Monday, November 29, 2010

Because reality doesnt apply to powdered chocolate drinks

I refer you to Oligo's advertisement on local Malaysian television. For foreign readers, I extend my sincere apologies as I've tried to look for the ad on youtube but it was unfortunately unavailable. It is my belief that it is THAT bad and hence not worthy of youtube notoriety.

In said advertisement for powdered chocolate drink mix, various situations are shown where one party has committed an act which has another party aggrieved. These situations range from what I suspect is a cheating partner, mischievous children and and their mischievous acts which have resulted in broken pottery and incompetent employee submitting substandard work to a visibly angry boss. Once the montage of various acts of human conflict has passed, the scene then abruptly shows said guilty parties doing the 'Oligo' dance. The dance consists of making hand masks over your eyes by making Os with your index finger and your thumb touching each other. Said dance has the effect of making aggrieved party smile and, through suggestion, one is led to believe that all is forgiven.

Absurd I know. Most absurd being the acerbic boss, what with his table thumping and vitriolic hand gestures at said workers now suddenly letting off the hook and smiling presumably for his love of hand masks and chocolate powder drink mix. The one with the cheating spouse sends the wrong message to people who have commitment issues and don't believe in monogamy That chocolate powder drinks gives you a free pass to fuck around. The kids, I just leave it to either 'special children' or gullible parents. Or a mix of both.

I know that absurdity is a hallmark of the advertising world, but there has to be a limit. And Oligo has surpassed that limit. Milo's better anyway. Even if it leads you to believe that you'll be an athlete of Herculean levels by drink "vitamin enriched malt chocolates"

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

I dont like doing titles. It reminds me too much of my job

yeah. i know. its been almost 3 months. luckily i'm not financially or socially obligated to write for friends and family and people accidentally coming here because they probably typed fuck and asian on google and wound up here, thinking that hey, free porn. its ok habibie. happens to the best of us.

job = serving at the pleasure of others for something wages. According to latest studies, I'm bordering on near poverty levels with regards to my pay. But hey, all part of our great leaders plan for high income economy through this transformation and that transformation right? Between you and me, I think he has a fixation on megan fox and specifically her role in movie with said transformers, sentient robots who could transform. Then again im only on probation so with confirmation it pushes me up to not really within poverty levels but still not able to buy anything on down payment schemes level. Yeah, its better than doing nothing, but its in the international workers' manifesto that employees be allowed a minimum of 2 to 3 hours of bitching about work per day. read it. its in your union papers.

evolution = innocent girl- culture shock girl- wild girl- experimentation girl- hipster girl- work girl- wife- divorcee- cougar- repeat starting from hispter girl stage

disappointment = comics as ordered on time- comics late- comics missing- comics irrevocably gone- sorrow at lost of limited edition green lantern special event lacking just ONE fucking issue more

rediscovery=falling in love again with fantasy novels, specifically robert jordan's wheel of time. why didnt any of you tell me it was so fucking good? you did? well why didnt you just buy me the first book to get me started since you know i'll read any book i get for a present (BIG HINT)? now i have to start from book 1 of 13. and you know Malaysia, not exactly a Mecca for avid readers.

music = whatever rocks your boat. 25 most played songs range from Daft Punk to DJ Starscream( Sid Wilson from Slipknot), Sparks the rescue to Thao with the get down stay downs.
Except kesha and Far East Movement. What the bloody hell is a G6? and how to people pretend to get drunk? oh wait, you can. if you want to get out of a party where one of your ex's evil exs is there. or it could be your ex his/herself. speaking of which..

surprised= Scott Pilgrim vs The World. really. believe the hype. Unless you know, you're into goth and religious programming. anywhere between that you're fine. yes i know its michael cera, the canadian thin version of seth rogan who is in turn the taller thinner jonah hill. yes, i know they've all worked together before. Yay Metric.

expected = fund raiser girl for the spastic home asking if im Malaysian and upon affirmation says " wow, your english is sooooo good!". Uh huh.. if i had Rm 1 for everytime i heard that... also.. drinking copious amounts of orange juice will give you bad acid reflux.

feel like punching = work if it was in corporeal form. a certain unwanted acquaintance which would have had their badly filled teeth knocked out from them a long ago if she wasn't a woman. bitch. Yes I know I don't have a girlfriend. no need to constantly remind me of the fact. you see, unlike yourself with a free and easy job and magic charms, work actually inhibits me from seeking unpaid(sorta) companionship. And, frankly, its none of your fucking business.

Ironically, it is said work which is necessary through earning of wages to support a working relationship with one of the fairer sex. Don't kid yourself ladies. A certain amount of money is needed for a stable relationship. It does not mean RM 3000 bags or Rm 300 blouses. It means that I can support you in a long term relationship which may or may not include a spawn of our own, and various other household and assorted agreements for services and amenities. Plus I like a fancy dinner once in a while which may or may not in all likelihood of end with post meal coitus. Because Im in lesbian with you(its a Scott Pilgrim joke)

horrible realization = im 25, the cut off point for acting like an immature man-child. Adults suck, and then you become one. I was told as a young man not past the age of 13 that as an adult one could go into arcades and have sex with yucky girls who will start becoming appealing once the big 1-8 hit. Well, arcades have now been replaced with cyber cafes, of which their novelties have worn off, and im not getting laid as often as i should have with the now attractive and very much appealing ladies. So.. yeah.. *lights a cigarette and shares an awkward silence with imaginary person behind the laptop screen.

and im down to my last cigarette. see you then in a couple of months

Thursday, October 07, 2010

sesi berteriak #314

I saw Dazed and Confused. I was bored and annoyed with it. Which leads me to question why Quentin Tarantino list's it as one of his favourite movies. Then again, he did make Kill Bill and Death Proof. Only Selma Hayak's appearance saved From Dusk to Dawn from appearing in that same sentence.

If we ever meet again. That song is so.. infectious to say the least. Even if you hate pop you can't help but hum that song as it sinks deeper and deeper into your hipster subconscious. On a related note, only Katy Perry can pull off the fringe look. And you, madam who thinks she's 30 but actually more like 50, are not Katy Perry.

Jaybob and his dvdrip team have spoilt me. I no longer enjoy the cinema experience. Part of this rationale could be a uniquely Malaysian perspective, given that most Malaysian cinema goers are just down right rude and have no idea what decorum is (no, its not a new brand of rum) and/or have kids. Blame also shifts to the censorship board of Malaysia which has their mindset firmly rooted in the 1910s. Also, if you get offended by the word fuck... what the hell are you doing watching a film like the Expandables? You sir/madam/prick, are at the height of hypocrisy.

I don't know how to flirt. Really, I don't. I am more likely to have a deep and somewhat intelligent conversation with you as the night wears on instead of, you know, trying to get in your pants. I invariably enter into "friend" zone at which I'm more comfortable with and that eventually leads to another sexless night because who wants to do "such a nice guy" right? I have not in fact found a friend with benefits or a fuck buddy and am beginning to think that they're are merely creatures of myth like unicorns or a just and incorruptibly politician. And Lord Xemu i guess.

I really hope my kids are talented in something. Musical instruments are a good start. So's sports. Please do not become like your father who has delusions of grandeur that he can write. Hell, even if you become a doctor that's already a huge bonus. Heck, anything actually, so long as it's not pornography or drug running. I would not rather have you behind bars with a rather large set man named Tina with a "mom" tattoo on his forehead.

"You may now kiss the bride". "Kiss her? I am going to DESTROY her" That made me laugh.

Two people I would have hoped would have wished me Happy Birthday did not in the end. This made me melancholic. One of you know who you are. The other, I doubt very much since Im further from you sphere that is your life than the star formerly known as planet Pluto. But then again im not supposed to care so.... In fact I do care, but I'm supposed to present a stoic front as a self defense mechanism which everyone who knows me well is a ruse of the highest order and as fake as a mall santa who answer's his phone with "Wazzup Playa!" while in mid "HoHoHo"( what exactly do you call that anyway? a merry guffaw? a hearty chortle?)

This post was incidentally written on 7 October 2010 but was only published 11.11pm on 1/1/11.

Edit: This post was edited on 7/9/2011 to correct a rather glaring mistake which no one pointed out but I decided to change anyway since I'm such an anal (personality, not sexual position) kind of guy.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010


Independence day is like valentines day to me. Sentimental at best, utterly redundant at worst. You already know my feelings about Valentines day. My feelings on Independence day is simply an extension of that same feeling. Anyone with a intellect can tell that, things are not as rosey as they seem in Malaysia. There is unequal enforcement of the law, the judiciary is a joke and corruption is seen as the norm rather the exception. These problems pale in comparison with the underlying and ubiquitous racism that is becoming more apparent everyday. You cannot pick up a newspaper daily without getting angry at the perceived and/or real racial tensions. Even in the weeks leading up to Merdeka, we have principals telling us that if you're not Malay, you're just a passenger. You have no right or say in how things are run. That if we don't like it here we should just go back to China or India or wherever it is our ethnicity determines we're from. We have vandals firebombing places of worship. We have "groups" telling us not to question something that we inherently find wrong "or else". The dream of nationhood envisioned by those who gave us our freedom have been sullied and soiled by those who stalk the corridors of power today. I love my country with all my heart. But, using a football metaphor, I hate the way things are being run by those in power. Nonetheless and in spite of that, I love my country. I'm Malaysian. Im not Chinese, I'm not a foreigner, I'm not just here to make money and run away. I'm Malaysian. And I'm here to stay.

