Monday, July 31, 2006

what would you do?

A farmer and his son are taking their donkey to the market to be sold. As they trudge along the dirt road guiding the donkey along the narrow path, they run into some villagers.

A villager shouts, "Old man you fool! Can't you see your son is struggling? What good is the donkey? Let the kid ride on the beast!"

The farmer gave some thought and thought it to be a good idea. So, he let his little son ride on the donkey, and off they were down the dirt path. They didn't get far till they got to another village, where they were rudely interrupted.

"Oi, you spoilt brat! Your poor father is exhausted and you are still riding on the donkey? Get on your young legs and let the old man take a break!"

And so, another logical suggestion, and another new course of action..........until the next town, of course.

"You idiots! A donkey is a beast of burden! Why don't the both of you mount it?"

Father and son smack themselves on the forehead. Of course! What a no-brainer! Why didn't we think of that earlier? Let's both get on the donkey and make our way to the market, pronto! They do just that, and as you would guess, they get more suggestions as they enter the town in which they are to sell the beast.

"You fools! The donkey looks tired! How are you going to fetch a good price for it? Best you carry it on your shoulders to the market place!"

And as the story goes, hearing so many suggestions and possibilities, father and son take this into account and it makes just as much sense as the rest. They figure - they've tried everything, so why not give it a shot?

So, father and son both carry the said donkey on their backs and to the market place they went. Of course, as you would imagine, everybody laughed at them on the way and in the end, nobody would buy the donkey because they all thought the donkey was so weak that it had to be carried.

Take this as a prelude for my next post. I haven't written anything of substance in a fairly long time and I am actually struggling with it. I think it is safe to say that everybody knows the moral of the story.

But knowing what the story tells you is moot if you don't know how to apply it in real life. Some of you will look at this as a normal Aesop Fable that you heard of a million times when you were a kid. Others will look at this and understand where I am going with all this.

Seriously though, before I write the next post, I am actually quite interested to hear what you would have done with the donkey. Would people's suggestions have affected you? Did the last reasoning of 'not making the donkey look tired' seem reasonable?


Friday, July 28, 2006

engineer wanted

You prolly don't understand this, but I just thought of it and I think it is pretty funny (if you get it, of course) - especially if you are a Field Engineer and you don't like the bane of Aircond Engineers.

No explainations provided - I am not in the mood of having my head bitten off by some people I know.

Vacancy Available

Position title : Heat Exchanger Engineer

Qualifications : Fresh graduates, preferably a female who has nice manicured fingers

Job Scope :
1) To co-ordinate the commissioning, start-up and shut down of the office Heat Exchangers.
2) To configure the temperature rise and temperature drop on the Heat Exchangers.
3) To monitor the air flow by calibrating the angle of the exit guide vanes.


confused souls

I noticed there are a lot of confused people going around pretending they know what they are doing. These buggers seem like a kangaroo that found itself in a jungle.

1) We don't like the mainstream news and prefer an 'alternative' view.

*knocks an asshole dead cold on the head with a sledgehammer*

Hello, mainstream news IS alternative you fucktard. Alternative from yours, that is.

2) Free speech is good! We want to promote 'intellectual' discussions on our blog!

Eh, fuck you la. Intellectual your mum la. When I first started blogging, I thought I could have some kinda cool forum thingy going around in here. It didn't take me long to learn that the Internet is full of idiots. You can NEVER get have any sort of intellectual shit here. The epitome of 'intellectual' blogs is Papa Jeff's of course where you would think sensible people hang out. Apparently not, because some people there think it is possible to sell electricity like a fish in the market and also to export our excess electricity to Cambodia.

3) You disagree with me! You must benefit from the government's policies! You must be an MCA crony!

So does that make you a DAP crony or something?

So you see, when you read blogs of (a lot) of idiots out there, sometimes you don't quite know what to expect.

My blog?

Few things are a dead cert:

1) I advocate free speech....for myself.
2) I am right. If you disagree with me, you are wrong.
3) On second thoughts, you are not allowed to disagree with me.
4) This is because you are most probably a fucking idiot, and I am a genius.


Wednesday, July 26, 2006

any questions?

