Typos

I went to the station on Saturday, the Police Station. Why you might ask. Well, if you hadn’t known, my Nike Total 90III Gold street football shoes were stolen.

OK fair enough, it’s just a shoe, why would I need to make a big fuss and report it to the police? Well, they came back again and this time, they got me slippers. I mean, what the fuck man, even my dirty worn slippers they want to take ah? WTF man?

Well, my dad has been reading from the papers that people from Johor are getting robbed at knife point (parangs to be exact) at their own home by construction workers from Indon! Well, the second trip they made to take my slippers would suggest the same fate might be waiting for us. Hence the report. And hopefully they will kerapkan their nightly rondas (increase patrol frequency) at our area. Because we’re been seeing ‘em Indons walking up and down our roads and glaring at our houses.

But…
That isn’t really why I wrote this entry.

What I intended to say was…
While at the station…I noticed something. They had a whiteboard and the whiteboard duster, cleaner, errr, whatever it’s called. On it, something was written. Because he took so painstakingly slow the type down my report, which by the way, was barely 50 words long. I even corrected him…

“So dik, macam mana?” the officer asks. Smiling as he turns his monitor to my direction. God knows how many times I wanted to volunteer and write it myself. Well, at least the part of their slogan which has mesra is correct. Cepat, hmmm not really.

“Errrr, Tuan…Spelling salah lah,” I said once the error was spotted.

Confused, he went, “Oh, mana?”

Frustrated, I used my index finger and rest it right smack on the misspelled word, “Errr…Tuan, sini,”

“Oh, salah ah?” he still doesn’t realize.

“Tuan, NIKE lah,” I said, “Bukan NEIKI.”

“Oh…”

And when I finally made the correction, which took yet another 10 minutes just to type out N-I-K-E, I spotted something else…

On the whiteboard duster thingy, they wrote…

P. PENING


Isn’t it P. PINANG? Now I’m damn Pening…

What If

Sometimes,
It makes me wonder. What if everything that happened many years back ago, didn’t happened the way it did. Would things have been different, ideal. Perfect.

What would have been if I had been more matured? Where would we be now if things hadn’t turned bitter? Would I be here, typing down this cheesy entry?

Every time I see, hear or think about her. I ask myself, what if…just, what if everything had been different.

I believe in chain-of-reactions, that whatever it is that you bump into in life, happens for a reason. For a greater, far more better cause than you give credit for. Or maybe that’s just me. I think too much.

There are days when it seemed so tight, congested. Empty. But yet, there are days when I just go, “Bring it on, whatever it is,” and shrug off the pressure. I don’t even know where I’m headed to. Maybe it’s a dream and if I scream it will burst at the seams.

Maybe it is.

To My Sis,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

Fountain of Youth

He says,
“Is that the fountain of youth?”

She says,
“Your head-lah, it’s just a leaking pipe.”

He says,
“But what if it is??”

She says,
“Then drink lah.”

He says,
“I’ll drink later lah.”

She says,
“Why?”

He says,
“I’ll wait till it’s a Good Hair Day.”

Flash!

OK, here's the scary bit. Before all of that happened, this happened first.

I was lying down on the sofa, half drowsy from the meds, resting. Dad walks around, trying to remember what was it that he was doing. Then it happened.

*FLASH!*

Dad stopped at his tracks, I turned into the general direction where I think I saw the flash.

"Hammik pao char?" dad asks. (What exploded?)

In my head I was already screaming to myself, "IT'S THE BLOODY 4AM PHONE CALL GHOST!!!!!!!!!! LET'S MOVE!!! (To Alila)" but I said to dad, "Errr, I have no idea."

Here's what happened, for those who have been to my house. My computer table there, just about where the hanging light is. Yeah, around there lah. In mid-air. There was this mini little white burst. Then nothing. We already went around inspecting every single electronic stuff. Lights, fan, comp, fridge, wall lights, you name it, we've checked it. All in tip-top working condition.

So...

What's going on in our house man?

Annoying Knocking

Remember yesterday’s freakish calls? The missed calls? The weird-ass voice mails? The knocking and all? And the muttering at the end of the voice mail…

Spooked, I was.

