tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-194581692024-03-07T21:54:15.738+08:00ju-rantsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger165125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-44905164488601739162016-04-04T22:44:00.000+08:002016-04-04T22:44:13.784+08:00Lima Peringkat Apologies for the last post's outburst. As you could obviously tell, was not in the best of mental states. Am glad to report that I am somewhat better and I've reached the acceptance stage of grief faster than I thought I would. The depression stage did a real fucking number though.<br />
<br />
Here's what I've accepted:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>M1 was a shitty friend all along and that's a fact. We have met, loved and lost and it's time to move on in life because there is nothing else left between us. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>M2 was my good time girl for which her affections, most probably false, were taken as something, most likely infatuation, to fill the empty void in me because of the intense loneliness I feel from the lack of a romantic companion. We both live different lives and should be free to find our own happiness. Thanks for the memories but one should know when to face reality and cut ones losses. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>I'm severely disappointed with myself for allowing myself to be blinded emotionally and disregarding any shred of common sense and rationality. Will strive to do better in future and maintain more calm and serenity in trying to avoid the pitfalls in life while pursuing happiness. </li>
</ul>
<br />
If any of you have had to deal with depression, and I believe many of you have, you would know that the above is really pretty much an exercise in common sense and being rational and realistic about the facts of life. You would also know however that emotions have a tendency of presenting life in very rose tinted glasses.<br />
<br />
Its been a struggle, of that I can assure you. From the waking nightmares to the lack of appetite and sleep. But talking about it, to anyone, really does help. It really isn't a cliche the <a href="http://www.befrienders.org.my/about.html">Befrienders </a>or some other mental health organization spout to be relevant. So if you know someone who's going through depression, the best you can do is lend an ear. We'll come around eventually, and you'll never know how valuable you've been to us as a pillar to lean on the emotional tempest that we go through.<br />
<br />
I don't have to name names here but to the people who've helped me along the way, I love and thank you for everything. You've given me the will to live again and find happiness. <br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-51196167895347559032016-03-31T03:44:00.002+08:002016-03-31T03:44:38.924+08:00reduxYesterday's affirmations of hope and absolution did not work in the slightest.<br />
<br />
I sunk to a new low today. I called Befrienders . I spoke to Ashley. She said its because I'm feeling abandoned and worthless. How astute. I could have told you that Ashley. I must admit, that it felt good to talk about it to a complete stranger. But the good feels only lasted for like less than an hour.<br />
<br />
I couldn't sleep. Try as I might it was basically me staring into darkness. Mind racing. Thoughts of her and her. I'm a selfish cunt. I want what others have. And when I don't get them I get all petulant. And for what? Two people who only have temporary permanence in my life? Both of them aren't even in the same country for God's sake. They don't owe me shit.<br />
<br />
Why? Why? Why do I feel this way? It's fucking driving me nuts.<br />
<br />
I must resolve to forget them. Forge ahead.<br />
I must resolve to forget them. Forge ahead.<br />
I must resolve to forget them. Forge ahead. <br />
I must resolve to forget them. Forge ahead.<br />
<br />
Why? I'm supposed to be stronger than this goddamn it. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-4514315393686711702016-03-30T01:48:00.002+08:002016-03-31T03:44:57.410+08:00The ProfessionBeing selfish, I've been told, is not one of the qualities which I'm known for. Those who say that, in retrospect, have not seen how I'm terribly selfish emotionally.<br />
<br />
This is the story of the other M:<br />
<br />
The Other M (henceforth M2) is my part time lover. When I say that, I mean I'm only in love with her when I'm on the Island. And quite possibly for a month or two after I have departed the Island. And then, inevitably and because of the distance and difference in mindsets, we drift apart again. Until I return to the Island and we start over again.<br />
<br />
I met M2 on my second time on the Island. She approached me in a crowded bar, as you do, and I haven't been able to forget her since then. Of the time I spent there on the second trip, I was with her for most of the nights. It was a transaction that became way too personal. I still can't explain the attraction there was between us, but attraction there was, genuine or otherwise.<br />
<br />
I left the island in an M2-induced haze. You could say the sex was good, but I have before and since had way better. There was something about her I can't quite describe but there it was. In the months after I left the Island we kept in touch. Then she asked me for money with a sob story.<br />
<br />
If you know me, that will do it. Off to Western Union we go. We kept talking after that, mostly sweet nothings. Enquiring about mundane shit like whether we have eaten and how our day was. It was a disgustingly domesticated and sordid way of keeping in touch. But we humored each other.<br />
<br />
Then came the day she told me she ran out of money again. Because the trade she was in wasn't doing so well. I preempted it with a firm no. It was not because I was financially in dire straits myself. But it would not stand for her to make it a habit of asking me for money. She said she understood but then promptly sold her phone. Without telling me. I lost her then. And I went on with life with her being a distant but fond memory.<br />
<br />
I returned to the Island recently. I initially had no intention of contacting M2 whatsoever. What were the chances she probably got married off and honoured up by quitting the Profession? I couldn't know that. Plus it's the Island. Looking for companionship is way more easier than it should be. Depending on how much paper you carried in your wallet anyway.<br />
<br />
The first night I was there was a horrible alcohol induced haze of bad decisions and mediocre fucking. Mostly on my temporary companion's part. Maybe mine too. Forgettable to say the least.<br />
<br />
The second night was an absolute bust, and I'm not talking about my nut here. It had more to do with the lack of professionalism with the Professionals in their slightly misconceived notion that only certain nationalities were a good and proper meal ticket.<br />
<br />
The third day, I resolved not to repeat the first two nights' mistakes. I took a chance and looked for M2 on Facebook. Easy enough to find. The hard part would be seeing if she was willing to see her former part time lover again. She was. She would arrive the next day. Well no sense wasting another night just to wheat the appetite. The third night was a repeat of the second night, with fatigue thrown into the mix. It was another bust and I was tired. But no matter. At least the next day would be a sure thing.<br />
<br />
And it was. On the fourth night we rekindled the lost attraction over pizza and beer and sex. It could that I was both emotionally and sexually starved but it was better this time. And not just the sex either. She was more intelligent than I last remembered and she carried herself and her conversations with me well. If you know me, brains on a woman is an extreme turn on. The night ended with the promise of more rekindling the next day.<br />
<br />
On the fourth day, my indiscretion with midday partaking of copious amounts of alcohol left me incapable of meeting with her on this, the last night on the Island. Much to my regret.Here's a tip, don't take tequila. It will fuck you up.<br />
<br />
I left the Island on the fifth day, with me and her saying our goodbyes and promising to keep in touch. As per usual.<br />
<br />
I arrived back to steel and concrete jungle which I call home suffering from Island hangover, and probably M2 hangover as well. How I loathed returning to the shit and skullduggery of my purposeless life as a non-contributing member of society.<br />
<br />
I guess that's why they call it a holiday. You go to forget to your problems and hopefully come back refreshed of body, soul and mind to face them. <br />
<br />
And face them I did. Life was slightly better than it was before I left. I had a job interview lined up. I was losing weight and being relatively healthy, sans smoking habit. I was still in contact with M2, the usual sweet nothings and enquiries of well being. How copacetic.<br />
<br />
Before we continue, I must point out that, at all times, I knew about her Profession. I knew it and I accepted it as part of her life. A means to an end. I understood. I really did. I was not angry that she warmed the bed of other anonymous men. It would be hypocritically of me to judge as I often warm the bed of mostly anonymous women. It's the Profession. <br />
<br />
Then came the day I got my tattoo of Hermes's paw. That odd shaped paw print. I had been planning it for a long time and I finally got it done. Goodbye to working in frontline customer jobs but hello memorial tattoo of my best four legged furry friend/child. The day, as I seemed to recall it, was good. I remember planning out what to say during the job interview and managed to play a bit of Arkham Origins.<br />
<br />
Then, at 3:30 AM, while listening to a Kevin Smith podcast, I got that fateful message from Michelle. You know what happened next.<br />
<br />
What you didn't know was that I, stupidly, looked for some semblance of commiseration with M2. One thing led to another and I discovered her other Facebook page. And she posted a picture of her with some other guy and one picture in particular further inflamed my sense of despair. It was a picture of her holding a ring next to the said guy and saying "I can't wait!".<br />