What also grinds my gears is the fact that only today are people speaking up about solidarity and unity. Why today only? If we are to achieve our vaunted 1Malaysia vision, shouldn't it be a daily mantra? Recited and unequivocally shouted from the rooftops everyday in the face of an ever growing and boisterous minority who feel otherwise? This is going back again to my Valentines day argument. Do not affix cosmic/nationalistic significance to a single day if the cause is one that you truly believe in. Yes, remember our heritage, our history, our coming into being, but do not abuse that privilege by simply making nationalistic statements only today.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Intraweb Blues

Internet. It's the greatest thing since individually wrapped slices of cheese. It seems also that it's the greatest social ill facing Malaysian youths today, if you would believe the headlines. From sex to games, blame the internet. Kid skipping class for DoTa? Internet. Teen getting horny because he's never seen pussy before? Internet. Youth resorting to violence because the game he plays has graphic violence? Internet. You know what grinds my gears though? The apparent helplessness that parents seem to feel regarding their child's "addiction". YOU ARE THE PARENT. Take charge. Take some fucking responsibility. Beat your kid. Do not buy into the bullshit that Oprah shuffles onto your plate that you can't discipline your kid. Think. Why didn't the youth of yesteryear have this problem? Saying that there was no internet is total bullshit. There will and always be some form of distraction and "social ill" regardless of the times. It's because parents then had the grapefruits to take control of the situation. Kids these days have it too fucking easy. This fucking Western concept of "freedom" and rebellion and all that melodramatic hormone induce teenage bullshit is just an excuse to fuck up. Until you're 18, your ass belongs to your parents. Don't like it? Move the fuck out and be a man. What? Can't pay the rent on your "loft" appartment? Get a job. Can't get a job because you have no education? Get into crime. Got arrested and now sharing bunkbeds, among other things, with a rather large man named Trudy in prison? Yeah, have fun with your "freedom".

Look, everyone likes to visit the cyber cafe once in a while. Hell, i rather be playing a game than getting intoxicated on alcohol or drugs or getting the clap from some 50rm hooker and/or slut. But to say that it's the main cause of all this social evils is just being myopic. Parent's; you need to get your shit together and take charge of your charge. Kids; get your fucking priorities straight. It's just a fucking game.

Saturday, July 17, 2010


not the size of one of my more important appendages, but the length of each paragraph

You don't find love. You settle, and then delude yourself into thinking otherwise.

In the movies it's always the good guys who get the girl. In real life, it's mostly the prick. And the girl's probably a real bitch, but your raging hormones would tell you otherwise

Sometimes you feel like you're an extra in the movie adaptation of the sequel to your life.

Anyone can write. It's just that the famous ones look better in real life.

You say personality, I say peer pressure that dictates acceptable social interaction. And/or consumption of alcohol

I don't write futurist percussive poetry. Yes its a real form of poetry. Thank you intraweb and Michael Cera for bringing that to our attention.

I wonder if there's Indie Hindi music.

Im not into indie music. More of the we were indie but now that people actually think we play good music therefore we are mainstream kinda music. Ok fine, Pavement's still indie. But then again so is everything else that has a "cult following".

Defenestrate. Such a calm sounding word juxtaposed to what it actually means.

Degree= unless you're actually employed in a job related to it, is as useful as a vhs tape in this day and age.

Im not actually smart or well read. I just speak really well at times. When I don't mumble.

Blind loyalty to Lord Kevin Smith could not mask the fact that Cop Out wasnt really that good. But his Lordship is redeemed by the fact that he didn't write the script.

My go to line when Chinese taxi drivers start preaching about the purity of race and language; Im a scientologist.

Ada kalanya, orang kata, "Ju-lian, kamu ni gemuk sial. Pergi la bersenaman. Jadi kurus sikit." Tetapi, pada masa yang sama, "Oi gemuk, mesti habiskan semua makanan ok? Jangan membazir makanan. Oh...kamu kenyang? Tak apalah..makan saja. Jangan membazir makanan" Bongok macam babi haram saja..

"It's not you, it's me. It's not your fault I find you horrendously boring and ugly to boot."

Progressively boring shorts = end of blog entry # 149.

Wednesday, June 02, 2010

Slipknot/Paul Gray

I guess it's no surprise why I've liked this band since 1999, re various emo posts throughout the years. I'm not afraid to admit. I was an angry teenager, now grown into an angry man child. Slipknot was always there as an outlet I guess. The primordial screams, the relentless barrage of drums and percussion and the mournful and at the same time angry banshee like wails of the guitar, it was the soundtrack to a, upon reflection, teenage era that was wasted on anger and sadness, sometimes untowardly excessive and self inflicting. For a band of 9 to be able to illicit such a strong emotional response in me, it's got to be fucking special. True, the feelings they evoke are usually negative but, like all music, it always helps you get through when someone sings(in this case scream sings, with excessive profanity over a wall of sometimes pure noise) about your problems. About your feelings. There is, for the 3-5 minutes, a brief connection with the music and its maker, and it is that connection from what we perceive with our senses, that makes it easier to get through the shit in life. That is why I still wear my slipknot t-shirts(other than the fact that they're surprisingly really comfortable).

It was with a great and sudden sadness that I received the news of Paul Gray/#2's death on the 24th of May. You would think that, in a band with 9 members, it would be hard to feel sad for the bassist. That's what makes them special. 9. Everyone had a role and they made music that appealed, and still appeals, to me. The death of Paul Gray felt like a distant friend who I quite liked had died. It shocked me, not to the core, but I could feel a small part of me die with the realization that the band that unknowingly helped me in my younger days had lost a vital member, almost like a brother. It matters not how he died. The fact is he is gone, and 9 became 8, and that saddens me. Like I said, this band is special to me.

Rest In Peace, Paul Dedrick Gray / #2. Thank you for the music.

yes you can click it. It's not that "noisy".

Tuesday, May 25, 2010


I remember when I was back in school I used to hate Moral Studies. Other than the obvious reasons of redundancy, I hated Moral Studies especially when they talked about family. Oh how nice, mummy and daddy live together in the same mansion as you. Daddy is an accountant and mummy's a house wife. You went to Melbourne, Australia for your holiday with both your parents and you had a blast and were so thankful for mummy and daddy being able to take you for a holiday. One big fucking happy family. When it came to my turn that was the lie I used. Yes, everything was A-OK at the Teh residence. We all lived together as one big fucking happy family.

I remember the night my dad said he wasn't coming home. We had dinner on a Friday as usual. Just me, sis and him. Mum never went for certain reasons. This particular evening, after dinner, dad didn't drive in. He stopped in front of the house and said "I won't be coming back" or something to that effect. I didn't understand it then. Mum was crying. It was to be revealed later that dad went to live with his other family.

I remember, after kong kong died, the woman asked me why I didn't introduce her to my mom's side of the family come to pay their respects. I tried to be civil for his sake and dodged the question. She persisted. She said "Why, you're scared your mom would be angry at you if you introduced me to your uncle and aunty? Come on la, your parent's are already divorced." It was a good thing I was sitting in the back and it was dark. You couldn't have seen the sheer hatred on my face and the fists clenched so tight it dug into my palm. You didn't say anything. Nothing. And all I could think of was, THIS is what you left us for?

I remember the panic and the fear I experienced when I brought my blood vomiting dog to the vet. I remember the reckless abandonment I drove with when dad called to tell me the situation. He was so weak and he was hardly the dog I knew he was. He was in so much pain and I could do fuckall to help him. By the Grace of God he survived. He was weak but glad to leave the vet. And after everything, what did the woman have to say despite her complete lack of participation in helping my sick dog? "How much was the bill?". It was almost a thousand ringgit. To which she responded, "Wah! Hmmph.. And you wanted a dog somemore la". The fists tightened again, but the face remained neutral. For your sake. Because despite your lack of imparting life lessons to me due to your absence, I was brought up with more tact. And you didn't say a thing. Not in front of her anyway.

I remember on New Year's eve, I thought you would have been happy to know that I manged to save up about 4000 rm from my salary. It was addressed to you, not her. Of course as usual she just had to knock down the legacy that is me, your fucking son. "4000rm only? Huh, you should have saved more. You can use the card to buy groceries and petrol. Your house is all paid up for and so is your car." I didn't ask for her fucking opinion on something that has nothing to do with her. And yet again, you said nothing. Not in front of her again anyway.

I remember, one of the few life lessons that you tried to impart on me. "Be brave in the face of adversity". I try. I really try. I try to be everything that you want me to be despite the mounting adversities. I try to be a good son inspite of everything. I love you despite everything you've done to this family.

Have I failed you yet again?

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Results of Unemployment #3

Being the sort who's unemployed( but not from lack of trying, much) allows one to read a large number of books and movies/shows. Said activities do not in fact bring much in terms of self improvement by learning new skills unless it's a survival/field guide by Bear Grylls (and comes packaged with flash frozen elephant poo and DVD entitled "Wolf shit and other delectable survivor food). Sadly the only pseudo useful book that I have read is Max Brook's Zombie Survival Guide for, you know, defending against the zombie threat. Yeah, you're all laughing now, but we'll see who's laughing when your zombie girlfriend takes oral sex to a whole other painful and decidedly deadly level. But seriously, for a humour book it's pretty well written. So well written that your suspension of disbelief will have you subconsciously going "Head shot kills zombies" and then go "boom, head shot" with your imaginary pistol when you see your nemesis on the street. Do people still use that word anymore in a non fantasy/sci fi context? I know enemy is a fine word, but nemesis just gives it so much more epicness. And I hate the fact that douchbaggy people have annexed the word epic as an adverb/adjective to their douchbaggery. Bastards. I hate you worse than a Scottish man who missed his flight because of Eyjafjallajökull's volcanic ash hates Iceland. Heh...Eyjafjallajökull. It's as fun to write as it is to pronounce.

