Sunday, December 27, 2009

Back To Brunei

Sitting in the LCCT waiting for the flight to Bandar Seri Bagawan. Fed and stuffed from 2 days of stuffing my self over Christmas and yesterday's double wedding gorging session I'm feeling lethargic as a fully fed python. I've a meeting tomorrow morning which should be fruitful and an interview in the the afternoon which I hope to be able to carry off without coming across as the Grinch with Cactus Jack AKA Mick Foley stuffed up his ass, barbed wire bat included.

I'll be working right up to new year's eve so this year there is no such thing as taking a break at year's end. Its good in a way as we're getting a lot done. As much as we can anyway in the holiday lull.

I've not really been in any mood to write as it's been a trying coupla months and having to reevaluate my whole position in the universe at this stage of my life is weird. Not tragic, sad, catastrophic or even Tamil movie EMO. Just weird. I mean I've come to accept that Hannah Tan is not going to jump on my lap and stick her tongue down my throat anytime soon, NOT am I going to unsurp Kenny wathisface as Malaysia's top blogger but it's the overall feeling that I want to give up what I've done for the past 20 years for a fresh start.

Of course thats not going to happen. I am sorta good and what I do. A bit of one grumpy mother fuker but i have enough that there are folks out there who would like to work with me. But this gnawing feeling deep in my balls, no, gut? ass? whatever... fukit. its that itch I can't scratch that I need scratched. Bad.

This airport is quiet. Looks like Malaysia is feeling the post Christmas blues. OR the fukers are jamming up the roads leading up to every mall in the country and thankfully leaving the airport free of bawling brats, groups of loud loitering old ladies and old men grumpier than me. Yes, I'm not that grumpiest that ever was.

OK, the PA is talking something muffled. It should be me.




Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Carcosa Seri Negara - Last Call


The Carcosa Building

So we now have probably heard about the sketchy 'redevelopment plans' for Carcosa Seri Negara. All this is shrouded in typical Malaysian fashion where no clear information was obtained on tenders given and we understand that the current management was not even given time to put in a tender bid. This is Malaysia. I'm tired about the shadow play behind government doors.

SO.

I just hope they dont tear it down. This is the last lovingly restored piece of our history and it should be here for every Malaysian to bring their loved ones to immerse themselves in a time long gone and remembered only in old memories.

I spoke to a waiter and he said that the tender had either gone to Landmarks or YTL. Well if Francis Yeoh gets it he'll probably maintain the building but then afternoon tea would come at a cost of your first born child. Anyway the ends to the means eh wot old chap? Anyway the current tea set with scones, some tiny sandwiches will set you back RM60 per pax.


Upper floor corridors to the guest rooms in Carcosa

I come here about once a year. Either to spring a surprise on some unsuspecting date or to bring some English out of towner fresh of the plane from Blighty to let him enjoy some connection to his ancestors who ruled our land. But only this time around I'm buying and he's selling... (cheap ass thrill...)


Seri Negara Building

I normally come for breakfast where the crisp morning air compliments the strong coffee as I sit back and take it all in. In these century old buildings speaking in quiet tones is the order of the day. It's not enforced, just an automatic reaction almost, as if the buildings themselves were some regal old monoarchs who demanded your respect and discretion.


The main hall light at the Seri Negara entrance


The main entrace sign at the gates indicating directions to both buildings


Bart and Peekz having their afternoon cuppa.

On Monday I went with Peekz and Bart who figured we'd catch one last afternon tea at this grand old dame. Sadly they did not serve beer as they are closing down after Christmas. That means if you're reading this you've got a day and a half to enjoy a little bit of history! Pronto people!





Afternoon tea at the Carcosa

I wish many things. I wish we would love and protect our past. I wish we had people in power who would see this and embrace it. I wish a lot of things and just like that Megan Fox lap dance wish, many of my wishes bank on the actions of others. So it could mean fuck all OR the Prime Ministed is one of the few of you discriminating readers of this blog and he takes action to ENSURE that Carcosa stands till the end of times.

I found this note from Sir Frank Swettenham, the first Resident General of the Federated Malay States for whom the building was built for. He explains picking the name Carcosa. It is quaint and adds to the charm of it all.

Choice of name explained by Sir Frank Swettenham.

To the Editor of “British Malaya” [British Malaya, May 1936]

SIR,

In the April magazine your correspondent in Malaya asks me, in courteous terms, to tell him why I gave the name “Carcosa” to the house that was designed and built for me at Kuala Lumpur by the late Mr. C.E. Spooner, assisted by Mr. A.B. Hubback – as he was in those days – and I have no objection to answer the question even though the simple truth may spoil a number of excellent stories. When this house was finished and occupied I read a book which interested me. It was called “The King in Yellow” and at the beginning of this book there were some verses with a note explaining that they came from Cassilda’s song in “The King in Yellow”, Act 1, Scene 2. Here are two verses: -

“Strange is the night where black stars rise, And twin moons circle in the skies, But the stranger still is Lost Carcosa.”

“Song of my soul, my voice is dead; Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed Shall dry and die in Lost Carcosa.”

I did not call the Resident General’s dwelling “Government House,” or “King’s House,” because neither seemed an appropriate name in Protected States. I did not give it a Malay name, because it was to be the residence of a British Officer; so I took a book name as has often been done before.

As to the word Carcosa, I imagine it was the Castle of the King in Yellow, but the book explains nothing about either the place or its occupant. That apparently can be found in the play, to which there are only occasional allusions. Probably it is a word created by the author’s fancy, though it looks like a combination of the Italian words cara and casa and would mean “desirable dwelling,” as indeed I found it.

The only curious fact is that this name was prophetic for, as I understand, the house has lost its name and is thus, “Lost Carcosa.” The occupant, I am told, is now styled “F.S,” instead of “R.G.”

Yours obediently, FRANK SWETTENHAM

19 April, 1936.

For more on the background details on what is happening go HERE.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

But Then, Where DO They Come From?


Sign above a urinal in the Jusco Tebrau City Mall in Johor Baru.

I have NO idea how this is supposed to stop dudes throwing their ciggs into the piss pot. I assume its one of those mind fucking messages that get you to think "butt = shit = toilet bowl = throw cigg butt into bowl?. Who knows man... I dont claim to understand the mind of Johoreans (except the hot female types of course)

Thursday, December 17, 2009

James Cameron's Avatar - A Review



Oh this is one mighty fine looking movie. The graphics fleshing out the world of Pandora are truly magnificent, impressive and breathtaking. Oh wait... BREATHTAKING!

I guess the blase review is mainly as is the case with all big budget movies the actors or characters are mainly props to the CGI so you feel like you're just going through a guided tour of the world of Pandora.

You've got to watch it once at least for the love and attention given to bring the species, flora and fauna to life. The story itself is the same old cliche - soldier sent to spy on natives, falls in love, turns native, expected characters die, hero triumphs, hip hip hurrah.

Great scenes though, some literally breathtaking. Sorry, BREATHTAKING! Cool scenes -  The search and subsequent taming of the 'banshee' and when the 'enforcements from the sky' part of the final battle scene.

It seems like Cameron even recycled some prop elements from Alien - the power loader, the gunship looks like two drop ships from Alien glued together, etc.

Anyway did I mention that it was one darn pwetty picture to watch? It's quite fun in 3-D too.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Of Jakarta and The Hard Core Diaries

Over the years as I've raked up the travel miles I sometimes (a BIG SOMETIMES) try to pack according to the political and cultural nature of each country I visit. Don't wear red or yellow clothes at least for this year in Thailand, don't forget that the Philippine plug adapter and the Indonesian version dont fit into each other's sockets, don't bring fake dvd's in luggage if you're driving across the border to Singapore, etc.

