Sometimes, I think, I have no drive anymore, you know.
I used to be fueled by so many things - anger, hatred, a desire to seek approval, a desire to right the wrongs, to save people.
Nowadays, I just don't feel anything anymore. I'm not numb or anything, I just don't get as dramatic as before.
I enjoy more things, and I give myself more time to observe them. To savour them.
I still feel a strong desire to kill all idiots, but with the realisation that idiots will kill themselves as well as each other, I really don't give a shit anymore.
I used to get really pissed off by people who try to manipulate or control me. Nowadays, I just find them extremely annoying, and I stay away from them.
I don't try to destroy them anymore, because I know no one - absolutely no one - can make me do anything I do not want.
What is there left for them to threaten me with? There's nothing, really.
Sometimes, I look around me, and I'm wondering, "When is the attack?" and then I realise that that was a world away.
Sometimes, I honestly feel like I'm back from the Gulf War or something. Like I'm back from 'Nam. Shell-shocked and paranoid.
The days when I was fueled by hatred and a sense of being the victim, life was much, much simpler. I wore blinders, was not concerned with anything around me, just forward and kill, kill, kill.
Somewhere along the way, I realised that if I continued down that path, it would only lead to more suffering and pain. Pain is a fuel, a drug, and you don't want to have that in your tank. A fast burn, a jolt, and that's it.
I realised that I will find whatever it is I'm looking for, and that has given me peace - and that is what I'm looking for.
I don't know how yet, but I will try to get this message out to you.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
In a Nutshell
Kids nowadays, they get told to do what they love, which is a very good advice. If you're not happy anywhere, doing anything, with anyone, you can leave. You don't have to stay anywhere forever, said Delirium of the Endless.
The problem is, for many young people, is that they're not sure what they want. Or maybe it's just me, when I was younger.
I was a chronic approval-seeker, as a child. And I still deal with that every morning, when I wake up.
I never had any problems with attention. Everywhere I go, I always needed to avoid attention to get some privacy, and I do value my privacy. I was the last child, so I had no issues with getting attention.
Nope.
In fact, I may be boasting, but fame is something I seek to avoid.
SO not attention, not fame, and I have made it so that I do not seek approval like a drug.
Several years ago, it was about being right. I needed to be right. There was no way I could be wrong. No fucking way!
It became an obsession, until I realised that right and wrong are just two sides of the same coin.
So, not that either.
After all those years, I believe that there is only one thing worth anything in this world and that is freedom.
Freedom can come in strange forms, but I know exactly what I want, when I want it, how, and whatever. I also know what I don't want.
Life is way too short to take bullshit. We die too quickly not to live in full awareness.
For younger people, I guess they have to understand and realise it on their own. There is no other way.
And for older people, they would also, sooner or later, have to grow up.
The problem is, for many young people, is that they're not sure what they want. Or maybe it's just me, when I was younger.
I was a chronic approval-seeker, as a child. And I still deal with that every morning, when I wake up.
I never had any problems with attention. Everywhere I go, I always needed to avoid attention to get some privacy, and I do value my privacy. I was the last child, so I had no issues with getting attention.
Nope.
In fact, I may be boasting, but fame is something I seek to avoid.
SO not attention, not fame, and I have made it so that I do not seek approval like a drug.
Several years ago, it was about being right. I needed to be right. There was no way I could be wrong. No fucking way!
It became an obsession, until I realised that right and wrong are just two sides of the same coin.
So, not that either.
After all those years, I believe that there is only one thing worth anything in this world and that is freedom.
Freedom can come in strange forms, but I know exactly what I want, when I want it, how, and whatever. I also know what I don't want.
Life is way too short to take bullshit. We die too quickly not to live in full awareness.
For younger people, I guess they have to understand and realise it on their own. There is no other way.
And for older people, they would also, sooner or later, have to grow up.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Biarkannn! Biarkannn!
Ada sesetengah benda, aku memang tak boleh nak cakap. Cakap karang, makan diri la pulak. Orang tuduh aku macam-macam, lepas tu buat benda macam-macam kat aku pulak.
Aku ni, mulut besar. Kalau burger Chili's tu, berapa kali ngap je. Aku selalu bagi nasihat kat orang, tapi takde sapa pernah dengar pun.
Lepas tu, satu, satu, pergi mampus. Sampai aku dah tak larat nak duduk tepi, cakap, "Aku dah cakap!" Aku dah bosan, bro.
Sampai aku sekali jadi bengang kang. Bukan hal aku. Hal orang lain. Pergilah mampus, ye tak? Apasal aku nak kisah?
Aku geram. Tapi aku dah ambik masa bertahun-tahun, untuk deal dengan kegeraman aku. Aku menuai kesabaran yang aku semai sejak bertahun dulu.
AKu pun bersepah kerja yang aku tak siap lagi.
Jadi, hari ini, aku bertekad, hal orang lain, korang pergilah mampus. Aku taknak deal. Okay? Yang boleh aku tolong, aku tolong, tapi aku bukan Tuhan, mahupun ahli politik. AKu pun berhempas-pulas dalam dunia aku sendiri.
AKu akhiri dengan lagu Kekumbang:
Bila aku dapati aku dalam kesusahan,
Makcik Mary muncul depan aku,
bagi kata-kata hikmat
Biarkannn
Dan dalam waktu kegelapan aku,
dia berdiri tegak di depan aku
bagi kata-kata hikmat
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
bagi kata-kata hikmat
Biarkannn
Dan bila mereka yang patah hati, dalam dunia ini, bermuafakat dalam bulatan
Akan ada jawapan
Biarkann
Barkannn
Dan walau mereka berpisah, masih ada peluang mereka akan saksikan
Akan ada jawapan
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Biarkannn...
Bila malam mendung berawan, masih ada cahaya yang menyinarkan
Bersinarlah sampai esok, biarkannn
Aku bangun terdengar lagu, Makcik Mary dendangkan
Beri kata-kata hikmat
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Aku ni, mulut besar. Kalau burger Chili's tu, berapa kali ngap je. Aku selalu bagi nasihat kat orang, tapi takde sapa pernah dengar pun.
Lepas tu, satu, satu, pergi mampus. Sampai aku dah tak larat nak duduk tepi, cakap, "Aku dah cakap!" Aku dah bosan, bro.
Sampai aku sekali jadi bengang kang. Bukan hal aku. Hal orang lain. Pergilah mampus, ye tak? Apasal aku nak kisah?
Aku geram. Tapi aku dah ambik masa bertahun-tahun, untuk deal dengan kegeraman aku. Aku menuai kesabaran yang aku semai sejak bertahun dulu.
AKu pun bersepah kerja yang aku tak siap lagi.
Jadi, hari ini, aku bertekad, hal orang lain, korang pergilah mampus. Aku taknak deal. Okay? Yang boleh aku tolong, aku tolong, tapi aku bukan Tuhan, mahupun ahli politik. AKu pun berhempas-pulas dalam dunia aku sendiri.
AKu akhiri dengan lagu Kekumbang:
Bila aku dapati aku dalam kesusahan,
Makcik Mary muncul depan aku,
bagi kata-kata hikmat
Biarkannn
Dan dalam waktu kegelapan aku,
dia berdiri tegak di depan aku
bagi kata-kata hikmat
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
bagi kata-kata hikmat
Biarkannn
Dan bila mereka yang patah hati, dalam dunia ini, bermuafakat dalam bulatan
Akan ada jawapan
Biarkann
Barkannn
Dan walau mereka berpisah, masih ada peluang mereka akan saksikan
Akan ada jawapan
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Biarkannn...
Bila malam mendung berawan, masih ada cahaya yang menyinarkan
Bersinarlah sampai esok, biarkannn
Aku bangun terdengar lagu, Makcik Mary dendangkan
Beri kata-kata hikmat
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Biarkannn
Melayu Mudah Miskin
Pergi mampus sama politik dan polemik. Hisaplah lubang jubur aku beramai-ramai.
Aku nak cakap pasal orang Melayu yang suka melalak pasal martabat bangsa la, maruah la, apalancau la, tapi lepas tu membangkrapkan diri sendiri dengan belanja tak tentu hala.
Ko tau kenapa milikan ekuiti Melayu KURANG daripada 15% kat Malaysia ni? Bukan pasal bangsa lain, ya, tolong sikit. Ini semua pasal orang Melayu, ada duit, beli sport rim. Taruk turbo kat kereta Kancil. Kahwin mengalahkan Sultan Brunei, semua main buat pinjaman peribadi. Melayu main skim piramid, kena tipu, pastu menangis, melolong, salahkan kerajaan.
Ahli politik isap darah dan isap bulu pantat dah satu hal, tapi aku nak cakap pasal orang Melayu suka buat benda bodoh sampai tak berduit.
1. Kera di hutan pakai sport rim, anak di buaian pergi mampus
Bai, aku tau la anak tu 'anugerah Tuhan', tapi anak ko, bukanlah skim insurans di masa tua. Anak ko tu, tanggungjawab. Maknanya, kalau nak didefinisikan secara jelas, kau bertanggungjawab bagi makan, pakai, dan persekolahan pada dia, sampai sekurang-kurangnya umur 18 tahun.
Masa umur 18 tahun, aku rasa kau wajib bagi dia pilihan untuk pergi universiti. Kalau tak pun, sekolah vokasional ke, apa ke.
Ko beranak ramai-ramai ni, mampu ke nak bayar yuran?
Ko tau tak yuran universiti tu berapa? Ko jangan harap PTPTN yang kau sendiri lambat nak bayar tu. Muahahaha.
Masuk universiti, yuran SAHAJA, dah lebih kurang RM21,000 SEKARANG. Hari ini. Kalau ko beranak sekarang, berapa yurannya, 18 tahun lagi? AKu bajet, dalam 200,000 DENGAN subsidi kerajaan. Kalau takde, maka kosnya boleh meningkat sampai setengah juta.
Nak belajar luar negeri? Bolehhhh. Ko ada RM3 juta?
Kalau takde duit, toksah beranak ramai-ramai. Menyusahkan orang, tau tak?
2. Mencurah duit, mempamer gigi
Mat, aku tau, aku faham, suka hati nenek ko lah, ko nak pakai spek itam dalam shopping mall. Tapi, apahal? Lawa sangat ke ko ni? Boleh jadi model?
ANak ko terbalik terpukang kat rumah, kau habis stailo nak mampus la, usha awek kat Midvalley?
Kereta ko, huish! Sport rimmmm! Rim 17" tu, beb! Kereta apa? Myvi/Kancil/Viva je, tapi berlagak macam stretch Hummer limo.
Kalau bangsa Melayu ni tak habiskan duit beli sport rim dengan benda-benda bodoh yang lain, aku rasa banyak benda boleh buat. Macam berniaga ke, invest ke, apa ke.
3. Masalah peribadi
Ini, adalah musuh aku sejak dulu. Pinjaman peribadi dengan kadar faedah jenis sewa-beli (macam beli kereta, pokok dia tak kurang-kurang, sampai la ko bayar abis) adalah antara benda paling popular di kalangan orang Melayu, dan antara jenis pinjaman paling Syaitonnnn sekali. Lebih keji dan kejam daripada apa yang lain.
Ko pinjam RM30,000, kena faedah 10%, selama 10 tahun. Ko tau tak berapa ko kena bayar? RM60,000, dalam masa 10 tahun. Gila double tu, siut! Ko bangang ke apa, nak bayar banyak tu?
