Deep fried chicken skin. Cream on legs. Tight embraces. It was surely great times.

Penang.

Considered to be Malaysia's premier island, Penang is a fascnating state that is as modern as the capital, Kuala Lumpur. It's been called a food paradise. It blends the old and new like no other.

Pfft. Only a true Penangite would say that. We all know the truth. Yes, we do. Malacca is where it's at, yo!*

Anyway, enough talk about state pride, let's get on with the show. The story begins when Waffle Girl and I had to take a flight down to Penang in order to catch up with G-Milo Girl who was there earlier on business. I've always been fascinated with being in an airport; I love the hustle and bustle of it, the constant rush of people wanting to get on their flights to see their loved ones or seeing secretive people trying to smuggle durians. The plane ride was pleasant, 30 minutes in the air and back down to terra firma. My only gripe is why do all stewardesses have to put on a tonne of makeup? I could bake cakes with the amount of foundation one uses. Anyway, Waffle Girl got hit on by a couple of just pubescent boys which upon looking at me decided it best not to try further with her. Comedy at 10000 feet above sea level was ensured.

As soon as we landed, we headed towards the jetty to get our tickets for the next day's trip to Langkawi. Then it was a dash to the the hotel to wait for G-Milo Girl. When everyone was freshened up, we went out for dinner together with a friend of G-Milo Girl, Sifu, who said that people driving cars had to be wary of people not driving cars. It was apparent that the people of Penang were fearless as heck as oncoming cars would have to swerve dangerously to avoid hitting them. Later, Sifu was gracious enough to bring us around Penang even though it was getting late for him.** Supper was a short trip down the road from the hotel to a quaint eatery called quaintly, Mr. Pot. Along the way, we saw transvestites. I have no comment. The food was all right. Nothing happened, actually, but I do like the name. Then I spent the first night with the girls and I must say this to all the guys out there: girls will be girls. One of the reasons was that all manner of products were used to tone, moisturise and do things to the skin that I never thought possible. Guys, take note: if a girl is putting cream on her legs, don't ask, just compliment her.

The next day was when we went to Langkawi so you already know that story so I'll just jump to when we got back to Penang after spending only the night on the other island. As you know, besides being nearly frozen to my seat, the journey back on the ferry was 3 hours, a good 30 minutes later than expected. When we got off, we were tired, hungry and smelled. (Actually, it was mostly me.) We re-checked in the hotel we stayed earlier, got prepped for dinner and it was out to Gurney Drive, roughly 20 minutes away. The first thing you'll notice is the congestion, long lines stretching from the beginning of the road till the very end. Then, you'll see the row upon row of shops, hotels and restaurants. My kind of town. Parking space was going to be an issue as everyone (I noticed a lot of old women, c'mon, give this poor guy a space to park so that he can eat!) wanted any space. So we found one quite right at the end, and while this is going to pain me greatly, hot damn can G-Milo Girl drive a car. She managed to squeeze her car into a tight spot which would've made some driving instructors green with envy. Dinner consisted of local fare; fried noodles, noodles in soup, and fried stuff. Stuff meaning deep fried chicken skin and squid. Now, the squid, I loved a lot but the chicken skin? Oh, man. The last time I ate chicken skin was KFC's when I was 10. But the minute I bit into it, damn, this is some good skin. Sinfully delicious was the phrase and rightly so. I wonder if my skin is smoother now. Hmm...

On the last day of the holiday, we woke up early, and headed towards the bus station to get tickets for me and Waffle Girl home as G-Milo Girl had to stay back for work commitments. It's never easy to say goodbye so we tacitly agreed to not talk about it instead focused our attention to make the last day as good as it can be. So we chatted in the hotel room's floor, crossing our legs and start regalling each other about our experiences. It was nice but what made it more intimate was to see how close the bond between Waffle Girl and G-Milo Girl had. It was special even though I know Waffle Girl would beg to differ since according to her I only saw a miniscule of it. I can only hope that my own friendship with them would be even a smidgen as good as theirs. As we finally parted ways at the bus station, I could see sadness but also happiness between the two girls as they embraced each other tightly. Words fail me. Folks, this is what real friends are all about.

The trip not only recharged the mind and body, it also recharged the spirit. I am already looking forward to the next adventure.

This is Chris, signing off.

* = I still love you, Penang. I mean, 30 cents parking? Unbelievable!

** = For that, thanks be to Sifu. Worry not, I will find a way back home if I was stranded in Penang because of your clear and concise directions.

PS: As you may already know, I don't post 2 entries in the same week let alone in 2 days but I felt compelled to get this story out. At least it's better than doing work.

Nearly heaved my breakfast out. Got sunburnt. Almost froze to death. Man, I wanna do all that again!

Phew...

I haven't even changed from the smelly clothes I'm in but here I am blogging about the holiday I just came back from. You want to know why?

Cos it was damn fun, man.

Let me explain: my colleague and her best friend were planning a trip to an island called Langkawi, Malaysia's version of Hawaii minus the Alohas, half naked Polynesian women and flame-throwing, grass-covered males. So I jokingly said to my colleague, Waffle Girl, can I join? That was about two months ago. Then one fine day last month or so, she comes back to me and says, hey, remember that trip I told you about? Would you like to join us? I immediately said, urm, you do know that I was just kidding? Do you want to go or not, she said. If you're really, really, really, sure about this, I'm in. She shrugged, smiled, and said, we're absolutely fine and we'll be at the beach and you know what that means.

Which sane man would've said no?

Thus, four days ago I spent my first holiday of the year with two chicks. We had a blast, right from the get go. It started on the ferry ride as we nearly heaved towards the island. It was horrendous. I had to summon all my energy and mental strength in order to keep myself from heaving my breakfast of 5 eggs onto the front passanger. Yoga practitioners would've been proud of me. And when we reached the island we checked into the dinkiest hotel on the island, dropped our luggage and headed out on our first adventure. The weather was blazing hot while the humidity was sensationally, urm, humid. We explored the island, took pictures while I posed for them like an escapee from a mental institution and ate and ate and ate everything on sight. Then came dinner which was a feast big enough to feed double our number. I swear to you, them prawns were as long as Waffle Girl and her best friend, G-Milo Girl (don't ask), arms! So after stuffing our faces with delectables island-inspired dishes, we went to the only reggae-themed bar on the island, Babylon Mat Lounge. Now, I'm not a fan of reggae at all but the ambience and the beautiful company made the music sound great. Don't worry, I won't do dreadlocks. I won't go into detail as to what entirely transpired so I'll just skip to the end and say that when it came time to depart, a big sigh of sadness was released as we waved goodbye to the island. Oh, before I forget, the damn ferry back home was freezing cold. Even some English folk that were with us were cold. Brrr! Lastly, when it came to go on our own ways, the sadness multiplied tenfold as it had been an incredible time albeit a short one. But we know we're going to see each other pretty soon*.

It's funny how holidays can change your perception of things as you tend to come back from them a little wiser unless you're a dingbat, of course. You become more aware, more in-tune with yourself and others around you. Especially if you travel with your friends for the first time. You'll learn their quirks and their idiosyncrasies, what they like to eat, what they do when they sleep (sorry for the snoring, I swear, I didn't know I did), but at the end of it you learn to really appreciate their company. And that is what made this trip even more special; friends help you but great friends are there for you. If that doesn't make you humble and appreciative of them then I don't know what will.

The last four days have been mightily interesting and satisfying, to say the least. In some ways, it was like the Amazing Race: we hopped from one island to another within 24 hours. (Okies, it was 2 islands, but we did do the hopping.**) It was hectic. It was moist. It was draining.

But most of all it was helluva fun!

Thank you, Waffle Girl and G-Milo Girl, for this great trip. And if I seemed quiet at some parts, my sincerest apologies. I just wanted to savour the moments where I got to be with the two of you. Also, thank you for entertaining this clown at times as I know I've enlightened you two more about me. I can now get struck by lightning knowing that I slept in the same room with two gorgeous women. 

W00t!

This is Chris, signing off.

* = I took G-Milo Girl's stuff by accident. So, yeah, I have to give it back to her. Tee hee.

