Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The Alternative Oscars

Best Gratuitous Nudity: Marisa Tomei, Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead

Actresses tend to be more willing to get naked onscreen when they’re young, unknown, and hungry. Lately, though, there’s been an influx of long-established celebs who suddenly become allergic to clothes as they hit middle age and the ingenue roles start drying up: Meg Ryan (In the Cut), Jennifer Aniston (as close as she’s ever come in The Break-Up), and now Tomei, who spends much of Sidney Lumet’s heist-gone-wrong picture parading around topless for no particular reason. Not only does she look delectable at 43, but her casual exposure gives this contrived and glibly cynical film a disarming frankness that it desperately needs.

-Mike D' Angelo (Esquire, March 2008)-

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

An Unofficial Football Fan

I really need to call Mei.

There’s certainly some form of payment to be involved but it’s fair considering the service I’m asking her to do for me.

I am a Chelsea supporter. For the past decade or so. I remember every triumph, every memorable goal and also every heartache. I have the current team roster at the tip of my tongue. Including their jersey numbers, positions and nationalities. To a non-football person, I seem like an ardent fan. Which I am but I don’t like to be viewed as one (except in cyberspace). Which explains why I am not a registered member of the Chelsea Supporters Club Malaysia despite being aware of its existence for a few years now.

It all seems too die-hardy for me. Because, let’s be honest, I was born in KL and it’s thousands of miles away from West London. And to refer ‘Chelsea’ as ‘we’ (as some devilish supporters tend to do when referring to their football club of choice) just seems too pretentious. As well as going to Modesto’s every Saturday and having a binge around a football match. So the thought of not joining CFC Malaysia never actually bothered me. That is, until yesterday.

Chelsea are playing Malaysia tonight (Tuesday) and being one of the top four teams of the BPL, they just can’t have a match here and not having any sort of commercial stunt while they’re at it. And for Chelsea, that stunt was an autograph session at the Adidas store at Pavilion KL yesterday evening.

Of course, I was all giddy and excited to at least get up close with John Terry or Frank Lampard despite finding out that it was to be a closed event merely hours before the actual thing. Meaning, permitted inside, along with the footballers, were guests of Adidas and select members of CFC Malaysia. At that moment I was beginning to lament my decision not to join up the club. But, hey, if I could just catch a glimpse of them from outside the store, I’d be happy enough.

As it turned out, as I made my way off the escalator, the size of the crowd assembled in front of the store was quite overwhelming. The whole entrance of the store was totally blocked out of view by the crowd. As I try to find way through the whole mess, as if like clockwork, chants of ‘Chelsea! Chelsea!’ began to resonate out of nowhere A clear sign the stars had arrived. People with camera phones, digital cameras and SLRs were all vying for viewing positions. To avoid the risk of being labeled as an asshole, I jostled only a bit and for all that trouble, in the end I only managed to get a glimpse, through the armpit of a mannequin at the display window, of what I think is the back of Michael Ballack’s head. My lament of not signing up as a fan club suddenly turned to regret.
Suddenly a late comer to the event bossed through the crowd, while talking on his phone, showed the security people his CFC Malaysia membership card and duly gained entrance. By then, I was tormented with rage. My decision, or lack of it, of not taking the trouble of merely signing up has came back to haunt me and it bit me right in the ass.

Collecting any sense of determination I had left, I inched myself towards the front of the crowd thinking if I didn’t catch them on their way in, maybe a little hope pose on their way out. As I edged towards my objective the security personnel stationed at the entrance suddenly held up his arms and announced something inaudible. His voice drowned out in the agitated crowd as I couldn’t make out his words as rather surprisingly, the crowd began to slowly disperse. Before I could figure out what exactly had happened, someone broke the news - The Chelsea players had left the premises. They exited through the back door. My hope evaporated. I was left a broken and exasperated man.