<br />
I reacted the only was I could. With passive aggressive sardonicism. I congratulated her on her upcoming nuptials. She replied that it was only a joke she wanted to share with her friends. She said she was too young to get married and was still in college anyway. I asked about the guy and she mentioned that he was her current boyfriend. Long distance. Then she said she could never marry, because of the Profession. The guy did not know about her Profession and if he did he would never marry her anyway.<br />
<br />
I didn't know what to make of it. I just accepted it. Because it was then I came to the realization that whatever fucking pretense I was having with and about her was a goddamned lie. A lie that I created. Too soothe my poor, sorry lonesome ego. She was in the profession, I was a Mark. Put aside my delusions of companionship and that's all we really are. She has no obligation whatsoever to cradle and stroke my ego. She should be free to pursue her own happiness, whatever they may be.<br />
<br />
The cold hard truth is this: we can never be more than anything other than part time lovers on the Island.<br />
<br />
In my fragile state of mind that day, I unloaded on her, for once, emotionally rather than physically. And I kept up my delusion for a while like how a junkie takes a hit and promises himself that it's just one last hit to tide him over when he goes to rehab tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Well, tomorrow arrived. She said she would like to keep in touch with me because she liked me and I reciprocated because you never know when I was going back to the Island. Though she doesn't have to know that. <br />
<br />
It tugs my heart ever so faintly but I must learn to face the truth of the matter at hand. She can find her own happiness without me. And I must seek my own.Whatever said and done, we'll always have our moment on the Island.<br />
<br />
I think overall, this tattoo is symbolic of the emotional tribulation I've been through in the last week. It was itching like crazy and now, its starting to peel and it doesn't itch anymore. I'm slowly getting better with the passing of time.<br />
<br />
I will end with one of my favorite quotes : <span dir="rtl" lang="fa"><i> </i>این نیز بگذرد</span><br />
<br />
This too shall pass. <br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-91849936870799739052016-03-28T22:35:00.001+08:002016-03-29T00:27:45.580+08:00Reflection<span style="color: white;">It's been 9 years,3 months and 163 posts. Of those 9 years, I was inactive for 2 years. After the last post I decided to revisit all my posts. This is a bad thing, because I only blog when I'm extremely bored and/or depressed. And currently, I'm both.</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;">Bored because I've currently been without work for the past 9 months though this situation will, hopefully, be remedied in short order following my interview on this coming Thursday with the same company I left 9 months ago. For a lower position and a lower pay. But lower pay is better than no pay. And it will at least allow me to focus on something other than all the negative shit that's been happening lately.</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;">Which brings me to the depression. I've been hiding it for a good while now. Numbing myself in other stimuli like books, movies and games. Anything to distract me from the dreadful knowledge that I lived a life of no purpose, alone. I thought I kept the charade up pretty well. But then the shit went down last week and I guess the facade crumbled away.</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;">It's been 4 days of living in a haze of melancholy. I don't really feel like eating (which has the great short term effect of helping to lose more weight; though in the long run, not really great) and sleep is akin to that of a cheap prostitute you paid for an overnight special but then bails after the 2nd hour. Exercising would have been great, what with all the release of endorphin, but the new tattoo of my dead dog's paw is still healing (and itchy like a crack whore).</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;">Instead I'm spending most of my time awake either being a house steward or, especially in the night, on YouTube, listening to<span style="color: white;"> <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghost_%28Swedish_band%29">Ghost</a> and other assorted metal bands. That's another sign by the way, of my descent into melancholy; incessant listening to metal (my emo rantings aside, you should listen to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-0Ao4t_fe0I&list=PL6S77HDqA7paCzV7344Nr76qWCJDfyXyO">Ghost</a>.Great band). </span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">I suppose I should be grateful that that's the extent of it. Upon reflection of my previous posts through the years, it was quite a more destructive path of copious amounts of booze and cigarettes and the occasional self scarring. I think I've graduated from messed up kid to messed up man-child. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">I've semi-stopped drinking (only on holidays) and I don't self scar unless it's done professionally and with ink. I still smoke like a motherfucker though. More now in fact since I have income. I find I'm not polemically angry (i.e. fuck the world) anymore but more melancholic (i.e. why are things fucked up and why can't I supposedly do anything about it?). Its like anger's lazier, more chilled out, stoner cousin. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">Yeah, I get sad, but I don't feel like slitting my wrists anymore. Work and income and the material things I can buy from said income have helped tremendously in that sense. That's why I didn't blog for over two years. I was working. Living. Semi happy or somewhat content with my lot in life. And now that I no longer have that, I look back at everything and have arrived back at the exact spot which I started. Alone, jobless, purposeless.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">Maybe it's all temporary. Melancholy, happiness. One can't live without being defined by the other. Well, it's melancholy's reign now. After a long time it feels like an old, spiteful friend. Familiar but detested. And, to put it simply, it sucks balls. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">When I first started writing this post I went thorough the other post and I was thinking, fucking hell, nothing about me has changed one bit. Just older. But in the course of writing it, around maybe the 6th paragraph, I realized that it's not all that bad. I will get better eventually. Especially with that job lined up around the corner. I will eventually forget about the <i>casus melancholia, </i>namely the two Ms, and things will get better again. They have to. Otherwise, what the point of it all?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">I find that it's becoming like a litany nowadays. I always have to keep telling myself that things will get better. It's becoming annoying. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="color: white;">In conclusion, listen to <span style="color: white;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQm8Ssh4ynQ">Ghost</a>! And no, I'm not shamelessly plugging for them because I work for them. They've been the soundtrack to my melancholy. And its a damn good soundtrack. </span></span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQm8Ssh4ynQ"><span style="color: white;"> </span></a></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-8838061309848046732016-03-27T02:55:00.002+08:002016-03-27T10:47:14.618+08:00EndIts been 11 years since I started this blog. And before that I had another blog somewhere and I can't even remember the name of the blog host anymore since 2002. I started it as a way to share my feelings. With anyone who was willing to trawl through the wall of text. But, as you can tell, the blog postings became less and less frequent. Life took over. I didn't have time to write or rather share anything. I still have the feels.<br />
<br />
You'd think at 31 life would just sort of start being automatic and preordained by society. Good job, wife, kids, house. All that good shit you were brought up on to believe that those are the necessary ingredients to a happy and fulfilling life. I don't have any of that. Only the first ingredient concerns me as it allows me to pay for shit I think I want but in reality, if I'm honest, I don't really need. But you know, capitalism and base desires and all that intellectual sounding bullcrap.<br />
<br />
Like I said, life took over. I had 4 jobs in the last 8 years. Out of which I've only stayed at one for 3 years. The others rarely lasted more than a month. I could say that I was still searching for the right job but I know I'm not fooling anyone. I don't have my shit figured out. Life, which includes friends and family, have moved on way ahead of me and I'm still stuck here. By here I mean alone and awake at 2AM writing on a blog I hardly write on anymore, with no real purpose in life.<br />
<br />
This melancholy this time was brought about the fact that Michelle is getting married. Fine. Get married. It's part of the journey or life or insert whatever cliche about life you want here. What has got me pissed off, illogically is this:<br />
<br />
In regards to Michelle, her husband to be, surprise surprise, sees me as a threat and has asked Michelle to choose between me and him. Stop me if you haven't heard of that before. It's happened every fucking time with all her relationships. Yeah, yeah. We're good friends and I'm her unconditional security blanket and all that good shit. She was nice enough when she was single but after the relationship comes in, our friendship always gets puts on ice. To her credit, she did try to fight for it but in the end, inevitable, my friendship really didn't mean anything . And I'm sick of that shit. So that's the end of the friendship after 16 years. It was the second longest friendship I had after Jas. But sure, piss it all away. Because love-always-wins.<br />
<br />
