Life is good till you have to weed graves. It’s not so much as creepy till you see rainbow-colored flies landing on umbrellas. My father’s father’s father died of a whooping cough epidemic. It was hard for me to accept because I didn’t know of any relatives who didn’t pass away of old age. He was young – so young, the tombstone hadn’t any year inscription! I didn’t even know him. My dad wasn’t even born yet. Suddenly this guy so detrimental to the arrangement of proteins on a double-helix strand that makes you you appears.

No more weed-whacking – I wanna be cremated (when I’m dead, that is.)

Hey, um, happy belated Deepavali. Though technically the day’s not over in the rest of the world yet. 😛

My neighbourhood is small. I wonder why Deepavali, the Festival of Lights, celebrated by Hindus, brings upons lights… and sound? Noisemaking firecrackers down the road. Other kids are screaming and car alarms are ringing from the sudden pops from the rockets, but don’t those kids get it?

What’s even worse is that they have one for Chinese New Year: The dreaded caterpillar firecracker! A string with rows of red tubes, brightly colored and even brighter-sounding! Played best at night to irritation of tired and sleepy neighbors weary on their traditional money-collecting rounds.

Firecrackers and fireworks alike were supposed to be banned in this country. But then banning is something that only works… for 2 years or less. Arcades were supposed to be banned, but I can still play Daytona anywhere. It all depends, I guess. 😛

Hit certain balls into certain holes at certain spots. Certainly snooker or billiards or pool or whatever variations of the certainly green table. I certainly didn’t know and certainly forgot to find out.

So I was dragged into this parlour at a shopping mall because I was of legal age while my cohorts weren’t. (They shall remain unnamed.) Rather reluctant I was, considering it was 15 Ringgit (Malaysian Dollar) for one hour at a table! Worth it? Consider that you could play more than 5 hours at a cybercafe for the same price. Of course, bring more than 5 people and it would be cheaper because it was charged per table.

I was then told that each table had to buy a drink. Weird regulation, but heck, so I ordered a Coke. The coke came in a regular tall glass with ice and straw. Then the waitress took out this wallet-like thingy and unfolded it. In it was a receipt, posh diner style! More than 7 Ringgit for a coke?!? Gee, a McValue Meal at McDonalds costs as much! Two cokes would cost more than an hour there! I asked if the entry price was inclusive of drink, and they said no. I told the waitress that I would’ve ordered water if I knew it wasn’t a package of an hour and a drink. No fuss, as the person who dragged me paid for and drank it.

I hadn’t played whatever variations of this game before, so I was totally clueless on what to do. I knew you had to hit the white ball and make it hit other balls into the holes, and that the white ball should not enter any hole. I also thought that the idea of the game was to hit as many balls as possible with the white ball and make them enter the holes. I was wrong. Nooo you had two types of balls; striped and solid-colored, and you could only hit those of your team’s into holes.

Hitting your opposite team’s ball would result in penalty unless you hit any of your own team’s balls first. Also, the black ball was a no-go for both teams until the team had scored all their balls in holes. By then, the black ball would be the last ball and the scorer of that ball would be the obvious winner. Plus you had to hit at least one of your own team’s balls with the white ball each turn or face the penalty again. The penalty would be that the opponent would get his/her turn and get a chance to put the white ball anywhere to his/her advantage. Now don’t take my rules exactly because my um, teacher had only played twice before. 😛

I then found out that besides my teacher, the other person also hadn’t played pool before. A newbie! 🙂

So then our teacher taught us how to hit the white ball. Sort of. A hand would be outstretched to hold the stick up at its end while the other hand (right for right-handers like me) would shift the stick forward. I couldn’t figure how to position my left thumb and index finger to force the stick to go straight! I warmed my left hand by practising striking, taking my time at the expense of my teacher (who agreed to pay as she dragged us both here!)

