Mind-Posting?

My New Year's wish for 2008 is that Blogger can incorporate a chip into my brain so that I can publish new posts off the top of my head because it's getting really annoying. I know what I want to say, I have the basic idea of what is going to be said but I just cannot be arsed to sit down and type it out.


Yes, I am aware that should such a thing miraculously appear, there is going to be a huge risk of me publishing stuff that I don't want to be published. That would mean having to stay 100% focused while "mind-typing". Something I can never do.


Kinda like:


" Malaysians can be so inefficient. Why can't the cashier just hurry the fuck up? I mean, if I see one more incompetent fool manning the counter, I'll...... ooo, nice buns!... Err, I mean, erm, check out those, erm, pastries at the bakery, yeah, err, heh, hehe, at's right"


What the heck, let's just assume there is such a thing as "mind-posting". Looks like fun, I think I'll give it a go to see if such an invention can be put to practical use. I will now type off the top of my head, and it will be completely unedited. Hopefully, nothing will go wrong.



What Goes On In CM's Head During A Regular Post, Unedited:


New Year's resolutions. Forget the celebrity spout bullshit about there being no such things as New Year's resolutions. There is such a thing, I believe. Or at least I think so. Bah, regardless, here are my resolutions for the year 2008. Woohooo! I love 2008. Wait, Gah!


I, erm, I will try to be more punctual in 2008, in the new year. I......... Right now, the only... I...Damn it..... I ..... Okay, I got it.... erm... Right........Gah!!! Okay, steady... Clear, crisp, sentences.. Crisp sentences?! Mmmmmm.. crisps....


Darn it... Argh!! Okay, one more try, one more try....


Okay, I hate non-punctual people. I really do. I can't stand it when people set a time to meet up and then arrive 20 minutes late, especially if it's work-related. But, to lambast them for it would be hypocritical because I tend to be late myself. So there, I want to try to be early or on time in the near future, in the, next year, so I can finally be self-righteous, is that the right word? hmmm, bah, I say bah a lot in my head, funny, I never liked the usage of the word.



Okay, what I mean is I want to... I would like to.. I will, yeah, will's the word, be more punctual, repetitive, that's bad, you don't, you should never use the same word twice in a paragraph, basic writing mistake. Digressing.... say, digressing is such a, i mean digressing is getting, becoming the new "cool word" to use these days. It's like, I see it in everyone's blog these days.


It used to be "narcissistic" and before that "go figure" was all the rage. Oh well, note to self: do not use the word digress anymore. Okay, what was I saying? Right, erm, I want, I am going to be more punctual, is there such a thing? I think punctual alone will do. Yeah, I will be punctual for every meeting this year so I can finally have the ammunition to blast those who are not.


I did it ! Conveyed what I wanted to say with minimal fuss. Okay, looking back, maybe not. Should I edit it? It does look a little stupid. Very incoherent and lots of straying away from the main topic. Hmmm, very gramatically incorrect as well. And erm, yeah, only 1 resolution? The usual I guess, gain weight, study harder. Oh wait, that would be a half-year resolution since I graduate in June. Or was it May? Should be June, I guess. Hungry...


Yeah, erm, what other resolutions? Can't really think of any. Oh, the celebrations last night was pretty dull. Ended up in Bangsar with the girlfriend at the, this place, Lawn or something. They had fireworks right on top of our head. The morons! We ended up eating fireworks scraps, you know the leftovers, the erm, shit that comes down once the things explode in the air. Yeah, the girl was pretty hot thoooooohhh noo, you did not just say that out loud! Okay, moving on, moving on, moving on...


Hmm, ICE's coming up a few days after noise. Maybe I should study ICE for a couple of days and then do OD.. darn it, okay, focus. New Year's Resolutions. Yeah, honestly cant think of any. United, Cassian, random thoughts, lallaa, omg, hahah, I sound like maniac. And I typo a lot, I mean, I type a lot of wrong stuff, I mean, I am a bad typist, poor Backspace key, poor, poor.


Fuck, it's tiring to type everything you're thinking of when you're so bloody long-winded. I wonder if God has a log of everything we think of. My, that would be a bloody long list. Kinda like that file cabinet in Bruce Almighty. Good Movie. Hah, a black God! Haha! I mean, you racist. Why can't God be black? Shit. Gah!


