Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Conscious Job Decision?

When one is growing up, does ANYONE think;

1. "When I grow up I want to work for a government ministry."
- because where else can you get breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, brunch, lunch and seven tea breaks before the day ends?

2. "My dream when I'm older is to work in Human Resource."
Because it's a noble job as I get to help and nurture my fellow colleagues. Also because I flopped my bar exams one too many times and with my legal training I can make sure no unions fuck with the system.

3. "I can't wait to start working in Shopping Mall Management."
Well, where else would I apply too after I quit my HR job?

4. " When I become a media buyer I'm going to be king of the world!"
Even when I'm 50, I will still be able to tell insecure marketing managers to spend their millions on either Tiffany or Debbie Gibson. Hannah Montana who???

5. "Of course a 'chai walla' in an international offshore call center"
Dont laugh, after the Oscars every slum kid will have an alternate dream than making it big as a Bollywood actor.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Of Bats and Dragonflies

Downtown Jakarta.

One of Jakarta's futuristic influences near Senayan Stadium.

The endless Jakarta traffic jams. As far as the eye can see. This was along Sudirman Road.

A view of the tarmac from the smoking lounge of the food court at Soekarno Hatta International Airport.

The meeting went well yesterday, and an old friend who has been based in Jakarta picked me up late in the evening for some drinks. We headed to Dragonfly, the supposed most hip club in town and sure enough we were greeted by every car imaginable that I would find problems buying even a tire for. It's one of those housy, trancy, whateveryoucallit kind of club. And yes, it's where the pretty people congregate. Well at least the women were hot.

Women make such an effort when they club and guys, well some just seemed to have rolled out of bed, scratched their balls, put on a pair of jeans and drove over to the club. Maybe it was a good day but the girls were hot and a large number looked like models. All of the ladies were mighty fine looking specimens.

If you stood back and took it all in, it really put the fashion divide between clubbing men and women to the test - A consistent grade of hot, Blackberry carrying, well dressed women combined with a crowd of men folk who seemed like an odd combination of orcs, elves and and every bar fly at Moe's Tavern from the Simpson's cartoon.

Anyway, it seemed a little like a poser joint and my buddy was in the mood for some live music.

We hit the Shangri La Hotel, and and I was surprised that for 5 star hotel, Bats, the club in the hotel was such an open 'meat market' establishment. Brix, the club below the Hyatt in Singapore is well known for this but the ladies are hard to spot and are discreet. In Bats, where the live band rocked out Top 40 hits and some old rock anthems, 95% of the women in the place had a price on their head and it was Cleavage and Wonderbra Central!

Also an interesting scene where the ladies pretend to gyrate to the music but actually hope their jiggling is going to tempt one of men in the bar to 'tapau' them back. The men on the other hand just quietly nurse their drinks while trying discreetly to look for companionship. These dudes are made up mainly of expatriates and lonely hotel guests fishing for some booty. Either under dressed in the tired Just After Work Threw On An Old Shirt And Jeans ensemble OR they go over the top especially the older ones and turn up looking like Tom Jones on a bad hair day. Now you know where all the Single In Jakarta expats head to, to find warm bodies to keep them warm at nights.

Thinks it's age catching up to me. Ordinarily I would stay out in a club and party out the night. Now I just want quiet beers and good company. I surprised myself that I wasn't even staring at some of the bobos on exhibition in both Dragonfly and Bats. The Gay Brigade can relax though, I'm not going to bring down the neighborhood by crossing over with my Seremban Neanderthal dress sense. Plus I enjoy the female form way to much. But it's still a weird feeling when you see yourself in the third party growing out of a younger, hornier skin and greeting a newer BUT more settled form with a quiet sigh of relief.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Jakarta For A Night

My last trip was a day trip. Flew in, sat through a one hour meeting and headed back to the airport where I killed time walking around the quiet terminal taking random pictures. Today I spend a night because the meeting is later in the day. I'm stuck in a dodgy hotel as I have a budget client BUT I hope to be able to check out the Dragonfly club in Jakarta. I hearzz it rockzzz. I've got to be at the airport by 10.30 tomorrow so a late night is not an option. Not like it would make a diff. I've just developed the sleeping habits of a geriatric hibernating bear so will prob fall asleep at the bar drooling by 11pm.