Going with the theme of the week, God bless American tv. I mean no offense to Spana Jaya or Akademi Fantasia, but we're literally starving for good tv over here. If you look at local tv schedules 60%-75% of the programming's American and/or British. And then you have your Hong Kong drama's which are, surprise surprise, from Hong Kong. Let's just say, since the death of P Ramlee, we havent had anything worth watching on tv that isn't the news and even that's, well, you know. coughpropogandacough. And you're surprised at why Astro is so successful and therefore a monopolizing force in an industry that has no competition to speak off? With the advent of P2P file sharing and the freedom of internet usage(take that China) we(those who are tech savvy enough anyway) are able to indulge in our inner Americana. Currently watching;

Lost *last season. I bet we still won't get it ;

Cougar Town *yes, the name is implies exactly what you think it means, a town infested with mutant mountain cougars who want to take over the state of North Dakota

The Pacific * Band of Brothers in the Pacific. Replace snowy woods and European towns and Germans with islands, rain and Japs. And no, you still won't know who's who once they put their helmets on

Breaking Bad *Meth, meth and more meth. Also some cancer. Set in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Mexicans welcomed, unlike Arizona

Big Bang Theory * sometimes at night, I think Im Sheldon Cooper and say Bazinga repeatedly while wearing my Green Lantern t shirt

You Have been Watching * Charlie Brooker. Enough said

Animated series (it's not CARTOONS) Ugly Americans, The Simpsons, The Boondocks and Seth Macfarlane's evil triumvirate.

Deadliest Warrior. *it is literally the silliest thing on tv now, besides manswers and wipeout. But like all silly shows it has it appeal set in its silliness. Besides, its fun to see machismo at it's best when combined with ballistic gel, blood pack stuffed dummies, and various pig and beef carcasses all for the benefit of seeing who is the most badass. Kinda like high school really.

The Ultimate Fighter * in its 11th season. If you don't know what it is by now you're of the same intellectual and awareness levels as some of our local politicians. Or you just don't like violence. Now run along and go play with your Lil Buddy's First Kitchen Set from Fisher Price. Gordon Ramsay approved.

Spartacus is everything it's hyped to be. Blood, sand and boobs and delectable dialogue such as "Once again the Gods have seen fit to spread cheeks and insert cock", "Jupiter's cock!" and the brilliant back and forth "I'll fuck your corpse" "With what cock?". Rest assured they're not talking about male chickens.

In addition, am eagerly awaiting the season premiers of Californication, Entourage, Futurama, and Sons of Anarchy. I might be missing something here but meh, I'll find out sooner or later.

And, seeing as I have so much free time on hand, I've counted 20 dead singers/band members/artists in my itunes.

Yeap, that's what my life is like now, books, movies and waiting for replies from the 9 or so companies which have my resume but are no doubt playing office basketball with it. Am willing to do odd jobs ranging from security guard/non costumed vigilante to guy who tells you that you look good in EVERYTHING you wear even if it's painfully obvious you look like dried vomit mixed with a little bit of medical waste. Am also sarcastic and cynical enough to fill in for Simon Cowell esque judging duties.

Sunday, May 09, 2010

Results of Unemployment #2

so I came across this last night

Firstly, bravo 13Mordeth. I have a mad non homosexual man crush on him now. Watch his video, he's funny. I also seem to have a sudden affinity with Canadians.

Secondly, while highly commendable, it brings one(i.e. me) to think about the current state of affairs in Malaysia. A cop wouldn't even bother responding to a call regarding dog abuse. "Aiyah, hanya anjing kan? Tak perlu bikin buat report" is how the imaginary though highly probable conversation with our fine men and women of the PDRM would sound like if the actual situation were to happen here, before said servant to the rakyat would promptly share a cigarette with hypothetical dog abuser and tell funny "How many minorities would it take to....." jokes. Neither would there be a fine young upstanding citizen and dog lover to assist another because, a) it's Malaysia and we're a generally apathetic society and b) it's Malaysia. Which is to say, animal abuse in this country is rampant and ambivalent and nothing is being done to address this issue, despite the numerous efforts of Sabrina Yeap and the SPACA and PAWS and the too few genuine dog lovers in Malaysia. Re Rocky, DBKL pound's inhumane methods of pet control, Pulau Ketam, and the many many many other reported and unreported cases of animal abuse. I hope karmic forces transplant you lot into a family guy episode entitled road to the multiverse alternate reality where dogs and humans have a role reversal and they can all dump you on an island and you can all play Survivor human pets sans the off screen buffets and Jeff Probst initiated challenges and the all too real possibility that you might die or resort to cannibalism which, truthfully, would boost ratings. With the snuff aficionado audience range anyway.

Now's the part where I encourage you all to support your local animal welfare centres and NGOs, but then again you're all Malaysian, and an Indian working in Dubai searching for "Indian sex fuck" on google, and one Polish guy who searched for "Kesha's tik tok lyrics+interpretation", Im not going to waste my time. You know the links and the proper channels, you don't need my self righteous ass to tell you what to do.

Oh and yes, I do love trolling around the internet starting random conversations with random strangers on comment sections and chatboxes (Hi Kenny Sia!) with topics ranging from trailer park trash cuisine to hand towel rack proximity and location in one's bathroom.

Monday, May 03, 2010

Home or something like it

reedited to be more emo than originally intended. you have been forewarned.

Unless you have the perception and observation skills of a zombie who's brain has rotted due to exposure to the elements, yes Im back in Malaysia. I won't say that I'm glad to be back. I mean yeah, I'm on familiar grounds again, with familiar faces and a familiar routine. And I'm beginning to hate it. I hate the weather, the not quite adequate internet speed and a very very limited cable/satellite tv channel selection that really doesn't have to give a damn about paying customers and are free to charge whatever they want because of a lack of competition, i.e. a fucking monopoly. I also hate the fact that I'm not adjusting to well to the hermit, independent lifestyle which I had before I left. The whole bills and general household upkeep bullshit which I was free of for a blissful 1 1/2 months. But, life goes on I suppose. It has to.

Yeah, I think it's safe to admit it now. I miss my mom. A lot. I actually cried when I heard her voice on the phone, despite telling myself before that I wouldn't. I don't know why. I guess, after not seeing her for a couple of years, spending all that time with her, I felt that maternal connection that I missed all those years just come back again. I was just so used to doing without, it's just a shock to the system, and now that it's gone again, I feel nothing but a big empty void. And that brings me to tears. Shit, even as I type I can feel that lump in my throat and the welling up of tears. I just really miss my mom... I miss the lost years of coming home to see my mom cooking mee siam because she knows its my favourite. I miss the fact that she used to send and pick me up from school and always told me she loved me no matter how much of a bastard brat I was being that given day. I miss her ability to inadvertently or not, make me laugh, sometimes at her, or with her, but regardless she made me laugh. I missed how she used to, and still does, move heaven and earth to make me happy, whether as a snot nosed kid or today as a emotionally fragile manchild. I miss her reassurances that everything's going to be ok and that how everything she has ever done, fucked up divorce and a cheating husband, inevitable difficulties and uncertainties at moving and settling in a new country and all, everything was and always will be done in the best interest of her children. I hate how much of a bastard I can be to her because I just can't deal with my emotions and take it out on her. And she still loves me inspite and despite all the bullshit I've done that would have made mothers made of lesser steel lift their arms up to the heavens and curse them for such an ungrateful child. I know it's a little early now, a week actually, but I just wanted to wish you Happy Mother's day mom. I miss you and love you.

In connection to that, I've tried to hide these feelings, show that I'm a big man, that I'm not the emotional train wreck that I so clearly am. And I fear civil and ofttimes heart warming gestures with an old and dear acquaintance have been irrevocably damaged again, and it may be that the path to redemption or something like it has been lost forever, despite bridges that had been so lovingly restored, only to be crushed in the violent and capricious tempest that is my character flaw in being, as she termed it, sticky to the point annoyance. It was, in the end a facade behind a facade. I countered, jousted and brought that mistakenly assumed intelligent mind to fore in the fare thee well speech, in an effort to seem less sticky, annoying and above all clingy, to show that I've changed, that I'm not the man she knew all through all those 10 years. I was trying so hard that I inevitably became everything that I dreaded to become. I was needier than ever. I hid the underlying cause of simply wanting a shoulder to cry on, as I've done on countless occasions for her, though she seems to forget this, or rather, thinks my flaws far outweigh those occasions of tenderness and support. Plain fact of the matter is, I was wrong. My defenses crumbled, my own motto Veritas Nunquam Perit and Quarae Verum were lost in a speech that was impassioned for all the wrong reasons. Yes, I deserved to get slapped with my own words. It seems the adage "The road to hell is paved with good intentions" rang and rung in a crushing crescendo in a domino effect that is my loosing control of my emotions and the shit hitting the fan. I don't know what happens now. I don't even know myself.

Rest assured I've cried more times than I can remember just writing this damn post.

All is dust..

Monday, April 26, 2010

Americana #7

Well, this is the last post from America. Oddly I don't feel all that sad about leaving. Oh sure, I'll miss good ol' American tv and internet. I'll miss the food which, sadly, has contributed to a less than massive more than slight weight gain in the past month and a half. I'll miss the mostly friendly Americans and how easy it is to talk to them. I'll miss the weather. Any weather that makes one wear a coat a majority of the time one is outdoors is a positive in my climate book. And last but certainly not least, I'll miss my mom.

