neither here nor there, devoid of closure.

When I started this (124 posts ago), there was this.. hole. It was a huge black hole, and blogging was akin to laying a ladder over the hole.

It didn't cover the hole, no, but it did stop me from falling in.

If my footing was steady. If.

I've found something to replace the ladder, and it sure as hell does the job.

She gets the job done, and so much more.

So much more.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

If ever you find yourself in a bind, just think.. What would the Chaohai do?

Much love.

Sniff.

Now where's that damn tissue?

By the way, I found the lost pen.

I Need To Learn

2006-09-17T17:10:00.000+08:00

..how to let things go.

I lost my pen yesterday.

I don't think I lost it lost it yesterday, but I realised it was missing yesterday.

I need to learn how to let things go.

When realisation dawned (and it dawned like a hammer crushing my left testicle), it sent me into a chinese tea-charged frenzy.

I turned the whole house upside down.

Looked everywhere. I mean everywhere.

Maybe I left it in the car - shook the whole car down, floormats, even took out the spare tyre (it could've slipped into them small crevices yeah, could've).

Maybe I threw it into my wardrobe - took out every single t-shirt to make sure it wasn't in between any of 'em.

Maybe lovely huggable mummy stashed it away somewhere to keep it safe - fuck it then, could be anywhere. Looked in the store, looked in the master, looked everyfuckingwhere.

Maybe it fell under a couch, the TV, my lazy chair - that was me moving every piece of furniture which could be moved.

And that wasn't the whole story. That was barely half of it.

Man I really have to learn to let things go.

It's not really the attachment I have for the pen, it's not even how much it's worth.

Well, maybe a little.

But I'm not one to lose things! At least I'd like to think I'm not.

People who lose things are.. losers. I don't want to be a loser - literally or not.

Ho ho ho.

Got up this morning, looked everywhere again. For like the sixty-seventh time.

Even dreamt about it. Woke me up from my afternoon nap. I dreamt I had found it stashed in some drawer somewhere.

Realised it was a dream.. proceeded to go like FUCK TIU TIU TIU CIBAINESSSS.

The stupid thing is, I don't really have the time to waste looking for a pen.

My exams are tomorrow. No need for luck, baby - I'm way past that.

The pen belonged to the farmer. He gave it to me when he got a cooler, blinger one.

Losing it made me think childish thoughts, like how I didn't really like it in the first place anyway - there were gold accents on it, and I hate gold. Hate hate hate gold.

Plus the farmer dropped it or something sometime back, and if you look really really carefully under the light, there's this hairline crack that runs along the cap.

If you look really really really carefully.

Defense mechanism? Defence schwefense. Ugh.

Bloody hell I'm heartbroken.

And it's all because of a pen. My pen.

You know in certain parts of the world, they'd call me insane.

I need to learn how to let things go.

What Is Corned Beef?

2006-09-11T22:08:00.000+08:00

So asked Jess.

I'm supposed to be studying for my upcoming exams, so naturally I have loads of time to spend answering her question.

No. No. Answering her on the shoutbox or through MSN isn't good enough.

So here's a post dedicated to corned beef, courtesy of Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. :D

Corned beef is beef that is first pickled in brine and then cooked by simmering. Usually, cuts of meat are used that feature long muscle grain, such as the brisket.

The name corned beef is due to a coarse salt used in the pickling process. Corn originally meant grain, as in a small particle of something, and referred to the corns of salt.

In the United States, corned beef is often purchased at delicatessens. Perhaps the most famous sandwich made with it is the Reuben sandwich, consisting of corned beef, Swiss cheese, sauerkraut, and Russian dressing on rye bread and then grilled on a flat griddle or cast iron pan. It is served hot. The Reuben was first developed in Omaha, Nebraska at the Blackstone Hotel. In certain regions, such as in Philadelphia, the Corned Beef Special is a popular offering. It is served cold. It is made by first steaming the corned beef and topping it with coleslaw, and then placing both between rye bread that is coated with Russian dressing. The Corned Beef Special was first developed by Charles Weber at R&W Deli in Philadelphia in 1957.

Katz's Deli in New York City serves large corned beef sandwiches.

It is also associated with Saint Patrick's Day when Irish Americans eat a traditional meal of corned beef and cabbage. According to the History Channel, while cabbage has long been a traditional food item for the Irish, corned beef serving as a substitute for Irish bacon first became traditional in the late 1800s. Irish immigrants living in New York City's Lower East Side sought an equivalent in taste and texture to their traditional Irish bacon (similar to Canadian bacon), and learned about this cheaper alternative to bacon from their Jewish neighbors. It is worth noting that this is slightly inaccurate as it suggests a universal change of tradition; to be more specific, this applies only to the tradition of Irish Americans. Most native Irish people would be surprised and amused (or possibly appalled) at the suggestion that corned beef and cabbage is a traditional Irish meal.

The Saint Patrick's Day tradition has been cause of some controversy among American Catholic dioceses in 2000 and 2006, when the holiday fell on a Friday during Lent. Lenten custom dictates that no meat be consumed on Fridays during Lent. Controversy has arisen because some bishops have granted dispensations to their dioceses for eating corned beef on St Patrick's Day.

Corned beef hash is commonly served as a breakfast food with eggs and hash browns.

Smoking corned beef, usually with the addition of extra spices such as black pepper, produces a cold cut known as pastrami, or, in Canada, smoked meat.

Hope that answered your question, Jess. Heh.

***

It was an extremely drama weekend (although Sarah accuses me of overdramatizing everything). Thanks la, for your love and support. Don't know what I'd do without you. Ho ho ho.

Got my first (and hopefully last - touch wood touch wood touch the Hongkie) needlestick injury.

Was in Casualty over the weekend. Some Indian macha came in with an allergic reaction to a centipede bite. My colleague administered the injections, while I stood behind him watching. He needed a bandage once it was done, so I offered him one. It was the end of our shift, and we were both pretty tired. Before I knew what was going on, I felt a prick in my palm.

The needle stuck me. Broke skin. It had the macha's blood on it.

Yippee. Panicked like hell. Asked him profusely. Ada main pompuan ah? Ada suntik dadah ah? Ada apa penyakit ah? Ha? Ha? Ha? Pasti ha?

Puki.

Blood results (the macha's) came back just today. The doctor called me while I was in the lecture theatre. Ran out.

No HIV, Hepatitis C, Hepatitis B. Apparently, he was telling the truth.

Touch wood touch wood touch the Hongkie.

Will not know for sure for another 6 months, as HIV sometimes takes that long to appear in a blood picture. Will need to check my blood in 6 weeks', 3 months' and 6 months' time.

But the risks are very very very low.

Touch wood touch wood touch the Hongkie.

Decided against taking HIV antiviral prophylaxis, as I don't think I can live with them side-effects.

Well. Touch wood touch wood touch the Hongkie.

She was there, holding my hand through it all. Even when she wasn't physically, she was.

So sweet hor?

***

Exams are in a week or so. Am running out of time.

So what else is new?

First Ever

2006-09-05T22:37:00.000+08:00

.. birthday shoutout on the Chaohai.

Why? She's special, that's why! (awwwwwwwww...)

Thanks for being my partner-in-senti. You've always given it to me straight, and for that I'm thankful.

The thing I remember best is us talking about corned beef when I was alone in my apartment in Dublin, waiting on the results of my resits. Ho ho.

Quirky.

Come 12th, you'll be 22!

Raincheck on the gift, yeah? Wink wink. Hahaha.

This is me hoping your celebs will be the best ever come the weekend.

You will always be the babe. :D

Happy birthday!

Hee Hee Ho Ho Hua Hua

2006-09-02T14:35:00.000+08:00

Right. There's been too much depressing-heavy shite of late.

What the Chaohai needs is some lovin'. Some old-fashioned spit-shining.

It was Tiff & Dengue's 4th anniversary. And it was also Merdeka day.

Bring out the Absolut, ladies.

And the night begins. Boogs & Paks, the two VVVIPs. Tsssssssssssss...

Boogs & Dengue. Sober. Still.

The intense, proper ones, with the addition of one very Screamish/squeamish Chaohai. Me scared, balls. I think I was hungry. I needed to chomp down. Ho ho.

Paks doing her "You no powderful. You no up to standard. Are you speeking wit meee?" She doesn't layan lame ass weak drinkers. Like me. So shy right?

Ah. Me hearting Dengue after making sure Tiff was nowhere near. Hehe. I don't think he enjoyed it. Four years man, no joke. When're the little ones coming?

Flo's "friend" from Medan. Ho ho ho. Hendra, you the shite. Those black kreteks were the shite. Lai lai laiiii wa lang limmmmmmmm! LIMMMMMMMM!!!

Mmm.. It feels good when you touch me there. Oii are you checking someone out?

They lost Boogs; one roomie short. Zara, Dengue & Tiff. Everyone so happy. Me likey. They likey.

And yes, the night has to end. Eventually. Cheers.

It was a good night. Happy days and more to you two.

Much love.

This Is

2006-09-02T13:59:00.000+08:00

..probably my saddest post ever.

To begin with, let me say that I know it's foolish and laughable to put so much stock on a thing. I know I know I do I do. I'm all too familiar with the treasures in heaven - worldly desires thingamajig.

But.

There are very few things that are dear to me. My sister, my sop stim senti bros, the missus.. and Lo-Bang.

Which is why this is going to be sad. Like pain pain sad sad.

Let me begin at the uh.. beginning.

It's been a hellish week for each and every Tan transport. It started with..

The farmer's cart. I was like.. Sigh.. Shit happens, whatever. We do drive in Penang after all. Shit happens. Story of my life.

Then it got freaky when shit happened to another one. But still, manageable. Not too much pain. Shit happens after all yeah? Yeah. Shit happens. No biggie.

The thing about damage to the body work - it's not thaaaattt bad, because a visit to the friendly cinapek uncle with a blowtorch, metal bender, and paint gun will sort it all out. Two days at the most, good as new.

But, if you fuck up something like the rims, then you have cause to worry.

Yes you guessed it. I kerbed Lo-Bang. Real bad. If you thought the incident three months ago was bad, uh.. it wasn't. This is bad. This really takes the cake. This buys the whole cake shop even.

Was going for a dinner I didn't really want to go for. Stupid. Arrived a bit late. Stupid. No parking in the conventional car park. Stupid. Had to use the rotary car park. Stupid. Had my doubts, as it looked pretty narrow, but didn't want to be fussy and all bodoh. Stupid. Drove onto the platform. Slowly.

Creeeeeekkkkkkk. Creeeeeeeekkkkkkkkkk.

Stupid stupid stupid.

The thing is, I'm not pissed at the cosmetic damage per se. I'm pissed at myself. For being so stupid. For not deciding against parking there. I mean, it was a fucking accident waiting to happen. Wide-stanced car, thin rubber, huge wheels. NARROW ROTARY PLATFORM. Accident. Waiting. To. Happen.

Man I can't live with being stupid. I can't live with making stupid mistakes. Dastardly ego.

A clearer picture, to drive home the pain. I kerbed not one, but two rims. Front left and rear right. Super duper kawaii, baby.

You cut me deep. You cut me deep.

Anyone knows of a solution bar swapping the whole set of rims? I'm receptive. And grateful.

The stupid Chaohai thought he only messed up the rims. But when he awoke this morning, he discovered a deep scratch running along the driver's door. With the aid of sunlight, one sees more.

And hurts. And hurts. And hurts.

Man the disappointment is so all-encompassing, I'd cry if I was a pussy. I would.

And yes, I know it's foolish, but I can't help feeling so. I can't help it.

***

Exams are in three weeks.

Yippee.

The missus has left on a jetplane. It's only for a day, it's only for a day, dammit. I know it's foolish, but I can't help feeling so. I can't help it.

I miss her.

Yippee.

Somehow I feel like someone jerked my heart out through my throat, did the Riverdance on it, then proceeded to fart on it. Then spit on it. Then kick it around a lil' bit.

Yes, drama. I know.

Happy Merdeka. Woot woot.

Privacy

2006-08-28T21:14:00.000+08:00

I've been thinking a lot about that these few days. About privacy, I mean.

How much do we really need for ourselves? Like how much should you keep just for yourself?

It goes without saying that certain things are best left unsaid, that certain things you should never ever divulge. Naturally.

But who decides where to draw the line? Yourself?

I think we usually follow the social norm when it comes to things like that, and... it's not all bad.

Right, as usual, I'm not making sense. Thinking out loud.

I guess in the end, it's all bout being comfortable. And it has to be.

***

Was downstairs to grab meself a Yakult when the farmer called out.

Oi ah boy ah, go cut pineapple.

Ha? How to cut pineapple?

*silence*

*more silence*

What do you mean how to cut pineapple? Use a knife la! Do you know how to eat rice?

What has eating rice got to do with anything? *slurps on Yakult* And you gotta cut left cut right when you cut pineapple right? All the lubang and shit that will cut your tongue otherwise.

Oh. No la. It's already deholed. Just slice it into smaller pieces.

*silence*

*silently walks upstairs to have tea and listen to Zero 7*

***

My glasses broke about a month or so ago. I didn't do anything, they just broke, promise. So I had to use my geeky spare pair. Things were quite blurry the last month or so. If I complimented you on your looks in the aforementioned period of time, now you know I wasn't really telling the truth ya.

Ho ho ho.

So I went with the sister to make a new pair. She got itchy while I was trying on the different frames, so she made a pair too.

The sister came to pick me up from lectures this evening to collect and fit the new glasses. So nice hor. On a side note she slid a box of weird japanese biscuits into my schoolbag a few days ago as a surprise. So nice hor? I think she was feeling bad cause she asked me to FUCK OFF a few days back when I was really really bugging her. Haha.

I picked out her pair. Nice yeah? Doesn't she look super pretty dashing chun like a sunflower on a summer day? And yes, this is the sister. I don't think I've ever put up a picture of her before. I hope she doesn't give me hell for this. She reads the Chaohai, so powerful hor my reverse psychology?

Don't let the demure exterior fool you. This is one savvy lady. You kena you sure die wan. Cause the farmer will skin you alive, after she's done shredding your soul.

Ho ho. Don't scold me ya. Remember I paid for your stupid pumpkin frapp. Hor.

This was what the sister picked out for me. I think it's pretty okay - pretty similar to the ones which broke. I wanted a funkier pair but kena ban. I wasn't trying to look cute. I was trying to blow at something I think.

Wokey good night sleep tight and remember to take your vitamins.

It's gonna be a long weeked. Three cheers for National Day.

Or summat.

The Long & Winding Road

2006-08-26T23:58:00.000+08:00

Saturday, the 26th of August, 2006.

Today is a good day.

And so it begins, sweet, beautiful as it always is.

The thing is, what'll happen when the la-la-la wears off?

It's not like me to say stuff like this, but I hope and pray that it goes well, that it all works out.

I wish I could freeze-frame right now and keep it with me in a deep dark recess of my heart, where it can be readily called upon shall I ever need a lift. Or a reminder when things get tough.

And so it begins.

Comments disabled.

Kekeliruan

2006-08-23T06:38:00.000+08:00

My last rant was a source of confusion for not one, but two of my friends.

And neither was the backstabbing sonofabitch I was talking about. Sadly.

Awkward, sial. Malu, sial.

Which got me thinking, were they doing something behind my back, hence the guilty conscience, hence the perasan-ness? Haha lawak.

Man I say that with not a trace of sarcasm.

I appreciate that you had the guts to talk to me about it, I respect that you have mucho balls, bro.

That said, I'm a very straightforward, uninhibited, irreverant dick. So if it was you, you'd definitely know it.

Sorry bout the confusion, man.

You're a good friend, both of you are. Me love you long time. But now that you know it's not you, I'm sure you're on your way to figuring out who the venom was directed at. This is me hoping you'd let it go, and forget it. Don't bother finding out who it is, heh.

And also, the hongkie doesn't read the Chaohai. She's missing out, for sure, but I'd rather it stays this way, yeah?

On a side note, had a long chat with the correct correct correct bitch. I haven't talked to a guy for so long in ages. Emo senti talk and all that shite, but - luckily and gladly - no violence. Neither fists nor kicks flew. Which doesn't do much in the drama and material-for-posts department, but at least the friendship didn't combust. Not by very much, anyway. In the end... All's fair in love and war, yeah?

