ju-rants

I Hati Scott Pilgrim

2012-01-07T01:14:00.006+08:00

Scott '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.

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.

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.

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.

Bottom line. I heart Scott Pilgrim
.

Alright, just one more image since I've so fallen in love with print screen. What? I've just learnt to use it ok?

What we all ultimately aspire to reach.

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).

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 radiomaru.com too! And yeah, please don't sue me.

I'm quite bored

2011-12-30T22:50:00.004+08:00

Yeah. 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.

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.

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)

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.

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.

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?

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".

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.

So yeah, loneliness and boredom tends to produce shit entries like these sometimes. Harping about the same bloody issues over and over again.

Happy New Year by the way. I hope you get laid.

Selamat Hari Natal

2011-12-26T23:59:00.006+08:00

Merry 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.

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.

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.

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.

Coming back to tangent subject, I have recently found the following on her wall.

Wait for it......

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.....

WAS I DRUNK THE WHOLE TIME I WAS ATTRACTED TO HER??

Anyway..

Merry Christmas!

Something that rhymes with Hiatus

2011-12-20T18:53:00.006+08:00

Ok, 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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?

Hari Valentine = omong kosong

2011-02-11T23:24:00.003+08:00

Kata 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.

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.

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.

Rafael: Obrigado por seguir o meu blog

2011-02-04T02:23:00.003+08:00

Part 1 (3/2/2011)
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.
Obrigado, Xiexie, nandhri, terima kasih and thanks for the support.

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.

Part 2 (6/2/2011)
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.

Part 3 (15/2/11)
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".

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.

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.

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.

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 Ms Rachel Motte? 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.

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 @ http://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/2011/02/14/not-nice-to-put-another-religion-down/

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.

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.

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.

So, in a nutshell, unless and until Malaysian actually grow a pair of balls, the status quo will remain.

Chesty Coughs/ Not a hipster

2011-01-29T00:52:00.005+08:00

So 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.

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 I'm creepy. 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

6) I have a blog. How anti hipster is that?

Therefore, to conclude, Ladies and Gentlemen, Im not a fucking hipster.

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.

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.

EDIT: this post was written on 29/1/2011 but is only being published on 7/9/2011.

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.

EDIT 3: I obviously didn't die from that viral infection you smartass.

reduxi ceklikan pantas

2011-01-22T18:49:00.005+08:00

Ok, 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.

If you must know, I've finally discovered where I got the rapid flick reference from. Its from the webcomic LeastICouldDo. This panel specifically. Its a funny webcomic. Go read it. Along with Questionable Content and CtrlAltDel. DrMcNinja and Wondermark arent too bad either.

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.

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.

That dream again or Saying yes to the rapid flick

2011-01-20T22:12:00.003+08:00

Hey 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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.

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.

Musik

2011-01-15T06:38:00.002+08:00

As 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".

1) Right in Two by Tool
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.

2)Warning by Incubus
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".

3)Through the Iris by 10 years
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?

4)Speed of sound by Chris Bell
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.

5) Clubbed to Death by Rob Dougan
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.

6)Lonely by Akon
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.

7)Oye Mi Canto by N.O.R.E featuring Nina Sky
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.

8) Give me a call by 311
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.

9)Rap Superstar by Cypress Hill
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.

10) Nobody move, nobody get hurt by We are Scientist
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.

11) Tomorrow by Silverchair
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.

12) I aint the one by NWA
A very humorous and somewhat frank intellectual discussion about male-female relationship dynamics. In gangsta rap. Yup. That's it in a nutshell.

13)L'amour est un oiseau rebelle." ("Love is a rebellious bird) by Georges Bizet
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 this . 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.

14)Mahgeetah by My Morning Jacket
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.

15) Roots Bloody Roots by Sepultura
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.

16)Where is my mind by The Pixies
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.

17)Lapdance by N.E.R.D
*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.

18) The Trooper by Iron Maiden
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.

19)Hardknock Life by Jay-Z
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

20)Amerika by Rammstien
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.

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.

Because reality doesnt apply to powdered chocolate drinks

2010-11-29T22:52:00.004+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

2010-11-17T03:25:00.002+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sesi berteriak #314

2010-10-07T01:34:00.006+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Merdeka(?)

2010-08-31T15:11:00.002+08:00

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

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

Intraweb Blues

2010-07-25T10:59:00.005+08:00

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

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

short

2010-07-17T05:19:00.002+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wonder if there's Indie Hindi music.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Progressively boring shorts = end of blog entry # 149.

Slipknot/Paul Gray

2010-06-02T05:16:00.004+08:00

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

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

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

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

Dad

2010-05-25T03:51:00.002+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have I failed you yet again?

Results of Unemployment #3

2010-05-19T06:26:00.002+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You Have been Watching * Charlie Brooker. Enough said

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Results of Unemployment #2

2010-05-09T11:04:00.003+08:00

so I came across this last night

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

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

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

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

Home or something like it

2010-05-03T11:49:00.004+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

All is dust..

Americana #7

2010-04-26T19:22:00.002+08:00

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

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

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

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

Americana #6

2010-04-15T05:32:00.002+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Americana #5.5

2010-04-08T18:53:00.003+08:00

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

Americana #5

2010-04-07T15:33:00.004+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Americana #4

2010-04-01T19:07:00.004+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

In God's eyes,

everybody's hot,

This world has beauty all through her,

Picture the fattest chick you know,

God would totally do her,

He'd do her all the way,

even call her the next day,

to see how work was going.

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

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

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

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

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

More Than a Feeling

2010-04-01T07:43:00.002+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

re deleted post/ rant #94

2010-03-31T19:59:00.005+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2010-03-31T16:35:00.008+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Americana #3

2010-03-26T16:19:00.005+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shelfari

2010-03-26T14:52:00.001+08:00

Cool......................

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Mom

2010-03-25T13:59:00.003+08:00

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

Happy 57th Birthday Mom. I love you.

Yes yes I know. We're colour coordinated.

Americana #2.5.2/Lonely Day

2010-03-24T19:06:00.002+08:00

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

Happy Birthday Mom.

Americana #2.5

2010-03-22T14:23:00.002+08:00

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

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

Nobody puts Baby in the corner!

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

p.p.s RIP Patrick Swayze.

Americana #2

2010-03-19T00:47:00.005+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

check next week for ju-rants in Americana #3

Americana #1

2010-03-12T23:17:00.003+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

CounterStrike Dreams

2010-03-08T15:38:00.003+08:00

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

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

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

No, this post wasn't about Michelle.

See you in the States

Delayed alcohol induced headache

2010-03-07T21:29:00.003+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

(Another) Drunk Post

2010-03-07T05:44:00.002+08:00

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

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

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

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

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

Links o' rama

2010-03-05T11:14:00.002+08:00

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

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

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

In response to the jumpers and mercenaries leaving PKR:

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

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

b) go here

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

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

Failure in Indifference

2010-03-03T23:59:00.004+08:00

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

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

The inevitable(female point of view)

2010-03-03T11:22:00.003+08:00

you're laughing because you know it's true.

Oh yeah, I won't be in Malaysia come next week. Toodles

You say Stalking, I say Voyeur

2010-02-23T04:35:00.005+08:00

I've been feeling like a museum exhibit the past few days. I'm of course referring to the way my blog and me have been used by Watts as an exercise in getting over Michelle and Michelle being.. Michelle. The end result of this little run in is that I've lost a reader(meh) but have also gained quite a few new readers(Ooh!) thanks to the now infamous but unfortunately non sexual threeway between myself, Watts and Michelle. I know this because I've done quite a fair bit of reading myself. In a way I guess we're all just suckers for voyeurism. We just love to watch other people's shit and get off by the fact that the other person doesn't know we're watching them. Look, but don't touch. That's why strip clubs always do well. It's the restraint that turns us on. Boobs are in my face and I think I felt just a bit of crotch on crotch action. But no touchy touchy or the bouncer named Little Mikey's going to leave you with a few less usable fingers. It's some weird reverse psychology that's for sure. Probably Forbidden Fruit syndrome. Of course, we could all just be really curious about how the voyeuree is doing, but I don't think I'm too far off the mark in saying that this curiosity springs from a deep seated emotional response for the said person, I.E. you/I still do feel something for me/you. But to reconnect again would be too remiss on our part , not too mention too painful or too complicated for others, so I guess we're all just going to have to be content to look at each other from across a chasm mute by choice and paralyzed by past actions. Meh... one of the many many many many idiosyncrasies in this so called life. I'm not going to be losing any sleep over it.

And just like that I have nothing else to talk about. So I'm going to let Jim James and My Morning Jacket lead you out

if we could all cum melodically that's how I would cum.

I don't think about a title till afer I'm done writing

2010-02-21T05:43:00.003+08:00

A lot of people have it in their head that I'm here to entertain them. While I may write in a style which addresses the lot of you sometimes, I'm under no delusion that my blog's the best thing since individually wrapped slices of cheese. That in itself allows for a lot of freedom from restriction, the best of which I consider to write whatever the fuck I want and in the process swear so often that even a Coprolaliac would blush. Most of you should be under no assumption that I'm funny or entertaining. I never made such claims. This blogs does not bring me any income whatsoever and is purely an outlet for the shit that's in my head. I do not have to adhere to some gold fucking standard and reproduce shit that will consistently be funny. In other words, I'm not here to fucking amuse you and if you don't like what you read, you can very well just fuck right off.

Ms Watts; there you go again with your could have's and what if's. How many times do I have to repeat myself? I'm fucking over Michelle. We have both moved on and I really don't need you to come here and tell me that we were fucking meant to be together or some other bullshit. If we were meant to be together we would already have been. But the plain fact of the matter is, we're not and most likely never will be and I think it's a fucking waste of time to dwell on water that's already passed under the bridge. It honestly feels like you're using me as a sort of recreational getting over drug. Yeah, I get the fact that you're heartbroken and shit about her. But please don't try and use me and my blog as a part of your getting over therapy. I have nothing to do with you or her and I would appreciate being left alone. I know I can't stop people from reading this blog and if you enjoy it, thank you sincerely. And sure, you do have the right to your own opinions. But I'm not some pseudo shoulder to cry on. I'm not the guide to getting over Michelle. That part of my life is over and despite the initial pain and sorrow I've just moved on. You can read about our history together but that's just what it is. History. It has no impact on what we both do now other than the fact that yes, we did love one another at one point in time, but are no longer what we once were. The show's over. Get on with your life.

Regarding yesterday's quote-o-rama, here is the list of movies I quoted. For your benefit dear sister. In sequential order;

Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist
Chasing Amy
There will be Blood
V for Vendetta
The Wrestler
Devil's Advocate
Kingdom of Heaven
The Crying Game
Troy
Reservoir Dogs
Dogma

Yeah, I do love that Kevin Smith.

Cinema

2010-02-18T16:36:00.006+08:00

So this is starting to become a very bad habit. I get all worked up about a particular topic and write the shit out of it and after in done writing, I take a long drag from my cigarette and realized what a waste of time that was. I'm practically deflated, my anger lost upon the sea of near inane and futile rantings. I mean yeah, it says ju-rants, but sometimes you just get tired of ranting. No, I don't want to change the name from ju-rants to ju-contemplates and analyzes current socio-political events. The cliff notes of it is, I basically gave a big fuck you to people who love to talk in the cinema. We've all been there, the fucking commentators, the in cinema critic, the fucking guy who answers the phone and KEEPS talking, the high pitch laughter guy, etc. etc. general douchebag behavior. But how does ranting about it help if at all? The person's I'm referring to will suddenly stumble onto this blog and say, "OMG. That was me. I can't believe I was such an asshole. I shan't be doing it again in the cinema, golly gee"? Not fucking likely. So that whole paragraph was basically an exercise in futility at which I am still mildly frustrated and the douchebags will continue to keep talking in the cinema. Oh yeah, kids should be fucking banned from the cinema or any public place/event which requires some level of attention and silence. Kids are kids, you know they can't sit still or keep quiet or have our levels of attention and courtesy. I blame you inconsiderate parents.

So since I've run out of things to talk about, I'm just going to post random movie quotes. Thank you IMDB

"Look, other bands, they want to make it about sex or pain, but you know, The Beatles, they had it all figured out, okay? "I Want to Hold Your Hand." The first single. It's effing brilliant, right?... That's what everybody wants, Nicky. They don't want a twenty-four-hour hump sesh, they don't want to be married to you for a hundred years. They just want to hold your hand."

Banky Edwards: Alright, now see this? This is a four-way road, okay? And dead in the center is a crisp, new, hundred dollar bill. Now, at the end of each of these streets are four people, okay? You following?
Holden: Yeah.
Banky Edwards: Good. Over here, we have a male-affectionate, easy to get along with, non-political agenda lesbian. Down here, we have a man-hating, angry as fuck, agenda of rage, bitter dyke. Over here, we got Santa Claus, and up here the Easter Bunny. Which one is going to get to the hundred dollar bill first?
Holden: What is this supposed to prove?
Banky Edwards: No, I'm serious. This is a serious exercise. It's like an SAT question. Which one is going to get to the hundred dollar bill first? The male-friendly lesbian, the man-hating dyke, Santa Claus, or the Easter bunny?
Holden: The man-hating dyke.
Banky Edwards: Good. Why?
Holden: I don't know.
Banky Edwards: [shouting] Because the other three are figments of your fucking imagination!

Here, if you have a milkshake, and I have a milkshake, and I have a straw. There it is, that's a straw, you see? You watching? And my straw reaches acrooooooss the room, and starts to drink your milkshake....I...drink...your...milkshake!

Voila! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran,cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulant vermin van guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honour to meet you and you may call me V

I just want to say to you all tonight I'm very grateful to be here. A lot of people told me that I'd never wrestle again and that's all I do. You know, if you live hard and play hard and you burn the candle at both ends, you pay the price for it. You know in this life you can loose everything you love, everything that loves you. Now I don't hear as good as I used to and I forget stuff and I aint as pretty as I used to be but god damn it I'm still standing here and I'm The Ram. As times goes by, as times goes by, they say "he's washed up", "he's finished" , "he's a loser", "he's all through". You know what? The only one that's going to tell me when I'm through doing my thing is you people here. You people here, you people here are the ones who are worth bringing it for, because you're my family. I love all of you. Thank you so much

Let me give you a little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He's a prankster. Think about it. He gives man instincts. He gives you this extraordinary gift, and then what does He do, I swear for His own amusement, his own private, cosmic gag reel, He sets the rules in opposition. It's the goof of all time. Look but don't touch. Touch, but don't taste. Taste, don't swallow. Ahaha. And while you're jumpin' from one foot to the next, what is he doing? He's laughin' His sick, fuckin' ass off! He's a tight-ass! He's a SADIST! He's an absentee landlord! Worship that? NEVER!

I put no stock in religion. By the word religion I have seen the lunacy of fanatics of every denomination be called the will of god. I have seen too much religion in the eyes of too many murderers. Holiness is in right action, and courage on behalf of those who cannot defend themselves, and goodness. What god desires is here [points to head] and here [points to heart] and what you decide to do every day, you will be a good man - or not.

...and as they both sink beneath the waves, the frog cries out, "Why did you sting me, Mr. Scorpion? For now we both will drown!" Scorpion replies, "I can't help it. It's in my nature!"

Myrmidons! My brothers of the sword! I would rather fight beside you than any army of thousands! Let no man forget how menacing we are, we are lions! Do you know what's waiting beyond that beach? Immortality! Take it! It's yours!

Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity. And so we ask ourselves: will our actions echo across the centuries? Will strangers hear our names long after we are gone, and wonder who we were, how bravely we fought, how fiercely we loved?

Let me tell you what Like a Virgins's about. It's all about a girl who digs a guy with a big dick. The entire song.. its a metaphor for big dicks. Like a Virgin's not about some sensitive girl who meets a nice fella. That's what True Blue's about. Now, granted, no argument about that. Let me tell you what Like a Virgin's about. It's all about this cooze who's a regular fuck machine. I'm talking morning, day, night, after... dick,dick,dick,dick,dick,dick,dick,dick,dick.. Then one day she meets this John Holmes motherfucker. She's getting this serious dick action and she's feelin' something she ain't felt since forever. Pain. Pain. It hurts. It hurts her. It shouldn't hurt her. You know, her pussy should be Bubble Yum by now, but when this cat fucks her, it hurts. It hurts just like it the first time. You see, the pain is reminding a fuck machine what it was once like to be a virgin. Hence... Like a Virgin.

The humans have besmirched everything bestowed on them. They were given Paradise, they threw it away. They were given this planet, they destroyed it. They were favored best among all His endeavors, and some of them don't even believe He exists. And in spite of it all, He's shown them infinite fucking patience at every turn. What about us? I asked you... once to lay down the sword because I felt sorry for them. What was the result? Our expulsion from Paradise. WHERE WAS HIS INFINITE FUCKING PATIENCE THEN? IT'S NOT RIGHT, IT'S NOT FAIR.

yeah it only just occurred to me that this was a very cinema themed post, what with the rant about cinema's a movie quotes.

Annual V day rant

2010-02-17T02:45:00.004+08:00

fuck me.. (I meant that literally and figuratively. I haven't had sex for so long it's not even funny anymore. When I tell people how long I haven't been laid I just get looks of pity.) I've been sitting here for the past hour just typing utter nonsense. The last thing I wrote here was just one long diatribe about how much I hate other people who blog and tweet endlessly about infinitely boring shit before realizing that I'm doing the exact fucking thing. I then proceeded to highlight everything and press backspace. So yeah, fuck me, I can only write good shit when I'm slightly inebriated. Which is quite an oxymoron because I don't generally like drinking. The occasional can of beer or 2 yes, but not quite the levels I was reaching in my younger days. So here I am, sober, and unable to blog.

I suppose I could do my annual Valentines Day rant about how it's all fucking bullshit capitalist tactics to get you to spend your hard earned cash on expressing your love to someone on 1 of 3 days of the year where it's supposedly a significant day to show your significant other how important they are to you, never mind the other 362 days. I guess that's what I hate the most about Valentines day. It applies false significance to just another goddamned day. What, I can only have 3 days to show my love for someone? Birthday, Anniversary and Valentines Day? Fuck, if that person was worth it, I would buy her 365 roses for every single day she's with me. In fact, why the fuck do I even have to buy anything? Because that's love nowadays. Material wants and gains. It used to be that all you had to do was hold someone's hand and tell them you love them while looking deeply into their eyes. Roses, rings, steak dinners, holidays, what the fuck would it all matter if you were fucking someone else behind my back? People love to affix some great cosmic significance to the most minute and useless things in life when all it is is just some primal gesture to show your mate that yeah, I'm the big man, I can provide for you. See this rose? Didn't even make a dent in your wallet. I'm a worthy mate that can provide shelter, food and care for our offspring. So yeah, that's what Valentines day is, just an exercise in false pretenses and nonsensical affiliation and affirmation of "love". Here's the score; if you need to keep fucking asking for some affirmation of love from someone, then it's not really working out is it? Get a fucking clue and just be glad you found somebody already for fuck's sake.

Fuck Valentines day.

buah kalam minuman keras

2010-02-13T04:24:00.003+08:00

So in times of alcohol consumption, I find myself in contemplation. Needless to say, the past year was just absolutely shit. But like my past relationships I just have to keep moving on. I mean fuck, what the hell good does it do me to watch the world go by as I stand still and brood about what ifs and could haves? That's the epiphany I had in the emo park in TTDI. Just keep fucking moving on. I don't know what lies ahead of me in life. I could walk across the street and bam, right into a bus sans the cartoon effect. I could wake up tomorrow and find out I have cancer and life live like everyday's my last day. I could find the woman of my dreams or I could find an awesome fuck buddy and fuck her while shouting "IM THE KING OF FUCK MOUNTAIN!"on a daily basis. Come to think of it, the future is one big could be as well. Bottom line is, I don't know what's going to fucking happen, but I do know that I'm going to live my life day by day and face whatever shit God decides to put in my path with a wry, tired smile and a carton of cigarettes.

