Intestine in the Sky!

Lil’ bro Genius was around last week. Since my PC is faster than his laptop, it’s only natural that he takes over my room (unlike most guys, he doesn’t mind being surrounded by girly wall posters).

I tolerated him as long as he pays the fees (one Santana ft. Chad Kroeger’s Into The Night mp3 for 3 hours, yes? If you want to use my cellphone internet, that’ll be the entire Torrent movie of The Last Mimzy from your UMalaya WiFi).

Mostly it’s games that Genius plays. Unlike my role-playing-storyline-intense, he prefers arcades and dash-time stuff. He SMS’d me what he likes, I download and crack for him and he plays for up to 5 hours when he comes home during the weekends, while I’m at weekend class.

But here’s something we both like.

My PC desk. Usually the dark-haired skinny kid isn’t supposed to be here.

And right out from the cereal box too!

I think Genius purposely choose Milo cereal because he knows that if he takes the Honey-Waffles cereal (really great!), his sister would chomp it to milk-and-dust before he even re-packs his laundry bag.

When it comes to cereals, me and Genius make Cain and Abel look tame.
Mine! My preeeeeeciioussssss...

But enough about sibling eating habits. Nestle’s Milo had upgraded from being choke-able plastic toys (Made in China lagi...) to throw-able plastic disc (still Made in China!). This is a simplistic, Flash-type game called Microsoft Flight Simulator Demo.


Does it come with complementary soft drinks?

It’s like an eeny-meeny-mynie-tiny version of the actual game Microsoft is making to distribute to the terrorist market-, er, help future pilots experience realism. It’s a cheap toy really; targeted for the middle-class who wants to keep their kids out of their Astro Cable TV (low income kids can still play Frisbee).


Take off!

This game apparently comes with a warning label; may cause seizures. And it wasn’t long for us to realize why. Trying to steer this plane is like trying to manoeuvre a school of fish.

Steer too soft, you don’t turn at all. If you steer too hard, you start to make loops and spins to such a dizzying degree that you can actually feel your stomach making flip-flop (urg... sick... barf-bag-barf-bag-barf-bag-bag-bag-bag...).


Accck! Hard left! Hard left!

There are 4 versions of this game (I forgot what the first was, me bad); a cruise through the Grand Canyon, a helicopter emergency through New York and the one me and my lil’ brother had was something you make smoke to write letters in the sky with.

Like I said, steering this damn hell of a machine (virtual machine, what’s more!) is nothing like making donuts on the grass with your car. I was trying to make an ‘A’, which either ended up as ‘O’s or swiggly lines that showed nothing but chart my fail attempts as an ‘A’.

So if you’re thinking of going for that Milo cereal with the CD airplane in it, you don’t expect some easy how-to-fly manual (I swear this thing needs a real lessen terbang).

So just enjoy yourself and might as well bring out your artistic creations. Soft of...


Look! I made a tapeworm!


Look! I made a large intestine!


Look! This is tapeworm going through large intestine!

(eew...barf-bag-barf-bag-barf-bag-bag-bag-bag...)

Random Jumble from My Photo File

Gosh, how long have I been in school? I starting to forget, (actually, I rather forget) just really need to get the work done and stop think of how hard it was to do them. Kind of a 3rd world mentality but no matter how tall we can make our twin towers or how far out of space we can wave our flag, we still need to do a lot to improve the more basic aspects like roadways, medical facilities and stop-giving-free-water-to-Singapore.

Sorry, election jitters ran over me like a truck. It’ll be my first time voting and I have no idea how to start, where to start, to decide the right choice. Personally, I’m not too picky; just get someone to reduce petrol prices.

Bah, the country’s not the only one trying to pimp-their-infrastructure. My school’s riding on the wave of change as well.

This big room used to be the library.

