An Identity Crisis

Revelation 4: In Retrospect

2006-11-05T21:51:00.000+08:00

15,000 people.

More than 100km drive away.

The Biggest outdoor rave party of the year.

All fucked up because the "local authorities" suddenly wanted it to end at 1am.

What's the point of getting a permit, then? And for fucks sake, it was on private property, miles away from anything close to being residential.

Fucked up. That's all I'm gonna say. Fucked up.

Thoughts of an Insomniac

2006-10-15T01:41:00.000+08:00

It's 1.40am, and I still cant sleep.

I've been having trouble sleeping for the past 2 weeks. But I still cant put a finger on why.

Someone close to me has been saying that I think too much. I'm finally starting to think she's right.

But my thoughts have been random, so it's hard to pinpoint my source of distress.

I think about my late mother, her life, her pains, her sacrifices, and ultimately her absence in my life. It's been almost 6 years since she past on, but I guess I have to admit it; the pain of her loss is still strong in me. And since she died at the age of 39 (which I'm sure you will agree is a much too young of an age to die of cardiac arrest), I cant help but feel that life really does have to be lived to the fullest.

I think about my two siblings back home. I miss them, and I feel a certain degree of guilt that I had to leave for KL to work. I feel guilty for not being there for them (as a brother and as a friend).

I think about my father as well, and the ups and downs we've gone through life, as father and son. I remember the turbulent times we had when I was that problematic teenager. I remember him silently crying in the nights after the passing of my mother. I think about how we have grown together as son and father to what we are now, true lifelong friends. But I also see his pain, and his fatigue from all the punches that life has swung at him. And yet the old man trudges along as if nothing can stop him. And that's what worries me; I don't know if I could ever display the resolve, the resilience that he has had throughout life.

I think about the rest of my family, my relatives. I'm angry at my grandmother, and aunt's & uncles. I am angry because they lied to us. I am angry because they proved the saying "Blood is thicker than water" wrong. They were my mothers family, but what did they do to help us after mom had gone? All the managed to do was cry and take some of mom's things. And they left it at that. We were in a shit hole of a rut, and they all knew it. We went through 2 years of living in an unfinished house with no electricity, and no municipal water. And all they were concerned about was mom's gold. Why couldn't they help us instead. Where is that gold now, I ask? I sincerely thought that out of all people, they were the ones that were going to give us a helping hand. But in the end, help came from other people.

I will never forget. I will never forget. I will never forget.

I think about myself, and where I am now. Life has taken it's fair share of punches on me. And to be really honest, I don't think I faired very well. And I'm not proud of it. I think about all those ambitions, those dreams I had. And how life (or sometimes myself) fucked them away.

I'm going to be 29 soon. And I don't know where this journey called life is taking me.

Maybe that's why I cant sleep.

Or maybe, just maybe, it's because I've not gone out clubbing for the last one month... :-)

Soul Searching

2006-10-12T22:30:00.000+08:00

I havent blogged in ages. I know.

I guess I've been busy trying to find my place in the world. That might sound really cheesy to some, but at times, people do have to go through this phase.

In fact, I guess I've been doing ever since I got here (KL). Maybe this blog was part of it. (Identity Crisis, duh!!) Unfortunately, at this moment in time, I dont have anything to blog about. Not just yet. Lets just say I dont know what to tell u guys right now.

In a nutshell, the past couple of months saw major changes in my life. New friends (that became real friends). Old friends that just drift away. So many stories. But I dont know if u want to read about them.

Maybe I just dont have the inspiration to blog. Not just yet. Not just yet.

2006-10-08T16:03:00.000+08:00

You Are An INFP

The Idealist
You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world.Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships.It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close.But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop.
You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

What's" Your Personality Type?

Strange. True, to an extent, I must say. But strange nonetheless. Shrink I am definately not. I didnt exactly get an A in art class. And I guess I dont write enough to qualify as a writer. Maybe soon... :-)

For The Time Being...

2006-07-24T20:50:00.000+08:00

Sarah McLachlan - Sweet Surrender (DJ Tiesto Mix)

I'm Sorry

2006-06-09T15:22:00.000+08:00

Happy belated Gawai to all.

Forgive me, for i have been much too busy to blog lately. In fact, I miss blogging.

However, make no mistake, I will be back soon.

Tiesto In Sepang - A Video Recap

2006-04-20T14:22:00.000+08:00

I'm kind of lazy to write about the Tiesto concert in Sepang last March. So for now, I've decided to put up some video clip of the event the was taken by other ravers at the scene.

5 hours non-stop trance.

18,000 people (As reported by The Star).

Awesome.

Here's another one. You can almost feel the bass.

Finally, here's a music video of "Love Comes Again" by DJ Tiesto, just so that some of you can familiarize yourselves with his music.

A Game From The Gods

2006-04-17T17:02:00.000+08:00

Firstly, I don't do game reviews, not even for fun. I guess I don't see myself as a hardcore gamer to justify me doing so. But yes, being a normal 21st century male, I do own and play PS2. And I've finally found a game worth mentioning.

Tourist Trophy : The Real Riding Simulator

For those that don't know, I'm a motorcycle fanatic. I even owned a Honda CBR 900 a couple of years ago. (Finally had to let it go due to financial constraints). To this end, I'll always be a biker at heart, and hopefully own one again in the future.

In the meantime, it helps to pass the time with some PS2 games. Nevertheless, I've never really liked racing games, especially car/automobile types, the Grand Tourismo franchise included. I really don't know why. Maybe because driving and riding are (almost) 2 totally different things.

Good motorcycle sims are few and far between. I guess the only one I like before this is MotoGP 3 & 4.

But now there is TT. And I must say, I've been blown away. Never have I played a bike sim that looks and feels like the real thing. Kudos to Polyphony Digital, the makers of the GT series. U finally made a proper game for the rest of us.

Which brings me to another point; I believe this game is going to be very frustrating for people that don't ride bikes. I watched my friend (who happens to be an ace in GT) screw up big time in TT. As it turns out, he doesn't have much real world bike experience and well, he was controlling the bike as if it were a car in GT. The problem is, bikes don't corner or behave like cars.

But at the end of the day, I think this game can garner the publics' appreciation of motorcycles, and the skill needed to be motorcycle racers (aka MotoGP riders), unlike in F1, where the driver is of less importance as the car itself.

Let's just cut to the chase; Tourist Trophy is a damn good game.

I Fear For The Future Of My Country

2006-04-10T19:13:00.000+08:00

What's happening to my country?

Why are absurd things like this happening in the constitutions that claim to uphold justice?

What is there to say?

Is this a glimpse of our future?

Look it up in the net, and you'll find something about it everywhere, locally and internationally. I won't elaborate. See for yourselves.

All I can say is that it makes me sick. It makes me angry.

If a person can't handle something, don't look.

If a person can't handle public displays of affection like kissing and hugging, go fuck a tree.

The Prodigal Son Returns

2006-04-06T14:40:00.000+08:00

and leaves again...

It's been almost a month since my last post.

Ironically, my last post is pre-Tiesto concert, so I suppose some would assume I've been stoned out since then. But, of course, realistically, things have just been busy at work and personal life.

I'll probably post something about the Tiesto gig in the near future, but for now, I just want to chill. Eventually, I'll continue with the stories from my Thailand trip as well.

I suppose I'm just a little jaded right now with a lot of things (blogging included). I don't see a point in elaborating, since doing so wont make any difference.

But, I'll be back soon, I suppose.

Till then, cheers people.

DJ Tiesto in Kuala Lumpur

2006-03-16T17:23:00.000+08:00

He's coming to KL. And I'm gonna be there.

First, there was Paul van Dyke. That happened in January. And I was there too.

Now Tiesto is coming to spin. Looks like the rave scene is looking good this year.

There are some things that defy explanation. And my interest in rave and dance music is one of them. Trust me, I've tried explaining it to some friends, but to absolutely no avail.

All I can say is, go, experience it for yourself. You'll never regret or forget it.

Cheers and beers, people. I think it's gonna be a good weekend.

Thailand - Day 1: The 1000km Bus Trip

2006-03-10T16:52:00.000+08:00

Part 2

I was awoken by the non-English-speaking bus conductor in the middle of the night.

2.30am, to be exact.

He said something in Thai and handed me a small plastic containing a wet face tissue. I half-heartedly took it and placed it in my shirt pocket before making an effort to continue my slumber.

To no avail.

I opened my eyes and realized that the lights had been turned on and all the other passengers were awake. Obviously, this was going to be the mandatory "pit stop" that every long haul bus makes. However, back at home, it isn't compulsory to get off. Here, in Thailand, it sure seemed like it.

So I rouse myself, and ask the women passenger beside me where we were.

"Where are we?" I ask in very slow English.

I'm given a blank look.

"Where, here, what name?" I ask along with some sort of sign language, pointing to the floor.

"ahh, uhm, Chumpon", she answers.

"Khwap khum khrap", I say, meaning Thank You in Thai.

A few minutes later, we arrive at what appears to be a stopover place not unlike the ones back home in West Malaysia. Big, open air, and clean. With lots of food stalls too.

But, as far as I'm concerned, seems to be in the middle of nowhere.

As we all disembark from the bus, I'm immediately shocked by the temperature of the surroundings. From my personal opinion, it must have been around 12 to 15 degrees Celsius, because it didn't take long for me to start shivering, despite the jacket and long sleeve I had on me. Apparently, this is normal in Thailand.

I follow the other passengers, thinking that they would lead me to the restrooms. We pass other travelers having there midnight suppers.

"How can they eat when it's this cold?" I think to myself.

A few feet ahead I see a familiar man holding a signboard (that had some Thai words on it) in one hand and a hand hailer in the other. He was saying something in Thai and gesturing to a nearby table. It turned out to be our very own bus driver.

At this point, I was undeniably very confused. I looked at the other passengers.

"Eat", said one of them.

"Fuck. Now?", I thought.

Nevertheless, I followed suite. There were about five tables laid out for us, and there were about five different dishes for us to eat, including some Tom Yum soup that pratically burned a whole in my stomach.

So there I was, 2.30am, in the middle of nowhere, having a late supper I didn't feel like having, with complete strangers that didn't speak much English, and having the most spiciest of all dishes, Tom Yum soup. To add to that, I was shivering like mad.

Priceless.

Half an hour later, after all of us had visited the loo, we were on our way again.

As I sat silently in my seat and replayed what I had just went through, I couldn't help but smile.

Weird, it was. Outrages, even.

But charming in it's own way. I wouldn't have experienced it if I used a flight, or a tourist bus, even. And it was something normal to Thai's, I suppose.

So, in the end, if you think about it, I managed to experience an aspect of Thai life. Not bad for a start, if I don't say so myself.

Besides, back in Malaysia, you don't expect a full course meal included when you buy a bus ticket, do you?

Thailand - Day 1: The 1000km Bus Trip

2006-03-01T11:52:00.000+08:00

Part 1

It was a long wait, but after a couple hours delay, my bus to Bangkok finally arrived. Amidst all the chaos, it was a relief to know that I would be leaving the flooded South and continue on my journey.

It didn't take long for us (the passengers) to be herded like a flock of sheep in the white and blue colored bus. I stashed my backpack in the undercarriage compartment along with all the other passengers, before promptly boarding the bus to look for my seat.

Now, just to make things clear, long distance buses in Thailand consist of two main types: Private company owned, and government owned. Government owned buses, such as the one I boarded, are always colored blue and white. These buses are actually cheaper and you're less likely to be 'taken for a ride' aka scamed. And, while private run buses are usually filled with "farang", government run buses are filled mostly with local Thais. Which makes a person's trip more "authentic".

On the same note, the passenger next to me was a Thai women that spoke almost no English. In fact, no one on that bus spoke very good English, if at all. Authentic? Indeed.

We left Hatyai at around 7.00pm. As we slowly left Hatyai, I couldn't help but be amazed at the power of mother nature. The severity of the floods weren't evident to me until now, as we passed hundreds of submerged cars and houses. It was amazing that this bus of ours managed to leave Hatyai in the first place.

Two hours into the trip, I noticed an interesting thing about the bus conductor. (There's one conductor for every bus that takes care of the passengers not unlike the flight attendants of commercial airlines.) Apparently, bus conductors on long haul bus trips wear a full suit and tie. Basically, he was just like an air steward, except that he wasn't on an aircraft. He gave out pillows, blankets, a small satchet of crackers and mineral water to all the passenger.

But he didn't speak English. Well, nobody's perfect, I guess.

As the night progressed, I became increasingly bored because I couldn't sleep (yet) and there was nothing I could do to pass the time. Starting a conversation with someone one the bus was, obviously, not possible. But at about 10pm, the conductor turned on the onboard television to entertain us with some movies.

"Finally", I thought to myself.

Evidently, the movie for the night was Wesley Snipes' "6 Seconds", something I hadn't watched before.

"This is good. A Hollywood movie. At least it'll keep me entertained for a while", I said to myself.

Entertained for the first five minutes, I should say. The opening scene was Snipes and a white chick getting it on in the bedroom.

"Beautiful. No censorship", I smiled to myself.

Then, they start talking. In Thai.

Evidently, every single movie in Thailand is dubbed in Thai. And there are NO subtitles.