This next paragraph is an ode to the girl I never knew but wish I had. She's the kind of girl where, whether you take her out for a gala level dinner or just having a roti telur bawang at the mamak, you feel so special just being with her and so grateful that she's with you that if you were the religious type you did be in church everyday kneeling before the big imaginary friend called God and weeping your thanks and gratitude for being blessed with the most special person in the world. She makes you feel great even when you feel like slitting your wrist. She anchors you in the great tempest of doubt and uncertainty and helps you find your way. She doesn't have to say anything at all but you feel like you've just had the greatest conversation in the world with her. She can say something mundane about the weather and you did pay rapt attention to the way her lips move, the way the light catches her. You can sit for hours just looking at her and feel like you've seen the greatest art piece in the world. You would construct the greatest monuments rivaling the seven wonders of the world in her honour and write poetry that would make even John Keats feel like he's inadequate, a mere footnote in the literary world. Even a second away from her feels like an eternity. You want her to meet your parents and not worry if they'll like her or not. You want her to be the mother of your children and you want to grow old with her but still feel like a kid when she holds your hand when you're both old and gray and sitting on the porch watching the world go by. You wouldn't even care, because to you, she is your world. The girl does exist, but she is not mine. To the guy that got her, I just want to hate you so bad but I can't because you're just too fucking nice. Take care of this century's Helen you lucky bastard. Godspeed your love and her happiness.

Even with that heart wrenching realization, we must keep moving on. To tarry even one second would spell doom and gloom and near endless nights of weeping and melancholy. There is a difference between indifference and moving on. Indifference infers that we blind ourselves to the fact that a wrong has been done but nothing will be done to address it while it slowly festers. Indifference gives a silent consent to being fucked over. Indifference means allowing wrong to triumph over right. Indifference means you stopped caring about the world and would rather stew in your denial than face your problems. Moving on however....

Closing quote : "Courage is not the absence of fear, but simply moving on with dignity despite that fear"

Yeah. I wrote all that and I'm drunk.

Results of Unemployment

2010-02-12T02:26:00.003+08:00

so here's the nitty gritty of it. I've resigned from Project Malaysia effective from the 25th of February 2010. It is liberating on the one hand while on the other, I feel, like all my other past relationships, I could have gotten so much more out of it if the other side had just put in more effort into making it work. Unlike my past relationships however, it is not an acrimonious split and I thank my employer for at the very least giving me a pseudo job that allowed me to say to other people "I have a job and I'm not living off daddy and mummy". No great feat by any measure of course, but in this life, you take what you can get. Sure, it's not as glamorous as say, a lawyer or a doctor or even an accountant or one of those corporate exec. jobs, but I never went hungry nor was I ever found wanting except during the last few months due to the lack of job satisfaction. I don't know what's next. Contemplating the future is scary. But so is the inevitable realization that one day the money will run out and you cant even afford to eat plain rice with just a dash of soy sauce. I will find something or other soon. But for now, me and employment need our own space.

So now that I'm just another unemployed 25 year old graduate with a degree, I do in fact have more time to blog. Not that I'm about to give Kenny Sia or Tucker Maxx a run for their money of course. Their pedestal in the blogsphere shall remain untouched and under no threat from someone who sometimes spells plain "plaine" if not for spellchecker. Fuck, I don't even post pictures of remotely hot and socially accessible through invites to club events girls and/or videos unless its from youtube. In hindsight, I wouldn't want to either. I like my private life to remain private unless I wish for you to intrude upon it like a rape fantasy. So no big J in a red ball in front of Bangsar Village to show that I approve and endorse eating at said premise for me then. "So why complain about it in the first place?" I can imagine you saying. Because Im vocally neurotic and an unashamed approval whore. That's all I have to offer you, my sort of wit and my neuroticism. Lets face it, I, like the rest of you, mostly, lead a very dull and unexciting life and I'm hardly a contender for Cleo's most eligible bachelor or even it's make belief spin off reality show Pity Dating. I make up for that by saying socially unconventional things and trying to fight awkwardness with perverseness. In a sense, I out awkward you by being disturbing. Yes, I'm like that. I hate losing. Colloquially called kiasu in Malaysia/Singapore or even insistent in some more English influenced areas. Most if not all of you will blame it on me being a Virgo but I'm here to tell you that my horoscope has nothing to do with my character. Pseudo science hardly impresses me and mere correlation and happenstance does not lend credibility and certainty when trying to ascertain someone's character in regards to when they were born. In a word, utter crap fuck bullshit. So sit back and relax as my wordpenis enters your warm wet consciousnessvagina and let yourself non-cum to a relentless barrage of inane nonsensical rantfucking while you question yourself why you ever visited here in the first place.

I don't know if I already mentioned(and if you've heard me rant about this, skip to the next paragraph) this but most girls I know are like cooking shows. Hey look, its awesome looking medium rare filet mignon that just came off the grill and served with a side of mash potatoes and a garden salad with a tangy vinaigrette. If it was a girl it would look like Megan Fox just coming out of the swimming pool with a bikini so skimpy that there's a little bit of under boob and areola showing. And that analogy nicely moves the point that once we get all gastronomically hard for the food, the chef then looks up and says, coyly, "That's all for today, join us next week" before digging in him/herself and the screen fades to black and the credits roll. We are therefore left gastronomically unsatisfied and make do with a cheap hooker sandwich or at the very worst go to bed hungry and dry eating our pillow. For those with an IQ lower than the ringworm in your intestines, I'm talking about how girls love to posture and tease but don't have an endgame involving the bed and a cum filled condom or face. Less on the less sexual point, boring as that may sound, stop teasing if you aren't going to bring it. Stop showing a little midriff and layaning our aroused minds and then saying, literally and figuratively, "You ain't going to get some of this". Stop it. Hooker sandwiches and appointments with Ms Palm are getting very boring.

Shit, now I feel horny and hungry. *Cue montage of images consisting of a female silhouette eating a banana, taco filling being licked, a hot dog being laid on a hot dog bun, a mcdonald's cone being licked a little too sensually, a champagne bottle being popped open, Nigella Lawson licking chocolate sauce that "accidentally" got on her middle finger, a banana split ice cream with two mounds of ice cream topped with cherries, a burrito being eaten by a woman who just put on fresh lipstick.. etc etc.

Ok.. so this blog got sexual really fast after the wordpenis metaphor

I hate 500 days of summer. I hate it because it so realistic. If I wanted to see a movie about lost and unrequited and frankly fucked up love I would have gone all Truman Show/ EdTv on myself. I wanted to be entertained by the notion that at least in movie land a fella can hope and dream a little for at least 1 1/2 hour before drudging back to his own monotonous and unfulfilled life. I though that's what movies were for. Instead we get an Indie grade production about a woman who tells the protagonist that she does not want a boyfriend but then ends up getting married to someone else while having the fucking gall to invite him to the engagement party and the wedding while our poor sod still harbors some unrequited love for her. Sounds too fucking familiar for me. I hate how she plays him, how she tells him she does not want a relationship while at the same time willing to rent porno to watch with the sod before telling him that they could totally do what the professionals are doing. I hate how she breaks up with him after watching the Graduate. I hate how she can let him get close to her again at the co workers wedding and then invite him to a party which is actually her engagement party I hate how she invades his personal spot in the park even after taking his heart crushing it into a thousand pieces. I HATE HER! Oh yeah.. Spoiler alert.

Alright, so my porn entitled sasha grey fucked dirty has already finished loading and I think I'll close with a quote;

"If Tom had learned anything... it was that you can't ascribe great cosmic significance to a simple earthly event. Coincidence. That's all anything ever is. Nothing more than coincidence. "

No, I have no filter. It got taken away from me by alien lesbians.

Quantum Problem or How I should really write for tv dramedy

2010-02-11T14:13:00.005+08:00

Thank you for your continued readership Ms Watts. People have been put off by far less vitriolic posts. It leads me to believe that you're either really thick skinned or you're a kindred spirit. I do not cope with something which I can't help. Like I said, the Michelle ship has sailed a long time ago and there's nothing I can do to bring it back, nor would I really want to. I do not pretend that I can just forget her. How the hell do you forget someone who's fucked you up so many times? I just try to live day to day and keep it all out of sight and out of mind except for masturbatory purposes. End of the day, she is her own person. Her world view is basically: it's her world and we're all just living in it, and if you don't like that, you can very well just fuck off from it.

So you want to know how to cope? You don't. You just try to live your life on the run from that which is the Michelle quantum and hopefully one day you get tired of running and realize how far behind you left her. For fuck's sake, we're only running away from what if's and could have's. God knows the actual person herself couldn't give a damn if you ran off the edge of the world. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can stop running from her and start running to something better. Sorry for the running euphemisms and analogies. Am on a current running(the actual physical one where you put on a pair of running shoes) kick.

Hah... Im fucking commiserating with one of Michelle's partners. I never thought I did see the day.

Neurotic Vitriolic

2010-02-11T01:22:00.007+08:00

Miss Watts, I have no idea about what song you're referring to but would be very interested to listen to a song that successfully incorporates the words "guile" into it. Furthermore, I have no idea why you're trying to contact me. I know who you are and I want nothing to do with you. Do not try to commiserate with me about Michelle. That ship has sailed a long time ago and it shan't be returning to port anytime. Honestly the only time I think about her is during the brief interludes of sleep and dreams over which I have no control over the content being shown by my subconscious mind. And when I masturbate, because she gave extremely good head. She has made clear her position to me that we shall never ever be anything, platonic or otherwise, again and that is the final chapter of our little novella. The last time I spoke to her? After her house got burgled. I sent an email with my condolences and support, as any civil person would. Of course seeing as she hates my guts because im too fucking emotional, I never got a reply, but then again I wasn't expecting one anyway. So why send it? Because im fucking neurotic.

Yes, she can be and is sometimes a bitch. She can't keep a relationship because she doesn't know what she wants and if the supposed "love of her life" turns into something that she will not/could not deal with in her own skewered view of the universe, she breaks it off like a a gardener would a flower that has suddenly stopped blooming. 7 relationships in 7 years should have really clued you in on that but I suppose, like you said, this "love" blinds us all and is just so fucking boundless.

Thank you for your concern about my supposed rut but I can assure you that it is absolutely none of your business whether I'm in a relationship or if I some neurotic emotional fuck who smokes too much for his own good but is secretly trying to kill himself from lung cancer. Or whether im happy or sad or in an emotional rut. Or how many times i masturbate a day thinking about your ex sucking my dick. What's it to you anyway? Do not pretend to be nice to an enemy of your enemy and play on the fact that we are somehow connected by the fact that we both got fucked over by the same person. I'm not your friend and I don't need more friends. And in regards to your healer cum tarot card reader, you don't really need to see a peddler of hocus pocus nonsensical bullshit to know what Michelle's character is like.

Good day to you.

Dr Professor Ricardo Julio Vargas

2010-01-24T19:35:00.004+08:00

Being indifferent is hard. Especially since it's not within your character to do so. And I'm quite a character. I wear my heart on my sleeves like it was going out of fashion. That's who I am and no amount of Tony Robbins-esque talk will ever change that. Unless i go through ANOTHER traumatic life changing experience. Even then it would be like "ok, I've been here before, I've dealt with it. Have a cigarette or 20 and you'll be fine." I hope it would be like that anyway.

So yeah, day 12 of an indifferent life. Indifferent towards the opposite sex or more specifically the pursuit of them into having a meaningful relationship. Mixed feelings mostly. On the one hand I feel completely at ease not having to chase after someone, not having to exert any effort in trying to get a certain someone to have feelings for me which they didn't have before. Now I only have to worry about myself and that's a real easy matter to take care of. Simple guy, simple worries(unless it involves the opposite sex and driving) . The current crop of crisis' have stopped for the time being and life is as content as it can get. I mean sure, I wouldn't mind a ps3 or an uber pc which would allow me to play games which I can conquer the world and take my real life frustrations out on my AI controlled denizens by ruling them with an oppressive iron fist that is the Empire of Julmeria. All Hail Emperor Me! Er... yes.. off tangent discourse there. I mean yeah, I would like all those things, but I'm still pretty alright without them

Now, we come to the other grubby little needy hand. I loathe the feeling of being alone. I absolutely hate the feeling that I can't put my hands around someone and hug them close to me just because I want that warmth. I hate it that there isn't someone stroking my hair and telling me everything is all right while I rest on their warm bosom. I just want to hold someone's hand and talk about everything and nothing and still have a great time just being with each other. I just like the feeling of being wanted by someone who I can also make out with and if im really fucking lucky, have the sex with. No, I can't afford the "girlfriend treatment" from prostitutes either. Neither would i want to of course. The fact that I know im paying for that is already a major turn off. I want the above and beyond friendship companionship from a girl, if that could be conceived in our over analytical minds. And not actively looking for that is akin to wanting to eat bread but not going to get it because you don't want to drive and get that particular brand of bread because you know there are better brands out there and/or they're currently sold out of it and you can wait for a while till they get new stock but you're really hungry for bread right now. Yeah, that didn't make sense to me either but im just too lazy to backspace/highlight and then backspace it. And I just made a peanut butter sandwich.

So yeah, I'm doing fine. For now.

This is an sms conversation my dad and me had recently

Me: What time are you going to see Hermes tomorrow?

Dad: 9am. I hope we can take him back tomorrow

Me: I hope so too. He looks so sad in that cage

Dad: I know. That's why I want to bring him back.

Me: Guess we have to see what the doctor says tomorrow. Hopefully we can bring him back.

Dad: Insyah Allah. Opps.

Me: Hahaha. Nice one

For those who don't get it, Re Allah argument in Malaysia. Opps myself. For the MCMC and the ISA my name is Professor Dr Ricardo Julio Vargas and my dad's name is Ernesto Serna Vargas y Guevarra. We are both Argentinians living in Malaysia.

And yeah. Hermes was sick last week. Vomiting blood. He's better now that lovable furball.

Dad: If you want to have sex get a whore. If you want companionship get a dog.
Im inclined to agree with him on that.

Park induced thoughts

2010-01-12T06:49:00.002+08:00

there's a park on top of a hill in TTDI. It was first brought to my knowledge by Joyce. Her emo spot as she callled it. A place to think. I have co-opted this spot and it has now become my emo spot. Here are the results of my reflections and so called revelations

I don't actually love anyone. When I mean love I don't familial love. That's a given. I don't mean friendship and brotherhood either. No, I'm talking about a "love" between your significant other. My current pursuit of the Ivory Tower Dweller has come to naught. I mean, the fact that to even get you out of your house requires so much work and cooperation from outside parties speaks volumes about your character. I know everything there is about you, but you're still a stranger to me. It dawned upon me, upon a cloud of smoke luminescent in the street light that I don't love you, but I love the idea of you. I love, nay want, the love, companionship and all that good stuff that reputedly comes from a relationship. Quite simply, I'm sick and tired of being alone. But then why the need to want you? To keep hoping against hope that you'll one day magically realize that I was always there waiting for you? Upon honest reflection, Im keeping the hope because there is simply no other pursuit, and I dread to be hopeless. You are basically the Alpha and Omega of my non love life. And I feel that that's unfair. Unfair that I should limit myself to you and unfair to you because you don't know what is it that you want. Or more precisely, you're afraid to want. Can't say that I blame you. Lots of baggage. But it's a bit hypocritical to always claim to wait for your White Knight while a real one waits for you to descend your Ivory Tower. The fact is, I'm the best you got but don't want. And I guess it's time to do a chinaman and cut my losses and move on, hard as it may be. It feels like being cast in the sea with nothing but driftwood to cling on to. And it's slowly disintegrating.

I had another paragraph before this regarding the church burnings, but when i read it back it sounded pretty much like reactive and angry rhetoric that would make me no better than the crazies hurling petrol bombs at churches. I've not been known in recent times to be a big fan of God/Jesus/Allah/Buddha/Jehovah/Yahweh/Vahiguru/Krishna/Vishnu/Kali/Xemu/Bob the Annointed/ The Big Man. I suppose He gives everyone else a sense of hope and belief. He never did for me despite trying to be a good person. Big I believe in Him/Her/It nonetheless despite my misgivings. So what actually disturbs me about the burnings is the fact that it's actually happening. I mean, yes, the signs have been there. The rhetoric, the thinly veiled pseudo racists religious threats being made to the gallery. But for the much touted 1Malaysia multi racial mutli religious harmony peace love and brotherhood song and dance, it was something we could all get behind for once, despite it being just a song and dance. I guess it just caught me off guard, this sudden and violent realization of the harsh truth of the matter. We are all just racist pricks and the dream of a Malaysian Malaysia crashed and burned like the churches. We live in a country where the walls of "trying to live with each other harmoniously despite our differences" has been brought crumbling down and no matter what happens next, things will never be the same. The Malaysia I grew up in died on Friday. We can all hold hands now and sing Cumbayah(Yes, I've read the newspaper. Muslims and non Muslims alike are being united in condemnation), but the Malaysian psyche has been shattered. Fringe or not, it still happened. There are actually Malaysians who believe they are the master race and they will enforce the point with force and terror. Where and what does that leave the rest of us? Hope? Unity? It's hard to have hope and unity when churches are burning and cows heads are being kicked and spat upon. I used to think that, despite the misgivings( and by defining the fucked up shit that happens here as mere misgivings is already being generous) we at least had the freedom of religion. It seems even that thought now has to come under some revision.

There. I said my piece on both issues. Im pretty sure the latter can be more articulated and rational but hey, if I could have done that I would have been a writer. Oh...wait... I meant a GOOD writer. There are plenty of other good writers out there having their say on this issue, and probably sounding much better, but hey, its not like anyone reads this blog anyway.

my morning jacket

2009-12-05T10:07:00.002+08:00

Lay low why don't ya now?
Lay back awhile and I'll show ya, I got the good that you want
no need to go and, hunt something else, it's right here with me, when you stay.
It's always good when I get to see that there's never more than what you're telling me when you
stay, home.

Lay low if the feel is right, (let the fetus rock) I got all that I want here in you tonight
and we'll pass out on the bedroom floor after goin' like this (full tilt) so long
when you stay.

Hold up, you showed me.
Oh what you told me, it's not what you want but what you need
it's not a head full of pills or amphetamines, when you stay.
It's always good when I get to see that there's never more than what you're telling me when you
stay, home

followed by 3 minutes of sheer guitar bliss.

yes, im feeling better.

bad day

2009-12-03T01:11:00.002+08:00

I don't usually blog about my daily life. Mostly because its boring even to my own skewered biased opinion. But when some close personal friends of the family use emotional blackmail.. its really puts one in a dilemma. Without going into specifics, they ask for a non possibility, which I have hinted so at certain points in time. But they refuse to take the hint and have pleaded for me to move heaven and earth. At the same time im guilt ridden to the fact that i am unable to deliver them from their current malaise and that they're really close friends of the family. The answer will most definitely be no, but its the implications and complications that have me turning gray. I hate to see adults cry. Especially when im part of the cause. This is besides the fact that there has been emotional blackmail as mentioned above, which really rubs me the wrong way.

My grandma, my one sole remaining grandparent, is in hospital. She was supposed to be discharged yesterday but has now dislocated her shoulder. The blame lies square on the fucking incompetent staff of Pantai Hospital. But they have denied this. Saying its an old injury. Bullshit, you dont get you fucking shoulder dislocated while lying on a hospital unless its by the fucking careless, useless, unqualified and unprofessional staff. They should not be allowed near patients and they should fucking resign for the safety of all the patients at the hospital. Don't try to tell me to calm down. You be there, beside your grandmother who's crying from the pain. Telling me things like she wishes she was dead and why it's so painful. You fucking be there and you fucking answer her, because i sure as hell cant you insensitive motherfuckers. At least even pretend to fucking care and take care of the old lady. Attend to her. Is it so fucking hard to administer some painkillers and find the fucking attending doctor? I don't give a fuck about the other patients. Is my grandmother not one as well? Is this the fucking service we get for paying your ridiculous fees? More so now since you fucking caused her latest injury thereby prolonging her stay. Pantai Hospital is fucking unbelievable and I have more than half a fucking mind to fucking sue. Bad enough you killed my grandfather when he was there you fucking assholes. Don't even get me started on the toll its taking on my auntie. You motherfuckers are one fucking piece of work. God help those who are coming to your fucking hospital with your incompetent staff. I did rather kill myself than get admitted to that charnel house that you call a hospital. Im not a religious man but I hope you get what's coming to you. That's how much i fucking hate you. You think the scene I caused that day was too much? You havent seen anything yet. Fuck you Pantai Hospital.

