Reminder

Dear ingenious master,

I think the time has come for me to have complete make-over. I have been stuck with this look since 2004 and honestly, it's getting old. So if you would take some time off your lazy ass and find me a new skin, to say the least, it'd be most appreciated. thank you for your kind attention.

Sincerely,
Your Blog

Last Days of June

First I was happy. Then I was sad. Then angry. Now, I’m happy again. Although not as much as the first time. I need help, don’t I?

Now, how are we this evening? Oh sorry, it’s already night time here. Not that it’s important but anyway, I’m off to Penang this Sunday. Yeaay. That’s the reason I was happy. Then I almost couldn’t make it because of my MBA registration day and that made it me sad. And pissed off. It was supposed to be on Saturday then they told me to come Monday, like yeah, I’m supposed to be frolicking on Ferringhi beach from Sunday ‘til Tuesday, so, yes, that does pose a problem for me. Then my persuasive mother told me to give them a call and ask for an alternative date. Now why didn’t I think of that earlier? Seriously, somehow that gene didn’t get passed down to me. Anyway, a quick call and voila, back to Saturday again. Actually they do have registration day on Saturday. It’s just that it was meant for part-time students. Full-timers were allocated for Monday. Well, sorry for the trouble, mate. White sandy beaches don’t come along too often, y’know.

So, a little rendezvous at UIA on Saturday, then on Sunday, hello blondies on the beach! (sigh) Oh how I miss Langkawi. But I guess Penang will do. And after that, a few days catching my breath at home and ba da boom, off to Mentakab for the biggest wedding of the year. Well, the second biggest wedding of the year, after my brother that is. In my view, of course. Not literally. I mean, how can you top the PM? Well, even that wasn’t a big occasion. Just an akad nikah at the mosque and, well, you get the point.

Anyway, exciting times lies ahead. Tourists sunbathing on the beach, bridesmaids at Mentakab, I mean, it gives me the tingles just thinking about it. Legendary.

In other news, Baby Jane is at the bengkel, yet again. Can you believe the ECU got soaked? And you know how much an replacement E36 ECU cost? Second hand? About 9/10th of what I made monthly if I still worked at Deloitte. For a circuitry board no larger that my two palms put together, that’s really bonkers. And we haven’t begun to discuss the amount required to get my fuel gauge to work. It seems the floatation device in the fuel tank is screwed so to get not one, but two of those contraptions, because that’s how BMW fuel tanks are designed, replace will cost another RM900. Hello Darfur! I can’t believe how much these things cost. And this is a 1994 production car. I wouldn’t dare imagine the parts for an E90. Maybe RM300 for a single light bulb change.

Wait, this is too much negative energy going around. I need to change tones.

Well, the 7 Collar Sonique Cinematique went well. RM37 for a 3 hour show. I must say that’s money well spent. And I really like one of the opening acts – a group called Estrella. They have a really hot lead singer and she has a beautiful voice to boot as well. She reminds me of Norah Jones with lyrics like Corrine Bailey Rae. I was captivated, is all I can tell you. As for 7 Collar themselves, they were good as expected. But I do wish they’d do more songs with the violins and cellos. They were only up until the interval. After that, it was like a normal show. I’m sorry but after the break, there was no more sonique cinematique. And the co-ordination were below par. The show started an hour late. The mid-way interval took a half-hour from the promised 15 minutes. Even in between songs there were scenes of havoc to prepare for the next performance even though it was in the dark. But, hey, I’ll give them a chance. They are an independent band anyway. Not actually theater people. And when it comes to the actual performance, it was truly enjoyable. The packaging could’ve been better but the actual gift was top notch. Literally.

Now let’s talk about movies. I would’ve liked to write this on my Friendster account but they only permit 1000 characters per review. Characters! Those numbskulls. I had to cut my Spidey 3 review to half. And ditch all those Topher Grace jokes. Certainly not exactly a thought out idea. Anyway, the most interesting movie I saw recently, and it happened by accident, was on Star Movies and it’s called My Date With Drew. It’s about a regular real life guy who embarks on a project with the help of his mates, to get himself a date with Drew Barrymore in 30 days. Why 30 days? Because that’s when he had to return the video camera that he bought to be eligible for the 30 day return policy. Will he get a date with Drew in the end? Well, that’s the fun part isn’t it? It’s funny, light-hearted, documentary-style at its best. Unfortunately though, I browse through Astro just now and it was a one time screening. They day that I caught it. That’s a shame. It’s a unique movie and I really hoped to share with you guys. Probably next month then. Whenever it is, keep your eyes out for it. It’s worth it. It sure as hell made my day. It made me even thinking about starting my own little project. Something to look forward to on a day to day basis. Keeps life interesting. Maybe not as elaborate as to get a date with a movie star. I’m not as obsessive at the Drew guy. Maybe I’ll write that book I’ve been so longing about. Yeah, I know, snore. But you just wait. One day I’m gonna make money by just sitting on my ass through royalty. The geek who wrote a classic. Watch out MPH! Here I come!

Another movie I’d like to mention here is MatchPoint. It’s a 2005 production but I just saw it a few weeks ago and by god it’s brilliant. I admit the only reason I wanted to see it at first is because Scarlett Johansson is on it. But as I was left catching my breath as the end credits roll, I thought to myself, that was the best Woody Allen movie I ever saw. It’s a masterpiece actually. It’s your classic love triangle story but goodness me, what a way to tell a story. And I thought Closer was good. This one just blew it away. Maybe one day it’ll come out on Astro, I don’t know, but the next time you’re out buying yourself some DVDs for the weekend, find this title, and you will not be sorry.

Wow, look as that, a clean version. Not bad, eh? I learnt it from Jennifer Morrison. What a vixen. You know, the kinds that pulls Santa’s sleigh. That one I got from Jason Lee. I got a fresh TV schedule nowadays since Heroes and Grey’s Anatomy are in between seasons. I watch Ellen now. And I’m not embarrassed to admit because she’s really funny. She’s one of those people who you just want to hear her talk because it makes you laugh. And most importantly, it’s not as sad as Oprah. But Oprah did have Terry Benedict. Well, at least Ellen conforms to the younger generation. Yep, nothing wrong with me. Just your normal testosterone driven male living in the 21st century who happens to watch daytime TV. Damn I’m gonna miss Ellen once I start work.

That’s it people, I’m signing off. Hopefully Baby Jane would be ready by tomorrow. How do you say goodbye in German?

Baby Jane

She’s gone. They finally took her away. She really needed some help. Baby Jane was not acting her usual self lately. She was fine during our day trip to Tronoh. Then suddenly the next day she refused to start. It had happened before but she somehow let up previously. Not this time though. This time it lasted for a week. And it’s really frustrating. What am I talking about? Well, it’s my Beemer, of course! It’s what I’ve decided to call her – Baby Jane. Instead of breastfeeding, she finds homage at petrol stations and while she goes about on all fours, she can do 100 km\h without a hitch. Until now that is. One morning she just refuses to start. It’s not like when the battery runs flat and there are no response from the car when you turn the ignition. In this case there is the effort of trying to ignite but the engine just wouldn’t engage. Thank goodness it happened while parked at home. Still, to get her fixed, a tow truck service is required. And after much delayed, they finally picked her up. If I am lucky she’d be okay by tomorrow. Worst case scenario would be next Monday. In the meantime, it’s going to be the Pajero for me. (sigh) Not that it’s bad or anything but the acceleration can be embarrassing sometimes. What’s more the stereo sucks. Haha y’see, now I can diss the stereo on the Pajero because now, Baby Jane has her own stereo. It’s Kenwood and it’s good. I can’t believe I just wrote that. Anyway, it comes with a remote and a USB port. Meaning I can take the thumbdrive that it came with, save a few hundred songs on it, plug it into the stereo and voila, goodbye homemade CDs. I owe Cipoi for helping me picking it out. As a matter of fact I owe him RM70 for it ‘cause I hadn’t enough cash on me that day. And considering that I picked the most decent choice. And I tell you, the slightly higher end stuff really looked tempting. But I wasn’t gonna burn a bigger hole in my pocket. It’s bad as it is. One more thing about the USB port on the Kenwood is that, well, I gotta a little story here. One time I was heading off to the studio and, oh, more about the studio later on, and I was in a hurry. So, there I was about to leave and I realized the battery of my handphone was dying. No time to charge it and I have yet to get that damn car charger kit. So I took along this cable that I use to connect my phone to my computer, to download pictures, videos and music to my K1 phone. Since the cable connects through the USB port, I thought, it should work as a makeshift car charger. And I was right. But more so, the moment I connected it both, the display on the stereo read ‘Reading’. And I couldn’t believe it because that what happens every time I insert my thumbdrive. Before I knew it, the stereo began playing the songs on my phone. I just sat there bewildered and excited. My phone and car stereo were talking to each other. God bless technology! Guess I wouldn’t need that car charger kit after all.

Oh yes, the studio. Well, it looks much better now. It has air conditioning, lights and backdrops for photo-shoots. And a proper living room with an oversize sofa and a TV with Astro hooked-up. And I’m the accountant of the place. Not really a full-fledged one. There’s just a book which I wrote down the expenses incurred for the betterment of the studio. And it hasn’t been updated for more than a week haha! Well, as if I’m getting paid for it. Still, it’s something to do. And, unlike any other accountants, this one models as well. It’s free. One of the perks, they say. But beside the point, if you’re interested of offering yourself for a photo shoot, you can always drop by. Or give me a call and I’ll take you there. You can just fool around with the camera or get a fully laminated picture of yourself. Your choice. And these guys can do it. They’re pretty good. It’s at Taman Pinggiran Ukay, just to remind you.
Erm, what else? Oh yes, next month I’ll be starting my MBA programme at UIA. Who would’ve thought, eh? Looks like this student life of mine is far from over. And I’m still doing my ACCA. Geez, what a geek I’m turning out to be. Watai even called me ‘pencinta ilmu’. And, damn it, I couldn’t refute the point much. Well, at least I’m driving a BMW. On paper I look really good don’t I? Single man of 25, currently pursuing ACCA and MBA. Drives a BMW. And works as a part-time model. Surely, a candidate for one of the most eligible bachelors around.

