Thursday, June 30, 2005

 

Malaysian Idol and the Kar Wei uproar

The uproar in the online forums on why 17-year old 6th form schoolgirl, Lee Kar Wei, was eliminated by the judges, for the Malaysian Idol top 24 contestants, refuses to abate. You may remember Kar Wei. She was a guest singer in last year’s Malaysian Idol Finals in Genting. She was only 16 at that time but she blew the audience away with her singing. The shock that followed her departure is nationwide. On Tuesday night, the 8TV Quickie announced that M.I. judge Paul Moss would turn up on Wednesday night on TV to explain why Kar Wei was rejected.

So last night I waited. Till 12 midnight.

Where were you, Paul? You had something better to do? Well, so had I. But I dropped whatever shit I was doing and waited patiently to hear your side of the story!
Till 12 midnight!


Did he show up on TV? Big fucking NO.

Did he give a reason why? Another big fucking NO.

Look around you, Paul.
Is it dark? Does the air smell funny?
Isn’t it obvious that your head is up your ass?
And you couldn’t find your way out to come to the 8TV studios? Is that it?


You know what I think? I think that Kar Wei was eliminated because she was a favourite to win. Her problem was a Low Humpability Factor. The winner of Malaysian Idol gets a recording contract and the recording company has to promote the album. This is a tough business. The most successful singers are those who have good looks. Then girls want to be you and guys want to hump you.

Kar Wei looks like a vegetable gardener. On a humpability scale of 1 to 10, I’ll rate her a 2. Her teeth are funny and she moves funny. Her face is plain and her figure is out of shape. If she wins the Malaysian Idol crown, it will be a disaster for the record company. So she has to be eliminated at all costs.

Is my theory correct, Paul? Maybe, maybe not.
But I so wanted to hear your side of the story. I gave you the opportunity to explain the shitty decision that you and the other two retarded judges made.
Still unable to pull your head out yet?
While you're in there, stick your tongue out, Paul.
Like the taste of your own shit?
No? Well, neither do we!


I remember Paul saying that Kar Wei had “limited talent” during the Theatre Auditions on Day 3. The fans didn’t buy it. Kar Wei came onto the 8TV show last night and asked what Paul meant by that. If Kar Wei was not a good enough singer, do you think that 8TV would have invited her to appear on TV?

Here’s a tip, Paul. Keep your tongue sticking out as you pull your head out of your butt. It dredges your colon clean of fecal matter. I don’t have to explain to you the wonders of colonic irrigation, do I?
‘Limited talent’ my ass.
That excuse was so limpdick that a ton of Viagra couldn’t pull it up to stay at half mast.


In last night’s TV appearance, hosts Adam and Marion asked Kar Wei to sing a few lines from a song, and she obliged. I think the fans are going to be convinced more than ever that the judges were wrong in eliminating her. And Adam said that Paul did not turn up to explain why because he was too chicken. Chicken? That explains a lot.

Now listen, you three lame ass retro-products of evolution masquerading as song judges. We fans vote with our own money to make your show a fucking success and you think you don’t owe us any explanation? You think you can just treat us as discarded backlane whores? We are the ones footing the bill, not you! We fucking pay your salaries!

The mindless drivel you spew out as fair comments often make less sense than a virgin dick shagging a hornet’s nest. And after every show, my IQ drops 20 points until its only 50 points higher than the combined total of you three.

But did you hear me complain? The fact that I am willing to listen to crawly lowlifes like you for the SECOND year running testifies to my infinite patience, and not because you sound remotely intelligent.

And how did you three get to be picked as judges? Were you picked for your ability to listen to music with your ears boxed tightly inside your ass passage? Don’t you find the echo in there annoying? Well, we fans are annoyed even if you aren’t. And it’s taking us all the self-control we can muster not to bitchslap you three wormlike freaks into a threesome monotonal lullaby shitfest.

I strongly suggest that you go back to kindergarten and study the basics of “do-re-mi” again. Don’t you dare fail! Again! And this Friday, when I next tune in to Malaysian Idol, please take the effort to make more intelligible noises than a half-squashed cicada’s fart! Dumbasses.



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Wednesday, June 29, 2005

 

Please don't get suspended, okay?

Who would have thought that the month of June would be a month of suspensions?

First, we had a minister threatening to suspend a technician for one month because of dim lighting.

Then we had a deputy minister suspended for 3 months.

Just when we thought that it was safe for the chicken to cross the road, we got a vice-president suspended for 6 years, or 72 months.

A Serious Analytical Mind would immediately spot the pattern here:

1 month, 3 months, and then 72 months.

Holy shit……this figure is going up exponentially!

The fourth guy to be suspended is gonna get it big. And I mean BIG!.

Plotting these figures on a graph, a Serious Analytical Mind would be able to tell how much the 4th guy is gonna get.





Lookit that….the 4th guy’s gonna get 3600 months! And 3600 months is 300 years. The graph cannot be wrong!

Wait. There are some of you who will not believe what you see on a graph without an equation. So a Serious Analytical Mind would have worked out this approximate equation in advance:

y = - 809x + 1491.92x² - 820.5x³ + 138.58x².x²

Just put in the value of 4 for ‘x’, and that should give you the answer 3600 or thereabouts.
Are you convinced now? Or do I have to dazzle you with some more mathematics?

Whatever you do, don’t be the 4th guy to get suspended. If I were you, I’ll watch my behavior very closely for the rest of the month.

If you see a seductive slut out cold, behave yourself.
If you see some ducks and goats unattended, behave yourself.
If you see a tree trunk with a hole in it, behave yourself.

There will always be morons who do not understand the gravity of the situation.
“Oh….. 300 years only is it? Kacang, lah

You know that these people are nothing more than fucking idiots, right?

They are idiots for two reasons.

Firstly, they are not smart enough to come to this blog to pick up the necessary information, where a Serious Analytical Mind has already done all the hard work in preparing the graph and the calculations for everybody. Only the very brilliant people, like you, know how to come here to be suitably enlightened.

Secondly, they don’t understand that 300 years is a very, very long time.

How long is 300 years? Too damn long.

Let’s just say that after your suspension period is over, your mother would not recognize you.

SO, YOU BETTER BEHAVE YOURSELF, OKAY?


Alright, the analytical part of the post is over.

The next part of the post is meant for those of you who are reading this because you came here via a link from Minishorts site, where I was described as:

18 PL for sure. Insane mind recommended, and please proceed with care.”

Frankly, you don’t look insane to me. The very fact that you are here implies that you are a very brilliant person. Potentially a rocket scientist. Being a Jedi, I can peer down the network lines to your monitor, and I think that, wa lau eh, you are very good looking also! I seriously think that you should go back to the Minishorts site and paste these words in her comment board:

“Dear Minishorts: You are wrong. Viewtru has a SERIOUS ANALYTICAL MIND. The incredible things that we learned from him have metamorphosed us into Valuable Assets of society. Really!”

A word of caution. Please do not flame her site or use unflattering descriptions like “hallucinating biatch” or “brainfarting maggot” on her blog.

Okay, maybe just once or twice. But not more than 263 times, okay? I can’t afford to get into a flame war with her fans. Her readership is a least double that of mine. In a tit-for-tat battle, my tat may not be a match for her tits.


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Tuesday, June 28, 2005

 

A touch of Zen

Master Gensha (831-908)

Monk: “Where can I enter Zen?”
Gensha: “Can you hear the babbling brook?”
Monk: “Yes, I can hear it.”
Gensha: “Then enter there.”


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Writing sexual and non-sexual humour

This blog has got an 18-PL rating from Minishorts. That girl is amazing. She’s on holiday and still finds time to blogwhore her friends. And she reads a lot of 18-PL sites.

But I wanted a U rating!

I use expletives very sparingly. Every sentence I write, I asked myself repeatedly, “Should I use the word “fuck” in this sentence or not? If not, why not?”

You see the amount of care I take to avoid corrupting your sensibilities?

I’m beginning to suspect that I didn’t get the U-rating because of the liberal doses of sexual humour that I can’t seem to control in this blog. But I don’t do that every day. Only every other day. Okay, maybe 3 out of 4 days!

One of my most successful articles has been a non-sexual one. This article, ‘The objective of STPM is to pass people?’ has been emailed by people throughout the country and also duplicated in other blogs and forums.

There has been feedback that even teachers quoted this nonsensical article in classrooms to impress upon students that they should not get too swollen headed if they passed the STPM government exams. Since teachers are willing to use my article as a valuable educational tool in the classroom, then maybe it’s time that I re-write the school syllabus for them! (That was a joke, okay?)