In addition to all of that, the overwhelming feeling of standing at the edge of an abyss of a bottomless well of lonliness is not helping my mental and emotional state to say the least. I try not to fall in, or to let the well overflow, but sometimes, especially like yesterday, it consumes me completely and it drowns me in a sea of melancholy. Sometimes I really do wonder if I will forever be alone...

Nothing the above is of my doing yet why is it that i feel on the verge of a mental breakdown Of loosing grip in a tempestuous sea? I feel like im a drowning man. My feet cant touch the floor and im flailing about as i inevitably go under the emotional tide.

God, I need some help, or at least the comfort of a warm bosom and a caring shoulder on which to rest my weary head on. Oh, thats right. God is a fucking asshole. Fucking Christian groups. Deliver your believer from their pains and ailments. Where the fuck was Jesus when my grandmother was crying in pain? Where the fuck werw all your miracles? How the fuck are we suppose to love you when we do everything that you ask of us but you abandon us in the time of our need? Fuck God and fuck religion. Fucking opiate of the delusional masses.

Please... just help me.. im just really hurting right now.

Response

2009-11-30T15:05:00.002+08:00

this is a response to http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/11/30/focus/5205852&sec=focus

To AR, I passed, Subang Jaya

Having read your letter, I'm somewhat amused that you think we actually live in a system that works. Could you please tell that to the batch of students who aren't allowed to go to university due to a quota system EVEN THOUGH they've worked hard at their grades. Similarly, to say that Professional Exams in this country run on a fair system is a somewhat myopic view. It's all well and good to stand on the other side having passed the examination and judge those who you have seemed fit to deem lazy, or that they did not care about their studies or some other condescending remark that you care to pass. This is not taking away anything from your kind self. I'm sure you worked hard to achieve your passing grade and kudos. But don't you dare sit there and say that everyone else was just too stupid and lazy to pass their exams. Even you've said it, 9% passing rate is disgraceful. But to place the blame solely on the 91% of those who failed is irrational. I take great offense to your condescending tone. Just because you were one of the lucky few to escape the quota does not give you the right to be holier than the rest of us. Yes, I agree Professional Exams need to be tough to maintain standards, but a 9% passing rate is just ridiculous. The whys and wherefores of this I shall not delve into, but suffice to say, it is not a fair system. You need to get off your pedestal and realize this and stop criticizing those who have to go through the misfortune of repeating a professional exam through no fault of their own, other than being a victim of the system.

Memorable quotes 2

2009-11-27T11:20:00.004+08:00

Me( Valentines Day 2005): Hey, wanna buy something for your Valentine?
Random Girl: Erm, I don't have a boyfriend.
Me: I can be your boyfriend
Random Girl: *laughs
Me: Everything on this table is for sale. EVERYTHING

Me: Yes, this bus goes through Ashton Road
Old white guy: Oh. Thank you. You speak very good english
Me: Thanks. So do you.
Old white guy: *Puzzled expression

Interviewer: Oh, your english name is also your chinese name! How clever!
Me: Thanks. My parent's thought so too.

Me: I'll have a.. um...um...er...ah...er..um..um...ah...erm...
Hooters Waitress: My face is up here sweetie
Me: I'll have a bud light!

Drunk white girl: So where are you staying? Do you have a place of your own?
Me: Oh, No I don't have a place of my own. I'm a tourist.
Drunk white girl: Oh cool! I'm a Pieces.
Me: *sniggers

Random girl: Hey Ju-lian. Are you on drugs
Me:... Do you want the politically correct answer or should I just say yes?
Random girl: *Puzzled expression

Random Internet Chat girl: You are understand?
Me: Nope. I'm Ju-Lian
Random Internet Chat girl has left chat

Jeremy: You don't have a hand towel in the toilet?
Me: No
Jeremy: That doesn't make sense. How do you dry your hands?
Me: I guess i just jazz hands it

Random Internet Chat Girl 2(RICG2): Hi there!
Me: Hello
RICG2: a/s/l/r?
Me: 17/m/kl/c. You?
RICG2: 17/f/seremban/c
Me: so what are you doing on so late?
RICG2: bored. looking for internet sex
RICG2: im wearing nothing but a yellow thong.
Me: You're a guy right?
RICG2 has left chat.

Me: Man, I miss having a girlfriend
Lesbian Roommate: Yeah, me too.
Me: *puzzled expression (Inner Voice) Aw come on! Seriously? Even here?

Me: Arvind! Heal me!
Arvind: I can't! Im out of mana!
Me: Your fucking mana's like your wallet! Always fucking empty!

Michelle: I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you
Me: Well it's a little too late for that now isn't it?

Acquaintance: Gi Gyn said you have stalker eyes
Me: The latest product from ZsaZsa's eye make up line

Acquaintance 2: Wow Ju-lian. your eyes are bloodshot. Didn't get enough sleep?
Me: Yes Captain Obvious
Acquaintance 2: Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today
Me: Im a morning person. Can't you tell?

Kevin: Man, what if we could get smart by fucking nerds? *humps imaginary nerd
Me: I'll bet they're saying "Oh Kev! You're harder than Intellectual Property!"
Shah: *uncontrollable laughter

Random guy at school: Hey Ju-Lian I've been hearing the guys talk about you. Can I just ask..are you really Jewish?
Me: DO I FUCKING LOOK JEWISH TO YOU??

Grandma: So how does Ju's girlfriend look like?
Aunt: Well, she's kinda chubby.
Grandma: Well, it's not like Ju's thin. Fat people need love too you know?

Order Date: 26/11/09 Order time: 21:19

Phone No: XXXX XXXX Customer Name: Teh Juan

Memorable quotes 1

2009-11-26T11:48:00.003+08:00

Me:(circa 1994-1995): Mom, why didn't dad stay at home tonight?
Mom: Ju, he's not going to be staying here anymore.

Me (2002): Good Morning Ms Nathan.
Ms Nathan: Good Morning Ju-Lian. We're done with class yes?
Me: ...Yes
Ms Nathan: Alright, I'll see you next week. Have a good weekend
Me: You too Ms Nathan
Mohd. Faliq: Ju-lian, where's Ms Nathan? *peers out classroom window. Is she coming?
Me: She thought that class was over. I didn't feel the need to inform her otherwise.

Me(2001): I love you
Michelle: I love you too

Me (2001): Do you love me?
Michelle: I don't know
Me: ... What do you mean?
Michelle: There's someone else...

Me(2003) : Hey Yoke Leng, you managed to get the reload card right?
Yoke Leng: Yes. Thank you.
Me: Cool
Yoke Leng: Hey.. You know I have a boyfriend right?
Me: No.. But thanks for telling me.
Me(out of earshot): Fuck...

Me (2003 post first kiss): I love you
Michelle: I love you too.
Me: ..Was it supposed to be that wet?

Me (2003): I wish this could last forever
Michelle: Hmmm?
Me: Lying in bed with you in my arms
Michelle: Mmm

Michelle: Shut up and kiss me already
Me: Yes maam

Michelle(2004): I don't love you anymore. I still have feelings for them
Me: What do you mean?
Michelle: I'm still a lesbian.
Michelle: Can I come over and collect my stuff from your place?
Me: Take your shit and get the hell out of my life

Me(2005): Are you alright?
Gi Gyn: Yeah. Thanks for catching me
Me: It's alright
Gi Gyn: Did I step on your feet?
Me: Yeah
Gi Gyn: Ohmigod, I'm so sorry
Me: Don't worry about it

Me: I'm bored. You?
Gi Gyn: Very
Me: Want to have lunch later? Just you and me?
Gi Gyn: I would love to
Me: I'm thinking chicken rice
Gi Gyn: Me too
Me: Great minds think alike. Or should that be hungry stomach?

Me: Hey.
Gi Gyn: Hi
Me: How was the weekend?
Gi Gyn: Boring
Me: I can relate
Surin: Whoo.. Gi gyn and Ju-lian going out!
Gi Gyn: We're not going out.

Me: Are you pissed at me or something?
Gi Gyn: No
Me: Then why aren't you talking to me and ignoring me and shit?
Gi Gyn: You just need to relax alright?
Me: Sure...

Tupps: Give it up man. She's just a bitch
Me: I seem to be attracting that sort a lot lately.

Me(2006): Dad, I passed second year. All the subjects
Dad: That's good to hear son. Im proud of you.

Me (2006. Bristol): Hi. Wanna dance?
I dont remember your name: Sure!
Me(later): You dance really well.
Nameless: Thanks!
Me: Where are you from?
Nameless: Subang
Me: Cool. You want to get a drink? On me
Nameless: Sure!
Me(even later): So...um... do you have a boyfriend here in Bristol?
Nameless: Nope. Single.
Some guy: Hey baby! *hugs her from behind
Nameless: Hey
Me(end of the evening): So who was that guy?
Nameless:..It's complicated
Me: Uh huh...

Me( circa 22nd birthday; inebriated): Did you know Amzonian warriors cut of their left tit so that it wouldnt interfere with their bow string when they drew their bows?
Adam: I think you've had enough to drink Ju
Me: Quite possibly...

Drunk white girl: You're all Malaysian??
Me: Yeah
Drunkie: But you look like you're from China, and you look like you're from India
Me: Yeah, we're a multi racial country
Drunkie: Oh wow! Can you speak some Malaysian for me?
Me(to Shah and Kevin): Apa 'sal perempuan mabuk ni?

Me(now) : I need to get laid

Me: Does she speak english?
Owner of reputable establishment: No, she can speak Lao
Me: Right. And that's supposed to help me how?

Me: I think I can do radio
Tupps: Yeah? Do an improv announcement now
Me: And thats all for sports. In other news Lady Gaga may in fact be a man. So, are we supposed to address her as Sir Gaga now?

Hot neighbor: Oh what a cutie!
Me: Thanks! The dog's cute too right?
Hot neighbor: *awkward and slightly frightened laugh

Me: You guys think im just a sexual deviant is it?
Dre and Arvind: Er....
Me: You guys know me so well

Me: So, you got a boyfriend?
Hilda: Nope
Me(Inner voice): Alright...
Hilda: I have a fiancee
Me(Inner voice): Fuck...

Me: So i just did this compatibility test thing and it say me and yoke leng are 50% compatible
Arvind: Eh, so that means you can... and cannot lar
Me: .....ok Genius

Review for year ending 2009

2009-11-16T03:36:00.003+08:00

December 08: Looking for job. Wanting independence and a chance to prove that the world is my oyster. Towards Christmas it seems like an exercise in futility. Melancholic at New Years Eve.

January: Still looking for a job. Turned down offers on dad's insistence and my own. At logger heads with the old man regarding career paths. A 23 year old law graduate who failed his bar exam, jobless and still depending on parental allowance.

February: Yoke Leng. Painful realization its not going to happen despite best intentions. Michelle, rekindled. Kissed. Start to a descent. Got a job at Project Malaysia. Research Assistant. Working with Malik Imtiaz and Michelle Gunaselan. Excited. Paternal Grandfather died. Tears.

March: Progress. Work and semi love life with Michelle. First pay check. Gave dad Rm300. First published article. Slumdog Millionaire. Fight with Michelle. Worst to come

April: Michelle is gone. For good. Not dead, don't misunderstand. Just emotionally. Works starts to get frustrating. Lots of false pontificates. Wrote second article. Unpublished.

May: Work continues to stall. Growing frustration. Wrote 3rd article. Not published. E-mails and calls. No reply. Feel an ever widening emotional gulf

June: Fuck work. Michael Jackson died. Felt a little bit sad. Hypocritical me and the world. Start to drink again. Not due to Michael Jackson's death. Wrote 4 and 5th article. Unpublished

July: Too boring to remember. Hate work for lack of work. Worrying about future employment. Smoking more than usual.

August: Independence day. Forgettable as usual. Contract extension to the end of the year. Will still be able to pay bills. Nice new LCD tv. Rediscovered martial arts.

September: 24th anniversary of my birth. Injured back. Drinking regularly. Attending martial arts class. Nice hobby from humdrum. Promise self to lose weight and quit drinking and smoking

October: Phuket trip. Best time of my life so far. See work as nothing but a passionless paycheck. Wrote 6th article. Still unpublished.

November: Wrote 7th article. Unpublished. Maternal Grandfather dies.

Today: 3 hours before final funeral rites and the burial proper. Two days of Taoist rituals. I can't shed tears but am still sad nonetheless. I think I only ever said 10 words to the man. I didnt speak Hakka. He didnt speak English. I lost both grandfather's in the space of 9 months. I am still single with no Michelle sans the drama like replacement in sight. Drinking more frequently than usual. Smoking more. Gained more weight instead of losing. Fear I am going down a self destructive road of no return. Hope everything turns out for the better next month and next year. Am highly doubtful.

It's been some year.

This is why I don't blog regularly.

Anecdote

2009-10-21T06:20:00.003+08:00

I remember there was this one time in college; I was sitting at the Registry waiting to register myself for my A-Levels exams. It was October. I remember being bored and looking around my surroundings. I remember the water feature and the turtles swimming under the man made pseudo waterfall. I remember looking up at the various banners of institutions of learning that were affiliated with my own college, fluttering, surprisingly, despite the fact that we were indoors, subterranean no less. I remember looking at the fine, fine specimens of the opposite sex, eagerly walking at a brisk pace to get to a class to enrich themselves with an education sponsored by their parents and/or dictated by the norms of a society that deem themselves fit to judge us, their peers.

There they were, sashaying this way and that, with their bright pink files filled with notes, colour coordinated outfits of varying scales of lookability and a subtle designer handbags and the latest in technological bits and ends comprising of what we now know as Ipods but were then called, simply, Portable mp3 music players, the latest(then) handphones with polyphonic ringtones and 1.2 megapixel cameras accompanied with handsfree sets completing their ensemble.

I have this tendency to look people in the eye, even though I don't want the viewee to know that I'm looking at them. Which I realize now after reading previous sentence, is very oxymoronic. It's a trait that has, and still does, haunt me to this day as being very stalker-ish, but I digress. With said stalker eyes I viewed these eager beavers(pun semi unintended) with what I thought were very appreciative eyes but were perceived as being very creepy and aforementioned stalker like and they thus quickened their steps to get away from your scribes field of vision. This continued for some time as I awaited with barely contained impatience for my number to mystically illuminate on the ticket counter number thingy to resolve my bureaucratic necessities with the Registry. As I watched the latest progeny of Eve sashay of my vision, I noticed something odd approaching my general direction.

It was what I presumed was a short female but there was something rather monstrous about her face. The first thought that crossed my mine was "Hey, it's only the middle of October. Isn't Halloween not for another 2 weeks? Some people are being a little bit over enthusiastic for some Western customs aren't they?" As the mask wearer got closer I started to realize that it wasn't a mask. It was her face.

Have you ever seen the Elephant man Joseph Merrick? Yeah. It was like that. On a slightly smaller scale. And a female. I couldn't stop starring. Something in the back of my mind told me not to. That it was just so fucking rude. That mom and dad brought me up better than that. I ignored it out of sheer curiosity. I wasn't repulsed but just intrigued, trying to study as much as I could of her face, so morbidly fascinating was the experience. Her face was bloated and I couldn't even see her eyes. Her left cheek was so distended that it looked like she was perpetually puffing. Her entire face was blue and black all over from what I've researched on Neurofibromatosis type 1 as due to severe bruising from muscle and nerve distention. I just stared and stared, mouth agape, even as she walked past me. When she was directly in front of me our eyes met, or more accurately the two little beads I could only assume were here eyes. And in that moment, I saw the pain and sorrow and humiliation that she had to endure from people like me who starred at her like some sort of monstrous sideshow oddity. All my shallow problems then seemed nothing compared what she had to face everyday.

In that moment, I realized I was such an asshole.

I don't know why I'm telling you this. It could have been one of the many skeletons that could have stayed in my closet. I don't feel any better confessing it. If anything this little anecdote has achieved is help spread the word about Neurofibromatosis type 1. Or it establishes that fact I'm, besides being homophobic, a real asshole when it comes to judging people on first impressions. I would like to think that what I take away from this is that, like the girl, I'm just human, and I have and will continue to make mistakes. Whichever way you chose to take it

I'm sorry Neurofibromatosis girl..

esoteric/random bites

2009-09-09T11:49:00.003+08:00

I find it a little bit strange that your wardrobe is 85% sleeveless shirts, spaghetti straps and various other sleeveless apparel but when you see me you're always covering your sleeves. I also find it strange that you always seem to want to call a third party along when I ask you out when it's pretty obvious it's only your company that I prefer at said time and indeed, that was said intention of me asking you out in the first place. You could be shy I suppose, but I have ever been the perfect gentleman. Sadly, I guess the gut and the facial hair and the whole OhMyGodHeUsedToLikeMe and HeUsedToStareAtMeConstantly memories from the evergreen college years remain my legacy at a certain Higher Education Learning Programme Institute and continue to haunt me even in my post college years.

No, you may not sue me for being discriminatory against homosexuals. I merely stated my personal opinion that I disagree with their lifestyle. I did not in any way or form say that they shouldn't be homosexual, nor did I propagate any hate crimes against them. Sure, I may not understand them fully, and I draw upon personal experiences for having such personal opinions, but I do not hate them Hitler style. Neither would I frequent gay/lesbian clubs/events carrying hateful placards and chanting discriminatory slogans. I do not consider them less then human for I know that they are. I just don't agree with their lifestyle. Let that be the end of the matter

The cows go moo, and they can't get a permit because of their skins. They defile a sacred article of faith, spat out and photographed no less, and the only man who has the courage to say anything sits on the feather throne no longer. They say no, and they repress the press. They snatch the dead before they're even in the ground. They whip and cane those they feel deserve it, while the deserving get away with sin. You can join the club but you can never leave. Not even your spouse. Faith is like the rain from the heavens, man is like the earth. When they meet, only mud is the outcome.

You must know someone to get anywhere. Your merits, your education, your parent's and your own effort, they count for nothing now. Oh yeah, you can probably get some low-mid level job, but will you ever be the man on top? Not unless you know somebody. Hell, I knew somebody. You can call it contacts and networking. No one seems to think its all about the fact that its not what you know, its who you know.

"Anarchism, then, really stands for the liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion; the liberation of the human body from the dominion of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint of government. Anarchism stands for a social order based on the free grouping of individuals for the purpose of producing real social wealth; an order that will guarantee to every human being free access to the earth and full enjoyment of the necessities of life, according to individual desires, tastes, and inclinations"- Emma Goldman. You were wrong Emma. You forgot that we're humans first, individuals last.

If you worked at a job offering you 5000rm/month and then someone came along and offered you 10000rm/month, which would you choose?. If you worked at Progressive Ali's Fine Muslim Indian Cuisine Restaurant and someone came and offered you a job BAT for 3x what you're earning, which would you choose? Your school nurtured you and taught you to become the man you are, but would you then be obliged to work for them once you graduate? Think about that Fédération Internationale de Football Association before you decide to condescend and make an example out of certain English clubs. And to a certain French club in the city of Lens, that's football, its a business, not oh boo hoo mama, he stole my toy.

I'm guilty, green slippers. I suppose i should say sorry, but I dint think it will help. Yes, I will just relax.

I spend time with you and you call it smothering and clingy. I dint spend time with you and you say I'm not giving you enough attention. Hey, I'm not a mind reader. Pick a fucking stance and stick by it. You can't have your cake and fucking eat it too. This saying comes from the notion that one should share a cake because cake should be shared and not eaten alone. Therefore, it would be wrong to have the cake and eat the whole bloody thing and not share it, you greedy little fuck.

Yes it occurred to me that the post was made on 9/9/09. And that should have special significance why?Because it will never happen again? Big deal. A date's a date, just numbers to help the human mind make sense of time in motion. On the numerology stance, well, I can humbly state that I personally think its all bullshit and don't believe a single iota of it.The same with horoscopes. My life is not dictated by a couple of numbers or how the stars are aligned. It's by the choices I make, right or wrong, and how I live by them.

