My Virtual Chamber Pot For Mental Faeces

Gotta go to work

2008-07-31T22:14:00.002+08:00

It's been quite an adventure...job hunting that is. I never thought it would be so difficult to find a job. I've got a fucking engineering degree dammit. For a while I was actually worried about being able to land a job with an employer that's not retarded. For a while, I wasn't even sure of what I wanted to do with my life. I had all sorts of opportunities, but they weren't first choice.

I was offered a whole new company where I get to call all the shots. I was also offered a position by a competitor to start a division where I'm put in charge. Not very appealing. More responsibility = less sleep. Then I decided to become a full time insurance agent. It was the only fair equation I could see. And then my new employers called me for an interview. I went in for the interview at 8am, dazzled the interviewers with a whole load of smooth talk. By 11.30am I was hired at a salary which I demanded for.

Then I went for a holiday. And now I'm here, both excited and worried at the same time about my first day of work, which is tomorrow morning. I did the smooth talking at the interview, and now I gotta walk the talk. I'm finally an engineer. What that means, I still don't know, because I honestly do not know what it is I'm expected to do at my workplace. I mean, I vaguely know, but until I'm doing it, I really wouldn't know.

I enjoyed being jobless. My responsibilities were little...like washing toilet, washing my car, running errands for my mom, cleaning my room, making sure my bags are properly packed for my holiday...it was like total freedom. Only thing wrong with it is I'm broke. Yes, my ex-employers, be it a company or a pair of individuals, still owe me money. A lot of money.

I ate when I was hungry, I slept when I was sleepy, I played when I wanted to play...I just did whatever the hell I wanted to do, when I wanted to. There were no rules and no parents to nag at me. I think I got a little used to it. I could go on like this forever. But now I have to go to work. I gotta wake up early in the morning for 5 days a week and be at work by 8. Who the fuck works at 8 in the morning? I've been told that the company I work for practices pure bred Japanese workaholism. That means being at work by 8, but coming home way beyond office hours. Alright, I know a lot of you people out there work ridiculous hours. I'm just not excited to be part of it.

To all you fellas whom have been at my side supporting all this while, I just wanna say thank you. Ahhh dammit...gotta go to work...shit.

I'm jobless...and it feeeels so goooood!!

2008-06-23T02:34:00.002+08:00

To be honest, I got fired.

My boss works out my resignation letter for me and says "you're leaving tomorrow". Technically, I can't be fired cos I'm one of "the bosses". So I sign on the dots without much argument. It was quite an exciting feeling. Imagine this...you're all stressed out worrying about all sorts of shit for the company and suddenly, you're relieved of it. That's how I felt...relieved.

Working my way up from a nobody to a "boss" to getting fired all within the same company. Yes, I've experienced it all. Really...how many of you reading this has experienced getting fired?

I got fired. Lol. Why? I don't know and it really doesn't matter to me. I'm having the time of my life right now being jobless. I've spent the last 10 days being in absolute peace. All that matters to me now is that I get my share of the profit as agreed.

So what did I do after becoming jobless? Sleeeeep! Lots of sleep! And then Dota and then sleep and then Dota and more sleep and more sleep. Well, I did go see some people about starting some businesses, all of which honestly doesn't interest me at all. There's good money in there, but I'm not about to become the dumbass to take the minority share and do all the work while the majority share holder just sleeps and waits for the profit. But that's the way it works isn't it? Your boss pays you a shitty salary, and you work your ass off to make him rich.

I guess I've just become lazy. I'm tired. I just want to rest. I just want to be unproductive and exhaust my savings. I want to take that 100 day holiday which I sadly can't. Because recession is here, inflation is a bitch and I ain't rich.

Gotta update that resume and start looking for a job. I'm not sure I'm ready to work for a lesser salary and for someone could perhaps be a dumbass. I've heard stories of incompetent bosses and colleagues, I've personally experienced it, and I know I don't want to be in that shit. But it doesn't look like I have much of a choice do I?

The good news is I'm finally going to become an engineer...I hope.

Aight. Time for more Dota and more sleeeeep!!! Life is GOOOOD!!!

And so I found the balls to do it

2008-05-05T19:01:00.003+08:00

Last week, I finally found the guts to walk up to my boss and say "FUCK YOU LAH!".

So I didn't exactly say that. But I managed to nicely tell him that I'm leaving. I explained to him that I have a dream to chase...and that dream is to become an engineer. Of course that wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough truth. The whole truth is, I'm sick of all of this shit. Feddup!

He was shocked. I was scared shit. Then I started feeling really bad when he didn't get angry about it. I felt bad that he waited quite a while for me to come home and start a business with him. I felt bad that I'm ditching him to handle a business which he doesn't quite understand. But I know this man. He shakes your hand in front of you, and points a gun when he's behind. Realizing this, I didn't feel so bad anymore.

For most of the past 7 months, I've been left to handle this business all alone, only getting help or intervention from him as and when he fancies. Everything that doesn't go right is my burden to take, anything that goes well is his glory and wealth to take. Well, I get a portion of the wealth too, it's just not proportional to the amount of shit I have to take. But that's life innit? You work for a boss, you get paid like you're working for a boss. Until you're really really the boss, you don't get paid like the boss.

I'm sick of having to be responsible for everything, and held accountable for everything when I'm most of the time left without enough authority to do anything about it. I have to answer to clients, suppliers and staff when I'm no position to give an answer. Keeping quiet isn't an option either.

I'm sick of working with the boss who doesn't understand much about the business, leaving me to do the brainwork, and him making the decisions which I have to be responsible for at the end of the day.

I have to increase or decrease manpower on his demand. That makes me the dickhead who spends endless hours interviewing people, and just when we get the right candidate for the right price, he changes his mind..."Fire the fella. You pull the trigger".

Like I said before, I'm the directed director. I have no real power to set the directions. The real director isn't doing much to set a direction. I come to work lost everyday...for the past few months at least.

As for the other half of the truth, I really do want to go back in engineering. I have a dream (scoff at me if you want to). I'm young and qualified. Should I not chase it now, in a few years time, I'd be considered old and qualified, which is pretty useless. I've worked hard enough to complete my education. There really is no point in spending so much time, energy and money into obtaining something which will never be used. It's time to give the last 5 years of invested effort the mileage it deserves.

I'm still yet to find another job tho. I was thinking of taking a long break...something like a 100 days of just fucking around before getting another job.

2008-04-30T19:58:00.003+08:00

The problem with life is, it goes on. What do you do when you reach a point that you're just so sick of it? For a fortunate few, they have the luxury of fucking all when they just had too much. I hope to be one of these people soon.

2008-04-30T19:56:00.001+08:00

I've been thinking about it for quite a bit.

To leave, or not to leave...my job that is. It's even more difficult than leaving a relationship. There's loads of money involved here.

I'm sick, tired and fed up of all the shit that I have to go through everyday. My body feels like it's gonna fall apart. I have no peace of mind. I have no energy left.

BUT...there's a lot of money involved here...enough money to pay off 90% of my study loans. I leave, I won't get it. I stay, I get it, and will have to spend the next year going through the same shit again.

Why another year? Because I have a boss. A boss who perceives every single cent that belongs to the company to be his own. Therefore, taking any of this money even if it's due, would mean I've taken his money, and therefore I either owe him that money, or what he perceives to be an equal amount of effort. You don't know my boss, unless you happen to be another member of the company I slave for.

I'll say it clear. He ain't clean. (like all businessmen...myself included). I'm his accomplice. I've spent a great deal of time and effort (and brilliance perhaps) in helping him execute his dirty master plans. I dare say, (1) he wouldn't have been able to achieve a lot without me and (2) I've helped him earn his millions in many more ways than one. I don't get a share of the millions. I don't get any appreciation for it. I didn't do it for charity either.

The point is, he's a dirty man. And he's the boss. Leaving this company isn't going to be as easy as turning in a letter. Of course, I'll have to either sell my shares off (highly unlikely) or surrender them to him (very likely). Beyond that, fuck knows what he's gonna put into the picture. I'll lose my portion of profit, a sum which I'm willing to sacrifice if it means I'll be able to get out of here, and move on.

I'm a young man. I need to start loading up on relevant work experience before it's too late. Even if it means I have to earn less, because where engineering is concerned, seriously, I'm worth squat. I've got the paper(s), the one which says first class honours. I have the list that indicates that I'm one of the top 6 students in my course. My argument stands. I ain't gonna be able to demand for shit just because I have proven myself academically. No experience = low income = buying experience for a brighter future. Sounds like a plan to me.

I'm comfortable with my income right now. The past 7 months have been a period in my life where my financial problems are the least of my concerns. Leaving this job would mean going back to a poor man's life which I fucking can't afford now. It will though, address my biggest concerns right now - my mental and physical health. I've been on so much sleeping pills for the past few months that the pills just don't work anymore. Diazepam has lost it's therapeutic effects on me. I wake up with bad headaches every morning. I have work dreams at least 5 times a week.

No money but healthy...or healthier at least.
No health, but got money.
I've tried both. I prefer the former.

I think I'll just leave.
I know this one fucking cliche but dudes, it's not how many years you have in your life that counts, but the life in your years.
Now, I have to start thinking about what I'm going to do with my life after leaving this shithole.

I'm just so pissed off today. Gotta whine.

2008-04-16T21:02:00.006+08:00

It's good that not many people read my shit anymore. I only know 2 people who still reads this shit. If you're one of them, thank you for reading my shit. Because there are only so few people who want to read my shit, it makes it easier for me to whine and bitch about everyone and everything and tell all the stories that I want to tell because no one's gonna find out. I could talk about drug abuse...how I consume 50mg of diazepam a day because it feels like fun and the authorities aren't going to do shit about it because no one's gonna know.

So here's to some freedom of speech.

You can say I'm bitter. Plain jealous perhaps. But I think it's really not fair that some people I know are having a better life than I do, and taking credit for everything they have.

I have the highest monthly income among my friends now. It's a good thing no? Well, it's not. I barely get any off days. I work the weekends. I work long hours everyday. I have no annual bonuses (some of you might think that's cool cos I get dividends. Let's just say I'd rather get annual bonuses). I only get the minimum 12% of EPF from my company while many of my friends get more than that. The amount of hours I put in to work is most of the time not proportional to what I earn. Well, this year, it had fucking better be. But that's not my point today.

It really fucking pisses me off when someone tells me how hard he's worked to be where he is and how he's managed to own a house and a car and the whole fucking world and that he's only 26. And take glory for having made himself.

Let's take this above mentioned person for example. He may be the owner the fucking house, but he didn't put the fucking down-payment on it, at least not all of it. Neither did he buy all the fucking furniture in the house. And neither did he pay for the renovation and all that shit. Don't tell me "I just bought a fridge"...cos you fucking didn't. Your mom did. Just because she lives 100 miles away, doesn't mean you own all you have in your little inventory.

Don't take credit if it ain't due.

I ain't stupid. I earn more money than this person does. There is no way this dude can afford to put down-payment for a house, down-payment for a car, service both the loan repayments, pay all the bills, maintain the car, buy the fridge, the washing machine, the dryer, tv, couch, dvd player, remote controlled ceiling fan and still afford a 10 day holiday in Europe...in 1 year.

And this dude...tells me about how much he fucking has and then behaves as though he's been short changed.

The swine even complains about how he ain't paid enough at work and demands for a ridiculous raise, and complains about not getting it. Well, let's be fair. Perhaps that's all you're fucking worth. If you were worth more, then tender the fucking resignation, and see what the counter offer is. Or just go apply for another job that can pay you better if you think you fucking deserve more. Sometimes, people just don't bother to sit back and think about what's so special about themselves that entitles them the God given right to have more.

I've interviewed over 50 different people over a period of 3 months. There were cunts, fresh grads, putting dumbass first class certificates on the desk, demanding for 2500 bucks a month.

And I asked, "Why do you think you deserve 2500 bucks month?".
Dumbass answer is "Cos I'm a top student, it's the standard university graduate salary and I'm willing to learn and work hard".
"But you don't have any prior work experience, and you don't know Flash, or Flex, or Java, which is clearly stated on the job ad", I normally answer.
"But I'm willing to learn and work hard!", they always say.
And I always also say "You're telling me I should pay you that much cos you're willing to learn? I can fucking pay a donkey a fraction of that price and that donkey would also be willing to learn! I don't fucking pay you that kind of money just because of your glorious cert, to come here and learn! I fucking pay for the job to be done! You want to learn, fucking go back to school, and pay to learn! You don't fucking get paid to learn! And fuck knows if you can even learn and contribute back to the company! How's about 1800 bucks?"
The usual reply is, "1900 can?"

Of course, I say it in the nicest of ways. I ain't that rude.

That's the problem with people these days. They just think that they're worth too much.

I know, I complain about my job all the time. But I acknowledge the fact that this is all I'm worth right now, and there's no where else I can earn more money. So I don't go around talking about how much more I should be paid. I just talk about how much less I'd rather be paid, so that I can fucking get a bit more rest.

Anyways, back to this swine. Dude is just one helluva proud dude for having "made himself". Dude, if you're reading this, you didn't fucking have to pay for anything your whole fucking life while you weren't working. Your education came for free. Your clothes were all free. Your food were all free. Your toys were all fucking free. They were all fucking free till the day you started working. And the day you started working, you still got a lot of shit for fucking free. Your parents still feed you in ways you might not want to acknowledge. Your parents still have income, and you have to support neither of them, nor pay for anything that they use.

Dude, if you are reading this, I earn more money than you, I have less than you, and I'm more grateful for it...not because I can't "make myself" they way you did. I have 2 bankrupt parents. I have 2 education loans to pay for. I have bills to pay for. I have to pay for things my parents use. My education didn't come for fucking free. I spent almost 70 thousand bucks for my education. My fucking own money. Well, I mean, of which about 50 thousand is still debt. The point is, be grateful for what you fucking have. You're not paid below market rates, because your market value is only fucking there. If you think you're so fucking good, go start your own business, and earn what you think you deserve to earn. Give yourself the raise you wanna give yourself. Perhaps the reason why you feel you haven't had enough, is because you haven't been put to work hard enough to earn your own shit.

I have one dude in my office. His dad is a gardener earning 1600 bucks a month, and he's got 5 younger siblings. Dude had to do dumbass jobs like work at the petrol station in the small town he lives in to help keep both himself and his family alive and at the same time work out his education. Dude now lives in a tiny lil low cost flat, eats instant noodles and roti canai to save money, has to pay for his edu loans, sends money back home to keep his 5 younger siblings from dying and works like fucking dog for not more than 2000 bucks a month. Dude bought a motorbike, and was so fucking proud of being able to buy that fucking bike. That my friend, is what I call respectable. That's what I call making yourself. Seriously, you ain't made yourself, if you made it with a bigass kick start from your parents. You make yourself, when you make yourself from scratch.

Saturday evening, Still abusing diazepam.

2008-04-12T16:04:00.002+08:00

I had on offer last week, by someone whom I had recently met. Make that an offer and an invitation. This not so young but gorgeous lady whom I got to know while at work, suddenly invites me to join her for a holiday in Yogya. There was no hanky panky before this (not that there is any yet). I didn't call her, nor text her, nor did I take her out on dates or any of that shit. We only saw each other twice a week when I'd swing by her office to do design reviews. So it was quite shocking that someone that hot, whom is 10 years older than I am, would suddenly ask me out for a vacation.

Of course, she asked me to bring some friends along. No one seems to want to join me for it, except Chi. We got our tickets booked. Then it started to make me wonder. Is this woman just making use of me? Well, if it involves good sex, why not? Sometimes we gotta ask ourselves who is using who.

And then comes the offer. She knows I'm hooked to diazepam. For obvious reasons, I don't have a very good supply of this drug. And now I hear from her that she's able to get Hoffman La-Roche's version of it, called Valium, which comes in dosages of 10mg (as opposed to the 5mg ones I'm currently taking) in bulks of 1000 pills for RM73. Because she knows I'm going to abuse it further if I get such a big bulk, she's decided that I'll have to sit down with her for counselling sessions if I'm going to get any at all. Sounds a bit all too good to me.

That's the only perk I'm getting out of work so far...the fact that I meet women (thankfully some are good looking) and that I'm lucky enough to get it on with them (yes, there has been scandal before). I wouldn't be having much of a love life or a sex life or even any form of life at all with shitloads of work I'm put up with that never seems to lessen.

So why diazepam?

It's one thing when your nightmares become realities, and it's really quite another thing when your realities become nightmares...night after night after night. For the past few weeks, I've barely been able to sleep without dreaming that I'm at work...doing the same old shit that I've been doing throughout the day. I wake up in the morning feeling like I just had a 24 hour work shift. Imagine going through that a few days in a row.

My doctor tells me that diazepam cuts down neurologic activity, which means you don't think too much. At times, it makes you quite stupid. I've personally experienced moments when I'm on this shit during working hours when I can't tell the difference between synonyms and antonyms. I've said stupid shit like "Ok, I shall work on a quotation for you based on 7 days leasing and another for rental. OH WAIT! I mean buying and purchasing. OH SHIT! No...I mean 1 quote for purchase and another for leasing". I normally have one before I sleep on nights when I'm really stressed out with the hope of preventing work related dreams from forming while I sleep.

I know. I was suppose to leave this job. But I didn't, or more like didn't bother trying after the cigarette company tells me that I'm not invited for an interview despite having passed their assessment test. There is no place I can go to right now which can afford to give me the income I'm getting right now. Another way to put it is, there is no place which I'm qualified enough to go to right now which can offer me what I'm getting. I'm not greedy. I wouldn't mind a job that pays less in return for a simpler, less hectic life. The problem is, that's not something I can afford right now.

My two parents hardly have any income. I've got a total of 760 bucks worth of study loans to pay for every month. I have a "parents fee" of about 400 bucks. I have bills to pay. I have car that's ever in need of repair and quite sadly, I can't afford to buy another car right now. I have personal debt which thankfully, my debtors are not on my heels for repayment. I give 10% of what I earn to church (again, I have to stress that the church does not demand that I do so. I've made a commitment to God, and I'm not about to fuck that commitment and hope to get away with it).

So for now, I'll just abuse diazepam, or valium, which is coming at a really cheap price.

I'm still a Director, but not a dumbass

2008-03-31T16:28:00.004+08:00

A while back, I decided to leave this company for the cigarette job. Despite passing their assessment shit, I wasn't invited for an interview. I'm not too sure why, and I really don't give a fuck anymore.