In retrospect, had I known that the STPM article was going to spread like wildfire, I would have written it much better. When I re-read it later, it did appear patchy by my usual standards. I wish I could take it all back and rewrite the damn thing. But it’s too late now.

The trouble with writing humour is that it is often difficult to know what works and what doesn’t. You can write a brilliant piece and other people don’t seem to think that it’s all that great. But you write a dumb article and many people treat it as the best thing since blowjobs were legally allowed.

Oh, by the way, blowjobs are still not legally allowed, but that’s not the issue here.

If you are thinking of injecting humour, either in your blog or in your college essay, there are not a lot of areas where you can be truly original. Somebody, somewhere in the world, has probably told a similar joke. What you can do is probably take a fresh approach, like the remake an old movie.

Dave Letterman has been a source of inspiration. Many of his jokes are actually corny and mediocre. But the delivery is masterful! And he can still get a laugh out of them! That is where he stands out.

I often visit American and British humour sites and benchmark my own work against theirs. It is difficult to maintain objectivity, I know! We are bloggers, so we tend to think that our work is far far better than anybody else’s!
Hahahahaha! Ooooooooh….the ego! But what to do?

Also, readers and writers don’t always have the same objective. I get a tremendous orgasm from writing something original and creative. If I don’t laugh myself silly while writing it, I may actually chuck it aside and write something else. Or just post only 3 sentences later.

But readers have a different purpose. They like a good read to fortify their minds before they go out and face the world. Originality doesn’t impress them. They just want a good laugh. Can’t say I blame them. I want a good laugh myself.

When our purposes meet, it is beautiful.

When they don’t, we’ll try again another day.

See? I manage to write this article without using the word “fuck”.

Now, gimme my U-rating already!

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Monday, June 27, 2005

 

I wuz da Invisible Man

Today’s post is meant for broadminded adults only.

You people are not going to let this issue die a natural death, is it? Frankly, I am deeply puzzled by all the undue attention. I don’t know if I should be flattered or flabbergasted.

At first I said that I was not going to the PPS Bash.
But you guys thought I went incognito.

5xmom blogged about it.
Joanne Low blogged about it
Vincent blogged about it.

Then I said that I was not going to answer that question.

Lucia expressed her disappointment for not having smelt me.
FireAngel wanted her money back. (Wut money?)
Suanie threw in an acronym rapper expletive.
Hliew invented an emoticon expletive.
Minishorts threatened to cry. Yeah......like I believed her.
Even CHiQ got into the act.

I was asked to give 10 reasons why I did not go. Like Doc Liew. Frankly, I don’t understand why doc liew needed to give 10 reasons. If he didn’t want to go anywhere, he could just write out a medical chit for himself, can’t he? Those are the perks of being a doctor, man!

Good thing I managed to get some much needed moral support from cool michaelooi, tsewei and Leona.

But all these questioning is making me nervous. And highly strung.

Okay, okay! I give up! I’ll admit it! I went to the Bash!

But you did not know. Cos nobody saw me!

I didn’t go incognito. I went as da Invisible Man!

Of course I can be invisible. I’m a Jedi, aren’t I?

So there I was, standing there besides the lot of you all-evening, listening to all your dumb jokes, eating your dumb food, peeing dumbly against the walls, and posing for dumb photos with everybody.

As an invisible man, I couldn’t go up to the waiter and order food, can I? So I just went to the kitchen and helped myself. The cooks just could not understand how the food could have vanished mysteriously into thin air. So they had to cook up a fresh batch.

Do you understand now why your orders took SO LONG to come?

Oh yes, I did pose for photos with you people.

Take a look at this picture.



See the famous Penang blogger on the chair?
See the cun chio chick(as described by J infinitium) striking up a ‘James Bond’ pose?
See me standing besides the cun chio chick, also striking up a ‘James Bond’ pose?

Of course you can’t see me. This picture was taken by a low-tech baka camera.

But I was there!

The intelligent ones among you would have noticed that the table was higher than it should be. Strange, ain’t it?

Strange, my ass. I caused the table to rise. But we’ll get to the explanation later.

What I want to show you now is the same shot taken by a Klingon anti-cloaking camera. The Klingons(from Star Trek) are known for their cloaking technology. Visibility and invisibility are peanuts to them. An invisible man would show up in this Klingon camera shot.





Okay! You see me now? With my cool ‘James Bond’ pose?

The Klingon camera is equiped with ‘physique enhancement’ features, thus making invisible people look impressive in the best possible light. Which is a far better feature than the stupid ‘anti-red eye’ feature in the low-tech baka camera. See how ribbed I look? Who da Man?

This is the moment when the prudes among you would hyperventilate and scream,
“Eeeeeeeeek! He’s naked!”

Of course I had to be naked! I could become invisible. But my clothes couldn’t! They’re too dumb to master the art of invisibility! No use even trying to teach them. I had to shuck my clothes in the car and walk naked into Charlie’s Place. Nobody knew I was there. Nobody, except the fucking mosquitoes!

So there I was, in my best James Bond pose, standing behind the table. A group of female bloggers walked by, wiggling their cute asses as they passed. I started getting a hardon……and the table started to rise.

Man….I sure wuz shocked that the thingy could lift such a heavy table.
Who da Man?

Okay, let’s take a look at the next pic.



This one was taken with a low-tech baka camera. It showed two of the rawkingest party animals at the Bash. You can’t tell from the pic what they are trying to kiss, but whatever it is, it’s obviously tilted firmly at an angle.

Do you know how I was positioned in this picture?
Would you like to know?
Of course you would, you fucking perverts!

Alright, let me show you the same shot taken with the Klingon camera.

Oooooooh……..wow……..can’t show you this one. Sorry! Better delete it!

* Deletes Klingon camera shot.*

Let me tell you that it was bloody murder, walking around naked with a pole protruding out front. I kept bumping into people everywhere I turned.

I turned to the left.

Wap!

I turned to the right, and yet another group of female bloggers rushed by.

Wap! Wap! Wap! Wap! Wap!

The thing was bruised by the time I got home. Had to use some Tiger Balm to rub it back into shape. Used up a whole bottle of Tiger Balm in fact. I may need to go down to Singapore to get some more. Maybe I should try going over without a passport. Gonna get to the causeway, shuck my clothes, turn invisible, and walk across nonchalently. Who da Man?


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Saturday, June 25, 2005

 

Malaysian Idol: Theatre eliminations

Day 1

Nothing particularly exciting worth mentioning on the first day. Most of the Malaysian Idol hopefuls were required to perform on a theatre stage and at the end of the day, only 74 would be sent to the next round. So there certainly was a lot of practicing and practicing outside the theatre, with each singer practicing without unduly disturbing the others.

Except for this Fat Kampung Rocker. He would practice at the top of his voice. And get everybody else really pissed off! One girl described him as the Malaysian version of Constantine(American Idol finalist). And then she added, “I think he’s Constipate!”

Constipate my ass. Fat Kampung Rocker got thru’ to the next round.


Day 2

The 74 singers who got through from Day 1 were required to perform a duet. People were paired off by the judges and they would have to choose appropriate songs. This led to several bad song choices as the singers didn’t really understand each other. In fact, the teamwork was atrocious! Like goats trying to bleat in tune with ducks.

You should never pick a song that your partner can’t sing. And you should always stick to the format you practiced so as not to throw off your partner during the actual performance. That’s what some of them found out too late.

The only bright spot was this performance by a Red-haired Anorexic Girl who partnered a Short Cute Boy(called Daniel). They sang “Fire” and it was comparatively good. The judges lapped it up like starving cats.

Fat Kampung rocker made a mess of his song but he was told, to his surprise, that he got through to the next round. He celebrated by yelling at the TV camera, “Orang Kampung!” Now, we all know that Orang Kampung is a brand of the sex herb kacip fatima, the backyard version of Viagra for women, don’t we? I’ve blogged about kacip fatima, before, I believe. So what’s Fat Kampung Rocker’s connection with Orang Kampung? Is he peddling the stuff?

At the end of the day, 51 singers were left.


Day 3

Participants were required to sing the songs picked by the judges. Those who were asked to sing “Gemilang” fared badly. There was one girl with a good voice, nice figure, and she looked like a ‘7’ on a humpability scale of 1 to 10. Her mind went more or less blank when she sang “Gemilang” and she was given the opportunity to sing again. However, she chose to bow out. Which was a pity. Cos you don’t often get a ‘7’ appearing on Malaysian Idol.

The reason why only nice looking girls should be encouraged to sing on TV is because if you don’t like the song, you can always hump the TV. Don’t try this at home. Damn, what am I talking about…….it’s YOUR TV, not mine! Okay, try it and tell me the results. Should be fun to blog about.