Well at least on the wave of food aroma. Yup, now we have a Faculty of Hospitality and Tourism Management. As if the deans here need to be fed any more. I’m not sure what they cook in there but me guessing it has something to do with the littlest café that opened just next door (serving coffee and cakes, I’ll check it out later).


FHTM students have to wear UNIFORMS?

So now on one side of the building is the well-dressed, white-coated, clean-looking FHTM students while on the other side of the building (and I kid you not) are the sloppy, torn jeans, ripped bags, dark-eyed, messy-haired FIT students.

Gosh, this is going to be a fun 2008. *evil wink*


Dark, dark road.

I wasn’t kidding back in my entry Maybe a Flashlight to Get to My Car? that I go home late at night. Granted, it’s not as deep a darkness as some city alleyways but this route give a clear shot right towards the LDP road. I’m always careful here and as you can see, any of these dark parked cars can be the (as read in SMS!) ‘Girls! Pls watch out 4 a grey wira aeroback. Btwin 2-5 malay guys, age late 20s-early 30s. Kes samun & pukul around ampang, pj, dsara & bngsr. Aim & attack wmen driving alone @ nite. 2 cases reported oready. PLS TAKE CARE!’

Just because SMS aren’t always accurate doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be wary when walking at night.


This guy will have trouble if he wants to turn right!

Other than bullies, Malaysian roads have quite an interesting array of road monkeys. I’ve captured this one on the Kota Damansara road last year (forgot to put it in older post-lar...). Possibly going to a recycling centre, me thinks.


Hairy, peeping Tom!

Speaking of monkeys, heh. This was also in the last-year folder. Some primate left the jungle and never went back in it. His fellow ate all the curry leaves on my Mom’s curry tree and practically pooped on the neighbour’s windows. But as you can see the neighbourhood kids adored him.


Tiny thing, isn’t he?

See how he charms the kids? Our local politicians could learn a thing or two from him in the coming elections. Or maybe he was just around the neighbourhood because Mak was experimenting in the kitchen again... Maybe I could recommeded her an FHTM healthy-cooking course for a semester?


I don't know what this is (fried chicken, potatoes, spinach and carrots) and it taste only as ... good... as it looks.

Spoken in Anger

J. M. Coetzee, a renowned South African author, once said, “Truth is not spoken in anger. Truth is spoken, if it ever comes to be spoken, in love.”

I disagree.

Anger is a strong emotion linked with thoughts such as dissent, denial and self-control. It is a survivalist thinking to express anger and thus, I believe some of the most truthful words uttered are spoken from anger

Truthful, hurtful words.

No matter how spontaneous it seems, angry words have more truth, revelations about the speaker, than any other emotions which words are expressed with. A man who is disappointed with his subordinates reveals his lack of trust, when spoken in anger.

Spoken with regret, not of his words, but of having had to say those words.

Most people don’t understand the lingering effects of communication. What you say, what they say, impacts human perceptions to the outside environment. How we think, what we think and... innermost thoughts revealed by a moment of outburst.

At times, their expression would fall and excuse themselves, saying things like, “I didn’t mean it”. I wonder, if they didn’t mean it, why did they speak it? And if they spoke without meaning, what has this anger been worth for?

No rational words is ever said in carelessness.

A time not so long ago, my dad once told me that he regretted having children, if he had known that two of them would turn out the way they did. The first had wasted his foreign university money and only now steadily rebuilding his future and the third child... was me.

He never said or acted that he was sorry he had uttered them. And I have since washed my hand from any effort to seek his pride in me.

Some of those who spoken quickly without repent don’t apologize for their words. Merely regret accidentally revealing their true feelings.

Such as in the after-effects of obsessive anger, we can be doomed to recall painful words every time paths are crossed. Either familial disagreements, relationship break-up, employer-to-employee arguments, even political debate.

A Chinese proverb said this;
“Not the fastest horse can catch a word spoken in anger.”

Truthful, hurtful or both, whatever our thoughts reveal, spoken through words and coloured by anger, should never be said lightly.

