Monthly Archives: August 2005

The Domino Effect

Eating at Domino’s seems to be literally a Domino effect. You hit a domino, and another domino falls. So on and so forth until every domino falls, making pretty colored patterns and raking in money for the (not so) fast pizza chain.

Sometime ago, I was bumming around Subang Parade, and I saw Nando’s and was reminded of the last time I had dinner there with Leech. Feeling lucky (I bumped into quite a few people on the same day they contacted me) I called her and whatdyaknow? She was there too.

We went to Domino’s because she had these discount coupons, and we tried the double decker crust pizza. We were also conned by the fine print (details on her blog). I explained the problem to the manager-like person. When the bill came, they gave me those same three discount coupons! We left, and the waitress smiled and thanked me. Leech grumbled, “no need to smile at me ah…

This wasn’t the first time people in the service industry smile or say goodbye to me, totally ignoring and (thus) incensing whoever I’m leaving the joint with.

I kept the coupons till one fateful day I was in Subang Parade again, and I had a personal pizza this time, using the coupon.

Anyway. I wonder if people only eat at Domino’s because they have coupons. I wonder if people go:

Hey! So where do you wanna eat?
I don’t know… where do you wanna go?
Hmmm. Domino’s looks good. Not as thick crusted as Pizza Hut.
Hmmm yeah. But do you have a discount coupon?
Argh. Nope. Ah well, let’s just go when we do have one.

Domino’s has never successfully delivered pizza to my office on time. They screw up office extensions! Everytime we collect the pizza, we get a coupon/card so that we get the Domino effect. Sucky service yes, but a brilliant marketing strategy. They know what us cheapskate Malaysians want.

This is my personality now, snarky.

I received a forwarded Powerpoint file about a Tibetan Personality Test. It was quite annoying (oh look I know how to do Powerpoint transitions! The more people this is forwarded to, the more time is wasted collectively!)

And so, I Googled the contents and paste it here so hopefully if you get the daily digest, you won’t get annoyed by the animations.

(1) Put the following 5 animals in the order of your preference:
Cow, Tiger, Sheep, Horse, Pig

(2) Write one word that describes each one of the following:
Dog, Cat, Rat, Coffee, Sea

(3) Think of someone, who also knows you and is important to you, which you can relate them to the following colors. Do not repeat your answer twice. Name just one person for each color:
Yellow, Orange, Red, White, Green.

(4) Finally, write down your favorite number, and your favorite day of the week.

(Okay so then there are more “suspense-building” screens here. OH BOY!)

Your priorities in life are
career (cow)
pride (tiger)
love (sheep)
family (horse)
money (pig)

2) Your description of dog implies your own personality
Your description of cat implies the personality of your partner
Your description of rat implies the personality of your enemies
Your description of coffee is how you interpret sex
Your description of the sea implies your own life

3) Yellow: Someone you will never forget
Orange: Someone you consider your true friend
Red: Someone that you really love
White: Your twin soul
Green: Someone that you will remember for the rest of your life

4) You have to send this message to as many persons as your favorite number and your wish will come true on the day that you recorded

This is true, even if you are not superstitious.
0-4 persons: Your life will improve slightly
5-9 persons: Your life will improve to your liking
9-14 persons: You will have at least 5 surprises in the next three weeks
15 or more persons: Your life will improve drastically and all that you wish will come true

Now this is funny because in quizzes like these, I always pick a horse, not because it represents family, but because it is practical, can be rode, does not stink, does not run off, can intimidate smaller animals, and in the worst case scenario, could even be eaten. Okay a cow comes second in terms of practicality, plus you can milk it, though it won’t be fast.

Believe it or not, I actually have Power Ranger friends. Namely, friends who I associate with those colors because they’re always wearing those colors!

P.S. This is not a jab at anyone who forwards such files; I just thought that the one particular bugger who had time to convert all the text into a Powerpoint file should be shot. If he/she really wanted to show his/her technical prowess he/she could make an online quiz where it would calculate the results for you. He/she could then get side income from ads.

I have definitely more than 15 blog readers. I wish for world peace!

Weirdo Baggins

Four years ago, I was a thirsty camel. I used to lug around a 1.5 liter water bottle wherever I went, and so, I tore a few bags in the process. There was free water everywhere; a drinking water fountain at college, and a pantry at the office.

And so, when I was at a supermarket in Mines Wonderland with family, I saw a wonderful innovation. A bag where the bottom seams were such that the bottom piece was a U shape instead of a cardboard piece lining the bottom. Genius! Plus it came with many zipped pockets (instead of one). It screamed “PRACTICAL!

Before that, having one pocket meant I’d dig out my wallet, keys, tag, and MP3 player from that one pocket, put those in my trousers, and put the pens, batteries (and other quick-access items) back in that same pocket.

Now, with two or more pockets, I could take out the items I’d want for my trousers without having to put things back. You dig?

I bet girls don’t go into detail how they transfer their necessities from one bag to another to complement their outfit. Organizational science.

So there I was, content with my new bag, and its immense organizational power, gallivanting around college with my 1.5 liter water bottle. YEAH! No more bottles escaping my bag, making an embarrassing watery thump sound!

