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Thursday, November 30, 2006

follow-up

This is a follow-up story of what happened the other day. It is the story of the kid who spent 120 bucks on some stickers for his, er...subject of interest.



Vincent says: grounded? why?
Justin says: spend 2 much
Andrew says: no shit, how much again?
Vincent says: NO SHITS U SPENT TOO MUCH??!?!
Vincent says: holy cow you spent 120 bucks on bloody stickers
Justin says: I spend rm500 over edi...go out 5 times
Vincent says: Are you fucking serious?!?
Vincent says: If I were your parents you wouldn't be grounded. I would force you to go out and BEG on the streets until you get back that 500 bucks!
Andrew says: LOL
Vincent says: WHAT THE HELL DID YOU BUY?!?
Justin says: all spend on sticker photo
Justin says: cinema
Justin says: lunch
Justin says: couple things
Vincent says: I thought 120 bucks for stickers?!
Vincent says: You mean you spent more on that?!
Vincent says: and lunch? where did you eat? hotel!?
Justin says: secret recipe
Justin says: and japanese restaurant
Andrew says: your girlfriend..is HIGH MAINTENANCE..throw her away!


And so, we older people started to lecture him on why it is not wise to do that with "his" money. This went on and on until......

Andrew says: Stupid git...you're paying for sex one way or the other...
Justin says: Andrew your brother oso owe me money lah
Justin says: I think he owe d whole form money
Andrew says: I know he does, I couldn't be bothered
Vincent says: Who asked you to lend people money?
Andrew says: Yeah, especially an Indian summore..
I think the humour is one of the few reasons I still do this shit these days...

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Wednesday, November 29, 2006

trying to be smart

In slightly over 2.5 years on this blog, people have always found a reason to disagree with me. I don't lose much sleep over what happens on the Internet, because if I did, I wouldn't have slept over the last two and the half years.

But amongst all the arguments and trolls I had (and there were a lot)
on the blog, the latest one has got to rate as one of the stupidest I have ever had the "privilege" of being involved in.

This reminds me of the time when I went on one of those leadership camp things, and the participants were split into two groups for all the activities. The participants were a good mix of university students and working adults. There was this pompous middle aged man who went around saying clever things trying to stand out from everything else, but was of course nothing more than an average idiot.

I remember a particular quiz session between the two groups of which the organisers asked questions, and you competed to see who could answer quickest. It was a simple competition designed nothing more than to see who could think the quickest.

One of the questions showed a picture of a cake and the question was, "What is the least amounts of cuts with a knife you would need to make to cut the cake into the following sizes?"
*count count count* FOUR! Correct! 1 point for the Blue Team!

5 seconds later, as the quizmaster was reading the next question, the pompous prick jumped up and interrupted her.

"Wait a minute," he protested, "the answer is ONE!"

He then went on to explain that the question asked what the least number of cuts is required, but didn't state the type of knife. So, if he had a knife that looked like the one in the picture below, he would only require ONE cut.
Technically, he was correct, but was also a very fucking stupid answer - only one that a pretentious prick would give. This is simply because such a knife does not fucking exist ordinarily, and would be extremely impractical.

So, technically, my troll was correct, but he gets the honour of my mockery because of his sheer pretentiousness. Yes, there are 32 '4's in the picture I posted, but everybody knows that I was talking about the picture inside the picture.

So dude, shut the fuck up and don't waste your time on my blog. Go and apply to join Mensa and then maybe you can go hang out with the rest of your "smart" buddies.

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Sunday, November 26, 2006

creepy crawlies

Staying next to a forest, I get a lot of uninvited guests. The crickets sing me a lullaby as I fall asleep each night, while the frogs burp louder than my friend (aptly nicknamed Froggie) during mating season.

The other day, a bloody thirsty mosquito tried to suck up some of my bodily fluids when I swatted him and did as anybody else would have done. I picked up its liveless carcass (if you can call it that) and threw it onto the floor beside me. Half an hour later, those annoying small ants were feasting on the blood sucker.

Then, 4 days ago, I caught a cockroach crawling in my wastepaper basket that had some bits of tissue paper and used food wrappers but was otherwise empty. I tied up the plastic bag and left the fella in there. For general information, in case it might interest you - the bugger is still alive as of 5 minutes ago. I intend to keep that plastic bag until the fucker dies - just to see how long he can go without food or water (a normal human being would have started decomposing).