I think the most telling thing about our education system is the spoon-feeding of information to the students. Spoon-feeding does not produce thinkers. It produces doers. In most from the classrooms of school to the lecture halls of university, I think most of us will willingly admit that we have been spoon-fed too much.

At the end of every class or lecture, there would be the customary, "Any questions?" question by the teacher or the lecturer. It seems harmless, really, but that is spoon feeding as well. A lecture could be an hour long. An hour's worth of information is tremendous, and there is no way a student can process all that information (while also listening to the lecturer continue to ramble on in front) and then think of a good question to ask.

At that point, it is safe to say that anybody who asks questions would probably ask stupid questions. An old boss of mine one told me that there was no such thing as a stupid question - only a stupid assumption that arises from that 'stupid question' not being asked. But I digress. Any question that did not require effort or thought is a stupid question.

In my world, teachers in school would go, "If you have any questions, go home and think about it. If you still have a question after that, then you may ask me."

Now, if you go back and read my first line again, I mentioned 'education system' and 'students'. This is by no means limited to students in school and university. We learn something new everyday - even at work, even at home. Such is the cancer of the education system that we were brought up in that our work ethics pretty much dictate that an 'inquisitive' employee is a good one.

I say 'inquisitive' because these are the people who ask questions all the time. At every job I have been at - from my internships as a trainee engineer, to my first job, and to my current job - every boss, every superior, every more experienced person has encouraged me to ask questions. "Jangan takut nak tanye....banyak yang I tak tau jugak." Kudos to everybody who has been helpful. Still, asking questions is not a habit that I enjoy.

You can perhaps call it arrogance - maybe I don't like showing people that I don't know things. Maybe. I like to think of it more as an opportunity to learn things on my own. When I first left to the UK, loads of my friends hunted down their seniors to enquire what I can only describe as inane questions in preparation for their 'trip into the unknown'. When I became a senior myself, there were many times when people asked me questions that I hated. "Is it cold there?"

I don't think it is but everybody complains it is. How the fuck would I know what you define 'cold'? Here's a hint, retard,...check the weather on the Internet!

Forgive the supposed arrogance again. Forgive the atasan mentality. I am an engineer. It is my job to figure out stuffs. Figuring out stuffs is what gives me the kick. It is my coke. That is why I look upon engineers who take the easy way out by asking questions with great distaste.

A : This is an aeroplane. It can fly.
B : How does it fly?

Wrong question, asshole. You should say, "Uh-huh" and then go home and google search aeroplanes. You are permitted to come back the next day and ask about Bernoulli's theorem and Newton's 3rd law if you still don't get it. Key point here is effort. You make an effort to figure something out. You make an effort to explore something and learn it for yourself. ASK ONLY AFTER YOU MADE THE EFFORT TO GET THE ANSWER YOURSELF.

In all my time working, I have only been angered once. I was new at the old job, and my boss thought it would be a good idea to let me sit in a workshop amongst some managers and foremen discussing the best way to improve productivity among the factory staff. Of course, being new and knowing nuts, I wasn't expected to give any input on things - I was supposed to sit in and try to absorb as much information as I could. What was expected, though, were questions - because apparently, that is the best way to learn something.

For the first two days of the three day workshop, people kept asking me, "Any questions Vincent?" Are you sure? Don't be shy. We can't know everything. By the 3rd day, they had gotten fed-up of my customary, "No questions" and they stopped asking. At the end of the workshop, one of the managers approached me with a little advice, "You can't get around learning anything if you don't ask questions. You have to be more inquisitive." Well, I am sorry, asshole. I DO ask questions. I ask myself those questions and then I hunt down the answers myself. And I sure as hell know I learnt more than the other idiot engineer who asked, "Why can't we improve our production rate by just buying more machines?"

I say all this because I spent the last two days trying to figure out some stuffs on my own when I could have gotten an answer in half an hour had I asked someone. Yes, I took a shit of a long time but in the process, I learnt about A LOT of other things which I wouldn't have otherwise learnt.