Oh before I forget, 7 Collar T-shirt is doing a show at TAC Bangsar this June 13th, if I’m not mistaken. They’re a Malaysian band doing something like MTV Unplugged. They’re good so come along. Support our local music scene. Better this than your Samsons and Nidjis. I’m promoting this because guess who are the people handling the promotional photo shoot? That’s right.

So, without further adieu, Chelsea has won the FA Cup and with so much noise coming from their corner during the last few weeks of the season, the matter of the fact is, Liverpool finished the season trophy-less… again.

Regina and Kabi got married and although I would pretty much describe the weirdness of it all, I believe the institution of marriage should not be trifled with. Even though you know each of both’s bad habits. So, congratulations to them and I look forward to seeing to many little Kaginas.

Not forgetting to our first ever first lady with a French name. Congratulations too.

For all, adieu and bon soi.

Striptease

As a Chelsea fan, the last 7 days has been very shitty. Ousted from the Champions League and losing the Premiership title, both in acrimonious fashion, has been a very bitter pill to swallow. And it has not been helped by the extremely biased reports from the sports section of The Star and NST respectively, exceedingly glorifying Liverpool and Man Utd that they might as well print them on red paper. It makes me sick just thinking about it. It’s like high school all over again. Thankfully, over the years, I have managed to rid myself from some very distasteful so-called Man Utd fans who know twat about football and yet claim to be die-hard fans as if they were actually born in Manchester. Fuckin’ wankers.

Well, anyway, Spidey 3 sucked. I’ll post my review of it on Friendster. Nifty little thing that review section. I have probably written a dozen of ‘em already. It’s a nice little space where I can lambast all the movies which I deemed not have been worth my time or money. The most recent example being Ghost Rider. And I can’t believe Spidey 3 followed suit. But more of that on Friendster.

What was I going to talk about just now? Oh right, striptease. Striptease is such a beautiful concept, don’t you think? It’s the ultimate turn on. I don’t know a single guy who would turn down such a thing. Well, some prefer the art of role-playing, but hey, whatever works for you.

I’m bringing this topic up because I have been exposed to a few decent versions of it for the past week or so. For starters, remember that naughty website that I mentioned. Yeah, well, I’ve managed to persuade 2 of the girls, on separate occasions, to do a lap dance for me – for free! Haha it was so much fun. One of them actually did it topless. What a dupe. They were terrible dancers, of course, but I attribute that to the lack of proper background music to spur them on, but more on that later.

And then, I went to this night spot called Sugar last Saturday, located at Crowne Plaza, and there was this band that was making its debut on that very night and they were awful. They totally fouled up Starlight but it was understandable because copying Muse can be very tricky but still foolish of them to even try if they know they’re not up to it. However, when they managed to do even worse for Smack That, that was it. I mean, hard rock and electronica with classical and prog rock elements is one thing, but how the hell can you mess up hip-hop? Hip-hop is not even singing. It’s just talking in rhymes. How difficult is that? They made me wish I was listening back to Akon. And that is a terrible wish. But then, they threw a surprise at everyone when they unleashed their secret weapon.

The band consists of two lead female singers. One of them is hot while the other is not. Up until then, the less hot one was monopolizing the mike and leading the band (quite badly, if I might add) while the hot one was resigned to do back-up singing. Now, they’ve exchanged places and their next song of choice was Inul Daratista’s Kocok-Kocok. And my life after that, ladies and gentlemen, would never be the same again.

The song Kocok-Kocok itself is not alien to me. I first heard it when Kak Nieta performed it during one of our karaoke night-outs. Just like any dangdut songs (and Inul’s for that matter) the lyrics were provocative and lingers around the suggestion of sex. But of course, with Inul, it is meant for mass distribution, meaning there’s a limit on how dirty you want the song to sound like. But at a nightclub, well, you’re not bound to such a rule and this band, Take 5, was free to take it to the next level much to the delight of the male audience (including me who was jumping joyously barely 2 metres away from hot female lead).

For one thing, she has a much more refined ass than Inul so when she does the famed gelek, it resembles more to Shakira’s rather than the Indonesian provocateur. And the sight of her skimpy skirt, flapping at her butt cheek every time she does it just adds to the gratification. But the real pleasure was every time she sang the words ‘kocok-kocok’. According to the lyrics, it was meant to refer to the emotions of love but this chick suggested a different meaning when she made a hand pumping gesture towards her hips as if to indicate she was thrusting a dildo into her crotch. With a pitched voice to match, it just blew the crowd’s mind away.

Then she reaches the line ‘baru keluar ah…’, and, my goodness, her expression of an orgasm even topped that of Meg Ryan’s version from When Harry Met Sally. If I remember correctly, I think, for a brief moment, I lost my mind a bit back then. And as the song came close to the end, she gave a final blow, very slow and very sexy ‘kocok-kocok’, to a resounding applause from the crowd. With that show, I could only imagine what a lap dance or a striptease would actually feel like. Man, I have to visit Amsterdam one day.

You know, it is such a pity there are no strip clubs here. They would be such a cool place to hang out. A couple of drinks, a few laughs, a naked woman dancing around a pole, it’d be perfect. But we don’t live in an ideal world so I don’t think strip clubs would be making its way here anytime soon. But all hope is not lost. If you’re lucky enough, and have the guts to ask for it, you can have your girlfriend to do it for you. It won’t be easy though. Few girlfriends would agree to such a thing and even fewer who would do a good job at it. Which is why, a good background music is key to a good striptease because it would help her settle into the mood. With a little help from AskMen.com, I have managed to compile a collection of 10 songs to do just that.

Some of the songs are already quite popular so you wouldn’t have much trouble finding them. For instance, Britney Spears’ I’m A Slave 4 U. Another one is Pussycat Dolls’ Buttons. Also in the mix is Nelly’s Hot In Here though I can’t put the picture of Jimmy Fallon out of my head so it might be a turn off for me. Some lesser known songs would include Madonna’s Justify My Love and my ultimate favorite, Lovage’s Sex (I’m a). That song is full of moans that you can’t help but wanting to be making some of your own with the missus at the end of it.

All of these songs just don’t have the beats but also the naughty lyrics to go with it. From Britney there’s ‘I cannot hold it, I cannot control it,’. From the Dolls, it’s, ‘And the heat comin’ from this beat, I’m about to blow’. While Lovage talks about virgins, one night stands and making love together. I’d say those are perfect anecdotes.
So the next time you find yourself out of ideas of things to do with your girl, pull the shades, dim the lights, bass up the stereo, sit back and enjoy the show.

With that bombshell it’s goodbye for now and good luck. Cheers.

Forgive Me, God, For I Have Sinned

Damn, how do I always get screwed by that Aritha woman? (And how do I wish to have meant that in the literal sense). She always manages to get on top of me (again…how I wish… literally).She knows something, I know something, but we wouldn't tell each other what it is. It's an endless loop.

Anyway, my attempt to relocate the blonde hair, blue eyes girl through Friendster has, needless to say, failed. It’s not that surprising anyway. The idea was to search the site for female, aged 25, located in Malaysia and has SRK Gombak 1 listed in her ‘School’ box. As you may have guessed, not many people actually bother to put down the name of their primary school on their profile. Especially people from Gombak. Hell, even I left it empty. But I did get a lot of hits of people studying at IIUM. Of course, almost all of them are shuttles. Big dis-o, even for a side entertainment. I guess the search shall be continued for another time then. Or better still, forget about her, move on and find a fresh new one. God knows I need one.

I went by the studio again today. To be on site when the people from Ikea delivers Pidot’s new bed. They said they would arrive by 5 pm. Cipoi and me waited for nearly 2 hours when they finally came at about 7. Those fuckers. Just so you know apart for some saucy magazines, there aren’t any entertainments at the studio. A TV coupled with Astro would do wonders for the place. Instead we just waited there and eventually dozed off, occasionally woken up by the continuous barking of some stupid dogs skimpering outside by the road.

As soon as Pidot’s so-called flat-packed bed components are neatly arranged by the wall of the living room, we head to NZ for some refreshments. Oh by the way, the Kinky Room already has a red carpet. I wonder how I missed that that the other day. It’s definitely kinky now.

Nothing much happened at NZ. Actually nothing happened worth mentioning. We were supposed to watch spidey at MBO Ampang but the person who floated the idea decided against it at the last minute. That’ll be my former head boy aka Macho aka Musangkas aka Chewbacca. I’d get a smack in the head if he ever finds out I call him that last name.

Anyway, I do wanna talk about credit cards. Yes, those evil little plastic cards that have lead so many to the dark side. And for the first time, I must admit I’m beginning the feel its power of attraction.

You see, I don’t have any credit cards since I’ve never actually felt that I need them. I always prefer to use cash. It makes you feel guiltier when you spend a shit of load money on a single transaction. And that I consider that to be a good thing. But now I have discovered a tiny flaw in my said principle – the Net.

