Wednesday, August 31, 2005

apa erti merdeka?

Setiap tahun, menghampiri hujung Ogos, warganegara Malaysia seakannya dipupuk dengan semangat kebangsaan yang amat mengilhamkan. Namun, apakah yang kita asyik merayakan ini? Apakah yang menyebabkan semangat yang luar biasa ini?

Adakah semangat yang unik ini hanya lahir disebabkan oleh perayaan Hari Kebangsaan Tanahair? Semangat Merdeka ini memang dapat memupuk kuasa yang luar biasa ini setiap tahun. Kita seakannya lebih mencintai negara kita (tidak kira sama ada ikhlas atau tidak) disebabkan oleh kempen-kempen yang asyik dilancarkan oleh pihak media (termasuk belog saya...haha). Tetapi, apa erti merdeka?

Sebenarnya, saya tidak tahu. Sudah banyak yang dikatakan tentang semangat patriotik warganegara Malaysia. Akan tetapi, tiada sesiapapun yang mampu menjawab soalan itu dengan penuh keyakinan.

Ada dikatakan bahawa Merdeka adalah masa untuk menghargai jasa-jasa dan usaha-usaha bapa kemerdekaan serta perajurit-perajurit yang bersusah-payah berjuang untuk membebaskan tanahair daripada genggaman kuasa asing.

Ada dikatakan juga bahawa Merdeka adalah masa untuk menghuraikan segala kesalahan negara kita agar kita dapat membaiki segala ketidaksempurnaan yang jelasnya sedang merosakkan impian Wawasan 2020.

Ada pula yang berkata bahawa Hari Merdeka ini adalah peristiwa yang diperbesarkan dan kita patut berterimakasih kepada cara hidup kita hari ini yang walaupun bukannya menakjubkan, namun lebih baik dibanding dengan negara membangun yang lain.

Ada yang bertanya....apakah akibatnya jikalau peristiwa 'Merdeka' ini tidak dicapai? Walau apapun kemungkinan itu adalah di luar sangkaan kita.

Yang penting adalah kebolehan kita memeluk sejarah kita dan terus berusaha untuk mencapai segala impian kita. Kita berharap bahawa kita dapat melahirkan bangsa Malaysia yang bersatu. Kita memimpikan intergrasi kaum, serta masyarakat yang bersopan. Kita tidak suka pegawai yang menerima rasuah. Namun, selain daripada asyik mengadu tentang perkara-perkara ini, apakah yang telah kita buat demi mencapai cita-cita tersebut?

Sudah lama saya telah menerungkan perkara ini, namun saya masih keliru - saya mencintai negaraku, tanahairku, tetapi saya masih bertanya APA ERTI MERDEKA?

Saya betul-betul tidak tahu.


Tuesday, August 30, 2005


I just got back from Brussels, where I spent most of my money eating. Belgium is famous for waffles, chocolates and beer. Neuhaus chocolates can cost as much as 1.30 euro for ONE bite size piece (depending on the weight). There are also more than 800 types of beer in that awesome place. I had my first taste of SWEET beer and another type which had a 9.5% alcohol content (usual content is 5%).

*Note to self (and anybody else who cares to listen) : Do not compare Brussels with KL.

I am tired........and I don't write great travel logs anyway, so I'll just leave you guys with a small reminder to BLOG IN BAHASA MALAYSIA tomorrow!

Here's a little teaser for tomorrow:

Apa erti merdeka? Sebenarnya, saya tidak tahu. Sudah banyak yang dikatakan tentang semangat patriotik warganegara Malaysia. Akan tetapi, ..........

Friday, August 26, 2005

kempen belog bm

Ok folks...if you didn't already know, a bunch of us decided that we were going to blog in BM on Merdeka day.

Why? No particular reason. It's not to show that we are patriotic or that we love our country more than everybody else. It is pretty much the same reason the taxi drivers plaster their cars with all those mini-flags - because it's fun.

When was the last time you guys wrote something in BM? For most of us, it would probably be in school or college. Time to refresh your memory and have fun writting in broken BM. It doesn't matter whether you are femes or whether 3 people read your blog everyday. It doesn't matter if you update your blog once a day or once a month. If you have a blog, have fun with it on Merdeka day!

Feel free to use my awesome banner above on your blog to support this (pointless) cause. Or, if you prefer a smaller one....

Related articles :

Kecikpendek (The chat log)
Encik Menang-sen (don't ask)

UPDATE : I noticed that Mata-ris had a lot of questions that a lot of my friends asked me the other day.

Why 'BELOG'?

Because Blog is English, and I thought it would be fun to modify and adapt it to Malay. Don't tell me it's wrong. Although very inaccurate, I cheekily told my friends the other day, "Sebagai seorang perintis, saya berhak mencipta apa-apa perkataan sesuka hati."

(That's because they never heard of Malay blogs before)

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Thursday, August 25, 2005


You know what the most prominent Malaysian culture is? It isn't the pirated stuffs, or the diversity. It's the incessant complaining about our homeland. We complain non-stop about the government and their policies. We complain about how everything is not up to standard with other countries. We complain and point fingers at every higher power imaginable......except the highest power of them all - us citizens who have all that power to make our country a better place.

Yesterday was about an immature FOREIGNER insulting us. That, although being totally disrespectful, nonetheless, she is a foreigner. I was actually even more riled up by the comments written by some Malaysians in agreement with her. This was one of them :
ethan said...

I'd like to apologize, on behalf of my fellow KL-ians. I'm sorry.
Sorry? Sorry for what? That your home is inadequate in the eyes of a foreigner? Sorry that your home disgraces you? Would you apologise to your friends if you had a handicapped brother? Keep your stupid apologies to yourself and be proud of your humble home. No doubt, that a lot of things said were true. However, do not take a piss out of yourself and your country by airing your dirty laundry in public. If you have a fight with your dad, or your mum pisses you off, do you proudly go around telling the whole world about it? Have some pride, people.

A few days ago, I came across this article written by a Malaysian living in Singapore. If you have the time, do read it and read the comments as well. It really saddens me to read things like that. I have a few such friends who enjoyed life overseas so much that they compare it to everything back home to the point that they end up hating Malaysia. I have been here for 3 years now, and granted that it's not as long as some people, it is still enough for me to weigh the pros and cons.

