Sunday, February 27, 2005

first and last time

If you read my blog a few days ago, there was an article which mentioned that I was acting in a play. That was last night.

Apparently, besides the costume that we have to wear, another important accessory was putting goo makeup on your face. One fine day, many many moons ago, some idiot thought it would be a good idea to get women to use that makeup thingy. On another fine day, another idiot thought it would be an even better idea to make men wear makeup on stage. That theory stuck, and all over the world, actors have to endure all that crap on their face.

It was no different last night. I arrived at the dressing room to find all this crap on the table :

Of all that crap, I could only identify and correctly name 3 items. Lipstick, hair pin, hair gel. I never knew the difference between eye-liner and eye-shadow. I still don't have a fucking clue what mascara is and where you are supposed to put it.

When SnowWhite started putting all that goo on my face, she told me one by one what she was putting :

SnowWhite : Ok...now I am going to put some foundation on your face.

Vincent : What's a foundation?

SnowWhite : Its the .............. *I forgot what she said...wasn't too bothered*

Vincent : Ooooooooooooooooohhhh...

SnowWhite : Now, I am going to put some blusher.

Vincent : I don't need blusher. If I drink enough beer, my face will turn red.

SnowWhite : No no...this one is a bronzer (or some shit like that)

Vincent : Riiiigghhtt........bronze away!

SnowWhite : Now I am going to put some .............. *Again I forgot what she said*

Vincent : I wanna make a suggestion. I won't remember all those stuffs you told me. So just do whatever you want to do with my face la.

SnowWhite : *after plastering some more crap* Ok. Have a look at the mirror. Tell me if you think its enough or you want summore.

Vincent : Hehehe....do you think I will know whether its enough? I reckon 'enough' is when I don't have any makeup at all.

Notes :

1) My face looked funny. After the play I took a lot of pictures with fellow cast members and with friends in the audience. It was white and different. My eyes looked like they had been punched in.

2) That bronzer or whatever shit that was....smelt like rabbit puke. Why do women voluntarily put rabbit puke on their face? So close to the nose...can they not smell it?

3) Lipstick tastes like mud. I accidentally got mud in my mouth once when playing football. Why do women voluntarily put mud in their lips? So close to the tongue...can they not taste it?

Women are damn weird.......what happened to all that crap about natural beauty?? I have also heard many women making fun of other women. They dunno how to put makeup...they not skillful enough. I just have this to say to those people. So, you guys are proud of being able to deceive men?

Oooh....by the way, that above picture reminded me of one thing. Guys can't name more than 5 things on that picture. However, I think 10% of women out there doesn't even know what the picture below is. The remaining 90% probably can't even name what the red arrow is pointing at.

**If you are a guy and don't even know what the red arrow is pointing to, please stop reading, cut off your balls with your kitchen knife, and feed them to the starving hyenas in the Afghan zoos. Then go to Thailand to get yourself a pair of boobs before you come back to this site.

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Friday, February 25, 2005

snow fun

On Wednesday, I woke up and got ready to go for class as usual. After leaving my room and walking out, I saw that the whole landscape was covered in some beautiful white ice. Its called snow, if you didn't already know that. Now, class is something that goes on everyweek.

But where I am, if you wake up and see 3 inches of snow, you should consider yourself lucky. And so, a bunch of us thought it would be a good idea to play with the snow. It started off as usual, everybody making snowballs and throwing at other people. We then realised that its damn tiring to do that. And so...we spent the next 2 hours making the most of the snow all around.

The dude you see is about 5 feet tall. That's even taller than some women I know. The middle part of the dude was so heavy that it took 3 of us to carry it up onto the bottom part. Sort of an hourglass figure don't you think?

In all.....no regrets in skipping class. Lectures, you can learn from books. Experiences like this, you will cherish forever.


Wednesday, February 23, 2005


A lot of people don't understand sarcasm. I wonder what so difficult to figure out that people are poking fun at you? Maybe its because sarcasm usually comes from your good friends. Most people don't expect strangers (or acquaintances) to joke around with them. But hey, I am Vincent, I joke around with everybody.

I am acting in a play this weekend. Its for this event called 'Malaysian Night' which showcases Malaysian culture to whitemen (intended audience) but its mostly the Malaysians who watch it. The play is about the legend of Mahsuri. If you are a Malaysian, and haven't heard of it, please go kill yourself.

Anyways there is this girl who is in charge of the costumes. Lets call her SnowWhite. Yesterday, she asked me :

SnowWhite : Hi, Vincent.

Vincent : Hello.

SnowWhite : Do you have a stripe shirt, black and white, like a prison uniform?

Vincent : Nope. Why you need it for?

SnowWhite : For one of the characters....do you know if Leman has it? I think I saw it before.

Vincent : Dunnoo...

(Leman walks in)

SnowWhite : Leman, do you have stripe shirt, black and white?

Leman : Nope. Its blue, not black. Why you want black and white? Like prison shirt issit?

SnowWhite : Yeah...cannot find

Leman : Ask Vincent la! He been to jail before what.

SnowWhite : HUH?!?! REALLY?!?! *eyes open big big*

Vincent : I don't have it anymore. They took away the shirt when they let me go. Bastards didn't let me keep it.

SnowWhite : You went to jail?!?!? WHY?

Vincent : Long time ago la..I was young. *puts a very sorry regretful face*

Leman : Yeah...he raped a school girl.

SnowWhite : *eyes open big big...looks at me in disgust*

(Leman...I know you are reading this..you spoilt the joke man. Theft, or drugs, I could live with, but this one.......cannot la. I got reputation to keep man.)

Vincent : NOLA!

SnowWhite : *phew*

And today, after rehearsals, I was walking out of the building with another actor dude. We never really talked before, and hence we made some small talk, "what are you studying, where you stay, bla bla bla." After all that intro crap :

Vincent : You know, you actually look damn familiar. You from SKL rite?

(SKL is the name of my secondary school)

Hamid : YEAH! How did you know?

Vincent : Cause........I am from SKL also.

Hamid : You are? I've never seen you before!

Vincent : Yeah, am your senior.

Hamid : *eyes open big big* Shit, you from SKL!?!? Are you sure?!?!

Vincent : *am I sure? sarcasm mode kicks in* I think so. Not too sure..

Hamid : You think so? *looks at me like I am some kinda dumbass*

Vincent : Like I said, I think so. Can't really remember.

Hamid : You think so?!?!?

*I can't stand it anymore*

Vincent : Nola. Joking la. Of course I am SURE I am from SKL.

Which also brings me to another point. When people talk to me and try to make fun of me, I hate it that they are scared that they might offend me. They then end their joke or their mockery with, "Eh, joking joking..." before I can even react to it. I hate that for 3 reasons:

1) If you are going to make fun of people, do it right. If you are worried about hurting people's feelings, then don't make the joke in the first place.

