Thursday, May 31, 2007

Power Puff Boys

Today I went to the branch office of the country’s main telecommunications provider to make some enquiries. I sat there with my back facing the counters while waiting for my number. Mom was looking at the people behind the counters telling me how slow they are at their work. I sat with my ass facing them for a reason. I don’t want to know how slow they are. It will just make my blood boil. And I definitely didn’t need commentaries fed into my ears either. Tick tock tick tock. My number is still not called. Only one counter is open for enquiries and that 3032 two guys there are taking forever. (I was 3036) I can’t imagine how long they might take to chat up a girl. Maybe they’ll keep on going until she gets old and her breasts sag.

That’s it! I said. I’m gonna…I’m gonna…

Just sit down and wait patiently. Hah! Were you thinking I was going to explode? Did you think that I screamed at the top of my lungs, and took home the drama queen award? Dream on. I did nothing. I’d rather take home the composure award. Patience, my friend. Patience. Did you not learn that in school?

With my butt nicely rooted to the sofa (thank god it’s cushion!) I stared out the door. A woman walks in. The middle-aged guard opens the door. He asks her what she wants. A man walks in. The middle-aged guard opens the door and asks what he wants too. Middle-aged guard finishes his shift and young, bald guard takes over. A woman walks in. Young, bald guard pretends to be blind. And mute. For the rest of his shift, use your imagination.

I continue to observe. A tall man walks in and turns to his friend. He gives the “Hey, how’s it coming?” gesture with his head. His friend flashes him his queue number. Tall Man pats his friend on the back and gives him the “Since we’ll have to wait till the next lifetime, why don’t we go out?” look. They give each other an approving nod and leave. They didn’t exactly leave actually. They simply walked out and stood by the glass door. Both start to smoke a fag. With the cigarette in his mouth, Tall Man starts mumbling to his friend. His friend, who also has a cigarette in his mouth, mumbles back. They both laugh.

Ladies and gentlemen, that was the art of puffing. Do it like the pro. Man, I wanted to say faggots with their faggotry but the definition isn’t right. I might only confuse you up with my own language. But it’s just so fitting don’t you think? Faggots smoking fags doing their faggotry speaking faganese.

CSI: ...morning...*yawn*

Why the heck am I up so early!!!! Thanks to an sms I received now I can’t seem to go back to sleep. Weird. I’m never hyperactive in the mornings. Not at 8:30 at least. Jeez, my friend wakes up that early? What the heck for?! Okay maybe she has to work. Totally acceptable.

Maybe it’s because the sms was about having to change dates for our trip and now I need to talk about it. I need to. I need to. I need to. We all have the obsessive-compulsive side in us. I cannot leave matters hanging in the air with no specific plans/dates/whatever. I love to plan. But not actually carrying it out. I’m still trying to break free from GoP you know. Hah I’m joking. When it comes to play, GoP is non existent.

Alright, alright! This morning’s topic is CSI. I stayed up watching CSI until 3:30 last night, all the more reason to not wake up at 8:30!! Actually I stay up late everynight. Sheesh! Don’t tell! For those who panicked when they found out Grissom was gone, worry not, he’s back, and they killed off Keppler. They literally killed him! Kill the substitute when he’s not needed anymore! Cliché. No? I don’t know. I can’t think. I just feel that way. His death happened last week but I was just too lazy to celebrate it here. It’s still not too late to do that. Cheers to Bruckheimer for making us think he’s turning CSI into another Miami. But it’s only a trick! Phew! Trying to test who’s loyal to CSI, eh?

Last night’s was fantastic. The miniature serial killer is back! We all thought he died but nope, they got the wrong person. That was another Bruckheimer trick. Do you think I’m giving him too much credit? Maybe nothing was ever his idea. They made you think like the miniature killer story is over. The end. Full stop. I was skeptical about it. That episode had a shitty ending. Vegas is not shitty.

The miniature killer series got me on tenterhooks. I wanted to know who the killer was but I don’t want to know. I don’t want it to end yet. Then of course the episode came where this idiot goes out admitting to the crimes and shoots himself. What the…!? That’s where they made you think it’s over. I was like, “But I thought this miniature killer thing is what Season 7 is all about!” And from there it just got shittier one episode after another. Grissom leaves, Keppler comes, and I wish he’s dead. I shouldn’t be so cruel. They killed him in the most shameful manner for a cop. No, they didn’t hang him upside down butt naked. They made him a criminal. I feel for him. I really do. But welcome back, Grissom!

Anyway last night’s was a blast. You should watch it if you haven’t. They fell riiiggght into the killer’s trap. A mockery. A meticulously crafted mockery. I will not spoil it for you by writing about it. Watch it yourself. *sheesh* I’m actually just lazy.

After Vegas I thought I might want to continue with Miami. After all it was only 3 AM. Yup, they changed the time again, making me miss the first half of they-killed-Keppler episode. And so I did continue watching. They still can’t act. Three words. Miami is shit. You know what? I’m not even gonna talk about it.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

I shall prevail!

I hope I’m learning my lesson on why I must never procrastinate. No more procrastination! Dilly-dallying is bad. It’s an extremely dangerous chronic condition. And I must fight it. With all my might. I must. It’s like fighting cancer. I’m sure of that. Cancer survivors or patients please spare me from your merciless barrage of words. I trust that you can counter-attack in the most fashionable way possible, so there’s no need to show it to me. I may not know how cancer is like but I suffer from procrastinat-itis. It’s just as bad. Ok that’s a joke. I don’t want cancer just to prove that. I don’t want cancer just to prove anything at all.

God of Procrastination has got me under his thumb! I had a plan to do something, a deadline to meet (today!) and I totally did not follow it through. I’ll always have a reason not to do something that needs to be done. I’m so good at delaying tactics, I find it hard to believe. I actually have a talent! Anybody wanna hire GoP’s right hand? I seriously need a cure from procrastinate-itis! GoP, you win this round! But I’m taking the last laugh.


That’s it. I’m tying a red ribbon around my head just like how Rambo does and I’m going all out to fight this deadly disease. And I shall prevail!

*lifts up machine gun* God of Procrastination, eat this!


And this!

Owh, that’s heavy. I think I might fall if I move another inch.

I think I’ll just launch one of these:


Yes, I’ll initiate the plan in June. Perfect. Just one day away. Brand new month, brand new me. Ok wait, maybe I should see if I can find a red ribbon first. Where is it? I swear I have one. Oh no. Now how can I fight GoP?

I'm blogging...

...because I need to push the previous post lower. I can't accept entering spaceparade and see a face staring right back at me.

From the title you might have thought that I'm being tagged to do some meme. Nope. Reasons for blogging? Been there done that. Not doing it again.

Instead, I'll talk about guys of my generation. One word. Sissy. I know some guys who can't ride a bike for 5 kilometers and would rather have the girls fetch them with cars. Oh come on! My dad is more than half a century old and he can ride a motorbike anywhere! You guys are a mere two decades old. What, you're afraid your balls might get squashed? Or flatten? Flatten is funny! Hahahah! I'm laughing at my own joke. But it's OK coz it's not lame. We don't serve lame stuff here. Oops, wrong personal pronoun. I'm somehow inclined to saying 'we' in cases like this. Maybe it's just me and my split personalities talking.

Ok WE think this is long enough. WE don't have to have a face staring at US when WE open the page now.

That is totally weird. We're just going to stick with 'I' now. Ok bye bye.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Wonderful

I had to wake up before noon today, so it was probably best that I slept earlier than usual last night. Would you believe me if I told you I did?

I didn’t. I stayed up watching TV like I always do, but there was nothing interesting on. So I switched to Celestial, a channel I sorta forgot about, (but still paying for it!) and they were showing Twins Effect. There’s no reason for me to watch the movie again if not for this eye candy:

Yummy!