I decided to sleep.

Emergency testing

2006-02-16T12:37:00.000+08:00

Testing. Something wrong with my blog.

Thailand - Day 1: Stranded In A Foreign Land

2006-01-29T15:46:00.000+08:00

I was overwhelmed. I had prepared for every mis-adventure that I thought could have happened.

Even for a tsunami. (Mentally, at least.)

But major flooding was not on my "to-be-expected' list. In fact, being the first thing I see in a foreign land kind of took me off guard. But, as I had said earlier, when you make a trip like this one, you have to expect somethings to go wrong. And whether I liked it or not, the floods were there to make this trip much more 'interesting'.

As I disembark from the bus at the Hatyai bus terminal/station, I'm greeted by confused Thai touts. Confused because they aren't sure of my nationality, some thinking that I'm Thai. I can't blame them, though, because Malaysians and Thais gerenally look the same.

But the first 10 minutes told me two important things that was going to underline my whole journey;

1. Thais always think I'm Thai. Which is both good and bad.
2. Generally, Thais cannot speak English. This is bad.

Now, in Thailand, there are two ways to get around;

1. The easy way: Go through a travel agent/tout or anything close to that description. Almost all can actually arrange transportation from any point to another in Thailand without much difficulty. The efficiency is amazing. If Malaysia had travel agencies like theirs, we would be flocked with tourists. All a person has to do is tell them where they want to go, and no matter how far, how secluded it is, they can put you on your way in the next hour or two. All you have to do is pay.

2. The hard(er) way: Go to the actual transport company and pay for the tickets there. It takes a little more effort, brains and guts to do it this way, because you actually have to plan out your journey yourself, every step of the way.

So, which method did I use? Simple. I chose number 2. For good reason.

Going through a travel agency/tout means that the price quoted to you will include every commision possible, meaning prices will be slightly more expensive. And prices vary immensely. Plus, it was too easy, my grandmother could go at it. And I would be stuck on a bus full of "Mat Salleh" that I think would tone down the whole experience. Not to mention the stories of bogus 'arranged' transport. Think about it, back in Malaysia, would a person by a ticket from the bus ticketing counter or some complete stranger hanging around the bus station?

After a moment of self-deliberating, I decided that I should leave Hatyai immediately. The floods had momentarily crippled the whole town, so for now, there was nothing for me to see in Hatyai. I proceeded to the closest tourist information counter and asked when the next train to Bangkok was, as this was my initial plan to Bangkok.

Me: Excuse me. Where is the train station?

Counter Lady: Train station ober der. (Points to the direction) Not too far, you see after de tall building der. You not Thai man? Where you go?

M: Uh, no, I'm Malaysian. I want to go to Bangkok. When is the next train to Bangkok leaving?

CL: Oh! Train no have. Too many water, uh rain. Train cannot go.

So there you go. I immediately understood that she was trying to tell me that the floods had temporarily stopped all trains to the north.

M: So what about the buses. Can they bring me to Bangkok? I dont think I want to stay here with the floods and all.

CL: Bus I thing still hav. You go counter der and ask.

M: Thank you.

To my relief, buses were still available, so I purchased a ticket leaving to Bangkok later in the evening at 5pm. It cost me 740baht or about RM74. I'm told that the journey usually takes 11-12 hrs. With a distance of more than 1000km away and the ensuing floods, I was expecting it to take much longer.

It was about 2.30pm by now, so I went off to find something to eat. Then I remembered that I needed to adjust my watch to local Thai time which is 1 hour latter than Malaysian time. Wouldn't want to miss my bus becuase of time differences, would we!

I killed the next few hours by surfing at a nearby cyber cafe, and later, reading my Lonely Planet. I think I should mention that Thai computers have Thai letterings and keyboards as default! Just ask the owner of the shop, and he/she will press a particular botton on the keyboard that will make that problem go away.

As 5pm loomed closer, the rain got worse. I wanted to leave as soon as possible, but things werent looking good. A TV nearby had been showing ground and sky footage of the floods in Hatyai non-stop for the last 2hrs or so. Eventhough I didnt understand a word that was being said, I could see that Southern Thailand was in a state of emergency.

By 5pm, my anxiousness grew. No buses were coming in or leaving yet. All the counter lady could say to me was, "Wait, yes. No yet. Very soon".

Gong Xi Fa Chai!

2006-01-29T15:42:00.000+08:00

Happy Chinese New Year to all Chinese readers and bloggers out there. Have a gud 'un.

Thailand - Day 1: Natural Disaster

2006-01-23T14:07:00.000+08:00

Due to problems on my Internet connection, I've been unable to post anything for the last two weeks. My apologies to all. As promised, the following is the continuation of my solo journey into Thailand.

I believe sometimes in life, in order for a person to achieve their dreams, they have to take a certain degree of risk. The more ambitious the dream, the bigger the risk.

In other words, when I planned to make this trip a reality, I never expected it to be a walk in the park. I'm an optimist, yes, but I'm not an idiot. I knew that this trip was going to be a real adventure, but an adventure is not an adventure if nothing goes wrong. Keeping this mindset helped me keep my cool throughout the rollercoaster ride that lay before me in the days ahead.

As I sat admist the chaos of Puduraya station, waiting for the 'conductor' to call us to board the bus, I silently scan the crowd of people around me, hoping that I find another crazy Malaysian on a similar plan as mine. Nothing. Aside from the usual Mat Salleh backpackers, everybody else seemed to have ordinary or conventional traveling plans. So much for morale boosters.

The bus left Puduraya right on schedule. As planned, I slept through the night journey without incident. When I woke up in the morning, we had not reach the border. Soon after, we reached the border check point and I went through all the formalities without fuss.

But as we crept closer to Hatyai, I soon realized that things were going to be a little difficult. The trip that was supposed to take about 7 hrs, finally took 14hrs. When we finally got off the bus at about 12noon, this was what greeted us:

Amidst the Hatyai floods

Thailand - The Beginning

2006-01-09T18:20:00.000+08:00

The plan was to leave Kuala Lumpur by train on the night of 16th December.

I had made last minute checks on all things related to this trip. I had packed the night before but since this was a solo trip, I didn't want to take any chances. Last thing I wanted was to get stuck in a foreign country with no one to bail me out.

I had already activated international "roaming" for my credit cards and ATM card the day before. I didn't want to carry around too much cash and I was told that the exchange rate via bank ATM is better than normal money changers. I had also made sure that I had a copy of all my important documents i.e. passport, ATM & credit cards, etc, just in case of loss.

I had purchased a Maxis prepaid number too, because I originally have a Celcom number, but only Maxis lines can receive and send SMS from overseas. Once again, just in case. Besides, I did have a job that did need my attention every so often.

I made sure that I didn't over-pack, but also have all the necessary things/clothing that were needed for this two week trip. I guess it's important not to bring too many things, because, trust me, you will bring back a heavier load home.

After I was satisfied with all my things, I went off to KL Sentral to buy my train ticket to Hatyai. This is where I encountered my first mistake of the trip. People always tell you that nobody uses the train nowadays. Too slow, abit more expensive than bus, they say. True, at RM52 for sleeper bunker, it's a few ringgit more than a bus ride. And yes, it's slower. But don't ever think that nobody ever uses it.

I walk up to the counter and ask for the upper sleeper, which is slightly cheaper than the lower sleeper.

Counter Lady: For Hatyai, Thailand, correct?

Me: Yes.

CL: What day, sir?

M: Uh, today, there's one in the evening right? That one.

CL: I'm sorry sir, today and tomorrow's train is fully booked.

M: Oh shit. Serious? I thought nobody uses the train anymore.

CL: (smiles) Well locals don't usually bother, but backpackers do. They are our main sales.

M: Ok then, thanks.

I leave quite bewildered. I didn't expect this at all, what from all the "knowledgeable advice" and all I've been getting from people.

(I guess that's why I've decided to document this whole trip. I want to separate all the bullshit from reality about traveling in SEA. In other words, don't listen to people that have never done it.)

Which leaves me to another important aspect of my trip. I was asked by lots of friends, why in gods name don't I take a flight there?

Simple. I wasn't going as a tourist, nor as a shopping spree maniac. I was going as a backpacker. And the main difference between a tourist and a backpacker (at least to me) is:-

a) A tourist is like a guest that goes into a shop, looks around, probably buys something, and then leaves. Sometimes they come in groups, but the scenario is still the same; come in, see, buy, go out.

b) A true backpacker is like an exchange student that actually comes in a shop and hangs out at the shop. Or even sometimes ask for a part time job. In other words, a backpacker is someone who wants to experience the place he is visiting.

Meaning, I wanted to experience Thailand. I wanted to see how the landscape changes as I journey by land, as I pass the border, and as I pass it's cities. I wanted to feel how a Thai lives, how they go about their lives. I wanted to be them, just for awhile. Being a Sarawakian, I always smirk at people that have gone to Cultural Village in Kuching and say that they've been to a long house, and every Sarawakian knows that the real Laksa Sarawak can only be bought from the stalls in Kuching, not KL. I didn't want to fall into that styreotype. Plus, it's cheaper than flying, and I made sure that all my trips throughout my journey was going to be overnight, so that I got both the experience and also a place to sleep for the night. By the next morning I'd be in another place, and a new day of adventure would be waiting for me.

(Throughout my journey, I managed to experience almost every type of transport they had in Thailand, and I must say that it was a decision I don't regret, because I met so many people, Thai and westerners, and tasted the lives of the Thai people that a tourist would never know. In fact, even the experience of a long distance bus ride in Thailand is so different from our buses in Malaysia; something I will share with you all as my story progresses. Stay tuned.)

So, to get back to the story, I rush off to Puduraya Bus Station to look for a bus to Hatyai. I was determined to leave that night, and I figured that I can use the train next time.

After looking through all the booths at Puduraya, I finally decide to take the 10pm bus that night. I chose the Konsortium SB doubledecker executive couch.

40 ringgit, 7hr journey, big, plush reclining seats. Lovely.

I go home, get my stuff, have dinner and head back to Puduraya to wait for my bus. I reach Puduraya a few minutes past 9pm. I find a place to sit and anxiously wait for my journey to really begin. I silently watch the buzz of activity around me. I make a silent prayer for my safety on this trip and I return home in one peace.

I had no idea what this trip had in store for me...

Where Will The Journey Of Life Take Me?

2006-01-06T12:07:00.000+08:00

Bangkok Train Station.

Goodbye 2005. It's been real.

Happy New Year, everyone. I know it's kinda late, but I've only just been able to get my head together after a very intense and memorable December & New Year's Celebration.

As some of you know, I went on a 2 week solo backpacking trip to the Land of Smiles prior to New Year's Eve. I also had the best New Year's I've ever had in a long, long time. Maybe even the best ever.

I'm dying to blurt out the whole saga in one whole post, but that would take eons to type, and eons to read. So for today, I'm just gonna start off with a little teaser.

Backpacking Thailand
About 4000km in 14days.

Kuala Lumpur - Hatyai - Chumpon - Bangkok - Surathani - Dongsak Pier - Koh Samui - Koh Phangan - Dongsak - Surathani - Hatyai - Kuala Lumpur.

One backpack, one passport, 5000baht, 1 atm card, 2 credit cards, one lonely planet guide book, one travel journal, and a pair of slightly scared testicals.

Thai people, Thai food, Floods & Emergency, Brits, Yanks, Canadians, Scotts, Swede, Swiss, Japs, Jews, German Girl, Khao San Road, Tuk-tuks, Stolen Digicam, Patpong Strippers, Ping-pong Balls, Had Rin Beach, Drugs, Sex, & Alchohol, F.T.C., Four-day-Amnesia, stupid farangs, dressed up animals, stranded in Hatyai, etc, not in that particular order.

Things went wrong, things went right. But if I could do it again, I'd do it in a heartbeat. 2 weeks, 1500 Ringgit. Amazing Thailand.

I will post day-by-day blogs based on my travel journal, starting off with my personal preperations for the trip. Maybe my blog can be a rough guide of sorts for any Malaysian that wants to travel on the cheap to Thailand.

New Year Celebration
48hrs, Kuala Lumpur, Genting, and true friends. Priceless.

Meanwhile, stay tuned...

Merry Christmas!

2005-12-25T12:10:00.000+08:00

Sawadi Khrap, everyone!

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas from the land of smiles, Thailand. I'm on Koh Pha Ngan Island right now, and I'll be back in a few days time. So I wont be posting anything till after that. Till then....

Bangkok Drifter

2005-12-21T12:12:00.000+08:00

I'm somewhere in Bangkok. It's my fourth day here. Lots of stories, but I think I'll share them only when I get back. I'll just say that backpacking alone is an experience in it's own right. Till nest time, cheers and beers, people. God bless.

Keepin' It Real, R&B Style

2005-12-12T20:00:00.000+08:00

This is going to be one of my rather unusual posts. It might be of no relevance and interest to anyone else but myself, but I'm compelled to blurt this out.

I've been an R&B guy for as long as I can remember. It was the only type of music that I actually enjoyed when I went to clubs. Anything else just bored the begezuss out of me. And potentially piss me off too.

But the past two years have been a slow re-evaluation of that view of mine. I started to notice that R&B clubs and parties kind of sucked. Bigtime.