** = Actually, it all started in Penang but I'll save that for the next post.

PS: Deep fried chicken skin should be made illegal. They taste so good but so wrong!

Number 18 and counting. Glory, Glory Man United!

Real men don't cry. Sometimes real men do.

I nearly did.

Manchester United drew with Arsenal but that was enough to see them clinch their 18th Premier League title last Saturday. It was one of the best moments of my football life. I may not play the game, but I sure as heck love it!

But the thing that got to me wasn't the end, it was in the 67th minute when a diminutive player from Argentina came off to be replaced. It was emotional, not just for him, he waving to the crowd as though it was his last game, but to all who watched him in person and on the telly. Carlos Tevez may not be as prolific as a goal-scorer he was once when he first started out but his ebullience, tenacity and never-say-die attitude has made him a much loved character to the Old Trafford faithful. All I can say is, keep the bugger. He is worth it. And if Lady Luck has a sense of humour, she'll make sure he punishes Manchester United were he to play for another club. I'm sure of it.

Besides that, while Wolverine was a complete bore and utter disappointment, Angels & Demons was surprisingly good. Tom Hanks for once didn't annoy me with his nasally voice, he actually endeared his character to me. Not bad, Forrest! And, of course, Ayelet Zurer is what a woman is: beautiful, strong and smart. Ooh la la.

Also, I'll be going on my first holiday of the year. Yes, before anyone thinks I'm a workaholic (only if the job is worth it) I thought I might as well unwind a little, especially since the last few months have been trying. I so can't wait to get me some, in my humble opinion, deserved rest and relax.

Here's to better weather and no more cases of H1N1!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Star Trek is absolutely friggin' brilliant!

Bye bye, my friends.

You never really feel the sadness until it finally comes.

The last month or so has brought many departures. It's never easy to lose a colleague, especially a dear one, to another company because you feel, why are they leaving? Did I smell that bad? After awhile you get used to it and working life* goes on. But the spirit of the team is no longer the same. The camaraderie has now been replaced with silence and instant messaging.

So, this post is dedicated to those who've left for much, much better pastures. I would like to thank my two seniors, my brothers Einstein and Jyaki, for teaching me everything I know and helping me to bullshit my way to where I am now. I hope you two boys get to do more things than here. And Angie, I'll see you at Rakuzen with 30 helpings of salmon sashimi.

Good luck to all and may your future be bright.

If you'll excuse me, it's back to the hellhole. Till 3.30pm!

This is Chris, signing off.

* = Working life is not the same as life. Err. Yep.

PS: The weather is so friggin' hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooot!!!

WolveDUD

Poor Hugh Jackman. Looks like he has to wait yet again for that one movie to take him way above the top.

Wolverine was a dud.

It lacked emotion. It lacked a sense of urgency. Most of all, it lacked rage beyond rage. The only solid thing of the movie was Jackman's incredible muscularity. That, my friends, is what many of us aspiring gym rats aspire to be. But enough of the man praise. Even with his much improved acting skills, he couldn't bring out the suffering, anger, funny and sadness of the character. It probably has to be said that he had to make do with a patchy script as well as some dodgy directing. Bryan Singer, where are you?

But if you're still going to watch this, don't let my comments detract you from doing so. After all, it's good entertainment IF you don't overanalyse it the way I did. Seeing them adamantium claws slicing through things is a lot of fun!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: The lack of blood was kind of weird. Damn the PG13 guidelines!

Guess work can only take you so far.

If I were to give you a task, say, baking a cake, you would most probably be scratching your head. Bake a cake? Me? I don't even know how to turn on the oven. But you give it a go nonetheless. A simple chocolate cake. After all, the end product is something edible and hopefully won't poison me.

Would you like it if I gave you a picture of a chocolate cake and asked you to come up with something similar to it in terms of taste and look? Wait, scrap that something similar bit. I want you to come up with a chocolate cake that looks exactly to the picture in terms of taste and look. How's about that?

What the fucking fuck?!

Would you like it if I gave you something to do but with nary a guide or a pointer, would you like it? You'd probably lambaste me to kingdom come! You really don't care, eh? You really think of me as a lackey boy, always ready to be whipped on the behind just when things go awry? So what if the cake doesn't look like yours, hell, you think I'm the kind of person who does half-bake jobs? (Pardon the pun.)

You then blame me for not asking you how to do it when in the first place you were the one who was supposed to provide me with at least the basic directions. You want my help yet you don't even know how to be courteous enough by giving me tips. This is worse than being selfish; this is plain insidious.

At the end of the day, I just don't have the same ingredients as you, my chocolate is probably not as good as yours. You could be using freaking Godiva while here I am using RM2.00 Cadbury chocolate that's a month shy of expiring.

So what we have here now is a chocolate cake that resembles yours but still isn't quite right. Is it my fault? Maybe. Maybe I should've bugged you to death to help me but I know you. You don't give a shit until shit hits the ceiling.

Do not ever mistake my smile as benignity.

I might just do something really unfortunate to you.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I am going to deadlift 80kgs this week, damnit!

It's not just a game...

It really is more than that.

A game is not just a game, especially if you're willing to forgo normal sleeping hours in order to catch a match at 3 a.m. and then you have to get to work by 7 a.m.

Sleep is a small sacrifice to pay when you're supporting the greatest football club in the world, Manchester United.

While the team may have lost a potential trophy, the spirit and never-say-die attitude will propel them to greater heights.

I, on the other hand, will remain sleepy and cranky till the end of the season.

Gosh, I love football.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Another 2 weeks before Wolverine hits theaters! In the meantime, I shall do my best Hugh Jackman imitation by trying to look as pissed as him.

I have nothing nice to say.

Sigh, another screwed up week is ahead.

Hope yours is better.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Can Manchester United not continue to disappoint me?

Up in flames, they'll be...

...if I had it my way, of course.

Some people just don't deserve to be where they are, yet there they are, sipping on wine bought on money from others' blood and sacrifice. You know these people: they brag, they lie and cheat and they wield a knife to the back of unsuspecting people when it suits their agenda.

I call them swines.

Wait, that's an insult to all cuddly non-pork-destined pigs. These people are parasites; they come, attach themselves to a suitable hosts, suck their vigour and leave them dry and weary when they're done. On to the next victim till they've reached their goals.

I'd like to believe that they will receive their comeuppance, a fitting punishment for their unscrupulous dealings on hapless people who are honest and modest in nature. But we live in a world that is increasingly vicious. It seems that justice is about as common as a man with principles of steel. Its existence is threatened. Greed and jealousy shall be the common denominator from now on.

The corporate ladder never looked so perilous.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: This post is dedicated to all the fighters in the working world out there. You know who you are.

Earth Hour was fun!

Those are my mom's feet.

Actually, I lie.

The skeptic in me is strong with this one. I mean, this has got to be the PR stunt of the year. You have celebrities preaching to us the gospel of Save the World! yet these are the same people with a dozen air-conditioning units, all switched on at the same time.

Here's a great idea: why not have Earth Day? You know, switch off everything. Or at the very least, all your PCs, TVs, brain, whatevers. Let's see if all the celebs would want to do this. (Maybe Leo DiCaprio and Al Gore would love the idea. Never say never.) I exaggerate but c'mon, 1 hour, once a year to tackle a problem that's going to take years to turn around? The symbolism is nice but it will hardly make a difference.

My family was one of the very few in the neighbourhood that actually turned all the lights off, lit candles, tried our luck and not trip over anything. Besides, only two other households were the same as us. That makes it a grand total of three out of nearly two dozen. The rest went about like just any other day. Who can blame them for their ignorance? Humanity has been on the cloud of lethargy that when something so significant, something that literally change their lives utterly, it whooshes by them like a morning zephyr. Kids are still throwing garbage on the roads, old men are still spitting on sidewalks, people are still smoking in non-smoking areas, the piles and piles of rubbish is rising higher than mountains, the list of how we are damaging, nay, destroying the world is terrifyingly big.

How can an hour hope to bring an awakening to people who don't even know their little actions are the ones that is slowly but surely snuffing the life of Earth? The ignoramuses can be pardoned to a certain extent, but it is those who don't give a damn, the ones that really don't care and won't do jack shit, now, they are the ones who are causing the most harm.