Yesterday morning as I hurriedly packed my bags for a day trip to Jakarta I found myself contemplating the book I'm currently reading. It's called the Plunging Point by Lawrence Collins and Warren Read about the world of intelligence from an Australian perspective. With a mixed bag and sometimes strained relationships between the Aussies and the Indonesians I caught myself over thinking the situation. Well, my version of overthinking is,

"fukman,they'vegotstuffaboutheIndonesianshavingdoubleagentsinJakartaandthecrapfestthat wasEastTimorfuk(mental image of getting stopped at customs go tru mind for one half second), OKOKineedanotherbookfuk2hour flight....."

Yeah my over thinking is 2 seconds and a half.

I go over to my book shelf, a towerring celebration of the worlds greatest authors and thinkers and reach out instinctively for World Wrestling Entertainment's Hardcore legend Mick Foley's The Hardcore Dairies nestled between Marvel Comics Secret Wars compilation and Tucker Max's I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell (which I need to return to LCB).

Which immigration or home ministry officer would not be taken by the literary charm of Mrs Foleys boy? That and also that wrestling has a somewhat decent following in Indonesia (where at one time it was not called wrestling or WWE but instead 'smackdown' after the TV program title).

This trip I decided to chill it. No more rushing from airports to meetings. I got in early in the morning , went into a J Co donut shop, ordered up a peanut butter something and a blackberry something else with a latte. Pulled out Mick with the hot coffee enveloping me with warm fuzziness in the early morning air conditioning.



And I started to read. What can I say? It brought back memories. I had worked with Mick Foley once when he toured Asia. More on that in another post. I had loved the business of the WWE and respected the talent there. The book reminded me of what I've lost - belief and hope based on ideals and to make a simple yet meaningful life from what we've got. A Mick Foley book tells of one fat schmuck who got by by accepting his limitations and playing to his strentghs while never losing his love for his family or his craft.

Foley took chair shots for a living. He set himself on fire, got thrown off 20 foot steel cages, got hit by barb wired baseball bats, choke slammed on thumb tacks, etc BECAUSE he just wasn't talented enough. His only talent was absorbing huge amounts of pain and thus Foley and his various incarnations of Cactus Jack, Dude Love and Mankind went out there to make OTHER wrestlers look good.

BECAUSE I worked with the WWE for a while, his thoughts were my thoughts. References to events, people and mile stones were shared between the pages, myself and the two donuts on the table. Oh yeah, that latte too (dont want it to feel left out)

So I decided to smell some roses yesterday in Jakarta. I didn't rush for my meeting. I was early anyway. I went into the mall, found a toy shop, bought the Ice Dragon from McFarlane's collection, decided against buying the Warrior dragon as I would not be able to hide THAT when i get into the meeting. One just can't get a CEO to take one seriously with TWO plastic dragons peeping out from one's backpack.

Just before I board my flight, as i sit in the the chair getting a foot massage while playing sms ping-pong with the Tree Hugger and the Princess, I just realised that it was in Jakarta that I first met Mick Foley.

Ironic.

The first time a kind giant made me realise that sometimes we are lucky to choose to do something we love and get paid for it and it can only be ourselves that dictate our fates. That means we really can't blame anyone for the shit we may sometimes find ourselves wading through.


Have a nice day!

Friday, December 11, 2009

My 15 Minutes

I got interviewed for New Man mag last week and yesterday I got on NTV 7s breakfast show. I've been told to be a media slut to push the project i'm on.

The sacrifices one makes.

I've also been told I've a face only suitable for a WWE, UFC ringside action OR for an ad for constipation pills.

But seriously i WAS trying to smile.

Oh yeah and I've been told from the side profile I look presentable. Old ladies will flock to make me tea and serve me curry puffs. Full frontal and I look like I eat babies for breakfast.

My face is my bane for everlasting fame.

Damn you Kenny Sia, damn yooooouuuuu........

Sunday, December 6, 2009

The Most Destructive Ball In The Universe



The Nike T-90 Ascente, official ball for the English Premier League. Dont think old George has played any sports in his life but his legacy sure has seeped onto the sports arena on a larger scale. Who woulda thunk that Nike designers would finally get inspired by Palpatine's ball of destruction? I would like to think that the 3 bands around the ball are also inspired by the lasers/death beam thingy that forms the Death Star's destructive planet killing weapon.

Does George even know what an offside is? Do geeks even play sports? Would anyone below 20 years old even recognise the Death Star?



The Death Star ver.1.0. The original inspiration.

Thin Crust Extra Cheese with A Thunderstorm Please...

I'm an asshole.

But I'm hungry.

So what if there's a freaking raging storm outside?

My fridge is empty.

Did I mention that I'm hungry.

Really can't wait for this tree shaking, crazy banshee screaming storm to ease off just to feed the rumbling belly.

Self satisfaction over a conscientious thought for the less fortunate?

Fuck it.

Hope that Domino's Pizza delivery boy has a good storm jacket...

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Black Label - The Incredible Cure

It had worked before albeit unwittingly. Yesterday the pain in my lower back was not going away. I first hit Bar Madrid where Aileen the HOT owner kept me company as I downed two Guinness pints. Then I met Licia in, off all places, a KAROAKE. As me and karoakes go together like used tampons and chocolate ice cream I down Johnny Black.neat. from the bottle. I even play that dice game with someone's hot girl friend (double degree in engineering and law - how is it all the smart ones are taken?).

I start singing some John Denver song.

I realize I sound like a cat in heat.

I realize the room is silent as I wail on. Leslie Cheung fans stare in stunned silence.

I drink some more.

And some more.

Today AM. NOW.

The Pain is gone. just a teeny twinge but almost 100%.

SUCCESS. Thank you Johnny.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

The Eye Of the Needle...

The last time I did this was probably 5 years ago. It seemed easier then.

Maybe it was the Sunday afternoon rain storm that kept me going for a run in Gasing Hill (okok, a walk...)

Maybe I was being cheap.

Maybe it SEEMED simple.

Maybe it's my growing fondness for Miley Cyrus...

I tried sewing on some buttons on a shirt.

I didn't think it was that hard. How hard could it be anyway???

Let me count the ways...

1. Getting that cheap ass thread through the eye of the needle

2. Realizing the thread is frayed and wont go through easily. Trimming the damn thing.

3. Finding the right center spot for the button. A little too high or low and your shirt looks like it was put together by a drunk gorilla.

4. THEN realizing that I've go to knot the end or else i would end up pulling the whole thread through the button hole.

5. THEN figuring out what to do when you finish. I've got fingers fit for wrestling bears, NOT tying teeny weeny knots on microscopic pieces of thread.

It took me 20 minutes to sew the first button. 15 minutes for the second.

Damn, I'm a fast learner...

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Abs for Women



A lot of youse wimmen folk seek that flat washboard. A lot of you women think you will need to take on a fitness regimen of Amazonian proportions to achieve this. I, Chindiana have found a sample specimen who MAY have a fitness regime that might realistically give some tone to your tummies.

Ame (the babe above), is someone I know from the past (I thought using a sample of someone I know would be better than say using a Megan Fox picture and some fitness program her PR company drummed up).

She used to waitress part time at Online Pub which I frequented while holding down a day job in a design firm in Hartamas. She dabbles in modelling which she does for fun. I bumped into her a while back, exchanged details and i got to peek into some of her FB albums. I chatted with her the other day and asked her if she could share the secret to her Awesom Abs. She also allowed me to use these pictures here today.



These abs (which I can eat sushi off) are the product of a reasonable program that is quite accessible to women who are too busy with work, babies, the husband, boy friend, pet cat, dog, mother in law, etc etc.

SO.

What Ame does:

1. 100 crunches each minimum 3 times a week. Of course you can't do 100 from the start. Start easy the first week, then break up the session (30 x30x40) before finishing the full 100 without breaks (see, you don't have to go at it 10 times a day, everyday)

2. Watches her carbs (not completely wiping them out of her diet)

3. Drinks lots of water (which cleanses the system)

4. And muscle flexing - she tenses her abs a few times a day. You can do this a few times a day anytime anywhere, when you are driving, sitting at your workstation tapping away at the lap top, etc. The key is holding in the tummy for a prolonged period, letting go and then tensing again,

Anyway, is not that hard and the evidence is above. Just need to apply a little discipline girls.