Of course there are a lot of things better here. If you didn't already know, I am trying to look for a job here. In that sense, the job market is almost like a dream. The work attitude is much better. Racial favouritism is virtually non-existant because it is something that the offender can get into deep trouble for. But I never complain about how it is back home. It is something we all grew up with, and I guess we sometimes have to accept things for the way they are. We have to accept the fact that things are done differently everywhere.

Not one to air my dirty laundry in public, when my British friends ask me about home, I tell them that it consists of three major races and we live in harmony. It paints an idealistic picture, and one that isn't very true, but why the need to tell outsiders things that they do not need to know?

However, there was once, when a close friend of mine asked. We had just finished working in the workshop for the day and we were tired. While walking back, he asked me about the job conditions back home and why I wanted to work here. Since I was close to him, and he really wanted to know, I told him everything. It was shocking, I would guess, to him that I spoke freely about the problems like as though it didn't bother me and as though I was ok with that idea.

Incredulous, he said, "And you still want to go back after a few years?"


"Why?" he asked, as we were reaching the junction to the bus stop.

"Because..." I said, as I turned to get onto the bus, "It's home."

Update: 5 May 2007

Dear asssholes,

I have closed the comments box for this post, because the shit you morons write are mostly stupid. Amongst Malaysia's "flaws" is that she doesn't allow free speech. Guess what? Neither do I. With free speech comes responsibility, something that the majority of you Malaysians do not have, as clearly shown in the comments box. Yet, you moan and groan about the state of this country.

If you are not happy, you stay and fix things. If you think running away is the best option, then please pack your dreaded bags, and LEAVE. Get out. Get lost. No country needs people like that. You are nothing but parasites eating of the host and complaining that the host doesn't feed you well.



Wednesday, August 24, 2005

here...let me explain

Long long ago, when I went to Thailand, I wanted to buy a (fake) Manyoo jersey. At the shop, the Thai dude told me that it would cost me 2000 baht. I looked at him, let loose a little snigger, and told him that I would pay him 200 baht, no more. He smiled back at me, nodded and handed me the jersey.

A couple of years ago, I went to Rome. Outside the Colosseum, there were a couple of fat Italian guys dressed as Gladiators. Tourists, being tourists, we went up to them and asked if we could take pictures with them. Sure, they said. After taking our snapshots, those two dudes proceeded to ask us for 10 euros each. We argued, politely, that they never told us. They argued that we never asked. Biting our teeth, we managed to settle for a fee of 5 euros. We learned an expensive lesson and let it be.

There is also the story of the extremely rude Czechs, and the taxi driver in Paris who charged us 1 euro per luggage we had (including plastic bags totalling up to 8 euros). In fact, I could write 5 long articles describing all the times that I got conned, or badly treated as a tourist. But I never did, and I don't intend to because it would be an insult to the country and its people. When you go travelling, you have to learn to respect the culture and the behaviour of the people. If you feel like complaining and comparing it to home, then stay home. Because NOTHING WILL EVER BEAT HOME.

Here's another word of advice. Do your homework before visiting another country. I was not offended by the bad service of waiters and museum staff in Czech Republic (I did make fun of them though). Every travel guide book you read will tell you that they are in general aloof and lazy(thanks to all those years of communism). So, we just accept it as part of their way of life. Similarly, any guide book (and any Malaysian, if you care to ask) will tell you to stay as far away as possible from Malaysian cabs. So, if you never did your homework, whose fault is it?

Back to the story with the Thai fella with the jerseys. IF I had paid 2000 baht, and I didn't know the actual price......wouldn't that be my fault? Petaling Street is cheap. For Malaysians. If you weren't clever enough to bargain....whose fault is that?

Now..if you go to Arab, you don't go around wearing shorts, rite? Similarly, if you are in Malaysia and go around visiting Petaling Street with your face plastered with make-up and what-nots, you automatically get categorised under the 'ahlian' section and people discriminate you. Geddit?

Oh....and common sense tells you that if you are in a foreign country and don't speak the language, don't be a goddamn hero trying to scold everybody who pissed you offed, ok?

I know Malaysia has awfully dirty toilets.
I know our AhBengs cheat tourists (and stupid locals).
I know our taxi drivers are scum.
I know that the rest of our public transport sucks.
I know that our police are corrupt.
I know that our tourist attractions are not well maintained.
I know that tourism wise, we are way behind all the other countries I have been to.
I know we have a shit load of flaws.

But it's still my country, it's our way of life and I goddamn love it.

If you cannot respect that, then please stay the fuck away from my country. Thank you.


Tuesday, August 23, 2005

sempena hari kebangsaan

Adalah dimaklumkan bahawa sempena Hari Kebangsaan Tanahair ke-48, saya telah berjanji, bersama dengan rakan-rakan MSN Messenger saya yang suka berborak setiap pagi, bahawa kami akan berbelog dalam bahasa kebangsaan kita pada 31 Ogos yang akan datang. Kawan saya, kecikpendek sudahlah menulis berkenaan dengan topik sensasi ini.

Selain itu, sepanjang minggu ini, saya akan membelog tentang beberapa isu semasa yang berhubung dengan semangat nationalisme yang amat menyinggung perasaan saya (tetapi dalam Bahasa Inggeris). Saya akan menggunakan peluang ini untuk mengkritik beberapa orang warganegara kita yang tidak patut digelar 'warganegara Malaysia'. Kempen saya ini akan memuncak pada Hari Merdeka kita, dan belog hari itu juga akan ditulis dalam Bahasa Malaysia.

Wahai rakan rakan saya! Hari ini, saya juga ingin mengkaji Rukun Negara kita dan mejelaskan kepada beberapa orang Tuan-belog (bloggers) yang berkepala buto, dan tidak memahami hak mereka sebagai warganegara negara yang berdaulat ini. Sesetengah orang berfikiran bahawa mereka boleh menulis dan bercakap sesuka hati disebabkan mereka ada belog. Anggapan ini bukan sahaja salah, malah juga anggapan ini bagaikan mencaci usaha-usaha Bapa Kermerdekaan kita.