You're never happy unless you're unhappy. Which is why I think that we could have never worked out. Besides the whole difference of opinion on sexual orientation. You can't accept the fact that life has indeed given you a ladle of the gravy train and that life's must always be about the struggle, the shit. Look, it's not my fault you have an inferiority complex, or that life has been one pile after another of shit to you since your dad left, or the guy(s) you "loved" treated you like shit and broke your heart. You have to realize that Im not, nor have I ever been,that guy or like your dad(and I dont mean that in a Oedipus Complex way) and that you can't use that as an excuse and justification for hurting me and people like me. Yes, I may have faults, who doesn't, but the least you can do is have some common courtesy and overlook them, like how I did yours. And don't get it twisted. This has nothing to do with sexuality. This has to do with character and personality. Meh, what do I know? Im just some emo fuck.

Keep your hips squared. Hunch your back. Keep your chin in. Hands on your forehead. Keep your back foot up and bend the knees. Circle off. T.E.S. Balance. Conditioning. Crazy Monkey Defence Programme. Armbar. Those are the words that constantly permeate my mind currently

Homosexual Propoganda debunked/ Mom read the bottom of this article

2009-08-31T08:15:00.004+08:00

So here we are again after a long exile from blogsphere. Not here to make apologies, for I feel I have none to make to the 5 of you reading this. I do not think it is my duty or obligation to burden and pontificate my personal world views to you, or bore you with tedious details of what I did, who I went out with and the contents of my bowels once it has been expunged from my body through my anus. You already have CNN and the E!channel for all that good stuff, sans bowel content(it does not make for good conversation unless you have constipation and said conversation takes place in the confines of the clinic with a doctor and maybe nosy attending nurse).

I do however have to pontificate on a personal world view that most of you have already called me out on and metaphorically tarred and feathered me and severed long standing ties with. Yes, I'm talking about homosexuals. I have, and will, never believe the main argument that the homosexual propaganda machine tries to enforce and uphold for its own political agenda that homosexuals are born the way they are and that there is an inherent gay gene which causes said homosexuality. No one is born that way. There is no gay gene. Any "research paper" that you have read doesn't know the first thing about genetics and the slightest hope that homosexuals can see as a self justifying mechanism in regards to these "researches" are pounced upon by the liberal homosexual propaganda machine.

And just before you start you attacks and blog/flame wars and "oh ju-lian you're so blinded and biased and write such hurtful things" comments because you think I'm just blowing smoke up your ass and propagating homosexual hate crimes(which I'm not you fucking overly sensitive prick/bitch) here's my proof.

Is there a gay gene?

Many laymen now believe that homosexuality is part of who a person really is from the moment of conception.

The "genetic and unchangeable" theory has been actively promoted by gay activists and the popular media. Is homosexuality really an inborn and normal variant of human nature?

No. There is no evidence that shows that homosexuality is simply "genetic." And none of the research claims there is. Only the press and certain researchers do, when speaking in sound bites to the public.

How The Public Was Misled

In July of 1993, the prestigious research journal Science published a study by Dean Hamer which claims that there might be a gene for homosexuality. Research seemed to be on the verge of proving that homosexuality is innate, genetic and therefore unchangeablea normal variant of human nature.

Soon afterward, National Public Radio trumpeted those findings. Newsweek ran the cover story, "Gay Gene?" The Wall Street Journal announced, "Research Points Toward a Gay Gene...Normal Variation."

Of course, certain necessary qualifiers were added within those news stories. But only an expert knew what those qualifiers meant. The vast majority of readers were urged to believe that homosexuals had been proven to be "born that way."

In order to grasp what is really going on, one needs to understand some little known facts about behavioral genetics.

Gene Linkage Studies

Dean Hamer and his colleagues had performed a common type of behavioral genetics investigation called the "linkage study." Researchers identify a behavioral trait that runs in a family, and then:

a) look for a chromosomal variant in the genetic material of that family, and

b) determine whether that variant is more frequent in family members who share the particular trait.

To the layman, the "correlation" of a genetic structure with a behavioral trait means that trait "is genetic"-in other words, inherited.

In fact, it means absolutely nothing of the sort, and it should be emphasized that there is virtually no human trait without innumerable such correlations.

Scientists Know the Truth about "Gay Gene" Research

But before we consider the specifics, here is what serious scientists think about recent genetics-of-behavior research. From Science, 1994:

Time and time again, scientists have claimed that particular genes or chromosomal regions are associated with behavioral traits, only to withdraw their findings when they were not replicated. "Unfortunately," says Yale's [Dr. Joel] Gelernter, "it's hard to come up with many" findings linking specific genes to complex human behaviors that have been replicated. "...All were announced with great fanfare; all were greeted unskeptically in the popular press; all are now in disrepute."{1}

Homosexual Twin Studies

Two American activists recently published studies showing that if one of a pair of identical twins is homosexual, the other member of the pair will be, too, in just under 50% of the cases. On this basis, they claim that "homosexuality is genetic."

But two other genetic researchers--one heads one of the largest genetics departments in the country, the other is at Harvard--comment:

While the authors interpreted their findings as evidence for a genetic basis for homosexuality, we think that the data in fact provide strong evidence for the influence of the environment.{2}

The author of the lead article on genes and behavior in a special issue of Science speaks of the renewed scientific recognition of the importance of environment. He notes the growing understanding that:

... the interaction of genes and environment is much more complicated than the simple "violence genes" and intelligence genes" touted in the popular press.The same data that show the effects of genes, also point to the enormous influence of non genetic factors.{3}

More Modest Claims to the Scientific Community

Researchers' public statements to the press are often grand and far-reaching. But when answering the scientific community, they speak much more cautiously.

"Gay gene" researcher Dean Hamer was asked by Scientific American if homosexuality was rooted solely in biology. He replied:

"Absolutely not. From twin studies, we already know that half or more of the variability in sexual orientation is not inherited. Our studies try to pinpoint the genetic factors...not negate the psychosocial factors."{4}

But in qualifying their findings, researchers often use language that will surely evade general understanding making statements that will continue to be avoided by the popular press, such as:

...the question of the appropriate significance level to apply to a non Mendelian trait such as sexual orientation is problematic.{5}

Sounds too complex to bother translating? This is actually a very important statement. In layman's terms, this means:

It is not possible to know what the findings mean--if anything--since sexual orientation cannot possibly be inherited in the direct way eye color is.

Thus, to their fellow scientists, the researchers have been honestly acknowledging the limitations of their research. However, the media doesn't understand that message. Columnist Ann Landers, for example, tells her readers that "homosexuals are born, not made." The media offers partial truths because the scientific reality is simply too unexciting to make the evening news; too complex for mass consumption; and furthermore, not fully and accurately understood by reporters.

Accurate Reporting Will Never Come in "Sound Bites"

There are no "lite," soundbite versions of behavioral genetics that are not fundamentally in error in one way or another.

Nonetheless, if one grasps at least some of the basics, in simple form, it will be possible to see exactly why the current research into homosexuality means so little and will continue to mean little, even should the quality of the research methods improve so long as it remains driven by political, rather than scientific objectives.

Understanding the Theory

There are only two major principles that need to be carefully understood in order to see through the distortions of the recent research. They are as follows:

1. Heritable does not mean inherited.

2. Genetics research which is truly meaningful will identify, and then focus on, only traits that are directly inherited.

Almost every human characteristic is in significant measure heritable. But few human behavioral traits are directly inherited, in the manner of height, for example, or eye color. Inherited means "directly determined by genes," with little or no way of preventing or modifying the trait through a change in the environment.

How to "Prove" That Basketball-Players are Born that Way

Suppose you are motivated to demonstrate for political reasons--that there is a basketball gene that makes people grow up to be basketball players. You would use the same methods that have been used with homosexuality: (1) twin studies; (2) brain dissections; (3) gene "linkage" studies.

The basic idea in twin studies is to show that the more genetically similar two people are, the more likely it is that they will share the trait you are studying.

So you identify groups of twins in which at least one is a basketball player. You will probably find that if one identical twin is a basketball player, his twin brother is statistically more likely be one, too. You would need to create groups of different kinds of pairs to make further comparisons--one set of identical twin pairs, one set of nonidentical twin pairs, one set of sibling pairs, etc.

Using the "concordance rate" (the percentage of pairs in which both twins are basketball players, or both are not), you would calculate a "heritability" rate. The concordance rate would be quite high--just as in the concordance rate for homosexuality.

Then, you announce to the reporter from Sports Illustrated: "Our research demonstrates that basketball playing is strongly heritable." (And you would be right. It would be "heritable"--but not directly inherited. Few readers would be aware of the distinction, however.)

Soon after, the article appears. It says:

"...New research shows that basketball playing is probably inherited. Basketball players are apparently 'born that way!' A number of outside researchers examined the work and found it substantially accurate and well performed..."

But no one (other than the serious scientist) notices the media's inaccurate reporting.

What All Neuroscientists Know:
The Brain Changes with Use

Then you move on to conduct some brain research. As in the well-known LeVay brain study which measured parts of the hypothalamus, your colleagues perform a series of autopsies on the brains of some dead people who, they have reason to believe, were basketball players.

Next, they do the same with a group of dead non basketball players. Your colleagues report that, on average, "Certain parts of the brain long thought to be involved with basketball playing are much larger in the group of basketball players."

A few national newspapers pick up on the story and editorialize, "Clearly, basketball playing is not a choice. Not only does basketball playing run in families, but even these people's brains are different."

You, of course, as a scientist, are well aware that the brain changes with use...indeed quite dramatically. Those parts responsible for an activity get larger over time, and there are specific parts of the brain that are more utilized in basketball playing.

Now, as a scientist, you will not lie about this fact, if asked (since you will not be), but neither will you go out of your way to offer the truth. The truth, after all, would put an end to the worldwide media blitz accompanying the announcement of your findings.

Gene Linkage Studies:
"Associated With" Does Not Mean "Caused By"

Now, for the last phase, you find a small number of families of basketball players and compare them to some families of non players. You have a hunch that of the innumerable genes likely to be associated with basketball playing (those for height, athleticism, and quick reflexes, for example), some will be located on the x-chromosome.

You won't say these genes cause basketball playing because such a claim would be scientifically insupportable, but the public thinks "caused by" and "associated with" are synonymous.

After a few false starts, sure enough, you find what you are looking for: among the basketball-playing families, one particular cluster of genes is found more commonly.

With a Little Help from the Media

Now, it happens that you have some sympathizers at National People's Radio, and they were long ago quietly informed of your research. They want people to come around to certain beliefs, too. So, as soon as your work hits the press, they are on the air: "Researchers are hot on the trail of the Basketball Gene. In an article to be published tomorrow in Sports Science..."

Commentators pontificate about the enormous public-policy implications of this superb piece of science. Two weeks later, there it is again, on the cover of the major national newsweekly: "Basketball Gene?"

Now what is wrong with this scenario? It is simple: of course basketball playing is associated with certain genes; of course it is heritable. But it is those intermediate physiological traits-muscle strength, speed, agility, reflex speed, height, etc.-which are themselves directly inherited. Those are the traits that make it likely one will be able to, and will want to, play basketball.

In the case of homosexuality, the inherited traits that are more common among male homosexuals might include a greater than average tendency to anxiety, shyness, sensitivity, intelligence, and aesthetic abilities. But this is speculation. To date, researchers have not yet sought to identify these factors with scientific rigor.

What the majority of respected scientists now believe is that homosexuality is attributable to a combination of psychological, social, and biological factors.

From the American Psychological Association "[M]any scientists share the view that sexual orientation is shaped for most people at an early age through complex interactions of biological, psychological and social factors."{6}

From "Gay Brain" Researcher Simon LeVay "At this point, the most widely held opinion [on causation of homosexuality] is that multiple factors play a role."{7}

From Dennis McFadden, University of Texas neuroscientist: "Any human behavior is going to be the result of complex intermingling of genetics and environment. It would be astonishing if it were not true for homosexuality."{8}

From Sociologist Steven Goldberg "I know of no one in the field who argues that homosexuality can be explained without reference to environmental factors."{9}

As we have seen, there is no evidence that homosexuality is simply "genetic"--and none of the research itself claims there is.

Only the press and certain researchers do, when speaking in sound bites to the public.

Taken from the NARTH(National Association for the Research and Therapy of Homosexuals)

Now I KNOW you must be thinking, oh ju-lian, that taken from such an obviously biased NGO. You've taken it out of context and you're just being spiteful because Michelle hates you now. While you are entitled to whatever notions and opinions you may have, let it be known that I never ever hate for the sake of hating nor do I blindly follow what is being fed to me like the rest of you sheep.

Here's another study, from a NON NGO

The trumpets were left at home and the parades were canceled. The press releases and campaign signs were quietly forgotten. The news was big, but it did not contain what some had hoped for. On April 14, 2003, the International Human Genome Consortium announced the successful completion of the Human Genome Project—two years ahead of schedule. The press report read: “The human genome is complete and the Human Genome Project is over” (see “Human Genome Report...,” 2003, emp. added). Most of the major science journals reported on the progress in the field of genetics, but also speculated on how the information would now be used. The one piece of information that never materialized from the Human Genome Project was the identification of the so-called “gay gene.”

Homosexuality has been practiced for thousands of years. Simply put, homosexuality is defined as sexual relations between like genders (i.e., two males or two females). It was Sigmund Freud who first postulated that parental relationships with a child ultimately determine the youngster’s sexual orientation. But this “nurturing” aspect has effectively given way to the “nature” side of the equation. Can some behaviors (e.g., alcoholism, homosexuality, schizophrenia) be explained by genetics? Are these and other behaviors influenced by nature or by nurture? Are they inborn or learned? Some individuals believed that the answer would be found hiding amidst the chromosomes analyzed in the Human Genome Project.

The human X and Y chromosomes (the two “sex” chromosomes) have been completely sequenced. Thanks to work carried out by labs all across the globe, we know that the X chromosome contains 153 million base pairs, and harbors a total of 1168 genes (see NCBI, 2004). The National Center for Biotechnology Information reports that the Y chromosome—which is much smaller—contains “only” 50 million base pairs, and is estimated to contain a mere 251 genes. Educational institutions such as Baylor University, the Max Planck Institute, the Sanger Institute, Washington University in St. Louis, and others have spent countless hours and millions of research dollars analyzing these unique chromosomes. As the data began to pour in, they allowed scientists to construct gene maps—using actual sequences from the Human Genome Project. And yet, neither the map for the X nor the Y chromosome contains any “gay gene.”

you can read the rest of the legnthy discussion here http://www.trueorigin.org/gaygene01.asp

Now for the kicker. I did not say that you CAN'T be a homosexual. Its a CHOICE and hey, who am I to tell you any differently. I don't agree with your lifestlye choice and thats just my own PERSONAL OPINION and I will defend my right to it. But please do not come and pontificate to me that you're born the way you are. The articles above have proven that that is utter bullshit and written by experts in the field. And im pretty sure they dont have their own homophobic agenda. Dosent bode well for their PhD you see. If im wrong, please feel free to correct me. So yeah, take that liberal media and GLAAD and PLU and Katagender and associated homosexual propoganda machines.

Hope that tides you over for a few months

Congratulations on reaching the end of this article. You've just wasted about 10 minutes of your time which you could have used for more productive things like watching porn or feeding the hungry children of the world or saving the whales. But thank you all the same.

Mom, this is just a status update. Im fine, working, joining the gym, everyone here is fine, there arent any racial riots here, yet. Still smoking but cutting down in an effort to be fit for the gym and not look like a tired fat fool in the workout classes and yes, for my own personal health and well being. Plus please try and get me a LA Dodgers replica baseball (home) jersey with Ethier on the back if they win the World Series in October. No, I can't get it over here. L size should be fine. Hope you're fine too. Love you.
Ju

Keroncong Hujan/ My Yasmin Ahmad tribute

2009-08-15T19:13:00.004+08:00

Mega mendung di angkasa
Hembusan bayu dingin terasa
gerimis berderai di merata
bagai mutiara

Rahmat dibawa bersama
Limpahannya meresap dijiwa
adakala bahgia dirasa
meskipun duka nestapa

Tika hujan turun
sayup mendayu lagu keroncong
merdu irama dialun
bersenandung

Hujan membasahi bumi
melahirkan keluhuran budi
mengeratkan paduan suci
kasih sayang abadi

Translation;

Clouds overcast the sky
The gust of a cold breeze is felt
Drizzle drips everywhere
Like pearls

Blessings are brought together
It's gift overflows into the soul
Bliss is sometimes felt
In spite of the sadness of woes

When the rain falls
Faint rumbles(whispers) of a song
With Melodious rhymes bellowing
Croons

Rain wets the earth
Giving birth to noble deeds
Strengthening pure solidarity
An eternal love.

apologies if i've made any mistakes in the translations

Guess not

2009-08-14T06:05:00.001+08:00

Nope. Still alive.

Last post(?)

2009-08-12T15:27:00.002+08:00

so yeah.. i might be dying due to the H1N1. Watch this space for further developments. Or not, in which case im dead.

I guess some people finally got their wish huh?

Book of the law/ Ouroboros

2009-08-04T09:28:00.002+08:00

If you're still here after seeing all three videos, here's my opinion.

Do what thou wilt. I'm sure most of you live by that. But this Christian propaganda is not without its merits. At what point do we draw a line as to what is right and wrong? Hitler followed his heart and 6 million Jews and 2 million others died because one man wanted to do his own thing. From a personal view, for example, I find homosexual lifestyle distasteful and disagree with it, but I know many of you do not. I did my own thing by saying what I felt was right in my heart and I was condemned for it. So it is right then for you to do your own thing when other are also doing their own thing by telling you you cant do your own thing? If you say that you followed your heart, would it not also be correct to say that I followed mine as well? And by denying me my right to follow my own will, are you not being hypocritical? Is it fairer to say that you can do your own thing while what someone else does that offends you is not the right thing and that person shouldn't be doing it? On that, I believe that doing what thou wilt is utter bullshit. We live in a society that is extremely selfish and individualist. There is no altruism to allow for there to be anarchical communality. Nobody "does their own thing". That is why we have laws. Would it be more accurate to say that "I'm do as I will within the confines and parameters of the laws of the land"? Does that not go against the idea of doing as thou wilt? Listen to what Charles Manson said. Why then do you paint him a villain and a monster if you are all for "doing your own thing?"

Oh sure, you can tell me that you're not like Hitler, Charles Manson, Anton LeVay, Alister Crowley. They were all just psychos. Criminals. But they all did their own thing didn't they? I'm not arguing against free will. I'm arguing for the fact that most people who say that they want to and should be able to do their own thing are nothing but hypocrites. If I was a God fearing Christian, as it is stated in my MyKad, and if I was to say that lesbians are scum of the earth and sinners of the highest nature I'm sure that that would draw flak from almost every acquaintance that I know. Mind you, I'm saying IF. But then we come back to doing your own thing. Would not being a God fearing Christian and saying such derogatory and inflammatory statements be me doing my own thing? Why then should the above said hypothetical statements be considered wrong and derogatory and inflammatory? Its because we do in fact live in a society that hypocritically claims that it has free will but are just in denial of the fact that they want to be subjugated to laws as and when it suits their own individual advantage, i.e. laws that protect them from those who would follow their hearts by denying you what your hearts wants.Even then, the law is subject to men who do as they wilt and we all suffer because of it, as Iran and our own Malaysia can attest You see the vicious cycle developing here? Its a loop within a loop within a loop. At what point of the Ouroboros does the head meet the tail? The answer is that it does not, and we are all bound in this endless circle of right and wrong and the middle path that leads to nowhere. We are all hypocrites for believing that we are "good people"and that we can and shall do what we will.

Nuptial Congratulations/Death/A fat man's worldview

2009-08-01T05:56:00.004+08:00

First off, I did like to congratulate Ms(or should that be Mrs. now?) Chompunatt Krenger on tying the knot with Mr Krenger. Your brother was kind enough to send some of the pictures and like I told him, you looked beautiful. Here's to having many many many years of marital bliss and happiness.