After watching the movie I thought I should move my ass and do something productive before going to bed. You know, make myself feel a little contented before calling it a day. I went into my room, turned on the lights, only for the lights turn off by itself. The hell…? Did the light tube just blow up? Oh no wait, it’s darker than usual. It’s very, very dark. Then it hit me. It’s an electricity cut-off! I looked out the window and the whole damned area is pitch-black, except for one idiot who was waving his high-powered flashlight at another apartment block 3 miles away. Imagine disco lights. Yea, yea, we know you have a damned flashlight. Some sicko will always do that. Some sicko who’s still awake at 3 am.

Well, there goes my plan for something productive. I only have 25% of battery life left for my laptop and I tell you, she’s one hell of a battery drainer. I’ve decided. My laptop shall be a she. I hope I remember that. Anyhow, I have to do something productive! I need to. So I carried on anyway with what’s left of the battery. And yea, that’s it. End of my story. Electricity returned, I didn’t have to sleep choking my own sweat, and yeah, that’s about it.

Of course I had a great dream, but no, it wasn’t of Edison Chen. I was vacationing with a stranger who was not strange at all in my dream. We were staying in a chalet overlooking a wonderful, wonderful blue sea. It’s really, really blue. It’s bluer than any blue sea, you feel like you want to die in it. And then there’s the wonderful cool breeze too. I lay on the wooden floor and the stranger came up and called me. I opened my eyes and there I see my mom.

“Wake up, it’s already 11:30AM.”

Wonderful.


P.S: Did you know how long it took me to get a decent photo of him? (the guy above just in case you don't remember) Long. I ended up copying one from his friendster account. And it's not those magazine cover type too. Whatever. If I go on, my tipsiness will get a better of me. I opened a bottle of red muscat I bought, which I had forgotten about and mom said she'll drink it with me. Now she says it smells too much like alcohol. :/ Great. Cheer me on while I finish a whole bottle of wine by myself. And this one incidentally can get me tipsy after only a glass.

Monday, May 28, 2007

Late nights...

…make you say stupid things! Oh my god! What got into me last night!? This is embarrassing! What kind of a blush-making, toe-curling thing did I say last night? No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.

If I could only blend into the wall right now. You can’t see me, and you didn’t read that. No…. you didn’t…. Trust me.

Deleting it won’t be ethical so I’ll just…I’ll just blog blog blog and it’ll soon be buried in the archives! Yes that’s what I’ll do. Plan initiating now!

Woke up late today. Thanks to staying up all night spewing shit. Work was 9:30AM and I woke up at 9:07. But I made it in time. In fact, I reached there at 9:25AM. Hurray to myself! Now I feel tired, like I’m going to faint anytime soon but I can’t sleep. I need to tell the whole world not to read what I wrote last night. So guys, don’t. I mean it.

On the more serious side, I don’t really feel like shit anymore after doing what I did last night. (Hah! It’s now like a thing to say)

Here’s a screenshot I captured from Honey and Clover sometime ago. It’s always Honey and Clover with me. Heh heh. What to do…It’s my favourite anime. It’s the one anime I can really relate to. You should try watching it.



I guess we will forever be searching for something. Forever be chasing that ‘something’ that we may or may not know of. And we’re doing it everyday whether we realize it or not. Life is but a never-ending search.

Impasse Part II


Continued from Impasse Part 1:

The next morning, we went back to the school and I was officially free. You see, this scholarship has a rule. Once you take it, you must carry on with it, or pay for the entire course fee whether you sat for the entire thing or not. I would have to pay hundreds of thousands. It was a risk I could never take.

So I went back to Form 6, had a great time there – it was one of my best schooling years – and I got out with straight As again. Before that all I had in mind was, get your As, think about the rest later. I got the As I wanted but I still haven’t found my way. I was again, back to where I started. The same thing happened, after some serious talks with my dad, my first choice was again pharmacy. But this time I wasn’t applying for a scholarship. It was just an application to the public uni. I didn’t want to feel like I’m bonded to something. I had engineering as my second choice, although I didn’t feel anything for it as well. My love, that time, was archaeology. But it was something I couldn’t and was not able to take up, for reasons I shall not say here. I had also applied for engineering in NUS (I was a physics student, therefore don’t qualify to apply for pharmacy in Singapore). I got my first choice in NUS and was just waiting for the result of my application to the public uni. That night came, and you guessed right, I got pharmacy. Again. People were congratulating me and everyone was happy, except myself. Of course, this time being 19, I was mature enough to think of others and to take responsibility in assuring I have a good future ahead of me, a good future as defined by the norm. So I took it. A friend said I was meant to do it. It was my fate. Maybe.

Right now I’m two years into the course, and no I don’t have happy stories to tell you. I don’t exactly have sad ones either. I’m just drifting around in my so-called ‘life’. I go by semester after semester, attending classes and day dreaming in it, studying for exams and taking it, and plan great things to do for my holidays only to end up wasting it. And right now I feel like shit. This is what holidays do to you. It’s the time when you sit down and start to reflect on your life. So how far have I gone? Hardly anywhere. I was supposed to do great things this holiday. I was supposed to gain a few skills, learn new things, and surprise somebody about how good I am at doing that something. But I’m still the same old drifter. I’ve gone nowhere.

Now don’t you guys come telling me to be optimistic or stuff like, “go out and do whatever you wanted to do right now!” You and I both know that it’s easier said than done. I would not be sitting here typing this if I had ‘gone out and do whatever I wanted to do’. So I really don’t need to hear that.

The thing going around in my head now is, “How will I be years from now? Will I still drift about? Will I have found my inner self, the Me that I wasn’t sure if I had lost or never knew before? Will I finally be happy, be in peace?” I shudder when I think of it.

Impasse Part I


I have a feeling this is going to be a long one and probably something I may not want to publish at the end. But if I do publish it, – well, if you’re reading this, it means I’ve published it, duh – you don’t have to go through with the whole thing. It’s just me, my life, my shit, some serious stuff that could bore you to death, etc, well you get the idea.

I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve been feeling like shit for the past few days, except for yesterday (mainly because I was working and laughing away with my colleagues to realize I feel like shit). You might ask, “What does shit feel like?”, “How does it feel to feel like shit?”, “Define shit.”, or whatever if you’re trying to be funny, but I only have one answer for you. Similes don’t necessarily make sense. There’s one ‘as stupid as a sloth’. Sloths are stupid? I thought they’re just plain lazy. But toads, and lobsters, and pigs are lazy though, simile wise. What’s so lazy about them? They certainly don’t look it. I know people usually go “You’re as lazy as a pig!” but in my humble opinion, they’re always busy eating, and making sure they’re dirty enough for the smelliest pig award. That’s nowhere close to lazy. Koalas could qualify though. And then there’s the ‘as fabulous as Aladdin’s lamp’ one. Whoever came up with that!? Can’t you draw better analogies? If you can say Aladdin’s lamp, I sure can say Doraemon. As fabulous as Doraemon. One word settles it all. And Doraemon doesn’t limit your wishes to only three. At this very moment you might be contemplating starting a debate with me on how the Aladdin’s lamp is supposedly fabulous or whatever, I say go ahead! I don’t mind reading comments and spewing nonsense at them, anything, as long as it doesn’t make me feel like shit. Oh yeah. That was the topic today. What was I thinking, straying off to similes?

So yeah, I feel like shit. The day when I was suddenly overwhelmed by the blues, I was sitting in front of the computer. Nothing that was there for me to do seemed right. So I thought perhaps if I go read a book or something, just get away from the PC, I might feel better. Pooh. That didn’t help alright. It just made me think. Books make you think. You open it and instead of reading the pages, you start to read your own mind. I started asking myself, “Why do I feel like shit?” as much as the answer would hurt, it was reality. My life, literally, has reached a standstill. It has completely stopped. In fact when I come to think of it, it’s been like that for years. It’s been like that since I entered university.