Let's see.....

Shit havent ironed my pants yet. Adios.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Silent Lucidity

I had this weird dream last night. It made me think of this old Queensryche song. Not sure when or if I started dictating the flow of the dream but this is how it went :

There was this little girl in pink dress jumping off a cliff. I couldn't see her face but she had dark shoulder length hair. This scene kept repeating itself. Sometime later it felt like i needed to peer over the cliff to see what was at the bottom. It was empty. Just a white space.

This is when it felt like my subconscious started to dictate matters.

"Damn, she could get hurt"

Suddenly a pink parachute deploys.

"Can't see the bottom. Wonder what's down there...?"

A lake appeared below.

"She's a kid, what if she can't swim?"

The lake turned into pink jello which she promptly fell into and sunk up to her neck.

"Damn... she could suffocate if she sinks into that jello" (it was a lake sized jello)

The jello turned into water that splashed harmlessly around her.

"Demmit, she might catch a cold..."


A purple Teletubby appeared with a hair dryer.........

I woke up after this of course, ALTHOUGH there seemed some garbled fuzziness before the i actually opened my eyes. I would like to think it was my subconsciousness having words with The Dream King.

"Dude, WTF man???? A frakking Teletubby??????"

"Teletubbies invoke a sense of familiarity with one's inner child young Chindy"

"Morpheus, my man, I haven't had inner child moments for the last couple of decades man!!! AND don't you know that Teletubbies freak out anyone older that 8 months old????"

"......, clearly you are mistaken?....bzb...bzzzt....

" Othankgod he's waking up.... Look, next time get with the program OK Morph?"

Monday, February 16, 2009

Anti Bribery

A while back I attended a talk by this dude about corruption. Nice amiable feller but i came out of the talk feeling like either I wasn't given the full picture OR WORSE, we're looking at corruption in an entirely simplistic manner.

He spoke about the standard modus operadi of bribes. The women and cash and the temptations that exist all around us. He kept repeating that no matter what, all those involved would eventually get caught.

Again and again, he repeated in dramatic fashion, " no matter how much you take, you won't be able to get away forever. We will get you", as if the BPR/ACA was the government equivalent of Batman, Judge Dredd or a vengeful Powerpuff Girl.

aaaahhh, excuse me sir, .......



He said taking bribes is not the solution to life. Money is not everything. Nothing, he said, is more satisfying than, wait for it, WAIT FOR IT.........

coming back from a honest day's work and having your children run into your arms calling "daddy! daddy!" or better still your lovely wife to welcome you home with a hug and a kiss.


Holy Popsicle sticks Batman!!!!!!! I looked around the room. Could it be he had mistaken us for a bunch of Amish pre-teens, where the future of your life lies in eating copious amounts of vegetables and doing good onto your parents and family?

Do you walk into an alternate Happy Days universe the moment you walk through their office doors?

OR MAYBE, just maybe, they're hiding their true talents under a benign exterior. Just MAYBE they are secretly gathering info to take down the top guys. Smokescreening the public into thinking these guys are just a bunch of Bill Cosby rejects running about catching small fish WHILE they work with the FBI, Interpol, GI Joe and the Avengers to bring the BIG fish to JUSTICE. Just maybe they've wired up every traffic camera, mall security camera and all sort of public surveillance equipment to one monitoring post in some secure secret lair in Bangsar underneath the old Finnigans Pub? Ever thought about it?

Which means my cleaner service could be their agents.

Which means that kindly Indonesian woman isn't really looking at cleaning my Silver Surfer statue when she opens my cabinets and drawers to 'dust'.