Yeah. Call me fresh out of the forest, but I grew up on R&B shit. School parties, and friend outings were always thumping out R&B music. And to be honest, I still enjoy the music.

But I've begun to hate the crowd. It's not like what it used to be (especially right here in KL). Nowadays, the R&B crowd seems to think that they're on some Snoop Dog video and should behave and act accordingly; all the time. And nobody seems to actually be there for the music and to have a good time. It's more like a competition rather than anything else anymore. A competition of who can shake their ass better than the next person. A competition of who's more "bling-bling". And it's definitely not a place to socialize and meet new people because every women thinks that every guy wants to get in their pants.

"Keepin' it real". Right.

Well, here's my say. If I meet a "nice hot thing" in any club anywhere, and she just happens to have the urge to blow me and subsequently hump me senseless, by all means, I WILL TAKE HER HOME AND SCREW HER BRAINS OUT. So what's my point? The only place a guy would (probably) not try to make sexual advances on the opposite sex is in a church/mosque/religious place.

Ok. Before you guys start saying stuff like, "Ahhh. He got brushed off by a chick", let explain further. You see, as a guy (and I'm pretty sure most guys, if being honest to themselves, would agree), I go clubbing (saying I'm not with a female partner) for the following reasons:-

1. To have a good time.
2. To look at scantily dressed women shake and dance as if they have an inner itching that severely needs some "scratching".
3. To pick up, if possible, one of those women, and bring her home and have a wild night of sex (blowjob included, anal optional).
4. If no.3 is not possible, then a friendly chat with some nice pleasant girl would suffice. (And I mean that!) Meaning, yes, it would be nice to go to bed with a complete stranger, but gezz, nobody is going to rip your clothes off in the middle of the club, and I sure as hell ain't there for confession!

This brings me to the following points:-

1. These are the MAIN and most probably, the ONLY reasons guys go to clubs. Because:-
2. We know that there are no camera's or movie scouts around that will potentially make any women in a club (regardless if they're on the dance floor, stage, or bartop) famous and the next top supermodel.
3. So, we also know that women should be intelligent enough to figure this out, else she'd be in a church or as dumb as we've always feared. If any of you ladies never figured this out, I believe there's a friendly neighborhood church/mosque/temple near your house somewhere.

What I'm trying to say is, the R&B crowd just doesn't understand the 'concept' anymore. Going out to clubs IS about meeting new people, socializing, and having a good time. It involves strangers talking to each other, and guys (as well as women) flirting with the opposite sex. If clubs were featured on a National Geographic Special, it'd be called a human mating ground. And when u think about it, it really is.

But now, it just isn't that anymore. It's treated as a mass Malaysian Idol audition where everyone else is your enemy or competitor. Hence, we get the snobbish women, the Snoop Dog wannabes, the strange feeling of being surrounded by a large crowd but not feeling a part of it, and (worse case scenario) fights, stabbings, brawls and murders.

The R&B scene just doesn't seem worth it for me anymore.

Maybe that's why I've since become a raver. But that's a different story altogether; which I'll share with you guys another day.

Till then, beers and cheers people.

"Tenjewberrymuds"

2005-12-12T12:28:00.000+08:00

I got this from a friend through email. Hilarious.

Can you make any sense of this conversation? I did .... hahaha

To get the full effect, this should be read aloud. You will understand what 'tenjewberrymuds' means by the end of the conversation. This has been nominated for the best email of 2005.

The following is a telephone exchange between a hotel guest and room-service, at a hotel in Asia, which was recorded and published in the Far East Economic Review:

Room Service (RS): "Morrin. Roon sirbees."

Guest (G): "Sorry, I thought I dialed room-service."

RS: "Rye..Roon sirbees..morrin! Jewish to oddor sunteen??"

G: "Uh..yes..I'd like some bacon and eggs."

RS: "Ow July den?"

G: "What??"

RS: "Ow July den?...pryed, boyud, poochd?"

G : "Oh, the eggs! How do I like them? Sorry, scrambled please."

RS: "Ow July dee baykem? Crease?"

G: "Crisp will be fine."

RS : "Hokay. An Sahn toes?"

G: "What?"

RS: "An toes. July Sahn toes?"

G: "I don't think so."

RS: "No? Judo wan sahn toes??"

G: "I feel really bad about this, but I don't know what 'judo wansahn toes' means."

RS: "Toes! toes!...Why jew don juan toes? Ow bow Anglish moppin we bodder?"

G: "English muffin!! I've got it! You were saying 'Toast.' Fine.Yes, an English muffin will be fine."

RS: "We bodder?"

G: "No...just put the bodder on the side."

RS: "Wad?"

G: "I mean butter...just put it on the side."

RS: "Copy?"

G: "Excuse me?"

RS: "Copy...tea...meel?"

G: "Yes. Coffee, please, and that's all."

RS: "One Minnie. Scramah egg, crease baykem, Anglish moppin webodder on sigh and copy....rye??"

G: "Whatever you say."

RS: "Tenjewberrymuds."

G : "You're very welcome."

The Journey, The Plan.

2005-12-08T12:28:00.000+08:00

The past couple of weeks have been a chaotic mixture of finishing up the year-end work at the office and preparing for my personal trip to Thailand.

"Big deal", you might say. Been there, done that, right?

Well, after months (more than a year, to be exact) of inviting every imaginable person to hitch along, I've found that the only way I'll make this trip happen is to do it the way I've always done things; alone.

That's right. I'm going backpacking (unlike most Malaysians, I'm gonna backpack for real!) and it seems that I'm going to have to do it solo.

It's kind of ironic. I've climbed Mt Santubong three times, and they were all solo. I even slept on the peak, alone.

I traveled the whole length of the Sarawakian trunk (main) road/highway on my bike(s), alone.

In fact, it seems throughout my whole young life, I've done so many things solo, I just can't keep count. Maybe it's just a case of wrong timing and a little bit more balls than most. (Ok, I know that sounds like bragging, maybe I'm just a bit bitter).

I've been planning this trip for more than a year now. And after all that's been happening in my life, this is how I've decided to end the year. Hey, if the "Mat Sallehs" can do it, why can't I?

At the end of the day, to be really honest, I can't wait to earn bragging rights for this trip. I mean, how many Sarawakians (or Malaysians, for that matter) out there can say that they did a two week backpacking trip abroad, alone? Yeah, I know people that have gone in groups, solo business trips, visited relatives, etc, with 3-5 star accommodation included. But not like this. At least none that I know personally. It'd be a good story for the grandkids.

But I also have to admit that I'm also a little "chicken little". I've gone abroad numerous times, but never alone. Sometimes the trips were pre-arranged by other people and all I had to do was follow the flow. This one is going to be a real adventure, with a limited budget, and no one but myself to depend on.

The Plan:
I should be leaving KL by train on the night of the 16th of December. I plan to spend a night in Hatyai before moving on to Bangkok by train again. That means I'll be in Bangkok by latest, the 19th. I'll spend a few nights in Bangkok, staying at the backpacker inns, and checking out the nightlife (stripclubs included!), and what not. I have to reach Dongsak Ferry, Surathani by the 22nd, meaning I have to travel back down south again on the 21st. From Sutarthani, I'll catch the ferry to Koh Pha Ngan Island and spend my Christmas there. I should be back in KL by the 29th, just in time for New Year.

My Main Tools of Choice:

2005-12-08T12:26:00.000+08:00

My new Deuter Quatum 55+10 Travel Backpack.

2005-12-08T12:24:00.000+08:00

My Deuter backpack, rear view.

2005-12-08T12:23:00.000+08:00

My Lonely Planet guidebook.

2005-12-08T12:17:00.000+08:00

Thailand, here I come...

Sex Facts

2005-12-05T12:43:00.000+08:00

About Guys
1) 94% of men lie about their penis size.According to condom manufacturers, only 6% ofmen use extra large condoms.
2) The average man is 5 inches long when erect(no matter what you have heard ladies, that's thetruth).
3) 80% of American men are circumsized. Eventhough Pediatrics say it is not necessary.
4) No matter what all the ads say, nothing canmake your penis grow but time (most men reachthe end of their growth by the early 20's)
5) There is no correlation between penis size andshoe size, hand size, or nose size.
6) Blue balls does exist! It's technicallycalled "prostatic congestion."
7) Only 16% of men shave their privates.

Some stuff on the ladies
1) Only 9% of women around the globe considerthemselves "attractive" (20% of British women do).43% of women use the term "natural", 24% saythey have "average" looks, 8% prefer theterm "feminine", 7% say they are "good looking",and 7% say they are "cute", and finally only 2% ofwomen say they are "sexy".
2) An estimated 85% of women wear the wrongsize bra.
3) 60% of women have had breast implants.
4) 75% of women dont like oral sex5) 95% of women shave their privates.

Both
1) Masturbation is healthy for both men andwomen.
2) 70% of highschoolers have had sex before theyhave graduated. 27% loose their virginity seniorprom night. Only 3% wait until marriage.
3) 95% of men would have sex with a girl after 1month of dating. Only 10% of women feel this way.

5 Reasons Why Sex is Good
1) It is a good workout. Sex burns about 150calories every half an hour of it. It will lower yourcholesterol and improve breathing circulation.
2) You won't get sick. According to research if youhave sex 1-2 times a week you are less likely toget sick.
3) You'll feel happier. You will feel a greater senseof well-being. Women who have more sex wereclinically proven to be less depressed than womenwho dont have sex.
4) Makes you look better- [ problem is ugly peopledon`t get any ]. Sex releases hormones in yourbody which make your skin and hair softer andshinier and tone your physic.
5) (The best reason) You will live longer. Studiesprove that sex makes you live longer. Men whohad sex 1-2 times a week had half the death rateas those who did not indulge themselves at leastonce a month. It also makes you look younger. Ifyou have sex 3 times a week you may look up to10 years younger than you really are.

Microsoft vs Toyota

2005-12-03T13:59:00.000+08:00

For all of us who feel only the deepest love and affection for the way computers have enhanced our lives, read on.

At a recent computer expo (COMDEX), Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and stated, "If Toyota had kept up with technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving $25.00 cars that got 1,000 miles to the gallon."

In response to Bill's comments, TOYOTA issued a press release stating:

If Toyota had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars with the following characteristics (and I just love this part):

1. For no reason whatsoever, your car would crash twice a day.

2. Every time they repainted the lines in the > road, you would have to buy a new car.

3. Occasionally your car would die on the freeway for no reason. You would have to pull to the side of the road, close all of the windows, shut off the car, restart it, and reopen the windows before you could continue. For some reason you would simply accept this.

4. Occasionally, executing a maneuver such as a left turn would cause your car to shut down and refuse to restart, in which case you would have to reinstall the engine.

5. Macintosh would make a car that was powered by the sun, was reliable, five times as fast and twice as easy to drive - but would run on only fivepercent of the roads.

6. The oil, water temperature, and alternator warning lights would all be replaced by a single "This Car Has Performed An Illegal Operation" warning light.

7. The airbag system would ask "Are you sure?" before deploying.

8. Occasionally, for no reason whatsoever, your car would lock you out and refuse to let you in until you simultaneously lifted the door handle, turned the key and grabbed hold of the radio antenna.

9. Every time a new car was introduced car buyers would have to learn how to drive all over again because none of the controls would operate in the same manner as the old car.

10. You'd have to press the "Start" button to turn the engine off.

The Wife Who Wanted Breast Implants

2005-11-30T10:13:00.000+08:00

A woman was wanting to get breast implants. She asked her husband, "Do you think we can afford $5000 to get me some bigger boobs?" The husband replied, "Honey, I have a perfect solution to this problem and it won't cost us a dime. Just take some toilet paper and rub it between your breasts over and over and your boobs will get bigger." "How on Earth will that work?," the wife asked. "I don't know how it works, but it sure did work on your ass after all these years and look how big it has become!"

Genesis Revisited

2005-11-14T16:31:00.000+08:00

Sometimes, once in a blue moon, you learn something about yourself that kind of shuts you up for awhile and puts things in a totally different light.

On Sunday afternoon, while hanging out with my visiting auntie and her family, I had the good fortune of learning the true scenario that surrounded my coming into this world.

You see, my mother passed away five years ago, at a much too early of an age (at least to me) and with her, many family secrets and stories had been lost.

Incidentally, Sunday was the day I was to learn about the actual circumstances that surrounded my own birth, something that had always intrigued me, but had never been very clearly told. Maybe it's something every person should know, so as to understand the pain and hardship that our mothers go through when delivering a child. When Mum passed away, I was afraid that I would never learn the truth.

So what's the big deal, you ask? Well, honestly, nothing "Academy-award-winning" tragic, if you know what I mean. Just that, I wasn't born in a hospital. I entered this world sometime at midnight in a secluded longhouse somewhere in the vast rainforests of Sarawak. Which is rather ironic to me considering the fact that right now I'm in a high rise office building in the middle of Kuala Lumpur posting this story of mine on my internet blog.

This is what she told me.