2) It insults my inteligence. It insinuates that I can't tell the difference between an insult and a joke.

3) I usually have a smart ass answer to turn the joke on you. By saying "Joking, joking.." before I can even open my mouth, you don't give me a chance to poke the fun back at you. It also diffuses the effect of smart-alec remarks I might have later on.

So, learn this well kids. If you see me, remember two things :

1) Never make a joke and cover it by say "Joking only ar." If you want to make fun of me, then wait for my reply and cover your face in embarassment after that. If your joke is good enough and I can't think of a responce, then you can laugh at me.

2) If you hear me say something stupid or incredulous beyond believe, then you must understand that I am making fun of you, and it is best you keep quiet in order to stop embarassing yourself any further. After all, I am Vincent, I never say stupid things without meaning it.


Tuesday, February 22, 2005

where is the passion?

I met a bloke the other day who came to the UK for an interview. The dude is sponsored by JPA to study medicine. He was saying how he was studying in UTP (Universiti Teknologi Petronas) for a couple of months while waiting for the results of his JPA application - studying Mechanical Engineering.

Now, what's a guy who wanted to do medicine studying mechanical engineering for? That's not the only case actually. I have heard of many such things. I don't know much about how the education system works back home, but I think, you submit your application to the unis stating the course of your choice. If there isn't a place for you, or if they think you suck, then they just throw you into another course.

It happens a lot, and a lot of students are forced to study something that they have no interest in. Its not really their fault, a degree is better than none at all. Hence, they just study whatever it is they were offered. That's where the flaw comes in.

A lot of people I know are studying courses which they probably have no interest in at all. A lot of people, in the final year, are wondering why they did such and such a course. Studying a subject for 3 years is no fun if you never really liked it anyway. And when there is no fun in it, you either do badly in it, or you excel, but like a lifeless zombie.

Its nobody's fault but their own if they chose a course they never really liked, and end up struggling with it, but somethings really wrong with the system if people are forced to study something which they have got no passion for. The end results are zombies who hold a degree but end up sulking on the job because they hate every single minute of it.

On a personal term, when people ask me for advice, I tell them to stay the fuck away from engineering unless they really really want to do it. There has to be a certain passion, or interest in the field. My mum recently told me that she always knew I would be a scientist or engineer or something like that. When I was a small kid, I used to pick up crap from the road side and play with it. I would pick up a cigarette butt (disgusting, I know!) tear it open and burn it, only to figure that its different and wont burn.

When I grew older, I dismantled things around the house to figure out how they work. I took apart a table fan, I made a hot air balloon (failed miserably), and ripped open an old car battery before. By Form 2, I knew that I wanted to be an engineer. In short, I was a science nerd since I was a kid.

I do not expect many people to have that same inquisitive passion from an early age, but some sort of desire helps. I hate studying. This marks the 16th year studying. I am sick of it. I would have quit and graduated early last year, if not for my love of what I am doing. Everytime I get pissed offed at studying, I remind myself again why I wanted to be an engineer in the first place.
Nowadays, people study stuffs for the fun of studying. It sucks in Malaysia because everything is education orientated. Immediately after school, you go to college, do a pre-u and then go on to uni. Most kids have no idea what they want to do or want to study. Most of the time, its the parents that decide it. I like the system here in the UK. Its extremely common for a student to take a gap year after school or (usually) after A-Levels. They take a year out, commonly travel to poorer parts of the world and help out in the community. Either that or they do stuffs like social work. It helps the kids figure out what they want in life, and where their passion lies.

So really........if you can't decide what you want to do, then chill, figure out what you love and then only decide what you want to study. On the other hand, if you already decided, but are forced to study something else, my condolences then. I had never fancied the education system in Malaysia. For as long as I can remember, moonbats have been sitting in the minister's post - no difference 20 years ago, no difference 10 years ago, and no difference now.


Monday, February 21, 2005

what would you do?

Imagine, you have a bunch of kids, and one fine day, you hear them arguing over a certain matter. None of them are right, none of them have knowledge in anything at all, they just argue cause that's what kids do best.

Huey : The sky is blue cause God painted it blue.
Duey : No no....My father said sky is blue cause of reflection from the sea.
Louie : Cannot! Sea is not blue also. Sky is blue cause its magic.

What would you do when you encounter a bunch of kids fighting like that? Some people would choose to correct them, but I THINK majority of the people would leave them to be. I would.

Question is, if you hear a bunch of adults arguing about something deep, like world economy, and everything that is coming out of their mouths is uter bullshit, would you correct them, or just laugh to yourself?

Me, I believe in equality. If I didn't correct the kids, it was because they were kids. If I didn't correct the adults, its because they are buttockers and I should let them be.


Friday, February 18, 2005

a woman with balls

Strictly on a Asian level here, most Asian girls I know would never chase a guy they like. They would flirt, sometimes stupidly, and do all sorts of stupid things to gain that guy's attention, but would always stop short of telling the guy how they feel, or asking him out on a date.

The 3 most common excuses :

1) Lose my dignity.
2) Will make me look cheap.
3) People won't respect me.

Mostly, they try to socialise in the same group as the person that they like. Go clubbing, try to dance in a group or something. Or work in some kinda societies thingy together. Social work, religious fellowship, stuffs like that. But I have never, NEVER seen an Asian woman, openly walk up to a cute guy and ask for his number.

Ok...I hear people screaming all over the place now. Women do pick up men. Yeah? How? When? Bars do not count - the setting encourages it anyway. Everybody goes to clubs expecting to be picked up anyway. Plus, alcohol can make you do wonders. Any place, or any activity which encourages chatting does not count either. You want a true measure of balls? Read on...

She had been noticing him for 2 weeks now. He comes into lectures, alone, always punctual. He sits somewhere in the middle row, smack in the middle of the screen in front. She watches as he unzips his bag, takes out his pencilbox, and removes a mechanical pencil. This guy - always writes with a pencil, never with a pen. Oh....he's left handed too, like me, she thinks.

She stares at his style, he fidgets in his seat a lot. He turns around, only to catch the stare in his eyes. She tries to flash a weak smile, but he had already turned his head. I shall dress nicer next week, she thinks. And dress she does, and they continue their little cat and mouse game.

This week, she is in luck. He gets on to the bus, and sees her already seated. There are no empty seats, except for the one next to her. He takes it like it is the most natural thing in the world. The silence would akward if they were not strangers.

They walk to the lecture hall together, only she walks ahead and he walks behind. She opens the first door, and leaves it open for him. Thank you, he says. She smiles. He walks ahead, and opens the next door for her. Thank you, she says. He smiles. As with the bus, the lecture hall leaves only two empty seats.

She passes him the lecture notes, and tries to conjure up her most provocative smile. Thank you, he says again. She hopes she wore enough perfurme today. He whips out his same old black pencil and starts writting again. When all is done, he starts packing up, ready to leave.

