haiku for abstinence
(Saturday, October 29, 2005)it had just sprung to me this urgency to announce to nobody that i am very much alive and kicking. not really kicking anything since there's absolutely nothing to migrate the force to since i have fewer foes than mary poppins. besides, kicking might bloody well be perilious to my toe nails. other than that rest assured, i'm very much alive.
just that i was tied up last week. like literally tied up. the boss sent me to assasination mission kill this big time mafia chap in czech republic. so i thought i did my homework well by shadowing him for merely 3 days and when the opportunity window unfolds, i took out my glock, held it at a perpendicular angle to vertical, looking so fucking blase, virtually the only thing cooler is a lorry liquid nitrogen, while saying this:
"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee. "
PLONK!
yes, muthafucking plonk, not BLAMM! some candy ass bitch behind my back had a sudden rancorous appeal to put my skull on a endurance test with a bloody frying pan. dammit. anybody with a greater sense of adequecy would use a proper club. so like all the other unfortunate cliches we've witnessed on HBO (james bond, rambo and all great heroes who could kill thousands in a single minute), the bad guy caught me.
then he puts me in the worse torture ever; watching his nominal primate looking posse prance horrendously in my view with the lastest victoria's secret autumn collection. simply because watching full grown men parading in lingerie is nonetheless traumatising, making shagging your best friend's mom a blessing. it might as well be classified as the most tormenting torture ever invented by modern human. yes, a torny club up the anus could more likely be less stressful.
and it turns out the mafia bloke passed away later because of the speech i made before i was about to shot him was so bloody funny, he died laughing. talk about a notion of levity. fuck'all some morons just can't tell the difference between a dramatic moment and acute humour.
finally, after they nonchalantly induced the unanticipated grotesque disturbance, they set me free.
why do i wake into this dream?
(Friday, October 28, 2005)
the thing.
(Sunday, October 23, 2005)
carnival in 1u.
like how they depict it.
(Saturday, October 22, 2005)most played: 2pac: Can't C Me
[updated due to load of spelling and grammar blunders]the most interesting thing that happens once in a pink moon in the international film industry is the arrival of a new superheroin in some trendy tight haute couture. take the lastest superheroin we've been lusting most recently, susan storm. c'mon, fantastic 4 is officially in line with the same repertoire of the worst movie ever made in hollywood. it's shit. but catching a glimpse of jessica alba in that tightsuit basically wooed all men away from burning down the cinema as an godly act to condone such hideous form of entertainment levity. you know, to prevent the movie from causing more pain to the society.
come to think of it, is there any movie with a heroin tight costumes actually worked before? think catwoman (hairy belly). if that isn't an accident, then kissing your best friend's mom when you're half wasted is legitimate, as perilious as it might sound. so does macing your best friend's dad's face cause he was trying to stop you, and your best friend too in that matter. never have mankind come across any catastrophic facemask so un-aerodynamic as the one which they had in catwoman. catwoman supposedly just have to whisper a purr and all man, ranges age 6 months to 95 years old will go weak on their knees and simply surrender themselves to the feline's expense. BUT...no, this catwoman have to fucking grovel on the knees to get something working. WHAT THE FUCK! with a face costume like that, only to way market the movie is by making hairy belly pop 4 sets of tits. and we all know nobody has more than a set of them.
why the hell is the sex kitten black anyway? michelle pfeiffer did perfecly for the same role in batman returns and she 'meowr'ed dammit, and a manly bloke like batman was horny when he encountered that feline-woman-thingy-whatever-dammit. so other than michelle, who could be the next catwomen that permeates 'meowrrrrrr' in her radius and simply engineer an arousing sexual desire for all men? given the the right costume that is...
i think most female political women are suitable. like hildary clinton. or rafidah aziz. or gloria macapagal-aroyo. now that's a tight movie. real life 'hustlerinos' being themselves. except that non of them looks decent enough to make the movie sell. fuck all, having a sort of concrete character and being unintentionally crazy doesn't mean the world loves you. well, i'd rather watch hillary in a that hideous costume than bloody hairy belly. tsk.
p/s - i'd like to see them girls in x-men tights anytime, yo.
unpublish the beginning.