So lets get on it! Washboard Abs and Beyond!

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Conversations I Should Not Be Listening To...

Ladies, take note this posts contains juvenile male content.

You're in a bar. Waiting for a Malaysian who is obviously on Malaysia timing. The second beer is going down reluctantly. Drinking solo in a bar without a sports channel on OR woman who qualifies as Mighty Fine is annoying at best. Today, boredom added to the itch in my ass that I just could not get rid off.

Behind me, a thread of one of those faceless conversations catch my ear:

"That breast juicy man! Can eat whole day!"

"Eat? You just bite and suck like baby man!" (followed by raucous laughter)

"Breast where got taste la? I might as well eat my own! Skin is skin wat. Not like a woman's breast taste like tom yam!" (fuk man, don't ask me, i'm just recounting)

"Ya la farkerr, your breast taste like dog hair! Hahahahaha!

In my world, normality is a sin.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Johor Baru

Over the weekend (Saturday) I had to fly into JB for short meeting. I get in at 8.30am and am done by 10.30am. I can't get an earlier flight so am stuck with the 6.50pm return.

What does one do in JB? I don't particularly like JB although I think Johor has some of the hottest coolest babes around.

My affinity for JB is almost at a zero. I enjoyed the Ponster's fantastic yearly birthday bashes at the jungle retreat in Pulai. She made my trips to JB fun BUT on any other occasion I've had far from pleasing experiences. ONE main occasion has burnt a negative spot of JB in my mind.

Running a week long event in JB a coupa years ago, the town reared its ugly colors showing me that the supposed 'lies' in the Singapore media of JB being a lawless city could have a grain of truth. It was one of those crazy stays where you think you're in a Tucker Max movie (minus the endless sexual debauchery).

NOTE - Pictures are random takes from the web.



DAY ONE - there is a riot in the mall when the crowd gets over aggressive over a cheap housing promotion. Riot police (FRU) called in. My staff are threatened by the some members of the public when they are asked for free t-shirts by passersby who see our promotion booth. They are threatend with:

1. "tunggu kat luar, aku belasah"

2. "you ingat baju tu emas ke?"

3. flips the bird at our promoters (this was a 60 year old man)


The riot police move in 2 hours later. Being consistent with the JB mentality, one of them struts over (after the crowd has been put under control) and proceeds to ask us for a free t-shirt. His response to our negative answer is similar to the badly brought up crowd stated above with the exception of the extra threat of a waving police baton.


DAY TWO ; My client pulls out of a road shoulder. The car behind him, obviously irked that someone has challenged his manhood, speeds up, chases him down and runs him off the road.



DAY THREE - someone throws a dead cat onto the car of my client's rep in the area of the apartments we rented for some of the crew.


DAY FOUR - we go to a club to destress. We have a large group with us with hot promoter girls and members from our outdoor adventure consultants. - We are given the stare down when we get in and are warned by the bouncer - "we don't care if it's your fault or not. Even if our regulars starts trouble with you, we are kicking your ass." We feel touched by JB hospitality and move on to another bar. Again we get the dirty looks so end up drinking beers in a Chinese coffeshop somewhere near the Duty Free zone.

The same night, one of our staff has his car scratched outside the hotel.



DAY 5 - My outdoor consultants, bored in their hotel, hitch up some ropes to their beds and abseil out the hotel window about 20 stories from the ground. I'm given warning slightly before hotel management finds out.



DAY 6 - I'm walking back to the hotel about 4am, after making sure everyone has paid our bill at the one club that would let us in. Something in front of me 'flows' onto the street. Its greenish yellow under the streetlight. My mind does not comprehend. I think its some sludge. Then. It rears it's head and looks at me. Again my mind does not know what I'm seeing. My body is still walking towards it. I'm sober I know that. I look about the street and there is no one else there to verify that I am looking at a HUGE motherfucking snake in the middle of Johor Baru city. After about a minute, it recoils back into the darkness. My mind is still numb. Wondering how a python could get away chilling out in the concrete jungle.

The next morning I look our from my hotel (the Pan Pacific) and see a huge undeveloped land right next to the hotel (this was about ten years ago).

This was just some of the main incidents - we had other shit - love triangle among our vendors, an agency sending in some young bimbo to seduce my stupid outsourced event manager so he would bungle up our project, the last minute and almost daily hops into Singapore to help out another colleague there with another project AND being set up by the scum customs officers at Tuas who made us pay them money for not filling up some vague form (the currency declaration form which was outdated. When I showed them proof that I did not have to fill in the form when I used the Causeway they said "it lain, Tuas lain" followed by the threat they if we didn't pay they had the right to hold us for 6 hours. Since we were driving back and were already tired from a week long stay in JB, we settled up paying the clown RM150 to stop hassling us.

All this. IN JUST ONE WEEK.

So JB. There is not real reason to go there. AND it's true in some areas that Singaporeans are hassled in JB. I've Singaporean friends who loved coming into JB and on to Melaka for golf over the weekends. They've now stopped as they've been extorted twice in JB and so have some of their friends. Even the cab driver who took me back to the airport admitted that the sense of lawlessness perv ails in SOME parts of JB.

What DOES one do in JB? Cheaper accommodations for day trips into Singapore? Golf in Pulai? I've not other idea man.

AH CHAN! sorry i accidently published the unfinished post on Sunday morning!

Thursday, November 19, 2009

5 Things A Woman Can Say To Turn Me On

1. "You mean you like toys? That's so cool! You ever heard of the Spawn Series?"

2. Chindi - "Be careful, if you let go of the rope you'll hit the rocks below."

Girl X (after looking at the steep fall) - "Guess I wont have time to feel any pain huh?"


3. Chindi Part 2 - "FAK! just hold on! don't let go! Dont swing away from the rocks!"

Girl X (says calmly as she looks at the 200 meter fall onto jagged rocks below) - "Ummm... I think I'm getting a little scared now..."

Chindi - "Ahhhh, I'll have to grab your bum to pull you in!!!"

Girl X (just as calmly as earlier - "yeah sure, grab it now please."

4. Imagine this - I'm 17, the best female runner in the state calls out to me from the field - "Chindi, why you going back so fast? Wanna follow me get canai after I warm down?"

5. ~Nokia ring tone~ "Hey I'm at the London comic Con. They've got the Vader replica light saber on sale. Do you want one? I think I can get it packaged with a Clone trooper mini bust also."

Hmmm....

Another reason why i'm still single?

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

My Father's Son

Holy Genealogical Disasters Batman!

One of my utter most fears is rearing it's ugly head, hissing a ballad of anger and frustration. What I swore I never would be is now manifesting itself, a creeping surge of angst pulling a short fuse from my ass to my head.

My dad was Mr Quiet.  A great friend and one of the cool guys with a lot of friends. As his business ventures went to shit and he got used by so called 'good people' he degenerated into a scowling loner, venting his anger and frustrations at all and sundry. Eventually it did not help that he took to hiding out in a project in the forest reserve of Negri Sembilan and in my own personal words "he went native". He spent more time with the orang asli, Indonesian and Bangladeshi workers in the jungles than his own family. I am no saint. I dont go back home much. I really should not be judging but I'm just venting. Sometimes I dont even know if I use work as an excuse so I am not caught up with his moods whenever I get back to S'ban.

The most important thing he did to me was when he told me at the age of 15 "You don't have to ask me permission for anything anymore. Do anything you want, but if you get into any mess you sort it our yourself as I won't help you".  

Man, that messes with your head. 