Which means my laundry dude could be going through my pockets for movie ticket stubs and potential incriminating evidence like possible receipts from Bintang Palace Massage and KTV....



Our boys are cool. They are Avengers cool, GI Joe aces and even Autobot honorable. To tempt the Fates by taking bribes in Malaysia is just like spitting on the respective shoes of Chuck Norris, Wolverine and Vinnie Jones (pre-acting career). To THINK of giving our bribes is to call upon the vengence of menopausing Harpies! Yes, say NO to bribery!!!



Majulah A Anti Corruption Society Untuk Malaysia...

Saturday, February 14, 2009

V Is For Vendetta

Cupid leaned on his golden bow, looking at the scene below him. It was noon and a dodgy looking man was waving bunches of roses for sale to indifferent pedestrians and drivers along Jalan Telawi in Bangsar. The night before, even on Friday the 13th, couples had booked in early dinners to save on some dosh. The Rose Brigade had already begun their rounds assaulting every couple in sight and often shaming the dude into buying roses for the lady across the table. SMS business was up. People were still stupidly signing up for dating tips that cost them RM3 a pop. Daily. Some just forgot or didn't bother to unsubscribe after they got bored of the novelty but it sure added up baby.

Yet something troubled the little prick. He hated to admit it but he had to say there was a 'disturbance in the Force". He hated that line but found it apt at this point.

It was noon and yet, YET something was making him uneasy. Sales were not as bullish as expected even with some restaurants lowering their dinner packages. He had told those greedy bastards to try to control prices. Jacking up a sudden 100% just for one day would have it's backlash and he was sure last year's windfall for the F&B sharks would backfire on them in the year of the Ox. Super market sales were up. People were eating further out at smaller, less expensive yet more intimate locations.

But still, people are sheep. His clients made money from the sheep. Prudent spenders with copious amounts of common sense were not their target market. Hell, even those idiots who were REALLY in love were as far down his list as possible. I mean how the hell was he going to milk money from idiots who insisted on having a moonlit picnic on a beach, cooking a candle lit meal at home or worse those cheap shits who just MADE each other presents. I mean, can they even see how fungly that "best boy friend'" ceramic mug even looks like under the bright sunlight? He bet those mugs were relegated to holding tooth paste tubes and combs in the guest bathroom.

Yes, things were not at rosy but the sheep always came through at the end. Those school kids, those last minute "I think I can get lucky tonight" clowns, those single women who just wanna go to a restaurant and then to a club in hopes of finding some reprieve on this most romantic of days.

Still, there was something else...

Sure it was the crap economy that made that fat shit Santa lose a coupla pounds over winter but it was this Something in the air. Something that had crept in over the week, months and maybe even the past year.

He couldn't afford a bad Valentine this year. He had taken huge fees from De Beers, Tiffany, every greeting card company imaginable, even those Puerto Rican wine makers. If business fell short he was sure someone would send that no good mercenary bully, Bigfoot, to stomp on his baby smooth tush.


Holy Venusian Butter!!!!! He got it! He pulled out his Grand Meter of Love and took a reading.

"mother fu........"

He took another reading. On man, this was not good. notgoodnotgoodnotgoood......

True Love on planet Earth had dropped 30%. Of the balance 70%, half of it were parked at couples 60 years and above (fuck wrong demographic! selling calcium pills, hearing aids and false teeth didn't hold a candle to diamonds, wine and all that shines!).

Cupid slumped against the cold hard concrete behind him atop the Telekom Malaysia Tower. It was HIS fault. His dicking around when he was bored in the good times. Shooting arrows at random on those slow days, never minding that it hit married men and women, dating couples both straight and gay, and even 80 year old fossils who had easy access to Viagra.

This had set the seeds for disillusionment, pessimism and distrust in all that was Brand LOVE.