I thin Nita, the slim Penang cafe singer got through to the final 24. Nice chick. Slightly on the thin side. Humpability factor 6.

Fat Kampung Rocker also got through. Humpability factor zero. And again he shouted “Orang Kampung” at the TV camera. I’m starting to like the guy. Even thinking of going out to buy me a bottle of kacip fatima. Then again, better not. It may have strange effects on males and make me horny for goats and ducks.

At the end of the day, only 24 were left. I'm not sure about the rules, but I think from this point onwards, the public will get to vote for their favourites. I’ve lots of money left unused on my prepaid handphone account. More than a hundred ringgit, I believe. Yes! Takes very little to make me happy, doesn't it?


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I’m not answering, okay?

Yesterday, my internet connection was downright uncooperative. How uncooperative was it? Well, let’s just say that if gets any more uncooperative, I will have to suspend its privileges for 3 months.

I had written the ‘Chin Tu Lan’ article and prepared the pictures very early in the morning, and I thought it was just a simple matter to post it off. But I couldn’t get through to the Blogger host site to post the article until past 10 a.m. Then when I finally managed to post it, I discovered that I had made an error in the html coding, so the ‘Bush’ picture did not show up. It was not until after 11 a.m. that I managed to get through to Blogger to fix it. During that one hour in between, the people who visited this blog did not get corrupted by the Bush pic. Damn! I gave up on the internet after that.

Normally, I would often log onto the internet when I get home. But yesterday was ‘Malaysian Idol’ night. And you know that I am a sucker for 2-hour TV shows that stimulates my intelligence. Heheheh!

So, this morning, I read all your comments on yesterday’s posting, and I was like “Wow! What happened?” Instead of focusing on the pictures which I had taken some great efforts to prepare, most of you were actually wondering if I went to the PPS Bash incognito!

Did I actually go to the PPS Bash incognito?

I am not going to answer that question!

If I answer “No”, there will always be people doubting me. The first thing that people ask when they come to this blog is “What unbelievable bullshit is Viewtru going to tell us this time?” I’m a victim of my own inane image!

If I answer “Yes”, people will spend time pouring over all the pictures wondering which guy is me standing in the background. This is unproductive time spent, because you will never know! If you really have so much time, may I suggest that you spend it in a more exciting manner, such as rock climbing, or sex, okay?

And another thing; whether I attended or not is not even relevant. The point is, you people had fun didn’t you? And you can’t deny that you had fun! Wasn’t this the chief reason why you people read and write blogs? Having good clean fun, okay?

Okay, I want to quickly write my Malaysian Idol post now. Because I have this driving need to write a really intellectual article once in a while.


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Friday, June 24, 2005

 

Chin Tu Lan blogs the PPS Bash

My congratulations go to Kenny Sia for taking the PPS Blogger of the Year Award, Simon for getting the Neophyte of the Year Award, and Jeff Ooi for the Ping of the Year Award. You are all deserving winners.

It looks like everybody had fun. I wish I could have been there to see the action.

But never mind. My guest blogger, Chin Tu Lan, is updating me on the details. And Kenny, you deserve to win. Don’t let my guest blogger tell you any different!


Disclaimer: The rest of the post is meant for adults only. Minors are requested to go to a more suitable site, like Yahoo.





Chin Tu Lan blogging the PPS Bash


Last night I went for a quiet dinner at this restaurant, Charlie’s Place. Wah lau eh, so many people. Like a bloggers’ convention or something. But the waiter said that it was some blogger’s birthday or 2nd anniversary. Got nowhere to sit, so I simply sit at other peoples’ table and said that I am also a blogger. Got use my head a bit mah.

I wanted to order the grilled butterfish but the waiter said got no more. So I ordered the lamb. I was hungry, so I told him “fasta”. He misheard me and came back with pasta. Like that also got. Don’t eat also have to pay money, so I ate lor.

I dunno what kind of birthday it was, but seemed like nobody wanted to become the M.C. People kept asking this specky girl in a black top, who looked like a school headmistress, to come out and take charge. But she kept resisting. In the end only they manage to get one fella to come out to tell some jokes and also organize the meeting. And much later on, they started giving out awards.

I was so surprised that the underground blogger, Viewtru, did not win anything. Not even a singlet. Like that how can? I think ah, these people don’t know how to vote one. This is a third world country, mah, so they don’t know how to prioritize. In a democracy, you should always vote for the one with the biggest scherlong. Like in the first world countries.

Last time during the American elections the time, the people had to choose between Senator Kerry and George Bush. So people want to know if they got good scherlong or not. You know lah, these are both old men. So they need a bit of help from Wiagra.

So the reporter asked Kerry, “Senator, you take Wiagra, got effect or not?”

Then the senator answered:



Got some improvement leh.

Then the reporter asked Bush, “Mr President, you take Wiagra got effect or not?”

Then Bush answered.



After that the public went to vote for Bush. Like that mah! These first world people know what is important. Not economic policy or foreign policy. But physical dimensions!

I think our people here don’t understand the proper concept of democracy. Viewtru, with his big scherlong should have won big. How can you base your voting on inconsequential stuff like blog content, blog presentation, blog ideas and blog layout? These things are not important one, mah. No wonder people say we got first world infrastructure but third world voting mentality. Okay, Viewtru not paying me enough. Otherwise I rant some more.

Then they passed around the birthday cake. One girl from Penang offered me some. So I said to her, “I don’t like cake. You got rotiboy or not?”
She looked at me one kind.

Anyway, I looked around a bit and saw this cun chick in red striped long sleeved T-shirt. I tried to talk to her but out every 10 words she said, nine are 4-letter words. Eight I can stand, but not nine. She said she very stressed. Fuck the stress, I told her.

Then I walked around summore and saw this other girl in a light blue sleeveless thing. I don’t understand why people can wear a T-shirt and still claim that they wore nothing. Cheating one. I looked properly and I know that underneath the T-shirt she also got wear something. Like that also got. I want to look some more, but the specky school headmistress came and blocked the view. Fed up.


So I walked around hoping that some more babes may be impressed with the bulge in my pants, maybe pick me up and take me home. But the babes all ignored me. Why like dat? Like I said before, they all got third world mentality one leh.

So I went home lor. And I removed all the 5 pairs of rolled up socks I had stuffed down the front of my underpants. Waste of time only.

Oh, somebody was passing around a piece of paper and the bloggers wrote their phone numbers on it. When it came to my turn, I put it in my pocket and forgot about it. So now I have all the cun babes’ private phone numbers. Maybe I will give them a call.

This is Chin Tu Lan signing off.


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Thursday, June 23, 2005

 

Happy 2nd anniversary PPS!!!

Tonight is the PPS Bash night! A night where bloggers meet to discuss intergalactic events while feeding their faces. Have you noticed that every time Malaysian bloggers meet, there has to be FOOD? I mean, they don’t hold their meetings in badminton halls or tennis courts. The meeting is always held in a makan place. ALWAYS!

I see that the agenda for the PPS Bash is not yet out, but the MENU, including prices, is already out on several sites! Hahahahaha!!! I tell ya, these bloggers have got to be my favourite kind of people!

Did I hear that Minishorts is turning up wearing nothing? Oooooh….the press is attending, they’ll luv that! I hope Suanie doesn’t gross everybody out by eating worms as she threatened! Will Kenny bring his coconuts? Yeah, the press will have a field day!

I wish to announce that I have a guest blogger tomorrow in this blog to write on the PPS Bash at Charlie’s Place. So behave yourselves okay? Or better still......don’t behave yourselves!

If you’re not sure what food to order for tonight, well, the lamb shank looks good!


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Posting for record purposes

I need to get this off my chest.

My regular readers know that I have studiously avoided mentioning all these while that I am a finalist for the PPS Blog of the Year Award(winner to be announced tonight). That’s because I’m practicing to be a Jedi, and therefore has to be totally indifferent. That’s also the reason I have not even asked any of you to vote for me. (In case you’re wondering, Jedis can have sex. Yes they can!)

However, I think that total silence is also not appropriate, since this is supposed to be a fun occasion. And boy, did we have fun!

Therefore, I want to go on record to thank those bloggers who nominated me. One day, when I read back my old postings, I want to be reminded that these fellow bloggers thought well enough of my inane postings to think of me as their peer. Some of these bloggers, like 5xmom and Suanie, are already recognized as national blog celebrities, having appeared with their faces in the newspapers. Others, although not fully featured in the papers yet, are also big names in the Malaysian blogosphere, and you know who they are.

