There is no spoon
The internet sucks hairy balls
Monday, October 05, 2009
I really do reckon my work would get done twenty times faster if, oh let's say, Streamyx wasn't such a dirty whore and didn't fucking suck as much.
Malaysia has shit for internet. Grade A cow poop.
It feels like TM is harboring aborted fetuses that sit in their servers gnawing at cables screeching for life, justice and all that jazz. There we go, unrecognizable demonic masses running around TM's headquarters because in the course of ripping everyone in the country off, someone forgot to cap their toyol urn.
Seriously?
I really do reckon my work would get done twenty times faster if, oh let's say, Streamyx wasn't such a dirty whore and didn't fucking suck as much.
Malaysia has shit for internet. Grade A cow poop.
It feels like TM is harboring aborted fetuses that sit in their servers gnawing at cables screeching for life, justice and all that jazz. There we go, unrecognizable demonic masses running around TM's headquarters because in the course of ripping everyone in the country off, someone forgot to cap their toyol urn.
Seriously?
Has not updated in yonks
Monday, June 29, 2009
Since I last updated, there was madness in the office, the Viva Vertical Polestars showcase and more transpolesition.
The office is also going on a field trip to watch Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen tonight, woohoo! :)
Not so massive list of things to do include: include "Older Post" link per yoonkit's request or simply just migrate blog to Wordpress, write long paragraph of emo spewage (or if all else fails, copy/paste email sent to best friend three weeks ago).
Oh yeah. MJ died. RIP.
Since I last updated, there was madness in the office, the Viva Vertical Polestars showcase and more transpolesition.
The office is also going on a field trip to watch Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen tonight, woohoo! :)
Not so massive list of things to do include: include "Older Post" link per yoonkit's request or simply just migrate blog to Wordpress, write long paragraph of emo spewage (or if all else fails, copy/paste email sent to best friend three weeks ago).
Oh yeah. MJ died. RIP.
Over the week-end
Monday, April 13, 2009
Things I've discovered (and took a whack at) over the past week and some that I will probably end up repeating and never, ever learn from:
** IE is a whore and doesn't render display: table-cell; and vertical-align: bottom; at all. I've resorted to display: block; and hacking the padding AND it's causing my face to physically hurt.
** Safari ate up 15 pixels of my layout (maybe I'm just that terrible). I don't know where it has gone to but it's driving me up the wall that I have to hack it. Naturally, the hack doesn't validate so much that it grinds on my anal retentiveness and is about to cause the fattest blood vessel in my neck to rupture.
** Also, IE has a goddamn hard-on for height: 1%; as opposed to an actual height value and some asphyxiation fetish with the line-height property. WHY!? Go choke on some saran wrap...
** While the wMode option in sifr makes IE behave (somewhat); it still doesn't solve the non-stickiness of the drop down menu that you want sitting above the header when you so casually hover over the list. Why must you be special. Why.
** After yonks since Buffy the Vampire Slayer ended, I'm still openly and unabashedly lusting after Spike. I swear, it's his platinum blondie hair. That and I won't lie about still wanting to f--uh, hug his undead brains out.
** The lighting in the MidValley food court does wonders for a little show and don't tell :) Pink is, after all, my favorite color :)
** I've mentioned this on Twitter before, but just because it made my glamorous readership of five burst out in hives laughing, I'll repeat--Adam on what I write on nekomatta.com: "she only writes about emo stuff, food, WoW and batshit emo stuff."
** I am so unforgivably terrible at DoTA I'm starting to wonder if WoW is an entirely different game altogether. My pride is in a deplorable state of tatters and sports a new gaping, bleeding hole after each game I have with Mark that ends with us being gibbed by the AIs. Pro-gaming, my ass.
Things I've discovered (and took a whack at) over the past week and some that I will probably end up repeating and never, ever learn from:
** IE is a whore and doesn't render display: table-cell; and vertical-align: bottom; at all. I've resorted to display: block; and hacking the padding AND it's causing my face to physically hurt.
** Safari ate up 15 pixels of my layout (maybe I'm just that terrible). I don't know where it has gone to but it's driving me up the wall that I have to hack it. Naturally, the hack doesn't validate so much that it grinds on my anal retentiveness and is about to cause the fattest blood vessel in my neck to rupture.
** Also, IE has a goddamn hard-on for height: 1%; as opposed to an actual height value and some asphyxiation fetish with the line-height property. WHY!? Go choke on some saran wrap...
** While the wMode option in sifr makes IE behave (somewhat); it still doesn't solve the non-stickiness of the drop down menu that you want sitting above the header when you so casually hover over the list. Why must you be special. Why.
** After yonks since Buffy the Vampire Slayer ended, I'm still openly and unabashedly lusting after Spike. I swear, it's his platinum blondie hair. That and I won't lie about still wanting to f--uh, hug his undead brains out.
** The lighting in the MidValley food court does wonders for a little show and don't tell :) Pink is, after all, my favorite color :)
** I've mentioned this on Twitter before, but just because it made my glamorous readership of five burst out in hives laughing, I'll repeat--Adam on what I write on nekomatta.com: "she only writes about emo stuff, food, WoW and batshit emo stuff."
** I am so unforgivably terrible at DoTA I'm starting to wonder if WoW is an entirely different game altogether. My pride is in a deplorable state of tatters and sports a new gaping, bleeding hole after each game I have with Mark that ends with us being gibbed by the AIs. Pro-gaming, my ass.
Denizens of Awkward City
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Not even one week into 2009 and I'm emo blogging. To be fair, Awkward City was drawn up, engineered and brought to life with fairy dust (and some Lou Rawls) sometime last year. I would know, I'm the mother fucking city planner with a palace and a goddamn moat next to the mayoress' swanky pad.
I'm confused. What is it exactly you want from me? I don't want to be your friend and given circumstances, I can't ever be your friend. Granted I'm not as charitable as others but friendship involves trust and seeing that we both royally fucked it for each other, why bother?
We both know you're probably never going to give me what I want... which is just an answer, or two. For starters, sarcasm aside, what the bloody hell are you doing!? Yes, I'm a selfish bitch and it's all about me.
Once upon a time, things were different.
Not even one week into 2009 and I'm emo blogging. To be fair, Awkward City was drawn up, engineered and brought to life with fairy dust (and some Lou Rawls) sometime last year. I would know, I'm the mother fucking city planner with a palace and a goddamn moat next to the mayoress' swanky pad.
I'm confused. What is it exactly you want from me? I don't want to be your friend and given circumstances, I can't ever be your friend. Granted I'm not as charitable as others but friendship involves trust and seeing that we both royally fucked it for each other, why bother?
We both know you're probably never going to give me what I want... which is just an answer, or two. For starters, sarcasm aside, what the bloody hell are you doing!? Yes, I'm a selfish bitch and it's all about me.
Once upon a time, things were different.
Goodbye, Proximity!
Monday, December 15, 2008
It has been so much fun <3 Tons of good laughs, a couple of bat shit mental moments, those sexy late nights, a few lego bricks and one or two of 'em mickey mouse ears; not too bad for a short run, eh?
I miss you all so much <3
... especially team awesome and the ribena girl ;)
Yes, I know this is extremely delayed... but I haz no interwebs :/ And it really doesn't help that freaking Tasmania has noooo wireless so much so I am forced to leech on-campus (yes, on-campus) computers for connection :p I am also using IEsuck (IT lab computers, sigh)... my life has officially ended.
I am so reliving my university days.
It has been so much fun <3 Tons of good laughs, a couple of bat shit mental moments, those sexy late nights, a few lego bricks and one or two of 'em mickey mouse ears; not too bad for a short run, eh?
I miss you all so much <3
... especially team awesome and the ribena girl ;)
Yes, I know this is extremely delayed... but I haz no interwebs :/ And it really doesn't help that freaking Tasmania has noooo wireless so much so I am forced to leech on-campus (yes, on-campus) computers for connection :p I am also using IEsuck (IT lab computers, sigh)... my life has officially ended.
I am so reliving my university days.
Kancils '08
Leveling progress
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Status: piss poor.
Fact:
- leveling on my paladin is twenty levels of suck. I spend more time PVPing with HORRIBLE DKs instead of leveling. Seriously, leave me alone. Is it really fun getting ass raped instead when you're trying to gank?
- my mage has been 73 since forever. On the plus side, I can teleport to Dalaran, nyah nyah :p
- and no, I'm not an addict (/cough to person who left a message in the post before this; you're welcome to level my mage for me :p). I don't spend (or have) enough time to be classified as an addict (hi2u Nate hehe)
Status: piss poor.
Fact:
- leveling on my paladin is twenty levels of suck. I spend more time PVPing with HORRIBLE DKs instead of leveling. Seriously, leave me alone. Is it really fun getting ass raped instead when you're trying to gank?
- my mage has been 73 since forever. On the plus side, I can teleport to Dalaran, nyah nyah :p
- and no, I'm not an addict (/cough to person who left a message in the post before this; you're welcome to level my mage for me :p). I don't spend (or have) enough time to be classified as an addict (hi2u Nate hehe)
Death Knight Nekomati
Monday, November 17, 2008
First off, +1 to those who got the joke in my DK's name ;p I have to say, the first three levels being a death knight are by far the best levels in WoW I've ever played. You pillage, maim, steal and kill your way through the little town of Havenshire in order to learn the ropes of being a death knight. It's also a nice touch that you have the Lich King whispering little bouts of encouragement like "Finish it!" when you're stabbing some townsfolk and/or a member of the Scarlet Crusade in the face.
Yes, they took morality and clubbed you over the head with it. Poker stabbing humans for information? Check. Using your skeleton drake to chew on Scarlet Crusaders to replenish mana? Check. Hey, I even get 15k experience for using the Neural Needler (cough).
On the other hand, my paladin is getting ass raped by death knights running in packs of five in Hellfire. Seriously. I had this shit for brains blood elf death knight who tried to gank my paladin, only to be owned in return... THREE TIMES. Do you know how much time that bastard cost me!? Ok, I lost round four because a level 65 death knight rode by and helped him out (I was 62 then! :p). But I returned the favor in the fifth round and sat there after one swing watching Yonne's lock light him up.
She's never making it to 80 by the rate this is going T_T
Back to playing death grip volleyball with the lowbies.
First off, +1 to those who got the joke in my DK's name ;p I have to say, the first three levels being a death knight are by far the best levels in WoW I've ever played. You pillage, maim, steal and kill your way through the little town of Havenshire in order to learn the ropes of being a death knight. It's also a nice touch that you have the Lich King whispering little bouts of encouragement like "Finish it!" when you're stabbing some townsfolk and/or a member of the Scarlet Crusade in the face.
Yes, they took morality and clubbed you over the head with it. Poker stabbing humans for information? Check. Using your skeleton drake to chew on Scarlet Crusaders to replenish mana? Check. Hey, I even get 15k experience for using the Neural Needler (cough).
On the other hand, my paladin is getting ass raped by death knights running in packs of five in Hellfire. Seriously. I had this shit for brains blood elf death knight who tried to gank my paladin, only to be owned in return... THREE TIMES. Do you know how much time that bastard cost me!? Ok, I lost round four because a level 65 death knight rode by and helped him out (I was 62 then! :p). But I returned the favor in the fifth round and sat there after one swing watching Yonne's lock light him up.
She's never making it to 80 by the rate this is going T_T
Back to playing death grip volleyball with the lowbies.
Swinging high
Friday, October 10, 2008
It's finally Friday and yesterday was an amazing night of lindy (thanks to KL Swing for bringing Sinclair to town :))!
So yes, this back pain I've been complaining about--yes, the same one that feels like my ribcage is splintering through my back whenever I sneeze... it's amazing how I don't feel a thing when I'm running on an endorphin high lindy hopping and pole-ing. Sad it only triggers when I have to wake up early in the bloody mornings only to groan to the tune of a seventy year old broken rocking chair.
Ah, the addiction to dance <3
It's finally Friday and yesterday was an amazing night of lindy (thanks to KL Swing for bringing Sinclair to town :))!
So yes, this back pain I've been complaining about--yes, the same one that feels like my ribcage is splintering through my back whenever I sneeze... it's amazing how I don't feel a thing when I'm running on an endorphin high lindy hopping and pole-ing. Sad it only triggers when I have to wake up early in the bloody mornings only to groan to the tune of a seventy year old broken rocking chair.
Ah, the addiction to dance <3
It's not dead...
Weekly shortcuts
Monday, September 22, 2008
Adam (don't remember the flippin' address! ;p) has an epic fail of a learning curve with Bluetooth connectivity. In his defense, my own curve took a sinusoidal dump when my mac spun its wheels of death looking for an "unfound Bluetooth PAN."
Later in the same day, I bumped into Fi who said I looked completely different and normal out of the studio. We sometimes pole in our knickers.
Got ambushed at Pebble's station while illegally delivering mushrooms from Fay's table. That highly confused and a bloody month too early for Halloween psycho chick with the guitar and feathery head gear isn't me. Really.
Serious discussion with TJ as to whether or not I've ever tossed a "flaming bag of poo" onto my neighbor's porch. Them crazy Brit kids... and I never knew a douche was a poo bag. I thought it meant shithead and/or something to flush your girly parts with.
I think the peanuts in the rojak at Batai are clearly spiked--makes for pro-as-fuck brainstorming sessions after lunch, no shens.
Helped Ed pick out a purse for his co-worker. Such a pretty Pucci package :) Down with the Ferragamo! The Bottega was nice too... cough. But after all the deliberation, he reverted and decided not to buy it.
Nas rocked the Hangback and we floored the Superman (by floored, I mean we started from the floor to get used to the pain lol):
The seriously-holding-some-shit-in-look: the Superman, sorta kinda
For more pole action: Pole-artiy
Had couples therapy earlier for Aizat and Ditesh with Ditesh unleashing his inner female Gujarati. Wretched humor from the car all the way to A&W for drama between waffle bites... i.e. Ditesh with a shocking find and Raj offering penance:
"I'm sleeping with your *******" "Aha! I knew it, you fucker!"
Feel free to download the image to add your own captioning :P
Although I find the occurrence of social/verbal retardation amongst certain people curiously, albeit perversely amusing (in a purely professional "you dumb fuck, that's an inkblot" manner of course), I am simply too tired to put up with it any longer. I am bowing out (read: STAY AWAY FROM ME). It has been fun sticking a bloody railroad spike through my forehead every other time but I've really got better things to do. I'm not your emotional crash dump outlet. Been there, done that and safe to say I'm not a better person because of that. Rest assured, I will invoice for the therapy sessions accordingly.
Please drown yourself in the aquarium on the way out, thank you. Thank you very much.
Adam (don't remember the flippin' address! ;p) has an epic fail of a learning curve with Bluetooth connectivity. In his defense, my own curve took a sinusoidal dump when my mac spun its wheels of death looking for an "unfound Bluetooth PAN."
Later in the same day, I bumped into Fi who said I looked completely different and normal out of the studio. We sometimes pole in our knickers.
Got ambushed at Pebble's station while illegally delivering mushrooms from Fay's table. That highly confused and a bloody month too early for Halloween psycho chick with the guitar and feathery head gear isn't me. Really.
Serious discussion with TJ as to whether or not I've ever tossed a "flaming bag of poo" onto my neighbor's porch. Them crazy Brit kids... and I never knew a douche was a poo bag. I thought it meant shithead and/or something to flush your girly parts with.
I think the peanuts in the rojak at Batai are clearly spiked--makes for pro-as-fuck brainstorming sessions after lunch, no shens.
Helped Ed pick out a purse for his co-worker. Such a pretty Pucci package :) Down with the Ferragamo! The Bottega was nice too... cough. But after all the deliberation, he reverted and decided not to buy it.
Nas rocked the Hangback and we floored the Superman (by floored, I mean we started from the floor to get used to the pain lol):
The seriously-holding-some-shit-in-look: the Superman, sorta kinda
For more pole action: Pole-artiy
Had couples therapy earlier for Aizat and Ditesh with Ditesh unleashing his inner female Gujarati. Wretched humor from the car all the way to A&W for drama between waffle bites... i.e. Ditesh with a shocking find and Raj offering penance:
"I'm sleeping with your *******" "Aha! I knew it, you fucker!"
Feel free to download the image to add your own captioning :P
Although I find the occurrence of social/verbal retardation amongst certain people curiously, albeit perversely amusing (in a purely professional "you dumb fuck, that's an inkblot" manner of course), I am simply too tired to put up with it any longer. I am bowing out (read: STAY AWAY FROM ME). It has been fun sticking a bloody railroad spike through my forehead every other time but I've really got better things to do. I'm not your emotional crash dump outlet. Been there, done that and safe to say I'm not a better person because of that. Rest assured, I will invoice for the therapy sessions accordingly.
Please drown yourself in the aquarium on the way out, thank you. Thank you very much.
Miserable
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
I'm down with a massive fever that comes cozily with achy breaky joints and the frequent drifting around sleeplessly with the uncanny sensation of a budding, explosive supernova in my head.
That and the only reason I'm writing is to complain about the banana I just had. Of all the accessible fruit in the kitchen, I had to eat this one NORMAL looking banana--that turned out to have a massively mutated seed.
I kid you not.
I would've snapped a photo, but the mushy leftover of what was the middle section of the banana AND THAT GOD FUGLY BLACK SEED wouldn't have made spectacular imagery. Plus I was too disgusted and was busy scrubbing the insides of my mouth out.
If I die before the day of the competition, it's because I've been infected with the alien variety of the banana and its banana-lings have exploded out of my stomach.
I'm down with a massive fever that comes cozily with achy breaky joints and the frequent drifting around sleeplessly with the uncanny sensation of a budding, explosive supernova in my head.
That and the only reason I'm writing is to complain about the banana I just had. Of all the accessible fruit in the kitchen, I had to eat this one NORMAL looking banana--that turned out to have a massively mutated seed.
I kid you not.
I would've snapped a photo, but the mushy leftover of what was the middle section of the banana AND THAT GOD FUGLY BLACK SEED wouldn't have made spectacular imagery. Plus I was too disgusted and was busy scrubbing the insides of my mouth out.
If I die before the day of the competition, it's because I've been infected with the alien variety of the banana and its banana-lings have exploded out of my stomach.
Drip; pass the tissue please
Thursday, July 24, 2008
I'm sick. A day before I turn twenty five. This blows and is a humongous fail of epic proportions.
I'm this close to falling over dead with a leaky, gunk oozing faucet of a nose and I can't even get five minutes worth of sleep to save myself.
Add to that the possibility of needing to show up for work at a client's site on Sunday. S-U-N-D-A-Y. I think my gums just started to bleed from the acid that's moving up my esophagus at the very thought of Sunday morning work.
Also, God kills a lolcat for every stupid, ignorant cowpile text message I get. For the record: God killed three lolcats today.
Be kind to the lolcats and stop. Just stop before I shoot you in the head.
I'm sick. A day before I turn twenty five. This blows and is a humongous fail of epic proportions.
I'm this close to falling over dead with a leaky, gunk oozing faucet of a nose and I can't even get five minutes worth of sleep to save myself.
Add to that the possibility of needing to show up for work at a client's site on Sunday. S-U-N-D-A-Y. I think my gums just started to bleed from the acid that's moving up my esophagus at the very thought of Sunday morning work.
Also, God kills a lolcat for every stupid, ignorant cowpile text message I get. For the record: God killed three lolcats today.
Be kind to the lolcats and stop. Just stop before I shoot you in the head.
Of fire and frost
Monday, July 14, 2008
"Did you need all that Dark Iron ore?"
"Nopes."
"Can use it to make a lock box for your cold undead heart, like Davey Jones *ducks*"
"Davey Jones had a squishy heart. Mine sparkles, from the frost."
"LOL touche."
It's been a long, long disastrous weekend of misplaced laments and wisdom that fell on deaf ears. Thank the divine entities for Saturday night at Genting and Sunday pole-arity.
"Did you need all that Dark Iron ore?"
"Nopes."
"Can use it to make a lock box for your cold undead heart, like Davey Jones *ducks*"
"Davey Jones had a squishy heart. Mine sparkles, from the frost."
"LOL touche."
It's been a long, long disastrous weekend of misplaced laments and wisdom that fell on deaf ears. Thank the divine entities for Saturday night at Genting and Sunday pole-arity.
Water, oil and fire
Friday, July 11, 2008
"He thinks as long as he gets my dad's approval, everything is automatically OK to go with me. I stared. Long and hard."
"Well it is important..."
"Really wanted to ask, 'Wait... you went to the UK to study right... or is that some unknown province in China situated in a prehistoric cave of male chauvinism that I'm completely unaware of?'"
"and once he tames you, your opinion doesn't matter."
"HAHAHAHAHA TEA UP NOSE"
Sometimes I think pushing my face through a burning hot metal grate would feel a lot less painful than having to put up with the impropriety of an epic fail of a casual date... /facepalm
"He thinks as long as he gets my dad's approval, everything is automatically OK to go with me. I stared. Long and hard."
"Well it is important..."
"Really wanted to ask, 'Wait... you went to the UK to study right... or is that some unknown province in China situated in a prehistoric cave of male chauvinism that I'm completely unaware of?'"
"and once he tames you, your opinion doesn't matter."
"HAHAHAHAHA TEA UP NOSE"
Sometimes I think pushing my face through a burning hot metal grate would feel a lot less painful than having to put up with the impropriety of an epic fail of a casual date... /facepalm
Myth busting
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Look. We all have issues.
I'm sorry, but you're not special.
Maybe if you stopped projecting how much you hated your own face and DEAL WITH whatever self esteem problems you have you'd be less of a vicious forgettable whore.
Look. We all have issues.
I'm sorry, but you're not special.
Maybe if you stopped projecting how much you hated your own face and DEAL WITH whatever self esteem problems you have you'd be less of a vicious forgettable whore.
Labels: rant
Mythological creatures
Monday, June 23, 2008
Athena did the right thing when she decided that the Gorgon Medusa's insolence should be punishable by eternal and irreversible fugliness.
Unfortunately, I have to live with a reincarnation of Medusa on a daily basis.
Dodging venom spit (and avoiding having to look at the face) gets terribly monotonous. Someone get me a mirror. Or Perseus.
Athena did the right thing when she decided that the Gorgon Medusa's insolence should be punishable by eternal and irreversible fugliness.
Unfortunately, I have to live with a reincarnation of Medusa on a daily basis.
Dodging venom spit (and avoiding having to look at the face) gets terribly monotonous. Someone get me a mirror. Or Perseus.
Labels: rant
The mystery job
Midnight mockery
Monday, June 16, 2008
Session #615 with Nate:
"Don't quote me but what the fuck is a KIV? Who on earth KIV's a relationship?"
"The same way you casual date =p but wtf is that... what do you do while you 'KIV' a relationship?"
"Exactly. Do you go 'OK ... it's not good right now, but next Tuesday looks good to get serious...' or 'Am having dinner with the boss tomorrow, but I guess we can go steady on Friday if you're suitable.'"
"LOL. Open relationship, giggidy giggidy!"
Session #752 with Ger:
"Someone just asked me 'wtf is a kiv relationship'"
"Lol? Haha."
"I replied, 'a casual date?'"
"Haha. Or trial run."
"The fuck is a trial run, how the fuck do you trial run a relationship!?"
"Casual date!"
"... fucker."
"Hahahahahahhahahahahahahahaha."
Session #615 with Nate:
"Don't quote me but what the fuck is a KIV? Who on earth KIV's a relationship?"
"The same way you casual date =p but wtf is that... what do you do while you 'KIV' a relationship?"
"Exactly. Do you go 'OK ... it's not good right now, but next Tuesday looks good to get serious...' or 'Am having dinner with the boss tomorrow, but I guess we can go steady on Friday if you're suitable.'"
"LOL. Open relationship, giggidy giggidy!"
Session #752 with Ger:
"Someone just asked me 'wtf is a kiv relationship'"
"Lol? Haha."
"I replied, 'a casual date?'"
"Haha. Or trial run."
"The fuck is a trial run, how the fuck do you trial run a relationship!?"
"Casual date!"
"... fucker."
"Hahahahahahhahahahahahahahaha."
S.O.S (Shiny Object Syndrome)
Monday, June 09, 2008
midnight: Damon, oh Damon. When will your book be out?
5:30am: excited about Proximity. Can't sleep, GG.
5:35am: pewpew with Dave in AV. Wrecking face with ret paladin dps! Gotta love a heal bitch druid, yes? <3
8:30am: definitely need more sleep. Whiny, attention seeking whore of a neighbour's dog barking its heart out. Develop need to render it mute. One of these days.
9:50am: realize parking in the building will be potentially lethal. Sucking it up and parking in the building basement anyway.
10am: newbie meeting new people! Reality hits: yes, parking will definitely leave a new crater in what was once my financial status.
10:10am: group trip to the office pantry. Squinting at the puns on the board.
10:30am: a very wired addiction to wireless. LF connectivity in Proximity. GIVE ME MY INTERNET.
10:45am: decided to type this instead and watching the hustle and bustle of daily advertising life--fresh and exciting from previous programming nerdism.
10:47am: what is WIP? Oh... Work-In-Progress :p Oooh, and breakfast!
10:53am: chocolate buns galore from the mini-bakery that magically manifested on the table I'm sitting by. The one with sesame seeds may be red bean.
11am: oh, internet! Where has thou gone.
11:15am: fuck. Chocolate bits all over the keyboard!!!
midnight: Damon, oh Damon. When will your book be out?
5:30am: excited about Proximity. Can't sleep, GG.
5:35am: pewpew with Dave in AV. Wrecking face with ret paladin dps! Gotta love a heal bitch druid, yes? <3
8:30am: definitely need more sleep. Whiny, attention seeking whore of a neighbour's dog barking its heart out. Develop need to render it mute. One of these days.
9:50am: realize parking in the building will be potentially lethal. Sucking it up and parking in the building basement anyway.
10am: newbie meeting new people! Reality hits: yes, parking will definitely leave a new crater in what was once my financial status.
10:10am: group trip to the office pantry. Squinting at the puns on the board.
10:30am: a very wired addiction to wireless. LF connectivity in Proximity. GIVE ME MY INTERNET.
10:45am: decided to type this instead and watching the hustle and bustle of daily advertising life--fresh and exciting from previous programming nerdism.
10:47am: what is WIP? Oh... Work-In-Progress :p Oooh, and breakfast!
10:53am: chocolate buns galore from the mini-bakery that magically manifested on the table I'm sitting by. The one with sesame seeds may be red bean.
11am: oh, internet! Where has thou gone.
11:15am: fuck. Chocolate bits all over the keyboard!!!
Labels: rant
Your bastard personality twin
Friday, May 02, 2008
For the people who don't have an actual twin by birth... have you ever met someone (heck, doesn't even have to be of the same gender) that you could've passed off as your personality twin?
I think I sort of did... well, run into one anyway.
Which just means all the hilarity, bullshit excuses, crude puns, chaos, pissy-ness, dodging and exit strategy mimics that of my own. I will admit some of the dodging I do can get downright tasteless but in my defense, I am a woman and would rather dodge early than end up in situations where I have to shove a stiletto into someone's eyeball and ruin my shoes in the process.
Like myself, my personality twin fakes it well (no pun intended for those who think they caught on ;p YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) but goddamn for shame, grow some balls.
Pulling a stunt like that gives a whole new meaning to dickweed assholery. Grow up man.
For the people who don't have an actual twin by birth... have you ever met someone (heck, doesn't even have to be of the same gender) that you could've passed off as your personality twin?
I think I sort of did... well, run into one anyway.
Which just means all the hilarity, bullshit excuses, crude puns, chaos, pissy-ness, dodging and exit strategy mimics that of my own. I will admit some of the dodging I do can get downright tasteless but in my defense, I am a woman and would rather dodge early than end up in situations where I have to shove a stiletto into someone's eyeball and ruin my shoes in the process.
Like myself, my personality twin fakes it well (no pun intended for those who think they caught on ;p YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) but goddamn for shame, grow some balls.
Pulling a stunt like that gives a whole new meaning to dickweed assholery. Grow up man.
Labels: rant
The neighbour's dog...
Monday, April 28, 2008
is a complete bitch.
Starts barking at 5:30am (oh, I would know), is STILL barking when I get home from work and keeps barking all the way into the night. It actually barks in the afternoons/evenings too (the sad, unfortunate days I had to stay home to tolerate the noise).
Now while this may sound cruel but dumping a bucket of ice cold water over the mutt so I can preserve what's left of my sanity and am no longer sleep deprived seems almost reasonable.
That or my neighbours are completely irresponsible and instead of taking the time to train their dog to not, oh IRRITATE the living daylights out of everyone else on the block, they've decided to just tie the dog out by the fence and let it bark to its heart's content.
If you can't take care of a dog nor are you willing to spend time with one, piss off and don't bloody own one.
One more week of this and I'm calling the SPCA.
is a complete bitch.
Starts barking at 5:30am (oh, I would know), is STILL barking when I get home from work and keeps barking all the way into the night. It actually barks in the afternoons/evenings too (the sad, unfortunate days I had to stay home to tolerate the noise).
Now while this may sound cruel but dumping a bucket of ice cold water over the mutt so I can preserve what's left of my sanity and am no longer sleep deprived seems almost reasonable.
That or my neighbours are completely irresponsible and instead of taking the time to train their dog to not, oh IRRITATE the living daylights out of everyone else on the block, they've decided to just tie the dog out by the fence and let it bark to its heart's content.
If you can't take care of a dog nor are you willing to spend time with one, piss off and don't bloody own one.
One more week of this and I'm calling the SPCA.
Labels: rant
Mage lf job; have reagents for table/port
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Because the last time I updated my resume was oh, let's say, a generation ago... I thought it was only fair (and responsible of me!) that I should invest some time into re-writing it seeing how the other resumes I've been looking at recently have only been as engagingly interesting as watching vegetables decompose into dirt.
Of course I had to throw in JQUERY and AGILE. Maybe SVN. Redux "Honorable Mention". Time Together Facebook application. How's that for keywords?
Was tempted to go all out with RAILS despite the fact I know squat about it (and that I still beg the guys for help :p). I mean, I have been "exposed" to it for about seven months now? Well, a one year round up is only fitting, yes?
To top it off, my resume is now graced with:
"Pro WoW gamer; level 70 frost mage/disc priest/resto druid (armory link provided upon request)"
p/s: I hope the folks at Jobstreet have a sense of humor or I'm probably going to get perma-banned from their site lol But if I can provide an armory link OPTION to my imaginary World of Warcraft characters, I'm sure you designers can provide a portfolio link somewhere. And no, "3 years experience with advanced CSS" and a site full of tables to show for it does not fly. Really.