Pokok ko, RM30K, tak berubah tau. Untuk 5 tahun pertama, ko bayar faedah SAHAJA.
4. Kad kredit
Ni satu lagi. AKu pun dah kena dulu. Gila, mat, 18% interest tu! Sekali ko lambat bayar, satu mata ditolak. Ko tau tak, kalau ko bayar awal pun, dia ada caj?
Ko nak berbelanja lebih-lebih buat apa? Ko perlu ke, barang-barang tu? Ko nak berlagak kat sapa? Ramai cakap aku sombong, angkuh dan bongkak. Habis, berlagak tu apa?
5. Kereta melampaui batasan manusia
Ko kalau takde duit, tak payah la beli kereta besar-besar. Ko nak tunjuk kat sapa, bro? Kalau pergi sembahyang Jumaat pakai Toyota Camry, dapat pahala lebih ke? Pasal tu ke BEKAS MB Perak mati-mati taknak lepas Toyota Camry dia? Belum Lexus lagi, beb.
Aku... yalah, bukan duit aku. Bukan tempat aku untuk bersyarah suruh kau beli apa, itu ini. Duit ko. Lantak ko lah nak berbelanja camana pun.
AKu cuma memesan. Mengingatkan ko dan jugak diri aku sendiri. Aku takleh cakap apa-apa hal agama, pasal aku orang biasa je. Takde super power boleh terbang atau menyumpah orang. Aku takleh tembak laser ikut lubang jubur aku.
Beringat-ingatlah semasa berbelanja. Pinjam-meminjam ni, banyak risikonya. Macam beromen tak pakai kondom. Silap haribulan, ko mampus! Hargailah rezeki yang ko dapat. Kalau tak tahu, tanya. Jangan jadi bodoh sombong. Dahlah bodoh, sombong nak mampus. Matilah kau kena hempap dek jubur taik orang lain.
Aku nak cakap pasal orang Melayu yang suka melalak pasal martabat bangsa la, maruah la, apalancau la, tapi lepas tu membangkrapkan diri sendiri dengan belanja tak tentu hala.
Ko tau kenapa milikan ekuiti Melayu KURANG daripada 15% kat Malaysia ni? Bukan pasal bangsa lain, ya, tolong sikit. Ini semua pasal orang Melayu, ada duit, beli sport rim. Taruk turbo kat kereta Kancil. Kahwin mengalahkan Sultan Brunei, semua main buat pinjaman peribadi. Melayu main skim piramid, kena tipu, pastu menangis, melolong, salahkan kerajaan.
Ahli politik isap darah dan isap bulu pantat dah satu hal, tapi aku nak cakap pasal orang Melayu suka buat benda bodoh sampai tak berduit.
1. Kera di hutan pakai sport rim, anak di buaian pergi mampus
Bai, aku tau la anak tu 'anugerah Tuhan', tapi anak ko, bukanlah skim insurans di masa tua. Anak ko tu, tanggungjawab. Maknanya, kalau nak didefinisikan secara jelas, kau bertanggungjawab bagi makan, pakai, dan persekolahan pada dia, sampai sekurang-kurangnya umur 18 tahun.
Masa umur 18 tahun, aku rasa kau wajib bagi dia pilihan untuk pergi universiti. Kalau tak pun, sekolah vokasional ke, apa ke.
Ko beranak ramai-ramai ni, mampu ke nak bayar yuran?
Ko tau tak yuran universiti tu berapa? Ko jangan harap PTPTN yang kau sendiri lambat nak bayar tu. Muahahaha.
Masuk universiti, yuran SAHAJA, dah lebih kurang RM21,000 SEKARANG. Hari ini. Kalau ko beranak sekarang, berapa yurannya, 18 tahun lagi? AKu bajet, dalam 200,000 DENGAN subsidi kerajaan. Kalau takde, maka kosnya boleh meningkat sampai setengah juta.
Nak belajar luar negeri? Bolehhhh. Ko ada RM3 juta?
Kalau takde duit, toksah beranak ramai-ramai. Menyusahkan orang, tau tak?
2. Mencurah duit, mempamer gigi
Mat, aku tau, aku faham, suka hati nenek ko lah, ko nak pakai spek itam dalam shopping mall. Tapi, apahal? Lawa sangat ke ko ni? Boleh jadi model?
ANak ko terbalik terpukang kat rumah, kau habis stailo nak mampus la, usha awek kat Midvalley?
Kereta ko, huish! Sport rimmmm! Rim 17" tu, beb! Kereta apa? Myvi/Kancil/Viva je, tapi berlagak macam stretch Hummer limo.
Kalau bangsa Melayu ni tak habiskan duit beli sport rim dengan benda-benda bodoh yang lain, aku rasa banyak benda boleh buat. Macam berniaga ke, invest ke, apa ke.
3. Masalah peribadi
Ini, adalah musuh aku sejak dulu. Pinjaman peribadi dengan kadar faedah jenis sewa-beli (macam beli kereta, pokok dia tak kurang-kurang, sampai la ko bayar abis) adalah antara benda paling popular di kalangan orang Melayu, dan antara jenis pinjaman paling Syaitonnnn sekali. Lebih keji dan kejam daripada apa yang lain.
Ko pinjam RM30,000, kena faedah 10%, selama 10 tahun. Ko tau tak berapa ko kena bayar? RM60,000, dalam masa 10 tahun. Gila double tu, siut! Ko bangang ke apa, nak bayar banyak tu?
Pokok ko, RM30K, tak berubah tau. Untuk 5 tahun pertama, ko bayar faedah SAHAJA.
4. Kad kredit
Ni satu lagi. AKu pun dah kena dulu. Gila, mat, 18% interest tu! Sekali ko lambat bayar, satu mata ditolak. Ko tau tak, kalau ko bayar awal pun, dia ada caj?
Ko nak berbelanja lebih-lebih buat apa? Ko perlu ke, barang-barang tu? Ko nak berlagak kat sapa? Ramai cakap aku sombong, angkuh dan bongkak. Habis, berlagak tu apa?
5. Kereta melampaui batasan manusia
Ko kalau takde duit, tak payah la beli kereta besar-besar. Ko nak tunjuk kat sapa, bro? Kalau pergi sembahyang Jumaat pakai Toyota Camry, dapat pahala lebih ke? Pasal tu ke BEKAS MB Perak mati-mati taknak lepas Toyota Camry dia? Belum Lexus lagi, beb.
Aku... yalah, bukan duit aku. Bukan tempat aku untuk bersyarah suruh kau beli apa, itu ini. Duit ko. Lantak ko lah nak berbelanja camana pun.
AKu cuma memesan. Mengingatkan ko dan jugak diri aku sendiri. Aku takleh cakap apa-apa hal agama, pasal aku orang biasa je. Takde super power boleh terbang atau menyumpah orang. Aku takleh tembak laser ikut lubang jubur aku.
Beringat-ingatlah semasa berbelanja. Pinjam-meminjam ni, banyak risikonya. Macam beromen tak pakai kondom. Silap haribulan, ko mampus! Hargailah rezeki yang ko dapat. Kalau tak tahu, tanya. Jangan jadi bodoh sombong. Dahlah bodoh, sombong nak mampus. Matilah kau kena hempap dek jubur taik orang lain.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Erections! Hooooo!
I will vote for whichever asshole gives me the most money.
Here's a counter:
BN: Not a single fucking cent.
PR: Not a single fucking cent.
Others: Nada.
So fuck you too, bitch, call the cops!
Here's a counter:
BN: Not a single fucking cent.
PR: Not a single fucking cent.
Others: Nada.
So fuck you too, bitch, call the cops!
Curb Your Fucking Enthusiasm
Relax. Chill.
Work is not finished until you die. Fight's not over till you're lying, bleeding on the ground, you fucking assholes.
Work is not finished until you die. Fight's not over till you're lying, bleeding on the ground, you fucking assholes.
Words We Cannot Say
I can't talk about Islam, cause the Islams might come for me and throw me in Pusat Pemulihan Akhlak or some shit.
I can't talk bad about Government politicians or even Opposition politicians. Some asshole would always get offended and send me emails at four o'clock in the morning.
I mean, I can't talk about how stupid and pretentious, greedy and stupid ALL politicians are.
Yeah, I can't talk about Rosmah's team doing a stupid job at PR. Real classy, you fucking assholes! Enjoy your salary this month (and every other month) - it's free.
I can't talk about how Anwar is an asshole and most probably, loves assholes. Fuck you Anwar, you fucking asshole! <- I can't say that, see?
I can't say how much I think Lim Guan Eng is a conniving, racist bastard. And so is Ibrahim Ali. I can't say that, man.
I can't say how much I think Nurul Izzah AND Marina Mahathir are both populists. I don't hate them for it, nor do I think they are stupid, but they are populists, and I am an UNpopulist, amongst other things.
I can't say how much respect I have lost for Karpal Singh, the Tiger of whatever, for saying and doing jack shit about shit. Transform and roll out, motherfucker!
I can't say how much I believe Lim Kit Siang is a worthless piece of scum. Wait, is he dead yet? If he's dead, then, like the CEO of BP, I'd like to say, I'm sorry. And like LeBron James, I'd like to say what can I do? Yeah, what can I do, for thinking Lim Kit Siang is an opportunist, lying, hypocritical bastard?
I can never, and will never say that I think Mat Sabu is a pimp motherfucker!
"Bulu Mah lekat kat kerongkong abang." <- shit, man, I can never quote Mat Sabu saying that.
Mat Sabu the Moralista! Pimp Masta! Ethical Gangsta!
I can't say any of this shit.
So fuck you too, bitch, call the cops!
I can't talk bad about Government politicians or even Opposition politicians. Some asshole would always get offended and send me emails at four o'clock in the morning.
I mean, I can't talk about how stupid and pretentious, greedy and stupid ALL politicians are.
Yeah, I can't talk about Rosmah's team doing a stupid job at PR. Real classy, you fucking assholes! Enjoy your salary this month (and every other month) - it's free.
I can't talk about how Anwar is an asshole and most probably, loves assholes. Fuck you Anwar, you fucking asshole! <- I can't say that, see?
I can't say how much I think Lim Guan Eng is a conniving, racist bastard. And so is Ibrahim Ali. I can't say that, man.
I can't say how much I think Nurul Izzah AND Marina Mahathir are both populists. I don't hate them for it, nor do I think they are stupid, but they are populists, and I am an UNpopulist, amongst other things.
I can't say how much respect I have lost for Karpal Singh, the Tiger of whatever, for saying and doing jack shit about shit. Transform and roll out, motherfucker!
I can't say how much I believe Lim Kit Siang is a worthless piece of scum. Wait, is he dead yet? If he's dead, then, like the CEO of BP, I'd like to say, I'm sorry. And like LeBron James, I'd like to say what can I do? Yeah, what can I do, for thinking Lim Kit Siang is an opportunist, lying, hypocritical bastard?
I can never, and will never say that I think Mat Sabu is a pimp motherfucker!
"Bulu Mah lekat kat kerongkong abang." <- shit, man, I can never quote Mat Sabu saying that.
Mat Sabu the Moralista! Pimp Masta! Ethical Gangsta!
I can't say any of this shit.
So fuck you too, bitch, call the cops!
The Pit and the Pendulum
Someone once told me that the world swings like a pendulum, and that everything repeats itself - much like the cycles in Hinduism.