Bahawasanya, Negara kita Malaysia mendukung cita-cita hendak:

Mencapai perpaduan yang lebih erat di kalangan seluruh masyarakatnya (SELURUH masyarakat, dan bukan saja masyarakat bangsa sendiri);
memelihara satu cara hidup demokratik (tetapi tidak bermaksud bahawa kamu boleh mengkritik bangsa dan agama orang lain sesuka hati);
mencipta satu masyarakat yang adil di mana kemakmuran negara akan dinikmati bersama secara adil dan saksama (bermaksud bahawa DEB adalah wajib supaya orang-orang kampung yang miskin bolehlah menikmati kemakmuran ekonomi) ;
menjamin satu cara yang liberal (liberal, bukannya radikal) terhadap tradisi-tradisi kebudayaannya yang kaya dan berbagai corak;
membina satu masyarakat progresif yang akan menggunakan sains dan teknologi moden (sudah dibuat).

Maka kami rakyat Malaysia berikrar akan menumpukan seluruh tenaga dan usaha kami untuk mencapai cita-cita tersebut berdasarkan atas prinsip-prinsip yang berikut:

* Kepercayaan kepada Tuhan (dan HORMAT kepada Tuhan agama lain)
* Kesetiaan (dan CINTA) kepada Raja dan Negara
* Keluhuran Perlembagaan
* Kedaulatan Undang-Undang
* Kesopanan dan Kesusilaan (faham tak, kedua-dua perkataan itu?)


a fucking travesty!

There are somethings which are just not right. In sports, there are a lot of things which are totally screwed up beyond logic. A mutated Chinaman in the NBA is a good example of that. Bloody Porto (and Liverpool) winning the Champions League is another bloody travesty. But somewhere, we have to draw a goddamn freaking line at ridiculous stuffs!

Americans winning the doubles event in world championships of BADMINTON is not just bordering on a joke, its effing ridiculous! What fucking right does a country of people who know nothing about a game have to call one of their own 'world champions'?? Badminton? What the bejesus is badminton!?!?

Of course, it pisses me off even further that those dudes aren't even Americans in the first place. Howard Bach was actually born in Vietnam, and we all know who Tony bloody Gunawan is don't we? Who gives a shit if they beat the top seeds, the second seeds, the fourth and eight seeds? They aren't American, and they represent a country which has no interest in the fucking sport, that it's a disgrace and a goddamn insult to everybody else!

You know which other fucking stupid country does things like that? That's right folks! Singa-bloody-pore! Half All their bloody ping pong players are from China, their top badminton player is from Indonesia, and don't even get me started on their stupid football team. If your country doesn't have enough people, too fucking bad. Make do with what you have. Don't go around getting other people to play for you. That's called hiring mercenaries. Brunei has more money than you and a population 10 times smaller than those kiasuwankers, but I don't see them importing players to play for them.

And hey...what do you know? Freaking BOLEHLAND does the same fucking thing too! Only that we aren't exactly we clever, doing stuffs like importing a retarded Chinawoman (she looks retarded, ok?) to walk around in athletics. Only problem is.......she ain't even good!

And I also have a beef with the American and Australian football teams. If there are two teams that I hate in world football, it's Team USA and the bloody Socceroos. Hellooo.....you didn't invent the game, so have enough respect to call the name by its proper name ok? Its FOOTBALL, not bloody SOCCER.

But hey, I am straying away from the bloody topic...back to those Yanks. I suspect some foul play here. IBF has no money, see. They are trying to market the game to the US of A and try to get some fat baseball watching fans to get interested in badminton (same thing those Glazers are doing with Manyoo).

So, they have the World Badminton Championships in the US. What the fuck for? When their plan was not going according to plan, they decided to let those stupid idiots win by bribing the rest of the competition. And that is why, boys and girls, we now have to call a couple of Americans (actually an Indon and a Viet) the WORLD CHAMPIONS of BADMINTON??

There.....if it hadn't set in yet, go back and read the last sentence and try imagining a Malaysian bloke being the world's best LACROSSE player. LACROSSE? What the fuck is LACROSSE? Do Malaysians even play LACROSSE? I don't know....you tell me.

*If you disagree with me, please fuck off. Don't tell me I am being illogical. I know I am. There is no rationality involved in sports. I bet the Yanks will feel the same way the day a Burmese dude becomes the MLB's MVP (if you don't know what the MLB is, well I have proven half my point already)*


Monday, August 22, 2005

burka riddle

*cough, cough....not feeling very well....cough cough*

Last week, I wrote an article about how to behave at an airport arrival gate. At the end, asked you guys to figure out a riddle.

The question was :

Three Arabian women in burkas are travelling together. They are of similar body size and height. When they emerge from an airport's arrival gate, the one in the middle is pushing a trolley on which all their luggages are placed upon (which rules out identification by personal belongings). As soon as their individuals husbands spot them, they rush up to hug/greet the women. How do they know who is who?

*cough cough....fucking hell..I am in the middle of coughing my guts out*

Now, let's look at the possibilities:

1) Most of you horny guys out there suggested just hugging first and finding out later. (Not a very good suggestion, if you ask me.)

2) Of course, I know a lot of you were thinking of looking at the boobs. (Which doesn't make sense because a burka is meant to be loose and block out the perverted eyes.)

3) Look at the damn shoes!

This one is actually plausible when looking at the above example. However, some burkas cover the feet and actually sweep the floor, so you won't be able to see the shoes as well.

So, just as I was wrecking my brains for a suitable answer, I looked at the picture once again, and the answer popped right up. The only other body part that is exposed are the eyes! Surely a husband would be able to tell his wife apart from looking at her eyes?

Sounds logical, right? I mean....if you think about it, the most unique feature of a woman's face are her eyes. Stare long enough into the eye of a woman and you will find yourself looking into a mysterious cave of her inner feelings and desires. And the husband, like any loving man would have spent hours staring into her lovely eyes, unravelling the mysteries of those gorgeous twinkling stars.
*cough cough cough*...*blueak*...pukes blood...*cough cough cough*


Friday, August 19, 2005

good advice

I know I was supposed to give you the answer to yesterday's riddle, but that involved some heavy duty drawing (with the ever so powerful software called Microsoft Paint). I was supposed to do that just now, but I decided to go watch a movie.

