Why are you like that?

I wonder if I had enough rest this weekend.
I've been home most of yesterday and today.
And yet, I don't think my mind was at all peaceful.
As I watched you sleep, I start to wonder if this weekend is going to be the same for all the weekends in our lives.
I struggle to remember the last time we had a truly enjoyable weekend. Are we so comfortable with each other that time together doesn't mean anything anymore, or are we so busy with our lives that we don't enjoy each other's company anymore?
Where are we actually?
Still walking down the road, or at the end of the road?

I'm a Cross person

Yah well.

The first impression I usually give strangers is that I'm in a bad mood. They'd usually do very patronizing greetings, then try to steer clear of me as long as I don't break out into a smile.

Sometimes, just for the fun of it, I don't smile till they leave.

The fact is, I'm BORN looking like that. And at least I know that.

When I was younger, adults would always chide me and say "Cheer up, kiddo" or "Don't look so sad la". I'd just nod. If you happen to be one of those adults, let me tell you the truth : I WAS NOT SAD OK!

As I grew older, I began to think that maybe people think that way because I didn't smile enough. So I attempted to. Then people said I look mischievous, because I had a sinister smile.

People are so hard to please.

Now that I am much older, I gave up trying. And even adapted this "angry" thing into my personality. So I'm angry at work. Angry at home. Angry when driving. Angry when hungry. Angry when Streamyx lag so much my Maplestory character is crawling. Angry when it doesn't rain.

I'm so angry that I write nasty emails to people I deal with at work. I'm so angry that I blast the honk when people get in my way on the road. I'm so angry that I just am.

So Anger is now my middle name. Don't copy me la Tim. Simply anger anger all.

Now tell me, do I really look angry?

Most unsmiling picture ever.

Of Life and Death...

As the silhouette of the pink hospital looms at the road ahead, a wretch in my heart triggered a flood of memories in my mind. The smell of disinfectant, the white sheets that were sometimes smeared with dry blood, the green of the patient robes, and impending death waiting silently in the corridors.

I parked nearest to the entrance, all too familiar with place. Nothing much has changed.

The lift still smelled of putrid paint. As it chugs reluctantly up to level 9, I find myself trapped in time.

I remember coming here everyday. I remember turning and twisting in the armchair, tired from hours of sitting there. I remember pouring bland porridge into a plastic orange bowl. I remember pouring the same bowl of porridge into the trash bin. I remember the listless faces of doctors who couldn't do anything to help.

I remember.

I walked down the lonely corridors that wreaked of emptiness. As I pushed open the doors, I could hear machines bleeping away, ringing out the alarm that time was running out for the person to whom it was hooked to. I walked past hagged relatives, already surrendered to the day they dread most.

There he was, a shadow of his old self. His son, my cousin, fondly strokes his hair, and asked him to see who was there. I acknowledged him, and was reprimanded for showing up at such a late hour. A good sign that he is still very much alert.

As I turned to leave, I nodded at my cousin, a man with infinity patience, as he retired to the armchair for the night. I took a look around the whole ward. Yet I have no courage to look them all in the eye. My gaze finally fixed on a worn-out 80-year old man, whom I was told just tried to jump out the window in the afternoon. May peace be with you.

I suddenly felt that I could breathe easier as soon as I got out of the building. As I started the car, I took one last look at the hospital.

It was strange that I remember so much now, for I never seemed to have let his passing haunt me. Yet I dreamt of him, and had vivid recollections of his kind hand on my forehead soothing my fever.

I'm glad you're in a better place now Daddy. I'm sorry if we never got the chance to spend more time together. But it was the times we had that now made me who I am.

I will still miss you.

You can tell how old I am from the things I say

I'm at a spa. And I'm not happy. How can?About 3 years back, I discovered this spa when hunting for a Mother's Day-come-birthday gift for the mother. We could spend a whole day here, with a jacuzzi, sauna and steam bath, a massage, and best of all, free flow of food and beverages. And so it goes that this was a nice place to wind down and relax, sleep in disposable underwear and just..... lay motionless. I was very supportive of this place. The manager called me from time to time, and offered me packages for 20pax,and even invited me to their Open Day. Heck, we even had Carolyn's hen party here.




