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Friday, April 29, 2005

random lesson in generating opinions

My friends seem to think that I am a damn opinionated person. When it comes to opinions, most people just follow the mob culture or listen to what they read in the papers under the 'editorial' section. So, here are 5 simple steps to generating your own opinions...or you could just stick to whatever it is you were doing.

1) If you are going to say something, think it through properly, then only talk about it. Don't say something if you aren't too sure about it. That only serves to make you look stupid later on.

2) After you thought it through, and decide that you want to say something, make a stand and STICK TO IT. Otherwise, you would just look like a moron who can't make up his mind and can't stick to his principles.

3) If you say something, expect flak. That's how things work. People are going to disagree. Here's where you need to have been very strong in number 1 & 2. This is so you can defend your point. Before you say something, think of the objections that your opponents are going to raise, and think of how to counter those rebutals. This is especially important if you are a kid in school taking part in one of those Minggu Bahasa debates. Key point here is being able to counter those flaks.

4) Have some balls. Even if you come under heavy flak, stick to your believes. I think that is something people can respect. Don't be a chicken and change your mind halfway and say "Nola, I didn't mean it like that........" or "It was not my intention to hurt people, but...." Cause that seriously makes you look stupid. Lets face it, there are always going to be sensitive people out there. If it was not your intention to hurt people, then you should just shut up.

5) As someone wisely said, "Nobody can make you look bad except yourself."


*quotes and events are purely fictional. any perceived similarity with real life events are purely coincidental and the blame should be put upon the Gods*

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malaysian culture?

Was reading this just now.

The writer basically questioned : "What is Malaysian culture?" Well, considering the fact that we are a multiracial country, and hence multicultural, what would we term as a unique Malaysian culture? What is so special about us that no other country has?

Surely it has to be the food. Where else can you get so many types of food? Where else can you sit by the roadside or next to smelly drains and yet get fantastic variety of food in the middle of the night?So yeah.....its the food then. That's truly Malaysian, alright.

But surely nobody's culture is based solely on food? That would make it a culture of gluttons. So what else is there? Could it be our pirated VCDs? Once upon a time, I thought we were doing very well with this pirated thingy of ours....until I met the Thais and the Chinese. My friend from China has a stack of VCDs and DVDs which he bought at home. The quality of it beats ours hands down. No shits. I even thought they were original ones.

Then, I thought I was being clever by buying Pro-Evolution Soccer from Malaysia and bringing it here to play on the PS2. My Thai friend did one better - he bought it from Thailand. Those Thai buggers cracked the game and replaced the fake team names with the real names (because of copright issues, even the original version does not use the real names of the teams). The Thai pirates also took the liberty of modifying the jerseys to include the sponsors' logos. There is even the Thai national team in there (not in the original version) which is sort of a cheat team because it is too good.

So, its not the fake stuffs that make us uniquely Malaysian.

Loads of stuffs have been going on about how uncaring and inconsiderate we actually are. But, to be fair, I think its not just a problem that we face. I think most Asian countries have serious issues with that.

And to be honest, I couldn't think of anything else that is unique to that place we call home. I was sitting and thinking about it over and over again, yet I just could not get my brains to work. So, I decided to read the original article again, along with the comments made by the readers (check it out from the above link). Two dudes said that we have no culture at all. And then it hit me.

I have met loads of people from loads of countries in uni....all with different backgrounds. Rich and poor alike. However, nobody, and I mean it, NOBODY puts down their own country as willingly as we Malaysians do. From the sports teams to the government to the national cars, nothing is spared as we indulge in endless critisism our country. Never mind about whether the critisism is warranted or not, some dudes just love to bitch non-stop about how everything about Malaysia sucks.

That, my friends, is truly Malaysian.

*please feel free to add in what you think Malaysian culture includes*

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Wednesday, April 27, 2005

you'se are all fucking idiots

*an apology in advance to my readers who do not follow the on-goings of the Malaysian blogosphere and have no idea what I am rambling about*

*I don't believe on flaming people on their own blog as it is their own space, so I flame them on mine. If you disagree, then tell me so I can personally flame you in front of all your readers.*

No, seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you people?

Ok...I didn't give much of a hoot about people shutting down their blogs. Its their life. Its their blogs. Let them do what they want that makes them happy. You want to shut it, you like laaa...

However, I find it extremely pissing off everytime I read a blog telling people how the should or should not blog. First, you get the 'famous' people talking about the no-no's. Then, I just read about some kiasu dude complaining about blog traffice whores who blast people for:

There is nothing about their life, nothing about their thoughts, but instead some piece of rubbish that has no value.