The above situation shouldn't really get me angry if I think about it logically. I mean, Michelle is far away from me and absence makes the heart grow colder. She doesn't really impact my life in any way other than friendship and camaraderie. So why the fuck am I angry then?<br />
<br />
I'll tell you why; its because I have some screwed up false notion that she owes me some sort of obligation not to betray my trust and my feelings. I don't know where the fuck this comes from. Because she obviously doesn't. I'm clearly not someone who means a whole lot in her life either. And I think I found the crux of it. I'm mad at myself. For allowing myself to trust.<br />
<br />
I'll be frank. Before I wrote this paragraph I had written a long angry, emo, 3 paragraph spiel about not trusting people because people will invariably hurt you one way or the other. After having to take a piss and a smoke, I deleted it. Because in a moment of epiphany, I realized that its just one person out of the 40 or so other people which I really care about and trust with all my heart. She doesn't<br />
matter in the long run but the other 39 do (at least until they hurt you too but we'll cross that bridge when we get there).<br />
<br />
Yeah, I'll still hurt for a while. Especially due to our long, shared past. But I'll get over it eventually. And knowing that that eventuality WILL come makes me feel slightly better. I could really use a Red Horse now though. But alas, I apparently don't drink anymore. At least when I'm not on vacation anyway.<br />
<br />
I chose the subject title of this blog because when I first started writing, I wanted to close this blog. I<br />
hardly write anymore and I'm pretty sure that half the people who are apparently my followers are in reality just fucking bots. Plus I keep a journal. You know, the old school type where you actually have to use a writing instrument to write your thoughts down on pages and stuff. But I find that I'm reluctant to do so now. I mean, it has been 11 years. Sentimentality is a hell of a feeling. So, I'm just<br />
going to leave it open for now. I'll write in both mediums, time and thought permitting.<br />
<br />
Those of you who actually do read this whole messy, spelling error littered, grammatical nightmare wall of text, thank you. Really. You could have been watching porn or stalking your crush but you actually took the time which you will never get back to read the emo rantings of some weird guy.<br />
<br />
Thank you. <br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-24274122714087925352013-12-17T01:39:00.001+08:002013-12-17T01:39:27.398+08:00Poor man's PoeI see you sometimes in the night<br />
A haunting past, an apparition<br />
Of wrong choices, a soul stalker<br />
Of things left unsaid.<br />
<br />
You chase my guilt in the familiar.<br />
I am afraid of new potentials.<br />
To think we've come so far<br />
Only to come back again<br />
To dark corridors of perdition.<br />
<br />
A swirling mist of uncertainty<br />
That settles and cloaks me<br />
Like a tender kiss of death.<br />
Icy tendrils, clawing, scratching;<br />
A torturer's delight, gasps of agony.<br />
<br />
A haunted forest hung with grim<br />
Visages of past mistakes,<br />
Rictus grins taunting, laughing<br />
Mirthlessly, accusingly.<br />
Mea culpa, Mea culpa, I plead;<br />
Silence of the graves.<br />
<br />
I'm not being emo. I just felt like doing some poetry. Not that I'm any good at it. But I feel that it is a rather elegant way of expressing one's feelings/emotions/thoughts on everything really. Plus, you know, English Lit student and all that artsy razzle dazzle.<br />
<br />
I wouldn't dare be that presumptuous and say I'm such a lover of Literature and the Arts because, besides course material and a few other choice works, I know diddly squat about that stuff. But that's the beauty of Art isn't it? Its universally appreciated subjectively. Feelings which can't be articulated into fancy and intelligent sounding words does not negate the actual feeling. Much like literature, and much like life in general. And I'm blabbering. <br />
<br />
This poem/post was, surprisingly, soundtracked by Kanye West, specifically, ironically, from his My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy album. Did it serve as my muse? I can't say, honestly. I thought about this poem on a cab ride home from work and Kanye West certainly wasn't soundtracking that (Incubus was though, specifically A Crow Left of the Murder album).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-31233216648092855942013-12-05T01:40:00.000+08:002013-12-05T01:40:09.769+08:00Hello againUm, yeah. So that was a really long sabbatical. Apologies (even though I highly doubt anyone is still reading this and hence the redundancy of an apology). Life has kept me somewhat preoccupied to really rant about anything.<br />
<br />
Actually, preoccupation would be the wrong misnomer to my lack of ranting. I just really don't give a shit about stuff like I used to. I don't mean I've become heartless. Kittens, puppies, Hermes (my golden retriever), sad love stories still get me. But things I should rightly(?) get all self righteous about just don't seem to incite the similar urge to rant. You could say, I became more selfish. Besides friends and family, anything that doesn't affect me or is of use to, or anything which I'm unable to remedy by myself through proactive action or otherwise; I could not care less. <br />
<br />
For example, I used to hate the whole hipster counter culture. I hated their whole condescending and Oh-I-Like-Things-That-Are-Not-The-Norm-I.e-I'm-Cooler(than you) attitude. Them and their Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, their free trade coffee, their typewriters and their stocking nets. You get the idea. Nowadays I don't even bat an eyelid. They do not serve any purpose towards me achieving my goals (getting laid, getting paid mostly preoccupy those goals. Nothing long term as yet). Plus, with the 20/20 vision of hindsight, being angry all the time is just tiring. Yes I know. Repeating myself. But I mean it this time. Really. Bar some ultra-mega-super-hyper traumatic incident happens which will revert me back to bitterness and self pity. Like Subway running out of meatballs on Meatball Wednesday. <br />
<br />
Not everything has changed of course. I'm still significant other-less, still smoking and drinking like its a dying fad, still very much in love with Americana and still employed (with a 4 month stretch of non-employment based on labor solidarity). Still me, basically, just less ranty. I haven't given much thought about Ms Goodgame and MsTeenCristine, besides the occasional (very occasional) Facebook stalk. I still talk to Michelle as we have since entered a strictly platonic relationship (as we can see from precedent, we just do not work as a couple. Plus you know, lesbian, straight guy. Not going to Gigli it.<br />
<br />
One thing I would like to address, since <a href="http://ju-rants.blogspot.com/2010/02/buah-kalam-minuman-keras.html">this post</a> has gotten considerable real world traction, is the particular subject of the ode which I drunkenly wrote about in 2010. After three years, I feel the same about her. And I still wish her happiness with her current man, who is of course one of the nicest guys you can ever have the pleasure of meeting. He's my friend and will always be my friend. Also, let's get this straight: I'm not in love with her. I'm in love with the idea of her. She's the epitome of the eventual one. She's just not meant for me. Not in this life or maybe even the others. That's the way the karmic cookie crumbles. Move on and get over it. <br />
<br />Besides everything mentioned above, life is complacently copacetic. And I like it that way. I don't think I would like to divulge the copacetic-ness of my life details (anymore) as I still believe in a modicum of privacy. Besides, aren't my thoughts and opinions already personal enough?<br />
<br />
May or may not post again. We'll see when the fancy to put thoughts to words hits again. Till then, keep it copacetic. <br />
<br />
This post was written to the songs of Taylor Swift. Say what you will about her. She's just a good singer. She gives me the same feel-good sorta bittersweet reminisce of better times feelings that I felt when I heard Michelle Branch. And no, my ovaries have not dropped last I checked. I just appreciate good music (to me anyway). Whatever its source. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-55048477876273378882012-01-07T01:14:00.006+08:002012-01-07T01:58:57.081+08:00I Hati Scott PilgrimScott 'effin Pilgrim. I honestly can't remember reading a more satisfying collection of comics besides Daredevil's Born Again arc. I will admit that I got into the comics due to the film staring one of Canada's better entertainment products, Michael Cera, which was just fucking fantastic. But you already know how I feel about film vs comics. I will never ever put them on the same pedestals because of the simple fact that they are two different mediums, and one will never reach the heights of the other. No, I'm not some fan boy hipster. That's just how I shield myself from disappointment.<br /><br />Anyway coming back to Scott Pilgrim, it's simply just a great book due to the fact that I can relate to it. Fine, I don't play any musical instruments and I never dated a hipster nor have I ever had the amount of girlfriends that he ever had, but I was that 20 something under achiever looking for the love of his life while trying to live life day by day in my own world view that may or may not include friends, family and reality. Still am actually. I would go so far as to call Scott Pilgrim the greatest post modern romantic ever.<br /><br />And I guess that's what we all aspire to be, the romantic, even though we try to deny it in an ever apathetic-because-its-cool attitude which over saturates everything in life these days. No, ladies and gentleman. Don't let post modernism steal your soul. We still want to feel and love and feel loved. Very much so.<br /><br />What? You were expecting a general summary of the story? Don't be lazy. Ask Uncle Google. Or better yet, go buy the collection. You will not regret it. Unless you hate everything and/or/up and including comics. Then go kill yourself. No. No.. Suicide is not something to be laughed at or made light of. Just... go away and sit in the quiet corner and meditate on mayhem and nihilism.