I always see everything as a giant big hole, in the sense that after its time, throw it in the garbage bin.
As I grow older, it has always surprised me when people revisit certain themes.
"I thought that was in the hole already?"
Puns, cliches, tired bullshit, you give them to people who have never seen them, and it is something new to them.
So, sometimes, instead of going beyond the box, just take out your old box, rummage through some garbage, and pass it on?
I... am not comfortable with that. Maybe leave it for others to rediscover? I dunno. There are many more things left for me to go through. I can't be bogged down by the past.
Cheers!
I always see everything as a giant big hole, in the sense that after its time, throw it in the garbage bin.
As I grow older, it has always surprised me when people revisit certain themes.
"I thought that was in the hole already?"
Puns, cliches, tired bullshit, you give them to people who have never seen them, and it is something new to them.
So, sometimes, instead of going beyond the box, just take out your old box, rummage through some garbage, and pass it on?
I... am not comfortable with that. Maybe leave it for others to rediscover? I dunno. There are many more things left for me to go through. I can't be bogged down by the past.
Cheers!
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Kapten Siamang Dan Berukera Dari Planet Zargus
Malaysians are cynical. An extremely sarcastic people.
And yet we subscribe to black magic and sorcery. We follow dumbasses into war, or worse - economic recession.
We believe that politicians actually stand for something. That MLMs are good. And yet we are doubters.
"Malaysians are a paradox," said a friend, a long time ago.
You see, I am not comfortable with asking the 'who' questions. I ask what and how and why. Who, to me, as a question, is too presumptuous and arrogant. When is too depressing.
Classic psychology divides humans into four distinct archetypes - sanguine, melancholic, choleric and phlegmatic. Each has its own question.
I find that people who constantly ask 'who' - sanguines - to be ineffective. They rely on people, personalities, personal brands - and those can never be constants.
Sanguines act as if they're the best class, but they are the weakest. Flimsy, artificial and used mainly as window dressing. They are shiny baubles on a Christmas tree.
People who ask 'why' (phlegmatic) a lot are too whiny.
"Why did this happen to me? Nyeeehee!"
With 'what' and 'how' people, there is much power. Why the hell am I writing a psychology piece at this hour?
Ah, yes, I need to bore myself before I go to sleep. Cheers!
And yet we subscribe to black magic and sorcery. We follow dumbasses into war, or worse - economic recession.
We believe that politicians actually stand for something. That MLMs are good. And yet we are doubters.
"Malaysians are a paradox," said a friend, a long time ago.
You see, I am not comfortable with asking the 'who' questions. I ask what and how and why. Who, to me, as a question, is too presumptuous and arrogant. When is too depressing.
Classic psychology divides humans into four distinct archetypes - sanguine, melancholic, choleric and phlegmatic. Each has its own question.
I find that people who constantly ask 'who' - sanguines - to be ineffective. They rely on people, personalities, personal brands - and those can never be constants.
Sanguines act as if they're the best class, but they are the weakest. Flimsy, artificial and used mainly as window dressing. They are shiny baubles on a Christmas tree.
People who ask 'why' (phlegmatic) a lot are too whiny.
"Why did this happen to me? Nyeeehee!"
With 'what' and 'how' people, there is much power. Why the hell am I writing a psychology piece at this hour?
Ah, yes, I need to bore myself before I go to sleep. Cheers!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
General Erection
Speculation is rife that the Malaysian General Election will be soon. Before December, they say.
Fuck this bullshit, man.
On the day of the election, I'm going home to Kuantan. I have a machete at my apartment, just in case race riots happen and I need me a new 42 inch TV, but in Kuantan, I got more weapons.
My father just bought two more meat cleavers that can cut through bone. Wrought-iron shit.
And I got a fucking spear! In my bedroom.
If you want my spear, you can come and take it away from me. Fuck the keris, man. My javelin-class spear can kill you before you even draw your melee weapon at me.
That's a +12 stabbing damage right there. And if I can gain access to some illegal Lannate - type-1 pesticides, it would have a +5000 poison damage.
Lannate is so potent, we poison wild boars with it. When the wild boar dies, sometimes ducks come and spoon for worms on the spot where it died. Those ducks? Gone. Dead. Flies would come and buzz around the dead ducks. Flies dead. Ants come to eat the flies. Ants dead.
That's how poisonous Lannate is. And village people, they always have Lannate lying around. None of that bullshit Paraquat or Gramoxxone. Fuck that shit. Lannate is the poison to kill.
I don't give a shit who wins or loses, but if you come to my house on Election Day with a weapon, I'm giving you a spear to the face. DO NOT fucking taunt Happy Fun Ball.
Fuck this bullshit, man.
On the day of the election, I'm going home to Kuantan. I have a machete at my apartment, just in case race riots happen and I need me a new 42 inch TV, but in Kuantan, I got more weapons.
My father just bought two more meat cleavers that can cut through bone. Wrought-iron shit.
And I got a fucking spear! In my bedroom.
If you want my spear, you can come and take it away from me. Fuck the keris, man. My javelin-class spear can kill you before you even draw your melee weapon at me.
That's a +12 stabbing damage right there. And if I can gain access to some illegal Lannate - type-1 pesticides, it would have a +5000 poison damage.
Lannate is so potent, we poison wild boars with it. When the wild boar dies, sometimes ducks come and spoon for worms on the spot where it died. Those ducks? Gone. Dead. Flies would come and buzz around the dead ducks. Flies dead. Ants come to eat the flies. Ants dead.
That's how poisonous Lannate is. And village people, they always have Lannate lying around. None of that bullshit Paraquat or Gramoxxone. Fuck that shit. Lannate is the poison to kill.
I don't give a shit who wins or loses, but if you come to my house on Election Day with a weapon, I'm giving you a spear to the face. DO NOT fucking taunt Happy Fun Ball.
Don't Try This at Home
I was having dinner, when this irrational fear gripped me. It was a sudden hit. Most days, I see it, tip my proverbial hat, and walk on.
I'm not sure if I can explain it right. My business, it's a lot like wrestling. It's also a lot like mountain climbing.
You climb, each year is a notch or a hold on the rock. You lower some rope sometimes, cause there are times when the only way you can get up is if you can grab onto a rope. And you always, always pay it forward.
Sometimes, you take a breather, or your head just angles itself down, and you realise how far you've gone. This is when all those things come out.
Writing's a lot like wrestling. Professional wrestling, not 'real' wrestling.
In this business, entertainment/lifestyle writing, in scriptwriting, book-writing, you do shit, right? You write shit up, and sometimes they love you for it, and sometimes they hate you. For the exact same shit.
They call me 'not a real journalist' cause I don't do crime or report on serious shit.
Some people call my work in the field of entertainment bad-ass. Some, just bad. Others, ass.
I made my peace with that a long time ago. Good or bad, it's not my place to convince them otherwise. Only those who have dared to walk in these here shoes would understand what it's all about. Like I don't know what the fuck is in everyone else's heads and shit.
The voices, the praises and condemnations, those things won't matter, if you give them enough time.
And hell, yeah, I reported on court cases as well. I followed a Prime Minister, briefly. I did my share of crime and business. Tried magazines for a while. I tried TV.
I haven't gone to a war-torn country with a bullet on my back. I don't want to. Hats off to those who did. I know two. If the company offered or ordered me to, I'd go. Not because I'm brave, but because I'm curious, that's all.
So it wasn't that. It wasn't the fact that I got two movies coming out and working on two more. Two, maybe three books with deadlines looming. Nope.
Not my current job.
So what got me so fucking emo? It's a pattern. Every time my life goes smooth sailing, I always get scared. Cause my normal approach is to hit at something until it stops moving. Nowadays, it is way more complicated than that.
Sometimes, growing up means you deal with more and more complex shit.
My girlfriend offered help, and attention, but I just wanted to be alone. I deal with my own demons. Thankfully, most of my demons are made up. I am my own worst enemy.
So I got myself writing. I'm not saying what, cause if I say it, I'll lose interest.
I got myself writing, and I am a vagabond again. I walk the earth again. And in this, I will never change.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Barbarian of the East
I twitched, inside - I guess my aorta, thymus and medula oblongata would spasm a bit - every time some condescending, pedantic motherfucker would try to enlighten me how good the ways of the West are.
"In the States, we can watch. Shows. From. The Computer. Thingy. On. The. TV."
"Yes?"
What the person really meant to say was, "Hey, you fucking ass-turd monkey-fucker! I have been to a white man's country and shit, and I'm better than you, you fucking loser!"
And what I really meant to say was, "Big fucking deal, you fucking asshole! Why don't you take your stupid AppleTV or WD TV Mini or Seagate whatever and rape your grandmother's corpse with it."
I'm not saying that the States, or any Western country sucks. Or that white people are racists. Well, the US sucks in terms of healthcare that could have you sucking all the nurses' dicks if you need a band-aid, but I guess their burgers make up for it.
No.
It's just the blatant racism - albeit perhaps unintentional - that these Asian white supremacists (how's that for a paradox) put on a jolly old Asian chap like me. A regular Charlie Chan, I am.
I've never left South East Asia, so I have been assumed, over the years, as not knowing that:
1. Saying 'having it here' at McDonald's meant I am having the food there and 'take away' meant tapau.
Yes, someone carefully explained this to me, when I was 27 years of age, at a McDonald's restaurant. The person's eyes were perhaps expecting me - Captain Simian of the Spaced-Out Monkeys - to be amazed at this amazing nugget of information that would shed light on the glorious Western culture of death by fast food.
2. PC meant 'politically correct'. Oh, really? I thought it meant Puki Cibai.
"We were PC, you know? Politically Correct. You know PC?"
"Oh, I hate Macs."
"No, no, not PC the computer! PC the politically correct-lah!"
The expression on my face perhaps suggested that I was raped in the ass by Anwar and did not wash my bung hole for 3 days.
It was THIS expression.
3. "In the West, people really love performing arts."
Actually, yes and no. Yes, there are places where theatrical productions can attract boatloads or treefulls of people and make heaps of money, but there is also the same detachment from the general society as it is here.
If you do crappy stuff here, and you take your crappy stuff and do it say, in London, it remains crappy. You might get some mercy, charity, PC applause, but PC applause is like applauding a monkey because it could imitate a human.
If you're good, you're good. You know it, everyone knows it, and you wouldn't be whining and whinging about how nobody appreciates you, because 'nobody' also includes yourself. The absence of yourself as somebody who thinks you're good.
I love Western Culture. I'm writing in English, if you haven't noticed, and I absorb a lot of their shit, before unceremoniously chucking the shit at my fellow Asian monkeys.
I do not think that all white people are racists. In fact, I have met only five racist white people. Most of them in a titty bar in Thailand. I was inspecting the blowjob corner for... termites... and I took too long, angering these rugby players who were queuing up to get a blowjob from a girl and believe a man should ejaculate in 1 minute, 20 seconds.
Nope. The culprit here are retarded ass-fuck monkey-fuckers. People who are so retarded, they judge other people and assume that since they have breathed the air from the north, they can jump higher and run faster.
Maybe they can. But not as fast as Usain Bolt. And he's Jamaican.
I believe that everything has their pros and cons. What works for you is what works for you. One day, I might leave this country, but not because I believe any other country is better. It would be because I believe it would be better for me, and that I would make it so.
"In the States, we can watch. Shows. From. The Computer. Thingy. On. The. TV."