He looked around wildly. He still had arrows but he couldn't find any targets. In the cafes fake smiles and lustful looks abounded, disinterest and boredom hung about the young families with the howling child at the back seat..... ooooooh fuk..... he had nothing to work on. You always needed some real spark for these new arrows to work! Note to self he thought, "cancel Love arrows order from China factory".

In a distance a wispy cloud seemed to head towards him with purpose. It changed shapes as it got closer. First it was a Imperial Star Destroyer, then a bottle of wine, some E and used condom, before it settled on the face of that idealistic fool Karma.

As Karma passed Cupid on that high tower in the sky, he turned, smiled, made the 'V' sign with his fingers before flipping Cupid the finger before he disappeared into the warm sunny Malaysian sky.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Salma Again! Sexiest Dance Sequence Ever Revisited

I found a clearer version. You can't get enough of a young Salma Hayek, an albino python and Tito and Tarantula's perfect song for this scene.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

A Sudden Harsh Whisper Of Faith

His name was Marcus. That's all I know. I played futsal with him occasionally every Monday. He worked in Unicef here in PJ. He was, simply put, a NICE kid. A great futsal player, he would always give up his place on the team to a late comer, play in goal when more selfish players wanted to only be striker and always approach a grumpy fart like me after a game with an appreciative "great goal" or "how do you keep running like that man?"

A couple of days ago he died in his sleep. I think he was only 22, 23 max. The autopsy revealed nothing was wrong with him. 100% healthy. The only conclusion was (i may get this medical term wrong as I forgot to write down what was conveyed to me) was that he died of bio-chemical imbalance. He was a workaholic and he had only been having 3-4 hours of sleep every day for the past 3 months. It seems his body just stopped producing whatever chemicals it needs to keep the engine running.

That's it. Nothing sinister or tragic. He. worked. himself. to. death. He went to sleep probably thinking about work the next day and never woke up.

Xavier the older of the four brothers at Online pub, locked up the bar one night about 9 months ago. He got on his bike for the ride back home. People found him sitting on the roadside at 4am. He didn't remember anything and had to be rushed for brain surgery, a victim of a hit and run. He's now paralysed on the right side. He's back in physiotherapy but his boisterous deep voice is gone, his body just an awkward host to his indomitable spirit.

Uncle Mike
My neighbor went to visit his son in London over Christmas 2007. Uncle Mike was a strong tall man of about 65. He was always trying to get me to draft complain letters to the apartment management. All of which I quietly 'forgot' to do. In London he came down with flu bug which progressed to something much worse. The cold was not agreeing with him but he was by then too sick to travel. His condition worsened and had to go through some surgery.

He got back to Malaysia almost a year later, much longer than the planned 2 months holiday. I did not recognize him when I first met him after he came back. He now seems to have shrunk. His black hair is now snowy white. His eyes are haunted and empty and his face almost skeletally gaunt. He cant leave the apartment and I sometimes catch him sitting on the balcony staring out into the afternoon sky. Sometimes he waves back when I acknowledge him but sometimes he just stares past me.

I'm not going to say I wish I had spent more time with Marcus or spoke to him more or went to his wake. I'm not going to say that I cried when I first saw Xavier barely hunched over and painfully trying to speak to me in the bar nor will I say now that I regret not drafting those letters of complaint for Uncle Mike. That would be hypocritical. Marcus was a good kid. I've prayed for him the past couple days. I will eventually forget in the days to come as time erases everything let alone the passing of an acquaintance from Monday night futsal kickabout. I will continue to support Online Pub as it's one brother short now. I will talk a bit longer to Xavier and will pull back when he's tired and Uncle Mike? If there's still the fire in him to fire off another complaint to the apartment management, this time I WILL draft that note for him and personally deliver it to the those Animal Farm rejects sitting on the committee.

