What is a soul, actually?
Is it an electrical charge that runs through our body? Is it a swirling energy matter that spins in our body and gives us constant headaches?
Did you know that before we found out how the respiratory system of the body works, our ancestors used to think that when we breathed, we were actually sucking in souls from our surrounding those souls travel through our bodies to keep us alive.
So now, every time we talk about the devil and our relationship to him, we would always say "He/She sold his/her soul to the devil for money and fame." or something like that.
What is a soul? How do you sell it? And why in his own name is the devil so obsessed about our souls?
I mean, what does he do with it after he "buys" it from us? Eat it? If he does then does that mean our souls are like something tasty, like a marshmallow maybe? Do all of us taste the same?
Does he use it to make a bed? Is it something soft and fluffy?
Is it some kind of soap or detergent that he uses to clean his lair a.k.a. Hell? Does it smell fragrant? Do all souls consist of the same chemicals because if they don't then there might be some kind of weird reaction that causes an explosion to happen, you know?
Please don't tell me he takes the soul and puts it in hell because the way I see it, there are enough crooks out there to become his slave when they die so he doesn't have to worry about running out of maids. And why, again, in his own name would he want to find more job for himself and overpopulate Hell? Because theoratically, if Hell exist then it would be a space in a different dimension and that dimension would definitely have a limited area so unless he plans on making a sardine box, I think it's a really bad idea to have so many souls down there.
Plus if the bad souls can become his slave, then that means souls are something that can do work which would also mean it is a physical entity. Oh please don't tell me they aren't physically there and they use their super mind power to get the job done or something.
Why does the devil want to buy souls so desperately?!?!
Oh, and another thing. How the hell do you buy it? Do they use barter system? Like the devil promises to give you instant fame and in exchange you give him your soul? Or maybe they go by cash and the currency is "ghost money", you know, the kind those Chinese people always burn. If we're talking in that currency then I don't know how exactly will the devil buy our souls because I believe those things are really really cheap so our souls are actually millionaires or something.
After careful thinking and scientifical analyzing, I would stick to the barter system.
But that still doesn't explain why the devil has this fetish for souls. My brother says he probably likes eating souls, but I think in truth, he's just buying old souls, reconfiguring them and putting them into new bodies to make sure our world never run out of crooks and dumb asses.
PS: When I refer to the devil as "he", I don't exactly meen "he" as a male because for all we know "he" might be asexual or something. I just used "he" cause it's shorter than "she". Damn it, I shold have used "it"!!
Wednesday, August 30
What Is And What Could Have Been.
When you're 16, you rarely think that anything could go wrong in life.
I had these dreams for every one of my close friends. I made plans on what would happen to us as we grew older. Our self-organized reunion in the year 2008. How we would meet again one day and all just laugh about how much we've changed and yet we're still the same people we were when we first met each other. Who would get into a serious relationship first. Who would get a high-flying career. Who would be the first person to spot me wearing a skirt. We made fun of each other. How all of them would laugh their head off if they ever saw me in a skirt and holding the arms of my boyfriend or something. Life didn't seem so complicated at that time.
I made plans, and I didn't think anything could go wrong.
2 years later, not that much time have passed but already I see my dream crumbling before me. I didn't think any of us would be forced to quit basketball because of health reasons, neither did I imagine she would start to shun us. I didn't think any of us wouldn't be able to continue her studies and start working. Most of all, I didn't think any of us would screw their life up so badly that she would get married.
What is and what could have been.
After graduation, we grew apart. Well, some of us did. They went to college and lost all contact with us. One made new friends and no longer wants to keep in touch with people of the past. One left to find a job because of her uncertainty on what to study. Some found lovers and decided to become jack-asses. One got pregnant and got married. The juniors no longer have the dicipline to keep on fighting. The seniors are either wasting their life away still being immature and not taking control of their lives or are too busy trying to make something out of their lives.
Just one year from graduation and already, the prospects of a reunion seem so unlikely.
Why did I write this post?
I guess it saddens me to see that not everybody made the right path for their future, and a lot more is going to fall into the depths of despair. What happened to having a backbone? What happened to having your own life philosophies and not compromising it for anything?
We all said we won't mess up and look at us now. You smoke, you drink... What else are you willing to do just to fit in with people who don't even deserve to be your friends? And the seniors who can't seem to mature even though you're older than us, aren't you supposed to take care of us and guide us? Why are you pulling these kids into all the mess that you got into? How could you possibly have the heart to mess up their lives? You made the wrong choice, it doesn't mean they have to make it too.
Stop breaking my heart and grow up mentally for a moment here.
I had these dreams for every one of my close friends. I made plans on what would happen to us as we grew older. Our self-organized reunion in the year 2008. How we would meet again one day and all just laugh about how much we've changed and yet we're still the same people we were when we first met each other. Who would get into a serious relationship first. Who would get a high-flying career. Who would be the first person to spot me wearing a skirt. We made fun of each other. How all of them would laugh their head off if they ever saw me in a skirt and holding the arms of my boyfriend or something. Life didn't seem so complicated at that time.
I made plans, and I didn't think anything could go wrong.
2 years later, not that much time have passed but already I see my dream crumbling before me. I didn't think any of us would be forced to quit basketball because of health reasons, neither did I imagine she would start to shun us. I didn't think any of us wouldn't be able to continue her studies and start working. Most of all, I didn't think any of us would screw their life up so badly that she would get married.
What is and what could have been.
After graduation, we grew apart. Well, some of us did. They went to college and lost all contact with us. One made new friends and no longer wants to keep in touch with people of the past. One left to find a job because of her uncertainty on what to study. Some found lovers and decided to become jack-asses. One got pregnant and got married. The juniors no longer have the dicipline to keep on fighting. The seniors are either wasting their life away still being immature and not taking control of their lives or are too busy trying to make something out of their lives.
Just one year from graduation and already, the prospects of a reunion seem so unlikely.
Why did I write this post?
I guess it saddens me to see that not everybody made the right path for their future, and a lot more is going to fall into the depths of despair. What happened to having a backbone? What happened to having your own life philosophies and not compromising it for anything?
We all said we won't mess up and look at us now. You smoke, you drink... What else are you willing to do just to fit in with people who don't even deserve to be your friends? And the seniors who can't seem to mature even though you're older than us, aren't you supposed to take care of us and guide us? Why are you pulling these kids into all the mess that you got into? How could you possibly have the heart to mess up their lives? You made the wrong choice, it doesn't mean they have to make it too.
Stop breaking my heart and grow up mentally for a moment here.
Tuesday, August 29
Bunny Ears Everywhere.
As happens some times a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment, and sound stopped for much, much more than a moment. And then the moment was gone.
- John Steinbeck
Some times it's hard to get over certain things or people because it seems so beautiful, perfect and most importantly, unattainable. You think you know that person and spend your days and nights analyzing, interpreting and remembering all those sweet words he said, those little things he did that made your heart skip a beat and wondering what future that relationship will hold only to realize one day that it was all just a very sweet dream set in an idyllic world where you can't set foot upon.
You wake up, and the moment is gone.
Some people try very hard not to wake up under these dircumstances. It's like the reflection of a moon on the pond. It doesn't exist, it's unreachable and it has no master. The reflection seems so serene and real when the water is still, but a breeze will send ripples across the surface of the pond and the reflection will get twisted is ways unimaginable.
The sun rises at the break of dawn, and the reflection dwindles away.
Playing with fire is a dangerous matter, the future fraught with risks. It seems so beautiful in its glowing glory, put your finger in it and you'll have to pay the consequences. You might fuel it to burn brighter, you might suffocate it to fade away. The only thing that is certain is the heartache that will ensue.
You ask how could somebody so wonderful possibly deceive you in such a horrible manner. But wonderful is only your perception towards him and he has no obligation to fulfil that image. It is but a relative word in comparison to others and what you're judging is only skin deep. To quote John Steinbeck once again, "What a frightening thing the human is, a mass of gauges and dials and registers, and we can read only a few and those perhaps not accurately."
Live in the moment as it takes place. Let it go when the curtains fall.
- John Steinbeck
Some times it's hard to get over certain things or people because it seems so beautiful, perfect and most importantly, unattainable. You think you know that person and spend your days and nights analyzing, interpreting and remembering all those sweet words he said, those little things he did that made your heart skip a beat and wondering what future that relationship will hold only to realize one day that it was all just a very sweet dream set in an idyllic world where you can't set foot upon.
You wake up, and the moment is gone.
Some people try very hard not to wake up under these dircumstances. It's like the reflection of a moon on the pond. It doesn't exist, it's unreachable and it has no master. The reflection seems so serene and real when the water is still, but a breeze will send ripples across the surface of the pond and the reflection will get twisted is ways unimaginable.
The sun rises at the break of dawn, and the reflection dwindles away.
Playing with fire is a dangerous matter, the future fraught with risks. It seems so beautiful in its glowing glory, put your finger in it and you'll have to pay the consequences. You might fuel it to burn brighter, you might suffocate it to fade away. The only thing that is certain is the heartache that will ensue.
You ask how could somebody so wonderful possibly deceive you in such a horrible manner. But wonderful is only your perception towards him and he has no obligation to fulfil that image. It is but a relative word in comparison to others and what you're judging is only skin deep. To quote John Steinbeck once again, "What a frightening thing the human is, a mass of gauges and dials and registers, and we can read only a few and those perhaps not accurately."
Live in the moment as it takes place. Let it go when the curtains fall.
Monday, August 28
Nothing. Absolutely Nothing At All.
Gosh I'm bored..
Due to my current insufficient credit circumstances on my phone, I find that my life has been reduced to nothingness. Also, in light of my recent.... um... Charitable manner in which I lost 70% of my hair in aid of breast-cancer or AIDS awareness* (whichever I said in the previous post), I would prefer to not be seen outside the security of the 4 walls of my house which means I can't go out to enjoy my holiday with my dear friends. So here I am, blogging about absolutely nothing at all.