Exhaling heavily, I flicked open my phone and scrolled down the phonebook to ‘Mei (Chel Msia)’. A directory I entered years ago but never actually dialed the number. She is the contact person should anyone want to register as a member of CFC Malaysia. She will ask for a registration fee, no doubt. But, hey, if by it I could meet with Chelsea football players in the future in an event such as this, I’m way for it. Even if it is three years away, probably the next time they decide come to town but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that dampen my spirit. Plus, I could use a Chelsea key chain right now.

I really do need to call Mei.

Friday, July 25, 2008

When Reading Is Bad

When Ed Burns finally admitted that he had cheated on her in The Holiday, Cameron Diaz, in all her melodramatic and emotional wreck fashion, threw out him out, hit him in the face and decided to take a break and go somewhere for peace and quiet or whatever it is people go away for. And, while at it, read a good book because it has been a long time since she had done so. And this is the part in which I do not understand.

While do people insist on reading a good book while on their breaks, holidays or vacations? To me people read books for the same reason they go to the movies. (And I mean fiction books and not something by Alan Greenspan or Warren Buffet. That would be just messed up.)

It is a form of escapism these fictions are. To take you on a ride along with the main characters as they live out their impossibly exciting life. Be it jetting around Europe with Sheldon, sidestepping KGB spies with Ludlum or just, I imagine, shopping relentlessly with Kinsella.

I mean, I understand the purpose of a good book while you are at home, lounging on a Sunday afternoon and the idea of a driving to a shopping mall for a two-hour flick just seems like a lot of trouble. I understand that. But on a holiday? What do you want to escape from? Why do you want to escape?

I have seen people on the beaches of Batu Feringgi hunkered down with sunglasses on, shutting the world out around them and divulging themselves in a novel. Why? You are on a beach on a beautiful day! And you’re reading? Get into the water, rent a jet ski, try parasailing, anything except reading a book! You could do that during lunch breaks in your office. Don’t tell me you have a banana boat laying around the office that you are not at least curious about the one with screaming people on it currently zipping around the water?

As in the scene in The Holiday, as Cameron Diaz tried to get some sleep on her first-class seat, a tall stack of books lay beside her and among them is Atonement. It’s one thing to try to read a book while on vacation, but another when the title of choice couldn’t be more depressing. It’s a fantastic story, the Ian McEwan novel, no doubt, but why read on the hardships surrounding World War II on a trip you’re supposed to be having fun? Doesn’t that somehow defeat the purpose?

However, one thing that scene did something right is this. While it’s morally criminal to read a book while you’re under the sun on a beach somewhere in Greece, it is not necessarily wrong to bring a book along or some enjoyable reading material during these trips. And the only time these items are viable to be used upon are during the journeys. Think about it. A dreary 9 hour flight is an ideal situation for any form of escapism. My sister in law, a flight attendant by profession, once went on a flight to Detroit as a passenger and admitted she almost lost her mind by boredom that she’d be more than happy to put on a uniform and work with the cabin crew then and there.

So, here’s another It’s A Guy Thing tip. If you’re planning of a trip somewhere, leave all those heavy New York Times Bestsellers at home because one, it’ll be less burdening to carry your luggage around especially at the destination and two, probably save you from the extra cost of excess baggage. Instead, pack something lighter in its place which will offer you twice as much fun. Try swimwear.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

The Appropriation: Anne Hathaway

Women, children, and fans of Anna Wintour, it's time to relinquish your hold. Ms. Hathaway is ours. Part of the world of men. Her responsibilities here are minimal. Singular, actually: to be appreciated. We've tried before, but Hathaway (or her agent -- we prefer to blame her) made it impossible. Or impossible to admit. The Princess Diaries? Ella Enchanted? The Devil Wears Prada? Which of those could we mention, much less extol her abilities in, over beers with our friends? She suggested she was crossing over with her nude scene in Havoc -- only our theater was closed that day. Brokeback Mountain had promise, too, if it weren't for those attention-hogging cowboys and their Oscar-winning love story. But this month, clearly there's a smile on God's face. Ours, too. She's in a spy movie, Get Smart. Her costar is not a Jane Austen character; it's Steve Carell. She even knows karate. She avoids laser beams with a grace and sexuality Catherine Zeta-Jones only hinted at in Entrapment. And she's finally given us the courage to admit what we've felt all along. To Ms. Hathaway: At long last, welcome. We know you'll be happy here. At least we know we're happy to have you.