Sunday, July 23, 2006


You know, this issue has been nagging at me for ages now. If there is one flaw with me, it would be the fact that I cannot let somethings go. Don't get me wrong, I usually let go of things easily. I don't grief much over tragedies. I get over heartaches easily. I reckon my best trait is that I just look at a look at a lot of things and go, "Fuck it."

But still, there are also things I look at and just cannot let go off. Mostly these are issues related to people talking rubbish without knowing they are doing just that. When I am in a good mood, I say, "Look, that's not true mate." Otherwise, I go,"You are talking rubbish mate." And if it gets really bad, its always the case of, "Shut the fuck up la."

It is a disease. I acknowledge that. I just cannot ignore it when someone thinks they know loads, and babbles rubbish. What's even worse is the fact that people actually believe that same rubbish. I blog on the mantra that I know what I am talking about before I actually say it. In the two years writing rubbish on the net, I would like to think that every piece of factual information I have written on it is true. I have never written something I wasn't sure about, but of course, a particular legion of minions of a certain papa-blogger would like to think otherwise, but like I said, it's all a matter of who you want to believe.

But who am I to call myself the chief authority on any matter?

And that is the whole problem. There are loads of stuffs which I know to be a fact, which I try to convey to you, you, and you out there. I know myself to be right. You think not. You know yourself to be right. And so we are both stuck in our little world of recalcitrant behaviour. What I cannot accept are your opinions which I KNOW to be untrue and unfeasable. But because of the way I try to educate you, you brush it aside.

But again, who am I to call my opinion 'the right one'?

Someone online called me a 'cocky bastard' the other day. I was majorly amused because that in itself is as big a paradox as someone I know who describes himself as a 'modest person'. Modesty is a so-called 'good characteristic' in a person, so a modest person would never call themselves modest. Similarly, a cocky bastard like myself KNOWS he is a cocky bastard. I like to think of cockiness as someone being good and knowing it. Not everyone gets to be cocky you know. Idiots aren't called cocky, they are called empty tin cans.

I KNOW I am right.

Still, my downfall is my ever incessant need to right the wrong. Sometimes politely, but mostly cynically. Still, those cynical critisisms of the so called muppets is my way of keeping my sanity. But you cry, "Oooh free speech is GOOD. We encourage free speech! You have a right to an opinion, but you can't be cynical when you critisize us!" You know who says that the most? The typical journalist wannabes and the JeffOoi wannabes (although why anybody wants to be him is totally beyond my scope of understanding).

You are nothing but an armchair critic. How do you think yourself qualified comment on things like fuel hikes? There are complicated mechanisms behind things like that. Things that many people in the industry do not understand, yet how do you think that you, as a random bloke on the street are familiar with? You say that my rage is unjustified. How would you feel if you were a teacher in school and after painstakingly teaching your students that 1 + 2 = 3, and some random looney managed to convince some kids that 1 + 2 is actually 12? And if you let it go on even more, soon the so random looney goes on and tells ALL the kids that it is actually 12.

And the longer and longer you let it be, more and more kids get convinced that 1 + 2 = 12 and we end up with looneys walking the streets. And sooner or later you have the breeded looneys going around spreading word that the teacher is lying and that 1 + 2 = 13. There is nothing you can do but start at the source and bash the fucker's already thick skull with a sledgehammer. And then you have to painstakingly approach all the breeded looneys and cure them, and if that doesn't work out, then you settle for the sledgehammer again.

Goddamit. I just lost it again.

You see, we all have our own kryptonites. This is mine.


Saturday, July 22, 2006

happy chappy

They say happy people sleep well at night.

Happy people don't get nightmares and don't even have happy dreams because they are content with everything and there isn't any need to fantasize over anything else.

I slept like a baby last night....until I woke up this morning and remembered that I had to go to work full day on a Saturday. Still, it was a great day and I can't remember the last time I was so content.

It is Sunday tomorrow, but I shall be working normal office hours. In fact, I shall be working 7 days a week for the next few weeks. It's really not that bad. There are a shit load of stuffs to be done, but it is true what people say - find a job you love and you never have to work a single day in your life.

I think I shall have another dreamless sleep tonight.


Thursday, July 20, 2006

selling souls

I spent the better part of last night watching Pirates. Contrary to popular belief, hick town can be quite happening if the stowns are in the mood for it. Like yesterday, the cinema was sold out for all 3 shows at night.