I still couldn’t get my hands on Liberty Meadows Book 3: Summer of Love. It’s not that I don’t have the dough but it’s just not readily available at our local bookstores. It’s frustrating. What’s even more frustrating is to know how easily it is to purchase one through Amazon.com. But I can’t because I got no fuckin’ credit card! Not to mention some cool looking original movie posters. I surfed the other day and I found this one taken from Pulp Fiction, showing John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson, standing side by side, in their suits, pointing their guns in black and white. That would look awesome in my room. And there’s this original Rat Pack poster, also in black and white, of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr. and the likes. That too would look awesomely cool on my bedroom wall. But what really made me gone bonkers with this online transaction thingy is a website that was introduced to me recently by a word of mouth.

I can’t tell you the exact address of the site but I can tell you this - it’s a very, very naughty site. And what I can do, or gain, from having the ability to pay online, is to see this lady here (pic) get naked - Live!!! I mean, how fuckin' cool is that!? It's mind-blowingly awesome! Sorry, but I can't help it. I'm a man. It's biological. I think about sex every 20 seconds. And if my calculations are correct, I shouldn't be spending more than RM20 for this particular alone. And it wouldn be that bad. Just think about it. I've spent more money on petrol for 3 days worth of driving around KL. How could this even compare to some fossil fuel? Haih, temptations are so evil. And this girl? She has lot more friends from where she came from. A teasingly seductive idea. Seriously, the idea of sex is totally bewitching. Seeing naked women is one thing, but the idea of seeing her naked is another. And in this case, it's enough to make you go crazy.

Haih, that's it. Good night, people. And for those in possession of credit cards, I envy you. Cheers.

Sunset to Dawn, on Labour Day

None for April? Oh that is just so wrong (Jeff Anderson, Clerks II). Okay, for the simple sake of updating this blog, I’m just gonna put down something. And thank God I did something yesterday which, more or less, provided me with some points for elaboration. Even though it did end on such a down note.

I had relatives coming in droves yesterday and since someone had to send my youngest brother back to school (which was conveniently located at Kuala Selangor) it was left to me to do it because my mother who initially planned to undertake the task had to stay and play host to the unexpected gush of guests, while my elder brother, well, he’s busy preparing for his wedding this coming July. Oh didn’t I tell you? Yes, he is getting married. I mean, good for him, but not so for me. Y’see, being the second child, I’m next in line and situations aren’t ideal for a guy, who just received the most devastating news in his not-the-least love-aspiring life, to be in. as much as I’d like to share this life-changing piece if revelation but sorry, mates, we will not discuss moopy issues here. It’s a guy thing. Plus, it’ll get me into a whole set of new problems. And (back to my brother’s wedding discussion) to top it all off, he’s marrying to a MAS stewardess. Let me emphasize the word ‘MAS’ here. Not AirAsia, not FireFlyz, but MAS. Wet dreams, hello! I mean, talk about pressure for the second son. A stewardess! Now, how the fuck am I suppose to top that? Hitchin’ a stewardess could only be bettered if I were dating a model or a celebrity. Someone the likes of Natasha Hudson. But I couldn’t even make a move for a girl at a video store! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! A stewardess? You fuckin’ me? Seriously? Fuck, man! Huh, could I just say ‘fuck’, one more time, please? (Robert Downey Jr., Kiss Kiss Bang Bang).

So there, my brother’s getting married to a stewardess and I know, I shouldn’t be so hard on myself to live up to that standard, I mean, it’s all about love, right? It’s all that matters in the end. At least, that’s what people have been saying to me. Couldn’t say I totally believe in that concept. Besides, my brother’s been a ladies’ man since he was 12. I know it since we went to school together. I was 9 then and at that age I have yet to view girls as objects of affection. They were simply the opposite of boys. And boys were cool so go figure my mindset. And now, years later, occasionally I’d look back and made wishful thinking if only I had had that girl’s phone number. You probably remember I wrote something about her for a Valentine’s Day post. 2006, I think. She has blonde hair, blue eyes but she has a Malay persona. I didn’t give much thought about that back then but now, I’m guessin’ mixed parents. At 25, she would most definitely turn out to be one hell of a babe. And we had it good. We were both prefects in those days and on occasions during recess we would get assigned to hold watch in certain parts of the school and we would talk while I sat on the stairs and she played her imaginary hopscotch. It was like a scene direct out of Mukhsin. I’m just saying that even though I have yet to see the movie. I’ve managed to catch Gubra only just recently. But seriously, after 2 movies, I’m beginning to grow tired of Orked. Please, Ms Yasmin, give us something new. Anyway, that’s all I have left. A piece of memory, etched in time. Just me and… oh for fuck’s sake, I couldn’t even remember her name! What a darth prick (Rhys Ifans, Notting Hill). So much for that memory bullshit and I can’t even remember her name.

Wait, how the fuck did we get here? I wanted to talk about the studio and Carmen Electra in a bikini, and somehow I ended going down memory lane. Oh yes, that’s right, my future sister-in-law. Good luck topping that, mate. And if I should consider my ‘brilliant’ cohort’s advice (aka Watai), I should use her as a bridge to her other stewardesses friends. It’s certainly is a bright proposition but I think it’s still too early for that move just yet. I need to bond with her first before I can go say, ‘Oh since my brother has netted you, how about giving the younger brother exclusive access to your other lonely, perfectly shaped, fine-looking, high-flying stewardesses friends?’. Watch this space, people.

Fuck, I did it again. Wait, let me read what I’ve written. Oh yes, Kuala Selangor. Well, it seems irrelevant now. I wanted to talk about Ijok but fuck that, stewardesses are much more interesting. But enough about that. Some other time, perhaps.

Change of scenery: last night.

For the first time in 2007, Aritha called me up out of the blue yesterday evening asking me to join her and Sasa for dinner somewhere decent in a ,as she put it, ‘a Sex and the City like outing’. Except that it’ll involve me and I’m no Chris Noth. We went to Chef & Brew at Bukit Damansara which I must say the ambience is quite nice. And best of all, less crowd. But in hindsight less chikas to look at. Yes, yes, I know. Two ladies and a bloke at a nice restaurant, I was lucky as it was but looks can be so deceiving. Especially in my case. But it is not my place or right to discuss those matters. Maybe some other time. Maybe never. Most probably never. Anyway, Chef & Brew, you couldn’t miss it if you want to try and find it. The neon signage is so huge it would put strip clubs to shame. The food was not bad but the service could be better. One of the waiters actually forgot that I asked him for the bill. I had to do that air signature gesture twice. Like, hello, the place wasn’t even half-full. More like running at 12% occupancy. And get some fuckin’ deodorant. But overall it was okay. Maybe worth a second visit. But then the thousand dollar question looms – with whom the second visit shall be with? Sasa even mentioned another lovely Italian restaurant at Jalan Yap Kwan Seng and sure, I’d love to try it sometime but again, with whom? On top of my head I can think only a list of friends and Jes only eats salads. I explored her fridge the other day and it was so bare even the ice cubes indicated a significant presence. With how things are going, it’s probably only a matter of time before I start borrowing my friends’ girlfriends for decent night out with the opposite sex. And I know I wouldn’t have to deal with all that boyfriend paranoia hullabaloo. If only I can get myself over how stupid the idea actually sounds.

Anyway, back to Bukit Damansara. Everything was cordial and laid back when right after the main course Aritha had this sudden urge to play her version of ‘what if’ and began hounding me with me with these speculative questions about my possible initial attraction to the other females in our circle of friends (and slightly beyond who just happen to fall into the picture). Now, from what I know, there two different types of nightmares. One is the one you get when you are asleep and get chased by monsters or you discover you have a third nipple. The other is a real life situation in which you feverishly hope that you’d never find yourself in that would cause you much shame and anguish and with no direct route of escape. This is the latter. I don’t know if the situation came about because I am about the only straight guy that she could afford to forward these questions to or I just happen to stand too close to the spotlight. Either way, too late to ponder that by now. She mentioned every possible name, one by one, that she know that I’d be familiar of and for each one she asked the question, ‘Let’s say you are strangers and you saw (name) sitting at a table in a nice restaurant not far from you (and not in the middle of a date), as far as attraction goes, would I take the trouble to go and talk to her? If so, why and why not?’ Seriously, I’d rather have another go on the Solero Shot than to endure this at that time. You don’t ask these things to a guy in my position. Why do women need to know about all these? It’s a can of worms. But at the same time it’s not like I wanted to be a spoilsport so reluctantly, I played along. But I knew I was venturing into dangerous territories by doing so because the brain mechanics of a woman differs with that of a man. They decipher things quicker and better with issues pertaining to emotions and feelings. We men don’t bother to decipher them at all. So for every answer I laid I tried to apply as much damage control as I possibly can. But even so, I didn’t think I did pretty well in the end. I did manage to dodge, however, about…. y’know…. Zabrina. Yes, tiny accomplishment for me. But suffice to say, even though Aritha has found my closet of skeletons, I’m relieved she didn’t probe any deeper because there’s plenty more where that came from. That is, until she reads this. You know how women would tell you that they know something new and juicy about someone but they wouldn’t tell you the whole story? Or can’t or whatever bullshit. Well, she did the exact same thing to me last night, repeatedly. And guess whose turn is it, now? Hahah! The tables have turned. How you like me, now, baby? (who am I kidding? I’m so fucked).

Anyway, we left the place about 10.30pm and personally I was just glad that the interrogation has ended. Even though Sasa did manage to swing one at me towards the end on how does a person know if the man/woman he/she is with, is the right person to get married to. I say, Sasa, I don’t watch Oprah nor do I subscribe to Cosmo, so the answer is ‘I wouldn’t know’. Or quite simply, you’re asking the wrong person. For this I know I just happen to stand too close to the spotlight.