-Peter Martin (Esquire, July 2008)-

Why So Serious?

All who are fortunate enough to have driven the Bugatti Veyron have the same thing to say. It doesn’t matter what they have driven before – Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Porsches – this is in a different league. This is an F-15 in a world of propellers.

Each of its part has to be light and yet strong enough to handle a 1000 hp. Not for an hour or two, but for 10 or 20 years. Its engine is a fuse of 2 Audi V8s fitted with 4 turbo chargers which means it produces a massive amount of heat. So while your car has one radiator, this has 10.

And while other supercars feel like it’s going to disintegrate when it approaches 200 mph, the Veyron just feels so planted, so safe, you’re completely unfazed by it. It would reach from 0 to 100 kmh in under 2.8 seconds and on its way to reaching its top speed of 407 kmh, it changes its shape.

Quite simply, this car is a masterpiece.

And so is The Dark Knight.

While Steven and his friend George try to figure out how to fit an alien into yet another adventure movie, Woody busy casting Scarlett Johansson and M. Night who just couldn’t get enough of himself, a British director by the name of Christopher decided to turn the latest Batman installment into something that goes beyond the comic book genre. So far beyond that it even surpasses some of the well known movies of other genres. Barely a week in into its release, the general consensus is that (as the US$155 million opening weekend grossing would suggest) not only it is the best Batman flick ever, it’s one of the best movies. Period.

With the Joker being the arch nemesis, one cannot look further beyond the 1989 Batman for a direct comparison. 19 years has past since but such is the iconic symbol of Jack Nicholson’s portrayal that the memory still lingers fresh in the mind. Who in their right mind would even attempt to take Jack Nicholson role head on? One that holds a personal satisfaction to the legendary actor himself? No one but Heath. And you could lavish him with praise as there is no way to come out of this successfully without redefining the character that will blow people’s mind away and he did just that.

What is so special about Heath’s performance is that he took the rule book on how to play the Joker and tore it apart. Ever since he made his comic book appearance, there’s this recurring theme about the Joker. He’s a crazy clown with the tendency to kill people. But in The Dark Knight, he’s a psychotic anarchist with a penchant for mind manipulation. A seed of chaos. There’s a difference between crazy and psychotic. Norman Bates is crazy. Psychotic is how you describe Hannibal Lecter. As a matter of fact, Hannibal has long been regarded as the best movie villain ever. I think he just discovered a serious challenger to his throne.

It’s probably nuts to expect a superhero movie such as The Dark Knight to receive an Oscar nomination, not the least being it’s only July. And it still is, even after seeing it. But, the thing is, we’ve been looking it the wrong way. It is not a superhero movie. Not a comic book adaptation. It’s a crime saga. Along the likes of The Untouchables, Goodfellas and maybe even The Godfather. Not a far stretch since what Heath Ledger did to the Joker is akin to what Marlon Brando did to Don Vito Corleone. Visually unrecognizable and yet brilliantly arresting.

However, one could go on and on about the technical aspects of the film. The explosions, the gadgetry, the cinematography and even the acting prowess at hand. But what will make this film go down in history as one of the finest in our modern times is what it represents.

The thing about Christopher Nolan is that he doesn’t clonk you over the head with his genius. While he’s become more visually sophisticated over the course of his short career, he still has no use for the look-at-me camera moves. Nor does he seem to care whether people notice that his clever, gimmicky narratives conceal deep and unsettling questions about human nature.

Look past the creepy poignance of Heath Ledger’s posthumous performance of carved grimace and prankster sadism to see the stealthy, oddly underappreciated virtuoso of the piece.

This is a masterpiece.

This is the perfect film.

Jeremy Clarkson Supercar Showdown
Greatest Director Alive by Mike D'Angelo, Esquire July 2008

Saturday, July 12, 2008

A New Bowling Queen

Zandra Aziela.
Remember that name, as she will be our next bowling queen. Plus, she's hot.