(Thursday, October 20, 2005)sometimes i wake up and feel like the whole world is playing a joke on me, enjoying every moment i trip and fall and make a fool out of myself. sometimes it's as though it's out to get me, making things as hard as possible for me. yet sometimes, i've got to admit, things are pretty good, and i feel on top of the world. unfortunately it doesn't happen all the time. i guess that's life..it see-saws between love and hate, happiness and sorrow, day and night, yin and yang..whatever.
life, is what you make it to be. it can be depressing, gloomy and grey, or full of colours and beauty. it's as though someone put life into our hands, and it's up to us to live it whichever way we want to. at times things don't turn out the way we want them to, but if everything went smoothly, what would the point be? life would never be exciting, there would be no experience to gain. it would be boring, bland, blah.
sometimes i feel that life is pointless. we are introduced to this world, we mature, and then we die. so what if we are successful? so what if we acquire great wealth? it will all but come to an end sooner or later. we pass out of this world, leaving everything behind-fame, success,money friends.. what's the point? why actually are we here? even now, the seconds are ticking by. you cannot predict what will happen in the next millisecond. you cannot make all your hopes and wishes come true with a wave of a magic wand. all we can do is wait-wait for time to pass so we can retire and our place in this world is taken over by another individual. again i ask-why? if we enter this world only to leave it in the end, why step in in the first place?
but then again, i'd give anything to be able to remain here. except my life, of course. this is a truly wonderful experience, even if i am oblivious to the reason behind all this. i thank whoever it is that gave me the chance to live, to breathe, to touch, to feel, for life is the most beautiful thing that has ever existed. if only life could go on forever and ever, and all the joy, laughter, happiness, and even the tears, hurt and sorrow would continue on a never-ending cycle. that, would be bliss.
p/s - this supposedly should be the introduction to my blog, depicted by myn wee, even before the first post had been composed.
p/s - this supposedly should be the introduction to my blog, depicted by myn wee, even before the first post had been composed.
of black phsyco driver and tiara-less deutsche princess
(Wednesday, October 19, 2005)it wasn't really funny but it was little funny. haha.
the blunder in my judgement while driving almost made me a horrific accident. not entirely horrendous, just that some biker would slam onto the car, you see. nothing much, probably he'd be bleeding angry and would want to kill me. i mean bleeding and angry.
technically, the
the
bah...
dogg.
(Monday, October 17, 2005)the brother wants to get a rottweiler to keep an eye on our new house. heterodox to common logical and accepted dog names, he wanted to name it kill. or maim. (i told him i'd call the it pussy and he said it'll scar the dog's emotionally and it'll be less deadly.) oh yes, my brother like his dog deadlier than a t-rex.
what's interesting is, he's not drunk when he said that, yes, completely sane and sober and he's been going about it for months and months. all those 'we need a rottweiler, dammit, people listen!!!' talk is present whenever he's got a chance to chunk it into a family conversation. like the part when mom was talking about how bad the wedding dinner she attended was, my brother just went about his 'dog talk'. mom didn't really bother what my brother was indicating about so she completely disregard him and went back to telling us the 5th dish, the fish was unforgivably overcooked.
finally, i knew that the youngest member of the family has to dip his hands into shit at times (cause mom and dad stoplessly talking about how bad the food were) and suggestively mentioned that vanessa won't let anything furry and living in my house or out of the house, no matter what. last time i took a kitten home, vanessa profusely express her disagreement by nailing my foot and channelled all her anger into her claws piercing through my skin. in my humble opinion (and the rest of my family which matters), the puss will bloody mutilate me with chainsaw if she could bent her fingers. some puss looks like they have something up their arse.
