Bee-Gone!

Still without any access to the Internet, I would have loved to returned the comments on my Men and their Protuberances entry (funnily enough, target audience was for girls!) but even if I had any Internet connection, it still won’t put extra 2 hours in my Saturday as it turned out to be a pretty busy day.

For one thing, the night before, Ayah finally got his wits enough to call in a fireman-guy for advice on how to (finally!) get rid of them stinkin’ bees. For the new readers, let’s look into my trash-box photo one more time.

This was the size of a grapefruit, a month ago. Now it’s the size of a full seasoned watermelon.

Away from the actual event (I was engrossed in a book), nobody had thought to call me when the one-man-team exterminator came and Ridsect-spray the bugs; a big can in each hand. Little brother said that the guy had the finesse of a vandalism artist.

I came down for the proceeding event though. Dead bugs all over the driveway, crushing underfoot, going squish-squish-sqlomp. Even if I had the stomach to check the undersides of my shoes, on a RM$2-dare, I wouldn’t have been able to see the bee-mush due to the lack of real light.




We had to do the bee-gone process at night, to kill them in their sleep, so to speak.

Mak was ballistic; she had been constantly worried about her first and only grandchild being so curious, banging and tugging hard to open the locked trash box. Ayah was as pathetic as sympathic; he had been willing to wait another 6 months before calling a professional bee-farmer.

I’m just there to take pictures.

So we defiled the nest, poisoned the community and stole about a waxful of non aerosol contaminated honey. No sh**. Of course, one mid-50s, bee-supporting genius forgot to properly contained the looted honey and now it’s the back garden ants that had looted and plundered our, er, loot.

I, discoverer of the trash-box bees, for now, have complete and utter disdain for anything dark and creepy (though I do still listen to My Chemical Romance). I have retreated from the Garden Wars into the safety of my sterile bedroom, where there are no insects, baby nephews or any other kind of creeps within sight.


Oh-f***-f***ing-God...! – pardon, no actual disrespect to the Almighty - is that a monkey on my window?!

Harry Potter vs. Harry Dresden

VS.

Alas! I’ve finally finished reading the latest book from my favourite series, White Night of The Dresden Files. It took me several trips to Borders and about RM$50 worth of petrol money to read through all those chapters. Numerous trips, I was surprised the security guard didn’t kick me out for being ABONEY (Always Browsing Never Buying).

Once I get my hand of the Jim Butcher’s real paperback copy then I can start spending extra RM$50 petrol money on either his Codex Alera or maybe Robin Hobb’s latest. I’m getting tired of reading via Wikipedia (sob!).

For those of you without Sci-Fi channel or Torrent (what do you mean ‘what is Torrent?’), you wouldn’t have heard of its TV series either. The Dresden Files series highlights the life of one Harry Dresden, a certified wizard living the life as a Chicago private investigator. He helps innocent normal people fight against the forces of evil and the general public misconception that he does bunny tricks at kids’ birthday parties.

But then he gets involved in all sort of juicy magic mayhem; a vampires’ war, a Summer-Winter faeries conflict, a wizards’ council politics, a Christian knight’s crusade and otherworldly menace dripping ooze in his shoes. He also had to deal with the Chicago police, the undercover mafia, the globe-trotting mercenary, his semi-possessed ex-girlfriends (note plural), his gun-ho apprentice and a partridge in a pear tree.

All he wants is to pay his apartment rent on time, afford insurance for his Volkswagen Beetle, date a nice girl and NOT get shot/burned/thrashed/haunted/booed at every other week. To put it simply, think of it as an alternate Harry Potter, if Harry Potter was born in USA and there’s no clear Voldemort; everybody’s out to get him for two or three reasons.

I found the series long before Harry Potter Book 6, when I wasn’t looking for anything new to read. But MySis’s husband left his books behind after her little family moved to their not-so-new home and I was hooked from Dresden book one.

I liked the similarities between HP and HD, the latter story is much deeper, more adult, more mystery-involved and more wise-ass talking. If you’ve read HD, you can see how often I try to emulate Jim Butcher in my blog entries (hehehe!).

