......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/
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
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.
Friday, June 29, 2007
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.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
"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!
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!
Saturday, May 26, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
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.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
The Idiots Guide to Choosing a Girlfriend
*Note, this is not an article on how to FIND a girlfriend, merely how to CHOOSE one.
**Also, this article assumes that you are interested in a serious girlfriend, with all its attendant pros and cons. In light of these, the choosing process outlined is intended to deliver you minimum headache and maximum fun in the long run.
To all the long-suffering men of this world, I share this with you in the spirit of brotherhood, in the hopes that we may all have full and loving relationships instead of angst and heartbreak, that we can be proud of our women, and that our women will be proud of us. Here then, is how you choose a proper girlfriend:
So follow the steps before you follow your heart, and you might save a helluva lot of heart- and headache down the road. Have fun!
**Also, this article assumes that you are interested in a serious girlfriend, with all its attendant pros and cons. In light of these, the choosing process outlined is intended to deliver you minimum headache and maximum fun in the long run.
To all the long-suffering men of this world, I share this with you in the spirit of brotherhood, in the hopes that we may all have full and loving relationships instead of angst and heartbreak, that we can be proud of our women, and that our women will be proud of us. Here then, is how you choose a proper girlfriend:
- Step 1. Make sure she's not crazy.
- I'm not fucking joking dude. This is the be-all and end-all of relationship tips. Your girlfriend can have a lame personality, bad breath etc etc...... but she MUST NOT be crazy. I'm not talking about Oprah-liking-crazy........ but CRAZY-crazy like having violent tendencies, or paranoia so acute she calls you 10 times a day to ask "where are you?" or threatening to kill herself....that kind of crazy. It doesn't matter how sizzling-hot she is(and trust me, there ARE crazy hot girls), if you value your balls, your sanity, and don't like being stalked or having someone put Siamese love-spells on you, KEEP AWAY.
- Step 2. Don't choose a gold-digger.......
- I know it sounds like basic knowledge, but most guys(including me) usually don't think with the big head when they first meet a hot woman, especially if she gives them attention. The gold-digger will ask you what you do, how much you earn, how long until you make partner/general manager etc etc. and hints that she "loves receiving presents". Whore - definition: someone who provides sexual services for payment in cash or in kind(i.e. handbags, holidays to Bali etc).
- Step 3. ........or a jealous woman
- A jealous woman is an insecure woman, and she will cause you emotional trauma. It's also a side-effect that jealous women are usually not the prettiest ones. On the other hand, a good girlfriend is someone smart enough to choose a good man, and confident enough with her own attractiveness that she doesn't need to be jealous. And for you(or me at least), smart, confident, and attractive are verrrrrrrrry nice traits to have in a girlfriend. *note: this same woman, while not the jealous type, may illogically want you to demonstrate that you're a teeny-weeny bit possessive over her, in order to be reassured that you love her. So the next time she's talking with some good-looking guy, just ask her "Who's that guy?" She'll be secretly delighted.
- Also, be observant, you might realise that the Gold-digger and the Jealous Woman are very often the same person. The selfish "me-first" urge in these women manifests itself in these two distinct but related personality traits: hunting for a "good catch", and then ferociously guarding their "prize" from the clutches of other women. And you don't want to feel like a wild boar or a salmon fish, do you?
- Step 4, Ask yourself,"if I'm in deep trouble, what would she do?"
- I'm talking deeEEEEEEEEEEEEEP trouble, like if you were kidnapped, or if you crashed your car and she's unhurt but you're unconscious and bleeding badly. WHAT WOULD SHE DO? Basically you want a girl who can take care of things, not someone who will sit there and cry while you bleed to death in the accident. I could list out the values needed in such a girl -streetwise, resourceful, calm-headed, brave, loyal etc etc - but these values won't affect you much until you really really need them. And understand this: The one time you will really NEED your girlfriend is when you're in deep shit, even if just for emotional support. If she's the sort that ups and runs the moment she learns you're bankrupt, then you might wanna look elsewhere. However, if you smile after answering yourself this question, congratulations.