When the movie finished about 1230am, we stepped out of the cinema only to find it raining. And it was not the usual piss rain that we usually get here in Britian. This was 'full scale, all guns blasting' rain. And so, we walked back home in the rain, relishing every single moment of it. Just when we were in the process of getting soaked to the bone, a container truck decides to pass by and speed up the shirt soaking process by transferring all that lovely mud water from the roadside on to my white shirt and pants with all of its 10 wheels.

Interestingly, that was the first time I actually screamed out loud in a public place, which was not very sensible considering that the truck is an inanimate object. And I also doubt that the driver, even if he had heard me, would even understand what Machauhai, Tiuniaseng, and Pooookima means.

So anyway, as you would guess it, after getting back, I wasn't quite in the mood to draw some inane (but cool) pictures of women in burkas. But anyway, since I watched 'Wedding Crashers', I decided to give all you little kids out there some good advice. Its actually the same advice I recently gave one of my friends (whom we shall now bestow upon the name of 'InsecureCow').

In Wedding Crashers, the two guys took advantage of the fact that a lot of women were feeling vulnerable and maybe a tad jealous at weddings, thus they found it extremely easy to get those women into bed. (for more information and background reading behind this theory, please read my awesome article about it)

Ok, now InsecureCow was having issues with her love life. There were these three guys at work in her project team that she worked with everyday. (Because of the confidentiality policy of this blog, these three guys shall now be given the unimaginative names of A, B and C). So recently InsecureCow, in her everyday dealings began to get a little interested in all of them. Yes...ALL.

In A, the project leader, she got turned on by his strong leadership (she's a bit of the submissive type I reckon - would make a good SM partner). In B, she was attracted to his charming boyish looks and in C, she loved the bad-boy image that he portrayed. Her question for me : "Which guy should I pick?"

I gave her what probably ranks as the best advice I had ever given anybody:

Get a grip. You're not in love with any of them. You're in love with the concept of having a boyfriend. It's an awesome image, I know. That's why you are so in love with that image.

Two weeks after hearing my wisdomous words and agreeing with it, she hooked up with B.

I just love it when people take heed of my wisdom.


Thursday, August 18, 2005

how to behave in airports - arrivals

I picked up my family from Heathrow airport last month when they came over to visit me. As I stood with the rest of the crowd behind the barriers, waiting for them to emerge from the arrival gates, I noticed a lot of things that had always bugged me.

You see those 'No Entry' signs hanging there? It means you're not supposed to enter that area to wait there. But usually, parents let their stupid kids roam around that area usually waiting for their mum or dad to come out of those gates. Sometimes, the grown-ups even join their kids as they wait for their spouse to arrive.

I saw many such incidences like that while I was waiting, but since I did not have my camera on me at that time, here is an awesome recreation of how the scene looked like :

Ok, cool. We have a loving family that paints a touching picture. Husband goes away on a long business trip....When he returns, the faithful wife and his loving kids go to the airport to welcome him home. What's wrong with that?

Well, those 'no-entry' signs are there for a reason. It's so that you don't block the damn exit. When you stand in the middle of the corridor, and start hugging and kissing your spouse, and when each of your four goddamn kids do the same, you block everybody behind you and cause a traffic jam. It's not just you who is excited to greet your loved ones. Everybody exiting from the airport wants to go somewhere.

Moral of the story : Be considerate. By causing a traffic jam, you are holding up other people who also can't wait to get home to their loved ones.

Oh yeah.....while waiting for my family, a plane from an Arabian country had just landed. As you would guess it, pretty soon loads of women in their full body black burkas were wheeling their trollies out.

Here's something for you to think about :

There was this group of three women in burkas travelling together. They were of around the same height and same body size. There was only one trolley, pushed by the one in the middle, and all three bags were on that trolley. There were three guys waiting for them, all their husbands, I expect. When the guys saw them, they went over to hug/greet them. But how did they know who was who under the burkas?

*answer in tomorrow's post*

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Tuesday, August 16, 2005

victims of war?

Every year, as Asians 'celebrate' anniversary of Japan's war surrender, there is the inevitable question of whether Japan recognises their past mistakes. Every year, they read back their same speech of apology and repeat their proclaimation of regret. And every year, they never fail to outrage people when their leaders visit the Yasukuni war shrine to pay tribute to the soldiers who died for their country.

But I question....why the fuss over something that happened 60 years ago?

Every country has a war shrine of some sorts, and everybody pays tribute to their countrymen killed in wars. So why is it any different that Japan are not allowed to commemerate their dead soldiers, just because there are 14 so called war criminals enshrined there as well?

On the topic of war criminals, isn't ironic that human beings can commit the ultimate atrocity of killing each other......and still find the time to prosecute the losers for 'ungentlemanly war conduct'? But hey, in wars, the good thing about being on the winnning side is that you get to write the history books.

During my recent holidays in Germany, I met an old German guy, a friend of my dad's. It's hard not to bring up the subject of war when sightseeing in Germany. In the large cities, you will be hard pressed to find buildings older than 60 years old. Why? Buildings older than that were flattenned by bombs.

So anyways, I was in the town of Freiburg where that German guy was our tour guide, telling us many stories of the war. Freiburg is a small town south of Germany, bordering Switzerland and about half an hour from Basel. There were no industrial activities in Freiburg, and geographically, being a town bordering the neutral Switzerland, it was of no military significance. However, nearing the end of the war, Freiburg was flattened by a series of bombings by Allied troops. Relatively untouched for most of the war, the civilians were unprepared. As many as 5000 people died in one night, all for a town which was of no use to either side.

He also ranted on and on about how history books seem to forget mentioning the days in Germany after liberation. Allied troops committed the same atrocities as the Nazis, he claimed. They robbed, looted and raped the Germans. "Here's something to be quiet about," he whispered, "6 million Jews....that's an exaggeration. But if the police hears you disputing that figure, they throw you in jail." This is where the Germans and the Japanese government differ in stark contrast. The Germans admitted to every accusation thrown at them as an effort to show the world that they have learned their lesson. The Japanese don't seem to give in that easily.

Of course, only a fool would believe everything he said. He is, afterall German. He did, afterall see his father get thrown in jail by the Allied forces for spreading propoganda. But if the same applies, then surely the history books are biased too? I remember learning about this in school, and questioning, WHY did World War II start? My teacher told me that it was because Germany invaded Poland in 1939.