<br /><br />Bottom line. I heart Scott Pilgrim<br />.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUm8gCN4G2oFHZVh_nQvj5Ucq4sKT0R9K36p5HOT-TlD-hMGpNxAUw-m8SwFZDKxk9LJzyx8VDqhU6FnC4uMLHyVgRH3eUBf-AFeqWhscrytmwFHhGEd2s6ojg1AZBlKfwum6U/s1600/Bryan+Lee+O%2527Malley.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUm8gCN4G2oFHZVh_nQvj5Ucq4sKT0R9K36p5HOT-TlD-hMGpNxAUw-m8SwFZDKxk9LJzyx8VDqhU6FnC4uMLHyVgRH3eUBf-AFeqWhscrytmwFHhGEd2s6ojg1AZBlKfwum6U/s400/Bryan+Lee+O%2527Malley.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694575045891662498" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Alright, just one more image since I've so fallen in love with print screen. What? I've just learnt to use it ok?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRLAxo0UdTu2jyRRHJSVsU-WB_s2KAgu_fttyCN2wg9hM-GqLM-ewNwSunrfThn9s-6hhT7UBDVeJ81rbSKHmqQ9auZjrjfoPxuViwQyC-6B3Hx2Sn0bvDMS9ibz0g8CmlO1X9/s1600/Scott+Pilgrim.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 327px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRLAxo0UdTu2jyRRHJSVsU-WB_s2KAgu_fttyCN2wg9hM-GqLM-ewNwSunrfThn9s-6hhT7UBDVeJ81rbSKHmqQ9auZjrjfoPxuViwQyC-6B3Hx2Sn0bvDMS9ibz0g8CmlO1X9/s400/Scott+Pilgrim.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694576004601960338" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">What we all ultimately aspire to reach.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />If you need more reasons to read Scott Pilgrim, the you, sir/madam, are a most blase person. And I bet you don't even know what that means without referring to a dictionary. Or you're secretly part of a race of aliens who's one weakness is appreciating good shit (literally and metaphorically.. oh man.. nothing like a good shit at the end of the day).<br /><br />Bryan Lee O'Malley, sir, please don't sue me for copyright infringement. I only wanted to share one minute but immensely important part of your work with your masses. And I know you don't have time to trawl through the blogs but in the rare almost never ever gonna happen no chance in hell instance you do visit here, thanks for reading! I read <a href="http://radiomaru.com/">radiomaru.com</a> too! And yeah, please don't sue me.<br /><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-65518371868774752502011-12-30T22:50:00.004+08:002011-12-31T03:12:23.225+08:00I'm quite boredYeah. Like the title says. But you already knew that when I start writing an entry here. Perhaps all is not as contentful as it should or appears to be eh? And I know the source of this boredom/ discontent. Its the lack of female companionship at this stage in life. Let's face it. I'm 26. I got a good (hopefully long term), well paying job, good family, good friends and a roof over my head. But sometimes, sometimes the urge to just have that non platonic and somewhat sexy relationship is very strong.<br /><br />I laugh it off and try to compartmentalize it as some silly biological urge to go forth and multiply. Or that I try to justify my singlehood as the last resistance to the the chains of marriage. But who am I kidding eh? I want a Mrs. Ju-Rants. Ok well, marriage is still a bit off at least until the cut off point of age 35, but you know, someone to share stuff with. From pizzas to how much time I spend with my friends. The whole shebang. Hell, I'm putting driving on the table here (those of you that know me know that driving is.. a problem). And I'll probably quit smoking. Probably. If it bothers you that much.<br /><br />I guess that explains why a majority of the posts here are about the women I had affections for, namely Michelle, MsGoodGame, and Ms CounterStrike. Those three, despite the various infatuations I've had with several other girls of the week, are the ones I suppose have affected me the most. They are/were, the ones that got away. Speaking of which, I did this at work (on a really fucking slow day, so don't get your labour law panties in a bunch)<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjivebsDEl7mUNz4sCz2xTeiGPi6aRJbCHQHTgeGTAlm-xEYaqNIfPTsRln5zYzSizSwM29eGHqMgp0F-NMnQursi0OnFuDBflE0e2QD0uRQhHZfrIDmY4AX4oRVpEccIfeK_nU/s1600/Meme1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 158px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjivebsDEl7mUNz4sCz2xTeiGPi6aRJbCHQHTgeGTAlm-xEYaqNIfPTsRln5zYzSizSwM29eGHqMgp0F-NMnQursi0OnFuDBflE0e2QD0uRQhHZfrIDmY4AX4oRVpEccIfeK_nU/s400/Meme1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691938606984309970" border="0" /></a>A very accurate meme of my love life even if I do say so myself. And yes, 9gag stole my soul. It will steal yours too.<br /><br />And I can already here the whole "oh, falling in love isn't hard. You have to wait for the right one to come along" or "you have to put yourself out there". Ignoring the fact that both statements actually contradict each other, I have in fact tried to be normally adjusted to society given my sociopathic tendencies of staring intensely at people who catch my attention and copious amounts of smoking and frowning. I'm not angry about shit, I just frown when I'm thinking. Ergo, I think a lot. Sometimes about work but mostly dialogue I will never have with people I will never meet.<br /><br />But yes, I try to meet girls out there. Strangely enough, the one's I'm interested in are always unavailable (i.e. they have a fucking boyfriend). And no, the fact that they are already committed to someone else is not the dealmaker for me to be interested in someone. That's just fucking sick. I just don't do well at closing the deal. And I'm incredibly shy and self conscious around everything I'm unfamiliar with. So... Vietnamese mail order brides?<br /><br />Unrelated Anecdote : There this one time I was in Bristol having a drink in a bar with my Malaysian friend and his roommate and the roommate's girlfriend and girlfriend's friend. So we were all sitting outside at the table bench and the girls had to take their leave. So as they were getting up, the roommate's girlfriend, somehow, managed to flash us (the Malaysians) her panties. I did not snigger or laugh or be a creep about but politely looked away. To which she said (and you have to say this in your head with the most English-fied accent you can imagine), "Oh no, I've done gone an flashed my fanny to everyone".<br /><br />Now, to my American culture influenced brain, I translated "fanny" to mean "ass/backside". And i think my perplexity was apparent on my face when my friend whispered to me in Malay, "Fanny kepada meraka bermakna pantat, bukan belakang mereka". A quiet smile was shared as I sipped my Stella.<br /><br />So yeah, loneliness and boredom tends to produce shit entries like these sometimes. Harping about the same bloody issues over and over again.<br /><br />Happy New Year by the way. I hope you get laid.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-89029279905490366292011-12-26T23:59:00.006+08:002011-12-27T00:44:26.147+08:00Selamat Hari NatalMerry Christmas dear reader. I hope you got an Iphone4s and/or laid for Christmas. I did not get either but instead got somewhat drunk on beer at a German bar run by Myanmarese. And that's what the holiday's about. Materialism and inebriation on Jesus's birthday which is incidentally a continuation of pre-Christian pagan winter solstice celebration . Happy birthday Lord. Thus ends this year's Christmas message.<br /><br />On another somewhat hilarious and/or shocking note, I have with me photographic evidence of Ms CounterStrike being a somewhat unbalanced and/or airheaded person which, in light of this evidence and further past transgressions, has me thinking , "what the hell did i fucking see in THAT?" I mean yeah, attractive body aside, there's no way in hell we could have sustained a theoretical relationship, aside from constant mind numbing sex. Call it high standards if you will, but no.. just... no.<br /><br />For the uninitiated, Ms CounterStrike is currently dating her ex boyfriend of 9 years, Mr Danny. This is the very same boyfriend who, from very reliable sources, used to force himself on her and has even physically battered her on occasion. A regular fucking saint this one. I submit to you proof of the current folly that is their relationship ala facebook relationship status.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOoaF0GzlSrT4nSHkuAfv66NYR1wswlqBMB1gtrOLUFZ_NMbym4Azgn-vl72L2H8FZ5AX_Kh7zPpGuqOi7lFsvS2yHuTOKCGMbbJlZODBRFUd_puHX4-WaNpUogkKDcv3aVU6/s1600/Cristine2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 189px; height: 99px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOoaF0GzlSrT4nSHkuAfv66NYR1wswlqBMB1gtrOLUFZ_NMbym4Azgn-vl72L2H8FZ5AX_Kh7zPpGuqOi7lFsvS2yHuTOKCGMbbJlZODBRFUd_puHX4-WaNpUogkKDcv3aVU6/s400/Cristine2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690470613334833090" border="0" /></a>Clear so far? After the events mentioned above, I have deleted Ms CounterStrike from any social interaction but for the life of me she still remains a "friend" on the facebook of yours truly. This has afforded me the opportunity to provide "vigilant surveillance" on her well being in the hypothetical but real threat of her current boyfriend going Chris Brown on her. You may call it stalking, sir, but my altruistic intentions defeats all your legal and moral arguments. Furthermore, go fuck yourself, sir.<br /><br />Coming back to tangent subject, I have recently found the following on her wall.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjykwesNVTC5iuUM3wGM4CfXUPH7IrzXt05B_TxWxOhlNMvPi-JjmnzOp4sS3JRVvgMzxTi9EHUwxcQRl5NAxADNwPnr4yE0ZHcTBgl7M64J6jMkBEc-5J-097fA_3b3sGNJuDJ/s1600/Cristine.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 381px; height: 80px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjykwesNVTC5iuUM3wGM4CfXUPH7IrzXt05B_TxWxOhlNMvPi-JjmnzOp4sS3JRVvgMzxTi9EHUwxcQRl5NAxADNwPnr4yE0ZHcTBgl7M64J6jMkBEc-5J-097fA_3b3sGNJuDJ/s400/Cristine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690469803363039746" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Wait for it......