In everybody’s life, there comes a point when a decision must be made. A road must be taken. I got a taste of that when I was 17. Back when I was in upper secondary (16&17) I was usually somewhere at the top of the class. I even scored straight A1s for the public exam. Now before you say I’m puffing myself up, I have to say this is something rather the opposite. Me being able to say this here is implying that I’ve gone over that phase. The phase where you would rather stay quite about things you’ve achieved for fear of losing them. Yes, I’m quite superstitious when it comes to this. I’d tell my proud parents not to spread the news. I’m not good with praises anyway. By saying I’ve gone pass that phase doesn’t mean I’ve turned into a stiff-necked bitch or that I don’t believe in this idea anymore, I still do, but it’s just that I’m now ready to tell the world the what little achievements (and failures) I had in my pocket.

Having 9 A1s in your grip is nothing these days compared to back then. People are scoring 17 A1s now, goodness gracious! Which makes me doubt the whole of our present education system. I doubted the education system of my time too. There was no way I could’ve gotten straight As! It was just too bizarre. I don’t regard myself as an intelligent person, if you might ask. And I especially hated it when people come up to you and start telling you how smart you are, in a fake way. Well, it felt fake to me. I got that a lot. I’m not smart. Please don’t say I am.

Right, I was saying I reached a point in life where I had to make a decision. I was 17. I had to choose the road which I was about to take. My dad had this dream of me being a doctor but I hated it. I hated the fact that just because you’ve got the As you’ve got to be a doctor. People are going into medicine for all the wrong reasons! I fought back when he tried to persuade me to take up medicine. We later reached a compromise whereby I would take up pharmacy instead. Didn’t really liked the idea but I applied for a scholarship anyway, my first choice being pharmacy and my second being science (there were very limited choices) hoping that I could study astronomy or something. Passed the first stage, got to the interview stage, which was the last stage. I prayed everyday after that, that I would get my second choice. But I got my first. Everyone was happy for me, except me.

I’m not ashamed to tell you this; I cried myself to sleep every night until the night before the orientation. Everyday I would have talks with my dad and he would encourage me to take it up. It’s your golden opportunity, he would say. You’ll get to study overseas and it’ll all be paid for! The orientation day came, and I reluctantly went. All the way I tried to hold back my tears. It was a really difficult time for me. I could not accept my perception of how a large part of my life was going to be like. I went through the orientation up till evening when I told myself I couldn’t take it anymore. I called my dad up and told him I’m pulling out. He and my uncle rushed to me and a senior student advised me, telling me just how lucky I was to be there. My definition of lucky was not quite the same. That night I left that place, crying all the way back to my uncle’s place because I could feel everybody’s sorrow on my shoulders. I knew my dad was heartbroken. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, dad.

While we were stuck in the traffic jam, typical of cities, I called up my friend who was two years older. He already had a taste of uni life and clearly knew more about scholarships and what not, than I am. I had to call him because I needed to know if I went back home and continued with Form 6, would I still qualify for the scholarship after that. He said yes. He said that if I got straight As in Form 6, the world would be mine. I would be the king. He really said that, I’m not exaggerating. And what he said was what I delivered to my dad as a form of relief for him. I had to make sure that he didn’t have to worry for me. Letting him know that I can have chances like this again was to take the load off his mind and to buy myself time. I told myself that night. After I finish my 1 ½ years of Form 6, I will know which road is it that I want. I must know. That night was full of lies I told myself. That night, I felt emancipated. I felt all the heavy burdens I had to carry suddenly lifted. I tell you, if it wasn’t for gravity, I could be flying higher than anybody in the world. That night onwards, I was free. I was free for another 1 ½ years.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Hypermart Hypernews

I went to the hypermarket (the one I went to yesterday) a few days ago with some relatives and my mom. That second time I went there since its opening (it’s a new place) the lady at the counter made some mistakes scanning the stuffs we bought. First she mixed up the stuff my aunt bought with the stuff my mom bought. So she had to cancel those she accidentally scanned but she didn’t cancel all the stuff because later for some reason she scanned one of it again and put it back as if it was not scanned yet. (hope you’re not confused now) So there they are, five of them, my mom, my aunt, the cashier, her superior, and my uncle who was trying to chat them up. Heh. He can’t close his mouth. He’s the chatty, teasing, jocular type. Me? Well, I just stood there and watched the confusion, and taking this picture, of course.



Take a look at the counter. Funny isn’t it? I can’t figure out where the customer is supposed to queue up. The thing that shows the price is facing the right in the picture, so obviously the customer has to be standing on the right. But the proper place where you give your million dollar signature is on the left. So you’ll have to walk around the counter to do that? And why are people from the next counter queuing up in the same place you’re supposed to queue up? That would create a lot of butt grinding, feet crushing, stares zapping, elbows thrusting bunch of angry customers. Really, where’s the sense in this design?

Yesterday, I went there again – you know that already, I got my mouse there – this time only with my mom. We paid at the counter and after that she asked me to check if the cashier accidentally scanned on any of the items twice. I looked, said no, but she didn’t believe me and checked it herself over and over again. Moms. After she experienced the clumsiness of one of the cashiers it’ll forever be etched in her mind that cashiers from that place is inefficient. Or maybe it’s because I looked at the receipt like I don’t care. But I did check, okay!

Let’s rewind the time now, back to when we first got there. When we reached there, mom didn’t carry a handbag so she asked me to keep her handphone which she took out from her pocket. Why? Because she was afraid it’ll explode. Moms! They get paranoid after watching news on TV. Apparently this guy in the news had his phone in his pocket while driving and it exploded, burning his balls.

“Mama, what’s the point of you bringing a phone if I’m the one keeping it? If I want to call you, I’ll be like calling myself.”

She laughed and took the phone back.

And you know, she’ll give lectures – they’re not long because I’ll stop her halfway – when I overcharge my phone or anything.

She’s not going to like it if she reads this. But of course, she doesn’t read my blog. So I’m safe.

More pictures of the hypermarket below! But be patient, we’ll get there. I got bored waiting for my mom while she chose onions so I took pictures. It first started with this guy trying to sweep under our trolley. He sweeps everywhere, every time! He sweeps while people are walking by, he sweeps under the racks, he sweeps the same spot over and over, he sweeps… While I looked at his always moving broom, his mopping friend decided to join in. So there they were, sweeping and mopping frantically. Oh no! Dirt! Sweep! Mop! Get off! That’s my spot! Of course while they fight over the same tiny spot, their happy friend riding the I-don’t-know-what-you-call-it thing came, and he wins! With one sweep over the floor, the dirt was gone for good! He would win no matter what because that thing he’s riding on can spray water and sweep it off, faster than you can say “dirt!”. So it’s like a mop and a broom. Brilliant. He then went circling around small display racks celebrating his victory. I’m not joking. He really did go round and round that small area. Obviously, this was the time I took out my camera. I tried to snap a picture of the happy guy but he was too fast. He disappeared into the crowd, or rather the crowd decided to block my view. That was when I saw that there were suddenly two more additions to the mopping gang! Four of them in that small little area! Is this some kind of a mob mop meeting?



I couldn’t get all four of them in the picture. They’re hidden somewhere behind the annoying photo-hungry crowds.

I won’t rest till I get a picture of happy guy and his little car so I went after him. There! I finally got it!



And there’s another mopping guy here too. They’re like doing the cleaner tango in the picture.

That’s it on today’s hypermart hypernews! There will be no hypermart news anymore. You can thank me by kissing my feet.

Oh did I say that they have cool chairs in the food court? I’d like to steal one someday.


Saturday, May 26, 2007

Ladies and gentlemen, my new mouse!

I took my mom to the hypermarket today and thought, why not get a new mouse while I’m there? And so I did. Got myself a new mouse, the second cheapest one, because the cheapest one was already sold out. There’s another one much, much more expensive but I don’t see the point in getting one 5 times the price I got mine because a mouse is still a mouse. That goes to show that I don’t know much about mice (hahaha). The one I got is not funky, doesn’t have those leopard skin or whatsoever designs but definitely nicer than my old one, appearance wise, and definitely more handsome than the expensive one too. So since the expensive one did not get its price tag because of its looks than what is it expensive for? Anything I should know about mice?