So I'm still here...the director who takes directions from his boss and clients.

The title "director" is probably the most dumbass of titles around. All you have to do is own a company...or a part of it, doesn't matter how big or tiny, and that makes you a director, MD, CEO, UFO...whatever the fuck you wanna call yourself.

And then comes the second most dumbass title, "manager". Every fucking tom, dick and harry and not so hairy is a fucking manager these days. Fresh grads come out from university to immediately become a manager. If it's not a manager, then it's management trainee, which also means, manager.

The third most dumbass title is executive. If you're not a director or a manager, then you'd be an executive. It's as low as it gets. My office boy's name card states that he's a "Field Executive". (Just for the record, I wasn't the dumbass who came up with that title)

Most people think a great deal of themselves just because they are a director of a certain sort...Account Director, Communications Director, Event Director, Design Director. And then comes the biggest director title of them all...the one with both the most dumbass titles put together ==> Managing Director or Executive Director. Believe me, a lot of these people with these big dumbass titles are equally as big a dumbass as their titles suggest.

I've met a lot of these dumbasses over the past 2 years. A great deal of them are so fucking incompetent, it's just shocking. But still, they think a great deal of themselves...cos they got the dumbass title.

Sometimes I wish people could go on with their jobs without titles. What's wrong with having a name card that's just that... a card with your name on it...no titles? The guy that cuts my grass has a name card just like that. And he's the boss of his little enterprise. I don't see on his name card, "Siva, CEO".

I'm embarrassed to admit, that I have a name card that really makes me look like a dumbass.

2008-03-14T14:31:00.003+08:00

Everyone has their roles to play. I'm having difficulty shifting from role to the other.

Most of the time it's the role of salesman. At other times it's the role of manager, decision maker, office boy, draftsman, secretary...you name it. Shifting roles within my workspace is not so much of a problem. It's shifting from my role as Alvin Ho, slave of VEIT Sdn Bhd to Alvin Ho, son of Christine and back that's quite a fucking task.

It takes me a good 2-3 hours after I get home from work everyday before I can finally be myself again. The only way to speed up this process is to immediately meet Chi or Koon or anyone who doesn't work in the same office, right after work.

At times when I'm on extremely long shifts (I'm talking about finishing work past 12am and going straight to bed the moment I get home, and then waking up only to march straight back to work, and having this go on for many days in a row), I get so immersed in my role as a slave to the company that I totally forget what it's like to be my mother's son. When I finally do get some time off, I don't know what to do with it, simply because I'm just not quite in touch with myself anymore. Most of the time, I just have no real desire to do anything, because I can't even identify what my desires are. So I just sleep all my free time off.

Then comes the other problem...when I do actually manage to get back to being me. I get so caught up with being me, that when I come to work, I just entirely have no initiative or desire to get any work done...like right now.

Anyone facing a similar problem?

Because I got tagged

2008-02-25T21:01:00.002+08:00

This is one of them crap which I normally preach against. It's not the first time I got tagged, but this will be the first time I'm responding to it.

Sometimes, when you're life is just so full of serious shit, you just gotta do something stupid to bring yourself to a less serious place.

First name: Alvin

Nickname: Eh, Dude, Al, Bogeyman, Ah Boy ah, Ah Chong, Boss, Alvin my man! (one of my client calls me that every time he sees or phones me)

Name u wish u had: Optimus Prime

Birthday: Feb 18

Birthplace: Petaling Jaya

Time of birth: 12.45 pm

Single or taken: Single lah...

Zodiac sign: Aquarius

Your Appearance

How tall r u: 158cm

Wish u were taller: You fucking bet I do

Eye colour: Brown

Eye colour u want: It's not even about eye colour here...I want eyes that can blast laser and see through clothes

Natural hair colour: Black

Current hair colour: Black

Short or long hair: Short

Ever dyed ur hair a bizarre colour: It was some red colour thing for a short while.

Curly,straight or wavy hair: Where? My armpit ah? I got curly straight and wavy all on me lah...you just gotta know where to find it

Last time u did shtg dramatic with ur hair: Last year, I fucked my hair real bad, by trimming it myself in front of a mirror just before going out with a special someone.

Glasses or contacts: Neither. I want the laser blasting ability and can see through clothes ability.

Do u wear make-up: Sometimes lah

Ever had hair extensions: For fucks ah?

Paint ur nails: For fucks ah?

In the opposite gender

What colour eyes: Any colour lah...as long as natural lah. If can blast laser, then I korek the mata and buang.

What colour hair: Any colour lah.

Shy or outgoing: Outgoing with some degree of restraint

Looks or personality: A fair combination of both (physical chemistry is important too)

Sexy or cute: SEXAY!

Serious or fun: Serious when need to be serious, fun when in bed.

Older or younger: I love the older women. But I'm open to younger ones.

A turn on: Wah...this one difficult question...I answer another time

A turn off: Loud, cheap, rough, no class, impatient like fuck, smelly, selfish, rude

I'm not tagging anyone. Just do it if you feel that you have too much serious shit to put up with on a daily basis and need to be bodoh for a while.

Complicated

2008-02-21T18:28:00.005+08:00

I wonder what would happen to me if any my colleagues, partners, clients or suppliers came across this blog. Thankfully, my suppliers can't read English. It becomes difficult when sometimes all you want to do is vent out on your blog, but you have to be careful about what you can or cannot say publicly in fear of getting caught...for being honest.

My clients would definitely have a good laugh when they find out that this young business owner actually dislikes his business, but so effectively puts a good show in making everyone believe otherwise. My colleagues would probably feel happier about being in the shit that their in, knowing that even upper management feels the same way towards work. My partners would probably beat me to death.

Whatever it may be, I've had it. I'm at the verge of a mental breakdown. I still get hardly any rest, and now it's made worse with insomnia. I'm tired as fuck when I go to bed at night, but I can't fucking sleep. If and when I do, I dream that I'm at work, going through the daily shit. Sometimes, it feels as though I've been working every hour of everyday for many weeks at a time.

But thats where these dudes come in.....

Keeps me functioning in an orderly fashion. Helps me sleep at night. All courtesy of the company I work for.

I've just so had it with all the bullshit I have to go through on a daily basis. I used to be the sort of person whom would go through any amount of shit as long as there was a good fuck load of money waiting at the end of the shit. I have no doubt that where I am, there's a good fuck load of money waiting for me, but the amount of shit I have been and will be going through just doesn't justify the cash prize anymore.

I just want to be at peace.

Excuse me for whining

2008-01-21T20:19:00.000+08:00

Seriously ah...maha fucking a lot of work until can die.

I'm being constantly reminded day after day, hour after hour, about why I didn't want this job anymore.

Because maha fucking a lot of work until can die lah.

Damn tak shiok already. Mahai I see all my friends earning more for less hours.

Pukimak betul.

And it gets more complicated

2008-01-18T19:35:00.000+08:00

I want to leave this shit. It's been at the top of my mind for at least the past one month.

When I signed on the black and whites for directorship in this company, I forgot about all the shit that I went through about a year ago, slaving for the boss...simply because I thought there'd be subordinates to take over the work. I do have subordinates (or colleagues or team members or whatever) now to help me with my work. At the same time, I don't. My responsibilities are pretty much the same, except that they've grown a bit too big for my liking.

What's nice about it now is that I'm the boss. What's not nice about it is I'm the boss, whom answers to another boss who happens to be the same boss that was slave driving me like a cow a year ago. With some simple math logic, you'd be able to tell that I'm not really the boss. I'm just the same slave driven slave from a year ago - higher paid with a different title.

You sure ain't wanna to be on top of the organizational hierarchy. Sucks big time. All the shit comes back to you. At least lower level staff have the luxury of telling the clients "This one I think you better talk to my boss". Where I am, I have to take all the shit...all the shit from the clients, all the shit from the suppliers, all the shit from the staff, all the shit from the boss....ALL.

I'm not stupid or am I incapable. Or at least I think I'm not. I could go through all the extremely long hours, difficult situations (my boss calls em challenges) and the attached shit. I just don't want to go through it again. I've done my share of dying for a growing company. I'm tired. I'm also lazy as fuck now.

I went for the assessment at the cigarette company 2 Saturdays ago. 7 candidates, only 1 passed. ME! I'm waiting for the interview and the next assessment. I want this job so badly none of you fuckers understand. But things just keep getting more and more complicated. Soon, I'll be signing on more black and whites, affirming my position in this company as one of the directors. I haven't secured the job at the cigarette company yet, and therefore my only choice is to continue working here as if it's the only choice I got. Right now, it is the only choice I got. I'm getting so deep into shit here right now that even if the cigarette company opportunity were to come by, I wouldn't be able to climb out of the shit fast enough to take hold of it.

I'll wait and see what happens.

The year at a glance

2007-12-31T19:10:00.000+08:00

It's been a good year...despite all the shit that's perpetually in my life.

This year:
1) I got a 4 figure increment in my monthly income.
2) I got a 5 figure paycheque. And no, it wasn't bonus month when it came. Fuck, I didn't even get bonus at all this year.
3) I got promoted. Business Development Executive days are over. It's now Director.
4) I got a Bachelors Degree in Engineering. First fucking class honours.
5) I went to pretty much everywhere I wanted to go and more...England, Scotland, East Malaysia (thrice), China and every other state in Malaysia...though most of it were for work.
6) I got over the ex (surprisingly quick) and fell in love again...well I wasn't exactly in love with a few of them, but a few of them, I was in love with. Tho non of it worked out, it's all cool.
7) I got my mom's approval to work in a cigarette company. In fact, I got her full support and encouragement.

Well, here's where the problems begin...(just when I thought I was starting to have a proper life....)

I love my job. Well, I don't exactly loath it anymore. It's not really the job that's the problem. It's the individuals whom I have to put up with. It can get extremely miserable taking orders from the partner whom in reality is the boss combined with the shit the clients pile up onto the shit that's already on the plate.

I want out. I want to work in the cigarette company. I'm willing to earn less and be at the bottom of the organisational hierarchy if it means I'll get a better life. A life less stressful, less full of shit and less full of fucking myself in the ass for the clients. I'm sick of living this life where I'm answerable to the whims and fancies of the partner/boss every moment my eyes are open. Fuck, it's the same even when my eyes are closed.

I've pretty much made up my mind to leave my big desk...the special white one that's different in size and colour because the person sitting behind it is one of the "bosses". A new year, a new career, a new environment...a new start. Still, I'm hearing these little voices in my head telling me that I could be making a really big mistake.

The problem, in short, is like this...I'm in shit where I am now, and I could be in a lot of shit too should I take this step out of this shit. And the shit is made worse by education loans which installments amount to about 23% of my current monthly income. This amount would increase to about 33% of my monthly income should I leave for the cigarette company.

Also, I don't really want to leave my colleagues. As shit as some of them can be, I do look forward to seeing them everyday...much like how I used to look forward to going to school everyday with the prospect of getting to see Chi and Wan Yew and Say Koon and the chicks and all.

I've always had bad years and good years come one after the other in an alternating fashion. 2006 was shit...amplified. 2007 was fantastic. 2008 looks bleak where I am.

To all you fuckers who still come by here, HAPPY FUCKING 2008!

Ahem.....

2007-11-11T16:51:00.000+08:00

I was suppose to wake up way early this morning to go to church. Not the church which I normally go to where service starts at 11am. This morning, I was to wake up early enough to have a bath and make it in time for the 8.45am service.

I got up at 7.45, snoozed the alarm, woke up again at 7.50, snoozed the alarm again...repeat cycle till 8.10. The next thing I knew, it was 9.45. I still had the choice of getting out of bed to go for the 11am service...but there really isn't a point in getting out of bed on a Sunday morning only to listen a fuckload full of shit sermon. So I slept till 3pm.

And then I got out of bed and decided to get to work.

I was, at what seemed like the pinnacle of productivity on a Sunday afternoon. Then it started raining, and I just decided to ditch all my homework and fuck all. Being lazy and unproductive on a Sunday afternoon is what Sunday afternoons are all about. In fact, that's what all after work hours are all about. I come home from work everyday, around 8-9...sometimes 10 and all I want to do is sleep. I don't even have dinner sometimes. All I look forward to doing after work is eating and then sleeping for 9 hours.

Yes my friends, I still haven't taken the time to catch up with a lot of you. As most of you will notice, I haven't been blogging and neither have I been on msn. I've been busy. Try arriving home from another country on a Wednesday and starting work on Thursday. When I say I've been busy, this includes having sufficient sleep on most days and time set aside for my family...well, my mom only actually...my dad can go fuck himself.

And please, don't send me emails, IMs or any form of text communication in the middle of a work day and expect a reply because it is not in my nature to stop whatever I'm doing to give a reply when I'm in the middle of work. If I do give a late reply, be thankful you got a reply. Complain about the reply being late, and I swear, you will never get another fucking reply...ever. Be rude or abusive to me when I have done you no wrong, and I will....just not do anything. You'll hear from me no more. I will just not do anything...I will not call, not respond, not care and feel no guilt about it.

And when I say I'm busy, I am busy. I do not work a dumbass job where I'm paid by the hour to be braindead, and neither do I work a dumbass job where my being lazy and unproductive has no impact at all on the company.

I am at the beginning of having a proper life. BRB.

Home

2007-10-04T02:00:00.000+08:00

For some reason, I found a whole lot more excitement in coming home than I did leaving. In fact, I didn't feel very much when I left. The last 2 weeks before I left were so full of finishing up work and taking care of the necessary documents and tasks that the whole process of going to Liverpool felt like one big chore. Packing up, checking in at the airport, getting on and off planes, unpacking and then going straight into classes and assignments...there just wasn't any emotion involved. I was pretty much in "just get this shit done and over with" mode.

It was a good feeling to hear Chi's voice over the phone as soon as I landed. It was good to see Koon and the rest of my family waiting at the arrival area. It was good to have rice with curry and sotong and ayam madu again. It's nice to be in an environment where the temperature is nothing to complain about. It was nice seeing everyone today at the mamak and hearing Mei Ping's voice and having a beer at the padang again.

It's just nice to be home.

Life has indeed been good

2007-10-01T09:42:00.000+08:00

In about 20 hours, I'll be on a plane which will take me to Dubai where I'll have to wait for 70 minutes for another plane which will take me back home.

The past 3 weeks has been a blast. All I do is sleep a lot, eat a lot and spend a lot. For 3 weeks, I have enjoyed the luxury of having no real burdens or responsibilities. I do whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want to.

For the past 4 months, I can confidently say that I have received less phone calls than I do on a normal week of work. When my phone beeps indicating that a new text has arrived, I know more or less who it is as there are no more than 5 different people here whom will text me. When it does ring, I can happily answer the phone without having to dread the possibility of the person on the other side demand something from me.

I have grown complacent from all this comfort. I do not feel the urge to put effort into anything which does not result in hedonistic joy. I just want to continue going to bed at 4am, waking up at 4pm then playing Xbox till dinner time, watch tv/listen to my uncle jeff's (who swears more than an army sergeant) stories till 4am and repeat it all over again. There were some days tho when I did wake up at around 12, dressed up and got out of the house and walked around London with the London Underground tube map in hand.

I was starting to get really sick of the cold already, but for some reason for the past few days, I haven't been suffering much from the 15 degree days and 6 degree nights. I think I've gotten used to the cold. If the temperature does rise to about 20 degrees (indoors), my skin starts to itch like a bitch.

I still haven't been to the red light districts yet.
Still haven't got to know the names of any blonde chicks.

Despite having to go back home to all the shit I have to put up with, the uncomfortably hot weather and the horrendous traffic jams, I actually do feel happy to finally be on my way home.

No more money leh.

Yes Addy, it's time to come homeeeeeeee......

2007-09-16T06:36:00.000+08:00

Someone once asked me whether I'd rather the hot or cold weather. Having been stuck with the Malaysian heat for so many years, I quickly answered, "The cold, cos then I won't have to be sweaty all the time. It's also easier to go about business when it's not so damn hot all the time".

Well, be careful with what you wish for innit? It's so fucking fucking cold now...it may not be for others, but it sure as hell is for me. I've had it with this cold weather. It's been a cold summer. Some of the locals say that summer didn't even come this year. It's autumn now, and it's starting to get uncomfortably cold in the evening with temperatures going below 10 degrees late in the night. I still haven't adjusted to this cold weather yet and my fingers and toes are perpetually cold. Putting my hands in my pockets and socks on my feet isn't helping either.

It's been 3 1/2 months already and still I haven't met any big busted blondes yet. Well, at least not any whose names I know. Yep...the scandals are only with the Malaysian Chinese imports. A friend of mine here in London, this half Chinese half Indian girl, invited me over for some small barbecue thing at her place today...seems there were gonna be some of her friends there. I was thrilled! I couldn't wait to meet the blondes. I got there to discover that they were all not blonde, except the one with the beard. And the ones whom were all not blonde, were not hot. At least the food and booze were free.

I've been to almost every tourist site already. And I'm bored. But boredom really isn't much of a problem when you know that when the boredom ends, you're gonna be a busy shit dumb arse working 14 days a week. I'm broke, that's what the problem is....>> No more money.

So yeah...it's time to come home innit?

Don't wanna go home...

2007-09-06T01:43:00.000+08:00

I'll be evicted on friday morning at 10am. I should be packing now but I really just don't feel like it.

I finally took the last exam paper I'll ever take for the rest of my life yesterday morning. It felt different this time around. Normally, I'd be all stressed up vomiting and getting nightmares just before an exam paper. One thing that hasn't changed is that I don't get peaceful sleep on the night before an exam paper. Yesterday morning, I slept at 6 and woke up at 7. Instead of taking one last look at my notes, I did what I haven't done in forever... read people's blogs.

Half an hour before exam time, I got off my ass, washed my face, brushed my teeth, shaved my face, put on my best clothes and sprayed on some cologne. It was my last exam ever...I had to look good. I got to the exam venue 5 minutes before we were ushered in. It's been too long since I last felt the combination of excitement and fear that I normally get while walking into an exam hall. I sat down and said the 'God I'm so sorry for being a jerk, please bless me with exam questions which I have the answers for and a good clear mind to answer them correctly" prayer. I said Amen, went through the exam questions and yelled KUMBAYA! Well, it was a mental yell. It appears I have been forgiven and blessed.
This time, I found myself being able to answer all the questions I needed to. I was so excited that for the first 10 minutes of the exam, my hand was quivering. It didn't help that the dude sitting next to me had extremely bad breath and my concentration was constantly being interrupted by batches of oral stink bombs.
Half an hour into the exams, I found myself having too much to write and calculate and time wasn't being as forgiving as God. So I wrote faster and faster while at the same time using all known forms of kung fu to dodge the waves of oral stink bombs which were coming at me. I was typing on the calculator so quickly without even looking at it that the invigilator stood next to my table and watched in amazement. Even I was amazed that I could input so many numbers at a time correctly without looking at the keypad. Equally amazing was that I wasn't even looking at the screen.