Because the last time I updated my resume was oh, let's say, a generation ago... I thought it was only fair (and responsible of me!) that I should invest some time into re-writing it seeing how the other resumes I've been looking at recently have only been as engagingly interesting as watching vegetables decompose into dirt.
Of course I had to throw in JQUERY and AGILE. Maybe SVN. Redux "Honorable Mention". Time Together Facebook application. How's that for keywords?
Was tempted to go all out with RAILS despite the fact I know squat about it (and that I still beg the guys for help :p). I mean, I have been "exposed" to it for about seven months now? Well, a one year round up is only fitting, yes?
To top it off, my resume is now graced with:
"Pro WoW gamer; level 70 frost mage/disc priest/resto druid (armory link provided upon request)"
p/s: I hope the folks at Jobstreet have a sense of humor or I'm probably going to get perma-banned from their site lol But if I can provide an armory link OPTION to my imaginary World of Warcraft characters, I'm sure you designers can provide a portfolio link somewhere. And no, "3 years experience with advanced CSS" and a site full of tables to show for it does not fly. Really.
Desperation
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Because Streamyx's jolly crew of technicians take a whole leap year to respond to "technical problems", I'm now a refugee in Starbucks leeching internet. The things I do to feed my addiction.
Good times.
At least the coffee is good.
Because Streamyx's jolly crew of technicians take a whole leap year to respond to "technical problems", I'm now a refugee in Starbucks leeching internet. The things I do to feed my addiction.
Good times.
At least the coffee is good.
Labels: rant
Ready, steady... blotch
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Random Tuesday afternoon musings including (but most definitely not limited to) angsty bitching of sorts:
#1 Dyeing
I love my new red-streaked hair :D Don't worry, incoming self-whoring pictures of mentioned red hair soon. It glows under sunlight *beams* too, fun stuff.
#2 Hiring
I've been left with the amazing task of looking for one uber designer to join the team. Even if I do *immensely* enjoy sifting through nameless resumes of candidates from various backgrounds who ALL seem to have PS/AI experience... for God's sake man, if you're applying for a job as a graphic designer, YOU NEED A BLOODY PORTFOLIO. "Five years experience in Photoshop" just doesn't quite cut it if you've got nothing to show for it, comprende?
And oh, gotta love the ones who've got "advanced" CSS skills with sites made in tables and fugly .green_underline and .blue_font classes in their table rows... I'm beyond flabbergasted.
#3 Coloring
Green colored contact lenses are no workie for Asian eyes. You want green? Skip the "more natural" green and go all out neon turquoise or some funkadelic color. So much for the RED hair and GREEN eyes spectacular Monday shock. I think I'll have one blue and one green this Friday and see how that turns out... yes, my office is an amazing place to work at :p
#4 Dancing
No, I don't look cool when I dance (spaz left, spaz right... some evil bastard reincarnation of crumping and Riverdance, you get the idea)... I mean, I'd like to pretend I do... even though I really, REALLY don't... but yeah. No, I will not youtube.
#5 Tripping
I graduate from moron to clumsy moron in proximity of people (well, there's really just this one person) I'm fond of. Granted I'm not your typical haughty minx to begin with but the alternative of being reduced to a frantic, besotted idiot isn't quite appealing either. Although, I'm not sure if it's noticeable (at least apparently not to him), considering I'm normally bouncing off walls high on air anyway.
#6 Raiding
Yonne needs to stop taking stuff out of the guild bank while he's on my druid lest Nate goes batshit mental when/if 200+ gems disappear again (p/s: this is World of Warcraft related). I love Magister's Terrace but I hate the horde who camp the meeting stone. In other news, I'm pewpew frost and suffer from too much ADHD to own a pet. YES, I CAVED. Now shut it.
#7 Eating
Yees is back (for 2 weeks anyway)! And it has been an eating expedition. It's claypot chicken rice tonight, wewt!
Random Tuesday afternoon musings including (but most definitely not limited to) angsty bitching of sorts:
#1 Dyeing
I love my new red-streaked hair :D Don't worry, incoming self-whoring pictures of mentioned red hair soon. It glows under sunlight *beams* too, fun stuff.
#2 Hiring
I've been left with the amazing task of looking for one uber designer to join the team. Even if I do *immensely* enjoy sifting through nameless resumes of candidates from various backgrounds who ALL seem to have PS/AI experience... for God's sake man, if you're applying for a job as a graphic designer, YOU NEED A BLOODY PORTFOLIO. "Five years experience in Photoshop" just doesn't quite cut it if you've got nothing to show for it, comprende?
And oh, gotta love the ones who've got "advanced" CSS skills with sites made in tables and fugly .green_underline and .blue_font classes in their table rows... I'm beyond flabbergasted.
#3 Coloring
Green colored contact lenses are no workie for Asian eyes. You want green? Skip the "more natural" green and go all out neon turquoise or some funkadelic color. So much for the RED hair and GREEN eyes spectacular Monday shock. I think I'll have one blue and one green this Friday and see how that turns out... yes, my office is an amazing place to work at :p
#4 Dancing
No, I don't look cool when I dance (spaz left, spaz right... some evil bastard reincarnation of crumping and Riverdance, you get the idea)... I mean, I'd like to pretend I do... even though I really, REALLY don't... but yeah. No, I will not youtube.
#5 Tripping
I graduate from moron to clumsy moron in proximity of people (well, there's really just this one person) I'm fond of. Granted I'm not your typical haughty minx to begin with but the alternative of being reduced to a frantic, besotted idiot isn't quite appealing either. Although, I'm not sure if it's noticeable (at least apparently not to him), considering I'm normally bouncing off walls high on air anyway.
#6 Raiding
Yonne needs to stop taking stuff out of the guild bank while he's on my druid lest Nate goes batshit mental when/if 200+ gems disappear again (p/s: this is World of Warcraft related). I love Magister's Terrace but I hate the horde who camp the meeting stone. In other news, I'm pewpew frost and suffer from too much ADHD to own a pet. YES, I CAVED. Now shut it.
#7 Eating
Yees is back (for 2 weeks anyway)! And it has been an eating expedition. It's claypot chicken rice tonight, wewt!
The morning after a public holiday
Friday, March 21, 2008
Early 8am - bolt up in bed. Overslept. Blame imaginary friend, Poodles.
8:15am - hop downstairs, barely missing last step and nearly falling on face only to listen to neighbour's dog bark/yelp/whine away. Refrain from going out and throwing shoe across fence.
8:25am - breakfast cereal takes more effort to eat than it did to wake up.
8:30am - out the door to work. Glare at neighbour's dog. Suddenly remember why the preference to cats.
Between 8:30am and 9am - some car decides to break down. Delays trip to work. Twiddle thumbs waiting for traffic to clear. Grimace at Maxis' terrible promo ad which is blatant rip off of Ikea's previous sale ad.
Teeny bit past 9am - strut into the office... realize no one's around T_T Now wondering if everyone took the day off.
Early 8am - bolt up in bed. Overslept. Blame imaginary friend, Poodles.
8:15am - hop downstairs, barely missing last step and nearly falling on face only to listen to neighbour's dog bark/yelp/whine away. Refrain from going out and throwing shoe across fence.
8:25am - breakfast cereal takes more effort to eat than it did to wake up.
8:30am - out the door to work. Glare at neighbour's dog. Suddenly remember why the preference to cats.
Between 8:30am and 9am - some car decides to break down. Delays trip to work. Twiddle thumbs waiting for traffic to clear. Grimace at Maxis' terrible promo ad which is blatant rip off of Ikea's previous sale ad.
Teeny bit past 9am - strut into the office... realize no one's around T_T Now wondering if everyone took the day off.
Labels: rant
Chew-ing them out
Friday, March 07, 2008
nekomatta.com is a politically neutral blog.
But in the festive (and semi-feminist) mood of elections and International Women's Day, I'd like to dedicate a fuck-you-/facepalm to the two most useless female reps in BN: Carol Chew and Chew Mei Fun.
I'm only bringing this up because I'm quite annoyed--women like them set us all DISGRACEFULLY back a few hundred years. One's a vicious cow of a cunt act, the other a mindless recorder devoid of any intelligence and self-opinion. Fantastic.
Also, I'm a tree-hugging hippie and I'm hating this round of elections because it breeds pollution.
The vast amount of dirty posters hanging about which will undoubtedly NOT be removed once campaigning is over is quite the bloody eyesore. Oh... not to mention the flags that are precariously stabbed into cracks in pillars by the highway (i.e. the LDP) threatening to block out any sunlight (you know, the dark color and all). That just screams accident waiting to happen: that flag is going to fall one day.
Happy voting tomorrow Malaysians! :)
nekomatta.com is a politically neutral blog.
But in the festive (and semi-feminist) mood of elections and International Women's Day, I'd like to dedicate a fuck-you-/facepalm to the two most useless female reps in BN: Carol Chew and Chew Mei Fun.
I'm only bringing this up because I'm quite annoyed--women like them set us all DISGRACEFULLY back a few hundred years. One's a vicious cow of a cunt act, the other a mindless recorder devoid of any intelligence and self-opinion. Fantastic.
Also, I'm a tree-hugging hippie and I'm hating this round of elections because it breeds pollution.
The vast amount of dirty posters hanging about which will undoubtedly NOT be removed once campaigning is over is quite the bloody eyesore. Oh... not to mention the flags that are precariously stabbed into cracks in pillars by the highway (i.e. the LDP) threatening to block out any sunlight (you know, the dark color and all). That just screams accident waiting to happen: that flag is going to fall one day.
Happy voting tomorrow Malaysians! :)
Labels: rant
Two minutes too late
Thursday, March 06, 2008
I'd Twitter this but it shot over 140 characters and I can't be arsed to trim the fat:
I hate people who wait for others to make a decision only for them to disagree with the decision right off the bat because it ends up being inconvenient to them :)
It is not rocket science: if you are FULLY AWARE beforehand that you have certain limitations, and if you don't speak up, it only leads to the general postulation that you'll be fine with whatever gets suggested.
Please don't be the dickwheel who cries afterwards :)
I'd Twitter this but it shot over 140 characters and I can't be arsed to trim the fat:
I hate people who wait for others to make a decision only for them to disagree with the decision right off the bat because it ends up being inconvenient to them :)
It is not rocket science: if you are FULLY AWARE beforehand that you have certain limitations, and if you don't speak up, it only leads to the general postulation that you'll be fine with whatever gets suggested.
Please don't be the dickwheel who cries afterwards :)
Labels: rant
WoW.geekout.upto(70)
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
And yes, that title is me attempting to be hip with Rails. That and reading Why's book has left me in a sordid state of bat shit mental confusion.
I am quite amazed (by amazed I really mean creeped out) at how freakishly animated I get when I talk about my mage/priest/druid. I spent one hour talking to KS about how overpowered his rogue is ahem, should he come back to play that is, and that I run off screaming like a little girl when I see one on my mage. It's sickening how I am able to moan about how overpowered the twin blades of Illidan are when I've yet to actually set foot into Black Temple.
The only time I actually see them is when I'm in the arenas getting a new one torn by Undead Rogue #8712347 who just HAPPENS to be in full tier 6 gear and just HAPPENS to be in the lowbie bracket.
I'm not crying. I'm not crying.
Excuse me while I go beat on every stun spell/talent/proc with a splintered bat before setting it on fire.
And yes, that title is me attempting to be hip with Rails. That and reading Why's book has left me in a sordid state of bat shit mental confusion.
I am quite amazed (by amazed I really mean creeped out) at how freakishly animated I get when I talk about my mage/priest/druid. I spent one hour talking to KS about how overpowered his rogue is ahem, should he come back to play that is, and that I run off screaming like a little girl when I see one on my mage. It's sickening how I am able to moan about how overpowered the twin blades of Illidan are when I've yet to actually set foot into Black Temple.
The only time I actually see them is when I'm in the arenas getting a new one torn by Undead Rogue #8712347 who just HAPPENS to be in full tier 6 gear and just HAPPENS to be in the lowbie bracket.
I'm not crying. I'm not crying.
Excuse me while I go beat on every stun spell/talent/proc with a splintered bat before setting it on fire.
Leap of faith
Friday, February 29, 2008
Because we only get this magnificent day every four years... happy 29th! :)
The folks of the ancient civilizations had a wicked sense of humor... and thought it'd be a gas to add one odd day in February to make up for the collective hours we missed in the past three years... and thereby effectively screwing over birthdays for the 29th Feb babies.
So this short post is to all (people/pets/relationships/etc.) who came into existence on "that odd day" in a leap year. Happy birthday to all the 29th Feb babies around the world, your birthday is finally here again :)
Today is your day, celebrate! ^^;
Because we only get this magnificent day every four years... happy 29th! :)
The folks of the ancient civilizations had a wicked sense of humor... and thought it'd be a gas to add one odd day in February to make up for the collective hours we missed in the past three years... and thereby effectively screwing over birthdays for the 29th Feb babies.
So this short post is to all (people/pets/relationships/etc.) who came into existence on "that odd day" in a leap year. Happy birthday to all the 29th Feb babies around the world, your birthday is finally here again :)
Today is your day, celebrate! ^^;
Labels: rant
-17 degrees Celsius
Thursday, January 31, 2008
And that is how cold it is. My fingers are frozen and I've got a few pulled muscles from stretching out with an armload or two of clothing while trying to reach that DAMN sweater on the top shelf.
Oh, we had lamb brains for dinner too ;)
Here's a sneak preview...
What's left of Andrew's dinner--the lamb skull
And that is how cold it is. My fingers are frozen and I've got a few pulled muscles from stretching out with an armload or two of clothing while trying to reach that DAMN sweater on the top shelf.
Oh, we had lamb brains for dinner too ;)
Here's a sneak preview...
What's left of Andrew's dinner--the lamb skull
Labels: rant
Youth, punks!
Thursday, January 17, 2008
One more flop from the friendly folks at YouthMalaysia (no, I'm not linking to their site solely based on the fact that I'm anti-Dreamweaver mass produced sites)... they sent everyone who participated in the Dotcom Youth Search event email.
By "send" I really mean they had everyone's email in the "To:" line.
Some of the people on the list were quite friendly and saw it as new means of networking, which isn't all that bad. I had a few good giggles from the bandwagoners :)
Unfortunately, my inbox is also now cluttered with SPAM from some of the shameless, self-whoring assholes on the list who've added all our emails to their mailing list in hopes to promote their craptastic sites.
YouthMalaysia needs to l2email while the other rubbish email bottom-feeders need to remove all our emails from their foul list or at least have a goddamn unsubscribe link so I never have to get email in piss poor, barely legible English from their company ever again.
One more flop from the friendly folks at YouthMalaysia (no, I'm not linking to their site solely based on the fact that I'm anti-Dreamweaver mass produced sites)... they sent everyone who participated in the Dotcom Youth Search event email.
By "send" I really mean they had everyone's email in the "To:" line.
Some of the people on the list were quite friendly and saw it as new means of networking, which isn't all that bad. I had a few good giggles from the bandwagoners :)
Unfortunately, my inbox is also now cluttered with SPAM from some of the shameless, self-whoring assholes on the list who've added all our emails to their mailing list in hopes to promote their craptastic sites.
YouthMalaysia needs to l2email while the other rubbish email bottom-feeders need to remove all our emails from their foul list or at least have a goddamn unsubscribe link so I never have to get email in piss poor, barely legible English from their company ever again.
Exotic sleep patterns
Monday, January 14, 2008
Streamyx was down again at work this morning. I swear I'm going to start charting the amount of times our connection goes down and send it over to TM HQ as solid proof that they are reaching new heights of massive suckage. But I'm sure they already know this :)
On another plane of existence, I am currently sleeping on (and of course, the very proud owner of) a silk worm pillow... which is basically a silk pillow with a little pocket in the center that's padded and lined with silk worm droppings fresh from China. Sleeping has never been more disconcerting.
Silk is supposedly extraordinarily healthy for you... from rheumatism to migraines, you can virtually cure them all (over extended periods of use naturally) simply by wearing or sleeping in the amazing silk products!
No, I didn't pull that randomly out of my ass--it's what the tour guide in the silk factory told my parents.
While it may be true, as I'm tossing and turning in the silk blanket this morning (yessir, the folks went wild with the silk), I begin to wonder if it's even silk at all...
Oh pish, sleeping aside, I have better uses for silk anyway.
Streamyx was down again at work this morning. I swear I'm going to start charting the amount of times our connection goes down and send it over to TM HQ as solid proof that they are reaching new heights of massive suckage. But I'm sure they already know this :)
On another plane of existence, I am currently sleeping on (and of course, the very proud owner of) a silk worm pillow... which is basically a silk pillow with a little pocket in the center that's padded and lined with silk worm droppings fresh from China. Sleeping has never been more disconcerting.
Silk is supposedly extraordinarily healthy for you... from rheumatism to migraines, you can virtually cure them all (over extended periods of use naturally) simply by wearing or sleeping in the amazing silk products!
No, I didn't pull that randomly out of my ass--it's what the tour guide in the silk factory told my parents.
While it may be true, as I'm tossing and turning in the silk blanket this morning (yessir, the folks went wild with the silk), I begin to wonder if it's even silk at all...
Oh pish, sleeping aside, I have better uses for silk anyway.
This fountain of youth
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Because I'm a developer and designer-wannabe at heart... I have only this to say:
YOUR JSCRIPT MESSES UP SITES
... i.e. see that wickedly cool horizontal bar or nasty 3px gap that appears on every site that carries the shameless little JScript "Vote for me!" dog ear when you're not using IE?
While looking for the NEXT HOTSHOT Dotcom youth, the people at Youth Malaysia completely forgot to actually hire a Dotcom "person" to make sure their JScript doesn't ONLY work on the IE browsers.
Charity begins at home kids.
And we've got a long, long way to go.
p/s: I'm only tolerating the bad JScript cause the gents in the office thought it'd be cool to have a submission to the Dotcom Youth Search
Because I'm a developer and designer-wannabe at heart... I have only this to say:
YOUR JSCRIPT MESSES UP SITES
... i.e. see that wickedly cool horizontal bar or nasty 3px gap that appears on every site that carries the shameless little JScript "Vote for me!" dog ear when you're not using IE?
While looking for the NEXT HOTSHOT Dotcom youth, the people at Youth Malaysia completely forgot to actually hire a Dotcom "person" to make sure their JScript doesn't ONLY work on the IE browsers.
Charity begins at home kids.
And we've got a long, long way to go.
p/s: I'm only tolerating the bad JScript cause the gents in the office thought it'd be cool to have a submission to the Dotcom Youth Search
Apple pee
Sunday, November 11, 2007
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: anyone i date must drink green tea. even if i have to force feed them green tea.. because i like green tea xD
RAGE says: its good
RAGE says: did he drink it?
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: actually, no, he drinks apple pee
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: LOL
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: he's never had fresh apple juice
RAGE says: lol
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: like freshly squeezed
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: he says it's not economical!
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: i'm like.. that OTHER APPLE JUICE you're drinking, it's not apple juice
RAGE says: ...
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: it's apple pee
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: it's disgusting
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: and super sweet lol
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: i call it apple pee
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: anyone i date must drink green tea. even if i have to force feed them green tea.. because i like green tea xD
RAGE says: its good
RAGE says: did he drink it?
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: actually, no, he drinks apple pee
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: LOL
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: he's never had fresh apple juice
RAGE says: lol
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: like freshly squeezed
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: he says it's not economical!
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: i'm like.. that OTHER APPLE JUICE you're drinking, it's not apple juice
RAGE says: ...
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: it's apple pee
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: it's disgusting
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: and super sweet lol
sean^2 is nekomatta.com says: i call it apple pee
Labels: rant
When you just don't give two shits
Sunday, October 07, 2007
To whom it may concern,
Please don't take this the wrong way but I'm having a tremendously awful day and I just have to say, I don't really care about your graphics card. I don't, I really don't. Nor do I care about how big your laptop screen size is or will be. If you want to brag about your computer/laptop/server or machine-that-allows-you-to-process-word-documents, it is quite painfully obvious you're directing it to the wrong audience--i.e. a person who isn't the "hardcore" power user. Frankly, that's not my idea of a healthy conversation when you obsess over technological parts like there's nothing else to talk about. What about the weather? The color of your pet's fur? Perhaps your kitchen stoneware?
This is (sadly) not the first time you've brought up your (or soon to be yours) computer specs, not the second... and it definitely doesn't seem like it's going to be the last. I like my technology but it's disturbing to have to talk about how sexy your graphics card is every time you open your mouth. This is why I ignore you after awhile. Or I just phase out.
The way I see it, I don't talk to you about let's say, shoes to the extent I put you in an awkward situation where you have to uncomfortably albeit obligingly agree or disagree with what I say when in reality you're thinking of the quickest exit out of the conversation without having to resort to, "What the fuck are you talking about, you dumb bitch?"
Now, pay attention. This is the difficult part; following the train of thought from the previous paragraph: STOP TALKING TO ME ABOUT YOUR DAMN GRAPHICS CARD. I am your friend and my heart bleeds at the possibility of needing to call you a dumb bitch just to stake the point home... through your heart.
Stop being a bitter, arrogant snot and buy the damn thing already. Or heck, I don't know. Frame it up, worship it on your altar, sacrifice virgins to the almighty graphics card or have a picnic with it. In any case, I just don't want to hear what you did with it after. Ever.
I also have to point out that I have absolutely NO (takde, nada, mou, mei, bo) interest whatsoever in glorifying the fact that you can log into WoW smack in the middle of Shattrah City at a super kinky 70 fps. If it looks smooth, more power to you. Do I look like I really, really, really care if I can't see the intricate shimmer on the underside of Al'dal's otherworldly form? I also don't give two shits if you're crying about lacking anymore settings you can turn up because the resolution is maxed out and even Bioshock looks completely awesome. Boo bloody hoo. And again, I can't emphasize how much I just really don't care.
Actually, scratch that "really"; I JUST DON'T CARE.
Regards,
nekomatta
To whom it may concern,
Please don't take this the wrong way but I'm having a tremendously awful day and I just have to say, I don't really care about your graphics card. I don't, I really don't. Nor do I care about how big your laptop screen size is or will be. If you want to brag about your computer/laptop/server or machine-that-allows-you-to-process-word-documents, it is quite painfully obvious you're directing it to the wrong audience--i.e. a person who isn't the "hardcore" power user. Frankly, that's not my idea of a healthy conversation when you obsess over technological parts like there's nothing else to talk about. What about the weather? The color of your pet's fur? Perhaps your kitchen stoneware?
This is (sadly) not the first time you've brought up your (or soon to be yours) computer specs, not the second... and it definitely doesn't seem like it's going to be the last. I like my technology but it's disturbing to have to talk about how sexy your graphics card is every time you open your mouth. This is why I ignore you after awhile. Or I just phase out.
The way I see it, I don't talk to you about let's say, shoes to the extent I put you in an awkward situation where you have to uncomfortably albeit obligingly agree or disagree with what I say when in reality you're thinking of the quickest exit out of the conversation without having to resort to, "What the fuck are you talking about, you dumb bitch?"
Now, pay attention. This is the difficult part; following the train of thought from the previous paragraph: STOP TALKING TO ME ABOUT YOUR DAMN GRAPHICS CARD. I am your friend and my heart bleeds at the possibility of needing to call you a dumb bitch just to stake the point home... through your heart.
Stop being a bitter, arrogant snot and buy the damn thing already. Or heck, I don't know. Frame it up, worship it on your altar, sacrifice virgins to the almighty graphics card or have a picnic with it. In any case, I just don't want to hear what you did with it after. Ever.
I also have to point out that I have absolutely NO (takde, nada, mou, mei, bo) interest whatsoever in glorifying the fact that you can log into WoW smack in the middle of Shattrah City at a super kinky 70 fps. If it looks smooth, more power to you. Do I look like I really, really, really care if I can't see the intricate shimmer on the underside of Al'dal's otherworldly form? I also don't give two shits if you're crying about lacking anymore settings you can turn up because the resolution is maxed out and even Bioshock looks completely awesome. Boo bloody hoo. And again, I can't emphasize how much I just really don't care.
Actually, scratch that "really"; I JUST DON'T CARE.
Regards,
nekomatta
Labels: rant
Speed, CSS and elevator candy
Thursday, October 04, 2007
People in Cyberjaya are freaks. Here I am driving on the supposed fast lane taking corners at 110km/hr--no, I do not have a death wish... and yet, there are cars whizzing (and wheezing) past me on the left at tire squealing, bumper-rattling speeds.
I'm not sure if I should be more worried about the other guy violently swerving into my lane or having his bumper fly off and come at me at a projectile speed that is capable of causing instant and total brain mass splatter.
I count myself lucky I didn't get kitty bits on my windscreen when he barely missed running over the already very dead roadkill in the middle of the road in front of us.
Getting to work has never been so much fun.
But I really do despise leaving work mainly because of the obscene traffic that's caused by a poorly designed death-trap of a bottleneck that is more lovingly known as the Sunway toll.
And oh boy, have I developed a new capacity of HATE for the Sunway toll... and all the bloody morons who floor their accelerators only to come to a grinding halt in the WRONG LANE and attempt to cross three lanes of HEAVY traffic because they were too impatient to wait behind five other cars.
On a cheery note, did I mention there's an engineer/IT person who works on the second floor who's shamelessly easy on the eyes? Hot and techy with big, strong arms... obviously from all the programming.
What? You think I only look at code all day?
CSS is undeniably sexy but elevator candy is that much sexier.
People in Cyberjaya are freaks. Here I am driving on the supposed fast lane taking corners at 110km/hr--no, I do not have a death wish... and yet, there are cars whizzing (and wheezing) past me on the left at tire squealing, bumper-rattling speeds.
I'm not sure if I should be more worried about the other guy violently swerving into my lane or having his bumper fly off and come at me at a projectile speed that is capable of causing instant and total brain mass splatter.
I count myself lucky I didn't get kitty bits on my windscreen when he barely missed running over the already very dead roadkill in the middle of the road in front of us.
Getting to work has never been so much fun.
But I really do despise leaving work mainly because of the obscene traffic that's caused by a poorly designed death-trap of a bottleneck that is more lovingly known as the Sunway toll.
And oh boy, have I developed a new capacity of HATE for the Sunway toll... and all the bloody morons who floor their accelerators only to come to a grinding halt in the WRONG LANE and attempt to cross three lanes of HEAVY traffic because they were too impatient to wait behind five other cars.
On a cheery note, did I mention there's an engineer/IT person who works on the second floor who's shamelessly easy on the eyes? Hot and techy with big, strong arms... obviously from all the programming.
What? You think I only look at code all day?
CSS is undeniably sexy but elevator candy is that much sexier.
Hallmark card greetings
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
"Meeting you would be like going for a root canal."
"You're like a durian; sweet and foul at the same time."
I love my friends, my other half and my other other half but... COME. ON. YOU GUYS!?
I realize my charming personality as well as my ostentatious albeit deplorably sordid (at best) wit and humor doesn't even graze the surface of propriety nor does it exude the grace and elegance one would attach to the generic female species but REALLY NOW.
Dental work analogies? And a durian!? Do I look like a fruit to you?
Okay, wait. Don't answer that.
"Meeting you would be like going for a root canal."
"You're like a durian; sweet and foul at the same time."
I love my friends, my other half and my other other half but... COME. ON. YOU GUYS!?
I realize my charming personality as well as my ostentatious albeit deplorably sordid (at best) wit and humor doesn't even graze the surface of propriety nor does it exude the grace and elegance one would attach to the generic female species but REALLY NOW.
Dental work analogies? And a durian!? Do I look like a fruit to you?
Okay, wait. Don't answer that.
Labels: rant
We're nearly 50
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
No better way to celebrate than setting the skies of Putrajaya on fire with dazzling, explosive light shows, eh?
What? Didn't they ban fireworks in Malaysia?
No, you ninny. I'm not talking about the baby pyrotechnomaniacs who literally have their faces shoved into the butt of a firecracker or are hanging onto one for dear life before it explodes.
Oh, so shiny... follow the flickering fuse but don't cry to mum when the skyrocket fuses with your fingers just as it takes off.
If they don't know any better they shouldn't even be allowed to toss the little pop-pops lest they completely miss the ground, burn their feet and launch prematurely into an exploration of pain... and then some.
Such a fine, fine line.
No better way to celebrate than setting the skies of Putrajaya on fire with dazzling, explosive light shows, eh?
What? Didn't they ban fireworks in Malaysia?
No, you ninny. I'm not talking about the baby pyrotechnomaniacs who literally have their faces shoved into the butt of a firecracker or are hanging onto one for dear life before it explodes.
Oh, so shiny... follow the flickering fuse but don't cry to mum when the skyrocket fuses with your fingers just as it takes off.
If they don't know any better they shouldn't even be allowed to toss the little pop-pops lest they completely miss the ground, burn their feet and launch prematurely into an exploration of pain... and then some.
Such a fine, fine line.
Labels: rant
Write. You. Me. Space. Word.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Not to be a complete hater or anything remotely close to being a spiteful bitch but, people who
ultimately
yeah?
blog like this
for the most part
who think they're off the charts
COOL
really -_-
should take their style with them, fall in a well and proceed to drown.
You hear that gentle splash? Followed by a rumble in the earth? That's E.E. Cummings rolling in his grave at the piss poor modern imitators.
I know, stop reading, right?
I did! Right after a fleeting glance of that first four lines... which is quite the embodiment of classic ADHD writing capacity and the unfortunate result of a compulsive Return key hitter.
I suppose this is why creative poetry was never a subject in high school. At least, not in my high school (not even in English Lit! Unless that's been changed recently...). The countless hours I'd spend defending my "works of art" with defiant logic on subjectivity would've been sinfully gratifying... much to the annoyance and chagrin of my teachers of course.
Oh, come now. You know that would've at least taken the snore out of finishing those pseudo 1119 English exam papers in a scant forty five minutes after the paper commenced.
Not to be a complete hater or anything remotely close to being a spiteful bitch but, people who
ultimately
yeah?
blog like this
for the most part
who think they're off the charts
COOL
really -_-
should take their style with them, fall in a well and proceed to drown.
You hear that gentle splash? Followed by a rumble in the earth? That's E.E. Cummings rolling in his grave at the piss poor modern imitators.
I know, stop reading, right?
I did! Right after a fleeting glance of that first four lines... which is quite the embodiment of classic ADHD writing capacity and the unfortunate result of a compulsive Return key hitter.