Freedom comes with a disclaimer. So, I did whatever I did BUT with always a second thought. I watched my first porn at 17. Drank my first beer at 17. Got shitfaced drunk only when I was not driving. Only snuck into the all girls school at night only when we knew there were at least 2 escape routes, never did drugs in school, never smoked a cigarette unless hiking in the jungle (a shitty bug repellant) and ran away the first time a girl asked me to kiss her - 15 half. OKOK, that had nothing to do with second thoughts. It scared the shit out of me AND she was 17! C'mon give me a break...

Anyway, I've seen a good man degenerate into an angry frustrated older man. I'm sure he has unfulfilled dreams although it seems he has what any man ones - retired, a lovely hill side getaway home on a hill overlooking the Seremban valley with a forest reserve as his garden, 2 beautiful (and notorious) grandchildren, a loving a patient wife and one grumpy ass son who appears every 76 years riding on Halley's Comet's ass.

I see that now in the mirror every morning. Peekz asked me if I was like this all the time. I caught myself before replying a quite "no'. I had dreams. I wanted to make this world a better place. I used to be fun and I was considered one of the good guys. In the words of the Ex - "you're like that Jewel song - fashionably sensitive but too cool to care".

Now I'm fashionably nothing and one grumpy pain in the ass. How did I get this way?

By letting it get to me. By taking every job personally and blaming every moron and his pet ferret if they could not meet my demands. Shouting up a storm if office politicians committed crimes against humanity and especially getting personal when some bartender tells me they dont serve Perfect Pints of Guinness because they dont have enough glasses. (fuck you Laundry bar! Fuck my wing ass)

There is no way I'm going down the Daddy Chindiana path. No way am i going to be 67 and acting up the Grinch for the rest of my life. Baby steps first. 

Today I wont get mad. 

Today I going for Yoga.

Tomorrow I hope to get that Yoga instructor's phone number.

Thursday I book my flight to KK - Nex and I will road trip from KK to Brunei in December. Its not far but I haven't been down the trunk roads of East Malaysia. Road trips with Nex are always fun.

Saturday I send in my proposals for a new project in 2 countries. If one bites, Operation Bar By The Beach will be one tiny step closer. In 3 years I'm going to wake up to the sounds of waves breaking on the shores and the wind rustling the leaves of the palm fronds on my porch.

I hope this is not the same dream my dad had.....


Friday, November 13, 2009

My Grandchildren Will Not Need Credit Cards

"ring ring!"

"Hello?"

Machine voice - "Your credit card payment is overdue. Please call us to find out your outstanding bill?"

WTF?

Now they don't even have the decency to ask you personally to pay your balance? I've got to CALL back?

Banks, hospitals, insurance companies all claiming to work towards preparing us all for a safer, financially secure and healthy future are no better than flesh eating, zombie cats hiding behind false smiles and greedy eyes.

My kids (if ever I get around to this ~shudder~) will trade with vintage GI Joes, the original Star Wars plastic caped Jawa, gold, a coupla vintage Barbie dolls and of course multiple editions of every Miley Cyrus record every produced.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Bored In An Airport


Welcome to my life...



You haul ass through the Bangkok traffic. You think you're late. The cabbie bolts up a ramp and hits the highway and pretty soon Suvarnabhumi Airport appears in front like a monstrous giant metallic octopus under the bright Thai sunshine.

"Holy fuck, where did that shortcut come from...?"

Daaaaaaaaaaammit. Now I've got almost 2 hours to kill in an airport that really gives me nothing to do. Luckily there's still some juice in the camera's batteries. I kill time with by wondering around the airport snapping away.

A heron (or is it a crane) sits contemplating the intricacies of the psyche of travellers of the world who live via the various conveyor belts of transportation mediums as they hurry from one continent to another just to discuss lines of words on crisp sheets of newly printed paper from their secretaries Canon's...


What happens to annoying kids who get lost in airports - they get turned into candy dispensing Autobots


One lost pagoda/shelter/whatever


The Swirls! The Swirls!

Monday, November 9, 2009

I Love Makeovers


Harley Quinn from the old Batman the Animated Series cartoon
(created almost 20 years ago)



Her latest incarnation in the Batman:Arkham Asylum Eidos game.
Kids, they just grow up so fast don't they?

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Sales Men

Ironic that the cultural gap has not decreased in the years of so called professed globalization. I love it when European or American sales dudes make a call following the age old mantra of:

- Be aggresive
- Never take NO for an asnwer
- Badger/beat down their resistance
-Only one product is King and you have it.
- MAKE THE SALE TODAY.

The Asian way is of course;
- non confrontational
- It is rude to turn someone down abruptly (even if they are trying to sell you a 3 legged warthog)
- Must get general company consensus before committing to a purchase

If thought balloons were part of the physical world, daily exchanges between Western salesmen and potential Asian buyers would go somethings like this:

Juergen Bubba Yeltsin : "Good Morning Mr Ah Beng, I'm calling from Infinity Warthog and Son. I'm sure you've heard of us. We're the regional giants in the supply of three legged warthogs who make excellent receptionists. We hear that you're expanding regionally in the market so we would like to work with you to meet your expansion needs as we feel that we can very much be a part of supplying elements to your brand DNA?"
THINKS TO SELF : "Oh yeah, Juergen's gonna ace this. You need what I have but you just dont know it yet Chongy boy"

Chong Ah Beng : "Ahhh, Good morning, good morning."
THINKS TO SELF "Huh? ma lan hai sei gwai lo... Not yet finish my kopi and yee cha kueh and the cibai early early call already."

JBY - "Well Mr. Ah Beng, we actually sent the proposal to your Group Chairman last month but it seems you're actually in charge. We didn't mean to overstep your position. So I'd like to touch base as I assume you've already seen our proposal that we've cut off a bulk off the initial purchase price. This is the best deal you're going to be getting in the market for this quarter. Can I put you down for 3 warthogs and 2 ferrets?"

CAB - "Yes i give your proposal to my staff to read"
THINKS TO SELF - "MR CHONG la. You think everybody want to put family name in the backside like you meh" (NOTE - most asians would never correct this mistake as it would result in a loss of face for the foreigner AND their western counterparts would normally be embarrassed when they find out this doodoo - does not include the younger gen educated abroad.)

JBY - "So I tell you what, how about you get a report back from your staff and then I'll call you tomorrow say after lunch and we can close the deal?"
THINKS TO SELF - "c'mon. c'mon you sunavabitch, what the fuck, can't you make a decision? what kind of a director are you?"

CAB - " Can, can. No probrem. Tomorrow you call me la."
THINKS TO SELF - "WTF this gwailo - he think my staff work so fast ah? His fucking proposal already 80 cibai slides. Sure the fucking contract 500 pages dunno wat the fuker hide inside there. Call me tomorrow la kanenai. After lunch I think I go Cititel third floor look for Ah Girl give me Hot and Cold service."

JBY - " I tell you what Chong, how about I speak to your staff in charge of the review. Maybe I can help him along."
THINKS TO SELF - "Hopefully your staff has more brains and balls to make a call you little twit"

CAB - "Can, can. You speak to Manimaniam Karrupiah. His England very good. Your product is good but must get my deparment all to agree first lor"
THINKS TO SELF "Wah lau...fuker no give me face! Now think want up me. OK lor, you want tokok I let you tokok ler. Better I call my cousin sister. Think she can give me 4 legged warthog plus one extra new aircon for my house."

JBY - Thats fantastic Chong. Good man! I can see we're a great fit together. I tell you what, you get the proposal signed off tomorrow and I can get you the final contract in your hands by teatime. 
THINKS TO SELF - Thats right prick. You're going to take what I give you. One deal done even before the morning coffee gets cold. How cool is that?" 

CAB  - "Thanks you, thanks you. We talk again tomorrow ok?"
THINKS TO SELF - Sign? Sign my cock ah! Coffee now cold. Tiu, how to eat my yee cha kueh now?