Death has not been kind. Not to the celebrities anyway. I mean, I realize that death is an everyday part of life. Just last week there was a funeral behind my house. And a dead dog that was repeated run over till it resembled something akin to tomato puree near my dad's house. And the 5 mosquitoes I just killed and impaled their heads upon little improvised pikes to scare away their kin before they take another bite from He who's Blood is Like a Nutmeg and Honey Donut with Chocolate Sprinklings , or in mosquitonese. EEeEEEEeeeeeeeeE. And the 50 ants I killed with Commercial insect spray. You get what I mean. Death happens. But only to us "normies". Its like every week there's a celebrity death. Ms. Fawcett, Mr Jackson, Ms Ahmad, Mr Robson, Mr Mays. The list goes on. And it was all in the space of one month. Methinks death has become bored of us normies and craves to be hispter death with above mentioned celebrities. Or maybe he's forming a football team, with Mr Bobby Robson as coach. Anyway, what Im trying to say is, death is stalking, paparazzi style, and its disconcerting. These people entertained us and will no longer now. Instead the guilty, the corrupt and the immoral are still as springy as a spring chicken and no doubt at this very moment making the world a lot more shittier for the rest of us normies. Disconcerting. Oh, and I suppose condolences to the family and acquaintances of the deceased mentioned above. You touched our lives briefly but you touched us nonetheless. Metaphorically.

So, I admit i read Michelle's blog off and on. And surprisingly, Im not angry or "emo" as she put it anymore. In fact Im happy that she's found some happiness and is getting on with her life rather well. I don't know if its sincerity or indifference. Or maybe a bit of both. I can't say. All i can say is that Im not angry anymore and our chapter has come to a close. She has been relegated(or elevated) to memory of which i sometimes recall and then smile and say, that is the past and promptly get distracted by a scantily glad girl sashaying her way across the street while I hum The Door's "hello I love you" in my head and stare, at which point said girl catches my stare and promptly walks away faster upon realizing that she received a stare from a potential contestant on The Biggest Loser Asia.

Speaking of which, I entertained the thought of entering said competition, mainly for the money, partly for the weight loss which will guarantee me a 110% increase in pussy getting. Pussy as in the derogatory term for a woman's vagina and not the Michael(the cat) kind. But upon sizing up( pun unintended) the competition, I felt that I would dismissed out of hand as someone who requires just a little bit more exercise to ensure hot tamale-esque physique. It also got me thinking that I should befriend some of the said competition to be used as a foil so that I would seem thinner in the group of the BMI challenged. Having established what a bastard I am to think of such a thought, I promptly wondered if my friends see me that way since they all aren't BMI challenged while I am bordering on said levels. I then despaired till i saw a girl in short shorts(or micro minies..whooo) and fishnets with a tube top(and looking good I might add) and all was well again. Yes, I seem to live or be at areas where hot people peruse and wander through, causing us normies to stare and have a sharp intake of breath and spontaneously burst into humming obscure dittys about hot girls. Or the playlist at zouk, whichever takes one's fancy first.

Great, now i can't get that door's song out of my head. Then again I just came back from a mamak which catered to the after clubbing hours crowd and I was humming the song for a good half an hour.

Pussy......cat./ Paws Animal Welfare Society

2009-07-15T09:31:00.005+08:00

Say hi to Michelle. No, I'm not being spiteful. It was just the first name that came to mind. I found her in my backyard 2 nights ago. Abandoned, cold and mewing for the end of the world. Having bought powdered milk( kittens can't take cows milk because they're lactose intolerant i.e. they'll die. Ignore the picture on the bottom left, it was taken pre googling of how/what to feed kittens) I promptly had a sleepless night due to her endless mewing and constant need to be fed through a syringe. After said feeding she attempted to explore her surroundings at which point I played traffic police and directed her away from electrical plugs and stairs while she ambled on tiny feeble paws. After tiring out from said explorations I tucked her in her towel/blanket and stroked her head and looked into her eyes until she feel asleep again. Repeat process 3 hours later while attempting to sleep before she mewed again.

I finally gave her away to PAWS. Why? Because everyone here hates cats and I don't feel responsible enough to take care of her. I don't know if I did the right thing or not. The receptionist/admin/volunteer told me Michelle was quite young and probably not vaccinated and will most probably catch something from the other unvaccinated cats in residence and die... Before quickly adding that they don't kill their animals unless they're terminally ill. And taking my Rm50 surrender fee. I didn't even say bye to her. While filing out the release forms a creepy old man/volunteer took her away, box and towel and all and I couldn't find her as I left the compound. If there was anything this animal planet episode thought me, it's that I'm an incompetent kitten care giver, and I'm definitely not responsible enough to own a kitten. And I'm missing her already.

If the 3-5 of you are reading this and feel that you want to give and/or are capable of giving Michelle a good home, please visit PAWS in Subang(near the old airport road) ASAP. She's about a couple of weeks old, black/gray and brown fur. Beautiful gray eyes. May or may not answer to the name of Michelle. There's a nominal adoption fee to pay but I'm sure Michelle would appreciate it very much. Closed on Wednesdays.

P.S i just read up that Michelle could potentially be Michael. Cat genitalia don't form till they're about 3 weeks old. I didn't see the twigs and berries so I assumed it was a female. But its supposed to be slit like and Michelle had a roundish looking genitalia thing. So... yeah. Goodbye Michael.

Fuzzy angry logic/ The fucking point/ Juice

2009-07-12T06:22:00.010+08:00

So last night was fuzzy to say the least. So fuzzy I didn't realize I wrote last night's you-can-barely-call-it-a poem. Yes, I have the uncanny ability to craft barely passable poetry in the midst of a drunken haze. And the fact that I didn't fuck up on the spelling is also quite uncanny, seeing as my sober myself usually makes more spelling and grammar mistakes than someone suffering from dyslexia. It's a joke. If you cant take it ukfc oyu.

On that note, I'm sick and tired of being the calm one. It obviously doesn't get you anywhere in life and in some sick twisted and ironic way I can see why Michelle is happy the way she is. She just doesn't give a fuck about what everyone else thinks and she sleeps easier at night, alone or in the arms of her lover. And in some way, I think that should be applauded. Why the fuck should I be nice to you when its just so much fucking easier to fuck you over for my own benefit? Why should I give a fuck what you think when it's obvious that what I do think doesn't really matter to you in the first place anyway? We're brought up to think that we live in such an altruistic society. That we should fucking care for everyone and love thy neighbor and all that hippie propaganda bullshit. They lied to us. Society doesn't care about society. If they did there wouldn't be crime, there wouldn't be war, there wouldn't be cynicism and depression. But there it is. Outside your fucking temples, your churches, your mosques, your schools, your homes. Everyone has become a statistic, a target, an object to be ravished and destroyed for your own selfish pleasures and needs. No one's human. No one cares. You see a fucking road accident victim and you don't stop. You see a robbery in progress and you stare dumbly and helpless as your "fellow" man gets relieved of his possessions. Don't even fucking talk to me about sex. Society is just a big whore that fucks itself with a dildo. You just have to fucking go on the star's website and see that the most read stories are all about fucking rape and sex scandals and nude pictures being posted up by people who said victims thought they could fucking trust. They, as you all are, are fucking mistaken into thinking we're all fucking altruistic and "good" people. Money, might and carnal satisfactions have more say than love and peace. So why the fuck should we even fucking bother anymore? Why the fuck should I care about you?

Because I'm fucking better than you at being a human being.

You have to be Dante and travel through the Inferno to know that maybe, just maybe, there just might be something better to it than all of this. God knows I'm no fucking angel. I've fucked up big time in the past, and I know I will again sometime in the future. But the fact is, I wasn't and never will be, cruel like you. I've been there, and I don't like it. And I can't live like you. The above shows I've thought about it. Considered it. But I can't. I'm jaded but I'm not fucking blind to the fact that, despite everything above being true, there is some good left in this world. Its just that we've been mired in the shit for so long we can't see it so clearly anymore. I'm sick of looking at all the shit. Just for once, I did like to see something good. I pray that there is some good. Otherwise.. what is the fucking point..

Now, the emo shit out of the way, here's today's funny( or not) pic. It's all about the juice.

Angry Song

2009-07-11T08:08:00.003+08:00

Fragile, fragile, fragile.
Your views and your stands.
Evermore were you nothing but guile.
Nevermore are you and me friends.

Lies, lies, lies
Your every promise and intimation
Our friendship at a demise
The hellish road paved with your cruel intention

Unrepentant, unrepentant, unrepentant
In your ways and in your actions
Our time together and the caring irrelevant
My dear, you have no fucking justifications

Anon, Anon, Anon
You move on
I will not mourn
While I sing this angry song

Criterion/Non sequitur

2009-06-20T10:08:00.002+08:00

Right of the bat I'm telling you this isn't going to be another 3000 wonder. Maybe about a 1000 er(or less, depending on long the creative juices can flow until I get bored and be distracted by something else, like porn). Some people have been asking me why I don't talk about "serious" stuff here anymore ( I know, I was as shocked as you are to find out I actually have more than just 3 readers). The answer is simple. I do that for a living now, so why should I do it here for free? Regardless, whatever I say here isn't really going to matter in the big picture. I'm not rich, famous, an intellectual and, most importantly, I'm not good looking enough. It astounds and assaults the mind sometimes to see that popularity, as intangible as it may be, is won because of the number of pictures and videos of yourself that you put up, rather than the substance and context of your opinions, if you have any at all. This has also led to the commercialization of popularity in blogsphere , i.e. ads that you'll only get if you get a certain number of hits a day. Again, as mentioned above, this is determined by how many glamour shots of yourself you can put up, rather than having some inkling of social commentary and intellectual discourse and its sad to see blogger event organizers select its panel based on the above mentioned criterion. I'm generalizing here of course. There are lots of good blogs to read out there and I gladly read and support such blogs because its actually intellectually stimulating if nothing else. But in regards to the rest of the lot, whose content consists of 75% glamour/party/camwhoring shots, 15% memes, 8% food/shopping mall shots and 2% one paragraph OMGIBOUGHTSHOES! entries of no substance and purpose other than to notify others of said financial ability(yours or others) to buy said shoes and/or other apparels (and being annoying about it), I shall not be a statistic on your statcounter nor shall I be following you on twitter anytime soon.

Continuing ju-rants non sequitur traditions, here are my thoughts on Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. Plot wise, it's your typical Hollywood coming of age romantic comedy tales. boy meets girl, girl meets boy, initial difficulties in reconciling glaring similarities/opposites, turning point where said reconciling occurs, a climax of confrontation which inevitably ends well for all except for antagonist(s). If you've seen coming of age movie i.e. American Pie, My Girl, Sixteen Candles, it will have a familiar feel and pace. What is interesting, and indeed, the film's saving grace, was the soundtrack. Obviously, with a title including the words infinite playlist, would you have expected anything else? It's a smorgasbord of "indie", ranging from The Dead 60's, Shout out Loud and Vampire Weekend to Band of Horses and We are Scientists. I can imagine the thoughts "Sell outs!" running through your head, but honestly, one needs to chill the fuck out and stop with the purist act. Indie musicians need money. They can't subsist on your adoration alone, regardless of the number of "bootlegs" and t-shirts that you buy. 'Nuff said. Cast wise, Michael Cera and Kat Dennings pull off admirable thespian efforts in emoting and conveying the awkwardness and nonchalance which are essential for films of this make. They successfully managed to create a believable and realistic on screen chemistry which ultimately managed to carry the film, though it must be said that Michael Cera is in danger of being typed cast as the awkward unassuming pseudo nerd which marked his breakouts in Superbad and Juno. Further, the viewing of the preview for Year One which Mr Cera is set to star beside Jack "I'm annoying" Black does nothing to dispel this typecast and only proceeds to further exacerbated it. The supporting cast did a good job of doing what they were supposed to do well, which was to basically support the eponymous protagonists. The comic relief that is Ari Graynor's character was especially well played, even though at times predictable. Mention must also be made for the non stereotypical way in which gays are portrayed(except for the church scene, which reeked of lip service). Overall, though a tried and tested formula was used, the application of indie music and reference to it which were used liberally throughout the whole movie, the use of night life in New York City as an urban setting and an all around good effort from the cast and crew make it a well received feel good movie and delivers just that. I feel good.

Well, that was my attempt at doing a movie review. I'm no Roger Ebert obviously but I felt I stuck well within the parameters of doing a review from a technical standpoint and didn't give too much of the plot away. In essence, it really is one of the coolest jobs out there(next to island get away caretaker) and a great party ice breaker. "What do you do for a living?". "I watch movies and tell people if it sucks or not". The only job stress one would be facing would be reaching deadlines and having to endure crap like Twilight( Winning the most awards in the MTV movie awards doesn't really account for much taste and only represents the tween to 21 age demographic. Plus they keep playing the fucking Jonas Brothers over and over. I mean come fucking on! The MTV generation is dead. Long live Post Consumerism)

Batman, or rather, Bruce Wayne, is also dead. Long live Batman. Dick move by DC as usual, pun unintended(for those out of the loop, Dick Grayson, Nightwing/first Robin, is currently the new batman). But like Green Lantern(Hal Jordan) and the Flash(Barry Allen) I'm sure they will bring him back again after the predictable fan backlash after 15-20 years. It makes the novelty of comic book death exactly that, an inconsequential novelty which has been proven time and time again to bring no value to the comic and does nothing but incur fan outrage and reduced sales. Then again, I suppose DC and Marvel and the rest do reserve the right to publish material which may not always appease everybody.

Right. Thats all for now. As you can see, very intellectually stimulating stuff this discourse on movies and comics.

Pictures? Ok, why not?

Apologies for the text differential. Blogger is, as usual, fucking up.

L' Historie des Julian et Michelle

2009-06-03T02:02:00.008+08:00

Are you not entertained? By which I'm referring to the "blog war" of comments in the entry below. It missed the all time record of 15 by just 3 comments. As you, my dear astute and observant reader can read for yourself, me and Michelle are officially, as the Germans would say, Kaput.

So I know in post entitled 100 that I wouldn't be falling back on dwelling on the past. I have, obviously, not adhered to my own resolutions. In fact, it was said post and my impassioned(read;I did not think it through when I wrote it) writing that lead to the dissolution of our friendship. I would be lying if I said I did not feel a tug at my heart when it happened, but that's the bed of thorns I chose to lie on. Words have been said which I can never take back and I just have to accept fate as it is. Having said that, I will try, in an effort to get over said former 3 time apple of my eye, to retell our entire 8 year history. Bear and humor me in doing so. Its just my way of getting over it.

We met in Form 4, which would put a starting date to this roller coaster relationship in the year 2001, on that miraculous thing called IRC. I was on a Final Fantasy kick then and (disturbingly) attracted to the fictional character Rinoa. No prizes for guessing who had said nickname. So after the initial chatting, we graduated to another platform of internet chatting, that is to say, ICQ. Yes, that wonderful programme that goes "uh oh" when ever you receive an incoming message not too dissimilar from MSN's ring/tone/beep hybrid of today,and to the eventual evolution to the Phone. Yes, that's how it works in the cyber world. Moving from visual(reading) to audio(voice) was considered a step up back in the day. Keep in mind that the Ipod had not yet been invented and what would pass off as a USB thumbdrive with headphones with 256 mb space that could play 16 songs today was considered the height of technology then. The seeds of our chemistry had been sown there. To say that I fell in love(hard) would be an understatement and disservice to the emotions I felt then. I mean, spending 8 hours on the phone and not even realizing it(till the parents got the bill that is), 60rm on a dozen roses for valentines for someone I haven't even seen before...I couldn't be happier. What we said and did over the phone of course is something between myself and her and I would like to keep it that way. This went for about a couple of months or so, with me being blissfully in love. I was to find out later that I was also blissfully ignorant of the fact that she had been seeing someone else in the real world and when the news was received, it was not received well. I remember lots of sobbing, throwing of inanimate objects against other inanimate objects and a severe case of the asthma. I think at this juncture the seeds of my fragile emotional state were also planted, though I have a feeling this insidious rot started the day my parents divorced, but that's a story for another, more melancholic time.

So post sobbing and asthma attacks, I even spoke to her said real life lover. I said, the best man won(Yes, you read right. MAN) and he praised me for being humble and gracious in defeat(like that was going to help me in what way exactly?) in the pursuit of Michelle. And so I moved on. Or so I thought. This period is what I would like to term the Voon "the tyrant" Ping times. Again, the modus operandi here was (surprise surprise) the Irc and ICQ and phone method. In this regard, I must, for once, offer sincerest apologies to VP as, with the advantage of hindsight, she turned out to be nothing but a rebound. Now, why the tyrant title you ask? This is a snippet of how our usual conversations went.. ".. Where are you?!?!?! I'm with my dad. I told you I spend every Friday having dinner with him. Come home now!!! But I just started having dinner. If you don't come home now Im breaking up with you!!" As you can imagine, conditions were intolerable to say the least and the relationship lasting only 3 months. I was the one having dinner with my dad on Friday's by the way, just to clear up any doubt and confusion.

So post SPM and onto the college years, the best years of my so called life so far. I mean, talk about transition. No more uniforms, smoking(which I picked up during SPM anyway so no big deal), drinking, moustache and sideburns growing, independence of sorts from the strictures of school life... and them college girls. One of which happens to be Ms Cristine "I avoided you like a plague because my dick of a boyfriend hates you" Seow. Again, another tale for another time. Pre Ms Seow getting together with said dick of a boyfriend, I was making the moves on her. And i had supposed things were going well, you know, what with the dancing classes(YES, you read it right), the lunches and other assorted social activities, when Michelle shows up in my life again.

She played the Damsel in Distress. I played Sir Gallahad, the chinese version. Said distress required face to face meeting and in those 10 minutes, i guess you could say the old feelings came back.For both of us. We hooked up again. (or is this counted the first time since there was no secret lover i was not informed about, I hope, and this was in fact the first time I had seen her in the flesh). All thoughts of Ms Seow vanished in a split second and I only had Michelle on the brain. We went out on dates and did all the expected couple things, except kiss. No, we're both not Muslim or have some saliva transmitted disease. We just didn't do it for reasons I cant, till today, fathom. It was bliss again for me, for the better part of 5 months. Then, again for reasons I can't fathom or ever got an explanation for, things soured. We both hit a rut and it was mutually agreed that we both break up. Painful, yeah, but this was the only time we broke of relations in a cordial and amicable manner and was the least painful.

So there I was again, single , alone. Ms Seow, as you probably guessed, ended up with dick bf and as explained above, avoided me like the plague. I guess this was when i started doing 40 sticks a day and boozing every weekend. sometimes even drinking alone. The emotional fortitude was not at its all time high. Then 2003 came and it turned out to be the very best times of my life. Michelle turned up again, playing the damsel in distress(again). I was to discover that the cause of her distress was an ex lesbian partner and it involved financial matters (seeds being sown again here people) Being me, I again relented to helping her out and the scenes of the previous year played out again. I still loved her very much and she felt safe that she had me to fall back on. That someone genuinely cared for her. We got back together again(yes, again. that's 3 times). And we did it with a vengeance. 2003 turned out to be the year i got my first kiss and the year my virginity was lost. I was happy, and I believed we were happy. Until the I-completely-lost-my -mind- because- of- her- infidelity incident.

Again, thorough sheer blissful ignorance on my part and deceit on hers, Michelle was seeing a lesbian behind my back. And when she finally broke the news, I was distraught to say the least. I remember the loss of appetite, uncontrollable sobbing, and drinking to the point i don't even remember what happened post drinking. And that was the day before I lost my mind. Having been a perceived "happy" couple, she left a few of her mementos at my place and wanted to take them back personally. Fine, whatever, just take your shit and get the hell out of my life were the thoughts that were running through my mind. She arrived the next night, with the fucking girlfriend stealer in tow. I not so much as handed her her bag of belongings but threw them in her face. All the while, that fucking bitch(the stealer) was smiling at me, so fucking proud that she stole Michelle from a man. I lost it. I did a blood curling scream, broke the shoe rack, threw the keys into the driveway and smashed anything remotely smashable. I punched the wall till my skin broke, and then threw about 3 to 4 glasses which promptly broke. I then proceeded to take a baseball bat and smashed a lot of chairs. After that, I don't remember what happened. All I remember was sitting among a lot of debris with a baseball bat gripped loosely in my hands and blood dripping onto the floor. I'm pretty sure it was from my hand and not someone I murdered in my frenzied state.Hopefully..

