Friday, March 07, 2008
Humour + Sadness
Hilaripity :- That urge to laugh and shake your head in sympathy at the same time. Frequently occurs when a good friend breaks up with his girl, and when you bring him out to drown his sorrows, he inevitably points out the girl in a group that looks like a carbon copy of her, and tells you "that girl is really hot". It's so funny. But it's so, so heartbreaking.
Idealism.
Cynicism. Now that's a sign of maturity. That and the languid acceptance that once crazy shit is just run-off-the-mill now......
Chinese Cosmopolitan Conundrum
I've been pondering this for a while now. Lend me your opinion.
What would you do if you frequently chance upon foreigners who take a condescending, stereotyped view of the East and disparage your culture or country UNKNOWINGLY?
Here's an example: You meet an American girl. She comments (with much finger-wagging and eye-rolling) "You know when I was in Terengganu? I sooooooo hate the way you people stare at me when I kiss my boyfriend. I mean, it wasn't like we were making out! It's just what couples do, right? And what about that horrible nasi lemak thing? It was so freaking hot! How could you eat something like that?"
Since you're intelligent, empathic, well-educated AND well-travelled, you immediately understand that she doesn't intentionally mean to offend. Her culture is one that encourages her to speak up and express herself, and so she's just giving her opinion on what she finds annoying. You know that she doesn't understand the pride locals take in their cuisine, and that the identities of both are inexoably linked. But you can't help but be pissed off that she's offending local sensibilities by kissing in public, and worse, she's insulting your food!
But you restrain yourself, and you hate it because you understand her culture intimately, and know for a fact that she didn't mean to cause the offence that she did. And you feel so geram that you can't just insult her back, because then you'd be as louche and unaccomodating as she.
Conversely, the moment you say something about real football being played not using the fake egg-shaped thing that huge men throw about on the field, she takes offence, going on about how stupid "soccer" is and how "people back home thinks it's a real dumb sport."
And therein lies my dilemma. Does harmony override pride? Where do you draw the line between "patience" and "doormat"? Does your upbringing and social grace dictate things, or do you allow yourself to ignore your own cultural references and take them on their own ground, using their own rules and logic? Doesn't that make you as uneducated and barbaric as they are? Or do you "do as the Romans do?"
Tell me.
What would you do if you frequently chance upon foreigners who take a condescending, stereotyped view of the East and disparage your culture or country UNKNOWINGLY?
Here's an example: You meet an American girl. She comments (with much finger-wagging and eye-rolling) "You know when I was in Terengganu? I sooooooo hate the way you people stare at me when I kiss my boyfriend. I mean, it wasn't like we were making out! It's just what couples do, right? And what about that horrible nasi lemak thing? It was so freaking hot! How could you eat something like that?"
Since you're intelligent, empathic, well-educated AND well-travelled, you immediately understand that she doesn't intentionally mean to offend. Her culture is one that encourages her to speak up and express herself, and so she's just giving her opinion on what she finds annoying. You know that she doesn't understand the pride locals take in their cuisine, and that the identities of both are inexoably linked. But you can't help but be pissed off that she's offending local sensibilities by kissing in public, and worse, she's insulting your food!
But you restrain yourself, and you hate it because you understand her culture intimately, and know for a fact that she didn't mean to cause the offence that she did. And you feel so geram that you can't just insult her back, because then you'd be as louche and unaccomodating as she.
Conversely, the moment you say something about real football being played not using the fake egg-shaped thing that huge men throw about on the field, she takes offence, going on about how stupid "soccer" is and how "people back home thinks it's a real dumb sport."
And therein lies my dilemma. Does harmony override pride? Where do you draw the line between "patience" and "doormat"? Does your upbringing and social grace dictate things, or do you allow yourself to ignore your own cultural references and take them on their own ground, using their own rules and logic? Doesn't that make you as uneducated and barbaric as they are? Or do you "do as the Romans do?"
Tell me.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
"So when are you getting married?"
What? Has everyone gone nuts all of a sudden? People are barely out of Uni. They're barely starting the rat race. What's with all these marriage talk? What happened to plain old "How are you?" What's with all the tacking on of "So, are you planning to......" at the end? Has it suddenly become acceptable for people in their mid-twenties to talk about marriage? When biological clocks and Asian male cowardice hold hands to overwhelm logic and common sense, suddenly getting hitched jumps into the forefront of our collective consciousness.
I don't mind when old friends ask me "Eh so bila kahwin?" as old friends do after they haven't seen each other for a while. I usually reply with "Eh don't curse me lah... so you leh? Bila kahwin?" Hehe. That's some funny shit. It's even better if you answer with "Aiyah my girlfriend lah. Forgot to use rubber that day. Now I'm puking every morning and got this weird craving for ice kacang. I also don't know how to tell my parents."
Then we got the marriage nazis. Look, I don't mind if you're getting married. That's your choice. On an intellectual level, I might even have the opinion that it's an outdated cultural relic that has no relevance in a world where we might soon see the first female American president. Doesn't mean that I'm not happy for my friends if they tell me they're getting hitched, with that glow on their faces and happiness in their eyes. I grab them and dance a jig with them. What turns me off are some insensitive people who think that just because they're planning to do it, other people have to rush out and do it too. And they ask you "when are you getting married?" in a tone of utter seriousness, even of casual acquaintances.
What gives you the right to ask such a personal question as "so when are you getting married?" Such insolence. Such utter lack of class and social grace. Here's a piece of advice, don't ask someone that unless you're sure they're getting married, or you might find yourself in an awkward situation. You know the saying about people who assume making and ass out of 'u' and 'me'? What makes you think that two people who are together are automatically getting married? Ever thought that asking such a question might be insulting to one or both parties? Ever figured out that you might be impinging upon the privacy and right to self-determination of a relationship?
Next person who asks me that, in a socially unacceptable manner, gets two possible answers.
If you're a guy,"So when do you plan to bring your sister/mother for me to fuck?"
If you're a girl,"So when are you planning on taking it up the ass?"
I don't mind when old friends ask me "Eh so bila kahwin?" as old friends do after they haven't seen each other for a while. I usually reply with "Eh don't curse me lah... so you leh? Bila kahwin?" Hehe. That's some funny shit. It's even better if you answer with "Aiyah my girlfriend lah. Forgot to use rubber that day. Now I'm puking every morning and got this weird craving for ice kacang. I also don't know how to tell my parents."
Then we got the marriage nazis. Look, I don't mind if you're getting married. That's your choice. On an intellectual level, I might even have the opinion that it's an outdated cultural relic that has no relevance in a world where we might soon see the first female American president. Doesn't mean that I'm not happy for my friends if they tell me they're getting hitched, with that glow on their faces and happiness in their eyes. I grab them and dance a jig with them. What turns me off are some insensitive people who think that just because they're planning to do it, other people have to rush out and do it too. And they ask you "when are you getting married?" in a tone of utter seriousness, even of casual acquaintances.
