desolation

a few days ago me and an accomplice went to the new favourite-drag-strip-for-the-bengs-and-lians. we went further in and boldly trod where no man had gone before, all in the name of photography.

i was wrong

so wrong

the accomplice

nice shorts

it was a different world inside

nice legs, bitch

sorry, i just couldn't help it

we were promptly assaulted by more special forces mosquitoes than we could count, hence the quick getaway. afterward we found twenty bite marks each. on each calf. that was the one place yim claimed you could slap at one mozzie and kill two.

"hello, bucket."
"piss off, human."

then we headed elsewhere in the same area. those trucks kicked up a sandstorm en route.

a sand bank. literally.

soft and warm sand betwixt my toes
this place was huge

that truck looked microscopic

private race track for the trucks

a tree

same tree

then i came across a mimosa garden. see those spikes on the stem? they were happy where they were, as was i.

very soon they attacked me and we were all extremely unhappy. see those white rings around my ankle? they ain't sand.

took me a good fifteen minutes to get rid of them all

plus time for a tobacco hit

fallout

my, my. aren't you a hardy one.

we took stock of our predicament

dark clouds were closing

so we made a hasty exit

parting shot

this is my life, it's not what it was before
all these feelings i've shared
and these are my dreams, that i've never lived before
somebody shake me cause i, i must be sleeping

these are my words, that i've never said before
i think i'm doing okay
and this is the smile, that i've never shown before
somebody shake me cause i, i must be sleeping

now that we're here, so far away
all the struggle we thought was in vain
all the mistakes, one life contained
they all finally start to go away

and now that we're here, it's so far away
and i feel like i can face the day
i can forgive, i'm not ashamed
to be the person that i am today

discrimination? but of course

yesterday i chanced across these ads at a pharmacy.

now. why are the girl's nipples covered and the guy's exposed? what made this the norm? aren't they biologically identical?

nothing more than social conditioning, people.

the bra. many say its invention was a momentous event for women and a curse for men. i think it is a curse for men, but not in the conventional sense. the invention of the bra weaponised the female body and made it the fodder for all sexual, legislature, and political battlefields. by hollering for attention to the female body, women victimise themselves to the whole world and then say: "see? we're treated this way because all men are animals." then they go around demanding concessions, and we have no choice but to concede or be called chauvinist pigs.

i've seen girls prostitute themselves in front of cameras in a bid to impress guys. and then they wail when guys express their admiration, and call those same guys they're trying to impress pests. are you justified?

when we don't pay attention, we're branded as heartless bastards.
when we do pay attention, suddenly we think with our dicks and we only want one thing.

we're often called colourful names by the "gentler" sex; bastards, sex maniacs, perverts, etc, etc, etc, a million other names. but there're female sex maniacs too; they're called nymphs, or did you think they only exist in our private fantasies? so where do they stand on your holier-than-thou moral list?

just because us guys are more open to the word 'sex' doesn't mean we deserve unwarranted name-calling. society made us this way. how? by merely making sex a taboo subject. we, the more adventurous ones, choose to be curious and talk about it more openly. similarly, society made you think you're the moral superior. why? because you like to think it more than say it?

oh yes, studies out there say girls think about sex as often as, if not more, than guys. what do you make of that? but i'm not going to link them here because:
1. this is my blog, not an information vault.
2. i just cannot be fucking bothered.

how come you can be nonchalant about calling us bastards, but get offended when we call you bitches? what made 'bastard' a less explicit word than 'bitch'?

who's discriminating against whom now?

you scream for women's rights.
then you scream for equality in sexes.
next it's the glass ceiling.
and now you want to revisit the ladies-first era and expect us to pamper you, carry the bags and hold the doors open?
choose one camp, you fickle bitches. and be consistent about it.

we're not equal. we'll never be equal until you bitches get your shit together and stop acting like you're higher and mightier than us on the one hand and expecting piddly little gifts from us on the other.

this is for those women who think they're better than men in any way.
go.
fuck.
yourselves.


this ain't open to discussion. this is my blog therefore i am king. go wail in the straits times if you feel so inclined.

pedos and flicks

recently watched lord of war. fer wanted to watch it with me but fell asleep before the dvd menu came on. lolol. but it's okay, nothing to worry about.

anyway it's very much like thank you for smoking, except it's an autovideography of an arms dealer instead of a glorified cigarette promoter. i loved it, especially the intro, which is the span of life of the average bullet, from the bullet's viewpoint. to bring the message home, the bullet ended its life inside a child freedom fighter's head. nice touch, that.

the film depicts the rise and fall of nicolas cage, à la the arms dealer. well not exactly fall, but if i explain it i'd ruin the show.