Helllooooo?? What the fuck? Have you people even forgotten why you blog in the first place? Is it not an expression of yourself? I have written many many many times about this crap. You can read the latest one here. Who the fuck do you people think you are - that gave you the right to say what people should or should not blog about? To you, its rubbish, to other people - its a damn funny joke.

Helllloooo?? What the fuck? Are you people that stupid that you need things to be spelt out to you? Take me for example - if I am in a happy mood, I don't go around telling people I am happy because I think that is a boring way of expressing yourself. Instead, I write a story reflecting that happy mood. Similarly, if I write about cursing people, its because I am in a shitty mood and the story of the cursing reflects that mood. So don't hold it against me if you don't have a creative writting talent.

And don't you fuckers dare talk to me about blogging 'with ethics and respect to others'. Something unethical to you might be perfectly alright with others, alright? And since you fuckers are so up your arse about ethics and respecting others, well, let me tell you that I THINK its damn unethical and damn unrespectful for you to try to tell me, or other people what the fuck we should or should not blog about.

If he wants to blog about drugs, let him.
If she wants to perverse some fairy tales for jokes, let her.
If he wants to edit some fucking image for a laugh, let him.
If I want to talk about some fucking 17A student, fucking let me!

I think those stuff are pretty fucking good reading material. You can disagree with the opinions we are trying to convey, but don't fucking tell us what we should or should not write about! And yes, I do agree that blogs are a reflection of a person in real life - but if you are too stupid to figure out what the blogger is trying to say, whose fault is that?

Remember the rules of blogging? I change my mind - there's only one rule - don't fucking tell people what they should or should not write about.
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Anybody sharp enough would have realised the amazing irony behind that sentence.


*Oh..just to spell things out in big clear letters, since there are usually morons out there - I was not contradicting myself. I was just being very cynical*

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don't speak in front of me

The only publicity this blog has among my friends is through my Friendster account. There's just one sentence about it in the 'About me' section. Otherwise, my friends tend to find out about it through other friends. Sometimes, some people do tell me when they first read about it. And because of that, some of them feel the need to 'warn' others about me.

Like a couple of months ago, I was talking with a few dudes and one dude tried to make a stupid joke. My friend Leman then said, "Eh, careful what you say in front of Vincent - after he put it in his blog."

If only Leman was in my hostel - he could sure warn a lot of people about me. A certain Rabbit could do with a warning. Last I heard, the Lion Pretender boyfriend of hers actually had a fiance and another girlfriend plus Rabbit herself. Wow, shite! I always thought male Lion Pretenders were women repellents. I blame the press for that misconception.

But anyway, Rabbit is the type of person I feel who desperately seeks other people's attention, and so she found it suited to announce her predicament in front of everybody in the dining room. Now, let me distance myself from that boyfriend of hers, and say that it was really unfortunate that she got duped by an ass. So, wisely, she decided to break up with him - but not before vowing for revenge.

You see, when people are in tough predicaments, I never laugh at them. I am a very kind person, you see. However, things change when the said person does/says something stupid and makes me laugh. Yesterday, she again announced (I think she's one of those attention seekers) her oh-so-orginal and oh-so-brilliant mode for revenge. She decided to get back together with the polygamious dude so that she could dump him one day. She also claimed that she never really loved the dude.

As you can imagine, I am a huge fan of her great idea. I am 101% behind her in this plan. I think its a fucking brilliant idea. I think she's a damn genius - even smarter than me. And above all, I think she actually meant everything she said. I also kept a straight face and didn't laugh at all when I heard the marvellous plan and her truthful claims.

And just when I thought that I had heard everything and was chomping down on a turkey fillet, another random girl called Manny decided to give me some more stuffs to blog about. Apparently, Manny's friend had date a couple of days ago. For reasons that I cannot possibly fathom, Manny asked her friend whether she could follow (??!?!). The friend then asked her date. The date, obviously a clever guy, would have obviously been cursing but decided it was not a good idea to piss off the friend of his date. So, he brought a friend for Manny.

Just now's conversation takes the cake :

Manny : *something something*.....blind date.
Rabbit : At least you went on a date.
Manny : Yeah, but I still don't have a boyfriend.

Desperate fuck.

Oh, by the way, in case you are wondering why I did not write a physical description of Manny, well I am in a very happy mood and I feel like a very nice guy today, so I want to be kind to her and therefore I won't write any description of any sorts - except tell you that the name I gave her suits him her.

In case you guys haven't already noticed, I do tend to gossip a shit load. Its one of my main hobbies. My main hobby is sleeping, followed by blogging, and then gossiping, and then followed by blogging gossips like that. And yes, today is just one of those days when I feel like being a complete arse.

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Tuesday, April 26, 2005

no suitable title

Yesterday, I talked about the slit-eyed show, and randomly announced that I had a new chick. Seems more people are interested in my chick. *tsk tsk*

So...what do you busybodies wanna know? Ok ok...she plays tennis, although not very good.