"Alright, times up. Stop writing" said the kwai lo. Unable to secure the last 12 marks of the paper, I willingly surrendered to time and took a quick look through my answer sheet. It appears that in the midst of writing faster and faster, typing on the calculator blindfolded and dodging stink bombs at the same time, I had produced 10 pages of text which uncannily resembles the contents of the holy Quran.

So here I am now, finally done with my degree...FINALLY! I am now a mechanical and manufacturing engineering degree holder. I've been waiting for this moment forever...the moment when I can start to not think about my education anymore. It has finally arrived. Now what?

I ought to be packing my stuff up right now but I think I'll just sit here a little longer. Sometimes, all a man wants to do is sit back, relax and fuck all.

Merdeka. Bollocks.

2007-09-01T02:51:00.000+08:00

Merdeka. 50 years of independence.

Right.

It's no secret I'm not a person who loves, supports, and defends his country and its interests with devotion. There's really nothing I'd stand up or die for where my country is concerned. I don't love my country. Thing is, I don't exactly hate it either. It's the reason why I'm going home in a few weeks time. I'll never be prime minister even if I deserved it. So what? Fuck that "cannot become PM because I'm non bumi" shit. I don't want to be PM. I just want to be rich and right now, there isn't any where else in the world which offers me that opportunity.

One of my friends puts it this way - "We all in Malaysia got nothing lah. Nationality also don't have. We're just Malaysian PR holder only...second class citizen...go anywhere in the world also can get."

Malaysia is fucked up. No doubt.
But where things are fucked up, there's much room for things to get better. It's just sad that there isn't anyone in power right now to make that happen. I doubt anyone in the right shoes even cares about making Malaysia a better place. All I care about is making as much money as I can and having a good life. Keep Malaysia the way it is, and I'll be having a good life soon enough.

Because I have nothing better to do with my life right now

2007-08-25T12:05:00.000+08:00

It's 5a.m. and I can't sleep.

So I don't want to go home. Nobody does. Everyone's planning to apply for the International Graduate Scheme to get a job here so that they'll never have to go home. Life here is cheap, depending on where you live. Of course Liverpool is a lot cheaper than London, from what I've heard. So let's leave London out of this.

Let's say I earn 1400 pounds a month. The rental for a decent room will not cost more than 350 pounds a month. And so what if it does? Groceries here are bluddy cheap! I spend no more than 100 pounds a month of food. That includes stocking up the fridge/freezer and cupboard with all sorts of crap, and eating out at least 2 times a week. So far, I only spend about 60 pounds a month on food. For 15 pounds, I can have a really good time clubbing. For 5 pounds, I can get myself a pack of cigarettes. For 1 pound, I can get myself a litre of the most expensive diesel/petrol out there right now. A full tank in a Proton Wira would only cost about 40 pounds. For 1 pound, I can get myself a lot of stuff.

Just go to Poundland. You'll be surprised to see lots of useful stuff in there. Shampoo, soap, biscuits, breakfast cereal, stationery, tools, plasticware...all sorts, and some of them even come in multiples.

A Proton Gen 2 only costs 9995 pounds. If I only earn 1400 pounds a month, why can't I afford to buy a Gen 2? For those of you doing the mental calculations and converting prices here to MYR, stop!

Back at home, if I had a monthly income of 1400 (which I did, and thankfully don't have anymore), I'd still have to pay something like 350 bucks a month for a room. Cigarettes are now 8.10 a pack (did I get that right? The prices went up when I got here). I can't do shit clubbing with 15 ringgit. A litre of petrol costs 1.92, and a Gen 2 costs (I don't even have to get the figures right to prove my point here) more than 4ok ringgit. And you don't see no Ringgitland in Malaysia do you?

But there's the problem of taxes. People in developed countries like England pay a lot in taxes. Well so do the fucking Malaysians. And we've got like a variety of them too. Road tax, cukai pintu, cukai tanah, income tax...well, that's all the taxes I know of actually. But still, think about the unthinkable number of toll booths we have to put up with in the city? If it costs me 1.60 of toll to get to work, that's 3.20 a day. Assuming I only work 5 days a week, and pass no other toll booths other than the ones I do on the way to and from work, that's 64 ringgit a month. That's 4.5% of my miserable 1400 ringgit income already. And I haven't even used other roads with tollbooths yet? People in England would jump for joy to get 4.5% reduction on their taxes. I'd jump for joy to pay 4.5% extra in taxes if I need not pay toll anymore except unless it's an interstate highway.

I met a forklift driver while I was in Leeds who earns 8 pounds an hour. That's a pack of cigarettes AND 3 bottles of beer per hour! If I were a forklift driver in Malaysia, I'd be earning either half a pack of cigarettes OR half a bottle of beer per hour. I'd be lucky if my hourly wage even earns me a plate of chicken rice and a drink. OK! So the forklift driver in Leeds has to at worst, give 30% of his income to the government. Fine, give a bottle of beer and 12 sticks of cigarettes from his hourly wage to the government then. He still has more than enough for himself.

I'll stop here. I've spent the last 25 minutes trying to prove what everyone's proven before. I'm just trying to make it clear to you morons who think living in the UK is expensive just because you're spending your parents' hard earned ringgit.

It's very tempting. It makes me not want to go home. I might never be a successful big timer rich man here, but I'll have an extremely comfortable life here. 9-5 job to have me set for the rest of my life. Back home, I have to work from 9-9-9 just to keep all the bills, loans and vices paid.

But there's that little hope I'm clinging on to. The hope that the company in which I hold a certain percentage of shares, combined with a directorship and a much healthier than 1400 ringgit a month income will perhaps bring me down the road to becoming a successful big timer rich man. It's how I always wanted it to be. To be at the helm of my own ship (well okay, I gotta share it with someone else), and earn big big bucks using my very own home brewed sneeky ways (and of course, the partner who is even sneekier) and just make it so so so so so fukn big and then!...and then laugh at all the other people who went to prestigious universities, spent craploads of their parents' hard earned ringgit to study overseas and ended with nothing more than a job with a shitty monthly income that can't even make back the craploads of their parents' money even after years and years...or even worse...those who graduated and don't have proper jobs.

It does worry the shit out of me sometimes tho. What if it fails? Will I end up being 28 years old, broke and applying for graduate engineer jobs with graduate engineer wages? Or even worse....33 years old and applying for graduate engineer jobs and blablabla. I don't want to be 33 years old, broke and saying "I should have applied for the International Graduate Scheme. I could be working 9-5 in a country where I can take a walk out in the sun and not be drenched with sweat, where the people are polite, and eat only broccoli,baked beans and potatoes".

The reality is, here I am spending my own hard earned ringgit (well half of the ringgit I'm spending now is actually from a study loan) on a degree I don't need and when I'm done with my shit here, I'll be going back to a job with a shitty monthly income that will take quite a while to earn back the crapload of ringgit I spent here. Who's gonna be laughing at who then?

And so it ends.

2007-08-25T04:34:00.000+08:00

The peace which I have been blessed with for the past seven days, that is.

This is the little hallway. 3 rooms on the left, 3 rooms on the right. Normally, it would be filled with unnecessary amounts of noise. For the past week, it has just been quiet.

Mr. Tick left for Sheffield, while everyone else took off on their Scotland-Wales road trip around this time last week, leaving me all alone in this little flat. Going to Sheffield for the weekend wasn't much of an option since everyone in Sheffield were already busy preparing for their finals. So I stayed here, all alone.

It was nice!

For a good 3 days I had this flat all to myself.
I took a bath without closing the door.
I took a crap without closing the door.
I pretty much did whatever the hell I wanted to.

Mr. Tick returned on Monday and that made the 2 of us in this house. Still, the hallway was quiet because Mr. Tick is either playing computer games in his room, cooking up a meal in the kitchen, having a bath, sleeping or just doing something that doesn't include polluting the hallway with noise in his activity.

For the next few days after Mr. Tick's return, life remained nice and quiet, with the exception of the time when he vacuumed the hallway. But that was necessary noise, so it's cool.

The hallway which leads to the kitchen is that narrow...a wee bit wider than the kitchen door. It doesn't help that the walls are thick full of air. Imagine 5-6 overgrown children yelling and laughing in the hallway. There really isn't any place for the noise to go except through the walls and into the rooms.

Now that everyone's home, the hallway is once again polluted with all sorts of noise....bellowing oxen, cackling hyenas, whistling....it's a farm I live in.

My flatmates...they're not bad people. Perhaps some of the most good hearted people I know and perhaps, the noisiest bunch of human beings alive today.

I'd like to say I'm glad all this will be over very soon.
But I don't want to go home.
I don't want to go back to my job.
I don't want to leave this beautiful place.
But I also don't want to be living here any longer.
Should I be glad to be coming home soon?

Whistlaraoke

2007-07-24T06:03:00.000+08:00

There's something about the sound of whistling that just totalfuckingly drives me up the walls. I find it to be noise pollution in one of its vilest forms. Crude and rude. Vulgar even.

There probably isn't anything more annoying right now than having been kicked out of slumber by the sounds of really distasteful tunes at unnecessarily high volumes, accompanied by that sound...that fucking cipet mahai oh please will you fuckers just stop whistling!

What's amazing about it is the level at which these people (yup, it's plural. there's more than one source to this utterly repulsive form of melody production) can produce this detestable sound.

What's perhaps even more amazing is the level of consideration these people have towards their neighbours. Sometimes I wonder whether these people actually have any regard towards those living around them.

If I could, with one line, illustrate the relationship between the level of whistling to the level of regard these people have towards their housemates, it'd look something like this.

Graph 1.1: Level of whistling (dB) vs. Level of consideration some assholes have towards other housemates

I'm fine with the loud music. Blast it as you please. Just keep your distasteful tunes out of the whole fucking hallway and my room. A simple solution would be to close your fucking room door when you're in one of your I-need-loud-romance moments. Also, don't be blasting your I-need-love-tonight tunes with your room door open while you're in the kitchen listening to the ensemble of pots, pans, crackling oil and the fumehood...everyday.

And please oh fucking please, do not lace those already objectionable tunes with the sound of whistling. It's already absolutely rude for oneself to be polluting the house with such music. It's even more offensive to have those tunes whistled along to at door penetrating levels.

It's like bad karaoke. Imagine your neighbour doing really loud karaoke...like crap. Your neighbour knows you can hear him/her, and has no regard for your comfort. Only difference here is, this is whistlaraoke.

I don't want to publicly place labels on anyone. But I've been driven to the limit with the antics I have to put up with on a daily basis. This one I mention today is just one of the many shenanigans that gets my temper going.

What a bunch of Chinamen.

For the sake of peace at home, I have to squeeze my balls and keep all that I want to say in their faces limited to the borders of this blog.

It's 12.44a.m. I can't hear the whistling anymore. Probably because I've got Anberlin's '*fin' blasting loud enough to wake the dead. (I've got a three piece speaker system here that's pretty fucking smashing). It's massively loud and I couldn't give a fucking fuck. It's my only defense against whistlaraoke.

And the lecturers here have a good sense of humour too

2007-07-20T03:40:00.001+08:00

I downloaded a 3d model of a test dummy off the uni's e-blackboard thing. Upon opening the file, one will see this.

Zoom in and one will see this.

Lol.

( I can't figure out a title for this one either)__

2007-07-19T06:16:00.000+08:00

Perhaps I took a break from being a student for a bit too long. I've forgotten how much a job being a student can be. An engineering student that is.

Classes were suppose to be only 4 hours a day but because there's so much to learn, I spent a good 3 weeks staying back in uni till the lab closes. That meant being at uni from 9-5, 5 days a week. And on days when the lab was open till 9, I'll be there till at least 8. The day doesn't end there. Because computational fluid dynamics requires hours of cpu processing power, work continues at home.

I was told this was going to be a crash course by some. Others told me it was gonna be a breeze. Well those who told me this was gonna be some summer holiday were the ones studying at Sheffield. Here in this uni in Liverpool, I'm constantly choked up with assignments.

I always believed that it's much easier to score when most of your course marks comes from coursework instead of exams. Well it's fucking true. It's so much easier to rake in marks by talking as though you really know your shit during the presentations. To the lecturers, you're right if you sound all fucking right.

I also forgot how much of a holiday being a student can be. It's a real pain having to stay up late every night and staying in during the weekends to finish up on assignments. It's also a real joy being able to live at least a day without having any responsibilities at all beside eating, bathing and sleeping, after turning in a whole load of assignments. It's something I hardly ever come by, having had to work 7 days a week most of the year for a good 15 months. I never had a day in my life in my last job that gave me the chance to be free of any responsibility, even on a Sunday. That's why I chose to ditch it although it gave me that five figure paycheque. And because the prospects have gotten better, I'll be going back to that job as soon as I get back to Malaysia. Only difference is, life is going to get worse.

So here I am, in Liverpool. I don't want go home. My room is a lot smaller here. I have to live with 5 other people in this house with only 2 bathrooms. It's a total fucking pain in the ass to live with someone who leaves his door open, leaves his stereo blasting at the top of its magnets, and then disappears to the devil knows where....almost daily. It's also quite a job to have to keep track of how many clean underwear I have left so won't have to wake up one morning and have to turn the one I'm wearing inside out.
Cooking, laundry and house keeping (I've somehow managed to keep my room here extremely neat and tidy and clean) itself takes up quite a significant amount of time a week.

So then it hit me. It's been a long time since I last had a place of my own, or at least, a place which didn't have my whole family in it.
I love it. I love living away from my family. It's the one luxury I had for a few years. And now I have it again. I do any damn thing I want to do, and no one is going to tell me no. And even if anyone did, I can simply tell them to fuck off. Can't do that with my mom you know.

6 weeks till this is all over. 6 weeks till my student life ends for good.

I'd like to be where I am now for at least another year.

(I really couldn't bother spending another second thinking up a title for this one)

2007-07-07T08:39:00.000+08:00

It's suppose to be hot here because it's summer. But it's fucking freezing. I'm having an Australian winter here. Look.

Liverpool

Perth

It's fuckin summer here but it's colder than the other side of the world where it's winter now.
It's not all that bad tho. It's nice to be able to go jogging without having to end up all sweaty. I can even go to sleep after that without first having a bath. Dirty you say? But I didn't sweat a fucking drop. So why should I need to have a bath first? I go to sleep after a jog, just as clean as I was before the jog.

The Brits really like talking about the weather. I finally understand why. The weather around here changes faster than the mood of the person I was last with. It's a pain in the ass really. 3 weeks ago in Chester, it rained and then stopped for like a few minutes then it drizzled for a while before taking a break and starting off again. The same routine 2 weeks ago at Alton Towers and Manchester.

Speaking of Manchester, I was at Old Trafford last weekend. There they were, all them crazy MU fans taking pictures and purchasing merchandise. Utter bollocks if you ask me. I spent a good 1.90GBP getting dragged to some place I didn't want to go just because everyone else wanted to. What's up with football anyway? Is it all that special? Well, David Beckham and whoever else the fuck the general public deem as a ball kicking legends are just...ball kicking legends. How special is that? I'll tell you what's special. Transforming into a red fucking truck. Stop worshipping footballers. Worship this man instead.

And here I am, half way across the globe, where the hardcore transforming action isn't. I've waited all my life to watch Transformers in living colour...not just watching it on any screen. It has to be one big fucking ass screen with surround sound. But here I am, waiting for it to reach the UK. What if it only reaches here when I'm not here anymore? Or what if I get hit by a fucking big red truck before I get the chance to watch it? Then I'll be like cannot go to heaven innit? Aih

Fucked - one man's definition

2007-06-26T03:36:00.000+08:00

Let's say you just did a whole load of work on the lab computer. A whole days worth of shit. 15 minutes before the lab closes, a message appears telling you that the system is going to shutdown and all you got is 15 minutes to save your work. 928mb of work comprising many many little files moving over to your thumbdrive at USB1.1 speed. Rebooting the computer to continue file transfers is not an option because your files won't be there anymore.

Just a while ago, I got fucked.

Liverpool

2007-06-06T23:19:00.000+08:00

It took me 20 hours to get here.

I like the way almost everything is around here. The roads are always so empty. There's hardly any build up of traffic anywhere...at least that's the way it is at every place I've been so far. The people are extremely friendly. The air is really clean...well at least it's a whole lot cleaner than the air in back in PJ. And the air is also cold. Some were telling me it's gonna be hot in summer so I won't need to worry about the cold, while some were telling me that it's going to be cold even in summer. I don't know how much hotter is it going to get, but since I got here, it's been cold. On the tour bus yesterday, the tour guide was complaining about the heat. I think it was like 23 degrees or something yesterday. And she asked how hot does it normally get in Malaysia. And someone said 28-34 degrees and the woman was like "28 degrees? I'd faint if it got that hot".

Right.

The Brits are complaining about the heat while I'm complaining about the cold.

2 nights ago I went to the city centre to take a look at the night life. Surprisingly, them Brits are busy partying even on Monday nights. Some half drunk lady came up to me and my friends and asked us where we were going. And we told her that we were just going for a walk and she said "WHAT? A WALK? COME ON! DO THIS WITH ME...ONE FEET IN FRONT OF THE OTHER ALL THE WAY TO THE PUB!". We didn't do as she did. So we walked and walked and walked and then we reached to where the party was happening. Loads and loads of scantily clad bitches. The first question on my mind was, aren't they cold? I was freezing under my jacket and they were like under thin tops with no bra and hot pants.

And then this lady walked up to me and invited me to join her for a party. And then her friend came from around the corner, saw her talking to me and said "O look, he's smaller than I am! Look look, there is such thing as a smaller person than me". Seeing that she had only some small peice of cloth to cover her boobs, I asked "Aren't you feeling cold?" and she say to me "Are you?" and I say "I'm freezing!" and she say "O you poor luv...come ere and lemme giv ya a hug". And so we hugged. And then they thought it'd be nice if we got a picture together. And then I thought maybe this is the red light district everyone was talking about...I'M HERE....THE RED LIGHT DISTRICT! Turns out I wasn't. Those ladies weren't hookers.