My hat (if I had, it would be a fedora in black with red trimmings) goes out to the people who give it their all to trying to make this world a better place. These are the real heroes, not celebrities or politicians who more often than not pretend to care.

I can only hope upon hope that people will one day wake up and realise how fucked this planet is and that they'll try to make a difference. I really do.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: What did you do during that one hour?

"Organic" is a dirty word.

Before I go on, I have to profess:

I love organic stuff.

I love organic raisins, organic tomatoes, organic avocados, organic noodles and so forth. I like 'em all. Heck, if you told me these odd-looking shrimp you're handing me is organic and free-range and these same shrimp were able to swim around an organic-certified pond, I'd devour them without a moment's hesitation. Pass me the salt, though.

The sudden influx of all things organic in Malaysia didn't happen overnight. It's been a long time coming. Previously, the only organically-grown things we could get was herbs in a small flower pot. There are now small shops specialising in organic food springing up everywhere; every mega shopping centre has now at least one dedicated shop. At the very least, there'll be a small section in the supermarket. And people don't seem to mind that the cabbage they could get at the wet market is but a tenth of the price they just paid at the organic shop. Prices have gone down significantly, but 8 types of grain bread with Mongolian rye at RM10 a pop?

People who exclusively consume organic products are simply put, wankers. They're like vegetarians, only much worse. So much worse. Whereas a vegetarian will politely decline a serving of salad with dressing that contains the merest traces of garlic or GASP! onions, the organic wanker will furiously debate with you the virtues of free-range chickens, the taste of veggies free from pesticide, and why your salad tastes like dog poo. At this point, physical violence seems justifiable...

Growing up on Malaysian food means only one thing: it is the best in the world. It may not look pretty at times, (rojak comes to mind) but it sure as hell tastes divine. Can you imagine our staples such as roti canai, char kuey teow and nasi lemak all substitued with organic food? I can't and I won't.

You are what you eat and right now I want me a chicken sandwich. Organic, naturally.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Who's gonna do this? I'll turn of the TV, PC and whatnot but I'll leave the fan on. It's so friggin' hot!

Please excuse me for a while, I need to mourn.

Despondency may be a fancy word but it fully encompasses what I'm feeling right now. Why?

Look no further than these here links:

Sportinglife
Times Online
Guardian
ESPNSoccernet

But due praise must be said when it is deserved. Liverpool, you were definitely the better team contrary to what The Gaffer might say.

However, winning battles don't win titles. You have to win the war.

I sound like am asinine fiction writer.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I want to eat salmon, damnit!

I nearly killed two boys.

*this post was written last year and is only being published now after I forgot to publish it.

I had just gotten my car back from the nearby workshop after it had spent the day there for a check-up. I thanked the boy who delivered the car to my house, sent him back to the workshop and promptly went home. I can go for my evening jog! The day all of a sudden took on a new colour, from the blazing orange-yellow hue of the sun to the gloom, grey of rain clouds signalling that rain is eminent (it never happened). About 15 metres away from the junction to my house, I slapped on the indicator, to indicate the other road users that hey, I’m going to turn in here. Seeing that the opposite car was a good distance away from me, and knowing that behind there wasn’t any car or an old grandma with a pram, I pulled my steering wheel to the right.

Out of nowhere, I look up to see not one but two boys, both without helmets, centimetres away from me. The rider swerved his motorcycle just in the nick of time. If he had ridden a little faster, even a mere kilometre faster or so, both he and his friend would have ended up on the tarmac, their blood staining the ground red (though, the worst part would be that I would have to wash it off my car). Shocked I was at first, but the feeling was soon replaced with a sigh of relief and a rising anger. I managed to compose myself in time, gave them a look that said, “You two are very lucky,” otherwise my door would have rather fetching indentations bearing a striking resemblance to their faces and darn it I’ve got to go to the workshop again. They looked at me with a look that said,”What the hell,” flashed me a derisive smile and rode off.

Honestly, even though I was still shivering when I got down from the car and recounted the tale to my mom, my anger far surpassed all other initial feelings.

The newest trend for motorcyclists is the weave-in-between, whereby they would go right in the middle of the road and speed off. Not only is this extremely dangerous, the rider could fall down inexplicably, but for motorists on either of the side of the road, it could prove fatal. I’ve seen children as young as 10 riding motorcycles far bigger than their tiny bodies, their hands barely reaching the handles. And they always seem to travel in a group, sometimes as many as four children on a single motorcycle.

Where are the parents? Why are the parents not keeping an eye on their children? Of course, I’m being unfair by putting the blame squarely on the parents. It’s not their fault that their children are such fine examples of humanity.

Is it fair for us car drivers to be in constant vigilant mode whenever we drive? Like, duh. But is it fair for us to be mortally afraid whenever we’re behind the wheel, praying before embarking on a journey, hoping that the road won’t chuck us with a potentially heart-stopping situation involving, what else, motorcyclists?

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Watchmen, while brilliantly brought to the big screen with some of the best-looking visuals I've seen in a long time, didn't really present its theme of peace at all costs as strongly as I hoped it would. I gave up on the book when I first read it, but I'll definitely revisit it some day.

I look like a misshapen egg.

February came and went like a thunderstorm decimating everything in its path.

Including my hair. I look like this here fella. If only I had the money to boot...

Last month was filled with one incident after another. It was one problem right after the other and while it may look trivial now--petty even--when those things happened it brought back painful memories. I put on a smiling face whenever I was in the office, but only a select few knew what was really going on. Even then they only knew the surface; the bottom was too deep for any of them.

If only that happened every month! (Every month when I work, that is!)

I could do without the drama, of course. I would love to go in work, do my job, get home, sleep and repeat the brutal cycle the next day. Without feeling like a complete wreck. What's the point of going to bed dreading what's to come?

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: 2 in the bag, 3 more to go. Come on, Red Devils!

Ah, that good ole feeling.

I'm trying to read 3 books at once, as can be seen on the right-hand side of the screen. And I remember them! Mostly, anyway. More on this later.

Last week was a thoroughly tiring week. It was a week where I really wanted to get out of the office as early as possible but couldn't. In fact, I ended up being in the office for 12 hours, 3 days in a row! While I know that some of you and many others have experienced this, for me to do that many hours is something unusual considering the situation I'm in. It may sound trivial to those who've worked those hours, some on a constant basis, but this is my blog so I'm going to rant as much as I want.

Phew.

Back to the beginning: it's been a long time since I've had this much fun reading 3 books at once, no less! I normally have to be in the right mood and frame of mind before I can even open a book but the last few days have been nothing but literary goodness. It also does help that football tends to start at 0130 so I have time to kill till kick-off.

Have a productive week ahead.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: NEVER, EVER deadlift with your back curved. Lest you want to walk like a disoriented crab.

It was the pimple that did it.

How was your Valentine's?

Good?

Bad?

Or was it just another day?

I guess most of you know by now that I'm not one to "celebrate" such things (here's my post on Valentine's, in case you've forgotten), since they're so highly commercialised to the point of ad nauseam. What? Do I really need to buy a dozen roses to prove my love? Do I need to feed her one of my meatballs (not that kind of meatball) to show that I care for her wellbeing? Why do I need to prove anything at all when I view that every day with her as my partner is enough?

I guess I'm being my normal cantankerous self. After all, why would a guy in a relationship rant about Valentine's anyway? No, I'm a single guy who happened to spend 14th February with 3 other singletons. But it wasn't all lugubrious or laden with emo-like temper tantrums. It was FUN and quite filling, too.

The day started pretty well, dropped my family off at my aunt's place, drove to the increasingly saccharine-filled shopping centre known simply as The Curve. The sun was blazing and while I was sweating profusely, not-so-decently clad girls could be seen clutching, clinging or hanging on to dear life to their beloved. Quite a number of girls in groups (more like packs of marauding wolves) without partners could be seen as well. Cue armpit sweat stains on shirt upon face-to-face with a chick. Went to the gym, blasted out one exercise after another and finally went on to meet my friends. When everyone arrived, pandemonium broke out; no, we didn't exactly torture innocent bystanders with our wit, but our brazen ways got the better of us and we burst out laughing at basically everything, at decibels more commonly heard at rock concerts, from food not reaching the mouth (guilty party here) and to the most golden of observations:

All breasts are tender.*

That outing further proves my point that when good company with good chemistry coupled with good food (albeit bloody expensive!) are at hand, good times are a sure bet. Sure, it would've been great to have been with a significant other on Valentine's but I absolutely have no complaints about spending it with my friends.