She delays. She hessitates. She contemplates. Then, without fear, without worrying whether she is pretty enough, or smart enough, she says :

"Hi....I'm Sharon"
"Oh...I'm Tom"
"I was wondering.........would you like to..........................................."

I stared from afar, never really grasping the situation. I observed as she smiled and nodded at him. I sniggered as she stammered with her question, trying to be brave, trying to say what she wanted to say.

I smiled to myself as I walked out of that place. She suddenly became the most attractive woman in that room. That lucky bastard, I thought, its not everyday you meet a woman with balls......


Thursday, February 17, 2005

racial hoo-hah

*if you are in the mood to indulge in some reading material, start here, and at the bottom of that article, read the offsprings that lead from it, otherwise, don't bother and just read my crap*

Over the last week or so, there has been this racial issue hot on the topic of many bloggers. I considered long and hard whether or not to join in the debate. Actually, it was not even a debate in the first place. It was, I think, quite a senseless argument. I pondered the points, and agreed with most of the points.......on both sides.

Now, you ask, how can one agree with everybody's points? Well, only if they are true and blindingly obvious. Stereotypes exist for a reason - they are true. The problem with stereotypes is, one moron down the road tends to jump up and scream ,"Hey! I am not like that!". Well, yes, I know you are not like that. It was a fucking generalisation. If you are not like that, that doesn't mean my generalisation was wrong anyway.

Back to the whole hoo-hah. Yes, I know what TV Smith said was true. In the generalisation sense, of course. I then sat and thought long and hard about it. But why did he have to publish such an article, which would understandably piss people off? Freedom of speech? Was he wrong to ever write that and put it on a public domain knowing that people would react angrily?

Of all people, I advocate speaking your mind out. If you feel something, say it. There is though, a small difference between speaking your mind, and picking a fight. Its like having a good friend who has annoying little habits. Theres a difference between chiding him of his bad habits and sitting him down and scolding him, mocking his habits. Or, like having an ugly friend who can't score with chicks. You might be thinking, "Dude, you can't score cause you're actually uglier than my toilet brush." But would you say it to him?

And so for that reason......everybody has to figure out when to open their mouths, and when to shut it. Everybody has heard of the stereotypes. Everybody knows that the Malays are lazy, the Chinese greedy, and the Indians sly (orang asli - too insignificant to be mentioned). A Malaysian who has not heard of this generalisation clearly has not stayed in Malaysia. So then, is there a need to further shove that fact down people's face? Your friend from earlier probably knew he was ugly - he found out from his bathroom mirror that his face is covered in zits and his chin deformed, but do you need to still need remind him of it?

Its also one thing telling your friend that he is ugly. It might be acceptable once. But how many times? You tell him he is ugly, you walk away, only to return 5 minutes later. You whisper in his left ear, "You are ugly." You leave, come back, and whisper in the right ear, "You are ugly." You leave, and shout from far, "Dude you are damn ugly!" Sure, you are speaking the truth, but how long before your friend gives you a slap in the face and ceases to be your friend anymore? No, this is not freedom of speech. This is pure and simply, picking a fight.

This brings me to the second part of my take on all this. The replies came from Malays. The general consensus was that, its true, there are daughter bangers, bla di di bla bla, but not all (Doh! obviously..), yada yada. What actually interest me was the fact that most these dudes (if not all) are educated people who are extremely pissed with the fact that they other Malays are giving them a bad name. Before writting this post, I read this off Petaling Street.

A Malay calling other Malays "Melayu Bodoh"?
A Chinese calling other Chinese "Inconsiderate Bastards"?

Racism has weird effects, does it not? Suddenly people have gone about insulting their own kind? What's this all about? Actually, I do that all the time. Most of us Chinese do. Who makes fun of AhBengs the most? Chinese. We consider those damn AhBengs to be the scum of the society, those same buggers that give us a bad name, walking around with blonde hair, white t-shirt on the inside, shirt on the outside, unbuttoned. Looks like some kinda uneducated hooligan. That's why we hate them so much, that's why I give them so much stick.

I bet its the same everywhere in the world. Because people tend to stereotype according to a person's race, a new sort of discrimination is born. People of the same race get pissed off with each other. The hardworking Malays get pissed offed with the lower class dudes for making people get the impression that Malays are lazy. I am not going to be politically correct by giving you examples of each race, you figure that out yourself. But now, look at it the other way, the lower class dudes then get pissed off with the upper class guys. Stuck up, pretentious, holier-than-thou. A perfectly round vicious circle is formed.

Is all that shit true? So....let's see what we have covered :

1) We make fun of races except our own, and stereotype other races, insulting them for their bad points.
2) But we also make fun of castes within our own race. We hate them either because they give us a bad name, or because they are stuck up and try to be of higher class.

Cool......What does that tell you?

In the famous words of Sir Alex Ferguson to a bunch journalists : "Yous are all fucking idiots."

This was never about race. You made it an issue about race. If it was about race, then a person would NEVER critisise his own race. It is about people, rational people rightly mocking and critisizing other people in the society based on their attitudes. The lazy fuckers. The daughter bangers. The unscrupulous bastards. The coniving snakes. Its not about race, and should not be about race. You guys only chose to make it such.

Racism? I am fucking sick of that word.


Wednesday, February 16, 2005


And so.........the aftermath of Valentine's Day. Today, everybody goes around asking everybody else, 'How was it, what did you do, what did you get?'

It was no different with me. Recall an earlier lesson in life that I taught you guys? A lot of people asked me :

People : What did you do?

Vincent : I stayed home and did work.....

People : Why didn't you asked someone out?

Vincent : Expensive.....no money..

People : .........yeah...thats truee..

It was no different in my hostel dining room...

I eavesdropped on a bunch of girls' conversation. There was one particular lion pretender, Rabbit who was happily telling the rest of her single friends :

Rabbit : Oh...I got 3 cards in the post yesterday.

Pie : 3!! Woww...who gave you?

Rabbit : But one was from my good friend. The other two were anonymous though....I dunno who sent them.

Manny : Waaahhh.........got so many admirers? I don't have a single card..




Bullshit detector went off in my head.

Look here, cunt. Lying is bad. Lying to make your friends jealous of you is even worse.

Firstly, you eat carrots and overcooked cows, and crap more than me. You suck. No guy in the right sense of mind would fall for you. Its not a stalker anyway. Stalkers stalk fit chune chicks, not aneroxic rabbits.

But lets just imagine for a second.......love is blind, and male lion pretenders are weird anyway. What the fuck do you think this is? Primary school? Guys like recognition for their work. If they sent you a fucking card, they want you to know that they sent the fucking card. Nobody sends anonymous cards, not as this age. Nobody sends you cards just to make you feel good. If a guy sent you a Valentine's Day card, its because they wanna fuck you, and he would be stupid guy if he didn't leave his name. Cause then, how would you know who to fuck?