"Yes?"
What the person really meant to say was, "Hey, you fucking ass-turd monkey-fucker! I have been to a white man's country and shit, and I'm better than you, you fucking loser!"
And what I really meant to say was, "Big fucking deal, you fucking asshole! Why don't you take your stupid AppleTV or WD TV Mini or Seagate whatever and rape your grandmother's corpse with it."
I'm not saying that the States, or any Western country sucks. Or that white people are racists. Well, the US sucks in terms of healthcare that could have you sucking all the nurses' dicks if you need a band-aid, but I guess their burgers make up for it.
No.
It's just the blatant racism - albeit perhaps unintentional - that these Asian white supremacists (how's that for a paradox) put on a jolly old Asian chap like me. A regular Charlie Chan, I am.
I've never left South East Asia, so I have been assumed, over the years, as not knowing that:
1. Saying 'having it here' at McDonald's meant I am having the food there and 'take away' meant tapau.
Yes, someone carefully explained this to me, when I was 27 years of age, at a McDonald's restaurant. The person's eyes were perhaps expecting me - Captain Simian of the Spaced-Out Monkeys - to be amazed at this amazing nugget of information that would shed light on the glorious Western culture of death by fast food.
2. PC meant 'politically correct'. Oh, really? I thought it meant Puki Cibai.
"We were PC, you know? Politically Correct. You know PC?"
"Oh, I hate Macs."
"No, no, not PC the computer! PC the politically correct-lah!"
The expression on my face perhaps suggested that I was raped in the ass by Anwar and did not wash my bung hole for 3 days.
It was THIS expression.
3. "In the West, people really love performing arts."
Actually, yes and no. Yes, there are places where theatrical productions can attract boatloads or treefulls of people and make heaps of money, but there is also the same detachment from the general society as it is here.
If you do crappy stuff here, and you take your crappy stuff and do it say, in London, it remains crappy. You might get some mercy, charity, PC applause, but PC applause is like applauding a monkey because it could imitate a human.
If you're good, you're good. You know it, everyone knows it, and you wouldn't be whining and whinging about how nobody appreciates you, because 'nobody' also includes yourself. The absence of yourself as somebody who thinks you're good.
I love Western Culture. I'm writing in English, if you haven't noticed, and I absorb a lot of their shit, before unceremoniously chucking the shit at my fellow Asian monkeys.
I do not think that all white people are racists. In fact, I have met only five racist white people. Most of them in a titty bar in Thailand. I was inspecting the blowjob corner for... termites... and I took too long, angering these rugby players who were queuing up to get a blowjob from a girl and believe a man should ejaculate in 1 minute, 20 seconds.
Nope. The culprit here are retarded ass-fuck monkey-fuckers. People who are so retarded, they judge other people and assume that since they have breathed the air from the north, they can jump higher and run faster.
Maybe they can. But not as fast as Usain Bolt. And he's Jamaican.
I believe that everything has their pros and cons. What works for you is what works for you. One day, I might leave this country, but not because I believe any other country is better. It would be because I believe it would be better for me, and that I would make it so.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Insecurities Commission
Nelly (Cornell Iral Haynes, J, not Furtado) finished performing at the SuaraKami concert here, in good ol' Malaysia, and tweeted something like:
"Thank u malaysia all 30k of yall!amazing wen u do a show n 50% of the crowd can't even speak english but they can sing everyword!WINNING"
And then some people decided that this is:
1. WRONG!
2. Makes Malaysians look bad.
And in the interest of righteous diarrhea to end all righteous diarrheas, decided to try and correct him.
So they thought that correcting him would what? What, motherfucker, what? Make us look like cool motherfuckers? Make us look less of an asshole retard we already are for even taking this shit seriously to warrant a Tweet?
Look, dumbass, Malaysians do look bad. Most of the world don't even know where we are, and if they do, think we're monkeys chucking shit at each other.
Here's my big fucking question: SO?
Who gives a shit? No one gives a flying fuck about Malaysia or Malaysians, unless they can make money off of us. Deal with it.
And our reputation? What reputation? Dr M has a reputation. He helped the Bosnians through NAM and according to Western Media, hates Jews. What have you done to warrant a reputation? Does Maniappan Kuppusamy? Does Lim Ah Beng? Does Kerbau Anak Sungkir? Ahmad Bin Muhammad has a reputation, at a lot of airports. Especially if he doesn't shave.
What this is, is yet another example of Malaysians' insecurities.
We NEED to LOOK good. Fuck actually being good, we just need to LOOK it.
We care about what other people think of us. For what? Motherfucker, for what?
In life, no matter what you do, people will hate you and love you for it. Most, though, don't give a flying fuck. They are only concerned about themselves.
So fucking grow up and grow a pair.
This is also another example of how 'sensitive' Malaysians are. Like this, kenot. Like that, kenot.
Do an ad about Ramadan, KENOT! 'Question' Malay rights, KENOT! Show armpit, KENOT.
I got two warning/mention letters from KDN at two different companies for showing armpits in the media. No, not tits, not ass, fucking dirty, smelly armpits.
SOmebody up there must have a fetish for armpits.
Since the Internet and maybe later newspapers, don't have to have their licenses renewed every year, I am taking this opportunity to publish pictures of armpits. Censor this, asshole!
"Thank u malaysia all 30k of yall!amazing wen u do a show n 50% of the crowd can't even speak english but they can sing everyword!WINNING"
And then some people decided that this is:
1. WRONG!
2. Makes Malaysians look bad.
And in the interest of righteous diarrhea to end all righteous diarrheas, decided to try and correct him.
So they thought that correcting him would what? What, motherfucker, what? Make us look like cool motherfuckers? Make us look less of an asshole retard we already are for even taking this shit seriously to warrant a Tweet?
Look, dumbass, Malaysians do look bad. Most of the world don't even know where we are, and if they do, think we're monkeys chucking shit at each other.
Here's my big fucking question: SO?
Who gives a shit? No one gives a flying fuck about Malaysia or Malaysians, unless they can make money off of us. Deal with it.
And our reputation? What reputation? Dr M has a reputation. He helped the Bosnians through NAM and according to Western Media, hates Jews. What have you done to warrant a reputation? Does Maniappan Kuppusamy? Does Lim Ah Beng? Does Kerbau Anak Sungkir? Ahmad Bin Muhammad has a reputation, at a lot of airports. Especially if he doesn't shave.
What this is, is yet another example of Malaysians' insecurities.
We NEED to LOOK good. Fuck actually being good, we just need to LOOK it.
We care about what other people think of us. For what? Motherfucker, for what?
In life, no matter what you do, people will hate you and love you for it. Most, though, don't give a flying fuck. They are only concerned about themselves.
So fucking grow up and grow a pair.
This is also another example of how 'sensitive' Malaysians are. Like this, kenot. Like that, kenot.
Do an ad about Ramadan, KENOT! 'Question' Malay rights, KENOT! Show armpit, KENOT.
I got two warning/mention letters from KDN at two different companies for showing armpits in the media. No, not tits, not ass, fucking dirty, smelly armpits.
SOmebody up there must have a fetish for armpits.
Since the Internet and maybe later newspapers, don't have to have their licenses renewed every year, I am taking this opportunity to publish pictures of armpits. Censor this, asshole!
Saturday, September 17, 2011
How to Get ISA-ed
Malaysian Top Dude Najib said he will table a motion to destroy the Internal Security Act(ISA) with a hammer or some shit like that. So before that happens, I want to share my own experience with the act.
ISA was a major beef with human and civil rights people because it is similar to the Patriot Act, or Batman: The Dark Night without high-tech gadgets. It allows the authorities to detain people without charging them. Some people were detained for 16 years.
I believe they're lucky. Because if I was the police, and I think you're a dangerous person, I would kill you and make it seem as if monkeys did it.
Anyway, ISA is also a potentially viable career path. You see, if you get ISA-ed, then released say, three years later - enjoying free boarding and food all that time - you can travel the country giving speeches as a REFORMED ex-ISA prisoner. You can potentially charge around RM5,000 for each of those speeches. That's RM5,000 for 20 minutes, which is slightly below the fees for a B-list rock star.
So, between 2006-2007, when I left my first real job, I decided to try and get ISA-ed in order to become a rock star.
I started by making fun of the then-Prime Minister of the country, Abdullah Badawi (Pak Lah).
I wrote such things as implying Pak Lah was licking his son-in-law's anus, that the people around him wore tutus at night and jump on rooftops to fight crime, um, that his wife Jean Danker looked like this:
... as well as an assortment of other things.
I waited for the authorities to bust into my apartment and take me away to the ISA gravy train, but alas, no one came.
I stepped up my online attacks, but still, no ISA.
So I used my clandestine contacts in the military espionage industry (I asked an older journalist) to find out where I went wrong.
Apparently, according to the guy, I would only be ISA-ed for writing stuff if I threaten to reveal sensitive information.
I did not and do not have sensitive information about anyone, any company or any Government, so I was just another guy yelling online. Big fucking deal, and no ISA.
I could have strapped explosives to my ass and threaten to suicide-bomb the capital, but that is just too much work.
Now, with ISA being repealed, I no longer have a potential gravy train, those fucking hippies have one less reason to smoke weed and rape children, and real terrorists will be able to escape easier than before.
I believe this is a bullshit move by the Government, to remove such an easy way to make money. I hope the Opposition do what they do best and complain about everything everyday, including this move by Najib, so we all could have our beloved ISA back.
ISA was a major beef with human and civil rights people because it is similar to the Patriot Act, or Batman: The Dark Night without high-tech gadgets. It allows the authorities to detain people without charging them. Some people were detained for 16 years.
I believe they're lucky. Because if I was the police, and I think you're a dangerous person, I would kill you and make it seem as if monkeys did it.
Anyway, ISA is also a potentially viable career path. You see, if you get ISA-ed, then released say, three years later - enjoying free boarding and food all that time - you can travel the country giving speeches as a REFORMED ex-ISA prisoner. You can potentially charge around RM5,000 for each of those speeches. That's RM5,000 for 20 minutes, which is slightly below the fees for a B-list rock star.
So, between 2006-2007, when I left my first real job, I decided to try and get ISA-ed in order to become a rock star.
I started by making fun of the then-Prime Minister of the country, Abdullah Badawi (Pak Lah).
I wrote such things as implying Pak Lah was licking his son-in-law's anus, that the people around him wore tutus at night and jump on rooftops to fight crime, um, that his wife Jean Danker looked like this:
... as well as an assortment of other things.
I waited for the authorities to bust into my apartment and take me away to the ISA gravy train, but alas, no one came.
I stepped up my online attacks, but still, no ISA.
So I used my clandestine contacts in the military espionage industry (I asked an older journalist) to find out where I went wrong.
Apparently, according to the guy, I would only be ISA-ed for writing stuff if I threaten to reveal sensitive information.
I did not and do not have sensitive information about anyone, any company or any Government, so I was just another guy yelling online. Big fucking deal, and no ISA.
I could have strapped explosives to my ass and threaten to suicide-bomb the capital, but that is just too much work.
Now, with ISA being repealed, I no longer have a potential gravy train, those fucking hippies have one less reason to smoke weed and rape children, and real terrorists will be able to escape easier than before.
I believe this is a bullshit move by the Government, to remove such an easy way to make money. I hope the Opposition do what they do best and complain about everything everyday, including this move by Najib, so we all could have our beloved ISA back.