What gives you the right to ask such a personal question as "so when are you getting married?" Such insolence. Such utter lack of class and social grace. Here's a piece of advice, don't ask someone that unless you're sure they're getting married, or you might find yourself in an awkward situation. You know the saying about people who assume making and ass out of 'u' and 'me'? What makes you think that two people who are together are automatically getting married? Ever thought that asking such a question might be insulting to one or both parties? Ever figured out that you might be impinging upon the privacy and right to self-determination of a relationship?
Next person who asks me that, in a socially unacceptable manner, gets two possible answers.
If you're a guy,"So when do you plan to bring your sister/mother for me to fuck?"
If you're a girl,"So when are you planning on taking it up the ass?"
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Pet peeves
1. When I overhear an argument between morons, both with their facts wrong.....
"Eh Yugoslovakia lah!"
"No no! Czechoslovakia and Serbia were both part of Bosnia-Herzegovina!"
............. niama. Worse than nails scratching on blackboard. What the fuck is a Yugoslovakia?
2. Fake tits.
3. Primary schoolkids practicing "the shuffle", which brings me to...
4. Ah Bengs.
5. DOTA. Get a life.
6. Radio deejays on the 'hit stations' spewing a million words a minute when talking to people who call in. They're like banner ads on a website: A lot of noise but no content.
7. People who repeat hearsay as gospel. "I heard...." "They say...." Here's a tip, unless it's first-hand info, it's usually bullshit. And you're a dumbass for believing bullshit.
8. Fuckers who use the word "Bro..." in inappropriate context. They'll bro the waiters, the ushers, the fucking bouncers, the bartenders and every one of the help, and then turn around and complain to their friends about the atrocious service. What the fuck? Your brother wut! You settle it lah!
9. Obviously beta fuckers who brag and try to show-off about the number of girls they've banged. Same goes for girls who brag about the number of boyfriends they've had. Ish. Attention deficit meh? Who cares??
10. Feminazis. Let's not get started.
11. The fuckers who study overseas for a few years, then come back and speak to their own people with the 'fili-feleh' accent. Diu lei lou mou chau hai...... Oh you understand ah? I thought you guai lou! Sorry ah! :)
12. People(pronounced "Soh-hais") who drive slowly in the fast lane, or worst yet, drive slowly while hogging both lanes.
13. Taxi drivers. Oh wait. I'm being redundant.
13. Mercedes drivers. Oh wait. I'm being redundant again.
14. Subang drivers. Oh wait... again. Sorry.
15. Seeing melt-your-shoes-off-hot girls with ugly-looking dudes.
"Eh Yugoslovakia lah!"
"No no! Czechoslovakia and Serbia were both part of Bosnia-Herzegovina!"
............. niama. Worse than nails scratching on blackboard. What the fuck is a Yugoslovakia?
2. Fake tits.
3. Primary schoolkids practicing "the shuffle", which brings me to...
4. Ah Bengs.
5. DOTA. Get a life.
6. Radio deejays on the 'hit stations' spewing a million words a minute when talking to people who call in. They're like banner ads on a website: A lot of noise but no content.
7. People who repeat hearsay as gospel. "I heard...." "They say...." Here's a tip, unless it's first-hand info, it's usually bullshit. And you're a dumbass for believing bullshit.
8. Fuckers who use the word "Bro..." in inappropriate context. They'll bro the waiters, the ushers, the fucking bouncers, the bartenders and every one of the help, and then turn around and complain to their friends about the atrocious service. What the fuck? Your brother wut! You settle it lah!
9. Obviously beta fuckers who brag and try to show-off about the number of girls they've banged. Same goes for girls who brag about the number of boyfriends they've had. Ish. Attention deficit meh? Who cares??
10. Feminazis. Let's not get started.
11. The fuckers who study overseas for a few years, then come back and speak to their own people with the 'fili-feleh' accent. Diu lei lou mou chau hai...... Oh you understand ah? I thought you guai lou! Sorry ah! :)
12. People(pronounced "Soh-hais") who drive slowly in the fast lane, or worst yet, drive slowly while hogging both lanes.
13. Taxi drivers. Oh wait. I'm being redundant.
13. Mercedes drivers. Oh wait. I'm being redundant again.
14. Subang drivers. Oh wait... again. Sorry.
15. Seeing melt-your-shoes-off-hot girls with ugly-looking dudes.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Lush, Kaki Botol, Alcoholic, Bar Fly, Drunkard
While (tee-)totally sober last night, I had an epiphany (Oh it was horrible. Whoever it was that said enlightenment would set you free must have been totally coked up or shot up)...
First, some background: Flooded to the gills with antibiotics and some insanely powerful flu meds (which incidentally cost me half an arm and my first-born) to treat my persistent cough-till-I-tear, blood-stained-snot, viscous-vicious-brown-phlegm flu, I was (for once) scared enough to follow the instructions on the zip-loc medicine baggies and take my meds religiously. I also figured that meds and Mr Johnnie Walker probably wouldn't get along together, hence my total abstention from alcohol on a Thursday night at Maison. Yes, almost unforgivable, I know. Unless you're on fucking-scare-my-socks-off pseudoephedrine.
And thus, after a long night of swilling water, standing awkwardly around and not dancing or making friends with strangers, I come to a horrifying realisation: I might just have become one of those people who only become interesting after a few drinks...
My heart started thumping and the ego was reeling in horror while the id calmly slapped the facts into its face.
"Boy! When was the last time you partied sober? Are you afraid to go talk to the strange people at the next table tonight? What the hell happened to your footloose dancing? Where are the laughing crowds and the adoring women tonight?"
My mind gasped and thrashed at the audacious bluntness and the possibility that it.... just.... might.... be..... *horror of horrors*..... true! Was I really a lush? Could I have been seduced by the same party culture (giving in to the uniquely Asian practice of equating drinking alcohol with giving face) that I've struggled so far to avoid?
No no... It wasn't the only reason. My mind finally filtered through the scare-mongering unleashed upon it by a latently evil subconscious. It was a combination of being sick, stress and sleep deprivation that mainly caused my lack of spirit, although the other "lack of spirits" was admittedly not helping me lose my inhibitions.
One good thing came out of it though. I'm not going clubbing for the foreseeable future. Got to get back into shape after the joys of Chinese New Year eating and drinking, the ultra-killer 3 week flu, and the string of hard-partying late nights that have been a mainstay of my calendar for the past 2 months. I look in the mirror now and my abs have gone into hibernation under a nice warm layer of insulation, my muscle tone's shot to shit, and my face looks like I'm actually 26(instead of 18), for once.
You want a new year's resolution? Being washed out and tired from bad living sure is a good motivator for one, and no prizes for guessing what it is.
First, some background: Flooded to the gills with antibiotics and some insanely powerful flu meds (which incidentally cost me half an arm and my first-born) to treat my persistent cough-till-I-tear, blood-stained-snot, viscous-vicious-brown-phlegm flu, I was (for once) scared enough to follow the instructions on the zip-loc medicine baggies and take my meds religiously. I also figured that meds and Mr Johnnie Walker probably wouldn't get along together, hence my total abstention from alcohol on a Thursday night at Maison. Yes, almost unforgivable, I know. Unless you're on fucking-scare-my-socks-off pseudoephedrine.