And just the other day, I killed a very horrible (and evil) intruder that could have done me some harm. Say hello to Hairy Legs Voldermort:

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Thursday, November 23, 2006

saturday morning story

Those scout meetings that I used to gladly volunteer for are starting to irritate me. After narrating a particularly fucked up story to one of my juniors (who quit volunteering a long time ago because he was understandably annoyed and frustrated with the kids), he commented that he couldn't really understand how I had such a high level of tolerance with respect to this, when I usually don't tolerate idiocy elsewhere.

But I've said this time and time again. This is my way of giving back to society. Some people do church or temple work. Some people help out with NGOs. I am not a big fan of this God bloke, and I think that a lot of NGOs are self centered cunts (you can quote me on that). I choose to teach (spoilt) kids a lesson or two in life.

Between lessons in tying knots and (insert stereotypical scout activity here), I think it more useful to teach them more important lessons in life. Just the other day, one of them complained about how he didn't get quite enough pocket money - ONLY 30 ringgit a week.

"Why the hell do you need 30 ringgit a week?! You don't pay for ANYTHING!"

This concept of pocket money is actually quite foreign to me, since I didn't get a single cent in school. Lunch was provided, and its not as if I needed to take a bus to get home. I didn't need money for anything. On the rare (really rare) occasions that I went out with my friends, mum would give me some money - just enough for the outing. I really didn't feel the need to buy random stuffs I don't need (which I presume is the only reason most kids get this pcoket money thingy).

But back to the kid:

"Yeah but that day my girlfriend wanted those sticker photos! One set 24 ringgit you know! And she wanted FIVE sets! I am bankrupt alreadylah!"

And for some reason, I went absolutely livid.

"You spent 120 bucks on fucking stickers?!?"
"Yah, if I say no then she cry, how?"
"Then you go look for another girl you can proudly parade around to your friends, you idiot!"
"Haiyah you don't know onelah"
"Yeah? You are using your parent's money to buy her shit. And you complain they don't give you enough. Wait till you start working and then you learn how fucking hard it is to earn 120 bucks."


His protests continued. I was beginning to think that my lecture was a lost cause. You can't really expect a teenager high on testosterone to logically reason out that his mythical girlfriend was worth 120 bucks of stickers. I was starting to give up, when I realised that the other kids actually took my lecture pretty seriously and looked like they learnt something that morning.

I told this story to the missus and she just shrugged it off. "Aiyah dear, we were all once young and stupid la," she said.

Sure.

I was once young and did stupid things. But certainly not as stupid as this.

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Tuesday, November 21, 2006

here's a thought

Not too recently, someone asked me whether I would ever sacrifice my happiness for another person's. The answer, I thought was a no-brainer. I am definately a self-serving selfish creature that one could only possibly term of as 'human'.

Would I go out of my way to make someone happy? Well, that's a different question all together. If making someone happy brings joy to myself, then sure, I would. But why should I feel compelled to act like a selfless saint and heap sorrow upon myself just to please you?

I would have thought that anybody with half a brain that reads everything I have to say here, could figure out for themselves that I am many things - but selflessness is NOT one of those things. And if I may be so bold to point out that there really isn't such a thing a selfless good deed, then perhaps, dear, you would understand where I am coming from.

How else would you have me react to the utterly nonsensical ramblings of my already dramatic life? What did you think was ever going to come out of the shell? I can't possibly know, and I certainly do not expect other people to. I could go against the very core of my sensible judgement and for probably the first time ever, shut my gob.

But we all know that that is not what I like doing, and certainly something that I do not wish to do. I fight for what I want, I clamour for every piece of attention like how a child scraps for biscuit crumbs at the bottom of the tin. That is what I do, and that I what I accept I have to do.

So if it doesn't bother me, why should it bother you?

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Friday, November 17, 2006

we have a problem

How many number '4's can you find the picture?


This was a picture taken at a particular restaurant today - you know, the type that provides kids with little activity sheets so that they can keep themselves busy while waiting for their food instead of bugging the adults by climbing on chairs.

Anyhows, I looked at this particular one and it immediately caught my attention. A quick count and a glance at the answer provided in the corner quickly confirmed my suspicions - we are teaching our kids to develop a tunnel vision from all that spoon-feeding in schools.

Go on, count it and humour me will you?

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Wednesday, November 15, 2006

of marrying barbie dolls

I'll be brutally honest here.