Here’s what I learnt today about mice…mouses…whatever.

I didn’t know they have a preset life time. It can only last for a hundred thousand hours, that sounds a lot, but shouldn’t it last for as long as I have power supplied to it? And it can only take 3 million clicks, give or take, before it dies? What if I’m obsessive-compulsive and I have to click repeatedly until the page/window shows up? Does that mean my mouse will die after a week? Noooo!!! And there’s a scanning speed? Wonder what that means.

You don’t have to compare yours with mine, yours is probably way cooler. So what? I don’t want a funky one. I may not resist not eating a funky one. Ask philos if you have no idea what I’m talking about. He said I ate my mouse because I’m a cat. Tsk. But I’ll forgive corny people like him.

So what have I got to say about my new mouse? Mousey here is kinda…uh…not as clickable as my old deceased one. I have to put in extra effort when clicking. There goes 0.000000693 calories into that task. Great for those trying to lose weight! And it’s louder too. Plus the sound the left click makes is different from that of the right click. It’s got personality. Wow.

It also moves slowwwwly…When I first plugged it in, it was smooth and fast. I loved it. Then when I actually started using it, it lost speed. It got lazy. What a lazy mouse. Maybe this is what it meant by the scanning speed. Speeds of 1500-3000 per second or lower is characteristic of a lazy mouse. The expensive one is probably a frantic, hectic mouse. Heh.

So I went to Control Panel and adjusted the speed. Still the same. I went back and adjusted it again. It’s still the same! Bah! I went to work and after I came back, I turned on the computer and it was fast again. Huh? Is this some kind of a joke? Does my new mouse hate me like how my touchpad does? *weep*

But of course later I realized. It’s fast when I’m testing it and not actually using it for something. Because when you’re moving it around for a purpose, you tend to hold it down harder. And that’s what makes it go slow. So the trick is to hold it gently, no force, never use force – we know, from the previous post, force is no good. Whichever kind of force is bad – and it’ll go smooth.

I know my mouse inside out! I can even see its insides. Yay! I’m so proud of myself. But I still don’t like it, even after I discovered the trick. You can’t click with no force. And I think since mousey knows I know about his little trick, he’s making the cursor crawl at a snail’s speed all the time now. Fark.

Aww...

I just finished watching Fire Challenge (oh my, I’m addicted to the show). Today’s episode is just so sweet I can’t wait till tomorrow to write about it. I have to do it now else I can’t sleep.

This woman sought the help of Fire Challenge because she found out her husband of 3 years is gay. “Found out.” Well, I don’t believe her. She must have been blind if she doesn’t know because these two guys are inseparable. His lover always tagged along all through the one year the woman and the man dated. The man later married her to please his mother. So now that she “found out” about his little secret, she wants him to leave his lover.



Aww…Look. He’s so protective. The wife tried to hit his lover time and again and she actually succeeded.



His lover is cute. He’s the cutest guy to attend the show in all the episodes that I’ve watched. But he’s gay. Sigh. The Chinese words reads “Totally doesn’t know”. It’s telling the fact that his lover didn’t know his 1 year old kid was his biological kid he had with his wife. Heartbreak! They had a little fight but patched up right away. Seeing that, the wife again asked him to choose. “Me or him?” To which the husband said he will never leave him and jumped to kiss his lover. Smooching!



Why censor?! I wanna see smooch smooch. God I said that twice.


His mother later came out and again his lover got hit, and again the man defended him. Her hand missed his face but got his eye instead.



I tell you, of all the episodes I’ve watched, whenever the man says he loves the woman, he never really means it. Why? Because when the aggressive opponent’s hand swings forward, the man is nowhere to defend the woman he ‘loves’ oh so much. He can’t be there to take the blow for her. What a loser. But this guy is different. Which makes it so sweet. Aww… Sorry I can’t help it. I go “aww…” whenever I think of it.

His mom later threatened to kill herself if his lover wouldn’t leave him. After that threat got sour she changed her strategy. She said to the cute guy, “If you can have a baby then I’ll let you be with him.” What a load of shit. You know that’s not possible. Control freak. Just makes you hate her even more. Her son got fed up and walked out with his lover hand in hand. They’re hand in hand all the time. Aww…



His mother and wife immediately knelt down begging him and he did the same begging them to let him go. You can see them in the background.



Look at their hands. Aww… I know you’re gonna strangle me if you hear another “aww…” but like I said, I CAN’T help it.

The people on the show persuaded them to get back on stage and later made him choose who he wants to be with, as they usually do. After the 10 seconds countdown, he turned to his wife and said he doesn’t love her and apologized; turned to his lover and said “Wo ai ni, dan shi wo bu nen gou ai ni.” I love you but I’m not able to love you. Then he turned to his mother and said he loves her too but he’s had enough of her controlling his life, and he left the studio! Hey! I think you forgot your lover!

What a shitty ending. He should have taken his lover along. I’m not satisfied. Hmph!

Moral of the story:

  1. Never try to control people’s life. It doesn’t matter whether you’re his parent or not. It’s just wrong.
  2. Say no to force. By force I mean compel.
  3. Don’t leave your lover behind.

Ok now that I’ve posted this, I can sleep with ease.

….

Man! He should have taken the cute guy with him! Wtf.

Friday, May 25, 2007

You will be deeply missed, my mouse

Late last night, or early this morning, whichever way you want to put it, my mouse stopped working. At first I thought it was my computer playing the let’s-hang-your-work-and-make-you-go-crazy games but no, it wasn’t, and thank god. I don’t like it when the computer hangs. But I didn’t really like the idea of a malfunctioned mouse too. Now everything feels weird. There’s nothing for me to hold on to. I need to hold on to something or I might rack my nerves. I just might! Plus the touchpad I have is really sensitive and it hates me. Sometimes when I type on a certain line I will end up typing on another instead. I call this the irksome jumping lines prank. So if what I say here makes no sense, don’t blame me. But it’s just not that. Sometimes it’ll play other pranks on you. I can’t think of any right now, I’ll need the brains of a touchpad to think of one, but I tell you, it can sure get on your nerves. One second you’re doing this and the next your screen changes to that and you’ll be like, “The hell!?” And when all these happens your hands will reach for the mouse again, because this is what everybody would do, but oh I’m sorry, it’s dead. That’s when the sick reality drops its bomb on you and you have to use the touchpad. And you need both your hands, sometiu get confusemes, and yo <-- there goes the jumping lines prank; this time it’s jumping letters. Let me rephrase, and you need both your hands, well, sometimes, and you get confused…and… I forgot what I wanted to say. Damn you touchpad! Damn you!

I’m too lazy to go get a new mouse. Why must you die on me?! Whyyyyy!?!??!!? (Jumping lines happened again, but I corrected it of course. I swear my hands were nowhere near the touchpad) I didn’t think optical mice (hahaha!) …mouses…mice (Argh! Which is it?) would die so fast. Well, at least now I have a reason to get a new funky one, after I get out of the lazy spell.

Edit 9:49 PM - I've just noticed a typo. Most probably the doings of the touchpad. Wonder if you realized.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

First there were none

Now there are three.

A friend sms-ed me yesterday about a possible Hong Kong trip in December. Then today I got an email from a friend about a trip to Puerto Galera in August. At first I was like, Puerto Galera? Where the heck is that? Well, it's in the Philippines. And right after reading that email, I blog hopped and landed on Thad's blog where in one of his entries, he talked about Puerto Galera. Talk about coincidence. Or maybe it's just because I've come to know of that name that I took notice. Imagine if I didn't read the email until next week. I would have just passed the name off as some place and would forget about it the next week.

That aside, what should I do now? Proceed with Singapore anyway, or cancel it and go HK instead, spending thousands (although the plan has not been confirmed), or go to Galera and also spend thousands? Thanks for reading my crap. I'll go back to drifting around feeling like shit now.

