Thursday, July 31, 2008


The original Super Lamb Banana.

UPDATED 12.15am, 1st August 2008. Amendment to the mall that I got wrong - It's NOT One Liverpool (which is actually called Liverpool 1) but its called the Met Quarter. Thanks to a very pissed of Winnie Chan from Liverpool who said that giving the wrong name of a mall to potential readers who could be female is a crime punishable by death!

As I approached Liverpool I thought to myself ,"I really got to see this lamb/mutton thing with that thing sticking out of it's ass". Of course I had forgotten what Ah Chanzz had told me about the SuperLambBanana and the information in my jet lagged brain was jumbled up. So visually as the bus pulled into the station I thougt I would be looking at what would look like the giant bastard love child of a piece of mutton with an ice cream stick coming out from whatever would pass off as a piece of mutton's ass.

I didn't know that this now iconic sculpture was scattered all over Liverpool and had now become a symbol of Liverpool as a center for art and culture. In typical sense of Japanes humour by artist Taro Chiezo, it was a comment on the dangers of genetic engineering! I'm expecting a typical Malaysian copycat version out soon, The Super Musang Durian D2020...

Aaaaanyaway, moving on.....

There' s a whole bunch of mini versions scattered around Liverpool after a contest was held this year among art schools in Liverpool. Go HERE for the location maps and more information on the Mini SLBs.

Below are some of the Mini SLBs that I saw in my time in Liverpool.

The Sargent Pepper/Ringo inspired SLB outside the Beatles Museum at Albert Dock.

The Rafa Baaaa-nitez SLB in the MET QUARTER at Liverpool City Center.

Workman SLB near the Walker Art Gallery. Came with compulsory butt crack!

Um not sure but this was designed by some comedian. In the same mall as the Rafa SLB.

The Liverpool FC inspired SLB at Anfield. Quite boring.

The Everton inspired SLB at Goodison Park

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Malaysia vs Chelsea

Malaysia 0 - Chelsea 2

Didn't think of going but at the very last minute an unexpected source scored me some A-grade seats. So sat through the traffic to see our boys loose their nerve, cool, common sense and the kitchen sink in the box. The Chelsea keeper could have been sunbathing, sipping pina coladas in the nude and our strikers would still have scuffed or ballooned their shots. Well at least they're consistent...

Chelski were playing at half trot especially as they had to board a flight to Russia after the game.

But, BUT for the first time I actually found myself actually urging on our team. There I said it, OUR team. I have no idea why. They've let me down since forever but today, today I felt they represented me. They actually played halfway decently and some of them even fought till the end.

I can't play like them and they're not a soon-to-be famous blogger like me (wahahaha!) so they were the best that WE have on the pitch in Shah Alam tonight. AND for the first time in many matches our OUR boys didn't go crumpling to the ground like a broken Barbie doll every time someone farted on their legs. THAT made me start to get behind them. I've seen some atrocious acting from them before but today they were decent. Like they suddenly grew more hair on their chest on this humid Malaysian night. Of course there was a lot lacking especially compared to the EPL millionaires but the bottom line is today I stayed till the end of the match...:)

Monday, July 28, 2008


Helen Mirren.


'nuff said.

Go HERE for more (if you really must).

Sunday, July 27, 2008

A Losing Battle FACT

OK, real story. Just an example that our parents' mantra of,

1. Be good to people

2. Help folks in need.

3. Do not do to others what you wouldn't want done back to your sorry ass.

4. The more you better yourself the more successful you will be in real life.

5. If you don't eat your vegetables or finish your homework you will end up a road sweeper in Seremban.


Below is a true story at one of my previous employers that shows that there are more dumbasses, sneaky mother lovers, narrow minded watchamacalits, excetera, etc, running wild AND PROSPERING on this planet than the regular folks trying to get on with a conscious or common sense. (I think I may have mentioned this before but bear with me k)

Admin/Accounts department Dude: "We suspect that you sales people are using company resources for your personal use"

Sales Manager: "What do you mean? I don't think anyone would be that stupid and I don't think any of my staff would do it."

A/ADD: "No, we have caught him. We have proof. He sent a package to his girl friend in Singapore."

SM: " What??? Are you sure??"