Of course, it was true, but Sejarah Tingkatan Empat doesn't teach kids to think further into that subject. They skimmed through the issue just a little, but never making an emphasis on the Versailles Treaty after World War I. WW2 was just a menifestation of that treaty. Hitler was so pissed with the treatment that Germany received (as opposed to Italy), that he became obsessed with 'evening the odds', and that is why he went to war.

Back to Japan, realise that most of the hoo-hah comes from China and South Korea, two countries which have centuries old rivalry with Japan, and hence the bad blood. You could argue that they were the ones who bore the brunt of Japan's brutalities during the war, but surely it is all in the past, where one could argue that mankind was more barbaric? Why the fuss over leaders visiting a shrine? Why the anger over the Japanese 'not facing up to their past'?

Time heals all. In another 20 years, nobody alive could say that they fought in the war. Only a handful of people could say that they remember the war at all. If there is an insistance that Japan should face their past, then surely the rest of the world should also stop harbouring on past deeds and look to the future, and let time engulf this whole mess..


Monday, August 15, 2005

king of crap

An old Malaysian legend has it that studying medicine is pretigeous and elitist. As a result, I seem to know a lot of medical students. Personally, I hate biology and hence ruling me out of ever being a good doctor. However, there are some stuffs which I find interesting about the field of medicine and take it upon myself to do some self-study into that matter.

For instance, when it comes to dispensing drugs, my parents for some reason seem to know a shit load about what medicine you should take for what illness. As a result, some of that knowledge gets passed on to me. Also, since I love that fine drink called alcohol, I can also tell you how alcohol affects your body (better than most doctors can, I believe).

Anyway, as you would already know, I like annoying people. My friend Maggie was studying for her upcoming Pharmacology exams when I decided to have fun and ask her to ask me about some medicines. Somehow, she ended up explaining to me how Viagra works. I reciprocrated by drawing some detailed (and awesome) pictures of an engineering invention of mine which you MUST see.

Anyway, that reminded me of a time when one of my medic friends was busy with an assignment and I was bugging her on ICQ. She was having problems sourcing information on that topic, so I offered to help. She told me to bugger off because it was was beyond my scope. I told her that her first year med school was easy peanuts.

So, she told me the topic of her assignment - to investigate the causes of MI.

Aaah, MI.......

So, I humoured her.

MI, I said, is the effect of blood sugar levels becoming too high in your blood, causing the Amoxylic acids to rise. The liver, sensing this imbalance releases endorphines and adrenaline to counter that effect. However, for people with an acute iron deficiency, this leads to 'hyperactive' behaviour. Prolonged 'hyperactivity' without treatment causes liver and kidney failure, leading to MI.

My friend's reaction wasn't that of a happy person. I was berated upon for spewing such nonsense, much to my amusement actually, because if I were in her shoes, I would have at least spared myself a laugh or so..

Much later only did I find out that MI stands for myocardial infraction, more commonly known as a heart attack.


Friday, August 12, 2005

speaking my peace

Browsing through Petaling Street the other day, I spotted a ping entitled 'My Cock'. Nothing unusual, I thought. Lots of people title their articles with so called interesting titles to attract free clicks.

I clicked.

I blinked.

Right in front of me, a dick was staring back at my face. Complete with pubes and veins. There wasn't a story to it or anything, just a picture of the dick and a one line caption below it. That's it. Not a piece of literature, or an expression of his feelings....just a dick, nothing less.

According to the website, Project Petaling Street's first objective is to :
"Create and sustain an interest and awareness in blogging among Malaysians of all ages and races."

I would say that they excelled in creating an interest and awareness. They triumphed, and as a Malaysian blog portal, they are peerless. With all the publicity in the press on blogs, suddenly everybody wants to be a blogger. Suddenly everybody reads blogs, because that is the IN thing to do.

When that happens, when people start doing things to follow the herd, things get messed up. That's because when you doing something without having a passion for it, it ultimately leads to a badly done job. And that is what we are left with these days - heaps and heaps of junk floating around in cyberspace passing themselves off as a member of the 'elite' blogging community.

Now, I am not one to tell you what you should or should not blog about. That's up for you to decide whether or not you, as the blogger are doing it because you have a passion for writting, or because you are doing it because all your friends are doing it. So you choose. You can put a picture of a dick on your blog, or write nonsensical movie reviews....I don't really care. Its your blog, you make the rules.

My beef lies elsewhere.

We are frequently told, especially those femes people, that with power (and fame) comes great responsibility. And if that is true, then I believe PPS now has a new responsibility. With all its publicity, it has become a hub for Malaysian blogs in the eyes of the Malaysian public, and indeed, the rest of the world. Because of that, like it or not, it mirrors the quality of Malaysian blogs.

But having a free-ping system, where users can post nonsensical ramblings and utterly ridiculous blogs for the sole purpose of starting flame wars, is clearly not the way to go. I can't speak for other people, but can't help to notice that a lot of good bloggers have stopped pinging PPS for a while now. Doesn't take much to figure out why, but whatever is left is sometimes so mediocre that it paints a sad and sorry picture of Malaysian blogs - a picture that is inaccurate to every extent.

The number of quality of Malaysian blogs has been stagnant. It has been as it was last year. As per the objective of PPS, we have already created an interest and awareness of blogs in the public's eyes. Time to sustain that interest then. With the current sorry state of affairs, that is not going to be possible.

This is why we need to identify good and quality posts and showcase those posts to the public. Only an elitist system would work. Keep the free pings system, if you please. But there has to be some moderation required. We need a group of people to moderate great articles, and post them for everybody to read. We need to have a portal with great articles which EVERYBODY can appreciate and aim to emulate.

You want people to read your blog but its not good enough to be showcased? Too damn bad.

Improve your writting first.

Then we all have to improve. Everybody wins.


Thursday, August 11, 2005

a lesson in forgiving people

Faith : It's pathetic to feel good about making someone feel bad.
Faith : That's like the lowest kind of wanking ever
Faith : Its like... you know
Faith : When you give someone a blowjob, you make someone happy
Faith : You become happy
Faith : But when you bash someone up and give him a black eye... takkan you feel happy
Faith : That's like so damn low, right
Vincent : Its just paria laa
Vincent : There's no way to justify it
Vincent : Somethings are so ultimately fucked up you cant make sense out of it
So the story goes....my friend Faith got backstabbed by some asshole. She was pretty upset, and rightly so. If I were in her shoes, I would stop at nothing till I get to taste that bastard's blood on my tongue. Come to think of it, I am quite dangerous. I mean, like...I tortured a bee because it was stupid. I also thought of breaking somebody's kneecaps because of something he did 5 years ago that 'crippled me'.

