Monthly Archives: April 2004

Break The Nines

I snapped the niner, will my sextet last?
This experimenter wound it down too fast
I changed my chord but resolved no tension
For time won’t afford me calculation
The law of scale says the tone I’m using
Is out of place and sounds disagreeing
Alas turning back makes for bald tires
I can’t hit the sack till the spark fires

Guitar Geek High

I am on a guitar geek high.

I took home Anis’s Kapok-style guitar (classical shape with steel strings) and modified it. Since the strings had little rings for their ball ends, I tried putting my old thick E string through them in a flash of inspiration. A tremolo on a classical guitar bridge! I wound it through a few times. After all that, I played a chord and tugged on that little loop I made (around 12 centimeters in diameter) and it raised in pitch. A little. (Borrow someone’s digicam I will!) Ideally, I’d have two bars clamping on the rings, or at least one steel bar going through it. It would then pull all six strings, raising their pitch.

Illustration 1: (Pardon the crude Photoshopping.)
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You’re Not So Boring

The Internet is evolving to help the average user not seem like a boring person. What do I mean?

Remember how you’d chat on instant messengers, say MSN Messenger, until you’d have run out of things to say other than Hi or Bye? Say bye to those moments for good with online games! No, not evil Ragnarok-type-online-games; I mean games like MSN Solitaire Showdown! When you run out of a topic, it’s the perfect time to call out this side distraction. Ironically, the people who I find myself playing this with are conversation-worthy like Nora and Scherzquin (though it’s obvious we’re doing it for competitive score-keeping.)

Next up: Friendster Quizzes. They’ve made it simpler. Earlier, it was “Describe your ideal romantic date.” Now it’s “Coke or Pepsi?” (I choose 7-Up Ice now by the way.)

Oh and get this: Lipton Iced Tea or Nestea? Interesting. Soon companies shall cash in on this as survey research.

I get so many of these in my bulletin board that I wonder who bothers reading all of them. Heck, I haven’t even joined any Friendster clone because there’s probably going to be more where that came from!

Dammit if you have so much time, write me a testimonial.

And now, I’m seeing forum spammers I know (who usually have nothing to say but “LOL“) getting blogs. Oh joy, let’s all read about how they brushed their teeth this morning.

Oh hell I’m a hypocrite and I just did my first ever quiz. In two parts. Go read it, because I spent so much time cracking wit over it, and then optimizing it to fit in 4000 characters (but it still couldn’t fit despite being 3900 characters due to Friendster bugs) so I broke it into two. (Nope I won’t post it here, you’d have to be my friend to read it!)

Oh hell I’m going to make a blog system for Xfresh. I never announce works in progress until there is any work done on it, so yeah. More avenues for bloggers of average compositional ability. Well, at least it’s free!

P.S. Anybody noticed that layer seven of that quiz I took is missing? I can’t find any bulletin board post with layer seven…

Sharing Genes And Jeans

Muchly delayed this be, I post this anyway.

Ages ago, my mom brought my sister and I to Amcorp Mall, where we (my sister and I) both got our first pair of jeans. She picked the more faded of the two. At home, she changed her mind, and took the dark pair instead. Ah well, I wasn’t picky.

Many moons later, I came home, and my mom declared such:

Your sister is taking your jeans to cut at the knees.

It wasn’t about her asking permission. It was a matter-of-fact statement.

I got such a scare recently, after buying two pairs of jeans! They were missing from the place where I’d expect clothes to be. Now this was scary, since I actually paid for these rather handsomely. (In contrast to my wardrobe of exclusively free T-shirts, caps and shoes all legally procured.)

Dammit sis, just because we share genes it doesn’t mean we have to share jeans. (I don’t refer to her as sis, but hey let’s all play the anonymizing game.)

Nope, she did not kidnap them. They had been misplaced in a blue bag, used for ferrying clothes from the two houses that we lived in. It was in a (laundry) limbo all this while!

Yes this post is hanging.

Hang No More

I finally figured out what was wrong with my computer that caused it many rude restarts (to be noticed by those who see me online). One wonky stick of 512 Megabyte 400 Megahertz Kingston Value DDR RAM. So much for dual-channel 1 Gigabyte dreams, then! The computer no longer crashed at certain Macromedia Flash 7 objects, accessing random folders on the hard disk, or any 3D game at random intervals.

Let’s see what else. Yes, I got in a Kancil for the first time, and got acquainted with the intricacies of the clutch pedal. I wonder how my dad drove around in his old rustmobile with a clutch that apparently didn’t work. I then headed over to KLCC for a free posture analysis thingy. Aye, it is true; I have a shoulder level alignment problem. I then walked to Bintang Walk, clocking under 15 minutes, to see the drool-worthy missing-pickup Line 6 Variax 500. (Of course, the 700 model was also there, but it wasn’t close enough in price to an American Fender Stratocaster.) Oh, and I’m also broke and waiting for the money to come out of the wall to be passed into the coffers of my college.

