60 Things I did in December.

The past month, I.........


....... have gone jogging in-2C weather.

2....... baked an ENTIRE trout.............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.

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.

5....... tried Karsk - coffee and home-made moonshine (90% alcohol!!!)

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.

37...... ate fresh giant scallops............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!

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!

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/

Come Boy! Come take pitcher!

I finally got around to uploading my photos to flickr. Click here or on the picture to enjoy and please criticise the hell out of the pics. You'll help me take better pictures. Cheers, and here's one to whet your appetite:

The blurred line between "want" and "need"

1. A pro flickr account. US$24.95.
2. A Shun 8" chef knife. About RM500. Drool.
3. 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.
4. A pair of white and gold Adidas sneakers
5. A few big huge 24" LCD screens. They're already less than 1k each nowadays so it's really tempting.
6. A nice pair of loafers. When's the next Hush Puppies warehouse sale?
7. iPhone.

"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.

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.

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...

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 :)

Life. In 8 simple steps

from here

So sad, yet so true for so many of us.

"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........

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.

Movie Review: Transformers

Ooooooooops...... Wrong transformer. "MY BAD... (said in digitized robot voice)....." What I meant was this:



................... I'm sorry :) I mean I'm sorry for all you poor, slavering American fan-boys, because I've just watched the Transformers movie(on IMAX, no less), and you still have to wait at least 4 days, and that means we poor 3rd world citizens understand the "my bad" insider joke I made above, while you burger-scarfing wire-tapping fuckers can just kiss Optimus Prime's shiny metal ass.

Pardon my enthusiasm, but I've just watched what I'd consider a really awesome movie. Please note that I'm part of the Transformers generation, and consider my expectations and biases as a fanboy when taking this review into consideration.

I'd go so far as to say that it's the best movie I've watched in 2007. 2 1/2 hours of amazingly authentic visual and sound effects collaborating to recreate every inner child's deepest robot dream on the silver screen. The physics are so believable you'll drop into a trance from the first "transform" scene in the beginning of the movie, and never emerge until the grand finale, still entranced by the clanking, mechanical REALNESS of the Transformers. The last time I was so in awe at the movie theatre was when I watched "Independence Day".

The story is faithful to the original, the humour is funny, and the battle scenes will shock you and take your breath away. And for those who criticised the complex new "Transforms", let's just say that you'll never get tired of watching them transform in the movie, into beautiful-detailed sculptures of functional metal. It's a sight that will make every little boy (and 20- to 30-year old male) spasm with ecstatic rapture everytime it happens. It's almost better..... no, it IS better than sex, especially when they do it in transition, jumping up and magically(with great clanking noises and metal stress sounds) sprouting metal limbs and appendages while in vehicle mode, or when they jump into the air and fly off in the blink of an eye, already a fighter jet with afterburners glowing and making the air shimmer with heat.

*collapses in paroxysms of pure bliss*

Watching the movie, you see the characters of the individual Transformers shine through. They're generally faithful with the personalities, and have even improved the more boring ones. For those of us who followed the original series, you'll love instead of hate the new Bumblebee. The writers cleverly prevented him from talking, and consequently, from irritating us with that eager-beaver psyche. Instead, they've imbued him with humour, courage and a warrior ethic, easily making him the most lovable robot in the film.

But I talk too much. I'm going to watch the film again soon, if for nothing else than to hear the groaning, straining, creaking, whirring, sliding, clanking metal when even the puniest of them transform. They even have a good enough sense of humour to insert half of the original "chu chu chi chi CHIT" transforming sound into one of the scenes with Bumblebee. It just warms the heart, I tell you.

And when one of the autobots came riding in to save the day...... it almost brought a tear to my eye. Serious.

So, 9 out of 10.

9? Only 9, you ask? When I've been waxing so lyrical that both Shakespeare and Tupac are turning in their graves, worried about their linguistic immortality?

Yes. Only 9, because Optimus Prime has fucking LIPS. That's just wrong man. That's so fucking wrong. He looks emasculated - like some Sensitive New Age Gaybot - to Megatron's Evil Tyrant, complete with the thorny, take-no-prisoners, snarling visage.