"It was 1977, and to put it honestly, Sarawak at the time was more or less third world. The longhouse that you were born in was a timber-structured Iban longhouse that our ancestors had made more than a hundred years ago. There was no electricity and no modern plumbing. The heads of our ancestor's enemies swayed on our ceilings, and the 'parangs' that slay them hung on the walls. (I remember seeing these things clearly when I was a child)
It was close to midnight, and a very young women (by today's standards), your late mother, lay in labor. She was accompanied by your grandparents and two other elders. Her husband, your father, was absent because he was in Kuching at the time. We, her siblings, had been ordered to stay put in bed and not come out, because for children to see actual childbirth was considered a serious taboo. But I could still hear everything that was going on clearly, as the walls of longhouses can never insolate sound very well. The longhouse had no actual living 'bidan" (midwife) so death during childbirth was a rather normal occurrence at the time. And unlike today's child-labor training classes where women are coached on breathing and delivery techniques, giving birth in 1977 in a longhouse meant almost zero preparation and zero technique. What made things more absurd was that in the olden days, a women giving birth was expected to keep noise to a minimum. In other words, childbirth was supposed to be in silence. So whatever breathing pattern a women had for herself had to be as inaudible as possible.
When the baby (meaning myself) was finally out, it didn't make a sound because it's mouth and nasal passages had been blocked by fluids. In other words, the baby was drowning. And time was running out. As there was no midwife around and the persons present had no experience in delivering a child (because I was the first grandchild of the family), panic engulfed the room.
Not knowing what to do, Grandma rushed to the next room and begged for help. A man known to me only by the name 'Apai Cynthia' rushed over to help. He had experience in this kind of complication and took out a piece of his cigarette leaf (used to roll tobacco into a cigarette; a predecessor to the normal cigarette paper). He rolled it up into a small funnel and used it to suck out the fluids so as to allow the baby to breath.

A minute later, the little baby let out a cry. And we all shed a tear listening to the cry of a new life into the family."

My mother also survived, which was considered a blessing, since, like what my auntie had said, the mortality rate in childbirth at the time was about 50%. (In retrospect, my distant cousin, Lobo (as they call him), wasn't so lucky. His mother died shortly after his birth due to severe loss of blood, and his father subsequently left his family, probably because of grief. That was in 1979. He never knew his parents.)

But I never got to meet the man that helped save me, "Apai Cynthia", and I never will, because he passed away a few years ago due to old age. It would have been nice to say thank you and shake his hand, even though he probably wouldn't have remembered me.

Nevertheless, I can't help but try to imagine what it was like in those hard times, when life was truly survival of the fittest and fate was really in the hands of god.

What DID Neil Armstrong say when he was on the moon?

2005-11-11T16:15:00.000+08:00

I got this somewhere off the internet, and is claimed to be true.

When Apollo Mission Astronaut Neil Armstrong first walked on the moon, he not only gave his famous "One Small Step for Man, One Giant Leap for Mankind" statement, but followed it by several remarks - usual com traffic between him, the other astronauts and Mission Control. Before he re-entered the lander, he made the enigmatic remark "Good luck, Mr. Gorsky."
Many people at NASA thought it was a casual remark concerning some rival Soviet Cosmonaut; however, upon checking, there was no Gorsky in either the Russian or American space programs.
Over the years, many people have questioned him as to what the "Good luck, Mr. Gorsky" statement meant. On July 5, in Tampa Bay, FL, while answering questions following a speech, a reporter brought up the 26 year old question to Armstrong. He finally responded. It seems that Mr. Gorsky had died and so Armstrong felt he could answer the question. When he was a kid, Neil was playing baseball with his brother in the backyard. His brother hit a fly ball which landed in front of his neighbors' bedroom window. The neighbors were Mr and Mrs. Gorksy. As he leaned down to pick up the ball, he heard Mrs. Gorsky shouting at Mr. Gorsky, "Oral sex? Oral sex you want? You'll get oral sex when the kid next door walks on the moon!"

Priceless...

2005-11-11T10:48:00.000+08:00

What can you say...

Post-Deeparaya Boredom and The Male Project

2005-11-10T17:22:00.000+08:00

I find that posting on this blog of mine has become increasingly harder to do as of late. And the only reason for this being so is the lack of subject matter that has been running through my daily life.

In other words, nothing inspiring has happened lately. Which also means that I have no life. Or so it seems, I guess.

That trip abroad that I was planning has to wait, and my working, as well as personal life is at a virtual standstill.

Which, incidently, brings me to a side of male life that I've thought about before, and that I've long since forgotten.

You see, a couple of years ago, I made an interesting observation of the male psyche. I noticed that every sane man needs a personal hobby/project of some sort. In some instances, these hobbies/projects were a lot more incandescent than others.

Now, let me explain. Let's take our fathers as examples. Notice that while some fathers had obvious hobbies like golf, fishing, basketball, or some other physical activity, others, like mine, had very strange ones, that many had mistaken for just plain weird behaviour.

My father has/had two main "hobbies" that he engages in for the last couple of years: mowing the grass of our lawn, and expanding/renovating our family house (in what ever manner possible). While this may not seem too strange initially, let me assure you, to others in my immediate family, it seemingly brinks on insanity.

My father is an educated man. He has an average life, and could take up anything average that any average man could do. Golf? No. Football? Did it in his young life. Cars? Too complicated. Mow the lawn and expand the house beyond comprehension? Yes please!

I once knew a friend who's father had his own parculiar hobby. Everyday after work, while waiting for his wife (my friends mum) to cook, he would stuff the days laundry into the washing machine and gaze into the machine to watch the whole cycle; from start to finish.

And what about the fathers that hung out at coffee shops every moment they could? And the ones that go fishing regardless of weather? Hobbies, my friend. Like it or not.

The point is, men need some kind of "project" to keep their sanity intact. While women are technically less complicated when it comes to routine (all they need is a good few hours of shopping), men need something else, far beyond money and work. You know the unfaithful husbands that can't stop cheating on their wives for any reason whatsoever? The problem is, those guys cant find any other "hobby" or "project" other than to screw other women. In other words, screwing around IS their hobby!

Give this male project/hobby thing a thought. It just might give you a new perspective of things.

Happy Deepavali, Happy Raya

2005-10-25T13:29:00.000+08:00

Deepavali and Hari Raya (Eid) are just around the corner. Ironic, though, coz while the mood is there, it sure has almost nothing to do with me.

Everybody's going home and colleages have been asking if I'll be around the office at the time. And seeing that a week's trip to Thailand would be cheaper than going back home to Kuching during that time, I figure that I would be around.

Which is both good and bad. Good because I can save the money that otherwise would be easily spent on all things Kuching. Bad because that's about five days of nothing to do. Everybody's gone 'balik kampung', so I dont expect a sellout crowd at Zouk, if you know what I mean.

In actuality, I was planning to go to Thailand during that long holiday, but my current situation doesn't allow it. For one, my boss says that I can't have any leave around that time because I'm non-muslim, and non-hindu, and I have to cover for everyone else. OK. Fair enough. Just don't complain when I take the remaining 21 days of leave during Christmas. That's three freakin' weeks, baby.

Secondly, my girlfriend from Kuching is here till after Raya, and seeing that she doesn't have a passport, I can't drag her to Thailand, or Singapore, or anywhere else for that matter. Which means we're kinda stuck in West Malaysia, and certain boredom. Damn.

It's a funny time of the year though, especially for me, because, like I said, the joy is there, but it sure as hell ain't for me. I'd probably have more joy in watching my porn dvds.

Cheers. And lots of beers.

Malaysian Movies Suck

2005-10-18T16:09:00.000+08:00

I'm sorry for saying this, but, yes, Malaysian movies suck, bigtime.

I've been watching alot of ASEAN movies lately, just for kicks, and found it rather an eye opener. Everybody knows that Japanese, Korean and Thai movies are decades in front of ours, but what struck me as surprising was that Indonesian movies are also much better than our best effort. (e.g. Puteri Gunung Ledang)

I took a chance at watching KL Menjerit 1 recently, and the only thing commendable about this movie was the rather intense and realistic street racing scenes. But that's it. Lousy editing, lousy sound, lousy acting, lousy effort of a movie. Is that the best you can do, Malaysia??? I don't know about you guys, but for me, when I'm watching a "serious" movie (as opposed to a comedy/nonsense movie), I expect realistic characters with realistic traits. Everytime I watch a local movie, I end up feeling insulted because at the end of the day, you realise that no normal malaysian actually behaves like those depicted in our films.

Now take recent Indonesian examples like Janji Joni, Ada Apa Dengan Cinta, Ungu Violet, Virgin, and Pasir Berbisik. Despite having fictional elements in their storyline, viewers still end up connecting with the characters on a level almost impossible on a mainstream Malaysian flick.

In short, Indonesian movies are capable of doing something that Malaysian movies can't. They can connect with viewers on a emotional and realistic level. And Indonesia is supposed to be less developed than us. "Sure o' not?"

What does Malaysia offer it's people? Souped-up, over-priced mellow-dramatic soap operas. Sorry, but I think we have enough of that on normal television, don't you think? And what about the recycling of actors? Movies without Rosyam Nor, Erra Fazira, etc, aren't considered movies in Malaysia, are they? And does anyone really see a character that they can connect with? I can't.

Which brings me to another movie; The Legend of The Red Curse. I've not seen it, but the initial reviews of it that I've read are, to put it lightly, as expected. What made the producers think that beauty pageant winners automatically equaled good acting?

Good movies are made from good scripts and good screenplays, just like how a beautiful flower has to come from a good seed, and good gardening, if you know what I mean. If you want an effective horror flick, get somebody who knows his horror flicks well to write the screenplay, not just some dude that has seen chinese vampire movies and ringu for fun all his life.

Think of it this way; why do japanese and korean horror movies do so well, especially in Asia? Because the producers start off with a basis for the movie that most viewers can connect with.

Take Ju-on for example. Asian culture is steep in superstition, and one universally accepted version (at least in Asia) of ghosts is the long-haired "pontianak". Add in the asian flavoured "funny noises" like the ones we always tell our friends about, e.g. crying babies, strange animal/insect like noises, and you've got something made. That's why Malaysians love Jap and Korean movies; because we can connect to them in some way. They're somehow, believable.

Here's my suggestion: If I were the producer/director/screenwriter/scriptwriter, there would a few local elements I would inject in my movie, i.e.

1. The story of how "pontianaks"/"Kuril" always feed on womens menstrual blood. Why not make a scene where a a character has a encounter with it in the toilet eating on a menstrual towel?

2. The famous "nice smell, don't mention" situation. Everybody knows that "if you smell something nice, don't say anything about it, coz it is already near" story.

3. An interesting element would be the famous "Hantu Timpa" legend. This is where an unseen entity holds you down when you sleep, and where the person is actually awake but can't move or say anything.

Think about it. Scary enough? All you need is a little imagination.

Unfortunately, to be involved in the Malaysian movie industry has a direct connection with who you know and what racial segment you come from, and not your potential. And that's why Malaysian movies will suck for a long time to come.

Happy movie watching, folks!

At Last, On-line again!

2005-10-06T12:25:00.000+08:00

Hello folks!

I know it's been quite awhile. I've been unable to log on to blogger for quite awhile because my office server banned sites like blogger because "it disrupts workflow". But finally, today, I've managed to log on. Hallelujah! Hehe. It's good to be back.

So, for starters, I'm just gonna post some jokes, just to get u guys in the mood.

Behind every successful woman, there is a satisfied man.
but behind a satisfied woman, there is an exhausted man

An arab was being interviewed at a UScheckpoint.
'Your name pls.'?
"Abdul Aziz "
"Sex? "
"Six times a week!! "
"No, no, I mean male or female! "
"Doesn't matters, sometimes even camel !"

Sex is like a restaurant.
Sometimes you get full satisfactory service,
and sometimes you have to be satisfied
with self-service"

What makes a happy man?
Daughter on the cover of cosmo.
Son on the cover of sports illustrated.
Mistress on the cover of playboy
and .. Wife on the cover of "missing persons"

Why was the 2-piece swimsuit invented?
To separate the HAIRY section from the DAIRY section.

Teacher: What do you want to become?
Little Johnny: Doctor !!
Teacher: Why?
Little Johnny: Coz its the only profession
where u can tell a woman to take off her
clothes and ask her husband to pay for it

Woman complaining to dentist: "It ' s so painful, I'll rather have a baby than have a tooth removed.
Dentist: "Make up your mind soon, I'll adjust the chair
accordingly."

Old lady, 85, a virgin, about to die. wanted her tombstone to read :
BORN A VIRGIN, LIVED A VIRGIN, DIED A VIRGIN.
The engraver shortened it to: " RETURNED UNOPENED"

75 yr old man got married to a 15 yr old girl.
On their first night both were crying - why???
Coz she didn't know anything, and
he had forgotten everything.