Sigh.So how did it come to this? Urbanization loh. As this place grew, more people started to come. In order to accommodate more people, the quality suffered. The service became bad. The place became noisy. Men from China checked out my huge glorious ass as I trudged around in my disposable underwear (under a dressing robe la). The food variety dwindled. And now it sucks to be here.
And why am I here? Because of that 20-pax package we bought la -.-
So I sulk here in this corner of a room, while I blog about my dissatisfaction with this place, still wearing that disposable underwear, still wearing THEIR dressing robe, lazing on THEIR sofa, while I contemplate, again this time of year, what to get the mother for her birthday.
Mind you, this is no ordinary mother. She's worked for so long that she is.. to be politically correct, "financially independent" and she can afford most things on her own. So many years as her daughter has taught me to STILL buy the ordinary stuff, but SELL it to her at a different angle. Hehe.
Jewellery? Perfume? Clothes? Bird's nest? Been there, done that. Then again, whatever I buy is still not going to beat what the sister is buying. And because the sister is buying that gift, I now find myself planning hard to save for a trip to Denmark. Sis, I only got three months to save wei... seiseisei.
I think for the mother's birthday, I buy dinner only la. Throw her a McD's birthday party or something. I can feel my wallet turning sour. It's starting to twist and wretch, fighting to keep a single sen from going out.
Whatever I initially saved to buy a new camera is now dumped into the "Send Marilyn to Denmark Fund", not to mention buying a new damn water filter for the house! Why why why am I paying super a lot of money to Indah Water and my water still has little green and brown monsters swimming in it? Are they the cause of my migraines? My sore throats? My dog's increased aggression towards rats?
I have so many things to think about.
So it'd be a pictureless blog for a while, while I figure out this money thing. Maybe it's time to start digging into my old photo collection...
Ok, time to get out of this place, before my disposable underwear disintegrates.

Eh.....

Oh my.... What do we have here??? o_O

It's my blog!!!

Japanese Buffet at Shangri-la

This is especially for my sister.




Aphrodisiac.




How is it possible that such a simple, carrot and beef soup can taste so heavenly?




I had three whole plates of these strawberries!



Strawberries and cheese. Made for each other!



These little dessert wonders can cause a storm in those teacups!




*BuRp*

Colors and Packaging

Man, why torture me on a Saturday morning?

I can't tell the difference.....







Where's my coffee?

Now That's Customer Service!

I am absolutely delighted. Never in my life would I have expected such a high standard of service from Giant Supermarket.
See, last week on Monday, I was over at a shopping complex for lunch. After that, some colleagues and I headed down to the Giant Supermarket at the lower ground floor of the complex, to buy some food stuff for those late nights in the office. Or for those times where our brains are at a deadlock, and junk food serves to revive it somehow. Usually after lunch anyways.
While we were browsing, I came across a big sign that promotes an inflatable pool for kiddies for only RM9.99! Well, I couldn't possibly do anything more than to just my ankles in that pool, but it would be real fun for Joey and Cody.
AaaahhHHhhh, just imagine that.....



So, on Thursday I went back to the place to purchase it.
Lo and behold, as with usual Malaysian shopping experiences (I'm very patriotic I know) the cashier rung up RM24.99 instead of RM9.99! Boy, was I pissed.
To top it all off, instead of apologizing for their mistake, they quickly took the wrong sign down, and the cashier asked me, "Jadi, ini mau bayar ke mau cancel?"
...to which I was dumbfounded, "Tapi...sana you punya harga kata RM9.99..."
And her reply was the ever so classic. "Itu bukan salah kita!"
My colleague, who also wanted one of those inflatable pool, asked her, "Jadi ini salah masyarakat ah?"
So I courteously replied, "Tak apalah, bukan salah you, bukan salah saya jugak. Saya pergi complain saja."
And we walked off.
Fuming all the way back to the office, I schemed.
And so.....
I called the manager of that branch and demanded that they honour the price I saw, failing which, I will drop by at the Consumer's Association for a visit.
Not only was the Manager, Mr Lingam, totally polite and apologetic, he also offered to sell the pool to me at the indicated price!
Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is exemplary conduct.