It's amazing isn't it, how something can be made out of nothing. It's completely against the rules of alchemy. It kinda reminds me of how a language is first formed. Just think, a pompous caveman woke up one day and decided "Hei, let's call hunting 'Ogooga'." or something like that.
But then how would he even know the word hunting should be call 'ogooga' because there wasn't even such a word called 'hunting' back then. But of course that's just a small insignificant point as opposed to the next mystery-- How in freaking cave-people's name did he get others to conform with him and call hunting 'ogooga' as well? Don't tell me he went up to another caveman, knock on his chest Tarzan style and shouted "Ogooga! Ogooga!" and the other caveman just understood him. What if the other caveman already had his own term for hunting? Will they fight it out on a battle to dominate the word 'hunting'? Are they dumb enough to cause bloodshed over something as stupid as the word 'ogooga'?
Or maybe people back then were psychic. Nothing needs to be said, just one look of the eye and they knew exactly what the other was thinking. Like let's say caveman wants to get some with cavewoman, all he had to do is pull his sabertooth skin (or leaves, whichever apparel they prefered wearing at that season) off and the cavewoman would understand. OK, now that was stupid. Of course everyone knows if you pull your shirt off in the presence of the opposite sex you're probably looking for sex or something, right?
This also brings into question the next point. Did those cave-people have the decency to have sex in private or did they just shag anywhere they wanted to. Wouldn't that be really bad because let's say couple A decided to do get some action in the middle of a cave-warming party (Assuming those cave-people were as party loving as we are...). So the rest of the cavemen would watch that free porn, get horny and want to have some action of their own too which would trigger a massive sex-fest, right? Talk about abstaining from orgies that might lead to STDs.
Returning to where we were just now. So we covered the process of naming a certain activity which is actually easy. How about naming a thing? The process gets a hell lot more complicated now. So, the previous smart-ass who named hunting 'ogooga' decides every other thing should have a name too. So he takes a look around and spots the heavy stone he uses to ogooga and thinks "I think we should call this 'ululu'." and hence, that ogooga equipment was named ululu. Now he has to spread the word ululu to his fellow cave-people. So he takes his ululu and brings it to the previous dumb-ass who gave in and followed the name ogooga without giving a fight to spread the word. He points at his ululu and says "Ululu!". The dumb caveman looks at the stone and thinks "Oh, so he named his stone 'Ululu'" and thought it was a specific name and decides to name his ogooga equipment 'Booga-wooga'.
So dumb caveman points to his stone and shouts "Booga-wooga!" enthusiastically and smart caveman thought this guy was trying to contest him and another blood spilling fight ensues. After a few broken bones, they still haven't realized the mis-tranfering of information. Dumb caveman has no idea why he is being clobbered and smart caveman has no idea dumb caveman doesn't get him. As the fight get's more heated, they deployed the use of their Ululu and Booga-wooga and in the end, both of them ended up dead.
Which means that the words 'ogooga' and 'ululu' no longer exists.
I mean it's stupid isn't it? If this really took place we would end up not existing at all because all of those smart caveman who wanted to name their stuffs battled it out to death. Or maybe nobody else decided to name their stuffs so nobody fought each other and we would end up with no language at all today.
Updated: Statement(s) marks with a * might not (most probably) be true.
Due to my current insufficient credit circumstances on my phone, I find that my life has been reduced to nothingness. Also, in light of my recent.... um... Charitable manner in which I lost 70% of my hair in aid of breast-cancer or AIDS awareness* (whichever I said in the previous post), I would prefer to not be seen outside the security of the 4 walls of my house which means I can't go out to enjoy my holiday with my dear friends. So here I am, blogging about absolutely nothing at all.
It's amazing isn't it, how something can be made out of nothing. It's completely against the rules of alchemy. It kinda reminds me of how a language is first formed. Just think, a pompous caveman woke up one day and decided "Hei, let's call hunting 'Ogooga'." or something like that.
But then how would he even know the word hunting should be call 'ogooga' because there wasn't even such a word called 'hunting' back then. But of course that's just a small insignificant point as opposed to the next mystery-- How in freaking cave-people's name did he get others to conform with him and call hunting 'ogooga' as well? Don't tell me he went up to another caveman, knock on his chest Tarzan style and shouted "Ogooga! Ogooga!" and the other caveman just understood him. What if the other caveman already had his own term for hunting? Will they fight it out on a battle to dominate the word 'hunting'? Are they dumb enough to cause bloodshed over something as stupid as the word 'ogooga'?
Or maybe people back then were psychic. Nothing needs to be said, just one look of the eye and they knew exactly what the other was thinking. Like let's say caveman wants to get some with cavewoman, all he had to do is pull his sabertooth skin (or leaves, whichever apparel they prefered wearing at that season) off and the cavewoman would understand. OK, now that was stupid. Of course everyone knows if you pull your shirt off in the presence of the opposite sex you're probably looking for sex or something, right?
This also brings into question the next point. Did those cave-people have the decency to have sex in private or did they just shag anywhere they wanted to. Wouldn't that be really bad because let's say couple A decided to do get some action in the middle of a cave-warming party (Assuming those cave-people were as party loving as we are...). So the rest of the cavemen would watch that free porn, get horny and want to have some action of their own too which would trigger a massive sex-fest, right? Talk about abstaining from orgies that might lead to STDs.
Returning to where we were just now. So we covered the process of naming a certain activity which is actually easy. How about naming a thing? The process gets a hell lot more complicated now. So, the previous smart-ass who named hunting 'ogooga' decides every other thing should have a name too. So he takes a look around and spots the heavy stone he uses to ogooga and thinks "I think we should call this 'ululu'." and hence, that ogooga equipment was named ululu. Now he has to spread the word ululu to his fellow cave-people. So he takes his ululu and brings it to the previous dumb-ass who gave in and followed the name ogooga without giving a fight to spread the word. He points at his ululu and says "Ululu!". The dumb caveman looks at the stone and thinks "Oh, so he named his stone 'Ululu'" and thought it was a specific name and decides to name his ogooga equipment 'Booga-wooga'.
So dumb caveman points to his stone and shouts "Booga-wooga!" enthusiastically and smart caveman thought this guy was trying to contest him and another blood spilling fight ensues. After a few broken bones, they still haven't realized the mis-tranfering of information. Dumb caveman has no idea why he is being clobbered and smart caveman has no idea dumb caveman doesn't get him. As the fight get's more heated, they deployed the use of their Ululu and Booga-wooga and in the end, both of them ended up dead.
Which means that the words 'ogooga' and 'ululu' no longer exists.
I mean it's stupid isn't it? If this really took place we would end up not existing at all because all of those smart caveman who wanted to name their stuffs battled it out to death. Or maybe nobody else decided to name their stuffs so nobody fought each other and we would end up with no language at all today.
Updated: Statement(s) marks with a * might not (most probably) be true.
Sunday, August 27
New Phobia
To add a new item to my paranoid mind, I have a new phobia of the seemingly innocent community: Hairstylist.
They act all nice and friendly and will talk to you about the latest gossip and all. I mean their gossip is basically worth nothing cause what would you expect from those people who probably dropped out of school and picked up any job they could find but at least they're nice to talk to if you're looking for a conversation void of any form of substance.
They act as if they have your best interest at heart, telling you you should dye your hair this colour and cut it that style. But lo and behold, the truth!
The only reason they ask you to dye your hair is because that's the easiest money for them next to giving you a hair wash. But then again hair wash doesn't really cost that much so of course they would prefer you to dye your hair. First of, those stupid chemicals probably only cost a few bucks. Second, once they apply it on your head they can just go mind their own business until time's up. Third, they can later con you into buying their hair care products and stupid treatments. Fourth, they can charge your ass off for doing absolutely nothing.
OK, why am I so pissed about hairstylists right now? Slur, you can start breathing normally already. Sorry I can't message you but I currently have RM-.00 credit left. Anyway, as I was saying, you can start breathing already and not ask anything because if anybody asks, "I cut my hair in support of the Anti Breast-Cancer Campaign."
Oh by the way, I'm not going to step into any hair shop for the next 6 months.
They act all nice and friendly and will talk to you about the latest gossip and all. I mean their gossip is basically worth nothing cause what would you expect from those people who probably dropped out of school and picked up any job they could find but at least they're nice to talk to if you're looking for a conversation void of any form of substance.
They act as if they have your best interest at heart, telling you you should dye your hair this colour and cut it that style. But lo and behold, the truth!
The only reason they ask you to dye your hair is because that's the easiest money for them next to giving you a hair wash. But then again hair wash doesn't really cost that much so of course they would prefer you to dye your hair. First of, those stupid chemicals probably only cost a few bucks. Second, once they apply it on your head they can just go mind their own business until time's up. Third, they can later con you into buying their hair care products and stupid treatments. Fourth, they can charge your ass off for doing absolutely nothing.
OK, why am I so pissed about hairstylists right now? Slur, you can start breathing normally already. Sorry I can't message you but I currently have RM-.00 credit left. Anyway, as I was saying, you can start breathing already and not ask anything because if anybody asks, "I cut my hair in support of the Anti Breast-Cancer Campaign."
Oh by the way, I'm not going to step into any hair shop for the next 6 months.
When Your Misfortune Depends On Something That Doesn't Exist
Have you guys heard that Pluto have just been demoted and has went through the "Unplaneterization Process"?For 17 years of my life I grew up recognizing 9 planets in our solar system. Life was simple, life was easy. But NO~~! Some retard had to restructure the content of our solar system and *poof* goes Pluto. "Thanks for acting as a planet for nearly 80 years but I'm sorry, we're letting you go."
Such ungrateful bastards!
So OK, what if Pluto might be a little smaller than normal and have a weird orbit that somehow cuts into Neptune's orbit. For all we know it might be Neptune going into Pluto's orbit right? And just because it's small, you ain't recognizing it anymore? Does this mean you're gonna disregard all the little people in this world too? Such infringement of basic rights!