After a week of classmates and colleagues asking if I had gone back to school, I finally realized the truth.

I was wearing a primary school schoolbag.

Now if that warrants anybody judging me to be a weirdo, screw you well at least you know my justification. I see the practicality in something first, impractical fashion… later.

Right after I lost my first mobile phone, I became excessively paranoid of putting it in my trousers pocket. So I got a belt clip for my next phone. People said it was uncle-like, but did I care, when everyone else was losing their Nokia 3310 phones?

In case you’re wondering, I gave my schoolbag to my younger brother after a week, and I used a lanyard (sometimes tied to a belt strap) for the next phone.

Ferrous Station

Anger! Damnation. Self-preservation.
Fear of tiny spaces.
Sweat glands break loose.
Take off your shirt. Dammit.
The only barriers are people like you. Coming in like waves.

PUSH SHOVE GRAB PULL KICK PUNCH JUMP. Super combo move of the century.

Karma Police

I was walking in SS2 with a friend when a police car stopped, and two policemen got out.

Apa you bawa?” (What are you carrying?)

I opened my plastic bag and showed them the Transformers I had just bought.

Tunjuk IC.” (Show us your ICs.)

We took out our identity cards.

Korang dari kampung mana?” (Where are you guys from?)

We’re from Petaling Jaya, around here.

Oh, nama you (masukkan nama Melayu di sini) ya? You tak nampak Melayu.” (Oh, your name is (insert Malay name here). You don’t look Malay.)

My friend explained that his mom was Japanese. The rest of the questions were for me:

Apa dalam poket ini?” (What’s in this pocket?)

I took out my rechargeable batteries.

Habis poket itu?” (How about this other pocket?)

I told them that it was my digital camera.

Korang nak pergi mana?” (Where are you guys going?)

We told them that we were walking to a friend’s house.

You ada mabuk kah?” (Have you guys consumed alcoholic beverages?)

We told them that we did not, and they said “okay…” and let us off.

I won’t deny that the hair I did not cut for 10 months, my lack of sleep, and my natural grunge cargo pants (it had holes and tears, but in proper places) would make me look like the biggest cocaine bust of the century.

Goodbye Yellow Sky

Selamat tinggal Bungaku
Ku doakan kau bahagia
Jumpa kita di neraka

So wrote a muse in a tunnel in Midvalley Megamall. A wise, profound, and yet disturbing poem. Translated loosely, it says:

Goodbye, my flower
I wish on you happiness
Meet us up in hell

Yes, I even turned it into haiku format. 😀 At first glance, it sounds like a girl did him wrong. (Would a girl call a guy her flower, and if so, would she write it on a white wall with a ballpoint pen?) He however still thinks fondly of her, and wishes her the best with her new love. The twist is in “meet us“; us is probably him and whoever he fooled around with.

Oh and I finally watched The Island. Why did he have to die? He wasn’t a typical evil. But then agnates die so I guess it was fair in a way. Yes I hope I’m not spoiling it for you. I may just have faith in Michael Bay to direct the new Transformers live action movie.

Oh check out what the haze brought in:

The Hungry Ghost Festival, also one of the freakiest full moons ever. This picture, and the next, were color-adjusted.

Earlier that day, this was what I saw walking out of ASTRO…

All pictures were merely sharpened and resized; no color adjustment was done except on the third and fourth picture.

Kancho Tell


I was reading the I am a Japanese School Teacher editorials and reading about how he was subject to Kancho, a disturbing Japanese schoolkid pasttime where anime-infested kids would simulate Naruto and try to stick their fingers up other guys’ butts (and grab crotches). There I was, thinking how sick it was, when I realized something.

Back when we were 13, we used to grab crotches. (I don’t know if this practice still continues 8 years later…)

It was in Form 1 and Form 2 (ages 13 and 14) that we’d have this pasttime. For some reason, when school ended, we’d all run down this slope to exit the school premises. Yes, run. On the way, we’d try to grab each other’s balls.

We didn’t grab each other’s balls while standing still, during recess, during class, or any other period. We only grabbed balls when running down the slope. It was the thrill of the chase. It wasn’t a punishable offense!

We didn’t find pleasure in feeling the balls, nor did we linger.

We’d plan beforehand in class to grab this other guy’s balls. Knowing his class would end a bit later, we’d stake out somewhere at the beginning of the slope. He’d be strolling casually, unaware, when boom! Four guys would run out, and he’d run like a chicken. Now he wasn’t shouting in fear. It was fun. The way he went “oyyy! AAA my balls!” while laughing red-facedly meant that he would not report us.

One particular Chinese guy had the best reaction. He’d retort with, “haaa, tomorrow you watch ouuut, I’ll grab your balllrrrllls.” (extra roll of the tongue on the pronunciation of balls.) Although he wasn’t fat, he’d go, “don’t touch my breaaasts” almost gay-ly. Like Rob Schneider in Hot Chick.