Strike, and my stick would usually lunge clumsily upward. I took a while to figure out that you just needed to strike hard to get it straight. Once I figured that in the second round, I could hit ambitiously. 🙂

Really, confidence in striking is all I needed to make the balls go where I wanted to. By the third round we switched teams and I took on both of them. >:) That was fun because I tried some stuff you see on TV like bouncing against the wall to hit another ball. It was a fun stunt whenever it was successful. Yep, Albert the showoff. 🙂

I lost the third round by two balls but heck, I won in the fourth round, plus I had a 3-ball scoring streak! =] My other beginner friend didn’t have as luck, though, as most of the time the ball was hit too low, causing it to jump. 😮

It was really fun, but expensive fun at that. 🙁 It was then 3 hours already! We paid per hour each. Ouch. In case you’re wondering why I wrote so long on it, yes, I am an inexperienced greenhorn. I haven’t even tried bowling. Could somebody, anybody take me out and teach me bowling (and pay for my company as well?)

Here’s a quote for Dide who made a guest appearance, cheering me to lose:

“Circle my forehead to show 3 O’ clock.”

Those who follow my Dot Masterplan should also know that the parlour was also filled with double-dot-worthiness! 🙂

P.S. I’ve updated my Quotes page again with six new quotes. For the benefit of some, here are the remaining five:

Suicide: “There is only one thing you cannot live to regret doing.”
Blissful Ignorance: “What you don’t know can’t hurt you so if you don’t know anything nothing can hurt you.”
Justificable Narcissism: “If I wasn’t full of myself, I’d be hollow inside.”
Customer Service: “The key is to look sincere.”
Teenage End: “Work is where rebellion is broken. Work is where nobody is outspoken.”

Warning: Grossness ahead.

I’m sick. (Physically.) My absence can be accounted for by my green-colored flu and fever. Green is an indication of its severity.

I’m online just to clear my spam. I wish it was as easy to clear my bronchial tract. 🙁

ZZZ

I’ve been sleeping, or in a state of half-asleepness wheezing away. Seems it was time I repaid my sleep debt of 2 years with 4 hours of sleep or less. Oddly, my eyebags became darker. Well, at least I got a cool square mohawk.

Aww nuts.

I’ve always had a weak nose. I don’t have asthma, weirdly, but I’m nasally sensitive. Heck as of last year my nose started clogging up almost immediately after taking peanuts! Sad. 🙁 I remember those nights couch potato-ing with my uncle, groundnuts on the table and trashcan beside. You know how it is – you can’t stop till it’s gone. Bonus points for triple or quadruple nuttage. Ah, those were the days.

My uncle also used to cloud his room with cigarette smoke. The effects on me would be an icky white coating on my tongue. Even though his door was closed, the ventilation holes leaked the fumes. Yech. I wonder what Singapore must smell like, having banned cigarettes. I wonder what pubs and nightspots there smell like, minus the toxicity. Does it just reek of (bearable) piss-smelling beer or do the authorities not care and let the patrons fag away? None of my friends are old enough – you have to be at least 25 years old to enter! Ironically, by then, most other people in other countries would have outgrown their clubbing stage.

Pills pills pills

I hate pills. I can’t swallow them. Try as I may, I can’t voluntarily invoke the involuntary reflex. Crunch! That’s the only way; in, down, powderily. Eww. It tastes like aircraft model glue! (Not that I’ve tasted it; I’ve only smelt it but I guess this would be what it would taste like…)

Well, at least you know I won’t become a pill-popping junkie. Or a needle’s resting place. Or a tar-lined-lung chain smoker.

Updated the About Me! page I have, with pictures of me! I have to satisfy my innate narcissistic quota by doing that.

The new Quotes entry is this:
“If you think I have a big head, wait till you see my mouth.”

Oddly, there is a feeling of dejavu with that quote, like I had heard of it before. I wonder if my brain is secretly regurgitating stuff. Even pickup lines which I just coined like “Hey baby wanna free my willy?” and “I don’t want to be friends, because that’s only 1% of what we could be.” sound like I have heard them somewhere before. If you have heard them before, tell me!

Maybe it’s about time I recount my misadventures in my blog. How about that Thursday when somebody could’ve peeed on my left shoe? (As told here: Wet Adventure.) Or about Friday, when I had to change a tire in the rain, with waterproof bantings as shelter from the rain? At any rate, I figured I would fall in a swimming pool on Saturday! (I was out the whole day, but thankfully it didn’t happen to me.)

Oh yeah have you noticed on fast food joint counters, they have this “I’m (insert cashier’s name)” on their display? I’m guessing this is so that it’s easier to pick up cashiers at fast food joints (who are probably wishing to find a rich boyfriend or something, so they don’t have to work, ha!)