A/ADD: "Yes, her name is on the delivery order. It's Kimberly Clark."

SM: "........... . Um...mate, that's a prospective client. It was a hard copy of a proposal."

A/ADD: "But it's a girl! Kimberly Clark!"

SM: "Sigh..."

Thursday, July 24, 2008

It's 3 am

Superlamb banana! One of the many versions surrounding Liverpool.

I'm buzzing. It's 3am and I'm wide awake. We touched down at about 11.30pm just now after some crazy double transit action in Dubai and Singapore. A 2 hour delay in Manchester Airport, about 7 hours flight from Manchester to Dubai, we land in Dubai rush through the terminal and find out we've missed our connecting to KL. We're then put on another plane that's going to take us to Singapore where we were supposed to catch an Malaysian Airlines code share to KL. We land in Singapore almost 7 hours later and find out our MAS flight has left without us as we were late. We're put on another Emirates flight to KL and we get in all OK. We get to Sepang and are kept in a holding pattern as the airport is congested. I'm smelling funky and worrying that my checked in baggage is going to end up in Auckland after all the musical chairs we've been playing with all our flights.

Anyway I'm home now. I've got laundry that forgot to wash themselves when I was away and more sulking away in my trolley bag. I've got a pocket full of pennies, primrose and cod liver oil for Mummy and a sore shoulder from lugging my backpack full of a laptop, coffee beans and powder, and copies of Loaded and Zoo for some Bros-In-Arms.

Anyway, all in all it was an interesting trip. Getting used to the unpredictable weather, bright sunshine at 9pm and endless hours of reality shows (it's come down to hairdressers and people who search for the kin of the dead to give them their inheritance, called Heir Hunters). The travel and accommodation logistics were a bit bumpy but unexpectedly it was a refreshing time. We stayed in Manchester as Liverpool hotel rooms were as readily available as a virgin's thong because of the British Open golf tourney and the Tall Ships dropping by to visit. We caught the coach into Liverpool for our meetings. The extra time in Manchester enabled me to just wander around the town taking things in. The weather was a tease alternating from sunshine to those irritating midsummer drizzles. I lived on a combo of Subway lunches and Crispy Duck and a pint of Stella from Chinatown for dinner.

It was great catching up with Ah Chanzzz and some friends at Old Trafford and discovering the ease at moving about with trains and busses around Manchester and Liverpool.

I managed to get some pictures of the south side of Manchester which I thought I would never NEVER see again. After the last project I thought I wouldn't be going back to Manchester again as going to the UK for a holiday is just too extragavant for me. But guess it shows never to simply-simply use the words never never.

Here are some random pics of the trip:

Graffiti at a club along Oxford Road near the universities. I would go here to check out the Cotwold's outdoor gear store and more importantly to use the Internet at one of the cafes there - cheaper coffee than frikkin' Starbucks.

What the fuck??? Insert Red Devil/Red Indian joke HERE... This was at the Arndale Mall area. Some performance thingy.

The folks you stumble upon on your wanderings. A bronze statue of Abe Lincoln and that reading bookworm feller. Abe was put up in memory of the folks from Manchester who fought for the Union during the American Civil War.

Close up of the Midlands Hotel in Manchester. Supposedly the German Air force was instructed not to bomb it during World War 2 as high ranking officers had lived there before.

This is along the way to my favourite part of Manchester city. I could not take any picture to fully portray Castlefield and the Bar Ca a pub near Catalan Square so I'll have to describe it to you.

I swear this swan posed for me. She was swimming by and I had to change batteries in my camera. Without thinking i said "hey hold on, gimme a minute can ah?", AND SHE STOPPED. AND WAITED till i sorted my battery problem! I've named her Becky. She my fren....

Castlefield is an old ruined Roman fort. The remains of the small fortifications is surrounded by lush small grass lawns. A road leads under the massive black bricked over head train bridge. And as you pass under the bridge you're greeted by a canal that lazily runs along old warehouses, chic pubs and apartments. modern bridges sweep across the canal while trees and willows line some parts of the canal. Small ferry boats are moored by the sides as you walk along the path. And best of all the canal has its resident swans and ducks which add to the overall sense of peace and tranquility there. If you're ever in Manchester, from Deansgate, walk right down Liverpool Road, look out for the White Lion Pub on your left and turn in immediately. You will see the Castlefield fortifications just beyond the little garden after the outdoor tables and chairs. Keep walking and just follow the path under the bridge. Get a table at Bar Ca, order your beer under a tree and enjoy the moment as a swan glides by.....