mass vitrolic capacity
(Sunday, October 16, 2005)[please insert your very own mental image of a man at the verge of being hanged]
i feel heavily sedated by the constant sleep deficiency that plagued my restless mornings. it feels as good as standing on a gallows looking forward to be severely strangled but the noose is missing because the hangmen had had diarrhea and it accidentally fell unceremoniously into the shithole while he was taking a dump. yes, it is asphyxia as that. well, almosttt as that...if the gibberish is too much to handle, please accept my apology. i sincerely have no idea where is disconcerting mindless ranting is heading.
can someone please fucking jab me with a thickest dosage of tranquilizer that'll keep me unconscious for 3 bloody days, please?
picture perfect
(Friday, October 14, 2005)
there's a fine line between art and pornograhpy.
i've never seen anything this good for probably almost an eon.
stalemate carnival.
(Wednesday, October 12, 2005)
photos from my trip to a local temple on monday
***
off to sleep after this cause i'll amble out of the city first thing in the morning, before the sun reaches zenith and roast the streets furiously. basically, tomorrow is all about if the initial plans doesn't go well, there's ample time to hang around up north, leaving no choice but to raid every foodstore in town in order to forfeit my boredom.
make it black, please...
(Tuesday, October 11, 2005)last weekened had been bloody good.
actually last weekend was the best weekend i'd ever had since i imposed the silly caveat on myself. choking up an excuse like you're depressed is sure as hell a good excuse to ditch everyone and curl up in the room for some big time soul searching.
definition:
soul searching always involves a rack of movies and plenty of music sampling. and not to mention being completely anti-social.
so the opening gala to celebrate the comeback of my unexciting yet disaster-prone social life had to be with somebody with a notion of intelligent levity, like steph and mun and not some random loud callow everything-but-content black barbarian dude. the night is based on mun and steph playing doctors (no, unfortunately, steph wasn't in any sort of uniform) to prescribe a working cure for my sleeping disorder, talks which includes how chemical brothers rock harder than prodidy, how sucky a sadistic punk rock band is and a truckload of nonsense which i can't really recall.
then post-mortem saturday round #1107 was celebrated cherishly in some posh pancake shop. the highlight wasn't the oh-this-is-great-pancake of the pancake but my lousy best friend actually melted right in front of a pancake. she was beaming cluelessly like a hyena. oh, yes, special one she is. most eccentric and pathetic, in a good way.
at night, the hyena, jenny and i invaded tamarind springs and shamelessly maimed half of the food in the menu. we left the shop stuffed like christmas turkey and bloated with all the intention for a photography session in the most happening '9 Gods' temple in ampang. we had to cancel cause there was a massive traffic choke in ampang at 10pm. no one know where all these cars came from...
*i'll put on pictures soon.
**maybe i won't.
spawn of paranoia.
(Monday, October 10, 2005)most played: erin lang's happy to see you
is it only at my place or just my mind messing with me or the streets are replenished by cars in plurality ever during the fasting month? routinely clogged traffic veins seemingly occur immeasurably earlier than usual, hardly making much sense at all.
yes that's right, everyone in our country, even in different races, religion and skin colours single-mindedly decided to leave work half an hour earlier, an annual month-long opportunity for truancy. it's a celebrated larceny although not so willingly embraced by the employers that jeopradize the entire productivity target.
what the hell does break fast got to do with people who doesn't fast at all??? techincally, we're very united in a eccentric way, everyone skips the final hour of work and nobody gets punished.
aren't us malaysian the most interesting ever people in the whole wide world. an accurate line like that deserve a brazillian wave.
those who tell the truth shall die
(Friday, October 07, 2005)
finally, i have manage to get the post-rock prodigy's album, in that sense, legally. the compressed songs are just not good enough sometimes.
vacation alert.