When I came back from Singapore the other day, I was going to write a piece critisising the Barbie Dolls that seemed to infest every corner of that country. My first time walking down Orchard Road, and I couldn't help but notice the sheer volume of women with thick layers of war-paint plastered on their faces. It wasn't just the war paint - the hair, the nails, the shoes. All very prim and proper.

I started thinking then...why? Why do people subject themselves to all that trouble? Sure, grooming is good, which is why we comb our hairs and wash our faces. But surely there is such a thing as over-grooming? I started thinking about a lot of things, because that is what I do all the time. Insecurities? Peer pressure?

And then I compared them to what I look at in a woman. They are of course free to dress as they wish, but I like them simple, thank you very much. No need for an extravagant highlights or bright red lipstick. No need for manicured nails either. But of course, it is in the nature of women that when you tell them that you think they are awesome because they are simple, they tend to get angry and poke you in the eye (or maybe punch you in the nose).

Which then brought another train of thought pulling into the main station in my whacky head. Is it wrong for barbie dolls to be the way they are? Just because that is not a quality I look for, that doesn't mean it is wrong, no? And so I came to a rather surprising conclusion. Surprising by my standards of tolerance, I suppose..

Some people have the idea that if you choose a partner based on their looks, you are shallow. Shallow because apparently, there is more to a person than their looks. Of course there is, but some people say it so passionately that they are most probably idiots who are insecure about their own physical appearance. Everybody looks for different qualities in a partner - none of which are wrong.

I reckon there is nothing wrong with a person marrying someone just because that person has a rich father. It is not something that is important to me, but I can understand some people who might think it important to be rich in life. Similarly, I think there is nothing wrong with someone who has a trophy wife and proudly parades her around. Again, not something I would do, but to each its own.

The reason I say all this is because I realised that there really is no distinction between choosing someone because they are smart as opposed to choosing someone because they are pretty. Why is it that the genetic gift of beauty is frowned upon more than the genetic gift of intelligence? Both are discriminatory, but that doesn't mean that there is anything wrong with discrimating either trait. Of course it would be a real catch to score one with both traits.....

As I like to put it...whatever floats your boat la..

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Monday, November 06, 2006

spot the not

Update : I have editted the sidebar - demoting and promoting (and deleting) some links. Go read the archives and stop bugging my busy ass for updates!



The story has it that my little kampung community in Hicksville threw a great big Hari Raya celebration yesterday. Growing up in the city, it is the stuff legends are made off. We read about things like that in Moral textbooks in school, but never once occured to me that shit like that actually happens these days.

It is exactly as the Moral textbooks describe it. Kampung folk getting together - the women scooter off to once corner and prepare food and gossip amongst themselves, while the men gather in one place honing the skills passed down from their ancestors. Cavemen ancestors, to be precise. No hunting wooly mammoths, I am afraid - just the part where we start a fire and burn some meat over it. And the kids, well the kids just run around playing with each other. And after that, everybody has a great big happy meal.

It was a pretty big occasion. I knew that they collected 10 bucks from everybody before the Raya holidays to get some patrolmen, so I figured that they used the remaining money to throw the feast. I also knew that they invited the MP for our area, so I figured that they got that extra funding from so-called 'tax payer's money'. I was wrong. I found out when I went for the makan that they actually collected RM25 from each family, but I was a specially invited guest since I am the only Chinese in the whole kampung (there is also one Indian family, and they brought muruku) and since it was a Hari Raya feast, we got a free invite.

This was a first for me, partly because I couldn't remember the last time I felt so out of place - not knowing many people and everything. It also doesn't take a genius reading my blog to know that I am not a very sociable person when it comes to meeting random people.

(Sidenote : just the other day, I screamed at a few random people, "you bloggers are fucking losers" because they were trying to get to know each other in an impromtu meet, and in the process tried to get me involved, thus making me extremely uncomfortable)


Anyways, this was in itself a whole new experience, but events of that night got even weirder. Here are a few short stories, of which only ONE is false. Take your pick and spot the not:



The MP was giving his speech, and to my best memory, this was part of what he said:
Saya amat gembira sebab tuan tuan dan puan puan berjaya bekerjasama sekampung untuk menjayakan sambutan Aidilfitri ini. Memang dalam dunia ini, kita tidak boleh duduk bersendirian, ya. Kita memerlukan bantuan jiran.