Oh and another thing. I'm gonna start linking people again. The image is up! But as you can see there are only 5 cats there. Hmm. Who should I link to? If there are more than 5 the rest can be the green lights haha. Ok, back to the shitties.

Shitty day

I feel sick to the stomach. I feel like shit. I feel wrong all over. Arghh!!! I wanna curse! Why am I so full of anger? Well, to begin with, it has nothing to do with my holiday trips. I sorta got over it, for now at least. Right at this moment I’m just thinking of my writings. The only writing I can produce is that of a blog. How about the other writing I vowed to do? For starters, I can’t make up my mind if it should be in first person or third person. Or if it should be a script or a novel. So I wrote two. I sound like I’ve finished writing them and only have to worry about which to choose. But I’m not even close to that! Reality is I’ve just started and everything seems wrong. It sounds wrong. It reads wrong. Fuck it! I’ve just switched windows to type this entry. I’m hopeless! This is going to be one hell of an inner self-fight week. Oh by the way, it’s already Thursday. The intensity grows.

Wakey, wakey

Good morning! Ohaiyo gozaimasu! I can’t use this phrase anymore because it’s already 10:05 but what the heck. Surprised why I’m up so early, on this boring day? Well, actually I did plan to wake up early. I was supposed to wake up at 9. But of course my phone alarm rang and I turned it off. Then at 9:30 it rang again. (not exactly ring, it plays one of my favourite songs) I looked at it and it displayed ‘Private Call’. Is my phone trying to be funny? Tricking me, ain’t ya? I’m not going to be fooled, heh heh. I was almost going to turn it off but I thought I should answer anyway. Guess what? A person spoke! This is the just-woke-up syndrome. The symptoms are:

  1. You cannot distinguish reality from fantasy.
  2. Inanimate things around you are alive. (Number 1 should probably explain that)
  3. You can’t think. Which is why I can’t give you numbers 4, 5, and so on.

Once I woke up from an afternoon nap, and my dad was walking by. I stopped him, pointed to the clock and started saying really weird stuffs. I think it has something to do with the clock being evil and all. I don’t really remember. Of course my dad said I was crazy.

Well, back to the call. It was a guy calling from McDonalds, asking me all sorts of questions. First, he got my surname wrong but I couldn’t care less to correct him. Then he asked if I got any McD newsletters to which I replied ‘no’. There’s a newsletter? Yay! Colourful pictures to look at! Then he asked if my address was Harry Potter Stneet*. Huh? Stneet? Come on. Are you stupid or are you stupid? Stneet? Is that even a word? I’m pretty damn sure I wrote ‘street’ in the form so it must be the stupidity of the person who re entered my details or you need to get your eyes and your brains checked.

Then he asked for my birthday which made me happy because surely he wants to send me something special on that day. Yay! After a few more questions he hung up. Then I started to think. Why did he call to ask me questions? Does he not trust me? Or the whole form is full of Stupid’s mistakes? Or is this a con? Well, I don’t think I gave him any details I shouldn’t have given him. I’m still safe, I guess.

Here’s an idea, if you’re into tricking people, do it when they’ve just woken up. And please don’t do it to me if you don’t want to be burnt alive by lava spewing from my mouth.

*Footnote: For the sake of confidentiality, the address has been changed.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Pissed

Hi this is Runawaycat’s other self. As the title puts it, RC is currently pissed. When I say pissed, I mean REAL pissed. Hence, me, RC’s other self, has to take her place in typing. Why is she so pissed, you may ask. Well, it is simply because she has had enough of stupid I-want-to-go-to-Singapore tricksters/pretenders. They will come bringing hope and glee to RC by telling her their wish to join the trip only to deliver great disappointment minutes later by saying they, for some reason, can’t. Some even had the guts to ask her for the details.

“Do you think this is funny? It’s not funny anymore. It never was.”

Among the excuses/reasons she got from the tonnes of people she asked, and those who offered to go upon reading her display message, were:

  1. I’d love to go, but I have no passport.
  2. I’d love to go, but I am broke.
  3. I’d love to go, but I can’t because (see 1 and 2)
  4. I’d love to go, but I’m working. I can’t take leave.
  5. I’d love to go, but I (see 1,2, and 4)
  6. And finally, the final (and I hope it’s the last because RC will really lose it) pretender said: “Is your plan on already?” “What’s your budget?” “What? Only $ XXX? I think we’ll need more.” “Who are you going with?” “But I don’t know if I can take leave” And finally, “I’m sorry I don’t think I want to go. I have no money.”

There are other excuses/reasons, RC is sure of it, but she will try not to remember. RC now has only one companion whom she feels might not be serious about going.

“You can’t blame me. I’ve got so many tricksters coming up to me. How can you expect me to trust the whole of mankind anymore?”

She’s also receiving a couple of other opinions from the mighty Queen. All these led to one outcome. RC throws a tantrum and cancels the plan. She’s allowed to throw a tantrum. You shut up, if you even come close to think of her as a spoilt brat, I’ll show you the claws.

RC’s mood got worse when she saw the condition of her wardrobe. It looked like a battlefield. So she’s now off to do some rearrangements. I will also take a break. Have a look at the picture of the war zone.



Update 10:30pm: RC just received an sms about a year end Hong Kong trip. The budget will be 4-5 times that of the Singapore trip but they’re people who actually want to travel. What would RC do? What should she do?

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

God doesn't want you

Someone I know wrote in his blog about his near-car accident experience. And at the end of it he said, "By the grace of God I am still alive."

What is this? Is being alive on Earth better than being dead but standing next to God in heaven? If dying to the Christians meant going back to be with God, why don't you want to go? Why are you so glad for being alive? You know this could mean God doesn't want you by his side. He's just making sure you stay alive to go through all the sufferings humans have to face.

They always have to eat their words. I can tell you more but I'm too lazy to think.

Monday, May 21, 2007

Brooms

...aren't just for sweeping. They can also make excellent tools for fighting, as you can see from the picture below. Got it from Taiwan's Fire Challenge.




First she tries to sweep her mother-in-law out of the house. Next she aims for the sister-in-law. Can't really see the broom though. When I saw that scene I was rolling on the floor laughing. Really, how funny is this? Man, that was the funniest episode I've watched so far. A mother-in-law so superstitious in that she believes wearing blue can't give you children, and a broom fight? A broom fight!

Wonder who planted the broom on the set. Brilliant. Simply brilliant! I hope they plant an axe next. Then we can have a bloody screen. Nice.

Sperring resson

Here is a screenshot I captured from the anime Tantei Gakuen Q. I'll let you guess what Q is.

What? Don't know? Come on... Still no idea? Sigh. Q stands for Quarified! *disappointing look* It represents a group of students from class Q who'll take over this man's (pic) position one day. Oops spoiler, whoever that plans to watch this anime.

So this is how the Japanese spell qualified. There's something called the dictionary, ya know. You should at least check it out before you spell it out to the whole world what Q is.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Shop for free!

I was looking around in visitsingapore.com when I stumbled upon something. 20 Unique Things to do in Singapore for Free. Free! Of course it instantly caught my attention. I clicked the link, and was directed to this page. Item number 2 was the first thing I saw. It’s probably because it’s out of place. Shop till you drop? For free? But of course after reading it, it said “Go window shopping…” Still, it doesn’t make sense. You can’t window shop till you drop.

Me: Exactly how stupid is this? Shop till you drop by going window shopping?

Kopi: Watch the stuff that we can’t afford to buy and drop dead.

Me: Hahahahah!

That made sense.

If they can’t think of 20 things and shopping is just to fill in the empty space, then it should be at number 20. It’s only normal if we put the not so accurate things and what not last. This is what we teach ourselves to do in exams.