Then i sobbed like a little bitch. I called my dad of all people and told him what had happened. I don't have a close relationship with my father, him having left the family physically and somewhat emotionally since i was 11. Calling him was the last thing I would have expected to do. But at that point and time, I was so thoroughly mind fucked that all I could do was call a family member, with their unreserved and unconditional love, and I chose my dad. And that's when he knew i was smoking. Simply because I told him I was, in that fucked up state of mind. He tried his level best to be a comforting father, and yeah, I did feel slightly better. But the week and a half after that passed by like a daze. Literally. I didn't know what was going on, hardly ate, and slept a lot. And I think this was where i started hating lesbians. I brooded on it for the better part of 2 years. And I let it fester willingly. I mean, could you blame me then and now? The physical and emotional scars are still there today. Every time i see that crack in the wall or the scar on my knuckles i could only think about that lesbian bitch. If she wasn't a woman i would have, quite honestly, killed her. It left me scarred, traumatised and its still a sensitive wound today, even if I do a good job of hiding it at times(speaking metaphorically here people. If the physical wound still hurt today I would be very worried from a medical and health point of view)

After that was the whole Gi Gyn incident which, suffice to say, in my fragile emotional state post girlfriend stealing lesbians bitch, didn't end well. In regards to Michelle, I would get the occasional call, to see if I'm alive or not, and how I'm doing. Time healed the wounds a little bit, and we started being civil again. It took a while to forgive her(and its still taking a while). But I think, now with this introspection, I I was blinded to the fact that I didn't apportion the blame enough to Michelle and laid it mostly against that other bitch. What can i say? I had a soft sport for my first love. And the chemistry remained. The feelings were always there I'll admit. But we both( or rather I) knew it was never ever going to be the same again. So we decided that we could remain friends. And for a time it was good.

She was by this time, a full blown lesbian. The thought of it rankled me at the time, and obviously still does to this day. But I hid it and tried to look past it, for the sake of our friendship which I held close to my heart. I had rather have her as a friend, then not at all. Being a friend of course, beholds one to a position of less importance than say, family or significant other. With this in mind we only contacted infrequently, her time being mostly devoted to whichever lesbian partner she was with at the time. I felt a pinch of jealousy, obviously, but was in no position to voice my opinions. We drifted apart physically and somewhat emotionally, but again the feelings were there and so was the chemistry if and when we talked or met up. In this time I saw the world a little bit. Literally. I was off in the UK and part of Europe( I don't care what you say, Italy and Amsterdam(airport terminal) counts as me being in more than one European country). I experienced new things and Michelle was temporarily not the centre of my world for once, though always an afterthought in the back of my mind. Having returned to Malaysia, I set about a seemingly pre set path of life doing things I didn't want to but did it anyway because I considered it right. Goes to show that my power's of deduction and reasoning are not up to par with Mr. Sherlock's.

Last year, during my failed attempt at the clp, I was once again in contact with Michelle. And things were at their usual . Friendly and platonic. With a smidgen of us revelling in the chemistry we shared and the undertones of desire for new experiences in old comforts on my part. And i felt the rekindling of past emotions and foolishly wanted us to work again. I subsequently left to the States to see my mother and I tried to keep in touch regularly. Again, she found another lesbian partner(that's like what? 7 already? I don't know, I didn't meticulously keep count, nor would I have wanted to) and i was relegated to friend only and I don't have time for you status. That and her work. Which didn't seem to deter her in finding said partner. Hey, another blow to my already fragile heart. Its like as if i set myself up to get fucked over by her at will. We exchanged words and temporarily lost our friendship then and there, with me in the States but diplomacy and a willingness to apologize for my brash(?) behaviour managed to redeem our relationship again. I didn't realize then that it was a foreshadowing of things to come.

Back from the States, we still kept in contact, albeit again infrequently. And I tried to keep it platonic. Key word here being "tried". Things between her and he partner inevitably soured, as the familiar pattern of her relationships always seem to dictate. And on Chinese new year this year, we met, as friends, and also as two lonely people with a shared past. We hung out as we usually did, and the more time we spent, the more our feelings got rekindled. The first and second social activity with her this year ended with a kiss. Why we both did it, I will never know, but it invariably led to a strengthening of feelings for one another. We went out, as something in between a friend and, something else. In fact, we went out more now than we ever did when we were supposedly in love. I don't think I've ever seen that many movies in such a short space of time. Well, comparatively to my usual cinema going habits anyway, which equaled once every 3 to 4 months. I made the first move foolishly after watching slumdog. I had delusions of grandeur that i was Jamal and she was Latika. It escaped my mind that she was in fact having a its-complicated-fling with someone else and for once I let my opinions and my heart wear itself on my sleeves. That is to say, I didn't like it and I let her know it. Like I said, delusions and denials.

Make no mistake. I foolishly thought we could make it work again. 4th time's the charm. Despite the fact that all my family and friends would disapprove in a plethora of frowns and tut tuts and numerous round table discussions(arguments) on my decision. I thought that love only mattered between two people and what was important was that i was, for once, happy, but it seemed to all sides, Michelle included, that my happiness doesn't mean jack shit. This was the backdrop against which my pursuit was set, and like all my other pursuits, I failed. Michelle perceived me to be clingy, spouting such casually barbed words as, "I don't have feelings for you (even if I kissed you)" and thus began the ignoring. Because, you know, the way the world works is that you run away from your problems without addressing it(problem =me). And, for the umpteenth time, I was hurt again, more by the suddenness of such ignoring rather than the substance behind it, which was in itself as flimsy as a guy on crutches. I knew that it wouldn't work for the 4th time, coming to the slow revelations that things would never be the same between us, that she was hated by my family(not without reason) and that she was overall still confused and, when in confusion, retreated to her comfort zone that is lesbianism.

It hurt that she would have used the copped out reason of me being too smart for her, or that I was being too clingy, when we only hung out on the weekends since we're both working. This, after all the time we spent together, was what broke the camels back and culminated in my "butches think they have dicks" commentary. It was used in the context of moving on, if only people would have read it properly, but I guess reading the metaphorical and contextual meaning of sentences is a lost art these days. And so 8 years of friendship got washed down the drain over, of all things, fucking semantics.

So that's it, our 8 year history compiled into 3000 words. It was more like 5000. But i decided to leave a few things out that will only remain between me and Michelle, as we promised each other a lifetime ago. So what was this entire exercise in futility for? Honestly, from the first words, I have no fucking idea. Perhaps as a chapter closing? Perhaps as therapy for a guy who;s clearly hurting but too proud to ask for help? One last good look at the rubble and ruins of the relationship I've spent blood sweat and dears building before leaving to build a new one and reinforce others? I don't know. I really don't. I don't know if we will ever speak again or if we see each other on the street randomly we will stop and say hi. I can't predict the future. Whatever may come, it's been a whole load of fun and a whole lot of grief as well. The time has come to say goodbye, whether for now, for good, forever, we can't say, but it's goodbye nonetheless. And thank you for the memories. All of them.

You're still here reader? Jesus. I didn't think anyone would want to get through all that. Thanks for reading. No comments are welcomed. Nor do I expect any.

Days of Days

2009-06-01T15:42:00.008+08:00

So yesterday was supposedly World No Tobacco Day. I didn't realize that there was actually such a day but even if it was to my knowledge I would not have participated. I do not believe that my right to smoke should be infringed by self righteous save the world and whales hippie organizations or persons. Yes I know its killing me. Yes I know secondhand smoke is bad. Regardless of these facts I still enjoy smoking and I do not see the point in forcing me to stop. If I want to stop it will be of my own volition and I don't need to be guilt tripped into quitting. Jesus, its not like I go to every non-smoker and peddle and force my cancer sticks on them, nor do I intentionally stop every baby occupied perambulator(pram in layman's terms) and blow smoke into Douchebag junior's face. So take that hippie. *Takes a long drag from currently lit cigarette hanging nonchalantly on my lips.

Today also happens to be World Milk Day(I'm not kidding). Like Valentines day, I fail to see the point in there being an especial day where something everyday is celebrated on a specific day. I drink milk everyday, so why should today be so special? Methinks the likes of Dutch Lady and HL have gone down the dark and shadowy path of marketing akin to that of the Hallmark and Roses Int. Inc. in creating Valentines day. If you wanted it to be such a special day how about sponsoring a ship load of milk and milk products over to say, I don't know, Africa? Where infant morality rates are the highest in the world due to malnourishment, let alone milk? So yeah. Fuck you too corporate douchebags. Then again, if there is a more nobler purpose to all this, and you are, in fact, sending milk to countries that actually need it, instead of "celebrating" its nutritional properties.. then yeah, happy World Milk Day.

Speaking of freedom, I'm a firm believer of free speech. In that regard, Ms. Thong, you are allowed to say whatever it is you want to say on your blog about me. Similarly, I am allowed to have my own personal and humble opinions about you and the lesbian community. It is not, nor have I ever claimed it to be, the gospel truth and people can judge for themselves what or what not to believe based on their own powers of reasoning and rationale.Having said that, you're so full of yourself into thinking that it was alright to mistreat me and are now trying to justify it by labeling me as an emo fuck. Yes, I am in fact an emo fuck. And the fact that you couldn't deal with it doesn't justify the way you treated me. Two wrongs don't make a fucking right. Furthermore, when I say, "women who think they have dicks" it's pretty much obvious to everyone else I meant it metaphorically and/or symbolically. Obviously butches are comfortable trying to be "males" without the added appendages otherwise they might as well have gone for a fucking sex change. But you know, you're obviously free to interpret it in any way your little mind desires. Isn't freedom of speech wonderful boys and girls? There should be an International/World Freedom of speech day. Oh right. There already is one. Go Google it.

Oh, before I forget, Tweety died. Tweety is the name of the bird that yours truly helped back into the nest. Let's just say... Sylvester ate him.

So no cleavage references today. But then again it is World Milk day... so.... would it be politically incorrect to show a picture of cleavage and milk in its awesome togetherness?

Guess not.

Chick

2009-05-01T11:10:00.010+08:00

So i helped out a chick last night. Unfortunately the chick looked like this

Instead of this

Bwuh...............cleavage.......... so anyway a baby chick fell out of its nest and yours truly helped put it back into its nest. Since I didn't think to have my camera with me during said time i have commissioned an artists rendition of what actually happened.

Yeah. Great artist. So after said putting-chick-back-in-nest incident its mother bird promptly kicked it out of the nest again this morning. Using the trusty little technological device/God we all call the internet, I googled "Baby bird fell out of its nest, what do I do" and the result with most hits featured a a guide to assisting wildlife babies . http://www.tc.umn.edu/~devo0028/guideto.htm suffice to say i wasn't supposed to put the baby back in the nest. Its where we get the saying, "leaving the nest" in regards to emo kids finally switching from slipknot to 311 and Incubus pre new ablum. Or leaving the house and going off to college and being "independent". Or being mature. Whichever suits your fancy.

They say a picture is a worth a thousand words. I have enough words here to get you an A+ on your dissertation paper sans giving blowjobs to the lecturer.

In conclusion, Maria Ozawa is hot and furious masturbation inducing. With the sound turned way down.

100

2009-04-24T20:44:00.003+08:00

You know, this is about the fourth time I'm attempting to write something meaningful to commemorate the 100th blog post on this here blog. The first 3 times all ended up with me raging and ranting against Ju's Bitches. You know, the same old formula of fuck you, you mistreated me, you disappoint me, hope you get crabs and gonorrhea.. that sort of thing. And honestly, that's getting a bit tiresome. Even for me. I'm just really tired of letting these women still affect me even though its already been 4 years, more than enough time to finally bury them in their respective bad memory graves and piss all over it. In more kinder terms, to forget them and move on. And so I shall. I have to develop some mental fortitude and grapefruits of steel. Of course it won't be easy. Whenever I think about gi gyn and michelle, i still get angry and sad and always utter their names followed by the words "fucking" and "bitch", followed by a good 15 minutes of smoking and calming myself down and chanting the mantra of "move on" repeatedly till my man child mind gets distracted by cleavage and snickers. Mmmmm.. snickers and cleavage...

Anyway coming back to my main point. It's painfully obvious that both women aren't as affected by their past interactions with me and have moved on to bigger dicks, or women thinking they have a dick in Michelle's case. So its a bit aggravating and lop sided that I'm still carrying all this emotional baggage and they're most decidedly not. So, goodbye gi gyn and michelle. I still don't understand why you treated me the way you did, but I think at this point and time that's rather irrelevant. Have a nice life. Its more than you deserve but hey, live and let live.

The other girls? Ah well, it wasn't meant to be. Specifically because I don't appreciate being dominated and treated like a handbag(that's you Voon Ping) and being lead around because you think I'm SCARY. Boo. So long .

Of course I'll be the first to admit I did a few things wrong as well. I'm sorry if I came on too strong. I'm sorry I cared too much. I'm sorry I kept staring at you but it was only because I thought, at that time, without knowing your real personality, that you were hot. I'm sorry I was too intelligent for you. I'm sorry for a lot of things I know I shouldn't be sorry for, but hey, fresh slate and all that jazz you know.

Oh shit... I did it again didn't i?

Anyway, sans the above mentioned events and people, life's been great in the last 4 years. Degree holder, job not related to said degree, good family, good friends, bad smoking habit. I daresay, the good memories far outweighed the bad ones if I step back and look at the bigger picture. I let myself get too traumatised by these women till it almost became all consuming, and I apologize for acting the way I did with my real family and real friends. I promise to try to be "happier" and less cynical about shit in life.

Hopefully this marks the first of many steps to me being a less emo man child and being more emotionally balanced and matured.

And to the rest of you lot.. whether you got here by clicking on the wrong link, curiosity or just plain boredom, thanks for reading. Here's to another 100 posts .

Special mention to penis elongating commenter, I'm fine with the size of my dick. Really. I don't feel inadequate at all. Will have the future women I sleep with fill out a survey if you want.

and to anonymous who finds my language "offensive and rude and will never come here again" well, you gave yourself better advice than I could (backspaces FUCK YOU YOU SENSITIVE CUNT!)

May future posts begin with "So me and the gf were fucking each other's brains out the other day ...."

Tunggu Sekejap

2009-04-22T01:30:00.002+08:00

Tunggu Sekejap wahai kasih
Kerana hujan masih renyai
Tunggu Sekejap
Dalam pelukan asmara ku

Jangan Bimbang
Walaupun siang akan menjelma
Malam ini
Belum puas ku bercumbu dengan dinda

Tunggu Sekejap wahai kasih
Tunggulah sampai hujan teduh
Mari ku dendang
Jangan mengenang orang jauh
Jangan pula
Jangan tinggalkan daku seorang

Tunggu Sekejap kasih
Tunggu

P. Ramlee

nota : Tiada kekasih yang tunggu untuk saya atau bertunggu dengan saya. Saya hanya ingin berkongsi lirik-lirik lagu P Ramlee ini yang sangat bermakna bersama anda.

Anna Molly again

2009-04-20T17:43:00.005+08:00

You're just like every other girl that I know. You come and go as you please. Its only when I don't think about you do you appear to me. Like as if you want something from me. I remember this time it was all very old Americana like. The jukeboxes, the soda fountains, neon lighting and plaid skirts. It was very "swell" and "dandy" as people of the era are prone to say. The fact that I was back in time crept ever so often into my consciousness. Any thoughts of irrationality and realization that one was in a dream of sorts was soon forgotten, intentionally or otherwise, when you walked in. Cue slow motion and sudden mysterious breeze that blows your hair in just the right way. You were gorgeous. You always have been. I've met you before. In a different time, in a different place, when you and me were different characters, different actors on the dream scape. As per your usual modus operandi, ours eyes meet for an eternity in a second, before the world comes flooding back with its swing music and period chatter, the cook in the kitchen yelling out orders. He looked like Al from Happy Days. I was expecting the Fonz to show up, leather jacket, rebel attitude and all, to engage in his constructive vandalism of the jukebox but alas he did not appear.

The soda in front of me was delicious to say the least. A chemical cocktail topped with more chemicals to create a chemical response on the palate. I think it was vanilla. The song in the background was Buddy Holly, though I forget which hit. Its the little details that I can remember, but its always you that I fail to capture. Something in the eyes, the hair, the way that you move, it's the little things that I notice and yet words fail to do you justice. Its apparent that armed even with a dictionary I cant begin to describe you. I stare as I usually do, with you perceiving me out of the corner of your eye but never engaging me. I approach you as I always did, that knot in my stomach turning, the beads of sweat starting to form, the heart pounding for the end of the world just to engage you in conversation. I start with the greeting, the anything but casual "hi" or "hello". You turn and you smile that damned smile of yours. I ask for your name as I usually do, and, like always, before your lips part to utter your sought after name, I am awaken.

Cursing, fidgeting, trying to grasp at the dust of a dream slipping away, I inevitably lost you again. Or so I thought

Drifting off again, I find myself back in more contemporary times. The sodas have been replaced with alcohol, of the consumption kind. The music had changed from timeless classics to present day flash in the pans. It wasn't in Al's soda shop anymore, it was a random house party with familiar faces. And you again. You were wearing what appealed to me, a simple sleeveless black top and fitted jeans. My dear, even if you were in rags I did still consider you the most beautiful woman in the world. You were holding a solo cup, casually talking with someone, I don't remember who. I felt a pinch of unfounded panic. You smiled your smile at him. I always thought it was exclusively for me. A familiar face passes me a drink, a jovial and fun face. I smile and thank him, feeling a little embarrassed for not knowing his name but thankful for some respite to distract me from you. I head out to the balcony, averse as I am to a noisy party full of familiar faces but unknown names, and to fight the feeling of insecurity when I see you and not know your name either. The sight of the city before me, the amalgamation of home and away and as yet unvisited places is breathtaking, and I commemorate the occasion with lighting up a cigarette. Even here, in Dream Scape, I can't forget the addiction. I contemplate as I usually do when I smoke, about you. I have seen you, I know you, but we're just two perfect strangers. The uneasiness that this is just merely a dream creeps back into my mind. Can I never find Nirvana, even if it isn't real? Can't I just have a little bit of reprieve from loneliness, even if I know it's not real? I'm in such a morose state of mind that I don't even realize that you're next to me, staring out into the city, contemplating, even as I am.

You catch me staring at you. You always do. You smile your smile again, just for me. You part your lips to speak again, and I wait with some trepidation for the dream to end again. But it does not. And I hear your voice for the first time. Your first words to me were "Do you have a light?". It is husky, casual yet full of confidence. I stumble around for the lighter, still dumbfounded to have heard you, to be interacting with you finally, after the endless chase through the Dream Scape. It's a black lighter. I ignite the flame, and you hold my hand to steady it while you light up your own cigarette. You take a steady drag and exhale. I watch with rapt fascination. You ask me "Why are you staring?". " It's because you just so.. beautiful" , I reply unsteadily. She smiles her smile again and thanks me. "But that's not the only reason is it, Ju?". She knows my name..

"No. I've seen you before. I see you every time I close my eyes. You're always there, wherever my dreams take me. But I don't know who you are. I've never even heard you speak, until now. I've chased you forever in Dream Scape."

She takes a drag again. "I know Ju" she replies in between exhalation. "I'm what you've always wanted in a girl. But you don't even know what I'm really like"

"If you're what I've always wanted, I don't see how that will be a problem."I realize that as I'm saying these words I'm inching closer to her. She wears a fragrance that seems familiar but again the name escapes me. Its intoxicating but in a good way.

She puts one hand on my shoulder and the other strokes my cheek. I respond by putting my hands around her hips and pull her closer to me. I stare into her eyes, and it as if the entire universe was blossoming behind those eyes. Her windows of her soul showed the happiness that could be had. The bliss coming from a woman who would never have trifled with my feelings. A woman who knew the true meaning of love.

"That's the problem with you, Ju. You love too easily." she says. I can feel her breath on my face. Her heart beating against mine.

"You're not making it difficult." I tell her. I can still hardly believe that I'm actually speaking to her, holding her, feeling her touch. "I can see through you. You're not flawed. You're not like the others. I feel like like I've known you my whole life. When I see you in my dreams, and that isn't often, I've longed to speak to you, to hear you, to feel you. Now I've caught you. And I don't intend to let go"

"You don't even know me.." she says, looking sad for once.