Plus don't forget - I'm the cockiest, most confident motherfucker in the history of mankind. So I think I'll emerge victorious. The rest of ya can suck it slow.

Off to the wards then.

So drama, right?

Mummy, Look At The Pretty Colours

2006-08-21T20:53:00.000+08:00

Okay I know I have forsaken almost all structure and comprehensibility when it comes to my posts, but fuck it, me tired.

I came to a realization earlier.

Today was probably one of the worst days in recent memory. Managed only about 2 hours of sleep the night before; had to be in the wards by eight. Wards lasted all the way till one in the afternoon.

Grabbed a quick lunch, then the whole evening was a blur, going here, there, everywhere. There were errands that had to be run. Went back to college for a lecture in the evening, played a few hours of basketball, sped off home (after being turned down a visit I sorely needed).

Had dinner, and am now here in front of the MacBook, tired as hell.

Tired like you wouldn't believe.

Back to my realization, my epiphany, my clouds-parting, trumpets-blaring moment. As sad as it may sound, this blog is probably one of the best friends I have (besides you of course, BABE - and with that I mean my dermatologically-challanged bitch). It doesn't turn me down, it doesn't complain, it's patient - never asking for anything even if I don't layan. For however long.

No. I am never shutting this down. No. Even if it IS weeks between posts, I'll never leave you, beloved Chaohai. You give me solace, you give me peace when I need it most. Me love you long time.

Haha. Such bullshit, a love letter wasted on something which can't even respond. Somehow though, I find that comforting.

By the way, Larry was here over the weekend. It was an insane insane insane week, filled with loads and loads of booze and weird (albeit cool) happenings. I won't desecrate its sanctity by trying to describe it. Now he's on the bus back to KL. Much love, bitch.

Okay, enough ranting.

Pictures, then. Of the Langkawi trip.

Ahh. Beautiful, innit? Mutiara Burau Bay Resort, forget it not.

The Chaohai with Dr. Vijay. We did a lot of this.

I told you we did a lot of this. Dr. Jeffers is staring at Dr. Vijay's tits, while the Chaohai is hearting the hammock. Dr. Vijay looks blur. He's always blur, come to think of it. Ha ha.

The Chaohai on the hammock, silently bitching bout the RM7 Cokes. Dei can feed small third-world country like Singapore dei, RM7 Cokes. Madness. Ya ya cheapo chinaman. Well fuck you too.

Us looking at the monkeys, Dr. Jeffers photographing Larry who's in turn photographing us. The customary noontime Heineken. Bliss. No worries. No backstabbing sonofabitch friends watching you from behind. Hah.

The Chaohai at the wheel of our Ferrari-Iswara. Power sial. It was so powerful it kept dying at roadblocks all over Langkawi, after which it refused to start. Scary. Plus the fuel gauge was fucked beyond St. Christopher, making it impossible to estimate when to refill. Scary. Ferrari-Iswara, RM40 a day. What an experience.

Larry lying on the bed, layaning weird shite like trip-hop, dreampop, Regina Spectre's statue song, bossanova, flamenco, and more. Much more. Oh Larry. Sop stim.

Checking out. I was kinda glad to be leaving. I was starting to miss my chocolate, and also Char Koay Teow. Oh the naive Chaohai, how stupid you were. How could you have wanted to come back to this? THIS??

I really like this picture. It's very relevant, very fitting, a perfect summary of a not-so-perfect yet fantastic holiday.

I guess looking at the pictures makes my humdrum life seem even more humdrum somehow.

Was talking to Andrew (Yap - a colleague of mine) a week or so back. It turns out we're both not really enjoying what we're doing right now.

I hope it's just a phase, but it's worrying all the same. I'm not one to give up, and therein lies the problem. I won't give up, which means I'll just bitch, grit my teeth, and pull through.

Wherever shall I end up once I'm pass squeezing through the narrow, cold tube that is today, now? I don't know. That was meant to be rhetorical, bitch.

I hope it's just a phase, but it's worrying all the same.

On a side note, things with the Hongkie are.. okay. I don't know, really. I think I'm at a point where I don't let myself hope for anything no more. Which is good and also bad at the same time. The worrying thing is, I think I've fallen harder than I was ready to fall. And I don't know as of yet if she's capable of layaning my senti emo sop stim side. Plus, there's a stone in my shoe.

You were my friend before all of this started, man. If only you had told me, it'd be different. I'd have done things differently, for sure. I don't wanna say anything because what I can piece together right now is attributed to many small fragments that I've gotten from multiple sources, thus the lack of trust on their authenticity.

You were my friend before all of this started, man. If only you had said something. It's no fun finding out like this. I hate drama. Especially the unique, fluffy-pink awkwardness that inherently comes with stuff like this.

You were my friend before all this started, man. Remember the saying - bros before... blabla? And I really mean it. I'm not some patronising cunt you find on Chow Kit.

Fuck it. I need a shower. And my bed.

A Reply

2006-08-08T17:11:00.000+08:00

The Ingolstadt boys do not sit idle. Nah, take that. And that. And hurt!

Just look at that front. Mannnnn. *orgasms* *orgasms again*

Winning the Le Mans might not mean loads to the common ah pek, but you gotta take it in context.

BMW has long prided itself on its racing heritage, specifically its endurance racing dominance of days past. But that was back in like the thirties/forties/fifties. I wasn't born yet then, so I can't comment. Heck the farmer wasn't even born yet.

A hyuk a hyuk.

Days past are the key words here. The last time they won was in 99. Audi has owned since then.

Owned. Owned owned owned.

Wokey I know the posts are more boring than usual, but me like cars. Me like cars very much. And the Audi/BMW debate never fails to ignite the fuse stuck up my ass.

What The

2006-08-07T21:23:00.001+08:00

..fuck is this?

No, no. Bullshite. Completely unnecessary.

At least Audi's engine slapped back. Engine of the year for two years running, okayyyyyy?

Nah take that. I know this is very subjective, but least Audis don't look gay, okayyyyyy?

Ku Ku Ciau

2006-08-07T03:56:00.000+08:00

It's nearing four in the a.m. and I can't seem to fall asleep.

Decided to pop a Heineken and blog-hop.

Accidentally overwrote the photos in the iPod, and am now left with nothing.

Three years of pics, and the only hope of salvaging them lies with the oh-so-dead PowerBook.

Damn. No good. No good.

Fuck I want to kick something.

New Beginning

2006-08-05T23:10:00.000+08:00

Fulamak I know the title sounds damn keng, but it's nothing deep la; what I want to say.

Am finally rid of the hassle of sharing a computer with the sister. More importantly, am free from the eternal hellfire bondage that is using Windows.

Fuck man no kidding. In the one month or so since my PowerBook died on me, the sister's computer had to be formatted twice and we've had to reinstall Windows almost a dozen times. Spyware, trojan, backdoor, virus and dunno what other ku ku ciau fucked up-ness.

No kidding, baby. Not joking.

My feet are up on the table cause I want to give the sister's Dell as many fingers as possible. I've nothing against the maker, I just pity that it runs stupid fucking cibai Windows. And yes, the sister's old laptop (at the back) is only worthy enough to be a placemat to my ashtray.

It doesn't even deserve to be my ashtray - if it was, I'd ash all over it, trust me.

Sorry there's so much hate, but they have given me too much shit. Too much too much shit.

So it's goodbye ku ku ciaus..

And hello MacBook. *flashes toothy grin*

I really wanted a MacBook Pro, but they were too freaking expensive. Considering the extra fields the farmer and I would have to plow, I (painfully) bid the Pro adieu. Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend. I am sure you'd have been tight. Tight. Woo tight.

My only complaint about the new toy thus far is that it runs really really hot. Man it will burn your balls/ovaries and guarantee you a life free from the noise and bullshit that children come with, if you dare use it on your lap.

Laptop. What an oxymoron.

Notice the two stacks of Carlsberg coasters I prop the MacBook up on? That's my temporary solution - my own makeshift laptop cooling system - until I get something more.. or less, rather, stupid-looking.

I suspect that's what killed my PowerBook - overheating. The table is glass-topped, and doesn't really do much in terms of dispersing heat.

They were selling these metal frame things which looked like mutilated coat hangers - to prop your laptop up, for like 69 bucks. Highway robbery, I tell you. Someone has to sell Apple in Penang as well, and actually offer some form of discount.

Anyone interested in a joint-venture?

Man they charged me 30 bucks for a stupid FireWire cable, which turned out to be useless in the end, as I still can't transfer my stuff from the PowerBook. Woe is me. Just what the fuck am I gonna do?

I only gave the old girl a foot, as it served me ever-so-faithfully for three odd years. Too bad you had to blow up, bitch. Too bad I still can't pry all my documents and shite out of you (hopefully there will be a yet at the end of that sentence). We could have been good together, you and I. Sigh.

By far the coolest feature - the remote. Now I can watch porn from a distance - saving my screen from the occupational hazard that is the cum stain. Ho ho. And I can pause, rewind, fast-forward, even turn the volume up. Double ho ho. Let me tell you, cum stains are impossible to remove from the screen. Not to mention quite unhygienic. They turn yellow when they dry up.

Wokey too much R-rated stuff. Soli soli.

The built-in camera can do some pretty cool shit. So hemsem, hor? I look like some guy from that that that.. cartoon. The pretty recent 3D CGI whatnot one. Ding I can't think of the title.

Am off. Supper calls. I don't wanna keep Mr. Mohd. Raffe waiting.

As always, much love.

The Real World

2006-08-03T04:09:00.000+08:00

..is calling. Oh the wretched sound. Ohh. Ohhhhh pain pain pain.

The holidays are soon coming to an end. Reality beckons, and with it comes a whole truckful of shit. Man there's so much work to be done, and I just realised - bitching about it whilst not doing anything doesn't make it go away.

Damn.

Fuck man. Fuck fuck fuck I'm not ready to be pulled back into the real world. I don't want to go to school, I don't want to get back into the wards. I don't want to see sick people.

How come hot girls never get sick? How come Kim Jung-Hwa doesn't fall sick and go to Penang GH?

Tasty. Yum. Kim Jung-Hwaaaaaaaa.

Langkawi was fun. The hotel was fantastic - Mutiara Burau Bay Resort. I highly recommend it, unless the alcohol was fucking around with me head and it was really actually just a shithole.

Ho ho ho.

Still waiting on the pics, will put them up when I get them from Mr. Lalilu.

Just got back from a superb mamak session with the guys. It's CK's last night in Penang before he heads back to KL, then the states.

Haha. I really like this picture. Alvin cracks me up. Haha. Haha.

Anyway, I came home, ready for my bedtime Heineken. Reached for the fridge.. and damn.

Disaster.

There were none left. Fuck. There were only lame nata de testical coconut ball drinks, which I only stock to serve to Heineken-unfriendly guests. Ahem. Cough.

Went downstairs to the larger fridge, and there were none too. Zero. Zilch.

The pissing-off part?

Loads in the storeroom. Cibai. Puki.

Dunno which fucker only know how to drink but dunno how to refill the fridge.

Er.. That would be me. Oops. Haha. Fuck.

Man.. I'm only ranting cause I'm doing what I'm best at - procrastinating.

Anyway, I'd like to welcome James a.k.a. Casko Lee to the blogging community. Go read his shit and be sure to leave really sarcastic comments.

It's gonna be a weird night, falling asleep. A Heineken-less night. Sob.

I think I might be addicted. Ding.

Shite I can hear a cock crowing.

Song of the moment - Destiny by Zero 7. It came on while the iPod was on shuffle, and images of Kate Bosworth surfing the waves of Oahu came crashing down on me. Damn she's fine. Great great great song. Go listen.

Goodnight, my friends.

The Hongkie Goes On Holiday

2006-07-24T06:06:00.000+08:00

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

2006-07-22T07:43:00.000+08:00

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

2006-07-21T02:18:00.000+08:00

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

2006-07-12T03:46:00.000+08:00

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

2006-07-09T01:56:00.000+08:00

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

2006-07-02T09:06:00.000+08:00

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.

Mickey

2006-06-26T18:04:00.000+08:00

Was walking by a toy shop with my sister the other day.

I used to love playing with one of these when I was a little boy.

Fulamak damn advanced right? It even comes with a little drawer which stores the cool geometric stamps.

Last paper is tomorrow. It's a practical case in the wards.

Bloody hell my luck's never been good, but this is me praying that it actually turns around for once.

I.. can't.. concentrate.

Pik! Pik!

Dedicated To The Fighter

2006-06-24T13:17:00.000+08:00

I was stunned when I heard.

I wanted to visit you come July. I was really going to.

I guess I am too late.

I know with all my heart that you are in a better place.

Thank you for all your advice, for welcoming me into your home, for everything.

Rest in peace.

Stay strong, bro. I can only imagine how difficult it must be. Don't forget, you still have loads of people to fall back on, if ever you need someone.

Comments disabled.

Blur

2006-06-24T07:20:00.000+08:00

It's seven in the morning and I just woke up.

Went to bed at seven last night; was supposed to wake up four hours later to meet some friends in Slippery's. My phone started ringing at twelve. They were looking for me. Shit-faced tired, I put my phone on silent, rolled over, went back to bed.

Mistake.

Just got up now.

There were multiple texts on my phone when I woke up. All expressed disappointment and disbelief. It was a pretty important get-together, as one of the girls' boyfriend is down from Dublin to visit. And I promised promised to be there.

Wah super senti emo ramble. I feel really bad. Shouldn't have stood them up. It was my first time standing them up, but it wasn't my first time turning them down. That I have done quite often.

They're kinda new friends, see. We were all in Dublin together, but in different colleges. And now that we're back in PMC, we're classmates. And they're the bunch I feel most comfortable with, I'd say.

They're a cool bunch; fantastic people to hang out with, but I just always seem to not be able to join them for stuff. Ah. Shite. Now I don't know how to apologise.

I'm bloody tired. Sleep time is all fucked up. The papers went alright, but what's next is most probably gonna be the killer. Come Tuesday, I'm gonna have to go to the wards. They will randomly assign me a patient and I'll have to take a thorough history, perform a thorough examination and come out with a diagnosis.

And it will be supervised. The surgeon/physician in charge will ask questions, tell me to perform specific maneuvers etc etc.

I'm fine with the pressure. I'm okay under pressure. What I'm worried about is my lack of knowledge. I don't know all that much. (I think it's due to the fact that I'm a lazy waster.) But I'm a confident/cocky fucker and therein lies the problem.

Based on whatever scraps of medical knowledge I know (which may not be that accurate), the cogs in my mind will spin into overdrive, and I'd try to figure out an answer. 'Figuring out' is not the best thing in medicine. It's best to 'know'. Haha.

And the thing is, I'd be there, trying to bullshit my way through, turning left, turning right, confusing the surgeon/physician in question. In the end, they'll usually be looking at me with a bewildered expression on their faces. And scratching down a very low mark on their clipboard.

More often than not, I'll be digging my own grave. Deeper and deeper. The fucked up thing is, everything you say, you have to back up with facts.

For example.. if on examination of the eyes, if there is significant protrusion, you're supposed to say like.. There is proptosis (of which eye/or both) or There is exopthalmos. Then you'll see the surgeon/physician's face light up, his lips will curl into an evil smile..

Please explain the mechanism of proptosis/exopthalmos.

Which is pretty simple, even for a loser like me. (The answer is abnormal connective tissue deposition in the orbits or ocular muscle hypertrophy.)

But.

Sometimes if I get a really obscure finding (let's say a murmur when you're listening to the heart - my greatest nightmare) then I'm pretty much fucked. Basically my mind is working like crazy, trying to stop my mouth from working before it's too late. I'll be thinking to myself: Can I back this statement up with the relevant facts?

It's usually a super big fat no in my case, so all the patients I examine in the exam setting are perfectly healthy, devoid of any weird signs. Ho ho.

But sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my head, and I die.

And if I really don't know, I tell them I don't know, which pisses a lot of them off. Haha.

Wokey, enough of boring med stuff. My apologies.

I'm really quite the blur right now. I have a cigarette hanging out the side of my mouth, but I just realised - there's another cigarette stuck onto the ashtray.

Man. So wasted. Think of all the people in 3rd world countries without adequate fags. And here I am.. wasting a perfectly good Marlboro Light.

...

I've started to dream again. Just that this time, they aren't sad nor depressing. No. This time, they're the dangerous type. The ones that give you hope. The ones that spur you on.