She's been in the news lately. And, quite frankly, I wouldn't even bother glancing at the bowling section if it weren't for her.

So, a little heads up. Don't be too surprised if one day she knocks out Nicol David as the most talked about female sports player in our country.

This is the only decent picture of her I can put without risking being sued by MTBC. But, just so you know, she does has a Facebook account.

She's Single Again!

I should not be saying this. Actually, it’s even morally wrong, but guys rejoice! Nora Danish is single again!

With this, it has been confirmed what every heterosexual male in Malaysia has been saying all this time. Girl, that man ain’t right for ya.

Seriously, what kind of man who decides to leave his wife when she’s two months pregnant? That man is a shame to danglers the world over. I’m sorry, ladies, it’s just that some guys are really worse pigs than others. I mean, just look at her. That’s her on one of the worst days in her life. Can you imagine what a bubbly Nora Danish look like? Sure, her work has been mostly rubbish but who cares?

A person like Nora Danish should never have gotten married in the first place. Someone like her should be single for as long as possible as she spreads joy and happiness to the male population the nation over. It gives the lesser man the faintest bit of hope, while she’s single, that he actually has a chance. And as everyone knows, hope is good.

Remember how much fun we had when Normala was once again single? Wasn’t it nice to indulge in such lucid fantasies? Or when Erra went down the same route a little while back? Truth is, we are devoid of decent looking female celebrities lately, ones that we can drool about. Not some AF graduates.

As for Nora Danish: Welcome back. We missed you. XOXO

A 'Rare' Price

You know the problem with rare items? First they are nearly impossible to find and second, when you do it’s overly priced. Which suddenly boils down to, no longer a question of money, but of morality.

Case in point:

Thanks to my recently acquired hobby of online sneaker hunting, I came across a newsflash on Sole What?’s webpage promoting it’s latest line of totally special, one-off t-shirts. It’s the Aki Hoshino Sneaker Lover Classics collection. Basically they are a bunch of white tees made by KIKS TYO, featuring popular Japanese bikini idol, model and actress Aki Hoshino and photographed by celebrated Tokyo-based photographer Yasumasa Yonehara. Or simply put,

And yes, they are rare. Miss this chance to buy them this time, and you’ll never get the chance again. Ever. That’s right, it’s a cruel world indeed.

Hyped up by the buzz, I went to Sole What? myself to check them out earlier today. Upon closer inspection, I’d say quality wise, I couldn’t say they are any better than what I can get at Jusco, but then again, none of them features a Japanese bikini idol, in full colour, half naked and licking her lips while laying on a sofa, surrounded by sneakers. Okay, that last part does sound kinda weird but dude, it’s still hot.

The irresponsible child inside me just want to grab a whole bunch of them and go straight to the counter while reaching for my wallet, but what dignity I have left inside me somehow managed to rationalize, even for a brief second, to at least, take the trouble of inspecting the price tag. And this was when my world fell apart.

Okay, rough estimate, a regular t-shirt, with a colourful print on it and, yeah, put a ‘special’ tag for entertainment purposes, what your guess on the price? Come on give me a rough figure. You know what? Make it a crazy figure, a ridiculous one, ‘cause, hey, we are talking about a rare item here. So, come one. Tell you what, to help you out, I’d give some pointers. You know the Nike t-shirts featuring the national teams during Euro 08? Portugal, Italy, Spain and Germany? Retailed at RM85 each when they first came out. Silly, for a t-shirt, right? My brother even calls it ‘stupid’. A regular Lacoste polo which featured nothing except for that little crocodile badge, has a RM129 as its price tag. Again, silly, right? So I put my silly estimate around that figure. RM100+ for a white tee. RM150 if they really go that crazy.

You want to know the actual price? Are you ready for this? I thought I was but I wasn’t. You ready? The retail price for a KIKS TYO X Aki Hoshino X Yone t-shirt is, hold your breath, RM259.

Fuck me! So help me god!