This trip, sad to say, has lost it's edge slightly over the last trip. For one I didn't travel as much, besides Pala Casino. I was sadly unable to fill my bag with MMA apparel as I initially planned to, but well, no big deal. Same thing with the books and my mostly biased opinion that with the exception of Kinokuniya, Malaysia has shit bookstores still stands. We're just not a culture who're into books that much. I have a somewhat excited yet uncertain and perdition filled feelings about my future employment once I arrive home but I'm not that worried. I'm not unemployable. I'm just picky. For my sake or others, that is yet to have been decided.

American tv has rotted my brain. I can hardly think of a more interesting way to end this Americana series from Ju-Rants and yet all im concerned about is The Pacific episode 7's download progress. And in a way, I guess that what this whole trip was about. Living the American dream of having the ability to laze in the decadence that is the advancement of the American culture, lifestyle and technology and it's impact on the rest of us. I have enjoyed, savored and reveled in the Bacchusian like sedentary that is Americana and yet, I have had my fill of locusts. That's what this trip has taught me; I can have all this if I work hard and bring in the cheddar( slang for money. See also, moolah, bread, greens, dough, lolly,dosh, spondullas, dead presidents and clams)

So in the end, my epiphany was the very same one that inspired the first settlers in America and made it the nation that it is today. The pursuit of happiness. Ok well technically it was in the Declaration of Independence but I would like to think that the settlers felt the same way as well. Damn you History Channel...

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Americana #6

Ipad. Seen it, fondled it, used the free apps and made that mexican man wait for the longest time for me to be done with my free demo unit. There are other demo units as well Jose..

Briefly stepped into Hooters for potential gift buying, only to find that it had the same effect on me as it did 2 years ago wherein my field of vision tends to go about 30-45 degrees lower and my words tend to come out garbled when the staff there interact with me. I can't for the life of me imagine why...

Had a white lady and her little chihuahua come up to me while I was smoking outside the house and say "It's good of you smoke outside the house". I could not tell if she was being sarcastic or not. Her little dog smelled my Malaysian feet and wagged her non existent tail. I guess we know where residual sambal goes...

"How ya doing" is the American equivalent of the English "You'realright?"(Its not a typo. Thats how you pronounce it, as one word). No reply is expected or acceptable other than "Good" or "How ya doing" back. They do not want to hear your life story when you reply "I'm not good because.....".

Was mistaken for a Vietnamese outside Vietnamese restaurant. Be amazed at my non American accented but nonetheless fluent English....

Comparative to most Caucasian males over age 30, I look like a fitness instructor. Against contemporary youths and other Asians, not so much. Cover story, if ever asked, is that I'm an ex sumo champion from Malaysia that had to retire due to injury *cue fake limping. Marvel at my little than above average height and build little Asians of pure Asian and not mixed blood heritage...

Reluctantly hung out with mom listening to popular American music played by live band at a mall outdoors in somewhat cold weather while watching baseball game through Iphone. Saw old lady reenact her Woodstock flower power glory days moves. Funky.... Saw a somewhat slow to react boy in glasses attempting to dance to said music but only managed to shake toy in hand in what I must imagine he must be imagining is a tambourine. Eavesdropped and found out he was special. Not judgmental...

Have been semi forced to watch dancing with the stars. It bores me. I hope Kate Goslin goes out next. Go back to being an octo mom...

Should be reviewer for American tv shows with Malaysian perspective. However, would be encouraging more pirated downloads of said tv shows since censorship board in Malaysia has ass that's tighter than a seahorse's. Will consider further...

Mom pronounces Penelope as the way one would pronounce antelope. Please laugh after saying that out loud or in your head...

Writing in both first and third person. Don't know why...

No links, no pictures,no songs. End...

Post script; interestingly " ... " denotes that the speaker has let his voice trail off, as though he were leaving something unsaid. or a long pause. or an interruption. and no, "..." = not a face.

Thursday, April 08, 2010

Americana #5.5

One thing I do in fact find endearing about Americans is that they never seem to be an inhibited bunch. I don't mean they're the type who go around saying "Fuck your mom" all the time, but they'll pretty much say whatever it is they're thinking about you straight to your face. And it's funny as hell, deliciously more so when used with American sarcasm. I used to think that American humour was a poor and slightly less funnier than the dry sarcastic wit that is their English cousins, but Americans are certainly funny in their own way. I don't know the number of times I've actually laughed inside quietly, or LIQ, the antithesis to LOL, after eavesdropping on the natives. I mean granted, not everyone's a gem (eg. fuck your mom) but the clever and funny one's outweigh the stupid "That's what American's are known for" humour. They are, in fact, funny people. But I don't see why that should be surprising. Hollywood has flooded the market with this American brand of humour and everyone seems to love it as evidenced by enthusiastic audience laughter at the cinema( including that over enthusiastic audience member who wheezes his laughs and claps his hands or slaps his knees or impersonates the wicked witch of the west. I'm looking at you Arvinda Kumar a/l Asokkumarran...) and yet, you find that there are people( a lot of people surprisingly) who love to give the whole "Stupid ignorant Americans" or something to that extent speech like it's going out of style. Hypocritical as that may be, maybe one should look in the mirror before passing judgement. I doubt people realize that stupidity is not race or nationality centric. It's just that, due to the uninhibited nature of the Americans as stated above, their stupid one's seem to stand out more than the rest of us. Or ignorance. Just another form of stupidity that's not nation/race centred. Then again, I have my doubts at times and do wonder if the stupid people are really in charge as evidenced by The Hills, Jersey Shore and Jerry Springer. Im not saying I should be forgetting my roots. Hell no, Im Malaysian through and through (note, I said Malaysian, not Chinese first, Malaysian second, American lover third, Porn Aficionado fourth, Neurotic fifth, Scared of Driving sixth, non practicing church attending Christian seventh, middle class bourgeois eighth.....yeah this is keep going to go on and on...). I love my country, but I, like a major majority of the world except North Korea, Kyrgyzstan and everybody's best friend, the region of the Middle East, prefer a big ol' of Americana most of the time because, quite frankly, it's simply just better.

Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Americana #5

So, unless you live under a rock, don't have any access to media or like me, at times, are just too apathetic to give a shit about various world news and events, which I can totally relate to so it's cool, you would have known that there was an earthquake in Baja which is kinda close to where I am right now, or close enough in earthquake terms as to be able to feel the ground shift beneath my feet. So, as per dear sister's wishes, I'm supposed to give my thought process and describe my experience during the "all too horrible" 20 seconds that broke my earthquake exposure virginity. Yeah, 20 seconds. I feel like one of those guys who briefly touched a celeb and didn't realize it till the next day when you're on TMZ as background guy looking confused #2

So there I was discreetly watching internet porn chatting, watching videos and doing general online stuff, when I suddenly felt the ground lurch beneath me. At first I thought I was having a really bad headache, the room spinning and being unstable and all that. The various knick knacks on the shelves started to shake as well. What actually cinched it for me was the fact that the light fixture, in all its semi-mini chandelier like glory started to swing on it's own accord. And how did I greet this first experience with mother nature on bitch mode? With a half question/half stating the obvious expression of "Earthquake....?". At that point the ground lurched again, this time almost expelling me from the chair and the first thing I did was run like a little girl briskly walk towards the closes archway. Hiding under the table was not an option as it was made of glass. Despite popular belief, there was no ominous rumbling as Hollywood has repeatedly shown us in films such as Earthquake, Earthquake 2: Rumble harder, Earthquake 3: The final rumble and its spinoff, Aftershock: The aftermath. And 2012 as well I suppose. It was more akin to experiencing bad turbulence on the plane except you're on the ground, which should up the terror level quite a bit. So there I was, standing in an archway, looking at the swinging light fixture, listening to glasses clink and furniture creak. And then it stopped. Just like that. Like a hot date who has prematurely cummed and out of embarrassment covered their shame and left in hurry. Girls can cum prematurely too btw, you sexist. So what would one do post earthquake? Well, in this great modern(some would say post modern, though till this day I have no fucking idea what that means) day and age the first thing I did was check twitter feeds to make sure that I wasn't the only going through a Motion Master at Gentingesque experience through inadvertent consumption of PCP and other hallucinogens. Suffice to say, I wasn't. The next step in the guide to media awareness for the new 21st century man? CNN of course, with their up to the minute report and "breaking news", which basically consists of them saying, basically, "we don't know what's happening, all we know is there's been an earthquake. Oh look, amateur footage of people panicking presumably because their fucking house is being shaken up", before segueing to actual news fact by saying its a 7.2 earthquake and they got this from the USGS. So there we were (we being my host and I) standing around, looking at the CNN staff try to make more sense of the "breaking news" all the time wondering if that was just the foreplay to a bigger nature fuck. Fortunately it was not, aside from a small 5 second after shock which put me in the mind of having very bad and uncooked Asian food and imitated hurl like movements in the stomach. Which is to say, yeah, it was that forceful. And I didn't puke, I just said it felt akin to the feeling one had before/during regurgitation. And that was how I lost my earthquake virginity. It was awkward between me and mother nature, like all first times. She rocked my world that's for sure *insert lame earthquake related joke*

In other news, I do not understand Kesha's tik tok. Already with the bad spelling... Further more;

Wake up in the morning feelin like P Diddy
(You wake up feeling like a black man? Or.. is there a more sexual connotation here?)

Put my glasses on, Im out the door, Im gonna hit this city
(You're not going to brush your teeth first?)

Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of jack
(Oh. And with a bottle of jack. Not shot, not a sip, but a whole bottle. I guess it's got alcohol to kill germs so it's cool)

Cause' when I leave for the night I ain't coming back
(Then where will you stay? Oh, friend's house.. ok)

Im talking- pedicure on our toes toes
(Yes I know know, where the fuck else would you get a pedicure?)