So now..... someone's having a good time.....




*Joey however, feels rather differently. She totally screamed, "I'm gonna drown!I'm gonna drown!"

Especially Dedicated to Fox

Happy Burfday to YooOOoUuuu, Happy Burfday to YoooOOoUuuu, Happy Burfday to Oh!FooOOoXxxx, Happy Burfday to you!



My my...how you've changed.... from two years ago...




Now that you're all grown up, there are some things you can't do anymore....

Like going off to frolick by yourself...




Or hide away from the rest of the world.....




Or put other people's nut in between your legs



But MOST OF ALL.....

DON'T BE SECRETIVE ANYMORE!



*well well...for someone who goes to SECRET Recipe for his birthday.....

The Omen - Oh Man!

It was supposed to give me a good fright and scare me shitless in my pants. Other than one or two jumps out of my seat, I’d have to say The Omen was nothing spectacular. Having seen the original that gave me nightmares for days, this remake simply didn’t quite make the cut. It definitely wasn’t Julia Stiles’ best effort, but then again, not much was required from her boring role as the sick and pained mom. There are only two things which I liked about the movie, which are Seamus Davey-Fitzpatrick’s Damien, and Mia Farrow’s psycho nanny.
Movie aside, perhaps thought should be given to the origins of the idea of “anti-Christ” itself. I managed to find loads of articles from people with different ideas on what anti-Christ means, from biblical scholars to writers.
I must admit that I’m not a “wholistically” religious person. But I do believe in God and all the miracles that he has showered upon His children. I believe in the fact that there exists an upper being who watches over us, the One who is the center of all good and the opposite of all evil.
So this idea of the existence of the “anti-Christ” both amuses and worries me. It has exactly the adverse effects of knowing there will always be an epitome of goodness in the world with the existence of God; that one day, evil is coming to get us. I am reminded in flickers of memories of my days as a young child brought up by grandparents who are survivors of WWII, and whose ideas of discipline comes in the form of instilling fear in children. Things like, “if you don’t hold my hand tightly when we’re out, the black monster will come and catch you!”
As a child, I had morbid thoughts that come to mind, partly due to the constant barraging ideas that spill from my grandmother’s mouth in her bid to control us, and partly due to TV. I envisioned that WWIII would start at the height of my life, in my teens when I am young and vulnerable, and I would be reduced to smudging coal on my face to disguise as a boy when I should be dressed in frilly dresses and attending tea parties. Or hanging out in malls.
But all that is nothing; nothing at all compared to imagining what would happen if the world would be taken over by evil. Do we fall slowly into Damien’s trap of lies and deceit, which would render us a step too deep into the mud of evil? Would he invoke his army of Satan worshippers and banish us from our world of liberty? Worse still, would he wipe out the entire human race, so that we will have the inevitable fate of enduring his barbecued haven in eternity? Would he dethrone God from our lives as Savior of our souls?
Man, all I want to do is to be able to walk my dog everyday, have a good cup of tea!

Some People Capitalize on Animals

When I needed good homes for my puppies, I sent out an email *refer to last blog entry*.
And this was my favorite reply:


Just because a puppy or kitten ends up at the SPCA does not necessarily mean that it will be put to sleep. Adoption drives is high on SPCA priority list.

The SPCA is not a dumping ground where you bring whatever unwanted puppies (kittens) you have because of mismanagement of your bitch. If it comes to it and no homes are found the puppies would have to be put to sleep but SPCA is really only cleaning up the irresponsibility of owners that will perpetuate if the puppies are going to be released without being spayed / neutered (not that release in woods / dumping site is a sensible option). Further is it a better option to be put to sleep or left at a dumpsite to starve?

That statement gives the impression that anything that enters the SPCA is put down effective from the moment the little paw crosses the threshold. This is erroneous and this thinking that is forwarded to countless people gives a false impression and erodes the good work that the SPCA is trying to do. Putting down puppies and kittens is not the priority of the SPCA but given the sheer numbers that come through, the SPCA is not faced with any other option. If you have a better plan of what to do with the 20 -30 000 stray animals each year dumped at the SPCA, please do suggest some. The SPCA is not a dog pound.