The ones that scream HEY BABY JUST DO IT GO FOR IT.

When I open my eyes, I'm pissed to find myself in my bed, slobbering all over my pillow. For it means the dream wasn't true (d'oh!).

There's no Pikachu waiting in the kitchen downstairs with tapau-ed breakfast, there's no cuddly yellow soft toy waiting to go for Tokyo Drift with me. No one called me up in the middle of the night saying I love you I love you please take me now I am yours.

Ho ho. I should probably be thinking about the more pressing matters at hand, like how my doom will be decided come Tuesday. But no.. No.. I'm thinking about a girl.

Story of my life.

Oink

2006-06-19T21:56:00.000+08:00

My big sister has exams right now too.

She was playing with my stressball.

Meet Oink. I got her from some promo that was going on in Earlsfort Terrace when I was in Dublin.

This is Oink 3 minutes after meeting my sister.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Bloody hell.

I'm quite pissed. I liked Oink.

Here We Go Again

2006-06-19T18:44:00.000+08:00

Man I'm crazy bored. And sick of studying. There's so much to do. And it doesn't seem to be getting any easier. It doesn't seem to lessen; the amount that has to be covered.

It's been raining a lot lately. Makes for good naps. Not the best weather to be studying though. Plus you can't leave the windows open.

Lotsa rain (like.. super-saiyan torrential..) also makes for a great view from the bedroom. Woo.. Cotton candy. Candyy..

Tilt the lens downwards though, and this is what you see. Newton and his stupid action-reaction second law. Bloody hell can't be too clean can it?

It's pretty bad, it is.

Haha what does that look like to you? Two chocolate crocodiles hunting for lunch.

And here we are, back again. It's neverending. Bloody hell I'm so sick of this shit. Fuck me, balls.

Damn no mood man. Damn damn no mood. I just want to whine the day away. I don't wanna sit for the exams. I think it's fucking unnecessary. I'm very able, I am. Really. You don't have to examine me. Just pass me.

I don't want to do this anymore. All I want is to go out with you and have chocolate cake.

It's Official

2006-06-14T21:48:00.000+08:00

..I have PMS.

I'm pulling a Kenny Sia - posting random images, totally unrelated to me posts.

I've been back in Penang for.. say.. three months or so.

Only just now, I cancelled my Irish credit and ATM card. I changed the time settings on Blogger, Shoutbox, Webstats and my e-mail accounts from GMT to GMT+8.

I updated my Friendster account and set the location to Malaysia once again.

I added Penang Medical College to the list of schools, after University College Dublin.

Heck, I even logged on to the UCD website where they used to post all our lectures. Just for old times' sake.

Oddly, I feel a bit sad. I kinda miss it.

Fuck me I'm losing my balls.

Jeng jeng jenggg.

Good times. Us in our Focus C-Max rental. On the way back from seafood in Dun Laoghire, we stopped by the road so that Aisyah could take a picture of the Dublin skyline. Didn't work though. Haha.

Exams are soon. Pukitiang!

Mm Dim!

2006-06-13T13:40:00.000+08:00

Marvin summed it up great in his last post. Exams really bring out the little yellow birds which circle your head. And force them into overdrive.

Zoom zoom zoom.

I really enjoy reading Khang Wei's blog. Entertaining like fuck. You guys still remember him from school? Never know the guy had so much lurking underneath. It's the the the the shite man. Irreverent, curt, abrasive as hell. Hope he doesn't mind me plugging him here. More power to ya, don't let it stop.

It's been raining cats and dogs for the past month or so. Monsoon season. Wondering when it'll end - so I can add car-washing to my list of inane things to do when procrastinating.

Decided to skip wards this morning. Staying home and attacking the books should prove to be a more rewarding experience. Have yet to get to the attacking part, but it'll come. It will. It better.

It's really pouring now. It's lashing - slap slap slap slap slap against the glass doors. I'll take a picture.

Whoa.

Anyway. Anyway.

Something wicked this way comes. (Is that how it went in Harry Potter? Can't remember..)

I haven't felt this way in a long time. There's a certain someone nudging into the picture. Nudging is right tho. Ever so slightly. Right now. Bad timing. But at least she's safe till after my exams. Ho ho ho.

Am in deep contemplation, trying to dissect my emotions. Should I go for it? Or is there too much at stake? Man.. I don't really want to risk leaving my happy zone, my comfy shell. Haha.

I've learnt (through trial and catastrophic error) not to trust myself too much in situations like this. To not trust my decisions, per se. I have a supremely fucked up thought process.

The idealist in me, though largely supressed (beaten to death by my exes), still hides in there somewhere. Thus, my decision making process usually consists of many brightly coloured scenes, us running barefoot over lush rolling green fields etc. etc. in my screwed up little head.

Haha. How very Sound Of Music.

I don't know. I have lots to think about.

But.. It's so bloody difficult to pretend otherwise. Everytime I talk to her, she's just so adorable. Think Pikachu on steroids. Okay.. That's not very convincing, but trust me, she's very.. attractive.

Should I? God knows I needn't another fiasco.

Huh?

2006-06-11T22:33:00.000+08:00

I post more when I'm stressed. You've probably noticed a pattern by now.

And I tend to ramble (a lot more than usual) too.

Exams are soon, but yet I can't really seem to get into gear. I'm trying, I am, but it's not really working.

Die, balls. Die.

Spent the whole of today doing fuck all. And I mean fuck all. It even came to me watching Top 100 Teen Celebrities on MTV.

Of course, once I realised what I was doing, I stopped myself. And I flicked onto the travel channel.

Haha.

Went out for dinner with a few mates, thinking it'd help me blow off some steam.

Didn't work. Conversation inexplicably veered towards that of the upcoming exams.

Came home feeling overwhelmed and stressed. At least I was full.

Pics! Yeah, pics always help.

Traffic's always bumper to bumper on weekends. It really really sucks. Don't you guys have anything better to do? Why do all you people go to Gurney when I need to? Why? Anyway. I've always liked the neon signs plastered all over Sunrise Tower. Gives it a lil' Piccadilly Circus vibe doesn't it? Chun.

Ladies and gentlemen, I've discovered the best midnight Hokkien Mee in Penang. No question about it. Say sayonara jumpa lagi to Green House and its overpriced, totally underwhelming Mee Udang and head on over to Hot Wok (next to the Subaidah mamak stall near Island Plaza). They're open till 3 a.m. I think, They have good leng teh too. Wowee.

This pic really cracks me up. Jia Hwei's 22nd was just two days back. Apparently, I furrow my eyebrows a lot. I never knew. Man I look like a dick. And yeah, Happy Birthday!

Lo-Bang

2006-06-10T13:58:00.000+08:00

..is her name. It might sound a little vulgar, but it's me you're talking to after all, okay?

It's not lubang, it's not loobang, it's not even hole.

It's Lo-Bang. Like how you pronounce loh bak. Lo-Bang.

When the lo forms and creeps out of the confines of your mouth, your lips should form an O, a perfect sphincter, like you're puckering up to suckle on your mama's tit.

Marvin calls his Belle, Chin Kian calls his.. uh.. I dunno. I think he calls his baby.

I call mine Lo-bang! Don't you forget it now. I'd think I'd have hammered it in by now.

My favourite angle. Note the muscular flanks. She might be a girl, but she's still scary enough to force your testicles to seek refuge in the warm, moist recess that is your buttcrack. If you don't have any testicles, fret not.

Nobody's perfect.

At least got milk. For coffee.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

Right, right. Back to the picture. Pay attention to her flared wheel-arches. Is she not breathtaking? Note how her wheels fill them perfectly, leaving no trace of waste, no remnants of unexploited grip.

And man, look at those tyres. I love looking at her shoes. See the four purposeful longkang/longkau/monsoon drains, perfectly formed to zoom-zoom on fucked-up (wet) Malaysian roads, not forsaking even an iota of grip.

Oh Lo-bang how I love you. How I'd like to play with your exhaust pipes.

Urhm. Urhmm.

I think that's enough, don't you?

I fucked it all up the other night. Kerbed Lo-bang's front right rim. Damn. Puki cibai.

I wouldn't have if there weren't passengers in the car. I'm used to driving alone, so my judgement of ride height is very inflexible. Because there was added weight, the tyres were stressed more, bringing the rim closer to the ground.

It's not like I'm blaming you guys. Fuckers.

Haha.

I have exams in ten days or so. It'll form ten percent of my final grade. My final, final grade.

God help me. Fuck fuck fuck.

Venting

2006-05-08T20:06:00.000+08:00

Drama, drama.

The maid was just sent packing today. Mom apparently discovered a sorta mini shrine the maid's room. Apparently (for I didn't see it myself) there was a picture of my parents surrounded by all sorts of weird stuff. Scented oils, pictures of creepy people (bomohs?), plus a cup with herbs and two paper hearts in it.

Apparently. I can't be sure.

Freaky yeah?

When I first heard about it, I was boiling mad. We treat her very very well, and I felt sorta cheated. What about the whole karma cycle do good others will come back?

Why the hell did she bring all this shit into our home?

Then my sister calmed me down a bit. Sis said she was sure the maid meant us no harm. Maybe it's just so ingrained into their life (this jampi jampi crap) that they can't really function without it.

Maybe she just wanted to make sure we treated her well.

I mean, we would have, even without all the mumbojumbo. And we did.

Man it sucked looking at her pack. The agent was checking every single item to make sure she didn't swipe anything of ours.

I really don't care about all the bomoh hullaballo, I don't think it works, and I'm not scared of whatever spirits she conjures up to ensure her welfare. I can say that cockily cause I don't believe in it. If I did, I wouldn't be so confident, heh.

But my parents were pretty freaked out by the whole thing.

And knowing my mom has a genetic predisposition for drama (she's Singaporean, she can't help it), maybe it was all just a huge misunderstanding.

I don't know. If it does come down to my mom's word against hers, I have to take my mom's side. I just have to. Understand?

It's just a really sad day. Not sad per se.. more like emo, or senti.

It's not quite fair yeah, how some people have it so easy from day one, and some have to work like fuck just to get by.

Yeah, yeah.. I know I'm starting to sound awfully patronising and hypocritical, but these things really make me think. Really.

Fuck lah.

At least we didn't scold her. I asked about the witchcraft, and she knelt on the ground straightaway, swearing she didn't know anything about it.

I don't know, was she lying? Don't know. Never will.

But I think she was.

When she walked out of the door, I was so disappointed in her I didn't even reply when she apologised for anything wrong she's done in the past seven months.

Damn, I should've said something. Closure.

Fuck dei.. Life is quite the bitch yeah?

And this makes the third maid who didn't make the grade. The first one kept crying all the time for no apparent reason, the second one ran away (but she didn't swipe stuff).

I guess it just doesn't work, the whole hired help thing and my family.

Damn I have to start cleaning up after myself now.

We're not getting another maid.

See lah, like that already so emo senti sop sop stim. How to handle a girlfriend right?

Sorry, kak. Life's a bitch.

Confused thoughts equals a structureless entry. Sorry.

Lists

2006-05-07T23:13:00.000+08:00

I'm driving down to Port Dickson this long weekend for a conference.

Just received an e-mail briefing us on the schedule and stuff.

With it was a list.

Checklist for PMPM

¸ Formal wear (for grand dinner & talks/forums)
¸ Casual wear
¸ Undergarments
¸ Socks
¸ Shoes (formal and sports)
¸ Towels
¸ Tie, belt, brooch, hair pins, accessories
¸ Swim wear
¸ Cap
¸ Toiletries (toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, soap, cleanser, sun block, shavers etc)
¸ Playing cards
¸ Drinking water
¸ Sunglasses
¸ Stationeries (markers, pens, ruler, paper)
¸ Phone chargers
¸ Purse with money
¸ Watch
¸ Camera
¸ PMPM registration forms (if not submitted yet)
¸ Bag that can fit all of the above

¸ Most importantly… YOU!

Whoa. Most importantly, me? I feel so.. important. And I better not forget a bag, lest all my stuff (especially my undergarments) roll around in the trunk.

And of course, a purse.. with money! Don't want an empty purse, no, no. Which reminds me, I must remember my driving licence. And also drinking water.

I'm surprised they didn't include pads/tampons (if you're female, and you have your period) in the list.

Haha. And it's a medical conference. I'm sure a lot of people are regretting signing up right about now. No hard feelings if you made up that list though. I know I'm a sarcastic fuck, but I'm very likeable. And this is the only place I can vent.

Really.

Man I hope it won't be boring. I could really use three days of fun in the sun.

Starting surgery tomorrow. Thank fuck it's a long weekend.

I like Wesak day. Happy birthday, Mr. Gautama.

Croak

2006-04-24T23:47:00.000+08:00

I was smoking in the garden just now. Mr. Paddy Chicken decided to join me.

Senti sop stim gila wei. Will update soon.

Pain

2006-04-12T22:12:00.000+08:00

I'm supposed to be reading up on the breast, as I have a tutorial tomorrow, but I can't stand looking at another diseased tit, so here I am.

I have a really disgusting blister on my middle finger.

How did I get it?

As with all stories, we have to start at the beginning.

A long time ago (last week actually), a colleague of mine got into a accident (actually, 6 different colleagues of mine got into 6 separate accidents last week, but that's deviating). Her car was totally fucked, so I offered her my transportation services if ever she needed them (as usual lah, wanting to be the ultimate champion).

We have badminton every Tuesday night. She's kinda my doubles partner, so of course I picked her up (and her housemate) for our session last night.

We usually have dinner after badminton.

Uh, so we did.

Dinner was ikan bakar near Tesco. After dinner, her housemate wanted to go buy milk. So I took them to buy milk.

They ended up buying a bookshelf for their place as well.

So I helped them with the bookshelf. It was quite heavy, and quite a waste of time. But of course, the whole champion complex came into play. Once again.

When I dropped them home (=carried the bookshelf up), they asked ever so sweetly if I could please assist them in setting the bookshelf up. Tesco bookself ma.. DIY, balls.

The ultimate super champion of course said yes.

With some makeshift tools, I managed to put in 24 separate screws (which of course was necessary in the process of assembling the bookshelf).

Super champion right? Thank you, thank you.

And that's how I got the blister.

It's not very pleasant, having a blister on your middle finger.

It hurts when I shower.

I have to stick my middle finger up for everything; especially when I examine patients (no weird ass skin infections for me, thanks). We don't routinely use gloves for anything except for maybe a rectal exam, so there.

Man it sucks being a hero.

Plus some bitch really rubbed it in today.

"Wow, you must masturbate real vigorously".

Thanks la, balls.

Chinky

2006-04-10T20:09:00.000+08:00

I'm not usually one to do the whole forward-this-forward-this thingamajig, but this struck a chord.

Plus it kinda qualifies as one entry, so there.

28 + 3 Ways To Know You're Asian.

You know you're Asian if..

1. You unwrap gifts very carefully, so you can save and reuse the
wrapping (and especially those ribbons). I used to do that

2. When there is a sale on toilet paper, you buy 100 rolls and store
them in your closet or in the bedroom of an adult child who has moved
out. I do that for toothpaste. Toothbrushes too. You can never have too much of either, okay?

3. You keep a thermos of hot water available at all times. Hey. I have a thermos in my car all the time. But it's just plain cool water. The thermos stops it from heating up when you leave it under the sun, okay?

4. You save grocery bags, tin foil and tin containers. You use the grocery bags to hold garbage. Yup.

5. You hate to waste food..
a) Even if you're totally full, if someone says they're going to throw away the leftovers on the table, you'll finish them. (Your mom will give a lecture about starving kids in Africa). Bosnia, more like. Or Somalia.
b) You have Tupperware in your fridge with three bites of rice or one leftover chicken wing. Which goes into the bin at the end of every month.

6. You don't own any real Tupperware.. only a cupboard full of used but carefully rinsed margarine tubs, take out containers and jam jars. Got Tupperware la, got la.

7. You have a collection of miniature shampoo bottles that you take every time you stay in a hotel. Guilty. Sometimes.

8. You wipe your plate and utensils or wash them in a small basin of hot water before you eat every time you go to a restaurant. Nope, not this one.