Roll Call

Alrightey mates, I’ve had some updating to do in my links in my About Me! page. Yes, this is the only time you barnacles shall get front page grande. Here, in no particular order, are updated or added links: Chibimelody, Redphayze, Joeybear, Hyrza, Leech, EC, and LIONEL.blogs.

I went for the Tempered Mental single launch (yes a single with um, 7 tracks). It was at The Jazz Bar, notably so as Syefri pointed out a bass amp bigger than the guitar amps. Flatline was one of the opening bands, and even with their 3 guitars, the bassist still overpowered them, leaving only a little wah through.

Their show rocked, with new stuff we had yet to hear. I shall spare you here and squeeze creative juices on the article.

Anyhoo, the taxi driver I hailed had the windows partly down. Halfway on the journey some conversation like this happened (in Malay though):

He: Do you want to smoke?
Me: No thanks.
He: Why? Quitted or you just never smoked before?
Me: Never smoked before (hesitating to translate…) I’m allergic to the smoke. My uncle used to fog the hall even though his room door was closed. I got this weird coating in my tongue.
He: Ah okay.

That would’ve been a blatant lie of course, since I did just step out of The Jazz Bar in O*range. 😛 Even after a bath and change of clothes the smell still lingered!

I could see the cabbie flinching as a cigarette-deprived addict. Nyahaha. He was easing his throat, with symptoms of a cold. He was rubbing his nose and reaching into his pocket.

I could’ve just told him it was fine with me, but I wanted to see how bad it could get. 🙂

My personal take on smokers? People who smoke are really one of us, but I don’t equate smoking with coolness. They’re not any evil-er than us. Well you can stand in one corner puffing away, but flinching from cigarette withdrawal is not cool. Haha.

Then there’s that thing about it relieving stress. Sure it works, but there are other stress-relievers that don’t give you bloody coughing in the morning. Computer games. Onanism. Making noise on a guitar/drumset/wall/table. Sure, these activities merely distract you from the worries, and you’d still go, “how now?” afterwards, but it’s not like cigarettes help you totally forget either. That, my friends, requires more potent mind-state-inducting chemicals. 😉

Oh, and I finally fixed the filler comments!

Scary Toilet Man and some updates

Today, I shall write about the scary toilet man, or scary janitor for you American-educated people.

He is the man who hovers about, standing in a corner of the ASTRO toilet, waiting for you to be done before he swarms in and sprays your cubicle with disinfectant. He stares at you, waiting for you to vacate the urinal.

I met one such Scary Toilet Man at Hard Rock Cafe. He was standing there, playing with the powder and the perfume. When I was done, he handed me two pieces of hand wipes. I thanked him.

As I came out, it was obvious that the birthday boy made full use of the free hair gel. I too, went. I fumbled with the perfume since I was not used to artificial smell application. I couldn’t stop laughing to myself as he stood behind!

Back to the daily commentary.

Good Friday – Why did everybody make a fuss about it like it was a Day Of Obligation? Being a born Catholic I knew and wondered why people were leaving the office early. Heck, I went early too. 😛 I met up with a distraught Nabila who had been bumming around KLCC because the Australian Embassy was closed for Good Friday. Gee mate, they got our Malaysia-should-take-holiday-whenever-possible disease!

And so we dined at California Pizza Kitchen, overhearing these Singaporeans who said they wanted to party. Preferably chemically-induced. LOL. So we said to them, warp speed to Warp mate!

Saturday – The whole day was spent with colleagues going fragging in Counter-Strike: Condition Zero and then Battlefield 1942’s various mods. We ate at Burger King for dinner and bumped into Dragon Red (minus Landslyde) who were there for a audition or something.

Sunday – I arrived at my driving school at 9 and waited for an hour, sleeping with the class. The lecturer was sick. A replacement arrived at 10, giving a half-hour lecture and then taking a half-hour break before finishing at noon. Yep, if you did the math right, it would have been one and a half hours. The other 3 hours, or the fun-in-the-sun maintenance class, would be only for students not from this school. Happy I was for the discount! To add to that, I skipped the obligatory Easter church-going day!

I got home to a combined multitude of technical support. Joanne wanted to know if she should get the same hard disk I got (the Western Digital 80GB JB model, that I would not recommend because of instability…) Allison had trouble with her second-hand ADSL modem. uneeq‘s friend had trouble with her laptop. I can’t remember who else. Add sound editing for my sister to the list.

For once I have to run for the bus and really end the blog post like this so taaa!


It was a Wednesday morning, and I was drinking Teh Tarik laced with cinnamon at Maju Curry House, near PJ A&W Drive In, Taman Jaya. (Yes, they put cinnamon whether you ask for it or not.) I ran to the Taman Jaya LRT to take the LRT to Asia Jaya, but I realized my train was on the other side!

Dashed I did, to Asia Jaya. Lactic acid attacked my legs. I reached SDC, my driving school, and waited there for an hour. I let the others be sent to JPJ, where they would take their theory exam. The van came and drove to JPJ, that was smack opposite Maju Curry House. 🙁

Since I was late I had to take a number and wait one-and-a-half hours. When I got in, I took a practice session in the waiting room. I then went in and sat for the real thing, in front of a computer. I clicked A for the first answer (see, it pays to read my blog!) and it didn’t move. I clicked again. I added a few more clicks on A for safety.