Friday, May 18, 2007

Hair Impression II

Every time after a visit to the hair saloon, I will have something to say about it. This time is no different. I went to the same place again today, the place which I have blogged about a few times in the past.*

I usually have the apprentice do my hair, which is cheaper, but I’d ask for a more experienced one. When I sat down the first thing I told her was ‘no layers’. If you remember or if you’ve read the previous hair saloon post, I said I don’t want layers the next time around. And yeah, I got a girl again. Honestly I prefer guys to do my hair. After washing my hair and doing the massage – that’s the best part, but she wasn’t skilled enough – I sat back down and a guy took over. Ah! He looks skilled. Turns out he IS skilled. Everyone else came and surrounded us and suddenly I feel like a museum exhibit. The girl who was supposed to do my hair stood and watched too. The skillful guy who I presume must be the Sifu and probably the owner of the place started flaunting his skills as everyone looked in awe. But he only used one skill. The Diagonal Sliding Scissors. The skill which nobody dares to use, so says my mom who eavesdropped on their conversation. I’ve seen it before though. I wonder if I had a name for it then. Anyway, for now it shall be DSS. Sifu used the DSS kungfu for my whole head with intervals of Spinning Scissors moves. Now that is dangerous. Kids don’t try this at home. You might lose an eye or two. He tried a couple of different scissors and starts spinning them around with his fingers like how a cowboy would his gun. I don’t know, but you can do your ostentatious display another place but not right next to my head, thank you very much.

Now as he did the DSS, I wondered. Are those layers he’s doing??? My god, that girl didn’t tell him, did she? No! Stop standing there keeping mum! Say something! Oh well. Too late. I knew she was fresh. She smells like a person who doesn’t know jack about what she’s supposed to be doing. But it’s okay. Sifu is here to the rescue. I got layers but at least it was done speedily with top-notch kungfu moves. I won’t complain. I won’t.

After everything, it was time to blow dry my hair. Great. The part I love the most. Right… Usually another person would come help when blow drying time arrives. There I was, sitting on the chair with two turbo jet propeller engines blowing in both my ears. And as they have a tug of war with my head, the girl’s porcupine comb hit my face twice. All the more reason to say she’s a freshie. After the blow drying session, the girl called the Sifu to come inspect and again he decided to be flashy with his Spinning Scissors moves. After some really uncool moves he proceeded to randomly pick and pull my hair and started snipping away. ARHHH!! What are you doing!? You’re not a teppanyaki chef and my head is not a hot plate stove!

Guess I’m stuck with layers again.

Footnote: * For the sake of those who have no idea what I’m talking about you can read my old entries which I have reposted here. My hair saloon posts supposedly are my reader’s choice, as I was told. Well, actually only one so I’ll only post that. Hope you don’t mind the Manglish. I was too lazy to change it.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Mr. Bean

So I finally went out. After hours of fluctuating moods on whether to go out or not, I finally dashed out when the going-out-mood was at its peak. Thank god I darted out because if I were to take my time, my mood would have taken a plunge. Anyway, to the topic…

Have you ever had the Mr. Bean moment? The times when you feel you just have to look like a suspect? Like when in the bank, you make suspicious moves? Or just simply look suspicious? Heh. I have. Weird eh? I don’t exactly do really suspicious things like reach into my coat as if to pull out a gun or anything. I don’t know what I do. Just look suspicious, I guess. Before you say I’m trying to get the attention of the security guard, mind you, he’s an old man. I’m not interested in old men unless they look like Richard Gere or Junichiro Koizumi.

This Mr. Bean moment applies in shopping malls as well. You know, you act like you’re gonna steal something and… Ho! Ho! You’re not! I think Mr. Bean moments can take place whenever there is a security guard. I wonder why. Maybe it’s because of his nature to suspect people and then he suspects you, so you thought you might just amuse him a little. Maybe.

Like I said, I went out today, to the mall. I got into the department store and something caught my eye. It was sheets of suggestion forms, suggestions made by customers to the department store pinned up on a board. Man, I should have brought my camera. They would make nice blog reads. Anyway, I was happily reading their comments on stinky toilets and very “helpful” chit chatting staffs when the security guard came and stood three feet from me. Ahah! Time for Mr. Bean moments? Nah. As much as I am a Mr. Bean-suspicious-looking type, I’d much avoid a chat with the guard. What’s his problem anyway? Aren’t they there for people to read? Do you have to come look at me as I read? Sheesh!

If I had a camera and if I took it out, I’ll definitely get a chat with him. Hmm. Why can’t we take pictures in shops? Have you ever taken pictures in shops, be it a big or small one, they would come up and tell you not to? Why?

Later I saw some really cool designed water bottles or tumblers as how I would call it when I was small. Tumblers. Tumblers. Now it’s beginning to sound weird. I thought of getting it but there were too many designs I switched to fickle mode. Should I take the one with the brown cover (I’m attracted to brown) or the one with the brown design or the one with some quotes on happiness (I’m obsessed with the word ‘happiness’, its meaning or any other word related to it) or the zen looking black and white one? Oh! I can’t make up my mind! So what happens when you can’t make up your mind? You don’t make one. I left with no water bottle.

But I got myself cheap sushi! Yay! And I got pistachios and Mister Potato too! And of course Kickapoo. I was starting to get dizzy and the only thing that can help me is sweet drinks. And preferably yellow in colour too. Mountain Dew used to do the trick but they don’t sell it anymore. Nobody sells it anymore. I think it’s easier to buy a gun than buy Mountain Dew. Why? Why? Why? Do you know some people might die if they don’t have Mountain Dew? Why? Is it banned? It’s been so long since I’ve had Mountain Dew. I can’t remember how it tastes like. I want some!

Magic Button

I really don’t know my DVD player or DVDs very well. For example, I put in a DVD last night and funny thing is it didn’t have a menu. Which means I can’t choose the language or subtitles. Which sucked. You can’t watch a movie and not understand a fucking thing they said. I might as well watch Charlie Chaplin if so. I pressed ‘Menu’ but the screen shows ‘Operation not possible’. Fine. I tried ‘Top Menu’ instead. Still the same. Frust! But like they say, when you’re desperate, your brain works better. That was when I found this button!



Yay! Subtitles for me!

P.S: Does anyone know how to solve the problem of menus not showing when you play a DVD in your computer? I know you can right click and choose languages and subtitles there but sometimes it doesn’t work. And my Haali Media Splitter icon never appears on the taskbar. It has so far appeared only once when I was watching one of the DVDs. Is there a setting I should be changing? Or the DVD doesn’t support this?

Saturday, May 12, 2007

I love pistachios

I was eating a packet of pistachios the other day. The packet said extra 10% of 40g of pistachios.


That made me wonder. How many pistachios am I getting for free? Exactly how many pistachios are 4 grams? (that’s 10% of 40g just in case you can’t do really basic math) So I got out my mom’s weighing scale. The smallest measurement is 10g so I weighed 10 pistachios.


Count. There are ten.


It reads 15-20g by the way. If this was written four years ago, I would have started with all the physics terms and calculating errors. But no, this is 4 years after that, where everything physics knowledge I have has been returned to the books.

So, let’s just take it as 15g – mom argues it is, though I feel it’s 20g – that would mean 1 pistachio is 1.5g. meaning I’m getting something like 2 pistachios in 4g. Uh…am I supposed to be delighted? Yay! 2 free pistachio nuts!

On a separate occasion:


I wondered at first, why stuff I put in the bag is outside the bag. Duh. Is this what you call a plastic bag?

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Spammers Part II

Kopi said I wasn’t spammed enough so I went and checked my old, abandoned email. Guess what? I had 371 mails and 227 bulk mails. Can you even have that many bulk mails? I thought they are automatically deleted from time to time. Anyway one of the mails I got didn’t seem like a spam. It was from a friend whom I’ve not contacted for a long time and it had no title. Hmm…Some reunion invitation? I opened it and instantly got a headache. Have fun deciphering it. This is only a portion by the way.