And then we got on to walking and went into pub where there were really funny stage games going on.

The first game I saw had 3 guys and 1 girl. 2 dudes had to sit on the chair and hold some sticks between their legs with the words "I'm a wanker" on em while the other guy and the girl had to use some cloth to wipe it off in a wank fashion. From where I was standing, it looked like some hardcore wanking action. The first person who manages to wipe the stick clean was crowned the King of Wankers. In last night's case, it was a Queen of Wankers.

30 minutes break.

And then the next game involved 4 guys and 4 girls. The 4 guys had to stand on 4 seperate chairs with their backs facing each others' while the girls were to walk around them while the music played. When the music stopped, the girls were to strip an article of clothing off. This went on till all 4 men were butt naked with all their clothes stacked up in a pile. The next part of the game saw them in a race to dress up. The first person to do so wins. And it doesn't stop there, the winner had to sit on a chair with his hands tucked behind while the girls took turns to give him a lap dance. After every girl got their turn, the emcee would go grab his crotch to see if he's stiff. And the first girl to make him stiff, wins.

Strip your men!

Watch em dress up...really really fast!

Then dance for them.

Then there was this other game (guys, we really ought to try some of these out), where 2 men had to strip down to nothing, while 2 girls waxed their entire bodies...including the feathers off the bird.

Wax your men!

Then came the event everyone waited for all night. The wet t-shirt contest! 7 girls, 2 just in bras, while the other 5 were in nothing but t-shirts and well, the emcee let them keep their panties on. It was hot before it even started. Them shirts were all torn across their breasts, so that meant, all them boobies were hanging out of the shirts even before they got wet. Then it started. First jugs and jugs of water were splashed on them while they danced to some music, and then came the climax...the champagne spray! No pictures. But I got something better. It’s called a video! (Mind you, all the contestants are paying customers)

Classes just started today. 4 hours of classes a day, 4 days a week. That makes 16 hours a week. I used to know people who had less than 16 hours a week and they were like complaining like fuckers. There really isn’t anything to be complaining about when you have only so few hours of classes a week…fuckers.

While at uni I had a little chat with some lady sitting on a bench just outside the entrance. She tells me that summer won’t get any hotter than 27 degrees. And that’s too hot already. She says it’ll be just about 20-22 degrees for most of the days. And that’s maximum temperature. She tells me that on rainy nights, it’d go down to 5 degrees.

Looking forward to warmer days.

.....

2007-02-16T14:07:00.000+08:00

In a few hours time, I'll be on my way to the dreadful dungeon my father calls his hometown. Without wheels - crippled, without internet - bored, without DoTa - miserable, without tv...no wait I will have tv, but all I get to watch are CNY programs - I'd rather no tv, without fags - sigh. I'll just have fucking nothing but boredom for the next 5 days. I was lucky enough to squeeze myself out of it last year because during CNY last year I was a student in the midst of exams.

In a few hours time I'll have to rush home and pack up as I haven't packed shit. It's also this few hours that I'll have to finish up all the work I have which is quite a fucking ridiculous shit pile to clean out. But I'm fucking all of it for this 15 minutes. I just don't feel like doing shit right now.

2 days ago, I was suppose to be on a hot date with a special someone. We had the dinner and movie and everything planned up. 3 days ago I was told by Cowboy Wong the designer that we got a company dinner on Valentines. We ended up in some dodgy chinese restaurant because my genius of a boss decides to have our company dinner on a day when all the places with fine dining only caters to couples or are already fully booked. I was dumbfuck enough to skip on my date in exchange for fine dining for free. I should have gone on the date.

I sat down and started thinking about the events which took place on Feb 14 last year. The more I thought about it, the more miserable I felt. Until....

It didn't matter whether that came from a queer or girl, my mood was lifted instantly. I called back to see who it was. It wasn't a queer.

2 days from now, I'll turn 23. Never thought I'll reach 23 without having completed my degree. I feel uneducated.

Right now, I'm blogging shit that no one cares about.

I'll turn into a blogmoron before I turn 23.

And today I blogeth

2007-02-13T00:20:00.000+08:00

Currently abusing: Diazepam
Anyone knows how I can get more without having to see a doctor?

Today I decide to blog. But what the fuck for? Well, I don't fucking know. Everyone has their reasons for blogging. I just don't know what mine is anymore. So I took a stroll down blog street to get a little idea on why people blog.

Well some people just blog because they don't have a fucking life. These people lead submediocre lives in which nothing worth talking about ever happens. And they know it. But they can't accept. So they blog all about the boring shit that goes on in their daily lives that no one really cares about...except that they make it sound like one fucking big deal.

Then there are those who claim their lives to be of great privacy, but yet pens down every wee detail of their lives. From just reading their blogs, you will know what they had for breakfast, lunch and dinner, where these meals took place, where they work and what they do for a living, where they live, whom they live with, how many pairs of shoes they've bought for the month...every fucking thing. All stalkers have to do to know everything about the person they're stalking is to read the person's blog.
And these people actually blog every single day. Where the fuck do they find the time to pen down all this shit on a daily basis? An indication of closetattentionwhoretitis.

Some of the blogs I've visited today are full of nothing but hot sexy chicks clad in cleavage bearing tops. These blogs are owned by non other than the hot sexy chicks clad in cleavage bearing tops. These chicks are just quite simply trying to promote themselves. But they're alright. At least they've got some real (and I fucking mean real) cleavage to show and no cellulite at the back of their thighs. I've strolled by some blogs with pictures of chicks(hens or whatever) with thunder thighs and subquality cleavage clinging onto every damn Tom, Dick and Harry and not so hairy trying to look happening. Well, it ain't so happening. Unless you're a loose goose.

Among the blogs which I came across today during my cyber stroll, were the ones with propaganda. These ones I don't mind reading.

There are also those who use their blogs as a shield for their insecurity. To quite simply put it, every bit of their blog says "I live in big fucking time denial".

I could go on forever.

So why is it do I blog for? I still don't fucking know at all. Maybe it's because I'm just too fucking bored.

Glossary

Closetattentionwhoretitis:

Clos-et-at-ten-tion-whore-ti-tis [kloz-it-uh-ten-shuhn-hohr-tahy-tis]

-noun

1) a disease in which its bearer appears to be an individual who pretends to dislike attention or dislikes having to disclose any personal information on grounds of being an invidual with dignity and integrity but in actual fact, its bearer damn fucking maha loves attention and has a burning desire to make every bit of himself/herself known to the world

October

2006-10-31T23:50:00.000+08:00

Listening to : Pete Teo's Television.
Yes, you can listen to the television. Just pretend it's a radio.
I bought the original cd.
I support the local music industry. Damn right.

The year has been pretty much shit. For a while it seemed like the bestest year in my life since 1993.

With the first half of October on a variety of drugs, the second half just seemed to be a whole lot happier. Or maybe it was just the composition of activities that came by.

1) Edwin gets waxed.

Watch as Edwin squirms and squeals while hot dripping wax comes right at him.

This wasn't part of the agenda, but everyone had a good time watching him.

2) Oktober fest = One Buck Beer (If only it were One Buck Fuck)

That's right. One buck for a bottle of beer. Gimmick was that we had to finish our first bottle of beer, and return that bottle in order to get the next. And there were like 300 other people trying to get a piece of the 1000 bottles of one buck booze. So this year, we got there early. Early enough to be the first twenty people standing in line. As soon as we got out first bottle, we rushed to the back of the line. We drank up as we went through the long queue. Well, it seemed like a long queue. Within 5 minutes of rejoining the queue, we reached a point in the line where there was a security guard whose job was to make sure people were carrying empty bottles. That meant we had to finish. So we finished. Except for the girl and...well, that girl's bf. Can't blame the girl.

3) 10 minute rock star

Dood. Wanna play the piano for Ash?
Who is Ash?
Some Malaysian Idol finalist lah. He's got this gig this sunday. Needs keys
Okay.
Cool. Practice on Thurs and Fri.

And I thought it was some hopeless ex M'sian Idol finalist. Turns out this dude can really sing.

Practice sessions were fun. Studio was fantastic. It had everything. For 40 bucks an hour, it's fucking good value for money.

Bass amp as tall as I am

Drum setup that's worth more than my car

Mixers and amps built into the wall

Sunday came. Crowd of 500. Turns out this was some Dato's private birthday party. We played a flawless gig. Gig included a free 10 course dinner and lots of booze.

November, then December and that'd be the end of my shitty year.

My Kryptonite is a woman...and she ain't my mother

2006-10-16T18:07:00.000+08:00

So was it worth trying? I guess it was. At some point I did give up because I just felt that trying and trying was just pointless. The outcome seemed pretty obvious by then and I felt no regret. But things didn't turn out as expected. The outcome was the opposite of the obvious, which was a really good thing.

So I thought.

What appeared to be something beautiful turned out to be something really really ugly...or at least that's what it evolved into.

So before I go any further...
No one wants to read emo shit on anyone's blog. Not even me.
Some people are just too proud or tough to be emo even on their own blogs.
That would include me. Today, I'll just take leave from being proud and tough and say,
I can't take this shit anymore. I'm going to be emo. Besides, this is where I'm suppose to unload my mental faeces.

I'm depressed.
I can't go through more than 30 minutes without thinking about her.
I can't sleep at night without a good dosage of alcohol or sleeping pills or having been at work all day and out all night and coming back with just enough energy to wash my face.

Awake on bed = thinking about her.
Asleep on bed = dreaming about her.
Nap on table during lunch break = the same nightmares.

It doesn't help that there's so much work to do that I'm getting calls even after dinner.

I've tried praying, watching tv, listening to music, talking to friends, playing the piano, computer games, driving like a mad mofo with the stereo at door-shaking audio levels, getting feeled up by the mummy at the karaoke joint next to the 7-11 and medication. I've tried it all. Nothing's helping.
I went back to the doctor and asked him "Eh man, you fuckn givin me placebos issit?" and with a serious look, he said "Those pills are real stuff man. Don't take more than I told you to".

About the mummy at the karaoke joint...I was actually the victim.

I know all the facts. My brain agrees with them. My heart doesn't.
This is what my mom has been talking about. But the hell she knows. My dad was her first love.

Immi asks, "How did you let a woman mess you up until like that man? All this shit just for a woman?".

I dunno lah. I just want to have some booze...NOW!!!!

Happy birthday to the hot kindergarten teacher

2006-10-12T14:26:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, she sent me this text:

"So d thing is now i got this boy here..that's movin his birdy while sayin chap chap chap chap.. i ask him what's that he sayin..he said put inside..hahaha"

Kids these days...
Kindergarten teachers these days...
lol

Happy birthday Eve.

Exhausted.

2006-10-09T00:18:00.000+08:00

Mentally, emotionally and now financially.

I spent 2700 bucks in 3 days. Doing what? I don't even earn that much. Well I did this month.
I thought I had it...deposit for uni next year.
Then I started thinking about a new electric guitar since the one I have now is half dead.
But all I really intended to buy on was a fucking badminton racket. Now even that, I cannot afford.

So what did I do with 2700 bucks.

911 = car maintanence
700 = road tax + insurance
200 = I love my mom
105 = monthly parking pass
50 = hutang
120 = mooncakes for clients (at least this one will be reimbursed)
50 = gas
370 = church
194 = misc

My bank account balance reads 9xx.xx.
That's all I got to live with for the rest of the month.

All I wanted was a fucking badminton racket....just a fucking badminton racket.

I love older women....

2006-10-07T21:14:00.000+08:00

I really do. I have in the past dated women in the range of 1- 3 years older than I am. It just seems to me that older women look at the things that really do matter. I'm not saying that all younger women are frivolous empty headed creatures. Just that for some reason, the younger girls I've been with before, are. Or maybe it was just that one?

About 1 1/2 years ago, I met this hot chick online. We exchanged phone numbers but I never bothered calling...coz I'm like damn fucking busy all the time. Then one day I got a call from her and at that time, her phone number wasn't saved in my hp. So I didn't know who it was lah. The first time I heard her voice, I felt the earth tremble.

I pressed the green button and I say "Hello".
And then she say to me "Fuuckkerrrr...take my number already then never call lah...you fuuuckkkerrr."

I was shocked. Coz I mean like mahai...in the middle of work then suddenly someone call me up and talk like that somemore I dunno who and the voice so sexy wor.

We went out a few times. She is mature, funny, caring, down to earth, sincere...blablabla all that wholesome goodness shit lah...sometimes a bit vulgar but I like that...and tall. And oh...she's busty too. Damn hot.

Say hello to Addy.

She's too tall and old for me. I no chance. Cibai.

We went out for dinner two nights ago. We had a good time. She bought me a special gift.

A miniature Martini. So that I can have it on the go. Like in the middle of one fucking stressful work day, I can just pull it out of my pocket, have a quick sip, relax a bit and bounce right back to work.

This is what I call caring lah. She knows that I'm damn stressed, and sometimes got heartache problem and shit like that. So she gets me something that can help me.

Addy, I love you so so so so much. Mwah Mwah Mwah mmmmm......

It's been a while...

2006-10-03T16:09:00.000+08:00

I've been away from here for too long.
This place should have been deserted by now. But there are still people coming here.
There actually are people whom have been bugging me to update this shit. People whom I didn't think would even bother coming at all.

Now I'm back. I'm feeling nasty. I have viewers. I have pictures.

I'll keep the nasty ones away for now. Let's begin with this one. 5 bucks for the person who can guess what I'm doing. If I've already told you what it was I'm doing, you can't play this game.

What was it that was in my head again?

2006-07-31T02:02:00.000+08:00

Hmm....
I forgot.
I went to 1u earlier tonight to fix up some shit at the Watson's. I drove straight home, but I didn't come home. Thinking that she'd be asleep by that time because she's got an 8am class tomorrow, I turned to the padang, and started scrolling through my phonebook looking for company while I drove around the padang....and round and round and around again. But everyone I know is busy with their darlings. But I don't wanna go home and keep mine up. I came home later in the night to discover that she only went to sleep at 2(melbourne time) and her class only starts at 11 *slaps forehead*.

So I called, and called and called. Really lah, everyone's busy with their someone. Till someone finished being busy with their someone called, and I had company.

It's 2.08am, my tunes are playing and I'm munching on that tube of sour cream and onion Pringles (which I just noticed is now called Sour Scream and Onion) which I bought when I was in Langkawi about a month ago and came back and dumped under my bed and conveniently forgot about. Deja Vu.

Just 6 months ago, I was having snacks while my tunes played while I surfed or blogged or chatted or did my thesis or something in front of the computer at this time of the night....every night. I so fucking miss those days. As shitty as they were, I was happy. I really was. Okay, so I was quite miserable with all the money problems and robot problems and shitty workload and pimples blablabla...but it sure fucking beats the misery I'm going through right now. Work life is shit. It really is. And not because the life of working person just is. It's because I've got a shitty job. One which requires me to work at least 10 hours a day (usually 11-12) . And because I'm working in a company that deals with events and retail solution shit, when I'm not lucky (which is almost every weekend), I'm either at an event site, or at a some retail store till ungodly hours of the night being what the clients and everyone else calls me...contractor.

"Eh, you are the L'oreal contractor right?"

"Oh, you are the contractor for the plasma tv"

"Hello. Good day, my name is Alvin and I'm calling about the structures which we are going to construct at your venue next weekend"
"You are from which company?"
"Visual Earth"
"Oh, you are the contractor aaahh"

And this doesn't just happen during weekends. No, most of the time if I'm going to be anywhere till late in the night playing contractor, it's a weekday. So I spend 10-12 hours a day being Business Development Executive, and on unlucky days, I get to be contractor right up till when pubs close their doors.

Besides being Business Development Executive and Contractor, I also have the privilege of holding a double role of being full time sword and shield for my boss. That's right. When it's time to tikam some supplier or client or whomever, I become the sword. When it comes blocking the tikaman that's coming from the clients and suppliers, I become the shield.

I want to be a student again. I really wouldn't mind the shit students have to go through, because it sure as hell beats being in working life shit.

I still can't recall what was it that I wanted to blog about. Fuck it lah. I have enough shit here to make a post. So, till next time...

Too much work, and even more thoughts

2006-06-29T13:14:00.000+08:00

Sometimes you see shit flying at you...coming at your face slowly (or sometimes at the speed of sound)...surely to hit its target. And there's nothing you can do to dodge it. If you're really lucky, the shit might change its target at the last minute. I'm never that lucky.

There are 3 kinds of regret.
1) You made a bad decision or made a bad move that just fucks everything up.
2) You didn't do something that you felt you really need to do and regret not doing it in the end. But it's something not that big an issue and another opportunity will come soon enough and you'll get to do it anyway.
3) You didn't do something you desperately felt you needed to do because you didn't have the guts to and that opportunity slipped by and it haunts you forever that you didn't do it and will never know the outcome.

I'd say regret no.3 would be the worse of them all. It's something that never goes away. There are things in the past which I didn't do which I'll never get the chance to do again. Those were the things which I felt a desperate urge to do but just didn't have the balls to. And it haunts me indeed. What makes me sore about it is that I'll never know the outcome, good or bad. I'd be more satisfied if I did it eventhough the outcome was bad. Because then that makes it a regret no.1 situation. I made a bad move, and fucked things up. I'll get over it in due time.

But then again, what if not doing anything about it and regretting it forever yields better results than doing something about it and knowing the outcome? Would I be more sore about fucking things up, or more so about not knowing the outcome?

Sometimes you're already walking through shit but you don't realise it because it's only maybe just up to your ankles. Then the level rises to your knees and you realise what you're plodding through and you also realise that perhaps you're heading towards the deeper end of the shit pool. You want to turn around but you just don't have the luxury of that choice. The only choice is to just keep on trudging towards the deeper end. Before you know it, you're drowning in shit. No one sees you drowning...simply because shit isn't clear like water.

Dude, you got it all wrong man

2006-06-27T14:57:00.000+08:00

Life is troublesome. Death is peaceful. It’s the transition which I hope will be pleasant.

I went to a rave by accident.

2006-06-17T11:46:00.000+08:00

Two weekends ago I was sent down to Malacca for a project. I was called up at the very last minute to replace a colleague of mine who had a family emergency. So I packed up, and headed down south to the event site. Some Hotlink World Cup Kick Off party it was called. I wasn't told anything else about it besides the tasks I have to carry out on site. The first things I saw when I got there were these 3 bigass toll booth like structures.