9. You own a rice cooker and a slow cooker. When I was in Dublin.

10. You wash your rice at least 2-3 times before cooking it. Isn't that how you're supposed to do it?

11. You fight (literally) over who pays the dinner bill. Yala, my favourite. I like to act like the taukeh. Haha.

12. You have a teacup with a cover on it. Huh?

13. If you're under age 20, you own a really expensive walkman, and if you're over 20, you own a really expensive camera. Nope. My digicam is like.. 5 years old, babe.

14. You're a wok user. Ahuh.

15. You only make long distance calls after 7pm. Gone are the days I needed to call long distance.

16. You prefer your shrimp with the heads and legs still attached.. it means they're fresh. Mestilah.

17. You never call your parents just to say 'hi'. How bout "Hi, can you send me some cash?"

18. If you don't live at home, when your parents call, they'll ask if you have eaten, even if it's midnight. Haha. Bullseye baby.

19. Your parents tell you to boil herbs and stay inside when you get sick. They also tell you not to eat fried foods or baked goods because they're heaty. They're right!

20. You e-mail your Asian friends at work, even though you only sit 10 feet apart. Have not yet been in such a situation.

21. You always cook too much. Always.

22. You eat every last grain of rice in your bowl, but don't eat the last piece of food on the table. Fuck it, whack only. If you're too slow, it's your loss. Not when I'm eating with girls though. Have to pretend a bit then.

23. You starve yourself before going to all you can eat buffet. Shy.

24. You know someone who can get you a good deal on jewellery, electronics or computers. And almost everything else!

25. You own your own meat cleaver and sharpen it. Haha. Nolah.

26. Your toothpaste tubes are all squeezed paper-thin. Haha. Yeslah.

27. You know why this list consists of only "28" reasons. Prosper easily!

28. You take this message and forward it to all your Asian friends. If you're not Asian, don't fret, no one's perfect.

There are three more indications that you need to add to the 28..

*29 You never forget to take with you all the unused bath and facial tissues when you check out from the hotel because you believe that you have paid for all of it. Nolah, I very paranoid wan. Takut kena apprehend on checking-out. Shy, balls.

*30 You will laugh at yourself when you read all of them.

*31 And you will always be proud because you're Asian.

Righto.. Prophet's birthday tomorrow = No ward rounds.

Out to Bed for a drink.

Hip hip, baby.

Woe

2006-04-09T23:52:00.000+08:00

..is me.

And this is why.

Well, at least I had the satisfaction of munching on the piece of chocolate for five months prior.

But fuck all this AFTA/tax structure cock and bull. I still think it's just a ploy to divert our attention from the petrol hike.

Cibai.

Woe oh woe.

Am done with Ward C6 (Endocrine & Neurology). Am starting with Ward C7 (Nephrology) tomorrow. If your kidneys are fucked, I'm your man.

At least for the next two weeks.

Whoa

2006-03-30T20:33:00.000+08:00

Oh fuck. I had a long, interesting post about what happened today in the neurology ward.

Then I realised I can't post it, as it might get me in hot water. Doctor-patient confidentiality cock.

Fuck lah, wasted twenty minutes of my time. Could have been watching Lost. Episode 17 is out, ya know?

Anyway I had a really good day. Too bad I can't share it with ya. Fuck fuck fuck.

I'm currently in the mood to spend. On gadgets.

I want a new laptop. And I want a PDA phone.

Bloody hell if only money grew on trees.

It's friday tomorrow, yay. Can finally kick back and relax for a bit.

TGIF, babes.. TGIF.

Quickie

2006-03-27T22:18:00.000+08:00

Hello, apa khabar hari ini?

The shit's piled up so high, it's a chore even breathing. It's hectic. It is, really.

Clinicals in Penang is a real shock to my system. One has to study almost every single day in order to keep up. I don't know how I can keep this up, haha.

There are nice doctors in the wards of course, but there are also really fucked up ones. Plus there's even politics to be aware of with the nurses.

I'm constantly overwhelmed. I feel like I have to do three things at once, most times. Bloody fuck I haven't even eaten everything I want to yet, and I've been back three weeks.

Three bloody weeks.

This is me hoping I'm still adjusting, I'm just adjusting, that I'll fall right in sync in no time. Thank whoever is up there I'm living at home; I don't have to wash clean iron cook. If not, how? Die. Die like anjing kurap.

Puki lah. Puki ayam berbulu. Cibai. Fuck wei the timetables are so fucking confusing.

Fuck I'm all hectic. Grammar has gone selamat tinggal.

There's so much shit to wipe clean. One to print, one to read from, sometimes one to watch porn on. Switching between two closely placed mice is very challenging. Coordination, balls. Dysdiadochokinesis. Puki.

Not just two comps, I need two tables. The table in the previous pic was full, and there weren't even any books on it. This is the study table, right opposite the comp table. Stylo mylo, balls.

But it's kinda all worth it.. I think. I hope. In the end, being able to do this with me old mates just takes all the shit outta the day, however crappy it was.

Gotta run. Still have some studying to do before I hit the sack.

I love you all.

Conclusion

2006-02-24T02:30:00.000+08:00

The keyboard is creaking. It's been that long, yeah?

All is set. One paper left. One practical exam left. They're not really that important, as they don't really count for anything, but I still have to pass them. Contradictory, but am lazy to explain, so live with it.

Am flying home for good on the 4th of March. Paper's this Monday, practical's this Wednesday. Saturday, zoom zoom.

Bloody hell has it been almost three years already?

What has happened in the past 2 months or so?

Home was great over Christmas. Saw some people I really wanted to see. Marvin, Mei Yun, Mou Yen, Ben and all the rest. Meeting Andrew at McDonald's Greenlane at 2 in the morning was definitely a highlight. Sorry I was wolfing down my Prosperity Burger and that my hands were oily though, I have an addiction for those little fuckers.

Haha.

Turning 21 at home was great. Thanks for the insane night, guys.

The days just flew by; had to leave just before Chinese New Year, which was a fat bitch.

Went to Amsterdam as soon as I got back to Dublin.

Uh, what happens in Amsterdam stays in Amsterdam.

Got my final results a week or so back. Still can't believe I passed everything. Results this time around were one of the worst ever for the class (let me brag a bit yeah?), so am glad. Very very happy.

So, I'm done with Dublin.

Reading that, it still doesn't really sink in. Packed up my life here into eight boxes and shipped them home a week back. Didn't really sink in then as well.

Maybe it'll only sink in when I step out of the arrival lounge in Penang, when the fuck me it's humid feeling hits me squarely in the balls.

Maybe.

Or maybe it won't. So many people have asked me if I will miss Dublin.

I don't know. I'm no ingrate, but I don't know. I'm thankful for all the things I learnt, and for all she has taught me. I think I've grown loads. I think I'm one step closer to adulthood. I really feel good. It feels like I'm unwrapping Harry Potter 7.

Haha. All that I couldn't leave behind, everything that clung onto.. I can now let go. It feels great. New chapter, bitch.

Right enough with the lame ass sappy bitch crap.

I hope I can resume updating as frequently as I used to. I'd really like to, but time's a real bitch.

Maybe when I get home.

I still can't get used to the whole How do you do? My name is Tan, and I'm a student doctor. Do you mind if I take a look at you?

Here's hoping that it grows on me. Here's hoping that the prefix Dr. will soon be added to Tan and the whole student doctor thing goes.

I have my fingers crossed. So see ya, Dublin. It's been enlightening. I think a farewell pose is in order.

Han, Hari and I at the farewell reception. Apt. Thanks goes to the lovely Sarah for the picture.

Hope to write again soon.

Still Here

2005-11-11T18:43:00.000+08:00

Was on the computer in the lab.. Felt like a Coke, so I rummaged in my bag for a few Euros and walked the three minutes to the cafeteria.

Came back and was suddenly conscious of my leaving my mobile and iPod at the comp; didn't even bother the bring it along with me (didn't forget okay).

Gonna miss that. Definitely won't be able to do that back home. We still have a long way to go, manners-wise.

For example, everyone in the comp lab is quitely doing what they're doing. Everyone apart from these two Malaysians next to me talking FUCKING loudly about airlines. Don't know if they can see what I'm typing or not (the one with the tudung suddenly stopped for a bit).

"Malaysia Airline bagus or Singapore Airline? Tak tahu lah, saya tak suka support Singapore, tapi servis memang better lah. Murah lagi."

Cibai diamlah.

Can't believe it's already the middle of November. There's only one more module left before my finals, one more month or so before I go home for Christmas and the New Year. Usually I don't return this time of year, but I really want to now.

Kinda doesn't make sense, since I finish for good in March, yeah? For good, balls. Woot.

One more module. Not one more module before break, but one more module to round up my pre-clinicals. One more module before pre-clinicals end for good. One more modules before it's hospital full-time (basically lah).

I think I'm gonna inadvertantly kill someone when that comes around. It doesn't feel like I know enough to diagnose anything but.. lessay.. sexual overexertion.. and that also only on male patients.

Sore red penises are easy to spot.

Sorry, am low on sleep. See you again in a few weeks or so yeah. Sorry bout the lack of updates, am debating with myself whether I should shut this down or not. Can't really be bothered anymore to tell ya the truth. Don't really have the time either.

Macam Fawkes

2005-10-26T22:29:00.000+08:00

Hey hey, it's been awhile. Am rusty as heck. Took me a few tries to access Flickr as I haven't in almost.. a month.

Why am I back?

It's a beautiful day, that's why.

It's been a freakishly crazy month. Am just done with CNS, Locomotor, Skin, Haematology, Immunosuppresion and Transplantation. Sat for the paper on Friday and got my results a few minutes ago.

I didn't fail, so it's a beautiful day.

Plus it's gonna be a long weekend. It's a Bank Holiday week so no classes from Friday till Tuesday.

It's a beautiful day.

Topik hari ini. Had a great drinking session a week or so back. Am sharing the love.

Here you go: cha ching cha ching *drumroll* .. Car Bombs!

Not the jihadi kind lah.

Right. First off, the ingredients. You will need Jameson, Baileys and Guinness; and for every soon-to-be-drunk participant, a pint glass and a shot glass. Simple.

Fill the shot glass with half Baileys and half Jameson. Yours won't look as cool as this. This shot glass is special hor.

Pour the Guinness into the pint glass (about a quarter from full) and let it settle.

Now comes the fun part. Drop the shot glass into the pint glass and down it all. You must do it quickly before it all curdles and starts smelling like vomit.

The result is a smooth, almost chocolate milk-like drink with a very strong end to it. The Jameson always comes out last, physics or something, dunno.

End result. Smells like shit. You will pass out after about three or so, I promise you. But the high is fucking good. Terbang. Try it, you won't regret it. Trust me.

Video is here. Screaming gay fuck (Sim) is not included with the experience, you gotta find your own one. Haha.

On another note, the chunk of dark German chocolate has arrived. Still wrapped up and all that, awaiting my return.

Oh it's a beautiful day.

Hiatus

2005-09-20T20:27:00.000+08:00

Lotsa work.

Lots.

I Smell Blood

2005-09-09T10:24:00.000+08:00

These two days have been awesome. Yeah. Awesomeeee, mannn!

Sorry, today is hate-the-American-accent day. More on that later.

As I was saying, these two days have been pretty good to me. Results are out. And with that I can finally slam shut a book that has been annoyingly open for a few months now. Literally and not.

Secondly, I was having problems registering for the new term online. And today, the hitch/glitch magically disappeared. On its own.

So I'm all registered. It doesn't take much to make me happy.

Aweesommmeee, mannnnnn!

Darling neighbour woke me up today. She asked me to please accompany her to Malaysia Hall (sorta like an informal embassy in Dublin) for a meeting with the new students, and as she didn't want to be there alone (she was representing the UCD Malaysian Students Association), she asked me to tag along.

Pretty cool, I thought, as I had nothing better to do anyway. Plus, an opportunity to check out fresh meat. Yummy.

Or so I thought.

Darling neighbour tricked me. She knowingly lied to me. Cibai. She dragged me along to a meeting of new students, alright, but it was a meeting of new MARA (certain government body, sponsors students of a certain race) students.

I was the only Chinese guy in the whole bloody place. It was a fucking nightmare.

I'm no racist. I'm just saying it was weird. It was, you overtly-judgemental fucker.

Some of them stared at me like I was an exhibit in the zoo. Some were trying to figure out whether I was really Chinese. Maybe I was just a very yellow Malay kid. Some tried to be nice, coming up to make small talk and shit like that. Appreciated, guys. And darling neighbour deserted me to go make sandwiches in the kitchen or something.

Bloody hell. Thanks lah, right.

It was fantastic when they started prayers, I assure you. I didn't know what to do. Of course, the respectable thing was to bow my head through the seemingly unending prayer recital, but I have to tell you, I was tempted to cup my hands and join in as well. That, or jump around screaming Merdeka! Merdeka!.

Why? Heck knows.

It was much later when we had to introduce ourselves. When I was doing so, I heard someone whisper in the back: Tulah.. Tak nak percaya. Sudah beritau kat hang, dia bukan Melayu. Nama Cina tu!

Funny.

When the whole thing ended (exhale), I found myself bringing the sandwiches and bihun that the neighbour was slaving away on to UCD for the new students. Different set, this one. The usual, multiracial set.

Meeting freshies is always fun. As always, there will be a few whom you warm to right away, and there will be the fucktards whom you just love to hate.

Sorry. Truth.

The whole accent-hating was brought on by one particular freshie. Obviously put on, poorly pulled off. I so love posers. Fuck.

I'm off, then. A new issue of Time just arrived, haven't gotten around to starting on it yet. Night, awesomeee people.

Cribs

2005-09-07T10:37:00.000+08:00

Hey you, you better be grateful. Have finally relented, due to a mixture of boredom and newfound privacy.

Hi and welcome to a special edition of Cribs. This is my second home away from home, the first being on-campus accommodation in UCD two years ago.

Hallway. Come in, come in. Let's skip the customary pretend shyness, shall we? Put your shoes up, we can't stand it when people leave them on the floor.

This is the cinema room. We like to entertain our guests here, and lounge on the extremely comfortable luxury leather sofas. Loving the Hari Raya colour scheme, I trust? We so love it. They're made from freshly-slaughtered virgin bulls, balls. Movies aren't movies at all without the kickass hundred-inch plasma flat screen, no? I'm sure you notice the hundreds of DVDs on the mantelpiece as well. We're real movie buffs, that we are. Yes, yes.

This is the formal dining quarter. We often have dinner parties of more than ten or so guests. This area also serves as storage space for the vacuum cleaner (you can see it sticking out). Smart usage of space, people. Waste not. The huge trolley on the right (you can see a sandwich maker on it) is our bar. We stock hundreds of different vintages there along with the usual spirits. As you can see, we spoil our guests to no end.

This is where the maid spends most of her time. We have a full-time live-in cook and housekeeper. We just fired her though, as you can see, she hasn't been throwing out the thrash. We'd show you the fridge, but it's empty as of now. Also due to the lazy maid. It was wise to let her go, very wise. Hrmm, yes.

This is where the magic happens. The magic almost always means the latest issue of Esquire and a toilet roll. Ha. Ha. When I'm not resting on the thousand-threadcount sheets, I like to pretend and pore over the numerous books and folders. I do so enjoy the intellectual image. It's hard work pretending, I assure you. The Vitruvian on the wall is authentic, it was a gift from Da Vinci's great-granddaughter. She was one fine piece of ass.

This is the shitter. Notice the unending supply of toilet rolls. The toiletries are not mine. I don't know who they belong to. As I exude insane amounts of machismo (it will blow your mind), I only use a bar of soap. Roar. Roar.

And finally, a tour of our palatial home will not be complete without my place of worship. This is the altar of David the gay squirrel. He's rather famous, I'm sure you've heard of him before. All hail, don't play play. Amen.

I'd like to show you to the garage, where my extensively pimped-out Range Rover, Porsche 911 Carrera GT3 and the 760Li are kept warm. But I uh, can't seem to find the keys right now. Yes, that's it. Can't bloody well seem to locate them buggers. Raincheck, then.

Right; that concludes the tour. I'd say thanks for coming, but I'm rather relieved that you're leaving. Ding ding dinggg.

***
Classes are starting on Tuesday. I actually am looking forward to it. Just want to get it all over with and fly home as soon as I can. The guys are arriving in a few days time. Very gay of me, but I really am looking forward to their arrival. And it's not just because of the fags and food they'll be bringing with them.

I actually miss you guys. Lonely, balls.

