Category Archives: Travelling

Fashion Action

I went shopping, by myself, for fashion items! A phone conversation with my distraught-friend-cum-information-counter gave me just enough steam to walk into a girls’ accessories shop… to look for a metal hairband.

It was then I discovered how daunting it was. I tried a few, but they were either too tight or too loose, or propped on my hair at the wrong angle, to make me look like a princess with a black metal tiara. (RAWR.)

The shop assistants were blur also, as to what I wanted. I was indecisive! They did not know whether I should get the one that looked like a curved spring, or the one that looked like a curved comb that looked like a torture device clamped around victims’ necks.

I bought the curved spring eventually, out of pity, since I tried about everything there.

I should’ve brought a female friend to help me with my decision. Of course, if she was fashionable, she’d probably grab some trinkets herself. Gah. Patrick where are you? I need a gay buddy now. To go shopping and telling me what to get, that is. No you can’t come with me to the dressing room. Yeah I finally caught Queer Eye For The Straight Guy.

No wonder girls can be indecisive when shopping, or trying out different articles of clothing and having a hard time deciding (and giving their partner a hard time convincing her that the black top does look better on her). It’s not the inherent fact that she’s a girl and she is indecisive. Female shop assistants usually don’t help you with decisions!

Now compare this to a male shop assistant, who sternly and brashly tells you, “get the Fujifilm F11. Seriously. I can tell you that this has the best quality pictures because of its high sensitivity and low noise.

Justifying fashion to a girl is quite impossible. To the girl who swore off silk, well you otherwise wear clothes that flatter you and I do check you out when you’re walking in front and… oh well, I still say stupid things.

I have a confession: I get a certain twinge of laziness when it comes to fashion. I had the money to go get my hair done (that phrasing sounds feminine) dye my hair but I never got around to it until my sister asked if I wanted to share. I never got around to buying jeans until I made a deal with a friend which involved her helping me pick jeans, because I really don’t know these things.

P.S. I never knew that I had polo shirts all this while. Polo shirts sound like some exclusive golfwear. Turns out that they’re just collared shirts with two buttons. Sometime back, I also found out that I had khaki pants after all. Well sue me for being fashionably incompetent, I’m not homosexual. And maybe, my slight homophobia (or rather, fear of gays, and not lesbians) transcends into fashion-phobia as well.

P.P.S. Michelle you owe me a bath! Make sure you scrub deep.

Gimme Some Money

I was walking from Pasar Seni to Masjid Jamek, downtown KL, when two Malay guys and one Malay girl were walking in my opposite direction. We would not walk into each other’s path, but suddenly one of the guys veered towards my direction, with his hands up like a bear’s, and a comical expression, and he said gruffly:

GIVE ME YOUR MONEY!

He then grabbed me moderately. I mean, like a bear would, but lighter. But not sissified either.

The way he played the joke, it was almost as if he knew me. Except he didn’t.

I stayed cool, somehow expecting it, and guessing that his friends dared him, so I turned to look at his friends, as they looked at him weirdly. He then smiled and I patted him off dismissively.

What was strange wasn’t just that he did that to a total stranger, but also that the total stranger totally understood what he intended to transpire, and played along. I have crazy friends who would do that! (To me, not to total strangers, of course.)

I then checked my pockets, and nothing was lost. A few hairs did stand up, but I was otherwise cool.

Diet Coax

11 PM, Friday, February 3rd 2006, location: KL Sentral

For the first time ever, KL Sentral’s concourse area was clear.

Earlier, at 7pm, I was there at McDonalds ordering. They didn’t have chicken porridge or Diet Coke/Coke Light!

How could they not have Diet Coke? How could they run out? Does everybody order Diet Coke? I thought all you McDonalds junkies order Coke, the real thing, not the weak artificial imitation. I thought you all order burgers too, so how could they run out of porridge? (I normally don’t order porridge but I was feeling sick.)

This is why I drink Diet Coke.

Cabbie With Soul

So I hopped in a cab. This post will be partially translated from Malay to English as and when I feel like; cabbie will speak in italics while I will not. Conversation may not be completely, accurately transcribed, and may be shortened by accident.