259 bucks! Two hundred and fifty nine fuckin’ ringgit! Are you shitting me!? Honestly, people, the moment I saw that price, the impact suddenly made me lost my drive to get a pair of Tigers that day. I was planning to celebrate a new pair of shoes today but that Aki Hoshino tee, my god, just blew out my candle. RM259 for a t-shirt is no longer question about money, but has turn into a question of morality. Just think what you can do with RM259. I can buy another pair of shoes. Well, maybe not Tigers but Nike futsal shoes, yeah. I’d even have some leftover. Or I could get a really nice leather wallet, you know. Something classy. Braun Buffel, maybe. Or a nice Raoul shirt, or even a designer tie. Even a full package during those weekend trips with Ridhu. Although, that’s probably not the best way to spend all that money (or some might argue).

Point is, the fluctuation as a direct consequence of the word ‘rare’ or ‘special’ whatever, really just pisses me off! I love rare items, I thrive on them, but then again, look at what I have to deal with!

You know what? Screwed up part is, chances are, my inner child will once again triumph in this argument and I probably can’t help myself succumb to temptation and purchase a Sneaker Lover t-shirt. The one which she sticks her tongue out.

So, if you ever see me walk around in that said garment, I give you complete license to smack me right in the face and tell me what an embarrassment I have been but dude, first CHECK OUT MY AKI HOSHINO T-SHIRT!!

Press play, you'll love this.

Monday, July 07, 2008

Action? Oh Yeah. -Ish

It’s been described as one of the best Wimbledon final ever, the Nadal – Federer last night, which ended at 4.30 am local time. It went through 62 games. Beating the previous record of 55 between Bjorn Borg and John McEnroe. And I missed it. Well, not on purpose. As a matter of fact, looking back at what took place, I kind of wished I hadn’t. Ever since Ivanovic bowed out of the competition, I just lost interest in the whole thing. On a side note, what’s with the theory that she couldn’t perform because the gap between Roland Garros and Wimbledon is barely non-existent and a player needs a long preparation period to do well at SW6? Well, then, how do you explain Nadal? I know he’s a freakish testosterone driven tennis machine and Ana is just basically a 20-year-old chick but, ah, forget about it.

Point is, I would have caught that final yesterday that is, if I hadn’t got any action! Oh yeah! That’s right, baby! I did. I rock!

Okay, that may sound a little bit exaggerated but yes, I did went out with a few people despite it was being a Sunday evening. We were planning to watch Hancock, but the soonest available show was 3 hours away so it turned into a bowling plan. When that too didn’t happen, it almost turned into a batting cage session when finally we ended up at an eatery called William somewhere in SS2, which is a wonderful place (figuratively) because it offers incredible food at half the price as compared to any other fancy restaurants in the region. Even Tony Roma’s. If I had to choose, it would be, well, depends on the occasion. If it’s a hot date, then it’ll be Tony’s. If it’s just a bunch of buddies who happen to be really, really hungry, it’s William hands down. Or Murni.

Here I am talking about food again. Let’s change the subject. How about shoes? Let’s talk about shoes. This is becoming a recurring thing, doesn’t it?

It’s about Macbeth. For those of you who think I’m referring to anything Shakespearean, obviously you don’t know me. Or googled the wrong blog. Though it does remind me of a funny Blackadder episode. Anyway, it’s a shoe brand, very rock-ish. Made popular by Blink-182 and up until last Thursday, unavailable anywhere in Malaysia. Closest you can get a pair was by crossing the causeway to Singapore. But fret no more, 27 Heaven at Cineleisure is finally bringing them to our shores. Safe to say, I’m eyeing a pair for myself but I’ll hang on for the time being, waiting for them to stock up properly first. Unlike most people, I try my best not to buy on impulse. Except for those ‘health’ trips I take with Ridhu. On second thought, they were more towards services rendered. Once, I came home with the smell of women’s perfume all over me. That was an awkward moment. Speaking of women, Tita was present as well during yesterday’s attempt of having a good time albeit briefly. Hey, as long as there a chick as hot as her lingering with us losers, it’s always considered a good outing.