- I know that it's hard to resist the sweet-looking damsels in distress and the urge to protect and "cherish"(*vomit*) them - especially for all you macho lunkheads and you, Manager Chow- but if you have to, why not choose someone who defers to you mostly, but whom you know has your back when the going gets tough? Think Anwar Ibrahim's wife and you've got the idea.
- Step 5, choose someone who will make a good mother for your children.
- Assuming it goes that far(which is possible in a serious relationship), don't fuck it up! Hehe. Seriously though, the traits that would make a good mother are the traits you want in a girlfriend too. You want beautiful children? Then she can't be the bad-looking parent can she? Especially since you've dominated that position, you ugly fucker(yes, Erlend, I'm talking to you LOL); A good mother can cook (yes girls, the old adage about going through a man's stomach are largely true); A good mother is educated so that she can educate her children, and so on and so forth. Ah think about it yourselves. I'm lazy to elaborate. If you're so stupid you can't imagine, then I hope you don't breed.
- Step 6, choose a happy girl
- Simply because a happy girl probably doesn't have issues that need fixing(jealousy, abandonment, insecurity, physical abuse, the list goes on.......). Either that, or she just escaped from the nuthouse(please see step 1 in this case)
- For some reason, most people can't stand a happy person. Have you noticed how people go,"What the hell are you smiling about?" when you're having a good day? Well, I don't know about you, but I like being happy. Basically, a happy girl makes you happy, and who doesn't want to be happy?
- Step 7, can she be your friend?
- Every serious relationship should begin on a steaming-hot, sizzling, passionate, amazing-sex, knee-weakening-kisses note. Why? Cause it's fun lah! Abuthen? Of course, you can run your relationship in this mode forever.....if you can sustain it forever. I'm of the opinion that it's impossible because humans naturally take things for granted. Other than being your lover, your girlfriend has to be one of your best friends, because after the initial passion has worn off, you should be left with friendship and a very comfortable intimacy. If you can't be friends, then she can't be your girlfriend.
- Lastly, separate your "deal-breakers" from your "fixables"
- There are some things that are absolutely unacceptable in a woman("deal-breaker"), while others, though undesirable, can be tolerated provided that there's an overriding positive trait to balance it("fixable"). For instance, a woman who's kind enough to volunteer at the local SPCA would push the fact that she idolizes Oprah into insignificance; Contrarily, a woman who smokes crack cocaine is a definite no-no, even if she looks like a supermodel.
- This is largely up to the preference of the individual. Some people might be utterly revulsed by a simple thing such as a woman having untrimmed armpit hair, while others might be able to tolerate a potential deal-breaker such as a woman who drinks heavily or digs her nose in public. So separate your "fixables" from your "hell-no!-No-fucking-way!!!" so that the next time there's a dilemma(supermodel genius who snores like fucking thunder), you'll know what to do.
So follow the steps before you follow your heart, and you might save a helluva lot of heart- and headache down the road. Have fun!
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
6 weird things about me
Good friend Ah Lau has tagged me. So I (apparently) have to tell you embarrassing things about me...... (or else what? The Meme Police are going to arrest me? Ah well it's all in good fun), so here goes:
1. My nose is bent prominently to the left. The official excuse is that I ate ball biscuit(吃波饼)while playing basketball.
2. Hair on my body grows in weird places, like only the top of my thighs and the outside of my calves.
3. I can't breathe if someone has a strong air freshener in the car. My respiratory system simply refuses to work at the first whiff of ambi-pur and I'm left gasping like a fish until I wind down the window for outside air.
4. I have no phobia of snakes(so long as they're not poisonous) or rats or even large insects like beetles or monster butterflies, but I harbour an inordinate amount of loathing for cockroaches(kachatophobia). Filthy filthy bastards.
5. My first memories start around the age of 1 and I can still remember details, verifiable by my mother.
6. I can swallow liquids with my mouth open. (TA-DAAAA!!! Finally something interesting huh!)
I tag Elaine and April Groupie.