There are an unusual number of similarities between HP and HD stories. Unable to find a Pensive and needing somewhere out of my head to put this (and to spoil your HD reading pleasure so you better stop reading now), I’ve made a comparison list. So if you haven’t read HD, you better stop reading now.

Both are orphans.
Both are wizards.
Both have issues with the narrow-minded body of goverment.
Both have close ties with a family of seven children (and a Molly in each).
Both have a godparent going through prison.
Both have teacher-student issues.
Both have girlfriend issues.
Both are out to protect innocent people from the forces of darkness.
Both are outnumbered, outgunned and underminded.
Both have werewolf friends.
Both have former pretty visions of their never-met parent shattered.
Both have allies ready to fight to the death.
Both are acquainted with a large intelligent cat.
Both use Latin verses.
Both often get bad rap from the press.
Both are used to non-technological environment.
Both have a piece of unwanted evil magic within them that they can't get rid of (yet).
Both get bullied a lot in their earlier childhood.
Both have normal humans acquaintences who just don't like them. Really don't like them.
Both felt betrayed by their idol-teacher at some point even though it was for the best.
Both nearly got killed sometime in their past.
Both knows places to shop for wizard parts.
Both seem to have problems holding on to their wands.
Both are acquianted with a girl with multi-coloured hair.
Both are rescued by a big dog once.
Both knows a big cat who is generally on polite terms with a big dog.
Both have enemies that uses dead people.
Both are responsible for an enchanted sword at some point.
Both have the normal human communities kept in denial.
Both are already doing rescue work before the body of goverment approached them.
Both had a chance to deal with a huge thundering female lizard.
Both had hidden in an accomplice's old family house.
Both had problems with their hair at some point.
Both carry a significant scar-mark at some part of their body.
Both have half-human allies.
Both had problems at some point with an overly-righteous member of the body of goverment.
Both have a smaller-sized magical creature under their service at some point.
Both had said smaller-sized magical creature who liked to dress in odd things.
Both had discussed plot-based mysteries with a disembodied female while taking a bath.
Both had been commented to have their mother's eyes.

Harry Potter may have sailed into the bright sunset of ‘The End’s but Harry Dresden is still going strong at book 9. The author plans to write all the way to Book 20 and a finale trilogy. In full, the author is planning world domination starting by having an entire shelf dedicated only to him in every bookstore.

Hmmmm...

That’s alooooooooot of petrol money to go back and forth between house and bookstore. Maybe I’ll just find a job there instead.

Men and their Protuberances

Men have more extensions to their persons than a cluster on a banana tree, metaphorically speaking. And tend to become just as big. Or as tiny. Soft or firm. Really depends on the banana.

The ones with the biggest protuberances (men, not bananas) had the propensity to stick them where it’s not suppose to be, particularly at rush-hour train rides, crowded house parties, prior to project presentations or right behind you during school examinations.

So if a guy pokes you somewhere with... with himself, either accidentally or on purpose, it’s best to identify which part of him he’s using towards you and how to effectively react and dispense accordingly.

As curiosity is my begetting sin, what I’m always wondering is how many are there and where can I find them and what are they used for.

The Nose
The most obvious and most advertised. When a guy won’t stop talking about himself (my bad dates always have something like that), a girl’s gaze tend to waver to the centre of his face. This part comes in all shapes and sizes and hair colour.
A man uses it to...
Smell food. Hold up their spectacles. Apply sunblock lotion. Poke it into women’s business.
A girl uses it...
A girl can lead a guy by the nose if she wants something done. If that doesn’t work, it’s a good place to start hitting in order to knock some sense. Otherwise, I heard it’s a nice place for a kiss.

The Ears
Not always noticed, mainly because it’s hard to find a man who puts them to actual use. Often over-accessorized with pins and studs. Bad haircuts tend to exaggerate this anatomy.
A man uses it to...
Listen only to other guys, especially during a high tension football match or about the results of the match on the day after or the potential outcome of the next football match.
A girl uses it...
To educate him. But since the Y-chromosome enables men to switch off their ears, the movie ‘The Man-Whisperer’ shall never be idealized.