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recently got a present.

fer asked if i wanted a pedometer. the first thing that came to mind when i heard that was: is that something that measures how pedophilic you are?

anyway i thought since she already gave it to me i might as well use it.

first time (noon): 6075 steps.
second time (night): 6105 steps.

hang on. how come i take more steps at night than in the arvo? something does not compute here. and i walked more in the arvo too. does that mean i travel farther per walking step as compared to per jogging step?

what a shitty thought.
that bloody thing's broken.
i'll test it again.

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went for mongol last night. it's about genghis khan's childhood life. and he was damn cute as a boy.

not that i'm gay.
or a pedophile.
there's that word again.

anyway moving on, i actually saw the review four months ago on some film festival on tv. i thought it'd already run it's course or wouldn't be shown here, so i went looking for the dvd. took me two months to realise the bloody reel was still on a cargo ship somewhere, on its way here.

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i've recently taken to researching a bit about cars in a bid to do up the pug. i haven't really decided exactly how it'll turn out, but don't expect it to end up like those stupidly loud and garish sports cars, tastelessly modified with bolt-ons and useless bits like racing windscreen wipers.

it's going to be as exciting as a grass-growing competition cause it'll be a five-year-or-longer process, and i'm not going to be a flashy asshole about it and update this blog with constant crap about the car.

so don't hold your breath.

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and i watched fifty dead men walking too. it's about the irish republican army versus the queen's own at the height of their conflict. i read so much about the ira that it was a jolt when i actually saw the way they lived and loved.

guess that's the difference between a book and a flick; the book allows so much room for imagination while the flick only gives you the director's idea of how it should be. hmm, if you look at it that way the book merely shows you the way the author thinks too.

oh well, it wasn't a waste of money. not at all.

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sometimes when i'm looking for something in the house i'd inadvertently think of the 'ctrl' and 'f' buttons on the keyboard.

wouldn't life be convenient if you could find everything using the computer?

glasses found.
cigarettes found.
keys found.
wallet found.

yes it would.

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some people have been commenting on my greatly-reduced blogging frequency. i'd just like to point out that i blog as and when i like, and it's not for anyone's entertainment. what's the point in pounding the keyboard when i have so much more to do? it's not like i haven't got a life here. so don't push me.

i did actually take loads of stupid pics and wanted to upload them onto friendster, but then isn't that site dead? a bit like grooming a dead chimp isn't it?
oh well i'll get around to it.

and yes, i did say i'll put more pics than words on this blog.
yeah i'll get around to that too.

chortles

yesterday was a good day.

*************
in school...

lecturer: women is a force to be reckoned with now, cause they climbed mount everest...

i was about to laugh out loud the mirthless way. then i remembered i was sitting next to my teammates, who all happened to be girls. hence my peace.

*************
at my grandma's...

mom saw a broken mug lid and threw it away.
me: 為什麼丟掉?
mom: 破掉了就丟囉.
me: 破掉就怎樣?
mom: 不吉利啦.
me: 我也有破掉的東西.
mom: 什麼東西?
me: heh. suspensions.
mom: ...

*************
in the car...

mom put her hand close to her head for a few seconds, then my peripherals caught her flick something into the passenger leg bay.

me: 那個是什麼?
mom: 什麼是什麼?
me: 妳剛剛彈什麼到地上?
mom: 紙啦...
me: 紙? 還是鼻屎?
mom: LOL!!!你的眼睛這麼利害?!

*************

but then i slammed my head into the tap.

amendment: yesterday could've been a good day.

spirit levitation

today at grandfather's 100th day prayers, the taoist monk addressed mom's name as:

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . XX菜 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . XX菜 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

her name's 萊.

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

so after the prayers i went up to mom to rouse her from her depression.

me: mother, 不要難過. 在我的年代菜是 chio bu.
mom: lol!
me: 你們的年代 chio bu 不是叫菜 meh?
mom: 不是.
me: 怎麼叫?
mom: 不知道啦.
me: kang tang?
mom: LOLOL!

silent hill 4: the room

one person asking you to clean your room: naggy

two people asking you to clean your room: irritating

three or more: tendon-snapping

so with no better option, except maybe slash my wrists, i cleaned up the room. took me a fucking day.


let he/she who has issues with my cabinet garnish come forth and say it to my face.
after which i will politely ask said character to go 吃 my dog's 屎.