But anyway, why the hell am I complaining. It's not like my life depended on it. However, I do feel deep sympathy for our dear bomohs and fortune tellers. I mean just imagine. For centuries they earned their keep by reading the stars based on the 9 planets and now, they're gonna have to restructure their whole "9 Easy Steps To Bomoh-dom" syllabus to fit only 8 planets.
And what about the people who had their fortune told for the future years? Will all those predictions be forfeited now that we've just lost a planet in our solar system? I pity those fools who have just done setting their wedding dates only to wake up today realizing their going to have to go through all the fortune-telling process again just cause some scientists felt bored and decided to unplaneterize something.
And I read The Bintang today bout some hot-shot local politician who decided to retire when he's 68 because 67 and 69 are bad numbers for him. Something about sexually bad energy or something. He even set a date for his big day according to what the local bomoh ministry told him about the stars and planets. But now that Pluto have been demoted, will his lucky 68 still stand? Who knows, something might have been twisted in some unimaginable way and instead of getting the "Bad Sex" years, 68 might be a "Retire and Die" year, right? So to prevent any unwanted mishaps happening over some stupid matter on what day he should retire, he's probably going to take like a month off from his job to get his fortune retold. I mean not that it would really matter because something tells me 90% of the politicians in this country are better off asleep and doing nothing than trying their hands which is dirtied with corruption at something stupid only to fail and waste the tax-payers' money.
But my main point is... How can they just demote a planet out of the blue?!!? So they went through a FEW meetings and conferences... But didn't they even have the decency to ask the public what they felt? Cause I also have this strange hunch that tells me all of the bomoh community and their foolish followers will probably put their hands down and say "Nay".
Anyway, "Bye Mr. Pluto. Hope your demotion might bring me some fortune real quick."
Updated: Hold on, let me get something straight first. So basically right now, Jupiter which is made out of gas is still a planet, whereas Pluto which is something solid is no longer one? I mean what the *toot* is that? How can you possibly call a gas thing a planet? For all we know it might be just some kind of mirage in space or something!
Saturday, August 26
End of Me
I heart is like a broken glass bottle. I long to float away, carrying my memories to a far away place. Following the tide, never looking back, embracing destiny.
If only I was whole, I could fly away. But my heart is like a broken glass bottle. The shattered pieces, unable to float, stays put where it doesn't belong.
Somebody heal me. Somebody put the pieces of me back together. One day, maybe one day... I might be able to float again.
Embrace the future. I don't want to be here any longer.
Break free from desire. I don't want to be chained here to this island.
If only I was whole, I could fly away. But my heart is like a broken glass bottle. The shattered pieces, unable to float, stays put where it doesn't belong.
Somebody heal me. Somebody put the pieces of me back together. One day, maybe one day... I might be able to float again.
Embrace the future. I don't want to be here any longer.
Break free from desire. I don't want to be chained here to this island.
Tuesday, August 22
FoJIA-phobia
I've suddenly become obsessed with phobias! I know it's stupid but what better way to waste your time away than to come up with more idiotic ideologies eh?
Anyway, like we studied in Bio, before we started our "Infectious Disease" chapter we had to make acquaintance with words such as "aetiology", "epidemiology" and the likes. To read THIS post, you need to learn a few self-created terms such as:
Flame - "Funny LAME" joke. Meaning the joke is lame but it is still acceptably humorous.
Jackson - An extremely out of this universe and waaaay-off lame guy whose jokes are as dry as the Sahara desert. Wait, after a few seconds of contemplation.... I think his jokes are the reason the desert went dry.
Jacklam - "JACKson LAMe" jokes, meaning jokes that resemble jokes uttered by Jackson himself in terms of its inability to invoke even a single drop of laughter from the receiving end. If the audience happens to give out any sort of audible laughter, it is solely because they're laughing at the person and not the joke.
Father of Jacklam - Jackson's professional name.
So, basically, FoJIA stands for "Father of Jacklam In Action" and I would like to take full credit for this new phobia which I've just discovered -- FoJIAphobia.
What does it mean?
Well, some times when you're surrounded by a certain thing in abundance, you not only grow tired of it, you'll eventually start to resent it. Currently, I have two extremely lame people who goes by the guise of MShern and Farhan surrounding me most of the time and I assure you without a single fibre of doubt when I say this, "That fine line between acceptable lameness level and "The Dark Side" have been crossed."
In Bio, we also learn that vaccination is the process of injecting attenuated organisms into our body so that we will be able to resist it and hence gain immunity towards that line of disease. Some times the vaccination works, some times it fails and under very unlikely and unfortunate circumstances, you even get negative side-effects to the pathogens.
I think of Farhan and MSherns' lameness as the "attenuated organisms" that are constantly being force-fed into my body through passageways known as "ears" and "eyes". However, this is NOT a vaccination process as the purpose of their ostensibly innocuous jokes aren't injected into my vunerable brain to create immunity towards Father of Jacklam's real ammunitions. On the contrary, I have a subliminal feeling they designed it filled with a rancourous desire to kill my already-very-limited brain cells. I'm hereby also forced to give you the grievious news that lameness is in fact extremely infective. After certain examinations, the public have concluded that I seem to show very obvious signs and symptoms of joining "The Lame Force".
But due to certain brain cells that are vehemently rejecting the invasion of "Brigade Lameness", my body has failed to produce immunity towards Jackson's stupid jokes still. Every time he takes an attempt at making a joke, not only does he fail miserably, it often results in me banging my head against a wall / window / hand. I'm serious. I've been witnessed smacking my own head after hearing or seeing either MShern or Jackson making jacklams. I think it's the repulsive force of their "Jacklam Aura" that makes my hand go flying at my own forehead.
Hence the term FoJIAphobia. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Anyway, like we studied in Bio, before we started our "Infectious Disease" chapter we had to make acquaintance with words such as "aetiology", "epidemiology" and the likes. To read THIS post, you need to learn a few self-created terms such as:
Flame - "Funny LAME" joke. Meaning the joke is lame but it is still acceptably humorous.
Jackson - An extremely out of this universe and waaaay-off lame guy whose jokes are as dry as the Sahara desert. Wait, after a few seconds of contemplation.... I think his jokes are the reason the desert went dry.
Jacklam - "JACKson LAMe" jokes, meaning jokes that resemble jokes uttered by Jackson himself in terms of its inability to invoke even a single drop of laughter from the receiving end. If the audience happens to give out any sort of audible laughter, it is solely because they're laughing at the person and not the joke.
Father of Jacklam - Jackson's professional name.
So, basically, FoJIA stands for "Father of Jacklam In Action" and I would like to take full credit for this new phobia which I've just discovered -- FoJIAphobia.
What does it mean?
Well, some times when you're surrounded by a certain thing in abundance, you not only grow tired of it, you'll eventually start to resent it. Currently, I have two extremely lame people who goes by the guise of MShern and Farhan surrounding me most of the time and I assure you without a single fibre of doubt when I say this, "That fine line between acceptable lameness level and "The Dark Side" have been crossed."
In Bio, we also learn that vaccination is the process of injecting attenuated organisms into our body so that we will be able to resist it and hence gain immunity towards that line of disease. Some times the vaccination works, some times it fails and under very unlikely and unfortunate circumstances, you even get negative side-effects to the pathogens.
I think of Farhan and MSherns' lameness as the "attenuated organisms" that are constantly being force-fed into my body through passageways known as "ears" and "eyes". However, this is NOT a vaccination process as the purpose of their ostensibly innocuous jokes aren't injected into my vunerable brain to create immunity towards Father of Jacklam's real ammunitions. On the contrary, I have a subliminal feeling they designed it filled with a rancourous desire to kill my already-very-limited brain cells. I'm hereby also forced to give you the grievious news that lameness is in fact extremely infective. After certain examinations, the public have concluded that I seem to show very obvious signs and symptoms of joining "The Lame Force".
But due to certain brain cells that are vehemently rejecting the invasion of "Brigade Lameness", my body has failed to produce immunity towards Jackson's stupid jokes still. Every time he takes an attempt at making a joke, not only does he fail miserably, it often results in me banging my head against a wall / window / hand. I'm serious. I've been witnessed smacking my own head after hearing or seeing either MShern or Jackson making jacklams. I think it's the repulsive force of their "Jacklam Aura" that makes my hand go flying at my own forehead.
Hence the term FoJIAphobia. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Monday, August 21
The First Bite Is The Hardest
I've recently made a most profoundly useless discovery regarding fruits that would in no sane or plausible way affect any of our lives.
I don't know if any of you suffer from the same "First-bite-phobia" as me but while eating durian today, I suddenly realized that I was very hesitant and doubtful of the first bite I was about to make. Will it taste bad? Bitter (not that I know of any bitter tasting durians..)? I don't know. In short, I just didn't know what kind of taste to expect, or rather, unexpect.
Reminiscing (Wow! I make my crap-thoughts sound so professional), I realized too that durian is the not only fruit I'm afraid of. OK, it's not really fear of the fruit itself, it's mostly fear of the unknown territory. Again, I make it sound as though I'm going to war or something but to quote Ms. Janna, "An academic essay is not really about how well you know the issue you're writing on, it's how much you can assure and persuade the reader to believe you know everything about that issue."
So yeah... I get this same FB-phobia every time I eat certain fruits such as mango, papaya, grapes or something in that region. It's like, before you eat it a series of thoughts fly through your head like "Worms!", "Strange test!", "Too sour!", "Too squishy!" and etc etc. It's mortifying. Every time I look at a plate of freshly sliced mango being served on the table, I would have my doubts about eating it and more often than not just pass on it. I would rather miss a good tasting fruit then experience its bad tasting counterpart.
There's one fruit though, that have never gave me any sort of fright what-so-ever: Watermelon.
I mean, let's face it.... Most of the time it just taste like water with fibres, how bad could the worst one be? Hence, I've voted this big round fruit as my favourite fruit of all.