So, the ‘berpeleseran’ with the ladies has ended because Aritha has to go to work today. But the night was still young and luckily for me, the con of man, Watai, rang me because if he hadn’t, I would have. It was time to chill with the boys and I headed to Nasi Lemak Ampang. A name we coined for this nasi lemak spot between Ampang Point and the building that houses the CIMB Bank where every night a nasi lemak truck would park there and roll out the tables and plastic stools. It’s not the most flamboyant of places but we have grown to love it ever since the early years of our university days when we would get together during our semester breaks. So, the boys and I were chillin; and I considered it like a cooling down session. From a glass of orange juice which cost RM7 to a RM1 the o ais. We talked about work (or the lack of it), Bulu’s proposed birthday bash and a disgusting but nevertheless funny account that involved a shower head, among other things. We stayed until about 12 when our butts started to get cramps. I was ready to head home thinking there was nothing else to do when Watai invited me to the studio for a little closure.

The studio is the 1st floor of a shop house at Taman Pinggiran Ukay which came with atrocious and filthy ground floor neighbours (it’s a motorcycle workshop, go figure). It’s a project between Cipoi, Watai, Pidot, Kalut and Manjit, to turn this non-chalant place into a photography studio cum bachelor pad. It’s an enticing idea but it’s still in the early process of development. Thankfully though, the inside is quite nice. Lots of empty spaces still but initial cleaning had been done. And the stairway has been carpeted and so is the living room. So, lots of places for lying around and occasional sleepovers. Then there’s this room which I personally call the Kinky Room because of its all black painted wall. All that’s missing is red carpet covering the floor. Put some neon lights and you’re good to go. But the best part was that Manjit was already there with his girlfriend, Shaz, when Watai, Kalut, Pidot and me arrived. And Shaz was has some really nice legs. She has such fair skin and she was wearing a very short skirt. Manjit’s friends were so happy. That is until Manjit unsportingly began making noises about wanting to leave barely half an hour after our arrival. Based on our experience, it is usually the girlfriend who would initiate the long face and the desire to leave when her boyfriend was hanging at his friends’ place for far too long for her liking. It was the other way around this time. Anyway, we were left downbeated because a woman’s presence is always welcome at a (yet-to-be) bachelor pad and to see one leave just hurts. But they left anyway and the four of us were void of any entertainment. Thankfully there’s an FHM mag lying on the floor and it’s the US version albeit from 2003 and it has a centre spread of Carmen Electra wearing a bikini frolicking on a beach so, yeah, I was happy again. I wonder why Malaysian mags couldn’t be more like this. It’s so refreshing. And then Watai asked me to come along with him to his office at Jalan Pekeliling to return the company van that he borrowed to bring Pidot’s stuff from South City to the studio. He needed some company as the place gets very dark at night and so deserted it’s creepy. Okay, okay, whatever. I’ll go.

One thing for sure, traveling around KL in a van is so uncool. We had zero chance of anyone checking us out even though Watai did pretend as if he was driving the BangBus van.

When we arrived at the office it was indeed creepy. I went up with Watai for him to return the keys of the van while I took a leak and later explored the office’s fridge. Why do people always keep the extra chili sauce packets they get from McDonald’s? Classic waste not, want not case. We left the building and took off in Watai’s blue Satria which he had left there earlier when exchanging for the van. And Watai being Watai, we just had to do something before we head back to the studio. It was about 1.30am so we decided to check out Heritage Row hoping for some niceties along the sidewalk. Unfortunately though, all of them were inside. Not surprising since it was about peak time around that hour. So we headed back to the studio.

Back at the studio we talked more about Shaz’s legs, female officemates’ butts, the role of thongs to the ogling eyes of men and Jessica Alba. I was close to dozing off on the oversized pillow when Watai decided to head home and call it a night. Besides, Liverpool vs Chelsea was already starting and the studio lacks a TV set let alone an Astro decoder.

I stopped by at McDonald’s Taman Melati for a take away snack for the football game and I drove like mad to get home as soon as possible, not wanting to miss any more precious minutes.

Needless to say, I was very sleepy the moment I got home but nothing will stop me from watching the game. I went into lapses of sleep countless of time but I managed to held on up to nearly 5 am for the decisive penalty shoot-out. And you know what? Chelsea lost.

Chelsea lost.

Chelsea……lost……

I had a great dinner, I had a good laugh with the boys, I saw Carmen Electra half-naked and to end it all, Chelsea lost. Why? Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?????

I woke up today feeling extremely unhappy. For the moment I have lost my appetite for football. I wonder if Spider-man 3 would cure this. I know a trip to Geylang would but Singapore is just too far.

Lydia? Laila? Layla? Oh God, it has to be one of those. The blonde hair, blue eyes, braided pony tail girl from primary school. Okay, I didn’t mention the braided pony tail because I realized I forgot to mention it earlier. Or was it Nadia? You know what? I think I’ll try to look it up on Friendster. With that bombshell, I’ll see you again next time. Good night.

*picture of me at the studio with an FHM US mag, courtesy of Watai (yes, he has a thing for photography)

Inferno!!

All hail citizen journalism!!

Last Friday, y’see, I was on my way to Putrajaya and there was this potentially massive traffic jam building up which surprised me because I thought it was still quite early for it to be this bad, even for the KL-Seremban Highway. Then again, I wouldn’t know. Anyway, I was crawling along for a full 20 minutes before I knew what really caused the traffic, as you can clearly see by the picture below.




Yes, that’s right. Fireball of death! Inferno from Hell! I know, I’m exaggerating but how often do you get to see a van engulfed in flames on a public highway? Live right before your eyes? I’m pretty sure this was my first time. And this is when a camera phone becomes very handy. And as you can see, I was clearly seated at the passenger’s side of the car. Not breaking any traffic rules there.

Y’know what? I should utilize this camera phone thing more often. Well, excuse me for upgrading too late to realize the joys and convenience of it while people like Gary Oldman are already persuading the public to become amateur film makers with the N Series. Which, if I may point out, is rather cool. If you’re that self-absorbed, that is.

But you know the best part of having a camera phone? You can finally take a permanent memory of that beautiful woman who just walked by. And I almost did that. Almost. She was sitting right across me at the café and she already realized I was sneaking glances at her. Somehow the idea of taking out my shiny blue handphone and held it in a position much too obvious to suggest that I was clearly aiming my lens towards her, would seem incredibly perversive. And yet, I still regretted my decision not to do just that. If I did, man, she would be definitely worth it. But the moment has passed and I have nothing of proof except for my words. Cherish, people, of all things beautiful. ‘Cause you’ll never know when the next one’s coming. And suddenly I become all philosophical.

Well, cheers and later.

This Thing Called YouTube

There’s this brilliant new thing on the Net called YouTube. Okay, it’s not new. It’s been there for ages, technologically speaking. And although I do realize its existence all this while, I never got around to appreciate its true depth in video sharing that it provides to Net users all over the globe. That is, until one hot and dull Saturday afternoon.

Still frustrated at my lack of success of finding a DVD copy of Clerks, an idea pops into my head one day and it said ‘why don’t I just search it on YouTube?’. I mean, people have been saying you can get a whole load of shit there, I guessed, why not give it a try? So I entered a query, ‘Clerks’, and what do you know? It actually produced results. And the right ones too. Now, I got a clip showing a collection of funny scenes from the movie on my Friendster profile under Favorite Movies. You can check it out and see why I am so obsessed about getting a copy of the movie for myself. And Chasing Amy? The movie title that I tried with that girl from the Ezy video store? That too is on YouTube. And better still, there’s a full movie on it. Just not in its entirety, so to speak. Some guy or girl chopped the movie into 13 parts of 10 minute scenes and put in online. Although I’ll admit that it is kind of a dodgy way of watching a movie but being a Kevin Smith fan (the same dude who made Clerks) just to be able to watch is already a reward on its own and so it is definitely worth it. As an enticement, I’ll put a clip showing a scene from the first part of the movie down here. After watching that, you tell me that you aren’t the least curious about finding out what the rest of the movie is all about. As a matter of fact, I’ll just tell you. It’s about a straight guy (Ben Affleck) who falls for a lesbian. I bet you’ve never seen a love story like this before (or at least with a better dialogue and storyline). Click, click, anyone?

Tempting Fate

Seriously. I was ready. Maybe not 100% confident but I was ready. Was it my fault that she took the day off? Hey, it was beyond my control. Now, we’ll never know what would’ve happened, do we? (Whew!) Not that I’m relieved or anything. I’m…I’m angry okay? I’m disappointed, frustrated, crushed because I did prepare myself, I really did. Now, we’ll have to wait another day. If that day should ever come. My SASOB genes have prevailed, yet again.

But, no worries. In a few moments, I’ll be driving off, leaving behind the city to travel up north. Way up north to the island called Langkawi. Now this is a relief. I really do need a time off. But time off with the boys doesn’t actually involve relaxing down by the pool or taking walks along the beach. Wait, we did take a walk along the beach last time. But that was all in the interest of looking out for hot chicks running around in their swimsuits. Not that I really need to tell you but no luck then either. But it’ll be different this time. I don’t know how but it will be.

So, dear fellow readers. Enjoy your holidays. Get out. Talk to some friends. Make it a sin for you to stay at home. It will make your time more worthwhile. You know I’m right.

That’s it folks. I’m off with my beemer who I have yet to name. I’m thinking of Bethany but that doesn’t sound slutty enough. Well, au revoir.