Answers to Life's Big and Stupid Questions
Q1. When are you getting married?
A1: Is your father dead?
Q1: WHAT?
A1: Cause last night, your mother said we have to wait till your father's dead cause she doesn't believe in divorce. Or 'can't afford Team Action Force'. Hard to tell with her gargling my balls and all.
Q2. What religion do you believe in?
A2. I believe in the exact stupid fucking bullshit you believe in.
Q3. Who do you support: Government or Opposition?
A3. Which one smells worse: your mother's vagina or your mother's butthole?
Q4. I'm a Manchester United fan. I think we have a fairly good chance to win the league this season. Which English Premier League team do you support?
A4. I was born in Kuantan.
A1: Is your father dead?
Q1: WHAT?
A1: Cause last night, your mother said we have to wait till your father's dead cause she doesn't believe in divorce. Or 'can't afford Team Action Force'. Hard to tell with her gargling my balls and all.
Q2. What religion do you believe in?
A2. I believe in the exact stupid fucking bullshit you believe in.
Q3. Who do you support: Government or Opposition?
A3. Which one smells worse: your mother's vagina or your mother's butthole?
Q4. I'm a Manchester United fan. I think we have a fairly good chance to win the league this season. Which English Premier League team do you support?
A4. I was born in Kuantan.
Friday, September 16, 2011
The Proletariat Lariat
I'm a pro-wrestling fan, and I believe politics is EXACTLY like wrestling. Politicians pretend to hate each other and they fight, and we pay our hard-earned cash to them.
Well, fuck politics, yay wrestling.
I'm a John Cena fan. Yeah, I said it. I like John Cena. He's colourful, he raps, and he gets booed at. Despite being one of the hardest-working wrestlers in sports entertainment. Despite being a face. Yeah, I'm a smart mark, so fuck you.
John Cena gets booed at, yes. And despite being in an industry where it's almost like a fucking beauty pageant plus popularity contest (it's actually physical theatre), he is still the biggest star in the business.
It's like being in the Olympic 100M dash, and you win the gold, despite having only one leg. It's like being deaf, blind, have cerebral palsy, and you're a best-selling author. Eat shit, Helen Keller.
Traditionalists hate him because he's marketed at kids. Cena probably represents what they hate about WWE. WWE is going PG-13. That means no swearing, no (FAKE) blood and no nude playboy photospreads.
Oh, they hate that shit. And they take it all out on Cena.
He's still a millionaire. Maybe for that reason.
Well, fuck politics, yay wrestling.
I'm a John Cena fan. Yeah, I said it. I like John Cena. He's colourful, he raps, and he gets booed at. Despite being one of the hardest-working wrestlers in sports entertainment. Despite being a face. Yeah, I'm a smart mark, so fuck you.
John Cena gets booed at, yes. And despite being in an industry where it's almost like a fucking beauty pageant plus popularity contest (it's actually physical theatre), he is still the biggest star in the business.
It's like being in the Olympic 100M dash, and you win the gold, despite having only one leg. It's like being deaf, blind, have cerebral palsy, and you're a best-selling author. Eat shit, Helen Keller.
Traditionalists hate him because he's marketed at kids. Cena probably represents what they hate about WWE. WWE is going PG-13. That means no swearing, no (FAKE) blood and no nude playboy photospreads.
Oh, they hate that shit. And they take it all out on Cena.
He's still a millionaire. Maybe for that reason.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
True Neutral
I spent the first part of the night consoling a friend who did not want the ISA to be abolished.
Najib's historic announcement tonight, Sept 15, 2011, caused histrionics amongst some people.
I was like, plans to abolish ISA? About time! I mean, there goes my meal ticket of being ISA-ed and the giving RM5,000 speeches across the country as an ex-ISA reformed guy, but cool.
Reform or abolish the printing Presses act? Hell yeah!
Declare the end of the Emergency? Whoop dee doo.
And then, after listening to Najib and my friend wail almost inconsolably, I took a dump.
When I came out of the toilet, you know what I saw? Nothing. There were no fireworks, invisible pink unicorns didn't prance around, the hand of God did not come down to smite anyone. Idiots still run loose, and I'm still just me, baby. I'm just me.
Hey motherfuckers, did (potentially) saying goodbye to the ISA improve your life? Did you start farting rainbows and ponies?
I believe in one thing - if you want to improve your life or existence, you need to do it yourself.
Nizar Jamaluddin is not gonna come down on a white and green horse and lick your ass after you got screwed by the world. Anwar Ibrahim is not going to rape you in the face if you do anything bad. Well...
Najib will NOT give you free money. I should know. I'm his nephew (twice removed) and you know what I got? Nothing.
Lim Guan Eng will not help your son in UPSR. What's he gonna do, flash the answers outside the exam hall? Is Karpal Singh gonna wheel you to the hospital, or dispense advice like Prof X?
Karpal: Come to me, my X-Men!
Fuck no.
If you want something done, you gotta do it yourself. You want to improve your financial situation? Work harder. Work smarter. Be aware. Save money. Invest in stuff. Don't waste it on bullshit like weddings and kids.
You want world peace? Stop being mean to people. Stop killing people. Be at peace yourself.
You know what I hate? Here's a semi-long story:
I grew up in a poverty-stricken part of Kuantan, Pahang. How poor? Well, my neighbour, in 2009, made RM400 a month. He has six kids. And he's NOT the poorest person there.
There are drug addicts, people with large families (14 kids) and dead end jobs abound.
My father's starting salary was RM222 way back in the '60s. He was considered well-off.
Nothing special, man. Big fucking deal. I know many people in KL who came from such places.
And then, there was a campaign a few years back. You know what the campaign was? It's name was 'Eradicate Poverty'.
So what do they do? They ask people to put up stickers on their blogs saying, 'Eradicate Poverty.'
Way to go, privileged assholes! You just eradicated poverty by putting a sticker on your fucking blog.
There was another campaign to stop rape. Okay, that's good, cause other than hentai, rape has no place in a human world.
So what was the campaign funds aimed at?
They bought big-ass billboards that say "Stop Rape" in Pantai Dalam.
I was like, what the fuck?
Rapist: I was about to rape someone, when I saw this big-ass billboard that said "Stop Rape" and I said to myself, "You know, Jimbo? Stop rape. Stop raping people. Yeah! I bow down to the power of the giant billboard!"
This will not fucking happen, dumbass!
Awareness is important, but awareness alone is NOT enough. What's the use of branding, if your product is total crap?
If you want to eradicate poverty, start a food bank, create funds for businesses targeted at creating jobs for the poor, ask Proton and Perodua to conduct training sessions for the poor and uneducated and then take the best, give them jobs at Proton and Perodua centres. When they get good enough, start a franchise system or some shit.
Buy land. A lot of the poor folk can do manual labour. Get land, plant rubber, get the poor to take care of it, and then tap the motherfucking rubber trees.
All I hear are bullshit.
"Education! We must give them education! Nyeeee!"
Fuck you, unrealistic bitch!
You can't learn on an empty stomach.
Food, clothing, shelter FIRST.
Then, instead of education, give them training. Vocational whatever. Give them skills, not As.
I mean, a degree in liberal arts means jack shit in the swamp. What you gonna do, read Bharati Mukherjee to lizards and snakes?
"Says here, Mukherjee is influenced by VS Naipul on immigrant literature. STop sticking your tongue out, snake! I'm giving you education here!"
Na-ah, man. NOT going to fucking happen.
Look, leave politics to the politicians. As far as I'm concerned, politicians only want one thing - our money. Ignore them. Let them fuck all. You'll only have heartbreak if you even listen to them.
This country is ours. All of it. Every single inch of the swamp, the cities, the jungles, whatever. This is our land. It is up to us to do shit on it. If the caue is eradicating poverty, then fucking eradicate poverty. Think. Execute.
My aim is to have enough money to buy 20 acres of land by 2020. Then, I'm going to plant stuff on it. I'll make money, and so will the poor. What's your contribution to the fucking country?
You assemble, and then you play songs, smoke some weed, and then rape some underaged, passed-out girls. Or boys. Way to go, hero.
You can all suck my dick, you pretentious assholes.
Najib's historic announcement tonight, Sept 15, 2011, caused histrionics amongst some people.
I was like, plans to abolish ISA? About time! I mean, there goes my meal ticket of being ISA-ed and the giving RM5,000 speeches across the country as an ex-ISA reformed guy, but cool.
Reform or abolish the printing Presses act? Hell yeah!
Declare the end of the Emergency? Whoop dee doo.
And then, after listening to Najib and my friend wail almost inconsolably, I took a dump.
When I came out of the toilet, you know what I saw? Nothing. There were no fireworks, invisible pink unicorns didn't prance around, the hand of God did not come down to smite anyone. Idiots still run loose, and I'm still just me, baby. I'm just me.
Hey motherfuckers, did (potentially) saying goodbye to the ISA improve your life? Did you start farting rainbows and ponies?
I believe in one thing - if you want to improve your life or existence, you need to do it yourself.
Nizar Jamaluddin is not gonna come down on a white and green horse and lick your ass after you got screwed by the world. Anwar Ibrahim is not going to rape you in the face if you do anything bad. Well...
Najib will NOT give you free money. I should know. I'm his nephew (twice removed) and you know what I got? Nothing.
Lim Guan Eng will not help your son in UPSR. What's he gonna do, flash the answers outside the exam hall? Is Karpal Singh gonna wheel you to the hospital, or dispense advice like Prof X?
Karpal: Come to me, my X-Men!
Fuck no.
If you want something done, you gotta do it yourself. You want to improve your financial situation? Work harder. Work smarter. Be aware. Save money. Invest in stuff. Don't waste it on bullshit like weddings and kids.
You want world peace? Stop being mean to people. Stop killing people. Be at peace yourself.
You know what I hate? Here's a semi-long story:
I grew up in a poverty-stricken part of Kuantan, Pahang. How poor? Well, my neighbour, in 2009, made RM400 a month. He has six kids. And he's NOT the poorest person there.
There are drug addicts, people with large families (14 kids) and dead end jobs abound.
My father's starting salary was RM222 way back in the '60s. He was considered well-off.
Nothing special, man. Big fucking deal. I know many people in KL who came from such places.
And then, there was a campaign a few years back. You know what the campaign was? It's name was 'Eradicate Poverty'.
So what do they do? They ask people to put up stickers on their blogs saying, 'Eradicate Poverty.'
Way to go, privileged assholes! You just eradicated poverty by putting a sticker on your fucking blog.
There was another campaign to stop rape. Okay, that's good, cause other than hentai, rape has no place in a human world.
So what was the campaign funds aimed at?
They bought big-ass billboards that say "Stop Rape" in Pantai Dalam.
I was like, what the fuck?
Rapist: I was about to rape someone, when I saw this big-ass billboard that said "Stop Rape" and I said to myself, "You know, Jimbo? Stop rape. Stop raping people. Yeah! I bow down to the power of the giant billboard!"
This will not fucking happen, dumbass!
Awareness is important, but awareness alone is NOT enough. What's the use of branding, if your product is total crap?
If you want to eradicate poverty, start a food bank, create funds for businesses targeted at creating jobs for the poor, ask Proton and Perodua to conduct training sessions for the poor and uneducated and then take the best, give them jobs at Proton and Perodua centres. When they get good enough, start a franchise system or some shit.