<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMfKoLv_aUy7ORQbgpgSfemw3ZEQ-OGcNXbInIWJRknzEmdcGKkOnMBR2WyrcbHOqz9bVwksb4BL4fBVAYsAG1K5DZabogCyuWYOoVPwSUyM0NQz_xVmrkQviCLMiX_LhJW0m/s1600/Fuckingincest%2521.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMfKoLv_aUy7ORQbgpgSfemw3ZEQ-OGcNXbInIWJRknzEmdcGKkOnMBR2WyrcbHOqz9bVwksb4BL4fBVAYsAG1K5DZabogCyuWYOoVPwSUyM0NQz_xVmrkQviCLMiX_LhJW0m/s400/Fuckingincest%2521.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690475033368057154" border="0" /></a><br /><br />N.B: I wanted to find something more interesting on the net, but 9gag was of no help and typing "funny + incest" leads to very very very very very very strange websites and pictures.....<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);">WAS I DRUNK THE WHOLE TIME I WAS ATTRACTED TO HER??</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"></span>Anyway..<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Mer</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);">ry Ch</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">rist</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);">mas! </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-16813747145490156622011-12-20T18:53:00.006+08:002011-12-21T10:04:26.427+08:00Something that rhymes with HiatusOk, so the last post was really bad. Wooden, monotonous, uninspired, Justin Bieber-like. No wait, that would mean that a lot of tweeners read this blog, and they are most certainly not my target audience. If you're 13-16 and reading this, GO AWAY. Go do your homework or destroy music or go hate on people not of your own race and/or sexual orientation. On a bus or tram if you like.<br /><br />Back onto the tangent topic of half assed blogging (at least to my delusion of a high standard of blogging. Yeah. I know. I have a lot of spelling and grammar mistakes. And I know its sad to re-read my old blog posts.) I don't think I can make any excuses. In retrospect, I'm just not that bothered to blog, or indeed, blog well. Ju-Rants is no longer an outlet for me to express my frustrations and disappointments in life. I smoke and drink and shoot the shit with friends for that. Oh, and 9gag.<br /><br />Come to think of it, I'm not really that frustrated and/or disappointed anymore. Nay, I feel that I am better able to cope with said frustrations/ disappointments better without having to resort to laying blame on everyone else but myself, or on myself in a hopelessly vicious cycle of self pity on display for all to see on the blog. Can't live like that really. Hence the redundancy of this blog and therefore the lack of entries since my annual Valentines Day rant.<br /><br />Oh, life hasn't been rosy since that post. I resigned from a shitty job with a shitty pay and shittier work environment. Was unemployed for 7 months due to a lack of foresight of securing another job before resigning. And now here we are again. Employed with a better pay and somewhat better work environment. No, you may not know what I do because work is work and ranting is ranting.<br /><br />What about the 7 months of "being in between jobs" you may ask. Absofuckinglutely nothing. Slept all day and watched movies and tv shows all night. Repeat endless cycle of pure boredom and intermittent episodes of Seth MacFarlane's animation lineup, Big Bang Theory, Breaking Bad, oh and the total lack of self esteem from the lack of employment. Some or all of you have been through that/will go through that so no need to regale you with tales of how I found it oh-so-bleak boo hoo whiny bitching about life etc etc. Or perhaps you're all big fans of schadenfreude. Well, no dice for you this time.<br /><br />So you see, life is somewhat better. It does get better. If not, what's the fucking point right? I may or may not blog on here from time to time. As you've seen, I can take a really long sabatical from the blogsphere. Maybe if something interesting comes up or there is a blog worthy flash of epiphany. But Ju-Rants, what about your take on politics and all that smart people stuff (condescend much?) ? Well, you can go read about it yourself. Or watch PhillyD on youtube (sxephil). Why listen to one (somewhat angry and bias and not really that smart if you think about it) man's views? Get your own views. <br /><br />Funny stuff. Funny stuff.. Heck I don't know eh. My materials are mostly one liners, situational, referential and throwaways. And did I forget to mention esoteric? And I don't meticulously write down a funny joke on my jokepad (gasps.. i actually typed that) and then later blog about it. Plus 9gag seems to "steal" my jokes before i can properly distribute it to the proper channels (friends and random hot girls).<br /><br />On another note, Thank you Brazil. You've given us Aryton Senna, great football, Brazilian JuJitsu, great MMA fighters, Brazilian BBQ, the film City of God, the thong and hot women to ogle at. Keep up the good work. Obrigado.<br /><br />You see what a struggle it is to blog anymore? I just dont have it in me anymore. Granted, this was written in a more timely manner than that last piece of shit post. But it still missing that pizazz from which I've come to expect from myself when blogging. Maybe I'm just a better blogger when I'm angry/drunk. Meh.<br /><br />This year will mark the first year that less than 10 blog posts have been made by me. Do I get my cake and/or medal now?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-13471576478614312562011-02-11T23:24:00.003+08:002011-02-11T23:46:08.259+08:00Hari Valentine = omong kosongKata kasar Hari Valentine tahun ini akan disiarkan lebih awal dari jadwal kerana juru tulis anda yang begitu rendah hati terasa terlebih sinis atas fakta Ms CounterStrike telah jalin semula hubangan romantik dengan teman lelaki brengsek lamanya yang telah (dan kemungkinan besar) akan melakukan tindakan tercela tersebut dalam masa hadapan. Apa yang dia tengok di dalam brengsek itu, aku pun dah berputus asa nak dapat kefahaman. Lebih daripada menjadi cemburu, aku terasa sangat sedih dan bahkan bersimpati atas kembalian hubungan tersebut, yang hanya, dalam pendapat jujur saya, boleh berakhir dengan keburukan.<br /><br />Selain daripada itu, biarkan saya usulkan sebab perasaan sinis saya terhadap Hari Valentine. Untuk mengutip kata kawan baik saya Seemat Yusof, Hari Valentine adalah hari istemawa hanya kepada kanak-kanak, orang belum matang, dan orang yang baru-baru menjalinkan hubungan romantik. Untuk orang biasa, seperti juru tulis blog ini, ia adalah hari yang lain. Akuilah, apakah coklat, kad atau bunga-bunga mawar akan membuat untuk mempastikan and mengeratkan hubungan anda dengan teman sempurna awak? Hari Valentine hanya direkakan oleh syarikat kad Hallmark untuk meningkatkan jualan pada tempoh yang biasanya jualan kad-kad dan benda dukungan mereka lambat. Dan, untuk kawan-kawan bijaksana yang menganngap Hari Valentine adalah rekaan daripade Geraja, tolonglah... buka mata dan mendapatkan pengetahuan and keilmuan.<br /><br />Aku harap para pembaca blog aku memaafkan juru tulis rendah ini dalam kecubaan dia menulis kata kasar (rant) Hari Valentine tahun ini dalam bahasa melayu.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-59578525350131483282011-02-04T02:23:00.003+08:002011-02-15T03:53:52.755+08:00Rafael: Obrigado por seguir o meu blogPart 1 (3/2/2011)<br />No, I don't speak Portuguese. I just wanted to welcome Rafael from from Belo Horizonte, Brazil, who has somehow found this here blog here worthy of being followed along with the other 7 of you.<br />Obrigado, Xiexie, nandhri, terima kasih and thanks for the support.<br /><br />I wanted to write something about Chinese New Year this time around, seeing as it is that time of the year, but I chose not too seeing as this year's event of cultural and familial importance was sullied by my two asshole uncles. Thanks for spoiling the mood by threatening to "sort out" my aunt and potentially ensuring my dad gets suspended from practice. Good for nothing spineless ungrateful cowards. I'm ashamed to call you uncles. A pity we have to related by default.<br /><br />Part 2 (6/2/2011)<br />I don't know why, but I feel a profound sense of loneliness for some reason. Yeah I know Yoke Leng's back with that dick. I know me and Michelle can't salvage anything from our relationship other than a platonic outcome. And I'm alright with all of that surprisingly. Yoke Leng's too much of an idiot and Michelle has proven that we work better as friends rather than lovers. But still the loneliness persists. Life could be somewhat better I'll admit. I'm being underpaid and overwork but who isn't these days? Said work has prevented me from pursuing more healthier pursuits such as the CMD and has thus brought about the unwanted side effect of being well.. fat. And the pimples persists like its 2001 all over again. I really don't know what will happen in 5 years to be honest, at which time I will turn 31 and the lack of having a significant other will undoubtedly become more overbearing than it already is now. I guess that's basically it. This sense of uncertainty about the future. And no one to actually tell me its going to be alright. As it is right now I can't even call anyone to just come and accompany me on this melancholic jaunt which I hope to remedy with some alcohol. Fuck it.<br /><br />Part 3 (15/2/11)<br />Yeah. I found some time to write the annual V-day rant in malay. Somehow. With work being what it is, I'm surprised that I was even able to concentrate efforts towards a somewhat burdensome task. Yes, Its still about Yoke Leng. I've had an epiphany about why I feel the way I do. Rather than the overused and cliched "The one that got away" or the whole "wanting something you can't have" high road, I'm honestly just being petty. I never made a concentrated effort to actually get to know you better, or vice versa. I similarly did not give you my Initial Benefit Statement as to why you should at least come watch a movie with me which may or may not end up with me holding your hand since we're on what's colloquially called a "date".