This is not about me or so much about them actually. This is about how much we take what we have for granted. Every meal and dollar that we waste, every hurtful word or action that we say or do, every family that we ignore, every little simple pleasure that is scorned upon. It's all this an more. We can lose all we have now in two seconds, 2 days or 2 weeks. What would we have to show for it? The never ending yearning for money, sex, property, rich husband/boyfriend, hot horny wife/girlfriends/affairs, the bigger car/house, more exotic holidays, that higher position up the corporate ladder, that unfulfilled and more important UN-ACTED UPON dream to own that bar by the beach, build that dream house, conquer Everest, etc?

Would I feel empty at the end of my life? I hope not. Time also erases fleeting notions of nobility, resolutions for betterment and even blog posts that are supposed to act as a reminder in case one tends to forget in that journey to find self satisfaction before we pack our bags to head for for the Pearly Gates or for the Hindu side of me, to get re-incarnated as one of Michale Jackson's 'adopted' children. It's just whether we've got our shit together before we turn off all the lights and lock the door behind us.

"I said, don't apples taste GREAT? I mean the way they TASTE. And the texture. And the way when you chew them, they kind of crunch and the juice runs out in your mouth. Isn't it AMAZING?" - Death, in Neil Gaiman's comic, Death: High Cost of Living

Thursday, February 5, 2009


I don't really enjoy weddings. It's just about people getting dressed up and putting on a pantomime while getting camel pissed at the end. Back in the day, in a far off more innocent time, OR if you live in Batang Berjuntai then it's 'here and now', weddings were:

1. A great way to meet Hotties dressed up in their sexiest neck plunging cleavage bearing best - Eurasian weddings

2. Eat as much as you wished at a curry buffet of the best Indian food in town - Indian weddings

3.Get drunk for free because your parents already gave the wedding 'ang pow' and get a chance to sing with equally bad karaoke singers - Chinese Weddings

4. Eat, chill and chat up with girls while wearing jeans and t-shirt in a kampung wedding in the middle of a coconut and palm plantation with great hot satay, rendang, roti jala and Zainal Abidin crooning 'Hijau' on the radio - Malay Weddings

5. Eat great food for free, get drunk for free, chat up super hot babes, get beaten up by super angry drunk boy friends who then get bitch slapped by their own mothers for disgracing the family name - Punjabi weddings

Now, everyone and their cat is getting married in 5 star hotels. Everything is sorta standardized. Everybody has speeches, a band, speech by best man, speech by father of groom, speech by father of bride, speech my groom, bride sings a song of love to groom, the pain in the ass video compilation of moments in their lives, the elaborate pouring of champagne and cutting of cake and bloody hell, even the first serving of the Chinese Four Seasons dish has it's own grand entrance with it's OWN THEME SONG! And it's almost always........ Europe's Final Countdown!!!!! An oxymoron at a wedding?

Stone Cold Steven Austin has entrance music, as does Darth Vader and the evil Empire, but when the Four Seasons starter dish has a theme song, someone's lost the plot or just suffering from illusions of grandeur. So if my abalone has a theme song people might think I've got a 20ft dick? Cue Final Countdown and watch my ego grow! Yeah baby, yeah! Whatever dude...

Do you notice that the father of the groom is always the odd man out? Yes, he says the standard welcome of the bride into the family, yadayadayada, yawn..... and almost always ends it with hoping she will bear him many grand children followed by sniggers from the crowds. But that's it. He has no place in there actually. He's just holding up the free flow of whisky. The groom has to get his ass up and make like the man of the moment. After all it's his day and the missus who normally sits cool and lets the man do all the work. The bride's father tries to upstage all by crying about losing his baby girl and this normally works until he gets back to his table and starts knocking back Johnny Black and starts getting racaous. The best man stands out because of the lame ass jokes while he tries to flirt with the bride's best friend. So the father of the groom tries to be stoic and cool but eventually this is a role that should be phased out of weddings. Let the father of the groom just sit at the head table and shout out the lyrics to Final Countdown when the waiters bring out the first meal of the day. He just might upstage the drunk best man...