Valentine's Is Here Again

I have returned to the scene. Sounds kind of morbid, doesn’t it? But actually, I haven’t thought about it when I first decided to come here. It just hit me a while ago. My intentions, originally, was to look for some inspiration, as a cure for writer’s block, which I think I’m currently suffering from. Think about it. One post for the whole of January? I mean, what a pathetic rate is that? Even Ronaldo has a better scoring rate in the same period of time. Okay, maybe not but you get my point. So, here I am back at Starbucks KLCC, and blogging. Believe me, if this one ever gets posted, consider this experimental exercise a success.

It’s slightly past 6 in the evening, people are leaving from work and it’s the 13th of February. That’s right – it’s Valentine’s eve. You know what? I don’t why I give such a damn about February 14th. Actually, I do have a good guess but it’s kind of embarrassing to admit it here but anyway, I mean, it’s not that I have any good experience when it comes to Valentine’s – ever. Well, maybe once when I managed to woo Eiwa to Teluk Batik for dinner by the sea under the stars and bright moonlight. But even that was on the 15th. I suppose technically, that doesn’t count. But somehow, every time I take a look at my scantily clad ladies of a calendar (courtesy of FHM), the date February 14th always just pops out. Teasingly, demands constant attention. So, here we are, year 2007, reminiscing, again, about Valentine’s Day.

Before anything else, let me just say that I have no plans whatsoever for tomorrow. I’d like to but no. So, yes, tomorrow looks very promising indeed. Thumbs up. And no, we will not be talking about love in this particular post. You have Jennifer Weiner and Hugh Grant for that (this is in no way undermining the talents of both Jennifer and Hugh. I really do think they are both exceptional at what they do. And they’re funny. You don’t dismiss funny people). But here, we are a bit more rational. So, we’re going to talk about the next best thing, and probably the only thing in this blog since its conception. That is, women.

I, for one, am not an expert on this subject, but then again, what man is? As in the words of Harith Iskander from Sepet, “I’ll never understand women. Even if I live to be a hundred.” Well said, Mr Harith. So, if you’re expecting meaningful advice, we’re not Dr Phil either. We can give you tips though. Theoretical tips. Although, we are in no uncertain terms can guarantee you the success in using them.

What we can, and will do, is just talk, and ponder, and complain, and in the end, come to no absolute conclusion. Which in that lies, may I point out, what makes it all worthwhile and quite simply enjoyable. Which brings us, finally and exhaustively, to our topic of the day – picking up women from places that usually people don’t pick up women from.

Let me point out that I am not about to reveal the secrets behind picking up women from places that people don’t usually pick up women from. Those are the kinds of articles you can find in men’s magazines. Here is just a corny blog. And corny blogs just throws more questions rather than answers. And the question is, as you may have guessed, is how. How do you really pick up women from places that people don’t usually pick up women from? Okay, let me first give an example of the kind of places that I mean. For starters, how about the cold storage section of a supermarket? I mean, you’re there, at Carrefour, for example, and you’re picking out Kraft cheese slices when you notice this amazing looking woman beside you. You realize that you only have a split-second window of an opportunity and you need to say something quick that would sound charming and give a good impression or she would just slip away. In that sudden intense moment, what do you say? “Got milk?” That would sound stupid, if not offensive.

How about when you’re queuing for a movie ticket? And you have this vivacious young woman standing in front of you. No, make that standing behind you. And you just notice her because she had this wonderful perfume on. What do you say? “Excuse me. Sorry to bother you but I couldn’t make up my mind on what to watch. May I ask you what you’ll be watching?” Wait a minute. That’s actually not half bad. But, point being, some people just have an instinctive way of starting conversations with hot beautiful strangers. These are usually the ones who say, “Just go talk to her,” when they notice you’re eyeing someone. Of course, those kinds of situations rarely end favourably for people like me, the ones who couldn’t possibly start a conversation on a whim with Jessica Alba look-alikes. Or as a friend of mine has eloquently have created the term SASOB, which concerns an entirely whole different topic.

Question unanswered, let’s raise another one. Why am I suddenly discussing this? Well, that’s probably the most interesting part so far. Real life interconnection, of course.

Some of you would probably remember the time I talked about this lovely looking girl who was working at the ticket counter at GSC 1 Utama. Up to this day I still couldn’t decide what are the best words to say to her that would make her even considering letting me have her number or taking her out for a drink. And not to mention the people who were lining up behind me. Talk about pressure and time constraint. The best one I could think so far is “Tickets for [movie] please for us and your phone number for me,” Even that doesn’t sound convincing enough. Of course, this was many months back. I haven’t seen her for a ling time now. But recently, a similar case had popped up. This time it’s a girl working at Video Ezy at, well, here at Suria. She’s one of those girls who would come up to those people who were rummaging through the cases of VCDs/DVDs, forehead wrinkled looking for that elusive particular title, and offer her assistance. That was how I first met her. I was looking for Chasing Amy and when turn to look at the person for who voiced “May I help you, sir,” for a brief moment, words were stuck in my throat. Standing before me was a girl that I could only describe as hot and adorable at the same time. Slightly brown hair, big eyes, fair skin, epic tits (Jude Law, Closer).

“Chasing Amy,” I finally said to her, referring to the movie title that she would try to help me find.
“Kissing Amy?” her response made me stood in awe as the word ‘kiss’ began to trigger impure thoughts running through my mind.
“No, no. Chasing Amy,” as I repeated slowly, slightly stammering.
“Oh Chasing Amy,” as she began to scatter to the counter to check the title using the store’s computerized system. At that point I was almost certain she would return with a negative answer since it is a rare title but, bloody fuck, what a face and body. When she did return to tell me the inevitable answer, I thanked her for her efforts and purposely linger around the store just to have a longer look at her. At one point, I even pretended to be interested in the Special Interest section (fishing, golf, hip-hop workout) since that was the best position that I can look at her without being too obvious. After hanging around for far too long for a customer who in the end didn’t buy anything, I left, thinking that sooner or later I should do something about this, or the opportunity would slip away. And today, without shame, I once again stalked her. This time from across the store. I stood against the railing in front of Wizshop as she intermittently came and disappear into view as she wandered around the store. And after more conducive consideration while writing this post, I have decided to actually do something tomorrow. Wow, did that come as too bold? Well, at least I’ll try. Damn, just thinking about it just makes my heart pound. I am finally having a go against my SASOB genes. Be a loser I shall be no more. Of course, typing is so much easier than doing it. But having an objective is at least something. All I have to do is to figure out something nice to say and not stammer while saying it. Who am I kidding? Of course I’ll stammer tomorrow. But fret not, confidence. Confidence is all I need. Besides, it’ll be Valentine’s tomorrow. If there’s any day that a woman wishes to be picked up by a stranger from anywhere it’s tomorrow. So, tomorrow promises to be a very interesting day now doesn’t it? Huh,so much for no plans on Valentine’s Day.

Now, updates.

My birthday party was a bang. Charlene and Michelle couldn’t make it but we had fun nevertheless. I did have a Charlene and Michelle substitute although not Hugh Hefner-esque but definitely Page 3 material. Seriously, it was more that I could hope for. It made me very happy. And Jes was absolutely fantastic in providing us her place. I tell you, her Westin nest is simply delightful. And to think that she’ll be staying there until July and waking up every morning in her Heavenly Bed, I mean, I could only envy her. As for food, nothing lavish as I had originally planned. Lavish, you see, doesn’t come in practical form. There’s lavish, practical and extremely expensive and so not worth it but lavish and practical? No. A mythical concept. As for the cake? Guess what? Secret Recipe. Reason for that? Well, there’s just no other cakes like the ones that Secret Recipe makes. A variety of choices is one thing and have you ever realized how huge their cakes are? I mean, we are so used to them that we forgot one of the main reason we like them so much in the first place. It’s their sheer size. It dwarves the cakes from other bakeries. Even from the proper bakeries like Baker’s Cottage and Angel Cake House. So, who am I to argue? Viva capitalists. And for the record, there were no leftovers of the Black Forest cake. Proof of success. Well, not until the next morning, that is. So, thank you, again, Jes, and all the rest who attended. And thank you for the gifts.

In other news, I have finally sported a new handphone after years of daydreaming. It’s the Motorola KRZR K1 and it’s incredibly sexy. My pride and joy. And as for my ride, I am now driving an E36 – a 1994 BMW 3 Series, dark blue in colour. And without a stereo. A common trait with Valerie. Along with the colour. Speaking about Valerie, don’t worry, she’s still around. So there are now 5 cars parked around my home every night. Well, 4 cars and 1 4x4. An Accord, a Spectra, a Celica, an E36 and a Pajero. People must think we are too rich for our own good.

From the outside, I look pretty successful don’t I? 25 and driving around in a BMW. Oh how looks can be deceiving. Nevertheless, my fellow SASOB are pretty much excited about my beemer and have decided to elect it as the official vehicle to Kuala Kedah this CNY for our Langkawi trip Part II. Oh yes, the return of the wannabe beach boys and all night partying. Hell, I’m still young to have some good time. And, if everything works out well enough for the next few months, the much anticipated trip to Bali. It was pretty hectic the first time at Langkawi. God knows what will happen at Bali. But potentially exciting nevertheless.

So, let’s see, hot girl at video store and the Langkawi trip. Well, looks like I’m done. Happy Chinese New Year and a very sexy Valentine’s Day to all. To V-Day skeptics, don’t worry, Valentine’s is overrated anyway. Good night and cheers.

2007: A New Hope

Greetings and welcome. Guess what? I’m back!

(Cheers)

Yes, it’s 2007 and I’m welcoming you back to a brand new season of It’s A Guy Thing. Although no improvements or modifications whatsoever has been made to the site, I am looking forward towards a fruitful and promising year ahead.