<br /><br />I don't in fact know anything about you other than the random odd trivia which you casually revealed to me on the few occasions that we spoke. Like, for example, I know you do not like squid, or as the culinary savvy would say, calamari. I know you do not like nuts in your chocolate (and I have resisted the urge to turn that into a sexual innuendo which i am wont to do at times). I know you are afraid of the dark and sleep with the light on. I know your ultimate wish was to visit/live in Australia (which has ultimately been fulfilled thanks to your current/old bf which im assuming is loaded due to his hard and diligent work as a business development exec.). I know you're a hopeless romantic like me and that you read fantasy books as a form of escapism. I know your birthstone is a rose quartz. I know your birthday's on 6 June and that you're a Gemini. I know, you're just so afraid to be alone that you did rather settle than be faced with the possibility of facing the world alone. Yeah. I don't know anything about you at all.<br /><br />I resolve to forget you by year's end. This charade that I've been playing at about how you should be with me when I don't do anything at all to make it so has to stop. I shall forget you and you shall fade. Yeah, the initial feelings of hurt from the fucking cliched unrequited love is still there obviously,but this too shall pass. Eventually. And listening to Scorpion's You and I is not fucking helping by the way.<br /><br />The next part is about Malaysia and Malaysian Politics and Culture. Stop reading here if you are totally apathetic about the subject or just find that im too "wordy" and the wall of texts hurts your eyes.<br /><br /><br />On the subject of Valentines day, the pathetic joke that is the typical Malaysian mentality has once again reared it ugly head in regards to this Hallmark Greeting card Company manufactured day. It is, according to the National Fatwa Council of Malaysia, an event that should not be celebrated/participated in due to it containing "Christian" elements and promotes vice activities and is therefore un-Islamic. May I point out that this is the same Council which issued a Fatwa that Muslims should not practice yoga as it contains elements of Hinduism and is therefore "un-Islamic"Valentines Day has also been termed as a "Christian" festival which has many elements of sin in it such as illicit sex and immoral activities by an "Islamic marriage motivational speaker". The Department for Islamic Development, in concert with State Islamic Departments, police and drug enforcement officers and the Auxiliary Volunteer Corp has also conducted raids on known lover's lanes and budget hotels to "illuminate" and "educate" Muslims engaged in "immoral activities and "close proximity", otherwise known as "khalwat". Non-Malaysian readers may think that I'm making this up, but rest assured that I am not. Yes, this is Malaysia. The shining beacon of moderate Islam. Isn't that right <a href="http://dinmerican.wordpress.com/2011/02/14/this-rachel-motte-article-was-removed-from-her-blog/">Ms Rachel Motte</a>? Don't let the fucking shiny buildings and words such as "economic transformation program" and "Malaysia: Truly Asia" blind your "journalistic integrity" to the ever blackening shades of fact.<br /><br />Since I do not have the intellectual capacity to put in to an eloquent discourse about how I feel about the situation, I direct you to an article written by Jeswan Kaur in Free Malaysia Today @ <a href="http://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/2011/02/14/not-nice-to-put-another-religion-down/">http://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/2011/02/14/not-nice-to-put-another-religion-down/</a><br /><br />Mind you, this is just the latest in a long long long line of politicization of everything from race to economics and religion designed by the Those-that-must-not-be-mentioned-or-I'll-get-thrown-into- jail-under- the- Sedition- and- Internal Security- act to be as divisive as possible to regain the popular vote they almost lost in 2008 . Church attacks, housing and university placement quotas, grave robbing, institutionalized racism, ubiquitous and 1984-ish like police force, continued reminders of being beholden to the paperless social contract "or else". You name it, we've run the gamut sans big great "people" revolutions, something I will discuss with further later on.<br /><br />Now, you may ask "Hey Ju-Rants. If you hate Malaysia so much why don't you just leave?" To my European/ football fan readers, would you still support (insert football team) even though the management totally fucked it up? I mean best players leaving, point deductions due to tax mismanagement, etc etc? To readers specifically in the United States and the , same thing but with baseball, American football, basketball and ice hockey teams. No, you wouldn't, because you love the team and not the management. Same analogy.<br /><br />No. We're not ready for the currently trending revolution ala Egypt and Tunisia. The simple fact of the matter is, the Malaysian is pragmatic at best, apathetic at worst. As long as we can maintain the status quo of "everything's fine. no one's bothering me" then things will never fucking change, much to the delight of the corrupt and the wicked that stalk the corridors of power. Weak willed Malaysians. And besides, a few tear gas rounds and chemical laced water cannons are enough to scare most of us off, and any attempts to gain some support for the protesters are lost because the "pragmatic" Malaysian will just complain about "Aiyaa... stupid jam caused by the stupid protest". Because, you know, getting to your destination is more important than a revolution for justice and reform. Of all the nations of the world, Malaysia takes the cake in apathy and meekness. Well, maybe Singapore's got us beat there. But then they don't have much to complain about do they? Besides a benevolent dictatorship that just so happens to be able to produce an average 6.09% in GDP growth on an annual average.<br /><br />So, in a nutshell, unless and until Malaysian actually grow a pair of balls, the status quo will remain.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-10213776251870697862011-01-29T00:52:00.005+08:002011-09-07T01:40:23.434+08:00Chesty Coughs/ Not a hipsterSo I just had some "strong" cough syrup for my apparent "viral infection" of the throat. Antihistamines, as you may or may not know, has the side effect of making one drowsy. In my case, it makes me dopey, akin to being a little bit drunk sans the alcohol and the ritual like realization that hey, I'm not getting laid tonight again. So... im going to talk to you Ms Teen Cristine.<br /><br />I can't fucking believe you went back to your woman beating, paranoid, compulsive, controlling douchebag boyfriend. I mean, were pickings really that slim? Could you really not find anyone else? Like me? Oh wait, I forgot, you think<span style="font-weight: bold;"> I'm creepy.</span> What with my book purchasing and repeated attempts to at least have some social interaction with you which invariably leads to you calling your friend to come along on the pretense(to her anyway) that its some jolly youthful group outing instead of my original intention of spending some personal one-on-one time getting to know you better since, well, that was your original reason for not going out with me isn't it? I don't know you that well. Well sorry, but I seem to think that 9 years of "not knowing me" should fucking account for something. Let me tell you one thing though, I never have and never will beat a woman. Stick that in your fucking dysfunctional relationship pipe and smoke it, you passive aggressive bitch. Eh, don't worry about it. She doesn't even know this blog exists. And even if she did, its not like its going to change the status quo one way or another.<br /><br />10 minutes: Eyelids seem somehow a little heavier. Am very much conscious and fully aware of my actions. Dear Sirs and/or Madams, I humbly request that I be allowed to hand in my submission on reasons why I am not a hipster nor have I ever claimed to be one, contrarian as my personality may be.<br /><br />1) I'm fat. You don't see fat hipsters because, ironically, being fat isn't hipster enough. Really, think about. Have you ever seen a fat hipster? Everyone's very much thin from the refusal to harm mother earth by using petroleum based fuel. Or eat non-organic food which has been scientifically proven to not be any much different from organic food. Plus I think reading Charles Bukowski puts a strain on one mentally and physically.<br /><br />2) Yes, I do like Indie bands. I do admit that out of the top 25 most played songs on my ipod, 10 are indie bands. But what I fail to mention is I have a lot of mainstream songs in there as well. Except Taylor Swift, that Hilary Duff, The Simpson sisters, Paris Hilton. I mean, something along those veins. Yes, I am very much aware that I cannot carry a tune to save my life, much less have delusions of grandeur to an unrealized fantasy of being a rock star dead at 30 from too much cocaine and alcohol and what I also assume, since Im somewhat famous now, Sexually Transmitted Diseases. I however, am able to live with that fact. Are they? And just to prove that I'm not misogynistic, fuck Justin Bieber. I told you people named Justin are evil... Anyway, off tangentially fun as that was, yeah, I like good music. Indie or otherwise.<br /><br />3) Much of my literature consists of fantasy and sci fi novels, along with a ton of mainstream comics, with the exception of Hellblazer. I do not have a single Charles Bukowski poem book nor do I have the unabridged version of the Satanic Verses. I admit I do have a Che Guevara biography but I hardly think reading a book about a revolutionary makes one a hipster, much less a revolutionary. Hell, the only revolution I would start is the advocacy of getting my dick some much needed vaginal contact.<br /><br />4) I do not know how Pabsts Blue Ribbon tastes like. I like my beer commercial. Like Carlsberg and Tiger. And no, we do not have any local brands to support seeing as we live in Muslim state in all but name.<br /><br />5) I don't know what hipster fashion is. Seriously. I don't. Does it entail a lot of mix and match, stockings, trench coats and shirts with ironic sayings on top of a fishnet vest? Granted, I do have a few t-shirts with funny sayings on it. But I thought they were funny, not ironic. Though I suppose with the mirthless and sardonic humour American television has taught us, its all one in the same isn't i?. As long as it gets a reaction. Right, William Shatner?