Here's to the next outing, guys.

* = My Russian friend said this gem in the most deadpan of voices when our friend's meal of chicken breast with fancy cherries arrived. It was a massive LOL moment.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: If you're puzzled (or slightly put-off) with the title, it goes like so: there was this rather fetching girl who kept looking at me whilst me and my friends were lining up to have our super pricey dinner. Even my friend noticed it. Turns out she was looking at me, however, it wasn't my face, but the large pimple on my chest.

Life can be so cruel.

5 (un)lucky people will know me much better...

This comes all the way from Nadia.

“The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me! My choice. For you.

This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

1. What I create/pull out from my magic hat will be just for you.
2. I make no guarantees that you will like what I make! (In other words, just appreciate it!)
3. You will receive your item before the end of the year (or sooner). I will do my utmost best to achieve it.*
4. You will have no clue what the item/thing is going to be. It could be a knitted pair of socks, a heart-shaped hammer, even fried noodles in the mail (packed tightly, for sure). Keep in mind that it could mean anything that my sometimes demented mind chooses to bestow upon you.
5. I reserve the right to conjure up the most ludicrous of items. What's life without a little fun?

The catch? Ah, the catch is that you have to repost this meme and make and send out five surprises of your own.”

So, what are you waiting for?

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I think I only have, like, 3 readers who would actually comment here so I'll just make up plans as I see fit.

* = This meme actually scares me. I'm not sure if I'll able to keep to my word. In the event that I do not keep to my word, you may kick me in the derriere. Once only, though!

2009 - January - WOW

How's everyone been? Hopefully the Year of the Ox started well for you.

Because mine is starting out to be the best year of my adult life.

And my worst.

The last month of the year of the Rat (my Chinese Zodiac year! w00t!) which was January brought me much experiences. Some very good and some very, very bad. I started the year literally doing nothing. I had just recovered from the flu (three years in a row I got sick on New Year's!) and I was at home when most were out ushering in 2009.

But I didn't give a damn, I just wanted to sleep.

Fast forward a few days, my colleagues and I had to pull out all the stops for our company's annual dinner. The theme was Caribbean, a theme yours truly campaigned for with utmost vigour (I have a flowery shirt). It was a mad time; I had to juggle increasing amounts of work (some were conveniently dumped on me and my team-mate) plus helping out with the preparations. And it didn't help that the steering committee was reduced to 4 persons after an initial 10. I'll skip the boring bits and go straight to the end: on the big day itself, I finally made a very important decision:

I am not going clubbing on my own accord ever again.*

I absolutely abhor everything about it: the perpetual non-rhythmic beats of "music"; the excessive drinking where you're labelled a teetotaler by a bleeding drunkard just because you can only drink a sip of beer. I loathe dimly lit places reeking of vile cigarette smoke where you have to squint your eyes and shout to your friend, "Where's the loo?" (Never say never, but for now, I'd much rather hang out at a café, sipping a nice cup of hot green tea with some dear friends.)

Just when I thought people who are absolute assholes couldn't possibly get any worse, they do! If you're going to lie, make perfectly sure you do not get caught. If you say you're sick, then at least cover it up properly! Don't do things that allow your cheats and deceit so glaringly obvious. The only positive, the one thing that is keeping me from unleashing bloody murder, is that I am learning how to deal with this nonsense so that in the future I can bodyslam any idiots who pull this stunt when I reach managerial level.

I'm not one to brag, but I think my little cousins look up to me. Or at the very least, like me. Maybe it's because I treat them as children, but not in that typical condescending way of "Who's a little cutey cutey?" It's difficult to explain, but whatever it is, I now feel duty-bound in helping them to develop into fine young gentlemen and hopefully impart to them good points of life.

Every end of the month from now on I will recap the month. I've left out some incidents, naturally, because rekindling the memories would just be painful, but rest assured I've recovered from the hurt.

Enjoy the weekend!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I so need a haircut.

* = Truth be told, something totally out of character happened. Something that would make the future me a bit ashamed of. However, the experience and the wisdom gained is, beyond any shadow of a doubt, invaluable.

Happy Chinese New Year 2009

Hey folks, hope everyone is doing fine.

I've nothing witty to post. Nothing in the way of a whiny rant as per usual. Just a shout out to all to have a very Happy Chinese New Year.

See you next week.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: And to all my foes, well, Happy Chinese New Year, too.

If you're going to dance in the club, wear shoes.

Cats should never be allowed to dance with hardcore kids.

The day that I get married, there will be dancing.

Just don't expect me to bust a move.

Such an intrepid pronouncement can only mean one thing: I tried to dance, or at best, boogey, the other night. At a club. Someplace I normally avoid like a bad case of stinky tofu. My 'dance moves' can be best described as a cross between a fish out of water and a person who just underwent hip replacement surgery. A professional dancer would probably hyperventilate at the mere sight of me swinging my hips to the beat. And speaking about beats, I'm still partially deaf from all the club music. How do people do this week in, week out? Shouldn't they be wearing hearing aids by now?

But why was I in a club in the first place, on my own volition no less? Because my company just had its annual dinner and yours truly was also part of the organising committee. (Massive credit should go to the other three members for they were fantastic to work with. You know who you are.) Company outings tend to be a case of jack-in-the-box, you never really know what might pop out. And on that night, what popped out may even be too hair-raising even for the seasoned party-goers. It was so surreal, so much so I thought to myself that this is like a warped episode of The Office (the original one), replete with me and my friends acting like total dunces.

It's kind of strange watching your colleagues, especially your seniors, letting it all loose and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Earlier in the day they were busy fine-tuning the memory settings of a particularly lousy system but now they're trying to get as much food and drink. Managers who have the most sedated countenances ever were shouting and heckling and toasting like there was no financial crisis put the younger ones in their place. Heck, even the nerdier (for lack of a better word) persons were unlading the crazies on the dancefloor.

Goes to show that even the sturdiest can have a loose screw. Or two. Or three.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I can't do the limbo rock for nuts.

Goodbye 2008, hello to more procrastination!

The first week at work after the Christmas and New Year holidays is always the hardest. More often than not, the body may be dressed up in work gear but the mind is still in shorts mode. But enough of such enmities, it's time for the first meme of 2009! I so love memes. They're so...memelicious.

Hmm...

The What the Heck You're Up to Now meme:

Where is your cellphone? Somewhere. I hope.
Where is your significant other? Next to me. If I had one.
Hair colour? Slightly darker than black.
Your mother? Out with my sisters.
Your father? Look up to the sky. You might see him.
Your favourite thing(s)? My thing. Wahaha! If you're referring to belongings, then it would be too many. But if you're referring to things as things I cherish the most, it would have to be my family, friends and my life.
Your dream last night? Had a nice chat with the personal trainer chick from gym. She was by far the most beautiful sight I will most likely see all year.
Your dream/goal? To rule the world.
Your hobby(ies)? Again, the best things are in three's: working out, having awesome chats with my buddies, enjoying life.
Your fear? Not being liked. Serious!
Where do you want to be in 6 years? Being the boss. To my boss's boss!
Where were you last night? At home.
What you’re not? A girl?
One of your wish list items? For now, a better job.
Where you grew up? In a house with my family.
The last thing you did? Checking this site out for the latest football news.
What are you wearing? Don't worry, I am wearing clothes.
Your TV? Um, downstairs?
Your pet? Never had one, never will.
Your computer? Using it now to do this meme.
Your mood? Insouciant and covetous.
Missing someone? Hmm, crikey! I left my grandma at the arcade. Again!
Your car? It has seats and a steering wheel, the last I remembered.
Something you’re not wearing now? Make-up.
Favourite store? Book stores make me happy the most.
Your summer? It's a perpetual summer here in Malaysia. Sometimes it's all right. Sometimes it's horrid. It's so-so at the moment.
Love someone? Myself, most definitely.
Your favourite colour? Darker black.
When was the last time you laughed? Well, the last time I laughed really loud was in the office last Friday. That was a riot.
Last time you cried? Last Thursday. Me and the guys from office stood outside our building and we talked the most splendid nonsense, ever. It brought tears of joy!
Are you a bitch? I'm more of a bugger. But I can be a bitch when the occasion arises.
Favourite position? Upright.
Favourite past time? Not working.
Are you a hater or a lover? I'm more of a clown. But I'm more of a hater now. I hate Chelsea!
Are you genuine or fake? I'm genuine if I consider you a friend but I'm a fake if you're someone I detest.
Any vice(s)? Miami. Retarded joke aside, my vices would have to be procrastinating, checking out girls when I'm supposed to be working out, checking out girls when I'm supposed to be working.
Pro-life or wire hanger? I believe in the adage of "the punishment should fit the crime".
McCain or Obama? No contest, whatsoever, it has to be Obama.
Pro plastic or natural? Natural, naturally.
Dream job? Not the one I'm having at the moment.