So, how were your New Year celebrations? For me, I dozed off in front of the TV while watching the nonsensical New Year talk show on NTV7. To make it even more embarrassing, I fell asleep and it wasn’t even before midnight! It was the first time in years that I haven’t stayed up until at least after 12 to usher in the New Year. But mind you, I had a good reason. As you all were aware, AidilAdha fell on the 31st, so New Year’s Eve night, oh I was back at Kelantan by the way, and I had this awesome korban feast. God knows how much sup tulang/ekor I had. I know it was irresponsible and down right unhealthy but I’m not a fan of any diet regime anyway. One good thing about going back to Kelantan is that even with the absence of any Internet connection (didn’t matter if that quake at Taiwan happened or not) and Astro, which does annoy me every single day, the food is just unforgettably fabulous. Not to mention cheap. I mean, the morning I arrived I had rice with gulai itik serati for breakfast. And true ayam kampong. Not like the ones in the city where you can taste the hormones injected. Okay, that meal didn’t actually come cheap but in terms of originality, you can’t get it anywhere else.

Okay, enough about food. Now I’m back at the city and back at work. Yeah, hip-fuckin’ hooray. But good news though, school holidays are over and that means there’s less queue if I want to catch something at the movies. If not, the only decent time to get a ticket was during the 11am shows and how often am I willing to make that kind of effort during the weekends? Probably never. As a matter of fact, I think I’m gonna catch a flick after work. Which reminds me, it’s that time of the month again to pay Abby a visit.

There are 3 Abbys in my life. One is a female work colleague of mine whom I borrowed a red pen and never returned it. The other is a former school mate, a guy of course, from Sarawak who once sprayed a syringe which was filled with 90 degrees Celcius of sterile water onto the back of my neck during Biology class. I let out a reflex scream and it was pretty embarrassing when suddenly you got everyone’s attention in class, including the teacher at front. The one I’m referring to right now is neither of them but my hot hair stylist at Jantzen. You know, apart from receiving my salary, getting my haircut is only other thing that I look forward to every month.

And there’s something pretty weird going on between Abby and me. You see, every time I get my haircut done, I do nothing but look at her through the mirror at the front. Nothing but pure ogling relaxation. And you know what? I think she began to notice. And I think it kinds of flatters her. Heck, she might even be enjoying it. I say this because previously, we rarely talked about anything except how I want my hair to look like. But lately she began to ask these how-are-you type questions. Like this one time I came after work and it was about 7 pm and before I could sit my ass down she asked me whether I had my dinner yet. For a split second I was taken aback and went ‘Huh?’, but then I answered ‘no’. ‘Lepas ni makan lah?’ she said further rather inquisitively, along with that seductive smile of hers. I told I’d be having dinner at home, with the puzzling look still upon my face. It was probably my imagination but for a brief moment there I had a strange feeling that she was baiting me to ask her out to dinner. You may be laughing but almost the same thing happen the next time I went to see her. It was lunchtime during a weekend and this time my answer to her same previous question was I already had my lunch. An honest reply in which I regretted almost immediately, thinking that how it might have went if I had said ‘no’ instead and replied further with, ‘Would you like to join me?’. Oh how things would’ve gone differently.

As for my last visit, there were no questions about my state of hunger but while I’m usually transfixed by her reflection in the mirror, this time I found a woman’s magazine among the ones piled in front of me and in it found an interview held with Daniel Craig talking about his new role as James Bond. Of course, I just had to read it because in my eyes Daniel Craig is just so cool. For those who’ve seen Layer Cake would agree with me. But midway through my reading, all of a sudden I noticed that Abby was practically standing in front of me. Her thighs were brushing against mine (how else do you think I noticed her?). This is nothing unusual in a haircutting context except that I never remembered her ever doing this. It was as if she was annoyed that I wasn’t paying my usual attention to her and she was making me aware of the fact. Well, it was probably paranoia but it worked anyway. I ogled her from then on.

As for today, I have no idea what to expect. But I am excited by the thought of seeing her again. Such is the dire state of my love life that I’m beginning to have fantasies about my hair stylist. This is so not right.

***

Well, truth be told, nothing happened yesterday. Yes, it’s a brand new day and I sport a trimmed hairdo although I have come none closer to getting laid.

So, today we are going to leave the hair stylist subject alone and move on to other topics such as the big birthday bash. Whose bash, you may ask? Well, mine, of course. And make no mistake, I do intend to make it big. Well, not as big as the parties you see on MTV’s My Super Sweet 16 where once I saw an episode in which a kid was devastated because Kanye West couldn’t come and perform at his birthday party. Damn spoiled rich kids.

Anyway, as far as the venue is concerned, Jes’ place at the Westin is flamboyant enough and I don’t have to pay a single cent for it. Thanks, Jes. Friends with cool places are so hard to come by. So, with that I can focus my resources on other things…such as the two exotic dancers named Charlene and Michelle. We’ve agreed that they’ll pretend to be the nurses who will be attending me, the depressed patient who they are trying to cheer up.

If only that was true.

Fantasies not withstanding, I’d probably just figure out something different for the food, especially the birthday cake. Have you realized how Secret Recipe cakes have become the standard for every small parties nowadays? Sure they taste good, come in helpful large sizes and just about everybody like them. But quite frankly, I’m getting bored of it. My reason being is since their stores are located everywhere in the city nowadays, I can drop by at any one of them to have a slice of their Chocolate Banana on any other day for a quick relief has made it lost some of its exclusivity. I mean, I miss the days when people’s eyes lit up when the cake is rolled into view. I want guests to exclaim excitedly, ‘Ooh, what’s that? It looks so delicious!’ and not another attendee whispering to another, ‘Oh it’s a Rocky Mountain. I had a slice last week. It’s good but I still prefer the Chocolate Mud,’ See what I mean?
So, if not Secret Recipe, what then? Well, I have no idea really. I did list down a few potentials. There’s a nice bakery at Ampang although I couldn’t remember what it’s called. Or I could just opt for something from Top Hat. I hear they make some nice cakes over there. Or I might get something from Westin itself. I’m sure they have a nice little café somewhere near the lobby. Though there’s a 100% chance it’s going to be overpriced. Come to think of it, why not simply ask Westin to organize something for me? Well, it’s not like asking for a favour. I might have to pay a hefty price for it but it will certainly fall into my idea of ‘big’. Oh yeah! Rock on!

Anyway, those are all considerations for the time being. I still have about a month to organize my 25th on the 25th. That’s right. It rhymes. That’s why it’s got to be big.

Another thing, this will probably sound a little aloof, but to save you the trouble and my potential awkwardness of saying ‘thank you’ not so honestly, here’s a few items that you could get me as a birthday gift, should you decide to do so. Kind of like a wedding register. So, here’s the list:

1. An Aston Martin DB9 – don’t worry, I know you can’t afford it. I think there are only a few people in the country who actually can. Even if you can, and you give one to me as a present, I don’t think I can pay for the petrol. Not to mention the road tax. I once saw a Mercedes with a 4.2 litre V8 engine which cost RM5000 in road tax. The DB9 has a 6.0 litre V12 engine. That’s three times the engine capacity of Valerie. It’s basically murder. Maybe I should just forward this in my wedding register. Just a case of convincing the future bride to agree along. She would most definitely think it’s stupid.

The REAL list:

1. Clerks (Part 1) DVD – it’s a movie, directed by Kevin Smith and so far I have a hard time finding it. It’s maybe because of the fact that it was released in 1994. I don’t think DVD technology was there in 1994. They were using something called a VCR. But they did re-release it in 2004 (to celebrate its 10th year anniversary). So, if you could find a copy for me – awesome. And it doesn’t need to be from Speedy or Ezy. The ‘cheap’ ones would do just fine.

2. Liberty Meadows Book 3: Summer of Love – it’s one of those comic strip compilations books like Lat’s Kampung Boy. The graphic artist is Frank Cho. If you could manage to find this book, you’d have a pretty good guess on why I like his work.

3. Next by Michael Crichton – if by blood, sweat and tears you couldn’t get your hands on the above items (I know they are hard to find), here’s an easy one - Crichton’s latest novel. Available in every major bookstores nationwide though, unfortunately, is only available in hard cover for the time being. So it would cost around RM70 a piece if I’m not mistaken. You could share, please, by all means. Just make sure every one of you puts a signature on the opening pages. For the girls, you could add a few X’s and O’s, and a lipstick mark (Jes would know what I’m talking about).

4. Grey’s Anatomy Season 2 – I always miss the show on TV. And I like Katherine Heigl. Do you know tha she’s one of the main girls in 100 Girls. Damn, I love that movie. Oh if you can’t find Clerks, get me 100 Girls. I’d be equally happy. I just hope Kevin Smith doesn’t read this.

5. Remember that Digi ad on TV where everyone is saying ‘hello’? There’s one scene where this man squeeze this pillow-like thingy on his desk which looks like a rat and it gives out this throaty yet cartoonish ‘hello~’? Yeah, I want that.

I guess that’s it for the time being. If I come up with any more quirky ideas, I’ll add to the list later.

Okay, folks, I think I’ll call it a day. But with the shitty state of the Internet connection, who knows when I will be able to post this up. Kind of lessens the excitement of the comeback, doesn’t it? Oh well, ‘til again. Cheers.

Najua: The Final Chapter

Oh God it feels awful, doesn’t it? Coming back after a long Raya break. Kind of feels like school again. And we tell the children to buck up. Tsk tsk shame on us. Well, for me, I was already back at the office since last Thursday so excuse me for not sharing your extra strong, double caffeinated Monday blues for today. I went past that phase last week. Much so when I had to spend my third Raya in the vicinity of Northport, Klang. Land of bad roads, oversized trailers and crow infested landfills. So don’t even talk to me about post-Raya depression.