Pirates wasn't a great show. It was more of a cool show. It was funny, it had ugly people, beautiful people, had the right amounts of fighting - all the necessary stuffs for a cool show. Best of all, I love shows that make you think a little.

The show centered pretty much on the question of 'how far are you willing to go to sell your soul?' - both figuratively and literally. How far are you willing to go to betray your friends for your benefit? How big a sacrifice are you willing to make for your loved one? How much suffering are you prepared to endure to ensure a better future?

The credits rolled, the awesome theme song played, and I walked out of the cinema. Walking out alongside me were a rather odd couple. We've all seen them before. The guy - a white guy who was fat and ugly walking hand in hand with a young pretty Asian girl. We all know the deal behind that. He is lonely and wants her for her meat. She is poor and wants him for the greenbacks.

Don't get me wrong. As much as I think it is disgusting, it is not my life to dictate and certainly not my place to question their intentions. I have mentioned this before. Everybody makes their own choices, and everybody does what they need to do. Kay and I have talked about this till wits end before - and we both came to a conclusion that we wouldn't do it, ever. Except for a small BUT. But we have never been put in such a situation. We have never faced such a predicament. Put any of us in their shoes, and any one of us (including you out there) might just do it if we are desperate enough.

Still, this was a little weird for me. This guy was ugly. He was fat and bald. Never mind that. A lot of people are fat and bald. He was crude. He looked like a roughneck bulldog. He wasn't that well dressed, and I guess that he probably isn't that rich in the first place. The girl isn't exactly the sweetest young thing you would see either. We usually get flusterred when we see such situations because the girl is usually so hot she could have any guy she wanted. Not her though. She was young, yes. But she wasn't that attractive. A bit chubby, too. But that didn't mean that she should settle for a bulldog.

He tried to have a conversation with her about the movie - with the most appropriate line, "It's about how far you are willing to go to sell your soul." She didn't reply a word. He's a Scouser. No doubt about that. You could recognise the accent from a million miles away. I had problems understanding him. I doubt a stown girl would. She nodded her head in agreement. She probably nodded along to a lot of things he said - most definately in bed too.

For the record, I shall say that my heart wept for her. Everybody should have the chance to go out with someone they really love. Nobody should have to stoop so low. She did. You could probably say that he did too. But you see, I am saying all this because I have never been thrust into that situation. I hope I will never be. And that set my mind thinking really deeply. What if ONE day...ONE day I find myself in their shoes. What if one day you found yourself in their shoes?


How far are you willing to go to sell your soul?


Tuesday, July 18, 2006


I now know why we face the problems of dirty toilets.

It's because some jakuns stuck in the 2nd century insist of using water to wash their asshole using their barehands, when they should very well keep up with times and use a toilet paper like the rest of us civilised folks.

Yes, yes. Another short post. I HOPE to get a secure net connection in my house within the next couple of weeks. Till then, go read other blogs, so when I update you will enlightened to the fact that every single word you read here is of pure quality.


Friday, July 14, 2006


Don't you people know that in the Malaysian Blogosphere, only ShaolinTiger, KimberlyCun, Minishorts and VincentLau are the only people who are authorised to start blog wars?

There are real wars going on in other parts of the world, you know...


Tuesday, July 11, 2006

social etiquette

The story goes...

I was wandering around the office today trying to look busy when one of the managers called me into his room. Now, this guy is one of 'ze important peepur' in my company. He is infact my boss' boss' boss. After a slight chit chat and banter of how I seem to be enjoying Hicksville, he then suggested some nasi dagang for lunch.

I duly obliged and trugged along making very formal conversation on the way. And during lunch, I was sure to practice good table manners. You know, the simple stuffs. Sit properly. Tear the chicken slowly. No gobbling down of food. No doing funny things with the straw that comes with the teh o ais limau kosong. (You don't know me well enough if you don't know what I do to straws after my meal...chewing is a severe understatement).