What else? Ok...she's blonde too.

Her name? Anna.



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That's not really my girlfriend, if it wasn't already obvious to you. Oh, and if you are a guy and don't know who that is, please go and suck your own dick.

Ok ok, you can click here to see my new chick's picture. But that's all you are gonna get from me. I don't blog private stuffs ok.





Just as a random lesson, there's more chance of me shaving my head than me talking about my girlfriend on my blog. Oh..thanks for the laughs guys. Speaking of which..head shaving I mean..what would your reaction be if one day you saw your friend with his hair shaven bald?

You then try to guess - why the fuck did he shave it for? There are usually a few reasons which won't go wrong - depending on the type of person he is.

1) Religious dude - he made some sort of pact with Lucifer in order not to study for exams. All he needed to do was shave his head.

2) Sporty dude - wants to be like Jordan...or Agassi...or Roy Keane.

3) Dumbass - lost a bet. I mean, which idiot bets his hair?

4) Vainpot - Thought he could pull a Brat Pitt and look good with a clean shaven head.

5) Dumbass 2 - Wondered how he would look like bald. Stupid because he could have used Adobe Photoshop to see how he would look.

6) Stingy fuck - Figured that he would save money on the barber fees.

That's about all I can think off actually....Oh, or he could be someone like Vincent who just woke up one morning and figured he would do it just for the fucks of it.

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Monday, April 25, 2005

a slit eyed discussion

*spoilers ahead*

Many weeks back, succumbing to the many reviews I read about Sepet, I decided I had to watch that show. And so, just a few weeks ago, I managed to get my hands on a not-so-original VCD of Sepet.

The first time I watched it was more of a joke, and since I watched it with Kay (who isn't Malaysian), I had to explain some stuffs to her mid-way through the movie. At the end of it, I think we both agreed that it was sort of a very weird movie, though it was pretty darn funny. Harith Iskandar is the sort of person you can laugh at even when he pulls a serious face.

I however, watched it for the second time today. Obviously, when watching it again, it wasn't quite as funny because I knew when the jokes were coming. This time, however, I did manage to soak up the seriousness of some of the scenes.

Is it a great movie? No.

But its different. Its a Malaysian movie, truly Malaysian. It pokes all the right sentiments - their friend with the irritating phone, the mamak who didn't give a shit that someone got shot, the motorbike weaving in and out of traffic......Those I feel were the defining moments of the movie. Those were the scenes that made me feel Malaysian. There were some scenes which were weird, though (all scenes with his friend, Keong). Nobody speaks like that, ok? Besides, conversations between two ahbeng VCD sellers would no doubt contain more "kaneneh" and "cheebai" than was mentioned.

The story? Well.....I didn't like the story and the concept behind it. Realistically, you know its not as simple as that. I've explained it before, if you remember - you can read it here : "at what cost?" My views on that remain pretty much the same.

The part I pondered upon the most was probably the ending, in the car, when the two women were doing their womanly stuffs (crying) and Harith was mumbling stuffs in the background - "...gangsterism.....making other women pregnant.....Abah rasa budak ni tak sesuai la...I'm sorry." His wife then gets a bit pissed - "Tak sesuai? Do you know those were the exact words ayah I cakap when I told him I wanted to marry you?"

Harith has a point there, actually. Now, I am not a parent, so my imagination has to govern my thoughts for the moment - but can any parent, or anybody out there tell me that they would actually be happy for their daughter whose boyfriend sells pirated VCDs for a living, lives in a constant fear of being bashed up by other dudes, and successfully got another chick pregnant? Sesuaikah budak macam tu?

By the way......can somebody explain to me what happened in the ending? Who the hell was that on the phone if he had already got knocked down? Is it one of those movies where you have to guess the ending? Like Italian Job (not the shitty remake, but the original one where the van hangs off the cliff and then the movie ends.) If there is something I hate about movies it is for something weird to happen in the end, and I think, "What the fuck just happened there?"



In a totally unrelated, but joyous occasion, I got myself a new chick today. Only my 2nd ever........so happy.. :) More about her tomorrow...

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Saturday, April 23, 2005

somethings are just wrong

Just now, at dinner, this dude from HongKong wore a pink polo t-shirt to the dining room. Thing with almost all the hongkee dudes I know, they have a damn weird dress sense. This guy, however, was alright - or so I thought until just now.

Then Singaporean dude then tried to make fun of him and said he looked gay. Mind you, its not often that I agree with the Singaporean dude. It was a good thing I kept my mouth shut too, because immediately after he said "gay", there was a barrage of critisism from other people. A lot of people called him old-fashioned and conservative. One dude even said, "Wearing pink shows that a guy is modern."