The full list of bloggers who nominated me is as follows:

Chew Xy
suanie
lucia
vbglau
davidteoh
loonatik
Belacans
leonamanutd
CHiQ
Yuen Li
michaelooi
ryuu
Gina

Thank you guys. To be thought that I can be good enough to be nominated by you is a very big honour for me. I should also mention that another blog celebrity, Minishorts, campaigned a bit for me as well. Meme style. I am sorry that I do not have the readership numbers to put up a good enough fight to the likes of the other two finalists, famous bloggers Kenny Sia and Mack, so I hope you won’t get too disappointed at my results tonight. You guys have to face reality mah. Also, since most of you have nominated Kenny or Mack as well, it is okay with me if you had not voted for me. But I should be able to muster 5 votes! Unless some of you were sleeping! I sure hope that it’s good enough for all your efforts! Heheheh!

But we did have fun. Lots. You nominated me for all three categories, Blog of the Year, Ping of the Year(by ChewXy for the ‘when Blogs die’ article), and Neophyte Blog of the Year. Holy shit, me a neophyte? Next year, I want to be nominated for the Neophyte Blog of the Year category again. Okay, Suanie? Yeah, that was fun alright!

Some time in the future when events are gone and forgotten, I wish to look back and read this post to be reminded of the honour that my peers have generously heaped on me. A generosity that surprised me to the roots, and I want to put it on record lest I forget the magnanimity of my fellow bloggers.

This entry appears for recording purposes. I am unable to disable the commenting system for this post so therefore, I have to request you not to leave any comments.


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Wednesday, June 22, 2005

 

Ayoi.....3 sentences

I learned this from my school physics teacher.

1 + 1 = 1

I bet most of you have already forgotten what it means.


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Tuesday, June 21, 2005

 

5Star features four of our top gloggers

Yesterday was a day of fuss in the local blogoshere.

Bloggers Suanie, Minishorts(aka Claire), Kenny Sia and Peter Tan were featured in a one-star local daily. Well done you guys!

Then Minishorts put out a Plug-My-Friends post and described me as the main ACTION figure in a bedtime erotica. It sounds naughty of course, but not exactly scandalous.

Suanie followed suit and described me as having “uncanny skills” and that “he often hints that he has a big schlong”. Whadyamean by “hint”? You mean you have doubts? Now, that’s obviously scandalous.

Kenny and Peter did not try to describe me. Thank the stars.

Yes, it was a big day of fuss. So I went back home to quickly look at the newspapers. Of course, the newspaperman delivers the 5Star to my house. And the 5Star news in 5 times more scandalous than the one-star news. The article wasn’t about blogging; it was about glogging.

Now read and compare:





Peter, who drinks only fruit juice while sitting in front of the television watching Hong Kong Cantonese serials said, “A good health drink should also benefit other people, and give people something to think about."

*glog, glog, glog*

Claire, who leads a secret double life, declared, “If my mother found out about my grog, I’d be dead! I think a grog is worth glogging when the glogger drinks with honesty and eloquence, and does not try to glog all out just to become famous or to earn revenue out of it.”

She went on to quote a little known Eastern philoshophy, “The grog is a part of me – I am the grog.”

Very, very profound.

*glog, glog, glog*

Kenny, who is a coffee drinker takes about one to two hours to come up with a good pot of coffee, sometimes feels obligated to put out a cuppa every now and then for his readers.

He has also discovered that “fame” can be a double-edged sword – he’s had strangers coming up to him asking whether he is Kenny Sia the coffee maker, an experience he described as “freaky”.

*glog, glog, glog*

"Don’t take me too seriously," warns Suanie, "I express myself better in grogging because I can drink twice about what I’m going to grog about.”

Since nobody who knew the English language could understand what she was talking about, she went on further to explain, “Growing up is a very personal experience, and the grog gives me a voice and place to vent my thirst."

Ah, now that was much easier to understand.

*glog, glog, glog*

Note: Readers may find that the words and phrases used here almost similar to that of the one-star feature article. We didn't copy them. They copied us.


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Monday, June 20, 2005

 

Dear Lai Ma – I want become nude blogger

The SPG nude blogger issue has attracted a lot of attention from potential copycats. Noting that the blogger, who put up her naked picture for the purpose of art, has a readership of 3000 daily, a lot of female nude blogger wannabes are writing to the 5Star paper for professional advice.

In the interest of the blogging community, Ms Lai Ma, our 5Star columnist and formerly a karaoke lounge singer, will give her expert advice on the concept of nude blogging and art. Those who wish to seek out her professional advice must send in a nude picture of themselves. This service is for female bloggers only. Please note that any naked pictures sent in will remain the personal property of the owner of the 5Star.




5Star



Dear Lai Ma
I want to become nude blogger. I heard that a sarong party girl nude blogger has 3000 site visitors a day. So I did some statistical analysis. If 10% of them are ang mohs, then I will have 300 ang moh friends potentially. And if 20% of them are rich and handsome, I will have 60 rich and handsome ang moh boyfriends. Wah piang eh!
Dollar Mau


Dear Dollar Mau
Statistics don't work like that. Not say I say one, but I am damn expert in statistical analysis. Last time when I was a karaoke lounge singer, I just look at a group of humsup men, and my brain can work out how many per cent I can korek for tips. Based on my experience, I can tell you how the statistics will work out.
Of the 3000 readers, half are women. Of the remaining 1500, one third is underaged, and one third is old and senile. So now you only have 500. Of that, 80% can talk with one kind ang moh slang, but are acherly hor, not real ang moh one. The bluff ang moh you don't want, rite? So now you have 100 remaining, out of which 50 % are married and 20% are poor, which you also don't want, rite? That leaves only 30. Of that, 20 will not be interested in you. Because they are interested only in simple simple women who don't know how to write out a full sentence.
But luckily, still got 10 remaining. Out of that, 9 are damn argly. The tenth one is probably a gay who went to your website by mistake. If you want to become a sarong party girl, you must be prepared to work hard. First, keep your hair long long, use Rejoice shampoo like in TV commercial, then go to a hotel and sit at the bar. Then wait for a humsup ang moh to offer you a drink. After that you pretend to be drunk. Forget the nude blogging idea. There are no shortcuts.



Dear Lai Ma
My blog got no prospeck. Two years already and I orso not many readers. Sometimes 3, sometimes only 2. Like nobody want to read me. How can? I blog with branded computer and optical mouse you know. And summore my message got suffocating stuff that interesting to peepur all the time without thinking deep deep like well. Using latest technology I get from Imbi Plaza I blog with cutting edge for future understanding. Orso I use powderful English like even President Bush kenot use with his wife. But still nobody come and read. Waste my time only. So I think got no prospeck, better become nude blogger while my figure still fit fit. Then can get 3000 readers. What chu think?
Si Sua Sia



Dear Si Sua Sia
Thank you for sending me your nude pictures. You are indeed a beautiful girl. But people come to a blog to read articles that are well written. Not for naked pictures. Even a nude blogger must be able to express her ideas in a sophisticated manner. We are talking about blogging, not porn. Frankly, from your letter, it is very difficult to understand the rubbish that you write. You write one kind like that, sure lah, nobody want to come and read. I suggest that you enrol in a language class first and learn how to write properly, like me. You don't want people to come just to download your pictures without listening to your fancy ideas, right? Every blogger wants people to read their ideas. There are some exceptions of course, like the notorious underground blogger, Viewtru. That one is full of inane bullshit. And also he doesn't care if nobody come and read his blog. That's because he eat full already and got nothing to do.


Dear Lai Ma
I am a female artist. I would like to experiment with nude blogging for the sake of art. But local culture and sensitivities are a pain to deal with. Would you be so kind as to look at my nude picture and give me a critical review as to its aesthetic appeal?
Gloria Loong


Dear Gloria
Don’t lah, pose with your legs so wide open like that! I showed your picture to my colleague Dick Tomatoski, and he said that you have a few white hairs. You may want to invest in some hair colouring. I can recommend a few good brands. What you are doing is definitely not art. Not porn also. Dick said that one is speleology, or the study of caves. I whacked him for you already.


Dear Lai Ma
I am an old sarong party girl. Already 39 years old but still unattached. I have been going to hotels and sitting alone at the bar for years but no humsup gweilo has offered to buy me a drink yet. So now I think that I want to try the nude blogging idea. Here is a picture of myself naked. I want the picture to have a bit of class. Like arty farty kind. Do you think that I am showing too much skin?
Dunlop Goodyear


Dear Ms Dunlop Goodyear
After I saw your naked photo, I feel your pain. Then I showed your photo to my talkcock editor. He also feels your pain. I know because he started vomiting nonstop. I had to quickly cover your picture or else he may vomit until he become lifeless. After that, all the reporters who hated the talkcock editor wanted a copy of your picture.
Frankly, you look less arty than farty. If you want my advice, I think you must first try liposuction. Please sign up for 10 sessions. No, better make it 20. Then you must remove the “I love Brad Pitt” tattoos from your forearms. And from your butt also. After that you have to go for plastic surgery. This type of thing cannot save money one. As a woman, I wish you the best of luck.
Make sure you go to a reputable plastic surgeon. And not to one of those backstreet bo liao plastic surgeons behind Jalan Muka Celup. Otherwise if the operation cockup, you may end up looking not woman, not man, not animal. Like Michael Jackson.