I tag Angie and whoever who wants to do this.

Be nice now, people.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Here's a big shout out to the return of Syar and Nadia. These two ladies are quite possibly the most entertaining writers Malaysia has not seen enough.

Even 2009 is taking its time to get started...

Seriously, the start of this year has been rather slow, lazy even. It's as if 2009 is waiting for 2010 to take over and be the "Good Year".

It's as if 2009 wants to be the lazy one and is hoping that 2010 will be the bright child. And I'm inclined to follow in its footsteps.

Maybe it's just me. After all, last month was where I was the least productive; I simply did not care for work. I just wanted to get through what little working days I had without any fuss so that I could enjoy the off days. My mind was at ease even when the "big" problems reared its ugly, um, rear.

So now the first month of January is upon me, and quite frankly, I don't really see anything that'll make me go, "WOWS," work-wise most especially. But then again, it's my fault. The economic downturn has really put a damper on many a company's plans, so jumping ship right now with the clothes on my back and with nothing else, is pretty much a giant risk. I guess I should stop procrastinating and update my resumé already.

Here's hoping to a somewhat productive, or at the very least, interesting, week ahead.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I still need to get me a new pair of trousers. Curse you, Marks and Spencer, I don't wear 40" trousers!

2009 better be kind to me.

Ho, ho, ho!

How's everyone been? Man, I'm still so stuffed from stuffing my face from the last five days, I feel like a bloated octopus with my tentacles wrapped around a big pipe.

Hmm...

Anyways, Christmas was good. Took my little cousins out and it must be said that seeing them with their big smiles made the absatively horrid traffic jams seem a breeze. ('cept for one stretch where we got stuck for about 10 minutes, moving centimetre by centimetre very painfully slow, and with the sun blazing it sort of baked my legs.) Since my own childhood wasn't exactly the rosiest, this is the best I can do to make up time for all the non-happenings during those bleak years. And I now banish any notion that I was a heavy eater back when I was the village pudgy boy. My cousins ate more and faster than I ever did when I was their age. And they're like friggin' sticks! That talk back! Argh!

It must be said that the commercialisation of Christmas and other religious celebrations has become something so big that the other races have joined in the fun to cash in the bonanza. Heck, the other races are more excited than those who actually celebrate their respective celebration. Take my office for example: the Christians in my office were generally laidback leading up to Christmas, while most regarded Christmas as a welcome break from the exigencies of work. But my Big Boss, a staunch Buddhist, was the merriest of us all; he played Christmas carols, old Christmas ditties to even techno versions. I've never heard Little Drummer Boy with so much bass in my life.

In less than a month's time, the Chinese will celebrate their New Year. The cycle will repeat itself again. I'll take my family out again, get stuck in traffic jams and smile all the way. Because being with the family beats being in the office, tinkering away at systems and diagnostics and such.

The new year is fast approaching and as I leave 2008, I can't help but wonder, how the hell did I survive all the shit and nastiness of it all? But I'm also grateful that I managed to get through all the muck and grit, and in the end, emerged (rather scathed, I must say) with invaluable experience and wisdom.

Here's to a fruitful and less migraine-inducing 2009. Have a good week ahead!

This Chris, signing off.

PS: Happy New Year to all!

Dear Santa, I've been a good boy. So where's my new job?

Wazzzzzzzzzzzup, me peeps!

Oright, oright. I've just downed some pretty unsavoury tasting organic oats, all of which were done in the effort of being healthier, so pardon my rather uncharacteristic opening line.

Hate to say this, but time sure does fly,eh? Especially when the last 3 months or so have been the most interesting out of the entire year. Good and bad happened, along with the really bad so it's only natural that I look back at it all and think to myself, how the hell did I survive all that shit? Seriously, how did I end up writing this when not long ago I had murder bloody murder coursing through my veins?

I exaggerate, but you get my drift, yes? Work's been going down the crapper ever since people started becoming more and more greedy, selfish and downright lazy. And that's just the people I don't have any direct work with. They'll get what they deserve, that's for sure. Cupid's been shooting his arrows at everyone around me except, of course, me. The git. Life, in general, has been like the months when the stock market went cuckoo; lots of downs but there were a few bailouts in between. However, I'm hoping and having my fingers crossed long enough before osteoporosis sets in, that 2009 won't be as bleak like how the world's economy and wellbeing is when the new year arrives.

But let's get into something more salubrious, for instance, my 2008 resolution list!

1. To be a better person.
2. Enjoy life with family and friends.
3. Work hard and play harder.
4. Save the planet. One plastic bottle at a time.
5. See Dream Theater in concert.

Comments:

1. Still a work in progress.
2. Still a work in progress. Haha!
3. Still a work in progress. Hahaha!
4. Still a work in progress. Hahahaha!
5. Done! Saw one of my favourite bands live in concert on the 17th of January this year. It was one of the best days of my life, EVER.

In all seriousness, this year has been absolutely topsy turvy. If you've kept up with the recent posts, you'd know what I mean exactly. I can honestly say that I've grown up a lot this year. I'm still the bumbling buffoon but with one big difference:

I look cool. Oh, so damn cool. Tee hee!

Anyways, since 2009 isn't that too far off, (mmm, Christmas chicken, mmm...) I might as well come up with my resolution list. Here goes:

1. Get a better job.
2. Be a much better person.
3. See another band in concert. Preferably here. Singapore is expensive.
4. Go on holiday.
5. Get back to playing guitar.
6. Improving my (still rather rubbish) Chinese language skills.
7. Get a better job. Hmm, didn't I mention that already?

I guess that's about it. To everyone, regardless if you celebrate it or not, have a very blessed and Merry Christmas. Don't eat too much turkey, now.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: This is definitely not the last post of 2008, so be sure to check back next week for the last one!

Crisis? What cri$i$?

I love shopping.

But I also hate it, not shopping, per se, but the other people who are in the vicinity as I when I shop, 'cept for the cute girls at the lin...I mean, food courts. By the way, has anyone else noticed that our food courts are becoming more and more, um, shiny? The majority of the food still sucks, that's no different, but have you been into one lately? They're really sparkly!

It really amazes me that while governments are busy trying to bailout their respective catastrophes, the people, at least over here, are nonchalant about it. Practically oblivious to the fact that if their government doesn't react fast enough, they'll be the first to suffer its effects. And then they'll moan and groan, cursing at the government and the leaders, why? WHY MUST I SUFFER? Ooo, chocolate doughnut. Yum.

I reckon that most are dimwits. Wake up! Whatever that is being fed into your sorry excuse for a mind should always be taken a with a pinch of salt. (A small one, yeah.) Believe not everything you see on the idiot box...

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Christmas shopping still ongoing. Gonna get me a new pair of trousers! Tee hee!
PPS: BUSH, you da man for ducking the shoe attack!

I so want to go to Egypt.

I'm just so thrilled right now.

Yes, it's a moody Monday morning. The sky opened up in the wee hour that was 4 a.m. Sleep should be good. Then, the sound of an alarm could be heard. Lookie, it's 615 a.m. While most are still probably in their comfy beds, clutching their pink bolsters, I'm here in the office. The friggin' office. On a public holiday.