Updated: Some times, this phobia reaches a certain degree where I feel like escaping my mom's constant nagging to eat more fruits is like making out of a harrowing situation with all four limbs attached. If you think I'm over-reacting, you would be stupefied by the lengths my mom takes with her unrelenting determination to force-feed me with fruits I solemnly detest.
I don't know if any of you suffer from the same "First-bite-phobia" as me but while eating durian today, I suddenly realized that I was very hesitant and doubtful of the first bite I was about to make. Will it taste bad? Bitter (not that I know of any bitter tasting durians..)? I don't know. In short, I just didn't know what kind of taste to expect, or rather, unexpect.
Reminiscing (Wow! I make my crap-thoughts sound so professional), I realized too that durian is the not only fruit I'm afraid of. OK, it's not really fear of the fruit itself, it's mostly fear of the unknown territory. Again, I make it sound as though I'm going to war or something but to quote Ms. Janna, "An academic essay is not really about how well you know the issue you're writing on, it's how much you can assure and persuade the reader to believe you know everything about that issue."
So yeah... I get this same FB-phobia every time I eat certain fruits such as mango, papaya, grapes or something in that region. It's like, before you eat it a series of thoughts fly through your head like "Worms!", "Strange test!", "Too sour!", "Too squishy!" and etc etc. It's mortifying. Every time I look at a plate of freshly sliced mango being served on the table, I would have my doubts about eating it and more often than not just pass on it. I would rather miss a good tasting fruit then experience its bad tasting counterpart.
There's one fruit though, that have never gave me any sort of fright what-so-ever: Watermelon.
I mean, let's face it.... Most of the time it just taste like water with fibres, how bad could the worst one be? Hence, I've voted this big round fruit as my favourite fruit of all.
Updated: Some times, this phobia reaches a certain degree where I feel like escaping my mom's constant nagging to eat more fruits is like making out of a harrowing situation with all four limbs attached. If you think I'm over-reacting, you would be stupefied by the lengths my mom takes with her unrelenting determination to force-feed me with fruits I solemnly detest.
Friday, August 18
Fukurokuju
I recently remembered a quote I heard a long long time ago... I guess it was the futile feeling of emptiness and heartache that dug up that sentence buried deep in my brain. Long before I could comprehend the meaning of it, I already had it deeply inputted in the hard-disc of my head, and now it's all coming back.
It goes, "It was a time when only the dead smiled, happy in their peace."
I hope I remember it correctly. Back then, I could not even imagine that one day this life will come to an irreversible full-stop so understanding why someone would prefer death over life and youth was far beyond my grasp. I guess at that age, I never thought that people will eventually grow old. My planet revolved around me and my sheltered life which I realize now is completely on a different orbit with reality. I doubt if they even existed in the same milky-way.
Anyway, after 18 short years of life, I can't say I've gain enough wisdom and experience to completely comprehend the meaning of life. However, I've come to know that it isn't always a bed of roses, and there is rarely ever a silver-lining to the clouds. The miseries I've been put through is nothing compared to the parentless orphan in Africa or the starving kid in Afghanistan, but it has at least given me a chance to understand that there are circumstances in life where death would seem such a beautiful option in comparison to reality.
There are even times when I think we should alter the quote a little to suit reality more. So I'm proposing a swift orderly change to "Death is the only time when the soul smiled, blissful in their inexistence."
In fact, I believe that all our religions even teach us that death is not only the best way out, it is the ONLY way out. Be it Christianity, Islam or even Buddhism, all our life-long sufferings and efforts seems to be designed to meet one goal and one goal alone -- death. Maybe I'm seeing this in the wrong light, maybe I'm to pessimist to do anybody any good, but don't we all learn that heaven and nirvana is where we should aim for? Isn't the netherworld the place to be for eternal happiness? Isn't the afterlife the one and only place where we can stumble upon the visible personification of perfection itself, be it an angel or God him/herself? Maybe you guys might think I'm a misanthrope, maybe you might think I'm just crapping nonsensical gibberish. Who knows, maybe all of these would prove obsolete one day... But just think about it, isn't this life just another inextricably complicated and intriguing puzzle which we play to pass our time?
But my dear dilettantes of despair, don't go jumping off buildings just yet. Remember, we still have the responsibility of growing old to suffer more pain and misery, maybe even undergo a few hip-surgeries. And if circumstances warrant, we should even "reproduce" to ensure a healthy line of offsprings who will relpace us in this miserable planet to go through all the hardship we have. So, I guess all I have left to say is relax and enjoy. Go now and wallow in your misery.
It goes, "It was a time when only the dead smiled, happy in their peace."
I hope I remember it correctly. Back then, I could not even imagine that one day this life will come to an irreversible full-stop so understanding why someone would prefer death over life and youth was far beyond my grasp. I guess at that age, I never thought that people will eventually grow old. My planet revolved around me and my sheltered life which I realize now is completely on a different orbit with reality. I doubt if they even existed in the same milky-way.
Anyway, after 18 short years of life, I can't say I've gain enough wisdom and experience to completely comprehend the meaning of life. However, I've come to know that it isn't always a bed of roses, and there is rarely ever a silver-lining to the clouds. The miseries I've been put through is nothing compared to the parentless orphan in Africa or the starving kid in Afghanistan, but it has at least given me a chance to understand that there are circumstances in life where death would seem such a beautiful option in comparison to reality.
There are even times when I think we should alter the quote a little to suit reality more. So I'm proposing a swift orderly change to "Death is the only time when the soul smiled, blissful in their inexistence."
In fact, I believe that all our religions even teach us that death is not only the best way out, it is the ONLY way out. Be it Christianity, Islam or even Buddhism, all our life-long sufferings and efforts seems to be designed to meet one goal and one goal alone -- death. Maybe I'm seeing this in the wrong light, maybe I'm to pessimist to do anybody any good, but don't we all learn that heaven and nirvana is where we should aim for? Isn't the netherworld the place to be for eternal happiness? Isn't the afterlife the one and only place where we can stumble upon the visible personification of perfection itself, be it an angel or God him/herself? Maybe you guys might think I'm a misanthrope, maybe you might think I'm just crapping nonsensical gibberish. Who knows, maybe all of these would prove obsolete one day... But just think about it, isn't this life just another inextricably complicated and intriguing puzzle which we play to pass our time?
But my dear dilettantes of despair, don't go jumping off buildings just yet. Remember, we still have the responsibility of growing old to suffer more pain and misery, maybe even undergo a few hip-surgeries. And if circumstances warrant, we should even "reproduce" to ensure a healthy line of offsprings who will relpace us in this miserable planet to go through all the hardship we have. So, I guess all I have left to say is relax and enjoy. Go now and wallow in your misery.
Wednesday, August 16
Dark Melancholy and Despair
It aches. As it beats with that soft thumping sound, it aches. Overwhelmed with the duty of nourishing and keeping the soul and body alive, its feeble walls break down as it is weighed down by sorrow. In it's own time, in it's own place, it aches.
Have you ever had your heart broken before? Have you had it trampled upon and stomped on by the one person or thing it longed to embrace? Have you ever felt your feelings swept aside as they shrugged you off? Have you ever felt your soul drowning as it gasps for air while the tides of reality crashed upon its shores?
It aches.
Have you ever had your heart broken before? Have you had it trampled upon and stomped on by the one person or thing it longed to embrace? Have you ever felt your feelings swept aside as they shrugged you off? Have you ever felt your soul drowning as it gasps for air while the tides of reality crashed upon its shores?
It aches.
Saturday, August 12
White Water Rafting & Caving Trip
Every single time I come back from a MAPs trip, you guys will have to hear me go, "Oh my god~! I think I just had the best day of my life!!!!!!!!"
Please don't ask why I seem to have so many "best" days because when you are in that state of euphoria, you are no longer able to reach a dimension called logical thinking. This is the third trip I’ve been with them and up until now, I haven’t regretted a single one of those trips. This time, we went caving at Gua Tempurung first then white water rafting at a river near some place called Kampung Chulek.
For the caving trip…. Wait! I want to use the word “spelunking”, it sounds a whole lot cooler. So, on the spelunking trip, at first we had to go on the normal road which was basically a whole lot of stairs that went up really really high so it was kinda boring. At one point I actually felt like sleeping and MShern complained why the steps upwards seemed to be never ending. God bless his stupid mouth cause a while after he said that, we reached a never ending downwards trail. *sigh* But later on the trip, we reached the end of the “civilised” road and so I thought, “OK, finally I can find a proper place to sleep.” Little did I know that the show was far from over. Right at that moment, we went off-trail and into the unknown.
Fine, not exactly unknown cause we had guides with us but saying “we charged head-first into the arms of the dark night” sounds a whole lot cooler. That was the point where all the fun started. First, we had to crawl under tunnels (really small ones, mind you) and slide down almost vertical cliffs. Then we had to leap (more like take a huge step but like I said, I’m trying to “cool-erize” it) into this tiny hole on the floor where we officially entered the underground pathway. It was awesome!
Then we had to get wet and all too and stumbled upon this underground waterway and we again had to crawl under tunnels but this time it was a lot harder and exhilarating because there was water and the whole place was pitch-black apart from the tiny beams of lights shining out from our torch-lights. For some parts of the trip, I felt like I was in the movie “The Descent” (I hope you guys watched it!). Oh, except for the fact that I was wearing sandals and there wasn’t really any evolved-human-creatures out to kill us. Dang it! If only we had to fight against something! I was fully prepared to clobber anybody to death with the ginormous box-light MShern brought along!
We had a lot of photo opportunities and trust me, we took all of it by the throat but I can’t post them up yet because I have to wait for Wen Yen to send me those pics.
After that which took about 2 hours plus, Amil came to pick us up to lead us to the white-water rafting site and get our lunch but unfortunately, this 72-year-old Scottish guy (whom I presume do not know any Bahasa Melayu) got lost and we ended but turning and U-turning around the same area until Wendy came to our rescue. Although the getting lost part was kinda frustrating, the adrenaline from the previous activity had me up on cloud nine and a matter as puny as that couldn’t possibly get me down anymore. OK, fine, I admit that I did get a little pissed at the dangerous way Amil was driving but hei, all’s well that ends well, right?