Talking about depression, man, do I have something to tell you people. The subject on hand is none other than about the girl that I have been raving about for the past months. The girl that goes by the name of Najua.

Yes, maybe some of you have gotten tired of me talking about her and I promise you that this will probably be the last time I’ll mention her name on this blog. At least, I hope so. Because I said the exact same thing about Eiwa a few years back and look how well that turned out. Man, I really have to do something about my obsession with obsessions. Nice pun, huh? Anyway, okay, I admit, Najua is an obsession. No need to fuck around about that anymore. Screw all false pretences. Time for some cold hard truth.

I’m gonna lay it plain and simple. Najua is with Paul. Yes, by ‘with’ I mean as ‘in a relationship’, okay? Get the message? I, of course, am fucking disappointed. No, make that before. Before, I was disappointed. As for now…, now I am upset. And moving towards outrage. It’s not so much that I lost the battle for her, but I lost to a middle-aged, not-so-good-looking bloke from England with a receding hairline. I mean, seriously, what does he have that I don’t? Well, apart from money and power, that is. Oh wait, that’s probably it. Fucking money! And befriending the owner of the company to whom you work for which happens to be the girl's uncle! Oh how could I’ve been so blind!? Oh yeah, sure, and people tell me it’s love. Ah fuck love! What’s love gotta to do with it? It's all about those nifty little notes which comes with the Agung's face on it. You see what’s going on here? You see? This is why, this is exactly why good people like us have a hard time falling in love. These women, the same group of women who constantly complains about no being able to find a good man anymore these days could not spot one even when he is standing right under their noses. Besides, Paul’s penis is probably too big for her anyway. Najua is like Amy Mastura, y'see. She’s 4' 11'', this Najua, and Paul is like Sam Allardyce. Now, unless you’re a porn star, you and I know that spells incompatibility all over. You can’t shove a white board marker into a pencil sharpener. Something will get broken. And it won’t be a pretty sight.

I’m bitter. And I have every right to be bitter! But you know what? No one is to blame in this thing. Not Najua nor Paul. They’re just two confused individuals who during their ignorant endeavours on life, has left me hurt. Well, I’ve tasted even worse emotional pains before but this does hurt nevertheless.

I guess the situation now begs the question – what now? I still could go out with Najua – as friends, whatever fuck that means. But I’m certain she’ll try her very best to bring that old lugger Paul along. So, might as well forget about that. And to tell you the truth, he's not that funny. You know, lately, a few of my friends asked me what if Najua ever finds out about my blog. Well, before this I would’ve reacted in a horrified manner screaming “Oh fuck!! God forbid for that ever to happen!”. But now, if it does happens, I could calmly say that I couldn’t care less. As a matter of fact, I think it’d be better if she does finds out. So here’s to you, Najua, if you ever stumble upon this. Najua, you’re an amazing woman with such great potential in life and it is such a huge disappointed that you should fall for someone like Paul. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see how wrong you are for each other. Sure, you’ve known Paul a long time and you probably think, hey, what’s wrong with that? Well, nothing, really. But don’t you think it’d be better if he’s twenty years younger? I don’t know about your family but if my sister comes home one day with someone who my father think is old enough to be his brother then I think he’ll have a heart attack then and there. As for me, I’d sell one of my kidneys just to get a smuggled gun to off him.

Najua, Najua, oh Najua. How could you even think that you will find no one else after your ex? I’d say 8 out of 10 guys will confess to how beautiful you actually are. And the other 2 are Ridhu and Watai. And it’s not as if you’re a bimbo. You have a degree for God’s sake. You tell me yourself how proud you are of that fact and yet, your actions contradicts everything that you’ve said to me. All I’m saying is as much as you favour Paul, I really do think you deserve someone better. And it may not even be me but to pick Paul without even glancing at me? I take that as a personal insult. Of all your admirable qualities, Najua, your most notable weakness is probably your naïvity. The same trait that lead you to self-denial that your ex was really cheating on you and now, that you and Paul could actually have a future together. But maybe you will find happiness eventually. Hey, I’m glad if I’m wrong in saying that but I assure you it’ll be a journey full of hardship.

(sigh) My final say? Good luck to you, Najua. I just hope it’s a bigger lost for me than it is for you.

Now, for any one of you who now even much as think about notifying Najua about the existence of this blog by the time you've finished reading this, by the hair of a midget circus bear named Ralph, I forbid you. If Najua should ever find about this blog, it has to be self-discovery. I don’t care if it takes ten years from now before she even read this but, people, promise me this - no telling, no matter what. Unless if Sandra finds out about this first then the moment of truth would probably come sooner rather than later. I sincerely believe that woman is completely incapable of keeping a secret.

It’s enough that older men are aftering women my age, but a foreigner? Fuck this is just too much. Then what we local young men are left with? The ex-wives of the older men whom they left behind? What am I? Ashton Kutcher? I don’t care how good they still look. I don’t want used products! Damn these Hollywood trends. And we just blindly assume they’re cool. Well, aren’t we the clever ones.

Let’s close this chapter on Najua. She is no longer an issue. Well, at least it has been fun talking about her. It did give some direction to my blog for a while. Now that she’s become unavailable once again, I have no main issue to pursue anymore. Maybe I should attend more parties. But they always put on such terrible songs. When would they realize that Justin Timberlake actually couldn’t sing? And the same goes to Ashlee Simpson. And don’t even get me started on Paris Hilton.

Anyway, even though it has ended painfully (for me, at least) I thank you, Najua, for giving me hope and then crushing it to pieces, and to serve as an inspiration to It’s A Guy Thing albeit momentarily. And screw you, Paul.

Pre-Raya Celebrations

It’s Raya season again. A time of joy and lots of food. By this time it is safe to say that about 60% of the city’s population has gone back to their respective kampungs to be with their families. But what about the other 40%? Well, we’d like to welcome Raya in a rather different way.

A few of us got together, picked a bachelor pad, order in stacks of pizzas and watch Man Utd vs Liverpool. Sadly though, Liverpool lost. Not that I’m a Liverpool fan. I’m just anti-ManU.

That's Watai with the red cap, me with the cool headpiece from Seaworld Indonesia, Kme in the white Liverpool shirt, Jalak in the red Liverpool shirt and Ridhu in green.


On the balcony are Small Fries (left) and Macho the host (right). Cipoi's on the right sofa alongside Jalak who I have no idea what he was doing. The TV is on the right. That's why we were all looking in that general direction.


That's Manjit on the left. Another Man U supporter.


Tasha Scoinsssssss!!!!

Since the match ended around 10 pm, we just had to go out somewhere else. So, we decided to provide KL with some company. More specifically - Starbucks, KL Plaza. This is Watai's rendition of an artistic shot - me on his digicam screen.

So, people, on behalf of all (including Jalak's finger), Selamat Hari Raya.

Majlis Berbuka Puasa Bersama Anak-anak Yatim (but without the anak-anak yatim)

Remember I told you about the buka puasa session that’s to be held at the JW Marriot during the weekend? Well, it went down smoothly last Sunday. This is a little bit about that night.

First of all, it was great to have most of the invitees present. A total of 13 people came and as the project manager, I’d say it was a successful outing. The people present were mostly friends from our university days and we hadn’t had a gathering as big and momentous such as this for a long time. Probably since graduation, which was last December. So everyone was excited and looking forward to this night.

Sadly though, the venue itself was a tad disappointing. It was probably because of the haze and the absence of rain on that day but it was incredibly warm on the premises. It was if we were all sitting beside a hot spring rather than the hotel’s swimming pool. And the food wasn’t great either. There were hardly any highlights. I could point out the roast lamb and that’s probably just it. Even the dessert table had only five items on it. Naturally I’d expected more from 5 star hotel buffet. I guess it explains the relatively low price as compared to other hotel establishments.

But most importantly I think everybody had fun. Especially with Kak Nieta around. So, to all who came that night, I personally thank you for making it a memorable one. It made the RM700+ full payment I had to pay upfront for the reservation worthwhile. 'Til then, people.

Webek! Webek!

Chillin' after a hefty meal. That's me flanked by women. But I guess you'd probably knew that.

(left to right: Aritha, Me, Jes (at the front), Sasa, Irwan (at the back), Apau, Acai)

This is the shot ala paparazzi that Cipoi took (siap ade frame lagi). As you can see, from left to right, there's me, Irwan, Acai, Yusrizal, Small Fries, Aritha, Regina, Jes and Apau.

The Second Date, And Everything After

It was probably a month ago that during a casual evening drink with some of the boys and a healthy dose of cleavage at Syed Kelana Jaya that Cipoi made an unjustified remark on Najua to me. He called her a “backstabber”. I call it unjustified because he was obviously just ill-informed. And I didn’t even correct him. Mainly because if I did, then I had to lay out to him and the rest the whole detail surrounding the second date which had completely rendered the horrifying experience of the first date irrelevant. That’s right, people. I did go out a second date with Najua. Needless to say, it was awesome. But I didn’t blog it, nor told anyone about it. This would be the first time. I don’t know why I didn’t. Probably because I never got around the proper angle on how to tell everyone how great it went. It was great but nothing really extraordinary about it. A 40 year-old guy and an aunt in a silver Audi, now that’s extraordinary. But this one, it was just a good classic date. Kind of like staying at the Hilton. It’s just a great stay. Nothing more, nothing less.

However, I finally decided (maybe even compelled) to write something about it because as a consequence of not following up on the entre about the first date has left some, if not many, under the impression that Najua is a wretched, and maybe even vile, woman for the way my previous evening with her had ended. I, for one, would like to dispel all those beliefs.