Trying on our clothes clothes
Boys blowing up our phones phones
Drop topping - playing our CDs
(Ok so im assuming you're with friends friends now. And you didn't repeat CDs because CDs CDs tak rasa sedap?)

Pulling up to parties
Trying to get a little bit tipsy
(Er... didn't you just brush your teeth with bourbon? I think you're way past the tipsy level)

Don't stop make it pop
DJ blow my speakers up (hey, speakers are expensive ok?)
Tonight Imma' fight ( so im assuming you were a participant at those underground fight scenes)
Till we see the sunlight (ok, you woke up in the morning, got a pedicure, tried on your clothes and then listened to your CDs. That takes the whole fucking day?
Tick tock on the clock but the party dont stop (At this point I think time is the least of your concerns)
Woah oh oh oh x2 (Yeah, alcohol sometimes makes one a little bit unsteady)

Ain't got a care in the world but got plenty of beer
Ain't got no money in my pocket but I'm already here
(Look out for this alcohol mixing and drinking over achiever folks..)
Now the dudes lining up because they think we got swagger
(That's not a swagger, that's trying not to fall on your alcohol addled asses)
But we kick them to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger
(Have you seen Mick Jagger lately*? Beer goggles much?)
Im talking about - everybody getting crunk crunk
Boys trying to touch my junk junk
Gonna smack him if he gettin' too drunk drunk
Now now we goin' till they kick us out out
Or the police shut us down down
Police shut us down down
Po Po shut us-
(I have no respect for people who use the word crunk(damn your black soul to hell Justin "Demonicus" Timberlake) or people who have to repeat things twice unless it's a medical condition. And calling the police po po? What is this the early 90s?)

*I know the link has a similar opinion to mine. Now, when there is a quorum of similar thought among the populace, that's what some would call a consensus wouldn't you agree?

Yeah, this is the part of Americana I don't really care much for. Then again, freedom and all that good stuff right?

Wow, aside from the earthquake part, this was pretty damn unoriginal.

Thursday, April 01, 2010

Americana #4

I know its not Friday yet but I'm just really bored right now. And you will forgive me for my lack of interest in Californian real estate principles.

The weather has dropped considerably the past few days. To the oh fuck its cold i need to wear some socks indoors but not long pants because a) im a manly man and b) I don't have any long pants that aren't jeans, levels. With the drop in temperature comes a sudden bout of mini melancholy. I say mini because I get easily distracted by other things and I don't dwell on the subject of my discontent for more than 5 minutes. Fighting (the watching of and not the actual participation), ice hockey, baseball and football seem to provide ample and delightful distractions. That, along with copious amounts of shows such as Lost, the Pacific, Big Bang Theory, The Simpsons, Family Guy, The Cleveland Show, Ugly Americans, Southpark, Justified and, (sigh..) Life Unexpected. I know, I said I wouldn't watch it again, but, shit, I just have to find out what happens in the end. Granted, when the drama starts my mind starts to zone out to my own Ju's cut of how the scene should have gone (Shiri Appleby, 6 years younger, in a bikini) but damn my neurotic need to finish something I always start. Exceptions apply to Heroes post second season and The Sopranos due to lack of availability and aversion to a lack of violence in a mob show. Hey remember the OC? Man, I really wanted to do Mischa Barton. Key word being wanted. Past tense.

I have also rediscovered my lost passion for music, specifically rap pre 50 cent and kanye west and rediscovering oldies. I can't believe I didn't listen to david bowie earlier. Now there was a pioneer in avant garde strangeness. Fuck Lady Gaga. Of course there's also one hit wonder Boston (see below), Journey, Peter Frampton, Jefferson Airplane, so on and so forth. In rap, we have Common, Dr Dre's Chronic, Wu Tang, and 2pac of course. Hell, throw in some Miles Davis while you're at it.

Yeap, thats what its mostly come down to here. Watching shows all day long, when not reading real estate principles or jogging and shadowboxing to the tunes of those listed above. Or eating microwavable Philly Cheesesteaks or left overs which almost always consists of fried rice somehow. Yeap... Living the high life. That's the Real Americana. The ability to make things, intangible or otherwise, that will eventually touch everyone in the world one way or another. Even the penis sheath wearing natives of Papua New Guinea. It will touch us, this foreign but highly entertaining and some might say "awesome" culture, and we will all love, one way or another, despite your denials.

It beats me beating my ______ off (you can fill in the blanks if you want too, or leave as is) .

Regarding post rant #94, yeah we all need to rant once a while. Especially when in the grips of mini melancholy. What? The Pacific didn't download yet, we ran out of cheesesteaks and there weren't any games on tv. Oh yeah.. I could have read something non law related. But still, yeah.. we just need to vent and rant sometimes. And last I recall, its called ju-rants, not ju's big bites of Americana. In pink. And short shorts. I just thought of Perez Hilton and I want to vomit. *Ricky Martin singing "Shake your bon bon" *hurls. Speaking of which, can one work at GLAAD and not be gay? And if being gay was a prerequisite, wouldn't that be reverse discrimination?

In God's eyes,

everybody's hot,

This world has beauty all through her,

Picture the fattest chick you know,

God would totally do her,

He'd do her all the way,

even call her the next day,

to see how work was going.

Thank you family guy. The song's called (In God's Eyes) Everybody's Hot by Hand full of Peter. You can listen to it here. It's after noble indian chief(which is also a pretty good song).

So, you must be thinking "wah, Ju-lian, how come you can write so much wan ar?". Well, it's basically just shit going on in my head at that exact given time. For eg;

Mila Kunis --> Hot--> Forgetting Sarah Marshall-->Judd Apatow-->Superbad--> McLovin'-->Christopher Mintz-Plasse-->funny surname-->Kickass-->Comic-->Upcoming movie-->How to train your Dragon-->3d--> Dudley Death Drop-->Tables-->KFC-->hungry

yeah, thats just an example of my thought process. How i got through Law school I'll never know.

Giggaty. You should get a prize for getting to the end of that load of crap. Fresh salmon?

More Than a Feeling

I looked out this morning and the sun was gone
Turned on some music to start my day
I lost myself in a familiar song
I closed my eyes and I slipped away

It's more than a feeling (more than a feeling)
When I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
'till I see Marianne walk away
I see my Marianne walkin' away

So many people have come and gone
Their faces fade as the years go by
Yet I still recall as I wander on
as clear as the sun in the summer sky

It's more than a feeling (more than a feeling)
When I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
'till I see Marianne walk away
I see my Marianne walkin' away

When I'm tired and thinking cold
I hide in my music, forget the day
and dream of a girl I used to know
I closed my eyes and she slipped away
She slipped away

It's more than a feeling (more than a feeling)
When I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
'till I see Marianne walk away

Been hearing this fucking song all day. On the radio, on Scrubs, on Pechanga's ad, while watching "The men who stare at goats", the Sopranos.

Yeah, I know a few who slipped away as well.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

re deleted post/ rant #94

So i wrote an allegory here earlier. and decided to delete it. why, you may ask? because it was an affirmation that i was still weak willed about certain issues when i promised myself that I wouldnt be. writing that allegory, while some have said was well written, did not best suit the mood nor the optimum level of mental fortitude I would wish to have at this current time. furthermore, as mentioned earlier, it was a testament to how little I've changed. No, I don't want it published. And there's no point asking me about what it was. If I wanted to tell you it would have been published in the first place anyway

So what now? The midweek review? Bah, nothing is going on. I don't really give a damn about earth hour or how I'm supposedly cutting down my carbon emissions for a whole fucking hour. You want to save the earth? Go fucking live in a communal village in the fucking jungle and dont have any fucking kids. What's the answer to solving the carbon emission problem? Anal sex. Seriously, having kids increases your carbon emissions more than driving a humvee to work everyday. Stop trying to be a douchebag earth warrior and call the rest of us assholes for not doing enough for the planet. Let them who is without douchbagness cast the first fucking earth friendly stone. Hippie assholes. Go ahead and drive your eco friendly Prius and try to break already.

Furthermore, fuck you firefox. Smoother and more secure internet surfing my ass hairs. This is the third time trying to write this rant. What the fuck are you doing with those error reports anyway? Building an effigy of the consumers that you so lovingly fuck over so you can burn them in a symbolic gesture? Printing them out and then making them into paper balls for the office inter-departmental wastepaperbasketball tournament? Giving them to office weirdo Jim so he can jack off on customer complaints? Giving them to Mitchell Baker's kids so they can build paper forts and play Gondor vs Mordor in Conference Room B? I'm probably right on one of those counts so fuck you all the same

The only thing I'm not angry at is Lost. No no, dear Lost, I can never get angry at you. I'll love you, love child of J.J Abrams, no matter how confusing or draggy or nonsensical your storyline gets. I'm also not angry at Tom Hanks. I love you Mr Hanks because you were The Money Pit, Big, Philadelphia, Forrest Gump, Sleepless in Seattle, Joe vs the Volcano, Apollo 13 That thing you Do, Saving Private Ryan, You've got mail, The Green Mile, Castaway, Catch me if you can, The Terminal, Charlie Wilson's war, your honey ambrosia like voice in both Toy Stories, your producer roles in Band of Brothers and the Pacific. Yeah, I know you've made tons more, but I like you best in these movies and off screen roles. No, I hated the Davinci code because I hate Dan Brown. Though surprisingly I thought of you when I read the book out of sheer curiosity of the hype. If I could Ricky Martin it I did have mad man love for you. But since im not Ricky Martin-ing it, I appreciate your works sir.

I'm also somehow not angry at Jim Carey, despite watching the Majestic and The number 23.

Read Kickass and then watch the movie. I command it.