<br /><br />6) I have a blog. How anti hipster is that?<br /><br />Therefore, to conclude, Ladies and Gentlemen, Im not a fucking hipster.<br /><br />20 minutes in: Chesty Phlegmy cough is still present. I guess having that cigarette 2 minutes back wasn't the best of ideas.. And I've run out of ideas seeing as my head seems to be spinning a little bit and I seem to be breathing through my mouth a lot. Is that how the term came about? Mouth Breather? But I'm only doing it because my nose is blocked you pretentious potential sex offender. I hope you get splinters raping a table.<br /><br />Speaking of which, what exactly is a coffee table book? Is it like a big bowl of candy for guests to help themselves too while waiting for you and the missus who have sneak off to have some quickie sex which will eventually led to conception of Matthaeus, the inhaler totting, horn rimmed glasses wearing, suspender wearing, mouth breathing, glandular problem son/daughter? Anyway yes... its a time waster to help make wasting other people's time easier on the conscience, if you have one. And I suppose it makes one look all "intellectual", you and your pictorial of Shih Tzus and Rustic Kitchen Designs 2011.<br /><br />EDIT: this post was written on 29/1/2011 but is only being published on 7/9/2011.<br /><br />EDIT 2: I don't hate Ms Teen Cristine anymore but I still maintain that getting back together with her woman beating boyfriend was a very unwise decision on her part, to say the least.<br /><br />EDIT 3: I obviously didn't die from that viral infection you smartass.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-27225880082982326032011-01-22T18:49:00.005+08:002011-01-22T19:27:35.028+08:00reduxi ceklikan pantasOk, so the rapid flick got a lot of visitors to this site who were sadly mistaken into thinking it was a porn site. No sirs and/or madams, this is, unfortunately, not a porn site, amateur or gonzo or otherwise.<br /><br />If you must know, I've finally discovered where I got the rapid flick reference from. Its from the webcomic LeastICouldDo. This <a href="http://leasticoulddo.com/comic/20110117">panel</a> specifically. Its a funny webcomic. Go read it. Along with Questionable Content and CtrlAltDel. DrMcNinja and Wondermark arent too bad either.<br /><br />Again, in regards to the rapid flick, in case I wasn't being clear, I meant it in reference to fellatio. And I imagine that word may or may not get another couple of hundred hits from the many, many perverts out there who loves free porn from blogspot as much as I do.<br /><br />Special shoutout to visitors from Bulgaria, Hungary, Saudi Arabia, Israel, Slovakia, Brazil and the Faeroe Islands. And also to visitors from Fuquay Varina in North Carolina, US. That has got to be best sounding town/city name I've ever heard.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-30468269047803526162011-01-20T22:12:00.003+08:002011-01-20T22:40:30.852+08:00That dream again or Saying yes to the rapid flickHey you. Ms CounterStrike. Why is it every time I dream about you, we always end up fucking? You have not entered my thoughts since my very much voluntary annexation of my mind from your existence. So why do you have to sashay your hot ass back into my dreams all Inception like minus the blaring trumpets and inverted worlds but with the added goddamnyourbodyishotasfuck-ness? Get out of my head.<br /><br />No, I'm not obsessed. If I was I would be getting all David Carradine on myself in my car outside your house. But I don't. Because a) im not into getting off on self asphyxiation and b) I don't know where you live, though you know where I live.. which invariably puts the stalker ball into your court.<br /><br />And another thing. Besides the awesome mind blowing Inception-doesn't-have-shit-on-this dream sex, you are somehow... infinitely smarter somehow. Now, I'm not saying we discuss the String theory in particle physics or an in-depth analysis of the current impact of rising oil prices from a socio-political standpoint, but you are.. more enlightened. Somehow. Plus the way you hold that cigarette is pretty damn sexy...<br /><br />Now, I'm sorry to keep going back to the sex thing, but quite frankly, I would think that would be all that we would have in common should we commingle and "go out". Fine, I'll give you the benefit of a doubt that you are of the same intellectual plane as I am (and that's not saying much). But from the few and far in between chance social encounters that we have had, well... We're not going to watch Fraiser together anytime soon.<br /><br />And you're not shy. You just choose to be whenever you're around me. Please girl, I'm not Frankenstien's monster. Yes, the many acne scars and the way I tend to frown a lot may lend some credence to the rumour that I do in fact David Carradine myself in the car in front of your house and practice self flagellation without being sanctioned by Opus Dei, but I can assure you, I'm alright, if not socially adept with members of your sex, at times.<br /><br />Yes, I am in fact a fan of the rapid flick and suck. Not the slow circular motions. I don't know how that came about but that was in the dream. You, madam, have skills. <br /><br />Ok but seriously, as much as you tend to rock my dream self's world, you need to stop that. Because reality self finds the after effects of saying "it's just a dream" particularly disheartening.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-19244953626381256312011-01-15T06:38:00.002+08:002011-01-15T09:05:04.172+08:00MusikAs you know, I usually do the blog posts with music from my itunes playing. Since I'm bored, I'm going to blog about whatever song comes on since I've now set it to "shuffle mode".<br /><br />1) Right in Two by Tool<br />Excellent song. Then again every song by Tool is good. If you like progressive rock that is. This song was actually introduced to me by Mr Antonis back in Bristol. I have to say, one of the most straightforward songs by Tool in general. Its all about us humans, selfish fuckers as we are, from the point of view of the angels in the abrahamic vein( i,e jews, muslims, christians). We're referred to as monkeys fighting over every little thing even though there's enough to go around. With the advent of "reasoning" and "free will", we, very much like King Solomon tale, would solve disputes by cutting everything in two. Mine and yours. Unfortunately, i want what's yours as well. So yeah. A song about human behavior.<br /><br />2)Warning by Incubus<br />Nice. Again another song that sometimes played through the soundtrack of my "formative years". Very,very straightforward meaning. Don't let life pass you by. Some even equate the song's subject matter as being Mother Nature, given the band's environmental views, which in this case means, stop fucking around with the earth. A warning of sorts, if you will. I particularly like the line "I suggest we learn to love ourselves before it's made illegal".<br /><br />3)Through the Iris by 10 years<br />Haven't heard this one in a while. If I remember correctly, this was through my metal/emo phase. My personal interpretation about this song is all about perception. Especially the way people view us, and vice verse, and life in general. Sometimes it's best if we could redefine perception. But all you get is the first impression. Simple right?<br /><br />4)Speed of sound by Chris Bell<br />From Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist soundtrack. Which was brilliant. Along with the movie. It's not the best thing since gone with the wind, but its alright. For an indie song it has very a generic unrequited love theme going on. Synthesizers played alongside acoustic guitars along with those.. you know those instruments you hear at some beach resort in the caribbean that sounds like you're hitting a coconut/tortoise shell? The name escapes me. But anyway yeah. synthesizers, guitar and shell like instrument, you're indie sir.<br /><br />5) Clubbed to Death by Rob Dougan<br />Im sure you all remember this song from the Matrix. The scene where Morpheus take Neo through the sim-matrix, bla bla bla, women in the red dress, bla bla bla holyfuckingshit its an agent scene? Yeah. No lyrics so I can't give you an interpretation. But I like the beat and the title. Syncs up nicely. Running from the person with the club, almost escaping, and then.. well.. getting clubbed to death. And its all green and grainy like in the matrix. Yeah. I have imagination.<br /><br />6)Lonely by Akon<br />Yes. I do in have Akon in my playlist. I don't think this song needs an explanation right? No complex issues to be resolved. No hidden meanings. Just. yeah.<br /><br />7)Oye Mi Canto by N.O.R.E featuring Nina Sky<br />Yes, I'm a tool. And i blame this song as being the main catalyst for the Latinization of pop music . La Bamba by Ritchie Valens doesn't count. Not that there's anything wrong with Latin music. It's got its own unique style. What I don't like is the fact that we have a lot of people who have no idea what the lyrics are saying since they dont speak Spanish, but claim songs by Daddy Yankee is their most favourtest song ever. I know its not a real word. Im just repeating whatever the masses say.<br /><br />8) Give me a call by 311<br />Good ol' 311. This takes me back to HELP days, when i actually began to really appreciate music. This song comes under recommendation from Mr Yoong, Jonzi and Tupps. Thank you kind sirs for the great service that you have done this humble scribe. As to the song itself.. really, you can get the meaning of most songs just by looking at the name. Guy to girl : Call me, so we can arrange a venue and time for social interaction between the two of us, with a short term view of enjoying each other's temporary company and, depending on results of first said social interaction, a long term view to start a family unit.