Ok, lets give her the benefit of the doubt and say that she did receive those two anonymous Valentine's Day cards. I can only think of two possibilities.

1) Her mum, anticipating that Rabbit would feel sad, sent one of those cards. After all which mother wants to see her daughter sad and down? True what they say.........a mother's love is unconditional.

2) She sent the other card to herself one night when she was depressed. After sending the card, she drank loads of tequila and passed out, forgetting everything that ever happened.

Ok.............I retract my words. Maybe she did get those 2 anonymous cards..You'll never know. Those lion pretenders are seriously damn weird. Check out this commentary from the Star.

On a totally unrelated issue, I looked at friendster the other day and found that one of my good friends from school hooked up with this fucking hot chick. This guy was literally a woman-repellant in school, we at one point even thought he was gay and called him a loser. He now officially has the chunnest girlfriend among all my friends.

Lesson of the day : Friendster teaches you respect.


Tuesday, February 15, 2005

lovely day

Last night, Kay asked me :

Kay : Do you hate Valentine's Day?

Vincent : No, why?

Kay : Was just wondering whether you were one of those people who actively hate it.

Vincent : Hate? What's there to hate? I love it.

Kay : I bet you do.

Vincent : Yeah. I love little kids, stupid people and support animal rights.

Kay : Hmmmm.

Vincent : Yeah. I am a very peaceful person. The other day, I saw an earthworm on the road after the rain. I stopped my bike, dug a small hole and put the little fella back in.

Kay : Too free ar?

Vincent : Aaah....what is two minutes of my time if it would save the life of one of God's magnificent creatures?

Kay : Fuck off la.........

But seriously, what's not to like about it Valentine's Day? Its damn great if you are a business man, exploiting child labour and selling big fluffy bears. Its damn great if you are a florist. Its damn great if you and your partner are sensible people. I have been reading loads of blogs over the last few days that have been unfairly critisizing Valentine's Day.

Above all, its a day of love. What can be so bad about a day where people show more love towards each other? Sure, you are supposed to love the person everyday, but is it wrong to love somebody MORE on the day? When else do you walk around shopping malls and see little red hearts everywhere? Does it not make you feel nice? If the Americans had dropped little red paper hearts and pink flowers all over Afghanistan, instead of their nasty ass bombs, maybe Osama wouldn't be such an angry person.

Ok, sorry for all the crap...seriously now.

I love it cause its a day where you get to see stupid people and mock them incessantly. Its a day when people do the stupidest things and say the stupidest jokes. When else in the year would people be willing to pay 20 bucks for a stalk of flower? I won't even bother going through all the stupid acts that people do. Instead, I've compiled a list of stupid things that people have said to me throughout the years.

Back when I was in school, some moron chirpily greeting me in the morning :

Moron : Hey Vince, happy VD!

Vincent : VD? Happy my ass la..

Moron : I know you got no chick...but don't need to get so pissed..

Vincent : Chick or no chick...I don't think VD is something to be happy about.

*VD = venereal disease, another example why sex education is important among kids*

As a principle, I MUST do something fun on Friday nights. Since I started uni, the only times I stayed home on Friday was to play cards with friends or hang out with them in my room. The only time I study on a Friday night is if I have exams the following week. 2 years ago, Valentine's Day fell on a Friday.

Anyways, the plan was to go watch a movie with a couple of friends. Nothing different from what I would do on any other Friday night. That day, the dining room in the hostel was almost deserted. Most people had gone out. Seeing the situation, peer pressure kicked into a lot of people. They felt they HAD to go out or else they would be called losers. So, suddenly, more and more people wanted to join us. From the 3 of us, suddenly there were 8 of us. 8 guys went as a bunch to watch Daredevil. Its actually better to sit home and surf porn than to go and watch a fucking movie with 7 other guys on Valentine's Day. I mean...they could have just stayed home...

Some dudes vowed that they would never do it again. (no shits??) Last year, I think it fell on a Saturday. On Saturday nights, I used to sit at home in front of the TV all night long. There's this cool game show called 'A Question of Sport' followed later on by 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire?' and then after there's 'CSI' and then 'Match of the Day' (football highlights). So, Saturday was usually a day I stayed home and watched TV.

My housemate was preparing to go out with his girlfriend. On his way out, he asked me:

Housemate : What are you going to do tonight?

Vincent :Stay home and watch TV.

Housemate : Wah! You damn sad man...

Vincent : Really? What did you do last year? Watched Daredevil or something, did you?

*There would be no more words out of his mouth after that*

Then there's the popular case, among girls. There's so many of such stories, I can't really remember who I had this conversation with last year :

Girl : The bunch of us went out for dinner.

Vincent : For what?

Girl : For fun la.

Vincent : You all too much money ar? Of all days choose this day to go out for dinner. You do know that all the menu's are doubly priced?

Girl : Yeah, but we just wanted to.

Vincent : Oh. I get it....its to celebrate being single rite?

Girl : No laa..

Vincent : Yes, yes it is! Its a defiance. You guys can't get dates, so you stare into the eyes of defiance.

Girl : Nola......

Vincent : And then you guys probably made a pact to remain single friends...

Girl : Nolaa.............

Vincent : Then why on earth did you guys pay 20 pounds for a meal which usually costs 10 pounds?

Girl : Felt like it.

Vincent : Tell you what. Next year, the bunch of you should pay me, I'll buy KFC for you all.

There are a shit load of other stories........but I just realised how bloody long this post is. So, yeah, hope you all had a lovely Valentine's Day..


Monday, February 14, 2005


Blogger improved their commenting system. Now, you don't need a blogger acount to leave a comment. I am changing cause Haloscan deletes all the old comments.

I am going to try out this commenting system for a few days.....and see if I like it. Let me know what you think.


last kiss

Let me tell you a story....a long story.........

I wrote it a long time ago, when I was in Form 5. Its not the best piece of literature that I have ever written, but it was the first. Since I first wrote it, I have only editted and changed bits of it just once, the year after that when I entered it for a competition organised in college. (I won 3rd place, though it was due to the lack of quality competition - a lot of AhBengs in my college)

Over the last few years, I have contemplated re-writting it, but never did. I guess I will leave it. It reminds me of happy stuffs (although the story isn't really happy). I will never forget the inspiration behind the story as well. So here......a story of love, through the eyes of a stupid 16 year old kid...

Happy Valentines Day everybody.

Nothing could describe my feelings that night. The pain. The sorrow. The pure anguish of just thinking about it tortured my already tormented soul even more. The moon's golden rays bathed my fair skin as the waves rolled up kissing my toes with every touch. The soft, wet sand crumbled under my weight, pulling me under with every step I took. I could literally see and hear the joyous activities going on in the cruise ship not far of the coastline. Couples dancing, new loves found.