Dear Lai Ma
I am very handsome. Also a very good blogger. I heard that one female blogger put up a naked picture of herself because of art. If she can do it, I also can do it. I very arty mah. So I took a naked picture of myself with a camera-phone. Then I use Adobe Photoshop to resize it and digitally smooth it out a bit until perfect. I then printed it out and showed it to my art lecturer. He told me to burn it immediately. Why like that? Why the world so fucked up?
Chin Tu Lan


Dear Chin Tu Lan
This category is for female bloggers only. You female meh? Ni na beh…..every time I tell you not to write to me, you still write to me. Summore send me your stupid naked picture. But my talkcock editor said that we are the 5Star and we must not discriminate against people who send in stupid naked pictures. What an idiot. I'll wait until he's having lunch, then I show him the picture of Ms Dunlop Goodyear again.
So okay, listen properly. Art is about balance, form and proportion. I looked at your naked picture and I know that you don’t understand the concept. My advice to you is to pay serious attention to your art lessons. And not ponteng class all the time. Also must use Adobe Photoshop in the proper manner, not simply use anyhow. Wa lau eh.......you are really too much. This is the first time I have seen anybody digitally alter the size of his dick until it's taller than a building.


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Saturday, June 18, 2005

 

Security feature

You know what would make a great security feature? INVISIBILITY.

Looking through my archives, I found this picture, which I took in Sydney.



Did you know that the Invisible Man once parked his invisible car here? Then he went for dinner. When he came back, he forgot where he had parked his car. So he asked Batman for help.

But Batman laughed and said, “If it can’t be seen, it can’t be found either.”

Fed up, man. So Invisible man called up Superman on his handphone, thinking that Superman, with his X-ray vision, may be of more help than Batman. Superman came immediately, flying faster than a speeding bullet, and found a nice empty spot on the street to land.

CRASH…..KERPLUNK!!!!

And Batman said, “Oh good! He found your car!”


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Friday, June 17, 2005

 

T-shirt quiz

I see that the PPS T-shirt design is focusing on a four letter word......'Ping'.


Quick quiz: From which Hugh Grant movie did this T-shirt appear?



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Give up?
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Answer: Notting Hill.


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Another 3-sentence post

Hot Babe and I went for a movie last weekend.

The cinema was freaking cold and I've been thinking about this phenomenon all week:

Why does the cold make my dick shrink, but makes Hot Babe's nips erect?


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Thursday, June 16, 2005

 

We can predict the news. Yes, we can.

Looks like I really have to get another hard disk to back up my old hard disk before I start tampering with the operating system. My connection to the internet will be intermittent if I don’t do this. Enough of that, let’s talk about something else.

This has been the month for news. So much exciting shit has been happening; people getting lost in jungles, liberals taking over PAS, an old man wanting to suspend a technician for 30 days because of dim lighting, Michael Jackson found not guilty, my pet fish getting pregnant under mysterious circumstances……..

Gosh, news has never been so exciting since Monica Lewinsky revealed to the media that she gave Bill Clinton a blowjob. That was simply incredible (the news, not the blowjob). Okay, maybe the blowjob also.

I’m going to get right into the swing of things and start making wild predictions for the second half of June. Not that I’m fucking clairvoyant, but we’ll reserve judgement on that till the end of the month, okay?

Shucks, by the law of averages, I should at least get one wild prediction correct. If not, I will stop eating rotiboy for one week.

Now let’s see how this works:

Four kids were lost in the jungles of Fraser’s Hill. They were found, safe and sound. But you know the mindless knee-jerk reactions that go around in this country. Idiots will be clamouring to make the jungles safer. Smart businessmen will start lobbying for their business proposals. By the end of the month we should see this in the headlines:

Million dollar contract awarded for new Jungle Intercom System.


From the results of the party elections, it looks like liberals have taken over the PAS party. If that is true, they will be instituting reforms to make PAS look hip and cool. So expect to see this bit of news in a newspaper on Page 3 later this month:

All PAS divisions required to send participants to contest in Malaysian Idol.


Do you remember how one old political bigwig threatened to suspend a technician for 30 days because the lighting was too dim? With party elections approaching, junior politicians are understandably nervous. You don’t want to be caught with insufficient lighting should a party boss visit your house. The brighter, the better. The odds are good that we may get to see this in the business news section:

Unusual high demand causes sudden shortage of flood lighting equipment.


A free condom plan has been mooted to combat escalating HIV infections in the country. This Harm Reduction plan aims at educating the young on the importance of using condoms for sex. Health campaigns are nothing new. Previously we had the “Tak Nak” campaign against smoking. With just a slight adjustment, we should be able to modify it appropriately towards condom usage. Watch out for the headlines:

Ministry announces new “Nak” campaign.


Oh gee, we already have some kind of momentum going, so let’s try some news on the international front.

Oh, did you know that Michael Jackson has been found not guilty on child sex charges? Yeah, and his heath has been terribly affected by the court case. He’s so thin and frail now. I’m sure our media would have noticed it, so please do not act too surprised if you see the following headlines in the leisure pages:

Famous black singer looking pale because of poor health.

Yeah, our media will print stuff like that.


We’re on a roll here. So, let’s move on.

In America, the mystery character known as ‘Deep Throat’ has revealed his identity at last, and detailed how he caused the downfall of former U.S. President Nixon.
Now that he’s talking, maybe by the end of the month, Deep Throat will also claim responsibility for taking down still another former U.S. president, Bill Clinton. Oh wait..….scrap this prediction…….that one wasn’t Deep Throat. Or even Shallow Throat. That one was Monica…….code named Regular Throat.


Lost a bit of momentum there. Predicting international news can be quite tricky if you don’t have an international brain. But how to get an international brain? I get first, then I tell you, okay?

Let’s do some more wild predictions. In Singapore, the media whores interviewed a female blogger who posted nude pictures of herself. For the past few days, the biggest coffeeshop discussion was about her protruding 1-inch nipples. One somewhat chio Singaporean girl blogger was so fed up when her male buddies went goo-goo gaga over the 1-inch nipples that she created an animated picture of it here. (Please, oh please, let there be a catfight.) Now, let me remind you that you are supposed to be an adult before you can click on that picture link. But if you are not an adult and you clicked on the link already before reading this reminder, well……..please, don’t do it again. Okay?

Hey, let’s not get sidetracked. We’re supposed to be doing some kind of wild prediction, aren’t we? Now we can’t let the snarky Singaporeans think that they’re so damn ‘atas’. They may be the kiasus, but we are the bolehs. We have taller buildings, longer highways, and more inflated gasbag politicians. If their lousy press corps can interview a nude female blogger with 1-inch nipples, then our lousy press corps will want to interview someone better than that. Watch out for this in the Classified Ads.

Female nude blogger wanted for interview.
Must have good English and foot-long nipples.



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Wednesday, June 15, 2005

 

What you want ahhhh….

Fuming mad was I last night. The computer refused to log onto the internet. I think those pesky aliens must have screwed up the registry when I deleted certain things I shouldn’t have.

After a few hours of trying, I had enough. There is only so much pain a good person like me can take before his mind starts developing weird possible actions with computers involving a chainsaw. So I opened up the newspapers and started reading the funnies.

That was when I read the ‘Zits’ comic strip(by Jerry Scott and Jim Borgman) on page 26, and there was this dorky teenager who made this profound statement:

“Even though I don’t have all the things I want, I’m really grateful for the things I don’t have that I don’t want.”

You know that I relate to that kind of intellectual shit, so I sat up and paid attention.

Yes, there were lots of things I didn’t have, but want, such as a few million ringgit in my bank account, a highland home retreat, and ….er…..and….. okay, I’m a simple man of simple needs, so my list tends to be short.

Then I made a mental list of things that I don’t have and don’t want. Well, I don’t have HIV and certainly don’t want it. That goes for other things such as a pile of debts, getting lost in the jungle, being arrested for child molestation etc. On reading the papers further, I realized that there was a whole lot of shit happening to a whole lot of people. Totally unwholesome shit. If I were to compile a list of things that I don’t have and don’t want, that list would be endless.