Later on, we got to the white-water rafting site and had our lunch and again, the mere sight of water had me so excited that for a brief moment, I actually became anxious. Heng Kai brought us into some jungle-like area where we reached the starting point of the rafting trip and Wendy gave us the 411 on necessary rafting and life-saving knowledge and let us do some body surfing. Without a moment to lose, we were on our way down the river with my adrenaline level on “Extreme” and my lips stretched in a smile to the highest degree.
As for the rafting part, it’s hard to put those awesome moments down to words because I doubt my brain was operating on a normal level at that time and everything seems to be so jumbled up but all I can say is, “I can’t think of anything else I could have done today or this whole week, for that matter, that could have compared to the fun I felt down that 1 and a half hour trip.”
The reason I didn’t say whole month is because at the end of August, MAPs is organising an off-road mountain biking trip and hopefully, I’ll get to go and who knows what will happen there, right?
Some of the more memorable points down the river was when as we were trying to avoid a rock at the center of the river, we paddled too hard to the right and went crashing into a tree that was lying low over the river. Yes, no exaggerations. We literally crashed into it, bang bang boom. Since it was like a very low and badly-set up canopy shielding the path which our raft just so happened to travel, I was basically dragged under the tree for that whole “impact-moment” which seemed like probably 5 minutes to me but I think it only took like 20 seconds. I don’t know why but when Wendy shouted “Duck!!” and all of them shrunk into the raft, I just so happened to be the one lying on top of them face-up so I had to shield myself with only my arms to protect me. Just my luck! The first time when we went under a less dangerous area, I had Wendy to shield me but this time when I could have seriously scrapped-off the skin on my forearms, nobody was there! Well, at least I didn’t bang my head on the branch sticking out like Chu Leik did. By the way, did you notice our friend on the trip had the same name with the kampong I mentioned earlier?
After we gallantly emerged from the stupid “canopy area”, I guess all the dirt and stuff from the tree must have rubbed off on my hands and face because they said I was literally brown in colour after that. And I had a ton of sand (and most probably dirt too, YUCK!!) in my mouth!
So, we reached our end point and very unfortunate under circumstances that can be fully blamed on the weather (which was really clear) and other forces unknown to us, me and Farhan’s raft lost to the one Mshern was on. But like I said, the factor of our “unexpected” results is to be blamed solely on the time and tide, not the fact that we none of us could have paddled successfully even if our life depended on it. And do you remember the 72 years old gramps, Amil, who I was talking about? Though he may look frail and white-haired, this guy is probably the grandfather of Hercules man! He is so cool and practically saved our raft from being stranded on the river numerous times!
On a more serious and heartfelt note, every time after we finished our activities, the MAPs people will sit us down and ask us how we felt about that day and our feelings and try to reach in to a deeper part of us -- our heart and souls. And every single time I wanted to tell them this but never got the courage to do so:
Please don't ask why I seem to have so many "best" days because when you are in that state of euphoria, you are no longer able to reach a dimension called logical thinking. This is the third trip I’ve been with them and up until now, I haven’t regretted a single one of those trips. This time, we went caving at Gua Tempurung first then white water rafting at a river near some place called Kampung Chulek.
For the caving trip…. Wait! I want to use the word “spelunking”, it sounds a whole lot cooler. So, on the spelunking trip, at first we had to go on the normal road which was basically a whole lot of stairs that went up really really high so it was kinda boring. At one point I actually felt like sleeping and MShern complained why the steps upwards seemed to be never ending. God bless his stupid mouth cause a while after he said that, we reached a never ending downwards trail. *sigh* But later on the trip, we reached the end of the “civilised” road and so I thought, “OK, finally I can find a proper place to sleep.” Little did I know that the show was far from over. Right at that moment, we went off-trail and into the unknown.
Fine, not exactly unknown cause we had guides with us but saying “we charged head-first into the arms of the dark night” sounds a whole lot cooler. That was the point where all the fun started. First, we had to crawl under tunnels (really small ones, mind you) and slide down almost vertical cliffs. Then we had to leap (more like take a huge step but like I said, I’m trying to “cool-erize” it) into this tiny hole on the floor where we officially entered the underground pathway. It was awesome!
Then we had to get wet and all too and stumbled upon this underground waterway and we again had to crawl under tunnels but this time it was a lot harder and exhilarating because there was water and the whole place was pitch-black apart from the tiny beams of lights shining out from our torch-lights. For some parts of the trip, I felt like I was in the movie “The Descent” (I hope you guys watched it!). Oh, except for the fact that I was wearing sandals and there wasn’t really any evolved-human-creatures out to kill us. Dang it! If only we had to fight against something! I was fully prepared to clobber anybody to death with the ginormous box-light MShern brought along!
We had a lot of photo opportunities and trust me, we took all of it by the throat but I can’t post them up yet because I have to wait for Wen Yen to send me those pics.
After that which took about 2 hours plus, Amil came to pick us up to lead us to the white-water rafting site and get our lunch but unfortunately, this 72-year-old Scottish guy (whom I presume do not know any Bahasa Melayu) got lost and we ended but turning and U-turning around the same area until Wendy came to our rescue. Although the getting lost part was kinda frustrating, the adrenaline from the previous activity had me up on cloud nine and a matter as puny as that couldn’t possibly get me down anymore. OK, fine, I admit that I did get a little pissed at the dangerous way Amil was driving but hei, all’s well that ends well, right?
Later on, we got to the white-water rafting site and had our lunch and again, the mere sight of water had me so excited that for a brief moment, I actually became anxious. Heng Kai brought us into some jungle-like area where we reached the starting point of the rafting trip and Wendy gave us the 411 on necessary rafting and life-saving knowledge and let us do some body surfing. Without a moment to lose, we were on our way down the river with my adrenaline level on “Extreme” and my lips stretched in a smile to the highest degree.
As for the rafting part, it’s hard to put those awesome moments down to words because I doubt my brain was operating on a normal level at that time and everything seems to be so jumbled up but all I can say is, “I can’t think of anything else I could have done today or this whole week, for that matter, that could have compared to the fun I felt down that 1 and a half hour trip.”
The reason I didn’t say whole month is because at the end of August, MAPs is organising an off-road mountain biking trip and hopefully, I’ll get to go and who knows what will happen there, right?
Some of the more memorable points down the river was when as we were trying to avoid a rock at the center of the river, we paddled too hard to the right and went crashing into a tree that was lying low over the river. Yes, no exaggerations. We literally crashed into it, bang bang boom. Since it was like a very low and badly-set up canopy shielding the path which our raft just so happened to travel, I was basically dragged under the tree for that whole “impact-moment” which seemed like probably 5 minutes to me but I think it only took like 20 seconds. I don’t know why but when Wendy shouted “Duck!!” and all of them shrunk into the raft, I just so happened to be the one lying on top of them face-up so I had to shield myself with only my arms to protect me. Just my luck! The first time when we went under a less dangerous area, I had Wendy to shield me but this time when I could have seriously scrapped-off the skin on my forearms, nobody was there! Well, at least I didn’t bang my head on the branch sticking out like Chu Leik did. By the way, did you notice our friend on the trip had the same name with the kampong I mentioned earlier?
After we gallantly emerged from the stupid “canopy area”, I guess all the dirt and stuff from the tree must have rubbed off on my hands and face because they said I was literally brown in colour after that. And I had a ton of sand (and most probably dirt too, YUCK!!) in my mouth!
So, we reached our end point and very unfortunate under circumstances that can be fully blamed on the weather (which was really clear) and other forces unknown to us, me and Farhan’s raft lost to the one Mshern was on. But like I said, the factor of our “unexpected” results is to be blamed solely on the time and tide, not the fact that we none of us could have paddled successfully even if our life depended on it. And do you remember the 72 years old gramps, Amil, who I was talking about? Though he may look frail and white-haired, this guy is probably the grandfather of Hercules man! He is so cool and practically saved our raft from being stranded on the river numerous times!
On a more serious and heartfelt note, every time after we finished our activities, the MAPs people will sit us down and ask us how we felt about that day and our feelings and try to reach in to a deeper part of us -- our heart and souls. And every single time I wanted to tell them this but never got the courage to do so:
Ever since I learned how to dream, I’ve been dreaming about going on these activities but never had a chance to do so. Ever since I learned how to plan for my future, I swore to myself that one day I will find the time and means to indulge myself in such activities but I never figured out how that would work, until now. And I think that having been lucky enough to stumble upon this MAPs group is truly the second best thing that happened to me after basketball and I can’t thank all of them enough for bringing that part of the world into our lives.
Friday, August 11
Did I really like HIM or was i just addicted to the pain?
The exquisite pain of wanting someone so unattainable.
Quoted from one the episodes of Sex and the City Season 1
This particular statement hit me straight like a dart being thrown at the board and it hit bull's eye. So in case you people out there who know nuts or relatively know very little about Sex and the City, I'll give u a brief HEADS UP on what this series is all about. So i guess the title pretty much says it all, YOU KNOW, SEX AND THE CITY. 4 women getting laid and yada yada. The ONLY REASON why i started watching this series was because One Tree Hill's SEASON ended the same time THE O.C ended. So it pretty much leaves me with NOTHING to watch since Desperate HOUSEWIVES season ended too and Bedford Diaries isn't updating their episodes. So I decided on Sex and The City. Since people say its good and it's ALL group up PROPERLY in torrentspy like COMPLETE SEASON 1 of SEX AND THE CITY, COMPLETE SEASON 2 of SEX AND THE CITY, COMPLETE SEASON 3 of SEX AND THE CITY, COMPLETE SEASON 4 OF SEX AND THE CITY, COMPLETE SEASON 5 of SEX AND THE CITY and COMPLETE SEASON 6 of SEX AND THE CITY. Just ONE CLICK and TOMORROW we can feast on IT and not having to update ONE episode by one episode.SO,Yes! SO far I completed till SEASON 5 in just two weeks equals to A MOUNTAIN of emotional WRECKSHIP for me.