(Thursday, October 06, 2005)those who's anticipating my great death, no i did not die from alcohol poisoning. i'm so sorry i'm still alive. the world is still a good place though and it nevertheless will not be any better off without me.
however, there i suffering from a minor rare sleeping disorder known popularly as reversed insomnia. or scientifically known as whythefuckinghellamiupat6inthemorning? while normal (or abnormal in that bloody sense) insomniacs turn around their beds, read history textbooks, et cetera just to attempt to find their way around the unresolved complex maze that will eventually buoyantly leads them to sleep. in spite of that, i on the other than, had trouble with waking up too early in the morning, simply because i don't feel exhausted or fatigued. even after i jog a couple of laps.
hence, my eyes looked like they were threatening to hop out of the socket and blast their way into a 100 meters sprint competition. and my left eye is having an infection again. bollocks.
everyone within the distance of a single shout had technically tasted a piece of my gruesome morbidness. it feels like pre-morning undelightful grumpy syndrome but rather it's been extended throughout my day.
after 2 days of nothing but concentrated amount of sleep, it's finally feeling like september is over.
dummy's guide to poison a pervert mind.
(Sunday, October 02, 2005)most played: mogwai's cody.
the sunway developers organised a get to you know neighbour party in the event of launching my new house. there's a buffet. so all the cheapskates in my new neighbourhood rammed themselves into a bandwagon and shamelessly headed for the party. they brought along grandma, great grandma, maid, son, wife and everyone else that matters like their friends and their bloody dog too. it was THAT happening.
there were lotsa food like curry, and satay and the usual shit people serve in house warming buffet it wasn't important anyways. but then i saw the most divine, liew's version of holy grail (or unholy in that sense) there. they had a keg of beer! a whole muthafucking keg!!! that is like 165 fucking cans of beer. since mom and dad wasn't around, i arrogantly unleash my perpetual fetish for alcohol and made up my mind that i shant give a fuck all on my neighbour (oh well, i'm gonna get to know them sooner or later. the latter sounds better). oh yeah, there were wine and a bottle of black label too. but i didn't take any of those.
so everyone attacked the food section while i shy away from everyone and quietly drilled a hole and shove my debonair looking fun straw into the sanctified keg. then i drained the whole keg in less than 10 minutes. haha, not really, nobody can do that. unless you're a t-rex. once munch and it's gone. i'm still hungover so it's totally alright for me to drone on nineteen acres gibberish. anyway, the lager was shit anyways so i didn't souse myself with it.
then i went home for a shower and all that cleaning chorus and the effect from the beer was receeding. that's beer for you. the withdrawal starts the minute you make the slightest wiggle on your right fourth toe.
the end. most morose post award winner. ulta beer (lousy?) and early withdrawal. ultimate snag.
of chapter one at least.
haha, of course there was a backup plan. somehow i had a bottle of sauvignon blanc at my expense, in the secret underground nuclear-proof chamber, next to my mortar launcher. there was mogwai (which i reluctantly picked up from the store because my wallet is flat) and continuous porn show in mute, some wine and gaiman's anansi boys. it sounds utterly complete until my tummy start to thunder.
bing!
bang!
boom!
and those funny sounds, you know. so i checked myself into a restaurant, for the shittiest food i ever had in months. for the record, if i was anywhere sober, there's no chance in hell i'd take that shit.
so i ate that pile of obscene-tasted food, went home, read a few lines of anansi boys until my eyes were filtered by a layer of blurry miasma.
she has finally arrive.
(Saturday, October 01, 2005)most played: deftones' change (in the house of the fly)
i saw her today. then i slammed a tonne of force onto my accelerator to try and catch another orgasmic glimpse at her but she just floats smoothly while my tachometer warily indicates that if i don't loose the pressure soon, my engine will explode.
there's actually a bloody gallardo rummaging our streets right here in malaysia.
if only it was yellow but it was silver. (beats me why would anyone in their right mind get a silverish gallardo? but how many rich people out there has a right mind?)
if only it was an enzo but it had to be a gallardo. whyyyyy?
*this is where Live's Turn My Head comes in as a theme song*
if only that the driver forced the divine engine capacity to fire all it's pistons in full force, stabbing through the streets, arrogantly smoke all the other vehicles on the road, silently yelling, 'butt off you losers!' yet fashionably dwell an overlasting impression right into your web clogged head but the driver chose to parade slowly instead.