United game tonight. Sigh. Birmingham is easy game though. Hopefully West Ham can do us a favour. But doubt it, small teams cant summon enough fight to beat 2 big teams in a row. So, can't see it happening. Oh well. Okay, studies, gotta continue studies..


Okay, gotta end this, I wonder if the neighbour's wi-fi is still on. Gonna hate it if I wanna post and the connection's lost. Haha, stealing wireless connection. Stupid router of mine kong already though. Sigh, gotta get a new one. Sien..


Sighh, back to studies, I guess. Exam's coming. And mind-posting doesn't work. Makes my posts look like Ama........ phew!!! Just about held it in! Thank God for that! Am.. A.. Gahhh!!! Stop thinking of that name!! Gahhh!!!!!!!!!!! Must post now before damage is done....



Oh, and Happy New Year, guys..

Hypothetical Question of the Week

You are 40 years old and have worked very hard to reach where you are in life. For some reason unexplainable, you decided to liquidate all your assets and then proceed to withdraw your life savings, every single cent of it, from the bank.


Now you went to withdraw it with your mother, and just before she was able to step into the car, two robbers (or more, its pretty irrelevant) grab her, put a gun to her head and ask you to hand over everything.


Unbeknownst to them however, your mother has a fatal condition and would have died the following day anyway. Hey, I never said this was going to make any sense.


So the obvious question is would you choose to:


A) give them what they want so your mother can live another 15 odd hours


or


B) ignore them. Tough choice but you have half of your life more to go through and hey, it ain't cheap staying alive.




Answers in the comments section please.

Someone Shoot This Moron... and Britney Spears too. Thanks.

Mainstream hip hop annoys me these days. They all look the same, they rap about the same things and the beats sound the same.


None are more annoying though than this wannabe Soulja Boy, some dude who pronounces "watch" as "war". The fact that this lame song became a hit in the US charts makes me question the musical tastes of people these days.

Here's a clip of the song:





What are the strengths of hip hop? Well, anyone can rap to a good beat so it's definitely the lyrics. So there we go, the lyrics and the flow of the rap coupled with a cool beat is what makes a good hip hop song. Since this song made it to #1 on the billboard Hot 100, it's gotta have some of those right?


Well then, let us sample some of the gems and life lessons this song has to offer:


" Soulja boy off in this hoe
Watch me crank it
Watch me roll
Watch me crank that soulja boy
Then super man that hoe...

I'm jocking on your bitch ass
And if we get the fighting
Then I'm cocking on your bitch ass

"

What beautiful poetry! Edgar Allan Poe has nothing on him. I mean rhyming "jocking on your bitch ass" with "cocking on your bitch ass"?! Wow, see what he did there? How the hell did he think of that? I mean just, that's just, just mind numbing!


Which builds up nicely to the 2008 Grammy nominees. How in Vanilla Ice's name did this turd get nominated for "Best Rap Song"? With one foul stroke, the Grammys have lost all their credibility in my eyes.


As a comparison, here's Common's "The People", which was nominated for "Best Rap Solo Performance" but not for the "Best Rap Song" category. It's a really good song, the least you can do is click play:






Of course, even with some really strong lyrics,a smooth flow and a very tight beat, it wasn't good enough to topple the other heavyweights. Heavyweights such as:

Ayo Technology by 50 Cent

and

Big Things Poppin' by T.I.



To put things in perspective, this verse from Common's "The People":

"
This is street ra-dio, for unsung heroes
Ridin in they regal, tryin to stay legal
My daughter found Nemo, I found the new primo
Yeah you know how we do, we do it for the people
And the struggles of the brothas and the folks
With lovers under dope, experiment to discover hopes
Scuffle for notes, the rougher I wrote, times were harder
Went from rocky starter to a voice of a martyr

"

is deemed not good enough to beat the might of

"
She fine as hell, she about the dough
She doing her thing out on the floor
Her money money, she makin' makin'
Look at the way she shakin' shakin'

"

and

"
Do it [3x] what you waiting for
Do it [3x] what you waiting for
Do it [3x] what you waiting for
Now Lemme hear you say
Big shit popping, and little shit stopping [3x]
Ball on these niggas being broke is not an option

"


Well, there's justice for you.