I suppose this is why creative poetry was never a subject in high school. At least, not in my high school (not even in English Lit! Unless that's been changed recently...). The countless hours I'd spend defending my "works of art" with defiant logic on subjectivity would've been sinfully gratifying... much to the annoyance and chagrin of my teachers of course.
Oh, come now. You know that would've at least taken the snore out of finishing those pseudo 1119 English exam papers in a scant forty five minutes after the paper commenced.
Labels: rant
Simplification
Friday, August 03, 2007
Lately I've come to discover the pains of being stoic and concise with my words. Not by choice, really. I am compelled to be sparse with my previously witty retorts and shamelessly unhelpful remarks.
It is quite possible I'm getting lazy with my vocabulary to a point where what I really do want to say gets mushed into a generic "maybe" instead which is then followed by an aptly timed smirk, giggle or laugh.
It's quite a shame; such loss of zeal in verbal banter can be disheartening at times.
Because of recent events, I've been diagnosed with lawn-chair syndrome... meaning how it folds? I spit at the analogy; who started such bloody nonsense anyway?
Granted neither blubbering nor sputtering were any of my virtues but in my current state of discontent I can only muster up a sickly "bleh" before I falter. Although, the thought of me being tongue-tied can be such a relief to the few who can't seem to get me to hush.
The other few times I'm seemingly voluntarily quiet would be times when I'm caught with a question to which its answer I'm forced to paraphrase on the spot just to be courteous. Oh yes, there are times where I've made up ridiculous things along the way... like when I was trying to play nice and practically ground out each word trying to describe my healthy relationship with Terry. Of course it came out as a succinct albeit forced five-word phrase complimented with a smile so mad it shred rainbows.
What I had really wanted to say had something to the effect of Terry being a constant bitch and disagreeing with (almost) everything he says makes the sun shine a little brighter and the symphony of strings a little more melodiously victorious every damn time a rebuttal is exchanged <3 Gleeful sarcasm is your best friend, rivalled only by deadpanned sarcasm.
On sarcasm, it has been said that every time I'm sarcastic baby Jesus cries... which would explain why he cries a whole lot (shock! Such slander).
Gotta love your friends! Even the ones who listen to techno (oh, more of your ships sank in EVE? *tear*).
Fridays have never moved at such a fascinatingly slow pace riddled with self-lament fused with complete and utter bullshit.
Lately I've come to discover the pains of being stoic and concise with my words. Not by choice, really. I am compelled to be sparse with my previously witty retorts and shamelessly unhelpful remarks.
It is quite possible I'm getting lazy with my vocabulary to a point where what I really do want to say gets mushed into a generic "maybe" instead which is then followed by an aptly timed smirk, giggle or laugh.
It's quite a shame; such loss of zeal in verbal banter can be disheartening at times.
Because of recent events, I've been diagnosed with lawn-chair syndrome... meaning how it folds? I spit at the analogy; who started such bloody nonsense anyway?
Granted neither blubbering nor sputtering were any of my virtues but in my current state of discontent I can only muster up a sickly "bleh" before I falter. Although, the thought of me being tongue-tied can be such a relief to the few who can't seem to get me to hush.
The other few times I'm seemingly voluntarily quiet would be times when I'm caught with a question to which its answer I'm forced to paraphrase on the spot just to be courteous. Oh yes, there are times where I've made up ridiculous things along the way... like when I was trying to play nice and practically ground out each word trying to describe my healthy relationship with Terry. Of course it came out as a succinct albeit forced five-word phrase complimented with a smile so mad it shred rainbows.
What I had really wanted to say had something to the effect of Terry being a constant bitch and disagreeing with (almost) everything he says makes the sun shine a little brighter and the symphony of strings a little more melodiously victorious every damn time a rebuttal is exchanged <3 Gleeful sarcasm is your best friend, rivalled only by deadpanned sarcasm.
On sarcasm, it has been said that every time I'm sarcastic baby Jesus cries... which would explain why he cries a whole lot (shock! Such slander).
Gotta love your friends! Even the ones who listen to techno (oh, more of your ships sank in EVE? *tear*).
Fridays have never moved at such a fascinatingly slow pace riddled with self-lament fused with complete and utter bullshit.
Labels: rant
Oral fixation
Thursday, April 26, 2007
To the people from Illidan who are currently reading this post, the only reason I'm blogging is because my prepaid time ran out. Yes, I got pwned big time... considering I just got my dirty little hands on a sexy flying epic ;/
In other news, going to the dentist is almost as exciting as falling face first into unforgivngly brittle asphalt after leaping off the pinnacle of the Petronas Twin Towers. After the -longest- time, I went to see the dentist to get some scaling work done.
I've been meaning to do it, really.
But I've just been putting it off... I wonder why, hmm.
However, it was when the ultrasonic scaler hit my gums and sent a nasty ricochet straight down to my toes had I realize why I NEVER did make a dental appointment and seemingly procrastinate in actually going to one for the longest time ever.
God, I hate going to the dentist for tooth scaling.
At least wisdom tooth removal came with local anaesthetic... well, after you feel that huge needle make its way into your delicate gums. Scaling? Head-on collision of sterile, unyielding metal with raw, tender tissue. Also, post wisdom tooth removal perks included fun stuff like Oxycodone; post tooth scaling however, just came with the lingering phantom high-pitched buzz of the scaler stuck in your head for the next few hours or so.
Ugh.
I have beautifully clean and shiny teeth now.
Yes, beautifully clean and shiny teeth that I can grit in annoyance when my aunt (who's been living with us for about two weeks now) starts talking to me like she's trying to get the attention of a three year old who's too busy drooling over herself to care about anything else.
Even though I am aware it's morbidly hilarious from a third party's point of view, dealing with my aunt is quite exasperating.
That whole baby voice talk? Apparently it's only reserved for me since she does this auto voice switch from talking to my parents. Maybe your husband and son will appreciate it... hell, probably your son's kid will love it BUT your twenty-three year old niece DOES NOT.
Frankly, the tone of her voice stresses me out and it takes all my self control to not pop a vein in my neck and scream at her when she does that -_-
Gosh, I won't even start with her habits that are driving me batshit insane right up the nearest wall.
Three more days. Just three more days.
And if you're wondering, yes, I do try to ignore her. No, I don't feel bad for ignoring and being the rude, unresponding, uncaring niece because ignorance really is bliss at times.
A little scary, but true.
Speaking of scary, Ed mentioned that my profile on MSN looks scary...
Scary -_-
Ed said it "look like the stare of woman when they found something out about u."
To which I countered in the conversation below:
sean :: nekomatta.com says: i think i'll blog
sean :: nekomatta.com says: and put up this picture --->
sean :: nekomatta.com says: and your commentary about it
sean :: nekomatta.com says: LOL
*sierra Edward says: lol
*sierra Edward says: damn
*sierra Edward says: i close the picture fyi
*sierra Edward says: lol
sean :: nekomatta.com says: lol
*sierra Edward says: i don't like stare haha
*sierra Edward says: that stare imply so many things.. i.e. u peed on the bed last night
sean :: nekomatta.com says: LOL
*sierra Edward says: haha
*sierra Edward says: k don't put that on commentary btw
sean :: nekomatta.com says: sooo going up
*sierra Edward says: damn
It doesn't look that scary :(
To the people from Illidan who are currently reading this post, the only reason I'm blogging is because my prepaid time ran out. Yes, I got pwned big time... considering I just got my dirty little hands on a sexy flying epic ;/
In other news, going to the dentist is almost as exciting as falling face first into unforgivngly brittle asphalt after leaping off the pinnacle of the Petronas Twin Towers. After the -longest- time, I went to see the dentist to get some scaling work done.
I've been meaning to do it, really.
But I've just been putting it off... I wonder why, hmm.
However, it was when the ultrasonic scaler hit my gums and sent a nasty ricochet straight down to my toes had I realize why I NEVER did make a dental appointment and seemingly procrastinate in actually going to one for the longest time ever.
God, I hate going to the dentist for tooth scaling.
At least wisdom tooth removal came with local anaesthetic... well, after you feel that huge needle make its way into your delicate gums. Scaling? Head-on collision of sterile, unyielding metal with raw, tender tissue. Also, post wisdom tooth removal perks included fun stuff like Oxycodone; post tooth scaling however, just came with the lingering phantom high-pitched buzz of the scaler stuck in your head for the next few hours or so.
Ugh.
I have beautifully clean and shiny teeth now.
Yes, beautifully clean and shiny teeth that I can grit in annoyance when my aunt (who's been living with us for about two weeks now) starts talking to me like she's trying to get the attention of a three year old who's too busy drooling over herself to care about anything else.
Even though I am aware it's morbidly hilarious from a third party's point of view, dealing with my aunt is quite exasperating.
That whole baby voice talk? Apparently it's only reserved for me since she does this auto voice switch from talking to my parents. Maybe your husband and son will appreciate it... hell, probably your son's kid will love it BUT your twenty-three year old niece DOES NOT.
Frankly, the tone of her voice stresses me out and it takes all my self control to not pop a vein in my neck and scream at her when she does that -_-
Gosh, I won't even start with her habits that are driving me batshit insane right up the nearest wall.
Three more days. Just three more days.
And if you're wondering, yes, I do try to ignore her. No, I don't feel bad for ignoring and being the rude, unresponding, uncaring niece because ignorance really is bliss at times.
A little scary, but true.
Speaking of scary, Ed mentioned that my profile on MSN looks scary...
Scary -_-
Ed said it "look like the stare of woman when they found something out about u."
To which I countered in the conversation below:
sean :: nekomatta.com says: i think i'll blog
sean :: nekomatta.com says: and put up this picture --->
sean :: nekomatta.com says: and your commentary about it
sean :: nekomatta.com says: LOL
*sierra Edward says: lol
*sierra Edward says: damn
*sierra Edward says: i close the picture fyi
*sierra Edward says: lol
sean :: nekomatta.com says: lol
*sierra Edward says: i don't like stare haha
*sierra Edward says: that stare imply so many things.. i.e. u peed on the bed last night
sean :: nekomatta.com says: LOL
*sierra Edward says: haha
*sierra Edward says: k don't put that on commentary btw
sean :: nekomatta.com says: sooo going up
*sierra Edward says: damn
It doesn't look that scary :(
Bzzz itch
Thursday, April 12, 2007
If there's one insect species on earth I'd hope to see go extinct right about NOW, it would be mosquitoes.
Augh! Those pesky buggers were put on earth as some horrible joke because some evolutionary process (or God :P) thought it'd be a gas to to mutate and keep alive tiny, blood sucking insects that serve to only transmit diseases and cause nasty red spots that ITCH LIKE HELL.
I HATE mosquitoes!!
Hate those blood sucking monstrosities SO bad considering they find the strangest places to bite you (i.e. toes and the bottom side of your sole). All I really want to do now is scratch at the bites until my eyes roll back into my sockets in relief. Grr!
But I'd be stuck with scars :(
Maybe I need to breed a mosquito eater.
If there's one insect species on earth I'd hope to see go extinct right about NOW, it would be mosquitoes.
Augh! Those pesky buggers were put on earth as some horrible joke because some evolutionary process (or God :P) thought it'd be a gas to to mutate and keep alive tiny, blood sucking insects that serve to only transmit diseases and cause nasty red spots that ITCH LIKE HELL.
I HATE mosquitoes!!
Hate those blood sucking monstrosities SO bad considering they find the strangest places to bite you (i.e. toes and the bottom side of your sole). All I really want to do now is scratch at the bites until my eyes roll back into my sockets in relief. Grr!
But I'd be stuck with scars :(
Maybe I need to breed a mosquito eater.
Labels: rant
Instability
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Besides being nearly suffocated to death on a daily basis by my neighbour's overpowering incense... I am currently living in a world of semi deafness that leaves me in a constant state of quirky, whimsical otherworldiness.
It's cute the way perspective get skewed when you listen to yourself behind a layer of liquid membrane that seems to muffle both hearing and thought.
That also leads to craziness... for example, if I really did go deaf, what would be the last thing I'd want to hear?
(to the next person who says anything or anyone and the word "voice" together, I will shank you)
Some people get a stimulating kick out of having stuff in their ears; nothing sexual mind you... be it a little q-tip in the ear or ear drops that causes this giddy adrenaline rush of non-sexual satisfaction... ARE YOU PEOPLE CRAZY :P
There is NOTHING stimulating about having liquid dropped into your ears. NADA. NONE. ZERO.
I am terrified of that crap. I generally clutch at the sides of my sofa, curl into a little ball and start squealing nonsensical verbiage against the doctor who prescribed this inhumane medication as I squeeze my eyes shut trying to negate that impending drop that will hit the insides of my ear like a tsunami against a tiny beach that's barely there.
And sometimes, it feels like that drop went straight past my eardrum and smack into the top portion of my nose. Pseudo drowning via droplet.
I think the first time my mom had to do that, she practically had to hold my head down flat against the couch.
No shens.
As for my neighbours, with the amount of smog literally coming through the walls by my dining table (yes, it only seems to smell here... funny the air is crystal clear a mere ten feet away) I have no idea which miniature forest or already soon-to-be extinct animal population they're burning away to pay homage to their God.
I have half my mind to light a huge aromatherapy burner and siphon the air across and into their house... that or I might just throw the burner across and hope it catches someone on the noggin' and fixes their non-existent sense of smell.
I love my senses. All of 'em. And when my hearing is impaired, the last thing I need is freaking smog coming from what can only be perceived as joss sticks the size of a 500 year old tree being lit and burnt EVERY OTHER NIGHT.
That and the whole ear imbalance thing is quite shifty and annoying.
Besides being nearly suffocated to death on a daily basis by my neighbour's overpowering incense... I am currently living in a world of semi deafness that leaves me in a constant state of quirky, whimsical otherworldiness.
It's cute the way perspective get skewed when you listen to yourself behind a layer of liquid membrane that seems to muffle both hearing and thought.
That also leads to craziness... for example, if I really did go deaf, what would be the last thing I'd want to hear?
(to the next person who says anything or anyone and the word "voice" together, I will shank you)
Some people get a stimulating kick out of having stuff in their ears; nothing sexual mind you... be it a little q-tip in the ear or ear drops that causes this giddy adrenaline rush of non-sexual satisfaction... ARE YOU PEOPLE CRAZY :P
There is NOTHING stimulating about having liquid dropped into your ears. NADA. NONE. ZERO.
I am terrified of that crap. I generally clutch at the sides of my sofa, curl into a little ball and start squealing nonsensical verbiage against the doctor who prescribed this inhumane medication as I squeeze my eyes shut trying to negate that impending drop that will hit the insides of my ear like a tsunami against a tiny beach that's barely there.
And sometimes, it feels like that drop went straight past my eardrum and smack into the top portion of my nose. Pseudo drowning via droplet.
I think the first time my mom had to do that, she practically had to hold my head down flat against the couch.
No shens.
As for my neighbours, with the amount of smog literally coming through the walls by my dining table (yes, it only seems to smell here... funny the air is crystal clear a mere ten feet away) I have no idea which miniature forest or already soon-to-be extinct animal population they're burning away to pay homage to their God.
I have half my mind to light a huge aromatherapy burner and siphon the air across and into their house... that or I might just throw the burner across and hope it catches someone on the noggin' and fixes their non-existent sense of smell.
I love my senses. All of 'em. And when my hearing is impaired, the last thing I need is freaking smog coming from what can only be perceived as joss sticks the size of a 500 year old tree being lit and burnt EVERY OTHER NIGHT.
That and the whole ear imbalance thing is quite shifty and annoying.
Sleep interrupted
Thursday, March 29, 2007
I actually thought of something exciting to rant about early this morning as I was rolling about in bed, half annoyed with the sun and half content with the languor of the residues of my sleep that didn't help my attempt(s) in getting out of bed.
Of course, that was cut short when my cellphone blared... only to be cut off half way because yeah, the battery's retarded. Eyes crusted with shit and all, there was really no way I could tell who called... and my phone, being my phone, has no memory of whoever called.
Brilliant, eh?
So, if you called me at 10-ish this morning, it's not because I hung up on purpose :p I would've called back... but I didn't know who to call >.<
Oh well.
However, I did try to induce the whole inspirational-roll-trying-to-get out-of-bed moment once again this evening as it rained. Getting to sleep was no problem; it's waking up to the sound of a crabby old neighbour screaming in hokkien that totally kills. And by the sound of it, she seemed to be beating a poor child on his/her head to death.
Or she could have been merely tenderizing meat to pulp on her prehistoric chopping board.
Who knows, really?
I actually thought of something exciting to rant about early this morning as I was rolling about in bed, half annoyed with the sun and half content with the languor of the residues of my sleep that didn't help my attempt(s) in getting out of bed.
Of course, that was cut short when my cellphone blared... only to be cut off half way because yeah, the battery's retarded. Eyes crusted with shit and all, there was really no way I could tell who called... and my phone, being my phone, has no memory of whoever called.
Brilliant, eh?
So, if you called me at 10-ish this morning, it's not because I hung up on purpose :p I would've called back... but I didn't know who to call >.<
Oh well.
However, I did try to induce the whole inspirational-roll-trying-to-get out-of-bed moment once again this evening as it rained. Getting to sleep was no problem; it's waking up to the sound of a crabby old neighbour screaming in hokkien that totally kills. And by the sound of it, she seemed to be beating a poor child on his/her head to death.
Or she could have been merely tenderizing meat to pulp on her prehistoric chopping board.
Who knows, really?
Labels: rant
Oh, lately it's so quiet
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
I've decided that despite all my past bitching, ignorance is bliss and I've succumbed to the devil that is the Burning Crusade.
It's been two weeks or so since the WoW addiction has latched onto my will power with gigantic suction cups and have since refused to let go. Even though I may turn purple soon, I'm not 70 yet. Sadly. Levelling is so painfully slow I do believe everyone else's alt is going to beat me to 70.
Doesn't help that you have to level in that shithole called Nagrand (take a guess what level I am! :P). Yeah, awesome. It's the crackwhore version of Stranglethorn; kill thirty of this, kill thirty of that, run all the way south when the quest giver is up north in some decrepit hut, kill thirty more of this blah blah crap bullshit and then you have that agony of a trampoline quest. The dev that came up with the idea (wrote the algorithm, whatever), needs to have his brains examined, fingers hacked off and degree revoked.
Or maybe, which is possibly true, I'm just really bad.
Did I mention the rep grind I have to look forward to when I hit 70?
And I despise Blood Elves. So very, very much.
On another note, what is it with people who've got pride SO HUGE and nasty it ultimately destroys all forms of logic and sanity? For fuck's sake, if you don't know something... just say you don't know. If you made a mistake, just MAN THE FUCK UP and admit it.
It doesn't make you any less of a person just because you don't know something or made a mistake... but when you cover that up with little lies that eventually catch up to you and bite you smack in the ass -HARD-, then it's a whole new ballgame.
I sound like a broken recorder... very reminiscent of the whole e-mistress drama which I believe was madder than the Mad Hatter at his own tea party. But I digress.
Speaking of which, I used to know this guy (past tense usage is recent too!)... and really, don't ask me what's wrong with him because even though I'd love to share, I really don't know what happened to him.
He went from an intellectual, much-liked CAPABLE young man to a UNBELIEVABLY disappointing, irresponsible, disrespectful, dishonest sack of shit.
Maybe he had a lobotomy sometime in the past year or so, who knows? Boggles the mind really, the gaping chasm of irresponsibility he created and hovered in. Then again, maybe it's the pride issue (see statement in the paragraphs above). I'm more inclined to think it was pride... especially when it came to financial issues and the whole "Mom, be proud of me" syndrome.
Look, I understand you don't want to be a disappointment to your mom/parents/relatives/uncles/pet dog but I don't think that gives you a right to fuck the people you're around 24/7 at that point in time over either. Ugh, still can wrap any logic around how as long as you're not a disappointment to your parents, screwing everyone else over is "OK"?
It's not like none of us tried to help. Apparently he was too good for our help.
OH WELL.
Anyway, back to Nagrand to elevate my goat killing status.
I've decided that despite all my past bitching, ignorance is bliss and I've succumbed to the devil that is the Burning Crusade.
It's been two weeks or so since the WoW addiction has latched onto my will power with gigantic suction cups and have since refused to let go. Even though I may turn purple soon, I'm not 70 yet. Sadly. Levelling is so painfully slow I do believe everyone else's alt is going to beat me to 70.
Doesn't help that you have to level in that shithole called Nagrand (take a guess what level I am! :P). Yeah, awesome. It's the crackwhore version of Stranglethorn; kill thirty of this, kill thirty of that, run all the way south when the quest giver is up north in some decrepit hut, kill thirty more of this blah blah crap bullshit and then you have that agony of a trampoline quest. The dev that came up with the idea (wrote the algorithm, whatever), needs to have his brains examined, fingers hacked off and degree revoked.
Or maybe, which is possibly true, I'm just really bad.
Did I mention the rep grind I have to look forward to when I hit 70?
And I despise Blood Elves. So very, very much.
On another note, what is it with people who've got pride SO HUGE and nasty it ultimately destroys all forms of logic and sanity? For fuck's sake, if you don't know something... just say you don't know. If you made a mistake, just MAN THE FUCK UP and admit it.
It doesn't make you any less of a person just because you don't know something or made a mistake... but when you cover that up with little lies that eventually catch up to you and bite you smack in the ass -HARD-, then it's a whole new ballgame.
I sound like a broken recorder... very reminiscent of the whole e-mistress drama which I believe was madder than the Mad Hatter at his own tea party. But I digress.
Speaking of which, I used to know this guy (past tense usage is recent too!)... and really, don't ask me what's wrong with him because even though I'd love to share, I really don't know what happened to him.
He went from an intellectual, much-liked CAPABLE young man to a UNBELIEVABLY disappointing, irresponsible, disrespectful, dishonest sack of shit.
Maybe he had a lobotomy sometime in the past year or so, who knows? Boggles the mind really, the gaping chasm of irresponsibility he created and hovered in. Then again, maybe it's the pride issue (see statement in the paragraphs above). I'm more inclined to think it was pride... especially when it came to financial issues and the whole "Mom, be proud of me" syndrome.
Look, I understand you don't want to be a disappointment to your mom/parents/relatives/uncles/pet dog but I don't think that gives you a right to fuck the people you're around 24/7 at that point in time over either. Ugh, still can wrap any logic around how as long as you're not a disappointment to your parents, screwing everyone else over is "OK"?
It's not like none of us tried to help. Apparently he was too good for our help.
OH WELL.
Anyway, back to Nagrand to elevate my goat killing status.
Reign of the Golden Boar
Monday, February 19, 2007
It's the time of the year where spending money (and I mean an unimaginable, extravagantly careless amount) is not an issue, gorging ourselves silly is the way to go, house hopping (talk, ang paus, talk more... all that fun stuff ;)) isn't bothersome, gambling becomes a happy way to win/lose money and stuffing our faces even more is carried out relentlessly, just because we can. That and it's also the time where we accept door gifts from our neighbours which obviously have been recycled. Yeah, you know who you are... passing around that ONE unholy box of biscuits nobody ever seems to want.
Since my mom doesn't believe in recycling, we usually end up with a few boxes of those legendary biscuits. And they sit there, permanently in my kitchen. Seriously, which asshole started the chain and decided it was a gas to pass their family/friends a revolting metal tin of crumbs that no one really even wants to eat much less keep?
For the love of the pig, buy something you'd actually WANT to eat and THEN pass it on to someone so they'd appreciate it... and hopefully, it won't end up in my kitchen.
Anyway, say oink! It's my year to be prosperous, indulgent and naughty; wrecking havoc with my fellow piggies despite what the feng shui critics have to say :P
Happy Chinese New Year! :)
It's the time of the year where spending money (and I mean an unimaginable, extravagantly careless amount) is not an issue, gorging ourselves silly is the way to go, house hopping (talk, ang paus, talk more... all that fun stuff ;)) isn't bothersome, gambling becomes a happy way to win/lose money and stuffing our faces even more is carried out relentlessly, just because we can. That and it's also the time where we accept door gifts from our neighbours which obviously have been recycled. Yeah, you know who you are... passing around that ONE unholy box of biscuits nobody ever seems to want.
Since my mom doesn't believe in recycling, we usually end up with a few boxes of those legendary biscuits. And they sit there, permanently in my kitchen. Seriously, which asshole started the chain and decided it was a gas to pass their family/friends a revolting metal tin of crumbs that no one really even wants to eat much less keep?
For the love of the pig, buy something you'd actually WANT to eat and THEN pass it on to someone so they'd appreciate it... and hopefully, it won't end up in my kitchen.
Anyway, say oink! It's my year to be prosperous, indulgent and naughty; wrecking havoc with my fellow piggies despite what the feng shui critics have to say :P
Happy Chinese New Year! :)
Labels: rant
Written abuse
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
It's that time (before the time) of the month where I bask in the glory of reckless indulgence... particularly those of the edible nature. Of course, I might and probably will end up whining about it two weeks later after all the guilt and lard have permanently set in.
I've also realized that the quality of my writing pretty much crumples into a heap of rubbish when I attempt to compose my thoughts and deliver them in a proper and legible manner.
That just makes me a god-awful writer.
But still a decent CSS developer... I think ;)
Speaking of which, what is it with people who think they can get away with paying their contractors with literally peanuts? Or the shady ones who keep adding stuff to do thinking it's some God-given right of theirs to step over the boundaries of the initial contract (verbal, written, whatever tickles your trust)? Now, I have some really wonderful clients but sometimes there's that one or two who unleashes the serial killer in you.
For example:
This bloody monkey makes a list of things (X) that I have to fix and agrees to pay me a certain amount (Y). I write him back to clarify and confirm. When he replies, it's (X + Z) fixes. Already a little ticked off, I still email to verify the stuff that needs to be done -again- and he emails me back with an even bigger list (think X + Z + [ Int{1+3*x}, x=A..Z ]). So from 19 fixes to 49 (F-O-U-R-T-Y-N-I-N-E)... and some of them are full-blown pages.
What the hell? It's obvious that you're already an inconsiderate, unreasonable, disrespectful, exploiting asshole but are you stupid as well to blatantly add on (and what a big addition) what was not previously stated and still expect it to be done at the same price?
Getting a "bang for your buck" is one thing but over-exploiting?! Are you sick in the head?
Don't get me wrong but the one, two or three additions are usually no big deal... BUT THIRTY?
Of course, killing him off with invincible psychic powers or frying his ass with sunbeams bounced off a satellite ala James Bond right now would only be, unfortunately, a dream. Instead, I reply with a courteous albeit slightly sarcastic "Wow, that list grows longer every time... sorry, I can't take that project considering your budget isn't proportional to the time/work required."
In reality, my response would be, "You douchebag, this is daylight robbery. You don't want a front end developer, you want a mindless slave from the deepest, poorest nether regions of India. I hope your CSS rots and dies."
Do the world a favor and learn from the other good people in the world: embrace your inner virtues of being considerately reasonable and don't be an asshat.
It's that time (before the time) of the month where I bask in the glory of reckless indulgence... particularly those of the edible nature. Of course, I might and probably will end up whining about it two weeks later after all the guilt and lard have permanently set in.
I've also realized that the quality of my writing pretty much crumples into a heap of rubbish when I attempt to compose my thoughts and deliver them in a proper and legible manner.
That just makes me a god-awful writer.
But still a decent CSS developer... I think ;)
Speaking of which, what is it with people who think they can get away with paying their contractors with literally peanuts? Or the shady ones who keep adding stuff to do thinking it's some God-given right of theirs to step over the boundaries of the initial contract (verbal, written, whatever tickles your trust)? Now, I have some really wonderful clients but sometimes there's that one or two who unleashes the serial killer in you.
For example:
This bloody monkey makes a list of things (X) that I have to fix and agrees to pay me a certain amount (Y). I write him back to clarify and confirm. When he replies, it's (X + Z) fixes. Already a little ticked off, I still email to verify the stuff that needs to be done -again- and he emails me back with an even bigger list (think X + Z + [ Int{1+3*x}, x=A..Z ]). So from 19 fixes to 49 (F-O-U-R-T-Y-N-I-N-E)... and some of them are full-blown pages.
What the hell? It's obvious that you're already an inconsiderate, unreasonable, disrespectful, exploiting asshole but are you stupid as well to blatantly add on (and what a big addition) what was not previously stated and still expect it to be done at the same price?
Getting a "bang for your buck" is one thing but over-exploiting?! Are you sick in the head?
Don't get me wrong but the one, two or three additions are usually no big deal... BUT THIRTY?
Of course, killing him off with invincible psychic powers or frying his ass with sunbeams bounced off a satellite ala James Bond right now would only be, unfortunately, a dream. Instead, I reply with a courteous albeit slightly sarcastic "Wow, that list grows longer every time... sorry, I can't take that project considering your budget isn't proportional to the time/work required."
In reality, my response would be, "You douchebag, this is daylight robbery. You don't want a front end developer, you want a mindless slave from the deepest, poorest nether regions of India. I hope your CSS rots and dies."
Do the world a favor and learn from the other good people in the world: embrace your inner virtues of being considerately reasonable and don't be an asshat.
Curse of the fat fingers
Friday, January 19, 2007
I swear to God, if you've already dialed the wrong number THREE TIMES, step AWAY from the phone and check that the number you're dialing is right... or that your pudgy fingers didn't hit the wrong number as you stupidly fumbled with the keypad in rage.
No, don't wait 15 minutes only to dial THE SAME NUMBER because that person won't be there!
AND stop bellowing and breathing into the phone like a gorilla.
Looking for someone who doesn't jolly well live in this household and screaming "HARLO? POR POR AH?" every fucking time through the mouthpiece doesn't help matters ESPECIALLY when you've dialed the wrong number (mind you, a couple of times already) and the person on the other end happens to be me.
Learn to dial, you cunt.
I am high strung and angsty, more so than usual this weekend because my weekend plans were ruined -_- That an the foreboding probability of having another awkward meeting with a friend.
I mean... well.
I really just want to be friends? O.o
But then again, it's a slight tragedy when you encounter try hards who aren't even the slightest bit charming. I mean the ones who really, REALLY try...
...even though there isn't an inkling of hope despite the shameless hints mercilessly and painfully regurgitated. Especially the ones who make conversations a chore; the back-breaking type.
Now, I don't think of myself as someone who's terribly hard to get along with. I have a shitton of bullshit to talk about and generally, finding common ground isn't that hard (population of normal distribution, best buds with Pareto and then some, thanks).