As I walked on further the sight of young lovers romancing under the towering coconut trees pushed me closer to the edge. I knew that I could not take it any longer. The memories were flooding my mind, clouding my judgment. It was too hot for me to handle. I turned around and started walking away. My footprints behind me were gone, washed away by the waves climbing up the shore ever so often. I walked a little more, turned round, and discovered once again that my footprints were gone. Washed away once again by the calmness of the waves. How I wished that those painful memories could be wiped out by such serenity. But that was never going to happen. Maybe God wanted to punish me for my mistakes. I don't know.

All I wanted to do now was to scream as loudly as I could until my lungs were gasping for air. I wanted to let go all my feelings that were bottled up inside me. Not only bottled up, but also sealed up tight. My mind was like a pressure cooker, waiting to release all the steam that was gathering up inside of me. Like a dormant volcano awaking from its slumber, I released it all. Everything. All the unhappiness. All my worries. All my fears. All momentarily gone in one giant release of frustration. I received cold stares from the public because of that moment of mild insanity. But I didn't care. Nobody would understand. I never felt better in a long, long time. Not since the time when I was with her.

But of course, that was only momentarily. It would have been a marvel if I could put such a black memory behind me so easily. I ran. For no reason, I started running. Maybe running away from my past, I didn't know where to go. Whatever it was, my destination wasn't a very good idea. It was like running to Hell to escape from the Devil.

The sound waves from the radio were practically bouncing off my ears, as I lay lifeless and dispirited on my bed. My room, my domain which was once a place I could drown my sorrows in was no longer my sanctuary from the harsh realities of lives. It was now a no man's land, a place where bad memories flooded my mind every single minute of the day. Squashed up bits and pieces of tissue paper drenched with tears were spilling out from the already full wastepaper basket by my side. An almost empty tissue box was at my disposal, ready to be used. But I had stopped using it a long time ago. There simply were no more tears left in my dried up eyes which now resembled that of a goldfish. I had cried bucket loads of it but they would keep coming.

Then I felt it again. My eyes were getting watery again as the tears started to well up in my eyes again. My emotions got the better of me again as I suffered from yet another flashback. Why was this happening? Why can't I forget about it? Why can't I put it behind me? This was very unlike me. I used to know myself as somebody who could bury the bitterness of the past and concentrate on the future. I remember those carefree days. Days where I took everything for granted never turning round to look back. I missed the days where I was able to tell everybody that they shouldn't worry too much about life but to go on and lead it ordinarily. Gone were those days.

My mind was that of a broken video player. It rewinded automatically even when told not to do so. I closed my eyes again as someone seemed to press the play button somewhere in my mind. The pitch-black images that formed when I had closed my eyes had magically transformed into a film show. Not any ordinary film show, this one had colour, the proper sound and visual effects and most importantly has it seemingly realistic yet heartbreaking storyline.

It is funny how the pettiest of things can lead to such massive effects. For instance WW1 was started just because some fool killed somebody else. It was petty but it was the straw that broke the camel's back. In this case there were two camels, and we broke each other’s backs. The sad and disturbing fact was that I could have adverted the disaster had I kept my mouth shut.

We were in my room doing something I couldn't really be bothered to remember. Then we got bored and started talking about ourselves, our bittersweet relationship. I remember asking her to point out some of my bad habits so that I could improve on it. It was a failed gamble as she named it one by one by one... I could and should have held my tongue. They were all true. Very, very true indeed. I could have accepted the fact that I was wrong but my gargantuan ego told me that it wasn't going to happen. I fought back. We started a heated debate again. It was kind of how our relationship had been all this while - like a debate, meaningful but quarrelsome. She ran out of my room and stormed down the stairs. I gave chase. I slipped and went tumbling down the stairs. I didn't remember anything after that because I passed out. But I do remember crashing into her while I was falling.

Somehow there seemed to be a blank in the story there. I could scarcely remember what happened after regaining consciousness. While my mind was still trying to playing back the scenario, a tune came on the radio. A strong feeling of nostalgia and deja vu clouded my senses yet again as it reminded me of her and the missing link in the story. The singer was out on a date with his girlfriend when they met an accident. He survived and although she died, it was not before they did something lovely together. Something that we did too. Never till the day I die would I ever forget the lyrics to that song:

When I woke up the rain was pourin down.
There were people standin all around.
Something warm flowing through my eyes.
But somehow I found my baby that night.
I lifted her head, she looked at me and said.
"Hold me darling, just a little while."
I held her close, I kissed her our last kiss.
I found the love that I knew I had missed.
Well now she's gone.
Even though I hold her tight.
I lost my love, my life, that night.

Where, oh where, can my baby be?
The Lord took her away from me.
She's gone to heaven, so I've got to be good.
So I can see my baby when I leave this world.

The pain of having a loved one to die in your hands is unthinkable. Touching, romantic, yet unthinkable. No other human being would have taken my shoes. It felt as though someone was cutting a hole in my chest and ripping my heart out to watch it beat, piercing a thousand needles through it sadistically. But I do know that it was worth it. I do know that I would go through all those torments and suffering just to have just one more moment with her. I would replay the whole thing all over again just to have that one last moment. The moment that I would cherish for all eternity. Even if it meant that it was going to be our last kiss...

**Shame on you if you dunno that song**


Sunday, February 13, 2005

interesting analogy

I just came home from George's place. Its 6am in the morning. We had a Chinese New Year dinner (again) and hours of playing bridge. Its actually more fun to play bridge than chor dai dee. Less luck required. More skill.

Anyways....random conversation :

Vincent : No need chick wan la....just go home and sleep...even better.

Morpheous : Isn't it better to sleep WITH a chick?

Vincent : Oh...no no no no...I don't believe in pre-marital sex.

Kay : Hmmm....yeah. Just like Britney Spears.

Vincent : Exactly!

Morpheous : My friend KK says...........

Vincent : He's the guy who believes in 'quantity, not quality' rite?

Morpheous : Yeah. He says..'you test drive cars, don't you?'

Kay : And cars....you throw after 5 years. This one you keep for your life.

Vincent : Aaahhhh.........I am enlightened.


Friday, February 11, 2005


In a lecture hall today.......

Lecturer : So, for this project, you would have to get into groups of 5. Please find your own group members and e-mail me their details by 3 weeks time.

After the lecture..

Timmy : Hi....scuse me...Are you doing this module as an optional subject?

Chick : Yeah. I don't really know anybody in this lecture.

Timmy : Yeah...I am doing this as an option as well...don't really know anybody. Shall we form a group?

Chick : Ok...we still need to find more people.

Vincent stops eavesdropping and comes into the scene...

Vincent : Hey dude! What's up?

Timmy : Oh...I didn't know you were doing this subject as well.

Vincent : What the fuck are you talking about? Its compulsory for all of us, isn't it? Are you going to form a group with the rest of us.....or you ditching us?