Amaleh Kai Fan

2005-09-03T21:24:00.000+08:00

Warning: long and pointless rant ahead.

Oh no. How? What colour? Specs? Interior trim? Beribu-ribu lemon.

Bloody hell this week has been pretty fucked. As I have loads of free time on my hands, my days can be spent going back and forth about the particular matter. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. Try doing that for like a thousand times. It bloody well sucks.

Plus I'm innately impaired when it comes to making decisions. Especially decisions that are (relatively) big. I think I have a medical condition. Chaocibaicannotdeciditis. My sister is starting to get seriously annoyed with my calling home.

So many decisions, and no on-site experience to facilitate them! Bloody hell it's almost impossible I tell you. Plus due to my chaocibaicannotdeciditis, I am never really happy with what I decide. I'll think about the two options so hard i'll wring all desirability out of them. Get what I mean? In the end, it's always me picking the option that sucks less, not the option that I want more.

And there's a huge difference in the two.

Problem number one. I'm never satisfied. I always want the paling canggih, if not, boh song. damn difficult leh like that. Life is very nearly impossible, balls. So, there are two options: one is all wheel drive, mated to a tiptronic, and the other is front wheel drive, mated to a continuously variable transmission (CVT).

All wheel drive of course more canggih lah when you zoom zoom vroom vroom super gila babi, but the downside is that it's only available in tiptronic, they don't bring in the manual. Tiptronic sucks. Saps power, slower 0-100 time, also there's a noticeable delay in kickdown. And the tech is bloody old. But got all wheel drive! That means can uhhhhhhhhhh sop stim even in the rain, balls.

Okay, option two. Front wheel drive, CVT. Front wheel has always lost out to all wheel and rear wheel (as it technically harder to drive). But front wheel is more fun to drive, as the responses when you push hard are natural, as opposed to the others. It's also more powerful in a straight line, as pulling is always easier than pushing.

Didn't you pay attention in physics?

And CVT is bloody fabulous compared to tiptronic. New tech, super smooth power delivery, dual clutch plates (you won't feel the shifts at all) and seven drive ratios equals performance identical to a manual transmission. And real-world identical, not brochure salescrap identical.

The latter feels more nimble and quick too, but if you want to take a corner at 100km/h, the all wheel will definitely exit the corner in front.

Which makes me think: how often will I go into a corner at 100km/h? Or drive aggresively in the wet (another selling point for the all wheel)? I'd like to think often, but realistically, very rarely lah. Bloody hell if it's raining, it's instinctual to drive like a girl. Ho ho. I'm sure most female readers would have given up reading this post by this point.

But but but but.. less bragging rights wor! Cause don't have shiny badge saying it's all wheel drive! Fuck lah. I promise not to fall into the kiasu crowd and stick fake badges on. In an ideal world, there'd be an all wheel drive manual, and that'd be the one I took. But there's no such thing so CVT and front wheel it is.

Please perform like a dream so I won't regret it, okay or not? Thanks ah..

Sorry if you were one who was bombarded with black/grey questions over the week. Final final final decision.. black. And no, am not changing my mind anymore.

And those are only two of the many decisions. Call me crazy but stuff like tint, petrol, engine oil and even floor mats are decisions to me. Respectively, efficiency/colour, octane rating, synthetic vs. mineral, rubber vs. fabric.

Tint. V-Kool's the industry leader, at least in Malaysia. But the guy I trust (cannot simply tint anywhere leh) has stopped selling V-Kool. Too many imitations in the market, even if he were honest his supplier might fuck him over. So, no V-Kool.

He recommends Ultra Cool. Maleh sounds like Ultraman to me. No info whatsoever online, scary shit balls. He says it's straight out of the US and he's charging a V-Kool equivalent price. Skeptical. I'm not there to touch/look/feel/lick, how to decide? It's very important to see what colour the windows are when the film is applied. What if I go home and end up with purple windows?

Cibai sungguh.

Bloody hell I need to be home in times like these.

Tourism Dublin

2005-09-02T00:17:00.000+08:00

This is for you, Yu Jian. Generally Dublin is a shithole, but hope it helps somewhat.

Welcome to Grafton Street, Dublin's half-arsed answer to Rodeo Drive. It's a convenient branching-off point to the other sites, as it runs pretty much through the centre of Dublin City. The picture is of the beginning of the street. Behind it lies..

St. Stephen's Green park. The usual park-in-the-city you find everywhere in the UK and Europe. It's pretty nice. If you uh, like flowers and stuff like that. The UCD Medical Faculty is just right before the park, next to the National Concert Hall. If you like concrete building blocks, go look see.

Walking along Grafton Street.. Most of the shops are the same as on Oxford Street in London, except for a few touristy gift shops (good for souvenirs). Check out Brown Thomas if you're a brand snob.

St. Patrick's Cathedral. Only a twenty minute walk from Grafton. I don't know if you like churches and stuff, but you should check this place out. Named after the guy who used the shamrock to explain the Holy Trinity (they needed a leaf to understand God). He supposedly chased away all the snakes from Ireland as well. Yeah, whatever.

Right smack in the middle of Grafton Street you'll find Trinity College. The have a showcase of the oldest book in the world (The Book Of Kells) and it's a pretty cool campus. Aesthetically, that is. UCD kicks their ass without breaking a sweat.

Walk all the way down Grafton and you'll reach the O'Connell Bridge. It separates South Dublin (where you were) and North Dublin (where you will be if you cross the bridge). The south is generally regarded as the posh side and the north is where all the knackers are. East side west side baby, bang bang. Once over the bridge, Grafton Street continues on as O'Connell Street. More shopping and stuff. There too you will find the Dublin Spire, a pointless jarum sticking into the sky, of which the Dubliners are really proud of. Bodohnya, tak pernah tengok Petronas.

And now, my favourite place. The Guinness Distillery. It's a must, don't miss visiting the place. Fantastic; entrance fee includes a complimentary pint of freshly-brewed Guinness in the uber cool Sky Bar. There's more to see here than gay quotes on the wall, I assure you.

If the sea is your thing, Dun Laoghire (pronounced done leary) is only a bus ride away from Dublin City. Port town. Nothing really much to see here, but if you must..

I don't know if you plan to see only the city, but if you do decide to explore, you should check of the Cliffs Of Moher in Clare. Really cool place, and the only place worth leaving the comforts of the city for. They're about three hours away by car.

They're really awe-inspiring. Makes your balls shrink, no kidding. One word.. huge. No, make that two words.. really huge.

In the city, your best bet would be to go on the hop-on/hop-off bus tours. They bring you almost everywhere worth visiting, pretty good value as well. Remember to carry student identification as student discounts can be had almost everywhere.

And of course, Ireland isn't really Ireland without the pubs. Off Grafton Street is the infamous Temple Bar, a stretch of nothing but grog and occasional violence. Must see.

Give me a call when you're here, if I'm not stuck in some hospital somewhere I'll definitely meet up and try to layan you and your friends, heh.

Edisi Istimewa Merdeka

2005-08-31T07:48:00.000+08:00

Sekiranya anda merupakan pengikut setia Ayah Saya Petani, anda tentu tahu saya hanya berblog dalam Bahasa Malaysia setelah habis meziarahi kasino. Saya berasa sedikit sakit hati kerana saya akan memutuskan jaringan tradisi tersebut pada hari ini.

Untuk maklumam semua, saya tidak berjudi hari ini. Tak tipu.

Hari ini merupakan hari yang amat istimewa. Hari yang gemilang, hari yang memang bermakna bagi semua insan yang melafazkan diri anak Malaysia. Negaraku yang tercinta dilahirkan pada tarikh ini, tepat empat puluh lapan tahun yang lalu.

Dan oleh sebab hari yang bersejarah ini, ramai blogger Malaysia bersetuju untuk berblog dalam Bahasa Malaysia sebagai suatu lafaz cinta yang kecil.

Semua yang hendak saya katakan tentang negaraku yang tercinta sempena hari bersejarah ini telah saya lakukan dalam post Merdeka! beberapa hari yang lalu. Tentunya, cinta yang dipegangku akan negara tersayang tidak dapat diwakili tepat oleh beberapa perenggan yang ditaip di laman Web.

Sekiranya anda berasa patriotik, saya menggalakkan anda melawati beberapa laman Web yang pada pendapat saya, sememangnya menyampaikan suatu representasi yang tepat akan Malaysia pada hari kemerdekaanya: Minishorts.net dan Merdeka Blogger Project.

Terima kasih, Malaysia. Kamu telah membimbing dan memegang tangan yang ramai tanpa penat lelah. Kamu telah mengkurniakan suatu hadiah kepada jiwa semua yang memanggilmu Negaraku. Dan kami sememangnya bersyukur.

Selamat Hari Merdeka.

Brain Drain

2005-08-30T21:52:00.000+08:00

Apa khabar, it's been awhile, hasn't it?

Was forced to turn on word verification for the comments as asswipe spammers have been doing what they do best. Sorry for the kemahuanan.

I don't mean to be superstitious, but since I've moved, all inspiration for a post eludes me.

Oh no.

How?

Analogy

2005-08-26T22:14:00.000+08:00

Today is a good day. I'm the happiest guy alive today. I had to tie myself down to my chair to post, I was jumping around way too much all morning. Happy ma. Happy! I'm so happy today! I hope you get the picture; I'm trying to tell you how happy I am.

And it's all thanks of a piece of chocolate.

A little background to facilitate your understanding of my chocolate plight.

I have always been a fan of chocolate. A huge fan. I have subscriptions to many chocolate magazines back home and even here in Dublin. Whenever the guys all meet up, we don't talk cock, we talk choc.

I have never really had a piece of chocolate to call my own. I have always had to share with either my dad or my sister. My mom's not really a chocolate person, you see, so she doesn't really give a shit.

I messed up a piece of my dad's chocolate a few years back. And I mean messed up. I accidentally sat on it, stepped on it, crushed it. It was fucked, basically. Even after a visit to the chocolatier, it wasn't ever the same. It didn't taste right, it made funny noises when you tried to eat it.

We have lived with the fucked piece of chocolate for years now, as we couldn't find someone stupid enough to unload it on.

Over the summer though, the aforementioned piece of chocolate started giving real problems. It was insane, really. You couldn't even bring the piece of chocolate close to your mouth, it was that serious.

That prompted my dad to consider getting a new piece of chocolate. And being the resident chocolate fanatic of the family, he naturally discussed it with me.

It started out as careless banter, and knowing my dad, I was doubtful whether he would really spring on a fresh chunk of chocolate. But we talked about it nonetheless, mostly as an excuse to bond over guy stuff. Any nothing's more manly than chocolate, I tell you.

The discussion picked up momentum about two weeks ago, when even my mom was bitching at my dad to get some fresh chocolate. She complained that we don't have enough chocolate to go around in the house, and she sure as hell was tired of sharing, especially with me, as my chocolate eating habits were rather rough, gruff and disgusting.

So, the initial plan was to get Japanese chocolate. Dependable, easily maintained. The trade-off was that it lacked any real flavour, it hadn't any substantial flair. But that didn't matter. Practicality, my good man. I was to share the piece of Japanese chocolate with my sister.

It was a pretty good deal, and not earning any money myself, I couldn't ask for more (nor did I dare to). If you didn't know, the farmer is a complete psychopath. On a good day.

So it was a done deal. Japanese chocolate it was to be.

But the deal did not close, it did not materialise. My dad called to tell me that it could wait, and the best thing was to delay the purchase till I went back home next year.

I wasn't disappointed in the least, as I knew something like that was bound to happen. The farmer's a real hot hot chicken shit character, a trait which unfortunately passed on to me by way of genomic imprint. Cibai DNA.

So all talk of chocolate ceased. At least for a few days.

A few days later the farmer called to talk cock. I was rather surprised as talking cock was not one of his regular indulgences, especially with me. We were talking about chocolate, as it was the topic of the moment.

The conversation naturally veered to me salivating over the phone about my favourite chocolate, my dream chocolate. German, baby. It was just a dream, definitely, as it was not a realisitic investment. Especially at my age. I told him I would spring for it with my first chunky paycheck.

The offhanded suggestion on my part turned out to produce some effect on the farmer. Maybe he could hear the desperation in my voice, maybe he could sense the incessant longing in my tone. Whatever it was, it doesn't matter. What matters is that it worked somehow.

He called almost every day, asking for more information about the particular piece of chocolate I was interested in. Specific details, down to how large the chocolate was, what was the percentage of cocoa, etc. He actually showed some interest, which was surprising.

Then came a commitment on his part. He talked it over with my mom, and he said there was a possibility of him getting me that particular piece of chocolate. It would require some hard work on my part, getting the proper grades and all that jazz.

I was surprised. I'm sure there was some joy intermingled with the surprise I felt, but knowing the farmer, I didn't put too much stock on his words. I would have to wait and see, I thought.

Fast forward to a few hours ago. I was awakened by a phone call from the farmer. He sounded really excited. He was at the chocolatier. He just taste-tested the particular piece of chocolate I was cumming all over over carpet about.

He said it was really something. Real German chocolate, balls. Smooth, with a kick, not too sweet either. Once you bite, you can't turn back. Ho ho ho. I knew I had the farmer by the balls.

He asked me really weird questions, specific questions like what colour did I want it in, what packaging I want it to be wrapped in, and lots more. Groggy with sleep, I just played along, as I know he's as screwed in the head as I am (after all, he did pass it on to me).

"Why the questions, farmer?"

"My friend who's in the chocolate business said that in a month of two, all imported chocolates will increase in price. Something to do with the imminent Imported Chocolates Act. So I'm buying you the piece of chocolate now. It's gonna be all yours, so you better take care of it. There's also a waiting list for the chocolate, so the timing is just right."

I was dumbfounded, balls. My mind ran wild.

"Are you serious? For real? Why are you being so nice to me? Are you afraid I'm going to go mad from all the studying?"

"Take it as a form of motivation. Study hard, knowing that this piece of chocolate will be waiting for you when you return."

"Waa? A bribe ah? I'm not seven anymore, you know? You can't buy me a Lego set and expect me to be all different after that."

"Oh shut up and be grateful."

"Uh. Thanks. Really. Thank you very much."

And that concludes my chocolate story, ladies and gentlemen. I'm still a little fuzzy from all the excitement.

Bloody hell I'm so fucking happy. Even Jessica Alba, naked and willing can't top this. I'm so happy. It's a beautiful day. Fuck yeah. Thanks, farmer.

Merdeka!

2005-08-23T22:06:00.000+08:00

"Tanggal tiga puluh satu, bulan lapan, lima puluh tujuh.." In a week of so, Malaysia will turn 48.

Merdeka Day has always been fun. It meant going out late to the padang to watch fireworks back home. It meant the insane traffic jam to get there. It meant joining hundreds, thousands of others jumping up and down, screaming Merdeka! Merdeka! at the top of our lungs.

I'm sure most of us jumped and screamed just for the heck of it. Hey, when you're young, being able to jump and scream in public is quite syok.

Merdeka Day meant staying overnight in school, polishing our (music) instruments. It meant waking to wash up in the school toilet at 4a.m. It meant Merdeka Day parade, a fantastic affair where hot Red Crescent chicks would march by your side in case you collapsed. You'd be tempted to faint, trust me, you would.

I can still remember remember the cold, I can still smell the Brasso. The sights and sounds are still vividly imprinted.

Getting slightly lame. Sorry. Better check myself.

I guess this post was provoked by something I read online. Ungrateful Malaysians giving stick, taking the piss outta the country.

I can't understand why some people hate Malaysia so much, I really can't. Don't you feel blessed in the tiniest way at all? Lucky, maybe just a little bit? I'd even take indifference in the place of spite.

Sit down and think hard. Has Malaysia given you nothing at all?

We grew up in relative peace and prosperity. I'm not going to launch into a be-grateful-you're-not-in-Gaza tirade, that's just unrealistic; but think about it.

We were never persecuted socially. Really. The whole education quota/Bumi discount policy will immediately spring to mind here. But really, what do you think can be done? We're barely fifty years old, radical changes (if they ever do take place) take time. What do you think is ideal? All the pro-Bumi benefits retracted suddenly?

That'll be a sight. Bid farewell to the steady racial/political climate that we've worked so hard to attain.