Bar Ca is just beyond the trees behind the boat. The outdoor seating area extends to under the trees. There are also other pubs scattered around the area. Bar Ca is built into the steel and brick railway bridge that you can see in the background.

The building of the Manchester Hilton. Almost as cool as the Urbis building (um..pic in my hand phone. Will upload later)

The John Lennon section at the Beatles Museum. Surreal.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

A Day In Liverpool

Ah, my first trip to Liverpool! After numerous excursions to Manchester, I finally ended up along the banks of the river Mersey. Ah Chanzzz, the Kop elitist with the potty mouth of a drunken sailor met me at the Norton Street bus station and took me around town.

Besides the football meccas of Anfield and Goodison, Liverpool also still proclaim their reverence to the mop haired quartet of the Beatles, and also a must visit is the Albert Dock, and on yesterday the Tall Ships were in town. This very rare occasion (the last time they came to Liverpool was more than 15 years ago) saw the influx of at least 800,000 people into the city of Liverpool! (just my bloody arse luck).

But it was all good as catching up with Ah Chanzzz was fantastic, as living with Liverpudlians for the past 6 months has not changed her one bit and she still had her streak of evil humour and arsenal of Cantonese swear words ever ready to brighten up a conversation.

The 'other' stadium at Liverpool.

Some cool graffiti near the National Express bus station near Norton Street

Along the way to the Liverpool city center.

Some of the tall ships at Albert Dock

A view of the Liver Building (pronounced Lai-ver which is the name of the Liver bird thing that you will see on the crest of Liverpool FC). Legend goes if the two birds on the building were taken down then mighty arse luck will befall the city of Liverpool.

More Tall Ships at Albert Dock.

We had lunch at Gusto's at Albert Dock. The sun finally came out and Liverpool was bathed in glorious sunshine. Heineken, pizza and rissotto, the sea, bright sunshine, a glorious blue sky and great company - pricele$$$, especially after the grey wet days since I arrived.

The entrance to the Walker Art Gallery. Some really cool shit in here.

Queen E ready to ride outside the museum.

The Radio City Tower seen from the square at the Liverpool city center. Liverpool is quite compact as all the shopping, galleries and the docks are within walking distance of the Liverpool City Center. The Everton and Liverpool stadiums are about 10 minutes drive from here as well.

This kick ass live size piece of art - the circular piece of the building rotates out of the structure and back in again. It's probably freaked out many an afternoon drunk wandering down the street. It's called Turning the Place Over by sculptor Richard Wilson.

Just a coffee joint...

Even with the bright sunshine, the wind was powering up as the day went by. This shot was taken seconds before Ah Chanzzz was blown out to sea. ~sob~ I'll miss her....

The Beatles Museum also at Albert Dock. A bloody long queue. Not really worth the admission price of 12.50 pounds unless you're a hard core fan who gets wet listening to Strawberry Fields. Although the John Lenon section did put you in a contemplative mood.

All in all, a fun time, just taking in the city with a good friend. Minum-minum and enjoying the rare good weather in what was turning out to be a rainy summer in the north of England. Beers are still cheap, people keep asking if I'm all right and old ladies call me 'luv' compared to 'thambi' in Seremban. Liverpool was a nice break from the depressing greyness of the first 3 days here in the UK. Tomorrow is some more meetings and Tuesday is time to pack up camp and head back to Kayel.

Some basic Info:
Getting to Liverpool from Manchester:

Take the National Express from Chorlton Street. Tickets costs about 6.50 pounds but might go higher if you buy on the weekend. The journey takes about an hour. Buses leave on the dot so don't turn up on 'Malaysian time'.

More to come - The Beatles in Liverpool and Super Lamb Banana!

Thursday, July 17, 2008

In the middle of nowhere

"What? No rooms in Liverpool??? Staying where???"

Looks like my organiser from KL forgot about the British Open Golf tourney going on over the weekend.