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

And They Call Me....

Gotta admit, this is a FIRST AND so way out from left field!

I left a comment on Ashley's blog and one of her friends who commented agreed with the views of Chindiana who she figured was really called.......

wait.....

WAIT.......

WAIT FOR IT.......

DIANA CHIN

-_-

As Ash pointed out - I wrestle bears for breakfast my whole life and then I get called girls names. All those scars putting the smackdown on those ferocious beasts for nothing. Those bears finally have the last laugh....

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Sunday

In Singapore's Changi airport now. we should be boarding now. The plane is actually already here. Way cool being 40 minutes early. Either that or the pilot can't wait to turnaround for belated happy hours back in KL. Am tired. The weeks of regular travel is catching up with me. I need something to pep me up. Megan Fox waiting at home to lap dance the fatigue away when I get home would be nice. Would help if she had a tub of ice cream and a thong. sometimes these are the things that keep me happy for the next 3 hours before I walk through the apartment door smelling like a pig's armpit.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Happy Halloween!


Nice pic from NASA. Love the satellite bat. Didn't think they had a sense of humour in those sterile walls...

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Friday Quote

" It is an ancient and venerated custom of people in my country to start a story by praying to a higher power. I guess, Your Excellency that I too should start off by kissing some god's arse.

Which god's arse though? There are so many choices. See, the Muslims have one god. The Christians have three gods. And we Hindus have 36 million gods. Making a grand total of 36 million divine arses for me to choose from."

- excerpt from, The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga

Note - Thanks to Ah Chong for the sharingzzzz

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Help Wanted. Mahatma, Mother Theresa and Jesus, Are You In the House?

The project is throwing up truck loads of crap by the week. Fueled by greed, narrow mindedness and self serving politics the project is draining my team that is already bogged down by by fire fighting the results of human fallacies. We already haven't moved forward in 2 weeks.

Used to moving fast and decisively it's been astounding at the amount of time trying to smoothen over sensitive egos, trying to maneuver around the odd requests for more money, suppliers recommended by supposedly friendly parties who are trying to take us for a ride, wolves in their best sheep clothing trying to sabotage the project from within, and so forth.

The young team that I had assembled who enlisted on the call to create a dream out of idealism is now suddenly recovering from the toils of working with self serving culprits. Yes we know this happens in the real world but how consistently it has manifested itself in all around us is scary. Nightmare On Elm Street scary.

SO.

I need some old war horses to prop up my team. I need to keep them fresh and idealistic for more battles ahead. I need EXPERIENCE and PATIENCE and CONTROL and CALM and THE ABILITY TO SEE THE GOOD EVEN IN ALL THINGS SCUM FUCKED.

SO.

If any of youse has the following people on speed dial or MSN please ask them to email me at chindianatrails@gmail.com (they have been strongly recommended by my head hunting company of Fett and Son) :

Mahatma Gandhi - Sales
The ability to convince and educate narrow minded Marketing Directors that they need not listen to their ad agencies all the time. Essential to show them the strength to thread new directions in marketing strategies

Mother Theresa - Client Servicing
Patience is essential in handling bullying clients with ridiculous demands.

Buddha - Regional Government Relations
'nuff said.

Jesus - Finance
The ability to turn ass holes into saints and a wrecked balance sheet into the Garden of Eden

Genghis Khan - Credit Controller
To simply ensure our collection is on schedule. Ability to maim when confronted with answers such as "my director not around to sign" or "sorry we spelt your company with two extra ii's and the odd 'z' and 'q on the check. Give us another 3 weeks and we'll send you another check after our director comes back from holiday"

Saturday, October 24, 2009

MIley Cyrus - Party In The U.S.A. - Official Music Video (HD)

Admitting to liking a Miley Cyrus song is like Beckham admitting to wearing this wife's panties.

.................

scratch that.

It would be like Stallone admitting he hugs stuffed Hallot Kitty dolls in bed or that Alex Ferguson letting on that he wears Liverpool boxers.

It would be like ME admitting that I'm bopping to Party in the USA while driving on the Federal Highway stuck up to my ass full of cars during the after office Friday snarl-up.

I feel slightly sheepish but Holy Teeny Boppers Bopping Batman! This little ditty is infectious!

Play this on a Monday morning! That coffee will taste much better. You'll be transported back to a simpler time with padded shoulder pads, school uniforms that were always one size too large or too small and getting in trouble in school for sporting a mullet.

Me shy. Please don't tell my staff.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Daffodils

I haven't been writing as prolifically as I used to. The current project has kept me in a state of extreme tension filled grumpiness that would shame a castrated rabbit. This was succinctly
pointed out to me by Angiechong last night ironically during a screening of Tantarino's Inglorious Basterds.

"I'm not in the mood"

"Just write about something. Anything. Something happy!" she chirped sunnily. "Like flowers!"

An uncomfortable 5 seconds of silence ensues.....

"I dont know anything about flowers woman. Which one do you want?"

'Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.........ummmmmmmmmmmmm..... how bout daffodils?"

SO.

Here we are.

Daffodils.

Are yellow. I think. Maybe sometimes blue when they they have too much whisky. Daffodils grow in less humid conditions as I've never heard a woman in Malaysia ask for them by name. Except for blog post requests to the most famous unknown blogger in Malaysia. They're probably all the range in Europe and the US of A.

The buggers grow in God's good earth that is being screwed up the ass by the the Lord's most favored Children. In the future it is certain that we will be witnessing the rise of a mutant breed of daffodils created from contaminated soil and acid rains. They will have 4 legs, raise up to about 4 feet tall (what? you were expecting Godzilla like proportions? C'mon this is real!), will learn how to operate heavy machinery with panache and are somewhat creatively inclined, often claiming credit for the invention of colored contact lenses. Daffodils are all called Bob as they are able to converse with the world only in Jamaican.

Sometimes they like to sample the happy hours at Brussels as the Hoegarden special is especially pleasing. Otherwise good old H20 in any form will suffice.

Daffodils posses the charm of playful kittens therefore making great flirts and the occasional FUBU. Having said all that daffodils are know to be somewhat hopeless romantics when it comes to Jennifer Aniston movies.

Sometimes in the wee hours of the morning before the sun breaks the sullen darkness of the pre-dawn night, Daffodils can be see practicing the ancient art of 'tai-chi' under trees in the park with a boom box softly playing Mariah Carey.

Daffodils. A wonder of the world.

Fin.

Friday, October 16, 2009

The Nectar of The Gods - Ice Cold Heineken

I've been walking like a geriatric penguin since Monday. The back spasms had not receded. Interestingly I managed to put in a pull battery to tests in an attempt to ease the annoying and sometimes painful jab of pain whenever my back was mis-aligned during the rigours of my day to day romps.

Monday - I try to run about a futsal court to ease the pain. Seems fine during the game but pain comes back with a vengence Tuesday morning.

Tuesday morning - I realize its probably a combo of mental stress, physical stress from lugging a heavy back pack over the weekend excursions to Singapore and Jakarta, sever lack of sleep - 3-4 hours a day for the past 2 weeks, late nights and my birthday drinking binge. All this syndromes camped up on my already badly abused lower back.

So - I hit my old faithful the Chinese acu pressure dude - who proceeds to grind away at my 'chi' points. Funny thing 'chi'. It BLOODY MOVES about your body. The pain on the wing and top half of my back eased up quite well BUT when i stood up I had this weird sensation rushing down into my groin area and my legs. As i half collapsed to the ground all I could remember was growling 'whatthefuk wei!!!" Acupressure Dude excitedly said it was the chi moving out from the sore points. He had another round of massaging the points and told me to go home and drink lots of water.

Fail - now i had legs of rubber. Walking like a drunk duck, with my ass sticking out miserablly behind me as i was too stiff to stand up straight.