But now it’s just simply annoying. Not to mention the impending 7th month of the Chinese calendar. Yeah, the dreaded Ghost Month.

(I think Ju called first, but I was half asleep to even bother, if I move too much, there goes my sleep)

Yesterday night, whilst floating obliviously in the inter-dimension of possibilities due to medications…my sleep was yet again, abruptly shortened by that damn bloody number once more. But hey, hey, once bitten twice shy…

I had already turned my phone on silent…but the vibration was on, however. (argh!)

Anyways, this time it was 2am. Fuckin’ hell, I was fuming on my bed, thinking of 1001 ways to kill whoever (or entity) that was on the other line. This has crossed the line. Now it’s not creepy but just freakin’ bothersome. While I was on number 25 on my list of “1001 Ways to Kill Whoever (or Entity) That Was On The Other Line”, I slipped back into forty winks. To my benefit.

I can’t stop thanking the 2 panadols and cough-syrup I had taken earlier. God sent I tell ya.

But the morning came, of course, I was greeted by strong winds and the skies were pouring. Yay! Wash ‘em haze away. Stupid Indonesia and their forest fires.

And there it was, just like the night before, 8 sodding missed calls and 3 voice mails. But today was a bit different. A sms reply. It reads…

Hllo sori mak sy slah dial k..sori

WTF?! First, I’m not your mother and second, the sorry was a little overdue innit? Can’t you at least spell it proper?! Ya better be sorry. ‘Cos if you call me one more time tonight, I swear I’ll scream and fuck you up, proper.

I may be easy-going or a tight-ass at times. But never, never ever disrupt my sleep.

Because it’s just incredibly aggravating now.

012-523 9542
YA BETTER WATCH OUT!

(Oh, that’s the sodding number by the way; feel free to prank call or whatever.)

Distant Knocking

You wanna know what’s scary?
Scary is when your sleep (possibly a deep one) is abruptly shorten. At 4am to be precise by an anonymous phone call. The first call I choose to ignore, as retaliation for calling me during the wee hours. Then again. I opted for the “Silent” feature. But damn caller is persistent, and has an unrelenting urge to just keep calling and calling. Hello! It’s 4 fuckin’ A.M. in the morning man. And it’s some random number.

OK fine. Maybe someone’s in trouble.

“HELLO!!!” I answered. Pissed. Sleepy. Blur.

And here’s the bit where it’s just plain creepy. On the other line, all I hear is this knocking, as if someone is knocking from a distance on one of those aluminum wall panel thingy that you see on construction sites. And it keeps going. Almost at a constant rate, but it fluctuates, sometimes a bit slower, sometimes a bit faster. Then I can hear breathing. Not those dirty, sex types, but just plain heavy breathing.

By this point, I’ve grown a non-frizzy afro on my Chinese head and all the hairs on my body are standing. Goosebumps. My heart starts to race. I’m freakin' out!

The faint distant knocking can still be heard. Then, I heard a sniff…maybe a sob. It’s a girl. It’s definitely female.

Great. Adding more spook element.

Confused, scared and still partially pissed ‘cos its 4am in the morning. I hung up.

…what the hell is that all about? I ask myself…Then…

She calls, again…Arghhh!!!

WTF man?! What do you want from me?! WHAT?! I refuse to answer this time. It’s the same bloody number. And it’s calling non-stop.

I can’t shut off my phone, I need the alarm. I don’t have any other alarm. I got work tomorrow. Dammit. Even on silent, I can still hear the phone, vibrating. Fuckin’ hell.

Alas, I painstakingly browse thru the menu and deactivate the vibrate mode and maintained silent. Though I can still see the phone flashing, at least it won’t bother me. Finally, I can go back to bed. I’ll deal with this in the morning.

In total, I got right about 8 missed calls. 3 sms of voice messages. Prior to that, I’ve already deleted the earlier missed calls. I tried to decipher the voice messages. All of it was identical to the call. Distant knocking, faded breathing…

But one was different. At the end, I heard something. She muttered out something in Malay. It’s a Malay girl’s voice. I couldn’t quite hear her. It was heavy. Her slang is too heavy.