So it's about 6am and I'm looking out my window into the grayness outside. I'm staying at the Premier Inn somewhere near Manchester Airport. The only thing mising now is tumbleweed outside and a stray coyote staring at me through the fence. After an 18 hour plus flight that included an 'exciting' almost 4 hours stopover in Dubai, I'm not really bothered that I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere as I've some work to finish although there is NOTHING around us except the freeway that we drove in on and some construction next door and what looks like some industrial buildings in the distance.

Thank god for WIFI at 10 pounds an a day and MSN.

Later we're hoping we are able to get rooms in Liverpool if not than well Fuk it, I'm just going with the flow. Still have some emails and proposals to send out so should be able to keep busy. Desprately trying to get an earlier flight back to KL as there is work pending there. Manchester to Dubai is OK bit it's tough to getting a connecting flight from Dubai to KL. Didn't know the Arabs loved Malaysia so much!

The grey Lego block Premier Inn that is my hotel for the night. Service is good and friendly though.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008


I leave tonight for a week in Blighty. 2-3 days of meetings and some fact finding. And the rest prob just chilling as the flights back over the weekend are fully booked. I have the weekend off where the super hot Ah Chanzzz will take me about the town in Liverpool. There is supposedly these ugly ass 'pieces of art' by a Japanese sculptor that look like cooked lamb with something sticking out of it's ass that i MUST see! Again, I have no real plans out of the meetings. I'll wing it when I get there. It's off season for football so it's a waste. I'll prob do the Anfield and Goodison stadium tours (if they're open) and maybe head over to Manchester to catch up with friends at the Trafford (if they can make some time for me).

Damn, a week of Brit food..

Monday, July 14, 2008


I'm a man (a manly man who wrestles bears before breakfast). I'm not tall but neither am I a hobbit. Normally I hover around 'normal' although I've been called:

1. 'Le Petite' (by the ex)

2. "It's OK dude, at least you've got a TALL personality" (wtf man...)

3. "Itu pendek punya budak" (the Indonesian woman from my laundry).

It's OK. I've never really been bothered by it except when I was a wee 'lil Chindian (when I wrestled dinosaurs before breakfast). It doesn't help that I'm normally around tall dudes and last coupla weeks back in the presence of some models I felt like a little kid who had strayed into a club with his hot mum and aunties (I don't get it, they're already 8 feet tall, why do they need to wear 2 foot high heels? The only thing missing was the presence of fur and a sign that read Sasquatch Convention)

The hieght thing only got to me in sports. I discovered sports quite late. Around 13 or so. I had no skill what-so-ever but after 5 years of FUCKING PIANO LESSONS!!! Yes 5 painful years of sitting indoors and gazing out the windows at the sounds of happy boys playing football next door, i finally took the route of the Galactic Rebellion and blew up the Death Star. Well in this case I made my piano teacher cry. Badly. All I remember to this day is through the sobs she spluttered, " You....YOU!!!!!! Why???????? Why are you doing this??!!!!! YOU'RE THE DEVIL!!!!!!"

Ha. Sorry Ms Teo. Tough shit...

Dem, I digressed... Anyway.

I threw myself into sports. I trained harder, practiced more and basically made up for a lack of talent through plain puke filled hard ass effort. But no matter what I did, I was always the smallest player on the field, on the track, on a court. But it still didn't matter. In football I was quite fast for my size and wingers were always fooled by what they thought was a little Smurf waiting at the left back position. Even though I played without my glasses (i was literally playing blind) my timing was excellent and I would take down those cocky little fukers who thought they could skip past me. I was faster than them and more importantly was willing to take whatever punishment to my body in order to take them down. Pretty soon they would get substituted with another 'victim'. Muahaha.

It was in athletics that I always felt wanting. In athletics pure ability was the order of the day. Heart could only take you so far. In that team we had quite a number of national athletes and breaking into the state team was tough going. Then for the first time in my life I wished I was taller, stronger and fitter. I yearned, dreamed and prayed I could grow those extra inches. My testicles were taking a beating during hurdles practice and i always lost out on the stretch to some loping, long legged gazelle in the sprints.