I got down to work, took care of all my tasks and waited for the clients to show up.

Went to the next nearest town to get food for the clients as the event site was in the middle of nowhere.

Came back to a rave party.

It was my first time at a rave. Yes, I'm a jakun or sakai or whatever. The thought of driving all the way to some isolated place and then having to pay some 60-100 bucks for access just to get high on booze and drugs and dance never appealed to me at all. I'd rather have a few bottles of beer at the nearby padang with some buddies. If I wanted to get high and dance to trance, I'd just take a drive to KL where there exists a good suply of booze+trance.

After having gone to a rave, I can boldly say that I'd rather have my beer at the padang. Because rave parties are boring.

Suddenly...

2006-06-15T17:59:00.000+08:00

…I find myself alone again.

…I find myself back in this depressing place.

…I wake up every morning feeling like there’s nothing worth living for…not my goals, not my family, not my friends and not even for money.

…I’ve lost all direction. I don’t know where I want to go or what I want to do with my life. I’m just a log floating down the river. I don’t like my current job anymore, but yet, I don’t know what else I want to be doing. The thought of working in a manufacturing line…yuck. The thought of fixing helicopters…ones which people really ride on…nah…what if one crashes? I’d be in a lot more shit than I already am. The idea of working on an oil rig…considerable…I could use some solitude right now but I don’t need that solitary a life. Even the thought of fixing cars…something I always wanted to do, just isn’t an exciting one right now.

…everything I look at is just depressing. The wall, my feet, the sky, the little msn messenger icon at the corner on my screen, my phone, the range of unreleased L’oreal products on my desk, the empty seat at Chi’s desk…

…I just don’t want to do anything at all besides sleep. I feel so unenergetic that every movement I make feels like such a fucking strain to my body.

…the shit hits the fan. Splat splat piak piak splatter…..

I.am.still.blogging

2006-04-07T14:26:00.000+08:00

Hello my friends.

I am still very much alive.

Though my blog isn't.

Which is why I'm here in the middle of a work day, with my hands typing away as they rest on this 4 by 2 1/2 feet desk of mine while my back is cushioned by the sleeping bag which has served as my bed for the past countless nights.

This blog would no longer have much funny content (at least Wai Leong finds the content amusing) as my present job has totally robbed me of all the time I have. My job has taken up so much of my time that the only time that I spend outside my house that's not the office is either the client's office, the event site, the little indian shop around the corner from my office or the mamak nearby the office where I go to have really late dinners.

In a way, all this is paying off. I'm learning stuff that is useful to me, and at the same time, I've recieved bonuses for both the projects I've executed since I started work although my contract with the company states that I'll only receive bonuses after confirmation which is 3 months after I begin work with this company.

So how is it I'm free right now to type this little post if I'm as busy as I just mentioned? It's because I've finally completed all the little shits that I have to do for the last project after its execution. This is the waiting period...whereby I am finally free of work for maybe another 2 hours and then it comes, a whole fucking pile of work all over again.

As simple as this dumb booth looks, it had to be designed fully in 3d and then go through this never ending process of alterations thanks to 4 women clients who cannot make up their damn minds. But they're not bad looking except for the fat one, but she's pretty lah.

BANG! or was it more like CRASH! ??

2006-03-10T00:29:00.001+08:00

I'll tell you all about it later.

Moving on

2006-03-09T00:37:00.000+08:00

Hello friends....

I'm back, exhausted from the long hours of work I put up with everyday. Despite my head feeling heavy as a garbage truck, I choose to sit here in front of this square 17 inch screen (I gotta get me one of those wide screen ones when I got the cash), to talk about the last 31 days...the 31 days that have changed my life almost entirely.

31 days ago, I marched out of the exam hall, all excited for having finished my last exam paper ever where my advanced diploma is concerned. At the same time I felt all sad for having to leave college, my crib (let me call my flat my crib lah can?), my full time freedom and college itself. You know how it feels to have to leave everything behind and close a chapter of your life.

28 days ago I was free and having a blast...getting all pissed drunk and celebrating the end of education misery. 28 days ago I packed up, and moved out of my crib and came home to live with my parents. For a while I missed my crib....the good times, the bad times and the drunk times....but now I'm pretty fucking glad to not be living there anymore.

It didn't always look like this. I took this shot when I was packing to leave.

But why would I be glad to have moved out of there? I mean I had a masterbedroom all to myself...well at least for a while I did. This, my friends, we shall all find out as we move on.

27 days ago I decided that I've been too darn busy with my studies and every thing else and decided to hide from the world for a while.

24 days ago, I came out from hiding and started spending the CNY collections. It begin with a movie with Lynette and Badger. Then the complications begin. Lynette had to go to Penang the following day, which was on valentines day. And I willingly got dragged along.

23 days ago, (14/02/06), I quit being single. 23 days ago was by far the best Valentines I've ever had.

22 days ago, I came back from Penang and showed my mom my new found love.

21 days ago, I went for a job interview. Then it was off to Malacca with my new found love.

20 days ago, I was spending all my time with my new found love.

19 days ago, I was spending all my time with my new found love.

18 days ago, I was spending all my time with my new found love.

17 days ago, I was spending all my time with my new found love.

16 days ago, I was spending all my time with my new found love.

15 days ago, I was spending all my time with my new found love.

For those of you who still haven't figured out who my new love is, or is at this point has already really had it with the phrase "my new found love" and just wants to know who the heck is her...this is she....and I and some dude at the back yelling "OMFG...CUTE COUPLE...WHOA!!".

14 days ago, I signed a contract with Visual Earth, the company I work at now, for the position of "Business Development Executive". I thought it was just some fancy name given to those doing client servicing. Like how salesmen are called product ambassadors, and perhaps one day janitors will be called Maintainance Works Executives or Sanitation Engineers.

I continued spending the rest of my day with my new found love till 5pm came, and I had to meet up with the contractor which Visual Earth engages when orgaising events. Till that point, I still had no idea what my job required me to do, and exactly what is it do they do and expect me to do.

13 days ago, I discovered that Business Development Executive was serious business. I have to do exactly that. I was given a whole shitload of responsibilities which badger didn't warn me of when he recommended the job to me. This was when things started to change even more. This is when I began work, and began working from morning till night...everyday.

This was also when I had to pay a visit to my clients, one which has a revenue of something like 200 million bucks a year. When my boss introduced me to my clients, telling them that their account is now in my hands and everything that my company does for them in future, will be handled by me. They gave me a warm greeting followed by "give me your name card". And all I had for them was

"I don't have a name card yet"
"Howcome you don't have a name card?",said one lady.
"Oh, I just joined the company not too long ago. So my name cards aren't out yet" , I replied with a smile.
"And how long have you been in thiscompany?", said one other lady later.
"errrrrr...errrr...errr....errr *looks ateach other and nods heads while making eye signals* " went my boss and I for like 10 seconds."
A few days lah....I'm still very fresh",I burst in trying to break the obvious display of we-both-dunno-what-the-fuck-to-say.
"2 days actually. Alvin just came onboard", said boss.

I think he should have gone with 3. Because the look that was given to me by the 3 ladies after he said that read "You're so young, so fresh, so inexperienced and so dumb looking....and you're gonna be handling our account I see. I better go buy some Prozac after work today"

12 days ago, my new found love returned to Australia to get on with her education.

11 days ago, I finally went to church after too bluddy long.

10 days ago, I worked 12 hours.

9 days ago I worked 12 hours.

8 days ago, I worked 12 hours and realised that Business Development Executive in Visual Earth means doing everything. My job is mainly to organise events for our clients for now and I have quite an account in my hands. My duties includes making proposals to clients, giving them full progressive reports, designing booths to suit their events and catering to their needs (not easy when your company's interior designer is a pervert and the design seeks approval from 4 women who can't make up their minds), thinking up designs to be displayed at the booth, sourcing man power (hot promo chicks) to be working at these events, arranging for the designs to be fabricated by contract carpenters at the lowest cost possible (not easy when you can't speak chinese, and all these carpenters speak are Chinese), thinking up ideas for touch screen interfaces for their booths, the content and again getting approval for these designs from the clients....blablabla....it's a tiring job. It sounds easy, but it really isn't. Try doing all of the above all at the same time. And that's only the upper quarter of the list.

7 days ago, I continued slaving for the company.

6 days ago, was the same as the yesterday.

5 days ago, I was excited yet worried. For the following day would be the beginning of the execution of my first organised event, which took place in Johor. Despite having my boss assist me all the way, I was still pretty much left to take care of things on my own. It was only when I couldn't handle things that my boss stepped in. Like when that asshole of a Deejay whom was supposed to be at the event threw tantrums at me every time I called him and then did not show up at the event. We got an instant replacement though. Setup went fine. I overheard my boss telling another colleauge that we just broke the record for our fastest setup time so far.

4 days ago I executed my first event. Boss tells me I did well for a beginner.

A souvenir: Me with Barney with my left thumb in his ass. Now you know why he's smiling.

2 days ago I returned from Johor and got right back to work all the way past dinner.

Yesterday my boss tells me "Honestly speaking ah....you're doing more than I expected. It's good really"
Today I continue slaving for my boss...but it's not all that bad. He comes up to me again with more good news.

"I'll get you a table in a couple of weeks, instead of having you sit out here in the guest area. I got a lot of things on my mind, so within the next 2 weeks I'll get you a table. Your table will be next to mine. I'll get you a new computer...something powerful. And last month you only worked 5 days. If you find that you don't have enough money to live through this month, come see me...I'll lend you whatever you need for this month and you can pay me back next month. I know our black and white agreement says you'll only get your share of the profit after I confirm you which will be in 3 months time. But do this next project well, no fuck ups, and I'll start giving you your share of the profit".

In 31 days, I turned from single lonely student, to loverboy careerman. Praise God.

Come back later

2006-02-28T00:21:00.000+08:00

I'm still alive. The last few weeks of my life have been quite a ride. I'm loaded with a job which has robbed me of all my time. Try working 12 hours a day. Come back next week. Nothing for your reading pleasure this week.

Happy Chinese fukn New Year

2006-02-02T00:42:00.000+08:00

For the first time in my life, I did not have to go back to Taiping for the standard 6 days of boredom. Instead I enjoyed my weekend here in KL and PJ....and a bit of Malacca. But I have an excuse you see. I'm right in the middle of exams.

Frankly speaking, I do not enjoy going back to Taiping the slightest bit at all. No, I'm not a cruel grandson. Perhaps those who drag me all the way up there to be left bored shitless for 6 days should be labeled cruel. I have grandparents whom don't quite care shit about me anyway. Grandparents whom are not at all proud of their one and only family-name-bearing grandson.

Imagine 6 days of

1) no mobility

2) no entertainment - includes cinemas, shopping malls, computer games, internet connection and even no fuckn tv! coz the only programs that can be watched must be of my grandparents taste...that only includes chinese new year programs which are all full of shit. And no fukn radio too. Coz any mobile radio device isn't powerful enough to pick up no fukn signal at the back of that hill and the only radio in the house that's strong enough to pick up a signal has an invisible "english radio stations are prohibited" sticker on it. I'd rather stick my finger up my ass and hear myself groan then to turn on the chinese stations and hear synthetic firecrackers and bollocks chinese new year music.

3) no friends

So what do you do then?...when you just have nothing to do at all. You talk to your grandparents lah right? But of course, I don't speak any of their languages and neither do they mine. And the same goes for all the relatives on my father's side save for my father's other father's family. Which means we go from house to house all over Taiping visiting relatives whom we only see once a year only to literally see them. And there they are, right there, to just literally see us. Us would be me, sis and mom. Coz dad's all well known all around Taiping and all them relatives just love him. To quite simply put it, he's the only in the family whom speaks Hokkien.

Well of course there's that standard line which goes something like "Wah, so grown up already ah. Look like you mother/father" all spoken in Hokkien. I bet my fukn nut sacks they wouldn't know me even if my face appeared all blown up on the front page of the newspapers. Shit, I could drop dead in front of their door step and they'd just call the cops to pick up the anonymous corpse, then a few days later they find out it's me and go "Aiyah, si Ah Lai eh kia ah? Wua pun em chai see Ah Lai eh kia". Go figure what that means. My hokkien is shit...so you'd probably have a hard time figuring that line out.

On the other hand, I totally enjoy going to Malacca. My mom's pure nyonya melaka...dark skinned as well. Explains where I got my sexually chocolatety skin tone from. Anyways, she's nyonya which means all them peoples on her side of her family speak either malay or english and just like me, they can't speak chinese to save their lives. I first discovered the whole line up of them last year. I never knew they existed. When I saw them last year, they told me that the last time they saw my mom, was during her wedding, which was pretty much how old I am. This Chinese New Year, I went to see them again, and get this...they all remember me! They've only seen me once before and when they saw me again, right away they spoke "Lu Christine punya anak. Mak lu mana? Tak mari?". That's why lah I like to go back to Malacca. Besides feeling the feeling of being part of the family, I got this really hot cousin there too. But she's getting married pretty soon...so I heard lah.

So here I am now, back in my flat in Setapak. Just me, myself and the bogeyman, studying for the last paper I'll have to put up with for at least another year. Studying damn hard....really.

Time flies....no shit

2006-01-23T21:25:00.000+08:00

I took this picture on 1 June 2005, shortly after I moved into this flat. It's the construction site just in front of my flat building which I was complaining about when I first moved in. The noise from the piling works just drove me totally insane. But at least I could still see a little bit of the buildings that make up KL's skyline. Today, or at least it was only today that it came to my attention that the above mentioned construction site is a fucking eyesore.

Time flies...yes it does. It feels like just not too long ago that I started my final year...being all piled up with work to the nostrils...barely breathing...going all insane with exams, assignments and a final year project. Now I'm at the end of it. All that goes through my mind day and night...good to know...has nothing to do with my studies anymore, despite the fact that I'm smack right in the middle of exams right now. What gets me all worked up these days is getting a job. I toss and turn at night thinking about how I'm gonna have to pay 600 bucks a month for my car, not forgetting the maintainence and gas that comes along with it, as well as the RM101.25 that I'll have to pay the government every month for a 10k loan I took 3 years ago...not forgetting EPF cuts and SOCSO and all that shit. Besides all that shit that I already have to pay for, I'll have to pay for my phone bills, my sex bills, my social bills and every damn bill as long as main consumer is I. To add to that, there's like this 4 figure sum worth of personal debts that I have to clear thanks to Rob. Wouldn't you be tossing and turning all night if you were me?

And so it begins...the final battle

2006-01-19T23:48:00.000+08:00

My final final-exams started today. I think I did pretty alright for today's paper. Strangely enough, I'm all relaxed this semester. No sleepless nights(though I get dreamless sleeps), no vomitting and no stress. Perhaps I'm just being over confident. OR perhaps it's just that I've already got so used to this shit that it just doesn't bug me anymore. I'm not stocked up with instant noodles this time around. That's coz I'll be moving out of this crib of mine in less than a month. There goes my freedom......

And so you see right....

2006-01-17T02:08:00.000+08:00

Tunku Abdul Rahman College (TARC) started off as an education institute providing quality education at a low cost. I can't say the same about TARC today for one simple reason.

Because TARC is just a college, they're not allowed to award degrees to anyone (doh) and all we get are diplomas and advanced diplomas. And because diplomas and advanced diplomas are shit in the real world especially where engineering is concerned, TARC became a professional papers based college. Engineering students ended up having to take Engineering Council (UK) papers because there weren't top-up courses back then and the only other way to get a degree was to use the diploma certificate to go back into the 2nd year of an engineering course in a local university and waste another 3 years doing all the shit that has already been done in the advanced diploma. So what about these Eng. Council(EC) papers? JPA recognizes those who take these papers (and of course pass them lah) as graduate engineers, so there's no need for a degree. And it's globally recognised.

So where did the top-up courses show up from? A man by the name...I think I'll spare his reputation. The head of School of Technology decided that it was pretty darn heartless to make the poor advanced diploma students do the EC papers since they were incredibly tough, so he made a trip to the UK and negotiated with some universities for top-up courses...and he actually got them. That's when the standard of TARC started dropping. Students couldn't be fucked to do the EC papers anymore and resorted to borrowing scandallous amounts of money to go to the UK for them top-up degrees that aren't worth shit really.

So there I was in the library today as usual (the exams starts on thursday) and one of my friends brought this whole stack of ECUK papers from the year 2004. I went through them and oh my facking pancakes....they are ridiculously tough...or at least we weren't taught how to solve those questions in TARC. So please my dear friends, if you got friends whom you know want to enrole for an engineering course in TARC, stick a gun in their face and force them to go elsewhere...unless they're stoned broke like me that is. Because if they do go to TARC, they'll end up with qualifications which only private companies recognise...and all they get will be shitty top-up degrees unless they take part2 of the ECUK examinations. BUT...there's a but...good news is, our diplomas are recognised by City and Guilds...which means diploma grads from TARC are exempted from part 1 of the ECUK exams. Strangely though, people of all ages are telling me that there exists a certain level of demand for TARC grads in all industries.

So that's one reason why "Quality Education at a Low Cost" don't count anymore. It's not really that quality. But beggars can't be choosers can they? For not more than 3000 bucks a year, I guess we're getting a value-for-money bargain?

And there's this other thing about TARC. You probably realise by now that TARC is for the lower income group...people with no money...people whose parents can't afford to send them elsewhere...people whose parents can't even afford to live a month without debt (save for housing and automobile loans) and have to work either part time or full time jobs and go around borrowing money just to see them asses through the next semester. It's cool really. My friends in TARC are generally guys whom are older than me because they ended up spending an extra year for their diplomas...probably because they were too busy trying to earn money at the same time, or because they had to work after their diplomas to save up enough money for their advanced diplomas...whatever it is, these guys went through shit the hard way....like me. Unlike you motherfuckers out there whose had everything given to you by your parents, these people are more mature, more appreciative, and more down to earth. Okay, well maybe not all of you...but you fuckers know what I mean.

And there's this guy (or girl) who drives a CLK230 Benz to college. Totally surprised me when I stepped out of my shabby ride today. Make no mistake...it's a students car with a student's parking pass pasted to its windscreen. I thought people go to TARC because they had no money? I mean, wouldn't they wanna go to some place better if they could afford it? I mean, a whole shitload of my friends chose to go to Taylors and Inti and Metro and all that fuck crap...tells a lot about the quality of TARC if people actually rather pay 5 figure amounts per year to go do the same course at TAylors and all that fuck crap than to spend 3000 bucks a year doing it in TARC. Or is TARC really of that high standard that people have been telling me about?... that people who can actually afford to go to elsewhere, chose to go to TARC? And look at the car right next to it, it's a Honda Accord...though a lil old. If anyone can afford to buy that car, brand new or used, and pay for its gas and maintain it, they definitely got enough money to go somewhere that's not TARC.

