Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Fuck James Blunt!

How in the hell did a scrawny, scruffy, creepy-looking Englishman end up singing every real man's secret song of heartbreak? And so fucking brilliantly too. Every soulful, measured piano chord, every nuance of piano or forte, every beautiful, brutally honest word translated into song - all projected by that uncannily melancholy voice - tears apart the long-healed scars left behind on your heart by great loves past and allows the blood of emotion to flow freely once more, at least for as long as the song is played.

It's sacrilegous how James narrates how every boy and man feels after every breakup. Doesn't the idiot realise that in the midst of the heart-rending sobs, swollen eyes, and pitiful wailing from your girl, only your stoicism and cold-hearted poker-face gives you a semblance of respect and dignity? No matter what, the girls must never ever know that you hurt so badly that it aches physically, that you feel like vomiting, that the frustration and sadness welling up inside is close to drowning you, that you eventually break down sobbing like a little girl anyway, only in private, alone, deep in the night when everyone else is asleep, and you feel more alone than the last man on earth. Only the knowledge that she believes you're a cold-hearted bastard could keep the shards of your broken soul together.

But now this idiot has gone and ripped the anguish that every man that has loved and lost harbours - every fiercely-hidden drop of sorrow and anger and frustration - and laid it bare for every girl in the world to see. It's so honest he even goes "goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend......" The love of your life will no doubt have been your best friend, something even more significant than just being your lover. He knows. Oh he knows alright.

What a bastard. What a brilliantly talented, immensely soulful bastard...

Sunday, June 11, 2006

My Mamak Name

Irrelevance. Lame-ness. Stupidity. All words that can be used to describe the existence of the 'mamak name'. It's a feature unique to members of my late-night supper club, the usual suspects who haunt The Chick Showroom, i.e. Tanjung, our regular mamak shop at USJ9.

Regular readers might remember Dass, the friendly waiter and purveyor of breast-roti-canai in the classic post "Prank of the Day". I neglected to mention that Dass doesn't call us by our real names, largely because Botak(in a fit of inspired madness) proudly proclaimed himself "Keanu" when Dass first asked us our names. In the same breath, Botak cackled loudly while rattling the loose screws in his disjointed brain, and announced to Dass that my name was "Zung". And Zung I am till this day. We got used to our farcical alter-egos after a while, and it's still a great laugh whenever someone new joins us for supper and looks quizzically at me after Dass calls my name.

"Hah? What he call you ah? Zu....... what?!?" BotakKeanu and I inevitably crack up in manic laughter.

That was a few months ago. Recently the supper club swelled to include Johel, Bryan and Shaun. Johel is slightly rotund, and so he became "Gimu", short for "Gemuk". Shaun, who is short and stout, was christened "Hobbit". It's funny enough when you recognise the obvious reason we gave him the name, but it's hilarious whenever you hear an Indian national - who has probably never watched Lord of the Rings - call Shaun.

Botak will go,"Das! Apa nama dia? Apa nama dia?" while pointing at Shaun and grinning like an idiot.

"Uh....ah...... *thinks hard*........ Ah! Wuobbit!"


But the best name was reserved for my good friend Bryan, a huge guy who weighs 120 kilos and hates it when ppl call him fat. So of course I have to insult him about his weight all the time, even though I usually never pick on fat ppl. Just because it's so funny getting a rise out of him. But anyway, in the grand tradition of Zung and Keanu, which were plucked out of thin air, we gave Bryan a name that would be immortalised in etymological folklore.

I told Dass,"nama dia Veji-lah."
Das said,"hah? veji-ah?"
I said,"Ya ya. Veji. Veji Nah."
"Wuoh! Veji nah! *gives thumbs up sign* wuokay wuokay!"

And that, my friends, is how Bryan came to be known as "Vagina".