Fine.

If I am old-fashioned, conservative, out of date, or whatever shit you want to call me - fine by me! I won't be caught dead wearing a pink shirt, that's for sure. I don't care what those homosexuals bisexuals trisexuals metrosexual dudes think. Pink is a woman's colour ok. Its just not right. No justification required, no excuse needed. Pink on a man is like pink on a lion - ever seen a pink lion??

And then, the conversation after that continued on to where the dude bought the shirt. It was, as he claimed - a genuine Polo Ralph Lauren. And apparently, he got it cheap - on E-Bay. I dunno about you, but buying a shirt on E-Bay is another thing that I won't do. I didn't want to ruin it for him - so I didn't tell him that his shirt looked a bit fake.

But yeah....some things are just wrong. Men in pink clothes is certain one of them.

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Wednesday, April 20, 2005

my heroes

Yesterday, my dad celebrated an anniversary. It marked his 45th year working in the same company. Yups, you read it right....45 years of undying loyalty with the same company.

48 years ago, after finishing Form 5 (or whatever it was called back then), he was only one of two people from that little hick town he came from to be selected to go to Singapore to further his studies under a scholarship. Being young (and possibly big headed) he fooled around a wee bit too much, flunk his exams, and got dumped by those dudes who gave the scholarship in the first place.

He could, of course continue studying, had my grandfather permitted (and paid for it), but in those days (and certainly, still) face was an important thing. My grandfather was so ashamed of the fact that he was boasting about his son getting a scholarship one day and flunking the next day. So ashamed, that he refused to let my dad continue studying (well, he had no objections about the studying part - just that he refused to pay for the studies, even though he could).

And so, my dad returned that little hick town of his, and (possibly) a fallen hero among some of his old teachers, they offered him a job teaching Maths in his former school - my dad's Maths is superb (a trait I picked up from him, *ahem*).

One year later, he decided to move on to the city to make more money. And so, he came to KL with a practically empty wallet. He popped by this small little company on Old Klang Road just to check if they were hiring. The boss, a stout old man who had little respect for stowns, interviewed him and gave him a very weird Math question - just to test how good a teacher he used to be. My dad accepted the challenge with glee.

The old man gave him the question and told him to take as much time as he wanted. My dad took 5 minutes. He went knocking on the old man's door and showed him the calculations and the answer. The old man, thoroughly shocked at the speed at which it had been done, took just a glance at the paper and told my dad that it was wrong. Dad asked him to check the answer. Old man did...and let a puzzled expression escape his face. He meticulously scanned the page over and over again before admitting, "I don't understand the method you used, but its certainly much quicker than my way and definately correct" before adding, "So, when can you start work?"

To which Dad replied, "Its almost 1 now, I can start after lunch."

That story was related to me by Dad many many times when I was a kid - especially the flunking part - sort of as a warning not to play around too much. My mum would convey the more emotional message as Dad was not one to show much emotion (another trait I picked up from him).

Mum tells the story of how the early days of Dad's career was the toughest. The old man, delighted with such an efficient worker, used him in every way possible before deciding that Dad was an excellent door-to-door salesman. Mum also tells the story of how there were days nearing the end of the month where Dad was desperately short on cash and waiting for payday he could not decide whether to spend the money he had left to buy food for dinner or petrol for his car so he could go around and make more sales.

45 years on, and that small little company in Old Klang Road is now a huge multinational company with branches in Europe and all over South East Asia. That young salesman is now one of the Managing Directors of that company. And so, from a salesman with no money for petrol, he now has enough money to give his children what they want (although we never really ask for more than what we need), and send my sister and I overseas to study.



The post was supposed to end there, but I can't sleep, so I decided to extend it.

My sister was never a bright student. She didn't do great in her SPM, switched courses mid-way through uni cause she didn't make the grade, resit one whole year, and didn't graduate with an Honours.

Inspite of that, she had a job with Ford waiting for her even before she graduated, but the Australian government did not want to grant her a work permit, and so she came back to Malaysia. In her first job interview, the only concern the interviewer had about her was her grades, but after chatting with both her references (as she would learn later), she got the job.

9 years on, she now has her own engineering consultancy firm and not far away from her first million.



Now you know why I am so condescending towards straight A students.

I have seen enough to make generalisations - too many top students in school or even in uni end up as nobodys when they get out into the real world. Too many to mention. Those that do succeed turn up as working zombies without any purpose or passion in life.

On the other hand, its those mediocre students (and one case I know - a totally fucked up student) who manage to take themselves furthest in life. Of course.....most of the fucked up students turn out to be VCD sellers.

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its ALL about the race

Ok..this post was long coming.