Honest Reality stared me in the eyeballs and flinched me into this quiet admission:
MY LIFE HAS BEEN FUCKING GOOD!

So I grabbed a nice cup of steaming coffee and told myself that I’ll fix the stupid computer some other day.


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Tuesday, June 14, 2005

 

SMS text

A friend forwarded one of those corny gawdawful SMS text messages to me:

“A friend is like underwear; keeps you comfortable.
A good friend is like Durex; keeps you protected.
A great friend is like Viagra; lifts you up when you’re down.”

Oh yeah? Like I needed reminding?
I thought of sending him this reply:

“A lover is like a camera tripod; opens legs out when you want to mount your equipment.
A good lover is like Panadol; never has a headache.
A great lover is like pasar malam VCD; doesn’t cost much, and after you play Side A, can still proceed to play Side B.”

But, no, I did not send it off. I have a decent “harmless fella” image. The type you would trust with your babelicious only daughter. I wasn’t about to let him think that I’m the sort of guy who goes for mindblowing sex.

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Monday, June 13, 2005

 

Freaks R Us

The mind is still blank today. Damn those pesky aliens. Always trying to wipe out people's memories.

But I’m tired of posting just 3 sentences. It’s not like you people know how to count up to 3 anyway. What…..you can? Well, of course you can! You have ten fingers, don’t you?


I see that Michaelooi is giving a treatise on how problematic it is to pee with a big dick in a cramped toilet. He even put out 2 posts on the same topic. Must be important.

Now, I can empathise with Michael. Note that I used the word “empathise” and not “sympathise”. Because I also have the same meaty problem. Why does Heaven have to give some of us such long schlongs? There’s simply too much flesh to handle.

Man, why me?

Oh, this is what yours truly look like when NOT WEARING underwear.




You can doubt all you want. But I’m not saying anything more. Muahahahaha!!!

And just in case you peeps are not thoroughly impressed yet, let me tell ya that I go three times a week to Ah Beng's gym TO DO THIS. Please do not click on the link if you are not an adult. If you are an adult, please do not try this at home without proper supervision!







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Saturday, June 11, 2005

 

The principle

My lecturer once said that I should never hand up a blank paper for an assignment.

Even if I don’t know what to say, I should at least write down 3 sentences.

I’m just not sure if this principle should be applied to a blog.


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Friday, June 10, 2005

 

Lecturing my doggy

My dog has taken up a hobby. I don’t know whether I should be glad that he knows how to keep himself entertained, or whether I should make him stop the nonsense.

I have both a cat and a dog. Both of them are of such totally different characters that I sometimes wonder if they live in the same house. Of course they do, but that did not stop me from wondering about it.

The family cat is a neat and sedate character. And aloof as well. The dog, on the other hand, is a bit of a slob. He’s slightly more than a year old, highly energetic, and very intelligent. If I had to use only one word to describe my doggy, it would be this: ‘happy-like-fuck’.

One of my neighbours has a dog which has shit for brains. It’s some sort of pedigree dog, suckass feedoncrapus or something. It barks for no apparent reason other than it’s deeply psychotic. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I would hear it dragging a pail across the neighbour’s yard for hours. A pail? A fucking pail? That dog next door has serious mental issues, no doubt.

My happy-like-fuck doggy likes to go to the fencing and feigns suddenly to the left and right. Like a good football player. This totally freaks out Shit-For-Brains next door who would then bark loudly. And Happy-Like-Fuck treats this as some great amusement. It’s like a hobby with him to see how much free entertainment he could get from freaking out the stupid canine moron next door. And whenever I catch him doing it and tell him to stop, he would turn around and look at me with mirth written all over his face.

Yes, I can recognize doggy mirth!

Last night, I was watching the news on TV on how the four missing boys in Fraser’s Hill were found. I was quite relieved to see that they were okay. If you ask me, my opinion is that young folks going into the jungle should carry a whistle. Or better still, a handphone. While my attention was stilled glued to the TV, I heard a noisy racket coming from the garden fence. Yeah, my doggy was freaking out Shit-For-Brains again. The maid yelled at the dog to stop it, but he was having too much fun.

Finally, I had to go out and give the doggy a stern lecture.


Me : Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
(Translation: “Doggy, I want you to stop freaking out the neighbours’ dog. That crapfest is already on the verge of qualifying for Tanjung Rambutan. So stop it!”)

Doggy : Woof, woof!
(Translation: “But that’s my hobby!”)

Me : Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
(Translation: “You’re some sick fuck. Can’t you take up some other hobby?”)

Doggy : Woof, woof!
(Translation: “You want me to chase the family cat instead? Can I?”)

Me : Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
(Translation: “Not the family cat!!! Okay, fine, keep your stupid hobby!”)

Doggy : Woof, woof!
(Translation: “Yesss!!!”)

Me : Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
(Translation: “But from now on, I’m putting you on a strict quota. You’re not to make Shit-For-Brains miserable for more than 12 times a day. Understand? ”)

Doggy : Woof, woof!
(Translation: “Huh? You know that I can’t count!”)

Me : Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
(Translation: “But the maid can. From now on she’ll be keeping a daily tally.”)

Doggy : Woof, woof!
(Translation: “No, not a tally! Oh, fuck!”)

Me : Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
(Translation: “Hey! What did I say before about dogs using profanities, huh?”)

Doggy : Woof, woof!
(Translation: “But I hear you using profanities all the time! Why can’t I?”)

Me : Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
(Translation: “Because I’m a human and you’re a dog.”)

Doggy : Woof, woof!
(Translation: “So?”)

Me : Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
(Translation: “So I’m bigger than you are. The big ones make all the rules. Law of the jungle.”)

Doggy : Woof, woof!
(Translation: “When I grow up, I want to be an elephant.”)

Me : Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!
(Translation: “Shut up. Go and guard the front door.”)

*Doggy saunters off obediently.*


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Thursday, June 09, 2005

 

The anthem issue

Occasionally, the NST does come up with a sensible article. Now go and read it already. And hear the man out.

I have a slightly different set of views.

I have always associated the national anthem with ceremonial events. Events with pomp and pageantry. When I hear the anthem, I know that something of monumental importance is about to happen. That it is time to put all flippant behaviour aside, and keep a serious demeanour. Yeah, I am old fashioned in that way.

I do not want to hear the anthem played for something as frivolous as the start of a movie.

The anthem deserves greater respect than that.

During the Olympics, whenever we hear a country’s anthem being played, we know that the winner of a sports event is about to be honoured.

That it is a time when greatness is recognised and glory is given.

We know that it’s not to honour a fresh batch of potato bread being put out for half price. No matter how good the potato bread. Or how cheap the price.
There are just certain things you do not do with the anthem.

So I want you politicians to back off. This is OUR anthem. It should not be trivialised. Not for anybody’s perceived political gain. The anthem represents dignity. It is not to be used to honour and glorify the start of any B-grade movie in any flea-bitten cinema hall. No matter how good the movie.

We go to a movie for only ONE reason: to goof off.
You wanna play the national anthem for that occasion?
Please excuse my conservative kink, but I call that trivialising one of our time-honoured institutions. So, back off.


Let’s change the topic.

To some other topic, like garments.

Any hotel waiters out there? A clothing manufacturer would like to give you a piece of advice; to keep your feet firmly on the ground. Yo, listen to the manufacturer.



* Latest update on 10th June *

Can you believe that certain people are now seeing it my way? To quote:

In Putrajaya, Information Minister Datuk Seri Abdul Kadir Sheikh Fadzir said the singing of the national anthem before movie screenings would not be appropriate.

All comments for this post has been deleted.

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Wednesday, June 08, 2005

 

Teaching Maths in English does help the non-Chinese scholastically

*Serious post today. Have to do GENUINE social commentary once in a while. *

Occasionally, by some sort of fluke, the government does come out with a good decision.

Years ago, there was this proposal to teach science and mathematics in schools, which raised such a huge ruckus that you would have thought that the tsunami arrived prematurely before its time. The biggest naysayers were many mortified teachers.

“Science taught in English…..we understand. But why also mathematics?”

I could tell them why, but at that time I chose to remain silent. There was no doubt to me that the greatest scholastic improvement would come from Malay and Indian students, but I was thinking that some great local scientific minds would soon explain all those concepts to the public in due time.

Fast forward to this month, June 2005.

The Education director-general announced that
“Teachers nationwide have given the policy to teach Mathematics and Science in English the thumbs up and urged the Education Ministry to step up training programmes for teachers who have to teach the subjects.”

Did you notice that the teachers have accepted the policy, but NO ONE has explained why it brought results? The great local scientific minds are still keeping quiet, so I’ll take this one on their behalf.