So… kau dari mana?
I dari Bangsar Shopping Complex.
Oh… kerja ke?
Nolah, I baru tengok show. Itu Harith Iskander kat Actors Studio.
Wahhh itu Harith Iskander ya? Dia boleh buat wang buat show. English market.
Er.. yeah.
Kau tau, dulu I sekolah I buat persembahan. Banyak pementasan. Cikgu pun supportive. Tapi… I keluar, I buat security guard.
Huh kenapa you tak masuk? Kalau you tau, you bagus, you boleh buat.
Oh adalah… I ada cuba jugak. Masa tu ada interview RTM. Buat newscaster. Saya ada pergi. Tapi diorang macam nak… tak nak… nak ke tak nak? So I masa tu baru tujuh belas, I tak tahu apa-apa lagi, tak tau nak pergi mana, tinggal mana, I baru datang KL 1985.

He then goes on to say how he learnt scriptwriting, and knew how to and did everything on the set.

He went on about how Kisah Benar stories lack quality, and how anyone could watch a drama and complain about how it could’ve been so much better. About how Rosyam Nor is just doing it for the money, without the soul. And that he was actually sponsored by an Indian company, using his name to approach big companies.

You tau sekarang punya drama? Bila dia ada scene kenduri. Dulu kan, dia buat atmosphere dia tau. Ada budak lari sini-sana. Ada budak mau kencing. Sekarang kan, dia terus pergi dialog.

I threw in my own tangent:

Look at the colors in Jefri Zain movies! I was watching ASTRO RIA and saw bright vivid nicely post-processed technicolor in Gerak Kilat. Nowadays you see baaad, bad color and horrid, dark brown skin tones. What happened to good post-processing on film? Is digital film making our local productions look horrible?

He was actually quite photogenic. He had the look, even at his age. How old?

Anak saya pun ada kata, “Abah buatlah filem…”

I told him to go and do it, the next time his friends in the scene ask him to. Because he needs to represent. Because he needs to fix what is wrong with local drama.

You’ve got soul, go do it.

You got a chance, go chase it. (A cabbie was once a double-pedalling drummer whose band was about to get its big break.)

He then ended by asking if I had stock options in ASTRO. Yeah, I said. Keep it, he said. He then went on about stocks and went all stock-geek on me.

Sadly, I fear that he was just being lazy about it, like a lot of us. Why aren’t we getting up and doing what is right? Is Afdlin Shauki the only champion in local movies? (Okay, and Yasmin Ahmad too.)

I may not be a pious person; I believe in soul as the passion to do what is right.

Every Man’s Dream

I dreamt that I was at TGI Friday’s at The Curve on Valentine’s Day 2006, and I had a few drinks and a big sundae with THE hothothot Hannah Sarah Tan. Then nosy cameramen from NTV7 poked their noses at us.


I never had such a vivid dream, complete with blinding sunlamps and three people seated (I assume they were producers who set us up.) It felt SO real, so intense.

If my dreams were any indicator of my future, I reckon that I’d appear on TV at NTV7, 12:15am (technically) February 14th 2006. Which means you set a phone reminder on 11:45pm February 13th 2006 so you have half an hour to get home and find a TV set. So if I already met Hannah Sarah Tan at the start of V-Day, I cannot imagine how much better the day can go. (I was rudely awakened.)

Generally January One

I am braindead and so I present to you pictures. Serious. I will blog about the Police Rights workshop I attended soon. I will blog about many things. But first, pictures, because that side of my brain was still working.


Assembly Point – where it’s legal to have an assembly, because there is a sign!


Man, those are some stoned monkeys.


I took a cab to Robson Heights, and ended up on the wrong side, but I stopped here to take pictures anyway. Thank goodness for that diversion, or else I would be feeding mosquitoes in LostGenSpace, where the workshop was held.


Waterfalls are captured with long exposures and small apertures, e.g. 15 seconds and F8. A tripod, or in this case, a rock, was used to stabilize the picture. I also used my circular-linear-wannabe-neutral-density filter to prevent it from being overexposed.


Photoshop was then used to counter the blue tint of my not-so-neutral density filter. (Neutral meaning it does not change the color of the picture.)