Look, do you really want to go hang out with someone you can't converse with (unless you're looking for a fuck buddy, then ignore this paragraph)? Or feel like you're struggling for dear life hanging onto a perpetual rubber float too small for both your asses just trying to keep the conversation going? And I'm not even speaking in a different language -_- It's not a conversation, really. It's a monologue.
Not to mention when their compliments backfire and really make it seem like their buttering needs a *little* polishing. It's not smooth and basically the epitome of spreading half churned butter onto toast with a fork.
I'm sorry; I do believe there is a certain amount of sexiness to a man who has the swagger, charm and sensuality to decently converse both in and out of the bedroom.
Sometimes the frequency is just... wrong -_-
And for fuck's sake, stop bleeding calling and flush the damn phone down the toilet bowl already.
I swear to God, if you've already dialed the wrong number THREE TIMES, step AWAY from the phone and check that the number you're dialing is right... or that your pudgy fingers didn't hit the wrong number as you stupidly fumbled with the keypad in rage.
No, don't wait 15 minutes only to dial THE SAME NUMBER because that person won't be there!
AND stop bellowing and breathing into the phone like a gorilla.
Looking for someone who doesn't jolly well live in this household and screaming "HARLO? POR POR AH?" every fucking time through the mouthpiece doesn't help matters ESPECIALLY when you've dialed the wrong number (mind you, a couple of times already) and the person on the other end happens to be me.
Learn to dial, you cunt.
I am high strung and angsty, more so than usual this weekend because my weekend plans were ruined -_- That an the foreboding probability of having another awkward meeting with a friend.
I mean... well.
I really just want to be friends? O.o
But then again, it's a slight tragedy when you encounter try hards who aren't even the slightest bit charming. I mean the ones who really, REALLY try...
...even though there isn't an inkling of hope despite the shameless hints mercilessly and painfully regurgitated. Especially the ones who make conversations a chore; the back-breaking type.
Now, I don't think of myself as someone who's terribly hard to get along with. I have a shitton of bullshit to talk about and generally, finding common ground isn't that hard (population of normal distribution, best buds with Pareto and then some, thanks).
Look, do you really want to go hang out with someone you can't converse with (unless you're looking for a fuck buddy, then ignore this paragraph)? Or feel like you're struggling for dear life hanging onto a perpetual rubber float too small for both your asses just trying to keep the conversation going? And I'm not even speaking in a different language -_- It's not a conversation, really. It's a monologue.
Not to mention when their compliments backfire and really make it seem like their buttering needs a *little* polishing. It's not smooth and basically the epitome of spreading half churned butter onto toast with a fork.
I'm sorry; I do believe there is a certain amount of sexiness to a man who has the swagger, charm and sensuality to decently converse both in and out of the bedroom.
Sometimes the frequency is just... wrong -_-
And for fuck's sake, stop bleeding calling and flush the damn phone down the toilet bowl already.
Labels: rant
Going the distance
Thursday, January 18, 2007
It's hard when your other half lives in some undiscovered corner of the country. I'm not even kidding, but there is no way in hell I would've known that he was even on West Malaysia when he said "I stay in Bandar Botanic..." if he didn't add "it's after Klang..." just before my blank stare sank in.
Not to mention he gives monkey ass directions and can't tell his left from right, eh? ;)
Plus the whole inverse-culture shock he's suffering through. Common symptoms include fun stuff like road rage, loud bellowing, general hate and the compulsory need to suffer from Tourette's syndrome every time the words "Streamyx" and "service" are mentioned together. Welcome to me, 10 months ago!
Don't give me any bullshit saying I'm an ignorant, pompous bitch when I say the general service in Malaysia is shit... because IT IS SHIT. Hypocritical shit too.
Between the hour long telecommutes and interrupted sleepy afternoon naps, I feel like I'm in college and dating again.
I'm about to poke my eyes out.
I'll find something interesting to blog about. Soon.
It's hard when your other half lives in some undiscovered corner of the country. I'm not even kidding, but there is no way in hell I would've known that he was even on West Malaysia when he said "I stay in Bandar Botanic..." if he didn't add "it's after Klang..." just before my blank stare sank in.
Not to mention he gives monkey ass directions and can't tell his left from right, eh? ;)
Plus the whole inverse-culture shock he's suffering through. Common symptoms include fun stuff like road rage, loud bellowing, general hate and the compulsory need to suffer from Tourette's syndrome every time the words "Streamyx" and "service" are mentioned together. Welcome to me, 10 months ago!
Don't give me any bullshit saying I'm an ignorant, pompous bitch when I say the general service in Malaysia is shit... because IT IS SHIT. Hypocritical shit too.
Between the hour long telecommutes and interrupted sleepy afternoon naps, I feel like I'm in college and dating again.
I'm about to poke my eyes out.
I'll find something interesting to blog about. Soon.
To your credit
Friday, December 08, 2006
It's almost impossible to walk around a mall without being harassed by a credit card sales rep lately. That, or the increasing lack of sleep and eyeliner has somewhat transformed my youth (I am in denial, I know) into an appearance of illusionary wealth... you've seen them: the old women totting their Louis Vuitton bags draped in an obnoxious amount of bling. I don't have bling, I don't have Louis Vuitton and I don't want your credit cards.
The month started out pretty rotten.
Starting with last week.
It was a beautiful day, until some bastard at Poppy decided to ruin my night by slipping a Roofie into my drink. Yes, thank GOD my friends were around and yes, I puked all over my hand--eventually. And no, I didn't take drinks from strangers, I know better. See, walking around without your head (i.e. no sight, no sound) trying to get outside in heels with your friends supporting you on one arm and the beer on the other was pretty funky. However, the "hangover" the day after, the miserable after-sensation of puking into three different sinks and toilet bowls was NOT entirely enjoyable.
The gastrointestinal disturbance was bearable... until I had to go to the doctor's (the same doc who probably sighs at how I never learn to watch what I eat, eh)... and miss the wedding dinner.
SCREW YOU ROOFIE DROPPER.
I probably won't be this bitter if that stupid asshat had come up to me and attempted something... and I had accidentally puked all over him before my friends escorted me away.
That and I'm itching to beat him up ala Daniel Craig... if I ever find that coward.
Now I have so much gas, burping -loudly- isn't as hilarious as it used to be anymore.
It's almost impossible to walk around a mall without being harassed by a credit card sales rep lately. That, or the increasing lack of sleep and eyeliner has somewhat transformed my youth (I am in denial, I know) into an appearance of illusionary wealth... you've seen them: the old women totting their Louis Vuitton bags draped in an obnoxious amount of bling. I don't have bling, I don't have Louis Vuitton and I don't want your credit cards.
The month started out pretty rotten.
Starting with last week.
It was a beautiful day, until some bastard at Poppy decided to ruin my night by slipping a Roofie into my drink. Yes, thank GOD my friends were around and yes, I puked all over my hand--eventually. And no, I didn't take drinks from strangers, I know better. See, walking around without your head (i.e. no sight, no sound) trying to get outside in heels with your friends supporting you on one arm and the beer on the other was pretty funky. However, the "hangover" the day after, the miserable after-sensation of puking into three different sinks and toilet bowls was NOT entirely enjoyable.
The gastrointestinal disturbance was bearable... until I had to go to the doctor's (the same doc who probably sighs at how I never learn to watch what I eat, eh)... and miss the wedding dinner.
SCREW YOU ROOFIE DROPPER.
I probably won't be this bitter if that stupid asshat had come up to me and attempted something... and I had accidentally puked all over him before my friends escorted me away.
That and I'm itching to beat him up ala Daniel Craig... if I ever find that coward.
Now I have so much gas, burping -loudly- isn't as hilarious as it used to be anymore.
Spanish 101
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
I can now count from one to ten without killing someone and say "the cheese is yellow" in Spanish. It's amazing.
It's been awhile since I had any but instant noodles in the middle of the night are heavenly. I'm not saying they're healthy but since I'm starving and wall plaster would undoubtedly taste extremely good if I wanted to ruin my teeth, the noodles sure as hell taste wonderful.
I can now count from one to ten without killing someone and say "the cheese is yellow" in Spanish. It's amazing.
It's been awhile since I had any but instant noodles in the middle of the night are heavenly. I'm not saying they're healthy but since I'm starving and wall plaster would undoubtedly taste extremely good if I wanted to ruin my teeth, the noodles sure as hell taste wonderful.
Labels: rant
Dirty pop
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
It's a boring, cool rainy Wednesday and I've got nothing to do (I know, I'm a jobless bum) but to watch Astro. Yes, Astro still works only if it drizzles but don't even think about watching anything when it's actually raining lest you want your TV to blow up in static.
Seriously, Astro is borderline USELESS for when you really NEED it since I can't cuddle in front of the TV with a hot cup of tea when it's pouring outside. What else do you expect me to do when it's raining (option one is not available due to the lack of the "other" bodily presence)? Go outside and play in the acid rain? Thanks.
ANYWAY, I'm flipping through the channels and I end up on Channel V's Double Shot program... what do I see? *gasp* Ant and Dec's video from a few civilization ago (Byker Grove anyone? lol). Immediately, I'm flooded with memories of England and the whole glorious era of boyband fame. To be honest, I associate boy bands with Take That more than any other group... because, yeah well, the dirty secret is out: I was a Take That fangirl :P Not cult obsessive but... yeah *cough*. Together with that, I'm going to admit to having their CDs, getting all teenage postal when they were on BBCKids as well as Ant and Dec's album on cassette tape (yes, cassette) somewhere.
I'm going to pop hell, aren't I?
But any other boyband that came after them can suck it--much to the approval of my then best mate who used to be the biggest Take That fan together with her altar and candles in tribute to Gary Barlow (hi2u Mien :)). It was also through her, I grew out of Take That and smack into Oasis, Blur and Garbage.
And what do you know, the next clip on Channel V was Take That's "Pray".
Pray is the epitome of softcore gay erotica in the early 90s. The amount of abdominal baring, self touching, skin-tight boxers and half naked beach/water scenes that would put both Britney Spears and Paris Hilton to shame made me blush and cringe in pain. Although, I'm sure the video was meant to be fantasy material for the whole female population back then which would inevitably cause them to have hysteric fits, swoon and collapse into a puddle of drool. Then again, I dare say it probably became fantasy (or fap lol) material for some men too.
I wonder if they look back at their videos and ask themselves, "What were we thinking?!"
Though, it was fun while it lasted.
I heard Take That's making a comeback the end of this month (minus Robbie Williams that is) >.>
All I do each time is pray...
It's a boring, cool rainy Wednesday and I've got nothing to do (I know, I'm a jobless bum) but to watch Astro. Yes, Astro still works only if it drizzles but don't even think about watching anything when it's actually raining lest you want your TV to blow up in static.
Seriously, Astro is borderline USELESS for when you really NEED it since I can't cuddle in front of the TV with a hot cup of tea when it's pouring outside. What else do you expect me to do when it's raining (option one is not available due to the lack of the "other" bodily presence)? Go outside and play in the acid rain? Thanks.
ANYWAY, I'm flipping through the channels and I end up on Channel V's Double Shot program... what do I see? *gasp* Ant and Dec's video from a few civilization ago (Byker Grove anyone? lol). Immediately, I'm flooded with memories of England and the whole glorious era of boyband fame. To be honest, I associate boy bands with Take That more than any other group... because, yeah well, the dirty secret is out: I was a Take That fangirl :P Not cult obsessive but... yeah *cough*. Together with that, I'm going to admit to having their CDs, getting all teenage postal when they were on BBCKids as well as Ant and Dec's album on cassette tape (yes, cassette) somewhere.
I'm going to pop hell, aren't I?
But any other boyband that came after them can suck it--much to the approval of my then best mate who used to be the biggest Take That fan together with her altar and candles in tribute to Gary Barlow (hi2u Mien :)). It was also through her, I grew out of Take That and smack into Oasis, Blur and Garbage.
And what do you know, the next clip on Channel V was Take That's "Pray".
Pray is the epitome of softcore gay erotica in the early 90s. The amount of abdominal baring, self touching, skin-tight boxers and half naked beach/water scenes that would put both Britney Spears and Paris Hilton to shame made me blush and cringe in pain. Although, I'm sure the video was meant to be fantasy material for the whole female population back then which would inevitably cause them to have hysteric fits, swoon and collapse into a puddle of drool. Then again, I dare say it probably became fantasy (or fap lol) material for some men too.
I wonder if they look back at their videos and ask themselves, "What were we thinking?!"
Though, it was fun while it lasted.
I heard Take That's making a comeback the end of this month (minus Robbie Williams that is) >.>
All I do each time is pray...
Rub one... uh.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Massages are heavenly and quite possibly the second closest natural way to send you soaring into a euphoric bliss followed by the oh-so-gentle, stolen comfort of slipping away into warm, fuzzy, sleepy satisfaction. If you've never had one, you are missing out.
Of course I'm talking about the wimpy aromatherapy sort... and maybe the foreplay ;) However, the only thing a traditional massage gives me is the extremely realistic sensation of a few broken ribs while it's going on. And then, there's also the complete agonizing, full body experience of getting hit by a Mack truck one limb at a time the next morning as you attempt to get out of bed.
Although, I realize a massage is generally supposed to be relaxing (with all that professional caressing and molesting going on against your back, mmmhmm) but there is a moment when I'm gripped with unexplainably ridiculous ice, cold fear... and that is when my masseuse works her way to the lower bottom of my back, to dangerously close proximity of my ass crack. It is then when the thought of "OhmyGod, does it smell" hits me like a perfectly thrown javelin.
Don't ask me why I get such an absurd notion considering I'm a huge fan of hour long showers and even longer baths (especially before I go out).
I suppose I'm prone to sharing strange and morbidly disgusting "stuff" at random periods of time much to the chagrin of my friends :P Well, that and pee smells funny after a massage session.
In other news, dimples are amazingly cute.
I wish I had them! But since I don't, I had to improvise:
Wannabe dimples.
Ninja edit: people on WoW are stupid quacks. I'm helping a friend grind AV rep and I get an idiotic tell from a 56 NE Priest that goes, "hey, can you me make a crap load of lvl 55 water for a tip?"
I'm busy, do I look like I'm going to waste my time summoning a "crap load" of water for your cheap, unknown, stingy ass? Go tip the vendors and I'm sure they'll give you a "crap load" of water. Instead of ignoring I should've replied, "Only if you reroll dwarf, you terrible NE."
Yeah, I am (or was) a mage and that's the biggest pet peeve ever. Talk about in-game harassment. Die in a roaring fire you filthy water sucking scums.
Massages are heavenly and quite possibly the second closest natural way to send you soaring into a euphoric bliss followed by the oh-so-gentle, stolen comfort of slipping away into warm, fuzzy, sleepy satisfaction. If you've never had one, you are missing out.
Of course I'm talking about the wimpy aromatherapy sort... and maybe the foreplay ;) However, the only thing a traditional massage gives me is the extremely realistic sensation of a few broken ribs while it's going on. And then, there's also the complete agonizing, full body experience of getting hit by a Mack truck one limb at a time the next morning as you attempt to get out of bed.
Although, I realize a massage is generally supposed to be relaxing (with all that professional caressing and molesting going on against your back, mmmhmm) but there is a moment when I'm gripped with unexplainably ridiculous ice, cold fear... and that is when my masseuse works her way to the lower bottom of my back, to dangerously close proximity of my ass crack. It is then when the thought of "OhmyGod, does it smell" hits me like a perfectly thrown javelin.
Don't ask me why I get such an absurd notion considering I'm a huge fan of hour long showers and even longer baths (especially before I go out).
I suppose I'm prone to sharing strange and morbidly disgusting "stuff" at random periods of time much to the chagrin of my friends :P Well, that and pee smells funny after a massage session.
In other news, dimples are amazingly cute.
I wish I had them! But since I don't, I had to improvise:
Wannabe dimples.
Ninja edit: people on WoW are stupid quacks. I'm helping a friend grind AV rep and I get an idiotic tell from a 56 NE Priest that goes, "hey, can you me make a crap load of lvl 55 water for a tip?"
I'm busy, do I look like I'm going to waste my time summoning a "crap load" of water for your cheap, unknown, stingy ass? Go tip the vendors and I'm sure they'll give you a "crap load" of water. Instead of ignoring I should've replied, "Only if you reroll dwarf, you terrible NE."
Yeah, I am (or was) a mage and that's the biggest pet peeve ever. Talk about in-game harassment. Die in a roaring fire you filthy water sucking scums.
Expansion
Monday, October 30, 2006
I'm a geek for even mentioning this but I got invited to the WoW Expansion Beta test two days ago. Now I'm stuck, drifting between the possibilities of giving/selling the key away versus nose diving right back into sweet, sweet sinful digital addiction.
The evil key is still sitting in my mail and I think I'm going to kill myself.
I hate you Blizzard.
I hate you SO much.
I'm a geek for even mentioning this but I got invited to the WoW Expansion Beta test two days ago. Now I'm stuck, drifting between the possibilities of giving/selling the key away versus nose diving right back into sweet, sweet sinful digital addiction.
The evil key is still sitting in my mail and I think I'm going to kill myself.
I hate you Blizzard.
I hate you SO much.
Death Note is (now) my drug
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Besides the passive +gaming as a racial talent to being Asian, I think I'm quickly paving the way to becoming an onna otaku as well. Although, Richard might dispute that I was never ever and never will be good at Broodwar...
I know, how much more non-female can I get? The front-end developing, comic reading, addictive gaming... hell throw in perversion as a bonus because we all know the real girls are innocent, pristine little lambs, right?
However, I doubt I'll be hiking skirts and lounging about with fluorescent hair extensions any time soon... yep, cosplay is where I draw the line!
Alright that was a complete lie.
I love the cat ears :)
And this was taken a few ancient, bleedy (and terribly missed) Halloweens ago:
2003: Naughty things in the bedroom, hmm.
2003 was the year Mike puked Maggi Mee all over my apartment living room and slept in my bathtub (cause Lionel's was too dirty to even step in :P) in the midst of his vomit and the JD fumes evaporating from every pore of his body. The year after that, he borrowed my red bra and wore shorts with his PVC dress because he whined about the air flowing through between his legs. Good times.
In the spirit of Halloween, because God knows we don't celebrate it here in Malaysia, here are a few random Halloween shots from the previous years!
2004: The day before; pumpkins...
2004: and their carvers!
L to R, top to bottom: Pooi Sze, Whey Han, See Yew, Way Sern, Calvin, Lionel, Mike, Yin Ching
2004: Party at Dayton House
2004: Ooooh
2004: Mike and Sean
2005: LOL WoW IRL-Priest (Whey Han), Succy (Pei Poh) and Warlock (Khai Seen)
2005: Annual havoc at State Street
2005: State Street Group picture!
Besides the passive +gaming as a racial talent to being Asian, I think I'm quickly paving the way to becoming an onna otaku as well. Although, Richard might dispute that I was never ever and never will be good at Broodwar...
I know, how much more non-female can I get? The front-end developing, comic reading, addictive gaming... hell throw in perversion as a bonus because we all know the real girls are innocent, pristine little lambs, right?
However, I doubt I'll be hiking skirts and lounging about with fluorescent hair extensions any time soon... yep, cosplay is where I draw the line!
Alright that was a complete lie.
I love the cat ears :)
And this was taken a few ancient, bleedy (and terribly missed) Halloweens ago:
2003: Naughty things in the bedroom, hmm.
2003 was the year Mike puked Maggi Mee all over my apartment living room and slept in my bathtub (cause Lionel's was too dirty to even step in :P) in the midst of his vomit and the JD fumes evaporating from every pore of his body. The year after that, he borrowed my red bra and wore shorts with his PVC dress because he whined about the air flowing through between his legs. Good times.
In the spirit of Halloween, because God knows we don't celebrate it here in Malaysia, here are a few random Halloween shots from the previous years!
2004: The day before; pumpkins...
2004: and their carvers!
L to R, top to bottom: Pooi Sze, Whey Han, See Yew, Way Sern, Calvin, Lionel, Mike, Yin Ching
2004: Party at Dayton House
2004: Ooooh
2004: Mike and Sean
2005: LOL WoW IRL-Priest (Whey Han), Succy (Pei Poh) and Warlock (Khai Seen)
2005: Annual havoc at State Street
2005: State Street Group picture!
Operation: smile!
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Out of sheer boredom and the joyful freebies that come along with purchasing a sexy bottle of moisturizer from Lancome, I got a free makeover. Fun, yes?
Besides the fact that I got transformed into a classy looking prostitute from China, I think what scared me more was the fact that old men (mind you, this was done smack in the middle of 1u) stopped to look while the photographer was busy ordering me about while the photo shoot was going. There is nothing more flattering than trying to suck your gut in while striking a pose resembling something out of an Ultraman cartoon and watching a small audience gather round.
Once that was out of the way with, the photographer sat me down to choose one picture his assistant would delicately airbrush and transform me into absolutely nothing I look like in real life. So here is the picture I chose for him to airbrush, before and after:
Before the airbrushing.
Just a note since I've seen the pictures side by side, I look positively ancient in the first picture by comparison.
After the airbrushing.
Don't you just love Photoshop?
To top things off, as we were picking through the pictures, the photographer said in serious undertones that if he did the picking he would've chosen a more complicated (read: flamboyant poses that put the Power Rangers to shame) picture and it would look AWESOME after it's been "touched up".
I was particularly disturbed as I bit down on my lip in distaste at his comment. Do I really want a picture that looks nothing like myself? Honestly. That or he's insinuating I'm butt ugly...
Also, he mentioned that I had nice teeth and I should "do" toothpaste ads. Curiously tickled because I really don't know who actually has a modeling contract JUST for their teeth alone, I Googled a local modeling agency and sent them this email:
I'm not actually banking on a response of some sort seeing as I'd personally think whoever wrote that had a few too many to drink... but then again, I might respond just to humor him/her.
Regardless, I'll give them a week and see if I get a reply. Stay tuned! ;)
Out of sheer boredom and the joyful freebies that come along with purchasing a sexy bottle of moisturizer from Lancome, I got a free makeover. Fun, yes?
Besides the fact that I got transformed into a classy looking prostitute from China, I think what scared me more was the fact that old men (mind you, this was done smack in the middle of 1u) stopped to look while the photographer was busy ordering me about while the photo shoot was going. There is nothing more flattering than trying to suck your gut in while striking a pose resembling something out of an Ultraman cartoon and watching a small audience gather round.
Once that was out of the way with, the photographer sat me down to choose one picture his assistant would delicately airbrush and transform me into absolutely nothing I look like in real life. So here is the picture I chose for him to airbrush, before and after:
Before the airbrushing.
Just a note since I've seen the pictures side by side, I look positively ancient in the first picture by comparison.
After the airbrushing.
Don't you just love Photoshop?
To top things off, as we were picking through the pictures, the photographer said in serious undertones that if he did the picking he would've chosen a more complicated (read: flamboyant poses that put the Power Rangers to shame) picture and it would look AWESOME after it's been "touched up".
I was particularly disturbed as I bit down on my lip in distaste at his comment. Do I really want a picture that looks nothing like myself? Honestly. That or he's insinuating I'm butt ugly...
Also, he mentioned that I had nice teeth and I should "do" toothpaste ads. Curiously tickled because I really don't know who actually has a modeling contract JUST for their teeth alone, I Googled a local modeling agency and sent them this email:
Hello!
I'm writing this email out of curiosity to find out if you have people modeling teeth for you, for well, toothpaste ads as an example. And also the question as to how one becomes a teeth model? Right, I know it sounds extremely weird but I just got told I should do toothpaste commercials by some photographer so I thought it would be harmless to just email and ask. Would be great if I heard back from you!
Have a lovely night :)
Cheers,
Sean :)
I'm not actually banking on a response of some sort seeing as I'd personally think whoever wrote that had a few too many to drink... but then again, I might respond just to humor him/her.
Regardless, I'll give them a week and see if I get a reply. Stay tuned! ;)
Supermassive black hole
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Either there's a tumor exploding in my head or I really, really need to get away from the computer. That or it could be I just need a higher dosage of paracetemol to stop the pain in my head which uncannily feels like a blunt object pounding against my skull at a non too gentle pressure.
Yep, doesn't get any better... exploding brains and toxic air.
Besides the generic drug, my mom prescribed a chinese not-so-herbal remedy which consists of a gallon of barley water (with ginko and foo chuk). Foo chuk is... according to Boy (and the other lovely people who populate my MSN list <3), "some bean like soya bean i think... u process it then it dries into sheets, then its foo chuk lo."
Here's a small picture what my dessert looks like:
Taken in a dark kitchen because I can't be pissed to turn on the lights.
Usually, there would be more water to it but I already mentioned I had guzzled that all up. That and pretty much all the foo chuk has been broken to bits.
Now I just have to wait for all that to digest. WTB Nyquil for a quicker remedy and free hallucinatory trip to a parallel dimension.
Either there's a tumor exploding in my head or I really, really need to get away from the computer. That or it could be I just need a higher dosage of paracetemol to stop the pain in my head which uncannily feels like a blunt object pounding against my skull at a non too gentle pressure.
Yep, doesn't get any better... exploding brains and toxic air.
Besides the generic drug, my mom prescribed a chinese not-so-herbal remedy which consists of a gallon of barley water (with ginko and foo chuk). Foo chuk is... according to Boy (and the other lovely people who populate my MSN list <3), "some bean like soya bean i think... u process it then it dries into sheets, then its foo chuk lo."
Here's a small picture what my dessert looks like:
Taken in a dark kitchen because I can't be pissed to turn on the lights.
Usually, there would be more water to it but I already mentioned I had guzzled that all up. That and pretty much all the foo chuk has been broken to bits.
Now I just have to wait for all that to digest. WTB Nyquil for a quicker remedy and free hallucinatory trip to a parallel dimension.
Labels: rant
Cry me a river
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Currently, staying in the Klang Valley is the equivalent of a having a perpetual exhaust pipe shoved up your nostrils. On the up side, it's got a nice misty effect... except, it's not mist but dust you're breathing in that's killing you softly. Very soon, we'll all be trekking around our parks with gas masks on to keep us nice and healthy while we're exercising in a dust bowl.
In other news, I woke up this morning to the chitter chatter of my relatives, all huddled around my lappie and surfing the internet... on IE6. I spluttered and whimpered in my corner trying to explain why they should click on that spanking red icon called Firefox instead as silver dots danced across my vision.
I would take it off my bar, but unfortunately I still have to test stuff on IE6 and henceforth, there it will stay until a mass IE6 annihilation happens. I had previously told my dad not to use IE6 EVER on my PC... and even installed Firefox on his lappie. Needless to say, he now uses Firefox. Of course, I did mention IE6 has the potential to allow obscene amounts of spyware/virus into his computer that will eventually ruin his training program materials... ;)
And now, I'm sitting amidst my relatives... in the middle of an exciting conversation about household goods spoken in English, Cantonese and Hokkien all at once. It's amazing how I can understand them but will probably never ever speak as fluently as they can as they swiftly transition between dialects and topics of interest.
I know where my ADD comes from.
Currently, staying in the Klang Valley is the equivalent of a having a perpetual exhaust pipe shoved up your nostrils. On the up side, it's got a nice misty effect... except, it's not mist but dust you're breathing in that's killing you softly. Very soon, we'll all be trekking around our parks with gas masks on to keep us nice and healthy while we're exercising in a dust bowl.
In other news, I woke up this morning to the chitter chatter of my relatives, all huddled around my lappie and surfing the internet... on IE6. I spluttered and whimpered in my corner trying to explain why they should click on that spanking red icon called Firefox instead as silver dots danced across my vision.
I would take it off my bar, but unfortunately I still have to test stuff on IE6 and henceforth, there it will stay until a mass IE6 annihilation happens. I had previously told my dad not to use IE6 EVER on my PC... and even installed Firefox on his lappie. Needless to say, he now uses Firefox. Of course, I did mention IE6 has the potential to allow obscene amounts of spyware/virus into his computer that will eventually ruin his training program materials... ;)
And now, I'm sitting amidst my relatives... in the middle of an exciting conversation about household goods spoken in English, Cantonese and Hokkien all at once. It's amazing how I can understand them but will probably never ever speak as fluently as they can as they swiftly transition between dialects and topics of interest.
I know where my ADD comes from.
Wishful thinking
Friday, October 13, 2006
I spent three hours trying to connect to the poor excuse for an internet connection we have in Malaysia this morning. Not only that, in that same three hours, my cellphone nearly died auto redialing to TMNet's customer support line without any inkling of success. The big question now: when Streamyx croaks, do their phone support line(s) automatically shut down as well?
I'd understand that they probably don't want disgruntled/frustrated/annoyed users screaming at them way early in the morning at eight-ish or nine, telling them how horrible their service is. See, that wouldn't happen if they provided decent service to begin with. In essence, TMNet is a monopolizing whore of an entity that doesn't deliver and hides behind automated (well, considering they all can't seem to answer in any form otherwise... they might as well be tape recordings) customer support. And that is ONLY when you actually get through (only to be put on hold for another hair-pulling twenty minutes or so).
For THE LOVE OF GOD (yours, mine and especially yours) people, feed the hamsters that are powering our server generators. I'm sure with the obscene amount of money TMNet's unjustly collecting, the hamsters really shouldn't go hungry. Unless, there are only three of them running the wheels, one for each server... yeah.
On a side note, I'm downloading "I Like The Boys" by the Pleasure Seekers. It's nothing unexpected but I'm still tickled by the irrelevant amount of porn you get instead of the actual song itself.
I spent three hours trying to connect to the poor excuse for an internet connection we have in Malaysia this morning. Not only that, in that same three hours, my cellphone nearly died auto redialing to TMNet's customer support line without any inkling of success. The big question now: when Streamyx croaks, do their phone support line(s) automatically shut down as well?
I'd understand that they probably don't want disgruntled/frustrated/annoyed users screaming at them way early in the morning at eight-ish or nine, telling them how horrible their service is. See, that wouldn't happen if they provided decent service to begin with. In essence, TMNet is a monopolizing whore of an entity that doesn't deliver and hides behind automated (well, considering they all can't seem to answer in any form otherwise... they might as well be tape recordings) customer support. And that is ONLY when you actually get through (only to be put on hold for another hair-pulling twenty minutes or so).
For THE LOVE OF GOD (yours, mine and especially yours) people, feed the hamsters that are powering our server generators. I'm sure with the obscene amount of money TMNet's unjustly collecting, the hamsters really shouldn't go hungry. Unless, there are only three of them running the wheels, one for each server... yeah.