Local news:
Subject: Samy Vellu Berjaya menyelesaikan Isu AP Dalam sidang parlimen yg lepas Dtk Seri S. Samy Vellu yg juga Presiden MIC telah berjaya menyelesaikan kemelut isu AP antara bekas PM Tun Dr. Mahathir dengan Menteri MITI Dtk Seri Rafidah Aziz. Idea beliau sangat bernas dengan memasukkan fakta persaudaraan dan persefahaman.Berikut adalah kenyataan beliau yang telah diringkaskan. "Tuan yg Dipertua, Selaku menteri kabinet, ali Barisan Nasyenel dan Presiden YemAiSi... saya teylah berbincangkan Wissyu AP ini dalam mesyuarat YemAiSi yang lipas dingan sepanjang lebarnya. Akhirnya YemAiSi dengan sebulat-bulatnya suara tilah mencadangkan kepada Yangamaberomat Pedanamentri supayye wisyu wini disilisaikan dingan simangat pesefaman dan persodaran yang kekal antara Rafidah sama TuMahadey. Ini idea tilahpun lama diterimapakey woleh suummmmmmmmmma ali-ali YemAiSi termaso ali kuluarga saya sindirri. Maka dingan ini YemAiSi dengan amat paling bangganya kasi wumumkan yang kami dari YemAisi mencadangkan supaya dengan tanpa silu-segannya Menteri MITI misti mau kasi guna ini nama mula dari sekarang... RAFIDAH A/P MAHATHIR."

Did U Know???

2005-09-22T12:05:00.000+08:00

1. Bill Gates earns US$250 every SECOND, that's about
US$20 Million a DAY and US$7.8 Billion a YEAR!

2. If he drops a thousand dollars, he won't even bother
to pick it up bcoz the 4 seconds he picks it, he
would've already earned it back.

3. The US national debt is about 5.62 trillion,
if Bill Gates were to pay the debt by himself;
he will finish it in less then 10 years.

4. He can donate US$15 to everyone on earth but
still be left with US$5 Million for his pocket money.

5. Michael Jordan is the highest paid athlete in
US. If he doesn't drink and eat, and keeps up his annual income
i.e. US$30 Million, he'll have to wait for 277 years to become as
rich as Bill Gates is now.

6. If Bill Gates was a country, he would be the
37th richest country on earth.

7. If you change all of Bill Gate's money to US$1 notes,
you can make a road from the earth to moon, 14 times back and
forth.
But you have to make that road non-stop for 1,400 years, and use
a total of 713 BOEING 747 planes to transport all the money.

8. Bill Gates is 40 this year. If we assume that
he will live for another 35 years, he has to spend US$6.78 Million
per day to finish all his money before he dies.

Last but not the least : My Favorite........!!!

If Microsoft Windows' users can claim US$1 for
every time their computers hang because of Microsoft Windows,
Bill Gates will be bankrupt in 3 years!!!

My Obsession...

2005-09-21T11:48:00.000+08:00

She was in Mid Valley, KL recently. And this was as close as I ever got to her.

2005-09-21T11:35:00.000+08:00

I have a problem. I'm obsessed with this women. I can't get her out of my mind. Her name is Dian Sastro. Indonesia's current top actress.

16th September : Malaysia Day

2005-09-17T14:00:00.000+08:00

There's been a bit of talk on the blogosphere of this date, especially by Sarawakian bloggers.

For the uninitiated, 16 September is the day when Sarawak and Sabah were released from the British and Malaysia was formed. This, at least to me, and I believe many East Malaysians, is the true Merdeka Day. The Colonel has a more in-depth explanation of it here, and you'll find that he's done his homework.

At first, I wasn't planning to blog anything about this subject since a lot of bloggers have already done so. But then, I decided that being a Sarawakian, especially one living in west Malaysia, I should give my two cents worth.

Well, to put it short, West Malaysians don't know anything about this day. And honestly, I don't think they give a rats ass. It's not important to them. And there's not much anybody can do to change that.

But I think it's important that all East Malaysians remember this. It's what makes us different from them (West Malaysians), and what makes us special. To know and understand the importance of 16th September may actually help to spurn unity among East Malaysians to a point where every race is equal, and Sarawakians will help Sarawakians, regardless of race, religion or creed. (But then again, that sounds more like wishful thinking from me).

And West Malaysians should at least ponder on what Malaya would be like today, had the formation of Malaysia not take place. Especially since Sarawak and Sabah are a major source of income for the federal government. I'm lazy to go into the details, but West Malaysia would be nowhere close to what it is today if there was no East Malaysia. And that is a fact.

Fucking Firewall

2005-09-17T13:31:00.000+08:00

I know. I've been offline for quite awhile again. This time it wasn't because of too much work. Evidently, my office has just installed some software on the server to keep us out of porn and chat sites. The problem is, it also prevents access to alot of other normal sites, including Blogger Dashboard.

All I can say is, fuck that shit. I had no choice but to go to a cyber cafe'. So here I am.

In retrospect, it's strange how I've bonded with my blog. Being unable to blog actually agitated me to a certain degree. I didn't like the idea that I had people visiting my blog and find that there was nothing new on it. I had so many things to blog about but yet I couldn't do anything about it. It was like waking up in the morning and finding out that I was mute.

Well, at least now, I'm back online. And I'm going to make sure that I try to blog at least once a week. For my sanity's sake.

All Things Merdeka

2005-09-05T11:39:00.000+08:00

Merdeka has just past. As usual, it was a Merdeka like every other Merdeka day I've had.

Lots of partying.
Lots of drinking.
Lots of traffic.
Lots of noise.
Lots of chaos.
Lots of nothing related to Merdeka itself.

To be really honest, I dont care much for Merdeka. I'm not trying to be anti-patriotic, mind you. I just think that unless we all call ourselves "Malaysian" instead of "Malay/Chinese/Indian/Iban/etc", we dont deserve to use the word Merdeka.

In fact, I just bought a copy of a Lonely Planet travel guide. What struck me was the authors' description of the Malaysian populace.

"Malaysia is more a collection of different races trying to co-exist in peace rather than an actual nationalistic Malaysian race." or something to that effect.

Foreigners notice it. Why is it that we don't?

On another note, I actually have a video clip of the parliment "fiasco" of MP & Deputy Minister Sothinathan that lead to his 3 month suspension. The press said it was due to him questioning government policy aka misbehaving. But read the truth here and tell me what you think about our MPs. If this is what Merdeka means, than we should all weep for our beloved Malaysia.

I've decided not to link the video clip on this blog to avoid "unwanted attention". But if any of u out there want to see it, leave your email and I'd gladly mail it to you. (Note: The clip is 3mb).

Back from Redang, again...

2005-08-25T11:29:00.000+08:00

I just returned from Redang Island a couple of days ago. I had to catch up on some office work so I didn't have time to post anything.

This time I managed to take better photos with a better camera, but I regret not buying one of those water-proof types. It would have been amazing if I could have taken photos of the coral and fish. But no matter, I'm sure I'll go back there sometime soon.

I'm sure some of you are wondering what business I have there, so the story is I have to assist/consult on the management/maintenance of the infrastructure (buildings) of the Redang Marine Park. It's not my main job, but the Marine Park has no qualified staff to oversee the engineering aspect of the park, so I've been called to help out when needed. In fact, this time around, it was a business cum pleasure trip. Not that I'm complaining. It's a beautiful place. I urge all of you to visit the place. You wont regret it.

Redang is off the shores of Terrengganu/Kelantan and is about 1hr 15min boat ride from Kuala Terrengganu jetty. It'll cost u RM40/person/trip. Actually, taking a package trip is less of a headache, and probably cheaper, but I find it's still a bit expensive. On average, 3days-2nights inclusive of food, lodging, snorkeling and transport (from K.T. airport) will be about RM398 per person. (Thankfully, my job permits me to go there for free or if on holiday, at half that cost.)

Ironically, the ferry / express boat (which looks like "Express Bahagia" back in Sarawak) is actually made and run by a company that runs the express boats back in Sarawak! Even the driver and most of it's crew is Sarawakian! Pleasent surprise, I must say.

If any of you do decide to go, use a flight, but if you decide to rough it by bus, just dont use Transnasional buses. They suck, and the staff are a pain in the rectum. Just IMHO. It's a long story, but let's just say that the bus journey was the only thorn in my whole trip.

On another note, I find it sad that Sarawak has no coral beaches. But I've been told that Pulau Satang Besar has an artficially made coral reef (meaning it wasn't there naturally, but "planted" there by scientists a couple of years ago). I've never been there myself, so anyone care to give their opinion about it?

View from my chalet...

2005-08-25T11:27:00.000+08:00

The dark patches in the water is actually coral, not rock.

2005-08-25T11:25:00.000+08:00

Another pic of the snorkeling area

2005-08-25T11:24:00.000+08:00

Blue skies, and a palm tree

2005-08-25T11:21:00.000+08:00

Desolate, but beautiful...

2005-08-25T11:20:00.000+08:00

No words can describe this...

2005-08-25T11:19:00.000+08:00

A few more pictures of Redang Island

Redang, Her I Come! (Again)

2005-08-19T16:00:00.000+08:00

I'm off to Redang Island again tonight. I'll be leaving by bus at 8.30pm later.

Actually, I'm going to Kuala Terrenganu to attend a wedding of one of my staff on Saturday, after which I'll be going straight to Redang via Merang Jetty. I'll probably stay till Monday but that all depends on how things go.

But this time, I'm bringing a girlfriend, which should make things a little bit more memorable.

So, I guess that also means that I wont be posting anything until after I get back.

Cheers, then.

Another Identity Crisis

2005-08-17T15:29:00.000+08:00

It's ironic actually, that I found another Sarawakian that is going through a similar identity crisis, right here in KL.

I happened to be surfing through a couple of blogs that I usually read (some of which happen to be those of my friends') and I chanced upon lilpixie, an old, old friend all the way back from high school.

Lilpixie is a very interesting character. At least to me. She's like a dragon with a heart of an angel. Or maybe it's the other way around, depending on your point of view. In other words, she's always been a very kind hearted person, but at the same time she's extremely feisty. Piss her off, and you know she'll rip your balls (or clit) off if she had the chance.

But actually, on a realistic note, Lilpixie is simply, a very, and I mean VERY outspoken individual. If she thinks you're a prick (or cunt), she'll probably say it to your face, no matter who you are.

To some, this might seem extreme. But to me it's a good thing, because it's good to have at least one friend that has the guts to tell people off, especially when I'm too chicken shit to do so myself.

Lilpixie was actually very pissed about something that is the very essence of my blog.

To put it short, she wanted to buy a home in KL but was denied the Bumiputra "special rate". The irony is, just like me, Lilpixie is as Bumi as you can get. Instead, the developers, being either too dumb or too asshole-lic, said that she didn't meet the criteria of a Bumi.

From what I know, the Ibans, Bidayuhs, Kayans, Orang Ulus, etc, are more "Bumi" than ALL the other races (including the Malays) in this land we call ours. Don't believe me? Ask any (non-bias) historian or archeologist.

Lilpixie, Fuck them. Fuck them upside-down.

Fucking Haze

2005-08-11T17:35:00.000+08:00

The haze from my office. Actually, on a normal day, the Petronas Towers are visible right behind the white building.

Full Moon Party, Anyone?

2005-08-10T17:06:00.000+08:00

I'm planning to go to Ko Pha Ngan, Thailand in November to attend that month's Full Moon Party. The party is on the 16th but I plan to leave for Thailand on the 12th and come back on the 20th. Everything should cost about RM700.00.

Anybody out there wants to tag along???

My Numerological Destiny

2005-08-09T10:12:00.000+08:00

Not too long ago, on Deepavali last year to be exact, I went through an experience I can safely say as paranormal. In fact, down right freaky, at least to me.

Before I go on, I'll assume that most of you know what numerology is. For those that don't, numerology is akin to astrology (star/zodiac signs), but using numbers as a basis.

So, back to my story, which happened last year on Deepavali last year, 11th September, 2004.

After a long day of visiting the few people I know in KL, we finally headed for our last destination of the day. We went in the house, shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with our hosts and other house guests.

After about half an hour later, one of our host's long-time friends came over to visit as well. He was an Indian and lawyer by profession, and introduced himself as K. He sat down beside us, and we all started chatting like old time friends. Incidentally, he just got married a couple of months before, and had converted to Islam. He also told us of his deep interest in spiritual things, as well as the religions. He proved this by quoting from all the 4 major religions (Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism) and showing his understanding of each one, without flaw. I have to admit, I was impressed.

Then he came into the subject of numerology. Now, I must say, I'm not very superstitious. I never ever was. I've always questioned things through a scientific point of view. (I do engineering, what do you expect?) And when it came to things like zodiac signs and anything else similar, I promptly would laugh it off.

"You were born on the 5th", K suddenly said to me, as if to erase the skepticism on my face.

Looking at my three other friends, he continued, " And you, on the 1st, you on the 4th, and you on the 8th. Am I right?"

We were speechless. Here was a guy the we have NEVER met, and he was telling us our birthdates.

"How the fuck do you know?" I asked.

"Numerology. Your birthdates are your primary number, and I can guess what they are just by looking at your faces. You are a 5, your friend here is a 1, this young lady is a four, and your tall friend is an 8."

Now, to be honest, at this point, I was still skeptical. I figured they were lucky guesses, all four one them. But I asked him to elaborate anyway.

"You see, I cant actually explain how, coz it takes a deep understanding of Numerology to see a person's number just by first sight. But I can tell you this; you in particular have a very strong 5 presence. What month and year were you born?"

I promptly told him my date of birth.