The second date took place at Starbucks, KLCC. As for when, well, if the meeting with Cipoi was about a month ago, then the date with Najua could might as well be long before that. Anyway, to start off, taking her to Starbucks was actually a bad idea because it was then that I found out that she hates coffee. She likened black coffee as a watered version of an ashtray. Quite a harsh comment but she did mention it was all her mother’s doing. The woman practically banned coffee from all her offspring since birth. So Najua ordered a caramel macchiato instead. Mental note to self: no more coffee and cakes sessions with Najua. Well, at least not coffee. Cakes are still delectable.

We spent about three and half hours together talking. It’s amazing what a little drizzle during the evening can do. As the sun sets in the horizon and the plethora of lights came to life surrounding the KLCC Park area, it can only be described as perfect. The only way it can be bettered was instead of the Twin Towers, it’s the Eiffel Tower that loomed over us.

One of the highlights of the conversation was the topic of breasts. In particular hers. See, she was complaining on how she wishes to have bigger breasts. I, in one of my rare exceptions of going against the normal male genes, thought her wishes are quite ridiculous. Primarily for the basic reason that she looks good as she is. Isn’t that what women want? For men to appreciate them as they are? If you already have a good package, then additional accessories need not apply. Take Eva Longoria, for example. Or Keira Knightley, or Natalie Portman. Women who aren’t exactly famed due to their prized assets but still held in high regards by the male public nonetheless. But then again, after seeing last night’s episode of Nip/Tuck, I think her motives are understandable. But I still she looks fine as she is. Why ruin something which by definition already beautiful?

Anyway, we got to more surprisingly serious stuff afterwards. We managed to tackle the subject of marriage. I asked her how in the world could she, a woman who share the same age with me, was mentally prepared for something as big as a marriage before the debacle with her ex took place. And she replied, as cordially as possible, that she just was. And she still is. It’s just that she isn’t ready to jump into a new relationship just yet. It’s one of those things, I guess. You just know, you know? Damn, I sound like David Carradine here. But for a moment there, I had to say I was kinda spooked by her cool demeanor on the subject. Because I, for one, am petrified by the husband concept, let alone embrace it.

But one of the interesting things when were talking about marriage was how the perception of it had changed according to modern times. Back in the days women used to get married for reasons of security and stability. Not so true nowadays where women could have such a formidable career that could even lead them to become CEOs of Fortune 500 companies and Prime Ministers that the aspect of securing a financially stable future that used to come with the promise of marriage has fell well within their grasp. In short, women have become so independent nowadays that she doesn’t need a husband for a Coach handbag or a trip to Europe every year. We both agreed on this and so, I asked her, since between the two of us, she was the one who got very close to matrimony.

“So, what, if any, are the benefits of getting married nowadays?”
“Erm…you could have sex more often,” she answered while a smile formed slowly on that thin lips of hers.

It was then and there that I immediately fell in love with her. How many women do you know who can come up with an answer such as “you could have sex more often” almost nonchalantly when asked about the benefits of marriage? Not many I presume. Most would probably come up with something along the lines of emotional support, as to display a fair amount of intelligence and reason, and to differentiate themselves from the sex hogs known as men. Nothing wrong with that. Just that it’s boring. Come up with a bold statement like the one Najua gave me and it’ll definitely spice up the conversation.

What came next was probably every man’s nightmare when it comes to dating – stories about the ex. Luckily, I’m getting it after she has passed the ‘I’m over him’ stage. So I got the objective and rationalized of what went wrong instead of all the crying, Kleenex and ‘Why meeheee?’ version.

However, as it weird it sounds, but I actually find myself intrigued by her storytelling. Particularly the part on how much she had contributed towards the relationship despite all the chinks that began to show up during the final stages before the break-up. I could not believe how lucky his ex was to have someone as wonderful as Najua and how foolish of him to lose her. The difference between Najua the girlfriend and Najua the wife is probably the absence of a golden band around her ring finger because she on par in terms of everything else. She practically took care him. From making his favorite meals to doing his laundry, on top of all the stuff girlfriends usually do (ie being beautiful and loyal. Oh, not to mention providing emotional support). I’m particularly impressed by the fact that once she even made truffles for her ex. Truffles, man. I’m not even sure if my mother could make truffles. And she even regularly made cheesecakes for him too. I mean, demmit, if I have a girl that would make sinful desserts for me just to cheer me up, then, hell, I would be more than glad to take her out shopping and pay for her shoes. But then again, that’s me. Watai, on the other hand, has a whole different perspective on it. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. But since when do I ever give serious thought about Watai’s opinions, anyway?

Fast forward to present and I’m stuck in this whole Najua business. For starters it’s the fasting month and, oh Selamat Menyambut Bulan Ramadhan, by the way, and there goes my modus operandi of asking her out for little evening drinks. Watai said my tactics of conniving dates around association with food is getting lame. True, yes, but it’s also the most effective.
“Kalau camtu, bile nak pargon nye, Badok?”
See? I told you I can never take Watai seriously.

I could ask her out for a buka puasa session. As a matter of fact I am planning this huge buka puasa get together of 12 people taking place at JW Marriot this weekend, consisting of Jes, Sasa, Aritha, Zalina, Apau and Acai among others. The thought of asking Najua to join the party has crossed my mind. At first, I thought, maybe since Ity has moved to Shah Alam, I could invite her (Ity). And by inviting her, she would also be inviting her hostess for the time being, that is, Marina aka Sandra Oh. Sandra, in turn, would invite Najua and then I could act all surprised and be extremely jolly about the whole affair when they all arrived in scantily clad dresses. Sadly though, Ity could not make it because she already promised to be with her boyfriend (boo~). Funny, isn’t it? I never knew or met Ity’s boyfriend and yet he has become a deciding factor in one of my elaborate scheme of things. Oh well, guess I have to ask her straight up then. But wait, by doing that I’d be taking a significant risk. The big question is, would she enjoy herself there? I mean, sure she knows some of the people but the instances when she actually had spent time with the rest of the gang is few and far between. She’s not as close as the rest of us are with each other. That could be a stumbling block. And by inviting her personally I’d be undertaking the responsibility of making sure she’s having none of that awkwardness and make her feel as comfortable as possible. Not to mention making sure that she enjoys herself as well. And I certainly have no time for such crappy nonsense. The last thing I want to come between me and a 5 star hotel buffet is undue stress. So? Another time, another place maybe. Warranted she doesn’t invite Paul along. It’s not as if he’s fasting, anyway.

Also, I have taken into consideration some of the requests made by a few readers in putting up a picture of Najua on this blog and finally make you guys see how we are MFEO (made for each other) (Gaby Hoffmann, Sleepless in Seattle). So you guys better pray for me in getting that third date.

All’s well that ends well, I suppose. On a parting note I’d like to make some discerning comments. The people I mention in this blog are true in existent, including the relations I have with them. I wish I couldn’t say the same about Paul but, yes, he too does exist. And no, Ridhu, I don’t exaggerate the facts. I just dramatize them. Ever heard of the term truth is stranger than fiction? I could be one of your prime examples.

It’s time for me to leave, people. I need to get to Pasar Ramadhan (Param) at Lorong Raja Muda and check out all the adorable young nurses from HKL dressed in their white uniforms and white canvas shoes like the ones primary school children wear.

We’ll talk about other women at a later date. Till then, people. Webek! Webek!

Miami Vice

I could not believe how disappointed I am with Miami Vice. Somehow, Colin Farrell with blonde hair just doesn’t work. I get that Alexander The Gay vibe all over again. It’s so sad because I think he is a decent talent (Phone Booth, The Recruit). Just not with gold locks. As for the movie itself, it fell short of my expectations. I was expecting a gripping, non-stop action epic. Instead I get a patchy storyline, intermittent pace and an extremely cheesy love story as a side show. The only highlight I could think of is the F430 at the beginning of the movie and Gong Li’s butt. Even for the villains, I’d put Scar from Lion King as more terrifying than the ones in Miami Vice. Vice? Certainly doesn’t do justice to its title there, does it? But it does have a nice soundtrack. Actually, I’d recommend you to buy the soundtrack rather than the DVD of the movie when it gets released. And the mood is way too serious. You can be serious but you have to have a compelling dialogue to go with it as well, which sadly, this movie hadn’t had either. So, in the end, you don’t feel the drama. You want to, but you don’t. It doesn’t have that Bad Boys feel to it.

So, if any of you guys want to go through the trouble of catching this at the cinema, a word of advice, don’t expect too much. Wanna a cop movie? You’d have much more fun watching Rush Hour.

PS2

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s back! My PS2 is back! Well, it’s not really my PS2. It belongs to my brother. Mine will cost RM350 to get it fixed so fuggeddabout it (James Caan, Mickey Blue Eyes). He bought his during his time in Zurich. Purchased locally and brought there, of course. But ever since he got back, he left it, along with all his other Swiss stuff at my mother’s other house at Putrajaya. Multiple attempts had been made by me to my father (the only person who knows how to get there) to retrieve it but my approaches were continually delayed.

Alas, when the TV upstairs finally blew its tube, it was definitely time to pick up my brother’s TV at the Putrajaya house to replace it (and along with it, the prized PS2). It was either that or they have to contend with having me watching every football related show downstairs. As a Hallmark devotee, my mother found this very annoying.

So, last weekend my father and brother went to Putrajaya to finally bring back the almost forgotten treasures. When I came back from class that evening, I was delighted with glee. Finally my love for Winning Eleven on the PS2 was reunited once again. It wasn’t long before I got my hands on WE10.The glory days are back. Now I will definitely have no time to study.