1. My nose is bent prominently to the left. The official excuse is that I ate ball biscuit(吃波饼)while playing basketball.
2. Hair on my body grows in weird places, like only the top of my thighs and the outside of my calves.
3. I can't breathe if someone has a strong air freshener in the car. My respiratory system simply refuses to work at the first whiff of ambi-pur and I'm left gasping like a fish until I wind down the window for outside air.
4. I have no phobia of snakes(so long as they're not poisonous) or rats or even large insects like beetles or monster butterflies, but I harbour an inordinate amount of loathing for cockroaches(kachatophobia). Filthy filthy bastards.
5. My first memories start around the age of 1 and I can still remember details, verifiable by my mother.
6. I can swallow liquids with my mouth open. (TA-DAAAA!!! Finally something interesting huh!)
I tag Elaine and April Groupie.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
*updated* "and I'm like...... and she's like......."
......and you're like a fool, that's what you're like.
Whatever happened to English? How did a pronoun followed by "like" replace "he/she said"?
It's annoying at best; And for people who are sticklers for speaking proper English, it's as soothing to the ears as grating your nails on a chalkboard. It's even worse for multi-lingual Malaysians, who pick up new languages and nuances in dialect easily. The assimilation into the Borg happens, and before you know it, you're talking like Jessica and Paris.
How in the world did American teenage bimbo talk become an accepted way of communication? I know great writers and great articulators of words who spout "i'm like she's like........" the moment they're with their friends! Somehow it became cool to talk that way, even when you know many words with more than 5 syllables. It's usually an indicator of youth(and teenage sluttiness), but my good friend and neighbour from the show(who's admittedly young at heart) talks like that, and he just turned 30.... so there goes my theory.
God bless America. Without you, how would we find the inspiration to talk stupid?
Whatever happened to English? How did a pronoun followed by "like" replace "he/she said"?
It's annoying at best; And for people who are sticklers for speaking proper English, it's as soothing to the ears as grating your nails on a chalkboard. It's even worse for multi-lingual Malaysians, who pick up new languages and nuances in dialect easily. The assimilation into the Borg happens, and before you know it, you're talking like Jessica and Paris.
How in the world did American teenage bimbo talk become an accepted way of communication? I know great writers and great articulators of words who spout "i'm like she's like........" the moment they're with their friends! Somehow it became cool to talk that way, even when you know many words with more than 5 syllables. It's usually an indicator of youth(and teenage sluttiness), but my good friend and neighbour from the show(who's admittedly young at heart) talks like that, and he just turned 30.... so there goes my theory.
God bless America. Without you, how would we find the inspiration to talk stupid?
Friday, March 09, 2007
Goldilocks and the 3 bears, or "How to catch a movie for only RM3.33"
One fine day, there were 3 tall guys, all at least 6 ft. in height. They were like the 3 bears in the Goldilocks story - you know, Large, Medium, and Small- One weighed close to 100 kgs(The large one, we'll call him "Slim Baby"), one was 72 kgs (medium, let's call him "Medium"), and the last was a piffling 60 kgs despite being the tallest among the three (let's call him "skinny auditor boy").
So the three bears decided to catch a long anticipated movie that just opened that day, one inspired by a Frank Miller graphic novel about Spartans and some bullying Persians. As was with all plans that came to fruition with Slim Baby(the large one) and Medium around, it was a spur of the moment decision, made after basketball, like this:
"Eh wanna watch XXX movie ah?"
"Ok ok."
"Eh you leh? Wanna watch XXX movie ah?"
"Ok ok."
"Ok later I go buy ticket."
Turns out that the movie about some fucking Spartans was so bloody popular that we... I mean the 3 bears....... went to their regular empty cinema where it was practically assured that we could just waltz in and buy a movie ticket.... only to see the sign "sold out for *Spartan movie*"
Fuck.
So the 3 bears marched their ass down to another movie theatre, fairly confident that tickets were available since the next showtime was at midnight and it was a weeknight. To their disappointment and disbelief, the only seats available were on the second row.