ARGH...!

Anyhow, I reckon I might as well do some "work" (hehehehe) and earn me some extra $. And since I have all the time in the world, I might as well do this rather interesting meme that has been bequeathed to me by Angie.

Pretending to do work, FTW!

___________________________________________________________

RULES:
Do the “Letter MEME”. Tag no less than 5 other people, and leave them a comment, informing them that they have been tagged. Then copy the “How-to” Letter Meme, and finish your Journal entry.

-> How you do the Letter Meme:

Dear ________(the last person who left a comment on your blog/journal):

I don’t really know how to tell you this, but ___1___. I think I realized it ___2___ ___3___ and I saw you ___4___ ___5___. I’m sure you’re ___6___ enough to understand ___7___. I’m returning ___8___ to you, but I’ll keep ___9___ as a memory. You should also know that I ___10___ ___11___ .

___12___,
-Your name-

Basically just fill in the blanks on top based on the answers you are gonna choose below. ( I will put my result at the bottom of this entry =) )

1. What’s the color of your shirt?
Blue - Our romance is over
Red - Our affair is over
White - I’ll join the monastery
Black - I dislike you
Green - Our horoscope doesn’t match
Grey - You’re a pervert
Yellow - I’m selling myself
Pink - Your nostrils are insulting
Brown - The mafia wants you
No shirt - You’re a loser
Other - I’m in love with your sister

2. Which is your birth month?
January - That night
February - Last year
March - When your dwarf bit me
April - When I tripped on sesame seeds
May - First of May
June - When you put cuffs on me
July - When I threw up
August - When I saw the shrunken head
September - When we skinny dipped
October - When I quoted Santa
November - When your dog ran amok
December - When I changed tennis shoes

3. Which food do you prefer?
Tacos - In your apartment
Pizza - In your camping car
Pasta - Outside of Chicago
Hamburgers - Under the bus
Salad - As you ate enchilada
Chicken - In your closet
Kebab - With Paris Hilton
Fish - In women’s clothing
Sandwiches - At the Hare Krishna graduation
Lasagna - At the mental hospital
Hot dog - Under a state of trance
None of the above - With George Bush and his wife

4. What’s the color of your socks?
Yellow - Hit on
Red - Insult
Black - Ignore
Blue - Knock out
Purple - Pour syrup on
White - Carve your initials into
Grey - Pull the clothes off
Brown - Put leeches on
Orange - Castrate
Pink - Pull the toupee off
Barefoot - Sit on
Other - Drive out

5. What’s the color of your underwear?
Black - My best friend
White - My father
Grey - Bill Clinton
Brown - My fart balloon
Purple - My mustard soufflé
Red - Donald Duck
Blue - My avocado plant
Yellow - My penpal in Ghana
Orange - My Kid Rock-collection
Pink - Manchester United’s goalkeeper
None - My John F. Kennedy-statue
Other - The crazy monk

6. What do you prefer to watch on TV?
Scrubs - Man
O.C. - Emotional
One Tree Hill - Open
Heroes - Frostbitten
Lost - High
House - Scared
Simpsons - Cowardly
The news - Mongolic
Idol - Masochistic
Family Guy - Senile
Top Model - Middle-class
None of the above - Ashamed

7. Your mood right now?
Happy - How awful I’ve felt
Sad - How boring you are
Bored - That Santa doesn’t exist
Angry - That your pimples are at the last stage
Depressed - That we’re cousins
Excited - That there is no solution to this.
Nervous - The middle-east
Worried - That your Honda sucks
Apathetic - That I did a sex-change
Ashamed - That I’m allergic to your hamster
Cuddly - That I get turned on by garbage men
Overjoyous - That I’m open
Other - That Extreme Home Makeover sucks

8. What’s the color of your walls in your bedroom?
White - Your ring
Yellow - Your love letters
Red - Your Darth Vader-poster
Black - Your tame stone
Blue - The couch cushions
Green - The pictures from LA
Orange - Your false teeth
Brown - Your contact book
Grey - Our matching snoopy-bibs
Purple - Your old lottery coupons
Pink - How awful I’ve felt
Other - Your memories from the military service

9. The first letter of your first name?
A/B - Your photo
C/D - The oil stocks
E/F - Your neighbour Martin
G/H - My virginity
I/J - The results of your blood-sample
K/L - Your left ear
M/N - Your suicide note
O/P - My common sense
Q/R - Your mom
S/T - Your collection of butterflies
U/V - Your criminal record
W/X - David’s tricot outfits
Y/Z - Your grades from college

10. The last letter in your last name?
A/B -
C/D - Never will forget
E/F - Always wanted to break
G/H - Never openly mocked
I/J - Always have felt dirty before
K/L - Will tell the authorities about
M/N - Told in my confession today about
O/P - Was interviewed by the Times about
Q/R - Told my psychiatrist about
S/T - Get sick when I think of
U/V - Always will try to forget
W/X - Am better off without
Y/Z - Never liked

11. What do you prefer to drink?
Water- Our friendship
Beer - Senility
Soft drink - A new life as a clone
Soda - The incarnation as an eskimo
Milk - The apartment building
Wine - Cocaine abuse
Cider - A passionate interest for mice
Juice - Oprah Winfrey imitations
Mineral water - Embarrassing rash
Hot chocolate - Eggplant-fetishism
Whisky - To ruin the second world war
Other - To hate the Boston Celtics

12. To which country would you prefer to go on a vacation?
Thailand - Warm regards
USA - Best regards
England - Good luck on your short-term leave from jail
Spain - Go and drown yourself
China - Disgusting regards
Germany - With ease
Japan - Go burn
Greece - Your everlasting enemy
Australia - Greetings to your frog Leonard
Egypt - Fuck off now
France - In pain

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here goes! (Yes, I'm a lazy basturd, I just copied and pasted everything from Angie, even the colours!)

Dear Lia, (the last person who left a comment on your blog/journal):

I don’t really know how to tell you this, but I dislike you I think I realized it first of May, in your closet and I saw you ignore my fart balloon. I’m sure you’re scared enough to understand that I did a sex-change (teh lolz!). I’m returning your Darth Vader poster to you, but I’ll keep your oil stocks as a memory. You should also know that I never will forget the apartment building.

Good luck on your short-term leave from jail,
Chris.

Nice! Of course, I wanted to put in the more "expressive" answers, but that would constitute cheating. So I played it true and I'm pleased with the results. Won't tag anyone in particular, just anyone who wants to have a good laugh doing this.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: And thanks to Angie once again for reminding me of this site, Setanta. Holy laughing daemons, this has been the most hilarious thing I've ever seen. Really. It really has helped me in the last week, making me laugh as opposed to wanting to bash people with my office mug because, you know...

I'm fantastic. Ha!

Oops! I've changed my faith.

I have a love/hate relationship with anything that has the word Sale in it. Underwear sale is an exception. Anyway, today is the first day for the country's now annual Mega Sale.

Yes, my friends, I do shop. Heck, I enjoy it.

Granted, our Mega Sale doesn't hold a candle to Singapore's Super Duper Kiasu Sale but it's better than nothing. It has to be noted that there are more establishments offering some discount, even lesser known brands and such have jumped on the bandwagon. Which means plenty of hurt for the wallet if you do choose to spend, spend and spend.

I'm parsimonious so I'm not affected by the Mega Sale's nefarious rays of persuasion. He. He. (All right, maybe a lil.)

Happy Shopping, people!

Now, I do not believe for a minute (or a damn second) that a person's religious faith can be eroded, or worse, be altered completely when doing yoga. It is preposterous and it's an insult to those who practice it purely for its health benefits. What? Will this stance make me change my religion? Will yoga turn me into a homosexual? I don't think so. I can't even bear to look at myself if I was wearing pink leotards:

Or, maybe, the more zealous ones are afraid that their wives would end up like this:

Gosh, some people really need to wake up from their false sense of utopia.

I need more underwear. Thankfully, there's a Mega Sale going on!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: To those who lost their lives in Mumbai, India, may you Rest in Peace. May the bastards rot in Hell.