But anyway, Faith, being a goody girl and a staunch Christian (who incidentally just gave me a copy of the Satanic bible for my reading pleasure) had a different take to all that.
Faith : Dunno don't want to get all gospel.
Faith : But times like this I understand why jesus said, 'forgive them father, they do not know.'
Vincent : Yeah.........
Vincent : Or just forgive them, for they have no brains
Faith even went on to provide me with the actual excerpt from the Bible :
Luke 23:24 'Then said Jesus, 'Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.'

So things were looking good. Faith wasn't too upset already. Assholes forgiven and everything...it was a happy day...Sun shinning brightly, birds chirping....(only that you guys can't really see the sun because of the haze, and the birds are probably suffocating). Until, of course, she came up with the best anology of it :
Vincent : That time Jesus hanging on the cross
Vincent : Gonna die
Vincent : Got no power to forgive ppl
Faith : Yeah...
Faith : Now that I'm looking at it
Faith : He went 'forgive them father, they do not know'
Faith : Actualy its not he forgive, he ask his father to forgive...you think he bodoh ah...these kinda people also want to forgive meh?
And so, we learn a new lesson today : If somebody fucked you over, it is in your full right to retaliate and take your revenge. Leave the forgiving part up to God.


so wrong

This, taken off the blog of a friend who is in Form 5 (without permission, but who cares, eh?)

I am surprised he aimed at ONLY 95%. Where's your ambition dude? You need to aim for the sky to break that meagre 17A's record!

At the rate things are going, I am going to have a field day next year when the SPM results are out.

Sidenote to dude : You'se gots to chill man..you'se just gots to.


Wednesday, August 10, 2005

wish upon a shooting star

My friend Kim blogged about her first ever sighting of a shooting star yesterday. Girls, being girls, she got all excited about it. Not because it was possibly a lump of rock embedded with some iron oxide (and possibly some alien fossils as well), but because of the awesome wonder of a star, streaking across the naked sky. I suppose it would be fair to grant her that awe of a childish wonder, a shooting star with all its romantisism.

I was in a playful (read : evil) mood this morning when I had a chat with her on MSN :

Vincent : Hate to dissapoint you, but its probably the NASA shuttle
Vincent : Hahaha
Kimi : Can see from UK meh???
Vincent : They are circling the earth before landing
Kimi : Can't be that much of a coincidence...can it?
Vincent : It MIGHT be a star la
Vincent : If your wish comes true then its a star la
Vincent : Otherwise its just a bunch of yanks
Kimi : I didn't really make a wish
Vincent : Oh so then its a bunch of yanks
Kimi : ....
Kimi : Thank you for ruining the moment....... you arh!!!
Vincent : Glad to be of service
Kimi : *grumble grumble grumble
Kimi : Men...
Kimi : Or it's probably only just you
Vincent : Its just me
Vincent : Nobody else would have thought of it
Kimi : Bleah, so it's the NASA shuttle
Vincent : Hhaha
Vincent: You could still vehemently deny it and say that its a star
Kimi : I think I will
Kimi : C'mon....a meteorite sounds so much nicer than a space shuttle
Kimi : And it's my first!!!
Vincent : Think of it this way...lots of ppl see shooting stars
Vincent : You just saw 7 yanks in space
Vincent : 7 ugly yanks
Vincent : Oh, no wait
Vincent : I just checked CNN
Vincent : Its actually 5 Yanks, an Aussie and a Jap
Vincent : One hell of an awesome star, don't you think?
Kimi : .......

Just so you know, I am actually quite evil. I once told my 4 year old cousin that eating too many sweets would make him as fat as Santa. I told him that if you were as fat as Santa, you won't get any presents for Xmas. As a result, he is probably the only kid of that generation not to have ever tasted Nano Nano sweets.


Tuesday, August 09, 2005

how to behave in airports - checking in

While travelling last month, there were loads of things that successfully irritated me. At the airport, one of the most irritating things centered around the check-in counters.


This was a scene at the Manchester airport MAS check-in counter when I sent my parents and brother off. Do you see any order? There are trollies everywhere with groups and groups of people around. After saying screaming "excuse me" like ten times only did the nosey Malay lady get out of the way so that my dad could push his trolley to the counter.

If you aren't travelling, stay away from the check-in counter. There are enough people around. No need to be so nosey. You don't need to crowd up the place and block actual travellers from getting to the desk. Let the people who are travelling do the actual check in. If you aren't travelling, go sit in McDonalds and wait for them.

If you are travelling in a large group, you don't need all ten people at the check-in counter at the same time. Actually, you can even just assign one person to check in for everybody. Passport control is not done at the check-in desk. All they need to do is ask people whether they packed the bags themselves, something they only ask at the end. So, kindly stand behind the line and away from the damn counter till the point where they want to ask you the questions. That's just courtesy so you don't block everybody else.

Next, trollies take up a lot of space. If you have one bag, put the damn trolley aside. The trolley is to get from the carpark/train station to the departure hall. Once you start queuing up, ditch the trolley. You can wheel your stupid bag to the check in counter. If you are the kinda person who has a shit load of bags and have to use the trolley, then be courteous and line up your trolley properly at the counter. Scroll back up to the picture. That is a bad example of how to place your trolleys. Don't do that!

Key point here is courtesy. If you don't place your trolleys properly, it makes it really hard for other people to get to the counter, and hence making people in the queue wait longer.

Oh, by the way, did anybody realise anything cool about the above picture? Go back up and have a look again. We Malaysians are wonderful.........


We truly are a bunch of multi cultural dickheads.

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Monday, August 08, 2005

a human i would torture

I had a nice post that I was going to put up, you know, something funny that would distract people from my psychotic rage shown over the last 3 posts. But something came up, so screw it......this is a BitchingLOG anyway.