And thus, after a long night of swilling water, standing awkwardly around and not dancing or making friends with strangers, I come to a horrifying realisation: I might just have become one of those people who only become interesting after a few drinks...
My heart started thumping and the ego was reeling in horror while the id calmly slapped the facts into its face.
"Boy! When was the last time you partied sober? Are you afraid to go talk to the strange people at the next table tonight? What the hell happened to your footloose dancing? Where are the laughing crowds and the adoring women tonight?"
My mind gasped and thrashed at the audacious bluntness and the possibility that it.... just.... might.... be..... *horror of horrors*..... true! Was I really a lush? Could I have been seduced by the same party culture (giving in to the uniquely Asian practice of equating drinking alcohol with giving face) that I've struggled so far to avoid?
No no... It wasn't the only reason. My mind finally filtered through the scare-mongering unleashed upon it by a latently evil subconscious. It was a combination of being sick, stress and sleep deprivation that mainly caused my lack of spirit, although the other "lack of spirits" was admittedly not helping me lose my inhibitions.
One good thing came out of it though. I'm not going clubbing for the foreseeable future. Got to get back into shape after the joys of Chinese New Year eating and drinking, the ultra-killer 3 week flu, and the string of hard-partying late nights that have been a mainstay of my calendar for the past 2 months. I look in the mirror now and my abs have gone into hibernation under a nice warm layer of insulation, my muscle tone's shot to shit, and my face looks like I'm actually 26(instead of 18), for once.
You want a new year's resolution? Being washed out and tired from bad living sure is a good motivator for one, and no prizes for guessing what it is.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Arsebook.
I swear, if Facebook gets any more addictive, we'll have rich kids snorting lines of (Super)Poke from the arsecracks of hookers, psychologists will study the urge to draw imaginary rectangles around people and 'tag' them, people will start popping $1 virtual gifts instead of Ecstasy, sheep and cows will be defenestrated by zombie ninjas, and possession of over 2kgs of "new notifications", or 500g of "please confirm friend details" will be punishable by death in Malaysia.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
I met Sailor-Girl again.....
...... she's still as gorgeous, still as big-hearted, still as twinkly-eyed as ever, and she still gives me that heady, terrifying, delicious sensation that I'm doing a running jump off the edge with my heart in my mouth. So, so, SO hard to resist......
Friday, December 28, 2007
60 Things I did in December.
The past month, I.........
....... have gone jogging in-2C weather.
.......and a mini bottle of Jaegermeister.
....... have gone jogging in-2C weather.
2....... baked an ENTIRE trout.....
........in salt.
........in salt.
3....... lived the road-trip cliche, driving in a junk car with 2 great(drunk) friends......
...... while getting drunk in the car......
....... and singing at the top of my voice to the Beach Boys. "SURFINNNN........ YEW ESS EHHHHHHH!!!"I'm cringing so hard now in embarrasment that my upper eyelids are wrapped around my nostrils.
...... while getting drunk in the car......
....... and singing at the top of my voice to the Beach Boys. "SURFINNNN........ YEW ESS EHHHHHHH!!!"I'm cringing so hard now in embarrasment that my upper eyelids are wrapped around my nostrils.
4....... went to a Santa Claus theme party, replete with hot, drunk elves......
.........where we teased a cute girl about her big breasts and short legs.
.........where we teased a cute girl about her big breasts and short legs.
5....... tried Karsk - coffee and home-made moonshine (90% alcohol!!!)
6....... beat the cheating locals at their own drinking game using Scandinavian trivia.
6....... beat the cheating locals at their own drinking game using Scandinavian trivia.
7....... almost bought a girl from Lappland for 50 Camels ( 1 camel = 2 reindeer, according to the Drunkard's Exchange Rate)
8.......met a very sweet farm girl with 9.5 fingers.
9....... ransacked her fridge and stole her housemates' food to cook after the party......
10.......was invited to breakfast at the same place the next morning, where I realised that the wildest parties end with milk served in broken glasses......
.......and a mini bottle of Jaegermeister.
12....... gave someone a 10000 km surprise visit.
13....... was spoilt rotten by someone else's grandma, who -like most grandmas- stuffed us full of food, sent us to play pingpong in her (really cool, and really cold) basement, and then had coffee and really nice cake ready for us when we were finished. Thanks Erlend's Grandma! We love you!
14...... gone 4 days without showering. And no, I didn't stink on the 4th day. I just couldn't stand that stifling reminder in my head going "oh god oh god you have to shower you're gonna stink and get skin disease and itch like crazy oh god oh god oh god...."
15..... tried to slide around a slippery icy cemetery car park with an '85 Camry in fog at night.
16...... was almost ass-raped by two good friends.
17...... went to Hell and back. Hell hath freezeth over. And it's just next to Trondheim airport in Vaernes.
18...... watched 'Bad Santa', one of the most awesome Christmas movies ever (that has nothing to do with Christmas :) Makes me wanna grab a Santa suit, a hot girl, and a beaten-up American car with squeaky springs.
19...... seen a good friend happily dress up in drag. My eyes!! Oh my eyes!!!
20...... collected so many empty cans and bottles from Tore's tiny apartment that we could sell them for close to 400 kroners(almost RM300!!)
21...... laughed my ass off when Erlend pelted his father with snowballs when he saw his father peeing outdoors, causing him to wet his trousers.
22...... watched my first episode of "Californication". It was awesome.
23...... expelled an egg-fart so awesomely, disgustingly smelly that it almost made the driver throw up, and woke up the passenger in the backseat, who immediately shouted at me with a lot of bad words, questioning my breeding, parentage, and sexual habits. I should explain that it was revenge for calling me JungleBoy and blaming me for any funny smell they picked up. I told them while they were gagging that THIS was the JungleBoy fart, and that they'd never mistake any other smell for it.
24...... gone snowboarding, and promptly crashed at high speed on the last run of the day, fucking up my ribs and knee.
25...... made trout pasta......
........AWESOME!!!!!
26...... made brown snow.
27...... watched sheep fucking in the winter. The perverted-looking guy in overalls helped a bit too.....
28...... learnt that my friend has a cute little squealy snorty pig as a pet.
29...... met a tiny (but amazing) girl who trains for endurance by running 20km every alternate day in winter. And then drinks Cognac at night.
30...... saw friendly horses in snow.
31...... stood on a corner of a shopping mall just to watch people slip and fall on icy ground.
32...... saw friendly ducks in snow.
33......was carsick everytime I got in the car, because they drove on the wrong side of the road.
34...... had a very patriotic Norwegian try to convince me that "The 300" was a Norwegian film, and that Tacos are a Norwegian food. Dumb-ass.
35......was invited to a Santa Claus party......
......where I didn't know a single soul....
...... but we decided to get smashed
...... and ended up becoming best friends with everyone!
36......witnessed how those vikings drink.
38...... enjoyed FRESH cod. From the sea. Steamed in its own juices. Ho ho ho.