I know not the meaning, but I want the good luck it is supposed to bring. Now to buy 4D.


The polarizers also come in handy; you’d otherwise see huge white reflections in the pond.


They reach dry land where they bask and stone.


Man, time goes by so fast these days, eh young snapper?


Check out the rock-hard shell. It even looks like a rock! Oh wait, it’s a rock. Toadally.


Basking outdoors. He is, technically, outdoors anyway.


Thus began the walk up the hilly roads of Robson Heights.


To a spooky looking bungalow where I would be mosquito feed again.


I met Lainie there. For lunch break I walked alone as she was engrossed in deep, headache-inducing conversation.


I walked past the legendary Brickfields Police Station, where the hardcore-punk-mistaken-as-black-metal kids were taken to on New Year’s Eve. The workshop taught us how to deal with police and what our rights were. These people weren’t given their rights, yo.


I landed in Nagas, this fancy-looking mamak opposite the police station.


The tandoori chicken was like no other. Fluffy, fresh chicken and naan bread. Mmm. The next time I’m hungry in KL Sentral, I will walk here.


It is said that teh tarik should not be consumed from a glass.


Take it straight from the source, yo. (I’m not dissing teh tarik; I love it, but I can’t have too much of it.)


A drunk fan was spotted opposite the police station! (Note the Chivas Regal bottle in an open box.)

One Of One

Instead of listing what I did this year (which is basically sleep, eat, play guitar and blog so far), or listing what I did last year, I’ll list what I did in the past few New Years.

1st January 2001: This would be the last year I’d celebrate it at home.
1st January 2002: I was in the office with Paul and Joey. We did a three-way handshake to usher the new year.
1st January 2003: Rock The World 3 was held in a parking lot near KLCC. At midnight, Emmett of Butterfingers was on stage. “Oh. Fireworks.” His expression was timeless; we were expecting it to come minutes later! After all that, I proudly walked to Ampang Park, instead of KLCC, avoiding the Malaysian Book Of Records’ largest human sandwich.
1st January 2004: Trent, Ed, Jasmine and I walked back and forth a few times from Bintang Walk to KLCC. We were in front of Haagen Dazs in Lot 10 when the countdown happened. Being in such a crowd, with everybody spraying each other with foam sprays and giving everybody a free hair coloring in the spirit of Sungei Wang fashion, and feeling like puking after smelling all that spray – now that was a moment (or a few hours) worth experiencing at least once in your life.
1st January 2005: A tsunami had just struck, so we Malaysians were not encouraged to celebrate. Gigs were cancelled, and celebration was muted. Shaz and I were at his collegemate’s place in Bangsar, where I first tried shisha, and tested out my newly acquired Canon Powershot A400.
1st January 2006: Over the hills and far away, I was at Shelley‘s balcony in Cheras, watching the fireworks. I took pictures, but they were disappointing and shall come in a later post.

Free-flowing Glory

Here goes a free-flowing story. (To differentiate who is saying what, what I say will be italicized while what anyone else said will be underlined.)

So it was a Friday night after Tracy‘s gig. I had to pee, so I walked down from Plaza Damas to Desa Sri Hartamas, as Plaza Damas was closed and there were no other toilets around. I did not intend to flash anybody at the playground so I kept on walking.

Since I had a good holding capacity, I reached Coffee Bean and bumped into two dudes I knew. Went to Breakers to pee. Came back out.

So how come you guys are hanging out here instead of there?” *points to Hartamas Square*
Oh it’s very crowded man. Plus this place is less noisy.” (Cue thumping music blasting out the balcony of the infamous Soda Club.)
Hmmm, but the scenery there is better. Here we get the Soda crowd… it doesn’t feel like the Hartamas of before, y’know what I mean?
Yeah but here you pay a bit more for the quiet.
Hmm yes, but I think I’ll head over to Hartamas Square and see if I bump into anybody. I almost always do! There are always a few regulars there… plus, the international school chicks!
Well fine then, leave us then. Don’t blame us if you don’t bump into anybody.

And so, I walked to Hartamas Square, and sure enough, the first table I see had two familiar faces! (And a hot chick!)

