I got this in my email:
Dammit, since when was spam preachy? This might be God’s way of countering Penis Enlargement spam. Coz God knows, there are loads of virginal goody-two-sandal church-going pretty radiantly-glowing-in-the-sunshine-of-His-love girls who are waiting to be… uh… married.
JC: Hello Albert? This is JC from California Fitness.
Albert: Yes, speaking?
JC: You know your friend Cheneille? She gave us your number.
Albert: Ah yes yes, I know her.
JC: Ah yes. Anyway, we would like to offer you a one week free trial at our gym. You can come, try out our equipment and facilities for free.
Albert: Oh yes I’d love that, but well… One Utama is a bit inconvenient for me.
JC: Oh no no sir! We are in Midvalley sir. Are you free to come over?
Albert: No, not this week; how about next week?
JC: Sure, I’ll call you on Monday.
He never did call. 🙁
And yes, I knew California Fitness was in Midvalley. 😀 But hey, don’t people unfit-financially-for-gym mix up anything that’s not Fitness First?
Still, I got my abs, and my muscular-looking legs. Why? Because I walk. Because I take the stairs. Because I help carry computers around. Because unlike certain people, I do not insist on parking closest to the gym.
So I was watching this ‘ere Brokeback Mountain, just to see exactly fer mahself how boring it would be to a straight women-loving man such as mahself, as all my straight guy friends said that it was boring as heck. However, some lassies with queer friends might beg to differ. And queer folk, they be obviously loving it.
As the movie screen filled up with enough sheep to count to solve mah current amnesia, I wunnered who the aggressor/initiator would be. Y’know, who be shooting the gun. Would it be Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal fer those of y’all who ain’t into the habit of rememberin’ names), who was checkin’ Ennis Del Mar (Heath Ledger) out in the first scene?
Well tumble mah weed, it all happened in the dark, so I didn’t remember who was doin’ who, but they went straight to their business.
Other than that, an’ some friendly camaderie, it was just a lot of grass. Ah took a peek at the clock. Forty-two minutes. Phew. there I was, thinking it would be just half an hour past. That ain’t half bad.
Ennis Del Mar: This is a one-shot thing we got goin’ on here.
Jack Twist: It’s nobody’s business but ours.
Ennis Del Mar: You know I ain’t queer.
Jack Twist: Me neither.
There is but just one doggone thing wrong with that, and I be telling ya what it is.
They ain’t championing bull manure. They are championing chicken manure. What ah mean is, both of them, y’see, they ain’t, y’know… born queer. They just did something there then, they got married and got kids and all, and they meet up ev’ry now and then and have a go at it.
And it’s a newfangled fad that they say nowadays in town, you be born queer. This here, it ain’t helping. It ain’t so bad if they were born queer, then we put our hats down fer them, we say they can’t help it. But with this, it just meant to show, they just ain’t got the balls to take the sheep they were guarding instead.
So, the moral of the story, kids, is, well, not there. Empty revolver.
Well, at least, if ya fancy Anne Hathaway (that’s the Princess Diaries star), ya get to see her hooters in this one. And that, now kids, is why it ain’t that boring after all.
So I was paying at the mamak, when the mamak dude says:
“You look like John Michael.”
His face was relatively near mine, but I couldn’t hear what he said.
“Huh?”
“You look like John Michael. You know, the wrestler.”
The way he said it, it was as if he was going to challenge me for my trophy belt right there.
Does anybody know this wrestler, since I don’t watch wrestling?
My hair was tied back, so I guess I looked more aggressive.
Edit: He probably meant Shawn Michaels.
I have a common face, or a face to link them all. I’ve been likened to the Alien Workshop logo in secondary school, Neo (Keanu Reeves) when I wear sunglasses, David Spade of Just Shoot Me, Topher Grace (who plays Eric Forman in That ’70s Show), Gavin Yap (the local thespian), some dude in APIIT Damansara Heights, some Malay dude who worked in Nando’s Midvalley, a handsome lecturer in Lim Kok Wing, a guitar-playing maestro who also plays chess, among other people. And maybe a peacock, too.
Pardon the crude, crude Photoshopping. These are the four best impressions of the famous actors I can look like.
And hey, I secretly enjoy being told that I look like somebody, especially if that someone is famous and good-looking.
So, I myself find delight in spotting people who do look like someone else. I swear, when I say, “hey you look like my friend“, it is not a pickup line. It gives me great joy to spot lookalikes, great joy to tell them, and hopefully, the person will be overjoyed as I am, too, secretly. Well, if I freaked you out then I am sorry. 😛
Edit: Check out Jenifer’s celebrity lookalike.
So I bought the brand new Star Wars Transformers. (I got it a while back; just got Luke Skywalker to complete the first set.)
For its price, which was 75% of a Transformer Alternator, it was amazingly detailed. It took after the Star Wars series, with a penchant for detail and quality.
Featuring the cowardly robot.
The one who would teach them all.
The heavy-breath-taking father.
The eager son.
Note the paintjob on the helmet! Superb craftsmanship.
I might as well take time to squeeze in a little photography lesson; when taking macro shots, switch to Aperture Priority if you have such an option, and change the aperture to say F5.6 to get more of the picture in focus. F2.8 (on the left) means that less of the picture would be in focus. Below is a missile from Luke Skywalker’s X-Wing; note the ball-release mechanism. I loved it compared to the spring-loaded missile launchers because it was less likely to jump out during transformation.
Yes, that’s right kids; the mini-me figurine can fit in their vehicles! Major props for the innovative design. Also, all except General Grevious’ Wheel Bike have smart ways of storing their lightsabers when in vehicle mode (and no, it doesn’t turn off and retract.)