"Ah. There you go. Your secondary number is also 5. These are the few things I can tell you. You like making friends with everyone and you do have may friends regardless of age, nationality, and religion. By the age of 30, you will realize great success. But it wont be through outright business. It should be something else. Something that is somehow artistic. You have a very bright destiny to fulfill. But be wary, for there are a few things that can destroy you. Women and speed."

The last part was shocking. Yes, I do have a weakness in those two things. In fact, they've almost destroyed me in the past. How was this total stranger supposed to know this?

He continued with his 'readings' of my friends, and we all agreed he was quite accurate. It was, to say the least, mind boggling.

Since he was right about past and present stuff, I hope he's right about the future. Success at 30. Wow. I cant wait.

Priceless...

2005-08-03T10:45:00.000+08:00

Ever wonder why the saying "Dumb Blond" exists?

Back From Alcatraz

2005-08-02T16:13:00.000+08:00

Yes. I'm back. A good 18 days of being MIA.

So where'd I go, u ask? I was in Pulau Jerejak, Penang. I was there for some course cum seminar that really didn't, in my opinion, fulfill any of it's objectives to make us, the participants, into better human beings. A fucking waste of 18 earth days.

Well, what's done is done, so I wont dwell on it here. I'm really glad to be back in civilization, though. Throughout the whole course, we weren't allowed to leave the island. Think "Survivor" on a lesser scale. But with absolutely nothing to win. Like I said, fucking waste of my time.

Don't ask why I went anyways. I was ordered by management to go. Compulsory was the key word. Constipation is more like it.

Nevertheless, despite the fact that the 'resort' that I stayed at was really lame, I have to admit that the history of the island itself was rather intriguing.

Pulau Jerejak is an isle off the shores of Penang Island. You can actually see it from the Penang bridge. As I said, the topography of Jerejak isn't very impressive, but there is a sense of nostalgia surrounding it.

Evidently, Francis Light stopped over Jerejak before he set foot on Penang itself. It was also used as a quarantine area for Chinese immigrants before they were allowed on Penang. Later on, during British rule, it was used to house a leper colony and hospital.

More recently, Jerejak was infamously known as a prison area and a drug rehabilitation center. In fact, even today, you'll find a lot of old structures that is testimony to the island's intriguing history.

But then again, I'm no historian. So try looking it up on the net if you want to know more.

Cheers and beers, people.

It's good to be back.

I'm Leaving

2005-07-12T14:22:00.000+08:00

That's right folks. I'm leaving. For some seminar/course of some sort, actually. I'm leaving tomorrow for Penang and will be there till the 1st of August.

Fuck.

2 and half weeks away on something I dont feel is neccessary. I'm certainly not looking forward to it. It also means that I cant tell you for sure when I'll be back to update this blog. If they have wifi (for my pda) or some CC near to where I'm staying, then yes, you'll hear from me soon. Otherwise, I'll update when I come back.

Everybody I know back home has been talking about Rainforest Music Festival. They've been doing this for years. Strange, though. No offence to all, but I think it's overrated. I, for one dont really find it that fascinating. I mean, it's good for tourism and all, and it must be really interesting to foreigners (coz it's totally alien to them), but hell, I grew up with that stuff (at least most of it).

Traditional music like 'Sape', ngajat, tuak, getting drunk and dancing all night? Come on! That happens every Gawai.

I'm not saying that we all shouldnt go, just that I think the people that over-hype the thing are usually people that dont celebrate Gawai. I know, it's really cool, but I think it's a shame that Sarawakians promote this event more than they promote Gawai itself. After all, in retrospect, doesnt it seem to be just another pumped-up Gawai celebration? (With a RM60 covercharge!)

Well, that's just me thinking. No offence guys!

Cheers & beers.

Priceless...

2005-07-11T14:26:00.000+08:00

I love shaved pussy. Do you?

A Revelation: Irrelevant

2005-07-07T16:30:00.000+08:00

Something just dawned on me. I was surfing through the usual Malaysian blogs when I came to the realization that I have one major deficiency when compared to all other blogs.

I think my life and the things I blog about are irrelevant to 95% of the blogosphere.

I realized that there aren't that many Sarawakian bloggers. I realized that most active bloggers are Chinese. I realized that most Dayaks don't even know what a blog is.

I've been writing a blog that has very little to do with people that do know what a blog is. Funny that I'm thinking about all this now. It's just the sudden realization that, while I know that bloggers read each others' blogs, I'm pretty sure Kenny Sia and all the other Malaysian bloggers couldn't give a rats ass about what I say. I'm not saying they have to be interested in my blog, it's just that I suddenly feel weird about myself blogging.

I mean, I started blogging, first and foremost, for myself. I also wanted to be heard, at least a little bit. I wanted to share with the world my thoughts, and opinions, which I believed were from a fresh perspective.

It's my personal paradox. I have an identity crisis. I'm Malaysian, but at the same time, I feel as if I'm not. I acknowledge this with my blog name, but find the fact that people probably aren't interested in my stories, hard to swallow.

But I will still write on, with the hopes that there are people out there that are interested in the things that I have to say.

Cheers, & beers.

The Idiot Malaysian Driver

2005-07-06T14:22:00.000+08:00

Sometime ago, I made a promise to write something about the typical "Idiot Malaysian Driver". Which, in retrospect, is a strange subject matter, because I know everyone knows who or rather what they are like.

I mean, you see at least one per day, be it in Kuching, KL, or any other suburban area in Malaysia. They can encompass all walks of life, and all genders. Blue collar workers, teachers, doctors, PhD doctors, imans, preists, you name it, they're out there.

So what makes me a 'non-idiot', you ask? I dont drive very often. I commute to work everyday on my trusty scoot. I've been a motorcycle fanatic ever since highschool. (Ask me anything about bikes and MotoGP! I even owned a superbike before I moved to KL.) In other words, I dont really like cars. Yes, they are important in this time and age, but, just like how flying is for some people, you dont have to like it.

Idiot drivers are everywhere on our roads. But the ones that do small little driving errors dont really bug me at all. It's the ones that have the potential to kill me that get my blood boiling. It's the ones that make a big mistake and pretend that nothing happened that make me want to chase them down and whack them with my helmet till blood comes out of their ears. The only thing stopping me is the thought of me being on the front page of the local papers.

I'm not going into the details. I'm sure alot of you know how it is. As a motorcylist, the danger meter goes a notch higher. I've been rammed from the back at a roundabout, while waiting for my turn to go. I've been hit by cars that swerve out of their lane ala an F1 overtaking maneuvour.

To sum it all up, as a biker, most car drivers are considered fucking idiots and morons, simply because they dont bother to think of the safety of other human beings. They're sitting in a steel box; what the fuck do they care?

Mind you, not all motorcyclist are 'mat rempits' or coolies or the usual stereotypes. Biking is a choice many Malaysians (especially in KL) have chosen. No jam. No toll. Less fuel. Less headaches. I know many doctors, managing directors, engineers, etc, that ride to work. Doesnt mean that just because we dont drive a Honda or Merc to work, we have less money, you know.

In the end, I think all Malaysians should go through a motorcycling phase. Just so that their perception of being on a road or highway can be changed.

I know it made me a better and more considerate driver.

Heck, we'd have less jams too, hence less idiots on the road.

War Of The Intelligent

2005-07-01T17:14:00.000+08:00

I dont really do movie reviews. I guess I'd rather leave it to bona-fide movie critics. But I just saw Spielberg's "War Of The Worlds" last night, and after seeing all the confused comments about this movie I found in cinema online, I felt compelled to to give my own view.

First and foremost, Spielberg's War Of The Worlds is based on Orson Welles's radio broadcast, where the main factor about it was tension. Being a radio broadcast, it could not rely on anything visual for maximum impact. That was what Speilberg was trying to emulate in his version of the same story.

Secondly, I found that many viewers out there either could not fully understand the movie (especially the ending; probably caused by the viewers' lousy command of English), or called it boring because it was nothing like "Independence Day".

Before any of you decide to see this movie, I suggest that you do some research about the original book (or take the time to actually read it). The movie, although set in present times, is still faithful to the original book's main storyline. If u actually make an effort to understand the book, you'll probably appreciate the movie more.

The fact that it is nothing like Independence Day simply stems from the fact that is isn't Independence Day! It is called War Of The Worlds, people! As in based on the book written by H.G. Wells. Which brings us back to advice in the previous paragraph; read the book. In fact, Spielberg, when making this movie, made a vow to avoid the cliche's of other disaster movies: Distruction of famous landmarks, one-man-army-ala-rambo storyline.

Hence, if you're looking for a full-fledged action flick, or a one-man hero flick, dont watch this movie. If you, like myself, like stories that have a sense of believibility in it, then you just might like it. This is a story of an average joe going through hell on earth. And as far as I know, average joes are not perfect, just like the charachters in this movie.

Priceless...

2005-06-27T11:52:00.000+08:00

I found an incredibly funny clip by Chris Rock on the net recently. Aptly named "How NOT to get your ass kicked by the police!", check it out here.

Cheers.

Priceless...

2005-06-22T14:13:00.000+08:00

I love women. And I love tight little asses. This one was (and still is) my favorite.

The Haunting Beauty of Pulau Redang

2005-06-20T15:47:00.000+08:00

Sarawakians, just like other Malaysians, love to promote their home state. Amusingly, they often mention that Sarawak has beautiful beaches, namely Damai (Kuching), Tanjong Kidurong (Bintulu), and "Esplanade" (Miri). They tell potential tourists that those said beaches are something they should visit when in the state.

Well, I hate to ruin it for everyone (and my beloved Sarawak), but I must stress this. Please, please, dont come to Sarawak for the beaches. They suck. Yes, come for the food, the people, the cultures, Gawai, and cheap booze. But dont come for our beaches.

Now, before all the Sarawakian readers out there start sending me hate-mail, hear me out. I just came back from Terrengganu. While there, I took the time to spend one night at Pulau Redang. And, all I can say is fuck, those were real beaches, worthy of the title 'paradise' or 'secret'.

Take a good look at the pictures I took (below). Please keep in mind that I used my PDA camera (1.2M pixel resolution) to take them. No high res, high tech camera. But the beach still looks stunning.

2005-06-20T15:30:00.000+08:00

One of the jettys at Pulau Redang. Note the crystal blue sea water.

2005-06-20T15:29:00.000+08:00

Truly one of "Asia's best kept secrets".

2005-06-20T15:28:00.000+08:00

Palm trees and crystal blue waters.

2005-06-20T15:26:00.000+08:00

Note the coral.

Priceless...

2005-06-20T15:00:00.000+08:00

Only in Europe...

"I'm Being Used!"

2005-06-14T18:21:00.000+08:00

I think all guys can relate to me when I say that everyone has heard that line before. Especially from a women. You know, the classic, "He used me! He used my body!" followed by, "Son of a Bitch!" or something like that. Words as old as rain.

Ironic though. I've been used, too. In fact, I just recently found out I've been used by some chick. For sex. You dont see me complaining.

Just like other people, this women used my body. She used my dick to give her a pussy massage. And a mouth & throat massage. She conned me into repeatedly sucking on her cunt and tits, as well as ejaculating my ever precious bodily fluids into her bitch hole. I should be screaming at her for doing this to me. I should be freakin' mad.

But I decided to keep my cool. Coz at the end, when I give it some second thought, I paid for the dinners, and it felt good for me too. Really good.

So what's my point? Women are just so alien to guys. We've been saying it for eons. But women still say men are incomprehensible.

Sorry, ladies. Men are, bar mental retards, very simple, uncomplicated beings. It's the women that make most things illogical.

Dont get me wrong. I love women. But women make things very complicated, especially in a relationship. When a guy wants to buy, say a car, or a shoe, he'll chose based on the products' features; EFi, side-impact beams, heal-support feature, shock-absorbion sole, light-weight, etc. In other words, his choice is based on what he gets for his money. When a guy buys a Nike football jersey, he expects it to be featured with all kinds of Nike sports tech, like 'self-drying, cooling, light-weight" material.

What features do women look for when they buy a Guess handbag? Besides the logo and RM800 pricetag?

See what I mean?

Women just say and do things are totally alien to the male way of thinking.

"He/they were looking at my breast! Perverts!"

"He looks at me like I'm a porn actress! Asshole!"

"He treats me like a sex object! Bastard!"

Funny that they complain like this so much. Coz I'm pretty sure, most guys would pay big money, or do almost anything, to be looked at as a sex object.

MIA in Kuala Terrengganu

2005-06-13T14:42:00.000+08:00

Just wanted to let u guys know that I wont be at the office for the whole week coz I'm off traveling in Terrengganu (job related shit). No real posts for now. But I will return with good stories to tell.

I'm at a cyber cafe as I really need to be online to keep things at home in check.

Cheers people! I will post something really soon!

Of Booze, and Gawai

2005-06-09T17:07:00.000+08:00

It's been awhile, hasn't it? More than two weeks, actually. Posting on this blog, I mean.

I just came back from Kuching, and Gawai, and one short week of alcohol as the ONLY source of liquid nourishment. Lovely.

Get's me thinking, though. I recall some time ago that there was an issue raised in the local papers about Sarawakians (and Ibans/Dayaks in particular) drinking too much. Politicians were saying that drinking was the cause of our (the Dayaks) lackluster economic performance. In short, they were painting alcohol as the root of our poverty.

I beg to differ.