Saya masih ingat pada zaman sekolah dahulu, saya pernah baca buku Robinson Crusoe, ya. Dia duduk seorang atas pulau. Nak gandum, tanam gandum. Nak ikan, pancing ikan. Tuan tuan dan puan puan, amalan Robinson Crusoe ini TIDAK baik, ya. Kita tidak boleh hidup berseorangan dalam dunia moden ini.
Eh, fuck you la. You think you give speech in kampung, means all the kampung people uneducated issit? Cheebye, don't act all pompous here, okay? Mr Crusoe did not choose to live alone, you moron. He was shipwrecked, see. Besides, he had this black dude with him, no? Man Friday, I believe?



The ketua kampung then proceeded to give his speech, and this is part of it:
Jelas bahawa jamuan Aidilfitri telah mendapat sambutan yang bagus dari tuan tuan dan puan puan. Dengan kerjasama tuan tuan dan puan puan, ahli jawatankuasa ingin merancang aktiviti yang baru pada masa akan datang. Antara cadangan yang dikibarkan adalah upacara sunat beramai-ramai.
I don't care what anybody says, if they have that thing, I am fucking going to witness that damn thing. This reminds me of the Petronas ad from a few years ago with the usual political correctness of one Indian kid, one Chinese kid and one Malay kid. After a particular upacara sunat, the Indian boy asks, complete with the Indian accent, "Eh, itu dia potong dia kasi balik kah?"



We then proceeded to eat. One of the teenage girls brought along a friend, whom I presume is an exchange students of some sort, judging from the colour of his skin, and his very blonde curly hair kinda like a blonde Frodo. Almost 5 months in Hicksville and I have never seen a kampung girl speak English, until yesterday, when a group of girls fully equiped with an awesome Hicksville sounding British accent make Frodo the center of attraction, whilst ignoring all the other blokes around them.

Moral of the story : White man trumps all.



Midway through the feast, a woman made an annoucement on the mike, saying that she was taking over as the emcee:
Tuan tuan dan puan puan, saya akan mengambil tempat Doktor Shamsul sebagai tuan pengerusi majlis. Malangnya, Doktor Shamsul baru mendapat panggilan dari hospital, ya. Dia adalah doktor on-call, dan baru terjadi satu kemalangan jalan raya - ada sebuah kereta yang melanggar seekor kambing did Jalan XXX, lalu dia terbabas dan melanggar pokok.
One of my daily highlights travelling to work every morning is the inevitable dead carcass I will see lying on the road. If a motorist was kind, the said animal would be lying by the side of the road, but most of the time the carcass is left smack in the middle. I have seen the insides of pretty much every animal that you can find in hicktown - chickens, cats, dogs, goats, and even monkeys. I nearly ran over a whole family of monkeys once, but as a result of slamming my brakes, the lorry behind me had to slam on his as well and I thank my lucky stars that he did not crash into my ass.



So there you have it, a small collection of The Chronicles of Hicksville. Unbelievable, but true. Well, one of them is HALF true, so do your best and take your pick, you weird little town folk!

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Friday, November 03, 2006

howdy doo!

This comes to you at a time where I don't really care for very many things. Some people say that you can motivate yourself every morning by waking up and telling yourself that it is going to be an exciting day. I would like to meet those people so I can gauge out their eyeballs.

Suddenly, my only motivation for waking up in the mornings is knowing that I can go back to bed at night and in the process, tear off another page on my daily calender. I have lost the motivation for many things. When I was 8, I had a pyramid version of a Rubic Cube and I spent weeks motivating myself to find the solution to that puzzle. One day, one ordinary day, I picked it up and saw the solution staring straight back and me. And after that, it just got plain boring.

In many ways, I get through the day trying to solve puzzles (sometimes literally - Freecell in the office can be fun but ssssh, don't tell the boss). And if you do solve the puzzle, it isn't quite as fun as it used to be. Most people hate being in a situation where they don't know what is going on. I prefer being tossed in the deep end of the pool where I have to kick around to stay afloat. I don;t quite know why, but that is how shit spins.

This again would not bother you. You read this and will then go about reading something else about some Singaporean MP's daughter. If I am lucky, you might spare a thought about this before deciding on KFC's 3 piece hot & spicy chicken for lunch. I don't expect much anymore.

You can say that you have no idea what I am babbling about - well that makes BOTH of us. And you know, I seem to have lost the motivation to humour you.

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