Far Knee

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An addition to Saturday 5th March’s blog:

I was bumming around alone most of Saturday, walking aimlessly in Bintang Walk. Fate it was that I didn’t hop on the bus that would take me home; instead, I bought guitar strings and stared at my shredding shredder friend/Bentley guitar salesman. I then went to Lot 10 where I saw a new OSIM massage chair complete with lower arm massage, like it was a blood pressure machine or something!

One 15-minute round of freeloading wasn’t enough, so I hit the button for another. Thank goodness I took such a leisurely pace, that my German-Indian drinking machine friend called me up, offering a free ticket for The Actorlympics!

(Her name has been withheld lest you know her and think you deserve the ticket more than I do.)

I didn’t get to have dinner with my friend as intended, so I gobbled a McValue Meal quick, and as I walked towards The Actor’s Studio I bumped into DJCS… who had two free tickets.

It was good. Like Whose Line Is It Anyway?, but by the Instant Cafe Theatre. Afdlin Shauki was bad at accents though, and his George Bush impersonation didn’t sound Texan nor stupid, but he had classic Ah-Ha moments. Gavin, I felt, wasn’t as quick with his wit, but when he was, it shone and reminded me why I’d watch Sketches regularly. The best bits had to be the ambiguously homosexual tendencies of the troupe and their sense of humor about it. Yes some gay dudes can be darned quick-witted.

Religion Realism

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My preferred definition of Altruism: Instinctive cooperative behavior that is detrimental to the individual but contributes to the survival of the species.

I think I can safely say that altruism is my religion. God, or the natural goodness, exists in everybody, and it wouldn’t hurt to be excellent to each other. It’s like karma in a way. What’s good… no wait, what’s bad goes around. Bad things tend to snowball.

What about life and death? I’ve had this theory since I was 13. There is no hell or heaven. Life is a form of energy (closest in form to chemical energy), and as energy cannot be created or destroyed, when we die we are merely reborn in the nearest lifeform, like the bacteria feeding on our dead body. When that bacteria dies, you may be reborn as another bacteria. If you’re lucky, you’ll cross over to being a fly. How do you become human again? Die as your parents’ pubic lice.

Now given that the world’s population is increasing, where is this extra energy coming from? The trees and animals that we make extinct from expanding our backyards. Don’t forget the millions of microorganisms in a cubic centimeter. I haven’t even taken into consideration that energy can change from one form to another.

I Speak English

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I propose that British English, or The Queen’s English as the British would call it, or English (UK) as Microsoft would call it, be called, simply, British.

No, not Bree-teesh, Brit-eesh.

Why not the other way around? If you are a stranger in a strange land and you ask, “Do you speak American?” you might just get massively destroyed.

The Art Of Social Bluffing

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Bluffing, in this case, is not “eh are you bluffing me?” but the art of pretending to look smarter than you are.

Case 1

Ever bumped into a familiar person and forgot his/her name? No problem!

You: What’s up duuude?
(Name has been withheld from lousy memory): Heyyy!
You: How’ve you been?

You then go into conversation, as if you greeted the person by name. Well even if you don’t remember their name, you remember where you’ve met them and what you’ve done together, right?

Whatever you do, do not start with:

You: Heyyyyy I know you! (This line just reeks of “I forgot your name!“-ness.)

It’s even easier when you’re with a friend. Do not introduce them to each other – let them introduce themselves. Then, as you go on separate paths, you say, “See ya (name withheld)!”

Case 2

A person is looking at you with that expression that says that you’re familiar, but you don’t recognize him/her.

You: Heyyy! Do I know you from somewhere? (Yes, get his/her hopes up and act.)
(Person who thinks you’re familiar): Er yeah! I know you from…
You: Oh sorry, I don’t go to/I don’t hang out at/I’m not into… (That’s your exit line.)
(Person embarrassed): Oops sorry, wrong person then.

By then he/she would have walked away, embarrassed.

Case 3

You recognize the person, but you’re not sure that it’s him/her.

You: Heyyy! Do I know you from somewhere? (Pretend that you’re sure it’s him/her.)

There are two cases:

(Familiar person): Yeah! I know you from… (You should rejoice and know what to do then.)

The second case:

(Familiar person): Er… no?
You: Oops sorry, wrong person then.

Do not run off embarrassed.

Whatever it is, do not greet the familiar person by name. Don’t go, “Heyyy aren’t you (insert wrong name)?” If it’s not him/her, you will look like a fool.

Poe, Sir?

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I am inspired by the morbidness of the blog entries of late of my linkees. And so, here goes a poseur attempt:

So am I going to make a move? Is a move going to displace me? If I am displaced, have I fallen off the ladder? Am I supposed to climb up or down? Do I even know where to go?

I’ll take the stairs instead. It’s easier to sit on stair steps than on a ladder. I’m not an acrobat. I may bend, but I am not trained to fall… gracefully. In which case I think it is best I stay sitting. I might even block people from going up or down the stairs. Why, why must you go up or down? Aren’t you happy where you are?

I sit here, not knowing where to go. Some sit because they’re lazy, or tired. The important thing is, we’re both sitting here on the stairs, yes?

If this is how I shall wilter my life away, I’d wish I was dead. Or a zombie. Being undead would be cool. It’s like playing pool and potting the black ball, but continuing to play anyway. The fun is there, but the meaning is gone. Balls.