On a side note, I'm downloading "I Like The Boys" by the Pleasure Seekers. It's nothing unexpected but I'm still tickled by the irrelevant amount of porn you get instead of the actual song itself.
Scathing mornings
Thursday, October 12, 2006
The day IE6 gets permanently abolished will be the day the fists of developers pound the sky in unrivaled states of exuberance. Sadly, deflate those chests and cool that battle cry for we can only dream and that time has not yet arrived...
maybe check back with me in five to six years on that.
Besides that, did I ever mention the green tea powder Genki Sushi (GS) sells tastes more like mushed seaweed (a tie between raw and plastic-esque texture) with a dash of burnt leaves than actual tea? Strangely enough, the green tea they have at GS itself tastes (thankfully) like ACTUAL green tea.
The story goes:
Being the extremely impatient ass I am, it had occurred to me one fine day that I should just ask the people in GS where they get their green tea powder from instead of having to steep the leaves and essentially wait for my tea, only to be able to drink it when it cools to room temperature. I had previously imported green tea powder from Japan while I was in Madison (green tea was scarce in Madison). Since I can't be bothered to wait for the two week shipping, I decided to hunt for it in Malaysia instead.
You'd think in a place like Malaysia, where people literally live to eat, a small container of sen-cha green tea powder wouldn't be hard to come by. Wrong.
Out of ideas, I had suddenly remembered that GS uses green tea powder instead of satchels (and of course, you make the tea yourself). Coincidentally, that one day I decided to ask if they sold their green tea powder was the first time I've seen neatly arranged green tea powder packs by the payment counter being sold for RM10/pack (that's about $3).
Such good fortune, yes?
I proceed to ask the store manager what type of tea it is and he replies he has no idea only that it was imported from Japan. It struck me as peculiar at first because it was extremely cheap... but hey, they probably import the stuff by the kgs and get a bulk discount.
So much for that.
Can I say first rotten intuitions are mostly correct because it tastes NOTHING like the tea you have at GS itself. It's rubbish and even smells like burnt leaves. Hell, even the color looks strangely polluted ala the fluorescent toxic rivers in your average Captain Planet episode.
I am just going to stick with importing from Japan for now. At least my tongue won't fall off nor will I be overwhelmed with a nauseous sensation while I attempt to drink tea that tastes like burnt leaves and industrial plastic.
Meanwhile, there's always the tea leaves.
The day IE6 gets permanently abolished will be the day the fists of developers pound the sky in unrivaled states of exuberance. Sadly, deflate those chests and cool that battle cry for we can only dream and that time has not yet arrived...
maybe check back with me in five to six years on that.
Besides that, did I ever mention the green tea powder Genki Sushi (GS) sells tastes more like mushed seaweed (a tie between raw and plastic-esque texture) with a dash of burnt leaves than actual tea? Strangely enough, the green tea they have at GS itself tastes (thankfully) like ACTUAL green tea.
The story goes:
Being the extremely impatient ass I am, it had occurred to me one fine day that I should just ask the people in GS where they get their green tea powder from instead of having to steep the leaves and essentially wait for my tea, only to be able to drink it when it cools to room temperature. I had previously imported green tea powder from Japan while I was in Madison (green tea was scarce in Madison). Since I can't be bothered to wait for the two week shipping, I decided to hunt for it in Malaysia instead.
You'd think in a place like Malaysia, where people literally live to eat, a small container of sen-cha green tea powder wouldn't be hard to come by. Wrong.
Out of ideas, I had suddenly remembered that GS uses green tea powder instead of satchels (and of course, you make the tea yourself). Coincidentally, that one day I decided to ask if they sold their green tea powder was the first time I've seen neatly arranged green tea powder packs by the payment counter being sold for RM10/pack (that's about $3).
Such good fortune, yes?
I proceed to ask the store manager what type of tea it is and he replies he has no idea only that it was imported from Japan. It struck me as peculiar at first because it was extremely cheap... but hey, they probably import the stuff by the kgs and get a bulk discount.
So much for that.
Can I say first rotten intuitions are mostly correct because it tastes NOTHING like the tea you have at GS itself. It's rubbish and even smells like burnt leaves. Hell, even the color looks strangely polluted ala the fluorescent toxic rivers in your average Captain Planet episode.
I am just going to stick with importing from Japan for now. At least my tongue won't fall off nor will I be overwhelmed with a nauseous sensation while I attempt to drink tea that tastes like burnt leaves and industrial plastic.
Meanwhile, there's always the tea leaves.
tainted
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Malaysia's all-time favored terrible design practices:
Having every bloody link open in a new window. WHY? Why, for the love of humanity do you do that?
Are you too lazy to make a decent index page link back? How practical is it to have every link on your page open a new window? Especially if it's to another page on your site? It's understandable if you've got stuff to print that would be great on a new page which you can just close after printing, but having everything on your main navigation bar open in a new window?
You're not designing your site for yourself. It's for your audience and their convenience.
Designing only for Internet Explorer. In the words of Mark, using IE is like taking it up the ass dry and unprotected. Your site in on the WORLD WIDE WEB. Does it say Malaysian Wide Web? No. So until Malaysia gets its own server/network/mad house to cater to a strictly IE-only audience, please try to think of the other people who MIGHT want to visit your site who don't use IE and god forbid, have Macs.
L2Design for usability.
Just today, I found another atrocity that is forever immortalized on the web: a whole BLINKING left navigation column. Mind you, the column isn't even small. My eyes dried out and rolled out of its sockets trying to read anything.
Malaysia's all-time favored terrible design practices:
Having every bloody link open in a new window. WHY? Why, for the love of humanity do you do that?
Are you too lazy to make a decent index page link back? How practical is it to have every link on your page open a new window? Especially if it's to another page on your site? It's understandable if you've got stuff to print that would be great on a new page which you can just close after printing, but having everything on your main navigation bar open in a new window?
You're not designing your site for yourself. It's for your audience and their convenience.
Designing only for Internet Explorer. In the words of Mark, using IE is like taking it up the ass dry and unprotected. Your site in on the WORLD WIDE WEB. Does it say Malaysian Wide Web? No. So until Malaysia gets its own server/network/mad house to cater to a strictly IE-only audience, please try to think of the other people who MIGHT want to visit your site who don't use IE and god forbid, have Macs.
L2Design for usability.
Just today, I found another atrocity that is forever immortalized on the web: a whole BLINKING left navigation column. Mind you, the column isn't even small. My eyes dried out and rolled out of its sockets trying to read anything.
scandalous
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Trivia time!
(I know, I disappear for a substantial amount of time and come back with stupid openings)
Did you know...
that our very own country, yes Malaysia (Islamic with all the taboos stamped into the concrete floors that pave the country), has its very own porn blog site?
Ok, I'm probably way in the prehistorics (i.e. it is possible the Chinese Malaysian community has launched its fair share of eye-gouging naughtiness) but being directed this Malay porn blog was a slap to the forehead with the additional head shake and omg-the-shame sigh.
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for porn, kink and everything that's naughty.
However, my internet squealed and came to a grinding halt in protest trying to load the first page of this blog. Plus, I think I lost my lunch after seeing picture #2.
Seriously, it's one thing to be cheekily promiscuous, completely another to be horribly ugly with bad camera angles. The way I see it, people who look at porn see it as a source to rub one out (eventually) and/or an appetizer to hot and heavy sex. There are probably many other reasons (feel free to email me with your own! ;)) but the main thing here is the arousal.
Seeing that Malay girl suck the tip of that man's cock made me feel immoral and dirty. In short: borderline sensation between running to the nearest bathroom to puke and moving out of the country.
Which is quite disturbing.
Nobody would ever want to be "pornstars".
I was told that there were actually sexier posts... but I declined as I was not about to spend my time wading through ten pages of tiny cocks and horrible bodies to find one decent picture. It's the sad shallow truth: if you're going to make your porn live on the internet, please don't launch your career if you don't even have a decent face, set of breasts and/or a nice ass your audience can look at.
Again, it might be a fetish . But for fuck's sake.
If you're wondering, no I am not going to publish the link here. Even if I'm going to peddle porn, it's got to be of decent quality. This terrible archive fails. Badly.
If you're curious enough to the point that it will simply kill you if you didn't get to see the site, feel free to shoot me an email or beep me on MSN.
Excuse me, I need to go scrub my eyes with soap now.
Trivia time!
(I know, I disappear for a substantial amount of time and come back with stupid openings)
Did you know...
that our very own country, yes Malaysia (Islamic with all the taboos stamped into the concrete floors that pave the country), has its very own porn blog site?
Ok, I'm probably way in the prehistorics (i.e. it is possible the Chinese Malaysian community has launched its fair share of eye-gouging naughtiness) but being directed this Malay porn blog was a slap to the forehead with the additional head shake and omg-the-shame sigh.
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for porn, kink and everything that's naughty.
However, my internet squealed and came to a grinding halt in protest trying to load the first page of this blog. Plus, I think I lost my lunch after seeing picture #2.
Seriously, it's one thing to be cheekily promiscuous, completely another to be horribly ugly with bad camera angles. The way I see it, people who look at porn see it as a source to rub one out (eventually) and/or an appetizer to hot and heavy sex. There are probably many other reasons (feel free to email me with your own! ;)) but the main thing here is the arousal.
Seeing that Malay girl suck the tip of that man's cock made me feel immoral and dirty. In short: borderline sensation between running to the nearest bathroom to puke and moving out of the country.
Which is quite disturbing.
Nobody would ever want to be "pornstars".
I was told that there were actually sexier posts... but I declined as I was not about to spend my time wading through ten pages of tiny cocks and horrible bodies to find one decent picture. It's the sad shallow truth: if you're going to make your porn live on the internet, please don't launch your career if you don't even have a decent face, set of breasts and/or a nice ass your audience can look at.
Again, it might be a fetish . But for fuck's sake.
If you're wondering, no I am not going to publish the link here. Even if I'm going to peddle porn, it's got to be of decent quality. This terrible archive fails. Badly.
If you're curious enough to the point that it will simply kill you if you didn't get to see the site, feel free to shoot me an email or beep me on MSN.
Excuse me, I need to go scrub my eyes with soap now.
unapologetic
Thursday, August 17, 2006
I love Malaysia, but I hate a minute fraction of the people in the service industry who have absolutely no sense of customer service.
To start things off: my dad's site domain expired, email server went crashing down, dad saw red and I took the flak. It's all good.
So in I go diving through emails, looking for the domain reseller and a little surprised that I didn't get a prior warning that the site domain was about to expire. From the previous host's long, lengthy email of information, I got hold of the reseller and hastily emailed them in hopes that the problem would be fixed as soon as possible if not immediately.
I get a speedy reply that says, "Our records show that we have (insert previous hosting company, abbreviated: PHC)'s PersonA on file. Kindly contact PersonA from PHC to renew this domain."
What the fuck.
See, PHC had said everything was transferred over but apparently, they had only transferred the hosting and completely forgot about the domain name; basically who the reseller had on file.
Me being me, I sent an angry email to the reseller asking if it's possible to migrate ownership because I have no intentions of dealing with PHC ever again so long as I am capable of breathing. Reseller says I have to inform PHC. WELL. Technically, everything should've been transferred. I email a nasty (as nasty as text carries tone) letter to PHC, with a carbon copy to the reseller stating that I no longer want to deal with them and it would be fantastic if PHC would forward all invoicing materials to the reseller so everything is actually under my dad's company's name AS AGREED BEFORE.
I know, if only on-screen text could fly and stab you right in the eyes. If only.
To my astonishment, this little prick of a rep from PHC had the cheek to write me back saying, "Please pay attention that the billing and administrative information has now been changed your own details. This means all emails and billing reminders for your domain will be sent to you so you can renew the domain by your own." Of course, this message was originally written in broken grammar and I just needed to tidy up because not every person understands Malaysian English.
Number one. Don't be an asshat. I have the same information and even though the administrative contact is to the company, the BILLING/Invoicing is still to the reseller. And we all know, from the third paragraph that the reseller has PHC on record. Therefore, I don't get the privy of getting any golden reminders that the domain is about to croak.
Number two. Don't be sarcastic with me when you know somewhere along the way, you messed up too. I can be an equally sarcastic bitch.
Number three. I do not like that man, nor do I like PHC. Why? Because, while revamping dad's site, I looked through their PHP (that sends participant registration details to the company's email) wanting to add new fields but instead, found that PHC included their OWN EMAIL alongside the company's.
To the people at PHC: was there some fine print that said you could collect your client's client's information while you had initially built that poor excuse for a website (which has now been retired, thank the heavens)? And... isn't that illegal? Shady too. And completely non-ethical. Shame on you!
PHC, rot in hell for giving the industry a bad name.
And I'd recommend sending your employees for training to comprehend what it means to be curteous and ethical.
I love Malaysia, but I hate a minute fraction of the people in the service industry who have absolutely no sense of customer service.
To start things off: my dad's site domain expired, email server went crashing down, dad saw red and I took the flak. It's all good.
So in I go diving through emails, looking for the domain reseller and a little surprised that I didn't get a prior warning that the site domain was about to expire. From the previous host's long, lengthy email of information, I got hold of the reseller and hastily emailed them in hopes that the problem would be fixed as soon as possible if not immediately.
I get a speedy reply that says, "Our records show that we have (insert previous hosting company, abbreviated: PHC)'s PersonA on file. Kindly contact PersonA from PHC to renew this domain."
What the fuck.
See, PHC had said everything was transferred over but apparently, they had only transferred the hosting and completely forgot about the domain name; basically who the reseller had on file.
Me being me, I sent an angry email to the reseller asking if it's possible to migrate ownership because I have no intentions of dealing with PHC ever again so long as I am capable of breathing. Reseller says I have to inform PHC. WELL. Technically, everything should've been transferred. I email a nasty (as nasty as text carries tone) letter to PHC, with a carbon copy to the reseller stating that I no longer want to deal with them and it would be fantastic if PHC would forward all invoicing materials to the reseller so everything is actually under my dad's company's name AS AGREED BEFORE.
I know, if only on-screen text could fly and stab you right in the eyes. If only.
To my astonishment, this little prick of a rep from PHC had the cheek to write me back saying, "Please pay attention that the billing and administrative information has now been changed your own details. This means all emails and billing reminders for your domain will be sent to you so you can renew the domain by your own." Of course, this message was originally written in broken grammar and I just needed to tidy up because not every person understands Malaysian English.
Number one. Don't be an asshat. I have the same information and even though the administrative contact is to the company, the BILLING/Invoicing is still to the reseller. And we all know, from the third paragraph that the reseller has PHC on record. Therefore, I don't get the privy of getting any golden reminders that the domain is about to croak.
Number two. Don't be sarcastic with me when you know somewhere along the way, you messed up too. I can be an equally sarcastic bitch.
Number three. I do not like that man, nor do I like PHC. Why? Because, while revamping dad's site, I looked through their PHP (that sends participant registration details to the company's email) wanting to add new fields but instead, found that PHC included their OWN EMAIL alongside the company's.
To the people at PHC: was there some fine print that said you could collect your client's client's information while you had initially built that poor excuse for a website (which has now been retired, thank the heavens)? And... isn't that illegal? Shady too. And completely non-ethical. Shame on you!
PHC, rot in hell for giving the industry a bad name.
And I'd recommend sending your employees for training to comprehend what it means to be curteous and ethical.
the sound of noise
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
I think I might be going crazy.
For starters, my hearing has been off the sensitivity charts. At one point in time, I thought I was going deaf... now, every damn thing is too loud and it annoys the bleeding life out of me. Especially the television. It's so loud I can hardly hear myself think and the noise (hello CNN and the daily bombings) displaces any sense of normalness.
Turn it off you say?
My dad is watching it; catching up with the latest political gossip and seemingly permanent war zone in the middle east. Congratulations to power, ego and modern technology which will be the inevitable, self-inflicted masochistic apocalyptic cause of the end of the world.
With every building/town that gets blown into bits, I'm sure there's a contractor out there who orgasms thinking about the money his company will make bidding for reconstruction projects.
But I digress. Either my dad is turning deaf, or my ear drums are about to vibrate and disappear into oblivion.
That is why, night time is mysteriously splendid. Splendid in every form of sense... even though I can hear the creaky sound of my neighbor's room doors opening and closing.
And here I thought, the walls of my apartment in Madison were paper thin. Obviously the developers of this house used hollow bricks and nano thin cement layers as walls. Don't get me started on the paint that's actually really just half powder.
On a side note, the "h" key on my lappie is buggered. It just falls off even though I've repositioned it into the grooves. Strange, but I half expected my w, a, s and d keys to be the first few to kick the bucket from all the WoW abuse it has received.
I think I might be going crazy.
For starters, my hearing has been off the sensitivity charts. At one point in time, I thought I was going deaf... now, every damn thing is too loud and it annoys the bleeding life out of me. Especially the television. It's so loud I can hardly hear myself think and the noise (hello CNN and the daily bombings) displaces any sense of normalness.
Turn it off you say?
My dad is watching it; catching up with the latest political gossip and seemingly permanent war zone in the middle east. Congratulations to power, ego and modern technology which will be the inevitable, self-inflicted masochistic apocalyptic cause of the end of the world.
With every building/town that gets blown into bits, I'm sure there's a contractor out there who orgasms thinking about the money his company will make bidding for reconstruction projects.
But I digress. Either my dad is turning deaf, or my ear drums are about to vibrate and disappear into oblivion.
That is why, night time is mysteriously splendid. Splendid in every form of sense... even though I can hear the creaky sound of my neighbor's room doors opening and closing.
And here I thought, the walls of my apartment in Madison were paper thin. Obviously the developers of this house used hollow bricks and nano thin cement layers as walls. Don't get me started on the paint that's actually really just half powder.
On a side note, the "h" key on my lappie is buggered. It just falls off even though I've repositioned it into the grooves. Strange, but I half expected my w, a, s and d keys to be the first few to kick the bucket from all the WoW abuse it has received.
Labels: rant
google me sex
Sunday, August 06, 2006
So much for Ad"Sense". Today's ad: Church Shoes at Herring's.
Right O.o
And for the longest time, it was an ad for some Japanese soba recipe.
One of the terms for AdSense is that your site should not have any pornography on it. Which, if you think about it, is rather silly economically speaking. Does this mean porn sites can't use AdSense to promote their sites (unless there's a special clause or fine print I missed out some place)?
It would be strange if you had a smut blog and the ads you're getting off your keywords aren't the least bit sexy at all and kills any inkling of a budding arousal. At most, you'd want to slap your head against the nearest hard surface at the complete lack of relevance.
But then again, sex really sells itself.
So much for Ad"Sense". Today's ad: Church Shoes at Herring's.
Right O.o
And for the longest time, it was an ad for some Japanese soba recipe.
One of the terms for AdSense is that your site should not have any pornography on it. Which, if you think about it, is rather silly economically speaking. Does this mean porn sites can't use AdSense to promote their sites (unless there's a special clause or fine print I missed out some place)?
It would be strange if you had a smut blog and the ads you're getting off your keywords aren't the least bit sexy at all and kills any inkling of a budding arousal. At most, you'd want to slap your head against the nearest hard surface at the complete lack of relevance.
But then again, sex really sells itself.
Labels: rant
tell me what you don't like about yourself
Thursday, August 03, 2006
The good: Astro's showing Nip/tuck. Hello Dr. Christian-hottie-Troy and sex pot Kimber.
The bad: Astro is three seasons late. This just means that I might have to look for other ways to get my paws on season four as the episodes air without having Mo blow the whole episode (or season) away for me.
The extremely ugly: Nip/tuck meet Malaysia. Nip/tuck meet censorship more harsh than a blunt, rusty rod up the out hole.
The good: Astro's showing Nip/tuck. Hello Dr. Christian-hottie-Troy and sex pot Kimber.
The bad: Astro is three seasons late. This just means that I might have to look for other ways to get my paws on season four as the episodes air without having Mo blow the whole episode (or season) away for me.
The extremely ugly: Nip/tuck meet Malaysia. Nip/tuck meet censorship more harsh than a blunt, rusty rod up the out hole.
Labels: rant
and until, finally...
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Twenty-three! :)
Not really, mom mentioned I was born sometime in the evening.
Did I mention that CSS Opacity inherits (on a related note, EFFYOU inherits, DIAF) are almost as fun to meddle with as juggling semi-solid stinky balls of dung? No? Well, now you know.
Another year, another flower of bitterness :p
That is all.
Twenty-three! :)
Not really, mom mentioned I was born sometime in the evening.
Did I mention that CSS Opacity inherits (on a related note, EFFYOU inherits, DIAF) are almost as fun to meddle with as juggling semi-solid stinky balls of dung? No? Well, now you know.
Another year, another flower of bitterness :p
That is all.
sold to the devil
Friday, July 21, 2006
Some would argue that World of Warcraft (WoW) is a more than "just a game" and besides the addiction of bashing other pixels into a distorted heap of unrecognized origins, it breathes, lives and integrates human emotions with smashing modern day technology into a bizarrely real dynamic society.
I personally disagree.
WoW is not a "feeling".
WoW is a fucking drug.
It's so addictive that freedom of choice is a mere illusion deeply harbored by those who desire to break free. At the moment, if you ask me what WoW is, I'd say it's the five lines of coke you snort every hour from the minute you log on.
Before you know it, even though you've just had your "fix" an hour ago, another 800cc of WoW please. Straight into that plump, pulsing vein in the side of my head.
Talk about a perpetual needle in your neck.
In short, I started playing again the two whole days my account was active -_-
I'm in a state of disconcerting bemusement as to whether to admit that it was somewhat satisfying setting other pixels on fire or to transfer my copy of WoW into a DVD so that I can physically break, shatter and microwave that thing into oblivion.
I might just need gaming therapy.
Some would argue that World of Warcraft (WoW) is a more than "just a game" and besides the addiction of bashing other pixels into a distorted heap of unrecognized origins, it breathes, lives and integrates human emotions with smashing modern day technology into a bizarrely real dynamic society.
I personally disagree.
WoW is not a "feeling".
WoW is a fucking drug.
It's so addictive that freedom of choice is a mere illusion deeply harbored by those who desire to break free. At the moment, if you ask me what WoW is, I'd say it's the five lines of coke you snort every hour from the minute you log on.
Before you know it, even though you've just had your "fix" an hour ago, another 800cc of WoW please. Straight into that plump, pulsing vein in the side of my head.
Talk about a perpetual needle in your neck.
In short, I started playing again the two whole days my account was active -_-
I'm in a state of disconcerting bemusement as to whether to admit that it was somewhat satisfying setting other pixels on fire or to transfer my copy of WoW into a DVD so that I can physically break, shatter and microwave that thing into oblivion.
I might just need gaming therapy.
monkey business
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
I didn't give it much thought when the burning ember end of the cigarette met the side of my arm. I turned to activate my evil eye and piercing glare only to get a half-hearted apology. Then again, it's not to say I was expecting an apology at all. Although, if he didn't even mutter his poor excuse for an apology, I must say that would've given me a good reason to take his cigarette, extinguish it in his drink and saunter away... after I tell the girl he's picking up he secretly loves wearing garter belts and fishnet stockings.
But I digress. What's a little burnt flesh amidst the dense fog of smoke, alcohol and sweat really? Besides, it was a small red patch. I wasn't going to spoil my night by morphing into super-bitch mode to flay the pride out of some unimportant male who was too irresponsible to watch where he was waving whatever he was smoking.
At that point in time, the only thing that did tick me off was the fact that the damn place (Poppy) was almost as comfortable as weaving through a compressed pack of sweaty hounds with their tongues hanging loose trying to outdo each other's saliva puddle capacity. In essence, it was quite a pain to move two feet without having the side of your arms graze some other individual's damp, sweaty skin (or in the guys' case, a whole back of sweat, ick).
However, my opinion has vastly changed. I woke up Monday morning and to my horror, the innocent red patch had grown into a flower bed of blisters, with an outstandingly sore and broken one smack in the middle.
No, I've never been burnt by a cigarette before.
How was I supposed to know it was going to break out in mutilated blisters?
To that asswipe who was too busy picking up some girl at the bar to realize that he shouldn't be waving that piece of shit around in a very, CROWDED club:
I'm sorry that I never got the chance to personally -accidentally- wedge my three inch heels into your parts where the sun doesn't and probably will never shine. I hope you went home alone and that the burning end of the cigarette you were smoking gets jammed up your asshole. Oh yes, go fuck yourself and die of lung cancer should you burn another girl's arm ever again.
I didn't give it much thought when the burning ember end of the cigarette met the side of my arm. I turned to activate my evil eye and piercing glare only to get a half-hearted apology. Then again, it's not to say I was expecting an apology at all. Although, if he didn't even mutter his poor excuse for an apology, I must say that would've given me a good reason to take his cigarette, extinguish it in his drink and saunter away... after I tell the girl he's picking up he secretly loves wearing garter belts and fishnet stockings.
But I digress. What's a little burnt flesh amidst the dense fog of smoke, alcohol and sweat really? Besides, it was a small red patch. I wasn't going to spoil my night by morphing into super-bitch mode to flay the pride out of some unimportant male who was too irresponsible to watch where he was waving whatever he was smoking.
At that point in time, the only thing that did tick me off was the fact that the damn place (Poppy) was almost as comfortable as weaving through a compressed pack of sweaty hounds with their tongues hanging loose trying to outdo each other's saliva puddle capacity. In essence, it was quite a pain to move two feet without having the side of your arms graze some other individual's damp, sweaty skin (or in the guys' case, a whole back of sweat, ick).
However, my opinion has vastly changed. I woke up Monday morning and to my horror, the innocent red patch had grown into a flower bed of blisters, with an outstandingly sore and broken one smack in the middle.
No, I've never been burnt by a cigarette before.
How was I supposed to know it was going to break out in mutilated blisters?
To that asswipe who was too busy picking up some girl at the bar to realize that he shouldn't be waving that piece of shit around in a very, CROWDED club:
I'm sorry that I never got the chance to personally -accidentally- wedge my three inch heels into your parts where the sun doesn't and probably will never shine. I hope you went home alone and that the burning end of the cigarette you were smoking gets jammed up your asshole. Oh yes, go fuck yourself and die of lung cancer should you burn another girl's arm ever again.
some of these days
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Random thought one:
It's a little belated but congratulations Italy!
Oh, and grats on the headbutt Spanish bull style to Zidane as well ;) Along with the Golden Player award, Zidane nabbed himself a spot on YTMND as well thereby glorifying and immortalizing him in the frivolous hall of internet pop culturism.
Here are a few shots from our night out at Plaza Sunrise:
People!
More people; waiting anxiously for the match to begin.
I'd like to just point out that hiring Ferhad (local Malaysian artiste) to some-what-sort-of kick off the World Cup finals was almost as ironic as having Charlotte Church perform before the announcement of the Soul Train Music Awards for Best R&B/Soul Song of the Year.
Honestly people, was there NO ONE ELSE you could hire?
Out of the vast pool of celebrity hopefuls that could juggle balls, tap dance and breathe fire all at once, why-OH-WHY for the love of anything and everything that is holy and dear to you, did you have to hire Ferhad?
Granted Ferhad could be the nicest guy around (not that I'd know and could really care less), he was just out of place. Really.
Although, I give him a short salute for trying to generate enthusiasm for a sea of people in a crowd that was too drunk to care or too busy giggling uncomfortably but yet openly mocking his rather ah, sad attempt in trying to engage the crowd (read: yours truly).
Fragmenting thought two:
I've sold my soul to the devil. Or rather, I've caved in to the undying, roaring bonfire of commercialism and placed a Google Ad on my sidebar.
Satisfying thought three:
I finally saw Take the Lead.
My love for dance has been ignited ten-fold; as did the aching, blossoming desire in my chest to move and whisk myself to the nearest ballroom dance session while I watched Sasha transform the already sensual tango into a raw, unbridled ménages à trois of primal lust.
Well Terry, even after watching Antonio Bandares, I'd have to say I'd still rather watch you strut your stuff on stage. Now dazzle us! ;)
Random Public Announcement thought four (applies to 20% of the road blind vermin who never should've obtained a driving license to begin with):
My head feels like it's making fast friends with an iron skillet and enjoying the pleasures of a cacophonous symphony of shrieking banshees. I can almost feel the devil's grasp riddling with the squishy matter (or what's left of it) as a prelude to an intensively bitchy albeit gratifying tiraid regarding the horrible LACK of use of the signal indicator in the average Malaysian driver's car.
In short, if you still have two functioning hands from not tossing off every other waking hour and realize that even though your worthless life may only be hanging by a delicate, twilight-spun strand of awareness, PLEASE use that damn signal indicator so that the people around you on the road aren't getting their panties in a twist worrying about a premature death when they see you recklessly weaving in and out of traffic ala the latest version of EA Games' Need For Speed.
Put down that cellphone and concentrate on letting the people around you know that you're not going to attempt a kamikaze swerve into their lane lest you want to be a paraplegic and be forced to have someone drive for you for the rest of your miserable, irresponsible life.
Thank you.
Random thought one:
It's a little belated but congratulations Italy!
Oh, and grats on the headbutt Spanish bull style to Zidane as well ;) Along with the Golden Player award, Zidane nabbed himself a spot on YTMND as well thereby glorifying and immortalizing him in the frivolous hall of internet pop culturism.
Here are a few shots from our night out at Plaza Sunrise:
People!
More people; waiting anxiously for the match to begin.
I'd like to just point out that hiring Ferhad (local Malaysian artiste) to some-what-sort-of kick off the World Cup finals was almost as ironic as having Charlotte Church perform before the announcement of the Soul Train Music Awards for Best R&B/Soul Song of the Year.
Honestly people, was there NO ONE ELSE you could hire?
Out of the vast pool of celebrity hopefuls that could juggle balls, tap dance and breathe fire all at once, why-OH-WHY for the love of anything and everything that is holy and dear to you, did you have to hire Ferhad?
Granted Ferhad could be the nicest guy around (not that I'd know and could really care less), he was just out of place. Really.
Although, I give him a short salute for trying to generate enthusiasm for a sea of people in a crowd that was too drunk to care or too busy giggling uncomfortably but yet openly mocking his rather ah, sad attempt in trying to engage the crowd (read: yours truly).
Fragmenting thought two:
I've sold my soul to the devil. Or rather, I've caved in to the undying, roaring bonfire of commercialism and placed a Google Ad on my sidebar.
Satisfying thought three:
I finally saw Take the Lead.