Just to let you know the SPCA runs foster programmes, adoption drives and spay neuter programmes so that the amount of animals that have to be put to sleep is lessen as the years pass.

In what way did I mention it was my bitch who screwed up, you bitch? And then you go and contradict yourself by saying that if it really comes to it the puppies would be put to sleep.
So let me clarify and bitchify your smarty pants answer.
I'm sure adoption is high on the SPCA priority list. How else are they going to rip RM250 off your pockets? And if it that really is the case, how do you explain that I managed to find 5 puppies five good homes in less than 2 weeks (among so many people who called and came to enquire), but that SPCA has to put to sleep thousands of them every year?
I'm not the only one who thinks so: http://blog.menj.org/2005/11/30/spca-are-scum/
I'm not saying they're Cruella in disguise. All I'm saying is, if I'm allowed to offer my humble opinion, is that perhaps it's not a very feasible approach. If you want to encourage adoption, why tag such a price on them? I can totally understand that SPCA needs to make ends meet as well, but it's something like a chicken and egg situation. If you don't give the dogs away, you have to spend more money to continue to sustain them. If you're all out to make money from them, why not train them up and you can have a dog circus? Why not make them jump loops, walk on charcoal and swing on the trapeze? Or if you can't be bothered, why not sell them to the Royal London Circus? *this by the way, is my 'suggestion' of what to do with the animals*
The point lies in the education of pet owners that they have a responsibility and should not just own a pet for the sake of having one.
And seriously, they are not here to "clean up the irresponsibility of owners". If your 16 year old kid screws up and ends up having a baby, do you put the baby to sleep? I know this sounds a bit far fetched, but could it be remotely possible that there are people out there who wouldn't want their beloved pet to go through life without ever having had a feeling of what it's like to be a parent, or worse still, to let them die a virgin? And if it is a better option to be put to sleep rather than to be starving, then should we round up all the homeless and people living in poverty and put them to sleep?
So don't talk like an animal lover if you don't even recognize their rights.

A Caring Society

Some time ago I sent out this email:

Hi everyone,
This is quite a desperate attempt to save some puppies from the fate of being roadkill, or eaten or die.
My cousin's golden retriever gave birth to 5 mongrel puppies. Their family have insufficient means to keep the puppies, and is going to just release them into the woods, or rubbish dump site, wherever is convenient.
If you have the means of adopting one of these puppies and give them shelter or save them from being left to fend for themselves, please call me at 012 *******. Bring one home so they don't have to die.
We could of course go to SPCA, but this would only mean the puppies would be put to sleep.
Otherwise, please help forward this to friends whom you think might be interested in giving these puppies a home.

The response was tremendous. I was inundated with calls from friends' friends' friends' friends', some eager to adopt, some concerned about the puppies. And now thanks to all my friends, their friends, their friends' friends', lalalala, all the five adorable little ones have been adopted.

My utmost gratitude to Jess, Juliet, Vianney&Michael, and Tony for the open arms they have provided to these puppies, for their willingness and readiness to give these puppies a good life. And for those that I have had to turn away, my apologies for I have found the above individuals to be the most suitable people to adopt them puppies.

Of course, as in all things in life, this didn't go smoothly down like beer in the throat la. There were strange phone calls from people who didn't only want the puppy, they were desperate for them. I had to stress time and again that we cannot just want a puppy for the sake of having one, we must be prepared physically and mentally to adopt a new being in our lives and the responsibilities that come with it.
*read: when you are too young/ not ready to have a pet, your golden retriever gets pregnant and have mongrel puppies*

And then there were those who were genuinely concerned about what would happen to the puppies. Thanks to Rena, I am now a firm believer that we can help if we really try. Also Lisa, whom I had a long conversation with, over the need for education of pet owners.
So many people actually came and played with the puppies. Kudos to Jess, who actually helped us bathe the pups, and towelled them dry (of course, kudos to Jess also, for bringing Lucky to a home with a massive garden and a swimming pool). Tiger will be having a good time frolicking in the garden and tugging at his owner's blanket at night, Princess will be absolutely at her Royal Highness best at Tony's, and Sasa is being fussed all over at Juliet's.
What of Jack?
He's now called Cody, and he lives at Jason's, which is a stone's throw away from my place. Yippee!!!