MDU1QEA/QEBAQEBAQEBAQEBA/8AAEQgBgAINAwEiAAIRAQMRAf/EAKcAAAIDAQEBAAAAAAAAAAAA AAMEAQIFAAYHAQEBAQEBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAQIDBBAAAgECBAMFBAYFCgQGAQUBAQIRAAMhMRIE QVEFYXGBIhORoTIUscHRQlIV4WKSIwbw8XKCotIzQ1MWssIkVOJjg5M0RHOj0+M1RVURAAICAAQH AQADAQACAwAAAAABEQIhURIDMUFhkVKSE4EiMmJx8KFCggT/2gAMAwEAAhEDEQA/APU/lO6/7+4f /Tt/ZVfya/M/PPI/8u39lak11X8r2RnSs7d2Zh6TuR/9+5/7dv7KC3S7/mnfP5Yn93byPHKtdj7q C5IAIziJ5ir+V7IaVnbuzLHTtybvp/OPBMEm3b5TyqLvS7twqjb1ypYr8CDECRkONOgsL78m9NgM wMdLAUd49ayx4kj+y0VMMq9kNPW3szHO1vJuRtU3tyWEybaRx7M8KaHTd8+J3rnTl5LZ9nlq9m2v zt1w5UaRjhqnU0nxinQ4LArAMGMfNz7qfleyGlZ29mIv0i/cYh99cLYE/u7Yz8K4dDvKZG+uD+on 2VppAAg4RlVqfleyGlZ27szD0jckaTv7kcvTt/ZUflW4Kx8+8f8A47c+2K02cKYoO2uC6C4+EEjE<>

I’ve got Amie, Shanna, Hajime Kindaichi, Luuk Yang, James Lau, Sujitra, even a basilar! What is that? A bacteria? So Caucasians, Japanese, Chinese, Indians and bacteria spammed me. Still no Nigerian so far. Oh and then there’s this person with no name. Absolutely no name. John Doe said:

Please reply to this email with the word "REMOVE" if you do not wish to be included in my email.

Yea sure, I’ll reply so you can spam me even more. Mr. Doe continued to spread his love by talking about….love.

Love is Patient St Paul places "love is patient" way ahead of all other virtues like kindness, compassion, courtesy, generosity…

*scrolled to the end*, there’s no fucking way I’d read it even if it were to please you readers

...Like the shaft of water hitting the turbines at Niagara making them move, love not striking back moves people toward God and toward one another.

He even included a poem. Aww…how sweet.

I do not want

The bravery of those

Who, gun in hand,

Rush forth to slay their foes.

Not hatred, greed,

Or glory of conquest,

Would I find rooted

In my human breast. <-- this is funny. If it weren’t for this, I wouldn’t have put it up. Your nipples is what you’ll find rooted in your breast.

But this, 0 God, I ask:

Please make me strong

To offer love to those

Who do me wrong.

Christopher Markert mailed me asking for my plans for Christmas. My, I still get his shit. It was something I signed up for when I was doing an assignment on the Bates method.

Okay enough of inbox. I shall now move to my bulk mails! Oh! I got a free lemon soda from Sodas! Oh my god. I even got a free laptop from Laptops! I’m so happy! Yay!

Hahaha! Jesus mailed me! Jesus Z. Franco. So that’s his last name?

Other bulk mails are boring. Still no Nigerian spam. Sigh.

CSI: Where's Grissom?

Bring back Grissom. I don’t like the new guy. Some substitute named Keppler. He’s just like the Miami guys. Mr. Know-It-All the tenth. We don’t need another Mr. Know-It-All, thank you very much. Guest stars suck. Remember the time when Latino guy appeared in Vegas, trying to strut his stuff? Cheh, not like he has anything to strut. That was before Miami came to being if I’m not wrong and that was also when my dislike for him started. Trying to act all smart. Enough of the new-smart-guy strategies, Jerry Bruckheimer.

Why must Grissom disappear from the scene? Is this some plot to slowly erase Grissom from the picture? You can’t kill him. You absolutely can’t. It’s against the rule of the CSIs. If you take him out, the whole CSI crashes. That’s how important Grissom is. He can act all godly and it’ll still be okay. The others? No. If they try to, they’ll just be Grissom wannabes. Grissom doesn’t have to show up on the TV screen. You just need to know he’s there. In his office, drinking coffee or reciting verses from Buddha, or walking around, popping up to say hi once in a while. But no…they thought it’d be cool if he takes the sabbatical, and bring in Keppler. Keppler…a name can’t get any sicker than this. Cut the crap and bring back Grissom.

Wednesday, May 9, 2007

It's definitely the weather

I’ve found the reason why I feel hot these few days. It’s my fan. It’s filthy dirty, covered with a thick layer of grey dirt. So I went and cleaned it, wiping off something which looked like sea cucumber poop. Now I can hear it cutting its blades in the air. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. Say that really fast. Then I went on to scrub the floor. Yay! Hairless floor for the night. Hairs will be back tomorrow. And now mom is going to make muruku. At 9:40 pm. Really, both of us have been bitten by the labor bug. I would understand if it’s me cleaning my room at midnight because my day only really starts at night. But mom?

Ahh…I’m one hard-working cat. Look. 3 posts in one night. How shall I reward myself?

Die spammers! Die!

My Yahoo email used to be clean. No spam. Bulk mail? Zero. But I couldn’t keep it private forever. You give your email address out. That’s its function. To be given out. But I chose carefully who to give it too. Though, soon after, I began to get lazy. I don’t scan the candidate list anymore. Anybody is fine. So now I get spammed. But funny thing is I only have 2 spammers and one of them happened to be my friend. Never mind. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. Totally forgivable. But then there’s this Indian girl whom I don’t know at all. You see, once I put up an ad for pen pals – I was bored – and she mailed me. So okay, I replied, introduced myself and asked for some introduction in return. She answered like one-third of my questions, misinterpreted my mail and went on with…you know what? I’ll post it here.

1st mail from her:

Hi
This is X from India a Z y/o. gal. Read ur ad in A. 
I 2 like 2 make frens across d world.
I found v have similar interests n hobbies.
Lyke to make u make my frens.
Rest after ur mail.
X

1st reply from her:

how ru ? U wrote dere is a quake dere. R u ok ? Hows ur family n all ?
I m worrrid 4 u . Pl take care of all n urself 2. Ok
yeah dear Im workin as an B.

Ill write u sometime later. Boss is dere any time
Bye
Take care
god bless u
ur fren 4e ever from India

I did not say anything about a quake here. I was taking about the big quake in Taiwan which caused the connection to slow down. See, she never paid attention. And it was a short mail. Did I say I hate short, meaningless mails?

I repeated my questions in the next mail and she finally answered some of it and then proceeded to say:

I hope ur enjoying my forward mails.
Right after ur mails
Take care
god bless u
Bye

I stopped replying and she kept sending me forwarded mails after that. Forwarded mails from India are different, I tell you. Not that I read it, you just know from the titles. Once I had enough and marked her as spam. But I still get mails from her. I guess you can only mark a mail as spam and not the person, huh?

So why am I only writing about this after so long? That’s coz I now get viruses from her friends. You know, Suresh, Abhi, Vivek, those people. I got two today from ‘my Indian friends’ with the subject heading ‘Hi’ and inside it says, ‘important textfile’. Hah! How important? Important enough to lure an idiot to click it? Anybody with a brain larger than a pea would know not to click. And then there’s this Anita claiming to be my best friend, asking me to join her Yahoo Group. Will she get incentives for recruiting people?

Stop forwarding me junk, chain letters and invitations to your stupid virtual parties. I know my wishes won’t come true if I send the god damned mail to a million people. Come on. Who are you trying to kid? So, grow up, log out of your freaking email account, and go smoke a fag. What am I saying? Whatever.


P.S: My first rant in this blog! Sigh. Still, it's not 'rant-ish' enough.

Ninth of May

This post has nothing to do with Bee Gees or the title except for the date it was posted. I ran out of ideas for titles.

May is a boring month. I wake up everyday only to walk around with my brains half shut down. I have nothing to do and no freaking stuff to write about.