Corrupt a Wish

Don’t you always wish for something you can’t have? Me and a billion people in the world. Whenever I’m at risk of day-dreaming myself away to near-unforgivable accidents (like slamming on car brakes or trying to impress a crush), a good does of reality check gets me back to focus.

Haha, of course, checking authenticity of reality doesn’t always count in getting back to authentic reality.Just to remind myself to stop day-dreaming and get back to work.

Recently, I’ve been day-dreaming a hell of a lot, need to think anti-dreaming thoughts. Here’s Brainy and Baddie to show you what I mean.

: I wish I could get a double cheeseburger.

: Granted, but your double cheeseburger is made out of worms, artificial cheese and, even worse... TOFU!



: I wish this homework project will write itself.

: Granted, but it also creates a virus that mutates into a dog. Now let’s see if you can explain that your Dog.EXE ate your Homework.DOC.



: I wish I could find my misplaced my Touch n’ Go card.

: Granted, but you can’t reach it because some fellow with a Malaya University jacket (you damn well know who you are *grrrr...*) is currently using it to take his girlfriend on an LRT cruise.



: I wish I could convert Lara Fabian’s No Big Deal video file into an MP4 file or an MP3 file.

: Granted, but all the circus ghost freaks in that video now haunts your Sony Ericsson phone, making ghostly wails every time your mother calls.



: I wish I could play a guitar like Santana.

: Granted, but now Santana sues you for identity theft.



: I wish someday my prince would come.

: Granted, but he also bring his mother, sister, uncles and aunties and cousins to the 3rd degree. And they all want to live in your cramped castle. Urg...



: I wish I could go to the Nuffnang Pajamas Party.

: Granted, but you’ll be struck with an incurable fear of the dark and could no longer go out after 7pm without going insane.



: I wish I have a way to actually get these wishes granted without them getting corrupted.

: Granted, but then you’ll be back to square one; day-dreaming away to near-incomplete jobs not-so-well done.

Helpful, aren’t they, these two?

How to be an Evil Overlord a.k.a Recycled TV Plots

Advice for the Evil Overlord:
1. Prior to kidnapping an older male scientist and forcing him to work for me, I will investigate his offspring and make sure that he has neither a beautiful but naive daughter who is willing to risk anything to get him back, nor an estranged son who works in the same field but had a falling-out with his father many years ago.

2. If I capture an enemy known for escaping via ingenious and fantastic little gadgets, I will order a full cavity search and confiscate all personal items before throwing him in my dungeon.

3. I will design all doomsday machines myself. If I must hire a mad scientist to assist me, I will make sure that he is sufficiently twisted that he'll never regret his evil ways and seek to undo the damage he's caused.

4. I will funnel some of my ill-gotten gains into urban renewal projects. Although slums add a quaint and picturesque quality to any city, they too often contain unexpected allies for heroes.

5. My dungeon will have its own qualified medical staff complete with bodyguards. That way if a prisoner becomes sick and his cellmate tells the guard it's an emergency, the guard will fetch a trauma team instead of opening up the cell for a look.

Advice for the Hero:
1. If I have a copy of the Evil Overlord's plans and my capture is imminent, I will not send the only copy of those plans away with a cute little sidekick. I will make many copies of the plans and send them away with many cute little sidekicks.

2. If any of my associates mysteriously disappears, and then returns behaving in an uncharacteristic manner, I will immediately presume that their loyalty has been compromised by the Evil Overlord.

3. I will not trust a being with an inordinate number of tentacles.

Advice for the Bad Auxiliary Character
(Evil Overlord's Wicked but Beautiful Daughter):
Daddy's Trusted Lieutenant works for Daddy. If he catches you cavorting with the Hero, he will gleefully take whatever you offer for his silence, and then turn you in anyway.

(Evil Genius) :
1. I will remember that any robot/device/mental power that can be remotely controlled from ten feet can, with sufficient preparation, effort, and/or energy, be remotely controlled from 100 miles or more.