"I'm about to change that." I kiss her and she doesn't pull back. It's hard now to describe how it felt. There was an overflowing of emotions. We lost ourselves in the kiss. I wouldn't have cared if the world ended there and then. Her lips were soft. I stroked her back while she stroked my hair. A small sigh escaped from her. I felt a tear on my cheek and I realized it was hers.

"You don't even know my name" she said with a sad sigh, and she looked down. "And I know you know this is only a dream. So why are you so hung up on me? You don't even know me"

I knew it was a dream. I knew eventually I had to wake up. "I know," I tell her " I know you're not real. But I rather be with you then in the real world, so full of cruel women. That is why I love you. That is how I know you." I begin to feel a tear in my own eye. "Even if you aren't real"

I kiss her again. With more passion. I know it's about time that I got up. She breaks off the kiss, her face tear stained now, as mine is. She cups my face in her hands and smiles that smile for me again.

The night gives way to sunrise. I begin to feel as if I'm being pulled away from her. I grab at her outstretched hands and try not to leave but I know it's futile. Tearfully I ask her for her name.

"It's ......"

And that's when I woke up, my hand's holding on to nothing. I look around to see the familiar surroundings of my bedroom. She was nowhere to be found. I fought the urge to shed a tear and I reached for the cigarette instead.

"Motherfucker..." I muttered as I took the first drag of the day. And just like my dream this is how the post will end.. Abruptly.

nicer

2009-04-17T03:25:00.004+08:00

i swear i wanted snickers after seeing this. now if that's not good advertising i dont know what else is.

and now, selected conversations which the above picture provoked

T says:gosh those are some breathtaking mounds
thanks for the mammaries
J says:snickers... brrrrrtttt
do not put me into a conference now with you and J*@^#.. i'll blurt out SUGAR TITS
T says:home is where my habits have a habitat
man..that fiona apple
J says:man those snickers....
T says:hahaha

J says: indeed
so is sugar tits done with her studies or what?
or is she doing the bar there?
or a masters?
or working with snickers?
T says: i asked ^%#^# abt masters she said brb
motorboat?
hahahaah
J says: putting a candy bar somewhere i suppose
T says: HAHHAHAH
man neither of us are going to let this go away that easily huh?
J says: we'll get bored of it eventually
T says: yeah
J says: but im going to milk it for all its worth.
pun intended
T says:HAHHAHAHAHAH
HAHAHAHAH
fuck!!!

*note : brrrrrrtt = motor boat engine sounds. because breasts like snickers and sugar tits induce the desire to stuff your face between said lady lumps and make like a motor boat

names have been changed to protect myself and T from libel suits.

i never claimed i was a very mature person. especially when tits AND snickers are involved.

Nice

2009-04-17T03:04:00.001+08:00

Embedding=Fun/ Emo bands will rule the world

2009-03-31T15:47:00.003+08:00

So yes, as the title says, embedding is fun.

Emo bands will rule the world because everyone gets emo at some( read; most of the) time and since we all arent as musically creative or expressive we have to rely on them to provide an audio output to the outpouring emotions we feel but cant express without including the words "bitch", "fuck", and "YAAARRRGGHHH" in incoherrent sentences while simultaneuously blubbering away because we dont have enough emotional fortitude either. Band name leave much to be desired though

And no, this song is not directed at any one person in particular but rather to a whole host of people who have 'encouraged' and 'inspired' me to say "YARRRRGGGGHHH" at one point. Inside my head. I speak with my inside voice when im talking in my head.

Oh shit, im supposed to be working now

BitterSweet Kanye

2009-03-31T14:42:00.001+08:00

man's a poetic genius

Damn embedding is fun as fuck.

The Noose

2009-03-30T15:39:00.001+08:00

this just saves the effort of cutting and pasting the lyrics.

Just think of recovering alcoholics and people with holier than thou attitudes when you listen and read the lyrics.

Jam Bumi

2009-03-29T11:24:00.001+08:00

So I decided to be one of the sheep and off my lights during earth hour. It was fun to say the least. Sans the stubbing on toes and the sudden realization that im totally fucked in the dark. Here's a pic of the event

cool right?

Kanye West/All falls down/ Embeding testing

2009-03-23T00:02:00.003+08:00

Say what you will about Kanye West. People react to him in extremes of love and hate. Descriptions such as lyrical genius to arrogant bastard are all used interchangeably when talking about the man. But honestly, I am a fan of Kanye. Man just writes the greatest lyrics. Something we all can relate to, regardless of race, nationality or social status. I remember the song that made me a fan was "All falls down." Indulge me by allowing me to share it with you. with lyrics of course to follow.

yes, ju has learnt to post video's on his blog.

All Falls Down
Kanye West featuring Sylena Johnson
[Chorus - 4x]
Oh when it all, it all falls down
I'm telling you ohh, it all falls down

Man I promise, she's so self conscious
She has no idea what she's doing in college
That major that she majored in don't make no money
But she won't drop out, her parents will look at her funny
Now, tell me that ain't insecurrre
The concept of school seems so securrre
Sophmore three yearrrs aint picked a careerrr
She like fuck it, I'll just stay down herre and do hair
Cause that's enough money to buy her a few pairs of new Airs
Cause her baby daddy don't really care
She's so precious with the peer pressure
Couldn't afford a car so she named her daughter Alexus (a Lexus)
She had hair so long that it looked like weave
Then she cut it all off now she look like Eve
And she be dealing with some issues that you can't believe
Single black female addicted to retail and well

Oh when it all, it all falls down
I'm telling you ohh, it all falls down

Man I promise, I'm so self conscious
That's why you always see me with at least one of my watches
Rollies and Pasha's done drove me crazy
I can't even pronounce nothing, pass that versace!
Then I spent 400 bucks on this
Just to be like nigga you ain't up on this!
And I can't even go to the grocery store
Without some ones thats clean and a shirt with a team
It seems we living the american dream
But the people highest up got the lowest self esteem
The prettiest people do the ugliest things
For the road to riches and diamond rings
We shine because they hate us, floss cause they degrade us
We trying to buy back our 40 acres
And for that paper, look how low we a'stoop
Even if you in a Benz, you still a nigga in a coop

Oh when it all, it all falls down
I'm telling you ohh, it all falls down

I say fuck the police, thats how I treat em
We buy our way out of jail, but we can't buy freedom
We'll buy a lot of clothes when we don't really need em
Things we buy to cover up what's inside
Cause they make us hate ourself and love they wealth
That's why shortys hollering "where the ballas' at?"
Drug dealer buy Jordans, crackhead buy crack
And a white man get paid off of all of that
But I ain't even gon act holier than thou
Cause fuck it, I went to Jacob with 25 thou
Before I had a house and I'd do it again
Cause I wanna be on 106 and Park pushing a Benz
I wanna act ballerific like it's all terrific
I got a couple past due bills, I won't get specific
I got a problem with spending before I get it
We all self conscious I'm just the first to admit it

[Chorus - to fade (w/ Kanye ad-libs)]

you will, my astute readers, have noticed that some parts of the lyrics are in bold. Its because those are the verses that appealed to me most.
The first verse about the girl who dropped of college, reminds me o f a girl i know and the insecurities and peer pressure that she, and im sure all of us at one time or another experienced.

The second verse of course being about what i had already observed in so many people when money is involved. You lose your identity is what happens, being so caught up in the rat race. And the part about getting back 40 acres, it transcends the black rights to reparations to all those around the world who just want what was promised to them fairly.

The third verse, again about money and material wealth, and how it changes people and their perceptions. And the last three lines, its just like looking into the mirror. and of course, the title, when in all falls down.. whats going to happen? Mr Kanye West leaves that to you, the listener, to make your own conclusions.

This post was as much about trying to embed a video as it was trying to share and analyze lyrics with you. Bur thanks for reading anyway.

The Friendzone/ Posturing and Passive Aggressiveness

2009-03-21T13:44:00.007+08:00

You know, my love life is like my pool playing. I have a few great opening shots but when it comes to the end game i fuck up big time. Yes, the imagery of hitting balls into holes with a long stick does not escape my observation as well. It all comes back to the friend zone thing that I have referred to countless times. I do all the right things that a girl wants to see in a man, but by some twisted mindfuck girls delude themselves into thinking, wait a minute, a perfect guy can't exist. Ergo, he must be a really good friend because only a really good male friend wouldnt take advantage of me and only a good male friend could be so nice to me without ulterior motives. And thats where i slot in. Im always the potential stalker turned good friend in the end. Not that this is a craigslist ad, but i do find myself being a good listener, a gentleman, and im occasionally gut wrenchingly funny. I stress the words "occasionally". And please feel free to comment on those "qualities" or lack of it. This comment is of course only open to people I've dated or attempted to do so, and since more than half of those girls hate (or through a series of fucked up events, mostly on my part, will hate) my guts, im expecting zero comments. So once i pot in those shots which could make efren reyes or alex pagulayan my bitch, i proceed to entrench myself deep into the friend zone. And as we all know, the sitcom of said same named zone is utter cock because friends can never ever get together in real life . The whole Rachael-Ross saga was a good run until the end where the writers basically copped the fuck out to give everyone that ridiculously false feel good feeling. Reality, my friends, is a motherfucker. I should know. I did a dissertation on it in Life 101. It was entitled "posturing and passive aggressiveness. How girls mindfuck themselves when it comes to relationships"

On that same note, since most girls have that perennial feeling of no guy can be that good unless he's my friend, i have come to the conclusion that most girls want to be with someone fucked up. Unintentionally or not, i leave it open to debate. But if you answered in the latter, you have some serious inferiority complexes and issues to deal with Rhianna. Thats the term im going to use from now on to refer to these confused females who deliberately get into harmful relationships because of some deep seated psychological problem. But of course im being condescending. I've been through harmful relationships myself. But it the fact that i learn from these incidents that allows me the right to be condescending. At least in my own personal rant-o-log anyway.

Me and Megaman are officially over. As in over attempting to recreate old feelings in new experiences anyway. As in i will still be single and she most decidedly will not be. I kinda thought so from the start anyway. Which is why im not as deeply psychologically scarred again. It hurts, but it hurts like a stubbed toe. It'll go away eventually. More in the short term effect anyway. Benefits of being a realist and not becoming too emotionally vested in something which you know will in all likelihood fail anyway but you give it a go because of sentimental value. Sentimental value means squat in the world now anyway. The world is a harsh and cruel mistress that indulges in SadoMasochism. All for the price of your innocence and sanity. Counterstrike on the other hand... she's Blanche DuBois personified. Im a little bit to lazy to go into details, plus i dont want to be sued for defamation, but i am alluding to the fact that her character fits perfectly into that of Blanche. Read a Streetcar named Desire if you want to know ed zachery what im talking about.

So, in closing, fuck all the posturing and all the passive aggressive bullshit.

Click below

2009-03-18T18:35:00.002+08:00

http://www.projectmalaysia.org/2009/03/malaysia-and-governance-a-historical-perspective/

This almost makes up for all the bad shit in life. Almost.

2009 #3/ revisiting the old well

2009-01-31T14:54:00.002+08:00

Relationships are really complicated machinations and devices of the human heart. That goes without saying. I should know. or rather, more accurately, based on my one experience which totally scarred me to the brink of insanity, I think i should know. But that's the whole problem isn't it? I don't know. My first love turned out to be the be all and end all of what i know about love. And honestly, if you know me at all, its a rather bleak assessment. I mean most first loves dont last, but from what i've seen, they dont end with you breaking everything within sight, bloodying your hands from punching the wall and self scarification. It was the first time i called my dad and confided in him something so personal. See, my father hasnt lived in the same roof as me since i was 11 and we didnt have this father- son- you- can- talk- to- me- about- anything bond since then. I keep my thoughts to myself mostly. So you can imagine how much that incident fucked me up till the extent i had to call my father. Because honestly, i had no one else to turn to at the time who could have shown me unconditional love but my father. Since then, I would like to say that I have matured a little more. No more breaking things, intentionally anyway. No more bloodying hands unless if its during cricket or helping with a DIY project. And no more self scarification. I have my degree now, and im part of the work force. My life is pretty much on track except for a few minor setbacks such as a tv with busted speakers, a bad smoking habit, a slight phobia of driving in busy streets and could- do- better financial status. Oh, and the fact that im just utterly fucking confused about the women in my life(the-platonic-looking-towards-a- relationship women), namely for M and CS. No, you dumb shit, im not talking about Megaman or Counter Strike.

Recently, as you're all aware, I have begun to my quest to woo the fair maiden CS from her Ivory tower of Self Isolation. My efforts so far have been hampered by her unwillingness to be more open to my advancements to move beyond the friend zone and, in all honesty, its getting a little bit exasperating. Unreadable intentions are merely the tip of the iceberg with this one folks. More recently however, I have managed to rekindle relations with M as well. Remember that whole story about first love ending in bloody fists and broken furniture and all that good stuff? Yeah, meet the cause of all it. I shan't go into further detail as i already have in the past and its still a little bit too painful to be revisiting old scars to be honest. Strangely enough, i still find that, even after all the pain she caused, mentally as well as physically self caused due to mental instabilities, we are actually quite good friends. The comfort level is amazing, and its one i wish i could have shared with past attempts at love. And therein lies the root of this confusion. I have honestly wanted to close the chapter with M, which explains why i pursued every new attempt with a gusto unseen that it might come off as trying too hard. Well, guess what sister? I fucking was. Obviously it doesn't work and you know, after being single for so long you just get to the same fucking routine of flower picking. Is she the one, Is she not the one. Is she the one, Is she not the one. Im still single and i dread this feeling of being alone and being unable to share my joys, what little of it there is, with a significant other. And to confound this conundrum i did a Chasing Amy with M the other day, without the eventual getting together and discussions of finger cuffing. Which again, makes me wonder if my feelings for CS are really as strong as i thought it was. Could it be she is again a victim of the ChapterClosing syndrome? Could it be that im just a really lonely person and couldnt help myself? Could it be that despite everything i just want that comfort level again even though it earns me scorn and rejection from others dear to me? Could it be that they're making a live action movie of the comic Green Lantern? Ok, the last question wasn't really that relevant to the current issue. The fact is, im just very confused right now.

I want old comforts in a new experience and new comforts with old experiences. But pursuing both just fucking sucks because the end product of rejection from both is something i dont think i can handle and the days of bloody hands and broken inanimate objects might resurface again. No.. not something i want at all

You know, im just so bloody sorry i cant talk about issues that are more serious thats affecting the world like Israel and Gaza or the economic crisis. Unlike the currently discussed problems, those are situations i cant do shit about so why the fuck should i give my two cents when there are more "qualified" people who have already given theirs for top dollar? And yes, im happy, thank you very fucking much, except i seem to have this problem with women so if you dont mind letting me get back to my perfectly imperfect world and you just go back to your perfect little made up plastic world where everything was given to you because you were just so fucking blessed with everything while i got the shit end of things because, i dont know, maybe God thinks you're better than me, or its just because daddy was always there for you or you know you're just so fucking good looking that you get chicks/dudes left and right while my chicks are my left and right.......... we're going to get along just fine.

allworkandnolovemakejuadullboy allworkandnoplaymakejuadullboy allworkandnolovemakejuadullboy allworkandnoplaymakejuadullboy
allworkandnolovemakejuadullboy allworkandnoplaymakejuadullboy

sorry, that was my homage to the shining. brilliant show that one....

and yes i deliberately made this post long so that people would be turned off by and and wont read it. Did it work?

Nigthmare #1 2009

2009-01-21T17:49:00.003+08:00

It started out great. You finally got over your fear of me and my sins, and I got over my insecurities and cowardice. The question was asked offhandedly and you said yes, in a restaurant with a forgettable name and forgettable food, but with an underlying layer of hope and love. For the first time in a long time I smiled, smiled sincerely, smiled contently, I just smiled for no other reason other than the fact that you wanted to share your life with me. Its funny how the greatest joys in life are always in a whirlwind of the moment. It happens, but it happens so fast that if you blinked, you missed. Its so unlike the bitterness of scorn and rejection. They happen like a train wreck in slow motion. And they scar you for life while you try to comfort yourself with the fleeting moments of happiness that you had but just cant for the life of you seem to be recalled to be looked at and smiled upon like a photo of the past. The only thing I do remember is the softness of your hands and the warm feeling I get every time we touched, physically and emotionally. And most of all, I remembered the smiles. If the world was destroyed in a fiction worthy disaster, I wouldn't have changed a thing knowing that I had seen you smile. And you had made me smile. Then the scene of things begin to change. The softness is no longer there, and the warm feeling is now cold and unfeeling. You don't smile as much as you used to, if hardly ever anymore. You have a new friend now, someone you've deemed worthy to share your life with. I have been usurped. I have been robbed. I have been vilified. I no longer have you. And you want nothing to do with me. Even your friend is so well liked while I'm and loathed and hated. I don't know how it happened. Worse, I don't know why it happened. And the worst part of it all, I don't smile anymore.

And that's when I woke up. In a cold sweat. And guess what, I wasn't smiling again.

Fucking nightmare.

2009 #2

2009-01-18T18:29:00.002+08:00

writing this fast so please dont mind the spelling and grammar errors.

life has been good but it could get better. im officially part of the work force, things are better with father and progress with CS has be going well or so i hope it is. i still get the feeling that she isint comfortable with me but that could be just a general thing because every girl i've ever gone for has turned out lesbian or hating me , whichever comes first, so you will forgive me for my premature assumption and misread intentions as this is shaky territory for me and i feel like the lone unassuming swimmer and love is the shark. Also, i wish to move out of the friend zone of which i have deeply entrenched myself in since the book incident. this is not helped by the fact that the realities of the working world allow one no social life and whatever sparse time she is free, she has other people and events and to entertain. which again pricks up my inate sense of low self esteem and paranoia. all seems now well however, so yes, i am content. i.e. i could feel happier but im alright the way i am now.

later.

2009 #1

2009-01-02T06:58:00.002+08:00

as you, my intellectually gifted and observant readers, can tell, its the first entry(read rant) of the year 2009 Anni Domini. First order of the agenda(read random rant) is the fact that no, I have not changed my outlook on life, i.e. i think its still a fucking shit hole and i question my parent's motives in consummating their marriage for the second time and thus "creating" me. I think its part of the karmic punishment for being a cruel bastard in my past life but that's just my opinion anyway. The rationale behind such cynical and not too optimistic beliefs and outlooks is the fact that, even after pursuing a professional degree i still find myself jobless which ergo shows me what the world really thinks I'm worth, that is, in short, jack shit. and that, since 12:00 am January 1st 2009 its been 4 fucking years since I've been in a relationship, let alone had sex. Yes I still believe it is the be all and end all of my life and fuck you for saying its not because you get it on a regular basis or lead a very non exciting(read non sexual active) life(which you're quite content with *coughfaggotcough*). So yes, since 2005 circa being dumped because I'm, of all things, not a girl, i still maintain that the world is a shitty place. and while we're on this round of giving out fuck yous, i did like to give an especially angsty and venomous one to the fuckers who fucked up the world economy. FUCK YOU.

in other news here on ju-rants news network (JRNN for you acronym lovers) I dint understand why everyone is protesting Israel bombing the shit out of Gaza. Don't get me wrong, I, like every sheep, i mean everyone else, am into that whole UN we're citizens of the world love peace and harmony nonsensical and idealistic crap and of course I think Israel should be slapped on their little bumbum and told not to bomb the crap out of Gaza(again) but what I do not buy into is this demonstration/protest crap. If the fucking UN cant get Israel to stop dropping the bombs do you think the Zionist will give a crap and listen to some common street protester shouting catchy mob chants and carrying glittered up banners saying how much you love Palestine and waving Palestinian flags and fucking blocking up the streets? Lets face reality, they don't give a fuck. Where were all these protests and all this outpouring of empathy when the Palestinians were launching Quassam rockets into Israel? Where was all this brotherly love when your own citizens were being persecuted and jailed just for telling the truth and demanding justice? Where is all this furious and righteous anger when Africans are dying and facing genocide and starvation? Where was all this sympathy when 2000 innocent Americans died in a terrorist attack? Where were your flags and your banners when the suicide bombers killed dozens of Israelis commuting to their workplace in a bus? I don't fucking claim to be anti Islamic, Semitic, Christian or otherwise, I agree, what Israel is doing now is wrong, but I don't happen to protest "selective" and "hot topic" issues and events just because its on the news and the Shepards herd their sheep and tell them its right to do so either.

moving on to interpersonal relationships, Ms CS is, enigmatic to say the least. Oh how you do attract me with your perceived innocence and purity yet how you repel me at the same time with the unsaid loathing and avoidance like the plague. I'm tired of paying for my past sins. why cant you just see that i have nothing but best intentions and sincere feelings for you, or have the shrouds of my past sins blinded you so much from the truth of the situation like all my other failed attempts at human connection? If hell is what awaits me, then i truly have no fear of whats to come. Just, for once, take my hand, trust me, and stay.