And I wonder too; if Obi’s mini-me is in scale to his Jedi Starfighter, and his droid is in scale to it too, and Luke is in scale with R2D2 and X-Wing, why is Obi’s droid so big?
Anyway, action figures were meant to be posed, as much as their articulation would allow, and boy are these Transformers articulate. Sure, they have the chunky old-school look, but I love it. In a way, it was like the transforming ship in Spaceballs.
Yeah, yeah, technically this scene could never happen.
“Luke, I am your father.”
“What a way to do a DNA test. At least the videos were good, none of that Wookie-on-Gungan trash.”
Sarah asked me once why I do not put pictures of chicks much. Well, quite simply, I was being proper and permission-asking, I told her, since some people get all hissy about it. Or maybe she just wanted some pimpage on my blog, read by loads of rockers, lesbians, geeks, colleagues, alcoholics in denial, bloggers who don’t step out of their homes, amateur photographers, friends, Romans and countrymen. 😛
The subject for today is: How do you tell if a girl is gossippy? Quite simple.
Subject A is seen here on the phone. What does she do with her other hand while on the phone? Twirl her hair, of course. (Note that hair-twirling only happens at a comfortable length; thus, if she has twirls and curls at the top of the head, it is unlikely that it is caused by her message-disseminating pastime.)
However, the girls you really gotta watch out for are those with straight hair. Why? They don’t have twirls, because both hands are busy holding phones. 😛
I knew a girl who loved ladybugs. And so, it was my plan for the longest time to play a prank on her give her a present. The plan? Make her red Perodua Kancil a ladybug!
I purchased black manila paper, cellophane tape, and cut the manila paper into circles, about the size of CDs.
I arranged a meetup solely for this purpose. I chose a place where I’d be able to see where she parked, namely Amcorp Mall, near Taman Jaya (where KY Speaks collected mandarin oranges). I stood outside, with camera in hand, pretending to take pictures of scenery. She didn’t notice me until I waved frantically (I wanted to hop in so I could find out where she parked.) Instead, she waved back, and parked in the outdoor car park instead of inside, thank goodness.
I then waited in the shade to see which part of the parking lot she came from, so it would be easier to locate her car.
We went for a hearty lunch. Towards the end, I excused myself to go to the toilet, and knowing Amcorp Mall’s hidden, shady toilets, I had an excuse to take a while.
I ran down to the outdoor carpark, frantically tore the cellophane tape and plastered the pre-cut manila paper all over. The manila and tape were concealed in my cargo pants pocket (why would I bring a bag to the toilet?)
Okay fine, I only taped it to the front and right side but that was enough to be seen.
I then ran back, and found that the iced lemon tea I was drinking was gone! I insisted on walking her back to her car to see her reaction.
I’ve done enough straightforward storytelling, so it’s time for you to guess her reaction.
“Hey uh, since you can’t really drive a ladybug around, here’s a smaller toy ladybug.” (Which I produced from my other side pocket.)
Anyway, Happy Valentine’s Day to everybody. Instead of slobbering in mushiness or moping about, you could blog about cool, ingeniously sweet things you could do. Or you could take a friend’s girlfriend out. Taxi drivers will relate to you their stories of how they learned another language for their loves!
Q: Why did Deja Voodoo change their name to Deja Voodoo Spells?
A: They wanted to spell out.
As of late, I’ve been listening to songs with the almighty cowbell in them. Why? I gotta have more cowbell, baby!
Blue Oyster Cult – Don’t Fear The Reaper also has a menacing, killer solo, something you’d never quite hear anywhere else.
I also searched for songs with cowbell in them. (Click here then search for all.) Well golly gee, Fatboy Slim – Weapon Of Choice, which also had Christopher Walken in it, has cowbell, baby!
Someday, when I have a belly and a blonde afro, I’ll join my favorite band, with cowbell in hand.
There has been hoo-ha among Malaysians and Singaporeans online about who is a blogger, and who is qualified to be called a blogger.
Well.
If Google wasn’t so nice, they’d sue all of us, because a quick hop to http://www.blogger.com reveals a little Copyright � 1999 – 2005 Google at the bottom. So people, stop calling yourselves blogg… er, you know, that word.
A blog was originally defined as someone who puts a link and writes a small commentary about it. Right Lionel? Therefore, Xiaxue and Dawn Yang do not own a blog. If we write about our daily lives, we are writing in journals, not blogs, as we do not follow the format. The word journalist already implies underpaid writers with limited freedom of speech and ethics. We don’t get paid, we are free to say anything and make baseless claims, so we’re far off from journalists. Journallers perhaps.
So, who really owns an account on the Internet that can be rightly called a blog? Kahsoon, of course.
I met the hot FireAngel outside Zouk, while waiting for my friends to come so I could get them in on my guest list (as opposed to the other way round, suckers!) Of course, I forgot to take a picture as proof, but Albert never lies on his blog. He may be sarcastic but he never lies!
So where were all the other blogg… I mean, journallers? They didn’t have such a happening social life, obviously. There we stood, two relative journal heavyweights, waiting for friends. Journal heavyweights meaning, we’ve both read each other’s blogs but never acknowledged each other’s presence (or were officially introduced in real life for that matter!)
Meanwhile, 95% of the journal heavyweights were at home, refreshing Project Petaling Street, slinging permalinks and trackbacks.
I think permalink is a very ga… no, even if I was gay, I would not use the term permalink. See the Replies link below? That is the link to this journal entry.
For more annoying terms, Maddox already beat me to it.