Unlike those with the formulas, I wish not to control. I wish as far as to know the outcome. For being in control means knowing the outcome and controlling it. I shall not be that ambitious.

I need feedback. Am I doing well? Am I alright? Sometimes, confidence really is what you need to get the right angle. You’ve got to put your heart and soul in it. You’ve got to bend over, vulnerably. Finally, hit it firmly and don’t withdraw. Worry about misplacing and losing later.

You want everything? I do too. Aren’t we part of everything? Everything is the universal set. By such logic, we are in each others’ set. We are a set. In theory.

*snaps into a Keanu Reeves expression or lack thereof*

This is like totally.

This blog entry was inspired by recent events, but not in any way reflective of anything. (I do hope it’s not misconstrued either…) I just needed to feel better by increasing the general verbosity of my blog.

More Than Meets The Eye

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The Sony Ericsson k700i is the new Sony Ericsson T610. The same crowd bought it.


GSC Cinemas open in Berjaya Times Square! There, at the third floor.


I am now the proud owner of a Mazda RX-8.


Gotta love the mesmerizing taillights.


Okay, so it’s a left-hand drive but heck, I got it cheap.


Oh, and it’s small for a Transformer Alternator.


Of course, considering that the Rubik Cube it sat on is the biggest, at over 150% of an originally-sized cube, it isn’t that small after all. From left: Corinne got me this early birthday present; the normal-sized cube, the 133% sized cube, and the 150% super-sized one.


What a poser. I mean, literally, with superb articulation and detail.


Meister, really, is Jazz in a rebranded disguise.

This, an 8-in-1 card reader, and the excellent Power Of Soul: A Tribute To Jimi Hendrix have satiated my purchasing tendencies for this month, I hope.

Of Sugar And Spice

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I can cut down on my Teh Tarik to lower my sugar levels, but what can I do about a broken heart?

It was about time Davina joined the blogging bandwagon. Yes, that hippie vegetarian who is always on the cartooniest sugar high. The funky never-looks-the-same Jamiroquai and Beatles fan, about 6 years before I discovered them. The one who will undoubtedly win the Albert’s Funkiest Friend award. And so, I’ve updated my links in my About Me! page.

Friday: Starbucks Mont Kiara

I went for the second half of the KLue Starbucks Music Series.


Ronnie Khoo, of the band formerly known as RUSH and now known as Furniture, Wednesday and also Ciplaq (or however they spell it.) I missed most of his set waiting for my food.


Bedsheet Wonders, two guys on acoustic guitar, had arrangements so obviously electric. They were more on the British sound, which made me notice that this Music Series was more… focused around the tastes of KLue writers. They all seem to like British self-slitting melancholia and alternative indie. I, on the other hand, only properly like Black Sabbath of all those that come from the UK!


Her Reverie had a more American indie sound to them. Three guitars, no disappointment; Sui Lin was backed up with the percussionist’s elaborate arranged vocals, and the guitarists took turns to solo.


I haven’t seen a guitarist use a guitar slide live much, so this was cool. The other guitarist also played a harmonica, but they weren’t playing the blues.


I think that owners of Volkswagen Beetles have a sense of collectiveness. I bet it wasn’t even a Beetles gathering. If I had a Beetle, I’d park next to a Beetle for the fun of it. And so, a chain of Beetles would form, as everyone knows that classic Beetles attract attention.


Even mannequins love a little tease.

I’d love to blog about the hitz.fm Birthday Bash, but it seems that I have lost all capability to blog without the aid of pictures to distract you from my uncreative prose. Despite my camera being in a locker where we were always one buck short, enough pictures were taken that I was certain I was going to crash my Mercedes in a tunnel.

Sweeet

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I went for my medical checkup yesterday with my colleagues. Now, the word medical checkup as defined by American sitcoms consist of a few tests including one where the examiner puts on gloves and asks you to take off your pants.

* Names have been initialized for privacy

J was the first to be called in.

Me: Did they, y’know… (makes a putting-on-gloves gesture)
J: I’m… not… a… virgin… anymore… (while walking funny)
Me: Ow! Did they make you sit in any position?
J: She made me bend over. She also said, “Eee! So small! So cute! Make it blink!”

J was called in again, to take a blood test and answer questions.

He came out with both elbows folded, fists pointing upwards.

“He poked the left at first. Then he was like “Oops no blood!” and then he poked the right.”

My blood test wasn’t as unfortunate. I didn’t look as he swabbed it. The doctor said, “Hmmm, this will be a bit messy.” At least there was blood. 🙂

I also found out that I had high levels of sugar. Like, diabetic levels. I was taken aback by that, since I wasn’t a chocolate or coffee junkie! I’d rather have chips than sweets! All I have in the mornings is a Teh Tarik and Soya Bean in the evening. A possible culprit would be the sweets I consume around the office, but that can be forsaken.

This morning, I had my first ever Teh Tarik Kurang Manis (tea with condensed milk, but less sweet this time). For lunch, I endured the office cafeteria’s no-sugar-added orange juice. (One would usually pour in some sugar to mix.)

I’m scared. Really. I don’t wanna jab myself with insulin everyday! The reason why I’m not a druggie is because I can’t swallow pills, I can’t inject myself, I have a sensitive nose (pass *koff* that *koff*joint*koff*) and I am naturally stoned around the smell of cigarette smoke.