What was my point again? I forgot....pretty fucked in the brain at this point.

May it be a good 2006

2006-01-09T01:10:00.000+08:00

I was on the way to a church member's house earlier today when I got a phone call from my project partner Beng...

"Eh, you got yesterday's Star newspapers?"
"Got...but I'm not at home now"
"Got people tell me our project come out in newspaper"
"Really ah? Later I go check"

I got reached to the house where all the church youths and some not so youthy youths were gathered for some dinner. When I got there, my fav church aunty was like "WAH, yesterday I saw you in the newspapers ah....wear long sleeve and tie....look so smart" and then some of the other dudes and dudettes were like "I saw you in the papers...explaining about robot". I didn't even know I made the news at that time...because I don't read the papers lah...I play Dota you see. And even better, my sis read about it, and didn't recognise my face (HOW COULD SHE?! *Lifts fists to eye level*).

So I checked it out.

And I was delighted...and then not so delighted. Coz it was just a picture of me with the captions "(From right) TAR College principal Yoong Lai Thye and Lim listening to the explanation from a student about how the robot works". They gave us no credit. But still, I'm delighted to know that of all the pictures the press could choose from, they chose a picture of me...probably because...because...I'm good looking?

It's the new year and as always there are the new year resolutions. But first, I have to make an assessment of last year's resolution.

2005 resolutions:
1)Stop failing papers. -check

2)Get myself a girlfriend. And I don't mean those just for sex kinda things. I don't do that sorta thing anyway. Coz if I could, I wouldn't need a gf. - half checked

3)Go for a real vacation. I want sun, sand and sea....and girls. - check and double check.

4)Grow an inch taller. - gotta work on this one

5)Have biceps and triceps and abs that of a wrestler. - gotta work on this one too

6)Learn how to play jazz on the piano. - not happening

7)Do my daily devotions...everyday. - half checked

8)Start saving up money for a Ferarri. - check. have like a small mountain of shillings.

9)Make friends with at least another 10 girls in college. - super check

10)Turn 21 and hope that the bastard guys at club doors stop asking me for my fucking I.C. - this one also check

This year...

1) Continue not failing papers.

2) Get a job and quit thinking about girls.

3) Pay off my shitload of debts.

4) Grow an inch taller?

5) Get a good vacation...with more sun, sand, sea and girls...and booze.

I can't think of anymore resolutions...just not really excited about the year. Happy 2006 everyone.

Merry Christmas? It was fucking not merry...

2005-12-29T18:05:00.000+08:00

"How was your Christmas?" everyone asks.
I tell them "It was fucking not merry".

But WHY?!

Coz it just fucking sucked the sweat off a dead man's balls lah, that's why.

Here's the long story why. You see, I did a diploma + advanced diploma course. And all diploma and advanced diploma courses are actually breakdowns of degree courses. So in other words, I did a degree course which came in two parts. The college can't award me a degree quite simply because they are only a college and are not allowed to award degrees. So in order to get a degree, I'll have to go to a uni in the UK to do a 4 month top-up course so that those fellas over there can award me with a bachelors degree.

So you see right, I had to find 300 pounds (payable to Liverpool John Moore's Universitry) and 200 ringgit (payable to TARC) as deposit to book me a place in LJMU...and this money had to be paid (when handing in the application forms) by the 27th. The rest of my top-up course would be funded by a 30k loan by Kojadi (some MCA finance shit)...but first, I have to pay a total of 1739 for membership and purchase of a certain amount of their shares in order to be eligible for the loan.

I informed my mom a long time ago about the money that I need and all she could do was tell me to pray about it and "see how lah". It was indirectly telling me that neither my parents can make it possible for me. So I went to see Edwin's mom whom so very sayang me (or that's what I think lah) to borrow the money that I needed. Edwin's mom had been hit by some scumbag snatch thieves some two days before I went to see her. When I went there on Friday night, she could hardly walk due to the loss of skin on her foot and hands due to the friction caused by the dragging in the incident. And to make things worse, the bluddy scumbag got off his bike and kicked her in the waist. But still, she went to the bank all alone on Saturday morning (I offered to bring her there but she insisted that she went alone lah coz she very strong lah you see) to withdraw 2400 ringgit because she had just renewed her fix deposits and that's all she could offer me. That 2400 was more than I needed to cover the 300 pounds and 200 ringgit which had to be paid by the 27th.

So on Christmas eve I came home and told my mom not to worry about the money that has to be paid by the 27th because I already have it. All I needed was the 1739 needed for the 30k loan which only needs to be paid up sometime in the end of January/ beginning of February. She was really busy at that moment and I went out to chill at the badger's burrow that night, so discussions were delayed to the next day.

That Sunday night, I sat down and explained the situation to my parents and then it started...the bombardment of reasons why I shouldn't go.

"You haven't got job yet, you shouldn't start making debts"
"But you see right, I only have to repay these debts after I start work"
"Then you go there for 4 months, we still have to send money to you, where to find money?"
"*stones...tells myself that the least you could do for me is send me whatever money for that 4 months*"
"What about air fair?"
"The loan will take care of it"
"I got some business coming in...if all goes well, by April next year, I'll have some 2 million bucks"
"Frankly speaking, you've had deals for the past 10 years that never happened. If I'm going to carry on waiting, I might as well not think about finishing my studies"
"But ah boy, you go around borrowing money like that, then how are you going to pay them back...plus the 30k loan somemore"
"Edwin's mom only expects me to pay her back when I start working. Plus the 30k loan is on a scheduled repayment scheme"
"I think you should differ the semester"
"But it's a summer semester....and I'll only be able to go in the following summer. That's 1 1/2 years from now."
"But then the loan repayment almost 500 bucks a month how to tahan?"
"The salary difference between a diploma and degree holder is easily 300-400 bucks. Whether I go now or later, I'll still have more less money at the end of the month. The difference is my salary will climb faster.My advanced diploma is only regarded as a diploma...how much do you think I can earn with a shitty lil diploma?"
"The decision is yours lah....but I'd prefer if you differ the semester"

So the next day, I picked up the phone to tell Edwin's mom to keep the money as I've decided not to go considering how badly my parents don't want me to. I then proceeded to tell my mom about the decision that I've made.

"Mom, I'm not going liao. Asked Edwin's mom to keep the money already"
"HAH?! Then you go for the 2007 intake ah? By that time you still can study or not? Not good if you go so late then your brain rusty already then fail the papers....worse still like that."
"If no one is going to support my decision then I also don't want to go lah"
"Oh okay lah...like that ah...I also prefer if you'd wait for the 2007 intake."

Wahpiangeh cibai. I had to drive more than a 100km to go see Edwin's mom and trouble her when she could hardly move just to get that money, and both mom and dad tells me not go to. And when I decide to not go, mom starts giving me reasons why I should go.

This Christmas, no one gave me shit except for my aunt whom gave me a mug, and Eunice whom bought me a garlic bun and a chocolate bun. I can live with that. Besides, I didn't give anyone shit anyway.

This Christmas, I had to face the disappointment of trying so fucking hard, and watching it all just go up in smoke...that's why it so fucking sucks the sweat off a dead man's balls lah.

Change...I don't fucking want it

2005-12-20T01:58:00.000+08:00

3 1/2 years ago, when I first step foot into college, I hated it. I never wanted to go to Tunku Abdul Rahman College to begin with. They were just too bluddy notorious for their Chinese speaking bumpkin students. At least that's what made me not want to go there in the first place. And true enough, the entire college were just full of them I-am-uncivilised-bad-mannered-can't-speak-english-despite-free-english-classes-from-the-government-for-11-years-bumpkin-from-an-ouskirt-which-name-is-more-queer-than-a-star-wars-movie-character's people. Can you say "Merlimau"?

I hated having to travel 23 stations up the LRT track just to get to college and having to travel another 23 stations back down just to get home after classes...every fucking day. Then there are those days when my mom doesn't have a car to get me from the LRT station...because say...maybe my sister had taken that car to go to college...the same college that I go too. How wicked is that? We live in the same house, but one takes car and the other takes public transport. So anyways, there are those days that I'll just have to stand at the damn LRT station waiting for the shuttle busses which are without fail sitting idle at the waiting area while the drivers take their hour long naps in a little hut behind the station. Fuck I doubt there was even a hut, they were probably just lying around somewhere. So why didn't I just take a fucking cab then? Because I had no fucking money lah.

WHAT?! ALVIN HAS NO MONEY FOR EVEN A FUCKING CAB?!

That's right fuckers. I did not have shit quid for cab. Things were made worse when it rained just when class ends. Since carrying an umbrella in that already full of shit bag of mine was only gonna make it more full of shit, I decided not to carry an umbrella. Actually I did bring an umbrella to college a few times. And it never rained when I did. Having the gods to suddenly piss on you when you need to walk to the LRT station meant that you could walk in their piss and get to the station then suffer 23 stations of air conditioning blowing on your soaked body, or wait for them to be done with their piss.

I hated going to college everyday and having to put up with lecturers with worse english than that Malay wrap-head woman who taught me English back in high school...I thought she was bad...but the lecturers during my diploma days, they sucked so bad, they could suck a golf ball through a garden hose. I hated going to class with people who couldn't possibly put a proper sentence of English together to save their lives. Talking to them was like trying to break the enigma code.

Going to college was such a big change that I just wasn't ready for. It dropped on me like a bomb and having other problems(which are too personal to talk about) go on at the same time just made me totally miserable. Life was a drag. Watching how my close friends got to choose a course of their desire at the college/university of their desire along with a car to get there made me wonder why was it that I had to be the poor soul whom had to travel some 2 1/2 to 3 hours a day to go all the way to that shitty place to get my shitty education which had to be funded by a government loan.

Eventually I got a car...no wait, actually it was, eventually, I got a driver's license when I was nearing the age of 20 which I had to fucking pay for because no fucking soul wanted to fork out that money for me, including me. Eventually, I moved out to a little room in a little apartment near college by first moving into the room and not coming home for a long while because mom didn't like the idea of me moving out and would rather have me go through the shit that I go through participating in the Malaysian public transport system. By that time, I had a part time job that paid me more than twice the allowance I was getting, so I paid for everything. Mom and Dad couldn't care less...which was good news...coz that meant I could cut my head off and shit down my throat and they couldn't be fucked nuts about it. So I managed to move myself out and at the same time drag the car along with me.

Things gradually got better and better as my advanced diploma days passed...or maybe they didn't get better, I just got used to having a shitty life? Or am I just being ungrateful for the good life that I had? The grass is always greener on the other side innit?

My college life ends in 2 months. In two months time, there would be no more going to classes, doing assignments and studying for exams (save for the resit papers that I have which do not exist at present). There would be no more English debates, no more sitting outside lecture halls and checking out female bumpkins who turned into chicks and making fun of female bumpkins that turned into fashion disasters. Going to college today is the total opposite of what it was when I first started going to college. My coursemates now speak English, though there are the morons who still can't tell the difference between "there","they're" and "their"...and what the fuck is up with "there have" all about? I didn't know anyone was capable of such a phrase till I met these morons.

I've made some really good friends in college, have a pretty settled life in this little flat of mine and am conditioned to the college routines...maybe all a little too much. In 2 months time, I'd have to leave all this behind me. Looking back at things now, I wish I could do it all over again. Not because I enjoyed suffering for the past 3 1/2 years...maybe because I'm a little too attached to what I have now...and definitely because I just don't wanna go to work...don't get me wrong, I love work, coz work = money, and I love money...I just don't wanna leave college and have to go through this entire process called change all over again.

This has nothing to do with all the stuff that I've just gone on and on about. I thought this was funny. Don't you think so?

Aiyah Shit

2005-12-17T21:12:00.000+08:00

My car number come out again....but I again didin't buy.....but fuck it lah...small prize only.

Post

2005-12-08T23:01:00.000+08:00

"Yes, Yes Edwin...good morning. Put that camera away before I eat it up"

Some days you wake up, look in the mirror and mutter to yourself "life sucks".

And on some days, you wake up and gayly say "Imma get the all the bitches today!"

Looks better no? OKaylah, I got a haircut. Everyone has been telling me how good it looks...including my secret crush...Ms. Liang, whom teaches materials engineering...so I thought I'd just put it up here and hope that some chick comes by and decides to give me her phone number.

Any of you ever got that prolonged food poisoning thing happen to you before? It's like you wake up one day and you head to the loo for your normal morning Hiroshima bombings but instead of getting bombs, you get a new chemical weapon that comes in a form of spray liquid. And it goes on for days and days.

I had one of those episodes recently. This time it wasn't just diarrhea...it was vomit as well. 4 long days of that nonsense. Even that chinese medicine thing that comes in the form tiny lil balls didn't work. So I tried some western style medicine...some green pills called Dhamotil. Nope, didn't do shit for me. So I finally had it and decided...there's probably some real kickass bacteria cultivation programme going on in that tummy of mine, and they need to be killed with some real medicine. I went downstairs, got myself a can of Carlsberg stuffed that havoc of a stomach of mine with the golden liquid.

The next morning, I got up, sat my self up on my throne of cleansing hoping for some solids to drop out...but this time worse still! come out gas only. I knew, that ubat tradisional asli of a beer was working. Night came, and this time really stomach ache one....sat myself at the throne and went "MMMMMMMPPHHHH!!! " and there it was....that sound...."plooop!". That's right my friends, that's right....Beer healed me. So guys, the next time you got the squirts, don't wait, don't waste your parent's (or your own) hard earned quids on western or eastern medicine...just get yourself a can of whatever beer (except that bullshit non-alcoholic beer), and heal yourself nice and quick...and know that you'll be sleeping well at the same time.

It's that fucking time again...that's right

2005-12-05T21:15:00.000+08:00

Rob was suppose to walk. Turns out, the bastard waddles like a duck.

Get ready, get set, WADDLE!

Waddle Waddle Waddle.....

Waddle Waddle Waddle...

But no biggie, it walks at a blazing speed of 9mm per second. You think that's slow, you haven't seen so called fast robots that only do 3-5mm per second.

My thesis is finally done and ready for binding. Now there's just this fuckload of assignments stacked up to my nostrils...all due on the same week.

RobV4

2005-11-18T16:07:00.000+08:00

It's been a long week. The past 1 1/2 semesters are by far the most miserable semesters in my college life. Assignments stacked up to the neck, classes at ridiculous time intervals, and a final year project with no funds, tools nor equipment provided for by the college. The college wonders why we fail papers. Really, them lecturers actually gave us a sounding during classes for breaking the college record for highest overall failure rate in college history.

Well of course we had to fail papers, especially last semester. With 5 subjects, 10 assignments which only contribute to 20% of the final exams, class tests, a final year project which has to be completed in 5 months (think about the 1 month spent on waiting for the project proposal to be approved and another 1 month spent on the semester exams, that leaves 3 months) and a pain in the ass quality upgrade scheme carried out by the college which resulted in extremely tough exam papers...exam papers with questions which weren't part of the syllabus. IT IS OBVIOUS WHY WE ARE THE RECORD HOLDERS FOR THE HIGHEST OVERALL FAILURE RATE IN COLLEGE HISTORY.

Fortunately for me, I failed nothing last semester.

So here I am sitting here today, blogging....finally....simply because ROB WALKS! WHAT A FUCKING RELIEF! After sacrificing afternoon naps and going home during weekends for the past few months, endless hours in front of the computer designing and redesigning and redesigning, and spending almost 2000 bucks, the 10th wonder of the world is born....second only to Frankenstein the humanoid god himself....

RobV3, the third revision of Rob is born. Rob is a 10 degrees of freedom bipedal walking robot which quite sadly, can't walk. RobV3's ankle servomotors were a little too underpowered. He stands up really well, but his jello like ankles can't handle standing on one leg.

Upon realising that RobV3 is never gonna walk unless the Pants-Fairy comes in the middle of the night and changes all my pants into money so I can purchase 4 more heavy duty servomotors to replace RobV3's shitty little servomotors, my project partner and I immediately took RobV3 apart and starting praying for the Pants-Fairy to come that night.

A new design had to be made that will actually work with the existing servomotors we have.
The rest of that day was spent in front of the computer redesigning the fucking thing. The next day, it was off to Sungai Besi for laser cutting and bending....and reconstruction.

This is RobV4. He has only 6 degrees of freedom, four degrees of freedom less than RobV3...but the good news is, he fucking walks!...albeit like a drunkard. I'm relieved knowing that Rob finally walks, which completes the prototype. All I have to now is complete my thesis. What really disappoints me is that the Pants-Fairy didn't show up. The much needed heavy duty servomotors could not be purchased and hence the 10 degree of freedom design which works really well had to be scrapped.

Long lonely drive

2005-11-07T20:49:00.000+08:00

It's been a while...

I took a long drive today...had to get some work done for my project. It was a long drive from my flat in Setapak to Jalan Loke Yew then back to Setapak and then to Bandar Sri Damansara and then back to Setapak.

So there I was taking that long drive through the ever-jammed roads of KL and PJ without anyone to keep me company. You know how it's like...all alone in the traffic jam listening to the sound of annoying deejays, bad black rap, cheap rock music, your 12 year old Malaysian-made car making all sorts of funny noises, the backstreet boys, other cars blowing their horns off and Ferrari exhaust notes coming out from little Kancils with a bad case of inferiority complex.

I slipped into a chain of deep thoughts as I again got lost on the way to Jalan Loke Yew. I thought about the year that's about to end just as quickly as it started. It felt like it was just yesterday that 2004 ended...it felt like just yesterday that I felt the relief of leaving 2004, one of the worst years that I've had, behind. Despite having a lot of problems this year, I must say that 2005 has been a good year for me. I'm in bigger debt than ever, but I've drawn closer to God, passed all my exams and have less problems than in 2004. Then it struck me...I'll turn 22 next Chinese New Year. WTF?! I don't even feel like 21. I used to (and probably still do) think 22 year olds are adults...grown ups. For some reason I don't feel grown up at all. I feel like a fucking boy, not a young man. I still look like a boy for that matter.