So as bears do, they decided to forage for food before returning half an hour before midnight in the hope that they could buy the unclaimed reserved tickets. Slim Baby and Medium were constantly trying to make each other fat, with Medium being much more succesful than the 100kg Slim Baby. Conversation went like this:
SlimBaby: Wanna eat what? (Come let's go eat you bastard. I don't believe I won't make you fat)
Medium: Anything lah (Bastard. Trying to make me fat while you slim down? You don't know I'm on a secret diet)
SlimBaby: (in a sly I-dare-you-to tone) KFC lah!
Medium: Come lah! You think I scared ah? I'll match however many pieces you eat? So we order bucket lah ok? You eat 5 I eat 4.
SlimBaby: Tiiuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu..... now what time already? KFC!?!??!?!
Medium: Scared ah? You are the one that say one!!!
Slim Baby: Come lah!
Medium: Come lah!
All the while Skinny Auditor Bear was just shaking his head and laughing in amusement at the psychological games the other two were playing just to get each other fat.
(Oh, and they really went to get KFC at 11pm at night. Burp. Medium actually tapau-ed KFC next door to the mamak and ordered a mi goreng and an oily omelette just to irritate the overweight Slim Baby)
After a BMI- and cholesterol-boosting supper at the mamak, they marched back to the cinema, where Slim Baby and Skinny Auditor Boy proceeded to harass the management of the theatre to release the unclaimed tickets early (it was more than half an hour before the movie started). After alternately charming, teasing, cajoling, and harassing the ticket seller, who was so flustered he called his manager, the 2 bears managed to get a WONDERFUL spot while the crowds that were waiting for the half-hour mark gave them all dirty looks.
And this is what happened next: Slim Baby went to the toilet inside the cinema. And in order to do that, the ushers would hold your ticket while you used the loo, to make sure you came back out. When he came out, however, the ushers gave him back another 2 extra tickets in addition to the 3 that he had bought, so he now had 5.
Not comprehending what was really happening, he just said "huh?" and walked back to the other 2 bears with an uncomprehending, confused look on his face.
"Ei see see. They give me another 2 tickets woh."
"What two tickets?"
"For the same movie lah!"
"hah? So we got 5 tickets? Same showtime ah?"
"yaya same cinema everything."
So what do you do if you got 2 extra tickets? Sell it right? So Medium took it back to the box office and told the ticket guy that Slim Baby had harassed earlier to sell the tickets for him.
When Medium walked back to Slim Baby and Skinny Auditor Boy, he saw the two of them leaning against the wall, staring intently at the ushers at the entrance to the theatres, who were deep in argument with a guy who was turning beet in the face, gesturing animatedly and by the looks of it, very angrily while the ushers avoided eye contact while giving nervous smiles and I-don't-know shrugs.
"Oh diu loh diu loh.... Got ppl asking back for the ticket already sure," Slim Baby muttered under his breath while sweating profusely. Skinny Auditor Boy was still laughing. Just then, the guy's lady friend joined him(probably from the loo too) and proceeded to harangue the ushers together. The couple had really really black faces and the guy looked like he was ready to slap someone.
"Oh diu loh diu loh diu loh diu loh......" Slim baby chanted repeatedly under his breath.
"Aiyah I go take back the ticket lah." Medium said.
So Medium went back to the box office to take back the tickets so he could return them to the couple, but before he could say anything, the ticket guy put 2 RM10 notes into his hand..... the tickets had been sold. Diu loh!
Medium walked back to the other two bears with a tragicomic expression on his face, and the worried Slim Baby asked,"So how?"
In reply, Medium opened Slim Baby's palm and slapped 2 red paper notes into his hand.
"HUH?!?!?!?!? Diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuuuuuuuuuuuu loh!!!!! Sell already ah?!?!" Slim Baby shouted as a panicked expression appeared and the veins on his head started to swell. Medium and Skinny Auditor Boy burst out into laughter. People around the 3 bears were starting to give them weird looks.