39...... ate risgrøt... Yes it looks grisly. No, I don't like it.
40...... helped to built a jungle playground in the forest, for kids at the school nearby.
.......we're not fooling around. It was for 'testing' purposes.
41...... took a ride on a snow-scooter.
42...... was driven on ice by an ex-World Rally Championship driver.
43...... watched my parents ski and snowball fight for the first time.
"Ouch!"
44...... stood on my head in the snow.
45...... witnessed beauty, everyday.
46...... infected gwailous with the phrases "yes-ah?" and "nice-ah?" and "You want ham lan?"
47...... bought Jamie Oliver's "Jamie's Italy", which I've been eyeing for such a long time.
48...... been out to sea on a fishing boat in winter.
49...... been doing indoor climbing.
50...... gotten so drunk I puked for the very first time. Half a bottle of Glenfiddich, 2 gin tonics, a beer, some wine, and a lot of homemade moonshine mixed with tea. Oh, and another pint of beer and a quarter bottle of Bombay Sapphire. Even Silje's squealing "Khai TSAAAHHHH".......
....... while trying to lick me didn't scare me much anymore. I actually picked her up!
........and I was sociable.....
.....really....
.....really....
.....really....
..... really sociable :)
51...... took pictures with strangers.
52...... Met the legendary Polsa, or "Sausage" for the first time. There are two stories why he's known as The Sausage, but neither are fit for public consumption.
53...... wrapped myself in a giant quilt, and later walked down the road with it when we went for supper, because it was cold, and I was drunk.
54...... played with pussy while cards were strapped to my head.
55...... read the very controversial (and banned on pain of incarceration in Malaysia) Salman Rushdie book, "The Satanic Verses".
56...... had my specs stolen by a naughty elf.....
...... but I got them back.
57...... was hugged by a cute girl.
58...... Became very good friends with a very drunk, but very kind Knut who shared his gin with me as we stumbled to the club, all the while promising me he would save me if there was a fight.
59...... was almost licked by Erlend's cute blonde (drunk) sister.
60...... was hugged by a really, REALLY nice girl :)
It's a hard life *sigh* ;) But someone's gotta live it!!! HAHAHA! A very Happy New Year to all my friends. Wishing you multiple orgasms everyday!
13....... was spoilt rotten by someone else's grandma, who -like most grandmas- stuffed us full of food, sent us to play pingpong in her (really cool, and really cold) basement, and then had coffee and really nice cake ready for us when we were finished. Thanks Erlend's Grandma! We love you!
14...... gone 4 days without showering. And no, I didn't stink on the 4th day. I just couldn't stand that stifling reminder in my head going "oh god oh god you have to shower you're gonna stink and get skin disease and itch like crazy oh god oh god oh god...."
15..... tried to slide around a slippery icy cemetery car park with an '85 Camry in fog at night.
16...... was almost ass-raped by two good friends.
17...... went to Hell and back. Hell hath freezeth over. And it's just next to Trondheim airport in Vaernes.
18...... watched 'Bad Santa', one of the most awesome Christmas movies ever (that has nothing to do with Christmas :) Makes me wanna grab a Santa suit, a hot girl, and a beaten-up American car with squeaky springs.
19...... seen a good friend happily dress up in drag. My eyes!! Oh my eyes!!!
20...... collected so many empty cans and bottles from Tore's tiny apartment that we could sell them for close to 400 kroners(almost RM300!!)
21...... laughed my ass off when Erlend pelted his father with snowballs when he saw his father peeing outdoors, causing him to wet his trousers.
22...... watched my first episode of "Californication". It was awesome.
23...... expelled an egg-fart so awesomely, disgustingly smelly that it almost made the driver throw up, and woke up the passenger in the backseat, who immediately shouted at me with a lot of bad words, questioning my breeding, parentage, and sexual habits. I should explain that it was revenge for calling me JungleBoy and blaming me for any funny smell they picked up. I told them while they were gagging that THIS was the JungleBoy fart, and that they'd never mistake any other smell for it.
24...... gone snowboarding, and promptly crashed at high speed on the last run of the day, fucking up my ribs and knee.
25...... made trout pasta......
........AWESOME!!!!!
26...... made brown snow.
28...... learnt that my friend has a cute little squealy snorty pig as a pet.
29...... met a tiny (but amazing) girl who trains for endurance by running 20km every alternate day in winter. And then drinks Cognac at night.
30...... saw friendly horses in snow.
31...... stood on a corner of a shopping mall just to watch people slip and fall on icy ground.32...... saw friendly ducks in snow.
33......was carsick everytime I got in the car, because they drove on the wrong side of the road.
34...... had a very patriotic Norwegian try to convince me that "The 300" was a Norwegian film, and that Tacos are a Norwegian food. Dumb-ass.
35......was invited to a Santa Claus party......
......where I didn't know a single soul....
...... but we decided to get smashed
...... and ended up becoming best friends with everyone!
36......witnessed how those vikings drink.
37...... ate fresh giant scallops......
......and SCALLOP ROE!
......and SCALLOP ROE!
38...... enjoyed FRESH cod. From the sea. Steamed in its own juices. Ho ho ho.
39...... ate risgrøt... Yes it looks grisly. No, I don't like it.
40...... helped to built a jungle playground in the forest, for kids at the school nearby.
.......we're not fooling around. It was for 'testing' purposes.
41...... took a ride on a snow-scooter.
42...... was driven on ice by an ex-World Rally Championship driver.
43...... watched my parents ski and snowball fight for the first time.
"Ouch!"
44...... stood on my head in the snow.
45...... witnessed beauty, everyday.
46...... infected gwailous with the phrases "yes-ah?" and "nice-ah?" and "You want ham lan?"
47...... bought Jamie Oliver's "Jamie's Italy", which I've been eyeing for such a long time.
48...... been out to sea on a fishing boat in winter.
49...... been doing indoor climbing.
50...... gotten so drunk I puked for the very first time. Half a bottle of Glenfiddich, 2 gin tonics, a beer, some wine, and a lot of homemade moonshine mixed with tea. Oh, and another pint of beer and a quarter bottle of Bombay Sapphire. Even Silje's squealing "Khai TSAAAHHHH".......
....... while trying to lick me didn't scare me much anymore. I actually picked her up!
........and I was sociable.....
.....really....
.....really....
.....really....
..... really sociable :)
51...... took pictures with strangers.
52...... Met the legendary Polsa, or "Sausage" for the first time. There are two stories why he's known as The Sausage, but neither are fit for public consumption.
53...... wrapped myself in a giant quilt, and later walked down the road with it when we went for supper, because it was cold, and I was drunk.
54...... played with pussy while cards were strapped to my head.
55...... read the very controversial (and banned on pain of incarceration in Malaysia) Salman Rushdie book, "The Satanic Verses".
56...... had my specs stolen by a naughty elf.....
...... but I got them back.
57...... was hugged by a cute girl.
58...... Became very good friends with a very drunk, but very kind Knut who shared his gin with me as we stumbled to the club, all the while promising me he would save me if there was a fight.