My love for dance has been ignited ten-fold; as did the aching, blossoming desire in my chest to move and whisk myself to the nearest ballroom dance session while I watched Sasha transform the already sensual tango into a raw, unbridled ménages à trois of primal lust.
Well Terry, even after watching Antonio Bandares, I'd have to say I'd still rather watch you strut your stuff on stage. Now dazzle us! ;)
Random Public Announcement thought four (applies to 20% of the road blind vermin who never should've obtained a driving license to begin with):
My head feels like it's making fast friends with an iron skillet and enjoying the pleasures of a cacophonous symphony of shrieking banshees. I can almost feel the devil's grasp riddling with the squishy matter (or what's left of it) as a prelude to an intensively bitchy albeit gratifying tiraid regarding the horrible LACK of use of the signal indicator in the average Malaysian driver's car.
In short, if you still have two functioning hands from not tossing off every other waking hour and realize that even though your worthless life may only be hanging by a delicate, twilight-spun strand of awareness, PLEASE use that damn signal indicator so that the people around you on the road aren't getting their panties in a twist worrying about a premature death when they see you recklessly weaving in and out of traffic ala the latest version of EA Games' Need For Speed.
Put down that cellphone and concentrate on letting the people around you know that you're not going to attempt a kamikaze swerve into their lane lest you want to be a paraplegic and be forced to have someone drive for you for the rest of your miserable, irresponsible life.
Thank you.
Dialing for Dummies
Thursday, July 06, 2006
I'm beginning to suspect that the previous owner of my cellphone number was either some modern Messiah with godly charm or was pretty much the common cellphone whore. I have people calling me at queer hours from seemingly every corner of the world looking for random people (boyfriend, relative, spouse, child, pastor, stalkee, etc.) in a myriad of languages.
For example:
This incident happened a few months back when I had just signed up for my number.
Silly me, there I was worried about how no one had my cellphone number and I had to embark on a crusade to call each and every person I knew to make my brand spanking new number known.
A girl called while I was happily chewing away at my mango kerabu in a dimly lit SS2 Thai resturant and asked for some guy. Actually, I've received a few missed calls from her number before but I've never called back. I figured, if it's a number I don't recognize and it's a royal deal of an importance, I'd have about ten missed calls before they decide to text in glaring capitals. I digress, back to my call; I know, pretty generic yes? But my life isn't all that promiscuous. I couldn't have been so lucky as to be on the receiving but mistaken end of a secret apocalyptic plan of world domination. Instead, I had to deal with some guy's jilted ex, some chick he's been trying fervently to dodge (and apparently still is) and/or stalker. I tell her politely, "I'm sorry, I think you've got the wrong number."
We hang up, I go back to my food.
Just as I'm about to plunge my fork into the yellow mass of deliciously sour shredded mango strips, my cellphone rings again.
And it's the same person.
I sigh and hang up.
Five seconds later, an electric blue light blinks from my cellphone and huzzah, it's the same number! Persistent little chit, isn't she? I answer it this time.
Again, she asks for the same person.
Slightly irritated, I tell her she's got the wrong number -again- and that I have no acquaintances nor do I have any blood ties to this Ah Kau, Abu, Ah Ling or Ali Baba kid she seems to desperately want to track down. Look, if the man didn't call you when he changed his number, he obviously has his reasons.
Not discouraged at all, the girl pressed on launching into a dizzy wave of twenty STUPID questions asking things I'm obviously not going to disclose to some looney over the phone like where I currently stay, which hole in Malaysia I'm currently answering the phone from, how long I've had the number and where or whom did I get it from.
I bluntly told her I am in Malaysia and I'm having my dinner... to which she paused (and NOT having taken the hint), giggled and asked again where in Malaysia.
Do I look like I'm going to give you my fucking location coordinates?
I replied in my sweetest and patience-strained voice that I really don't know the person she's looking for and it would be nice if she stopped calling. In actual fact, I had wanted to say "Look bitch, I don't know him and I don't know you. Obviously, he doesn't want to know you either because he has taken lengths to make sure you don't get your grubby paws on his new number. So move along, stop fucking calling and let me eat in peace, please."
She hung up, not entirely convinced I wasn't in on some conspiracy to keep him away from her. However, she has never called since that day.
Good riddance.
And peace is restored.
That is, until the next asshole decides to call and talk to me repeatedly in a foreign dialect even though I've answered in English with a casual "Wrong number, sorry."
Don't read too much into it; it reads and sounds what it means: hang the fuck up.
I'm beginning to suspect that the previous owner of my cellphone number was either some modern Messiah with godly charm or was pretty much the common cellphone whore. I have people calling me at queer hours from seemingly every corner of the world looking for random people (boyfriend, relative, spouse, child, pastor, stalkee, etc.) in a myriad of languages.
For example:
This incident happened a few months back when I had just signed up for my number.
Silly me, there I was worried about how no one had my cellphone number and I had to embark on a crusade to call each and every person I knew to make my brand spanking new number known.
A girl called while I was happily chewing away at my mango kerabu in a dimly lit SS2 Thai resturant and asked for some guy. Actually, I've received a few missed calls from her number before but I've never called back. I figured, if it's a number I don't recognize and it's a royal deal of an importance, I'd have about ten missed calls before they decide to text in glaring capitals. I digress, back to my call; I know, pretty generic yes? But my life isn't all that promiscuous. I couldn't have been so lucky as to be on the receiving but mistaken end of a secret apocalyptic plan of world domination. Instead, I had to deal with some guy's jilted ex, some chick he's been trying fervently to dodge (and apparently still is) and/or stalker. I tell her politely, "I'm sorry, I think you've got the wrong number."
We hang up, I go back to my food.
Just as I'm about to plunge my fork into the yellow mass of deliciously sour shredded mango strips, my cellphone rings again.
And it's the same person.
I sigh and hang up.
Five seconds later, an electric blue light blinks from my cellphone and huzzah, it's the same number! Persistent little chit, isn't she? I answer it this time.
Again, she asks for the same person.
Slightly irritated, I tell her she's got the wrong number -again- and that I have no acquaintances nor do I have any blood ties to this Ah Kau, Abu, Ah Ling or Ali Baba kid she seems to desperately want to track down. Look, if the man didn't call you when he changed his number, he obviously has his reasons.
Not discouraged at all, the girl pressed on launching into a dizzy wave of twenty STUPID questions asking things I'm obviously not going to disclose to some looney over the phone like where I currently stay, which hole in Malaysia I'm currently answering the phone from, how long I've had the number and where or whom did I get it from.
I bluntly told her I am in Malaysia and I'm having my dinner... to which she paused (and NOT having taken the hint), giggled and asked again where in Malaysia.
Do I look like I'm going to give you my fucking location coordinates?
I replied in my sweetest and patience-strained voice that I really don't know the person she's looking for and it would be nice if she stopped calling. In actual fact, I had wanted to say "Look bitch, I don't know him and I don't know you. Obviously, he doesn't want to know you either because he has taken lengths to make sure you don't get your grubby paws on his new number. So move along, stop fucking calling and let me eat in peace, please."
She hung up, not entirely convinced I wasn't in on some conspiracy to keep him away from her. However, she has never called since that day.
Good riddance.
And peace is restored.
That is, until the next asshole decides to call and talk to me repeatedly in a foreign dialect even though I've answered in English with a casual "Wrong number, sorry."
Don't read too much into it; it reads and sounds what it means: hang the fuck up.
Labels: rant
Frenzy
Sunday, July 02, 2006
As the cheering, roaring, screaming and hooting subsided at our little mamak corner in Sri Hartamas, I can only say that Portugal was (and still is) AWESOME.
Each penalty kick was an orgasm and a half ;)
And to think, when we first sat down, we had harbored fears of getting tables flung at our faces for cheering on Portugal. England football hooligans, tsk tsk!
Alas, England got owned and is goin' home because their luck just ran out ;)
As the cheering, roaring, screaming and hooting subsided at our little mamak corner in Sri Hartamas, I can only say that Portugal was (and still is) AWESOME.
Each penalty kick was an orgasm and a half ;)
And to think, when we first sat down, we had harbored fears of getting tables flung at our faces for cheering on Portugal. England football hooligans, tsk tsk!
Alas, England got owned and is goin' home because their luck just ran out ;)
Labels: rant
The Gym and You
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
For starters, don't even ask me which gym I go to. For good reason I might add.
Number 1, I don't have a gym membership. I'm sorry Max, I just can't do it. Why? See reason two.
Number 2, I don't possess enough discipline nor do I foresee myself shuffling in enough commitment to haul my lazy ass away from my lappie long enough to make it up to the bathroom and climb into a pair of sweats. I will however, being me, trip over myself if I'm asked to go out clubbing without hesitation. Shallow, really.
Number 3, since I lack the motivation, I shouldn't really even bother investing in a gym membership to begin with.
Honestly, I think I'm just intimidated by the prospects of imagining a hippo bouncing on her treadmill while gasping for oxygen in a non-too-ladylike fashion while realizing that everyone around her is watching (in choked fear) to make sure she doesn't inevitably collapse and/or make her audience one, huge fleshy cushion.
Despite not being physically present in a gym, I've heard interesting stories about the people who frequent them. Of course, it's doubly as interesting if that person is someone you personally know or has reached celebrity status.
According to a friend, let's call him sexyNate (he wanted to be known as Hottie McHot; I balked and proceeded to laugh myself into a hysterical fit as pigs flew), who said:
(mind you I'm just joining up my MSN conversations; not that I really give a flying fuck but sexyNate is delicate, so be gentle on the grammar)
She doesn't need to workout, that's what that abdominal vibrator is for. If anyone is wondering, I couldn't Google Marion C, heh. As to why I didn't put a direct product link; OSIM International is a donkey ass flash site, 'nuff said.
As to whether that POS actually works: no.
I own one. Don't ask.
But I digress. So sexyNate rants on:
I got derailed again! Back to sexyNate's adventure:
For starters, don't even ask me which gym I go to. For good reason I might add.
Number 1, I don't have a gym membership. I'm sorry Max, I just can't do it. Why? See reason two.
Number 2, I don't possess enough discipline nor do I foresee myself shuffling in enough commitment to haul my lazy ass away from my lappie long enough to make it up to the bathroom and climb into a pair of sweats. I will however, being me, trip over myself if I'm asked to go out clubbing without hesitation. Shallow, really.
Number 3, since I lack the motivation, I shouldn't really even bother investing in a gym membership to begin with.
Honestly, I think I'm just intimidated by the prospects of imagining a hippo bouncing on her treadmill while gasping for oxygen in a non-too-ladylike fashion while realizing that everyone around her is watching (in choked fear) to make sure she doesn't inevitably collapse and/or make her audience one, huge fleshy cushion.
Despite not being physically present in a gym, I've heard interesting stories about the people who frequent them. Of course, it's doubly as interesting if that person is someone you personally know or has reached celebrity status.
According to a friend, let's call him sexyNate (he wanted to be known as Hottie McHot; I balked and proceeded to laugh myself into a hysterical fit as pigs flew), who said:
(mind you I'm just joining up my MSN conversations; not that I really give a flying fuck but sexyNate is delicate, so be gentle on the grammar)
Marion C of OSIM uZap fame? Work out? Poppycock!"I have hot gossip on celebrities... for example, Marion C goes to the gym not to work out... she puts on piles of makeup and wears designer workout clothes like Nike and Adidas... which look like she just wore them off the rack.. they DO NOT LOOK USED AT ALL... and she smiles, and walks around the gym... waving at people... and you never see her working out ONCE."
She doesn't need to workout, that's what that abdominal vibrator is for. If anyone is wondering, I couldn't Google Marion C, heh. As to why I didn't put a direct product link; OSIM International is a donkey ass flash site, 'nuff said.
As to whether that POS actually works: no.
I own one. Don't ask.
But I digress. So sexyNate rants on:
This scenario does remind me of my Organic Chemistry TA bitching about students coming up to him while he was working out in the gym and asking him for exam/discussion question answers. The exasperated look he had while standing in front of an auditorium full of students either blinking sleepily or in grand slumber hidden behind strategically placed newspapers was absolutely priceless."Well she does la.... she will use the machine for like 2 seconds then she'll stop.... walk around... and i saw someone actually went up to her and asked to take photograph, it was HILARIOUS!"
I got derailed again! Back to sexyNate's adventure:
In summary:"I was staring in disbelief but it was probably Marion's dream come true... she was probably waiting for that... and then Adam C is a skinny little bastard with a big head... his arms are the size of toothpicks.. its highly disturbing and its disproportionate to his body."
It's only Marion C who goes to the gym not to work out but to be an exhibitionist:"So the total is: Jaclyn Victor, Marion C, Adam C, Tony Eusoff... and apparently some guy who was in 'The Young and the Dangerous'."
As a final note, I would like to add this is what sexyNate said about Tony Eusoff:"hahaha Marion fool... oh yeah she's really loud too... she has a 'trainer' but really they dun do anything... she just goes 'ARGHH IT'S SO HEAVY' and whines... i had my headphones on listening to music and i could hear this high pitch screaming... i took out my headphones and i was like... oh it's marion whining"
Celebs and all that jazz. UNF."Yeah tony eusoff is FIT. Uh. That came out wrong."
Labels: rant
World Cup FEVER!
Sunday, June 11, 2006
The crowd is restless, high on adrenaline and pushed to the edge of frenzy excitement. The players are vicious; in both skill and the drive to win (the non-too-subtle dirty plays, eh?). The goalkeepers are so determined they dive face first after the incoming football approaching at comet-like speed and hang on to it while embracing it in a protective, fetal position cocoon. So much so you could mistake the football for their own jewels as they desperately hang on like the very continual survival of the human race depended on it. Salute! ;)
Don't really expect anything but "GOAL!" and/or a mouthful of profanity since I've jumped on the merry bandwagon of borderlining a football hooligan as the hectic, giddy buzz of the World Cup tournaments rumble onto my TV screen at the wee hours in the morning.
The only thing less exciting and horribly uninspiring during football matches are the OSIM ads. Or rather, the one OSIM ad that's not entirely arousing but particularly disturbing being shown over and over... and over again. Really, iGallop? OSIM might as well be trying to sell a sybian masquerading as a "Core and Abs Exerciser" for the whole family.
In all honesty, I've actually sat on one of those before... and I'm referring to the OSIM iGallop, not the sybian ;) The promoter sat me side-saddled on one of those contraptions (which, quite frankly takes the term "grinding at inanimate objects" to new heights) while chatting me up. Thirty minutes, one interesting conversation and a graceful dismount later, the only thing that got a work out was my stiff backbone as I tried to keep a proper posture while attempting to keep my body from flailing about too much and to NOT fall off the iGallop like a clumsy twat.
Needless to say, I didn't buy that poor excuse for a sybian/horse/exercise machine.
I do not need a machine that bounces me up and down which ultimately just looks like I'm trying relentlessly hard to seduce the empty, sweaty air in the room around me and be oh-so-naughty and intimate with my exercise equipment. But I digress.
Actually, I really don't know why I'm still blogging.
Back to World Cup xD For the record, England didn't deserve that goal. Suck it up you England fans, that match was intensely rotten :P
Can't wait for tomorrow's match: Japan vs. Australia! However, I think I may just cry when Japan goes up against Brazil.
The crowd is restless, high on adrenaline and pushed to the edge of frenzy excitement. The players are vicious; in both skill and the drive to win (the non-too-subtle dirty plays, eh?). The goalkeepers are so determined they dive face first after the incoming football approaching at comet-like speed and hang on to it while embracing it in a protective, fetal position cocoon. So much so you could mistake the football for their own jewels as they desperately hang on like the very continual survival of the human race depended on it. Salute! ;)
Don't really expect anything but "GOAL!" and/or a mouthful of profanity since I've jumped on the merry bandwagon of borderlining a football hooligan as the hectic, giddy buzz of the World Cup tournaments rumble onto my TV screen at the wee hours in the morning.
The only thing less exciting and horribly uninspiring during football matches are the OSIM ads. Or rather, the one OSIM ad that's not entirely arousing but particularly disturbing being shown over and over... and over again. Really, iGallop? OSIM might as well be trying to sell a sybian masquerading as a "Core and Abs Exerciser" for the whole family.
In all honesty, I've actually sat on one of those before... and I'm referring to the OSIM iGallop, not the sybian ;) The promoter sat me side-saddled on one of those contraptions (which, quite frankly takes the term "grinding at inanimate objects" to new heights) while chatting me up. Thirty minutes, one interesting conversation and a graceful dismount later, the only thing that got a work out was my stiff backbone as I tried to keep a proper posture while attempting to keep my body from flailing about too much and to NOT fall off the iGallop like a clumsy twat.
Needless to say, I didn't buy that poor excuse for a sybian/horse/exercise machine.
I do not need a machine that bounces me up and down which ultimately just looks like I'm trying relentlessly hard to seduce the empty, sweaty air in the room around me and be oh-so-naughty and intimate with my exercise equipment. But I digress.
Actually, I really don't know why I'm still blogging.
Back to World Cup xD For the record, England didn't deserve that goal. Suck it up you England fans, that match was intensely rotten :P
Can't wait for tomorrow's match: Japan vs. Australia! However, I think I may just cry when Japan goes up against Brazil.
System: Error!
Thursday, June 08, 2006
I'm pretty much braindead, more than the usual, tonight.
My left eye is twitching profusely, quite possibly from the lack of blinking earlier in the day.
Web host migrations are a pain in the ass, really.
Templates? Helpful, but alas, still not automated enough.
To top it off, some of the pages are in Malay.
I swore I heard the plastic of my mouse squeal when I found out I had to translate.
Speaking of monitors, I need another one.
Tabbing between Fireworks, Dreamweaver and Illustrator gets to you after awhile--like that itch you want to scratch but you know if you keep going gung-ho at it, you're only going to end up taking off a sizeable chunk of your skin. I've been thoroughly spoilt by the BNMC Lab <3
It doesn't help that my neighbour's kid is a spoilt little brat glorifying in the midst of his teenage angsty years. He stands at the bloody door and screams at his maid (who's too nice of a person to be babysitting those rascals if you ask me), sister and/or mommy in his semi-distorted nasal voice like he's about to blow their heads to bits... or something to that effect, to open the door for him. Every. Single. Time. When he's out, it's a double-edged sword really: relieved that he's no longer forcefully attempting to command the gates of his castle down or waiting to painfully puncture my eardrums for when he does come back so that I don't have to listen to his volatile tantrums?
For fuck's sake give the boy a key.
Did I also mention that his sister, without fail, cries every day? At a specific time too, somewhat close to dinner. How old is she? Old enough to play badminton, open the door and retaliate (if the planetary alignment is right) when her elder brother gets all too pissy.
Yeah.
I have songs from the Alice in Wonderland play (from back when I was in Coventry <3) whizzing through my head and I'm singing along to them like I sang to them yesterday in the choir. It's peculiar, nostalgic and to a point that it's warmly comforting.
If you're wondering, I was the small door in the play xD
Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why: I was the only and shortest Asian kid amongst my tall, big-eyed, sharp-featured classmates. I'm squeezing what's left of my shriveled brain to see if I can remember their faces. Gemma, Becky, Simon, Paul, William, Anna, Michael... I'm sure I have a class photo somewhere xD I don't believe Simon was in my class O.o I just remember him having brilliant, fiery red hair. At that age of innocence and curiousity, it was a fascinating sight: liquid rubies dancing in firelight every time he stood by a window. Oh yeah, he played a tree/the Cheshire Cat in the play, that's probably why I remembered lol
I should just stop posting for the day before I completely derail my thoughts all the way down to the mental ward.
Oh yes, due to popular demand (AHAHAHAHAHA, such a fib said with grossly exaggerated grace) and because people are bitching/whining that I don't have any pictures of myself on my blog (ironic, isn't it?), here are some shots I took for my baby... which he promptly laughed himself into fits upon seeing them, mind you.
Sean. Taken before the big room cleaning session.
Sean 2 minutes later. Trying to be cute eh? EMO.
And that's about all the camera whoring I'll be doing this year.
Before I leave, here's a naughty, dirty little gift from Mark. She's so good it shames my writing back down to a plain, vanilla-flavored popsicle.
I'm pretty much braindead, more than the usual, tonight.
My left eye is twitching profusely, quite possibly from the lack of blinking earlier in the day.
Web host migrations are a pain in the ass, really.
Templates? Helpful, but alas, still not automated enough.
To top it off, some of the pages are in Malay.
I swore I heard the plastic of my mouse squeal when I found out I had to translate.
Speaking of monitors, I need another one.
Tabbing between Fireworks, Dreamweaver and Illustrator gets to you after awhile--like that itch you want to scratch but you know if you keep going gung-ho at it, you're only going to end up taking off a sizeable chunk of your skin. I've been thoroughly spoilt by the BNMC Lab <3
It doesn't help that my neighbour's kid is a spoilt little brat glorifying in the midst of his teenage angsty years. He stands at the bloody door and screams at his maid (who's too nice of a person to be babysitting those rascals if you ask me), sister and/or mommy in his semi-distorted nasal voice like he's about to blow their heads to bits... or something to that effect, to open the door for him. Every. Single. Time. When he's out, it's a double-edged sword really: relieved that he's no longer forcefully attempting to command the gates of his castle down or waiting to painfully puncture my eardrums for when he does come back so that I don't have to listen to his volatile tantrums?
For fuck's sake give the boy a key.
Did I also mention that his sister, without fail, cries every day? At a specific time too, somewhat close to dinner. How old is she? Old enough to play badminton, open the door and retaliate (if the planetary alignment is right) when her elder brother gets all too pissy.
Yeah.
I have songs from the Alice in Wonderland play (from back when I was in Coventry <3) whizzing through my head and I'm singing along to them like I sang to them yesterday in the choir. It's peculiar, nostalgic and to a point that it's warmly comforting.
If you're wondering, I was the small door in the play xD
Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why: I was the only and shortest Asian kid amongst my tall, big-eyed, sharp-featured classmates. I'm squeezing what's left of my shriveled brain to see if I can remember their faces. Gemma, Becky, Simon, Paul, William, Anna, Michael... I'm sure I have a class photo somewhere xD I don't believe Simon was in my class O.o I just remember him having brilliant, fiery red hair. At that age of innocence and curiousity, it was a fascinating sight: liquid rubies dancing in firelight every time he stood by a window. Oh yeah, he played a tree/the Cheshire Cat in the play, that's probably why I remembered lol
I should just stop posting for the day before I completely derail my thoughts all the way down to the mental ward.
Oh yes, due to popular demand (AHAHAHAHAHA, such a fib said with grossly exaggerated grace) and because people are bitching/whining that I don't have any pictures of myself on my blog (ironic, isn't it?), here are some shots I took for my baby... which he promptly laughed himself into fits upon seeing them, mind you.
Sean. Taken before the big room cleaning session.
Sean 2 minutes later. Trying to be cute eh? EMO.
And that's about all the camera whoring I'll be doing this year.
Before I leave, here's a naughty, dirty little gift from Mark. She's so good it shames my writing back down to a plain, vanilla-flavored popsicle.
X3 Preshow
Friday, May 26, 2006
I am so looking forward to X3: The Last Stand. OMG! OMG!
*cough*HughJackmanFamkeJanssen*cough*yummy*cough* :D
So utterly excited I couldn't really go to bed last night lol xD I realize that I'm a massive geek. I have come to terms with that :P
I'm incoherent. I'm not sure I'll make it past dinner without bouncing off the walls and have a serious case of nonsensical verbal diarrhea.
Since I'm ranting and raving, not that it's an alien concept, my camera charger finally arrived. I've been waiting since my saturday night rendezvous. Pictures! :D Hooray!
Hopefully we'll get a few drunk ones at Chris' place tonight ;) If we don't pass out right after the movie that is. Wonder if we can take a midnight plunge into her pool, hmm. But honestly, I've done my fair share of cam whoring for the day. None that I'm about to post them here. It's all boring, those meaningless poser shots, really.
I've finally decided that growing my fingernails out is too much of a hassle only because they took a big shit on my typing speed. I know, I'm bad :(
You have to realize by now that I've phased out of my historical romance mood. My insolent lack of regard towards censorship regarding the colorful language I normally use and impertinent sarcasm will grace my posts once again.
I'm still punctuation happy. I don't know, don't ask.
Six more hours to X3!
I am so looking forward to X3: The Last Stand. OMG! OMG!
*cough*HughJackmanFamkeJanssen*cough*yummy*cough* :D
So utterly excited I couldn't really go to bed last night lol xD I realize that I'm a massive geek. I have come to terms with that :P
I'm incoherent. I'm not sure I'll make it past dinner without bouncing off the walls and have a serious case of nonsensical verbal diarrhea.
Since I'm ranting and raving, not that it's an alien concept, my camera charger finally arrived. I've been waiting since my saturday night rendezvous. Pictures! :D Hooray!
Hopefully we'll get a few drunk ones at Chris' place tonight ;) If we don't pass out right after the movie that is. Wonder if we can take a midnight plunge into her pool, hmm. But honestly, I've done my fair share of cam whoring for the day. None that I'm about to post them here. It's all boring, those meaningless poser shots, really.
I've finally decided that growing my fingernails out is too much of a hassle only because they took a big shit on my typing speed. I know, I'm bad :(
You have to realize by now that I've phased out of my historical romance mood. My insolent lack of regard towards censorship regarding the colorful language I normally use and impertinent sarcasm will grace my posts once again.
I'm still punctuation happy. I don't know, don't ask.
Six more hours to X3!
the end of an era
Saturday, May 20, 2006
it's such an irony that i can't sleep past 7:30am anymore -_- at least, for the past three days or so :x
however, i don't think i fancy waking up early in the mornings anymore.
why? the cicaks are still awake in my kitchen O.o i nearly tripped over myself and bashed my foot into the wall by the kitchen sink when i felt one run over and across my toes. EEEEEEEEE xD
i've attempted to grow my nails out to get a french manicure (anybody know why it's called a french manicure? nico doesn't know, so much for going to the source :p) just to find long nails a terrible inconvenience! unless, if you're aiming to cause some serious damage ala sin city ;)
being unaccustomed with the idea of possibly long, glamarous nails, i find myself constantly chipping away at the remnants of the old girly shade that once coated my nails.
the flowers? long gone :x
no more wow!
shelving neko and chibi once and for all when my account expires... whenever that will be :x
(unless alex, you feel like playing her still lol let me know ^^;)
oh oh, news flash for the uneducated: contradiction is a bitch and screenshots are my best friends *beams* xD
since that's off my chest and past this sentence, existences have been thoroughly relinquished: no more drama! :D
time to celebrate with mango lolo ^^;
i'm driving *gasps* ;D
it's such an irony that i can't sleep past 7:30am anymore -_- at least, for the past three days or so :x
however, i don't think i fancy waking up early in the mornings anymore.
why? the cicaks are still awake in my kitchen O.o i nearly tripped over myself and bashed my foot into the wall by the kitchen sink when i felt one run over and across my toes. EEEEEEEEE xD
i've attempted to grow my nails out to get a french manicure (anybody know why it's called a french manicure? nico doesn't know, so much for going to the source :p) just to find long nails a terrible inconvenience! unless, if you're aiming to cause some serious damage ala sin city ;)
being unaccustomed with the idea of possibly long, glamarous nails, i find myself constantly chipping away at the remnants of the old girly shade that once coated my nails.
the flowers? long gone :x
no more wow!
shelving neko and chibi once and for all when my account expires... whenever that will be :x
(unless alex, you feel like playing her still lol let me know ^^;)
oh oh, news flash for the uneducated: contradiction is a bitch and screenshots are my best friends *beams* xD
since that's off my chest and past this sentence, existences have been thoroughly relinquished: no more drama! :D
time to celebrate with mango lolo ^^;
i'm driving *gasps* ;D
intermission
nico day 1: malaysian food 101
i used to love rain, but now i fucking hate rain. hate it with a passion when i'm walking outside.
especially when it rains for 20 minutes every 15 minutes starting from 4pm onwards.
kanasai ccb (translation: string of bad words in hokkien).
sadly, no pictures because nico was being VERY SHY.
so i met up with nico around 11am today. yes, that's too damn early for me. but hey lol although, he insisted that i could've been earlier if i wasn't online lol xD
the trip to hotel istana from my house was a 30 minute malay-for-dummies crash course as i was polishing my malay with the cab driver (who ironically had a chinese surname O.o) prodding him on places i could take nico to.
i'll admit it, i am an awful tour guide. the WORST (for shame :p).
upon arriving at hotel istana, i had to double check to see if i got the room number right. i mean, seriously... if i got the wrong room, it would be one big hella surprise for the poor bugger who's wondering what on earth this hyperactive chinese girl is doing knocking on his/her door.
after butchering nico's name a couple of times, the nice lady at the registration counter confirmed his room number for me :P
yay! i finally meet the secretively shy nico! xD who, ironically, has a toon that wields a sword bigger than he is and is all for charging in head first annihilating everyone in his path :p after a brief hello and a little chit chatter, we headed off to klcc to grab brunch.
at cina's suggestion, we stopped to have lunch at madam kwan's ^^;
actually, i'm not sure how nico really handled the sight of the extremely spicy colored food as i ordered nasi lemak and asam laksa for the both of us lol no, i'm not trying to send him to the hospital :P besides, it's going to taste odd if i'm going to order two dishes that are on opposite ends of the flavor scale O.o
much to his discomfort, it was cute watching him try to eat with a spoon when he's more used to the fork/knife combo :P
hmph, and he had the cheek to mock my leet chopsticks skill ;/
throughout brunch i was trying to explain what a starfruit was to him because that's what he had for a drink O.o and WOW. never thought i'd be that terrible when it comes to describing a piece of fruit lol
well, he did also say i talk way too fast :/ maybe that's the problem lol
to top it all off, we had sweet, icy cold cendol for dessert ^^;
killer line of the day: nico said cendol tastes better when he eats it without looking lol :P
ok ok, so maybe that green worm-like good stuff isn't for everyone ;)
after a wonderful lunch and a little stroll through the decandent floors of klcc, we went to watch m:i:3 xD
it's his first day, do you really expect me to make him walk the whole of kl?
heck, i wouldn't walk the whole of kl (only because i'd get lost kek) and i've been staying here nearly all my life :P
ideally, it would've been fun to grab a drink after the movie outside by the park.
but no.
why?
bloody. fucking. rain. RAIN. :(
so we decided to head back to the hotel to hang out while we wait out the rain.
while twiddling our thumbs waiting for the rain to subside, nico entertained me with his stories and the possibility of tatooing the left half of his ass cheek with a beautiful flower xD ok that was a lie that i baited him into saying xD and yes ladies, i now know why nico hangs out in the deeprun tram ever so often LOL :p the secret is out! bwhahahaha pst nekomatta/chibineko for details ;D
oh yeah, did i mention that nico has this strange fascination with my hair? O.o
i told him he'd get the same results with his hair... he'd just have to wait for it to grow out (i'd say 1 1/2 years? :p) and color it black lol xD
after being bored indoors (think 20 minutes? lol), we left to take a stroll down bintang walk. one might think that this is the best time for a walk, the whole after-rain, chilly fresh air effect...
fuck no.
on my way out i nearly took a dive and pokai (translation: harsh way of saying "fell") by one of the bus stops. HELLO RAIN. doesn't help that i'm a klutz too >.<
after a brief moment of disgraceful panic and agile acrobatics, i managed to not land on my face or ass and held my head up high and continued my walk (mentally cursing and swearing of course).
i've just realized... bintang walk isn't really a big "tourist" area. it's just filled with shopping malls :/ what so "tourist" about that? visit malaysia, welcome to the land of shopping malls! and uh, although, yeah, would've been a wee bit more interesting if nico was female :P
i'm kidding, please don't hurt me :x
walking around rather aimlessly just looking, we ended up getting fruits: jambu air (translation: water apple) and ciku (translation: chiku fruit lol) ^^;
at this point, nico tried to teach me a phrase in french. i asked for "i hate rain".
i can't even pronounce "rain" (was it plui? sounds like i'm spitting, really). don't even ask how that went :P
as we were about to continue our walk to make our way to dinner, yep, you guessed it. RAIN.