Meanwhile the couple were close to hysterics. The 2 tickets were excellent seats, in the last row of the cinema in a corner, where they could make out to their hearts' content without disturbance. The guy was baring his teeth at the usher, while the woman was close to tears. It wouldn't have been hard to guess that he bought the ticket days in advance to get such good seats, waiting patiently day by day until the movie opened. For all we know she was a new target that he was operating on.
Tough luck Johnny boy. Medium and Skinny were in stitches, alternately laughing at poor Slim Baby( and his prickly conscience and watching him think aloud how to avoid the usher later since the 3 bears were all tall, and he was also "not slim", making him doubly recognisable when we went in), and then at the tragic couple who were almost jumping up and down now in abject frustration. We could only imagine the threats of lawsuits that were being hurled at the ushers.
Slim Baby was sweating bullets now. Literally. Skinny helped him sweat more.
Skinny: Eh you want my cap ah? In case they stop you and ask for their tickets back."
SlimBaby: Noneed noneed. Aiyoh........ sien ah!! Why like that wan!!!!"
Skinny + Medium: *burst out into uncontrolled laughter*
In the end, the 3 bears managed to avoid the usher by squeezing past with the crowd, but as they walked through to the cinema, a bitter aftertaste prompted Medium to say,"Damn that was fucked up. He probably bought those tickets a long time ago man. Fuck. Destroy his evening wei. Dirty money man. I don't wanna have anything to do with it."
The evil slim baby replied laconically, since he had already avoided the feared confrontation with the usher,"Haiya go back home pok yeh(fuck) lah. Early evening loh...."
Damn..... Slim Baby, you better give that 20 bucks to some orphanage. I'm just waiting for karma to strike.
So the three bears decided to catch a long anticipated movie that just opened that day, one inspired by a Frank Miller graphic novel about Spartans and some bullying Persians. As was with all plans that came to fruition with Slim Baby(the large one) and Medium around, it was a spur of the moment decision, made after basketball, like this:
"Eh wanna watch XXX movie ah?"
"Ok ok."
"Eh you leh? Wanna watch XXX movie ah?"
"Ok ok."
"Ok later I go buy ticket."
Turns out that the movie about some fucking Spartans was so bloody popular that we... I mean the 3 bears....... went to their regular empty cinema where it was practically assured that we could just waltz in and buy a movie ticket.... only to see the sign "sold out for *Spartan movie*"
Fuck.
So the 3 bears marched their ass down to another movie theatre, fairly confident that tickets were available since the next showtime was at midnight and it was a weeknight. To their disappointment and disbelief, the only seats available were on the second row.
So as bears do, they decided to forage for food before returning half an hour before midnight in the hope that they could buy the unclaimed reserved tickets. Slim Baby and Medium were constantly trying to make each other fat, with Medium being much more succesful than the 100kg Slim Baby. Conversation went like this:
SlimBaby: Wanna eat what? (Come let's go eat you bastard. I don't believe I won't make you fat)
Medium: Anything lah (Bastard. Trying to make me fat while you slim down? You don't know I'm on a secret diet)
SlimBaby: (in a sly I-dare-you-to tone) KFC lah!
Medium: Come lah! You think I scared ah? I'll match however many pieces you eat? So we order bucket lah ok? You eat 5 I eat 4.
SlimBaby: Tiiuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu..... now what time already? KFC!?!??!?!
Medium: Scared ah? You are the one that say one!!!
Slim Baby: Come lah!
Medium: Come lah!
All the while Skinny Auditor Bear was just shaking his head and laughing in amusement at the psychological games the other two were playing just to get each other fat.
(Oh, and they really went to get KFC at 11pm at night. Burp. Medium actually tapau-ed KFC next door to the mamak and ordered a mi goreng and an oily omelette just to irritate the overweight Slim Baby)
After a BMI- and cholesterol-boosting supper at the mamak, they marched back to the cinema, where Slim Baby and Skinny Auditor Boy proceeded to harass the management of the theatre to release the unclaimed tickets early (it was more than half an hour before the movie started). After alternately charming, teasing, cajoling, and harassing the ticket seller, who was so flustered he called his manager, the 2 bears managed to get a WONDERFUL spot while the crowds that were waiting for the half-hour mark gave them all dirty looks.