Education. You always hear of the poor little guy who gets shat on. He got thirty A1's and yet there's no placement anywhere for him. Follow up, please do. It always gets resolved. It might take an appeal to some political party and a guest appearance in a local newspaper, but it always gets resolved.

By the way, getting thousands of As doesn't really mean shit anyway. So you can memorise a textbook. Woohoo. No one owes you shit. And if you think someone owes you shit, you're likely not going to get any shit at all.

And do you seriously know of anyone who's stuck after high school? Like really stuck, and forced to rummage through the refuse to stay alive?

It doesn't happen. It doesn't.

And so what if things work a little different?

People complain about the police. You bitch about how they're soft. I don't think you'd have the same opinion if you're slapped with a RM350 fine everytime you fart at the wrong place. What's wrong with a chance to talk your way out of it? I personally think it's cool that you can talk shit to the policeman who stopped you for being on the phone while driving.

"Tolonglah tuan, saya pelajar, tak ada duit bayar lah".

It's just a minor offence, so what if he lets you off? It's not like you can bargain with him if you've just committed murder. We're alright when it counts, and that's what counts.

You say "Screw Malaysia, I'm leaving for country X". That's all really nice, but where do you think you made the money to buy for the plane ticket to wherever you're going? To settle down in the random country you picked?

And where do you think you picked up the education to be financially/socially-aware enough to mess with the idea of emigration?

I'm not judging anyone, nor am I condemning Malaysians who've left for somewhere else. There are many scenarios and many circumstances that can't be solved by one's love of one's country, that I'm not stupid enough to ignore.

I'm just talking about those type of people. You know? Ignorant fucks who know fuck all but enjoy condemning Malaysia just for the sake of it.

We're still a young country, and we're still weeding out the fuckheads. So if you want to leave, leave I say. We won't have you anyway.

What's wrong with a bit of colour? It might take hours to get anything done in a government office. But you don't see people sitting on their asses and doing nothing right? People are actually working, documents are actually being printed.

It just takes a long time cause the system is fucked, it's old. Are you doing anything about it? Are you helping? If not, shut the fuck up, sit down and wait your turn.

Maybe it's just the particular mood I'm in, but I really don't think these minor bumps are a problem at all. They are part and parcel of who Malaysia is, at least right now. Take away any of her eccentricities and you're left with a dark, dull place.

Do you get what I mean? I don't mind the minor annoyances. It's fine if everything doesn't work perfectly, clockwork-like. It's fine that the streets are somewhat dirty. If everything was so perfect, it wouldn't be a nation, it'd be a colourless, lifeless anthill. We have muhibbah, majmuk, toleransi, perpaduan. You think it's everywhere? You think it's so easy to find?

Spend some years of your life far away from home, in a totally alien culture, and see if you still feel the same way.

Nothing will change if we keep leaving. It's not that simple, I know. It's not always easy back home. I didn't even apply for placement in a local university, it just wasn't a viable/realistic option.

There's the issue of better recognition of degrees attained overseas. As with work, there's better opportunity, better pay, whatnot. Many are forced to leave the country to pursue what can't be pursued at home.

I don't think that even I, after professing my love for my country in this post, will work in Malaysia right after I graduate. Hypocrisy? I don't know. I love my country, but yet, if I can make loads and loads more somewhere else, how? Of course, right now I truly believe that one day I'll come home. But you never know what's going to happen.

What to do? I don't know. I don't hold the answers. Bloody hell I've gone on and on for so long I'm slightly confused already.

Bottomline is, happy 48th, Malaysia. You're like family. Even if your dad is quite the fuck, you can't help but love him, right?

And fuck it if you don't agree with me, it doesn't bother me none. If I want to wave the Jalur Gemilang while screaming Malaysia Boleh! at the top of my voice, that's my business, and I'll do as I please.

And it's not just for the heck of it either, I think the screaming has finally been infused with some meaning. This is me hoping the meaning gains strength over the years.

Happy Merdeka, people.

Fresh Kicks

2005-08-19T03:05:00.000+08:00

The day has been good.

So it's finally over. The final paper turned out pretty okay, so all's well. I think. Just gotta cross me fingers and wait for the results. Please, Aslan, be kind.

Last night's slumber was peppered with freaky interruptions. Kept waking up every few hours or so, pharmacological terms running wild in my head. Didn't feel right to be sleeping so much, remnants of exam stress I guess. It's over dammit, now get the fuck outta my head.

Anyway.

Got myself some new kicks. Walking by Foot Locker earlier proved to be far too tempting. Now there's a lubang in my saku.

That said, I have always had a thing for white sneakers.

Bought a pair of K.Swiss Tongue Twisters when I first got here. It's been two years or so. They have served me well. Fare thee well, guys. Thanks for keeping me safe and warm.

And why, hello to my new Air Force 2s! How do you do?

It wasn't a premeditated decision, getting the Nikes. The Foot Locker here carries special 35th-anniversary-edition Superstars, and have always thought I'd get them eventually to replace the old sneakers. And since giving away my old Superstars, I've kinda missed them.

But Aisyah said the AF2s look better. Had to listen, no choice, lady ma.

Getting new kicks wasn't the ultimate highlight of the day.

It was this.

While I was paying for the shoes at the counter, the salesgirl said I was her easiest customer of the day, so she slipped me a tub of polish (waterproofs and protects, she said) for free. Told me not to tell anyone. Very Mission Impossible. That's €10 outta the sky, balls. Now I can finally pay for a new Porsche. Ho ho ho.

It's the first time anyone have had anything positive to say about my manners/attitude. I like the salesgirl. Too bad she's a bit fat. Boing boing.

Right, so maybe posting about new shoes is not very macho, but I more than make up for it with my excessive use of profanities, right?

Nabeh puki tiau.

Am still hung over. Head pain, head pain.

I Like It Rough

2005-08-17T13:28:00.000+08:00

Weeks of toil, thinking and ting tong tiang will soon come to an end. I'm leaving for my final paper in a few minutes. And after, I will be bursting out. Once more. I really hope it's the end I ever see of these papers.

The first and second paper went far better than I could ever have dared hope. So all is well. I think. Unless I'm really fucking inept at gauging circumstance.

The next paper is one which everyone brushes off as nonsense. Nonsensically easy, that is; because most people I know passed it. It's only a small itch to most of my other classmates. One which they scratched rather successfully but turned out to be the equivalent of chicken pox for me. Cibai.

But I've always found it to be the toughest section. Mental block? Underlying psychological reasons? Has it anything to do with the fact that I played with dolls growing up? Fuck.

In my defense, I'd like to think I'm not stupid. It's just that my fantastic mind works in ways markedly different from the average dumbass medical student. That means all you who passed, bitches.

Ah. The joy of subconscious rage release. Ho ho ho.

But fuck all that, I'm just gonna shower, get dressed and go do it. Fuck everything else. If all fails, let's just hope the first two papers will compensate for this one. Tolonglah, puki ayam.

Have kinda lost all drive to slog anymore. Am drained, saturated. Spent mostly the entire night blasting Disturbed (Fear is the song of the moment, go listen) on the iPod and jumping up and down in my living room, kicking my sofa from time to time.

The curtains were closed, of course.

Ah, they joy of closure. It will all be over the next time I log on to check my mail.

Will be reacquainted with my very best friend, Mr. Fridgepack, after one whole month of unavoidable detoxification. Oh how I look forward to violating your small tinny hole of a mouth once again.

I promise I will go through the whole of you before I depart for the post-exam party in the pub. That way, I will be so smashed I wouldn't need to spend much more in there. I'm saving the money for new sneakers and earphones, see.

So Mr. Fridgepack, welcome me with open arms. Look not away, but accept me into your cool embrace. I know I have forsaken you, but it could not be helped. Please understand. If I don't do well, pass, graduate and start making money (and uh, yeah, help a few people along the way, that too), it will be the last I ever see of you. How will I afford you then?

I know how you like it; I'm not going to be gentle this time.

I won't stop till I see blood, baby.

Kopi!

2005-08-14T14:58:00.000+08:00

Wah, this post will have a lot of picture, okay?

I will show you how is the perfect start to the day. The food part lah. I show you how to make the best sandwich in the world! You will feel like you are in coffee shop in Penang! If the coffee shop got make sandwich lah, okay?

First you must have the bak. Meat lah. I like to use fish and bacon. Throw both into oven for thirty minutes at two hundred degrees. They will both come out damn crispy, okay? Damn nice man when the bacon and the fish is crispy!

While you wait for the meat in the oven, don't waste time! Got other things to do! Like fry egg. Must fry mata kerbau style. Pan must be very hot, so the bottom of the egg is brown before the yolk is cooked! Yolk cannot be cooked, okay? If not everything spoil. Must be wet wet. Mmm.. Wet wet.

Next, toast two slice of bread. If toast bread also you need me to teach you, you are stupid. Don't try to cook, later you set yourself on kebakaran.

Next, get ready the mayonnaise and cheese. Must use normal mayonnaise, no pondan light/low fat bullshit. Cheese is up to you what you want to use, but I like the edam cheese. Must be elitist, okay? If chances are people you see on Penang Road don't know how to pronounce the name, you are elitist! Congratulations!

Okay, sapu both slices of bread with a lot of mayonnaise. A lot, okay?

Then put cheese on top. Two slices for two slices ma.

The meat will usually be ready by now. If not, it means that you work too fast. Must slow down next time, okay? Put the bacon on one slice of the bread.

Then put the fish on top. If you put the fish first, the bacon will fall off the fish. Because the fish is not flat, okay?

Wah! Almost ready! Now put the egg on top! Must be careful, later the egg pecah. Then all wasted. Use spatula to pick up the egg lah, don't be lazy.

Cover lah, okay?

Now for the high class feeling and style, you must cut the sandwich! I like to cut diagonal, cause I feel that one more class.

Wah! Look at it! So nice! This is the best sandwich in the world. See the yolk spill everywhere, so perfect! Don't say no ah. Very nice, okay? Too bad you cannot taste it. I use special sauce some more. So special I cannot tell you what it is. Sorry lah.

For the coffee shop feeling I promise just now, go and buy this one. Nanyang Roasted White Coffee! It is the best kopi-O out there. Kopi-O means no milk lah. This one is special because got that kao kao taste. Kao is thick lah.

See? The coffee so kao! So black! Cannot put too much water, okay? Half cup is enough. I tell you, the coffee so kao it make your heart go pom pom pom. So much blood flow and the blood flow so fast, your ku ku ciau also can khi ngek. That is what you call kopi-O KAO man! If you don't have ku ku ciau, I think you will just dizzy lah, sorry.

Of course, not really coffee shop without the hoon kee. For best result, put one leg on the chair when you smoking, okay?

I hope this is useful to you!

Cold Water

2005-08-14T08:26:00.000+08:00

Lemmaleh I have not any cold water from the kitchen tap.

There's plenty when the arm the swung to red, but hit the blue and not a drop flows. Bloody hell. I've always felt that warm water from tap is helluva dirty. I always imagine loads of dissolved shit in it. Is it just me, or are you the same?

So how?

The rice cooker is missing out on its monthy washing. And I have to wash my cups in the toilet sink. And also fill my boiler in the toilet sink. Bloody hell.

I've checked the valves in the kitchen, and they're all open. It can't be due to an obstruction, can it? What could possible block it till there's nary a drop?

I'm very annoyed.

On another note, the first paper went rather well. Which makes me worry, will the other papers be just as good? Or are they just fucking around with my head; letting the first one lull me into a false sense of security, and shooting me dead with the next papers?

Damn, balls. Damn it.

Watching the Narnia trailer took me back. Am re-reading the chronicles of C.S. Lewis. The second time round, it's fantastic what you pick up; now that you're no longer a dumb kid. Read it, and see if you can spot the various subtle analogies to theology, politics and whatnot.

It's uber coolness. It's like christmas all over again.

Hey

2005-08-12T13:40:00.000+08:00

I'm sure my words no longer hold any meaning for you. But I really hope that one day, we'll be able to share a shred of normalcy once again.

Is that a too selfish a request?

Have grown a bit, methinks. I know more now than I did then. I have to right my wrongs. Can I at least have that, please?

Righto, off to my first paper then.

Please let it be a good one.

It's Here

2005-08-12T03:41:00.000+08:00

My new toy has arrived. Am thankful for the few minutes of blissful distraction.

Arrived this afternoon. For once, was not grumpy when woken up by a call. Don't you just love brown boxes? Don't you just love mail? Parcels? Wowie.

Careful extraction now.. Be careful now..

And now it sits majestically in its snug dock, begging to be heard. Caressed. Licked even.

Am satisfied with everything except one. The stock standard earphones are kinda shit. Want to lay down for a pair of white in-ears, but don't think they're worth the dough they demand.

Annoyance

2005-08-11T15:28:00.000+08:00

This is the scene outside my bedroom window. Notice the guy in yellow. I fucking hate him. Every morning, as soon as I lay down on my bed, he starts work. His work involves wielding a jackhammer. Which involves generating a lot of noise. Which forces me to close my window in order to fall asleep. Which causes me to wake up a few hours prematurely to open the window as it gets too stuffy.

I know you're just doing your job, man in yellow. But that still does not stop me from hating you. Why does it take you so long for you to finish? You've been fucking jackhammering for four days now. I hope you forget your pondan reflective safety vest and get run over by the garbage truck.

My first paper is tomorrow. Fuck.

David

2005-08-11T14:26:00.000+08:00

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, a squirrel came to be. The mother wanted to name him Nutty, but upon the all-powerful, ever-encompassing word of the father, it was decided that he would be called David.

Thus, began the chronicles of David the squirrel of Nutland. Chit chit. David grew up in an ordinary squirrel home, where females were of insignificant value. A female squirrel was worth less than a quarter of a nut. A quarter of a peanut, to be precise.

The males squirrels spent most of their time fucking around whilst the females busied themselves with work. Gathering nuts, shelling nuts, storing nuts. And when I said fucking around, I meant fucking around. Leisure equated to Chit Fuck Spas, quality, swanky establishments where the males would play with each other.

Literally play with each other.

Female squirrels were only violated when there was need to further the family line. Sexual intercourse as a recreational activity meant male squirrels fucking male squirrels. Odd as it might seem, it had been such since anyone could remember.

Nutland was a place filled with nuts. Chestnuts, hazelnuts, peanuts. But the most coveted of all nuts was the Golden Coconut. The Golden Coconut was the stuff of legend. Its existence could not be confirmed, as the last time any squirrel came face to face with it was almost three years ago. Which is fucking long in squirrel years.

Yet, every squirrel in Nutland dreamt of the Golden Coconut. It was rumoured that the Golden Coconut would bring balance to Nutland. How? There were many different postulations.

The fat squirrels theorised that it would bestow upon its owner an inexhaustible supply of nuts. And not just coconuts. Any kind of nut!

The right-winged squirrels pressed that the owner of the Golden Coconut would be recognised as rightful ruler of Nutland, which was leaderless as long as anyone could remember. He would be crowned the King Chit, with hundreds of squirrels at his beck and call.

The radical squirrels said to anyone who would listen that it would restore normalcy to the sexes. With the finding of the Golden Coconut, females would finally garner a place in squirrel social hierarchy. And the male squirrels would actually want to screw the females. For leisure! As would be expected, this unorthodox theory was not very popular.

Growing up, David always questioned his sexuality. Although he was content spending his days in the various Chit Fuck Spas, deep down he felt uneasy. Queasy almost. He longed for something he did not know. Something he did not dare ask anybody.

In Nutland, a male squirrel with questions, an uncertain male squirrel was the bane of society. Male squirrels lacking conviction would be.. would be.. It is too awful to say. Awful, awful.

David wondered (silently to himself, of course). How could living in such a society be normal? Where you can't even ask questions? Where recreation meant a dark, black hole? Where your mother meant less to you than half a peanut?

The questions gnawed at him. It ate David up, slowly but surely. His threshold was fast approaching. He was soon feeling as if he would burst.

One fine morning, he got up from his comfortable crushed-peanut-shell bed, brimming with confidence, full of conviction.

He was going to find the Golden Coconut, and pray that it did what the radical squirrels said it did. Nothing would stand in his way.

to be continued..

Sia, Sial!

2005-08-09T08:18:00.000+08:00

Short post.

Am supposed to be studying.

Just spent the last four hours reading kennysia.com. Damn he's entertaining.

If you haven't been, go. Really.

Am supposed to be studying.