Hey, it is a recurring theme. Food, shoes then women. Geez, I hope you don’t find this boring.

Sunday, July 06, 2008

Back To Basics

Wow, it has been awhile, hasn’t it? That Italy elimination really left me in tatters, so to speak. That or maybe I was just too damn lazy to write anything lately. Most probably the lazy thing. But, since here I am, let’s go!

First of all, we are not going to talk about football today. Well, okay, maybe not that much because, hey, I have to mention Spain’s victory and congratulate them. You know, they worked hard for it (those pricks!). So, post-Euro 08, things are getting back to somewhat normal again. Most importantly, I no longer have to divide my sleeping hours into two phases, so I could last the 3-5am matches. You know, that sleeping habit was really taxing. And half the time it doesn’t work. Like the Germany Croatia semis. I was left to bear out Shebby’s comments during the highlights segment to know what happened in that game. Believe me, I wished there had been other ways.

But, enough about football.

Geez, come to think of it, now I don’t know where to start. We could talk about food, which would mean that I’d be talking about Tony Roma’s which I finally had the chance to dine at for the first time after all this while. And the verdict? Man, I could not wait for my next visit. Yes, it’s pricey but the portions, oh, they’re so generous. And what I liked most about was the option of four tantalizing sauces at your disposal, just sitting there on your table. And I only ordered chicken. God knows what they’ll give me should I ordered ribs, which were their specialty. Ribs, man, ribs. Grilled to perfection. Cholesterol never tasted so good.

Or, I could talk about movies. The latest being The Happening. But I usually reserve movie reviews on Flixster. They got stars and pictures I can dabble with. It adds a nice touch. And yes, I, too, was disappointed with Happening. Especially the absence of the normal twist at the end which I was really looking forward to in every M Night movies.

Or shoes, I can talk about shoes. I can’t believe this but I actually want to talk about shoes. Particularly Onitsuka Tigers.

I asked someone, if I was in the market for some cool shoes for, y’know, leisurely purposes, what kind of shoes I should be getting. Because, I’d be honest, I haven’t bought shoes for myself for a very long time and I realized that fact when someone asked what my shoe size were and I couldn’t remember that I had to guess. It was a clear indication I need some new kicks.

So, this friend recommended a pair of Converse or better, Onitsuka Tigers. At first I couldn’t even spell the damn brand until by accident I stumbled across Sole What? at The Gardens. It is one of the few shoe stores in the whole of Klang Valley to be selling these shoes. And hence, the birth of my somewhat obsession with the brand. I googled it, wiki-ed it, went to sneaker forums, you name it. Until I came up with a list of the stores that were selling this brand and it’s not a long list. Which in a way suggests the rarity of these shoes in the Malaysian market. And I’m such a sucker for rare items. So, for the past few days, I have been scouting the shopping malls of Klang Valley for the stores which offer the most options of Tigers. And so far, it’s Ecko Unltd at OU. They have a whole wall of Tigers, unlike other stores at which one only had six pairs on display. Like, come on! And while snooping around, I came across another brand called K-Swiss which looks kinda cool too. In a very hip-hop artists kind of way. Then, I started to worry because I beginning to sound so much like Turtle. Next thing I know, I’ll be wearing a cap in reverse. Oh wait, I already did that at Sunburst. Damn it! And why did I refer shoes as kicks!?

Okay, okay, okay. You know what we need to be talking about here? Women. Boo-yah! That’s right. Sometimes, I just forget the purpose of this blog. Talking about women can be so much fun. Except maybe for the fact that there’s nothing much to go on about currently. I mean, I do have something but, you know, the same ol’ usual suspects. Mostly Eiwa, which I find rather peculiar if she hasn’t found out about this blog already. I mean, lesser people have stumbled across this page one way or another and yet, well, to be fair I only meet her on very rare occasions and the subject of ‘hey, I read your blog the other day talking about me in a very sexual manner and it kinds of turn me on’ is unlikely to come up during those brief moments. Especially the ‘turn me on’ part. Which is what I’m totally going to do today. That is talking about her in a very sexual manner.