Jack is the new man in my life. Ok, the new boy in my life. Ok, not really in my life. Just temporarily. And it saddens me so.
This little fat, fluffy rabbit look-alike has captured my heart and I have fallen truly, madly, deeply in love. Ok, more like hook, line and sinker. One little whimper and I fly to his rescue, one little look of sadness, and I pick him up and cradle him. He seems to get along well with Joey too, which came as a surprise to me. He seems to know how to pull my heart strings perfectly well, and to pull off that “I’m cold. Cuddle me!” look. Gosh.
I took Princess and Jack back with me yesterday, and they slept cuddled close to me as I watched TV. Reminded me of those times Joey would squirm her way onto my lap and make herself comfortable there.
A sudden recollection also came to me. A long time ago when I first brought Joey home, a friend told me that when a girl is ready to wholly own a dog, it means she’s ready for motherhood. Bollocks. A dog is a friend, companion and the best thing to have. Better than a sister. Right, Jee?
A dog is someone you can talk to, and they won’t talk back or disagree with you. Or say “I told you so.” A dog is someone you can watch TV with, and they won’t tell the story before you watch it. A dog is someone who is happy to have a bit of whatever you’re eating, and make you their idol from then on. A dog is someone who can teach you about responsibility, caring for others, and fun.
A dog is not just a dog.
Hang on there Joey, Jack and Princess; I’m coming home straight after work.

Happy Birthday

I’ve been really busy at work lately. Things aren’t going too smoothly. I might seriously consider a change in direction. The problem with the world I guess, is always that nothing is certain.
Joey’s somehow given me a sense of homeliness ever since we brought her home. I began to miss home when I’m out for a whole day, not to even mention outstation trips. It is always a luxury to be able to sit home and enjoy her company. She sometimes gives me that sense of assurance just like you did when I was much younger.
I really hate growing up. It’s so shrouded with un-pleasantries that I sometimes wish would just go away if I cover myself up in a blanket and count to three. Injustice makes tears well up in my eyes, and for things that I have no power to change, I just cry.
From those school years that you used to bring me to school, I wished that I had a bike so I could go to school alone. And now I wish you’d take me to work everyday. For those times you brought me out for meals that I wish were McDonald’s or chicken chop, I now relish in eating cheap Chinese food.
I cannot forget the warmth in your voice and the palm of your hand. You’d bring me to the doctor whenever I was sick, and I would always be greeted by your voice as soon as you return home from work. Feverish or not, I always heard:
“Girl, how are you feeling?”
I heard it again the last time I was sick, and no one brought me to the doctor. I stayed in bed the whole day, and at night as I lay on the couch after taking my medication, I heard you ask.
“Girl, how are you feeling?”
And it was the same warmth in the voice, and the same touch of the hand on my forehead.
It’s been more than 3 years now. I am glad you no longer have to face life’s trying times, and especially mortality. While I used to feel your presence even after you left, I feel it no more, and I’m happy you have left for good, and that life is a bliss now that you are with the Lord.
I will see you again when my time here is due.
Happy birthday Daddy.
PS: I'm sorry about the time I bought you a Mickey Mouse tie for your birthday, and you wore it without knowing it.

Tanah Disney??

All this talk about setting up a Disneyland right in our own backyard (Johor a bit far from where I live, but considered backyard of Peninsula lar) has gotten many Malaysians all excited. After all, to go to Disneyland Tokyo would cost you a bomb and a half, and to go to the one in the States would cost you half a globe.
As with having the Malaysia Boleh! spirit, we would naturally want everything to be the best of the best of the best. Like our now defunct Petronas Twin Towers (defunct because not the tallest anymore la), the longest popiah, the largest mooncake... and the list goes on. So I heard on the radio this morning, that if we really are to have one, it will be the biggest Disneyland yet. Sure boh?
I figured that eventually if this really were to materialize, we would of course implement some Malaysian elements in it. Like what?
1. Nasi Lemak in Tanah Disney
2. World's longest popiah, everyday
3. The Sambal rollercoaster ride (did I mention the longest and spiciest in the world?)
4. Puteri Gunung Ledang together with Cinder-Ella(who wears Bata shoes)
5. Prince Charming in a Proton
6. and this ....little red riding hood.