I know! I know! HOW can sex and city get someone so EMO right!? I was watching the series for the drama and not the SEX you see. Thats WHY-LAH.
You guys probably say it's just a stupid series, they make MILLIONs and BILLIONs AND ZILLIONs and GAZALLIONs of MONEY to make you feel all depressed right? IT'S all SUPERFICIAL. Mostly everything she said in there WERE truth and facts.That's IF you really hear what she says in every EPISODE. The way they potray her in that series was someward COOL. Like in every episode she has a conversation with herself, like talking to YOURSELF in the head. And I ACTUALLY RELATE to it. NOT in every way. Even if I didnt relate to some of the things she said in there, most of the SCENARIO in there happen to actual people in REAL LIFE.
Like she knew she was involve with someone who was GOING no where.He was just so emotionally unattainable and every other way. It was a PAINful relationship but she still stayed around that relationship.He was like a massacre but TRULY she was actually the true massacre. She was the one who tied herself to him and kept whipping herself.A whip called RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM.He said "I love You" but then the GESTURE wasn't the SAME par a what he said.He did not factor her in his life in any other way.
This year started in a horrid way and I kept getting involve in WEIRD relationships with a few guys which made myself MORE confuse and i kept pondering why i keep getting punished for something i did NOT do?. Up until recently I was involved with this guy and I PROMISE myself that I'll RUN for my LIFE if there is any SIMILIARITY of my past relationships. IT wasn't similiar in any way but then i finally REALISED its the PAIN of the relationship that was EXACTLY the SAME. THE PAIN kept me wanting MORE from the relationship.I was addicted TO PAIN.Taadaa* You know the feeling of being in between a YES and a NO.Like BRINGING a 3 year old kid in a CANDY store and telling him you can't have any of them?. That kind of pain.
I just seem to get trap around ppl who are caught in a web of emotion MESS and I'm the victim for them to feed ON. They just have something GOING on up in their skull and I can see it.My instincts tells me RUN before they HUNT you down.It's LIKE you stupidly asking a canniball are you going to eat me or ARE you a carnivore? WHEN truly YOU know HE is GOING to feast on YOU if u dont RUN away soon. Instead I ask them if there is something WRONG when I can see that THERE IS SOMETHING going up there which I shouldn't be involve or be a part of.
So you may say,
You can just cut yourself loose.
I either can keep lingering around till i get the definate answer and actually get a chance of being HAPPY or being CRUSHED again.
but if I cut myself LOOSE from being held UP high up in mid-air feeling vulnerable and hopeful at the same time.The probability of being close to HAPPY is also close to NIL.
Either way I Lose
plus a risk and equals to HURT
Usually THE more You play a game the more EXPERT you get isnt it?
I played this game called LOVE or relationship or WHATEVER it is called
and still is playing.
This game had no rules or boundaries or fouls
Nobody is right nor wrong.
Then WHY do i feel LIKE I'm The one losing MORE than i should have?
How can a game so FUN and at the same time push you to the edge of sanity?
What is the right thing to do?
I hack her BLOG and write a post here and got YOU guys excited.
The Rain In Spain Falls Mainly In The Planes
Today, I had my official first ever real General Paper lesson.
Since Mr. Derek went abroad for a couple of weeks, this lady called Ms. Jana took over for him and by jolly is she cool or what, dudes and dudettes!
She rocks so hard she would put Jack Black to shame!
First of all, let me just say that in this post, I would try my best to emulate her so be warned about some bombastic words that might jump out (Wana know why I used "huge" for the font size of this word? Cause it's jumping out at you~! Haha, I'm lame. I know and I've already accepted this as a fact) at you. From now on, Slur and I are on a mission to alleviate our standard and command of the English language and will try our best to incorporate “classy” (in other words, usage of normally-unheard-of-words in the Manglish culture will be our main objective here) words and eliminate, to the greatest extend, our tendency towards speaking “rojak” English. So that means “lah” and “ma” and the likes of it will no longer show its presence amongst our conversation anymore. I’m still in the “Ms. Jana Craze”, and despite the similar names, the only resemblance Ms. Jeeva bares to her is their professionalism in blatantly gunning down wayward students in class, namely crap-ers like Farhan and Yin Pang.
Ms. Jana came in a bit late, like say 20 minutes in a one hour class…. But I say "What does that iota of time means when you think on a larger scale where even her presence for 40 minutes can indulge us in the experience of having our first real English language class?" Because of her Malaysian-timing, at first a few of us were a little pissed-off by her and were grumbling our way to class but I assure you, after 40 minutes of her time, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else anymore.
She was so proper and professional in everything, the teaching and way of talking and as I mentioned earlier, handling “crapper”s. I’m sure that after a single one of Ms. Jana’s class, Yin Pang will think twice before he opens his gap in GP class again. She had something to say about everything he said and was able to substantiate her replies with unfamiliar words and complete authority. Her quote for the day? “So he’s the class “crapper”, is he?”
Anyway, in her 40 minutes of class, she was able to bring into play the words like “zealous”, “prowess”, “superfluous”, “bombastic” (even the way she says this word makes it sound cool), “substantiate” and a few others I’ve forgotten. In my entire life, I have never even heard “zealous” being utilized in a conversation whereas Ms. Jana effortlessly followed it up with so many more “classy” words.
But the main point of the day was SHE WAS ABLE TO SHUT YIN PANG UP, and for anybody who doesn’t know who Yin Pang is, trust me, that pie-hole of his is not an easy one to close.
Gosh, Ms. Jana~! Such contrast when you put her side-by-side with Ms. Jeeva! That must be why Mr. Shakespeare said, “Oh, what is in a name? A rose by any other name, will smell as sweet.”
Here she has clearly proven that it’s the context much rather than the glitzy cover that radiates supremacy.
Since Mr. Derek went abroad for a couple of weeks, this lady called Ms. Jana took over for him and by jolly is she cool or what, dudes and dudettes!
She rocks so hard she would put Jack Black to shame!
First of all, let me just say that in this post, I would try my best to emulate her so be warned about some bombastic words that might jump out (Wana know why I used "huge" for the font size of this word? Cause it's jumping out at you~! Haha, I'm lame. I know and I've already accepted this as a fact) at you. From now on, Slur and I are on a mission to alleviate our standard and command of the English language and will try our best to incorporate “classy” (in other words, usage of normally-unheard-of-words in the Manglish culture will be our main objective here) words and eliminate, to the greatest extend, our tendency towards speaking “rojak” English. So that means “lah” and “ma” and the likes of it will no longer show its presence amongst our conversation anymore. I’m still in the “Ms. Jana Craze”, and despite the similar names, the only resemblance Ms. Jeeva bares to her is their professionalism in blatantly gunning down wayward students in class, namely crap-ers like Farhan and Yin Pang.
Ms. Jana came in a bit late, like say 20 minutes in a one hour class…. But I say "What does that iota of time means when you think on a larger scale where even her presence for 40 minutes can indulge us in the experience of having our first real English language class?" Because of her Malaysian-timing, at first a few of us were a little pissed-off by her and were grumbling our way to class but I assure you, after 40 minutes of her time, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else anymore.
She was so proper and professional in everything, the teaching and way of talking and as I mentioned earlier, handling “crapper”s. I’m sure that after a single one of Ms. Jana’s class, Yin Pang will think twice before he opens his gap in GP class again. She had something to say about everything he said and was able to substantiate her replies with unfamiliar words and complete authority. Her quote for the day? “So he’s the class “crapper”, is he?”
Anyway, in her 40 minutes of class, she was able to bring into play the words like “zealous”, “prowess”, “superfluous”, “bombastic” (even the way she says this word makes it sound cool), “substantiate” and a few others I’ve forgotten. In my entire life, I have never even heard “zealous” being utilized in a conversation whereas Ms. Jana effortlessly followed it up with so many more “classy” words.
But the main point of the day was SHE WAS ABLE TO SHUT YIN PANG UP, and for anybody who doesn’t know who Yin Pang is, trust me, that pie-hole of his is not an easy one to close.
Gosh, Ms. Jana~! Such contrast when you put her side-by-side with Ms. Jeeva! That must be why Mr. Shakespeare said, “Oh, what is in a name? A rose by any other name, will smell as sweet.”
Here she has clearly proven that it’s the context much rather than the glitzy cover that radiates supremacy.
Thursday, August 10
Ayam Bakar
It's proven that cooking ability is definitely not genetic. Reason: My mom doesn't know the difference between edible vegies and non-edible ones (hence her mom (my late grandma) have prohibited her from eating any kind of leaf or fruits that she might pick up by the roadside or in the garden since she was a kid) whereas I heard Queen Lizzie is considering giving me a Knighthood for my sublimely magnificent cooking skills. Seriously! Boy, can I cook or what!
Yesterday, me and my mom made roasted chicken which was perfectly marinaded with the best sauce and herbs ever for the family. By "family" I meant me, my mom and my dad. Considering that my parents "Meat Eating Capabilities" are roughly equal to Mei Ling's, my mom said she sure wish my eldest brother was there to help finish up the food.
Here's some quick-info for you guys:
1) Mei Ling eats very very VERY little meat. Actually she eats "very little" of everything except that horrible tasting sandwhich (no idea why she finds it so nice) hence her petite body size.
2) My brother eats about the same amount of food that can be used to feed a starving nation for a day in a single meal.
Anyway, when my mom said that, I couldn't help but think to myself "HELL-O~! This is just a chicken, OK? A single chicken half the size of those obese babies out there! Even if you guys can't do your job I sure ain't gona fail in this."
I have this strange habit where I really hate losing in stupid stuffs. I don't mind if I don't top-score my exams or anything but... Yeah, you know. I was born to do stupid things that no normal human being could comprehend.