59...... was almost licked by Erlend's cute blonde (drunk) sister.
60...... was hugged by a really, REALLY nice girl :)
It's a hard life *sigh* ;) But someone's gotta live it!!! HAHAHA! A very Happy New Year to all my friends. Wishing you multiple orgasms everyday!
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Cheap gas, otherwise known as incest
Background: Tore works at an Esso gas station, and he gets a 50 cent discount on petrol, and he was trying to explain it to me. Erlend and I, being real evil motherfuckers, naturally jump on every chance to punk anyone we see.
Tore:....... so I get like, a 50 cent discount on every litre.
Khai Tzer: Is there a limit to how much you can pump?
Tore: Nah.... There's no limit.
Khai Tzer: So you can 'pump' as much as you want? (Trying to get Tore to use the word 'pump' in a compromising manner.
Tore: Yeah. So the other day right? I was pumping my er....
Khai Tzer: Girlfriend? Hot chick?
Tore: ........ my sister's....
Khai Tzer and Erlend: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Tore: NO NO NO NO NO!! My sister's car!
KT and Erlend: BWWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAAHAHA!
Tore: Shit! You motherfuckers!
KT: At least I don't PUMP my sisters!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
Tore:....... so I get like, a 50 cent discount on every litre.
Khai Tzer: Is there a limit to how much you can pump?
Tore: Nah.... There's no limit.
Khai Tzer: So you can 'pump' as much as you want? (Trying to get Tore to use the word 'pump' in a compromising manner.
Tore: Yeah. So the other day right? I was pumping my er....
Khai Tzer: Girlfriend? Hot chick?
Tore: ........ my sister's....
Khai Tzer and Erlend: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Tore: NO NO NO NO NO!! My sister's car!
KT and Erlend: BWWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAAHAHA!
Tore: Shit! You motherfuckers!
KT: At least I don't PUMP my sisters!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Proton thinking of producing "Islamic Car".....
......with a compass that points permanently towards Mecca, and a compartment to store the Qur-an.
I kid you not:
http://www.autoblog.com/2007/11/12/proton-may-build-worlds-first-islamic-car/
I kid you not:
http://www.autoblog.com/2007/11/12/proton-may-build-worlds-first-islamic-car/
Friday, October 05, 2007
Come Boy! Come take pitcher!
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
The blurred line between "want" and "need"
- A pro flickr account. US$24.95.
- A Shun 8" chef knife. About RM500. Drool.
- A few bottles of my favourite Red Island olive oil. I swear, you'll finally understand what the big fuss is about olive oil when you taste this. (Oil that has taste, you say? Ah-ha! ;) Come over anytime I'll give you a taste from my dwindling supply. Anyone coming back from Australia soon?) I also want to try the Yellingbo Gold I'm hearing so much about. But it's about 80 bucks a bottle. And that's blood-vomitingly expensive for cooking oil. Argh.
- A pair of white and gold Adidas sneakers
- A few big huge 24" LCD screens. They're already less than 1k each nowadays so it's really tempting.
- A nice pair of loafers. When's the next Hush Puppies warehouse sale?
- iPhone.
Monday, September 24, 2007
"NO NO NO! Lei tehng ngor gohhhng!!!" @ Life Lessons Redux
One of my best friends, Sheng Wai and I used to have this running joke: Whenever we wanted to give our opinions or offer unsolicited advice to each other, we'd place one hand on our hips, wag the index finger of the other hand, shake our heads in "wise contemplation", and preface any incoming cock-talk with "*mou mou mou...... lei tehng ngor gohhhhngg....." like those old uncles at Chinese coffeeshops who spend their mornings spouting cock to one another. Oftentimes, the forthcoming nonsense was overwhelmed by belly-aching laughter.
*"no no no... you listen to meeeeeeeeee......."
It's not so funny nowadays. If we still use the phrase, more often than not it's accompanied by a cynical laugh. Sheng Wai actually uses the phrase like he means it *sigh*.
IMHO, Growing up is the hardest piece of shit that you will ever experience. And despite your parents' best efforts at protecting you and shielding you, there are no shortcuts. When you attend the "How to be a grown-up" school, you have to learn every lesson.
If you're a protected little brat, Life will eventually dig you out of your velvet vault, and then throw the lessons at you with all the violence you can imagine. The best you can hope for is that every lesson you learn doesn't scar you, give you phobias, or otherwise leave an impression that will mar every interaction you have for the rest of your life.
Recently I've been getting this sick-in-the stomach feeling everytime I learn something new. A lot of people would consider themselves grown-up at my age, knowing enough not to kill themselves if left unsupervised - Don't play with scissors, don't play with fire, don't punch the bully who has 4 grunts with him and is double your size.... That sort of thing.
I'm fairly confident that I've learned enough to survive, but I honestly doubt if I've learnt enough to thrive. The old "The more you learn, the more you realise there's so much you don't know" adage, right? Nowadays It's almost like there's a monotonous tape recorder repeating that line whenever there's something to learn.
Probably the only thing keeping me sane is that at least I'm aware of it, and how easy it is for a lesser mind to just close off, take life's lessons at face value, and just let your prejudices colour every experience you have, choosing only to see what you want to see, and stop learning altogether. That's what causes misunderstandings and wars and a desperate need in the human psyche to impose his or her beliefs upon others.
The last weekend while we were eating a very awesome, very delicious dim sum brunch in Ipoh, a skinny old man who was waiting to pay the bill approached out table, pointed to a half-eaten fried dumpling, and said jokingly,"You're not allowed to leave if you don't finish that."
I turned around and gave him the obligatory non-committal smile that you reserve for uninvited old men who make stale jokes to strangers, saying nothing. We were all surprised at his interruption into our conversation, and I bet every single last one of us was wondering when this irritating man was going to leave us in peace. I for one was fixated on the bill he was holding, and was willing him with all my non-existent psychic power to walk that extra one meter to the counter behind us, present his bill, and leave us the hell alone. Thanks to our Chinese upbringing, none of us grown adults could bring ourselves to tell the old gentleman that he was interrupting us.
He started talking and asking us questions, and slowly but surely, my irritation turned into curiosity and eventually, to fascination. He started out acting like a typical old man, forgetful and overbearing, asking my name a few times and forgetting it each time. But after he told us his life story, and after I found out he was 84, I was astounded beyond belief. He still had all the hair on his head(and most of it was still black!!!) and I could see he had all his own teeth! My god, I thought, he's 84 and still walking straight, visiting his favourite breakfast spot 6 out of 7 days a week, and he had a good enough sense of humour and natural curiosity to strike up a conversation with total strangers( who weren't too friendly, I might add). What struck me most of all was this joie de vivre, this enjoyment of life, of wanting to know and learn about people. I probed and found out that he had a business distributing fabric and clothes, a huge shop, and best of all, he was still active in business, managing the accounts and keeping track of stock while he let his children manage the place.