When you're young, THEY tell you things. These are some the things THEY told me told me to do to grow taller. THEY should be rounded up, bound, chained to a TV with a kitchen knife and made to watch endless episodes of Barney the Purple Frakkin Dinosaur. Anyway, here goes:

1. Skipping - "get a rope. Jump at least 200 times every morning and evening! Sure grow taller!"

2. Stretching - "Yes, stretch, Streeeeeeeetch! Reach your hands to the sky and hold it for as long as you can. Trust me it will work."

3. Swinging from a beam - "Swinging will help stretch out your spine more"

4. Eating tofu - "It will help growth"

5. Sleeping early - "Good sleep will make the body grow."

Well, I was 13 then, soooo....

I skipped till the cows came home, I stretched till I saw stars, I swung like a monkey (and fell on my ass a coupla times), i ate tofu till I was sick and I slept so early that I missed many a late night drama serial BUT the only thing that seemed to grow was the hair under my armpits...

It never really worked. Height wise i stayed at where I was at. But it didn't really matter. The huge discus throwers would personally ask me to follow them for training (I could bench press the same as them), the national runners used to love having drinks with me and would make the effort to be my driver once in a while during happy hours pub hunting in off season and overall I got used to bossing taller people around at work.

So yes height was never an issue but for that one phase in my life where the yearnings of a 13 year old exceeded common sense thanks to the promptings of old wives tales (tofu man....fucking tofu!!!) and hearsay from well meaning......pricks? Anyway, the beam is still back in Seremban and sometimes when I'm back home I take in a quick swing or two. And sometimes, SOMETIMES, I think I'm growing just that little bit taller...

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Mother In Law's Tongue

I was out in Sungei Buloh shopping for plants and I thought this would look nice on my balcony.

Until my sister said, "oh, that's called the mother-in-law's tongue." Holy Apt Descriptions Batman!!! That did it. Suddenly I was disturbed, and if there ever was going to be a symbol of the tongues of all mother in-laws in the world this plant would be it. Suffice to say I moved down the line as the last thing I want is to be sipping wine with a hot date one day and suddenly to look out onto my balcony and see this waving back at me in the night breeze...

It's also called the Snake Plant or by it's scientific name, sansevieria trifasciata which suddenly makes it sound like a pasta appetizer. If you're really bored and want to brush up on your botany go HERE.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Where Is Titus James?

We've forgotten about him haven't we? That toothy little Indian boy who left our shores almost a decade ago to chase a dream many of us guys dreamt of doing - playing football in Europe. We remember he was admitted into the prestigious Le Havre Football Academy at the age of 12 but that's it. Where is he now?

Titus and his under-15 team (can you spot the wee lad in the crowd?)

Pick up the latest July issue of New Man magazine for the skinny on what's happening to Titus James Palani written by yours truly!

He's 21 now and he's not a skinny little boy anymore. He's been living in France making a living for himself for almost 8 years. Sure the dream has taken a while to materialise (he now plays third division football which is part time and supplements his income with a day job) but the fact is he's surviving in France on his own and we've forgotten about only the second Malaysian football export to the world (the other was Lim Teong Kim who played for German third division outfit Hertha Berlin and now lives in Germany coaching Under-14 teams.

Titus after loosing the Under-18 finals with FC Villenoy.

Pick up the issue for more pics and more on what's the deal with Titus. I might catch up with him when he gets back for holidays so if any of you have any questions to ask him please leave it on the comments section. Just don't ask him to buy back stuff from France for you!

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

bo bice - drift away

I've never really mentioned how much I love music on this blog. I just got back from hearing an unassuming dude sing Sweet Home Alabama in a little pub in PJ. Some of the crowd heard it for the first time but everyone was swaying to it. I was looking for the Skynard version to post. One led to another and I heard to Bo Bice version (the acoustic version in the park that was fantastic!). Than I stumbled on this. I loved drift away (one of my fav Sunday afternoon songs!) and I like this version too. Hope it makes the Friday go seem much shorter!



Monday, July 7, 2008

It's a Mental Thing?

Last Wednesday evening was bad. The sneezing attacks I had over the past couple of days had resulted in massive phlegm build-up in my chest. I was breathing with wheezing action and accompanied with a runny nose that JUST WOULD NOT STOP.