Chick : ......

Vincent : Oh hi there...I didn't catch your name...would you like to join our group?

Chick : Oh...er....er..I am going to miss the bus. We'll discuss it next week...

Chick leaves....

Timmy : You're quite a fucker, did you know?

Vincent : Yeahh.....sort of already knew that...thanks...by the way...she was quite a chick I reckon.

Timmy : Fuck off...


Thursday, February 10, 2005

one meal

I only have 15 minutes...so a quick post.

So far today, I've had 4 meals. 4 full meals. By the time I sleep, that figure should rise to 6.

I woke up and ate half a pizza leftover from the previous night.

Then, I was supposed to meet my friend in the city for dimsum lunch, only that he said he would be there around 2. So, I had lunch in my hostel, a full sandwich.

Then had a full dim sum lunch.

Reservation for dinner tonight is only at 8.45pm cause, well its CNY day, and its probably the best chinese restaurant - so fully booked. Anticipating the late dinner, I just had couple of fried chicken for hostel dinner.

Add those two with the probable supper after the beer tonight....that would be a cool total of 6 meals in about 18 hours.

Actually, 6 is an ambiguous figure. I argue....I only had one meal today. It started when I woke up, and ends when I sleep. Come to think of it....all of us Malaysians tend to have only one meal a day at times.......


Wednesday, February 09, 2005

its a HAPPY new year

Over the last couple of weeks, I have read countless number of blogs, and heard from countless number of people how they don't see the fuss behind celebrating Chinese New Year. Some say that seeing relatives whom they see once a year really isn't a big deal.

I guess, you will only really miss it when you are away from home, away from your family. I never get homesick, even when I first came here to study. If there is a time where I ever get close to missing home, its this time of the year.

My dad's family is pretty huge. He has 10 siblings in all. I have 19 cousins. Its not as if I am damn close to any of them, or my uncles and aunties for that matter. Its not as if I am dying to see all of them, so that they can ask me nonsensical questions. I do enjoy talking to a few of them, but that's it. So, why the fuck have my dreams for the past two nights been about talking to them and playing mahjong with my cousins? Why the fuck have I had dreams about bringing my chick (who has no face, by the way) home to meet them for family interrogation?

I shall miss the great food. Chinese New Year has always been about good food. My grandma was a damn bloody good cook. After she got Alzheimers, my aunties took over, and they are pretty darn good as well. We never ate in restaurants. It was always home cooked food, and expensive stuffs too.

Tonight, I shall go out with my friends to feast on some crabs, prawns and lobster in Nottingham's best chinese restaurant. Somehow, it won't taste as good as my grandma's fried chicken wings, which she would use old black newspapers to drain the oil.

I shall miss the the fireworks. Before they were banned, my uncle would bring a whole box of fireworks and us kids would play with it endlessly after the reunion dinner. Then, around midnight the adults would hang a 30 foot long firecracker from the top of my grandma's pre-war shoplot. Everybody would cross the street to hear the beautiful sounds of crackers popping and watch the red bits of paper fly about, lining the floor below with a fluffy red carpet.

Tonight, I shall burst some fireworks with my friends. We are going to buy a box of those fireworks which burst into the sky leaving a flowery pattern. Somehow, they won't explode as loudly as the pop-pops that came wrapped in a bag of sawdust.

I shall miss the gambling. Grandma taught most of us how to play cards from a young age. I watched the adults as the played mahjong, and could myself play when I was just 6. When us kids grew up, we opened our own mahjong tables. Police looking for money should raid our house during Chinese New Year. 4 mahjong tables, 1 card table (blackjack or poker), and 1 dice table (its a boring game..just throwing dice), really do have the makings of a gambling den.

Tonight, I shall play some chor tai tee with my friends. We never play for money, but the company is good and the beer - free flow. We shall chat over the card game, and make jokes. Somehow, though, I shall miss the irritating cackling of those mahjong tiles. Somehow, my aunties' nosy questions would sound nicer than the jokes that we will share tonight.

I shall miss my mum and dad. My brother and sister. Somehow, though, I always get through it and enjoy the company of my wonderful friends.

*Its still me alright.......I didn't pay some homesick girl to guest blog here*
*Superbowl post continue tomorrow....or when I am free to draw more diagrams*


Tuesday, February 08, 2005

'football' for dummies, part 1

*American football......not football as we know it..*

Ok...still in the Superbowl kinda mood. I figured, most people don't know how to play the game, and don't really know what the game is all about. So, after enlightening myself by the virtue of sitting through a 4 hour piece of drab, I am going to teach you all I know about this weird game the Yanks call 'football'.

Now, two general categories of people play this game. Please refer to FIGURE 1 above. Figure 1a shows the typical black dude. Big nose, red red lips. Another important criteria - he must be bald. All black dudes who play this 'football' MUST be bald. Its the rule of the game. The black guys form the majority of football players. In fact, the losing team last night, Philedelphia Eagles had only one white guy on the team.

Figure 1b shows the typical white guy. Nothing special, he has the usual defining features that every white guy has. Another rule for the white guy, he MUST put some face paint under his eyes, as illustrated in the above picture. Its because he doesn't look as scary as the black guy. In an attempt to do so, black face paint is the way to go.

Please bear in mind that in the same team, they have two seperate teams. The offensive team and the defensive team. They take turns to come onto the pitch, depending on whether their team is attacking or defending. More on that later.

Now that you are clear on the two types of players, we can generally split them up into 2 more sub-categories. The fat asses and the small guys. I shall now explain their roles in the game. I reckon there are 3 positions a player can play in. In attacking play, one dude acts as the quaterback, and another 2 dudes act as the receiver. Quaterback has to throw the ball to the receiver. The others are kelefehs. Their only job is to bulldoze their opponents so that they don't get to the quaterback or the receiver. In defensive play, all the players are bulldozers. I call bulldozers kelefehs cause they seldom ever touch the ball.

Due to the above, the players in the different positions need to be of different physical attributes. The quaterback can be either huge or small, doesn't make a difference, he only needs to throw the ball. The receiver, though, must be someone who can run fast. Really fast. For that to happen, he is usually quite 'small'. Its a known fact, elephants can't really run. An ideal receiver should look something like that :

Now, the kelefehs, they are the jocks that you hear people making fun off in movies. Something like Moose in Archie's comics. Big. Fat. Stupid. Cause you have to have those three attributes to be a sucessful kelefeh. These guys do nothing besides charge people down and stop them from doing anything. As you can see, these guys are only in the team cause they are big and can run a bit. They must also have a scary face. You can see them doing this a lot :

*Tomorrow - how to play the game*


Sunday, February 06, 2005

american sports

*Updated after the game*

Superbowl XXXIX is on tv tonight. For the first time in my life, I am going to attempt to watch American Football.