I was playing basketball this afternoon and I successfully busted my ankle, to the point where an 87 year old grandmother with crooked bones could walk faster than myself. Quite a fucked up injury if you ask me.. I did play a bit of squash for the last few months, but the last time I played a serious game was way back in December where I played some futsal and ended up busting my ankle.

Sports injuries are a bitch because you have to sit out while watching your friends have fun. Its nothing new for me actually. I used to play a shit load of sports before my injuries. When I was in school, from Standard 4 right up to Form 5, I used to play football everyday after school for one hour. Ever since Standard 4, I played with the same group of people. Some other kids would occasionally join in the game and we would of course let them join the fun.

One fine day when I was in Form 5, one newbie wanted to join the fun and play with us. There is not a thing that I will forget about that asshole. His name was Vincent (not me, but a disgrace to the name if you ask me). I still remember the bastard's face as if he had just passed me on the street just now. Bespectacled kid, scruffy hair and seriously bad teeth. He sucked at football. After a while, and not being able to grab the ball, he got pissed offed and started sliding at people to try to win the ball.

Sliding tackles are a big no-no in playground football. They are extremely dangerous if executed wrongly. Even professionals mistime sliding tackles all the time. In all my years playing football, I have NEVER EVER slide tackled anybody because it is something that if not exceuted properly can cause an injury, not to yourself, but to someone else.

So, as you would guess it, I was on the ball and had passed it when out of nowhere, this bastard came along and mowed me down with both his feet. If he did exactly the same thing in a fighting ring, it would have been called a perfectly executed flying kick at BOTH my ankles.

I didn't walk for a week.

For 2 years, everytime I wanted to run, I had to wear an ankle guard. Failing to do that would result in severe muscle strain and I would be limping for days. Now, everytime I play a game, I have to warm up like crazy, like a professional, or I would strain my muscles again. It seems that now, after the last injury in December, my ankle is quite badly screwed. No more sports for another half a year, I guess.....

All because of a fucking stupid kid who couldn't play ball. I swear, if I saw that guy on the streets (and trust me, I will recognise the fucker's face - I see it everytime I get an injury) I would do something that I should have done on the spot that faithful day. For starters, a punch to the jaw to remove some of those bad teeth. After that, I could fulfil my lifelong curiosity of wondering what a shattering knee cap sounds like.....


Sunday, August 07, 2005


It has been pointed out to me by a fair number of people that my act of torturing the bee (I have since been advised that it is a wasp, and not a bee) was crazy, evil, sadistic and indespicable. Some of my friends even took the trouble to message me on MSN to tell me that. I am also sure that many people thought so too, but didn't comment on it. Well, I agree that it was crazy, evil, sadistic and indespicable. But I also think that the bee was crazy, evil, sadistic and indespicable.

How's that?

My argument is plain and simple.

You see Godzilla trashing around the city. He just killed Ultraman. Civilians are defenseless against that mutated lizard scum. He accidentally steps in your house. I say accidentally because, well, he is Godzilla and he is huge and clumsy. He can't seem to place his foot anywhere without stepping on some poor soul's house. That poor soul is you.

Do you :

1) Get the fuck away as fast as you can
2) Run up to him, jump on his leg like you mount a hot chickhorse, and punch him in the leg

Then some of you proceeded to tell me that the little bugger was a bee. It wouldn't have the logic to know not to mess with a creature a million times larger than himself. Or so you claim.

But I digress......

It doesn't need logic. It doesn't need a huge brain. It already has what all living creatures have - instinct. Every living creature knows that you do not fuck around with something else larger than yourself, especially if that thing is MUCH MUCH larger than yourself. Its an instinct they use for survival.

When I was a little kid, I was even more evil (I am not as evil now). I used to go around the garden looking for ants and burning them with a joss stick (I don't do that now). As soon as you burn the first ant, the other ants run like hell. The don't try to be heroes trying to bite me. They just run like crazy.

Same thing here.

Its not about the brains or the logic the bee has. It was just being kuailan. And I was being, well, me.


Friday, August 05, 2005

suffer, you asshole

*gruesome post....animal lovers - fuck off and don't bitch*

After typing the previous article, I prepared to go to bed. It is a pretty warm night, so I decided to open the windows. Off to brush my teeth, and when I came back to my room, I switched off the light and jumped into bed.

Immediately, I jumped back up in pain because something just stabbed a burning needle into my leg. In a split second reflex reaction, I grabbed whatever it was and threw it on the ground. Still hopping around in pain, I reached for the lights and found a bee buzzing around on the floor, seemingly injured. It must have gotten injured when I grabbed it off my leg. I was about to reach for my book and smash it into pulp, when I had a better idea.

Still smarting from the pain, I picked up the little asshole and placed him on my table. Killing him would be too easy an escape from punishment. I would leave him there suffering in pain while I checked my wound. Powering up google, I searched for first aid on treating bee stings.

Remove the sting, it said.

Sting? What sting? I don't see any sting. I check the bee's ass. Nope, don't see any sting there either. The guide also told me to apply some stuffs like meat tenderiser and water mix (?!!?) Well, I don't have any meat tenderiser lying around, so I guess I'll have to bear with the pain.

Back to the little bastard. It was, like all scum insect are when they are helpless.....fixed in one spot moving their legs around like as though to tell you that they are in pain. Guess what, asshole? Feel my pain!

I decide that death is too easy for him, and torture is good. He did, afterall manage to postpone my sleep. So....being a sadistic evil fuck, I ripped off one of his wings and watch him squirm like crazy. Then, I grabbed my scissors and cut off one small part of his antenna, but he didn't squirm that time....so I learnt a new lesson - there aren't any pain receptors in a bee's antenna.

See that little black thing near the severed wing? That's part of the antenna.

At the moment, he is still squirming around as I type this. I won't kill him. Maybe when I wake up, and if I am in a good mood, I'll end his misery....

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figuratively speaking

Let's say you have a house.

You're not very rich, but its a beautiful house and you get to do whatever you want to do with it. You raise your family according to your values and everybody is happy with that.

Then you see your rich neighbour's house down the road. The parents there are a little messed up, you think. They raise their kids in a funny way. You don't like it, so you go over and volunteer to babysit their little kid so that you can impose your values onto them. At the same time, you bring over your own kids to your neighbour's house so that they make use of the PS2 over there.