The old uncle never once said "lei tehng ngor gohng", and was humble to a tee. I could see in his shirt and watch that he was a wealthy dude, but this didn't stop him from being friendly, even to people who didn't want to talk to him at first. Asked the secret of his health, he told us this, which I have read time and time again in many interviews with very old people: Listen to your body. Don't consume what it can't stand, and everything in moderation. Very consistent logic.
He left us with this gem: Woh hei, or "harmony" in Cantonese, was all-important. Do not insult or cross others, and to give way whenever possible. Very very zen, but he was nothing if not successful, was happy, and had a huge family, and I wasn't about to allow a morsel of wisdom, gleaned from almost a century in experience, pass me by. I haven't yet fully digested the implications of giving way instead of fighting, but you can bet that I will. Life is too short to make my own mistakes.
*"no no no... you listen to meeeeeeeeee......."
It's not so funny nowadays. If we still use the phrase, more often than not it's accompanied by a cynical laugh. Sheng Wai actually uses the phrase like he means it *sigh*.
IMHO, Growing up is the hardest piece of shit that you will ever experience. And despite your parents' best efforts at protecting you and shielding you, there are no shortcuts. When you attend the "How to be a grown-up" school, you have to learn every lesson.
If you're a protected little brat, Life will eventually dig you out of your velvet vault, and then throw the lessons at you with all the violence you can imagine. The best you can hope for is that every lesson you learn doesn't scar you, give you phobias, or otherwise leave an impression that will mar every interaction you have for the rest of your life.
Recently I've been getting this sick-in-the stomach feeling everytime I learn something new. A lot of people would consider themselves grown-up at my age, knowing enough not to kill themselves if left unsupervised - Don't play with scissors, don't play with fire, don't punch the bully who has 4 grunts with him and is double your size.... That sort of thing.
I'm fairly confident that I've learned enough to survive, but I honestly doubt if I've learnt enough to thrive. The old "The more you learn, the more you realise there's so much you don't know" adage, right? Nowadays It's almost like there's a monotonous tape recorder repeating that line whenever there's something to learn.
Probably the only thing keeping me sane is that at least I'm aware of it, and how easy it is for a lesser mind to just close off, take life's lessons at face value, and just let your prejudices colour every experience you have, choosing only to see what you want to see, and stop learning altogether. That's what causes misunderstandings and wars and a desperate need in the human psyche to impose his or her beliefs upon others.
The last weekend while we were eating a very awesome, very delicious dim sum brunch in Ipoh, a skinny old man who was waiting to pay the bill approached out table, pointed to a half-eaten fried dumpling, and said jokingly,"You're not allowed to leave if you don't finish that."
I turned around and gave him the obligatory non-committal smile that you reserve for uninvited old men who make stale jokes to strangers, saying nothing. We were all surprised at his interruption into our conversation, and I bet every single last one of us was wondering when this irritating man was going to leave us in peace. I for one was fixated on the bill he was holding, and was willing him with all my non-existent psychic power to walk that extra one meter to the counter behind us, present his bill, and leave us the hell alone. Thanks to our Chinese upbringing, none of us grown adults could bring ourselves to tell the old gentleman that he was interrupting us.
He started talking and asking us questions, and slowly but surely, my irritation turned into curiosity and eventually, to fascination. He started out acting like a typical old man, forgetful and overbearing, asking my name a few times and forgetting it each time. But after he told us his life story, and after I found out he was 84, I was astounded beyond belief. He still had all the hair on his head(and most of it was still black!!!) and I could see he had all his own teeth! My god, I thought, he's 84 and still walking straight, visiting his favourite breakfast spot 6 out of 7 days a week, and he had a good enough sense of humour and natural curiosity to strike up a conversation with total strangers( who weren't too friendly, I might add). What struck me most of all was this joie de vivre, this enjoyment of life, of wanting to know and learn about people. I probed and found out that he had a business distributing fabric and clothes, a huge shop, and best of all, he was still active in business, managing the accounts and keeping track of stock while he let his children manage the place.
The old uncle never once said "lei tehng ngor gohng", and was humble to a tee. I could see in his shirt and watch that he was a wealthy dude, but this didn't stop him from being friendly, even to people who didn't want to talk to him at first. Asked the secret of his health, he told us this, which I have read time and time again in many interviews with very old people: Listen to your body. Don't consume what it can't stand, and everything in moderation. Very consistent logic.
He left us with this gem: Woh hei, or "harmony" in Cantonese, was all-important. Do not insult or cross others, and to give way whenever possible. Very very zen, but he was nothing if not successful, was happy, and had a huge family, and I wasn't about to allow a morsel of wisdom, gleaned from almost a century in experience, pass me by. I haven't yet fully digested the implications of giving way instead of fighting, but you can bet that I will. Life is too short to make my own mistakes.
Monday, September 03, 2007
Merdeka?
Freedom? from what? The systematic wasting and destruction of our young minds? The ego-fueled power-madness of the "People's Servants"? The rampant corruption that forces the regular joes to be selfish survivalists?
So we've traded colonial imperialism for tribal feuding. Yay. Now we can have potholed roads, disappearing public funds, and institutionalised racism. Such joy. Can't you hear me laughing in such glee at the barbaric insistence by certain quarters that we live in harmony and peace, in freedom as equals, but they are 'more equal' than others (like the pigs in Orwell's "Animal Farm")? And any attempt to comment about the situation will be met with ominous threats of murder and slaughter shall the perpetrator return from Taiwan?
Freedom of religion? Apparently a consitutional monarchy is now an Islamic State.
A social contract is basically a promise of loyalty and service by an entity, in return for protection and support by another entity(I fear repercussions you see? Peace and harmony and black Pajeros and all that - and have thus written these post as vaguely as possible so that only the enlightened will understand my words), and as far as I'm concerned, the entity that promised protection and support failed to do so. That's a voided contract, in my humble opinion.
Merdeka? Fireworks and happy parades saluting thieves and knaves? I feel more shackled than ever, you bastards.
So we've traded colonial imperialism for tribal feuding. Yay. Now we can have potholed roads, disappearing public funds, and institutionalised racism. Such joy. Can't you hear me laughing in such glee at the barbaric insistence by certain quarters that we live in harmony and peace, in freedom as equals, but they are 'more equal' than others (like the pigs in Orwell's "Animal Farm")? And any attempt to comment about the situation will be met with ominous threats of murder and slaughter shall the perpetrator return from Taiwan?
Freedom of religion? Apparently a consitutional monarchy is now an Islamic State.
A social contract is basically a promise of loyalty and service by an entity, in return for protection and support by another entity(I fear repercussions you see? Peace and harmony and black Pajeros and all that - and have thus written these post as vaguely as possible so that only the enlightened will understand my words), and as far as I'm concerned, the entity that promised protection and support failed to do so. That's a voided contract, in my humble opinion.
Merdeka? Fireworks and happy parades saluting thieves and knaves? I feel more shackled than ever, you bastards.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Undercompensating......
You know what they say about people driving big cars because they're compensating for small willies?
Well, I don't mean to brag, but I drive a Kancil.......
:)) AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...