Buy land. A lot of the poor folk can do manual labour. Get land, plant rubber, get the poor to take care of it, and then tap the motherfucking rubber trees.
All I hear are bullshit.
"Education! We must give them education! Nyeeee!"
Fuck you, unrealistic bitch!
You can't learn on an empty stomach.
Food, clothing, shelter FIRST.
Then, instead of education, give them training. Vocational whatever. Give them skills, not As.
I mean, a degree in liberal arts means jack shit in the swamp. What you gonna do, read Bharati Mukherjee to lizards and snakes?
"Says here, Mukherjee is influenced by VS Naipul on immigrant literature. STop sticking your tongue out, snake! I'm giving you education here!"
Na-ah, man. NOT going to fucking happen.
Look, leave politics to the politicians. As far as I'm concerned, politicians only want one thing - our money. Ignore them. Let them fuck all. You'll only have heartbreak if you even listen to them.
This country is ours. All of it. Every single inch of the swamp, the cities, the jungles, whatever. This is our land. It is up to us to do shit on it. If the caue is eradicating poverty, then fucking eradicate poverty. Think. Execute.
My aim is to have enough money to buy 20 acres of land by 2020. Then, I'm going to plant stuff on it. I'll make money, and so will the poor. What's your contribution to the fucking country?
You assemble, and then you play songs, smoke some weed, and then rape some underaged, passed-out girls. Or boys. Way to go, hero.
You can all suck my dick, you pretentious assholes.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
What is The Pod?
Just a quick line to update you guys about what I've been doing all this while.
In the next few months, most of my attention will be on this thing: http://www.facebook.com/ThePodPage
Well, that's just the Facebook page. The product will be ready soon, but don't hold your breath.
Anyway, please like the page and spread it around like herpes?
In the next few months, most of my attention will be on this thing: http://www.facebook.com/ThePodPage
Well, that's just the Facebook page. The product will be ready soon, but don't hold your breath.
Anyway, please like the page and spread it around like herpes?
Dark Magic Ritual!
It's currently 5.21am, and I just completed work. I am happy, though, and I want to share with you what and why and how of the whole shit.
They say that a person with just a little bit of knowledge or a little bit of insight makes the most noise, and also is the most dangerous. Well, I am that person. I just can't keep my mouth shut.
I woke up early yesterday, around 7am. I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't. So I stood up on my FULL-LATEX mattress and began my breathing exercises. I should do it more often, really.
There's nothing religious or spiritual with my breathing exercises, really. I don't believe in all that crap anyway. I don't think if I practice breathing for 30 years, I can breathe fire or teleport.
What it does is give me time with myself.
I cast off my expectations, my judgments, my desire to win or to be right. Not by resisting them, but by acknowledging that they are there.
I confront my anger, my insecurities and my fears. I embrace them all.
I understand that we are all connected. All things - living or not, organic and inorganic - are connected, and part of a whole.
And then I teleported to the kitchen and breathed fire on some bread to make toast, because breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Yoga Fire!
They say that a person with just a little bit of knowledge or a little bit of insight makes the most noise, and also is the most dangerous. Well, I am that person. I just can't keep my mouth shut.
I woke up early yesterday, around 7am. I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't. So I stood up on my FULL-LATEX mattress and began my breathing exercises. I should do it more often, really.
There's nothing religious or spiritual with my breathing exercises, really. I don't believe in all that crap anyway. I don't think if I practice breathing for 30 years, I can breathe fire or teleport.
What it does is give me time with myself.
I cast off my expectations, my judgments, my desire to win or to be right. Not by resisting them, but by acknowledging that they are there.
I confront my anger, my insecurities and my fears. I embrace them all.
I understand that we are all connected. All things - living or not, organic and inorganic - are connected, and part of a whole.
And then I teleported to the kitchen and breathed fire on some bread to make toast, because breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Yoga Fire!
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Tanggal! Tiga-Puluh-Satu!
Deborah Henry at the Miss Universe thing.
I've never been more proud to be a Malaysian.
Got it from @obefiend, pix from ibtimes.com.
Proper Care for Your Fridge
The refrigerator arrived just now. Woo hoo! Thank you Harvey Norman movers for delivering on time.
I'm leaving the fridge alone for an hour or so in order to allow the refrigerants to settle. When moving, the thing will slosh back and forth, so I need to wait for it all to settle down or some shit.
I'll turn it on before I go out for an open house. By the time I get back, it will be fully functioning, I hope.
Now, the equipment for this house is 90% complete.
Get back, motherfucker! You don't know me like that!
I'm leaving the fridge alone for an hour or so in order to allow the refrigerants to settle. When moving, the thing will slosh back and forth, so I need to wait for it all to settle down or some shit.
I'll turn it on before I go out for an open house. By the time I get back, it will be fully functioning, I hope.
Now, the equipment for this house is 90% complete.
Get back, motherfucker! You don't know me like that!
Double! Blackberry! Tomahawk! Boomerang!
So I got a new Blackberry yesterday, but until late last night, couldn't activate any of my email accounts. I called 123 - the Maxis Hotline - and though I usually get satisfactory service, was given some rather interesting take on the whole issue.
After a few minutes of listening to recorded Maxis promotions which I can't remember a single thing about, even though I listened to it four fucking times in the past 24 hours, I had to explain my situation again. This is the case for four times I called the call centre, though with TM, it was seven when I had problems.
So blahblahblah, and I have a faint recollection of something similar happening a few years ago. That time, one phone call was all it took.
Anyway, blahblahblah. And then I got one of the guys to tell me this:
"Sir, there is a problem with the rim sir."
"The wha?"
"The rim sir, got problem, I can't even log on to the rim sir."
"I'm sorry? The wha?"
"The rim, sir, the Blackberry company."
"Oh. RIM."
"Yes, sir. Research in Motion."
"RIM is down?"
"Yes, sir."
"Is it global?"
I immediately sat up in my chair and scrambled for a notepad and a pen. If RIM is down worldwide, this could make the print - waitaminute. I don't work at a newspaper anymore. Fuck it.
"So, is it global? Or just my device?"
"Yennayennayenna YENNA! Ate kome nok menengok! Ngo te li pan ta kong chai ouk-ouk-ouk!"
"I'm... sorry?"
"Absolve, domine animas ab omni defunctorum vin culo, besa me culo."
The conversation degenerated from there, and I went to bed thinking, "Damn, RIM, not only are you losing marketshare, your services are unstable. Maybe I should go Android next."
So I woke up today and called the 123 number again. In 10 minutes, the girl reset my password and I could activate my emails again.
I have no idea what happened, and I don't give a fuck. What I know is that my Blackberry is alive. Again. I got an open house to go to today, and two deadlines to catch. Maybe four.
Oh, and the fridge is coming later.
After a few minutes of listening to recorded Maxis promotions which I can't remember a single thing about, even though I listened to it four fucking times in the past 24 hours, I had to explain my situation again. This is the case for four times I called the call centre, though with TM, it was seven when I had problems.
So blahblahblah, and I have a faint recollection of something similar happening a few years ago. That time, one phone call was all it took.
Anyway, blahblahblah. And then I got one of the guys to tell me this:
"Sir, there is a problem with the rim sir."
"The wha?"
"The rim sir, got problem, I can't even log on to the rim sir."
"I'm sorry? The wha?"
"The rim, sir, the Blackberry company."
"Oh. RIM."
"Yes, sir. Research in Motion."
"RIM is down?"
"Yes, sir."
"Is it global?"
I immediately sat up in my chair and scrambled for a notepad and a pen. If RIM is down worldwide, this could make the print - waitaminute. I don't work at a newspaper anymore. Fuck it.
"So, is it global? Or just my device?"
"Yennayennayenna YENNA! Ate kome nok menengok! Ngo te li pan ta kong chai ouk-ouk-ouk!"
"I'm... sorry?"
"Absolve, domine animas ab omni defunctorum vin culo, besa me culo."
The conversation degenerated from there, and I went to bed thinking, "Damn, RIM, not only are you losing marketshare, your services are unstable. Maybe I should go Android next."
So I woke up today and called the 123 number again. In 10 minutes, the girl reset my password and I could activate my emails again.
I have no idea what happened, and I don't give a fuck. What I know is that my Blackberry is alive. Again. I got an open house to go to today, and two deadlines to catch. Maybe four.
Oh, and the fridge is coming later.
Identification With Form
Amidst all the shopping, it is easy to lose your identity and start assigning yourself to objects.
Pretty soon, Tyler Durden is right.
"The things you own, end up owning you."
We are not our smartphones. We are not our bank account, the clothes we wear, the people we fuck. We are not our jobs. We are not who we know, or even what we know.
The thing with identity is that it is entirely egotistical. All of it. We latch on to certain words and definitions, and we become it.
When I write about people - and most of my writing is about people or people-centric, I have often encountered the problem that 800 words cannot fully capture the essence of a person. Or 1000. Or 10,000.
Words are basically labels. How does one write the soul in shorthand?
How can you not include the fixed, glassy gaze as well as his CV in an article? Or the fact that at some point in his life, this person was both a villain and a hero to a seemingly insignificant little bug?
The tics. Not ticks. Tics. Facial expressions, the way the pupils go wide or narrow, depending on whether they like what they see, or remember? The tone of voice that carries with it a resignation to a well-rehearsed speech?
It used to drive me crazy. And I probably was. Probably am.
My parents are married for 46 years, and they do not know each other. 46 years. A lifetime. Longer than mine. If you can't know a person in 46 years, what hopes do 800 words have?
So we go back to labels. And words are just that, as I said just now. It is an entirely imperfect system.
Oh well. Time to restore contacts to my new Blackberry! Yay!
Pretty soon, Tyler Durden is right.
"The things you own, end up owning you."
We are not our smartphones. We are not our bank account, the clothes we wear, the people we fuck. We are not our jobs. We are not who we know, or even what we know.
The thing with identity is that it is entirely egotistical. All of it. We latch on to certain words and definitions, and we become it.
When I write about people - and most of my writing is about people or people-centric, I have often encountered the problem that 800 words cannot fully capture the essence of a person. Or 1000. Or 10,000.
Words are basically labels. How does one write the soul in shorthand?
How can you not include the fixed, glassy gaze as well as his CV in an article? Or the fact that at some point in his life, this person was both a villain and a hero to a seemingly insignificant little bug?
The tics. Not ticks. Tics. Facial expressions, the way the pupils go wide or narrow, depending on whether they like what they see, or remember? The tone of voice that carries with it a resignation to a well-rehearsed speech?
It used to drive me crazy. And I probably was. Probably am.
My parents are married for 46 years, and they do not know each other. 46 years. A lifetime. Longer than mine. If you can't know a person in 46 years, what hopes do 800 words have?
So we go back to labels. And words are just that, as I said just now. It is an entirely imperfect system.
Oh well. Time to restore contacts to my new Blackberry! Yay!
Happy is in Your Hand, Happy is in Your Hand!
I don't shop very much, so when I do, I try to get good deals and buy cheap stuff that would last a long time.
Case in point, this tattered collared shirt I'm wearing right now is five years old. Some parts on my computer are from 11 years ago, including my monitor. My old Blackberry, I used it for three years and I'll post pictures of its state soon.
I still have some t-shirts from 1995 which I still wear today. They are all torn and faded.
My old PC used to have a power cable I Macguyvered from an old kettle I got from my sister way back in 1999.