I figured I'd just go home early and rest - hand phone off and no checking email. I pull out Season One of Reaper, bought some crisps and drinks and camped out on the sofa the entire evning and slept at 10pm. - no bloody help.

Wednesday - pain now only concentrated at lower back and left wing muscles. Legs back in working order. Today was a trying day I had an event in the evening and more work in the morning. Could not take a break.

I arrive at the event at about 6.30pm. They have set up the best VIP hospitality suite. I manage to refrain from drinking anything. By the halfway mark I have to conduct a meeting so hold court in the VIP suite. Of course one does not let his guest drink alone. I call up a Heineken. Meeting quickly finishes. Old friend turns up - Heineken 2. My staff is stressed so buy her a cold beverage and order up Heiny 3. I start running about to sort somethings out with a bottle in hand. And. The. Pain. Is. Gone.

No more.

Just a little twinge but otherwise all good.

:D

So what is this you ask in disbelief? Well, its called Happy Hour for a reason innit? Happy is the best muscle relaxant in the world. And the mental pysche plays a HUGE part in what your brain says to your body.

So if you booze addled brain is humming "Sweet Home Alabama" in a dangdut beat, the rest of your body is going to be a happy camper too.

Anyway the pain is almost gone. The x-rays show no bone drama although I think I will need an MRI soon. Just no time this week.

So. Strongly recommended in times of trouble, forget looking into the skies for a man in blue spandex or calling your girl friend's rich dad - head down to the closest bar and order up an ice cold friend (with crispy luncheon meat side order) and the wonders of the world will envelope your being in zen-ish fuzziness. Where the world is a better place filled with laughter and slightly slurring exchanges of drunken wisdom from all and sundry who have more than 4 mugs of golden goodness.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Randomness

The back spasms are back. So i figured since i was already in pain the natural decision was to go and try to work it out with a game of futsal.

I know. I'm brilliant. Enstein's looking down from Heaven thinking "that's one smart peanut. Good looking too.."

So here I am, feeling sorry for myself (AGAIN) and cuddling up to my hot water bottle, wondering how to entertain the millions and millions of you readers who worship the random ranting the the most famous unknown blogger on the planet. (Damn you Kenny Sia, Damn YOU!!! You've made Malaysians worship paid advertising blogs! )

Tomorrow i read contracts, try to make sense of some TV deals while trying to kick start my marketing program with the budget of a stale McChicken and a coconut husk full of monkey crap. Ingenuity will be the order of the day. Unfortunately I'm rarely ingenius without at least 3 jugs of Henieken and two vodka Red Bulls.

I scared the office cleaning lady last Friday. I had come into the office at 7am and was working on the lap top with just one light on. I heard she told someone that she saw something disturbing through the glass and thought it was an angry spirit. Must remember to smile photogenically when trying to open a FRAKKIN' Mac powerpoint presentation that has not been converted...

Somehow the favor i asked to postpone a flight has been pushed to next week - this is the Bali trip where I'm supposed to take on Mount Agung. 6 hours of pain to the top and another 6 down. The back is bad. I havent done anything for the last two weeks. My knees are still dodgy and the descent should fuk both knees up my ass (whatever that means).

SO. Bali. What to do?

1. Hit the beach

2. Head to Batur Lake and reexplore the Sounther caldera and chill by the lake.

3. Find some hot adventorous woman and book up a resort among the padi fields in Ubud

4. Take on Agung and pay the price for my foolishness (so far I'm going alone.Nex! want come?)

5. Take on Agung with a hot adventorous woman and book that resort in the padi fields in Ubud.

Friday, October 9, 2009

THis is a first

Age must REALLY catching up with him. The stress of the past week is catching up bad. For the first time my body is reacting to stress with my back acting up. The spasms had been gradually increasing as the shitpile grew higher over the day as someone lied to me, a bunch of people are potentially going to disrupt the most important day of the year and another is going around breaking promises.

I can't sit longer than 20 minutes without the back sizing up. AND i have to hit Singapore and Jakarta and back to KL in the next two days.

Hope I'm not forced to use a squat toilet for a petai shit in the meantime...

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Me - Good

I am special. I have faith. I'm good at what I do. I have faith in myself and my abilities. I just need to be reminded of it. I've been through a lot worse. The scale is different and the arsehole count is higher this time around but what is this compared to scaling the  17,000 ft Thronglar Pass with a stomach knotted up with gastric for 12 hours, or having to running an international event that was internally sabotaged by TWO vendors up to the final hour or walking home 5km with a fractured ankle (okok, the swelling eased the pain factor a little) or living for 6 months on RM5 a day?

I know me and my fantastic staff will sit back a year from now and laugh it off. For now the battle rages.

Monday, October 5, 2009

40

So i'm 40 as of yesterday. i woke up with a hang over, had a surprise lunch party thrown by my sister and cousins and wrapped it up when a hot friend dropped by to buy me dinner.

Its just a number but one does feel a sense of mortality. I'm 40. Is it worth getting married?Probably. Only because i've got someone to remind me where i've left my dentures in my old age. Kids? now thats the billion dollar question. For one I dont want to be chasing some hyper child in my 50s or worse dealing with some emotional teenager when I'm 60. Unless of course I get hitched to a 20-somthing now. She can handle the brats. And I'll concentrate on bringing in some moolah. AND worse with all those diaper bills I doubt I would have enough cash to continue buying my action figures (no they're NOT dolls...)

Even though I dont feel it the body is not the same. I'm not as quick on the football fields. The explosive power in my legs has now been transferred to an explosive temper. I can't hold booze as I used to. I take longer to recover from a hangover. I just can't get by with 4 hours sleep anymore as I used to.

This morning as I woke up to the full moon in the western sky I realized that there is a clock counting down. 

But its not a clock. Its just a timeline to check the boxes on a To Do List:

1. Climb every mountain and volcano before 45

2. Head to Antartica and Mongolia before 43.

3. If I want kids get married before 43 (ideally someone younger with a giving heart and the athletic flexibility of a porn star)

4. IF I'm going down the kid path I have to sort out the steady cash flow issue by 41. 

5. IF i'm going to waive the kid clause then just continue dating until I find that someone who can track dentures even in the dark. By smell.

6. I've to watch the health meter - the wanton boozing has to stop. the old liver aint what it used to be. I'm sure there are other issues lurking in a body abused over the years.

7.  Prep to move out of city or immigrate - the city is getting to me.  I see a life of travelling. I already do that but I'm hoping it wont be just for work. The plans are in motion. Sabah is back up although Bali or Indonesia is looking good but then i'd have to figure out how to outrun quakes and lava in my twilight years. New Zealand whispers also on the borders of my wanderlust. 

Tough week ahead. Back to normality.

Lunch and dinner offers pouring in still. Looks like my birthday celebrations will last a week. Nice. I'm almost as cool as Deepavali.... 

Thursday, October 1, 2009

The Earth Below

Surprising how humans respond to the unexpected. The tremors from the Sumatran earthquake was felt in KL yesterday evening. I was in a meeting when the table started quivering. I just thought the lady i was meeting was bored and was thumping the bottom of the table with her knees. Until she got up and left the room. She was unawares of the then swaying table (slightly). Another guy walked in and asked if we felt it. The sales dude across just said loudly that we were imagining things. Surprisingly there was no panic in the office. We just finished the meeting but then took the stairs down.

Funny that a lot of people had evacuated the buildings. And were staring at the top of the buildings. I mean if your building is shaking, one would assume the fault would lie in the foundations. Unless you've got Godzilla and King Kong perched on the roof having teh tarik and curry puffs.

Anyway I insisted that whatever it was it was probably far away or else we would have been fucked anyway. I really needed a beer after a long day and as long as the bar across the road was still standing I was heading back indoors.

The initial reports we got were outdated news - we berry googled immediately and were informed about the day old news about the tsunami in Samoa and NOT the actual earthquake in Padang, Sumatra. If we felt it here I think the death toll is going to be a lot higher than 20 people.