Thinking is done by manipulating mental pictures and mental sounds. That is known as visual thinking and audio thinking.

Humans are basically audio creatures. We communicate mostly with sounds, and we think mostly with sounds. The reason why humans are able to rise above the lower animals is due to our ability to recognize and master different sounds. In other words, although we also indulge in visual thinking, it is our capacity for audio thinking that makes us smarter than the other animals.

Let’s do a little maths.

5 x 9 = ?

Can you work this one out without the use of a language, by say, a visualization method?

Sure you can. But it’s going to be slow. Painfully slow.

You can visualize 5 goats standing in 9 rows. Then you mentally count the goats in your mental picture. But mental pictures are a real bitch to control. Before you can even count halfway, most of the goats would have run away. A dumber thinker would just gather the goats again mentally and make them stand in their rows once more. But no, you’re smarter than that, so you thought that perhaps you should count something that can’t run quite as fast.



Are tortoises slow enough for you? They are? Good, let’s do it.

But again, it’s difficult to control the imagination. Before you can even count halfway, holy shit, the tortoises have crawled up together into a social pile of shells, one atop another, preventing you from doing a decent tally.

Say, you give it one more go, although a lesser mortal would have given up by now. You decide to count something that doesn’t move at all….something small and easy to handle, like buns. So you mentally line up 5 buns each in 9 rows and start to count. But mother-of-all-holy-shits, the dumb goats have returned and are snacking voraciously on all your buns!

So, how much is 5 x 9? Zero.

You know who talks the most positively about visual thinking? Pop psychologists, that’s who. Pop psychologists know shit about the human mind. They’re mostly avaricious scam artistes out to make a fast buck, and wouldn’t know Carl Jung from a monkey’s ass.

Do you also know who the visual thinkers are? Fish.
And also other animals that don’t have a good voice range. Like worms.

Every time I bait my fish hook with a worm, I’m always hoping that that wriggly visual thinker is smart enough not to fall off the hook. Then I pray that the other great visual thinker(the swimming one) is smart enough to see the worm. When two great visual thinkers meet, I get to eat. Tom Yam style.

Human beings started out first as visual thinkers during the cavemen era, and then with the evolvement of spoken languages, progressed to become audio thinkers. With that, they soon learned to count beyond the number of fingers and toes they had.

This is where the language plays its part. It is no secret that students from Chinese schools excel in mathematics. My theory is that this is because the Chinese numerals are monosyllabic.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
yi, er, san, si, wu, liu, qi, ba, jiu, shi

The same can be said of English, which has monosyllabic numerals except for “seven” which has two syllables:

One, two, three, four, five, six, se-ven, eight, nine, ten.

Having monosyllabic numerals facilitates faster mental calculations. It takes much less time to internalize the sound. The Bahasa language has mostly duosyllabic numerals;

sa-tu, du-a, ti-ga, em-pat, li-ma, e-nam, tu-juh, la-pan, sem-bi-lan, se-pu-luh

These longer pronunciations slow down mathematical calculations.

Say, you want to calculate 8 x 9.

Using English, you’ll mentally say “Eight times nine” using a total of 3 sounds.

In Bahasa, you will have to say “La-pan ka-li sem-bi-lan”, making a total of seven sounds. That takes up a much longer time. And because people will say this out in their minds, all these represent time utilized before even starting to work out the answer.

The Indians, using the Tamil dialect, also have long syllables for their numerals:

Wa-ne, ren-de, moo-ne, na-le, an-ji, ar-re, ai-lor, eit-ter, om-bo-dur, pa-teh

Again, they are slowed down by the sounds.

Do you understand now why all these while, Chinese school students have a big advantage in mathematics? Chinese students process simpler sounds. The trick to doing well in mathematics is to KEEP THINGS SIMPLE. Use the minimum of sounds in your head. Mathematics is not poetry or music. It is a very unforgiving area where a decimal in the wrong place will make the difference between heaven and earth.

Modern life is very much faster-paced than the life lead by our forefathers. And this has led us to use sounds a bit differently.

For instance, when is the last time you heard somebody use the word “hendak”? Most of the time, people use “nak” instead. And we often say “pa tu” instead of “apa itu”. If you had ever seen soldiers marching, you would have noticed the sergeant shouting “Ti” instead of “Berhenti”.

Purists may cringe at all these verbal shortcuts. But life is getting increasingly complex. Our ancestors only need to OUTRUN their competitors. Today, we are required to OUTSMART them as well. I am NOT going to get drawn into a debate about whether the people should accommodate the language, or the language should accommodate the people. You decide that on your own. This post is about what goes on in our minds.

I am also not going to debate on why it is necessary to learn mathematics when a Casio calculator is cheaper than a stupid duck. You want to debate this, you take it up with the Ministry of Education. But I would want my kids to master mental arithmetic because it sharpens the thinking skills.

Perhaps you would like to stay quietly for a moment now to listen to the sounds going through your mind, and find out what sounds you are making in your head. You may be surprised to find out you don’t know yourself as well as you thought you did.

May peace reign in your head, and may your mind stay sharp.


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Tuesday, June 07, 2005

 

Applying motorcycle technology to a human problem

Ah Seng had a problem. His motorcycle repair shop business has been affected by the petrol price increase. People are cutting back on unnecessary travel and therefore having less need to change the engine oil and filters so often. Looking at the pile of unsold engine oil and filters, he asked his wife if she could perhaps use the engine oil to fry goreng pisang (banana fritters).

His wife told him to fly kite.

Then he remembered that his wife use KY Jelly. He asked her why.

“Use some lubricant, so got no pain mah!” she answered.

“If still got pain, then how?” he asked.

“I dunno!” she replied.

Ah Seng had a brilliant idea. And so, he struck a deal with a local blogtal(that shall remain unnamed). Then he located a top supermodel.

Oh, by the way, if you are wondering what to wear for the PPS Second Anniversary party, I’ll like to suggest that you wear the new PPS T-shirt. I did hear that the event will be emceed by the top supermodel.



This is the view of the T-shirt from the back.





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Monday, June 06, 2005

 

Slow nerves on a Monday

I’m sort of regretting the fact that I told Kenny Sia that Mack was the intellectual one, and not me. Heck, I WANT to be the intellectual one!

Why? Because people listen to the intellectual ones. Then I could even say ordinary stuff like “The rain in Spain falls only in Spain” and people would think that it’s some kind of deep intellectual shit. Cool, ain’t it?

I wish for once that I could do a profound intellectual post. And I mean really profound.

Early this morning, I was listening to a radio channel(Hitz FM, I think) and there was a short talk on the Central Nervous System of the human body. Those of you who had tuned in to the same channel may remember that one bozo was asking why his boss had an arrow in the head but did not feel a thing. Then another guy answered that it would depend on how fast the pain message traveled to his brain.

The messages traveling along the Central Nervous System can travel pretty fast, up to almost one-eighth the speed of a speeding bullet. At least, that was what the radio said. And the nerves of different people have different travel speeds. Just like different roads have different speed limits.

I know of a girl who was frequently getting bruises. The funny thing is that she would not know where she got the bruise. In fact, she would not even know that she had a bruise until days later. I think it is because she has slow nerves. Her pain message travels so slowly that it takes days to reach her brain. Meanwhile, the bruise forms, and by the time she felt the pain, she has no recollection of where she had been to collect the bruise.

This is why I think that torture chambers may not work on people with slow nerves. A guy could torture a prisoner diligently for the whole day and the prisoner may not feel a thing until some time in the middle of the night. Then he yells, “Owww!!! Owww!!! Owww!!! Owww!!! Owww!!! Okay, okay!!!! I’ll talk!!!”

Too late! By that time, the torturer has already long given up and gone home for a nice dinner with his folks. Like any decent family man.

Have you ever noticed that in the athletic sprint events, some runners leave their blocks slower than the others? The reason is “slow nerves”. A runner is supposed to run only when he hears the sound of the start signal. Sound, being fair to all, travels equally fast to all runners, so all of them should hear the ‘start’ signal at the same time. Then a message goes from the eardrum to the brain to tell the runner to run like fuck. All the runners would be running, except for the poor guy with slow nerves still be waiting for the message.

Now, if that guy was running alone, and the nerves were extra slow on that day, it could be nightfall before he gets up and run. And he would still win the race, because of the fact that he was running alone, get it?

But most of the time, he is not running alone. He may have slow nerves, but he is not blind. If he sees the others sprinting away from the blocks, the poor guy has to make a quick decision.

“Why the fuck is that fucker on my left running when my Central Nervous System is not telling me to run yet? That’s the fucking trouble with the world today. People simply have no patience. Lowlife dipshits. All of ‘em. Damn, now even the fucker on my right is running. Fuck this shit….I’m running too.”