Anyway, weddings. I dont feel confomfortable because:

1. It seems an elaborate show to try to convince the world that getting hitched is the beginning of a wonderful journey into a land of romance, love, slow mo moments of running to each other in Putrajaya, looking wistfully at each other on a bridge in Putrajaya and having beautiful children who will look like angels (only if the picture is taken in Putra Jaya). All put on. Its a Lookit Me Mom show for family and friends. Its for you to show the LURVE and for others to show their support. Bottom line it's a charade. How many old dudes (young and old) you see in that room were not just spending at least one day in the past month in the company of Scarlett and Apple and Fanny in the Pink Lady Louge playing that dice game? How many of the smiling old ladies are actually calculating the costs of the wedding to ensure that their daughter's big day is going to be on a much grander scale? C'mon these are facts. It's true, and just so you folks don't called me a menopausing camel bitch, I've left out the other 998 reasons why it's a charade.

2. Getting the groom drunk so we can laugh at him (Chinese weddings) - what the fuck is this about??? Guys trying to get one poor sod to bust his liver so they can see him puke all over his balls and then they can take pictures and tag said sod on Facebook? AND these are his best friends!!!. Any one worth his salt will follow the groom around ALL the tables and drink WITH the Man of the Moment. Or else they have no say and no right to force the clown even in the name of 'face'.

3. Guests Must Color Coordinate Their Outfits To Wedding Theme Colors - holy crap sticks! Brides are REALLY exercising executive power here. Not content with color coordinated ball room, wedding cards, wedding cake, back drop, gowns, Mercedes, bride's maids, flower girls, family poodle, etc, NOW even the guests have to blend in with the green polka dot and purple pillar wrappings in the main reception hall?

4. The Wedding Videos - Seriously, - the baby pictures, you in your sailor outfit at 6, and you singing in your first school concert, your college pictures, mullet and all, the obligatory hunk and babe pictures to show how you've grown, the obligatory graduation pictures, the pictures of you with famous people.... Why? We know you already. Those who don't are probably those long lost relatives that your mum 'owes' an invite to because they invited her to their kid's wedding. Ditch the videos people because those who know you will be bored AND some will be filling in the blanks:

You in sailor outfit - dad thinks, "yeap that's about the time I had to sell my golf club membership to start saving for his college fund. Little punk."

You in College - Ex- boy friends and then some - "damn, that time behind the school, in my dad's car, at her house, on her parent's bed....."

Groom on beach with friends - some gay dude in crowd goes, "and I so believed him when he said he loved me..."

5.The ang pows for the hotel dinner - This sets me back at least RM100. And if it's a close friend you're expected to pop a bit more. I miss the old skool weddings in town halls, the local restaurants and at family homes. You pay a lot less and you can even get away with recycling some old toaster or that Selangor Pewter photo frame that some of those mentally challenged people out there who still believe that this is the epitome of cool for a birthday/Christmas/going away/ Bon voyage present.

Yes, yes, wedding are nice and special and is a shared time of treasured moments that is heart warming and tugs at the hearth strings of all in attendance and reminds us of the union of two souls that embrace life together and are willing to share, sacrifice and YAAAAAAWWWWN......and you know, all that stuff. This is just a reason why weddings make me uncomfortable. Maybe one day I'll write what are the positives about it but until then, I remain,

Yours sincerely,

The Grinch of Weddings Past, Present and Future.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Brake Fluid

It started with two Indian dudes on a motorbike gesticulating to my front tyre. I pulled over and they said there was smoke coming out of my tire. I was a bit hesitant. I didn't see any smoke. They asked me to go back in and step on the brakes. I didn't see what it would do as the car was stationary but obliged them.

From my car I saw them calling me out and when I did look I saw a slight wisp of smoke coming out inside the hub cap.

"Boss break fluid bocorlah. Tengok ada minyak."

"yeah..... " I wasn't convinced. The oil seemed smeared on inside the hub cap.