The Tongue
A protuberance with lots of potential, mostly because it’s hot, wet and flexible. Its usage in kissing activities defines the man’s level of expertise. Funny thing is, if he’s too good, he might be a serial boyfriend.
A man uses it to...
To taste food. To kiss. To lick things. To get stuck on icy lamp posts.
A girl uses it...
To let him taste weird foods first. To exercise his tongue muscles. To stop him from licking things. To re-evaluate the relationship.

The Thumbs
God has created man with two of them, in case he misplaces the other. They tend to jab sorely in all the wrong places, especially in crowded LRT trains (at least, I think they’re thumbs).
A man uses it to...
In the early years, sucking. Later in life comes hailing taxis, sending SMS, giving reviews or accidentally hitting it with a hammer. Mostly, it is to excel at Playstation and Xbox games.
A girl uses it...
To beat him at Playstation and Xbox games.

The Big Toes
Most often people don’t take notice but it had been a sticking point in much male demeanor. Particularly when they don’t trim those nails and they walk around in sandals. Eww...
A man uses it to...
Dance badly. To walk very quietly in the dark with shoes in hand. To accidentally trip over something. To stub at a hard object, and then teach little children some four-letter words.
A girl uses it...
By stomping on them very hard makes it a great pervert deterrent; use best in crowded LRT trains.

The Family Jewels
Just as women have humps and lumps, men got... bumps. Specifically, it’s the ones between their thighs. It’s a very sensitive area. Of all the other protuberances, men protects this the most. There are times when I ask myself this; when the flagpole goes up, can a guy still walk naturally in tight pants?
A man uses it to...
One part is done in the bathroom. Two parts is to make babies with. When all 3 parts is used together, it’s to play with (the sad ones play with themselves).
A girl uses it...
You can either make him work really hard in bed or you can use your knee-bone on ‘em. The latter gives immediate results, not necessarily the most favorable course of action (at least, for the man). There are other ways a girl can use them but I’m not running that kind of guide here.

Well, that’s as much as I know. Now, can anybody tell me what else can a guy (and a girl) use his protuberances for? Keep it clean by the way. In the meantime, I am little hungry. I could really go for a banana right about now. A nice long one.

Games Review: The Great Tree

Games Review: The Great Tree

If you ask me what the deal with the faeries overload on my blog, I would answer that I have completely no idea. It’s just that I like pretty pictures and fantasy themed games; Reflexive’s The Great Tree has one of each.

The faeries thing was a coincidence.
Really.
Stop rolling your eyes. And stop doing that one too.

The game I’ve been playing for a while now is an action-type, a change from the tycoon-type and seek-and-find-type game I’m mostly fond of. The reason why I’m not always into action-type games is that I’m getting used to the managerial thinking and detailed observation instead of active hand-eye-mouse coordination.

Oh God, I’m getting old. I suppose The Great Tree is a great restart for me, get back those wrist muscles.

The Great Tree

You play a faerie; wings, pixie dust and all. Your mom and the rest of the elders had given you and peers a job of finding some rare flowers and collecting its ‘special-pollen’, a kind of power powder for (wait for it) ... The Great Tree.

This is because the Tree is hitting puberty but the hive of glowing-bumblebees that had done the pollen-collecting job is having some dark-magic bubble trouble. While the Swee bees have defenses against the other bloodthirsty insects, faeries do not.

But evil is afoot and it’s growing as high a yard by the hour.


A circle of elders hold a discussion.

If you’ve enjoyed Feeding Frenzy, this piece of wow-stuff follow the same kind of game play. You use your mouse to move your character around the screen and you grab these falling flower-dandruff and fill up your ‘transient star’ to full tank in order to complete the level.


For every pack of Swee bees you’ve set free, you get an attribute star to customize your powers.