You can't expect much when you pay low prices, but if you care for the things you paid for, I believe you can make them last. If you want to, of course.
It's about respect and appreciating what you have. It's about being grateful. I remember a time when there was huge drama over finding the right-sized shirts for me. Huge fucking drama. There was also drama about standing fans and shit.
I mean, what the fuck? Fans? And the TV was a huge source of drama as well. Even when we had two TV sets, there was drama.
Anyway, I generally go to Midvalley for fun. I watch movies at Gardens or Megamall. I buy computer stuff now exclusively from All IT Hypermarket at Ikano Power Center. I go to Bangsar Village to eat, and KLCC to deal with Maxis, though the Maxis Centre at eCurve is really very good.
Oh well. Time to chill, y'all!
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Let's Go Let's Go Chopping!
Whooo-eee! Err... I mean, KA-KAAAA! WOO-HOO-HOOOO! (Do it like Mat Sabu! PIS-M's very own Internet icon.)
I just spent the whole day shopping. At The Curve, which is fast becoming my favourite place to do so.
First thing's first - I needed a new phone as my old Blackberry Curve 8520 2G is almost dead. The battery is the first thing to go. After that, it WILL start to go crazy and then die. Before that happens on a busy workday, compelling me to go to hell and get resurrected as a masked avenger, I might as well get a new phone and avoid all the drama.
So I went to the Maxis Centre at eCurve and was told by a very helpful staff dude that, "It will be a long wait." To which I replied, "Fuck it, man! I'll wait 15 minutes if I have to. Hell, I'll wait 30 minutes if you have the Blackberry Bold 9780 in Black."
I waited patiently for like, 20 minutes, before a very helpful staff saw me and helped make savings on my account as well as get me this:
This is the Bold I want. I don't want the Bold Touch. Not yet. Always stay off the bleeding edge of technology, man. Plus, supposedly the Bold 9780 has better battery life than the Bold Touch. We shall see. I am charging the Bold 9780 right now.
If you guys are interested, a brand new version of the Blackberry phone I am using right now, the Blackberry Curve 8520 2G, is going for RM90 with a two-year BIS 90 contract with Maxis. But I suggest you take the second package of BIS 55 as I doubt you'll need that much bandwidth. With a two-year BIS 55 contract, you can get the phone for RM300++.
It's a good phone. I used my Curve for three years and did a lot of business on it.
After buying some accessories at the Blackberry shop downstairs, I made my way to Harvey Norman to survey refrigerators and rice cookers.
Then I went to Ikea, where I got myself these:
Identisk Crisis: Wok with lid
I have an induction stove, courtesy of @YouTiup, so the Identisk, which is also suitable for induction hobs, amongst other things, is the perfect thing for me to cook in. Big enough to even hold my chicken curry and other stuff. The lid helps keep my apartment less greasy than it already is, when cooking. Plus, at RM69, it's cheap compared to Zebra and other brands.
Fatal-Four-way: Grunka Lunka Doopidee doo
This is the four-piece Grunka kitchen set. Stainless steel, comprising of a (from the left) spatula, spoon, ladle and spaghetti server. RM25 for the whole set, meaning RM6.25 for each utensil.
Bonus: It IS a bonus!
I was looking at spatulas when I found the Grunka set, and then discovered this wonderful item: the aptly-named 16-piece Bonus Cutlery set. At only RM4.90 per set, it is a steal with four sets of fork-knife-spoon-teaspoon in each box! I bought two!
Vanlig: Whateverlah
I need some glasses, though I primarily drink out of empty mineral water bottles, so I got myself the Vanlig set. RM9.80 per set of half-dozen.
Lugn: Cheaper than Plastic!
This is the Lugn plate, a stoneware thing going for... wait for it... wait for it... RM1.60 a piece! WHat the fuck? My plastic plates cost me RM2 each. So I got me five of these for RM8.
Heat Pot Stand: Blahblahblah
For the Identisk. I don't want to set my wok just anywhere.
Frakta for My Matha
As I exited Ikea, and finding nothing interesting at their As Is section, I got myself two of these large bags. My mother wanted one of these when I used it to carry stuff back home last Raya. She'll never use it, but who cares? It's RM1.90
Before going back to Harvey Norman, I stopped by a Bata shop at Ikano to buy this:
818: Beach Street Avenue!
This is the Bata Power 818-9771 court shoes. Colour is royal/white. I buy Bata shoes not because I am being ironic, but because they're damn cheap and last a long time. Longer than Nike, and they look like Nike too. I wore mine for three years until I got bored.
Only RM59.99, bebeh!
At Harvey Norman, I met a very friendly sales dude and I bought this from him:
Paff-Paff The Magic Dragoon
This is the Tefal RK 1012. Combination rice-cooker+steamer. It has stupid stickers all around it, but it is useful. And Tefal makes some good non-stick kitchen stuff, the same technology they use for the pot inside.
Finally, there is this heavyweight:
Refridgeron! Transform!
This is the Panasonic NR-BT223. It's a bottom freezer, with a net volume of 296L or 237L with all the stuff inside. It will be delivered tomorrow.
I do not know whether this fridge and that rice cooker will be good. I'll definitely keep on posting reviews about it. However, I am done for the day and it's time to just chill while I wait for my Blackberry Bold 9780 gets up to full charge.
I just spent the whole day shopping. At The Curve, which is fast becoming my favourite place to do so.
First thing's first - I needed a new phone as my old Blackberry Curve 8520 2G is almost dead. The battery is the first thing to go. After that, it WILL start to go crazy and then die. Before that happens on a busy workday, compelling me to go to hell and get resurrected as a masked avenger, I might as well get a new phone and avoid all the drama.
So I went to the Maxis Centre at eCurve and was told by a very helpful staff dude that, "It will be a long wait." To which I replied, "Fuck it, man! I'll wait 15 minutes if I have to. Hell, I'll wait 30 minutes if you have the Blackberry Bold 9780 in Black."
I waited patiently for like, 20 minutes, before a very helpful staff saw me and helped make savings on my account as well as get me this:
This is the Bold I want. I don't want the Bold Touch. Not yet. Always stay off the bleeding edge of technology, man. Plus, supposedly the Bold 9780 has better battery life than the Bold Touch. We shall see. I am charging the Bold 9780 right now.
If you guys are interested, a brand new version of the Blackberry phone I am using right now, the Blackberry Curve 8520 2G, is going for RM90 with a two-year BIS 90 contract with Maxis. But I suggest you take the second package of BIS 55 as I doubt you'll need that much bandwidth. With a two-year BIS 55 contract, you can get the phone for RM300++.
It's a good phone. I used my Curve for three years and did a lot of business on it.
After buying some accessories at the Blackberry shop downstairs, I made my way to Harvey Norman to survey refrigerators and rice cookers.
Then I went to Ikea, where I got myself these:
Identisk Crisis: Wok with lid
I have an induction stove, courtesy of @YouTiup, so the Identisk, which is also suitable for induction hobs, amongst other things, is the perfect thing for me to cook in. Big enough to even hold my chicken curry and other stuff. The lid helps keep my apartment less greasy than it already is, when cooking. Plus, at RM69, it's cheap compared to Zebra and other brands.
Fatal-Four-way: Grunka Lunka Doopidee doo
This is the four-piece Grunka kitchen set. Stainless steel, comprising of a (from the left) spatula, spoon, ladle and spaghetti server. RM25 for the whole set, meaning RM6.25 for each utensil.
Bonus: It IS a bonus!
I was looking at spatulas when I found the Grunka set, and then discovered this wonderful item: the aptly-named 16-piece Bonus Cutlery set. At only RM4.90 per set, it is a steal with four sets of fork-knife-spoon-teaspoon in each box! I bought two!
Vanlig: Whateverlah
I need some glasses, though I primarily drink out of empty mineral water bottles, so I got myself the Vanlig set. RM9.80 per set of half-dozen.
Lugn: Cheaper than Plastic!
This is the Lugn plate, a stoneware thing going for... wait for it... wait for it... RM1.60 a piece! WHat the fuck? My plastic plates cost me RM2 each. So I got me five of these for RM8.
Heat Pot Stand: Blahblahblah
For the Identisk. I don't want to set my wok just anywhere.
Frakta for My Matha
As I exited Ikea, and finding nothing interesting at their As Is section, I got myself two of these large bags. My mother wanted one of these when I used it to carry stuff back home last Raya. She'll never use it, but who cares? It's RM1.90
Before going back to Harvey Norman, I stopped by a Bata shop at Ikano to buy this:
818: Beach Street Avenue!
This is the Bata Power 818-9771 court shoes. Colour is royal/white. I buy Bata shoes not because I am being ironic, but because they're damn cheap and last a long time. Longer than Nike, and they look like Nike too. I wore mine for three years until I got bored.
Only RM59.99, bebeh!
At Harvey Norman, I met a very friendly sales dude and I bought this from him:
Paff-Paff The Magic Dragoon
This is the Tefal RK 1012. Combination rice-cooker+steamer. It has stupid stickers all around it, but it is useful. And Tefal makes some good non-stick kitchen stuff, the same technology they use for the pot inside.
Finally, there is this heavyweight:
Refridgeron! Transform!
This is the Panasonic NR-BT223. It's a bottom freezer, with a net volume of 296L or 237L with all the stuff inside. It will be delivered tomorrow.
I do not know whether this fridge and that rice cooker will be good. I'll definitely keep on posting reviews about it. However, I am done for the day and it's time to just chill while I wait for my Blackberry Bold 9780 gets up to full charge.
Culture of Pain
There is a currency more potent than gold. There is a God more powerful than the views of other people.
Its name? Pain. It is a drug that can't be shaken off. I've battled this culture of pain for a long time, until I realise that the best way is to walk away. People and communities mired in pain, addicted to its justifying embrace, will never want to wake up.
You tell people the great, big secret, that there is really no need for pain, and they will try to inflict pain on you.
It's all bullshit.
In Kino's Journey, episode I don't know which, Kino traveled to the Land of Visible Pain. That country is so technologically advanced, there is no need for manual labour or work of any kind. But the people work still, in giant halls, in front of adding machines, supervised by robots.
What were they doing? Recalculating the computations of their computers. For what? For stress. Because stress is their only way of determining who gets more resources.
I see this manifest in people who stay in abusive relationships, who want the pain so they could bitch to their friends. People who want to feel wronged. People who are addicted to being victims.
Like a drug, it is addictive - that's coming from first-hand experience - and like a disease, it is infectious.
Buddha addressed this a few hundred years before Christ. His mission was to understand suffering and how to escape it. His teachings are there for all to see, but no one is watching.
In Islam, most of the conversations I have read concerning Muhammad reveals a rational mind. Not the crazy, bearded suicide bomber Fox News would have you believe.
He'd say, "Go and fast, bitches!" And then some guy said, "Oh, sorry, I fucked my wife during Ramadan, in the day."
"Okay, so go feed the poor as penance."
"C'mon man! We don't have any food to feed the poor!"
"Okay, then take these dates - my dates - and fucking feed the poor."
"But, dude, we ARE the poor. The poorest-ass podunk people in the town."
"Okay, so go and feed yourself. Safe journey, broseph!"
Today, Islam is made difficult by PIS-M, Lim Guan Eng, DAP, Mat Sabu, and your mama.
In my short career, I have had two nervous breakdowns and been hospitalised for stress four times. My insurance records recorded these. Once for kidney stone, another time when I had to have surgery, yet another for chronic abdominal pain. One time, I thought I was going deaf.