Now, we had our nasi dagang in a roadside gerai, so as you can imagine (or can you?) there were loads of cats roaming about. It is common knowledge that I am no animal lover, but I can at least tolerate dogs. Cats, on the other hand deserve to go extinct. I hate cats more than I hate Liverpool, and that's making a very profound statement.

As the story would have it, the cat walked up to my leg and started circle my feet several times. Of course, its tail kept touching my legs and that started to irritate me. Now, ordinarily, I would have violently used my legs to push it away. Contrary to popular believe, I am not a violent person and I only kick animals as a last resort.

I was being put in a tight spot here. I tried to push the cat away gently, hoping that my lunch companion would not notice since we were still talking about some important stuffs which I should be paying attention to. I don't recall reading any social etiquette book teaching someone how to deal with a cat humping your leg when talking to a big big boss. Despite several nudges, the cat kept coming back and kept brushing its tail against my leg. Finally, I pushed it away with my steel toe cap boots , maybe a little too hard.

As it turns out, the last 'kick' made the cat jump onto the boss' leg.

The good man looked down, saw the cat, muttered, "Kucing sial......" and KICKED the way you would volley a football. The cat landed 3 feet away and never bugged me after that.

Lesson learnt. Trust the management to get the job done.

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Sunday, July 09, 2006

blog plugs

There was a time where I looked for blogs with pretty chicks who would willingly plaster their faces on their blogs for the amusement of their readers. These days though, with more and more of those said blogs emerging, I have taken to actually finding blogs that I can read. Simply because if I wanted to ogle at hot chicks, I might as well be surfing for porn. This is also due to the fact that chicks in porn are (1) much much hotter, and (2) camwhore more than their faces.

Being a ridiculously slow day today, I have decided to plug a couple of blogs because (1) I am in the mood to spread the joy, (2) people complain of sucky blogs around and more importantly, because (3) they are awesome.

There are hardly any humour blogs written by women. Strangely rare. TheZEBRA is an exception to the case. She is actually an acquaintance I knew from school, but I doubt she remembers me now. Still, the humour is of her own unique style (as are all humour blogs).

Short and sweet is the key:

You're mad if you think I'm getting out of a nice, warm bed to play soccer when it's 1°C outside.

I don't want to hurt myself on someone's nipples.
The only boo-boo here is the use of the sacrilegeous term 'soccer', but since she studies in Australia, I'll let that pass. Besides, I actually laughed out loud reading the one liner - something that rarely happens.

Other times, the jokes are just "..........." (the dots are for the lack of a suitable term that you can find in any English dictionary) :

Yesterday's text conversation with my mom:

Me: I've got the flu. :(
Mom: Bird flu?
Me: You should be so lucky. More like I've been working too hard at uni.
Mom: Maybe it's because you've never worked hard before.
Me: What sympathy. I realise you still have 2 spare daughters if I die, but REALLY. *Shakes head sadly*
Mom: Don't forget the dog.
Go on then. Click on the link. She seldom updates, so keep yourself occupied with the archives which do hold some pretty funny drunken antics and girl-guy stuffs.

Lishun's blog is one that I've actually wanted to plug for a long, long time. This is one blog that does not seek to go out and entertain you with outrageous humour, or whacky stories. Everyone has their own forte, and hers is writing.

The writing style is a perfect example of how I think blogs should be written - short and sweet, and straight to the point without beating around the bush (something that I can never do). You would never imagine of reading a story about a root canal procedure and find it interesting - something that she has done amazingly.

There isn't much that I can write about her blog - no funny jokes to cut and paste here, but if you are looking for something good to read (and I stress: READ), then it doesn't really get much better than this.


Thursday, July 06, 2006

wild sex

Surprise surprise!

There really is NOTHING to do in a hick town!

Out of boredom, I turned to Wild Sex. No, I did not have some wild sex with random AhLians. I do not wish for my children to grow up with blonde hair. It was a show on National Geographic channel about the sexual behaviours of certain animals.

Dya know...

The African wolf (if I remember correctly) is unlike most mammals. Instead of going limp after an orgasm like the rest of us (and by us, I mean humans and other animals), the male's penis actually gets stuffed with more blood, hence enlarging itself while still inside the vixen's cheebye. It results in the poor bugger getting stuck in there, not being able to pull out, sometimes up to a good one hour after blowing his wad.