I hate people.

Now that I've got your attention, how's you been?

I don't really hate people, I just don't like many of them.

You know in every office there'll be at the very least one village idiot. The one person that can turn your nice day into a nightmare by just uttering a simple sentence.

I really hate it when I'm sitting like 10 metres away from you and you drop me an email, or worse still, you call me for something that I can do in a matter of seconds. If we're on friendly terms, it would be a non-issue. But since you've pissed me and my friends off with your primadonna-like behaviour you'll be treated with equal animosity. And since I've taken a dislike to you right from the very first time I shook your limp hand, I won't be bothered to entertain your request especially if you ask, nay, demand that it be solved ASAP. Who the hell are you? Again, I may come off as a clown at times, but where work is concerned, you can bet your sorry moustached face I take it seriously.

Phew.

Now that's out of my system, I'd like to take this opportunity to wish those who've left the company a bright and prosperous career ahead. You guys are definitely smarter than me.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Seriously, I kinda like Katy Perry.

November rains while December is storming...

I completely and utterly forgot what I really wanted to write about. I had two, maybe three topics I wanted to blab about but now I'm in the office, thinking of lunch.

It's only 0800. Man, I love military time.

November is fast becoming the month where everything goes by quicker because everyone wants December to come soon so that they can jet off to some remote island in the Caribbeans (I so want to wear a leaf skirt*) to soak their weary feet and sip mildly alcoholic drinks. Since I'm pretty much tight with the $, I'll have to settle with somewhere less distant. Either Thailand or Singapore would be very nice. But it's a bit late to book a room and such so I'll think I'll have to content myself with the next best thing: visiting my lovely and awesome grandma.

It's a lot cheaper, too. Ha!

This is Chris, signing off.

* - Hmm, maybe a leaf skirt isn't something I should be wearing.

PS: If they made a movie based solely on the penguins from the atrocity that is Madagascar, I'm so there at the theatre.

It's like trying to pee with your underwear on.

A young girl got up the bus all smiles on a rather moody Monday. She frantically dug her purse for RM1 and when she couldn't produce the money, smiled at the bus driver and the rest of the passengers sheepishly, embarrassed.

Are you, like, bloody dim or something?

I mean, c'mon, you know you're going to board a bus. You know you have to pay for the ride. You know you have to be prepared for such incident because, frankly, you don't just get on the friggin' bus, hoping you'll find RM1 in your damn purse or wherever you put your money in.

Anyway, I'm still lethargic from all the happenings lately; the house is still behind with the contractor being rather slow. Work is stagnant, as usual, but I've two rather big cases to handle, so those are going to keep me occupied until at least the end of this week. After that? Who knows, I might be sent for training.

Yeah, right!!!

Have a productive week ahead.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Losing is one thing, but to lose to a team you absolutely abhor with all your might? Man, it sucks tremendously.

I can't believe it's not December yet.

What an exhausting month October was. Been up and down, down and up. Much like the global economic crisis that happened, minus the bailout.

Oh, I also experienced my first knock to the head. Fell in the good ole bathroom and landed on my left side. For a split second, I thought I was going to blackout. Instead, I got up, laughed and cursed my wretched luck.

Did you know that if you can hear sounds louder at the back of your ear it means that you've a punctured ear-drum? I didn't know that, too, until I visited the doctor. Man, that scared me a lil.

Here's to a cheery and productive November. One thing's for sure, it's going to be a killer on the wallet. Hint: I'm going to be having nice lunches with me friends and I also need new gym clothes (actually, I don't but I feel like buying new ones). And, no, I ain't buying any pink gym shorts!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I so hate our Malaysian escalators. It's so slow I reckon my facial hair gets thicker. Yarp.

It's like jogging with clown pants.

Is it just me or has the world become boring?

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Man, I'm so bored.

Flickr Me

This is the Flickr Meme that I stole from id. Thank you!

• Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
• Using only the first page, pick an image.
• Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into FD’s Mosaic Maker.

The Questions of Light

1. What is your first name?
Chris. I think that’s quite the obvious since this blog is called Chris’s Abnormally Normal Critiques.

2. What is your favourite food?
My mom’s cooking followed closely by a nice big, juicy burger.

3. What high school did you go to?
A crap one. Seriously.

4. What is your favourite colour?
Believe it or not, it’s actually dark blue that’s almost black. On second thought, nah, it's black! But for clothes, it’s either black or dark red.

5. Who is your celebrity crush?

It’s actually a salacious triumvirate of Aya Ueto, Song Hye Kyo and Jessica Gomes. But since I’m a one-woman man and I'm really into this chick, Jessica Gomes, I'm going with her as my current number celebrity crush.

6. Favourite drink?
Rooiboos tea with a bit of honey. Divine, I tells you.

7. Dream vacation?
At this point in time, any Scandinavian country would be fabulous. To a lesser extent, probably some South-East Asian country besides Singapore and Thailand. But honestly, any place where I get to relax would be just dandy.

8. Favourite dessert?
Strawberry pie topped with a lil green tea ice-cream. It's good!

9. What do you want to be you grow up?
Filthy rich.

10. What do you love most in life?
The fact that I can actually get along with humans and still resent them is truly remarkable. Don’t you agree?

11. One word to describe you.
Unusual.

12. Favourite flower?
Urm. A dead one? Just kidding. I wouldn’t say no to a black rose.

The Questions of Darkness


1. What has been your least-favourite nickname?
Fatty. I’ve been “blessed” with a multitude of nicknames but that takes the cake. Literally. On a happier note, those who called me that in school/college are now fatties themselves! Haha!

2. What is your most hated food?
I don’t really have a most hated food, per se, just food I’d rather not eat. For example: offal.

3. What was your worst subject in high school or college?
The one I majored in: Mechanical Drawing. I failed it brilliantly.

4. What colour looks most dreadful on you?
Bright green. Or more commonly known as "that’s gonna bust your eyeballs" green.

5. Which celebrity do you never want to hear about again?
Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, or whichever socialite girl that decides to destroy her life with the public as her audience.

6. What drink gives you the worst hangover?
Most alcohol but the one that gets me all the time would be rice wine. Holy shit, that's some intense stuff.

7. Worst vacation spot?
It wasn’t a vacation, per se, but rather, a school excursion gone bad at the beach. How bad, you may ask? Well, the kitchen and the toilet at the place we were at wasn't that far apart. They were beside each other. And I forgot to bring my towel. Yay!

8. What is your “I’m having a crappy day” stress snack?
Come to think of it, none. But somehow milk would be an ideal choice.

9. What was your worst job?
Too many and too painful to recall. Oh. Well. Might as well just suck it up and reveal to the world: Salesperson.

10. What is your biggest pet peeve?
Cowardice. It’s something I’m guilty of possessing, too This also nicely segues into the next question:

11. One word to describe your most annoying trait.
Silly. Refer to 10. Thank you.

12. What is the first name of the person you like the least?
Nil. I like everyone. Yeah, right! There’re just too many people I dislike!

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Wow, I survived two weeks without football. Amazing!

A storm is brewing and it ain't tea-flavoured.

Okay...that didn't really make much sense but it does sound kind of catchy. Right?

Here's a quick recap of what transpired last week:

• Saw a teenager getting beaten up. I saw the whole thing. The more I wanted to look away, the more I looked. It was surreal. You know that getting a kick in the head would hurt, yeah? Try getting your head kicked at least five times.
• House is under renovation so I've no door to my room which makes it hard to put on trousers when you have, like, four construction workers going back and forth fixing things.
  

I think I'm on the verge of a burnout. A mental one. I can feel that my brain is not there. Y'know what I mean? I tend to ruminate things too often and too deeply nowadays. And I get into a weird reverie where my mind wanders wantonly. I even harbour deep resentment over things I won't divulge here. I find this rather unnerving because I know this isn't good for the soul in the long run.

It's high time I go on a vacation. Any one care to join me?

I promise I won't be crazy. Much.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I hate it when my tummy feels bloated. Blurgh...

Thankfully, I'm not worth $700billion

Wow.

Another week has come and gone so fast, it felt like a personal typhoon blew my mind and left debris of unknown origin on my conscious to clean up. With a tiny spoon.