(insert long, unintelligible line of inspired albeit inappropriate foul language)
we had to head back to the hotel again :x
i actually fell asleep this time waiting for the blasted rain to stop :/ i had plans on eating at alor and somehow, i don't think nico would appreciate having to eat with rain pelting down by his legs (if not on his back :P)
FINALLY, the rain stops and we are able to make our way to alor.
since we are walking, i was quite surprised by the huge amount of massage/reflexology parlors along the way to alor O.o i mean, i vaguely remember the signs when i was in cina's car but whoa O.o naturally, having a tall, caucasian guy walk next to me does not help things one bit as they are all trying to get him to get a massage lol :p
dinner was comprised of a modest four dish course (which we both only ate half of everything and i'm currently gloating to mike about :p): hokkien mee, ikan pari bakar, stir-fried lala and bbq chicken wings ^^;
i had such a bitch of a time trying to explain what a stingray was to nico. his dictionary was pretty darn useless. burn the thing! xD
while eating, i teased him about not wanting to take pictures because there was a big group of guys next to us with a few ang moh guests busy snapping away at intervals of, i kid you not, 30 seconds.
nico says it's pointless for me to take pictures of him and he'd rather he takes pictures of me.
nut O.o
stop smoking so much crack imo :P
you're on vacation, i live here.
besides, when you're showing your pictures to your friends, they're going to wonder where you are in the pictures :p
you make as much sense as your druid heals in bear form :P
(i said this earlier, but he started jabbing my sides causing me to laugh and without any harmful intent, to accidentally box his face because i am too ticklish -_- sorry :/)
AND dinner concluded day one of our exciting adventure!
except, my clumsiness followed me all the way home as i nearly pokai again trying to close the gate. even the taxi driver who was making a u-turn stopped to see if i was hurt >.>
rain, you're such a bitch tonight. i still love you though, for the most part <3
i still have no idea why on mother nature's green earth did i agree to meet him at 9:30am tomorrow.
regardless, i will HAVE pictures tomorrow.
especially when it rains for 20 minutes every 15 minutes starting from 4pm onwards.
kanasai ccb (translation: string of bad words in hokkien).
sadly, no pictures because nico was being VERY SHY.
so i met up with nico around 11am today. yes, that's too damn early for me. but hey lol although, he insisted that i could've been earlier if i wasn't online lol xD
the trip to hotel istana from my house was a 30 minute malay-for-dummies crash course as i was polishing my malay with the cab driver (who ironically had a chinese surname O.o) prodding him on places i could take nico to.
i'll admit it, i am an awful tour guide. the WORST (for shame :p).
upon arriving at hotel istana, i had to double check to see if i got the room number right. i mean, seriously... if i got the wrong room, it would be one big hella surprise for the poor bugger who's wondering what on earth this hyperactive chinese girl is doing knocking on his/her door.
after butchering nico's name a couple of times, the nice lady at the registration counter confirmed his room number for me :P
yay! i finally meet the secretively shy nico! xD who, ironically, has a toon that wields a sword bigger than he is and is all for charging in head first annihilating everyone in his path :p after a brief hello and a little chit chatter, we headed off to klcc to grab brunch.
at cina's suggestion, we stopped to have lunch at madam kwan's ^^;
actually, i'm not sure how nico really handled the sight of the extremely spicy colored food as i ordered nasi lemak and asam laksa for the both of us lol no, i'm not trying to send him to the hospital :P besides, it's going to taste odd if i'm going to order two dishes that are on opposite ends of the flavor scale O.o
much to his discomfort, it was cute watching him try to eat with a spoon when he's more used to the fork/knife combo :P
hmph, and he had the cheek to mock my leet chopsticks skill ;/
throughout brunch i was trying to explain what a starfruit was to him because that's what he had for a drink O.o and WOW. never thought i'd be that terrible when it comes to describing a piece of fruit lol
well, he did also say i talk way too fast :/ maybe that's the problem lol
to top it all off, we had sweet, icy cold cendol for dessert ^^;
killer line of the day: nico said cendol tastes better when he eats it without looking lol :P
ok ok, so maybe that green worm-like good stuff isn't for everyone ;)
after a wonderful lunch and a little stroll through the decandent floors of klcc, we went to watch m:i:3 xD
it's his first day, do you really expect me to make him walk the whole of kl?
heck, i wouldn't walk the whole of kl (only because i'd get lost kek) and i've been staying here nearly all my life :P
ideally, it would've been fun to grab a drink after the movie outside by the park.
but no.
why?
bloody. fucking. rain. RAIN. :(
so we decided to head back to the hotel to hang out while we wait out the rain.
while twiddling our thumbs waiting for the rain to subside, nico entertained me with his stories and the possibility of tatooing the left half of his ass cheek with a beautiful flower xD ok that was a lie that i baited him into saying xD and yes ladies, i now know why nico hangs out in the deeprun tram ever so often LOL :p the secret is out! bwhahahaha pst nekomatta/chibineko for details ;D
oh yeah, did i mention that nico has this strange fascination with my hair? O.o
i told him he'd get the same results with his hair... he'd just have to wait for it to grow out (i'd say 1 1/2 years? :p) and color it black lol xD
after being bored indoors (think 20 minutes? lol), we left to take a stroll down bintang walk. one might think that this is the best time for a walk, the whole after-rain, chilly fresh air effect...
fuck no.
on my way out i nearly took a dive and pokai (translation: harsh way of saying "fell") by one of the bus stops. HELLO RAIN. doesn't help that i'm a klutz too >.<
after a brief moment of disgraceful panic and agile acrobatics, i managed to not land on my face or ass and held my head up high and continued my walk (mentally cursing and swearing of course).
i've just realized... bintang walk isn't really a big "tourist" area. it's just filled with shopping malls :/ what so "tourist" about that? visit malaysia, welcome to the land of shopping malls! and uh, although, yeah, would've been a wee bit more interesting if nico was female :P
i'm kidding, please don't hurt me :x
walking around rather aimlessly just looking, we ended up getting fruits: jambu air (translation: water apple) and ciku (translation: chiku fruit lol) ^^;
at this point, nico tried to teach me a phrase in french. i asked for "i hate rain".
i can't even pronounce "rain" (was it plui? sounds like i'm spitting, really). don't even ask how that went :P
as we were about to continue our walk to make our way to dinner, yep, you guessed it. RAIN.
(insert long, unintelligible line of inspired albeit inappropriate foul language)
we had to head back to the hotel again :x
i actually fell asleep this time waiting for the blasted rain to stop :/ i had plans on eating at alor and somehow, i don't think nico would appreciate having to eat with rain pelting down by his legs (if not on his back :P)
FINALLY, the rain stops and we are able to make our way to alor.
since we are walking, i was quite surprised by the huge amount of massage/reflexology parlors along the way to alor O.o i mean, i vaguely remember the signs when i was in cina's car but whoa O.o naturally, having a tall, caucasian guy walk next to me does not help things one bit as they are all trying to get him to get a massage lol :p
dinner was comprised of a modest four dish course (which we both only ate half of everything and i'm currently gloating to mike about :p): hokkien mee, ikan pari bakar, stir-fried lala and bbq chicken wings ^^;
i had such a bitch of a time trying to explain what a stingray was to nico. his dictionary was pretty darn useless. burn the thing! xD
while eating, i teased him about not wanting to take pictures because there was a big group of guys next to us with a few ang moh guests busy snapping away at intervals of, i kid you not, 30 seconds.
nico says it's pointless for me to take pictures of him and he'd rather he takes pictures of me.
nut O.o
stop smoking so much crack imo :P
you're on vacation, i live here.
besides, when you're showing your pictures to your friends, they're going to wonder where you are in the pictures :p
you make as much sense as your druid heals in bear form :P
(i said this earlier, but he started jabbing my sides causing me to laugh and without any harmful intent, to accidentally box his face because i am too ticklish -_- sorry :/)
AND dinner concluded day one of our exciting adventure!
except, my clumsiness followed me all the way home as i nearly pokai again trying to close the gate. even the taxi driver who was making a u-turn stopped to see if i was hurt >.>
rain, you're such a bitch tonight. i still love you though, for the most part <3
i still have no idea why on mother nature's green earth did i agree to meet him at 9:30am tomorrow.
regardless, i will HAVE pictures tomorrow.
peanut pipin' perverts
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
5pm was awesome. after spending a long day at pharmaniaga listening in on a 5s course and downing diabetically sweet teh tarik (translation: milk tea which has been "pulled") every 3 hours or so, it was time to go home! <3
on the way back, i stopped by kajang to get my dinner.
yep, there's only one thing in kajang that's deliciously evil enough to make me dash through the horrible piss the sky was taking:
SATAY! :D
i've forgotten how GOOD it felt to stick a nice hot stick of kajang satay practically swimming in peanut sauce into my mouth ^^; almost orgasmic ;)
ugh, don't even ask me how many i ate lol
i lost count some time between lifting the first stick and looking down at the empty plate -_-
however, while buying the satay with my dad, i swear to god, the people at the satay place (painfully obvious young male malay perverts) were just staring at my chest -_- and no, i'm not perasan (translation: being sensitive), it was so obvious that i became uncomfortable just standing around waiting for the friggin' satay to cook -_-
so much so i had to turn my attention to the two black kittens playing hide and seek with each other around the flower pot O.o (awww ^^;)
don't you socially retarded pieces of waste give me any fucking shit about the whole "oh yah, if you wear tight clothes, you're asking for it" bullshit. stop making excuses to be irresponsible.
i was in a plain, roundneck, long-sleeved cotton top and it's not like i was showing any cleavage or anything. i was on my way back from pharmaniaga for fuck's sake, in office attire >.>
to be honest, it's ok to look at a woman's chest, that little acknowledgement is almost (usually) flattering!
however, when that look becomes an "OMFG ARE THOSE TITS?" and you look like you're about to fuck the nearest available hole in the wall, it's time to put your eyeballs back into their sockets and look at my face instead when/if i'm talking to you. it's just RUDE.
have you not seen the shape of a woman's breasts before?
if you think leering that obviously is ok, would you look at your mom like that? your mom is a woman too and (hopefully) with a pair of tits as well.
take some social intelligence classes imo.
seriously, to shamefully sum things up: malaysia is definitely a country with first-class infrastructures and facilities (minus streamyx which is in a shithole class all by its very own) but all that is poisoned and nullified by the third-class mentality of half the morons living in the country using them.
i can't see how we can have the capacity to produce magnificent skyscrapers, sophisticatedly networked highways and an international airport that screams grandeur and luxury... but yet, a scary amount of malaysians are ignorantly BACKWARDS when it comes to social intelligence/culture.
no doubt we are a conservative lot and supposedly are usually very welcoming and friendly, but i don't recall our malaysian culture teaching us to be excessively RUDE with our body language.
so is this "nice" facade only applicable to the tourists who come visit malaysia?
malaysians are on best behavior and obliging mode only when they see an ang moh person?
FOR SHAME!!
if you can't even show the same courtesy to your own fellow malaysians, PLEASE go fucking drown yourself in the nearest monsoon drain and make the country a better place.
5pm was awesome. after spending a long day at pharmaniaga listening in on a 5s course and downing diabetically sweet teh tarik (translation: milk tea which has been "pulled") every 3 hours or so, it was time to go home! <3
on the way back, i stopped by kajang to get my dinner.
yep, there's only one thing in kajang that's deliciously evil enough to make me dash through the horrible piss the sky was taking:
SATAY! :D
i've forgotten how GOOD it felt to stick a nice hot stick of kajang satay practically swimming in peanut sauce into my mouth ^^; almost orgasmic ;)
ugh, don't even ask me how many i ate lol
i lost count some time between lifting the first stick and looking down at the empty plate -_-
however, while buying the satay with my dad, i swear to god, the people at the satay place (painfully obvious young male malay perverts) were just staring at my chest -_- and no, i'm not perasan (translation: being sensitive), it was so obvious that i became uncomfortable just standing around waiting for the friggin' satay to cook -_-
so much so i had to turn my attention to the two black kittens playing hide and seek with each other around the flower pot O.o (awww ^^;)
don't you socially retarded pieces of waste give me any fucking shit about the whole "oh yah, if you wear tight clothes, you're asking for it" bullshit. stop making excuses to be irresponsible.
i was in a plain, roundneck, long-sleeved cotton top and it's not like i was showing any cleavage or anything. i was on my way back from pharmaniaga for fuck's sake, in office attire >.>
to be honest, it's ok to look at a woman's chest, that little acknowledgement is almost (usually) flattering!
however, when that look becomes an "OMFG ARE THOSE TITS?" and you look like you're about to fuck the nearest available hole in the wall, it's time to put your eyeballs back into their sockets and look at my face instead when/if i'm talking to you. it's just RUDE.
have you not seen the shape of a woman's breasts before?
if you think leering that obviously is ok, would you look at your mom like that? your mom is a woman too and (hopefully) with a pair of tits as well.
take some social intelligence classes imo.
seriously, to shamefully sum things up: malaysia is definitely a country with first-class infrastructures and facilities (minus streamyx which is in a shithole class all by its very own) but all that is poisoned and nullified by the third-class mentality of half the morons living in the country using them.
i can't see how we can have the capacity to produce magnificent skyscrapers, sophisticatedly networked highways and an international airport that screams grandeur and luxury... but yet, a scary amount of malaysians are ignorantly BACKWARDS when it comes to social intelligence/culture.
no doubt we are a conservative lot and supposedly are usually very welcoming and friendly, but i don't recall our malaysian culture teaching us to be excessively RUDE with our body language.
so is this "nice" facade only applicable to the tourists who come visit malaysia?
malaysians are on best behavior and obliging mode only when they see an ang moh person?
FOR SHAME!!
if you can't even show the same courtesy to your own fellow malaysians, PLEASE go fucking drown yourself in the nearest monsoon drain and make the country a better place.
a matter of compliments
Sunday, April 23, 2006
before i go into my saturday night escapades, let me just say that i'm NEVER going back to dragon-i in fear of having to spend time in the bathroom worshipping my toilet bowl again.
as fancy as that place looks, i feel that i'm really forking out moolah just for the decorative efforts they put into that place and NOT the cleanliness of the food O.o
ok, granted that my tummy has probably gone to hell in a hand basket since i came home (with all the sexy nasi lemak and asam laksa ei?) and dragon-i was just the wrong place at the wrong time >.>
regardless, i'm still not going back :p
wow, being on poppy's dance floor was both a workout and sauna both at once. it's pretty disgusting if you think about it... rubbing against your unknown neighbour's sweaty body because everyone's squished to a point where breathing becomes an issue and not forgetting that lifting your arms up would be as fantastic as letting a nasty one loose in the middle of the crowd O.o add to that chaos: the heavy breathing, tone-deaf yell-a-long strangers who are really invading your personal space and trying to cop a feel O.o
so after the little mosh on the dance floor, i decided to go back in and mingle with the rest of the girls :D also because i thought i was going to pass out from the giddy scent of adrenaline still lingering in the air around me from the mosh ;p
after a few phrases of mindless chatter, i realized that most malaysian people can't take compliments O.o again, i said most and not all ;D
for example, let's take joo's friend, daniel (hi daniel ^^; no hard feelings if you're reading this hehe :D) ;)
so our conversation went something like this:
some person: wah! all you girls wearing black today?? planned one issit?
me: haha omg i didn't realize! call it female intuition!
*crowd laughter*
daniel: eh, i'm wearing black also, does that mean i'm female too?
me: nooooo, that just means you're special!
daniel: yah, the black sheep
me: oh come on! see, all your friends are wearing white and/or light colored shirts, you stand out in the black shirt and besides it looks good on you
daniel: yah yah, you're such a sweet talker
O.o
do i look like someone who's going to bother to blow smoke up your ass?! :p
if you dress like a complete tard, i probably won't say anything O.o chances are i might just sarcastically snipe at you if i'm feeling particularly nasty that night lol
seriously -_-
i mean, it seems to be the norm here to respond with a neutral and/or negative response when a compliment is paid. why? O.o
(keep in mind the variables here are strangers, semi-strangers and a new environment)
a typical "type a" example:
person a: wow! nice shirt!
person b: eh, nolah... this old thing?
come on, if someone pays you an honest compliment, take it! ^^;
don't be shy :D
what universe-ending catastrophe would come from accepting a compliment? ^^;
of course, then there's the "type b" example:
person a: wow! nice shirt!
person b: eh, nolah... this old thing? i think the color's a little off.
do you dress to not impress when you go out?
why bloody bother wearing that piece of rubbish if you don't like it?
might as well leave the house in nothing but a floor mat, amirite?
even if you are fishing for more compliments... that's the wrong way to go about it. for example, i might just shoot your ass down if i don't know you thinking you're being an attention whore. yes, chances are, it could potentially backfire and you'd find yourself face first in a pile of shit O.o
don't give me that humility and/or asian culture bullshit on how conservative we are. it's one thing to be humble and another thing to be down right offensive and irritating to keep flushing compliments down the loo. well, if you want to show the people you're talking to that you're constantly pessimistic, insecure and walk around like the earth is about to open up and swallow you whole from your miserable existence, then more power to you -_-
being a little more positive is a good thing! compliments are a good thing!
unless you know that person giving you the compliment is being a dishonest prick about it and is just trying to kiss your ass enough to make your bum shine and sparkle O.o
moral of today's story: learn to take compliments! :D big, huge plus if you give them out honestly too ^^; why not make someone elses' day/night a little better? xD
oh and yeah, not forgetting... dragon-i causes random whims to make haste towards your bathroom lol that is, only if you have my tolerance <3
before i go into my saturday night escapades, let me just say that i'm NEVER going back to dragon-i in fear of having to spend time in the bathroom worshipping my toilet bowl again.
as fancy as that place looks, i feel that i'm really forking out moolah just for the decorative efforts they put into that place and NOT the cleanliness of the food O.o
ok, granted that my tummy has probably gone to hell in a hand basket since i came home (with all the sexy nasi lemak and asam laksa ei?) and dragon-i was just the wrong place at the wrong time >.>
regardless, i'm still not going back :p
wow, being on poppy's dance floor was both a workout and sauna both at once. it's pretty disgusting if you think about it... rubbing against your unknown neighbour's sweaty body because everyone's squished to a point where breathing becomes an issue and not forgetting that lifting your arms up would be as fantastic as letting a nasty one loose in the middle of the crowd O.o add to that chaos: the heavy breathing, tone-deaf yell-a-long strangers who are really invading your personal space and trying to cop a feel O.o
so after the little mosh on the dance floor, i decided to go back in and mingle with the rest of the girls :D also because i thought i was going to pass out from the giddy scent of adrenaline still lingering in the air around me from the mosh ;p
after a few phrases of mindless chatter, i realized that most malaysian people can't take compliments O.o again, i said most and not all ;D
for example, let's take joo's friend, daniel (hi daniel ^^; no hard feelings if you're reading this hehe :D) ;)
so our conversation went something like this:
some person: wah! all you girls wearing black today?? planned one issit?
me: haha omg i didn't realize! call it female intuition!
*crowd laughter*
daniel: eh, i'm wearing black also, does that mean i'm female too?
me: nooooo, that just means you're special!
daniel: yah, the black sheep
me: oh come on! see, all your friends are wearing white and/or light colored shirts, you stand out in the black shirt and besides it looks good on you
daniel: yah yah, you're such a sweet talker
O.o
do i look like someone who's going to bother to blow smoke up your ass?! :p
if you dress like a complete tard, i probably won't say anything O.o chances are i might just sarcastically snipe at you if i'm feeling particularly nasty that night lol
seriously -_-
i mean, it seems to be the norm here to respond with a neutral and/or negative response when a compliment is paid. why? O.o
(keep in mind the variables here are strangers, semi-strangers and a new environment)
a typical "type a" example:
person a: wow! nice shirt!
person b: eh, nolah... this old thing?
come on, if someone pays you an honest compliment, take it! ^^;
don't be shy :D
what universe-ending catastrophe would come from accepting a compliment? ^^;
of course, then there's the "type b" example:
person a: wow! nice shirt!
person b: eh, nolah... this old thing? i think the color's a little off.
do you dress to not impress when you go out?
why bloody bother wearing that piece of rubbish if you don't like it?
might as well leave the house in nothing but a floor mat, amirite?
even if you are fishing for more compliments... that's the wrong way to go about it. for example, i might just shoot your ass down if i don't know you thinking you're being an attention whore. yes, chances are, it could potentially backfire and you'd find yourself face first in a pile of shit O.o
don't give me that humility and/or asian culture bullshit on how conservative we are. it's one thing to be humble and another thing to be down right offensive and irritating to keep flushing compliments down the loo. well, if you want to show the people you're talking to that you're constantly pessimistic, insecure and walk around like the earth is about to open up and swallow you whole from your miserable existence, then more power to you -_-
being a little more positive is a good thing! compliments are a good thing!
unless you know that person giving you the compliment is being a dishonest prick about it and is just trying to kiss your ass enough to make your bum shine and sparkle O.o
moral of today's story: learn to take compliments! :D big, huge plus if you give them out honestly too ^^; why not make someone elses' day/night a little better? xD
oh and yeah, not forgetting... dragon-i causes random whims to make haste towards your bathroom lol that is, only if you have my tolerance <3
reincarnated
Friday, April 21, 2006
today, the world's two biggest chickens (namely calvin and i :p) and friend (i can't spell his name so i don't really feel like butchering it to death, sorry! ;/) went to watch takashi shimizu's reincarnation (rinne) -_- yes, the very same director who orchestrated and basked in the whole circus of ju-on/grudge fame.
reincarnation is basically about a film crew remaking a tragedy that happened some few years back which involved a mad doctor killing people off in some godforsakenly isolated hotel up in the mountains. shoot begins, funky stuff happen and we get to see the infamous little female child ghost (in long black hair of course) EVERY j-horror movie must have.
in all, the movie sucked.
S U C K E D.
as calvin so delicately put it, our iqs dropped marginally after sitting through 95 minutes of (massive random spoilers ahead, don't read if you're planning on, for any reason at all, watching this show sometime in the near future) cheap thrills, a looping theme song, a non-believable and unforgivingly UGLY doll, resident evil zombie wannabes and a pseudo sixth sense-ish ending ;/
don't get me wrong, ju-on and its american evil twin scared me shitless... enough to cause hyperventilation, re-affirmation of faith in the church at sonic speed and possibly an instant coma if the day comes that i will be ever so unlucky as to meet up with a certain lady in white crawling down my stairs -_-
shivering as i walked into the theatre, i sat down expecting the same dosage of chilling uneasiness ala ju-on that would linger on even once after the movie was over...
SUCH a disappointment.
well, to be honest, the concepts of reincarnation, dormant memories and lost/old souls are very fascinating... do you ever wonder? if you were someone else in the past? ^^; what happens if you recall a set of memories that aren't yours? hmm.
i suppose there was some sort of cruel intellectual ethics lesson to be learnt in the movie, especially once towards the end, the sole survivor (of the "actual" murders) more or less mentioned that the doctor basically gutted everyone like squealing pigs as an "experiment" O.o shame on you scientists and the lengths you'd go to in the pursuit of knowledge! :P
anyway, but when the lead actress goes into a state of mindfuck and everyone does the whole cgi morph effect into their former selves AND their broken limbs start shaming jim henson and his puppet masters, there is something REALLY WRONG with the show.
the only cheap thrill that came out of this movie was the distorted and horrific looking doll.
how on mother nature's green earth could you possibly get something like that for you kid?
seriously.
at least the doll in "the doll master" by yong-ki jeong was more believably as something you'd actually want your kid to hold at night and cuddle to sleep with O.o granted the doll master wasn't THAT great... >.> but it left enough of an impression for me to have an overwhelming urge to STAB anyone who thinks having an attic full of dolls is a fantastic idea.
i thought the stop-motion effect was pretty terrible towards the end, but fuck i don't EVER want to see that anywhere else other than on-screen.
sigh, we should've watched ice age 2 instead and everyone would've gone home happy and satisfied with a sufficient dosage of family-fun humor!
tomorrow is always another night :P
today, the world's two biggest chickens (namely calvin and i :p) and friend (i can't spell his name so i don't really feel like butchering it to death, sorry! ;/) went to watch takashi shimizu's reincarnation (rinne) -_- yes, the very same director who orchestrated and basked in the whole circus of ju-on/grudge fame.
reincarnation is basically about a film crew remaking a tragedy that happened some few years back which involved a mad doctor killing people off in some godforsakenly isolated hotel up in the mountains. shoot begins, funky stuff happen and we get to see the infamous little female child ghost (in long black hair of course) EVERY j-horror movie must have.
in all, the movie sucked.
S U C K E D.
as calvin so delicately put it, our iqs dropped marginally after sitting through 95 minutes of (massive random spoilers ahead, don't read if you're planning on, for any reason at all, watching this show sometime in the near future) cheap thrills, a looping theme song, a non-believable and unforgivingly UGLY doll, resident evil zombie wannabes and a pseudo sixth sense-ish ending ;/
don't get me wrong, ju-on and its american evil twin scared me shitless... enough to cause hyperventilation, re-affirmation of faith in the church at sonic speed and possibly an instant coma if the day comes that i will be ever so unlucky as to meet up with a certain lady in white crawling down my stairs -_-
shivering as i walked into the theatre, i sat down expecting the same dosage of chilling uneasiness ala ju-on that would linger on even once after the movie was over...
SUCH a disappointment.
well, to be honest, the concepts of reincarnation, dormant memories and lost/old souls are very fascinating... do you ever wonder? if you were someone else in the past? ^^; what happens if you recall a set of memories that aren't yours? hmm.
i suppose there was some sort of cruel intellectual ethics lesson to be learnt in the movie, especially once towards the end, the sole survivor (of the "actual" murders) more or less mentioned that the doctor basically gutted everyone like squealing pigs as an "experiment" O.o shame on you scientists and the lengths you'd go to in the pursuit of knowledge! :P
anyway, but when the lead actress goes into a state of mindfuck and everyone does the whole cgi morph effect into their former selves AND their broken limbs start shaming jim henson and his puppet masters, there is something REALLY WRONG with the show.
the only cheap thrill that came out of this movie was the distorted and horrific looking doll.
how on mother nature's green earth could you possibly get something like that for you kid?
seriously.
at least the doll in "the doll master" by yong-ki jeong was more believably as something you'd actually want your kid to hold at night and cuddle to sleep with O.o granted the doll master wasn't THAT great... >.> but it left enough of an impression for me to have an overwhelming urge to STAB anyone who thinks having an attic full of dolls is a fantastic idea.
i thought the stop-motion effect was pretty terrible towards the end, but fuck i don't EVER want to see that anywhere else other than on-screen.
sigh, we should've watched ice age 2 instead and everyone would've gone home happy and satisfied with a sufficient dosage of family-fun humor!
tomorrow is always another night :P
Labels: rant
streamyx@home
Friday, April 14, 2006
short and sweet update :)
I HAVE STREAMYX!
and wtf, i paid rm88 for the guy to stick a cable from the modem to my lappie... O.o
that barely takes 30 seconds O.o this is excluding whatever additional charges tmnet is going to bill me -_- fiddlesticks!
wtf! how is this even compulsory? there was NO OPTION when i registered to include or exclude the modem installation (only whether i wanted the modem or not, pricks)! what kind of installation is that?!
it doesn't take a rocket scientist to configure my lappie to connect to streamyx.
soooo ripped off :/
heck, i want a job that pays rm88/30s -_-
anyway...
oh my sis is pissed at me because she thinks i gave her blog site out to the folks :P lol omg it's so not my fault!
it's called google woman :p
sucks to be you if you left your blogger nav bar on bwahaha ;D
that being said, for shits and giggle, i've decided to link her xD
short and sweet update :)
I HAVE STREAMYX!
and wtf, i paid rm88 for the guy to stick a cable from the modem to my lappie... O.o
that barely takes 30 seconds O.o this is excluding whatever additional charges tmnet is going to bill me -_- fiddlesticks!
wtf! how is this even compulsory? there was NO OPTION when i registered to include or exclude the modem installation (only whether i wanted the modem or not, pricks)! what kind of installation is that?!
it doesn't take a rocket scientist to configure my lappie to connect to streamyx.
soooo ripped off :/
heck, i want a job that pays rm88/30s -_-
anyway...
oh my sis is pissed at me because she thinks i gave her blog site out to the folks :P lol omg it's so not my fault!
it's called google woman :p
sucks to be you if you left your blogger nav bar on bwahaha ;D
that being said, for shits and giggle, i've decided to link her xD
tmnet streamyx vs. nekomatta
Monday, April 10, 2006
as much as i DETEST streamyx, my current state of addiction/work depends on the piece of shit they call broadband.
so, i'm here trying to register a line at home because mom's getting all pissy i have to come to the office at night to do work (and multitask with wow in windowed mode ;))
and what do i get?! a javascript error -_-
not discouraged, i dial the ever-so-helpful streamyx support line and watch the walls around me crumble to ashes from decay while i wait on hold for someone to help me.
the nice lady over the phone who probably doesn't know what's going on, puts me on hold again to have a nice chat with her supervisor. her supervisor tells her to tell me to try again tomorrow.
nice lady: oh my supervisor says it's probably some form error where you've submitted the form but we probably didn't get the right details. for example, if you requested a modem, it probably didn't go through as one and your package might be registered as one without a modem.
what the fuck?
it's a scripting error. look into it. fix it! SOMETHING!
don't tell me to try tomorrow because chances are it still won't work because it's an argument error (some string not being passed over blah blah blah)
so feeling a little rattled, i squint at the firefox tab, the error message and ponder...
since malaysia is pretty much technologically backwards (hah, all you fuckers using internet explorer can kiss my fat ass... and don't even begin bitching about why your computer might explode one day), why not try using ie to fill out the form?
turns out, it really is a browser issue.
how STUPID are you to code your forms so that it's only compatible with ie and not ffox? or any other browsers in general?
for fuck's sake the form doesn't even look the same in both the browsers.
who coded that piece of shit?
does NOBODY in this damn country worry about cross-browser/platform or compatibility issues at all? standards? quality control? testing? no?
is everyone so hung up on being "flashy" that you can't comprehend (or refuse to) a simple thing like ACCESSIBILITY?
fuck your flash/dom/dhtml bullshit.
get the basics then worry about being fancy.
say it with me: form and function goes hand in hand.
so... i decided to write an email to streamyx, knowing full well that i'll probably NOT get a reply:
Dear Help Support at Streamyx,
I am aware that you probably do not reply to any emails at all.