Allegory, or How I tried to write a children's story

Allegory : an expressive style that uses fictional characters and events to describe some subject by suggestive resemblances; an extended metaphor. 2:fable: a short moral story (often with animal characters)

Marcella was a bubbly sparrow. She spent her days flitting about from tree to tree, picking berries and fruits to fill her hungry stomach. Some day's she would prefer berries over the fruits, some times she would prefer the fruits over the berries. It always depended on what she could find that day, or sometimes she followed her taste. Sometimes it was a combination of the two. Oftentimes, some of the berries and fruits that she ate would make her sick, and would lie in her nest with a terrible tummy ache. She would swear off the berry or the fruit that made her sick that day, and would only ever eat one or the other for a length of time. One day, she met James, a sallow and sullen faced vulture with a less than bubbly predisposition. James was not liked for his nature, being that he had an ugly face and and was generally a harbinger of very bad things. His lot in life made him sad, for though he was a vulture, he had a heart of gold and longed to be in the company of other birds.

James met Marcella one day while she was flitting through the woods. At first he was reluctant to approach her due to his visage. Marcella was not afraid of him however and playfully flew circles around him and nipped him in his wings. She sang him songs which made him happy to hear. James had not experienced such feelings of affection before, and spread his wings to fly with Marcella. He would pick only berries for her, seeing as that was her favorite at the time. He picked the best berries, the most sumptuous kind. He did not take any for himself as he did not like berries but gave them all to Marcella as he did not want her to go hungry. And for a time, it was good, both sparrow and vulture flying about in the air, without a care in the world

One day James brought Marcella some blueberries which were her favorite. Or so she had told him. She did not want to eat his blueberries but wanted fruit instead. James could not find the fruit that she wanted and Marcella, seeing that James could not provide, flew to be with another Sparrow who had fruit and sang different songs for that sparrow. James was heartbroken, and he promptly flew alone, in search of the dying, as nature had warranted him to do so.

James had not seen Marcella for a long time. He had not forgotten her however. And he missed her singing. One day, while flying past the spot they met, he saw her again. She had a tummy ache again. She said she had eaten a lot of fruits and that they made her sick. She looked sadly at James and asked if he had any berries with him, for she was hungry for berries again. James had taken pity on her and plucked for her the blueberries that she had rejected earlier. She ate the berries and she was well again. However, James had grown even more sallow and gaunt while they were apart, and he stank of dead meat and carcass. Marcella did not want to be with him and although she was thankful for the berries, she flew off again.

James was by now a full fledged vulture, he disregarded other birds and he only ate the dead. He was shunned by the other birds and he in kind them. He hung around with his other vultures, looking for the dead, or if nature were particularly cruel, the dying and watched and laughed as they fell dead, for he could now eat them.

One day while lazing in the sun, James saw Marcella try to eat a berry. However the berry tasted sour and she spat the berry out. She flew around trying to find another berry to eat but could not find any. Then she spotted James and flew to him. She pecked his wings again playfully and asked if he again had any berries. James, his vulture heart empty but for that tiny spot for Marcella, said he did not but would find for her if she waited. Marcelle hopped and chirped happily for James' berries and promised to wait for him. She sang him the songs that he loved to hear. James flew very far to get Marcella the berries, for though he did not want to admit it, he was still very affectionate for Marcella and wanted to get the best berries for her. He wanted to hear her singing again. When he found the berries James flew back to where Marcella promised to wait for him but she was gone. At that moment, a hunter saw James and shot him out of the sky.

One day Marcella was looking for berries again but could not find any. She did not want fruit as the last one she had had given her a very bad tummy ache. She thought of James, how he had always brought her the yummiest berries. She flew around for hours, looking for James, but she could not find him. She looked around desperately for him, singing songs that he liked, chirping his name again and again. But alas she could not find him. She began to lose hope when she suddenly saw some berries on the grown. She was so hungry and swooped down to get them, but when she did a net dropped on her and she could not fly away. She was kept in darkness for a long time, given only seeds and powdered berries to eat. When she finally saw light again, she was in a cage, with curious human eyes about her. They pushed the caged and shouted at her to sing. She was sad. Her freedom was lost, her berries were lost. Her James was gone. She sang sad songs from then on.

Story is not based on any one person, but a composite of many.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Americana #3

so yeah, don't mind the nerd shrine over on the right. It's something I started a while back as a way to catalog my books and they've only just started offering this put it on your blog feature so we Shelfari users can lord it over you over how many book's we've read. Ok fine, that's not in the memo and certainly not my intention. I just wanted to try it out to see how it looks and cousin, it looks good. Yes, you can help yourself to my books, just make sure you return it. That's what I like about Shelfari, it lets you catalog what you already have, what you're reading and what you plan to read, in addition to comments from you and the community, reviews and discussions, lets you know who you've loaned your book to and when it's due, if at all, what edition, and a nifty virtual shelf. It looks bigger on my Shelfari page. So yeah... shameless plug for Shelfari. You know I like something when I saw it 4 times AND link it. pussypussypussypussy (SFW)

So what happened this week? Nothing much actually. I mean, look at the previous posts. The only highlight was mom's birthday which was celebrated here .Good teppanyaki. I watched Jon Jones beat up Brandon Vera. And..that was the only thing of note this week.

On another note, regarding Americana, I've come to detest Life Unexpected. It's a misleading title. I expect to be engaged in another overly emotional and despair ridden crisis filled episode each and every week. I mean, yes, I know its a drama( it claims some elements of comedy as well, but really, that would be pushing the limits on the term "comedy") and yes, no drama, no fun and hence the redundancy, but shit, there's drama, and there's Life Unexpected drama. If I lived one second of the lives the characters, I did already kill myself. Especially the two main female cast. I'm not being misogynistic here, but damn, the amount of shit they go through... I think the show runners are the ones being misogynistic. And, unlike Lost where, like the characters, if you just persevere, things will eventually become clear, Life Unexpected just wants you to hang yourself. It is that emotionally charged. And Shiri Appleby, my alien lover from Roswell, what the hell happened? I mean, I knew you aged but... wow... If it was the intention of the makeup crew then yes, good job. But if not... I used to watch Roswell for you and for you only! Ok fine, I maybe over exaggerating on the uber emo drama,(not the Roswell part, I watched that motherfucker just for Shiri Appleby/Liz Parker) but it really is rather emotional. It's like my take on 500 days of summer, too real to be good. Im already emoness personified, so why would I want to watch a show thats playing on my character flaw? I don't know, I'm not TV guide columnist. Im just some guy with a blog. Watch it if you want to. The production value wasn't as bad as 500 days of summer, and not as neurotic. But the story..'s mandatory for someone to cry on the show every episode. Or stalk away in anger. Or shout. Or brood. Or look crestfallen. Yeah ok enough. watch it if you want.

Oh.. and I actually watched my tv shows on premier night. As in I didn't have to wait for 2-3 days before it becomes available online for download. Fucking awesometh(Joyce's word, I'm just the endorsing it).

How am I doing emotionally? Kinda like someone on a drug habit who's trying to quit. Trying real hard. But just can't help himself sometimes. Re Jason Mewes. He give me hope though. One day, one day "I don't gotta live like that no more". If you're interested in knowing more about Mr Mewes, click on the links and find out more. If you don't know how to get the rest of the story (or are too lazy to utilize the vast resources that is the internet or the on hand search engine) well, you're missing out on a great inspirational piece. Fine, you can leave me a comment.

I love America but I miss Malaysia. Isn't that fucked up now?

Thursday, March 25, 2010


I've come to notice a lot of my mom in me. We're both paranoid people, I just have mine more under control(I think. Am I? Really?Oh... guess not). We're both sometimes (me more so) emotional to the point of absurdity. We both have really bizarre notions of how things are and should be in life. We're both really passionate people about thing's we believe in, but are just apathetic to the point of cruelty about things we couldn't care less about. We've both loved and lost and been treated cruelly by the unfaithful. We try to be optimistic about things, but we know it's ultimately useless so we're both somewhat indifferent to things lest we get hurt by them, that's why we both love money, because money's indifferent. Well, my mom has a more outward display of it than me anyway. We're both scatterbrains at times, though I think I deal with this better through my order through chaos theory. Last but not least, my mom and I are both well traveled on the road to hell that's paved with good intentions. We do things that hurt people, annoy them, make them angry..... but it was never ever our intention to do so.

Happy 57th Birthday Mom. I love you.

Yes yes I know. We're colour coordinated.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Americana #2.5.2/Lonely Day

Im taking the more personal and literal meaning. FML, is what the cool kids say today. I'll break the mold and say it sans the abbreviation. Forty Missiles Launched. Im jonesing for a fuck. Or failing that, a non dysfunctional relationship with just about anyone.

Happy Birthday Mom.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Americana #2.5

so one of the benefits of listening to the oldies channel is getting to hear the good old stuff from yesteryear with good memories attached. There was one song however that really doesn't bring any memories, but I do remember liking this song very much when I was a kid though I never really understood what it was about. Then I watched Dirty Dancing a few years back (give me a break ok? It was UK and it was cold and it was lonely and it was one of the few shows I could stream... in all its 25 parts) and I sorta got what it meant. Anyway here's Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen

Well, from what I can fathom, the song basically sanctions stalker eyes right? Or that you can basically have eye sex with someone, which may or may not be consensual? I mean, yeah we all do it but it's kinda taboo isnt it? Unless you're getting eye fucked(haha.. not literally...ewww) by the right kind of person where eye fucking might eventually progress to proper fucking, then the sounds of "stalker/pervert/stalker pervert" ring loud in the streets. So yes, good on you Eric Carmen, for saying its ok to undress someone with your eyes and then proceed to fuck them in your mind's eyes where you're now wearing a chinese sam fu and she a cheong sam and you're going at it doggy style on the table and you're shouting "GONG XI FA CAI!". Yeah. I have an overly active, if not horny, mind. What? I've been single for like 6 years ok? People have committed suicide for less (I'm looking at you Angela from Family Guy).