HAYYY ALBERT!
Dude! I see you every time! I saw you here yesterday, and here you are again…” (I came the day before for Alda‘s Low End Assasins gig.)

I told him how my other friends said I wouldn’t bump into anybody, and he forced me to sit down instead of surveying how likely I was to bump into more people. I was introduced to the chick. YAY!

They were smoking shisha, and I took the oppurtunity to sample it, repeatedly. The shisha shop dude then came over, saying how he could blow shisha smoke into a bottle and change its color.

I whipped out my digital camera to take a picture of the yellowed bottle.

The guy to my right went, “Cool! A digital camera! Can I see it?” I then passed it to him.

The chick went, “Wow, you carry a digital camera around wherever you go?” “Yeah I do!” “Cool!

The guy fiddled around with my camera and asked, “Dude, does this have shutter speed?” I said yes, and showed him that it was the Tv mode on the dial.

He then took pictures of everybody smoking shisha, YAY!

Now you may wonder why I would be overjoyed. Simple! He saved me the trouble of finding an excuse to make the chick do something photo-worthy with the shisha. (Of course, all I wanted was a picture of her, shisha or not.) Inside, I was thinking, “YAY thank you for taking pictures of her, with flash even!” Since he knew her, it wouldn’t be so awkward.

My friends from Coffee Bean passed by. I went, “Wassap! What did I tell you? What did I tell you, huh? You said I wouldn’t bump into anybody! Haha!

She then looked at the pictures. All this while, I didn’t, playing it cool. We then played foosball at Breakers till they closed the coin change counter, and we all went home.

It wasn’t until I reached home that I realized I should’ve checked the pictures.

Dammit! He set it to night scene, which meant a flash, followed by a show exposure. In normal mode with flash, it would be clear. Damn you, you half-white French-speaking shisha-smoking boy!

That is all for the free flowing story.

Singgah More


We are, we are, the waiting.


On the walk to the train restaurant, we cam-whored. Lower picture is the Woodlands Checkpoint. Rest assured I am not a fan of foreign objects spoiling the scenery (namely, us camwhores) so the other pictures will not have Jason, Jenifur or Cherrie in it. You want camwhores you go to their blog. Uh, after you’re done reading mine, that is.


Yes, we are on track, on time, GMT+0800 that is, no, not Malaysian time.


We walked to Tanjong Pagar MRT, and passed a HDB (High-Density Block) that Singapore is famous for. Note the lack of balconies. Aye, population control at its best.


We then hopped on the MRT to Eunos, to ex-colleague Juan‘s HDB, which, really, isn’t bad. It looked like a simple apartment.


This was the view from his window. (No he does not live in on mushroom(s) with the Cheshire Cat; both pictures were taken with the infrared filter.)

I hopped on a cab to City Hall. Funny thing with cabs here is that they actually let everybody else pass first. In Malaysia, it is the opposite, where taxi drivers are very skilled overtakers.


I headed to Peninsula Shopping Complex to check out the array of guitar shops. Spot the machine-gun-guitar and the Doraemon guitar! This was Davis Guitars. YK, JFK and I then went to Plaza Singapura where Swee Lee Guitars was supposed to be located. Turns out it was in Bras Basah Complex instead, but before heading all the way back there, we grabbed non-halal Burger King. The toilets there were decorated like a club! Unfortunately, the handicapped toilet was locked! :O


Can you walk on a straight line? Note the Tiger Beer truck. 😀


While at Peninsula Plaza, I also got a Circular Polarizer Filter for my camera; what it did was reduce glare and reflection from non-metallic surfaces. However, I’d need to turn the filter to focus it, and it would only work for one area. On the left, there is no reflection in the water; however the window is reflecting. On the right it is the opposite!


The Edge is very much like The Curve in Mutiara Damansara, Malaysia; they both have a shaded atrium. Spot the YK and the JFK!


Spot the edge on The Edge’s obviously-not-real-marble pillar.


I then headed to Orchard Road. The number of shopping malls, and the standard of each, was insane! I thought it was hard enough to achieve navigational mastery of Bintang Walk.