Now, I consider myself a huge sports fan. I watch anything and everything sports related. From the popular football to the boring cricket and weird lacrosse. Rugby, handball, lawn bowls, fencing, you name it, I've watched it. However, there is this weird thing about American sports that I don't get.

Firstly, these dudes try to be different. The whole world plays rugby, but these guys play 'football'. Don't even get me started on why its called football when its a game that they play with their hands. The whole world also plays cricket, but they play baseball. (the Japs are in the same group here). Never mind that, most games, you can figure out the rules by watching, but I could never figure out American football although I've watched it on ESPN endlessly.

Another thing with American sports is that there is a shit load of commercials in between. In every other sport, like football (the real one) commercials only come on during half time, when the players take a break. American sports however, have a time-out system where the coaches can call to chat with their players. This happens a lot near the end of the game, usually where tension is high. As a sports fan, its moments like these which are the most appealing.

It can actually be said that these time-outs and rules were introduced for the sole purpose of TV rights. The NBA, for example plays 4 quaters, compared to international basketball rules where the game is split into 2 halves.

*don't bitch about the arguments which are all over the place and not arranged properly.....I got loads of shits to do...*

Ok...its 3.30am. The game just ended. I'll come up with a cool article about this tomorrow. I MAY have changed my mind a bit. Just a bit. The ending was fun. But tooo many commercials. A start stop game is boring. There is, however, something that all sports competitions around the world should learn from those Yanks. The inclusion of a very talented group of individuals below:



Friday, February 04, 2005

ahbeng syndrome

Why do people diss ahbengs so much?

Firstly, how do you categorise an ahbeng? I dunno actually. The stereotypes are good. Chinese. Male. Blonde hair. Can't speak English. However, some people do have the Chinaman look that automatically qualifies them for that honourable title. I won't even bother trying to describe it, cause I can't.

I was blog hopping just now when I found a blog written by an ahbeng. Horrible english and everything. Also had a very ahbeng face on his profile picture. I never knew that ahbengs knew about blogs. I wonder who taught them. I won't post his URL here, cause well, its not right. Its his page, I just make fun of it and never return there again. However, I did show a few friends who I feel needed a laugh.

Here's one particularly interesting conversation that followed :
(don't bitch about the punctuations or spelling. I copied it straight from MSN)

Vincent: so....what do u think?

Lillian: damn ah beng

Vincent: good engerish hor? his england is very good….

Lillian: ahahahhaha….maybe he just tried to be funny

Vincent: i dont think his is funnying........

Lillian: you saw his face on the profile page?

Vincent: yeah…ahahaha….i expected blonde hair. If got blonde hair, I’ll sure ask him for some VCDs already.

Lillian: hahahahahahahaahhahaahhaaha

Vincent: I dunno what u are laughing about so much…u also look like ahlian

Lillian: SHIT LAR U…ME?!

Vincent: yeah your hair like ahlian…got blonde bits

Lillian: now dont have already…u mean i used to look like ahlian?

Vincent: yeah…but don’t worry…Ipoh ppl is like that wan…its ok…hahahahaahahahaha

Lillian: WHAT?!!!!!!

Vincent: thats what we call STOWNS…Small Towners….orang kampung...hahahaa...KL ppl basically make fun of ppl from everywhere else…


Vincent: even worse…all chinaman there

Lillian: this is not funny, k…i am so not ahlian!!!

Vincent: oh don’t worry....its not just you..ahlians usually never think they are one…they need ppl to tell them wan

Lillian: urgggh…now i really hope u get an ahlian as gf

Vincent: oh don’t worry....i will kill myself before i get an ahlian

Lillian: we'll see

Vincent: i will personally give u the knife…i got 4 camping knives…which one u want also i will give u

Lillian: i hope u wont have to eat the humble pie

Vincent: there are somethings…icant say for sure but there are somethings which i can guarantee. This is one of the rare occasions which i can guarantee stuffs

Lillian: good good…i'm going to bed…dont ever call me ahlian! and don’t you are write this in ur blog…or i will personally kill you

Vincent: aaaaaaah…that is a very dangerous thing to challenge me..haahah…

So yeah. If you find me dead tomorrow, it cause I was murdered by an ahlian. By the way, its not a really good idea to challenge me stuffs like that.


Thursday, February 03, 2005

uses of a condom

*This is a continuation of yesterday's post*

Besides the obvious, condoms actually have many uses. Trust kids to explore those uses.

I brought the pack of Durex to school the next day to show my friends. I still remember, it was a two-pack Durex, extra-sensitive. After examining those condoms throughly, and 'learning' all we wanted to learn, we then decided to have a bit of fun with them. We did however have problems guessing what the 'oily disgusting stuffs' was for. I can't believe we were that stupid.

The first one was dealt with in predictable fashion. As most of you guessed in yesterday's comments section, we first used it as a baloon. Another session of lat-tali-lat-tali-tam-pom to decide who would blow up the condom. Can't remember who did it, but sure as hell wasn't me. I remember poking fun at the guy for giving a blowjob to a condom.

Didn't blow it real big, we were afraid it would burst, and we wanted more fun with it. Tied it up and went around showing it to the girls. I don't think they were pleased. Stupid boys. Next, we let go the air and filled it with water. And what good is a water baloon condom if it is not used? Since it was still schooling hours, we couldn't throw it at someone, so, during recess time, we let it drop from the 1st floor. (People from my school will know the location - dropped it from the old library and it landed outside the staff room door)

Needless to say, we ran as fast as our legs could take us as soon as we dropped the water-condom, laughing as hard as a pack of hyenas. We were small, but we had balls. Big ones too. Never did find out what happened. Would have been fun to see the face of the first teacher to walk out of the staff room only to find the floor wet and a torn condom greeting her.

The other condom, we found more use for. During the break time, Joshua was complaining that his watch was old and the leather strap was tearing. It wasn't even water-resistant, he complained. When class restarted after that, he fell asleep when the teacher was teaching in the front. He had removed the watch from his wrist and left it on the table. Someone took it and passed it to me. It was initially meant to be a hiding prank. We always took people's stuffs and hid it to piss them off.

This time, I had other ideas. I unrolled the remaining condom and put his watch inside. In doing that, I also realised what the oily stuffs on the condom was for. The watch slipped in with ease, and I tied a dead knot, sealing the watch inside. I passed it back to Pete who was sitting next to him. Pete then wrote a note, "Hey man, now your watch is water-proof" and put it back on Joshua's desk along with the watch-in-condom.

Joshua got fucking pissed offed when he woke up after the period ended. He thought Pete did it, cause Pete's handwritting was on the note. Now, Joshua is huge, Pete a midget. They started fighting cause Joshua smacked Pete in the head. Due to Omerta, Pete never told Joshua it was me, and so, he absorbed all the blows instead. Good lad.

Moral of the story : Condoms cause mayhem in the hands of adolescent kids.