And this is what happened next: Slim Baby went to the toilet inside the cinema. And in order to do that, the ushers would hold your ticket while you used the loo, to make sure you came back out. When he came out, however, the ushers gave him back another 2 extra tickets in addition to the 3 that he had bought, so he now had 5.
Not comprehending what was really happening, he just said "huh?" and walked back to the other 2 bears with an uncomprehending, confused look on his face.
"Ei see see. They give me another 2 tickets woh."
"What two tickets?"
"For the same movie lah!"
"hah? So we got 5 tickets? Same showtime ah?"
"yaya same cinema everything."
So what do you do if you got 2 extra tickets? Sell it right? So Medium took it back to the box office and told the ticket guy that Slim Baby had harassed earlier to sell the tickets for him.
When Medium walked back to Slim Baby and Skinny Auditor Boy, he saw the two of them leaning against the wall, staring intently at the ushers at the entrance to the theatres, who were deep in argument with a guy who was turning beet in the face, gesturing animatedly and by the looks of it, very angrily while the ushers avoided eye contact while giving nervous smiles and I-don't-know shrugs.
"Oh diu loh diu loh.... Got ppl asking back for the ticket already sure," Slim Baby muttered under his breath while sweating profusely. Skinny Auditor Boy was still laughing. Just then, the guy's lady friend joined him(probably from the loo too) and proceeded to harangue the ushers together. The couple had really really black faces and the guy looked like he was ready to slap someone.
"Oh diu loh diu loh diu loh diu loh......" Slim baby chanted repeatedly under his breath.
"Aiyah I go take back the ticket lah." Medium said.
So Medium went back to the box office to take back the tickets so he could return them to the couple, but before he could say anything, the ticket guy put 2 RM10 notes into his hand..... the tickets had been sold. Diu loh!
Medium walked back to the other two bears with a tragicomic expression on his face, and the worried Slim Baby asked,"So how?"
In reply, Medium opened Slim Baby's palm and slapped 2 red paper notes into his hand.
"HUH?!?!?!?!? Diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuuuuuuuuuuuu loh!!!!! Sell already ah?!?!" Slim Baby shouted as a panicked expression appeared and the veins on his head started to swell. Medium and Skinny Auditor Boy burst out into laughter. People around the 3 bears were starting to give them weird looks.
Meanwhile the couple were close to hysterics. The 2 tickets were excellent seats, in the last row of the cinema in a corner, where they could make out to their hearts' content without disturbance. The guy was baring his teeth at the usher, while the woman was close to tears. It wouldn't have been hard to guess that he bought the ticket days in advance to get such good seats, waiting patiently day by day until the movie opened. For all we know she was a new target that he was operating on.
Tough luck Johnny boy. Medium and Skinny were in stitches, alternately laughing at poor Slim Baby( and his prickly conscience and watching him think aloud how to avoid the usher later since the 3 bears were all tall, and he was also "not slim", making him doubly recognisable when we went in), and then at the tragic couple who were almost jumping up and down now in abject frustration. We could only imagine the threats of lawsuits that were being hurled at the ushers.
Slim Baby was sweating bullets now. Literally. Skinny helped him sweat more.
Skinny: Eh you want my cap ah? In case they stop you and ask for their tickets back."
SlimBaby: Noneed noneed. Aiyoh........ sien ah!! Why like that wan!!!!"
Skinny + Medium: *burst out into uncontrolled laughter*
In the end, the 3 bears managed to avoid the usher by squeezing past with the crowd, but as they walked through to the cinema, a bitter aftertaste prompted Medium to say,"Damn that was fucked up. He probably bought those tickets a long time ago man. Fuck. Destroy his evening wei. Dirty money man. I don't wanna have anything to do with it."
The evil slim baby replied laconically, since he had already avoided the feared confrontation with the usher,"Haiya go back home pok yeh(fuck) lah. Early evening loh...."
Damn..... Slim Baby, you better give that 20 bucks to some orphanage. I'm just waiting for karma to strike.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
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