A couple of months ago, there was a big shout about that LRT advertisement. To refresh your memory, there was an advertisement about an uncaring Malaysian who sat on the LRT and refused to give up his seat to old people and pregnant women. I didn't manage to watch it for obvious reasons, but apparently, there was this politician guy who wasn't too pleased with it.

All because the uncaring man in the advertisement was played by a Malay guy. The fuss was that that advertisement portrayed Malays in a bad way. Luckily, sense prevailed and that advertisement was not banned. A lot of people reasoned (rightly so) that it was a Malaysian thing, and not specific to any race.

That gets you thinking......it was so obvious that the advertsiement was not a racial attack. Its just that some people wanted to make it such. With the government constantly stressing for racial tolerance and all that crap, you wonder.....what have we achieved as a country in regards to that issue? What sort of mentality do we have as a community if a politician - one who was voted into office by the people - can link such a harmless advertisement to a racial issue?

There are loads of things which are never issues of race, but more of mentality of the people. Yet, we bloody Malaysians choose to take the easy road out. Blame the race. Its as simple as that. That's just us, ain't it? Everything we do has gotta do with our race, doesn't it? I've written about that before...you can check it out here (Racial Hoo-hah)

When I wrote that SPM article, I expected a very mixed reaction. It generated loads of shockwaves through the Malaysian internet community, and people have been talking about it loads of forums. Below are an almost complete list of forums where it was discussed extensively. You can read if you have time. The links open up a new window which take you straight to the thread in which it was discussed :

1) Lowyat
2) Cari
3) Terato
4) Malaysian Bikers
5) Hell Storm Raiders
6) Play
7) Hanoverianapostates (not really a forum)

I would say that its an even split of 50-50 between the people who agree with me and those who don't. More distressingly, and even on my own blog, there was something I never expected. I expected flamers talking about me, blasting me personally. Sadly, a lot of people chose to bring race into the equation.

In one of the earlier comments on my blog, somebody commented,"I guess kiasuism is not limited to the Chinese race." I replied,"Kiasuism spreads through one race - bangsa Malaysia"

The first line of this post stated that this was long coming. Its a result of a series of pissing off events. The first maybe was more amusing than it was pissing off. It came from the Cari forum (number 2 on the above list). Some dude posted this :


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Someone responded in my favour by copying my Racial Hoo-hah article and pasting it there. The earlier guy, the same idiot who brought the issue of race into the argument then responded by :


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That matter served more to amuse me than to piss me off - cause that guy was obviously more stupid than he was malicious.

The next occurance, however, was definately a racial thingy. About 2 weeks after I wrote that SPM article, feedback had obviously slowed down to a trickle, and forum activity had almost ceased. Then, my site counter suddenly registered loads of hits from the MalaysianBikers forum where one of their forum members had stumbled upon this site. That coincided with A LOT of very fucked up comments on my blog, some of which I deleted due to the seriously racial nature of them.

However, I am the type of person who is easier to amuse than to piss off. Again, I wrote that off as a bunch of clowns riding bikes. I mean...its a biker forum..what are they doing discussing SPM results? So, instead of getting pissed offed, I decided to humour them by writting this. I even took the liberty of taking the piss out of the guy who asked me whether I "terlebih makan babi".

The final straw came the other day when my site counter registered hits from a Haloscan comment from this site called Hanoverianapostates (number 7 on the above list). My friend Byn had posted the link of my article and asked the other people to check it out. One anonymous dumbass replied :


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How the fuck did he know that I didn't make fun of the Chinese girl last year, or the Chinese guy the year before that?? Fuck wait....why do I even have to defend myself against that anonymous dude?

As a country, you know you have serious problems with racial harmony when your politician can somehow relate an advertisement as a racial issue. As a citizen, you know that all the racial tolerance make-believe is rubbish when some people find it possible to equate exam results to a racial issue.

Its times like that I really fucking hate my country. Its times like this I really fucking hate calling myself a Malaysian.

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Sunday, April 17, 2005

let me tell you a story

Once upon a time, when the lands were young, and the sea water was fresh, there lived a poor family by the seaside. They were poor, but content with what they had. The father would go fishing everyday and bring home enough food for the family.

However, the little daughter of the family grew discontent with what she had. She wished for more. She wished for nice clothes. She wished for nice shoes. Above all, she wished that she could eat something other than fish.

The story here gets windy and complicated, and so, lets just skip to the part where she one day chanced upon a magic pot. The person who gave her the pot told her that it could multiply whatever she put in it. And, as with many other magical items of that time, there was a way to deactivate the spell.