This is a common reaction. You see it happening all the time at the traffic junction. The traffic light is still red. One car speeds across the junction. Immediately, the other cars follow. Did anybody see a green light? No.

Now why am I blogging about all this on an early Monday morning? Without even mentioning sex?

Well, don’t you get it? I kid you not, but THIS IS my profound intellectual post.


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Friday, June 03, 2005

 

The Negotiator and the Stewardess

MAS stewardesses are over the moon. They managed to win two key points from the airline in the latest round of union negotiations
- increase in gratuity payment for those who retire
- can now have three children and still fly

And what did the airline get in return? A big fucking zero. The airline negotiating team totally failed to get the stewardesses to agree on the most important key issue affecting passenger; that is to SHOW MORE CLEAVAGE.

Before you start thinking that I’m not being serious, let me just say that cleavage is more important than what anybody realizes. It gives the passengers something to take their minds off the airline food. When I read the news yesterday, my first thought was “Oh fuck! The negotiators lost again! Bunch of dumbasses!”

Now, just how difficult can it be to negotiate with some good looking chicks? If it were up to me, I would send in somebody tough to do the negotiating. A no-nonsense, take-no-prisoners kind of negotiator. Somebody like Dick Tomatoski, also known as the “Fat Dick” in some circles.

The trick to successful negotiating is to shout “DONE!” after winning a point, and then quickly moving on to the next point.

Yeah, Fat Dick would have done it differently.

Fat Dick : Morning. I’m here to negotiate on behalf of the airline.

Stewardess : Siddown, mistah. Me and mah sistahs got a long list of demands.

Fat Dick : Perhaps you would like me to explain some of the legal terms to you so that you can better understand how negotiations are done. That way, we can wrap this thing up quickly in order to better serve the airline.

Stewardess : Look here Mistah….

Fat Dick : Call me Dick

Stewardess : Look, Dick……firstly, I ain’t your ho, so stop talking to me like I'm demented. Secondly, I ain’t your ho, so stop talking like I have to serve anybody in any way.

Fat Dick : Dat rite, biatch?

Stewardess : Dat’s rite.

Fat Dick : Let me present our new policy. From now on, we want you girls to show a little more cleavage. There have been too many complaints about airline food of late, and we really need to distract the passengers. Done?

Stewardess : No can do. You ain’t pimpin’ us out. The airline food’s your fucking problem. If we can eat that shit everyday, we see no reason why airline passengers can’t eat the same shit for JUST one day.

Fat Dick : You got a point.

Stewardess : Of course we do! And another thing…..we hate to do the demo thing about the life vests and show folks where the emergency exits are. People keep staring at out tits when we demo the life vests alla time.

Fat Dick : They do?

Stewardess : Look at me when I’m talking to you!

Fat Dick : I am looking at you!

Stewardess : My face is up here!

Fat Dick : Oh….sorry. You have a nice pair of bre…eyes!

Stewardess : Thank you! Now stay focused. What the girls want is for the airline to do away with life vests. We figured that the life vests will do shit if the plane ever goes down. If we’re gonna die, then we’re gonna die.

Fat Dick : Now look, the life vests serve a very important function. If the plane goes down in the water, you and the passengers are gonna need them.

Stewardess : Fuck the passengers! We girls can swim.

Fat Dick : The life vests cover your chest and prevents the sharks from nibbling at your tits.

Stewardess : Okay, the life vests stay.

Fat Dick : DONE!

Stewardess : But my sistahs hate having to show all the emergency exits every time we board the plane. The “EXIT” letters are lighted so brightly that everybody knows where they are without having to be told. Don’t tell us you have been taking passengers who can’t fucking read.

Fat Dick : We have been taking passengers who can’t fucking read.

Stewardess : Shit! Well, stop that! From now on, nobody boards a plane without taking a literacy test! Even George Bush.

Fat Dick : Can’t do that. We won’t take the chance of George Bush failing your literacy test. Tell you wut, you drop this point and we’ll increase the gratuity payments for those stewardesses who retire.

Stewardess : DONE!

Fat Dick : And you would also have to show more cleavage.

Stewardess : Too late! I shouted “DONE!” already!

Fat Dick : Damn!

Stewardess : Let’s move on. Da sistahs would like to have 4 kids and still keep their flying jobs. We have a family to support and we want the income.

Fat Dick : No can do. The airline is firm on this one. Two kids is the maximum.

Stewardess : If you agree to this point, da sistahs would be willing to show a little more cleavage.

Fat Dick : They would?

Stewardess : After their fourth kid.

Fat Dick : After their fourth kid, they may get so out of shape that nobody would want to see their cleavage!

Stewardess : It’s either we keep our flying jobs with three kids or we show our cleavage after the fourth kid. Take your pick.

Fat Dick : I’ll take the “keep your flying jobs with three kids” option.

Stewardess : DONE! That wuz easy.

Fat Dick : That’s it! No more negotiations for this year! I could use a drink.

Stewardess : I must say that I fucking like way you negotiate.

Fat Dick : Thank you. I must say that I also like your nehneh….nehgotiation skills.

Stewardess : You’ve me staring at my….uh….nehgotiation skills all day. I can assure you that they’re real.

Fat Dick : Really?

Stewardess : You look like a cute guy. I would normally invite a hunk like you to my apartment to listen to some music. But the company has strict rules about employees fraternizing together.

Fat Dick : That stupid rule does not apply to male employees with large er….hands.

Stewardess : You sure about that?

Fat Dick : Screw the airline! Let’s go!


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Thursday, June 02, 2005

 

Don’t suspend the poor guy!

I abhor the idea of people being suspended. When I was a kid, I used to read the ‘Wizard of Id’ comics and it had drawings of people in dungeons suspended by their hands. Or worse, by their feet.

I detest the idea of people getting suspended for a month. Whether by their hands or feet. And being suspended by a month is definitely far too long. By 30 days too long.

We were never told why they were suspended. Probably for some INSIGNIFICANT reason.

Let me guess: the king of Id was out walking by the swamp one day and there was an eclipse of the sun. He didn’t like it. So he shouted’ “Who dimmed the daylight? Who is the technician on duty? I order that he be suspended for a month!”

What, just like that?

And all because this king felt that “bad lighting was part of the unhealthy outdoor environment”?

The proper thing to do is to first hold an inquiry. Find out the real reasons why there was insufficient light. Check to see if every contractor had fulfilled the contract to specifications.

In any building or complex, there are always lots of reasons why the lighting is poor. Such as poor building design…..faulty wiring……..insufficient power supplied to the area…….too much electricity drawn away by the speaker’s microphone…..act of God…..

That could be it! It was an act of God! I am telling you. An act of God. So remove that suspension already!

Or at least, hold a proper inquiry first!


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Wednesday, June 01, 2005

 

A mistake made

There has been a mistake. At 11.35 p.m., a group of us bloggers tried to put in some nominations for a certain blogger for the Blog Of the Year. But the list of finalists has already been out. It is not yet midnight! Hello? I know all our watches were not wrong!!! How can the voting booth be open on 1st June night? Hello???? Aiz. Please check and do some corrections.

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Writing a Cowboy western

Busily waiting for my pay. That's what I was doing yesterday, busily waiting for my pay.

Then I idly checked my drawers and found a Cowboy western book which I had bought some time ago but had not read yet. So I took it out, flipped a few pages, and read a few lines.

I have a habit of doing stuff like that, even though I know that it’s not gonna do any good, and that I would just have to read the whole book to understand the story.

I saw in the movies once, that this guy could just hold a book in his hands and he would immediately know what the whole book was about. I dunno about you, but I definitely wouldn’t shake hands with that guy.

If I had that kind of ability, I could just shake hands with Britney Spears and find how if her boobs were fake. I mean, they did look a little fake to me.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the book.

Frankly, it is not the smartest idea to be seen carrying a Cowboy western story book around the office. It may give some people the impression that you’re not serious enough about climbing the corporate ladder. Appearances are everything in the corporate world. Everything. The worst thing about climbing the corporate ladder is having to backstab your way through the bunch of hypocritical shits at the bottom.

Okay, about the book.

I picked it up thinking that maybe I could learn to write in the Cowboy western style for a change. I mean, it should be easy enough for me. Hey, I got an 80% in punctuation. And if it weren’t for my humility, I would be so thoroughly gloating by now.

So I opened the book and saw this passage:

“You can jerk the meat,” he said, and showed her how to cut into thin strips for drying.

That sounds a little too much like some sick sadomasochistic shit to me.

Think I’ll just stick to modern English for a while.


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