Of Innuendos...

When I was still in college, I came across this rather interesting word, "Innuendo". No, it's not just a local band. In law terms, it's specifically means a parenthetic explanation of a word or charge in a legal document. Don't know what I'm talking about? Refer www.dictionary.com
The Innuendo word in this blog's context means an insinuation.
Example?
Poody : PT, do you like pineapple tart?
PT: your apple tart? I've never eaten it before.
Go figure.

Example 2.
Some friends and I were having lunch in Jalan Batai yesterday, and talked of buying shuttles for our regular badminton sessions.
PT: We should ask Lous to help us buy more shuttles.
Me: But he never comes anymore!!
*Entire group burst out laughing*
?????

Example 3.
Still during lunch.
Nivla: I think I'm still hungry. Should I buy fruits or pisang goreng?
Rover: Pisang Goreng? That's gay food la, %&*#@^!
Note: I would include Nivla's picture of him eating his pisang goreng, but not without his permission. So maybe tomorrow.


Example 4.
Still during lunch. Yes, it was a long one.
PT starts picking out anchovies from his pan mee, and dumps them into the bowls of people on his left and right.
Nivla: Can I have your ikan bilis?
PT: Yes, you can have my ikan bilis.
*Silence*
*Entire group bursts out laughing*

Boy oh boy, we live in a world full of corrupted minds.

Friendster Cafe - the good ol' times

Spent Friday night at Friendster Cafe. Quite a good place to chill out, except it was pouring cats and dogs. The place reminds me of Perks Cafe in Friends, and also brought to life some years back in 1Utama, but somehow, it doesn't feel as cosy.
Like a bunch of small kids that night, we played Uno, Pictionary and sang the Birthday song to the next table as they were celebrating. Rekindled my faith in friendship somehow.
Not a good combination for kids. Can severely retardate your ability to identify the numbers on the cards.


Some people get the concept of the game wrong. To finish the cards, not to accumulate them la.


By far the most artistic piece in Pictionary.

Futsal Virgin - Devirginized

Forgot my camera =(
The only pictures I have of my futsal experience are these:

My poor shoes.

Gone. Sigh.

My poor leg.


My legs got lebam lebam all. My back is aching and my hamstring is gnawed.
Ok, I guess the experience was a pleasant one after all. I know I must sound like a sadist for first complaining about the pain, then saying it was a pleasant experience. Futsal at Sports Unlimited last night was both chaotic and comedic. The boys intended to teach the girls futsal and have fun watching them miss the ball. The girls intended to just kick the boys. And for the next two days, I will be reminded of the experience whenever I sit, stand up or even just move my legs. FuuuhHHhhhh...
*Fox, sorry I kicked you, so hard*

My attempt to bring Jason to the century-old Coliseum didn't quite work out. For those residing in KL and have not even an inkling of idea where or what the Coliseum is.... shy boh. It is probably one of the oldest (and first) restaurant in the City that serves Western food, and was the kind of place your folks would bring you to if you did well in your exams (you would also be in your 50s or 60s by now). Its mere ambience and decor is like a blast from the past that makes you imagine a scene similar to Back to The Future, where you visit your folks' old haunts. And food there, mind you, is fantalicious. So, anytime you run out of ideas to bring friends/ special ones, look it up. And put on those polkadot ties.

Picture taken from www.mymesra.com.my

*note: I'm running through some old photos I saw off a friend's Ofoto album, perhaps some interesting stuff might come out of there..... Hopefully it isn't a picture of me in a pinafore when I had green eyes.