Well, I don't mean to brag, but I drive a Kancil.......
:)) AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...
The Rise of Anti-Socialism
By and far, I'm glad to be staying in KL. There's so much to do, so many people to meet, so many opportunities, all the hot Ipoh girls I know have already moved here, etc. etc.
Anyway, life is supposed to be good and fun and everyone's happy and contented (Porsche crashes and snatch thefts excepted).
However, there's one thing that annoys me just a tad: the assholes who are supposed to be your neighbours. Come on, man. Did you go to school, or what? Didn't your teacher teach you to be polite? Or maybe your parents are barbarians, is that it? Kurang ajar, betul........
Not all of them, mind you. The guy in the next apartment is friendly. I mean, I don't know his name, but we greet each other in the morning, or when we're in the lift. You can be mindful of your privacy, but that doesn't stop us from being polite. Is a 'hi' or a 'Good morning' that hard to learn?
The bunch of cunts in the apartment on my other side, however.....
Just now, when the lift opened and I saw two of the fugly warts inside, I controlled my gag reflex and asked, "Going up?" politely. They glanced at me like I carried airborne venereal disease, didn't reply, and just stood there like two retarded little gargoyles, not even bothering to make space in a lift that could definitely fit more than the 3 of us. Machauhai. You think your lift ah? As I entered the lift, I satisfied myself with the thought that the two warts would probably die, old and unhappy and unloved, in a pile of their own detritus and smelling of old aunty underwear. I didn't even bother to say goodnight to the assholes when I reached my apartment.
There are a whole bunch of them, maybe 6 or more, sharing the apartment next door. They always come back from work dressed in some ugly diaorrhea-coloured yellow jacket, and every single last one of them is as antisocial as the other. If you say hi to them, they stare at you, aghast that you're being polite, as if it were a contagious disease and they would explode into piles of ugly little diaorrhea-coloured flesh if they reciprocated.
Assholes.
The other group stays in the apartment opposite mine. Bunch of students. Herd of students, more like. One of them (who has a fat ass) thinks that she's God's gift to men, judging from the pat-poh look she gave me when we bumped into each other in the corridor. And if there's one thing I despise more than lansi girls, it's ugly lansi girls. She GRIMACED at me in some awful attempt to smile when I gave her a friendly grin. I could hear her mind going "ewww", and I sighed deep inside, disappointed once again at the prevalent "anti-socialism". The same girl once RECOILED when I was getting out of the lift as she was getting in. By then I couldn't give a rat's ass about assholes like her. I just about resisted flipping the finger as I exited.
One fine day, the wind's going to change direction and her face is going to be stuck in that awful grimace forever....... I hope :)
Anyway, life is supposed to be good and fun and everyone's happy and contented (Porsche crashes and snatch thefts excepted).
However, there's one thing that annoys me just a tad: the assholes who are supposed to be your neighbours. Come on, man. Did you go to school, or what? Didn't your teacher teach you to be polite? Or maybe your parents are barbarians, is that it? Kurang ajar, betul........
Not all of them, mind you. The guy in the next apartment is friendly. I mean, I don't know his name, but we greet each other in the morning, or when we're in the lift. You can be mindful of your privacy, but that doesn't stop us from being polite. Is a 'hi' or a 'Good morning' that hard to learn?
The bunch of cunts in the apartment on my other side, however.....
Just now, when the lift opened and I saw two of the fugly warts inside, I controlled my gag reflex and asked, "Going up?" politely. They glanced at me like I carried airborne venereal disease, didn't reply, and just stood there like two retarded little gargoyles, not even bothering to make space in a lift that could definitely fit more than the 3 of us. Machauhai. You think your lift ah? As I entered the lift, I satisfied myself with the thought that the two warts would probably die, old and unhappy and unloved, in a pile of their own detritus and smelling of old aunty underwear. I didn't even bother to say goodnight to the assholes when I reached my apartment.
There are a whole bunch of them, maybe 6 or more, sharing the apartment next door. They always come back from work dressed in some ugly diaorrhea-coloured yellow jacket, and every single last one of them is as antisocial as the other. If you say hi to them, they stare at you, aghast that you're being polite, as if it were a contagious disease and they would explode into piles of ugly little diaorrhea-coloured flesh if they reciprocated.
Assholes.
The other group stays in the apartment opposite mine. Bunch of students. Herd of students, more like. One of them (who has a fat ass) thinks that she's God's gift to men, judging from the pat-poh look she gave me when we bumped into each other in the corridor. And if there's one thing I despise more than lansi girls, it's ugly lansi girls. She GRIMACED at me in some awful attempt to smile when I gave her a friendly grin. I could hear her mind going "ewww", and I sighed deep inside, disappointed once again at the prevalent "anti-socialism". The same girl once RECOILED when I was getting out of the lift as she was getting in. By then I couldn't give a rat's ass about assholes like her. I just about resisted flipping the finger as I exited.
One fine day, the wind's going to change direction and her face is going to be stuck in that awful grimace forever....... I hope :)
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
"Negarakuku"?
So if any of you haven't seen the "negarakuku" video yet.... BWAHAHAHHAHAHAHA. It's the funniest shit I've heard in such a long while.... at least, since the "Muar People's Mandarin" video BWAHAHAHAHAH.
You don't know what I'm talking about? Ok ok, go search for 'negarakuku' on Youtube and watch it first, then come back. But only do so if you know Chinese, and some Hokkien.
Done? Don't you think the "negarakuku" song is so catchy you can't help but be infected by it? I typed the phrase in Google and got more than 90 thousand search results, so I'm not surprised if the young(and overwhelmingly Chinese, in my opinion) fans of Ming Zhi are already busy learning the lyrics to the song.
I'm honestly not surprised by the amount of fervour and the semi-indignant passion this song has stirred up among the disenfranchised Chinese youngsters who have listened to it. I've got friends rushing around desperately spreading 3gpp versions of the file on bluetooth like they were paid by the Muar Dude. One of them asked me "EH EH!! HEARD THE NEGARAKUKU SONG OREDI OR NOT?!?!?!" while grabbing my arm, as if he were informing me that it was now raining pink pussies and lubricant.
I couldn't help laughing at his intense, gangster "negara kooo koooooooOOoooo" at the beginning of the song, and the way he bares his feelings, as a regular guy who feels he's being oppressed. Certainly, the backhanded, ignorant racism will raise hackles, but one can't help but feel that it's merely verbal retaliation, like an injured animal lashing out at it's tormentor. The brutally honest approximation of corruption and inefficiencies that we've all had to deal with are so fucking funny though. When he went on about eating kuih and sleeping guards, I laughed so hard that my neighbours sicced the pigs on me(I went all "boleh settle" on them and of course boleh settle lah, Malaysia what..... and if you believe that really happened then sucking on my meat wand will make you really beautiful, serious).
Latest grinds from the rumour mill report that the goverment are going to throw him in prison for sedition or stirring up the old racial/religious firepot blah blah blah, but Bernama, our venerable news agency, begs to differ, saying that the government can't take action because of some technicality.