And more interestingly, male dolphins reach sexual maturity by the age of 10. However, they don't usually become fathers until they are 25. But fret not, those buggers actually spend those 15 years with a lot of practice! They are known to practice in self excitation practices by rubbing their (odd shaped) penises agaisnt various stuffs like corals and other animals like turtles, sharks, and even humans! And even with all those sexual perversions, those smart little buggers aren't exactly satisfied. They (the males) usually have another MALE companion whom they swim around rubbing against each other. This brings a whole new defination to 'you scratch my back, I scratch yours'.

I don't know about you, but that's pretty gay.

This, folks, is our lesson of the day brought to you from the B*tchingLOG.


Monday, July 03, 2006

morons everywhere

Request number 1. You know me in real life. You know where I am. Please do not disclose my location online. I will do so myself if and when I am in the mood to do so. Pictures would follow. But not for now, kapish? Thank you folks.

Not having a permanent Internet connection, and not being free for the next few days, I decided not to write another post whacking socialists and uninformed journalist wanna-bes. This is because there are a lot of morons out there (not to mention the earlier bunch) who might muck up my comments. That said, I seldom ever delete comments

I was reading the news the other day with a contemptious disbelieve.

Owner of 25 dogs tries to save pets from death


SEREMBAN: In an attempt to save his 25 dogs from Seremban Municipal Council enforcement officers, a dog owner packed 10 of them into his car and tried to drive off.

While reversing his car, he allegedly hit the motorcycle of one of the officers who had gone to his terrace house in Taman Desa Rasah early yesterday to nab the animals.

Eng Her Sun, 66, said he was just trying to save his dogs when he drove out with the animals.

However, he was unable to save 13 of his other pets from the dog shooters.

"They (the dogs) are my best friends. Is it wrong for me to keep them in my own house? Now, I have lost all my happiness," said Eng, who was near tears.

He claimed the officers had trespassed into his home and was contemplating legal action against them.

Council president Abdul Halim Abdul Latif, however, said his officers were acting on a court order. They were accompanied by four dog shooters from the state Veterinary Services Department and two police officers.

The situation, he added, became chaotic when the dog owner turned aggressive.

He said yesterday’s operation was carried out after the owner defied a six-month grace period given to him to move the animals to another area. The council had received a court order on Dec 20 last year to cull all 25 canines in the house.

Abdul Halim said the council had no choice but to act in view of the mounting complaints received from nearby residents on the disturbance caused by, and foul stench from, the canines.

Shooting dogs?

Not one dog, mind you....13 dogs!?!?

Goddamit. I curse the stupidity of the Veterinary Services mumbo-jumbo.





Everybody knows that you can't shoot animals if you want to eat it later. A slit of the throat would have been more appropriate.


Saturday, July 01, 2006

hick town

You know you are in a hick town when:

1) You take 2 hours to scout out a house, call the owner, view the place, and sign the deal but it takes you 4 days to find a cybercafe.

2) People actually use INTERNET in cybercafes instead of playing games! GASP! The travesty!

3) You see dusty roads everywhere.

4) You hear more crickets than cars at night.

5) 9 year old kids riding motorbikes is a common sight.

6) Although, chickens are more common a sight.

7) Nobody can speak more than 10 words of English.

8) The only English word frequently used is 'member'

9) McDonalds drive in is the most happening place to be on a Saturday night.

10) They sell fried chicken SKIN and necks in the pasar malams.

But the other day, when I was waiting for the two midgets to turn up for a late night movie in Midvalley, I was waiting on the balcony overlooking the floors below. As I was waiting there, this Malay couple was standing on my right. The guy had greasy hair and was wearing a leather jacket. The girl had horrible perfume and had her face and neck plastered with talcum powder.

On my left was a Chinese couple. The guy had a tight fitting white t-shirt from which his erect nipples were poking out from. His chick had hair up to her butt with streaks of bleached blonde in it (of course!). Thats not forgetting her miniskirt and her 5" platform shoes.

And then I thought...

Fuck it.

Hick town or not, Ahbengs and Mat Motors have infested every crevace of our society.