Took mom to visit our dog in aunt’s place today. So I’m sitting here trying to think up on something to write. Hmm…I never really liked going there. Why? Because they have kids there. I don’t like kids. Most of them are horrible horrible beings. Of course there are nice ones who would not pull your hair or jump on your bed while you’re sleeping, but most are mean. They’re the descendents of Satan. They’re evil. Yea sure I was a kid once, but I was the good kid – the ones that don’t break people’s stuff for the sake of breaking them. I don’t break it for any reason at all. The monstrous kids I know? Heh. They’d mess up your room, pinch you, kick your legs, and do just about anything they can cook up with their devilish minds. I swear if they were any taller they’d kick you right at the crotch.

I got to my aunt’s place and She-Monster was having her dinner in the kitchen. He-Monster was nowhere to be found. I planted my butt on the sofa hoping that she-monster would take forever to finish her food, or better still, choke on it. *snigger* Right next to me, on the sofa, was another plate of rice. Must be He-Monster’s. Just then, He-Monster came in.

“Wanna see some magic? I can do magic.”

“Never mind. Finish your dinner.”

The only magic I wanna see from him is some disappearing act.

Both the monsters were is a good mood today. He-Monster finished his dinner and just sat there watching TV minding his own business while She-Monster, who had also finished her dinner, danced around naked. Somehow I did hope that they’d do some nasty thing to me so I can blog all about it and curse them to my heart’s glee, but no, they didn’t. There, another day in my life. Now I shall post this and go visit the pages I usually visit, all over again.

Sunday, May 6, 2007

Express Karma

Just a few days ago I was overloaded with physical activity in Redang. Fine, fine, overloaded was a little too exaggerated but I dare say it qualifies to be my first proper physical activity of the year. It was not those gym stuffs, I’m too lazy for gym, it was more of the walking, jumping, kicking, and carrying 10 kg weight on your back stuff. Hmm…not much different from gym, huh?

So today, I thought I’d pay a visit to the weighing scale hidden underneath the table. I stepped on it and to my horror, I gained 1.5 kg! But aren’t you supposed to lose weight after a workout? Well, yea, I did stuff myself with food while I was there – they did feed my four proper meals per day – but I should’ve burned that off in my physical activity. My physical activity. I like the sound of that.

Doesn’t make sense. If I were to stuff myself with pizza tonight, I would wake up the next day one kilogram lighter. It’s a proven fact. But I do physical activity and I gain 1.5 kg? Oh no. It can’t be express karma, can it? I did say to my friend’s boyfriend last night, “Hey, you gained weight.” And see what happened to me today? Express karma! It’s real!!

It’s not like I’m striving to lose weight or anything, I just want to maintain it where it is right now. Sigh. I still want my cheese. Some pizza should bring my weight back to where it is. Anybody free to eat out tomorrow? Tuesday? Any day this week?

Fibre

IKO Oat Calcium Crackers! All the fibre you need!

I was taking the midnight bus and naturally I got hungry. I have to have supper. Thankfully I brought with me some boring biscuits. As I chew into my third packet, I found something really interesting. Real fibres! One long, thick, white fibre! I found it odd at first when I couldn’t bite off the biscuit. Then I realized it was stuck to that white threadlike thing which was stuck in the rest of the biscuit. What’s that fibrous thing I’m trying to bite off?! Yuck! Pui!

Here’s that thing after my first bite. I had to bite around it because that thing sticks to the biscuit.



It was dark in the bus. Really dark. That driver doesn’t know what a sleeping light is. Hope you can make out that fibre. I was really stupid to use my phone’s camera when I had my digital camera right next to me. It would have been much clearer. Oh well.

All two inches of it. The thing you see sticking around it is the remnants of the biscuit.



*cough* *choke* Ugh.

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

Disappearing act

The space patrol is here to catch me! I’m going to disappear for a few days and go hide 10 meters below sea level. What better way to hide but underwater?

A few weeks ago I thought I would be free a few weeks after that to make a ‘wanted’ poster. (Read that again and again until you get what I mean) So now, a few weeks later, I AM free. But lazy.

Last week, I thought I should be getting started with a ‘wanted’ poster to go with this space patrol hunting me thing. You know? Runawaycat: The most wanted in the Milky Way! Reward: 3000000 gallons of milk. That kinda thing. Yes, I was that free to think of doing this shit. Unfortunately, right until now I still haven't come up with a poster.

I actually got the idea from watching Black Cat. This whole cat thing is actually from there. TV influences my life. I’m a sad, sad, case.



[Image source]

I was pretty sure the poster looked much better when I first saw it.

I must make a 'wanted' poster. So now I’m doing some googling. That didn’t help much so I tried Google Image instead. The posters are still ugly but it’s better than my blank white canvas. 20 minutes passed and I still couldn’t make up my mind on which to get. Bah I give up.

Look! I found this:

[image source]

Cool.

Sigh. I'll go pack my running away bag now. I promise to bring back cool pictures.

New glasses for me?

I went to the optometrist today. Mom wanted a new pair of spectacles and so did I because my current one sucks. It was my first pair and I’ve had it for more than 4 years now I think. It’s frameless, flimsy, it droops, and that thing that goes over your ears – what do you call it? – is not equal in length. In short, it’s as lousy as a pair of spectacles can get. This time around I want a half moon frame and a sturdy one. And I want it the lens to darken when it’s exposed to UV. Perfect!

So after we reached the place…

It started to drizzle when we got out of the car so I grabbed and umbrella and opened it. Guess what? The freaking umbrella bit me! Now I have a 10 micrometer dent in my finger.



I passed the umbrella to my mom so I could squeeze the blood out with my other hand. But my mom walked off with the umbrella. Mom: Must get spectacles! Must get spectacles! What the…I opened the umbrella so I can walk in the rain?

Finally…

We got into the shop my mom went to sometime like a decade ago. She wants to go back there because that place is kinda good, or something like that. It was old. Everything in it is old. The optometrist is old. The frames are for octogenarians and there were very little choices available. But of course there are modern looking frames too but since he’s got too little choices I thought I might as well go to another place. Wrong! I did go to other optometrists later, in shopping malls, where everything is new and fashionable but…but they have boring monotonous frames. Colours, yea, but designs? Yawn. That old man had really nice frames. I’d go back there but I don’t communicate well with old people.

My mom got out, after getting her eyes checked, and whispered to me, “I don’t think you will want to get yours done here. He doesn’t have those new fancy equipments to check your eyes.” My mom must have got so used to the other shops that she forgot this place is old. Maybe it didn’t seem old a decade ago. Hmm…I wonder what he uses. I don’t even remember what those ‘fashionable’ shops used to check my eyes. I’ve only checked my eyes once after all. I didn’t get to see the eye testing room because I had to guard the door. Yes you heard that right. The old man was the only one around and he didn’t turn on the air-con, or maybe it’s spoilt, so he had to keep the door wide opened. And if the door’s wide opened, somebody has to guard it. @#$%!

I sat there like an idiot while waiting for them to come out. Thank god there were newspapers. Finally, after like 30 minutes, he came out and I get to try on a few frames. They’re still, by far, the nicest ones I’ve tried on today. Shame on those fancy expensive shops.

My mom chose hers and he proceeded to measure her nose bridge, length of her eye, and er…I don’t know what else, with a little specially calibrated ruler. He even used his finger like an artist would use his pencil to measure the object they’re sketching. How bout me four years ago? I put my face on some device and it automatically measures my nose bridge. Pooh. When I got my glasses the measurement strayed so much from what it should be it could have ruined the economy of the world. My nose bridge is not retarded so it must be that device or the optometrist. Man, maybe you should get your eyes checked instead. I bet rulers work better.

I think I should still check other shops for better, less monotonous frames before resorting to that old shop. And I don’t think I want that shade transitioning or whatever it’s called lenses anymore. It’s freaking expensive and I’m poor. Why do I even want to get a new pair of glasses? It’s not like I wear them everyday. In fact I hardly ever wear them. Sigh.

To tell you the truth, it’s just so I can see all those cute guys from far away. But it’s possible they might turn out to be hideous. Worth risking the money?