"Kita baru balik work shop. Saya panggil kawan mari tolong ok?"

After all i was along a busy highway and even they were to try to kidnap me or stick me up, there would bound to be some good Samaritans who would stop and help out. THEN I remember I am not in Seremban. I'm in KL where lily livered "concerned members of the public' have made viewing enfolding crime a spectator sport. I can see Tourism Malaysia's next desperate ad campaign:






dammit, digression....

So anyway I felt physically safe but I hate to admit this, but two Indian dudes on a bike, trying to help me? Coincidentally they work in a work shop and they have a friend who has a tow truck?

My mum will be seething and quietly breaking coconuts in the local temple to cure her generalizing racist son of this malady if she were to hear this. BUT I WAS suspicious......

So I basically told them politely to sod off. The older fellow told me to drive carefully and they went on their way.

I called up Mr Yap from Shell and I said there might be smoke from my tires and some oil leaking. He also said it could be a faulty break line.


Now I had to drive to Subang from the city. Luckily I was near the Musuem. I could get to Subang without that many traffic lights and with my Smart card reader I could coast through the toll booths in low gear without braking.

THEN I realized the extent of bloody Malaysian drivers!!!!!! We know the majority of us suck BUTTTTTT when you're not trying to use your brakes??????????

Cars bolt out in front of me without signaling, people are cutting in right, left and center, bloody Kancil drivers are racing with each other, cutting in and out of traffic AND THEY ALL EXPECT OTHER CARS TO STOP FOR THEM!!!! The indicator signal is of course something to be used THE PRECISE MOMENT ONE PULLS OUT OF ONE'S OWN LANE.

Holy shit. Playing with the gears, I used the brake sparingly with visions of my Sentra looking like it tried to butt hump an 18 wheeler trailer transporting communications pylons if the brakes failed on me at some traffic light. It was a looooonng drive to Subang Jaya.

Ultimately it sounds like I almost got conned. My brakes are fine ("a little low on fluid but we can top up for you Mr Chindy"). They must have squirted oil onto my tires and probably stuck a lit cigarette inside the hub cap.

But an eye opener nonetheless at the hazards of Malaysian drivers and the opportunists that prey on the unsuspecting.

Also did I mention the idiot that insisted on STILL driving a car with potentially leaking brake fluid?

Monday, February 2, 2009


I was reading this blog after a recommendation by a friend. This post brought on a chuckle fest:

Here is an excerpt from the post Tipping Points:

There's a business/marketing/advertising jargon that we like to call the "Tipping Point". It's that pivotal something that either turns an opinion, creates a decision, or alters perception to either win, lose, open, close, like, dislike something.

My obeservations of Tipping Points in KLCC over the weekend are as follows:

a. Guy in KLCC carrying a Gucci shopping bag : Cool
b. Guys in a group in KLCC carrying Gucci shoppingbags : Gay

a. Girl in short shorts and flats in Chinoz : Rich gal having Sunday brunch
b. Girl in short shorts and stilettos in Chinoz : Sugar daddied slut

a. Guy in Bottega Venetta giving helpful comments to female partner : Schmuck
b. Guy in Bottega Venetta giving understanding nod to other guys on the sofa : Comrade

a. Guy who helps carry girlfriend's 8 shopping bags : Valiant
b. Guy who helps carry girlfriend's handbag : Pansy fool

a. Guy having Double Espresso at Starbucks with 3 hot girls : Stud
b. Guy sipping on Vanilla Surprise with whipped cream with 3 hot girls : Sistah

a. Guy with Man U jersey on : Supporter
b. Guy with Man u jersey AND Man U cap on : Dork

a. Guy in shirt and tie with one handphone : Businessman
b. Guy in shirt and tie with 2 handphones : Malay businessman having an affair / affairs

So remember guys n gals, you might wanna be mindful of sending out the wrong kinda message to the audience of the brand that is you.

For more of this go to www.fuzzboks.blogspot.com.