So off the little girl went, to her little seaside cottage, while her father was at sea and her mother picking clams by the rocky beach. She had a fun time multiplying random stuffs - as you would imagine. Just then, she knocked a container of salt into the pot, and being fine grains of salt, it multiplied exponentially, till it overflowed from the brim of the pot. Being panicked, she tossed the pot out the window, and lo-and-behold, it fell straight into the sea. Since she never stopped the spell, the pot continued churning out salt........till this day.

That's why the sea is so salty today.



My kindergarten teacher told me this story when I was a kid. Ok, she did a much better job than I did....but that's not really the point. The point of it was that its a stupid story that didn't make sense and is obviously not true.

BUT....is that even important?

What Ms. K taught us that faithful day in the kindergarten was that sea water was salty. Of course, when teaching something to an uninterested bunch of kids, it would not have been a good idea to explain the real reason why. Instead, the intended message (sea water is salty) was sent across to the uninterested audience in a matter that would interest them - an amazing story.

This is where I like to relate my favourite religious story. When preaching to a bunch of uninterested people, its not good telling them that there once lived a great man who led a lot of slaves to freedom. Instead, tell them that there once lived a great man who had a stick which he thrust into the sea causing the water to split. Suddenly, everybody stands up and listens intently.

And that's why I feel its not important whether the story is true or false. The important thing is that the message was sent across successfully and to its intended audience.

Today, reading something off Petaling Street, some dude exposed the famous HustlerDiaries as a scam. Come on you people.......did you need a bunch of pictures to figure out that his stories were just STORIES? Are you people that gullible? Same goes for a Sweet Young Thing too.

In case some of you are morons (as is usually the case), this is where I say that I am not flaming either Hustler or SYT. I read their stuffs sometimes and never fail to be amused by them. And that's enough for me. Never mind that I know that their stories are made up, they never fail to amuse me everytime I visit their site. In short, their message was successfully sent across. Shouldn't that be enough?

And this is where I always say....all stories, whether told by your father, your teacher or your friendly blogger....all stories have added preservatives. It is the fundamental principle of human communication isn't it? No story is completely accurate. Its either spiced up to make it more interesting, or toned down so that it would not be too powerful. (with the exception of mine, of course..................)

This is where, as the reader, its damn important that you scour the post for the message the writer is trying to convey. It may not always be in the main bit of the story, and hell, stories can be made up to present the message in a more interesting manner.

And so, answering Michael's question of what makes a good blog, I believe it lays in the blogger's ability to send the message across. If the blogger successfully sends a clear powerful message and says what he wants to say, which impacts people and manages to get them thinking, that is good enough a blog for me. That is why, Lilian, I don't buy your rules of blogging.

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Thursday, April 14, 2005

greetings from amsterdam

Damnn....these fuckers are horneyyyyy!!

I have 30 mins to kill before I go on a tour of the red light district. Its a 2 hour tour conducted by an actual prostitute (or used to be one). I went on a tour myself last night, and boy, some of those prostitutes are so fucking hideous, you wonder how they manage to get customers.

There are also proper legit well-lit places (as opposed to dodgy ones) that have live-sex shows. Did I go check it out? Well...you don't exactly go to London's West End without watching a play right? There's a funny story (which I'll tell you next day) where I asked the bouncer what a banana show was.

One thing about this trip so far.....its missing good food. I am the type of person who would rather pay money for food than other stuffs like clothes. And so, I try to savour all the good food I can. Unfortunately, food sucks in this country. No, really. The food sucks. They have shops which dispense hot food (like burgers) through vending machines. Heelllooooo?? Vending machine? What the fuck are they thinking?

More details about everything when I get back.

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Tuesday, April 12, 2005

amsterdam

I'll be off to Amsterdam in a few hours time.

I bought this guide book, and its got a lot of useful information about Amsterdam. For example, contrary to popular belief, even the soft drugs are technically illegal, just that possession and consumption have been partly decriminalised. Also, in the famous red-light district, you should NEVER try to take a picture of a prostitute or you will find yourself in quite deep shit. Apparently too, the Dutch have a great reputation for being tolerant people and hence, its really okay to be gay.

So...I am off to see the red light district capital of the world some nice tulips and windmills. Till Thursday, bye bye.

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Friday, April 08, 2005

wait a while

As I don't have a computer right now, posts are going to be infrequent until I get a new one. I really hate typing blogs from the computer lab - the keyboards suck and people are always staring when my beautiful maroon screen pops up.

George said he'll lend me his old notebook till I get a new one...so I'll be able to start blogging from home in a couple of days time. I've got a spanking post which I can't wait to put up - its about racist motherfuckers in our beautiful multi-racial Malaysia. Wait for it, ok?

Oh...and I managed to land my hands on a Sepet VCD, so my review on that will come. Till then, jut wait a while la.