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

been taking mom's altis out for a spin lately. it's small and nifty around corners and in between cars, especially when you just want something light to handle instead of always straining against the pug's steering wheel.

they could seriously allocate more effort to key manufacture though.

refresh button

on me and my brother's recent sparring posts.

yim (via text) : Hey blue eye shadow brother.. Haha...
me (via text) : seebee...

re: my dearest braddar

in reference to this tribute:

first of all, all that feelee-fairlair is simply that: feelee-fairlair. doesn't do shit for me in the real world.

second, "my bro damn zai". there i've copied and pasted mentioned it.

third, yes, i'm constantly reminded of how gullible we were. the prospect of tv-stardom looked good then, didn't it? deceived by our own mother, of all people.

finally, shall we admire some (one) of my brother's greatest shots instead of just cluttering up the space with mere words? hurs.

trist, en garde!

blame me not, braddarrrrr. you started it. hurs.

ah, yes. i particularly like this picture because it gives me hope.
that all is not lost.
sorta.
shaddup.

by the way, sorry renne. just think of yourself as collateral or something, that should make you feel better. a good lesson then, about standing betwixt your parents for your ugly kid shots.

anecdotes

some weeks ago i went with yim to the airport to get my fix. i told him about the prior time when i brought fer there. the girl working there, whom i always talked to, was silent when she saw fer. in fact she looked pissed.

when yim heard the story, he did an impersonation:

我給你那麼好的咖啡, 你竟然帶別的女人來, 什麼意思嘛! 我不幹了!!

yeah, we laughed then, but i haven't gone back since.

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some days ago i had a dream. in it yim was telling me he actually thought one of one of my ex's friends was a nice person, and he's actually on good terms with her (note to all: this sentence's correct. if you didn't understand it you're a dumber cunt than i thought). i was shocked awake and couldn't get back to sleep.

when i related said vision to him he laughed and said: " if you hear me say that you know you're fucking dreaming."

hyperventilation

as i was going up sheares bridge i overtook a monster. it looked good but i somehow missed the throaty grunt distinct to ducatis. he must've been going easy on the throttle.

about a minute after that i heard thunder from behind.

-----------

me: whoa, here it comes. listen to that loud bass..
fer: where?
me: coming soon, wait for it.

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then four dukes passed me, two monsters from the right, two 1098s from the left. they were so fast i only managed to glimpse their receding tail lights. yeah, that fast.

it fucking made my day. i flipped out and started screaming/hooting/cheering at them even though i knew they couldn't hear me.

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me: ohmygodohmygod! look at that!! didyouseedidyousee? ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod... that is what i'm talking about! woohoo! 是 high 的囉!!
fer: calm down...
me: lolol!
fer: ha ha, you have that stupid grin on your face again!
me: lolol!

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to call them subtle is to describe a tornado as a fart. ten bikes of any other kind going in formation can't induce that kind of presence, and that's exactly why i dig them.

if you see what i mean then you understand my joy at seeing them, and we can be friends.
on the other hand those who do not comprehend must lead miserable lives indeed, and i pity you. best hasten unto the light and liberate yourselves from the abyss made dark by the likes of perverted japanese crap, before the shit hitteth the fan when one day you wake up to realise you have lived for nothing.

只在乎曾經拥有

hell hath no fury

one day i got tired of walking the fifteen-klick journey to the other side of the cabinet betwixt renne's and my rooms to get the air-conditioner remote, so i wrote her a 'be more 自動' note, wrapped it round the remote, and left it on my end of middle-earth.

######

how u like walking around the cabinet to get the remote? yeah? yeah?

######

her reply:

her articulate paraphrasing and eloquent flow of 筆畫 sorta-kinda tells me she's under some kind of mental duress.
or pms.

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proof that i've been really, really bored in class

not when i'm bored

somebody wanted an update, so here it is.

left lane: me
middle lane: small black car, brand of which shall not be named
right lane: some jap family car, maybe a picnic

so when it turned green the small black car was the first to shoot off. being of the brand that shall not be named, me and the picnic overtook it before it cleared the junction. yes, it was slower than the jap family car. i had to cut about 20 meters ahead of it because some truck was turning into my lane, and here starts yet another episode of my endless digs at the less-accepted trademarks.

^_________________^

hyundai = hope you understand, nothing's drivable and inexpensive

the small black car finally caught up about 2 lights later and cut into my path. i think she* was trying to show that she was pissed.

* so termed because i do not think said person deserves balls.

so anyway, when that light turned green she sped off. or tried to. so i had to cut yet again. overtaking her was an unintended collateral because her gas pedal wasn't working. she tried to at least keep on par with me so i couldn't cut back in front of her. it's the middle of the fucking night and there are three fucking lanes, bitch. oh well, i was bored.

so i put the pedal to the floor and she shrunk into the distance. felt bad actually, cause i knew it wasn't much of a contest. maybe she could have caught up if she tried hard, i guess.

if you're not going to go all out, don't start.

^_________________^

some jokes from some webbie

q: what's the sport version of a hyundai?
a: the driver wears sport shoes.

q: what do you call a hyundai with brakes?
a: customised.

q: what do you call a hyundai at the top of a hill?
a: a miracle.

newsflash: the new hyundai comes with an airbag, when you sense an impending accident, start pumping real fast.