But all I'm thinking is.... You fugly Muar Dude, you are going to get SO MUCH PUSSY........
You don't know what I'm talking about? Ok ok, go search for 'negarakuku' on Youtube and watch it first, then come back. But only do so if you know Chinese, and some Hokkien.
Done? Don't you think the "negarakuku" song is so catchy you can't help but be infected by it? I typed the phrase in Google and got more than 90 thousand search results, so I'm not surprised if the young(and overwhelmingly Chinese, in my opinion) fans of Ming Zhi are already busy learning the lyrics to the song.
I'm honestly not surprised by the amount of fervour and the semi-indignant passion this song has stirred up among the disenfranchised Chinese youngsters who have listened to it. I've got friends rushing around desperately spreading 3gpp versions of the file on bluetooth like they were paid by the Muar Dude. One of them asked me "EH EH!! HEARD THE NEGARAKUKU SONG OREDI OR NOT?!?!?!" while grabbing my arm, as if he were informing me that it was now raining pink pussies and lubricant.
I couldn't help laughing at his intense, gangster "negara kooo koooooooOOoooo" at the beginning of the song, and the way he bares his feelings, as a regular guy who feels he's being oppressed. Certainly, the backhanded, ignorant racism will raise hackles, but one can't help but feel that it's merely verbal retaliation, like an injured animal lashing out at it's tormentor. The brutally honest approximation of corruption and inefficiencies that we've all had to deal with are so fucking funny though. When he went on about eating kuih and sleeping guards, I laughed so hard that my neighbours sicced the pigs on me(I went all "boleh settle" on them and of course boleh settle lah, Malaysia what..... and if you believe that really happened then sucking on my meat wand will make you really beautiful, serious).
Latest grinds from the rumour mill report that the goverment are going to throw him in prison for sedition or stirring up the old racial/religious firepot blah blah blah, but Bernama, our venerable news agency, begs to differ, saying that the government can't take action because of some technicality.
But all I'm thinking is.... You fugly Muar Dude, you are going to get SO MUCH PUSSY........
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Dear bookstores, fuck you.
If it wasn't so stupid that you want to bash your head against the wall, the recent Harry Potter fiasco could even be considered funny.
For you hermits who still happily read this blog(Thank you!), 2 hypermarket chains have been selling the latest Harry Potter book at RM69.90, when the big bookstores have been pricing it at RM109.90. Naturally they've been a big hit with the fans of the Harry Potter series, causing the books to fly off the shelves (pun unintended) since the launching.
In a move that shouldn't catch any Keynesian economists or anti-trust regulators by surprise, a few major booksellers have ganged up to launch a media blitz of epic proportions, refusing to sell the books "in protest", and whining to the press about "indiscriminate price discounts", etc etc.
There were also unspoken threats hinting of consumer associations and the domestic trade and consumer affairs ministry.
So in case you didn't read the title....
Dear major bookshops,
Fuck you.
Stop whining like dickless pussies. This isn't communist Russia. There's fuck-all you can do if someone decides to sell the book at whatever price they want to. Wanna protest? Who do you think cares? Your customers? the hypermarkets? The publishers?
Nobody has said anything in the scrubbed-clean, censored-edited-spoon-fed-to-Malaysians daily propaganda newspapers, but I think that the two hypermarts (and correct me here if you do marketing for either of the two) - after mining consumer data using their loyalty cards - figured that young adults and parents who would buy the hardcover book are probably the same people who spend a lot of money when they shop for groceries, and decided, in a fast-moving stroke of marketing genius, to use the hugely popular book as a loss-leader to increase sales in their other products. You know, the "hey since I'm here why don't I just buy my groceries here" tactic. I don't know how much is the profit margin on the book, but I'm betting that they aren't losing any money on the RM70 sales price, and if they are, it's probably negligible, in the form of logistics costs.
I think it's bloody genius, honestly. I wouln't have made the connection. And now the big bookstores - as in the cases of most entrenched monopolies - are crying foul, aghast at the possibility that something as egalitarian and basic as a hypermart actually dares to peddle elite wares such as printed literature. So far, I'm immensely glad that the consumer affairs ministry has lauded the move as great for consumers, as they should.
No doubt their management has met with representatives of the government in an attempt to coerce retailers to stay away from selling books. This is a capitalist country, my friends, at least when it comes to retail products(Sarawak gangsters controlling egg prices notwithstanding), and whether you like it or not, books are not an essential good like rice or sugar, and that makes them fair game for everyone, not just booksellers.
Just goes to show what happens when they remain entrenched and stagnant, don't they?
And just in case you still didn't get it....
Dear bookstores,
Fuck you.
For you hermits who still happily read this blog(Thank you!), 2 hypermarket chains have been selling the latest Harry Potter book at RM69.90, when the big bookstores have been pricing it at RM109.90. Naturally they've been a big hit with the fans of the Harry Potter series, causing the books to fly off the shelves (pun unintended) since the launching.
In a move that shouldn't catch any Keynesian economists or anti-trust regulators by surprise, a few major booksellers have ganged up to launch a media blitz of epic proportions, refusing to sell the books "in protest", and whining to the press about "indiscriminate price discounts", etc etc.
There were also unspoken threats hinting of consumer associations and the domestic trade and consumer affairs ministry.
So in case you didn't read the title....
Dear major bookshops,
Fuck you.
Stop whining like dickless pussies. This isn't communist Russia. There's fuck-all you can do if someone decides to sell the book at whatever price they want to. Wanna protest? Who do you think cares? Your customers? the hypermarkets? The publishers?
Nobody has said anything in the scrubbed-clean, censored-edited-spoon-fed-to-Malaysians daily propaganda newspapers, but I think that the two hypermarts (and correct me here if you do marketing for either of the two) - after mining consumer data using their loyalty cards - figured that young adults and parents who would buy the hardcover book are probably the same people who spend a lot of money when they shop for groceries, and decided, in a fast-moving stroke of marketing genius, to use the hugely popular book as a loss-leader to increase sales in their other products. You know, the "hey since I'm here why don't I just buy my groceries here" tactic. I don't know how much is the profit margin on the book, but I'm betting that they aren't losing any money on the RM70 sales price, and if they are, it's probably negligible, in the form of logistics costs.
I think it's bloody genius, honestly. I wouln't have made the connection. And now the big bookstores - as in the cases of most entrenched monopolies - are crying foul, aghast at the possibility that something as egalitarian and basic as a hypermart actually dares to peddle elite wares such as printed literature. So far, I'm immensely glad that the consumer affairs ministry has lauded the move as great for consumers, as they should.
No doubt their management has met with representatives of the government in an attempt to coerce retailers to stay away from selling books. This is a capitalist country, my friends, at least when it comes to retail products(Sarawak gangsters controlling egg prices notwithstanding), and whether you like it or not, books are not an essential good like rice or sugar, and that makes them fair game for everyone, not just booksellers.
Just goes to show what happens when they remain entrenched and stagnant, don't they?
And just in case you still didn't get it....
Dear bookstores,
Fuck you.
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