Nobody puts Baby in the corner!

p.s if we had more female sax players like in the video, the saxophone would be a very, very ,very popular musical instrument.

p.p.s RIP Patrick Swayze.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Americana #2

So the sister has left. Again. Yeah, I do miss her. I mean don't get me wrong, I love my mom and all, but it's pretty hard to talk to her about contemporary issues affecting 20 something year olds. On the flipside, at least there's one less overbearing dominant "insistent" female in the house. Sorry chi, but you are.

Last week was uneventful to say the least, other than the fact that I'm now smoking 1-2 cigarettes a day now as compared to 20-25 a day previously. Withdrawal symptoms suck. In relation to this, jogging has become in vogue now and residents at my mom's housing complex can see a slightly overweight acne ridden sweaty chinaman lumbering past them with laboured breaths every late morning. Enjoy your soy milk lattes and granola bars peeps.

In and Out, how I love thee. Let me count the ways, your awesome burger meat that's got that unexplainable "rightness" to it. Your secret sauce that's sinful and well... secret like an affair with the principal's hot milf wife, if that could be a taste. Your buns... so soft yet firm, reminiscent of the other kind of non gluten containing bun. Together with you just there for presentation vegetables and your delectable fries(so much more sexier if done animal style), you are, quite simply, the best burger I ever had and I want to marry you and have little burger baby sliders with you.

The girl replied. I haven't. I don't know what to say. She lives like 5 minutes away from my place and we end up meeting halfway across the world.

I also got my fight shorts. =) the same kind worn by rampage jackson when he knocked out wanderlei silva. =) =) and i got it at a sale. =) =) =)

Tomorrow, off to the Indian Reservation of Pala to pay for the white man's sins against the Native Americans by gambling in their casinos that has been approved by the pale face's government as a way of reparation without direct involvement. That's where us Asians and our predilection to gambling comes in.

I was talking about how a love marriage is overrated and doomed to failure in exceeding rates with my mom and she agreed. Fuck love. Lets all just procreate and stay together for a conventional family unit that may or may not have economical benefits to us and to which we may or may not fall in love with one another. Save your feelings for the dog and various sports teams.

So this bear was chasing this atheist through the forest. In his desperation, he called out for God. God appeared and the atheist pleaded with him to save his life. God replied that it was impossible since he did not believe in Him. The atheist got a bright idea and asked God to turn the bear into a Christian. The bear stopped and proceed to say Grace before eating the atheist. (you heard this before chi. so no need to comment on this)

check next week for ju-rants in Americana #3

Friday, March 12, 2010

Americana #1

Im not blogging because I've had nothing to blog about. Yes, even if I'm in the States. It's cold and the weather is not doing my less than sunny disposition any good. Sure, there are other personal/family factors as well, but I like to keep our dirty linen in the bottom of the laundry basket. I guess that whole yoke leng thing affected me more than i initially thought it did. I'm this close to blocking her on msn.. what with her fucking chicken soup for the soul quotes and random hunky dory song lyrics by teeny boopers. I hate her...And I accidentally liked(as in, clicked on "like" when I intended not to and to "unlike" it would prove that Im just being a stalking asshole..... damn you facebook social protocol) your facebook status. In fact I just think you're full of shit, as usual.

Malaysia can suck slow internet cock and gargle its low bandwith/speed cum. Im getting download speeds of 1000 kbps and higher here. And streaming? What streaming? More like instant ejaculation from sex with too hot to be true prostitute the moment she inserts your penis in her love hole. Not that I have any experience of course, other than visual masturbatory aids. What I'm tying to say is that the internet in the States is fast.

I met a girl . At the airport. While waiting to clear customs. Had the balls to ask for her email, got pseudo business card instead. Will report further developments, if any.

I've been in a funk since I left KL and I don't know why. I think in the end it boils down to the fact that Im just fucking aimless right now. I dont know what I want to do and I scared that I'll never find out. Fuck girls.. I'll just have sex with a prostitute for sexual gratification and get a dog for companionship. I've been meaning to take this opportunity to clear my mind and think about what to do with the future but, things have not gone as expected due to the weather and other related complications as mentioned above playing with my mindset, or rather, I'm allowing it to. Meh, it's only been a week. maybe next week will get better.

I want this and this. Retail therapy only works partially for guys. In n Out burger however, takes the fucking proverbial cake.

Monday, March 08, 2010

CounterStrike Dreams

I had another dream about you last night. It came to me unbidden and left me completely melancholic and rueful the entire day. We were at a mutual friend's place for dinner. Things were civil i suppose. You stuck to your corner of the room, I stuck to mine. Drink were flowing fast and going down heavy. I suppose it was only a matter of time before we had the dreaded confrontation. As inevitable as the iceberg that sunk the Titanic. What sparked it off I guess was your effeminate boyfriend trying to tell me that he dislikes smokers and people who drink. A drink thrown in the face and the familiar old left jab, right cross and right uppercut quickly ended any friendly debate that we were naught to have. You came running and pushed me away, making me spill my drink. I called you a hypocritical bitch and I guess that's when you started trying to claw my eyes out. More mutual friends and acquaintances pulled off while I smirked at you and shrugged as if to say "Well, if you can't handle the truth..". You called me an inconsiderate fucker and that your ex boyfriend is more than half the man I am. "That's rich," I quipped, "considering the fact that he laid his hands on you". Cue more eye scratching attempts and screaming. I put my hands up and made to leave, disgusted by your out of the ordinary but more than capable antics. You called out " you don't even know me! You assume that I can just fall in love with you? Who the fuck do you think you are?". I turned around, fist bunched up, rage surging and I shouted back "IM THE FUCKING BEST YOU EVER GOT BUT WILL NEVER HAVE! Don't fucking take the high road and label me otherwise all because i got you a fucking book out of the kindness of my heart!". At that point the book magically appeared in her hands and she flung it back at me. Now it was her turn to smirk and shrug. And suddenly the world caved in on me. The friends disappeared, the music stopped playing, the floorboards and the walls faded away like some much wind swept sand. Only you and me were left, you smirking, me, broken. "You bitch" I whispered, my voice barely audible. Tears came unbidden. "You still smirked and said "Goodbye" and then you disappeared as well, and the world finally closed in around me and enveloped me like a dark sea.

Thats when I woke up with my breath caught in my throat. And so began this less than spectacular day.

I hate the fact that you can still upset me and assault my senses even if we were never anything other than comfortable acquaintances. Long may I forget you...

No, this post wasn't about Michelle.

See you in the States

Sunday, March 07, 2010

Delayed alcohol induced headache

yeah, in other words, I have a fucking hangover. Symptoms include headaches , sensitivity to light and noise, lethargy, dysphoria and thirst. Psychological symptoms also include heightened feelings such as depression and anxiety. And in spite of that, here I am blogging. Addressing last night's less than sober and inarticulate post, yeah, I'm not going to take it down. I might be compelled by societal and peer pressure to be apologetic about my drunken verbosity addled by alcohol to be more bellicose and vitriolic, but yeah, I meant what I said albeit in more crude and unrefined terms and I'm not going to apologize for it. Ok, maybe for the abundant and copious amounts of swearing but hey, I was drunk, and curse words tend to flow easier with less inhibitions. Besides last night's post alcohol consumption rant, I just want to mention, in the most implausible, fantastical, impossible, improbable and unlikely event that the hot malay girl with the black jacket,white with dark floral pattern spaghetti/halter top and very complimentary jeans with a belt buckle that incorporates two chrome circles and was unanimously voted as "Best Club Ass 2010" by our expeditionary club hopping party stumbles upon this blog or is already an avid reader(yeah..sure..), thank you for making it a most enjoyable night. You rank second in fun causation factors next to the Vodka.

Oh yes, Im living it up after a week of unemployment and 2 days before I leave for an American sojourn. I don't know why. Its a bit disturbing that I'm reverting back to my younger days where fun needed to be alcohol fueled. But then again, after countless conversations with my sister and dre about my less than spectacular record of being overly emotional about everything, I've decided not to ponder and worry about things that are ultimately out of my hands, and only consider those that are very much within my grasps. And no, I'm not using "big words" to fucking show off. Unbelievable as it may seems, I actually use these words in daily life and yeah, I do know what it means and im pretty sure im using them in their correct context. Most of them anyway.

On the way home last night, as I was closing my eyes and doing the wave thing with my hand outside the window (Re Mukshin by Yasmin Ahmad) this oldie goldie came on the radio and I engaged in pseudo singing slurring. I dont know why but this song just bring me back to a more carefree, admittedly still bittersweet time in my past. Anyway here's Lullaby by Shawn Mullins

yeah I know. It's just lyrics. The original video can't be embedded. If you do indeed want to see the video, click here

Shawn Mullins made the Sawyer from lost look(and voice) popular way before lost ever aired.

(Another) Drunk Post

no, really, I am slightly inebriated. I typed in the incorrect password 5 times before realizing that I was trying to log in to blogger, not my gmail. It must be noted that whatever I will be writing here is done so with my inhibitions waaaay lowered to the point of nonexistence and may in fact be deleted when I eventually wake up in the morning with a hangover but more or less in a sober state of mind. Want to know something even more amazing? I just typed this whole paragraph with my eyes closed because I'm that drunk and I didn't even make a single spelling error as comapred to my more drunken self. Yeah. Thats what im going to do, Im doing to do this entire blog with my eyes closed and just go by feel. Im not even going to edit the mistakes.