So, the roasted chicken tasted superb (like every other thingI cook). Seriously, if your guys have to pay RM6 for that piece of badly cooked meat at Le Cafe, you guys better be ready to fork up a fortune for a piece of this kick-ass chicken.
It was mouth-watering, it was thought provoking. In short, it was deliciously yummy. And as previously speculated, my parents' combined effort saw them finishing a little more than what Mei Ling could eat on her own so it was up to me to settle the rest. As I sat there on the table having an eye-duel with the chicken, I laughed at it and thought, "Come on baby, I can eat you like an elephant eats an ant!". Please don't ask me since when did elephants started eating ants, I just thought of it cause you know, it sounded cool at that time... (=_=")
Ten minutes later, I was still at that table with roughly 40% of the chicken left and my tummy 250% full. It's strange you know. I used to be able to eat 4 freaking plates on one go without even batting an eyelid and now, I can't even finish a whole chicken.
Remember the "Stupidity Pride" issue I was telling you guys just now? Well, at that moment, the spirit of Eugene and my big bro came in and it took me around another 45 minutes to finish that whole chicken. Of course, the pride of winning a battle is uncomprable and at the same time, the price is unbearable.
I swear on my right pinky that I shall not touch chicken for the next week and shall never attempt to finish a whole chicken by myself again. So, what was the result of me eating all that?
I could barely move for an hour right after that, I couldn't really do anything for the rest of the night, my metabolism was probably kicked to high-gear as I was sweating like that chicken must have been sweating when it was roasting in the oven and I had a very very serious stomach problem this morning. How serious? I had to come home from school cause I can't take it anymore eventhough I had this desperate urge to keep staying in school so I can go to basketball later AND disturb PF during Pure Maths class. Yes! It was so bad I gave up basketball and disturbing PF!!
It's not the kind of go-to-toilet-and-settle it problem... It was more like I have to eat breakfast because of this stupid gastric problem but I seriously don't want to touch any food or anything related to it. By jolly, I couldn't even finish a freaking small bowl of soup!
Haha, but at least I kicked that pitiful chicken's ass back where it belonged! Victory is mine!!
PS: If any of you think I'm stupid and a little cookoo... Well then, sod it cause I don't give a *toot*ing damn!
Wednesday, August 9
4 Months To Exit The Well
I want to see you painted black
Be that part of a memory I'm bound to forget
Don't want to know where you're at
It doesn't really matter cause I ain't looking back.
Stand like a wallflower in a crowded room
Stop being the reflection of a beautiful blue moon
Blow me away with your heart of a monsoon
Let me forget you come next June.
You took my body, you're like a disease
Love is like a shooting star on a breeze
Running away from it, wishing to chance upon it,
It's all just a freaking tease.
Be that part of a memory I'm bound to forget
Don't want to know where you're at
It doesn't really matter cause I ain't looking back.
Stand like a wallflower in a crowded room
Stop being the reflection of a beautiful blue moon
Blow me away with your heart of a monsoon
Let me forget you come next June.
You took my body, you're like a disease
Love is like a shooting star on a breeze
Running away from it, wishing to chance upon it,
It's all just a freaking tease.
Saturday, August 5
Western Super Heroes
Recently, I thought of categorizing my posts into groups and stuff so I started thinking about "cool" category names but first, I have to sort out my types of posts first. It ended like this:
Category one: Crappy.
Category two: Crappy... too.
Category three: A lil more crappier than the first two.
Category four: This list could go on forever....
So I was forced to abort my Operation Clean-Up Battlefield as 99% of my post will go into category one, two and three...
Anyway, to the point here. What do Spiderman, Superman and Batman have in common?
First of all, I just realized all their names end with "man", how lame is that? Oh my god, most super heroes have names that end with "man"! He-man, Ultraman, Cat Woman.... X-Men. The creators are seriously lacking in the name giving department, aren't they?
But that's not the common thing I was thinking about. What I realized is that ALL of them have a penchant towards wearing tight rubber-like suits. I know they have a great body and all but do they really have to show it off like that?
OK, this guy seems to be a bad example as he doesn't really have protruding chunks of muscle but look at how tight his suit is! He's already busy enough trying to save the world so don't you think the creators should give him a break and dress him in something more comfortable?! And oh my god those ugly red boots! Did no one thought them how to dress up? Not that I have good taste in clothes but even someone like Farhan would know that this is definitely wrong, man.
And is red and blue the "in" super hero colour? Plus, again, the red boots! Another thing you should notice about Spiderman is the mask. Not only is the extremely tight suit preventing him from breathing normally, he also has to bare the tight mask pressing against his nose and the silver-coloured eye patches that resemble aluminium foils more than tinted windows. But his pose is definitely more "gaya" than Superman.... Hei~! Do you guys remember that red, blue and yellow are the prime colours in arts? Look at Superman's colours! Red cape, boots and outside-wear, blue spandex suit and yellow belt. This means that the creator either got lazy of mixing the colours up so just stuck with the prime colours or Superman is trying to hint that he is like the "basic" of life, you know... Like the "prime" part of life or something like that. OK, fine~ It's lame!
*sweat* I suddenly had this image of Prakash standing in the Superman pose flash pass my brain......
Thank god this guy aint dressed in red and blue or I just might go crazy.
According to what I know, Batman aint wearing a spandex suit as the thing is like an armour so it should be hard. Maybe it's made of plastic... It sure does look like it in this picture. Haha, this guy must be a total loser because he purposely carved in the "muscles" on his suit! I still say it's uncomfortable.
OK, those are the examples of western super heroes. Now let us move on to their Asian counterparts who have a looooot better dress sense than them.
Take a look at Dragon Ball for example. If I'm not mistaken, the only ones who wore spandex suits in the whole of Dragon Ball was Bezita and his kind when he was still a bad guy. By the way, Fliza and Cell were NOT wearing anything so that does not count. Now these people prove that being a super hero isn't just about wearing really really tight and ugly suit.
See? All of them are wearing lose fitting cotton (I presume) clothing and they're strong enough to use a "bola jiwa" the size of a whole planet. Can Superman do that? NO! Why? Probably because he has too hard a time trying to prevent his balls being crushed by the suit.
Have any of you heard of Pendekar Laut? I doubt it.. Anyway, I think that Pendekar Laut is the best dressed super hero of all time. Seriously, he beats Mask Black Rider, He-Man and Godzilla any time, anywhere, hands down and tied behind his back. I can't really find a full size picture of him so I guess you guys will have to make do with this.
This guy is so cool he can rip a ship up with his (I directly translated it) "Magnetic Spinning Power" and change the chemical bonds within the molecules that makes up the metals and turn them into clothes he needs to wear as a result of swimming in the ocean nude and suddenly having to attend to an emergency. And he wears sunnies and a uber cool trench coat!
And unlike those goodie-goodie super heroes who can't kill villians because they're innocent (I can't believe I could fit those 2 words in a single sentence), Pendekar Laut can totally kick ass and just "bang bang boom!" Down goes those useless people standing in his way! He is so cool, he makes Napolean Dynamite look hot!
Anyway, I just wanted to discuss the westerner's tendency towards wearing tight suits but then through out the course of this post, I realized that the Asian heroes aren't really too far behind in the badly-dressed department so it turned into a pretty pointless post.
Category one: Crappy.
Category two: Crappy... too.
Category three: A lil more crappier than the first two.
Category four: This list could go on forever....
So I was forced to abort my Operation Clean-Up Battlefield as 99% of my post will go into category one, two and three...
Anyway, to the point here. What do Spiderman, Superman and Batman have in common?
First of all, I just realized all their names end with "man", how lame is that? Oh my god, most super heroes have names that end with "man"! He-man, Ultraman, Cat Woman.... X-Men. The creators are seriously lacking in the name giving department, aren't they?
But that's not the common thing I was thinking about. What I realized is that ALL of them have a penchant towards wearing tight rubber-like suits. I know they have a great body and all but do they really have to show it off like that?
OK, this guy seems to be a bad example as he doesn't really have protruding chunks of muscle but look at how tight his suit is! He's already busy enough trying to save the world so don't you think the creators should give him a break and dress him in something more comfortable?! And oh my god those ugly red boots! Did no one thought them how to dress up? Not that I have good taste in clothes but even someone like Farhan would know that this is definitely wrong, man.
And is red and blue the "in" super hero colour? Plus, again, the red boots! Another thing you should notice about Spiderman is the mask. Not only is the extremely tight suit preventing him from breathing normally, he also has to bare the tight mask pressing against his nose and the silver-coloured eye patches that resemble aluminium foils more than tinted windows. But his pose is definitely more "gaya" than Superman.... Hei~! Do you guys remember that red, blue and yellow are the prime colours in arts? Look at Superman's colours! Red cape, boots and outside-wear, blue spandex suit and yellow belt. This means that the creator either got lazy of mixing the colours up so just stuck with the prime colours or Superman is trying to hint that he is like the "basic" of life, you know... Like the "prime" part of life or something like that. OK, fine~ It's lame!
*sweat* I suddenly had this image of Prakash standing in the Superman pose flash pass my brain......
Thank god this guy aint dressed in red and blue or I just might go crazy.According to what I know, Batman aint wearing a spandex suit as the thing is like an armour so it should be hard. Maybe it's made of plastic... It sure does look like it in this picture. Haha, this guy must be a total loser because he purposely carved in the "muscles" on his suit! I still say it's uncomfortable.
OK, those are the examples of western super heroes. Now let us move on to their Asian counterparts who have a looooot better dress sense than them.
Take a look at Dragon Ball for example. If I'm not mistaken, the only ones who wore spandex suits in the whole of Dragon Ball was Bezita and his kind when he was still a bad guy. By the way, Fliza and Cell were NOT wearing anything so that does not count. Now these people prove that being a super hero isn't just about wearing really really tight and ugly suit.
See? All of them are wearing lose fitting cotton (I presume) clothing and they're strong enough to use a "bola jiwa" the size of a whole planet. Can Superman do that? NO! Why? Probably because he has too hard a time trying to prevent his balls being crushed by the suit.