All this goes on for a while, until the neighbour's kids get pissed offed that their house is being intruded upon. They can't seem to monopolise their PS2 even though it belongs to them. They wonder how come they have to share it with your kids.

Suddenly, everybody realises that your intention wasn't to babysit the kids. Your intention was to let your own kids enjoy using the PS2, something that you don't have at home. Kids, being kids get angry and retaliate. So the neighbour's kids start beating up your little ones everyday. And there's really nothing much you can do as a parent because kids will always find their way to do something nasty. Its the simple law of the playground.

You angrily report this matter to your neighbour, but really, do you expect him to be able to do anything? He could ground his kids, yes, but as long as your own kids are in his house, there is no way to seperate them is there? And then, the naughty boys propose a truce.

"Get your kids to stay out of my house and away from our PS2 and we won't beat them up anymore!"

Every goddamn person I know would keep their kids where they belong - in their own house. Unfortunately, that's not how stuff works in the real world. In the real world, the more your kid gets beaten up, the more defiant you get saying that you weren't in the wrong in the first place. Well, it doesn't matter who is wrong or right. What matters is that your poor kid gets beaten up everyday, you dumbass.

*Never mind if you don't understand what I am talking about, you'll have read it in today's news anyway*


Wednesday, August 03, 2005

before you leave

Having been here in the UK for a good 3 years now, I have grown accustommed to a few things and take a lot of things here for granted. There are stuffs I should do but never did. This article is for any of you studying overseas.

Here are some stuffs you could do before you leave the country and go back to Malaysia and will never have the chance to these stuffs again. Its not critical that you do them, but it would make a good story for your grandkids when you are old...

Forget that you are a student and pretend to be a tourist.

On a weekend, go out and do some touristy stuffs. When you run into a copper on the street, stop him and ask to take a picture with him. See if you can borrow his cool hat. Take photos of random inane objects like the train station. If you are the type of person who has done all that, then try going around pretending that you are a Chinaman tourist who doesn't speak a word of English.

I have been to many European countries without being able to speak their local language. Yet, I survived. Somehow, I feel that you will be quite in deep shit if you land in the UK or the USA without knowing a single word of English and with no guide to take you around. So, try that one day. Try going around without speaking a single word of English. Go to a restaurant and order beef....only you can't read English menu. So, try making some 'moo moo' sounds and putting your fingers on your head like horns.

Buy condoms from one of those condom vending machines you find in public toilets.

If you have already done that, my guess is that you bought it when there wasn't anybody around. Well, now buy it when the toilet is full of people. Better yet, pretend that you can't figure out how to use the machine and get someone to help you. Preferably a gay looking metrosexual bloke. Open the pack while acting in a hurry. Throw the box away and run out of the toilet. After that, feel good about yourself that you managed to get some random strangers to smile.

Have a chat with a homeless bloke.

Sure, you could do that in Malaysia.......but here, I find homeless people more amusing. In the UK, your best bet would be to chat with a Big Issue seller. Big Issue is a magazine printed by the government for the homeless people to sell so that they can make money off the commision from sales. Ask him where he lives, and he'll probably tell you something like 'in front of HSBC'. Literally. Have a long hearty 10 minute chat (trust me, they usually don't have anything better to do and would oblige a chat). Before you leave, tell him to keep in touch. Give him your email addresss.

Go to a bar and pick up an angmoh chick.

I find it really weird that there are loads of Asian girls with white boyfriends, but I only know of one Asian bloke with a white chick. Somebody once told me it is because those angmoh cocks are bigger. But I disagree. True that Chinese have generally smaller dicks (I am an anomily) than the rest of the people from other gene pools (except the smaller Japs), but in general its true that angmoh chicks have bigger milk jugs too. So if the first logic holds true, then there should be a lot of guys wanting to hook up with angmoh chicks too. My conclusion......you guys aren't trying hard enough to bone a white chick!

Buy a 'top of the shelf' magazine.

In the olden days, as a kid, porn magazines were like the holy grail. We didn't have the Internet back then you see. These days, people hardly buy porn magazines anymore. I mean....why BUY still photos when you can download movies for free? Still, shops still sell porn magazines. And they usually keep it on the top shelf. Go ahead, just for fun.......go to your nearest newsagent and pick up a copy. Any copy will do. Its just so that in the future when all the porn magazine companies go bust and porn magazines run out of circulation, you can tell your grandchildren that you actuall bought one before.

If you are the stingy type....well, porn magazines aren't cheap. In order to get your money's worth, you might want to slowly browse through those magazines flipping the pages and comparing each one. Just be sure that you are wearing some tight briefs that keep the little soldier from standing at attention.

BK's double bacon cheeseburger and fries

Go to Burger King and order as many double bacon cheeseburgers as you can. They are the BEST burgers in the world, all because of the two slices of bacon in it. You'll never get it in Malaysia for the simple reason that its not halal, so eat as much as you can until can remember the taste. After that, eat as many packets of fries as you can. I don't know what they put in it, but Burger King UK's fries are the best fries in the world. Eat to your heart's content and think about what you are missing everytime you eat those shitty McDonalds fries.


Tuesday, August 02, 2005

whatever floats your boat

A friend of mine seems a bit gutted that he found some porn in his brother's room. Gay porn, to be precise. Because of his snooping around and subsequent discovery, he came to a conclusion that his brother is gay.

I haven't had the chance to talk to him, but upon discussion with a couple of our friends, we came up with a few justifications for all that gay porn. Basically, every other dude gets his lollies by watching different stuffs. I don't think porn watched by a certain dude reflects his real life preference. That's because porn is just an imagination, a fantasy that never happens.

Its like if a guy watches lesbian porn................sure as hell doesn't make him a lesbian. I also know a bloke who used to buy animal porn (disgusting as it may sound) but I don't think he went around screwing his Great Dane after that.

Basically, when it comes to these kinda stuffs.....whatever floats your boat la...

So dude, I know you are reading this.........chill la, he might not be gay after all.

*On a sidenote, I'll slap the next guy who tells me that gay people were 'born that way'


Monday, August 01, 2005

angmoh cock

When I announced a month ago that I was going on holiday, Minishorts and Fuckstress asked for a present. Fuckstress specified an angmoh.

I went one better and got an angmoh cock.

Portugal is famous for angmoh cocks