<br /><br />9)Rap Superstar by Cypress Hill<br />Yeah. Cypress Hill. Skull and Bones was the first rap album I ever bought. Back when Shawn Fanning and Sean Parker were still trying to get laid before inventing napster and a free music(pirated) music environment under which I don't think anyone, in Malaysia anyway, has ever bought an album since. Not an expensive one anyway. The song essentially talks about the pitfalls of being a superstar. You know, the generic dealing with the fame, album execs, touring, etc etc etc. Goes to show, no matter what you do in life, you can't ever run away from stress. Somehow, earning millions makes it all better. Somehow.<br /><br />10) Nobody move, nobody get hurt by We are Scientist<br />Remember them and this song? They actually came to Malaysia to play once. No. Of course you dont. That's what happens when you're a semi indie band with a semi successful single. I like them. With their irreverent lyrics and song titles. This song in particular talks using bodies. Just go for it. The last time I did that, I got a "I'll scream rape unless you remove your hands in the next 5 seconds" look. Nah, I didnt. I dont have the balls nor the lack of morals to even attempt such a thing.<br /><br />11) Tomorrow by Silverchair<br />One of the few good bands to come out of Australia. Particularly like this song due to not light but not too heavy feel to it. Besides, it talks about class-ism. Rich vs Poor. Im a middle class bourgeois surviving on a meager income not yet amounting to 1.8k a month on a 10 hour a day job. So, yeah. I don't know where im going with this.<br /><br />12) I aint the one by NWA<br /> A very humorous and somewhat frank intellectual discussion about male-female relationship dynamics. In gangsta rap. Yup. That's it in a nutshell.<br /><br />13)L'amour est un oiseau rebelle." ("Love is a rebellious bird) by Georges Bizet<br />Otherwise known as the Habanera aria in the opera Carmen. Performed by Maria Callas. Yes. I do have this and I'm not fucking around. It's one of the most famous aria everyone ever heard but not known. Im talking about <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLtHGbxLcMI&feature=related">this </a>. I chose this specific video because the conductor looks and acts like me after one too many alcoholic beverages. The kicker starts at the 2:18 mark but i entreat you to watch the whole video. As to why I have this in my playlist, well, sometimes, I like to put on on a tuxedo with long shirt tails and top hat and and wear a monocle while sipping brandy in one hand and smoking a cigar in the other in a leather lounge chair while im at home.<br /><br />14)Mahgeetah by My Morning Jacket<br />One of the best bands out there in my opinion. Mad man love on Yim Yames. or Jim James, if you prefer. Honestly, I don't know what this song is about. I venture a guess that its about his guitar. (Mah- GeeTah). Or some love affair on the side, something Malaysian have lovingly referred to as "side parking". Whatever it is, its still a good song. Nice rhythm, timing, the works.<br /><br />15) Roots Bloody Roots by Sepultura<br />Wow, I havent heard this song in ages. Another remnant from my metal phase days. Sepultura was one of the first metals band i started getting into. You know, the band shirt and the whole "raagh SEPULTURA!!!!!" phase thing. One of their more commercially successful songs. Talks about not forgetting your roots. Like you know, if you're Chinese, it would be best if you could speak some chinese or celebrate the New Year in February.<br /><br />16)Where is my mind by The Pixies<br />Remember the final scene in Fight Club? Yeah this is the song. The song propagates a life where one doesnt have to over think and over analyze everything in life. Instead, they suggest a trippy outlook on everything. Whether or not this is through medication or otherwise is left unsaid but inferred.<br /><br />17)Lapdance by N.E.R.D<br />*Giggles like a schoolgirl. Ok no I didnt do that. But i did smile like an idiot when this came on. Im pretty sure all of you except the church going girl who secretly wants to rebel against institutional religion who reads this blog has heard of this song before. I don't think you need me to explain what its all about do you? Other than the socio-political subtext prevalent in the song.<br /><br />18) The Trooper by Iron Maiden<br />Oh yes. Another remnant from the metal days. Second song I heard from them after Fear of the Dark. Good band. Again, very straight forward song about the experiences of a soldier. You know, war and stuff.<br /><br />19)Hardknock Life by Jay-Z<br />So my rap phase began when I was 15. Jay-z was the first because, well, man was the best rapper in the world at the time. Especially with this song. You know what, I'm not going to do song meanings anymore for songs which are so straight forward. Hardknock life. You dont really need me to interpret that right? Unless your name ends with a Jr. or a Roman Numeral<br /><br />20)Amerika by Rammstien<br />Hah. This band made me wish i spoke german. Till Lindemann, the band's front man, said that german was such a brutal sounding language and therefore perfect for metal. Im inclined to agree with the man. As to the song itself, from what i can gather from translated lyrics and the music video, it talks about the Americanization of the world at large. Mickey Mouse, Coca Cola, McD's Apple's Iphone, pad touch Igetit. Yup, we all live in Amerika.<br /><br /><br />And that ladies and gentleman concludes session one of what's on my itunes. Future sessions may or may not be transcribed depending on how morose or bored i feel.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-65802264386307221052010-11-29T22:52:00.004+08:002011-01-11T23:20:12.998+08:00Because reality doesnt apply to powdered chocolate drinksI 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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"Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-45856007252789264262010-11-17T03:25:00.002+08:002010-11-17T04:31:10.335+08:00I dont like doing titles. It reminds me too much of my jobyeah. 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />evolution = innocent girl- culture shock girl- wild girl- experimentation girl- hipster girl- work girl- wife- divorcee- cougar- repeat starting from hispter girl stage<br /><br />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<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br />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..<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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)<br /><br />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.<br /><br />and im down to my last cigarette. see you then in a couple of monthsUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-76249569301689854422010-10-07T01:34:00.006+08:002011-09-07T01:23:15.772+08:00sesi berteriak #314I 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />"You may now kiss the bride". "Kiss her? I am going to DESTROY her" That made me laugh.<br /><br />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?)<br /><br />This post was incidentally written on 7 October 2010 but was only published 11.11pm on 1/1/11.<br /><br />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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-65866963501046673202010-08-31T15:11:00.002+08:002010-08-31T15:34:25.344+08:00Merdeka(?)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.<br /><br /><br />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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-88558380027947764972010-07-25T10:59:00.005+08:002010-08-07T12:47:54.519+08:00Intraweb BluesInternet. 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".<span style="font-weight: bold;"> YOU ARE THE PARENT</span>. 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".<br /><br />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.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> It's just a fucking game</span>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-36738031758278927782010-07-17T05:19:00.002+08:002010-07-17T06:07:07.966+08:00shortnot the size of one of my more important appendages, but the length of each paragraph<br /><br />You don't find love. You settle, and then delude yourself into thinking otherwise.<br /><br />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<br /><br />Sometimes you feel like you're an extra in the movie adaptation of the sequel to your life.<br /><br />Anyone can write. It's just that the famous ones look better in real life.<br /><br />You say personality, I say peer pressure that dictates acceptable social interaction. And/or consumption of alcohol<br /><br />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.<br /><br />I wonder if there's Indie Hindi music.<br /><br />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".<br /><br />Defenestrate. Such a calm sounding word juxtaposed to what it actually means.<br /><br />Degree= unless you're actually employed in a job related to it, is as useful as a vhs tape in this day and age.<br /><br />Im not actually smart or well read. I just speak really well at times. When I don't mumble.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />My go to line when Chinese taxi drivers start preaching about the purity of race and language; Im a scientologist.<br /><br />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..<br /><br />"It's not you, it's me. It's not your fault I find you horrendously boring and ugly to boot."<br /><br />Progressively boring shorts = end of blog entry # 149.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-71338649785356847432010-06-02T05:16:00.004+08:002010-06-02T06:05:46.084+08:00Slipknot/Paul GrayI 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).<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Rest In Peace, Paul Dedrick Gray / #2. Thank you for the music.<br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LXEKuttVRIo&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LXEKuttVRIo&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br />yes you can click it. It's not that "noisy".Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19458169.post-56415347845935760472010-05-25T03:51:00.002+08:002010-05-25T04:20:15.756+08:00DadI 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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?<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />Have I failed you yet again?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0