All this while, I used the MRT (left picture, going down their notably faster escalators, those kiasus). Top-right: They have metal guides for the blind! Therefore, blind people need not use their canes to scan for floor guides; they could just use metal detectors! 😀 Middle-right: The dignity of a walking signboard is salvaged with a box on his head. Bottom-right: The buses are cool; they have two compartments, or two floors!


Level One had a very appealing floor pattern. 😀


We then headed to Clarke Quay, like Bangsar with a seaside view, without the dingy mamak down the road.


There, they had the GMAX – bungee jumping in a seat.


Boing!


We went back to Juan’s and found a suicidal lizard in the freezer.


Sunday morning was a mamak breakfast.


Whatcha gawking at?


The infrared filter also makes for a neutral density filter effect, slowing down motion.


Wave to the people!” “Hey will you put me down now?” “Sure, oh dear wife…


Are you weighted down by time?


I bought a 1.5 liter bottle of water at the KTM station in Tanjong Pagar, Singapore. It tasted normal… till I read the label. It sounded recycled. HAHA! Smart Johoreans, slowly poisoning Singaporeans. What happens when you expose it to sunlight?


So we took the train. To quote Petrina who I can’t link – “stim“!


Nah, of course, we didn’t take either train.


So this is what it looks like when I’m not on the waiting side.


Home, home sweet home. Okay, Johor isn’t home. Country, country sweet country.


Ollld man river.


You wouldn’t see a crane in Singapore city; I don’t see how it possibly could be more developed! There were no roadworks or construction activities going on.


I see tea. I can’t wait to say “hi city”. Man, bad punnery.

So yes, I liked Singapore. I’m all for the law and order, and the bombastic English (“do not stand on the parapet” was seen on the MRT; I didn’t know what a parapet was!)

Singapore is clean! You wouldn’t be able to spot a bit of paint blemish even. Hooray for competitiveness versus our nonchalance. Organization and integration versus the relaxed attitude to the law here. It was hard to find trashcans (perhaps the council needed to make it easier to fine litterbugs). Taxis and buses were fitted with LCD panels. Cars were boxier/angular-shaped (perhaps it was the in-thing to have a car look like the highway scenes in The Matrix Reloaded) and since Singapore didn’t have its own national car, I gawked at Toyotas, Hondas and Mitsubishis all day. Buildings too were boxy and rectangular, and it looked like they were sponsored by paint companies! Most buildings were painted gawdily with deeper pastel colors. It wasn’t until I headed out to the city, passing the bay, that I saw regular-colored skyscrapers.

The few that broke out of the 90 degree shapes was a church that had… 45 degree angles! Still, it was better than nothing.

The uniformity was good. I didn’t feel the anxiety of going to a new shopping complex; it had this safe, secure vibe, and it would be hard to find any stained, old walls. Only three times on the MRT and I was already feeling confident I knew how to get around, like I was an expert.

The only things I could be bitching about would be the price of food. Converted, it’s twice as much as you’d pay in Malaysia, though gadgets are about the same price. The camera salespeople had a different approach – they go “45 dollars. Uhhh you want cheaper? *punches calculator* I give you 25 lah, best price.” I didn’t even have to ask for a discount!

Oh, and during breakfast, a lady approached, asking for donations for single mothers. We then took a cab, and saw buses talking about single mothers. Well at least we know their society has decadence, too.

Singgah Sore

So I’m back from Singapore. Yes that’s right – Albert has never stepped a foot out of his beloved country before. I didn’t intend to tell many, in hopes somebody would call me and get charged a lot. 😀

My fellow Malaysians greeted my return by showing their wonderful side:
1) A money changer told me that Singaporean coins were at a different exchange rate. I thus lost 60 sen there.
2) A burger stall man did not give my change until I pointed out that it was a 50 sen and not a 20 sen coin I paid.
3) A man squashing up the queues to get on the bus reached into my front-left pocket and tickled me. Well, he didn’t reach behind, so we wasn’t trying to cop a feel. 🙁 And no, he didn’t manage to pickpocket anything. His hand was tickling me for a rather long time, too. So beware pushers!

Bandwidth-eating pictures will come later.