I saw her the other day. Which is about two weeks ago. Depends on when did Petronas held its Open Day at Permata. My brother was overlooking the go-kart joint so the whole family stopped by to check it out, so to speak. But we were there only briefly because we arrived late and it was nearly noon so you can only imagine how hot it was getting over there. I am so prone to heat strokes. Anyway, a funny thing happened when I was visiting one of the booths. It was a foot massaging booth, and sitting on a stool next to me while I was looking around was an old man, nonchalantly puffing cigarette smoke which happens to be in a confined space filled with people. Annoyed, I intend to give him the stink-eye. However, upon closer inspection I realized I recognized that white hair and moustache despite the face turned away and under a blue cap. And I was right, it was Tan Sri Hassan himself. First thought though, well, he’s still wrong and being unreasonable at that to be smoking in a crowd of people but then again, recalling the stick he’s been getting from some sections of the public around that time, I decided to give him a break. Me, a schmuck giving the President and CEO of the largest corporation of Malaysia a break. But I did. He may not realize it but I did.

It was around the time I left the foot massage tent that I caught the sight of Eiwa. At first I wasn’t sure if it was her but it was very likely to she would be present. She stood far away and it was only a glancing view but after those years of obsessing about her, I could recognize that body from a mile away. If I wasn’t mistaken, she seem to have put on a little weight, which is good because I always though she was too skinny for her own good at times. When will women understand we men hardly go for a Kate Moss, or the current version of Keira Knightley as of late. A little JLo wouldn’t hurt anyone. And we can never get enough of Beyonce. All for more loving. Which was why I was so pleased to see Eiwa that way. Of course, I couldn’t yell out to her to come over for one I didn’t want to draw any attention and two, my mother was right next to me. No, it would too weird and uncomfortable for both of us. Greg Fokker isn’t just my style. Again, as many times before, I just watched her from afar. Thinking how hot she would look dripping naked. How would I love to eat her up. And on cue, there’s Tan Sri Hassan walking out all by himself. Those official BMW Sauber F1 sneakers really do look snazzy. Very rare. Very nice. One of the perks, huh?

As for Bunga, well, quite some time since I talked about her too, huh? Sad thing is I wasn’t able to attend the last two futsal sessions. Bummer. ‘Cause I really missed her in those grey sweat pants. Those things really catch the contours of her ass and thighs nicely. Very sexy. Sometimes she would stand, hands on hips, putting her weight on one foot while waiting for the ball to come to her and that is a Kodak moment for me, every time. I could snap her picture, put it as my wallpaper and be very happy for a long time. And be called a stalker and never get invited to play ever again.

Last time I came to play, she said hi to me and it was my highlight of the day. Probably the week. She is just that hot to me. And, to…that…boyfriend of hers. You know, in her Facebook status she lists herself as single but in the photo gallery, numerous pictures of them cuddling with each other. It really sorts of messes up my mind. Do we mortals still have a chance, or anything? Maybe it’s one of those Andi-Greg things going on. ‘We’re seeing each other but it’s too early to call us a couple’ thing. And it’s us who got commitment issues. BS. Oh yeah, I’m into Reaper right now. I just downloaded and watched the whole 18 episodes of the first season in under 5 days. It’s sick, I know, but the show’s pretty funny and 8TV only air it on Friday nights, with no repeats. Who on earth purposely stay at home at 10 pm on a Friday night just to catch a one hour show? I just had to get it out of my conscience, quickly. That’s another reason why I haven’t been writing lately.

You know what? One thing I really need right now? A fucking date. In every sense of the word.

Ah shit, I got a feeling it’s going to be one of those cycles again. I wouldn’t be surprised if one these days I’d be writing one of those ‘I need a girlfriend’ post. Fuck! I hate it when it turn so vulnerable.

Dude, I need to get some action. It Sunday afternoon, I know, hardly a chance, but what the hell.

Hang loose, bee-yatch!