What is evil?

My evil laugh.

Yes, I never have a consistent evil laugh. It’s all live improvisation when I am amused by your pitiful cause. However conjured it may be, it still strikes terror in hearts of those who ears catch the hearty waves.

“What the heck was that?”

Oh, I love it when they say that. Then I end up explaining that I was doing my evil laugh and not having some psychotic flashback.

It’s not like I sound possessed; I have controlled evil laughter. Maniacal is the word. It also depends on company. Whether you notice it or not, we all laugh differently with different people. Their laugh rubs off on us. If you think this person laughs all the same all the time, it’s probably because you’re with the person. 😛

It also helps to make an evil snicker, or evil grin.

There are many methods, that I shall attempt to spell out here, but due to cultural and phonetic differences, I do not guarantee that your interpretation and pronunciation of the syllables are the same.

“Hahahah.”
“Muh-ah-haha.”
“NYAH-haha-haha.”
“Kkkk-KAH kah-KAH kah.”
“HAH! Ha ha hah! Nya hahaha.”

These are just the simple forms. It is recommended that you carefully punctuate your laugh with loud and soft bits, dramatic pauses and chortles, as well as eye twinges. You may also gasp, but choking is unprofessional. Save that for the next Austin Powers movie.

If you should stumble and pause, squint your eyes in that formulating-master-plan style. What master plan? Gee, you’re an evildoer and you don’t have a plan? Did you think that you could escape planning all your life, just because your parents were controlling you and forcing you to be an accountant? No! There is no escaping it! (Oh wait, I feel a laugh coming on. Excuse me.)

Disclaimer: I’m not evil, I just like being playfully mean. 🙂

Someday, my friends, I shall write a book, and criminal warlords shall send their footperson (footmen are never as stealthy as footwomen) to break glass casings in fancy bookshops to steal it! And when the footperson returns, the criminal warlord shall keep silent. The footperson shall tremble in anticipation. Had he/she grabbed the wrong book? The warlord flips through the pages, studying the text. Suddenly, thunderous evil laughter is heard!

The footperson is relieved at his/her master’s approval.

P.S. I’ve updated my About Me! page with updated links to DJ Phuturecybersonique, Rocket Queen and fresh, interesting reads from Crappo and Ayunami. Count with me! One! Two! Three! (Thunder crash in background.)

5:11pm, Malaysia’s Independence Day: I woke up to a phone call from some mobile number, 01?6997081. I pretended to know who it was, while sounding sleepy. Somehow she knew my name was Albert. There were giggling female voices in the background.

Me: Are you Dide‘s friend?
Her: Who’s Dide? I’m Mimi.
Me: Do you know any Christines?
Her: Er, Christine… Christine who ah?

Somehow I got it down to her liking iced Milo and fried mee. She just finished 5 minutes worth of credit. To that I respect her, being an honorable stalker and not just missed-calling me.

I then went back to sleep.

The mystery plagued me! Aaah! Damnit, I must find out, Watson!

I called her back, and 5 minutes of useless interrogation that was. She then messaged, saying that I’ll never guess.

She wasn’t a random number pranker; otherwise, she’d have done a mighty good job of guessing my name.

She sounded educated, but with a Malaysian accent.

If you have any clues to her identity or whereabouts, you will be rewarded with iced Milo.

Justine has a new URL in my About Me! page. Oh yes, it is time to call attention to the deprived-of-pimpage Brickchick.

I have been in a constant state of business. Busy-ness. So here’s my short apologies for the few eulogies. (I checked; eulogy doesn’t mean that the praised must be dead first…)

Yes, a post with his name in the title.

I just realized that I don’t have any substantial content on my site now, so I give you a link! Here’s to the rebirth of a fun to read blog – Scopolamine.

Majorly delayed but here goes:

I got a haircut at the regular Indian barber shop.

What makes it so worthy of a blog entry?
I was charged 10 Ringgit Malaysia.

So? Isn’t that the regular price?
For an adult haircut, that is! Yes, I have been charged RM9 every other time! Finally, acknowledgement for my mature look. He even did a quick shave near my jawline, threw in some yellow lotion at the back, and he took a towel and cracked my head left and right!

Oh yeah, I felt like a man.

I walked out looking like a boy again.

My final exam for this semester ended today, and boy was a 40-minute piece of cake. I don’t usually feel this good about exams (since they’re usually a lot harder…)

What’s worse is my next semester; it’s all part-time-timed classes. I have no evenings left! I shall savor the limited days ahead with no fear of coronaviruses or falling nukes!

Anyway, I’ve linked Scopolamine in my About Me! page. This guy has a rather funny way of describing his day-to-day events. That’s the way people should blog about their otherwise boring lives, y’hear? Go, then! (No, not leave, click on Scopolamine!)

Please comment if you feel deprived of such link pimpage. 😛

It also seems that I am never free. Something always has to happen when I’m sick, busy studying for exams (that is a rather short timeframe, but it happened), or whenever I am not free to eradicate the otherworldly scum off the face of the planet. Why oh why?

Tomorrow, my friends. Tomorrow the world will be a happy place again.

That’s me. My momma and my poppa don’t need to warn me of no Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome for me to be quiver in my boots.

What’s even scarier is that there’s no cure. It ends just like that.

I just came back from Sri Aman’s Interact International Understanding day in the morning. Before that I was shivering in the morning, while having breakfast with the Xfresh Crew. We came back to the office in the afternoon, to leave for a birthday party at night.

It is sundawn as I write this and I have been freezing. If I type any harder my fingers would probably crack. 🙁 I have also been sneezing badly and, well, dripping. My temperature has also increased to a scary lukewarm.

Now there’s no doubt that the birthday party is a social oppurtunity, what with the birthday girl inviting her ex-schoolmates. It might be worth noting that she was from a girls’ school. 🙂

The problem is that I have a low immune system. Also, I noticed I have been touching my sensitive nose more often. Although I may not have SARS, I could easily get it there. It’s a major gamble.

Heck, I once correlated having long fingernails to getting sick, since whenever I was really sick I had long fingernails. However, my fingernails are pretty short now…

I’m now waiting for my vehicle-owning-colleagues to get here to pick up the vehicle-less-colleagues from the office. Will I go home or have (pessimistically probably, God forbid) the last night out of my life?