Secondly, no Dinobots and Constructicons. So only 9.

If you're not a fanboy, go watch it, you'll have real fun. If you ARE a fanboy, you'll love it anyway, but don't puke in nausea when you see the lips.

"Malaysia Boleh!" or how to check if you're a jaded, cynical Malaysian!

Kenapa Malaysia Boleh?

Sometimes you're driving, and then suddenly you find yourself parked by the side of the road, sighing and pulling out your wallet.....

"Encik, boleh settle ka?"

"BOLEHHH!!!! Mau macamana settle?"

Stop giggling, you fuckers. You know exactly what I'm talking about hehe :)) And for all of you that don't, study hard and stop visiting bad websites like this! You're not old enough to be a cynical Malaysian!

Cheers!

Drunk and Co-ordinated

Who the hell plays basketball at midnight until 2AM in the morning everyday? The mad fuckers at Puchong, that's who.

Who gets fed-up of the waning challenge at USJ20 and decides to join the Midnight Basketball Borg? Slim Baby, that's who.

Who resisted the Basketball Borg the best he could but gave up in the end and got addicted as well? Me.

Who got totally smashed at a friend's birthday party on a Friday night......... but still rushed off to Puchong at 12.30 to catch the last few pickup games until 2 in the morning?

...............................*paiseh*..............................

It was surreal, playing basketball while drunk... Kinda like watching a first-person video of someone running and jumping. My feet were moving but I couldn't get any feedback at all.

Just do it, indeed. If it doesn't work, you get swatted to the floor by the giant center. Doesn't hurt a whit since you're already drunk as nails. You get up smiling and continue to play. Reverse layups even work, because they're already tired and your muscle memory tells your legs how to move. All instinct, no analysis. I can't keep count of the number of non-standard crap passes I made.

And now, at 3 in the morning...... let's go yumcha.

Crazy.

Malaytalian Morons

Please forgive me if you notice that I frequently harbour malicious derision, frustration and abject pity for every dumb soul that owns a Mykad. As a Malaysian myself, that's what makes it all the more painful and irritating.

You're all morons - Indefatigable , stubbornly under-achieving, close-minded, sycophantic, foreign-worshipping Morons.

Take for example the huge number of morons who support Italy in the World Cup. "Oh Totti blahblahblah", "Azurri rule!""Viva La Italia!" It reminds me of the black woman who applied to join the Ku Klux Klan...FYI you fools, along with Spain, Italy is the most racist country in the world. You may think that everything Italian is exotic, but it's a country that's corrupt, economically weak, and racist beyond compare.

I'll forgive you for not making noise about the abject state of Malaysian football everytime there's a big international tournament, but the sheer fanaticism of Malay-talian football fans is beyond compare. You're not Italian, you idiots, you're Malaysian. You're brown-skinned(and slitty-eyed, for all you nitpickers who are going to shout "Corsica!" and "Sicily"). That means you'd be discriminated against if you go to Italy. Fascism is ingrained in their culture and their attitudes. Is there a black player in the squad? Has there ever been? I rest my case.

You're all apathetic, uninterested, self-serving bastards. How many among you don't litter out your car window? How many of you are considerate enough to use your turn signals on the road? All the small signs lead to a bigger malady, that of cultural starvation. I'm Malaysian, but what stands me in good stead when I'm overseas isn't the confidence that my country could kick your country's ass(like the Americans), or the fact that I'm born a patriot, serving my country as it has served me(Japan, Israel)......... it's my own personality and knowledge that does it, and it's not reflective of my nation at all.

In fact, if I were to represent my country's typical citizen, I would probably be an insecure, ignorant, uneducated(despite going to university) racist moron who speaks horrendous English and idolizes the White Man while selfishly blaming others for his lot in life. Oh oh, and I would also be proud that I'm "too busy to read", and I'll be the stingiest guy of the lot because my currency is so small and I use all my salary to pay off my car loan for a "national car" that is famous for malfunctioning electric windows.

FYI, you smug-looking Italy and England lovers, white isn't superior, and even if it was, loving the white man doesn't make you white. Sohai.