Gameplay is challenging without being tedious, which I like. The attribute changing system allows a variety of strategies you can apply; either an agile faerie, dodging the bugs (one of the bugs got Bambi eyes, what the ‘f’?) or get into offensive mode as there’s a power-up chance for every bug you kill.


Your basic weapon is a mini-nuke called Ancient Fire.


Other weapons include this cool Deep Freeze (pun intended) ...


... But don’t think the enemies won’t fight back! This one sucks (also pun intended).

Graphics is no question; I loved it. The animation is smooth-running and the background is never static. I had to be careful to remember that there’s a camouflaged frog nearby that causes instant death should I fly too near.

Music and sound was very apt, very pretty. The game music had a good beat without being overdone like some magical bru-ha-ha whose programmers think they don’t have enough chimes in their magic music (I won’t name games). The sound effects too didn’t over power the music, but I wish my death sound effect has more drama than just ‘Oww’.

Storyline me-likey-alots. The voice acting was professional, narration smooth. You can really feel the rising dilemma along with the characters’ desperation. Even though the plot and the ending were hopelessly predictable, I liked how the game writers had played around with themes.

Although it didn’t blow me away, I say this game is an above-average and I recommend it to anybody who doesn’t have a lot of free time.

PS: Downloads for this game can be found in Reflexive Arcade. If you want the cracked version, ask me nicely.

She is still out there...

I don’t often make serious topics. There are times when my messages to my blog don’t usually reflect how I feel at the time of writing. It’s ironic and an insult to my conscience, seeing to the true purpose of this blog was for.

Maybe it’s because I’m getting pretty busy now. Seeing that at the past few days had been hectic, I rarely have time to read my usual quota of favorite books, let alone the newspapers.

But then the school server slowed down and I suddenly found myself being... quiet.

Still.

Although everybody else in the workstation is buzzing about like busy bees (and I know bees), I suddenly found myself at a mental halt. Detached and... closed.

The best way I could describe it was like you’re walking at an empty, grassy park. A really big one and there’s nobody else around. Then suddenly you stopped for no reason. There’s nothing to see and nothing different yet you still stopped.

Why did I stop? I don’t know. Maybe with the school server being down, I managed to orient myself to the latest news everybody had been listening to.

The Sharlinie Abduction.

This isn’t a message about the abduction, or about the parties involved or the ‘why’s and ‘what-if’s. If you want to know about all those, you can get it in 1001 sites all over the Internet. I refuse to be an affiliate to the online worries and speculation.

But I do worry. When the little Nurin girl’s body had been found, barely four months ago, I did feel very, very worried. And sad.

Would it be selfish of me to think of my own family instead of grieving for a child who met an unfortunate end?

My cousin has a very small child, a little girl younger than Nurin or Sharlinie. She’s an a-long-awaited girl for my cousin’s family (KakShaz only have one other child, now a big protective brother). She’s very pretty and extraordinarily fair for a Malay.

I know I may sound biased seeing that I’m family, but little UmmSweet is not my daughter. She’s very, very cute. Her grandmother is part Chinese and UmmSweet’s father is of Sarawakian origin. UmmSweet’s got the best physical aspect of both world... and a temper to boot.

Everybody in the family agreed that UmmSweet was too cute, too cute even for television.

Which in the light of the little girls’ kidnappings, this had got me scared for her. Scared for the family. We often mentioned about the abductions to KakShaz and her husband. They agreed to be more vigilant, at home and at shopping malls, even though they live miles away from Kampung Baru.

I guess Sharlinie’s ongoing rescue operation is why I found myself detached and got into deep thinking, right here in the middle of a workstation. There are 3 criminal acts which I hate most in the world; terrorism, torture and rape. And little Nurin’s abduction has one of all those three.

The kidnapper terrorized the child to obey him, to follow him and his rules.

The kidnapper tortured the child, mind and body and then he tortured the child’s family by dumping her broken body.

The kidnapper raped the child.

He raped her.
As a female and once a small little girl myself, I don’t wish to go into detail.