Nabeh. Gotta go back to my books.

What's the fucking difference between bronchitis and bronchiolitis?

I just don't get it.

Am frustrated. Lemma puki chao cibai.

Will study. Now.

Sunday

2005-08-08T04:13:00.000+08:00

I used to wake up happy on Sundays.

Apt. The seventh day, the day of rest, the number of perfection, the Lord's day. Wowie.

When I was a kid, I'd automatically wake in time for the cartoon marathons. There'd be roti canai on the table, perfectly complemented by spicy-sour meena kari. The farmer's Sunday ritual involved driving to the roti canai van-stall near Lam Wah Ee hospital to get breakfast for us all.

That has stopped. A long time ago.

I don't know what happened to the roti canai van-stall. Since the autopont came to be, they vanished. Together with the best roti canai on the island. And its perfect complement, spicy-sour meena kari.

When I got a little older, I'd wake up, looking forward to church. All scrubbed and in my Sunday best, I'd go downstairs to wait for Uncle Eddie and Aunty Mei. We'd always go somewhere new for lunch after. It's a wonder we never ran outta new places to go to.

I haven't seen Uncle Eddie and Aunty Mei in years.

What do I have to look forward to now? The only plus of it being a Sunday is that the rubbish truck doesn't come by and make a racket, so I can stay asleep for a few hours more.

Sad.

I was rudely awakened today, even minus the rubbish truck. Fucked up dream. Same dream. Stress, balls.

Dreams are shit. If they are fantastic, you wake, hopeful, searching. If they suck, you wake, gloomy, fucked.

I used to be a believer. A very staunch one at that. Am slipping, slowly but surely. I wonder, how can you be happy with one, just one? Nicer ones appear all the time, tempting you, pulling you down. I'd ponder more, if there was even one right now, but there's none. Haha.

I wonder, how come that question has never surfaced before?

iPods & Jello

2005-08-06T03:22:00.000+08:00

I'm bored to death.

Half an hour ago, I was feeling rather optimistic about the whole resit affair. It's all good. It can be done. No worries.

Then ten minutes ago, I felt a twinge of panic. A twinge, but it was there nonetheless. How can I possible remember all this shit? In case you didn't know, there's quite a lot of shit. Loads of shit.

Fickle.

I was surfing Apple last night. I discovered students were entitled to educational discounts off Apple goods. I could save €10 on the new iPod, €5 on the vinyl case and €6 on the dock. That's €21 in total savings, balls. In Cina logic, it would be unwise not to buy. Plus there was free shipping. And free laser engraving. Whoah.

Bloody hell this deal was tailor made for chinamen like me. Can you spell the words impulse buy?

So I jumped on the iPod bandwagon. I will be joining millions on the street who walk by each other with nary a nod or a hello. With white earphones sticking out of my.. um.. ears.

It arrives in a few days' time. 20 gigs of music with.. wait for it.. a colour display! COLOUR WOR!

I engraved life is shite. cope. listen. on the back. Smart, huh? Thank you, thank you. I wanted life is shit, but apparently you can't engrave naughty words. Adding the e makes it alright, in case you didn't know.

Anyway.

Larry's birthday is days away. I still remember last year's celebs. We were drinking warm (not by choice, we ran outta ice) black label by the pool downstairs his place after a great barbecue. Too bad there won't be a repeat this year.

Have a good one in Dundee, bro. You're an adult now. No more 'weed gives me jello legs' bullshit. Haha. Jello legs.

Funny.

Shite

2005-08-04T04:04:00.000+08:00

Shit is raining down in the truckloads today.

Broadband's fucked. It couldn't connect at all yesterday, and the connection is fucking erratic today. Online. Offline. Online. Offline.

Fuck.

Cable is fucked as well. All the sixteen channels are gone. Normally, I wouldn't complain, as I don't watch that much television to begin with. But it's proven to be a vital source of noise in these days of insane quiet.

The house is so fucking silent I can hear the clock ticking. Ominously, almost. It's counting down.. Tick. Tick. Tick.

If my life was all cartoony and animated, I'm sure you'd be able to hear the crickets by now.

Fuck.

I also accidentally deleted my entire phonebook. Gone. Gone from my mobile, my Palm, my PowerBook. There's no way for me to salvage anything. Anything at all.

I've lost everything. The next time you call, I'll most probably ask who you are. Don't hold it against me. Shit.

Oh shitty day. Oh shitty day.

No Idea

2005-08-02T05:39:00.000+08:00

..as to what the title should be, that is.

D-day is fast approaching. Funnily enough, the train seems to be losing steam when it desperately needs to be picking up speed. Oh damn.

Head was saturated with shite pharmacological terms yesterday. I swear, one more fucking drug and I would've gone pop. The neighbour suggested we go watch Charlie in his chocolate factory, and I gratefully agreed.

The book was one of my favourites growing up. The Oompa Loompas disturbed me then, and they still do now. I thought it was a fantastic feel good movie. Depp is a genius, and so is Burton.

I found Veruca Salt to be quite attractive. Fuck. Is paedophilia going to be my new thing?

Anyhow, the neighbour invited me over for soup afterwards. She's scaring me. I think she's so stressed with the papers, she's on the verge of insanity. Imagine, she'd even hang out with me to escape the books.

Worrisome. Very.

The tom yam-bunjut concoction was fantastic. Very good shit.

Why a clean plate? Because I was having so much fun stuffing myself I forgot to take a picture till after I was done with the washing. Thanks again.

Afterwards, we ended up talking over tea for hours. Well, slap some FCUK on me and call me a homo - we talked about past relationships.

As she possesses a one year advantage over me, she deemed it necessary to bestow love advice on me. I was a willing bestowee.

Kesimpulannya, I made many mistakes. That was her conclusion.

"Oh. That was wrong."

"Oh. You shouldn't have done that."

"Oh. You're such an asswipe."

Haha. I could've figured that out by myself.

On a sidenote, don't you get all happy when a song you've totally forgotten about resurfaces from the depths of your memory banks? When you jump over your bed to get to your laptop just so you can get on LimeWire? Especially if it's a song you liked. Well, I'm all happy right now. Lucy Pearl featuring Tony Toni Tone - I Wanna Dance Tonight. Pay extra attention to the bass-line.

Ramblings

2005-07-29T02:15:00.000+08:00

Let me warn you in advance. There will be no structure to this. Think of it as me thinking aloud. My thoughts translated to words, although I doubt I'll be able to do the freaking storm in my head justice.

My sister was supposed to come to Dublin. She was supposed to come and tend to her lil' brother as he slogs through his resits. And after he was done slogging, they were supposed to travel together. To where, we'll never know now, will we?

In light of the recent terrorist activities, that plan is one that will have to be binned. Till when? God knows. Indefinitely, maybe.

I'm kinda disappointed.

I could have used the company. Why do I feel so selfish as I type? Fuck knows. My sister says I only bother when I'm all ruffled up, shaken and stirred. When I'm happy, I couldn't care less about family. Which is true, once I really think about it.

Damn I have issues. Solve yourselves, why can't you?

The examination schedule has been changed. It used to be 9th, 12th and 16th. Which was pretty good. Nicely spread out, just enough time for last minute revisions. But fuck that, luck's never on my side, is it? It's now 12th, 16th and 17th. Which kinda unsettles me, as the paper on the 17th is slow sweet murder.

I'm kinda disappointed.

I seem to bring out the worst in people. The very hidden, deep down worst. After careful consideration, I think it is not so much as to what I say, but rather how I say it. Not to say that what I have say is fantastic in the first place, but coupled with how I say what I want to say, I just manage to blow the whole thing to fucking shreds. You with me on what I'm trying to say?

I'm sorry. I really am. What I thought I knew turned out to be so wrong it's almost laughable. I meant no harm, I mean no harm. I don't know what to do, how to do it, what to say, how to say it almost all the time. What comes out in the end is a mediocre, feeble attempt, that more often than not succeeds in fucking up everything.

I'm far from being even right, and for that, I'm kinda disappointed. I have no right to request for a shred of past normalcy, that I know.

I'm kinda disappointed.

One of my classmates is having a get together later at her new apartment. She wants people to warm her new house. Should I, or should I not? I dread what's imminent.

"Hey man, why are you back in Dublin so soon? Do you have resits as well?"

Damn you, bitch pride. You have cost me. And you still will. I need to beat the fucking pulp out of you.

Will I be able to? If I'm not, I'll be -yes, you guessed right- kinda disappointed.

Love

2005-07-24T06:55:00.000+08:00

..thy neighbour, God said. He definitely knew what he was talking about.

The days have been dull. Am uninspired, tired and bored all at the same time. The monotony of my day(s) was unceremoniously broken at dinner. It was a welcome interruption. Very much so.

Aisyah, who lives downstairs, invited me over for food. We were both starved of human attention. It was great.

The neighbour, slaving. Thanks loads.

She made chicken curry. From scratch. I can't make chicken curry. From scratch.

The curry was complimented by roti canai. Not from scratch, but nonetheless fantastic.

Thanks, Aisyah. You made my day. You have no idea how much it meant to me. You're my malaikat. Bidadari. Whatever.

Sectumsempra!

2005-07-21T22:27:00.000+08:00

Harry's a pothead and the prince is a chap cheng. I'm feeling kind today, so there will be no spoilers.

It's been eight years since I first read The Philosopher's Stone. Having finished the second-to-last book minutes ago, I have to say I'm disappointed.

It was darker, yes, but there were not any fireworks. Is it just me, or did the fun stop with The Prisoner of Azkaban?

The saga concludes in two years' time. It started with me beginning high school, it will end with me graduating college.

Freaky.

Penang

2005-07-20T15:34:00.000+08:00

Is changing at a rapid pace. I got lost more than once, trying to navigate the streets. When the old mates congregate, one topic of discussion that never fails to come up is the future, location-wise.

What are you going to do after you graduate? Where? Will you come back home? To Penang?

Wherever the ching-a-ling takes me, I'm definitely coming back. Mark my words, I'll be back. Eventually. For sure.

Pictures that have been in my phone for the last two months..

Hazy. View from my old place. I'm gonna miss the area. Goodbye Gelugor. I'll drop by.

'Hillside Famous Ah Soon Char Koay Teow'. I'm forced to shift from the comfort of Toto Cafe in Island Glades to this. The char koay teow doesn't taste half bad. And it doesn't hurt that the place is so close by. Fags are always gonna be a few seconds away! Yahoo.

The famous DeSalvo, over drinks in the kopi tiam behind Free School. Alas, he has long escaped the blogging bug's bite, to my (and I'm sure, many others) dismay.

Dr. Sotong @ Larry Loo. Is currently being shaken up and ruffled in Dundee. All the best, banana man. Dublin is just an hour's flight away.

Sotong Junior @ Larry's little brother. Over kerang and Carlsberg. You smoke too much, man. Slow down.

Eugene, trying to catch the eye of a hot waitress in Sega's. Damn we didn't manage to get her name. Good luck to you and Kah Siang, remember my Evo 9 when you guys make it big.

Tesco the stray cat, who's so smart she knows how to operate the elevator. She keeps coming up the the twelfth floor. What for, I don't know. She keeps trying to come into the old place.

Easily distracted/satisfied. Tesco eating fish. I gave her milk as well, okay?

I miss home, for the first time ever. I never felt this way before, even when I came to Dublin for the first time two-or-so years ago.

Gaping Hole

2005-07-20T01:12:00.000+08:00

I feel as if I've fallen into one.

I'm feeling so very low. I haven't felt this bad since.. I can't even remember.

Am back in Dublin after two months of blissful familiarity. Wait, check that. The blissful part calls for some review. It was great, being home. But my time was dogged. Oh-so-dogged by my results.

Before they came out, I couldn't stop thinking about them: Did I do well? Did I fuck up the clinical diagnoses? Did I..?

After they came out, I still couldn't stop thinking about them: Fuck, I have to go back soon. Fuck, a month. Fuck, a week. Fuck, two days.

And now I'm back. Arrived in Dublin at eight this morning. Spent the whole day cleaning the house, doing laundry, getting groceries, fuck like that.

I have always relished the absence of my housemate. But not today. I'm craving for contact with someone. Anyone at all. The silence is so fucking loud my ears hurt. Do you know what I mean? The immense ringing that comes with total silence?

One has got to deal, no?

And deal I shall try. No. And deal I must.

Will this mark the reinstatement of post regularity? I hope so. Since there is no one, I might as well talk to everyone.

Have I mentioned I feel like shit?

I Like

2005-06-28T01:38:00.000+08:00

..Sarah Tan. Very much. A lot.

I rarely watch tv, but a set is always tuned onto Channel V, in hopes of catching a glimpe of her mind-boggling beauty. This has been a crush that has withstood the test of time. Very well indeed.

I like you. Will you go out with me? I am a very nice boy. Really.

Time

2005-06-27T22:46:00.000+08:00

..has been bloody precious to me lately. I'm running out of it.

If you actually bother to keep up, I apologise for the lack of updates. Have been extremely busy with the new place. There's always something left to do. There's no end to the amount of shit that has to be rectified.

Sim, you were right. Absolutely.

The farmer is away, so like it or not, I have to deal with them shady businessmen.

Got into an argument with a light-fixture shop owner today. You fucking asshole. Don't you understand the meaning of defective? Something does not have to be broken in order for it to be defective, you bitch. I hope your kids are enjoying their lives, seeing that you're supporting them dishonestly.

You refuse to refund me; you ask me to credit/exchange it with other goods. Just what the fuck am I supposed to buy? Four hundred light bulbs? You stupid fuck.

Tulan.

Larry's back. Nick and wifey are coming over to Penang tomorrow. It's not all bad.

Ten Years

2005-06-21T22:26:00.000+08:00

The (old) house has finally secured a buyer. A Mr. Muru (with a really hot Chindian wife) is outside right now, finalising purchase details with the farmer.

I've lived here for ten years, give or take a few months. I guess it can be said everything important in my life happened whilst I was living here. Kinda.

What am I going to miss the most? My mattress tops the list. Every single person who has slept on it commented on its comfort factor. I shit you not. I'm going to miss the 60-cent nasi lemak just down the road. And the ikan bakar.

I'm gonna miss the lift as well. It comes in real handy when you can't wait till the twelfth floor. Ho ho ho.

I remember hiding in the garbage room with Kelvin and CC, rolling joints. CC got so fucking high he wanted to commit suicide. It was scary yet hilarious. Remember, CC? "I wanna dieee.. Just let me dieee.."

I'm sorry we didn't relent.

We got into the lift after finishing up. I remember the three of us standing there. Just waiting. Kelvin spoke up first. "Hey.. Why's the lift not moving?"

No one pressed the button.

Mr. Muru's wife is damn hot balls. Did I tell you she's Chindian? Damn hot. Damn.

It's amazing the amount of shit one can accumulate over such a period of time.

Antiquity in a piece of plastic. I feel so old.

Ha. Ha.

My sister's bitch doll gave me nightmares when I was younger. I enjoyed tearing it apart earlier. Oh joy.

Take away all the sampah and you'll have the world's nicest room and mattress.

This used to be mine. No wonder I'm so messed up.

I drew this in Standard 5. Sedap, balls. Lucky I'm not in architecture. I would've failed much worse than I have now. Ha. Ha.

I had a hard time of letting these go to the boys at the Salvation Army. From left: my band shoes, first pair of loafers, my lucky Superstars.

UPSR papers! Looking back, I think you have to be stupid not to pass:
Amin suka makan..
a. nasi
b. kasut
c. tayar
d. kayu

I'm gonna miss this place. Don't mess it up, Mr. Muru. Hot wife or not, I'll be watching you.

Dear Farmer

2005-06-16T01:15:00.000+08:00

I have failed you. I am ashamed.

Perfection is unattainable, yes -everyone has their flaws- but you are definitely one in a million.

I see it in your eyes. You wonder. Why am I not as strong as you? Why do I break? You have taught me to only show hurt when alone. You have taught me to be strong, if not for myself, for the people around me.

But yet I cannot. I see you question yourself.

Question not, for it is me. For I am weak. I wish too, to be like you. But no. Not yet? I can only hope that it is so.

You have never denied me of anything. You have given me everything, far beyond what is necessary. As long as I ask, it will be waiting. If not today, it'll be there tomorrow.

Have I abused it? Have I asked for too much? I have always tried to exercise prudence, but I am sorry if I have faltered, even once.