So we have a tsunami and an earthquake in the region a day apart. Even when I was going to Manado a few months back, Dee a friend of mine from Indonesia had already warned me about hiking the volcanoes as most of the volcanoes in Indonesia - Bali, Manado , etc had recently become active. So the signs were there. The Ring of fire around the Pacific rim is/was getting active. Something was going on down there.

At least the property prices in Bali might go down a little. Anyone want to share in investing in some beach front property?

Sunday, September 27, 2009

When Snakes Take over paradise

Overbooking at Kinabalu Mountain
How does one had over the management of a Unesco Heritage site to a private company that marks up all services by more than 150% to 200%?

How is it with the increase, hikers up to Mount Kinabalu turn up at 9,000 ft and find out there is no space to sleep?

How is it that the boys from Sutera Harbour who've taken over from Sabah Parks, blame conflicting online booking programs?

Why is it that the government should pay to set up a new and more expensive integrated programs for them?

Why bail them out? How did they get the deal in the first place? Are the guides and rangers better paid?

Native Land
Nex, correct me if I'm wrong - Native land titles in Sabah cannot be transferred to off spring upon death? The government takes it back? I don't take it many natives sit in your state gov building eh?

Anyone got any anti-grumpy pills?

The Radio After Midnight

Why is it they play great music when almost everyone is not listening to the radio? I arrived home about half an hour ago but ended up sitting in my car as Light and Easy played the Commodores Night Shift, Reminiscing by The Little River Band and Fairground Attraction's Perfect one after the other. I would've stayed in the car longer if that beer i had earlier didn't insist on leaving so soon after the party started.

Format radio has killed the soul of music. We're force fed Lady Gaga, Rihanna and every wannabe gangster rapper with his own clothing line. The 'DJ' in the station pretty much just fills up space in idle chatter while the pre programmed shite that's been dictated by the higher ups jams up the airwaves.

Do you think anyone will say "I gotta watch Lady Gaga/Rihanna/Beyonce before I die" ?

Nope.

U2? Definitely.

Akon? Only when pigs start piloting commercial aircraft.

Damn, I sound like my father.....

Must check the Menopause Clock...

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Twinkle Twinkle Various Indian Versions

Wahahaha! I can't pick out how many styles there were besides from the state of Kerala and of course the Punjabi finale.

And dont tell me that Punjabi version didn't crack you up!

Sunday, September 20, 2009

The Honest Scrap Awards.

Well, well, guess what? I've been bestowed the Honest Scrap Awards by fellow blogger Carlos from Austin, Texas.

It's basically the same as getting tagged but here you list down 10 things no one knows about yourself. Carlos has rocked the system by making all this recipients to only list down 9 soon NOT to be secret facts about themselves.

Since I'm going to be a famous blogger and need to show a penchant for the brilliant, I shall now make every recipient of the Honest Scrap Awards for Asia to list down 8 hitherto unknown tidbits about themselves. Carlos dude, if you're reading this, 8 is THE lucky number in Asia, especially among the Chinese. It's literally translated to 'luck'.

This is going to be weird. I can't say to much as you'll all figure out that I live a dodgy life wrestling toy bears before breakfast... D'OH!!!!!

Here goes:

8 things you folks don't know about me.

1. I've been told on the rare occasion I snore, its like a bear trying to give birth to a camel that's got Shaquille O'Neil tied to its ass. DISCLAIMER - I only snore if i'm drunk on whisky which is rare. Twice a year only!

2. I listen to Kylie Minogue when I'm stressed at home. She makes me happy :)

3. Transvestites scare me. A little.

4. I 'borrowed' a wine barrel from a pub once when no one was looking.

5. When I expect someone to royally fuck up AND THEY DO, it really REALLY pisses me off. Don't ask me why. It's like I feel like they've disappointed me by not upping their game. I then proceed to quietly drown my pissed-offness in several pints of Guinness.

6. In my whole life clubbing all over the world, I've had my ass squeezed in clubs or bars on various occassions to a grand total of 2 women, 2 gay men, 1 straight man and one 6 foot transvestite. I did accept the tranny's offered Heineken though. Never turn down free beer. PLUS she was in a sari so I could prob outrun her in case she wanted her reward.

7. I have a low tolerance for bratty kids. Give me one of those Nerf guns with the suction darts and put the little punk on the other team...

8. I have this habit of singing/humming Chantal Kreviazuk's version of John Denver's 'Leaving On a Jet plane' just after i check into any airport in the world. Of course it's out of tune and normally young children and animals in the immediate vicinity start dropping into a state of coma.

There you have it. Painless no?

AND as is the wont of these Awards, I have to nominate 8 of you to spill the beans on your deepest darkest secrets. I'm going with a list of folks whose blogs I regularly read. Aaaaaanddd the unlucky victims are:

1. Nex - my old buddy from 'those days' whose living in paradise and yet bitching about having to spend a weekend in a mall with hot Filipino women

2. S'wak - The customizer extraordinaire and movie geek! And that's just his hobby!

3. Jun-E - the PHD student who will one day be the Secretary General of the United Nations and finally clean up this shit hole that the planet is turning into

4. Han Solo - one of the earliest blogs that I used to visit and my teh tarik kaki whenever she gets back to KL. Sorry missed the last few rounds Solo - Selamat Hari Raya yo.

5. Sam (Wak this way) - A Malaysian stuck in Ireland with a beautiful wife, a great practice and a cool photographer! Get's a bit nervous when Balinese old ladies say "picit, picit?" :P

6. Farah - One of my oldest and hottest friends who got me started on blogging! Farahsiva yo!

7. Ashley - deep thoughtful and suddenly getting very generous with the word 'fuck' in her blog posts. Damn, I'm a bad influence on the young...

8. Josie - my hiking kaki with the rest of the Kuantan Rescue Rangers.

Hey Carlos, sorry it took so long man. I wanted to write this with a clear mind. Too much stress lately.

And to the rest of youse, get to it! I'm coming over to your blogs for a Raya visit soon! :P

Selamat Hari Raya to all of you who are celebrating this auspicious day today!

Friday, September 18, 2009

Indianrod Down



Its not often you get a recollection of one's moment of near death accident. We met up with Chewbaca better known among the biker community by his call sign Indianrod who had survived a crash near the Karak highway. He had been leading a group of bikers along the popular road when a Toyota Vios who was overtaking some other vehicles cut into his lane. With no where to go Chewie jammed his brakes, the bike jerked onto its front wheels and catapulted Chewie flying into the air. The Vios hit the bike which spun 3 times in the air. It hit his riding partner behind who also crashed. Chewie landed on his ankles which thankfully did not fracture but were instead sprained.

Below is Chewie's recollection:

All I remember was thinking everything was beautiful. The winding road, blue open skies, green trees.....

After that its like a blank, the only image before that of waking up is like those old TV shows where you get static. I only remember opening my eyes and wondering why am I on the road?Stephan is over me asking me if I'm OK?

I only remember asking him impatiently "Why did we stop here?", completely unaware I was on the ground after sliding on the road for about 15 meters. I am thinking we had stopped for a rest. I realize there is suddenly a crowd about. I must have been out for about 15 minutes. Slowly i hear the other dude lying next to me. He's screaming in pain as he had dislocated some part of his arm. Stephan is alternating between the both of us checking if we are OK. I feel OK but a little disoriented completely blur that I had a broken collar bone. The pain has not hit me yet. I can't stand as my feet feel like rubber bands.

We're then taken to a hospital where my buddy lying next to me on a gurney is being placated by pain killers. Then....slowly..... the fucking pain hits me. Its like a thousand needles attacking my bone. They x-ray me and find out my collar bone is broken. It's going to be a long fucking month man....


The seat area where Chewie sat was completely destroyed. Imagine if he were still in it...