Think about this. Westerners consume alcohol on a much higher scale than us, but they're not the ones considered 'developing nation'. And do 'third world countries' have a problem of excessive alcohol consumption? I don't think so.

So why blame this 'menace'? I think it's because they need something or someone to blame. And the last thing they'd do is blame themselves, the politicians. So they blame it on beer. Much easier, since beer cant say anything back.

Ok. I know this all sounds weird. I'm not saying we should go boozing as if our lives depended on it. Drink responsibly, I say. But don't give me crap saying that my people are left behind because we drink too much. Bullshit.

The problem is our mentality. Period.

Give this some thought. Say, for example, a young Chinese adult tells his family he wants to open a business. His close family helps him out morally, if not financially. If a Dayak does this, he'll get the standard Dayak answer to this scenario, "Nuan gilakah?" or "Nuan cinakah?", or something along those lines.

My people are left behind because we think as if we are behind, not because of a chemical that has been consumed by humans for centuries.

The Seduction Of The Dark Side

2005-05-24T14:19:00.000+08:00

If it is something I always say to people, it's "never ever think you've seen everything or know everything, coz everyday, you are going to meet someone or see something that will change your perception of the world in someway".

At the same time, I also believe that everyone has a personal "Dark Side", a hidden part of their persona that, if tempted, and succumbed to, will dominate their lives, and probably lead to their distruction.

Sometimes in life, you experience something that just destroys your previous held view of something, and at the same time strengthens your understanding and belief in another.

That's what happened to me last weekend. This is the story.

Monday was Wesak day, which meant everyone was off. On Sunday evening, I found myself with nothing to do, and no one to call. Thankfully, I have rather "happening" house mates that can provide some kind of entertainment when the timing is right.

By 1 am, my apartment is filled with people I've never met, while techno music is blaring from Z (my DJ howzmate)'s speakers. Half of the visitors are drunk, while some are intoxicated with chemicals I cant even pronounce.

"Controlled chaos" is the only thing I can call it. I was just thankful the neighbours (or cops!) didnt come banging on our door.

After half an hour of just sitting there watching these unknown people enjoy themselves, G, one of Z's friends, comes up to me. I dont see her very often (probably because I dont mingle or hang out with Z and his friends much). In other words, I dont know her at all, apart from her name. I never actually said a word to her before. But she was obviously delighted that I was around this time.

"Hi! Havent seen you around in ages. You still live here, right?" she asks me.

"Hi. Uh, yes, I do live here. My room is over there," I reply, pointing to my room.

"Haha. I know. Just that I havent seen you around when I come here. Why is it you dont hang with us? We dont mind, you know."

"Nah. I'm just like that. I'm not really good at making new friends," I reply. By then, I had realized that this women was hitting on me, which came as a slight shock because women in KL almost never hit on guys. They always expect the men to do it first. Which, incidently, is not really my style. But this chick really digged me. And I really dig chicks that have the guts to flirt with me. It's the coolest compliment a guy could ever get.

After about half an hour of pointless talk, G pulls me closer and whispers into my ear, "You know, I've always wanted to bring you home, but I guess it's too far. How about we just go to your room?"

I thought to myself, "Holy shit. That was fast."

"Sure", I replied, trying to block out any expression of suprise.

We quietly slipped from the crowd and entered my room. I locked the door, while she promptly took her clothes off, after which, she helped take off mine. And we fucked like rabbits. Like there was no tomorow. She only left my room 18 hours later.

And you know what, she was the best lay I've had in a long time. Almost as good as hardcore porn. She was cute in her own way, and her naked body was to die for.

What surprised me was how intelligent she was. Between "sessions", we took the time to talk about ourselves. She admitted that she was a raver, and often took illegal drugs like Ecstacy, marijuana, and occasionally cocaine. Her life was pretty fucked up, she admitted. But at the same time, she was also incredibly intelligent. Plus, there was a scence of honesty that I got from her. More so than anyone else I've slept with before. You know when alot of women nowadays are just full of shit? Well, she wasnt one of them. She was an arts graduate, and had a comfortable job. She spoke perfect English, but gave head like her life depended on it. And despite being a fuck up in so many ways, she turned out to be more kind hearted than all the other "proper" women I've known.

This is the reason I'm righting this; I've stayed away from drug-taking people like G all my life, with the impression that these people were just too incredibly screwed and stupid to live. They were my personal "dark side" that I feared so much. Like a child staying away from the "those bad people living across the road", I avoided these type of people from the pre-assumption that I had of them. I thought they were going to behave like barbarians or savages. I thought they were going to try to suck me into their activities. But no, the only barbarians/savages I saw/see are in KL traffic jams and the evening news. The only thing getting sucked was my dick, and balls. (In fact she warned me to never get involved with drugs like Ecstacy). In the end, some of them turn out to be more sane, more intelligent and more compassionate than most "human beings".

I guess life IS full of surprises.

Priceless...

2005-05-20T11:33:00.000+08:00

Here's an interesting clip of an underaged kid trying to talk a couple of women into having sex with him. Amusing, I must say. Click here to see the clip.

Priceless...

2005-05-14T10:05:00.000+08:00

Every once in a while, I'll find something really amusing, or unbelievable on the net, and probably worth sharing with visitors of this site. They might be anything from pictures, videos, or even page links to things that I consider... Priceless. So be sure to come back occasionally to my blog to check out the latest stuff.

This time around, I have a link to a video of a guy that gets angry with his lawyer and shoots him repeatedly. The lawyer, however, has seen "The Matrix" too many times and kinda believes he can dodge bullets. Check it out here.

Cheers.

The Stuff Of Legend

2005-05-12T17:23:00.000+08:00

West Malaysians, as I've mentioned before, dont know shit about us Sarawakians. And, like I said, what ever they think they know about us is subsequently fucked up.

An interesting example of this phenomenon happened to me a few days ago.

At the time, I was hanging out at my usual hangout, accompanied by two girlfriends and a friend from Kuching, Albert, who was in town for a couple of days. Initially, everything was pretty normal. Normal to a point I could call it routine. With the exception of Albert's company, of course.

But as the night dragged on, I noticed two guys on the next table watching us. They weren't glaring, mind you, just more to looking curiously, pondering something.

Being a regular clubber, I did what I always do,

"Cheers, fellas", I raise my glass, after which, they return the gesture.

A few minutes later, one of the guys comes over our table, bringing with him two glasses of Tequila Sunrise.

Me and Albert accept, and proper introductions are exchanged. (I cant remember their names though).

It turns out that they were wondering where we were from, seeing that we didnt look local. The fact that we had KL girls with us, was also interesting to them.

"Sarawak", I tell them. " We're both from Kuching".

"Oh, Saaraawaak! So you must use Gambir then, eh? You Sarawakians are really naughty."

"Yeah, man. Fuck. No wonder guys can get chicks like that to hang around you. Heheh. Eh, bro, u got some with you now?" the other one interjects.

Me and Albert glance at each other. "Sorry guys. No."

"Oh. Ok. Cheers, man." before moving back to their table.

Now, there was no drama, other than the above, that happened that night. What struck me was the assumption that, just because we have a chick or two in tow, we Sarawakians, walk around with Gambir in our pockets. The irony of that school of thought is, as far as I can tell, we don't really use Gambir much, if at all.

On the other hand, I think I had not less than 50 West Malaysians asking me for it in the year and half I've been here. It's funny, because nobody really gives a rats ass about it back home. I reason we're just naturally better at sex than them, heheh.

A female companion asked me once, "You really never used Gambir before, is it?"

The answer was simple, (although I was actually only joking)

"No! We dont need to. It's in our blood."

She took me seriously.

The stuff of legend, my friends, the stuff of legend.

Priceless...

2005-05-12T16:55:00.000+08:00

Help?

2005-05-12T11:22:00.000+08:00

There's something wrong with my Hello (Picasa) and BloggerBot software. I just cant post any pics on this blog. It's a real shame because I have tons of funny pics to share with you guys. I try to publish it, but then, Bloggerbot will just display "Please wait, your pictures will be uploaded in a few minutes" or something like that, which, incidently means "never". Can anyone help?

I cant post any pictures!!!

2005-05-11T17:43:00.000+08:00

I dont seem to be able to post any pictures! Something's wrong with something!

An Iban and A Muslim

2005-05-10T18:33:00.000+08:00

I am a moderately active participant in internet forums, especially in forums that have some relation to my own life.

One site that I frequent is rumahpanjai.com. It's a site that is basically all things Iban/Dayaks/Sarawakian. It's a place where all the dayaks, no matter where they are, can bring up an issue and discuss it.

Normally, I read the topics that catch my interests, but seldom participate. But occasionally, I do put up a post or two when something really catches my attention.

Below is an excerpt of a recent post I put up on the site, in response to a topic about inter-racial and inter-faith marriages (and couples).

"This is how I see it (inter-race and inter-faith marriages); I dont see any harm in dating or even marrying a person of a different race. However, if a non-muslim wants to marry a muslim, he/she must first think of the consequences.

Have any of you met or know an Iban convert? I do. I know quite a few. And although I dont like to stereotype, I have to tell all of you that they have one thing in common; once they convert, they are no longer Iban/Dayak. Eventhough I see them as an Iban-Muslim, they see me as a non-muslim, a non-believer, aka khafir, not as a fellow Iban of a different faith. If this was not the consequence of becoming a muslim, I would say nothing, but sadly, this is how it is.

The socio-economic situation of the Ibans/Dayaks now is so far behind all the other major races in Sarawak/Malaysia. Realistically, only our own people will help us. But when an individual embraces that faith, their priority will change as well. No longer will they be able to fully assist their own family/people because of the non-halal food we eat, the 'air-syaitan' that we drink in times of celebration, the few animals that have sustained us throughout the ages (dogs & pigs).

I hope I dont insult anyone with all this. This is my view of things. Please consider them carefully. I'm not trying to instill hate. I'm asking that you look at all this realistically.

Every week, we see in the news of a poor Malay family or child in need of some kind of financial assistance. And we, as Malaysians, help to donate. Yes, this is commendable. But what about the suffering of our own people? The ones we see in some of our 'rumah panjai' that dont even have money to comfortably send their children to school. The numerous 'penyakit' that we see plague some of our poor fellow Ibans, but is left aside because no reporter feels it's worth putting on tv?

Every week, I am confronted by people from numerous associations and agencies that ask for donations for the muslims in need. But it is very, very rare that I see someone asking for donations for non-muslims, much less fellow Ibans. And in the few occasions some Dayak/Iban/non-Muslim does come to ask for a donation, I have never seen the Muslims give a single cent. Have you?

Dont get me wrong, we must help all other human beings in need, but one must accept the reality that once you convert, your priority will no longer be as an Iban, but as a Muslim.

That, I believe, is the main reason many of our people dont accept this kind of change lightly."

If you would like to see the actual post, click here.

The Past Week in Perspective

2005-05-10T09:38:00.000+08:00

I havent been on-line for a little over a week. My apologies. It's been a rather down week, i guess.

I was caught with a fever, so I guess I didnt have the time and energy to update this blog.

I also got grazed by a car a few days ago while cruising home from work. Not something that would put one's spirits high, I must say. The classic Malaysian Idiot Driver. I will bring this up in future, I promise.

Throughout the week, I was also constantly bugged by my immensely Bitchy Colleage. I will touch on this later too. Let's just say that I'm a tollerant individual, and to qualify being called a Bitch by me is an extremely hard thing to do.

Till then, cheers, people.

Cock-faces in KL

2005-04-29T12:05:00.000+08:00

As a Dayak working in Sarawak, you can rest assured that you'll probably have some extended family in every nook and cranny of our state. Uncles, aunties, cousins, "Akek", "Enek", you name it, someone you're somehow related to will be there, be it in another town or the most secluded backwater "pekan". If that weren't the case, you could still be comforted by the fact that most Dayaks would happily help you in times of need.

This is certainly not the case for a Dayak in West Malaysia.

Right before i made the rather duanting decision to come to KL, I was bombarded with all kinds of "advice". Most were what one could consider "sound advice", while at the same time, I did get my fair share of crap.

Nevertheless, the one thing that is ringing through my head today is this, "In KL, you cannot trust anyone". Initially, I took this advice lightly, thinking that my own profound ability to separate the liars and saints would pull me through.

I was wrong.

This morning, I had to go to the Old Klang Road TNB branch to pay the outstanding electricity bill of my apartment unit. Previously, I never bothered about the bills, simply because one of my ex-house mates was responsible for the utilities. But last night, our electricity was cut off, and the minimum payable amount was a good 622 fucking ringgit. The best part is, the ex-house mate has long dissappeared. And from my guess, for the past year plus this guy was supposed to be paying the bills for the place, he just paid the minimum amount and pocketed the rest.

Fuck him. Fuck him sideways.

Yeah, I know. Why did I let him pay the bills without checking in the first place, you ask?
Because I was naive enough to trust him.
Because he was Sarawakian.
Because he prayed five times a day. I shit you not.
And because of all the above, I thought he understood the meaning of the word honesty and integrity.

Fuck, was I wrong.

So I guess it's true what they say. You cant trust anyone here. The thing is, I kind of expected all this bull shit from a west Malaysian, not a fellow Sarawakian.