You know what? Counterstrike just needs to fucking get off her pedestal. I mean what? Im not good enough for you? QWhy? Because im fat? Exfuckingcuse me, but have you seen your ex? For fucksake I look like a calvin klien underwear model next to him. If you had taken the fucking effort to get to know me better instead of fucking avoiding me all over a fucking book, you would have realized that Im just the best you fucking got. I would never lay a hand on you, never ever make you do things that yhou never wanted t do. I mean fuck, I was willing to fucking drive for you. If you knew me at all you would know that thats already a fucking effort already on my part? What? Don't act all fucking shocked. Everyone's got their own fucking phobia. I just happed to have the most inconvenient one. Better than fucking being afraid to get into the fucking car because there just ahppens to be a baby lizard scurrying around. Or the dark. Or some other fucking mundane shit. You know what? Fuck you. Pretentious confrontation avoiding ivory tower dwelling hypocritical bitch.

Yeah, this isnt going off to a good start. Heh, if you think im fucking emotional when Im sober, you can already fucking tell genius that im more so when im drunk and typing blind and by feel. Its disturbing actually. Not the blind typong. The fucking fact that all I can feel when im drunk is a lot of nger and disappointment. And the melancholy. Fuhgetaboutit. Its a given. They say you're more uninhibited when you're drunk and yeah, Im just saying whatever coes to mind right now. I dont think its fair that wil get a fucking blackberry. I mean, really? do you really need to be fucking conected all the fucking time. I mean for fuckssake, you're just a student. You want to use the internet, gop fucking use a computer with a modem.nIn my fucking day all the phone could do was call and sms and if you were lucky, a camera. Oh, you're bored in between class? Well tough shit, I dealt with it, my seniors fealt with it and dad cerainly dealt with it withoput the fucking need to be connected to the fucking internet all the time. Just like your fucking bitch of a mom, all about the fucking statues symbol. And its not even your fucking money. You havent even earned a fucking dime in your life. Speaking of that bitch, I finally told my dad that i detest her and he said he knows. That was it, no repercussions, no commitment to change, just fucking, I know. Way to fucking confront and handle the situation. But i guess I cant blame you. Your're stucdk. You make your bed you sleep in it as you used to say.

And to you drunk girls, i mean shit, you read about it in the newspapers everyday. rape. you bitch and moan to your women's minister about how its unfair and how victimized you feel. Ever thought of fucking controlling you liquor? Queer as it may sound, a less alcohol addled brain is scientifically proven to keep you safer. I mean fuck, right in front of me, drunk girl trying to get picked up by a black guy. Greasy as fuck taking advantage. But fuck, turn the tables around for a minute. You know these dangers exists and yet you fucking drink yourself to oblivion all in the name of fun. Yeah lets see how fucking fun it is when you fucking get raped get std get pregnant without even knowing who the father is because he just fucked you while you were passed out and hey, welcome to being just another fucking statistic. Yeah i know, not your fault right? You cant help it if you;re fucking attractive with a fuckload of sex appeal but please for one fucking second, use your presumably more mature mind and think about the fucking consequences. Bad people exists in this world and they certainly dont need anymore encouragement from your drunken self to do all kinds of fucked up shit to you. And you fucking assholes who think its ok to fucking take advantage of some drunk girl. fuck you. its somebody;s fucking sister and/or daughter. How would you fucking like it if someone raped your sister/daguther? Unless you've already committed incest you sick fucking pathetic excuse for a human being. You should be killed and your body rendered to nothing more than dust and ash and all traces of you ever being erased from society. We dont want you and we dont need you you fucking parasite. fuck you. Please lar girls.. just fucking take of yourselves. It's alright to have a drink or two, but dont fucking drink yourself to the passing out stage and let yourself be open like a lamb to those fucking predators. You were so fucking lucky that arvind knew you and was able to get you home safe and sound.

yeah thats it for now. im going to go pass out now and wake up with a hangover. this post may or may not still be here once i wake up and find out all the fucking rubbish i've written. but for those of you who read this before semi inevitable deletion of this post, yeah, i can write by feel . I should know, i opened my eyes to click on the publish post button. And thank you for reading my blog.

Friday, March 05, 2010

Links o' rama

So the last post has, after being described to Tupps by me, been described as nothing more than short term jealousy and curiosity. Well, let's hope so. I'm still feeling some after effects of course, but like I said, I'll forget you and your chocolate comment over time. And whether they speak Spanish in Spain, or that one time where you lied to your other friend to get her to come along with you to meet me because you think I'm Ted Bundy incarnate or something. And let's not forget the book incident. Heh.. yeah, I had all the drama with you and we aren't even a couple, let alone close acquaintances. That's like one level below friend, one level above "Shit, I don't remember your name".

To elaborate further on the leaving to the States, well, yeah, I'm leaving to the States for a month or so to visit my mother. Erm... I don't know how else to elaborate that further. I mean, do you want to know my flight details? what are my in-flight entertainment choices? whether I'll be choosing shitty airline fish over shitty airline chicken? what I intend to do at Taoyuan International Airport while in transit? Whether I will say "I'm here to try and stimulate your failing economy" when the Immigration officer asks what is the purpose of my visit? Whether I will in fact visit Hooters again and stare innocuously at "Christy's" very Hooters while she asks me what I'll have to drink? Whether I will reply that I'm from Malaysia when asked where I'm from by random Americans to which they say, with incredulity written on their faces, "Huh... Could have fooled me. I thought you were Chinese!", at which point I have a secret chuckle and wish I had my Malaysian friends with me so we can derisive jokes at them in Bahasa when out of earshot(despite the fact they wouldn't understand a word we're saying), and speaking our national language louder than usual to play the exotic foreigner card in a highly unlikely attempt to score some local Americana tail? Whether I will be getting Cold Stone Ice cream and In n Out Burger and Mexican food which induces gastronomical orgasms that if I were to draw a pornographical analogy, I would be spurting like Cytherea while having a face and body like Maria Ozawa(Yeah, I didn't get that either when I read it back). Whether I will in fact be utilizing local high speed internet to download copious amounts of pirated movies, comics, songs and etc(I have excluded tv series because, well, I'm right at the source aren't I)? Whether I will have the most awesometh time in the States? Nah... you don't want to know all that.

For someone who said they didn't know how to elaborate further about his upcoming trip to the States that whole rhetorical question routine proved me(and hopefully you) wrong huh?

In response to the jumpers and mercenaries leaving PKR:

Ok I tried to put something funny here but copyright being copyright, I wasn't able to do the whole cut and paste/ embed video deal. So, we can do one of two things

a) watch this video and concentrate on 1:47 to 1:50

b) go here

and now imagine these items are here and that they're addressed to said former PKR assholes.. i mean party members. Fuck you very much for screwing over your constituency who had to waste a perfectly good saturday to wait in line with other equally annoyed voters for close to 2 hours to do something that takes about 2 minutes to get you into office. I could have gotten morning sex but nooooooo.... had to do my "civic duty" and vote you assholes into office (note, I'm reiterating an anecdote told me. I couldn't vote since my registration was "not in the system in time" for said elections)

and yes, I do realize that there are a lot of links in here. Besides reassuring you that they're virus free, it's also just me being me. I like to have themes.

Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Failure in Indifference

I tried to be indifferent. Really. I did. I mean, the strikeout rule applied when you implied, intentionally or not, that I'm an irresponsible dog owner by feeding my dog chocolates(for the record I did not and to insinuate that I did is fucking insulting). So why then do I feel a slight tug at my heart strings and a minuscule lump in my throat when I hear that you've found a significant other again? I mean, fuck, I can't imagine myself with you except for that one secret fantasy. My rational non emotional side suggests the Forbidden Fruit/The One that Got Away syndrome, and it's mostly right. However, the over highly emotional side of me is raging away in its solitary confinement cage and I can feel it's rattles reverberate through my very core. I've come to hate the word why myself. Mostly because I can't always get the answer and even if I do, I loathe it. I would like to wish you good luck and have a nice life but I know I'm just really insincere when I say that and that I hope you break up really soon because I'm just that petty. And that scares me. Because I made no effort to make you mine(well I did, but I just couldn't stand your idiocy and your inherent hate of me by avoiding me like a plague and never wanting to meet up with me unless it's with a mutual friend because, you know, I'm a serial stalker and I would likely Jeffery Dahmer you(Im being sarcastic, assholes)). It perplexes me because one moment I'm going "Meh" and the next I'm going "Shit". The fact that you can illicit an emotional response from me when I claimed indifference is just so damn disturbing on my part. So am I over you or not? After leaving the keyboard and taking a long drag from a cigarette, the answer is most definitely not. Oh, I'm sure over time I'll come to forget you and we'll only have conversations along the lines of "Hey, long time no see. How are you doing? I'm good. Having sex like a jack rabbit. You?". Out of sight out of mind they say. It's just fucked up that I can act all indifferent with you but then go all "Oh woe is me" when I hear that you have a boyfriend when I myself was like, heh, no way will I ever be with her. Goddamn these conflicted emotions. Emotions just fuck everything up. So yeah, please allow me, for the moment, to be just a tad melancholic. I'll be fine in a week or so, in LA, by the beach, looking at lovers hold hands and display public displays of affection in the sunset while I light my cigarette and space out into a life that could have been but, like that cigarette, will disappear in a puff of smoke and end in oblivion once I stub it out in a public ashtray, because littering is a public offence in the States. All with a fucking wry smile. *cue big sigh and playing the emo playlist on Itunes

what? a guy can't be emotional and conflicted?