That, and that I still had to put the apartment together which included putting together some cheap ass IKEA cabinets and racks, while moving back all the other furniture back into the hall. It's not frikkin easy putting these IKEA stuff together alone with a runny nose and clogged lungs. All the sneezing and coughing had also resulted in all the muscles in my back as stiff as a plank and movements were somewhat limited and painful.

The next day was worse. I just stayed home. SLOOOOOOWly put together the last cabinet, tried to clean up some mess, finished some proposals, poked some people on FaceBook and then decided to sod it. I needed to get out. I needed the break the monotony of extreme discomfort and pain. The Captain was taking Kelv out for his farewell before he flies off to work as a camel stud in the Middle East and they were meeting up somewhere in Damansara. I've never used these words before but I. Was. SHATTERED - weak, unable to breath, wheezing with an onset of a fever and a back that felt like it had been trampled by a rabid camel.

BUT I had a theory. A fantastic theory tested once before that I was on a mission to verify. A couple of years ago I busted my back for about the 377th time. I dragged myself into a bar to have a beer before I had to head home and start my cuddling with my hot water bottle. I bumped into an old friend and before you know it 1 beer ended up a truck load. We had a blast! Laughing, drinking and just talking male bonding shit - Tottenham Hotspurs and thier crazy 49-50 scorelines, why do our out of town friends insist we take them to Beach Club, that rich dude and his bimbo model girl friend with the IQ of a match stick, where to meet the hottest girls around South East Asia and weather Anakin Skywalker was more Justin Timberlake or James Franco...

The bottom line to this whole thing?

I walked out of that pub free of any pain and stiffness. By back was A-OK! An injury that would have taken at least 2 visits to the Tukang Urut Man was gone. It was as if all the pain and stiffness was pissed out together with the booze in the pub.

So last week I went out. I was in a shit state but The Captain and Kelv are good fun so I decided to risk it. I stuck to some whiskies and when we moved to Aaliyah and I downed a bowl of killer Sri Lankan rasam and I started to feel better. It helped that the babelicious Bunny was there. It helped that all the pilots at the table were engrossed about something to do with some flap and something else to do with the ATRC3PO Auxiliary Tupacshakur. It helped that the lawyers were busy slurring to each other. It helped that the Bunny seemed to be entertaining my presence.

Anyway, as I walked back to my car (sadly alone :( My lungs seemed to have cleared. My wheezing had stopped. Maybe it was the whisky or the spicy rasam but the slightly chilly night air smelt good as the frakkin' runny rose, that had run like a marathon runner over the last few days, HAD STOPPED! I was still exhausted but the extreme stiffness and resulting pain in my back was gone! Success!

Theory proven - Your mental state of mind is a powerful conduit. I'm not going to say that booze is a cure for ailments (although to many dudes with nagging mother-in-laws it seems to be) but if your mind is in a good place, the rest of the body has to go along for the ride. That's just what I think. I mean getting pissed out of your head is not going to cure cancer but being surrounded by positive vibes and sometimes emanating these same vibes will somehow effect your health. C'mon when is the last time you saw a truly happen person ill? Truly happy, not some dude on weed. So yeah, that's my scientific experiment for the year which I have put my health at risk to test because whisky + rasam + laughter + good company + whisky + spicy South Indian soups + a babe + whisky = a happy soul and a happy body.

Majulah Thani Sessions Untuk Negara...

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Top 5 Comic Book Artists

I'm just going Fanboy this weekend. After the death of Michael Turner I thought I'd list down my top 5 comic book artists. These are dudes I would go out and buy a book because they drew it and not because of the storyline.

Michael Turner was one of them. These first few here are samples of the work by Korean born Jim Lee.

Frank Miller

His sparse and often violent lines were a stark contrast to the manga inspired work by his contemporaries. That, and also he was an award winning writer. He penned the defining Dark Knight Returns, created the world of Sin City, wrote Martha Washington and of course 300 which was made into a cinematic tribute to his work.

The fucking master painter whose work is just too awesome and too many to put here. His re-imagining of costumed super heroes was brilliant. Since he used real models for his sketches his heroes and villains all looked almost real!

Jason Scott Campbell

OK la, this dude just did fantastic babes and there was nothing more sexploitational than his creator owned series Danger Girl about a team of super spy babes. Tongue in cheek but still fun. Fantastic therapy after a long mini bus ride home after work (back in the day)