I make mistake after mistake, but still you say not but 'Take it easy, life is such.". And my mistakes do not come cheap. They cost, in every possible way.

I told you this morning.

"Take it easy, it can never always be up.".

I am so fucking ashamed of myself I can find no words.

I told you I tried my best. You saw right through that lie, but still you said nothing.

I judged you once. I was idealistic. I now know that life is never black and white. It is a fucking grey mess. I'm sorry. I learnt that then, but I wonder.. How much is there left to learn? Will I ever know it all?

I want to.

I am sorry. Forgive me.

Chinese Eyes

2005-06-11T02:43:00.000+08:00

"I like your hair. Where'd you get it done?"

"Bisexual hair salon."

"Huh? I think you mean unisex hair salon."

"Oh. Yeah. Unisex hair salon."

Haha. I'm easily amused. That one scene from Sepet made my day. Have finally watched the chronicles of Ah Loong and Orked, and I have to say, it's not half bad. I can't remember the last time I watched a decent local movie. Puteri Gunung Ledang put me to sleep.

Kudos to Yasmin Ahmad. She has balls. Well, not literally, but you know what I mean. Pro-Bumi issues were highlighted (albeit subtly), acknowledging a long-kept plight by the discriminated. I could go on and on (and on and on), but racism is a topic that's been so talked about, sudah busuk. And as I do not have the privilege of anonymity, I shall not risk anything. Contrary to Yasmin Ahmad, I have not balls.

I especially enjoyed the myriad of languages used throughout, and the intentional minimalisation of subtitles. If you're not Malaysian, you'll miss out on a couple of jokes. Fantastic. Also Ah Loong's mother. She vocalised our general hatred of the people across the straits*. The Johore Straits, not the Melaka Straits.

Apa lu olang Singkapo tahu? Melatah macam orang-utan! Rambut warna pun macam orang-utan!

Syabas. I was laughing again.

I have to say I was a bit shocked when Orked went "All Malays are lazy" or when Keong spouted "Cibai" on-screen. This is an original VCD sommore! Okay-lah, not really original-lah, but definitely copied from an original.

I wanted to buy original but could not find.

Haha.

Censorship, it seems, has come a slight way. More power to you people. This made me wonder, however: if it wasn't the brainchild of a Bumi, would any of this have been allowed? I ~~think~~ know not. There's still a long way to go.

Sepet tells the general Malaysian story pretty well, considering it's only an hour or so long. I think it was fantastic that Ah Loong died. Sorry if I fucked your Sepet experience up. Haha. Him dying made an otherwise forgettable movie unforgettable. At least for a few weeks, I think.

And Orked's hot. Call me Abdullah and skin the tip of my xiao di di anytime, if the spoils are such.

My time in Seremban is coming to an end. I've been passing time by devouring my aunt's DVD collection. Sepet, Wicker Park, Mean Girls, Honey, tons of Singaporean movies. I enjoyed Wicker Park. And Chicken Rice War.

Fuck. Pretend you didn't read that.

Even though it's as Singaporean* as.. -damn, I can't think of anything-, I liked Chicken Rice War when I first watched it years ago. Watching it again was good fun. I think it's largely due to the gorgeous Lum May Yee. She's not the hottest thing around, I know, but there's just something about her. Hot girls are everywhere (kinda), but it's rare for a girl to have the 'something something' factor. If you're a guy, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.

That something-lah. You know, got something!

Anyway.

Have been exchanging e-mails with this guy from KL for the past five months. Am interested in buying something from him, but am still unsure. Tomorrow holds the answer. Tomorrow will decide. I hope it works out well. I want it very much, but the price has to be just right.

Results will be out any time this week, so every day is a bitch. I dread logging on, then seeing the word FAIL next to any one of my papers. Oh please don't do this to me. I'll be good, I promise. I won't fuck around anymore next year. Really, I won't.

Lastly, and most importantly, a very happy birthday to Kah Siang. There's no finer ADM, mentor and friend to be found anywhere. I'd forsake Orked and Lum May Yee, combined, to be able to have a drink with you on this day. Next year, brother. Next year. Have a fucktastic 24th.

*Why am I so biased? Why do I see them through shit-coloured glasses? I don't know. I think hard and long, but an answer eludes me, any answer at all. Sorry. Well, fuck that then. Haha.

Seremban Siew Pau

2005-06-08T22:08:00.000+08:00

I've been disconnected for so very long.

Dial-up is painfully slow. Literally. I hurt every time I wait for a page to load.

First things first, I'd like to acknowledge Alvin's departure from the blogging station. For now, I hope. I've been a reader since 2003, and it's sad to see you go. Really. No one can say it like you do. Now there's only three or so blogs to read. On my part.

Fuck man. I'll be back home by Sunday. Yam cha then.

Back from where? Am currently in Seremban. Have been driving down to Nilai every night to meet up with Ben. Don't feel like going down to KL, as traffic's hell.

Once you stop blogging for a few days, the moments pile up. They pile up so fucking high you get lost in them. YZ says I haven't been motivated/inspired lately, that's why.

I guess so. I'm permanently in a bad mood. I'm fucking bored down here, and I can't leave yet as there are still things to see to.

Of Dreams

2005-06-02T14:26:00.000+08:00

Have just awoken. My dreams have been repetitive of late.

I'm walking in Holland Village is Singapore, searching. For what, I really do not know. Sometimes I have friends with me, but most times I'm alone.

I look for a 7-Eleven. I find one. I want to buy fags, but they only have Durex cigarettes. I search for Marlboros, but it is hopeless. I continue walking, wandering, up and down. If alone, it feels shit.

I see a dingy kopi tiam. I walk in and get my Marlboros. As I pay my seven-something Sing dollars, I turn around. Sitting at the end, I see someone from my past, picking at a roadside burger.

Just what the hell does it mean? I always wake feeling down.

CC is done with the Penang portion of his degree, and will be going down to KL this Friday. I'm gonna miss you, bro. Keep well and don't feng tau. Ding dong ding dong ding dong ding donggg.

Finally went to Intan Nasi Lemak (the one behind Free School) last night. Met up with Kelvin and Gomes. It's always a blast when it's just the three of us. Remnants of schooling life, I guess.

I have yet to see three very important people here. Once I have done so, I can go back to my hell hole in peace. Larry a.k.a. Dr. Sotong - still in IMU, finals now; we've been sharing since before we had pubic hair. Irene - who has yet to come home from the US of A. My sister - who seems to care not that her super kawaii lil' bro is back from no man's land.

Will be flying down to see my sister this Friday. Am dreading it (the flight, not the seeing-her part). Gotta get some stuff from KL anyway.

I don't want to dream the same dream again.

Are you there? Do you still exist? Or am I merely kept by a shadow, a dream? If I don't find out, this will never end.

Kantui

2005-06-01T13:01:00.000+08:00

I received a text a week back.

Hi. Seong Hong right? My sister gave me your number. Thanks for offering to help out when I'm in Penang. I think I most likely will have to take you up on your offer. Thanks again! Will call you when I'm reaching Penang..

The girl who texted me - I'll call her A - is the baby sister of my colleague - I'll call her B - in Dublin. B and I are quite good friends; she joins us for drinks most of the time.

For the life of me, I can't remember what I offered to help with. Seeing as to how I'm usually drunk when I'm with B, I got slightly worried. Kaninabu, just what did I offer to help with?

So I replied.

Hey, no worries. Just give me a call whenever. If I can help, I'll gladly do so.

My balls were shrinking by the second, whilst waiting for her reply.

Thank you. But I most probably will need a place to stay. Thanks again yeah.

Lemma puki chau cibai! I offered her a place to stay? Since when? Kantui already. Kantui. Being the uber gentleman I am, I can't possibly come out with a lame excuse out of the blue to kick her out, right? I'd lose my credibility, that for which I've worked tirelessly for.

My pride has proven to be my downfall. Again. For the millionth and one time.

I'm going to pick A up in a few hours time. Meanwhile, I gotta go change the sheets.

Shit. Kantui.

Inanity

2005-05-31T02:00:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-27T12:23:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-26T11:34:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-25T12:01:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-24T21:51:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-17T09:41:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-14T13:51:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-13T04:12:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-11T21:40:00.000+08:00

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!

2005-05-11T06:03:00.000+08:00

Fuck! Fuck!

Fuck! Fuck!

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

:D! :D!

Say Hello

2005-05-09T09:11:00.000+08:00

..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

2005-05-08T22:00:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-08T03:14:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-07T21:16:00.000+08:00

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..

2005-05-05T21:16:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-05T03:08:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-04T08:57:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-03T01:20:00.000+08:00

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

2005-05-02T03:10:00.000+08:00

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..

2005-05-01T06:11:00.000+08:00

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.

Bastards

2005-04-30T22:03:00.000+08:00

I'm sure we've all gotten used to this..

They seem to have come up with newer, more exciting ones, though..

What's it going to be next?

"Die, you smoker bitch, die!"

Or the far more terrifying..

"Haha, you're not gonna be able to get it up tonight! No sex for you, stupid boy!"

Whatever happened to ethics?

Of Wasting, Bens & Hantus

2005-04-30T18:39:00.000+08:00

Have just gotten home from the time I posted last. Chicken katsu curry at Wagamama's with Ben did not materialise. Which led to a forty eight hour-long wasting session.

It seems that the Irish have developed a fad for fusion Japanese cuisine, which explained the long queue of pale-faced hopefuls waiting to go into Wagamama's. That cost me my chicken katsu curry. Damn you people. Cibai.

Decided to walk much further downtown to Charlie's 3. Charlie's is a chain of fast food/takeout outlets in Dublin. The owner is Malaysian, an Ipoh guy, and almost its whole staff is the former as well. It's always nice eating there, as they have almost proper Malaysian fare. Their Char Koay Teow, Nasi Lemak, and Nasi Ayam are especially worth noting.

The only downside to the place is that they're located very close to Nick & Ron's home, which means that a session at C3 will always be followed by a session at theirs, whether planned or not. So. Since Ben and I have been stuck at home studying (or trying our best to, rather), we decided to drop by for a bit of male bonding.

Big mistake.

Ended up getting really smashed. Drank our current and undoubtedly soon-to-be sorrows away. How smashed?

This smashed.

The picture cracks me up. Ha. Ha. Chit chit!

After a night a restless sleep (punctuated by instances of retching and regurgitation), we decided to go for a movie marathon. XXX2, Guess Who?, The Wedding Date. Dinner followed. Decided then to adjourn to Ben's place as Ron had a sudden Naruto craving. Stayed up the whole night talking cock/watching anime at Ben's.

And thus, forty eight hours of our lives were spent. I hope my dad doesn't find out this is how I spend his hard-earned money. I'm sorry, father. I will help you till the earth, milk the cows, and slaughter the pigs when I'm home for summer.

Our parents are all farmers, see.

That said, there's been confusion in the air about how many Bens are there, and which Ben is which. I will try and uh.. clear up the air.

The Ben whose blog link is to the right is Ben Khor. He tags as Ben/Ben Khor. Ben Khor is currently reading law in Malaysia. Ben Khor went to school with me, and was my student in the sax. I thought him how to blow, he thought me a considerable amount about life. A quick hello to Ben Khor. Hello, Ben Khor!

The Ben who is in Ireland is Ben Lim. He lives down the road from me, and this is how he looks when asleep.

I'm all cracked up again. Ha. Ha. Ben Lim tags as Apt. 6 Pembroke St. and secretly resents Ben Khor for sharing his name. Kidding.

Whoa.. That certainly took awhile.

Am ending now. So long, farewell. The contents of my precious jar of sambal ikan bilis have mysteriously menghilang. I'm on to you, hantu ikan bilis. Stop eating my sambal.

Cheep! Cheep!

2005-04-29T01:55:00.000+08:00

Cheep like birds chirping.

This is going to be a happy post. It might well be a totally random and inane post, but still; it will be a happy post.

Spring's here. There's actually sunlight streaming in through the windows. Now, doesn't sunlight make you happy? It does me! Yippee!

I keep my bread in the freezer. It takes me a few weeks to finish a loaf of bread. Yeah baby! Yippee for frozen bread!

JD has been officially voted liquor of the year by the RNSA (Ron Nick Seong Association). Not many people have heard of us, but we are active nonetheless. It'd do you good to join us.

I drink lots of juice and soy milk. My monthly soy milk and juice bill could probably sustain a really tiny, poor, third-world country. Like Singapore. Soy milk reminds me of Faruk. Faruk was once our school captain. That's head boy for you losers not in the know. Once school captain of PFS, now sells soya (lets not forget cincau and mata kucing) in the school canteen. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I miss you, Faruk.

I'm very much in love with my rice cooker. Not only can it cook rice, it has specialised programmes for nasi lemak, quick cook (when you just can't fucking wait for your rice), slow cook (when you want to make soup/stew), porridge, brown rice, and even sushi rice. You can even use it for steamboat! Do I hear gasps of awe and disbelief? Yes! Such a perfect appliance exists! Its nonstick coating is the best in the world! Nothing sticks to it! Thus, I only wash it once a month.

Meet my soft toy. Yes, you read right. I own a soft toy. Say hello to David the gay squirrel. An old friend gave it to me before I came to Dublin, as then, I was beginning/ending all my sentences with the phrase chit chit. You don't understand? For example.. Chit chit, let's go for supper! Or you'd receive an sms from me saying: Chit chit! Why, I hear you puzzled minds? Hell knows. That was my squirrel phase. Hence the birth of David the gay squirrel. As to why David is gay, he's rather aversive of the subject, so be sensitive and don't ask.

Happy as heck I am! I have to go bathe now, as I have a dinner date with Ben at Wagamama's. My chicken katsu curry is waiting for me.

Dark Days

2005-04-28T16:11:00.000+08:00

All good has forsaken the world we live in. Pretty much everything has turned to shite.

Think about it. We are pleasantly surprised when service in a restaurant is with a smile, when dialing up a customer service line actually produces results. Gratitude mounts everytime an honest transaction takes places, the rare instances we're not fucked over by salespeople. Meeting random samaritans make our day; crossing paths with a stranger who had actually bothered to smile and greet is met with insane surprise. We go on to gush to everyone who will listen..

"Wahh.. This place ahh, service damn good wei!"

"Weii.. The place actually gives a proper discount, an honest price! Go buy from there-lah next time!"

You get the idea.

But, shouldn't these things be expected? Wishful thinking on my part, for the days we live in are dark. So very dark.

9/11, Columbine, Bali. Fear breeds fear.

Fine, not close enough to home?

I remember reading in The Star not too long ago about a carjacking. KL. Businessman drives top of the line Mercedes; S-Class with fingerprint recognition. Scanning is necessary for ignition. Jacker cuts off businessman's finger, bundles him in the boot. Beats him up, strips him naked, dumps him along the Federal Highway.

A friend of mine witnessed a hold up a while back in KL. Selfless as he is, he tried to intervene. Got stabbed multiple times; was literally inches from death. Wouldn't have known had Alvin not blogged about it.

Penang. A friend of mine parked in a public car park. It was the middle of the day. Upon approaching his BMW, he realises that someone slashed his tyres. Random person who was nearby offered to help remedy the problem. Friend gratefully accepts. The first instant my friend drops his guard, random person jumps in and drives off. On slashed tyres.

And did you know you can pop somebody in Penang for less than a thousand ringgit? I hope I don't piss off the wrong person. Ha. Ha.

Penang. Somebody I know, somebody you probably know. An acquantaince. Rapist. He raped his girlfriend; girlfriend got pregnant. He gave her a few hundred ringgit for an abortion. He left her soon after.

Penang. As again, somebody I know, somebody you most probably know as well. Beats his girlfriend. Often. Girlfriend still stuck with him regardless. Why? Fuck knows. He left her though, as soon as the next shorter skirt/prettier punching bag crossed his path.

No shite, no exaggeration.

Just what the fuck is wrong with us?

I want to believe, as many do, in a greater good. I hear you say I'm looking in all the wrong places. I hear you. But really, how can there be an ultimate plan; a purpose so great it is unknown to us, a bigger picture, if all the pieces that make up the puzzle are so fucked up?

I want to believe, like I once did, but you sure as hell ain't making it easy for me. Are you there? Are you, really?

I don't think so. I think we're all alone. And I don't fucking like it one bit.