Have any of you heard of Pendekar Laut? I doubt it.. Anyway, I think that Pendekar Laut is the best dressed super hero of all time. Seriously, he beats Mask Black Rider, He-Man and Godzilla any time, anywhere, hands down and tied behind his back. I can't really find a full size picture of him so I guess you guys will have to make do with this.This guy is so cool he can rip a ship up with his (I directly translated it) "Magnetic Spinning Power" and change the chemical bonds within the molecules that makes up the metals and turn them into clothes he needs to wear as a result of swimming in the ocean nude and suddenly having to attend to an emergency. And he wears sunnies and a uber cool trench coat!
And unlike those goodie-goodie super heroes who can't kill villians because they're innocent (I can't believe I could fit those 2 words in a single sentence), Pendekar Laut can totally kick ass and just "bang bang boom!" Down goes those useless people standing in his way! He is so cool, he makes Napolean Dynamite look hot!
Anyway, I just wanted to discuss the westerner's tendency towards wearing tight suits but then through out the course of this post, I realized that the Asian heroes aren't really too far behind in the badly-dressed department so it turned into a pretty pointless post.
Wednesday, August 2
"Man-Made" Natural Filters
You know how I'm very capable of thinking up a bunch of crap, right?
My trail of thoughts includes stuffs like when you do those chemistry experiments and you have to test the gas coming out of the test tube so you close the mouth of the tube with a finger to prevent it from going out, right? Well, I thought what if you're allergic to say... NH3 gas?? Or worse, H2 gas!! Would you give up your beautiful finger for your lab test?
OK, I know it's stupid.
Oh, and I also thought of a way to reduce pollution and the amount of smokers at the same time. All of us feel annoyed of being the second-hand smokers, right? So how do you prevent the smoke from the stupid smoker travelling into "your territory"? Of course, you make sure the smoke is contained in an area. How do you make this happen? We can build smoking rooms who nobody uses, OR we could tie a plastic bag around the smokers head so the smoke he gives out stay in that bag. And since it's tied around his head, he won't have to go through the trouble of holding it up. As for the little problem where he can't move the cigarette around because the plastic is in the way, well, all I can say is "Learn to adapt". Easy and practical. If some of you feel like "How are they going to breathe then?", notice I said "REDUCE THE AMOUNT OF SMOKERS", in other words, they'll just drop dead like flies. As I see it, if they love inhaling that gas so much, they might as well not waste a single bit of it.
While we're still on the topic of smoking and lungs, let me bring you to the main point of this blog: "Man-made natural filters".
Lungs. They are amazing, aren't they? So, anyway, if you smoke, residues of the smoke (tar) get left behind in the lungs, right? I mean it's like a filter paper, you put murky water true it and clear water comes out whereas the filth gets left on the paper.
I'm going to use that as the basic concept for lungs, dirty air goes in, exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide happens, filtered air comes out.
So, what if... (please notice that this is just a thought). What IF we breathe in smelly air like say, someone farted a nuke in the car and there's no way to wind down the windows. That would mean the fart-air would be in the car for a long time which will eventually end up in our lungs. I bet a lot of you already know what I'm going to ask.
What happen to the fart-residues in the air? I mean like, smelly (regardless of nice or bad) is because the small particles of the thing that's giving out the smell is floating around in the air, you breathe that air in, those floating particles go in as well.
According to my previous Filter Paper Theory, air filled with those particles goes in and air lacking of those particles comes out. In the case of smoking, the tar residue gets stuck in the lung which leads to lung cancer, right? So in the case of the fart incident, does that mean the fart-particles get stuck in our lungs?
When you think of it this way, all those dirty smells we smell everyday enter our lungs (like duh~ or not why would you be able to smell it!), right? Which means all those dirty filthy particles are getting stuck in our lungs everyday, little by little....
Eeewww~ Imagine how dirty your lungs are and how smelly they would be if you opened them up!!
PS: This post has 0.00% of scientific facts in it.
My trail of thoughts includes stuffs like when you do those chemistry experiments and you have to test the gas coming out of the test tube so you close the mouth of the tube with a finger to prevent it from going out, right? Well, I thought what if you're allergic to say... NH3 gas?? Or worse, H2 gas!! Would you give up your beautiful finger for your lab test?
OK, I know it's stupid.
Oh, and I also thought of a way to reduce pollution and the amount of smokers at the same time. All of us feel annoyed of being the second-hand smokers, right? So how do you prevent the smoke from the stupid smoker travelling into "your territory"? Of course, you make sure the smoke is contained in an area. How do you make this happen? We can build smoking rooms who nobody uses, OR we could tie a plastic bag around the smokers head so the smoke he gives out stay in that bag. And since it's tied around his head, he won't have to go through the trouble of holding it up. As for the little problem where he can't move the cigarette around because the plastic is in the way, well, all I can say is "Learn to adapt". Easy and practical. If some of you feel like "How are they going to breathe then?", notice I said "REDUCE THE AMOUNT OF SMOKERS", in other words, they'll just drop dead like flies. As I see it, if they love inhaling that gas so much, they might as well not waste a single bit of it.
While we're still on the topic of smoking and lungs, let me bring you to the main point of this blog: "Man-made natural filters".
Lungs. They are amazing, aren't they? So, anyway, if you smoke, residues of the smoke (tar) get left behind in the lungs, right? I mean it's like a filter paper, you put murky water true it and clear water comes out whereas the filth gets left on the paper.I'm going to use that as the basic concept for lungs, dirty air goes in, exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide happens, filtered air comes out.
So, what if... (please notice that this is just a thought). What IF we breathe in smelly air like say, someone farted a nuke in the car and there's no way to wind down the windows. That would mean the fart-air would be in the car for a long time which will eventually end up in our lungs. I bet a lot of you already know what I'm going to ask.
What happen to the fart-residues in the air? I mean like, smelly (regardless of nice or bad) is because the small particles of the thing that's giving out the smell is floating around in the air, you breathe that air in, those floating particles go in as well.
According to my previous Filter Paper Theory, air filled with those particles goes in and air lacking of those particles comes out. In the case of smoking, the tar residue gets stuck in the lung which leads to lung cancer, right? So in the case of the fart incident, does that mean the fart-particles get stuck in our lungs?
When you think of it this way, all those dirty smells we smell everyday enter our lungs (like duh~ or not why would you be able to smell it!), right? Which means all those dirty filthy particles are getting stuck in our lungs everyday, little by little....
Eeewww~ Imagine how dirty your lungs are and how smelly they would be if you opened them up!!
PS: This post has 0.00% of scientific facts in it.
Tuesday, August 1
Dek, Yang Tu Panggil 'Epal Hijau'
So, we all know that football is the "in" thing right now and even after the World Cup bid its goodbye, a lot of us are still going goo-goo gaa-gaa over this game, right?
Every Tom, Dick and Harry plus the average Joe and Jane still can't stop talking about the ultimate sport, the beautiful game and of course, they can't stop playing it either. Well, apparently, our dear and very much loved Slur (I bet you have been anticipating this post with a very worried heart) is also from this group of "Football Worshippers" because as un-athletic as she might be, she seriously loves kicking round objects (Thou shat refrain from saying "kicking balls"). What makes me say this? Read on, little lambs.
OK, now when did this happen? Ah~, I remember. It was a day not so long ago, a time not so distant from now.... (In other words yesterday morning). Slur's friend Yee Theng and her boyfriend (sorry I don't know his name) came to pick Slur and I up from college to go indulge ourselves in some early morning Baskins 31 (the road to obesity is never too early to travel).
Anyway, *bla bla bla bla bla*. We arrive at Baskins at about 10.30am, which is perfect because that's when they open, right? The sky was clear and pretty, the day was young and promising, and as we later found out, "Slur-ness" was on a record high.
The four of us were walking down the lane, Yee Theng and Slur arm in arm whereas I was busy thinking of what to order. Then suddenly, some green apples on the ground came into view and before I could say anything, Slur suddenly says, "Football!!!" and intentionally purposely with full-conscious went to kick the apple as hard as she can. I was awe-struck by how reckless some people can get that it took me a few nano-second to be able to blurt out, "SLUR!!! THOSE ARE THE PRAYER THINGY APPLES!!!!!" while pointing at the ginormous joss sticks lined up at the side of the road.
Yes, you read correct. Slur (during the Ghost Month, mind you) went full power and kicked the apples someone left by the road as offerings. Fortunately for her, she isn't really good at kicking because the apple didn't go far. At the very instant I said those words, I saw a huge hamster (a.k.a. Slur) run full speed after the rolling apple while shouting "Oooh~ SHIT!!!!". Now, a picture paints a thousand words and at that moment, a video would have won us the "Most Hilarious Moment of The Year" award, hands down. As the roads was curved and a little down-hill type, just as Slur ran upwards, the apple turned around and started rolling down. You can just imagine how she looked, arms out-stretched, body half-bent trying to reach for the ground and the most panicked expression on her face while running after a small little green apple.
Well, at least it didn't fall into the drain or anything and Slur got the apple back in front of the joss sticks. After that, she squat by the road-side as if she wanted to use the toilet and started praying and asking for forgiveness. Honestly, she looked like she had a terrible stomach ache.
All's well that ends well, right? So, after one and a half days, Slur is still alive and well with no signs of "interaction" with the other realm; However, I would like to advice all of you to not bring her along in any activity that contains even a slight risk factor. Don't get me wrong, I'm not concerned about her well being or anything, I would just hate to see a few friends die because one of them decided to display her non-talent in football which caused the bad, evil, hungry ghost to seek revenge.
By the way, when I asked her why she would just simply kick apples she sees by the road-side when she knows perfectly well that Chinese people give offerings in such a manner, she said, "I thought those apples fell from a tree or something."
PS: In case any of you are wondering, I believe the only tall and thin thing that was around that area was a lamp post.
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