It suddenly responded, and apparently my first 15 questions were answered A! I had to click on the previous questions to answer them correctly. Apparently, each computer was connected to the main server and whenever someone was done, and the results were being printed (obviously through the computer-hogging parallel port), my computer lagged. Presumably everybody lagged too. At least the timer didn’t move when it lagged. I could hear a lady coming in and telling another test-taker, “Don’t double-click! You will answer two at the same time!

After probably 15 minutes (including 5 minutes lag) I was done. I got 46 over 50, where the passing mark was 42. The lady at the printer told me to take the printout to my driving school so I could register for the maintenance class. And so, I took the LRT back to Asia Jaya. The lady at the school took it and said to come on Sunday morning. I wish I photocopied it so I could gloat and show it to my mom or something. 🙁

And now, for the rest of the irrelevant day that I choose to share with you!

I went to Bintang Walk to buy a RM6 guitar strap. The bottom peg was real hard to fit in. It was sweet though; I could live my dreams of being a standing rock star/busker now. I also found a Santa Cruz 12-string guitar for RM450! Now I know where the Central Market buskers got their 12-strings from…

I also just bought a RM15 Melody DVD-RW disc from this shop with the knowledgeable old man. The same shop, the only one in Low Yat Plaza that sold DVD-RAM discs (albeit in cartridges). As I walked on to this other shop that I’d never bought anything from, I saw this same hot chick I always saw there. Damn. For once, she asked me what I was looking for. (You, babe?) I told her I was looking for a DVD-RW disc, and she pointed to the same thing, at RM10! Argh. I wish I waited. (RM10 is below the cost price, according to a collegemate who sells CD/DVD media.)

Pillars Of Love

Have you ever leaned against a pillar? We all take these strong, concrete-reinforced slabs for granted.

Pillars need a hug, too.

Imagine how painful it would be to not have any arms to hug people with! If it had a mouth, it would scream “hug me!!!” but alas, it is mute, and even sadder, armless.

And if you’re thinking only living things need your love and affection, well, dead people are still in the hearts of people – look at Elvis Presley.

Plus, depending on the pillar size, it may or may not be an easy hug. You know it won’t run away from you. You know you won’t crumple its bones, especially if you’re a big guy. It doesn’t fuss about how you hug it; it doesn’t try to unhook your bra straps.

Let us all take a moment to appreciate the pillars that hold up our buildings. The next time you see a pillar, give them a big, warm hug!

Education For The Old

I was to meet Hannna at PWTC, for some skater exhibition thingy, to pass her something. She was already inside, and to enter, one had to fork out money, so she came out. It was then that she told me the lickable lovable Jamie (or also known as theZEBRA) was inside! Argh, I would’ve paid to pet the zebra. She came, and she didn’t have to lick me to get me wet. I was already soaked in the heavy rain on the way in. She got us two passes to get in, and we bummed around.

It was time to go to Bangsar LRT to collect money (and meet my van-driving-fetching-momma) but alas! Upon reaching the Masjid Jamek PUTRA LRT station, the gates were half-closed. Technical difficulties, they said. Perhaps it was the tendency of clouds to succumb to gravity again and again this week.

Ah well. I headed back to PWTC, again sneaking in with a pass. Jamie drew a zebra on the back of my left paw. (Knowing the confusion between arm and hand, I chose the word paw instead.) Hannna had one, too. We sniffed the permanent marker fumes in joy. Jamie taught one of the few tricks she knew.

Of course, this was no skateboarding exhibition. This was a kids’ educational exhibition.

What’s depressing? When you’re in secondary school, your educational exhibition consists of walking around, with people projecting your futures for you, selling you papers. What are you going to be? A doctor? Lawyer? What pre-university program are you going to take? Will you go overseas or do a twinning program?

Argh all that gibberish.

When you’re in primary school, your educational exhibition is fun! You get to sit down on colorful stools and play with Lego bricks or whatever’s the constructional craze. You get to solve puzzles. Run about the playground! People don’t sell you stuff; instead, they sell your parents encyclopedias and imitation laptops.

(I still didn’t know how a skatepark got a space at the back of the exhibition.)

Cut to Saturday morning!

I was invited to a surprise birthday party on that night itself, when I was in Midvalley. Complications arose soon enough! The inviter was a friend of the girlfriend of the birthday boy. She (the inviter) had two seats. I was one of them. I asked her if I could bring Shaz, since after all, I figured he’d know the birthday boy better. Alas, she wasn’t sure if he could be accomodated into the plan.

So I called Shaz, asking what his plans were. He didn’t get to narrate till his dinnertime before he had to go and said he’d call me back.

I went shopping for his present, with a lengthy discussion over the phone with miss invitee. I tried a few shirts (he was around my size) but none were fitting the tight criteria.

I called Shaz again. Alas! He had cancelled his dinner plans with his buddies to come and have dinner with me at Midvalley!

I called miss invitee, relating my story. “I know the birthday dude through Shaz, so fit him in pleeease