But then, in retrospect, a friend once said to me, "This is KL. Anything can happen".

God damn right.

Of Being A Dayak in "Malaya"

2005-04-26T10:57:00.000+08:00

To be really honest, I've only been in West Malaysia for a little more than a year now. Before that, I was working in the construction industry, and my job(s) then had me living a nomadic life. I was never in one place for more than a year. I had short stints all over Sarawak and occasionally in Semenanjung as well.

But actually living and working in KL is a completely different story. It is an experience dissimilar to many things that I've gone through. Even if one actually had tertiary education here, working is a totally different ballgame.

Especially because I'm a Dayak.

There are three prodominant races in west Malaysia embeded in the collective minds of west Malaysians. The Malays, the Chinese, and the Indians. Anything else might incure a little confusion. Of course there are mixtures of these races (Mamak, Chindian, Baba etc), but the 3 main races are kind of considered as the 3 main colors of the color spectrum that can make other colors by mixing them.

The problem is, I'm none of these things.

Maybe for Sarawakians back home, this is not too big of a deal. But trust me, when you are here, alone, as a Dayak, it is. Simply because you aren't made up of any of the 'primary colors'.

Look at it this way;

The Malays dont/cant drink (legally), and certainly do not eat pork, which also means they avoid anything that is missing the word halal. Basically, it's hard for them to do the things I would like to do.

The Chinese usually dont feel very comfortable with people that dont speak at least some kind of chinese dialect. In other words, they generally dont hang out with people that are not of Chinese decent.

The Indians, well, they are kind of wary of anyone that's not Indian. Added to this fact is that I dont look remotely close to anything Indian.

The point is, these three main races, are very unique in their own way, and they themselves are guilty of racial segegration that is evident in west Malaysia. It's not too obvious at a glance, but I can tell you, it's there.

Then, in the midst of it all, is a Dayak.

"I'm half Kayan, half Iban", is often my primary introduction.

Answers that I get vary.

"Oh, Iban, I know. But, Kayang, Kayam, what is it again? What is that ah?" is the occasional reply.

A common one, I must tell you is, "Oh, Iban! I've never been to Sabah, but I have a friend from there." Blame it on the likes of Adam and that stupid Akademi Fantasia show.

Dont ever use the word Dayak, the dont know shit what that means. In fact the dont know anything about us. Ironically, they usually know just "Iban", and "Sabah". Every other detail is subsequently fucked up. Some even think that Kuching is in Sabah. I shit you not. Some of them are not sure if I'm a bumi. Some of them think I have black magic powers. And all of the people that say these things, are educated.

And in the midst of all this confusion, this ignorance, is me, a Dayak.

A stranger in my own country.

A Malaysian with an identity crisis.

Young & Pissed (Drunk)

2005-04-25T13:16:00.000+08:00

To me, being drunk has a striking similarity to medical amnesia. Just like amnesia, being under the infleunce involves waking up in the morning not really knowing what happened the night before. You might have fragmented mental pictures, but nothing substantial. As the day drags on, parts of the puzzle start to piece together, and at days end, more often than not, you're left with a rather embarassing picture.

That's what happened last Saturday. I'm out with two female friends, as usual, in Bangsar. We drink. And drink. And drink. One of the girls has to leave at 11pm, so it's just me and B for the rest of the night. So we drink some more. The place slowly gets filled up. So does my head. By 12.30am, the club is in full gear. But I'm not. I'm stuck in 1st gear; aka, I'm wasted. Almost. In typical true blue Sarawakian fashion, I stand my ground.

Barely.

At this point, I'm pretty sure some of you actually think I'll say I woke up in some women's bed, maybe my female friend, B, but sorry friends, that's porn. And although we all wish something like that happened, unfortunately, this time, it didnt. But then again, the night wasnt a complete waste. Read on.

2am, the club closes, and everyone has to leave. My friend has dissapeared. Damn. So I stumble out of the club to go look for a cab home. On the way out, I bump into one of the PRs of the club, and it happened to be the one I fancy the most. Premium meat, I shit you not.

I've never really talked to her before, partly because she's kind of a snob, but tonight, with the powers of alchohol running in my veins, I call her over, and whispered a few words in her ear. The irony is, I initially could not remember what those words were, but I did remember her facial expression. All I'll say is this: she was definitely not smiling.

I walk off towards a cab, tell the driver my destination and asks for his price.

"Dua belas, bang", he says.

"That's too expensive. Ten", I slur back. The dude nods and gestures me to enter the car.

Feeling like a time traveller, I suddenly find myself outside my apartment security gate.

"Berapa tadi? Sepuluh, kan?" I ask for reconfirmation. The driver gives a grunt of aggreement, and after seing that I had no small change, handed him a 50 ringgit note, after which he gives back my 40 ringgit change. Or so it seemed.

I drag myself back home, take a bath and puke in the toilet bowl. Repeatedly.

Later, as I lie in my bed, I get a phone call from my friend that had to leave earlier that night, asking for some "help". Now, it was 3am, and I'm pissed beyond reason, but who the fuck am I to refuse "helping" some lonely women??

3.45am and I'm in a dark bedroom, and there's a naked women lying in front of me. Like what they say back home, "pa gik?!!"

6am and I'm back in my room. I wake up at about 11.30am coz my father just called and he's in KL, and wants to meet me.

Fuck.

By 1pm, I'm having lunch trying to piece the night's events together. Nothing.

Only at 7 in the evening, did all the pieces fall in place.

Incidently, the cab driver gave me 20 bucks for change, not the 40 that i assumed. Blame it on alchohol-induced double vision.

I realized that I actually decided to ride my scooter all the way to Subang Jaya to "help" my friend. In a druken stupor. Brilliant. The scary part is, I dont remember the journey. But somehow, I remember the screwing. Well, kind of.

But the best part is, I finally remembered what i said to the PR.

"You're really hot, but you are just so full of yourself".

Excellent. Now I'll never be able to screw her.

"War In The Name of Allah "

2005-04-23T10:47:00.000+08:00

Every once in a while, I log on to a particular website that periodically posts interesting videos/clips. Quite often, one would be able to find interesting clips, be it funny, gross, erotic, or everything else under the sun.

Occasionally, they might have a short clip sent from Iraq, showing the gruesome side of the war, the side the public never see on tv. I've seen most of them. And trust me, if you're anything like me, and you happen to have a morbid fasination with war, be prepared with a vomit bag. War is not pretty. It's down right ugly. Uglier than the homeless women one occasionally sees in Kuching taking her bath by the roadside moonsoon drain. Topless.

War is a fasinating human trait to me. It's what seperates us from the animals. War can only be waged by humans. Ironically, war is what turns us into animals. I'm sure some of you have some degree of understanding of war (especially the men). For the uninitiated, to put it in few words, modern warfare has rules. If you want to know in detail what these laws are, click here.

So where am I going with this? Well, today, I found a clip that got my blood boiling. It showed a video of a team of Iraqi seperatists securing a downed blackhawk. They eventually found one survivor. He was in shock, but otherwise, unharmed. The Iraqi's told him to get up.

Now, in modern warfare, an unarmed combatant is to be taken as a P.O.W., but instead, the Iraqi's, chanting "Allah is great" repeatedly, executes the soldier. I dont feel like going into the details; if u want to see the video for yourself, click here.

I've heard all there is to say about the war. And I have to say, I'm fucking sick of it. Most of my Muslim friends (not all, mind you), say that what they are doing is righteous. They justify the actions of their Muslim brothers by using sentences that have the words "Palestine", "Yahudi" (Jew), "Khafir", etc and ultimately saying that their actions are in the name of Allah.

How can one have such profound hate for a people they've never met and a land they've never seen? Yeah, I know the whole issue is a lot more complicated, but why complicate things? Why should I automatically hate someone I've never met before? Does this imply that I should automatically beat up a Japanese tourist for the WW2 atrocities commited upon my ancestors? Heck, why not run down the Brits in KL for colonising Malaysia. Flying kick a Jew for insinuating the crusafiction of Christ, while I'm at it. What do you think? Stupid, aint it?

"What? My people, my country, is left behind, suffering because of poverty? Who gives a shit! Let's just kill some foreigner! I'm sure we'll all be better off after that!"

I've asked them why they see nothing wrong with the recorded beheadings of war prisoners that are subsequently posted on the internet. They say it is condoned by their religion, saying that it is to instill fear in their enemies. What The Fuck Ever. As far as I can say, there is a God, but war is not what He is about.

I'm pretty sure, even in the Quran, there is nothing that says "Be as cruel as you can be, so as to instill fear in your enemies".

"And while you're at it, use My name, so that you wont feel so guilty about it."

I dont mean to be religous about all this. I believe that Islam (just like all the other major religions e.g. Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, etc) is based on Love for God (or Gods) and humanity. Not hatred.

It's just very disturbing to me, especially in our beloved country, Malaysia, if this hate-based religous mindset is left to grow among our countrymen.

It's another fucking Monday...

2005-04-18T18:58:00.000+08:00

I dont know about you guys, but for me, my moods have direct consequences on my sleeping pattern.

Being in a good mood means I want to stay awake as much as possible. If my mood is foul, I just want to sleep as much as i can (kinda like not wanting to ever wake up). No big deal, i know, it's just that I know people that are the exact opposite. Good mood, they sleep like a baby; bad mood, "sleep deprivation mode" is on.

Just a strange, meaningless observation I made recently, I guess.

So yeah, it's a fucking Monday again. I didnt have the best of weekends, for your info. I did have the company of an old friend from Kuching, but the weekend was pretty foul, to say the least.

Let me elaborate:

Me and 2 friends went out to Bangsar, Saturday night. I dragged them to my usual hangout/club. Only this time, the club wasnt it's usual self.

Two words: Sausage Fest.

I dont know about other people, but when i decide to go out for the weekend, and spend my hard-earned cash on some over-priced alchoholic bevarage at some club, I would like the vacinity to be at least 40% female. 40%, people. I dont think 40% is asking too much. But this time it was a sorry 10%, to my estimate. About 10 chicks in a club that had about 100 guys. That fucking sucks. It's a shame coz i like that club. The staff know me, and i know quite a few patrons. But that nite was a real shame.

It would have been a consolation if i got laid that nite, but no luck that time. But then again, I wasnt looking to get any pussy anyways. Maybe next week...

Sunday was pretty neutral. A girl-friend came over early morning. I had a good shag for brunch, followed by a real lunch. Then met up with my friend in KL sentral and we left for Ikea. Then my friend tears his right knee ligamen. So he's limping the rest of the day. I shit u not. Spend the rest of the day in Ikea till evening, when we had to send him back to KL Sentral, so that he can catch a train back to KLIA. I then proceded to my female friends howz to catch MotoGP. Gibernau drops his bike while leading the race. Another fucked senario of life presented live on TV. And that's it. Another weekend wasted. A really good porn-standard blowjob would have been good, but... not this time, i guess. Next week, hopefully.

Bad weekends can have negative effects on how u feel about Monday.

Trustme, I should know.

The Crisis With My Identity

2005-04-15T14:51:00.000+08:00

So what's with "Identity Crisis", u ask? Let me explain:

I'm half Kayan and half Iban by birth. And as far as I know, I'm 100% Sarawakian. Which also makes me 100% Malaysian. But ever since school, I've had a problem. I've never felt that I belonged to any particular peer group. Maybe to some, this is just a small issue, but this minute detail has been a major factor in shaping my personality as u can see today.

Throughout life, I've had my fair share of diverse friends. The problem was, in the end, I just couldnt fit in.

In the first place, I spoke, wrote, and thought in English. And in Malaysia, that's enough to scare away people that dont speak it.

Secondly, football, the world's most popular game, isn't my cuppa tea. Dont get me wrong, people have every right to like whatever they like, but I personally find football extremely boring. I love sports, just not football.

Third, I'm not actually a saint. I'm not pure evil, but i dont go to church anymore (for my own personal reasons that i will bring up in time). I believe in God, I just dont believe in being a hypocrite. Why commit sin and go to church/a mosque/temple/etc soon after, pretending that you are fit to be a saint? Let me put it this way; I'm not married, but I fuck women. I'm not the holiest of people, but I dont pretend to be one. I dont kill, rob, cheat, beat other human beings. I respect my elders. I respect other people. I dont select my peers based on their religion/skin/money etc. Unfortunately, in this country of mine, honesty is frowned upon.

I could easily elaborate, but to put it short, I was always different, at least by Malaysian/Sarawakian standards.

It's fucking Monday..

2005-04-11T11:48:00.000+08:00

A start of a new week. Nothing to shout about. Went to a frens howz in Kelana Jaya last nite to watch MotoGP with the gang. Rossi won. Dont think he won fair and square, though. I respect all the riders. I dont actually root for any of them in particular, but i just dont think a person should win by playing dirty...

I'm still learning how to use this thing. Once i get the hang of it, I'll start posting real posts.

The Beginning...

2005-04-08T11:50:00.000+08:00

I've been wanting to start this blog shit. But honestly, i've had trouble doing so. Guess i dont know where to start. Maybe a more detailed intro of who i am, what i'm like, why u should read the shit that i put on this blog, etc. Right after this...

2005-03-10T14:29:00.000+08:00

A Malaysian Identity Crisis