That's just the beginning of my education. Over the years, I discovered from observation, and sometimes by participation, the many uses of a condom (besides the obvious) :

1) Baloon
2) Water container
3) Plastic bag
4) Makes a good gift - give people flavoured condoms for their birthdays. Its funny.
5) Tie both ends together and use as rubber band
6) Use the rubber band condom to lastik people
7) Funny when you squeeze some white colour shampoo in it and throw at people

If you can think of anything else, or have used it for any other purpose, please let me know....


Wednesday, February 02, 2005


I was reading an article the other day about naughty stuffs that kids do. Among the common stuffs - shoplifting. Mostly kids shoplift for the thrill and the excitement. Some of them crave to get caught, so that they have some attention. Others do it cause they want something and they can't afford it.

Me....I shoplifted only once in my life. But it was not for any of those reasons. My intentions were very honourable. Trust a thief to justify his actions...

Anyways...I was in Form 2. They had just taught us some stuffs in Science class. They were telling us about dicks and stuffs like that, and how people get pregnant. Ok, bear in mind, I think we were at that point more knowledgeble in this stuff than that old haggard Indian woman who was our Science teacher. She probably hadn't had sex in 10 years. I remember mocking her face when one dude purposely asked her 'how do men and women have sex'?

Anyways, there was something we did learn that day. They taught us about this stuff called a condom. Its a very sad situation here, a bunch of Form 2 kids who didn't know what a condom was. I think this kind of situation happens a lot in Malaysia. Sex education is necessary, but morons don't understand that.....anyway, that's not the story.

They told us about this condom thingy, how it was like a glove that fits over a man's penis (I hate that word, dick is a nicer word), and it can miraculously prevent stuffs like pregnancy and STDs. Problem is...they never showed us one. Put yourself in the shoes of a 12 year old kid (I was 12 in Form 2).....people tell you that a glove can stop pregnancy. It kept bugging me....how the fuck does a glove do that?

I was damn curious to find out. Firstly, I needed to know how the damn thing looked. I was still imagining a rubber glove that doctors use. I asked around my friends, and nobody had seen one. No way we were going to ask our Science teacher. So, we decided to go buy one and see what it looked like. We went to a nearby 7-11 to try to buy some. Not a good idea.

We got lambasted by the cashier when we tried to pay for it. (Malaysia has a law where you have to be over 18 to be able to buy condoms). We told him that we wanted to see what he looks like. He asked us to go home and ask our parents. The motherfucker thought that a bunch of Form 2 kids wanted to have a mass orgy or something. Which is kinda stupid, cause in that case, I'll definately sell those kids the condoms.

So...not being to ask our teacher, not being able to buy it from 7-11, what did we do next? Well, some dude suggested that we ask our parents. We bashed him up for being stupid. We also told him that he was welcome to try to ask his parents. The idiot came back the next day, admitting that he did not dare to ask. Would you?

So, after school, we decided that by hook or by crook, we need to land our hands on a pack of condoms. The plan was for one of us to buy something, and while the cashier was busy punching out the items, someone would grab a pack of condoms which were conveniently placed on the counter. That someone turned out to be me, cause I lost the lat-tali-lat-tali-tam-pon.

It went smoothly...I was scared of getting caught, obviously. But I was a smart kid. As soon as I flicked the pack, it went below the counter-level and out of sight of the cashier. I also surveyed the place to look for cameras. There was only one, and in no position to capture my act. After putting it in my pocket, I hang around the counter a while before casually walking out of the shop with my friend. It took less than a minute.....

So...whose fault was it? Me? My friends?

I think it was everybody's fault. Sure, I regret what I did. It was stupid, what if I got caught? But...

Does no fault lie with the dumbass teacher who teaches about condoms but doesn't show the students one? Or with the Education Ministry, who doesn't encourage the teachers to do that? Or with the damn government for not letting minors buy condoms?

We wanted to learn....but what if some kids wanted to fuck? Deny them condoms as well?

*Tomorrow - what we did with those condoms........you can try to take a guess, humour me, but there's no way you'll get the answer*


Tuesday, February 01, 2005

a small reminder

Valentine's Day is in two week's time. I don't really bother what people want to do on the day...but I thought that I should give people valuable advice on what to buy your partner for 'the big day'. Everybody probably has some kinda idea, so read on as I go through the common stuffs:


Girl to give Guy - No.

Don't try to be clever. There's a reason why most guys don't receive flowers. Guys are practical people. What the fuck do you expect us to do with a plant? Eat it? Save your money. Buy us beer.

Guy give Girl - No.

1) They are fucking expensive.
2) They die in less than a week.
3) They stink when they die.
4) You can't do anything with it.
5) It lacks originality.
6) Roses have thorns which can prick you. What if the woman has diabetes? The cut might develop into gangraine, and she might have to amputate her finger after that. What kinda sick bastard would do that to his woman?

Never mind whether the girl likes it or not, I believe I have stated enough points why you shouldn't buy flowers.

Soft toys

Girl give to Guy - No.

Don't try to be clever. There's a reason why most guys don't receive soft toys. Guys are practical people. What the fuck do you expect us to do with a teddy bear? Eat it? Save your money. Buy us beer. Or a vintage Optimus Prime transformer robot.

Guy give Girl - No.

1) Help cut down on the exploitation of child labour.
2) Its fucking expensive.
3) YOU, the guy, can't do anything with it.
4) It lacks originality.
5) Unlike you, the girl would actually play with the damn teddy bear. Worse still if you give her a big mother of giant bears. Any guy who does that needs to get a smack and think a bit. Giant bears exist for one reason - to be cuddled in bed. Now, you give her the giant bear, she cuddles it. Without that ball of cotton, she cuddles you.

Never mind whether the girl likes it or not, I believe I have stated enough points why you shouldn't buy giant deformed bears.


Girl give Guy - YES.

Chocolates are good. They can be eaten. Enough said.

Guy give Girl - YES.

However, its a bit tricky when you give it to her. You have to make sure she opens the present in front of you. Then, make sure she eats one. Hopefully, she'll offer you some. Decline at first. Ask her how it tastes. She should offer you one more again. Eat with glee.

Its even better if she's on a diet. She will say stuffs like "But I'll get fat." Here's where you say stuffs like, "Oh dear, I don't care, you're so pretty it doesn't make a difference." Note that you DON'T say that she WON'T get fat. You still sound like a nice guy, but she also takes note that she MIGHT get fat. Hopefully, she'll offer you the rest of the chocolates. Like the above case, decline first. She should offer you more. Eat with glee.

Anything else is fair play. It shows creativity. Personally, I feel its best to make the presents yourself. Or if you aren't artistic enough, then buy something simple and make it look like as though you made it. You need to use your head here. I can't help you. Cause I can't have people copying my cool ideas. That would then make me look unoriginal. Which would be bad for my image.