THE Vinci Code

My first weekend as a blogger, and I didn't post any blog. Tsk tsk.
Friday night was a fiasco at GSC cinema for the Da Vinci Code crowd. For those who read the books, some were disappointed. For those who didn't, it was purely entertaining. For those who have no idea who Mary Magdalene is, they thought this is a documentary.
I read the book and loved the movie. I guess the idea is to have a willingness to separate book from movie. I'd dwelve further into this Code Debunking debate thing, but nolah, try to take it on the lighter side, you know? But here's something funny:

http://www.nst.com.my/Current_News/nst/Thursday/Columns/20060504075213/Article/index_html

Linguists call for ‘Da Vinci Code’ ban
THE Malaysian Linguistic Association (Malas) has echoed calls by other parties to ban the controversial movie The Da Vinci Code.The film is an adaptation of a best-selling novel that deals with some aspects of the Christian faith. But the objection by Malas has nothing to do with theology because "we don’t even know who Theo is", says its president Ambi Mohan.The association’s chief objection is, instead, linguistic. "For too long we have sat by and allowed language to be polluted but we have decided that enough’s enough. The Da Vinci Code should be banned because we don’t want to encourage youngsters to use ‘da’ as a lazy shorthand for ‘the’."We see this in rap lyrics," he claims. "All this talk about ‘hanging out with da hoes’. You should be hanging out with THE hoes. This sort of begs the question of why someone would want to ‘hang out’ with gardening implements to begin with, but I am not here to question lifestyle choices, merely spelling, grammar and semantics."He said the association might reconsider its protests if the filmmakers changed its name to The The Vinci Code. "But even this is problematic because having two ‘thes’ in a row look ugly. So the film should be called The Vinci Code."The film’s producers could not be reached for comment. Amir Muhammad’s documentary 'Lelaki Komunis Terakhir' will hit selected cinemas from May 18.

Boy oh boy.

Over dinner and then bowling last weekend, I found myself wondering why is it that I hang out with people I call my friends. Have we gone so accustomed to each other that we're all infused into each other's lives as something that just....exists there? I suppose friendship is like a dating relationship; you get to know each other, enjoy each other's company, hang out till the sun dries you up, then take each other for granted.

Well well, all things said and done, Friends are for:

1. Hugging

2. Kissing

3. Laughing at you when you're pissed drunk:

If you don't have friends, how are you going to:

1. Have frolics in the sun/water

2. Have a good view of your butt while you're up there:

3. Have 10 bridesmaids at your wedding =)

Note: My status as a futsal virgin will be "debunked" tonight.

Pre-Maturing Syndrome

Yeap, you heard me.
Most of my good friends are guys. I'm not the type to have a flock of boys round the hem of my skirt doing everything I ask them to, but I'm more the type the guys think I'm a guy. That's cool too, kids.
This is very stereotypical, so don't bitch-slap me if you think I wronged you. Just that the majority of the male gender around me really aren't so convincing. Really now, how many times have you heard men/boys using PMS as an excuse as to why their girlfriends are angry? The truth is, you cheesed us off not because we are having PMS and you are some poor little scape goat. It's because you don't understand. True, PMS does make us moody, but really now, it's your ignorance and neanderthalist thoughts that make us want to strangle you. Really wan.
I guess you can after all blame it on PMS. Not ours, but yours.
Here's your checklist on how not to have Pre-Maturing Syndrome:
1. Quit staring at my boobs when you talk to me
2. You like football, fine. Go watch it. At home, not at mine.
3. You can complain all you want about what shit they're giving you at work, but if you don't work hard to change that, you just pull your ears and sit quietly in a corner forever k.
4. Contrary to YOUR popular belief, the rest of the world are NOT trying to get at you. You don't need some ultra high-tech sophisticated system to protect intruders in your home via the front door, back door, slide door, long kang, ventilators, etc. Just get ONE alarm system and get it over with.
5. Aim when you piss.
6. If buying a plasma TV is strictly for football only, buy a cannon and propel yourself to Germany. Do it soon before World Cup starts.
7. Don't ever try to touch my ass in the lift again. I'll kick your family heirloom so hard that you can picture it's being yanked off by a camel.
8. Burping out aloud is not cool, and neither are burping competitions. Imagine your girlfriend and her girlfriends doing that to you.

I can go on and on and on, but I guess some of you will never learn.

But for now, I've to go back to work for a chauvinist.