Fuck man. I’ll never figure this out.
It can’t be a ghost thingy right? Please tell me it’s not.

I’m still freaked out.
I think I’m gonna be sick.

Now, that's scary.

Wide Oh-so Wide

You know it’s not your day when…
You intercept a blatant back pass, you take it and controlled with style and ease (wow) and eh, wait…I did score that goal…

I mean…

You dribble from the left and charge towards goal. With no one else in sight, you only have the keeper to beat. You dribble pass him while he’s scrambling on the ground trying to catch the ball. You drift away and scuff a shot. Keeper saves it but the ball somehow lands on your feet again. Second bite. This time, keeper is already on the ground, helpless like a run-over puppy, gaping goal. And you take a shot. On your stronger side.

And it goes wide.

So wide, that the ball didn’t even go out of play. And it was only barely 15-20 inches away from the goal line. WTF?!

Brain Fooked

Upon seeing a huge puddle of water on this somewhat dodgy looking road,

He says,
“What should we do?”

She says,
“Just drive in lah, maybe the entrance is after this road.”

He says,
“But what if the water is hiding a HUGE-ASS POTHOLE?”

She says,
“Got meh? No lah, just go.”

He says,
“Ok then.”

She says,
“Wait! Wait!! Maybe we shouldn’t.”

*Screeech*

He says,
“Huh?”

She says,
“There might be a huge pothole.”


Yeah, ask Ju about my ability to brain-fuck people. Heh.

Drives Away

“Dad! An Iswara! Automatic and it’s in Penang!” I said to Dad when I saw the ad on the MotorTrader online website.

Dad was lying down on the sofa in the living room, watching a BBC documentary about how the world is dimming, it’s called Global Dimming and it’s causing our evaporation level to decline, “Ohhh, fantastic, what’s the number? Let me call him,”

I grabbed a piece of paper and quickly scribble the numbers down. Dad dials the number.

“Hello,” he greets the person on the other line.

“Yeah, my son saw your ad for your car on the internet…uh huh…uh huh…,” he nods to what the person on the other line had to say while I sit at my computer desk, oblivious.

“…OK, OK. Oh, you’re the 2nd owner, ya?”

“Oh, you bought it off your friend…I see, I see…it’s in tip-top condition too? OK. OK.”

Dad is still staring at the TV, though I suspect he isn’t focusing what’s actually on screen, staring into space to be precise, “What?! You want me to go Air Itam to view the car now?”

He takes a peek at the Kuku Bird wall clock we annoyingly still have stuck on our dining room wall and dad looks at me, miming the words, “You wanna go?”

I shook my head from left to right several times, rapidly and mimed back, “Nooo,” it’s already 9pm.

“Cannot lah, too late liao. Maybe tomorrow or the weekend,” dad suggests.

It seemed like a sweet deal. Finally. After months of searching high and low, I finally found an Automatic Iswara. At an awesome price too! Dad is still on the phone…

“So, lastly, whats the number plate?”

“Uh huh, uh huh…nice nice…P what ah?”

“What? A?? ABU??”

“Errr…right…Ciao.”

*Hangs up*

Dad smiles at me, “Haihhh, talk until so long…in the end, it’s a bloody Perak plate.”

Dammit, the search goes on.

Hanging Around

What do you get when you have a graphic designer who recently discovered Spider-man 3's teaser trailer and a matcha who left a message on his chatterbox, saying:

"Been around mountains, and hills, and valleys, and walls! hahahah! getting my arse kicked by a stupid wall!"

So I decided to go back to basics with Photoshop.



Spider-Matcha! "Ahh wooooooo!!" - Spider-Matcha in awe after sighting a gorgeous babe on the sidewalk. Of course, since he's jobless now, he can't afford a mask big enough for his afro, yet. And he thought Brazil would win the World Cup. I bet he regrets having his costume made in yellow.

Heh heh, Vig, I had to do it. Really, I had to :)
Who's next?

ANNOUNCEMENT!