The best times were when we double-faced bastards catch up with one guy, just to have him shout, “eh, grab his balls instead lah!” We then turned on our leader. His “OH SHIIIT!“, the expression that followed (since he was nerdy) and running up the slope was super comical. Eventually, he became a popular target.

And no, we never grabbed balls of guys we didn’t know.

Quiet unassuming guys in our gang got it too. Sometimes, after getting grabbed, the guy would retaliate by lashing out to a random attacker. I didn’t get it quite as much, maybe because I knew how to curl, or because I successfully became a right hand man’s right hand man.

It was our way of building camaderie.

Girls had similiar games, like smacking each other’s chests.

There was also bonggol, also known as ragging, tiang, lauk, tempek, one-two, three-four, corner, and other names. It would usually be the victim’s birthday, and we’d crowd around him, singing happy birthday, then throwing flour and eggs at him. The female version involved water. Of course, the flour and eggs were reserved for especially popular people, or people whose birthdays were at the end of the school year. For everyday bonggols, a group of friends would grab the guy, and they’d kick and punch the guy’s back. It might not even have to be the guy’s birthday. We may even skip the birthday song and go straight to the war cry of “BONGGOL!!!

Again, this was not punishable, because after all that we’d all be smiling and laughing, victim included. We’d never bonggol anybody we didn’t know. To start a bonggol session, he’d have to be a friend; however, if you knew the guy’s name, that would be enough to allow you to legitimately join in the fun.

The best memory I had of this was when my unpopular prefect friend (he wasn’t hated, he was just famous for having a rigid straight posture) was bonggol-ed on his birthday. His class was across the school football field, and I could hear two classes being dismissed, then bonggolling him. Yeah, we heard his birthday song, and wanted in on the fun. So being the good sport that he was, he stood at the intersection, cleaning his glasses, where the rest of us whose class ended later could meet up with him and greet him.

Apparently, my sister was popular enough to have to bring clothes to change on the day before, her birthday, and the day after her birthday. The canteen must’ve sold loads of mineral water bottles those three days.

Bumping Does Not Hurt

YAY Ah-Ha is back on 8TV at 10:30pm, Sundays, as Ah-Ha 2! Catch more educated Malaysian parody by Afdlin Shauki and Harith Iskandar! No, none of that Senario slapstick.

chez1978 has more masked messages to write on our haze masks:

  • What the heck, it was free anyway.
  • I am not disfigured.
  • Darth Vader lives on!
  • If you are reading this, stop staring please.
  • Remove only to plant wet noisy kisses.
  • Got hazed?
  • End your plumbing nightmares. Call Ah Kau at XXX-XXXXXXX now and get a 20% discount. (Remember to make Ah Kau pay for the mobile advertising)

Anyway, this week was an interesting one full of me bumping into people (and no it did not hurt, Cheneille.)

On Friday, an ex-schoolmate called for technical support. I solved his problem, then he asked when I was free. Next week perhaps?

I then headed to the Mont Kiara Jazz Fest to catch Cosmic Funk Express with my colleague, and guess what? My ex-schoolmate came and joined us. He was my colleague’s churchmate. I haev major respect for him, as Paul and him are the only people around my age who paid for their own cars completely without the help of parents (okay there’s the help of a car loan…) Screw you kids who proudly insist “oh this is my car” but forget who paid downpayment.

The next day I was online at the office, and an ex-colleague bugged me about some technical stuff. I then headed to Sunway Pyramid out of boredom, following colleagues to cover an event. Across the crowd, I spotted that ex-colleague! What excellent flow. We met up for some catching up, and she dropped me off at Subang Parade.

I called the affable Nabila but alas! She was in Bangsar. I was thinking of a hearty Nando’s lunch and dinner (it was 6:30pm already!) when I remembered who I last had dinner at Nando’s Subang Parade withLeech! I called, and found out she was in Subang Parade as well! We then had double-cheesy pizza; interestingly, the extra cheese was in the crust instead of on top, so it wouldn’t slide about, moving the topping with it.

Hannna then called just as we paid the bill, just like the last time, and Leech scuttled off like a crab again.

Yes more pictures will come. Soon.

Masked Messages

Wearing a haze mask around town is fun, especially on the LRT. People stare at you, and you stare back at them. You feel a sense of unity with the other masked passengers.

I wouldn’t mind writing “what are you staring at?” on my mask, but that wouldn’t be catchy enough for the sesquipedalian Albert. So I was sitting around, thinking of eye-catching slogans for masks:

  • I can take off this mask. Women in Saudi Arabia can’t. (Don’t wear this on the monorail!)
  • Visit my blog at
  • Made in Indonesia
  • Wanna share my air?
  • I’m trying to quit smoking
  • You and I are not breathing the same air
  • The end of the world is here. I don’t wanna die a virgin!
  • To make sure it doesn’t come off, I use superglue. It smells nice too.
  • Smile if you’re a wanker 🙂 (yes, this was stolen from a Mambo T-shirt)

Medical Coverage

ASTRO rocks. They take care of their employees. I got one of these for free:

Now I can stand behind express buses and go, “you can’t hurt me!” Now I can go to the smoking section of ASTRO and hang out with the cool people.