However, I would like to point out, as a future subscriber to Streamyx, I am TERRIBLY disappointed that your Online Registration form scripting is not web compatible with other browsers besides Internet Explorer.
This incompatibility has caused both your Help Support line and I much grief trying to discover what was wrong. Sure, your audience may very well use Internet Explorer in general, but please for the love of God and whatever is holy and dear to you, cater to the needs of the rest of the population who do not want to be infected with viruses coming from Internet Explorer as well.
Thank you for your time (or lack of).
Regards,
nekomatta
as it stands: tmnet streamyx 1 nekomatta 0
if this goes on, my score is going to hit negative values :/
as much as i DETEST streamyx, my current state of addiction/work depends on the piece of shit they call broadband.
so, i'm here trying to register a line at home because mom's getting all pissy i have to come to the office at night to do work (and multitask with wow in windowed mode ;))
and what do i get?! a javascript error -_-
not discouraged, i dial the ever-so-helpful streamyx support line and watch the walls around me crumble to ashes from decay while i wait on hold for someone to help me.
the nice lady over the phone who probably doesn't know what's going on, puts me on hold again to have a nice chat with her supervisor. her supervisor tells her to tell me to try again tomorrow.
nice lady: oh my supervisor says it's probably some form error where you've submitted the form but we probably didn't get the right details. for example, if you requested a modem, it probably didn't go through as one and your package might be registered as one without a modem.
what the fuck?
it's a scripting error. look into it. fix it! SOMETHING!
don't tell me to try tomorrow because chances are it still won't work because it's an argument error (some string not being passed over blah blah blah)
so feeling a little rattled, i squint at the firefox tab, the error message and ponder...
since malaysia is pretty much technologically backwards (hah, all you fuckers using internet explorer can kiss my fat ass... and don't even begin bitching about why your computer might explode one day), why not try using ie to fill out the form?
turns out, it really is a browser issue.
how STUPID are you to code your forms so that it's only compatible with ie and not ffox? or any other browsers in general?
for fuck's sake the form doesn't even look the same in both the browsers.
who coded that piece of shit?
does NOBODY in this damn country worry about cross-browser/platform or compatibility issues at all? standards? quality control? testing? no?
is everyone so hung up on being "flashy" that you can't comprehend (or refuse to) a simple thing like ACCESSIBILITY?
fuck your flash/dom/dhtml bullshit.
get the basics then worry about being fancy.
say it with me: form and function goes hand in hand.
so... i decided to write an email to streamyx, knowing full well that i'll probably NOT get a reply:
Dear Help Support at Streamyx,
I am aware that you probably do not reply to any emails at all.
However, I would like to point out, as a future subscriber to Streamyx, I am TERRIBLY disappointed that your Online Registration form scripting is not web compatible with other browsers besides Internet Explorer.
This incompatibility has caused both your Help Support line and I much grief trying to discover what was wrong. Sure, your audience may very well use Internet Explorer in general, but please for the love of God and whatever is holy and dear to you, cater to the needs of the rest of the population who do not want to be infected with viruses coming from Internet Explorer as well.
Thank you for your time (or lack of).
Regards,
nekomatta
as it stands: tmnet streamyx 1 nekomatta 0
if this goes on, my score is going to hit negative values :/
saturday night rendezvous
Sunday, April 02, 2006
it's 4:10am but i'm trying to make a habit of posting on a more regular basis ^^;
that way people know i'm still alive and well <3
however, i will make this short and sweet since i'm about to collapse and one of the things i would like to avoid waking up with is the keyboard face ;)
it was a typical saturday night and again we ended up bowling xD
however, we went to the cosmic bowl at midvalley this time, only because one utama had a smashing hack to their electrical power supply in the new wing around the time we decided to meet up O.o
the cosmic bowl was not too bad. to be honest, it was my first time there xD and hrm, what can i say?
it was dark with lanes that were sparsely lit with electric gas blue neon lights, psychadelic glow-in-the-dark bowling balls, disturbingly warm and limp rental shoes and *cough* unforgivingly BAD techno music -_-
thankfully, it's the excellent company that makes all the terrible things in your surrounding not matter ^^; it was boy's team (boy, mei, cina and chris) against our team (kevin, joo, pau and i) and yeahhhhh, they won by a landslide xD let's just uhm, say i was lucky to get over 20 the 2nd round? lol :p
ppfftt it wasn't really a competition ;) from where i'm standing, it's affordable anger management; one frame for every day i've been home since march 14th ^^;
sorry, no pictures this time ;/
my charger is still on its way, heh :p
believe me, i'm counting the seconds and twiddling my thumbs as i go till the day my lappie arrives :D i'm so dependent on technology it scares me lol :/
omg, and on the way to sri hartamas after leaving midvalley we passed by packs and packs of mat rempets. ok, i'm not sure where the term was coined but it was cina who introduced it to us (with much annoyance i might add ;)) mat rempets are basically a group of people on their motorbikes, swarming and circling the highways/roads in huge packs.
where do they go?
the fuck if i know -_-
so anyway, we passed by packs of them, rather evenly spread out waiting at different sections of the highway. hmm, something is going down tonight ;x
seriously though...
could this be more of an annoying past time?!
WHAT THE FUCK is wrong with you people? do you need one beemer to run over your sorry ass parade of redundancy before it smacks you in the head that it's not entirely healthy to move in huge packs on highways with other vehicles about?
and it's not like the majority of them are flashing off sexy looking crotch rockets. take your kapcai and go park it some place hidden like in your backside. revving a kapcai while riding past a mamak stall only makes you retarded.
for the love of god and whatever else you find holy and dear, less attention whoring and air pollution please O.o do us all a favor and go severe the delicate line your lives are hanging on instead of putting other people on the road in danger.
eck, oh my... so much for this being short and sweet ;p
it's 4:10am but i'm trying to make a habit of posting on a more regular basis ^^;
that way people know i'm still alive and well <3
however, i will make this short and sweet since i'm about to collapse and one of the things i would like to avoid waking up with is the keyboard face ;)
it was a typical saturday night and again we ended up bowling xD
however, we went to the cosmic bowl at midvalley this time, only because one utama had a smashing hack to their electrical power supply in the new wing around the time we decided to meet up O.o
the cosmic bowl was not too bad. to be honest, it was my first time there xD and hrm, what can i say?
it was dark with lanes that were sparsely lit with electric gas blue neon lights, psychadelic glow-in-the-dark bowling balls, disturbingly warm and limp rental shoes and *cough* unforgivingly BAD techno music -_-
thankfully, it's the excellent company that makes all the terrible things in your surrounding not matter ^^; it was boy's team (boy, mei, cina and chris) against our team (kevin, joo, pau and i) and yeahhhhh, they won by a landslide xD let's just uhm, say i was lucky to get over 20 the 2nd round? lol :p
ppfftt it wasn't really a competition ;) from where i'm standing, it's affordable anger management; one frame for every day i've been home since march 14th ^^;
sorry, no pictures this time ;/
my charger is still on its way, heh :p
believe me, i'm counting the seconds and twiddling my thumbs as i go till the day my lappie arrives :D i'm so dependent on technology it scares me lol :/
omg, and on the way to sri hartamas after leaving midvalley we passed by packs and packs of mat rempets. ok, i'm not sure where the term was coined but it was cina who introduced it to us (with much annoyance i might add ;)) mat rempets are basically a group of people on their motorbikes, swarming and circling the highways/roads in huge packs.
where do they go?
the fuck if i know -_-
so anyway, we passed by packs of them, rather evenly spread out waiting at different sections of the highway. hmm, something is going down tonight ;x
seriously though...
could this be more of an annoying past time?!
WHAT THE FUCK is wrong with you people? do you need one beemer to run over your sorry ass parade of redundancy before it smacks you in the head that it's not entirely healthy to move in huge packs on highways with other vehicles about?
and it's not like the majority of them are flashing off sexy looking crotch rockets. take your kapcai and go park it some place hidden like in your backside. revving a kapcai while riding past a mamak stall only makes you retarded.
for the love of god and whatever else you find holy and dear, less attention whoring and air pollution please O.o do us all a favor and go severe the delicate line your lives are hanging on instead of putting other people on the road in danger.
eck, oh my... so much for this being short and sweet ;p
Labels: rant
lrt blues and the balitong tango
Friday, March 24, 2006
today for dinner, cina decided to hit up jalan alor. hey, don't look at me. i'm just as clueless as to where that is O.o apparently it's just right behind bintang walk.
so my journey began from the lrt station at kelana jaya ^^; chris and emily abandoned me at the last minute so i had to sit in the lrt by myself and look thoughtful while mentally ticking off the lrt stops ;/
yep, from kelana jaya to klcc is about oh, 40 minutes of being squished between people who just got off work -_-
seriously, i think malaysians have this courtesy problem (once again, if you're ang moh, this does not apply to you :p)! for example: getting off the lrt is a bitch O.o theoretically, the people waiting to get in should stand to the sides, wait for the people leaving the lrt to actually GET OUT of the bloody thing and then proceed in. simple concept yes?
but noooooooooooo!
you have people that rush up to the lrt door as soon as the lrt stops at the platform and literally press their faces up against the bloody door. last i recalled, i don't think malaysia is as technologically advanced so much so that you need a face print recognition to open doors. i hope your hair gets caught and you die a terrible death you impatient bitches.
for fuck's sake, i've been stuck on a train for 40 minutes and (unfortunately) have been sitting next to a big burly guy who makes me cry every time he raises his arms. do you actually think i really want to see your face two inches away from mine when the bloody doors open? you wouldn't too, am i right?
so back the fuck off and let us leave the train without having to touch you.
anyway, after my adventures on the lrt, i met up with chris and emily and we met up with cina who brought us to jalan alor :D
and i'm going to be ambitious and show you the place where we had dinner:
i have no idea what the name of the restaurant is lol O.o
we just sat close enough to keep an eye on cina's car ;x
cina, chris and emily
so we ordered an obnoxiously huge amount of food:
from left to right going clockwise we have grilled chicken wings, hokkien noodles, cantonese fried noodles, balitong, some icky vegetable and grilled stingray xD
even though i'm malaysian, it's a shame to say this is the first time i've ever had balitong O.o and quite possibly the last :P
i have terrible photography skills, so bear with me <3
SO, among the four of us, only chris has the uhm, balitong extraction skill. just means that she sucks really well ;) according to chris, to dislodge the meat, we're supposed to suck the front of the shell, followed by the end and then one big and quick suck up front. oh yes, and you're supposed to do it at an angle to maximize suction potential O.o
i nearly choked on my first balitong from all the sucking -_- and i reckon my face pretty much turned blue in the process of doing so O.o stubborn little fuckers. for every one balitong i ate, another three would be on my plate looking back, mocking my inability to pry them out. i'm going back to my readily opened lala the next time we come here -_-
i even tried blowing instead of sucking, hoping that the TINY piece of shellfish would just pop out and let me eat it O.o seriously.
cina beat me to it though hahaha she's tried everything but taking a hammer to the balitong xD don't you dare laugh, i'd like to see you try without having your eyes bulge out in frustration after the first three minutes :P
in the end, chris still reigns supreme as champion balitong sucker lol although, cina and i did agree that the shorter ones were easier to suck on while chris preferred the longer ones ;) i don't know... i still think it comes out quicker from the shorter ones and from the smaller opening ^^;
today for dinner, cina decided to hit up jalan alor. hey, don't look at me. i'm just as clueless as to where that is O.o apparently it's just right behind bintang walk.
so my journey began from the lrt station at kelana jaya ^^; chris and emily abandoned me at the last minute so i had to sit in the lrt by myself and look thoughtful while mentally ticking off the lrt stops ;/
yep, from kelana jaya to klcc is about oh, 40 minutes of being squished between people who just got off work -_-
seriously, i think malaysians have this courtesy problem (once again, if you're ang moh, this does not apply to you :p)! for example: getting off the lrt is a bitch O.o theoretically, the people waiting to get in should stand to the sides, wait for the people leaving the lrt to actually GET OUT of the bloody thing and then proceed in. simple concept yes?
but noooooooooooo!
you have people that rush up to the lrt door as soon as the lrt stops at the platform and literally press their faces up against the bloody door. last i recalled, i don't think malaysia is as technologically advanced so much so that you need a face print recognition to open doors. i hope your hair gets caught and you die a terrible death you impatient bitches.
for fuck's sake, i've been stuck on a train for 40 minutes and (unfortunately) have been sitting next to a big burly guy who makes me cry every time he raises his arms. do you actually think i really want to see your face two inches away from mine when the bloody doors open? you wouldn't too, am i right?
so back the fuck off and let us leave the train without having to touch you.
anyway, after my adventures on the lrt, i met up with chris and emily and we met up with cina who brought us to jalan alor :D
and i'm going to be ambitious and show you the place where we had dinner:
i have no idea what the name of the restaurant is lol O.o
we just sat close enough to keep an eye on cina's car ;x
cina, chris and emily
so we ordered an obnoxiously huge amount of food:
from left to right going clockwise we have grilled chicken wings, hokkien noodles, cantonese fried noodles, balitong, some icky vegetable and grilled stingray xD
even though i'm malaysian, it's a shame to say this is the first time i've ever had balitong O.o and quite possibly the last :P
i have terrible photography skills, so bear with me <3
SO, among the four of us, only chris has the uhm, balitong extraction skill. just means that she sucks really well ;) according to chris, to dislodge the meat, we're supposed to suck the front of the shell, followed by the end and then one big and quick suck up front. oh yes, and you're supposed to do it at an angle to maximize suction potential O.o
i nearly choked on my first balitong from all the sucking -_- and i reckon my face pretty much turned blue in the process of doing so O.o stubborn little fuckers. for every one balitong i ate, another three would be on my plate looking back, mocking my inability to pry them out. i'm going back to my readily opened lala the next time we come here -_-
i even tried blowing instead of sucking, hoping that the TINY piece of shellfish would just pop out and let me eat it O.o seriously.
cina beat me to it though hahaha she's tried everything but taking a hammer to the balitong xD don't you dare laugh, i'd like to see you try without having your eyes bulge out in frustration after the first three minutes :P
in the end, chris still reigns supreme as champion balitong sucker lol although, cina and i did agree that the shorter ones were easier to suck on while chris preferred the longer ones ;) i don't know... i still think it comes out quicker from the shorter ones and from the smaller opening ^^;
change and perspective
Sunday, March 05, 2006
i am depressed :(
in about one week's time, i'll be on a plane going home to malaysia. for good.
nothing wrong with that right? going home to my friends, family and the oh-so-orgasmic selection of food :D
wrong >.<
i can't even begin to start listing the immensely HUGE list of things i'll miss O.o
biggest change going back home would be the lifestyle i guess. socially, the people *here* are pretty much open-minded and easy-going, which is ALWAYS a good thing :)
but see in malaysia, you still have the pompous stuffed shirts (especially those aunties/uncles from some lost prehistoric era who kepo too fucking much and have egos larger than a supernova explosion) with the mental evolution of a piece of cow manure.
do you people have NOTHING better to do than watch your neighbours' kids go out? and feel the need to question/report to their parents where and who they're going out with? is your life DEVOID of any type of entertainment?
ok, even after factoring the whole asian culture thing, i think you should MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS and if you've got any smack to get off your chest, come talk to me about it.
in short, i'm going to miss my freedom.
don't get me wrong, this has got nothing to do with "losing my roots" :) i see it more as having my privacy being trampled on :)
it's strange that when i go home (or when i have in the past during christmas), people expect me to come home with an american accent. what the fuck? are you serious?
granted i do speak a little differently here as compared to when i'm in malaysia, i'll tell you now that i'm still very attached to my "lah"s, "liao"s, "leh"s, "kua"s and whatever sentence fillers malaysians use.
for those who actually do come home from overseas with the accent: get help.
for example, you grew up in malaysia and you're in australia for one year and you come home wanting to sound like a native australian. ending your sentences with with sing-song "yeah"s and "mate" once in awhile is one thing but laying it on thick for whole conversations is just, ugh O.o
all good if you're talking to your ang moh friends because i'm sure as hell they won't understand the fuck you're talking about in manglish...
but with us?
does that psuedo accent make you feel a little smarter?
don't give me that "oh i'm so used to it" bullshit cause that's all it is, bullshit.
get over yourself, we don't care for your fancy accent and knowing that you only do it to make it seem like you're cooler just makes you look like a retard. comprende?
accents are sexy.
just not your shallow fake one.
i am depressed :(
in about one week's time, i'll be on a plane going home to malaysia. for good.
nothing wrong with that right? going home to my friends, family and the oh-so-orgasmic selection of food :D
wrong >.<
i can't even begin to start listing the immensely HUGE list of things i'll miss O.o
biggest change going back home would be the lifestyle i guess. socially, the people *here* are pretty much open-minded and easy-going, which is ALWAYS a good thing :)
but see in malaysia, you still have the pompous stuffed shirts (especially those aunties/uncles from some lost prehistoric era who kepo too fucking much and have egos larger than a supernova explosion) with the mental evolution of a piece of cow manure.
do you people have NOTHING better to do than watch your neighbours' kids go out? and feel the need to question/report to their parents where and who they're going out with? is your life DEVOID of any type of entertainment?
ok, even after factoring the whole asian culture thing, i think you should MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS and if you've got any smack to get off your chest, come talk to me about it.
in short, i'm going to miss my freedom.
don't get me wrong, this has got nothing to do with "losing my roots" :) i see it more as having my privacy being trampled on :)
it's strange that when i go home (or when i have in the past during christmas), people expect me to come home with an american accent. what the fuck? are you serious?
granted i do speak a little differently here as compared to when i'm in malaysia, i'll tell you now that i'm still very attached to my "lah"s, "liao"s, "leh"s, "kua"s and whatever sentence fillers malaysians use.
for those who actually do come home from overseas with the accent: get help.
for example, you grew up in malaysia and you're in australia for one year and you come home wanting to sound like a native australian. ending your sentences with with sing-song "yeah"s and "mate" once in awhile is one thing but laying it on thick for whole conversations is just, ugh O.o
all good if you're talking to your ang moh friends because i'm sure as hell they won't understand the fuck you're talking about in manglish...
but with us?
does that psuedo accent make you feel a little smarter?
don't give me that "oh i'm so used to it" bullshit cause that's all it is, bullshit.
get over yourself, we don't care for your fancy accent and knowing that you only do it to make it seem like you're cooler just makes you look like a retard. comprende?
accents are sexy.
just not your shallow fake one.
Labels: rant
cult of the ubiquitous high school gangster
Saturday, March 04, 2006
you'd think graduating from tamansea (my *ahem* "notorious" high school in pj, more infamously known for the students who dual-wield parangs for shits and giggles rather than academic excellence) would mean that i'm rather familiar with the nasty little horror stories of blood, gore and rebellion acquainted with the "clans" in school... but i have to admit, i was pretty much a dork in high school so it was pretty entertaining listening to mike and khai seen share their experiences :P
mike: ahahhahahaha
how the hell were you even remotely involved with them?!
really never saw you as the bad boy type ;) hahaahhahaahahahaha
sorry boy, the only ganking i'd see you doing is with your paladin in wow...
oh wait...
paladin dps? ;x ahahhaah
khai seen on the other hand... whoaaaa
after listening to his stories, not sure if i'll be visiting johor any time soon O.o johor seems to be the malaysian sin city (and i'm not talking about vegas kiddies) :P from the broad daylight abductions to 150 km/hr near-kamikaze gas station drive-thrus hahahaha
although, i'm fascinated by all that face bashing you did for the sake of another friend in your clan... so much yee hei ;D i mean, there are times where i do get pissy to the point that i feel an urgent need to pummel something into a messy pulp but i don't exactly go out and do it xD
don't feel too bad though ^^; lionel did it too hahahhahah solo :P
i think he broke some poor chap's kneecaps *cough* but that's another story <3
on another note, as bad as this is going to sound: girls love assholes/bad boy types ;)
so it can't be all THAT bad :x
but yeaaaaaah!
never knew any of you punks were actually involved in the elusive gangster circles hahahaha
i swear to god, malaysians are so obnoxiously loud ahahaha
i'm sure we pretty much pissed off the entire cafe with our crazy discussion, bickering and laughing... so much so that a picture hanging on the wall right behind yip decided to come crashing down, missing his crown by only a hairsbreadth! >.<
luckily nothing happened or the night would've gotten slightly more interesting, the bad way O.o
speaking of crazy...
when i was in taylor's, i didn't (and still don't) understand how some idiots would religiously wake up at 6:00am, drive their less than stellar cars to college and park outside the compound... just to get out of the bloody car and pose by it for the NEXT TWO HOURS and give passerbys the "this is my ride, don't i look cool" smug look -_-
i mean, maybe i can't do it... you know, the whole getting-to-college-before-the-sun-is-even-up ritual because i usually come equipped with a decently high level of grumpiness when i have to wake up at 7:00am to get to college...
HELLO?! are you retarded?? what the fuck are you trying to do?? sell your car??
stop parking your daddy's perdana/putra/gti/wtfwedon'tcare heap up front and stand there like you're posing with the queen's crown jewels.
NOBODY CARES.
you'd think graduating from tamansea (my *ahem* "notorious" high school in pj, more infamously known for the students who dual-wield parangs for shits and giggles rather than academic excellence) would mean that i'm rather familiar with the nasty little horror stories of blood, gore and rebellion acquainted with the "clans" in school... but i have to admit, i was pretty much a dork in high school so it was pretty entertaining listening to mike and khai seen share their experiences :P
mike: ahahhahahaha
how the hell were you even remotely involved with them?!
really never saw you as the bad boy type ;) hahaahhahaahahahaha
sorry boy, the only ganking i'd see you doing is with your paladin in wow...
oh wait...
paladin dps? ;x ahahhaah
khai seen on the other hand... whoaaaa
after listening to his stories, not sure if i'll be visiting johor any time soon O.o johor seems to be the malaysian sin city (and i'm not talking about vegas kiddies) :P from the broad daylight abductions to 150 km/hr near-kamikaze gas station drive-thrus hahahaha
although, i'm fascinated by all that face bashing you did for the sake of another friend in your clan... so much yee hei ;D i mean, there are times where i do get pissy to the point that i feel an urgent need to pummel something into a messy pulp but i don't exactly go out and do it xD
don't feel too bad though ^^; lionel did it too hahahhahah solo :P
i think he broke some poor chap's kneecaps *cough* but that's another story <3
on another note, as bad as this is going to sound: girls love assholes/bad boy types ;)
so it can't be all THAT bad :x
but yeaaaaaah!
never knew any of you punks were actually involved in the elusive gangster circles hahahaha
i swear to god, malaysians are so obnoxiously loud ahahaha
i'm sure we pretty much pissed off the entire cafe with our crazy discussion, bickering and laughing... so much so that a picture hanging on the wall right behind yip decided to come crashing down, missing his crown by only a hairsbreadth! >.<
luckily nothing happened or the night would've gotten slightly more interesting, the bad way O.o
speaking of crazy...
when i was in taylor's, i didn't (and still don't) understand how some idiots would religiously wake up at 6:00am, drive their less than stellar cars to college and park outside the compound... just to get out of the bloody car and pose by it for the NEXT TWO HOURS and give passerbys the "this is my ride, don't i look cool" smug look -_-
i mean, maybe i can't do it... you know, the whole getting-to-college-before-the-sun-is-even-up ritual because i usually come equipped with a decently high level of grumpiness when i have to wake up at 7:00am to get to college...
HELLO?! are you retarded?? what the fuck are you trying to do?? sell your car??
stop parking your daddy's perdana/putra/gti/wtfwedon'tcare heap up front and stand there like you're posing with the queen's crown jewels.
NOBODY CARES.
magic fairy dust
Friday, March 03, 2006
i've got so many things to rant about... i don't even know where to begin...
HOWEVER, i'm in the process of redesigning this blog... no, it's not that the blogger template is bad... it's uh, i just don't want my blog to be mistakened for someone elses at a fleeting glance -_- add that to all the other things i'm supposed to be doing and you have the work ethics of a procrastinator extraordinaire :) at this rate, i'm going to need a miracle (or maybe to just uninstall world of warcraft from my computer) to finish packing by the 11th >.<
i reckon this morning was the last of my flurry sighting days... i mean, i realize this is madison and it can bloody snow in may O.o although, it was rather pretty this morning... i watched in fascination as the flurries delicately landed on the windscreen and almost instantly puddle and coalesce with the surrounding droplets... i'm such a little kid O.o of course... that was this morning. now it's all dirty, slushy and almost as pleasant as watching roads being tarred...
my thoughts are so rampant it's hard to actually keep track of what to write first... it's probably the lack of sleep from the addiction i have xD yep, it's all your fault my eyes look like they got boxed in and that i'm going off in a tangent in EVERYTHING i say. i hope you're happy and that you die in a fire. <3
i was catching up with yees yesterday... and i told her about chris getting surprisingly pissed off the other day... well, i'm such a potty mouth a few random "fuck yous" and "piss offs" are normal... but from chris? the devil has gone ice-skating O.o
but ultimately, yees and i agreed on the fact that we meet the weirdest people while in university... yeah, don't get me started on this... from people who are barely coherent and are even more so a.d.d. than i am to crazy bitches that should've just been drowned at birth... good times :)
well, what doesn't kill me will make me a stronger person...
that or i'll end up in the single-mirrored white box a little more prematurely...
i've got so many things to rant about... i don't even know where to begin...
HOWEVER, i'm in the process of redesigning this blog... no, it's not that the blogger template is bad... it's uh, i just don't want my blog to be mistakened for someone elses at a fleeting glance -_- add that to all the other things i'm supposed to be doing and you have the work ethics of a procrastinator extraordinaire :) at this rate, i'm going to need a miracle (or maybe to just uninstall world of warcraft from my computer) to finish packing by the 11th >.<
i reckon this morning was the last of my flurry sighting days... i mean, i realize this is madison and it can bloody snow in may O.o although, it was rather pretty this morning... i watched in fascination as the flurries delicately landed on the windscreen and almost instantly puddle and coalesce with the surrounding droplets... i'm such a little kid O.o of course... that was this morning. now it's all dirty, slushy and almost as pleasant as watching roads being tarred...
my thoughts are so rampant it's hard to actually keep track of what to write first... it's probably the lack of sleep from the addiction i have xD yep, it's all your fault my eyes look like they got boxed in and that i'm going off in a tangent in EVERYTHING i say. i hope you're happy and that you die in a fire. <3
i was catching up with yees yesterday... and i told her about chris getting surprisingly pissed off the other day... well, i'm such a potty mouth a few random "fuck yous" and "piss offs" are normal... but from chris? the devil has gone ice-skating O.o
but ultimately, yees and i agreed on the fact that we meet the weirdest people while in university... yeah, don't get me started on this... from people who are barely coherent and are even more so a.d.d. than i am to crazy bitches that should've just been drowned at birth... good times :)
well, what doesn't kill me will make me a stronger person...
that or i'll end up in the single-mirrored white box a little more prematurely...
Labels: rant
shards of glass
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
i'm sitting here at work amidst my video renders and the passing chatter of the other consultants, marvelling at how obnoxiously ignorant some females can get... (btw, if you are reading this, you will probably know by line five that i'm talking about your sorry behind :))
not to come off as a sour puss, but ditching your friends and severing all ties for a guy IS rather tasteless... especially when a few months before you were ready to sacrifice your first-born for the sake of friendship... gogo girlfriendpower?
oh oh, and did i forget to mention?
there is a reason why i don't return your emails or even attempt to send mail to you despite the little messages being passed around to me: i don't like you anymore.
so stop trying to salvage the bond you broke before with false enthusiasm and feigned interest because I DON'T GIVE A FUCK.
i'm sitting here at work amidst my video renders and the passing chatter of the other consultants, marvelling at how obnoxiously ignorant some females can get... (btw, if you are reading this, you will probably know by line five that i'm talking about your sorry behind :))
not to come off as a sour puss, but ditching your friends and severing all ties for a guy IS rather tasteless... especially when a few months before you were ready to sacrifice your first-born for the sake of friendship... gogo girlfriendpower?
oh oh, and did i forget to mention?
there is a reason why i don't return your emails or even attempt to send mail to you despite the little messages being passed around to me: i don't like you anymore.
so stop trying to salvage the bond you broke before with false enthusiasm and feigned interest because I DON'T GIVE A FUCK.
Labels: rant
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previously on nekomatta.com
timeless bitchings
nekomatta is...
Sean Sean Tan;
sarcastic wordsmith, dirty in oh-so-many ways, fun-loving IE-hating CSS worshiping markup "engineer", anime-styled arm flailing expressive communicator, proudly self-initiated member of the cult of milk and caffeine, snotty pink crayon lover, tree hugging hippy organic designer, pole dancer wannabe, swing-a-ling lindy hopper, rabid arcane mage/bitchin' disc priest/annoying resto druid--sometimes spazzy, often giggly, always loud.
20% sugar, 80% kink.