Hell, that imaginary paradox of that other imaginary place called heaven. It reminds me of a quote, with which i will leave you with on this the 2nd day of the year 2009, on a most sombre and once again angsty note. but then again, you already knew all that when you visited this blog didn't you?

Faustus: Where are you damned?

Mephastophilis: In Hell

F:How comes it then that thou art out of hell?

M:Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it. Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God, and tasted the eternal joys of heaven, am not tormented with ten thousand hells in being deprived of everlasting bliss? O Faustus, leave these frivolous demands, which strike a terror to my fainting soul.

Scene 3, Dr Faustus by Christopher Marlowe.

Love English Lit. Hate life. For now. Speaking monotonously. Like Neanderthal. Hurrrrr. Heh.
*Writer has become temporarily insane from lack of sleep, or pussy, or both.

My night at Magoos

2008-10-11T18:38:00.003+08:00

It was packed, packed to the brim. The exuberance of youth was for once too overwhelming. Crushing. To sum it all up, it was fucking crowded. I needed to get out, already the alcoholic fumes were making my senses to a thing of lead. Past the gatekeepers, the fanciful word for the overly tattooed, tough as nails looking bouncers, the protectors against underage drinking.. or their establishment loosing their credentials and thus closing down, whichever takes moral precedence, out into the sweet ocean sprayed atmosphere that is the outside of the bar. The relieve is greatly felt, tinged with the smell of fellow smokers. I oblige my inner needs and light up one myself. Its as serene as it can get, the muted blaring of some college themed song thats been overplayed on shows like dawson's creek and smallville a few to many times in the background, a few socially unaware drunks proclaiming their state of inebriation, and the cloying tinge of nicotine in the air. Pure bliss. Then SHE came..

She looked, for want of better words, drunk as fuck. From the corner of my eye, from my own little space of bliss in the crowd, She comes intruding. Unsteady of her steps, she finally regains her foothold, only to then disturb my alcohol hazed tranquility by belting out the song "Rain rain go away, please come back another day," before amusingly transitioning to ".. or I'll have to bring out my umbrella-ella-ella-eh-eh-eh hehehehe". Fucking brilliant, so we, the collective tobacco smokers for a moment take in the obviously hilarious butchering of a nursery rhyme and a pop song all in one breathe and applaud such an effort. Our drunk American Idol wannabe taking in the applause, bows to accept it, and promptly falls over. Needing no cue the crowd laughs. Im not ashamed to be counted among them because.. well... it was funny as fuck.

Being one inclined to be helpful to fellow man, in this case woman, I, being the closes help her up. She slurs her thanks and promptly proclaims that she is drunk as fuck. The word Captain Obvious pops to mind. Having done my civic duty I start to walk away back to corner of bliss in the crowd. Then she asks "How are you tonight? Do you have anywhere to stay? Can I come stay with you?" To which my horrified self replies "No, no. I don't have a place of my own. I'm just a tourist." To which she replies the reply that will forever be told as a funny story at social events for ages to come, " Oh wow, Im a Pieces. We can so totally connect!". Cue laughter. I try to change the subject again and enquire as to where her friends are, to which she replies with drunken aplomb, "Fuck them, I dont need them, the stupid bitches. If I see them I'll kill them." Obviously they didnt like her singing as much as we did.

She then starts to stroke my back in a very, if you weren't drunk and you weren't fugly we did be fucking very soon, kind of way and inquires of me " Do you have any friends? Do you want to be friends just for tonight?" followed by a very disturbing girlish giggle. At this point your scribe was feeling 5 kinds of panic. Did I mention she was fugly? I mean, Im not (insert current hot male actor's name here) but fuck it man, I have standards too. Plus, true fact, its Hawaiian law that consent is not given if it is given in a state of intoxication. Not wanting to rape or in this case, seeing as Female Pavarotti here was just ready to jump on me, be raped, I mumbled 10 different excuses ranging from, im too young to die to I already have a girlfriend inside while simultaneously removing myself from her stroking and getting back to my table faster than Michael Phelps could swim.

I did not regain my blissful nicotine intaking again after that. Copious amounts of alcohol helped though.

A patriot's hope.

2008-09-11T03:01:00.010+08:00

Let me just clarify something about the last post. It is not racist in nature. It is not the case where its the Malays versus the Chinese. Its about anger at an insensitive racist bigot. Its not a matter about whether Ahmad Ismail being suspended from UMNO is a sufficient enough punishment or not. I couldn't care less if nothing happened or if he was expelled. It doesn't change the fact that a bigotry racist statement was made and the maker has vehemently refused to apologise because he perceives that nothing wrong has been done. What matters is that something is done to ensure nothing like this happens again. And i don't fucking mean Malays making racist statements about the Chinese or vice versa. I mean a lesson should be set to ensure no one, Malay, Chinese, Indian or otherwise never ever make such racist statements again. The country is proudly portrayed as multi ethnic and multi cultural and all races living in harmony. This image is something we should strive to achieve to and not sully our good name abroad with incidents of such blatant bigotry and racism. I know its hard, our country having such a sordid past of racial tension. Need I remind everyone of May 13 1969 or the Kampung Medan incident? But have we not for the most part managed to live in relative, albeit fragile harmony? I know its not perfect but fuck, you don't see lynchings and something akin to the Ku Klux Klan forming do you? We do not need incidences such as this, or Mohd. Nasri's infamous "if you don't like Malaysia you can get out" speech in Parliament or Wee Meng Chee parodying our National Anthem. On that note, it should be noted that he has apologized sincerely for it, unlike certain racist bigots. Even though the government has threatened to take away his citizenship and even calls for him to be jailed for sedition. I don't see anything like this happening for Ahmad Ismail. Don't people get it? We just want an apology. Not from the Deputy Prime Minister or from somebody else other than the maker of the statement. That just reeks of insincerity and lip service. Again, its not about Malays and/or UMNO in general but a specific bigot and racist.

Its not a case where the Chinese are so fucking sensitive about every fucking thing. The majority of us are being kept out of Universities strictly because of the colour of our skin. Its ok, we can go to Private Institutions. Most of us anyway. I wonder what happens to poor families. More advantages and favours are given to Malays in terms of business and property deals. That's ok, we get the fact that you're the majority race around here. We've lived with it and managed to thrive as Malaysian citizens first and as a race second. We pay our taxes, we follow the law, we fulfil our civic duty by participating in the Elections, we stand at attention when the National Anthem is played, we tell people that we're Malaysians, first, Chinese second whenever we're overseas and delight in the fact that blissfully ignorant people from supposedly developed nations try to wrap their head around the idea of a multi cultural multi ethnic society and we'll fight for the freedom of our country should we ever be oppressed from foreign invasion. We did it in World War 2 and we'll certainly do it again now. On the issue of Islam, I honestly couldn't care less. I respect the religion and its followers. We know its your religion, but please, don't make it ours and impose on us and we'll reciprocate vice versa. We are not pushing Malays to the wall. We are not demanding that Chinese and Indians get special rights over and above that of the Malays. We know that special rights were designated for a historcal reason and our forefathers have agreed to it. But that was then.Its already been 51 years and the country must evolve with the changing needs of the rakyat. Im very sure that many of the Malays have as much potential to be successful as much as any other person. I know quite a number of successful Malays. Having crutches such as these special rights will only be an impediment to the economy, unity and stability of the country in the long run.We just want a fair and equal opportunity for all Malaysians that will do nothing but make the country better, for us, the rakyat, as a whole, and in the eyes of the world. Race should not and never be an issue and an impediment to the success and growth of the nation and racist and bigotry statements like Ahmad Ismail which, i repeat again, he vehemently refuses to apologize for, does not at all help and enable us to achieve such a desired goal for the betterment of the nation. Though I've written this from a Chinese point of view, I'm sure that my fellow citizens, the Indians and of course the Malays and other races in Malaysia, can agree with whats being said here. If not feel free to comment. I am open to constructive criticism.

We cannot adopt a "biar lah" attitude to such bigotry. It only serves to encourage more bigotry behavior. Some would say that this is a trivial matter. That we should be concentrating on other more "important" matters, like Tun Mahatir Mohammad joining UMNO again after years of retirement or that Dato Seri Anwar Ibrahim is going to take over the government in 5 days time. My fellow Malaysians, all that won't matter for shit if we can't preserve national and racial unity.

I know cynics out there will point out that I'm painting a masterpiece with crayons for the future of our country. That I'm overly optimistic that there will ever be any racial unity within our country. That I'm still young and I'm just being naive because I don't know what it's really like to be racially prejudiced. I'm not blind to the realities of life. I know Malaysia's a boiling pot of racial tension that's just waiting to boil over and the situation is not being helped by racial tension being stoked and encouraged by reckless, selfish, bigoted and racists individuals such as Ahmad Ismail or Wee Meng Chee or certain radical elements of Hindraf or irresponsible journalism. I know things are fucked up right now with affirmative action policies and a really fucked up mind set that's been bread by social inequalities. But I have dreams, and I have hopes that our country will rise above this pettiness, be united as a whole, and take its rightful place among the worlds nations one day. It will take a long time, I may not even live to see this hope become a reality. But I rather have hope than have nothing at all but a sense of hopelessness. If there is no hope and dreams, why even fucking bother living. I love my country, not for what it is now, but for its potential to be so much better than what we are now.

I know im contradicting myself with what I said in my fuck BN post. I hope you can understand that that was mostly said in anger, my initial reaction after reading about Ahmad Ismail and in retrospect, I was pretty harsh. And, unlike someone, I apologize for it. Sincerely. I did not think about the issue thoroughly and wrote in an unfair and biased manned. BN has contributed significantly to the growth of the country and for that we are grateful, but a party must evolve with the needs of its people and it has failed to do as shown by the peoples dissatisfaction in the recent elections. And in regards to my post in Malay, yes, that was also written in a very biased and racist manner and i also apologize for that. As a friend said, you can't fight racism with racism. All races contributed to the founding of our great nation. I apologize for being a hypocrite and descending to the level of the people of which i condescendingly looked down upon without first examining my own flaws. Like Malaysia, I'm not perfect. But at least i can admit my mistakes and strive to be a better person.

a reply in kind

2008-09-09T21:23:00.002+08:00

sensetive betul org cina bila dgr kenyataan datuk ahmad ismail tu yeee, selama ni mereka selalu kutuk2 org melayu , ingat org melayu tak tau marah ke, bila kene kat kauorg tahu pun marah, relexlaa kaum cina lain kali pikir dulu laa kenapa org melayu dah tak boleh sabar sekarang.

putrawaja07

this was a comment on youtube in regards to a youtube video by a fellow Malaysian rightly criticizing Ahmad Ismail's racists remark. Since this was written in our national language, i shall reply in kind

Orang Cina sensitif? Orang Melayu marah kerana dikutuk? Kamu ingatkan dan rasionalkanlah apakah sebab kamu dikutuk. Kamu tidak belajar sejarah di sekolah ke? Sebelum ini, apabila Kesultanan Meleka ditubuhkan ia selalu diserang oleh orang Siam. Siapa yang kamu larikan kepada untuk perlindungan? Oh... orang Cina. Siapakah yand selalu membuat perdagangan dengan Kesulatan Melaka? Oh.. orang Cina. Apabila diserang oleh Jepun siapakah yang tolong untuk mempertahankan negara dan tidak berkolabarasikan dengan penakluk kita? Oh.. orang Cina. Selepas itu pun ada Darurat dengan Komunis. Memanglah Kebanyakan orang komunis kaum cina tetapi bukan semua komunis orang Cina. Ingat tak siapa Rashid Maidin? Tidak nampak seperti nama orang Cina. Bukan begitu saja, Darurat dilihatkan sebagai sebuah perjuangan yang ekslusif kepada orang Melayu sahaja. Tentera Kommanwel dan penolong Cina dan India dilupakan. Menteri Informasi dulu Zainuddin Maidin pun telah berkate bahawa penolongan kaum-kaum lain kepada perjuangan menamatkan Darurat patut dikenalikan. Selepas itu ingat tak apa yang berlaku pada 13hb Mei 1969? Tidak ada orang yang meminta maaf kepada semua orang Cina pada masa itu pun. Tak apa. Kan kita sebuah negara yang muhibah? Dan sekarang, kita pun ada apa yang boleh dipanngil Hak Ketuanan Melayu dan Hak Istimewa Bumiputra. Sekarang pun ada sistem kuota di dalam University Malaya bahawa hanya 10% kaum yang bukan Melayu boleh masuk. Sekarang pun ada skima di mana orang Melayu boleh membeli rumah pada yang lebih murah berbanding dengan kaum yang bukan Melayu. Sekarang pun ada praktis di dalam cara membentuk sebuah kompani dimana 30% pemegang sher mestilah jadi orang Melayu. Beritahulah kepada kita orang Cina di sini, bagaimanakah kita sepatutnya berasa? Anak kita tidak boleh memasuki Universiti national dan mesti bayar yuran kolej swasta dan tinggi. Kita tidak boleh tubuhkan kompani swasta diri sendiri tanpa 30% pemegang sher yang kaum Melayu. Bagaimanakah kita patut berasa dengan kesemua prejudis terhadap kita kerana warna kulit kita?Bagaimanakah kita tidak boleh rasa sensitif apabila orang seperti Ahmad Ismail dan Nasri kata kita "pendatang asing" and " jika lu tidak suka Malaysia lu boleh keluar Malaysia"dan tidak meminta maaf? Kamu ingat dululah apa yang kamu telah buat kepada kaum kita sebulum buka mulut. Kita ini semua anak Malaysia. Kita mahu apa yang terbaik untuk semua penduduk and kaum di Malaysia. Saya bukan orang yang bersikap perkauman. Saya tidak kutuk orang Melayu dalam keseluruhan. Kebanyakan kawan saya pun orang Melayu tetapi mereka tidak berfikir kecil and bersikap perkauman seperti kamu dan Dato Ahmad Ismail. Mereka faham ketidakadilan yang berlaku di dalam negara kita. Dengan itu, fikirlah betul-betul sebelum mengkritikan orang yang lain dan bergesa-gesa untuk melindungkan Ketuanan Melayu. Kita tidak peduli, kita hanya mahu keadilan untuk semua kaum di Malaysia.

Terima Kasih

Malaysia at it's best

2008-09-04T18:02:00.002+08:00

Datuk Ahmad Ismail, the Bukit Bendera Umno Chief, who has recently created some headlines after uttering some racist remarks against the Chinese community is conveniently ‘missing’, avoiding the limelight ever since the issue came into light. Ahmad who in his ceramah at the Permatang Pauh by-election campaign said “Malaysians of Chinese origin are merely squatting in this country and hence, not entitled to equality” is being investigated under the Sedition Act. His personal assistant said that Ahmad has since returned to Malaysia after leading a Sepak Takraw team ni Bangkok and said “I have been trying to contact him since but there was no response. Even his voice mail is full. I think he does not want to be disturbed and thus we should leave him alone,”

-Zen, MalaysiaToday

Do I even have to fucking point out how fucking fucked up that is? Let's see, when Wee Meng Chee did a parody of the national anthem in which he told the truth about how the situation is Malaysia i.e. its fucked up and what happens? Lets fucking take away his citizenship. He apologizes and what happens? UMNO says it not adequate enough. Hindraf members P. Uthayakumar, Waytha Moorthy, and V.S. Ganapathi Rao, were arrested and charged under the Sedition Act for demanding rights for indians. So lets break things down. If a chinaman and an indian say something even remotely racists or seditious then we should put them in jail or demand that we take away their citizenship. But if a Malay man who's ruling party Chief of a district makes a racist remark then its alright. Just, you know, slap him on the wrist and tell him not to do it again. Or apologize on his behalf. Oh, police investigation requiring him to give statement, its ok, he can disappear. And since we can't get his phone we should leave him alone because we think he wants to be left alone. And what does the Malaysian Chinese Association say to all this. Oh we accept someone else's apology on his behalf. Fucking lap dog yes men cock suckers. And they wonder why they did so badly in the Election. Listen to the rakyat much?

So, to keep it short and simple. FUCK BARISAN NATIONAL.

UPDATE. Ahmad Ismail has given his statement to the police. Oh, after missing the deadline you mean? So when Dato Seri Anwar Ibrahim was on his way to give his statement, 2 hours before the deadline, he gets rounded up by G men. Surrounding his car, pointing guns at them. Telling him he's under arrest. BEFORE giving his statement to the police. So its not just a racial thing but a political thing. I see..

Again. FUCK BARISAN NATIONAL.

So they want to arrest me for sedition too? I mean, I am Chinese and I am making "seditious" remarks. Im sure the moment i land i KLIA they'll have a nice welcoming committee. Unless the fucking MCMC wants to block this site too.

Holy Fucking boredom Batman!

2008-09-02T17:53:00.002+08:00

I dont even know why i used that as my title other than the fact that it helps convey how bored i am. Well not about my stay here but just at this current time. which is currently 2.33 am. I know i know, I'm back to Malaysian timing again but I cant help it. There's nothing to do in the day. Generally anyway. Today was a bit of fun. Well, as much fun as someone the age of 23 can have on a day out with his mum and her husband i.e. not my dad. Went to see a big old boat called the Queen Mary. Go wikipedia it, im to lazy to give you a run down of its history and significance. The only thing I will highlight is the fact thats its haunted and we actually went for the "paranormal" tour. I.e. they lead you down to the bowels of the ship where its dark and creepy, intentionally or not i dont know, but i would not want to spend some time down there, well lighted or not. They did the whole tourist trap thing with the lights ans sounds and special effects and stuff. It wasnt all that scary really. Except for that one part in the abandoned swimming pool. That had fucked up and there might actually be some spooky shit going around here written all over the place. Even after all the fake special effects and lights and standard haunted house banshee scream, it just felt, weird. Thats all i can say. Can't really describe it myself. It's like you have a feeling that something is wrong( and you're not an overly paranoid person already) and in fact yeah, something is wrong e.g. cat died or cousin's sick. Still dont know what im talking about? Thats ok, i didnt claim i was a very good describer of things. I don't think im a good writer even. As im writing this i can see all the typos and grammatical mistakes being made but im just to arsed to scroll up and right click and select the right correction.

Coming back to the title, well, i am a comic book fan. I've read all the good stuff from batman, i.e. the dark knight returns, its sequal and year one et al, but other than that, i dont know much about the character. Its like having a fuck buddy. You get all the best out of a relationship without having a relationship. In the end you just know how well the she sucks your dick and lets you fuck her doggy style but everything else are just details which you dont need to know. I.e. stuff you dont need to know because you dont want to know the person better emotionally. Same thing with the batman comics. I mean, i guess if you enjoy the sex/great stories but just dont feel up to having a long term relationship/following then its alright to skip the other complicated relationship stuff/tons of back issues you have to catch up with. Whoo, i connected sex and comics. You are of course free to disagree with me and be all BATMAN ROCKS WHOO!!YOU DONT EQUATE SEX AND COMICS!! Yeah batman rocks, but im just not a fanboy. And daredevil would kick batman's ass, despite the sucky movie. And green lantern rocks too aight?... shit.. you see what america has done to me? Its got me occasionally saying stuff like aight, what up, and whatevs and etc. etc. Oh... and only someone as bored or as neurotic as me could connect sex with a friend with benefits and comic book analyzing bordering on fanboy fanaticism.

Aight,(dammit, again) thats it for now. And no, no poem today. No impromptu juice today.Hahaha.. that sounds sick. Or maybe its just me.

Yay.. Not an angsty post. Enjoy this reader. Its a rare occasion when ju-rants dosent get all emo and angsty on you. Wait.. are there even people reading this?