My thoughts then shifted to Rob...I started thinking about what's going to happen to me should Rob not walk. Then this light bulb just lit up right above my head. No, a solution didn't pop up in my head, but I got a brilliant idea anyways. You see right, there are doctors out there to take care of sick people...people whom don't know what drugs to get and what to inject themselves with when they're sick. In fact, some people just pay doctors a visit to get medical advice and to clarify uncertainties. Wouldn't it be nice, if there were engineering doctors, not just PhD holders, but engineer ala doctor sort of engineering doctors with all sorts of engineering knowledge in their specific field who sit in their little clinics waiting for patients....patients like me whom are desperate for help and for a small sum, good advice or solutions or services are provided. Imagine if you were one of the only engineering doctors in town...and your lil engineering clinic is somewhere within viewing distance of a university or college. You'd get all sorts of lazy engineering students flocking to your clinic for help with their assignments, homework, final year projects...you name it. And because you are the engineering doctor (perhaps the only one in that area), you get to charge these desperate or lazy bastards as you see fit. You can charge the ones whom are just being plain lazy exhorbitant prices, while you charge those whom are really in need of help more reasonably. It's like how doctors make you cough up more cash when you need a medical certificate not because you're sick, but just simply because you felt like staying at home on a working day.

Then it hit me...the idea of engineering clinics have been around for ages....they're called tuition centers. It's what school teachers do after school hours or after discovering that they don't wanna be paid so little for the work they do when they can be paid so much more. They open tuition centers to cater for the needs of lazy kids (kids like me when I was a teenager) who feel the need to go for extra classes because their teachers are not teaching them enough in school when the simple truth was they just couldn't be bothered to try hard enough. I'm not saying all kids who go/went for tuition classes are/were lazy...but the truth is, most of them were. This woman proved to me that tuition was totally unnecessary when she scored straight A1s in the SPM exams and the only tuition she went for her entire life was Bahasa Melayoo tuition which was led by a balding-overweight-full-of-dirty-jokes-chinese-man.

Anyways, back to the idea of engineering clinics...the idea is simple...set up a little so called "engineering clinic" that offers "special" classes for students after college/uni hours to "help them with their work, assignments, lessons, projects...etc" and charge them a 3 figure price. Then here's the juicy part...sell research papers, robot projects, simulation projects and whatever students need with the cover up reason of "giving them guidance without encouraging plagiarism". Should there be projects that students need that can't be bought, then the student can get the engineering doctor to do it for him/her at a "price that the engineering doctor sees fit". As long as both student and engineering doctor don't tell anyone, no one's ever gonna find out. Imagine if you were the engineering doctor....all you have to do is complete kids' homework and get paid big money.

Unethical you say? Then I suppose you think it's ethical for tuition teachers, lecturers or whatevers to have crash courses that offer "tips, guidelines and secrets to getting the As" to high school students at high prices which we all know are the bollocks. If you can agree with me that these crash courses are for high school minors are just a scam, you'd see that I'm being just as ethical as the teachers, lecturers and conmen who carry this shit out. If cannot agree with me that these crash courses are the bollocks, and that all the "tips, guidelines and secrets to getting the As" are for real, then send your kids to my engineering clinic, should I open one some day, should you have kids in engineering courses some day.

The thoughts I get while taking long lonely drives.....

Vibrated and Passed

2005-10-27T00:18:00.000+08:00

It was Edwin's birthday yesterday. We decided to get him a special little something that's pink in colour, has a battery pack...and vibrates.

"Boy Oh Boy Oh bOY!!...Am I gonna have fun tonight, or am I gonna have fun tonight. Wait till Eunice gets a load of this"

Put Edwin and the pink piece of technology together, and we get one happy 21 year old.

"That's right fuckers...Imma have fun tonight"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up this morning to the sound of my ringing phone. Then came Edwin's voice...

"Eh man, what's your ID and IC number. I help you check your results"
"Eh, dun wan lah, lemme check myself lah."
"Ok.Ok"

So I got out of bed, said a whole load of prayers and proceeded to sit myself in front of the computer. I opened and Internet Explorer window and typed 'www.tarc.edu.my' at the address bar and waited. After a little navigation, there I was...the page where I had to key in my ID and IC number. So I did the obvious...I keyed in them numbers...and took a break to pray...just once more. It was crazy...more thrilling than watching my wife give birth, more fearsome than being handcuffed to the bed while my while cracks her whip waiting to unleash her fury on me, more exciting than my first time, more [you fill in the blanks]....

I finally brought my mouse pointer to the 'submit' button and clicked on it. Then I closed my eyes and broke out in another load of prayers. Then came those more this than that feelings again. I opened my eyes....and I saw.....

I PASSED ALL MY PAPERS!

I broke out in another string of prayers thanking God.

So thinking that maybe something went wrong with the IT systems, I checked again about 10 minutes later with a different browser. Again I saw the same thing.

I passed all my papers...for real.
I went to college around noon for classes and discovered that everyone had failed at least 1 paper. Most of them failing 2-3 papers and there were even a handful who failed 4-5 papers. There were only 4 other guys that I know off who passed all their papers.
Amazing! Everyone around me is failing papers and I just so happen to be the lucky one with the passes. I believe God made me a miracle.

This one will just be left untitled

2005-10-17T01:50:00.000+08:00

It's been a week of college now and things don't seem to be all that bad. Or maybe I'm just being optimistic? Or perhaps I'm just so excited about this final semester. Remember how it was back when you just left high school, and you felt a loss? You don't wanna leave your friends and the environment you had. And now that you're in tertiary education you just wish you could go back to high school? You just miss those days and now wish you had cherished them a little bit more...you wish you had done a whole list of things which you never got to do in high school. Well, I personally wanted to be a whole lot cheekier back in school...I wish I had pulled more pranks, beat more people up and sabotaged more motherfuckers. Well those days are gone and my college days are numbered. So it's now or never.

In January I made a resolution to get to know at least 10 girls from college before the year ends. I've already made friends with more than 10. Now I wanna take this resolution one step higher.
You see right, I got this masterplan. I'll go around waving randomly at girls. Perhaps 1 out of every 10 girls might wave back. Then that's where the conversation part comes in. Then it's a week of jollies...like kissing and stuff. Then there's the let down...time to say bye bye and start waving to another 10 girls. Should I get 1 girl a week, that'd make 14 girls in 14 weeks. But of course 4 weeks before the exams is isolation time. So that leaves 10 weeks. After some advanced calculus computations, it is deduced that I'll wave to about 100 girls and date about 10 in that 10 weeks. Good masterplan no?

That's just part 1 of the whole masterplan. Part 2 is of even higher priority...a must do. I'll pull a nasty prank on each and every lecturer whom has taught my class before. Something to make them remember me for life. Then one day I'll come back all successful and all that jazz, and they'll still remember me...and they'll say "You did pretty good for a dickhead". And then I'll say "No shit. And you're still a dimwit".

Brilliant!

I was trying this Google Earth thing today. It's brilliant really. I found my house with it.

I found my flat...

I found my college...

I even found (are you ready for this?)...the spot where I got my first kiss!

Some holiday it was

2005-10-09T00:58:00.000+08:00

The holidays have ended just as suddenly as it started. It's always like this; the holidays end and I ask myself what have I actually done. And the answer is always "nothing". Well that's the whole point of the holidays innit?...to be doing nothing. Sadly this time around, the holidays were meant for catching up on building Rob and next semester's assignments. Yes, I already had next semester's assignments to do before the holidays started.

2 weeks of holidays and all I did was sleep a lot, played Dota a lot, watched a movie, went to the mamak a lot, did a considerable amount of church and well...I guess that's all a person can do in 2 weeks. I didn't get that short trip I needed, I didn't get much boozing coz my drunk buddies aren't around anymore and my sober buddies well, they don't booze. The mother of them reasons for not doing much was actually the sad fact that I'm broke. What is there do to when you got no money? Where is there to go when you can't afford gas for your wheels?

I suffered like crap the whole of last semester and all I got was 2 weeks off and now it's back to another whole semester of suffering. The good news is this will be the last of it...the last of all sufferings...where college is concerned that is. This will be my final semester and even if I fail papers here and there, I won't have to go to class anymore after this semester. All I have to do, should I fail any papers, is study and resit the damn papers.

Exams ain't all that bad come to think of it. Besides the vomitting, the sleepless nights (I slept like a baby the last exams for some sick reason), the stress and the lifeless morning till night library routine, I don't have to do anything at all. It's the time of the year when I get to say no to everything. Not like I've got the luxury to say yes actually. But it's great to get to say no to work, to obligations, to chores, to people whom you don't really wanna see, to assignments...to about anything that has got nothing to do with exams. It's when I can be negligent about every damn thing and all I have to do to get away with it is say the magic words "I'm having exams".

I'm so glad that this is the last of the last of it...probably the most tiring semester, but fuck that! In a matter of months, I'll be a free man...free from the this prison (with built in concentration camp) called education. I'm just not so glad about graduating from 'prison education" to "prison rat-race" and having to go to work and pay off shit loads of shit. BAh! Depressing.

Of Rob and Friend

2005-09-29T01:31:00.000+08:00

Exams ended last thursday. That doesn't make me a free man despite the 2 week holiday I have. I have to get my ass back on to my work, my final year project; the robot.

That's Rob the Robot. Rob has no head, no shoulders, no arms, no reproductive organs. Sad bloke only has a waist and a pair of legs. That's the design I came up with using a CAD software called SolidWorks. Rob's motors itself has by itself cost my partner and I about 1000 bucks. Rob's electronic controls have already cost us some 400 bucks. Now we're in deep shit. Rob's limbs would cost some 600-1000 bucks to be fabricated. The rest of Rob's electronic controls have yet to be purchased and is estimated to cost at least another 400 bucks. In short, we're fucked. And that's where you, my friends, come into the picture. I need donation...it's for charity. It's for the 2 poor guys whose parents are too poor to give them any quid for this project and if they don't find this money fast, they might not graduate. Even worse is poor Rob might never feel the earth beneath his feet.

I SAW....something very interesting today. I was set for a movie with Chi and a friend(we'll just call her Friend) today. Friend was to pick me up but Friend had some really important things to do at the last minute. So Friend came really late, and when we finally got to the cinema, Chi was already inside. So we tried to contact Chi so he could come out and pass the tickets to us. But Chi's sad Maxis shit line had no reception. So what to do? Friend dragged me around shopping for clothes. So we were at I dunno what shop...and Friend was picking out clothes to try. Then Friend went into the changing room and just before she got in she said "come, I wear and show you".

So I waited outside the changing rooms which had curtains for doors. There were no signs whatsoever to indicate that it was specifically a women only zone and men are not allowed to stand outside or anywhere near the curtain-doors. REally, I checked. So I was waiting outside the curtain-doors when suddenly...I SAW IT! ...and NO, I wasn't peeping on Friend...Friend suddenly swung the curtain open and there she was in utmost glory. I thought Friend wanted to show me the corset she picked out since well, there were nothing on her shoulders save for her bra straps...so I looked down to where I thought the corset would be. The corset wasn't there. I SAW IT! I stoned. Friend looked at me with that "Oh fuck Oh fuck" look and quickly grabbed the curtain to cover herself. It was a dream come true...well at least it will be once I get to dreaming about it tonight. Actually she swung it open to ask me to get her something for her not expecting me to be standing right there.

Did I mention Friend happens to be exceptionally spanking hot too?

What does it equate to?

2005-09-19T21:49:00.000+08:00

Not long ago I was introduced to this controversial mathematical equation....

Today I discovered the truth behind that equation. I don't want to profess failure yet, because there exists a teeny itsy bitsy chance that I did pass that paper I sat for.
It was totally ridiculous the way the questions were set. I could only do one question, and that, I did only half right. The rest of the questions were just crazy tough Engineering Council questions. No one expected them to appear (at least not so many) albeit the paper being one of the "Engineering Council" papers. I feel like a bluddy loser! I would have felt so much better if I really did not study and had to face failure, because then I'll know I deserved it. But this is totally shit...having studied like a motherfucking geek and still having to put up with a 91.2% chance of failure...now I wish I really didn't study.

I know I sound like a person who didn't study for the exams, screwed up and is now trying to cover his ass. Well, the truth is I really did study from morning till night at the library or college study room...as I have been doing for the past 5 weeks. It makes me feel a little better to know that everyone else...or at least a whole fucking lot of them are just as fucked as I am. Within an hour after the exam started, half of the 250 exam candidates for this paper left the hall. There was even this dude who came in 10 minutes late, and left the hall 20 minutes after that.

I feel utterly disappointed.

Still one fucking paper to go.

I feel so fucking out of steam and discouraged to study for this next paper...another Engineering Council paper.

Of Exams and Belly Buttons

2005-09-08T01:31:00.000+08:00

The exams starts tomorrow. Edwin will have his first paper tomorrow while my first paper only starts on friday. Stress levels have gone down a bit now that I've covered pretty much every bit of the syllabus. Problem is I don't seem to remember much of it. God will make a way I believe...He always does. Those of you whom have been praying for me, thank you...and continue praying harder.

During exams, I'm always either in my flat, or the library. Feels like some sort of curfew where I'm only allowed to be outdoors for not more than a couple of hours a day. In the past, I've gone through several days in a row without stepping foot out of my house. An as usual, I've prepared for the curfew.

We have enough food to last us the next two weeks of war with our enemy, the exams.

I accompanied Edwin to the JPJ office today. That stupid fella had his driver's license expire more than a month ago and he didn't realise it until someone else saw the expiry day stated on his license and informed him.

So we got there, I showed him where to go and took him through a route where no vultures would come in the way. What vultures? You see, there are these bastards always hanging around the JPJ carpark waiting for victims. The moment you get out of your car, they'd start asking you what's your business with JPJ. They then offer you their help without your consent.

Here's an experience I had with a vulture. I parked my car, got out and walked towards the building...and at the same time looking quite lost since it was my first time going there. So this lady walks up to me and goes in Cantonese "Handsome Boy! What do you want to do here?" . So I just told her "Renew license" and moved on (wonder how she knew my name though). She then followed me and stopped in front of me to continue talking...asking me shit like whether my license was a P or a CDL and how many years of renewal I wanted. So I told her nicely that I don't speak Chinese hoping to get rid of her, but she continued in Malay. That's when she started helping...with information about renewal, and how much it costs, and that I can only get a 3 year renewal plan only after my license expires and not before and bla bla bla bla bla...I thought it was fucking fishy. So I asked her where to go to get my shit done and she said "I'll get it done for you" . Oh how so nice of her. So she brought me to the office, showed me where I can get a photo and took a number for me, lined up for me, and got everything done...quite fast. No big deal really...coz I could have bluddy well done it just as fast as she could anyway. Then came the bomb. She tells me I owe her 15 bucks for that service she just gave me. And I'm like "How's about 10? You know lah...I student mah...no money wan mah"...and she insisted on the 15. So I gave her the 15 and told myself "I know what you look like now bitch. You're lucky I'm not good at drawing people's faces".

Anyways, Edwin and I went there during their lunch break and we had to wait a while before his turn came. Sitting where we were, we say this lil sign...

It reads "Haram: Baju Tayang Pusat" which, for you who still don't get it, or don't understand Malay, means "Forbidden: Clothes Revealing Belly Button" . At first I was a little confused as the word "Pusat" means center. It wasn't until like 5 minutes later that it hit me that "Pusat" also meant belly button. It really shocked me that JPJ offices actually have rules about revealing belly buttons. It's a sad country we live in. Just for fucks sake...MERDEKA! once again.

Flatmate From Hell - Part 3: Gone

2005-08-31T18:52:00.000+08:00

Is this merdeka or what. I got up today and bitch was all packed up ready to leave...just laming around waiting for her other bitches to come help her get her stuff. She disappeared to her room shortly after I got out of bed.

I took a crap and decided to have something to eat, only to notice that some of our food equipment have gone missing. I stood there for a while wondering where could 2 bowls and a plate disappear to overnight? You guessed it right, bitch packed it up along with her things. I shamelessly walked up to her stuff, opened one of the plastic bags and took back what belonged to me. Yes, she took one of MY bowls and one of MY plates. I don't know whose chopsticks were those in the plastic bag but it's not mine and I couldn't be bothered. In the plastic was also what I believe to be bernard's plate. But I didn't take it out as Bernard was no where to be found and I couldn't be really be bothered either. Come to think of it, bitch moved in with nothing except for a bag of clothes. Even table and chair and bed in her room was provided for her. That poor Bernard...she just stole his plate. BLUDDY MOTHERFUCKING THIEF!

That stupid fucking Chinese speaking (only) bitch. The first thing that really pissed me off about her moving out was that she didn't inform us about it at all. She just asked Edwin whether she needs to find a replacement should she want to move out. So we assumed she was going to move out and Edwin asked her when she was going to leave. She said she wasn't sure. And when she finally made up her mind on when she wanted to move, she just kept it all to herself. It wasn't until 2 nights ago that we found out about her moving out...and it wasn't until Edwin asked her when she'll be moving out that she told us. She was planning to move out without informing the chief tenant. What kind of a motherfucking human being does that?

Even more amazing is that she was planning on leaving without collecting the 325 bucks deposit that she paid when she moved in. But wait a minute, that wasn't even her money. That aunt of ours forked out that money when she came here. How inconsiderate! Just because she didn't have to work for that money, she'll just forget about it. Fine lah, since she doesn't want the money it's cool. But what about this month's electricity, water and internet bills? That's right, she didn't even bother asking us about the month's bills. She was planning to disappear like magic.

Around 5.30 p.m. today, her cronies showed up to help her move out of this place. They came in, grabbed all her stuff, and disappeared. They even took our stove. The stove belongs to neither one of us, I know. But the only reason the stove came about to being in this house was because I took the fucking trouble to ask my aunt for the fucking stove. Yes yes, the stove belongs to neither one of us, which means neither one of us have the fucking right to claim ownership over it, what more take it out of this house just because either one of us is moving out?

But looking at the bright side, Edwin and I are now richer by 325 bucks. She doesn't give us enough time to find a replacement tenant (did I mention she didn't even bother getting a replacement?), the deposit gets burned. Well of course we don't exactly have the money coz the money is with the landlord. But when the next tenant moves in, he/she will have to pay up 325 bucks as all tenants have to pay their deposits, then Edwin and I will be 325 bucks richer...for real. About the bills, I'm gonna make her pay for it...I don't fucking care. She can be irresponsible and unaccountable for all I care, but not with me. I'll make her pay us every fucking cent she owes us.
The best of all things now that she's gone is (besides the smelly towel not being in the living room anymore) is that Edwin and I now have a study....a nice lil room where we can blow our brains out for the coming exams.