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Thursday, April 07, 2005

10 fucking minutes

In this world, there are many fuckers who don't deserve to breathe Earth's precious oxygen. Last night, one such fucker crossed my path. Well, actually, he didn't exactly cross my path, because I would have pounded him if he did.

Its the Easter holidays now, and I am staying in my friend's house (ground floor to be exact). I went up for a shower, and when I came down, the first thing I noticed was that my table was empty. Notebook was gone. Upon further inspection, my phone, wallet and coin jar was gone. It seems, while I was in the shower, a rabbid bitch climbed over the backyard fence, got in through the back kitchen window, grabbed some stuffs and got out, all in under 10 minutes when everybody in the house was in and all the lights downstairs were switched on. He could have easily been caught if anybody went down for a drink. Some balls, eh?

I immediately got hold of Kay's phone and dialed my phone number hoping I could talk to the fucker. The following conversation then took place :

Fucker : Hello?

Vincent : You motherfucker...give me back my stuffs!

Fucker : Your stuffs? Last I checked, they are still with me. I think we'll now call it MY STUFFS.

Vincent : I would have beat your ass to pulp if you were two minutes too slow.

Fucker : Well, maybe that would have happened, but I now have all your stuffs. Ha ha!


Well, doesn't that suck? First he took my stuffs, then he mocked me. (Ok....I made that up..he turned it off immediately after he took it. He had the balls to take it, but not the balls to talk to me)

But.......in every fucked up situation, there are things you could be thankful for :

1) I decided not to take a poop. Robbed that fucker 5 minutes to grab more stuffs.
2) Didn't take my passport which was on the table as I just booked my flight to Amsterdam, that would have cost much more than the notebook if he sold it.
3) Didn't take my digicam which was 3 inches away from my notebook, but he decided to take my coin jar which was filled with 1p and 2p coins (an estimated grand total of £2.59)
4) Didn't take my brand new Motorola V3 which I just got that morning and was still charging, but he instead took my Nokia 7650 which he would find has a faulty on/off switch.

Of course, there are the things you curse :

1) If only I hadn't watched that stupid Liverpool, I would have showered much earlier and wouldn't have left my room after that. This gives me another reason to hate Liverpool.
2) If only I had continued watched tv after the game.
3) If only there were a few minutes here and there....like if I had taken a quicker shower, I don't care if I was wrapped in a towel..if I saw the guy in my house, I would have fucking pounded his ass (not to be taken literally)

Oh...yeah...and superstition comes into play here. I always say..some people have smelly mouths. 2 days ago, when I was on the phone with Vodafone, negotiating a new deal which got me that Motorola V3, the woman asked me whether I wanted to buy insurance. I told her that was not necessary, as I am a damn careful person. She said,"Well, Mr Lau, sometimes things happen. Its like..if you don't buy the lottery, you won't strike it." Those words sealed my cosmic fate then....damn saleswoman. Look, I have insurance for every damn thing from the day I landed in this country. Problem is, my insurance doesn't cover stuffs outside my hostel. So...cool!

And talking to DinoDude (my British friend) today, I was explaining that we bloody Malaysians like to buy lottery everytime something shitty happens. Like associating car number plates to the 4D lottery. So, I went out and bought me a couple of Lotto tickets. Tonight, I will be £2.8 million richer. I mean...I can't possibly have such bad luck 2 days in a row, right? Guaranteed to strike!

Oh, and finally, a telepathic message to the leech who stole my stuffs :

May the virus from my computer infect you and infest your bowels with the vomit of a 1000 obese skunks till the fleas eat away at your lungs so you can't breathe and eventually resemble a dried out sea slug when you die, you contemptuous misogynic mongrel.

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Tuesday, April 05, 2005

booooo

If any of you thought that my competition was for real.......please find the nearest sewer and plunge in for a swim. I mean, its ok if you don't have a calender, and forgot that it was April Fool's Day, but when I already reminded you, that's really not cool.

At this point.....a lot of people are screaming to themselves : "I knew it was a joke all along."

I say : "I have no reason to doubt you, cause only you would know whether you are a dumbass or not."

But anyways......thanks to you guys who seriously thought it was for real and answered...check your mail box, you'll find a specially drawn love mail from me. Although, if your feelings were hurt or something, don't expect an apology from me.

Oh yeah.......I was supposed to post a picture of myself:


Image hosted by Photobucket.com


As you can tell from the picture, I wasn't a very nice kid.








*if you believed that it was a picture of me, pleasee...do the world a favour and end your life*

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Friday, April 01, 2005

double celebration competition

It was my blog birthday 2 days ago. I was planning of doing something special for it - you know, sort of like a great article or a funny joke. But then, I got too busy with assignments playing PS2. Then I figured, since the 1 year anniversary is so close to April Fool's Day, why not do a double celebration?