The school’s server is running fast and smooth again. I feel myself on the move. There’s a class waiting for me at 11.30am. My lecturer too will be packing her notes, books and checking the projector.

Other students will be there and then they’ll go to their other classes. Then they’ll go home and maybe watch the news before they go to sleep. Today is Tuesday and they’ll wake up to Wednesday.

Somewhere out there is a lost little girl trapped by a monster.

Hi-ho TheProton! Away!

For this blog entry, I would like to introduce to you the stalwart companion of mine. She’s as old as my maturity, maybe even more. We met when I was in primary school and today I indebted to her for ferrying me back and forth between home and school.

Ain’t she a beauty?

Aww... my Proton Iswara Aeroback.

Okay, technically, it isn’t mine; it’s my mom’s. And all this lovey-gooey ooziness over a mechanical vehicle that’s worth its weight in petrol and maintenance bills may sound overdone.

But I drive this car. It’s mine. It takes me places.

This is one of the earliest (and least publicized) Iswara Aeroback produced by the company. In family, the extended family, it’s the only Proton Iswara so everybody identifies it as the Iswara. In my nuclear family, it’s dubbed ‘TheProton’.

“Where’s TheProton?”
“Ayah must have taken it out to go to the mamak corner again.”
“Okay then. I’ll call him to feed the car as well.”

“There’s a car outside the gate. Can somebody move it so I can park inside?”
“It’s TheProton car. Your sister must have forgotten to lock in the handbrake again.”
“Luckily it didn’t roll into the neighbour’s Volvo like the last time.”

“I can’t accelerate TheProton too fast or it’ll jerk.”
“She’s an old lady. Be careful.”
“I know all about being careful around old people. I got two of the still paying the mechanic’s bills.”

Oooh yeah.

TheProton had been in three road accidents, each belongs to every family member who had just got their driver’s license. She had been clamped in Kelana Jaya and fined in Uptown Damasara. Captured on police camera in various highways. Broke down in the back roads between Kuantan and Kuala Terrengganu. Radiator overheated just before the Rawang exit. Up and down the Genting Highlands roads until her brakes got too old to carry her weight, our fat luggage and our fat-asses.

She’s been to waaay more places than a Toyota Avanza TV commercial, more durable than a Mercedes M-Class attacked by a dinosaur and more versatile than a Japanese cellphone. And a favourite bird-poop target every time she parks in Taman Tun Dr. Ismail.

Her most exciting incident was when a convoy of military trucks was passing her from the left, somewhere on the road going out of KL, sometime in the 1990s. The front most truck driver (in his big dark green truck) was probably wearing his stylish movie-inspired sunglasses to complement his full soldier boy uniform.

Didn’t see TheProton.
Boom!
A couple of bangs and a shaking as high as 7.3 on the Richer scale.
A full 180 degree turn.
Four sets of tire tracks decorated the road with black ribbons.

A mother, her best friend and two kids in the back seat with no seat belts on. Scary, huh?

It’s a good thing old Yayi had taught his daughter how to be a good driver. Mak barely managed to stop the car from turning over (which, however dangerous, would have been really interesting). Me and my little brother, young and stupid as we were (we weren’t even wearing seatbelts!), thought it was the coolest non-roller coaster car ride surprise ever.

The trucking soldier boys did their civic duty (and to stop Mak from logging a police report) by escorting us to the nearest mechanic shop to asses and pay for the damage (all 3 military trucks by the way).

It was the first and only time I got into a damn real military truck, with real soldier boys and their pretty pin-badges on their mud-green uniforms. And I tell ya, the government needs to give these guys some proper suspension and better seat cushions in those moving metal boxes.

Happy for TheProton, she survived to crash into various other non-military, albeit more expansive, vehicles for the next so-and-so years.

So Ayah decided that the old girl deserves a paint job and some expensive repair work.




Whatcha looking at?

Galactic gray, all the easier to hide any unwanted bird-poop splatter.

Oh, and my own contribution.


This old lady’s still kicks ass...