Yes, you heard me, it’s a first ever. An announcement that is. :)

Anyway, yesterday night, we discussed, we planned and we concluded that everyone please, please make the extra effort to burn at least a single disc with all the wedding day pictures in it. And pass it to one of us. The Art Team people, heh.

So…
Xen Wei, Eugene, Roby, Vig (or Naomi) and Ian. Get to work! :P

And look for me, Annie or Ju. ‘Coz I’m gonna compile everything and cramp it into one CD. Everything, from the bachelor party to the night before to the morning session and of course, the night it self. And yes, everyone will get a copy.

Tolong ye? So kita sama-sama maju :)

Closure, Moving On

I have not been blogging too often lately. Maybe its fatigue from the hectic weeks that has passed, maybe I’m just paranoid that too many people I know are reading this. Or maybe I just think too much. But to hell with it, I’m gonna march on.

Just for future reference, all entries are creatively re imagined and certain events are compressed.

I guess I’ve come to an end to this chapter of my life. And things are closing in a rather spectacular way, not to mention for all the wrong reasons, based on a certain episode that’s raging on. I hope it’ll be resolve soon, if not resolved yet.

I’m moving on with my life. Marching on to a new chapter, some people have already done that, now, I’m jumping on that bandwagon as well.

But before I do, I just need to say a few things:

You, can you stop being so childish? And stop making it YOUR problem. Because, really, it wasn’t really a big deal till you made it yours. You are not in secondary school anymore, you’re not battling puberty with all the raging hormones and flood of heighten emotions. You’re familiar with this phrase, but I’m wondering why you didn’t adopt it, “Walk away.” Because if you had, all this would have been avoided. And if you suddenly have a sudden urge to call me and screw me on the phone over this entry, it’ll just prove my point. I would like to be proven wrong. Just come to terms with it. You know I did a year ago. Can you reciprocate?

The rest of you, leave her alone already. Remember, it’s not only her that’s affected. He will be as well. And if you still consider yourself as friends, let it slide off, we get the point. Thru thick and thin remember? But this doesn’t involve eating wasabi-laden Japanese food or drinking weird stuff or wearing dresses. You know what I mean.

It’s between the three of you and him. Not her.

We’re all grown ups now.

See ya’ll in the new chapter :)
(Under-18 not allowed to enter)

The Morning Before The Wedding

6am in the morning. After spending 10 hours making the video presentation.

“Dude, Brazil lost man,” Vig sighs, “But I don’t feel a thing.”

“Probably not until tomorrow morning man,” I replied, “Fuck, it’s 6am already?! Dude, we gotta wake up in like an hour’s time!”

At this point, even pandas would envy us. And ghosts would run away if they saw us. Vig’s afro was drooping every minute he’s deprived of sleep. While my hair would just fluffed up.

“Ya still gonna sleep?” I ask.

“Ah Yoong lah, if I had known, I wouldn’t have made plans to go breakfast at 7”

“Well, right now, I’m damn kiasu, 1 hour’s sleep also I take!” I said as I put my comp into sleep and pack my stuff, “DUDE WAKE UP!”

The Chicken Head has been comfortably snoozing away while we were slaving over this video.

“What what?” he asks, confused, blur.

“Let’s go man, damn sleepy liao, can pengsan,” says I.

An hour later, despite being severely deprived of sleep. Everyone showed up, all smiles.


Of course, they could hear us honking from a mile away. They know we're here. They barricaded the doors. And demanded we pay them RM888.88. Walau eh! Damn expensive lah!

"Walau eh! Discount lah, it's the mid-year sale, easily can discount 70%" Yoong pleads.

"We ain't giving you nothing. Where's the bride?! Lemme see her!"

In the end, the agreement was RM188.88. Talk about a massive discount! But of course, that's just the beginning. The girls are just getting back their money spent on the stuff their gonna make us do. Argh!

I still don't know why they made us wear that. But hey, we're the TESCO brothers, going around robbing TESCOs.

They made Vig and Yoong into girls! Argh, now they're one of them.










At last, some real food. The gang. All done before 11am! If not ah, pantang!

Bah! Damn tired. I'll post up the wedding nite tomorrow lah. Enjoy this first!

Laters.