Now....there really isn't much you can do on blogs to trick people. I mean, you could bluff people that you are closing it down ala MichaelOoi. The only other alternative is like what Maddox did, where he changed his site to have a different sissy theme so that readers thought it had been hacked. Other things could include telling a story and then declaring that you were pulling people's legs. Besides that, there is pretty much nothing else any blogger could do to trick people online.

So, I've decided to sod April Fool's and instead make the 1 year birthday of this blog the theme for this article. Which brings me back to the point above - I still need something special to cap it off. But....if you have been paying attention, I already said, I DON'T have something special prepared.

And then...as I am typing this, I figured, hey, competitions are good things! So, doesn't matter if you've been a regular at my blog or if you're a newbie, humour me this :

1) What is a toyol? (Andy, Keng, Seta - you guys are not allowed to answer this question)
2) What is it called if we give equal roles to people who clearly are not equal?
3) "...that big titted woman walking down the street with her top two buttons open, revealing her Victoria's Secret underneath" Who was I referring to when I said that?

And really, please humour me, cause I'll look like an arse if nobody replies...all the answers are in the archives, somewhere.

Rules :

1) Just leave a comment in the comment box.
2) You don't have to get all 3 answers right.
3) In fact, I want 3 different winners, so if you get more than one question right, then the next person who gets another question right, wins as well. So if you are damn sure that you got it right, then don't answer more than one question.
4) Doesn't matter if you read the blog a bit late and saw some people answering correctly. Just put your answer in...just in case they are wrong.
5) Just leave your name and your email add in the comments box so I could contact you if you win and get your prize over to you.
6) Entries close 2nd April, or when I feel like it.
7) If you didn't understand the rules, please go kill yourself.

Oh yeah, I didn't mention the prize! What sort of competition would it be if it doesn't have a prize?

*drumrolls please*

For each of the 3 winners, you get 1 pound each! That's a cool RM7.40, which can buy you, absolutely nothing these days. But hey, its not like I am Bill Gates right? I am taking 3 pounds out of my bloody pocket which I could use to buy me some beer, and giving it to some stranger. It adds the fun of competing anyway. Oh, would be good if you have a paypal account.......never mind..will contact you if you win.

Oh.....and since I do have a lot of strangers reading my blog, wondering what I bloody look like, if ANYBODY can answer this question, I'll post a bloody picture of myself here (not the monkey that you see at the top of the page).

I am a member of the Scum Club. What specifically does the Scum Club do?
*ambiguous question...think properly*

So yeah...what are you waiting for? Humour me! Please don't make me look stupid.

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protective shell

Every parent wants the best for their kid. Usually, no guy is good enough for a father's daughter. No guy can ever be smart enough, successful enough, or caring enough for daddy's girl. Somehow, that mentality rubs off the shoulders of a person onto their friends.

Many a time, we have seen our friends date another person and wonder," What the hell is wrong with her? She can do so much better than him." No matter how happy he makes her, no matter how right he is for her, sometimes a guy is never good enough for a girl in the eyes of her friends. That actually happens on both sides of the coin, but since my story is about a girl I know, so I am telling it from the girl's friends' point of view.

I have a friend, whom I shall now call Belle, because I am in a very fairy tale kinda mood now. Belle started dating this dude about a year ago. Our first impression of the dude was that he was a Beast, and that their relationship would never last. That, and partly becaused we had only heard stories of him and never met him before. Fast forward one year, to the present day, they are still a couple, and possibly still as happy as ever.

We finally met him a couple of months ago, and all our initial accusations proved to be right. He was a damn AhBeng, talking to him was like talking to a male bimbo (bimbo might be a wrong term to use - bimbos generally look good). Nevertheless, as Belle's good friends, we supported her, and accorded Beast the same treatment one would extend to a sibling's partner.

Somehow, no matter what Beast said or did, it was never good enough for us. We figured that his priorities were screwed up and that he was nothing more than a binatang. Belle's good friend, Cinderella spat out most of the venomous critisism, while the rest of us poked the fire with our equally red-hot pokers.

Admittedly so, there were absurd things Beast said which would have been alright if it came out of the mouth of another person. We just mocked him just because he the Beast that Belle was saving from the curse. And then......when I started thinking objectively, it started to make great sense. Belle was just like him. We mocked the way he dressed, but she did the same. We mocked the way he carried himself, but she was the same. We mocked his outlook towards things in general.....only to realise her outlook was exactly the same. And more importantly, they are still together after more than a year.

As a Pug would later put it : "He's the type of guy she would marry one day." But don't get me wrong - we still think he is a fucker, just that now, we accept him for the fucker he is.

Wait.....there is more than one moral of the story somewhere here. Two, in fact. You figure it out.

*Belle was the name of the girl in Beauty and the Beast*

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