2. I will not experiment on myself.

Advice for the Good Auxiliary Character
(Good Guy's Sidekick):
If I fall in love with the Hero's True Love, I will inform the Hero first, and then the True Love, so that they can help me get over it and find someone else.

(Innocent Bystander):
1. Before going off the beaten path for your vacation, check the police archives, and with the old people who live in the region, taking note of any mysterious deaths or disappearances.

2. Do not attempt to duplicate the means by which the Hero gained his/her powers. You will either fail and die a lingering, agonizing death, or succeed, lose control of your powers, wreck half of the city, and make it necessary for the Hero to kill you to neutralize the threat you pose to everyone else.

Further Evil
(Advice for the Evil Empress):
My personal servants will be professional bodyguards and assassins, but will dress and behave as eunuchs and maidservants. Even if I dismiss my regular guards for a "private audience" with the Hero, these personal servants (just so much furniture after all, right?) will remain in my chambers.

(Miscellaneous Evil Resolution):
I've murdered tens of thousands in cold blood. If I can't ice the sad-eyed puppy too, I don't deserve the job.

Murphy's Laws of Combat:
- A little ignorance can go a long way in the direction of maximum harm.
- If your flank march is going well, the enemy expects you to outflank him.
- Never share a foxhole with anyone braver than you are.
- If you make it too tough for the enemy to get in, you can't get out.
- B-52s are the ultimate close support weapon.
- The only thing more accurate than incoming enemy fire is incoming friendly fire.
- The best tank killer is another tank. Therefore tanks are always fighting each other, and have no time to help the infantry.
- Armored vehicles are bullet magnets.
- Avoid loud noises; there are few silent killers in a combat zone.
- The bursting radius of a grenade is always one foot greater than your jumping range.
- Try to look unimportant. The enemy may be low on ammo.
- As soon as you are served hot chow in the field, it rains.
- The law of the bayonet says the man with the bullet wins.

http://nielsenhayden.com/overlord/

Careless Drive-By Shooting

One of the reasons why I had wanted a cell phone with a camera is the ability to take pictures while driving. Granted it’s not the most legally safe form of driving but when you catch something you don’t often see, one can’t help but flip the plastic clamshell open and start clicking.

I’m not camera person (see Kyel’s blog and Satkuru.com for that), I'm just a JPEG addict.

Route between LDP and Subang exit highway. There's a lake fountain display on the other side of the road one cannot help but notice while being stuck in traffic jams.



I like driving in the rain, especially when I'm heading home. Its cooler, cleaner air and I can sing aloud to the CD player without other drivers catching me in the act.



Several days ago there was a fatal accident on the LDP Kelana Jaya. The police had closed the road but drivers driving out of area can catch the black tarp covering the dead motorcyclist. There were 6 police cars with flashing lights on the road.



Ai-yoooo, PakYong. The while Kancil car is the youngest-uncle-cum-neighbour, photo taken last month. He's the one whose big Nissan van we always borrow to transport the barbecue set for Adil-Adha. Apparently his wife knocked the Kancil into an accident and blew out the radiator. Mak helped tow the unstable car to the workshop (tow-truck charges too much).



Haha, the picture on a trip back to Pontian Kechil last Aidilfitri. This is one of my mother's cousin's house (Mom's a Javanese). The eldest living in this house, the eldest in the extended family, is - was - Wak Ram, my late grandfather's sister. She passed away peacefully not even 24 hours of this blog entry. This is the house my mother is heading to right now (I couldn't come since I got school).

Damn, I'm going to miss that nice old lady. She's been loosing her wits for some time but she's at the peak of health (still good vision and hearing, not bad).



Okay, soooo...
This isn't a drive by shot, not was Dusty the Cat was ever involved in a drive by shooting. But if he ever was in a drive by shot, he would probably pose this way (it was curtains washing day at the time).