Just only last Monday, I thought to myself, "I'm gonna kill myself by the end of the week."

I nearly did.

I've just realised that I haven't taken a holiday in nearly a year. The whole week that I was ill last month does not count, by the way. That was suffering. Anyhow, yeah, no holiday whatsoever in the last 10 months or so. I would love to go somewhere, anywhere, even if it were just for a week. I need to clear my mind, not think of the life I lead back home and just live. Get what I mean? I just want to be me.

Chris.

I feel as though I'm going to wind up some lowly-paid, under appreciated, miserable person who goes to work wishing for the time to pass by quick so that he can catch the Sports news on the telly. That would be just too depressing and not to mention a killer on the love-life.

Oh, oh! The first of October marked the anniversary of my one-year of my current employment. Yes, I have not left the company. Yet. So, yays for me!

Have a productive week ahead, y'all. I hope mine will be as well.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Holy smokes! Song Hye Kyo is absolutely beautiful and she was great in My Girl and I. Yes, I actually watched a lovey-dovey out of my own volition.

Bleeding me. And, no, it’s not the Leona Lewis song*.

Oright, my last post was written with a mind that was completely in rage and in a state of utter (I have to say that some were self-inflicted) misery. In other words, I wrote the last post with an unprecedented emo psyche. Thankfully, my mom doesn’t use any black eyeliner, or any eyeliner colour for that matter, so I didn’t look like one of them emo idiots.

The truth was stretched albeit lightly. I apologise.

I’m the kind of person that would rather crack a joke or do silly things just to liven things up. I’d rather see smiles than long faces. In short, I want people to have a good time. (I think sound like a geriatric theme park attendant trying to promote the world’s most boring ride.)

I’ve always known I had a real live one—I’m talking my temper—and as such, I’ve always tried to keep it under wraps, occasionally letting it loose when I’ve either been pushed too far or when I’m in an irritable mood.

There was this incident where my intention was just to get my meal during lunch. That’s all. But I must’ve come across as this rude and practically brutish bastard, as the person who took my order kept giving me, as we say here in Malaysia, the “one-kind” or in plain speak: ‘you pretentious bastard, I’ll give you less noodles’ look—true enough, my noodles were little.

By Friday, I was so numb from all the shit I went through, so much so that I just laughed off some things that otherwise would’ve sent me into a fury. It was either that or be a cranky S.O.B.

So I will leave you beautiful people with this excerpt from the excellent Metallica song, Bleeding Me:

I'm digging my way
I'm digging my way to something
I'm digging my way to something better
I'm pushing to stay
I'm pushing to stay with something
I'm pushing to stay with something better
...with something better...

Once again, I wish you all a very, very awesome weekend. Be happy, always.

* = By golly, she’s molten lava hot.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: To all my Muslim friends, Selamat Hari Raya. May you have a great one.

Everybody Hates Chris. I'm being overly dramatic, by the way...

What an absolutely horrible week it has been. Let me correct that:

It’s been an absolutely fucked up week.

Both my personal and work life was in turmoil. Even my country, the US of A and the world were experiencing a bad week. Heck, even my tummy joined in the action! Urm…

When I crack jokes, or when I’m basically acting myself, people tend to forget that I actually have a serious side. They assume that I’m this jolly, happy-go-fucking-lucky guy and that I would kowtow to their whims when they find it appropriate to their needs. Well, boo-fuck-de-doo, I can be an outright bastard when pushed too far. They take it for granted that I’m a fairly nice guy and I’ll hold the door for you, but if you treat me like dirt, then that door would probably come slamming onto your face. Oops, I didn’t know you were behind me.

It’s as though all the females that I know have experienced some sort of dilemma/crisis this week. My big sis has been clocking 16-hour workdays and it’s about to take its toll on her. I know my colleagues have been swamped with work (Hello! What la your boss…tsk, tsk) of which it’s about to get worse because of the impending holidays. My ex, a wonderful girl whom I still keep in contact with—contrary to what many thought wasn’t possible—has some issues of her own*. I was also not spared from online unpleasantness, as I was on the receiving end of a highly unfortunate conversation that took place with a dear friend**.

But to sum up my week: it’s like thinking that you have a shot with the girl of your dreams. You think, if we get together, we’ll make a great couple. So you formulate your next move, the move that will change your life and hers. Your heart skips two beats whenever you think about her. It’s that beautiful face and that beautiful soul of hers that makes you think it’s all worth while. Guess I’ll make my move, but…then, you see her walking towards you. With her boyfriend. It’s like having a sword cut right through your heart, but you don’t die.

You just end up suffering.

This week, I’ve been angry, disappointed, and happy; all at the same time, for five days straight. I so can’t wait for next week and see what “joy” it’ll bring.

Till then, have a great weekend, people. You deserve it.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Thank you, J, for being the sponge of my idiotic emoness. Thanks for replying all my silly messages on MSN. I greatly appreciate your views. Fill—thanks, man, for listening to me. I guess we’re even now. :)

* = (Hey there, gorgeous, I’m always ready to listen ;-))
** = I know how you feel. I really, really do.

If you’re gonna strut, ya might as well strut with panache – PART TROIS!

Just when you thought I would shut up about stories about the damn gym, here comes part 3 of my now never-ending tales from the gym. Told ya so that I had something up this week. Tee hee!

Onwards, to the gym!

Of chicken meat and chicken legs. The ones I don’t eat.

Some guys have built tops with some impressive and sculpted, urm, tops. But then, when you look down, you’ll see some of the skinniest legs only ugly models would have if they were anorexic. I kid you not! There’s this particular shorty, let’s call him Mr. Horrendous, who has arms bigger than my thighs. And I’m a big guy while he’s about the height of Miley Cyrus. He loves wearing sleeveless tees to expose his overly developed torso. Then when you get to the lower part of the body, you might burst out laughing right away at the sorry state of his chopsticks for legs. To me, if you’re going to workout only the top portion of your body, then you might as well chop off your legs and give them amputees. Honestly, seeing a guy lift a 30kg dumbbell above his head is impressive but he’s absolutely puny when it comes to leg presses of about 60kgs. (My leg presses are now done using 120kg weights. I do them 8-12 times.)

Actually, I hate you more.

As most of you know (actually it should be should know) is that I generally dislike people. The ones that I like are either related to me (even then, I may hate you, just not that much) or have unwittingly allowed their soon to be sorry selves to call me a friend. But I reserve special spite for the Middle-Easterners. Yes, I know this may stir up some controversy. Heck, I might even get thrown into some jail without any sunlight for the next 60 days. Yes, I know that not all Middle-Easterners are greedy, rude, ignoramuses. But what the heck, I hate them! The ones that go to my gym think themselves as gods, or worse, the second coming of Governator Arnold.

We’re all vain. Serious!

What do people who go to the gym have in common besides smelling like horses after working out for 5 minutes? We’re all vain buggers. Yes, you heard me right, please don’t throw that dumbbell. Hear me out first, will you? All right. Why would anyone want to spend their time in a gym, sweat with a hundred other people and then exposing your bum in the locker room? Why would you want to potentially cause great embarrassment to yourself by picking up weights and then dropping them on your toes? Why do people get on the treadmill with their arms flailing all over the place? I’ll tell you why:

We’re narcissistic, vainglorious and we’d like to wear that nice shirt to the wedding of our best mate who’s gone to seed. Actually, we’re shy people with low self-esteem so we’re compensating. Ha, take that Mr. Horrendous!

I think I better stop lest I get a show cause letter, or worse, my blog gets banned for causing inflammatory remarks. After all, no one likes to be called Horrendous, right?

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Kudos to Liverpool for finally beating Manchester United, though, I must say that Man United actually helped your cause, so…..PFFFFFFFFT! Ryan Giggs, you make me sad. And so do you, the current power mongers of my country.

I'm Framing Armageddon

Actually, I'm not.

It's the title of a song I'm currently playing every chance I get. It just screams metal.

Work is boring; same ole, same ole. I go in, clock in my times and I'm outta there. It's wonderful. Really.

I shall leave you now, but I'll be back next week with something.

I hope.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Google's Chrome is badass!