In typical cowardly Malaysian fashion the driver of the Vios tried to take off leaving the two injured bikers on the road. Fortunately the car couldn't move far as you can see above. He was stopped by Stephan the third biker who avoided the crash, who held him till the cops arrived.



The accident spot. Note the Vios on the left side.

Point to note, the Vios driver also made a police report blaming the bikers even though there were witnesses and the skid marks on the road to prove otherwise. The police were impartial and actually treated Chewie as if it was his fault.

Keep cameras on standby and take on site accident pictures folks. DTA.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Need to get a life...

Long weekend ahead. everyone is hitting beaches, bangkok, bali, hong kong, skiing, diving, shagging on white sand, 5 star hotels, condos, boats and rafts, beds, mats, and on the back of mutant bats. And me?

I'll be working. At home. with a break to maybe take a shit. i might even have time to wipe my ass....

damn, i definitely need to get a life...

Sunday, September 13, 2009

I'm destressing with.... SCANDAL

4 cute rocker girls. In school girl uniforms. Playing their own instruments AND singing. In Doc Marts.

Only the Japanese would think of this.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

McCurry Rules Y'all!


The first thing on my mind is how VIncent Tan let his lawyers convince him that he had a case with the flimsy argument. You would have to be smoking some serious weed to believe that chicken curry tasted like a chicken burger.

This was a classic case of a huge corporation thinking that they could bully the little man on the street with high powered lawyers in slick suits. What they now get is egg on their face and a PR disaster for a company that prides itself on its wholesome family image.

Although from what I heard, the owner of McCurry did get a phone call from the Golden Arches HQ in the US congratulating him on his victory. Good damage control. At least they were better advised than their Malaysian counterparts.

GO HERE for the complete news coverage.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

9.09.09

So what happens today?

The tides of the ocean recede?

Do Malaysian drivers behave less like drivers from a demolition derby?

Do I grow more hair on my chest?

Do WOMEN grow hair on their chest?

Samy Velu going to change his toupee or whatever that dead animal that he has glued to his scalp?

Oprah will finally coffee with David Lettermen?

Will my apartment magically clean itself?

Will 2 weeks of unwashed laundry grow a pair of legs and march itself down to the 'dobi' dude?

All of youse that went to the lottery to buy 9909 aren't going to strike as too many people have bought it already. Think some counters have stopped selling.

Just another day folks.

Monday, September 7, 2009

I'm not fussy. REALLY

Why do you guys keep saying that? AND I'm NOT BLOODY GAY! I think i've already posted something along these line but I still keep getting this.

It's not like I've cut off 'Lil Chindy' and pickled him in a jar that I put next to my tooth brush. I have been dating. I do go out with women. Yes, the type born with vaginas thank you very much.

And what can I say. Most of the cool women that i like seem to have been pocketed by smarter men early on in their lives. The rest just want to keep me in a cage labeled BFF. I'm like that gay friend but one who can also punch up a snatch thief if need be (well I'd like to think so).

All I'm looking for is:

1. Sense of humor - she can make jokes whenever i accidentally fart in the car

2. Worldly - we can talk about over rated banking systems to debating that the reason they created the black Spiderman outfit in the comics was because some of the artists were starting to get fed up of drawing all the webs on the original blue and red costume.

3. Self confident and strong - this is important AND also selfishly shallow. A confident secure woman tends to look after her self - gym, dressing, etc. Also she's decisive and independent. I think those who think this in not important should head down to the Scarlett Lady Bar in Puchong and look for horny fossils trying to grope Fanny and Apple. Where's Mrs Horny Fossil? In her petticoat, hair tied up in a tangled mess, bitching to her sister over the phone about one of those Desperate Housewives.

4. Has decent amount of grey cells - does not think that Tiffany's is a diner in New York.

5. NOT full of herself - busy checking her hair or adjusting her dress when I'm being gang banged by a bunch of drunk transvestites along Lorong Haji Taib.

See not bad right.

Simple.

I'm not fussy.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Chopstick Sabers!


Chopstick light sabers by Japanese firm Kotobukiya

Holy Midicholorians Batman!!! Lucasfilm's licensees are really getting creative to exploit every potential licensing right out there where now they seek to assimilate world culture into the Star Wars universe. Eating wan tan noodles will never be the same!

What will they think of next? Wookie Persian rugs? Celtic Darth Maul skirts? 'Space' Asteroid Muffins from Amsterdam?


Available in kids and adults sizes with choices of Vader and blue Luke and for the kiddies you get to grab those fish balls with Luke's green lightsaber.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Merdeka

Fuk me. Just as i'm trying to put up a post on our Independence Day tomorrow I get a call just 2 minutes ago saying that there's been an illegal transaction using my credit card in the United States. You never really think that you'll ever be one of those poor sods you read about in the papers who ended up with thousand dollar bill for porn subscriptions and a coupla pussy flashlights.

As far as I know the bill is small and for some female products. Damn, who has had access to my credit card? Peekz is my trusted assistant and she's so manly the only female products she would ever buy are tampons. (she's stressed so dont think she'll be reading this blog for the next few weeks :P)

Just msn-ed Peekz. She said I probably bought the girly stuff when I came home drunk one night. (-_-) That's what I get for having a casual/easy working style with my staff. They get to be sarcastic to me after 5 pm and on public holidays.

Anyway...

Tomorrow is hari Merdeka. Our Independence Day. It's dramatically quiet this year. H1N1, the crap economy, politicians being politicians and wasting every one's time and money.

I ask this every year. What does it mean? Just another vain remainder to those too young to care for freedom and independence. In a way the American patriotism machinery seems to be able to drum that into their national consciousness. Here it's the same old black and white footage and Sudirman's retro hits that seem to be the only ammo the government has to instill the spirit of Merdeka. Yasmin Ahmad was not government machinery. Her videos though should now be part of every Merdeka celebration from now and forever. It's more relevant to the kids of today. Yasmin Ahmad, Sudirman, P. Ramlee, and the Tunku. Sorta Malaysia's mystical Fantastic Four who every year fight the battle to educate disillusioned parents, E popping teens and dirty businessmen and their stooges that Merdeka should be our yearly call to action to get our act together.

Overheard in a conversation among government dignitaries - who would you say are South East Asia's power houses? Answer - Singapore, Vietnam AND Malaysia.

WTF????

Aren't we a bunch of screw ups?

No - we're actually not that bad even with dodgy politicians and environmental disaster waiting to pounce on every corner. Indonesia is too fragmented, Thailand always seems to have political upheavals and Filipino politics is also not stable. (this was an overheard conversation)

Is it true?

Maybe.

Indonesia needs another strong President. Thailand needs another Prime Minister who can bring all factions together. I'm not familiar with the Filipino political scene but for now it actually looks like we have that potential.

As long as we get our act together.

Can we? Will we?

I know I want to. My Chinese neighbor across the corridor will standby me. My Malay PA and friends who I will break fast with tonight will also be walking down any road with me. Of course my Indian 'thani' friends will be offerring me their legal services for a special rate...

SO who are these fukers throwing a cow's head at a Hindu temple? Who are these Hindraf clowns holed up in England stirring up shit from across many oceans. They are not us. They have their own plans and it has nothing to do with peace or harmony or sitting having teh tarik with Indians, Malays, Chinese, Bai fukers (Jaspal the Wise yo!), Serani flers and enjoying the gorgeous windy afternoons we've been getting lately.

One Malaysia? Why? We already know we're all Malaysian. It's just the clowns with the agendas that need to be reminded of it. Well, maybe have it shoved up their ass.

I am Malaysian. So are my friends, my enemies, my family, my colleagues, business partners and the fucker that cut in front of me this morning without warning. When he cut in front of me I did not think "Chinese fucker". I just thought "FUCKER". FULL STOP.

We're all Malaysian together. Whether as fuckers, assholes, friends, family, lovers, colleagues, whatever.

Peace y'all.