All that pain, and it was really quite unnecessary. I explored meditation and New Age philosophy to understand pain and how to live a life without emotional or psychological pain.
It all stems from the ego and the desire to be SEEN as better than everyone else. Not to BE better. Just to be SEEN as better. Pain is ultimately self-serving and stupid.
Every day, when I wake up, I must make a choice whether or not to live a life of pain and subscribe to the dumbass culture or live free.
I would like to say that I have gotten over pain, and that there is a nice ending to this rant with me growing wings and flying over Malaysia, shooting lasers and dropping bombs on politicians.
The truth is, the only way to neutralise pain is to accept it and dissolve the thing by being still.
So fuck you, I'm going shopping for a Blackberry, a fridge, a rice cooker, pots and pans and stuff.
Cheerio!
Its name? Pain. It is a drug that can't be shaken off. I've battled this culture of pain for a long time, until I realise that the best way is to walk away. People and communities mired in pain, addicted to its justifying embrace, will never want to wake up.
You tell people the great, big secret, that there is really no need for pain, and they will try to inflict pain on you.
It's all bullshit.
In Kino's Journey, episode I don't know which, Kino traveled to the Land of Visible Pain. That country is so technologically advanced, there is no need for manual labour or work of any kind. But the people work still, in giant halls, in front of adding machines, supervised by robots.
What were they doing? Recalculating the computations of their computers. For what? For stress. Because stress is their only way of determining who gets more resources.
I see this manifest in people who stay in abusive relationships, who want the pain so they could bitch to their friends. People who want to feel wronged. People who are addicted to being victims.
Like a drug, it is addictive - that's coming from first-hand experience - and like a disease, it is infectious.
Buddha addressed this a few hundred years before Christ. His mission was to understand suffering and how to escape it. His teachings are there for all to see, but no one is watching.
In Islam, most of the conversations I have read concerning Muhammad reveals a rational mind. Not the crazy, bearded suicide bomber Fox News would have you believe.
He'd say, "Go and fast, bitches!" And then some guy said, "Oh, sorry, I fucked my wife during Ramadan, in the day."
"Okay, so go feed the poor as penance."
"C'mon man! We don't have any food to feed the poor!"
"Okay, then take these dates - my dates - and fucking feed the poor."
"But, dude, we ARE the poor. The poorest-ass podunk people in the town."
"Okay, so go and feed yourself. Safe journey, broseph!"
Today, Islam is made difficult by PIS-M, Lim Guan Eng, DAP, Mat Sabu, and your mama.
In my short career, I have had two nervous breakdowns and been hospitalised for stress four times. My insurance records recorded these. Once for kidney stone, another time when I had to have surgery, yet another for chronic abdominal pain. One time, I thought I was going deaf.
All that pain, and it was really quite unnecessary. I explored meditation and New Age philosophy to understand pain and how to live a life without emotional or psychological pain.
It all stems from the ego and the desire to be SEEN as better than everyone else. Not to BE better. Just to be SEEN as better. Pain is ultimately self-serving and stupid.
Every day, when I wake up, I must make a choice whether or not to live a life of pain and subscribe to the dumbass culture or live free.
I would like to say that I have gotten over pain, and that there is a nice ending to this rant with me growing wings and flying over Malaysia, shooting lasers and dropping bombs on politicians.
The truth is, the only way to neutralise pain is to accept it and dissolve the thing by being still.
So fuck you, I'm going shopping for a Blackberry, a fridge, a rice cooker, pots and pans and stuff.
Cheerio!
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Wrestler on the Roof: If I was a Wrestler
If I was a professional wrestler, I'd call myself The Muslim Hamburglar. Or The Terrorist.
My gimmick would be, I'd appear at an event strapped with dynamite.
If I show up, everybody leaves, including myself.
No one would ever see me wrestle, because I am 'the most wanted man in sports entertainment... and by the CIA.'
If they had, though, they could have seen my signature moves - a suicide dive from the top rope called The Suicide Bomber, a submission maneuver involving a testicle claw called The Revirginator and my finishing move - The Malaysian Mastectomy.
The Malaysian Mastectomy would have me rip the opponent's nipples out during a shooting star press. No one can fight after that.
My gimmick would be, I'd appear at an event strapped with dynamite.
If I show up, everybody leaves, including myself.
No one would ever see me wrestle, because I am 'the most wanted man in sports entertainment... and by the CIA.'
If they had, though, they could have seen my signature moves - a suicide dive from the top rope called The Suicide Bomber, a submission maneuver involving a testicle claw called The Revirginator and my finishing move - The Malaysian Mastectomy.
The Malaysian Mastectomy would have me rip the opponent's nipples out during a shooting star press. No one can fight after that.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
The Right to Shut the Fuck Up
A photographer died recently. Got shot in Somalia. That's some mean bush.
Media people die all the time. People die all the time.
What I can't, don't and won't understand is people politicising this shit to the hilt of their anuses. I mean, a man fucking died. This is sad. Sad only.
You give the grieving family members a pat, and you respectfully walk away. Walk the fuck away. Keep walking.
Some asshole retards decided to attack the guy. The dead guy. This happened to Yasmin Ahmad, and it's happening now. Do Malaysians have no fucking balls whatsoever to attack a living man and would prefer to throw stones at a dead man? What the fuck?
They're saying the guy was dumb. That he was asking for it. That he didn't have insurance. That his employers endangered him. Without any regard for the family.
Hey, fucktards, if your loved one died, would you really be interested in hearing people squabble about his or her death and how he/she died? If one of my family members died, no matter how much of a dumbass they may be, the last thing I want to hear is people and politicians trying to ride on the issue.
It would be like digging up the corpse and raping it in the ass. For fuck's sake, the guy died. Did he want to be a cause? Does his family members WANT to hear your bullshit? You're turning grief into a circus.
And you know what? Nobody gives a shit what your stand is. Nobody gives a shit how smart you are or how liberal or how you would have done it better.
A person died. Shut the fuck up and go fuck yourself.
"I'm a liberal nyeeeeee! I would have ruled this country better and no one would have to die. I'll kill death. I'm better. Memememememe."
And I'm saying this about BOTH camps. All of you are fucking retards.
And then there's the Petknode issue. Sure, those allegedly cruel people deserve whatever, but it seems that we have more regard for dead cats than dead people.
Oh, the fucking drama. Spare me the bullshit and go kill yourself.
Media people die all the time. People die all the time.
What I can't, don't and won't understand is people politicising this shit to the hilt of their anuses. I mean, a man fucking died. This is sad. Sad only.
You give the grieving family members a pat, and you respectfully walk away. Walk the fuck away. Keep walking.
Some asshole retards decided to attack the guy. The dead guy. This happened to Yasmin Ahmad, and it's happening now. Do Malaysians have no fucking balls whatsoever to attack a living man and would prefer to throw stones at a dead man? What the fuck?
They're saying the guy was dumb. That he was asking for it. That he didn't have insurance. That his employers endangered him. Without any regard for the family.
Hey, fucktards, if your loved one died, would you really be interested in hearing people squabble about his or her death and how he/she died? If one of my family members died, no matter how much of a dumbass they may be, the last thing I want to hear is people and politicians trying to ride on the issue.
It would be like digging up the corpse and raping it in the ass. For fuck's sake, the guy died. Did he want to be a cause? Does his family members WANT to hear your bullshit? You're turning grief into a circus.
And you know what? Nobody gives a shit what your stand is. Nobody gives a shit how smart you are or how liberal or how you would have done it better.
A person died. Shut the fuck up and go fuck yourself.
"I'm a liberal nyeeeeee! I would have ruled this country better and no one would have to die. I'll kill death. I'm better. Memememememe."
And I'm saying this about BOTH camps. All of you are fucking retards.
And then there's the Petknode issue. Sure, those allegedly cruel people deserve whatever, but it seems that we have more regard for dead cats than dead people.
Oh, the fucking drama. Spare me the bullshit and go kill yourself.
Days of Future Past: The Frontier Spirit
Tomorrow, I will go to what was the best Maxis service center in Malaysia - and I hope it still is - at KLCC to get myself a Blackberry Bold 3.
As I hold the smartphone in my hand, I'll say, "I like the feel of this shootin' iron."
Then I'll give it a twirl and put it in my holster.
Steve Jobs might jump from behind the counter and yell, "BUY APPLE MAKE YOU KOOL FOOL LOL! OBEY!"
"If ah remember correctly, yore stewpid G5 made me late to a ho-down one taime, and I had to ho a ho down, ya dig? Because it done hang on me, Mr IT-JUST-WORKS-MY-ASS."
Angered by my nonchalant response, Steve Jobs will transform into a renegade unit. A towering behemoth of crappy Apple products such as LISA, NAVI, iCUBE and everything they've made in the past 20 or 30 years.
"Whoo-ee! He's tougher than shoe leather and sharper than a porcupine quill," I'll say.
So I'll jump into my Blackberry Bold 3 and a hot blonde will say, "Ramrod will now take navigational control."
The disembodied voice of Peter Cullen then will say, "Acknowledge, April. Navigational control - ON. Blackberry Challenge Phase - 1. Head 'em up, move 'em out. Power stride, and ready to ride."
After a short battle, I'll vaporise the renegade with my nipple cannons.
Ah, I've always wanted to write a story in the future tense.
I am getting a new phone tomorrow. Already called Maxis and everything seems to be in order.
I don't want Bold Touch because I have a heavy distrust of touchscreen devices. I believe touchscreens are like fax machines - intermediary tech that will soon be obsolete but will still be used by freaks who want to stay in the '70s.
Mark my words. We will all be using motion sensor holograms soon. In, maybe like 200 years or so. So fuck touchscreens. You don't like me? Blow me!
As I hold the smartphone in my hand, I'll say, "I like the feel of this shootin' iron."
Then I'll give it a twirl and put it in my holster.
Steve Jobs might jump from behind the counter and yell, "BUY APPLE MAKE YOU KOOL FOOL LOL! OBEY!"
"If ah remember correctly, yore stewpid G5 made me late to a ho-down one taime, and I had to ho a ho down, ya dig? Because it done hang on me, Mr IT-JUST-WORKS-MY-ASS."
Angered by my nonchalant response, Steve Jobs will transform into a renegade unit. A towering behemoth of crappy Apple products such as LISA, NAVI, iCUBE and everything they've made in the past 20 or 30 years.
"Whoo-ee! He's tougher than shoe leather and sharper than a porcupine quill," I'll say.
So I'll jump into my Blackberry Bold 3 and a hot blonde will say, "Ramrod will now take navigational control."
The disembodied voice of Peter Cullen then will say, "Acknowledge, April. Navigational control - ON. Blackberry Challenge Phase - 1. Head 'em up, move 'em out. Power stride, and ready to ride."
After a short battle, I'll vaporise the renegade with my nipple cannons.
Ah, I've always wanted to write a story in the future tense.
I am getting a new phone tomorrow. Already called Maxis and everything seems to be in order.
I don't want Bold Touch because I have a heavy distrust of touchscreen devices. I believe touchscreens are like fax machines - intermediary tech that will soon be obsolete but will still be used by freaks who want to stay in the '70s.
Mark my words. We will all be using motion sensor holograms soon. In, maybe like 200 years or so. So fuck touchscreens. You don't like me? Blow me!
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