Stressed = vomit

2005-08-28T22:41:00.000+08:00

It's a Sunday. I feel like a piece of shit. The weekend has been so fucking shitty...hence my feeling like shit. DOH!

Saturday...let's talk about Saturday. I chose not to study on Saturday and decided to attend to some of my customers. Well, there's this Indian lady...I've been serving her for a long time now. Just before I carry on...NO!, I'm not a gigolo. I sell and repair computers for a living. So I went to the Indian lady's house to fix some small problem which I had accidentally caused to become so big causing me to have to reformat her computer and then reinstalling every damn software (you have no idea). It took me 5 fucking hours. But getting paid after that was cool.

Then I came home to my family residence for like some few minutes and off it was to my neighbour's house to fix his computer. Now his was just a very very simple problem...but that, I fucked up too. Now his computer can't even be switched on and I can't fucking figure out why.

For some reason everything went wrong for me yesterday. It makes me wonder whether I'm just some really hopeless bastard or just a jinx. And I just realised a lot of you wouldn't want me coming near your computers.

Today I got up and started vomitting. Yes, it has begun...the exam sickness. I get like that everytime I'm stressed out. I hardly get any sleep, I get fucked up grumpy all the time and I vomit a lot.

My finals starts in about 10 days. I've spent the last 7 days studying already and progress is just not very encouraging.

I was studying at college today from like 2p.m till 8p.m. When I got to my car I realised...Hey, it's a fucking Sunday...no wonder the carpark is empty. And HEY, I'M STUDYING ON A SUNDAY?!

Some of you might be wondering...if I'm already so fucking out of time, what the hell am I doing spending this precious time of mine blogging? Well, I just really really have to blog. It's something I've been wanting to do for quite a while now. I don't have a reason for it, but I just have to.

I'm going mad over here my dear friends...for fucking real. If anyone has prayers to offer me, please just drop em off to God whenever you do pray. I know I don't sound like a very holy person and all that shit. But you guys have no idea how thankful I am to God for the miracles that I've been experiencing over the past year. A little prayer wouldn't hurt....so pray for me lah...can? No need to pay money wan lah.

Tumble and Fall

2005-08-14T18:24:00.000+08:00

Attention:All ye people who know my family, please don't tell them about this one entry

Last night Edwin and I went for a little boys' night out. We went over to Shaun Melvin's for a little house warming dinner at his new place in Kota Damansara. Then it was time for some beers with Kenny who leaves for the States on Tuesday.

So we were at the padang just having a couple of beers each. Kenny went to a corner of the lil gazebo we were chilling at to take a leak. Then Edwin took his turn some 15 minutes later. Then shortly after that I felt the urge to pee too. I went to the another corner of the little gazebo and got about business. Suddenly the world disappeared...no, I wasn't feeling so good that I felt the
world phased out...the world really did disappear. I blacked out. The next thing I knew, I was lying down rubbing my head which was at that time throbbing with pain.

Kenny and Edwin, whom were in shock and confusion at that time came over to see if I was okay.

Are you okay or not?Are you okay?
Wahlan cibai damn fucking pain man mahai!

I got up, discovered I was bleeding, realised what had happen and asked Kenny and Edwin to examine the wound. I was told that my head hit the bench at the gazebo as I fell.

I think you need stitches man.
Oh fuck man. Not again!
I think we better go to the hospital.
But I don't have money for a hospital. How's about we go to General Hospital...cheap cheap one.
You crazy ah...you know how far is that ah? Dunno you still alive or not by the time we reach there.
Okay lah.

So we went to Damansara Specialist Hospital which I knew charges more than I can afford from a head-stitching experience I once had there. And there I was, for another head stitching xperience. We went to the emergency reception area which was at that time the only place litted up. I walked up to the counter, explained what happened, and then had to go through a whole registration procedure which took no less than 10 minutes before they inspected my wound.
Turns out, I don't need stitches. Thank God.

The big swell topped with what the nurse calls a gash

Getting sprayed on the head with some sort of
antisceptic that burns like hell

The nurse cleans the wound and then brings me to the doctor's office where I sat down and explained to him that I was just having some innocent beers and I took an innocent pee and just passed out. I also explained to him that I can take large amounts of beer and still be alright. He then explains to me that this is pretty normal. Micturition syncope it's called and is pretty common amongst young adults under the influence of alcohol. This blogger calls it Piss-Fainting.

"Micturition syncope:The temporary loss of consciousness upon urinating. (Syncope is the temporary loss of consciousness or, in plain English, fainting). The situations that trigger this reaction are diverse and include having blood drawn, straining while urinating (micturition syncope) or defecating or coughing or swallowing). The reaction also can be due to the emotional stress of fear or pain.Under these conditions, people often become pale and feel nauseated, sweaty, and weak just before they lose consciousness. "

So something went wrong last night. Maybe it's something wrong with my diet, or maybe I was just stressed out, or too tired. I don't know and I don't really care. The doc says it's nothing serious and I need not worry about it. It did worry me a little at first becuase I've never fainted before no matter how tired or unhealthy I am. But doc says I'm alright, so I'm alright lah. The only negative consequence born out of this mishap is having to wash my hair at the sink with the help of Edwin.

Many thanks to Kenneth for ferrying me to the hospital and to Edwin for being my coolie, doing stuff like washing my hair and cleaning my wound.

Bad Air Day

2005-08-10T17:45:00.000+08:00

First we had the tsunami, and now the haze.

I took this picture on the July 11th, when for some reason, the sky decided to turn all red.
This evening, the sky turned grey, and so did everything else. This haze is starting to become a real pain in the ass. I smell firewood smoke everywhere and my nasal track is starting to feel really irritated.

The Star reports that according to the Meteorological Department, we might be putting up with this shitty level air quality right up till October.
As I was typing this, it suddenly rained heavily...for about 10 minutes. Now all hope of having the rain help clear the haze is no more. We'll just have to put up with those fucking Indons polluting our air every now and then.

Flatmate from hell - Part 2: The Experiment

2005-08-04T22:59:00.000+08:00

In order to dig deeper into the mind of a human being who couldn't care less about buying soap powder even for her own damn sake, an experiment has been devised and executed in order to draw conclusions.

Hypothesis: Bitch expects to be provided for and doesn't give a damn who pays for the supplies. Unless someone gets her soap powder, she's gonna be washing her clothes with nothing but water.

Apparatus: A 500g box of Breeze soap powder.

Procedure:
1) The box of soap powder is placed at the same spot where the old box of soap powder sits.
2) Box is checked three times a day until box is opened.
3) Any changes in condition of box is observed and recorded.

Observations:
The box appears to have been forced open at the upper corner 2 days after being placed in position.

Box was found to be open in that fashion(as shown in picture) at 9.41am on 4 August 2005. I got out of bed that morning to take a leak when I came across the locked toilet door. Not more than 10 minutes later the door opened revealing the face of the culprit, which at that moment was only a suspect. The box went through its standard morning inspection and the above forced entry was discovered. Just to be sure that bitch was the one responsible for this, I decided to check with Edwin and Bernard, the other 2 inhabitants. But before that could possible be done, I stumbled upon the a pair of wet socks hanging on the clothes line. This pair of socks appears to belong to bitch. Still, I checked with Edwin and Bernard when I had the chance to just to be sure. Edwin and Bernard denies touching my box of soap powder. They pointed out that they understood how important this experiment is and that touching the apparatus could cause them a black eye.

Conclusion: This experiment was fun. I had a good time. Ultimately, it can be concluded that bitch will wash her clothes with only water unless soap powder is provided. In addition to that, this experiment also proves that bitch has little or no regard for other people's property. She'll just open up anything she wants to and use it all up.

Interesting points to note:

Bitch seems to not learn from previous incidents. The previous box was also forced opened the same way this new box was. The previous box of soap powder was first opened up by they owner, myself, by punching a hole in the perforated side of the box. I believe bitch realises existence that the hole on the side of the box which I punched in because there is no way soap powder can be poured out from the top without first spilling out through the sides. Still bitch tears open the top of the new box.

Guess some people will never learn.

Good news is bitch will be moving out next month. Bad news is, the next tenant might be even worse.

Flatmate from hell

2005-08-01T14:04:00.001+08:00

Oh I have so much to bitch about.

Everyone of us staying away from home would definitely have encountered at least one(1) house/flat/room mate whom is either smelly or dirty or noisy or inconsiderate or irritating or all of the mentioned attributes at the same time. This is made worse when you have not one(1) but two (2) or three (3) of these sorta dickheads living under the same roof all together. But...thankfully there is only one(1) in this flat of mine.

So this is the story of my flatmate, my one and only female flatmate. No, she is not hot. She's not that ugly either, but after living with her for the past 2 months, her face sure as hell pisses me off everytime I look at it.

The problem:
For some reason this bitch (I shall just call her bitch for the rest of the post) just doesn't talk much at all. In fact, she hasn't spoken shit to me at all since she moved in here besides the words "How to print?".

Now, bitch is a distant cousin of mine. She's from a little town in Johor, and during the first few weeks of college, she'd follow me back to my place(in DU) during the weekends. From my place, an aunt of ours whom lives in Subang will come pick her up and put up with her for the weekend. The first weekend, not knowing her too well, I made all the arrangements to take her back to my place. Not much of a problem except that I took her back to my place around 3pm not knowing that my aunt was only gonna come get her at 10pm and that stupid bitch didn't even bother to tell me what time that aunt of ours was gonna come get her. So for that entire saturday evening, I sat at home waiting for my aunt to come get her as there was no one else at home besides me...and of course bitch whom was waiting.

The following weekend, I asked her on Thursday night whether she's following me back for the weekend as I would be taking off around 12pm Friday. She said "ok". Another thing about bitch...she speaks zero English. And yes, I did ask her this in mandarin...my mandarin is poor, but I put much effort into making sure that I pronounce short little phrases with proper pronunciation.
So she said "Ok" and I told her that we'll be leaving at around 12 on Friday. I come home around 12 on that Friday, grabbed my stuff and turned on the tube while waiting for her. For a very long while she just sat somewhere in the hall...silent. Thinking that she was waiting for me I asked in mandarin "So are you following me back?". "Oh, I have classes tomorrow" she replied in mandarin. Now why the fuck couldn't she have told me that earlier knowing that we had already made arrangements for that Friday afternoon? I brushed it off and decided to make my way home.

The following weekend after that, I asked her on Friday night whether she'd be following me home that Saturday and she said, in mandarin, "My aunty is very busy". I wonder what's up with these Chinese speaking people (no offense to you if you are one...besides, I'm a racist). Nothing they say is direct. It's always something with an indirect implication. Bitch doesn't want to follow me back, she doesn't know how to say something more direct like "I'm not following you back coz of classes the next day" or just a simple fucking "no". Instead she has to give me the "My aunty is very busy". HELLO! I'M NOT ASKING YOU IF YOUR AUNTY IS BUSY OR NOT! I'M ASKING YOU WHETHER YOU'RE COMING ALONG WITH ME! JUST A SIMPLE FUCKING YES OR NO!
So anyways, she said our aunt was busy so I took it that she's not following me back. That Saturday morning I got up, went to college, came home, packed my stuff and suddenly she pops up in front of me "I follow you back!". So I's say "I thought your aunty is very busy?". Then she says "I call her and check". I packed my goods, turned on the tube and waited. For almost an hour I waited and she didn't come out from her room. When she did I asked "So are you ready?" and then she says again "Oh, aunty is very busy". RIGHT! NOW WHY THE FUCK COULDN'T SHE HAVE THE FUCKING BRAINS TO TELL ME THAT INSTEAD OF MAKING ME WAIT?

The following weekend...I couldn't be bothered fuck to ask her anymore. I woke up that Saturday, packed my things and got ready to take off...Bernard(peace keeper), opens his door in time to stop me.

Eh, bitch is following you back.
Oh is that so? Well you tell her I'm abandoning her. If she doesn't know how to make arrangements, I'll just have to leave her here. You tell her that until she learns how to make arrangements, she's not getting any.
Eh, you serious ar?
Yes. You tell her what I said. Bye.

I proceeded to the elevator . As if bad luck was waiting at the door, it opened and bitch popped up in front of me and went "Eh, I'm following you back today". I could have killed that fucking bitch. What really puts me in bewilderment is why on earth does she tell it to Bernard and not me, when I'm the fucker who's gonna drive her home and not Bernard. And even more mind boggling is how she can be so stupid as to make arrangements with our uncle(our aunt's hubby lah) to come pick her up from my family residence at 3pm when she didn't even know whether we'd be back by 3.

I went to college that day, came back to the flat, picked her up, went to Low Yat Plaza, then went back to DU. And get this...someone sat in my passenger seat the night before and left the seat in a reclined position the night before, and throughout the entire journey she sat in the passenger seat with it reclined while straining to look over the dash at the same time. Why didn't she just say something about it considering how awkward it was?
I gave her the look which said "you sure you wanna sit in that position?". She noticed I was looking at her and she pretended to look elsewhere. I shook my head in exasperation and pretended she wasn't there. If she doesn't know how to open her mouth to ask, nothing shall be given to her. It's a lesson she has to learn on her own.

What ticked me off even more is this smelly towel of hers. I've witnessed her taking it out of a plastic bag after coming back from a night's stay at her friend's place. The damn towel stinks so fucking bad. I'm puzzled as to how a bath towel, used for wiping a clean, already washed human body, can smell so bad. The bluddy floor rug outside the bathroom which everyone in this flat uses to wipe their feet many many times a day doesn't even smell half as bad as her bath towel.

When I moved in, I bought a box of soap powder for those days when I run out of clean clothes and desperately need to wash them just so I'll have clothes to wear the next day. Bitch used it up and left the empty box where I last put it.

It's been more than 3 weeks and that empty box is still sitting there. I can't understand how is it a human being can have the audacity to exploit another person's belongings and then leave the empty packaging behind. What's even more interesting to note is that she didn't bother to buy more soap powder be it even for her own damn sake. She went on washing her clothes for the past 3 weeks with nothing but WATER! How I know this you ask. Very simple...I took a whiff of her clothes which she hung out to dry. They all smelled like Indonesian construction workers. I just don't get it, how can anyone do that? I wonder howcome common sense hasn't told her that the 24-7 convenience store just an elevator's ride away. And even if there wasn't any soap powder, at least use shampoo or bath foam or something. I'd use toothpaste if I was desperate enough.

And then there's the panties. Now this is really disgusting. Edwin and I noticed that she only has three(3) pairs of panties. A green grandma one, a grey one (shown in picture) and a black one. And no, we're not perving on her undies...I have better girls to perve on. We noticed that she only hangs out (are you ready for this?) a pair of panties a week. ONLY ONE(1) PAIR PER WEEK! Seriously! How disgusting is that? This obviously proves that she puts up with her icky dirty panties which comes in direct contact with her you know what for 7 days in a row!

What am I gonna do about her?

Girls To Never Date

2005-07-28T23:27:00.000+08:00

I'm sure a lot of us out there has experienced all sorts of girls/guys but here are 4 kinds of girls whom I will remember to keep an eye out for so I can avoid them and spare myself the agony of going out on dates with them.

The Princess

This is the sort of bitch that will take forfucking ever to get ready when you go pick her up. She gets out of her house after leaving you to wait forfucking ever only to give you that look which says "Don't you got a better set of wheels than this? You don't expect me to get into that thing do you?" but gets into the car anyways...OH but not before she stands there forever expecting you to open the door and guide her in by the hand when she can bluddy do without it. She then looks at you and gives you that look which says "Eww... You're going out with me dressed in that?". Then when you reach the restaurant she gives you that other look which says "We have to eat here?"

Definitely a pain in the ass.

The Shadow

Now this bitch is even worse than the princess. She's the super possessive sort that won't leave you alone at all. She'll be 'there for you' at every bluddy moment. You'll be getting calls from her a gazillion times a day to check on where you are and whether you love her or not. Any unanswered calls or smses will stir fury within her and you'll be sure to catch her in a fit of rage the next time you see her. You are not allowed to be near any other girls without her permission and if you do, better make sure she doesn't find out, coz when she does, there's gonna be trouble. She stops talking to you but that's only the beginning. What you'll really hate is having her tell everyone that you're cheating on her. Bottomline is she'll cling on to you like dirt in your nails and there's not a moment you'll be off her watch.

Definitely a pain in the ass.

The Mother Hen

This one's as annoying as your mom can get, only even worse. She'll be checking each and every detail of your everything. From the way your shirt's tucked in to the way you walk to the way you drive to the way you eat. FUSSY FUSSY FUSSY! And that's not the worse part. Wait till she starts nagging at you for every damn fucking thing.

Note: Has little to almost no effect on those with hearing disabilities.

Definitely a pain in the ass.

The Debate Queen

This one I can testify to. She's my mom. You are always wrong because you just
are. It rains and she gets wet, it's your fault. She goes to a restaurant and suddenly gets a tummy ache, it's your fault. She steps on dog poo, it's your fault. Don't bother defending yourself because you are just always wrong and she's well, always fucking right all the fucking time.

"See, I told you already not to eat at this stupid restaurant, now you see, I step on dog shit and then my stomach so painful and somemore my hair all wet from the rain. TOLD YOU ALREADY not to eat there but you don't want to listen."

"But sayang, I took out umbrella for you and I warned you about the dog shit and I told you not to eat all the durian for lunch if not your stomach will feel one kind because you always sakit erut (tummy ache) everytime you eat too much durian"

"Oh, so this one my fault lah! TOLD YOU NOT TO GO TO THAT RESTAURANT BUT YOU DON WANT TO LISTEN. IF WE HAD GONE SOMEWHERE ELSE ALL THIS WOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED"

DEFINITELY A PAIN IN THE ASS!

Xanga sucks

2005-07-27T20:22:00.000+08:00

It's the 27th of July...the day Kenny was born...and also the day Lyn was born...AND also, the day me new shit pot is born!

Not that I know for sure that blogger is any better than xanga, but I sure as hell am fed up with the fact that only xanga users can post on xanga and I can't put up links of sites that do not begin with www.xanga.com.
So this will be it, my new non-halal shit pot.
I don't care if the blog looks boring, I don't care if the blog don't do fantastic shit. As long as it links and enables visitors to post, it's a deal.