It would have been forgivable if Hitz and Fly Fm didnt feed these lame songs to me everyday. I've to remind myself to get me an FM transmitter for the Nano.


To end this little outburst, here's an open letter to the talented and distinguished Soulja Boy which properly encapsulates my thoughts about him:



.
.
.
.

Dear Soulja Boy,


Die.



Love,
CM

The Mysteries of "Feel Good" factors

I am done being the nice, patient guy who's always willing to wait "5 more minutes" and give a friendly "it's okay" when someone apologizes for the 10th time.



The next time a person's actions, or lack of, annoys you and you go on to confront him/her, the likely scenario would unfold:


Knowing the mistake of his/her deeds, said offender would then proceed to explain the situation with a nervous smile thrown in. The smile is of course meant to provoke one out of you as well, in an attempt to lighten up the situation.



What do you do in this case?


(a) Smile back. Lighten up, man.


(b) Shoot the whole thing down with a cold stare, and when the tool with a Cheshire smile is done talking, cap it off with a very unimpressed "and?".




If you chose (a), well done. Now put on your tutu. Your ballet teacher is waiting, you pussy.


(b) would put you in a far more dominant position in a stand-off.


A smile is a show of weakness. Be it in a restaurant with customer service so poor, they put the government departments to shame or a project group member who just can't be arsed, never let him/her feel you're soft and can be messed around with.


If there's something I can't stand, it's a smile in the midst of incompetence.


Last week, I was sat at a restaurant and waited 45 minutes for a take-away dinner. Patrons who came in 10 minutes later than me were already tucking in to their meal. The waiter then came up to me, not for the first time, and said it would be ready in 5 minutes (which you know will be way longer than that), with that fucking smile on his face.


So did I smile back? Did I balls! If you want to make me feel better, get me something to read or at least pour me a fucking glass of tea. What in Miranda Priestly's name am I supposed to do with your pathetic, insincere apology?


I had to watch people who came in way later than me gleefully helping themselves to that plate of sweet and sour pork, while I starve away and you expect me to make you feel better with a "no problem, champ" and send you back to your conversation with that cashier you're obviously hitting on?


Please, don't insult me by smiling when you're apologizing. Don't give me the remotest hint that you're happy about it. I would be more than happy to wipe it off your face. Unless you're bigger than I am, in which case, I'll be the bigger man and let you off.


Trust me, try it the next time. It's liberating. Really, think about it. You are gonna have a period of awkward silence where you'd be as cool as the Ice Queen (there's gotta be a more male-friendly simile) and another plank just stood there, smiling at you. That trick there really does their head in!



There, I've said it, being an uptight bastard makes me feel good. Now, get me my sandwich, you ho! And I'd better not see any saliva in there again!

When a man tells you that he got rich through hard work, ask him: 'Whose?'

Every man who has ever run a business ultimately has a wish and that is for his legacy to be able to be passed down to an heir of his own flesh and blood, and I suspect my father is no different, though to label his venture now an empire would be a bit of an exaggeration.


What he does actually is run a mobile phone/electronics retail chain, and I've been trying to keep it a secret from new found friends just to stop being bothered about discounts. However, since there are only a pathetic (the numbers, not the people!) handful who actually reads what I have to say here, I'll just keep it going for the sake of having a good rant.


My dad has always wanted me to be involved in his setup. Most of my cousins are already part of his workforce, regional leaders etc. During my high-school/early college days, he would get me to help out at one of his outlets throughout my holiday breaks.


After a couple of years, however, I realized that what I was doing was pointless, simply because the staff wouldn't order me around because I was my father's son! I could turn up late for work, laze around and get away with it. It just did not feel right.


Which is why, to get a better idea of what working actually means, I started looking for other jobs and what I gained from it vindicated my decision. From the roadshows and events I worked at, I was able to study the man-management that the event co-ordinators demonstrated, or lack thereof, and their ability to make split-second decisions when something goes wrong.


When I worked at the Levi Strauss head office as a temp last year, I was very impressed with the lady boss, the way she handled the staff, kept them focused and just the way she got things done. Very well run place, in my opinion. The way she lambasted one of her colleagues from another department over the phone for his incompetence sticks in mind. No quarters given, none asked.


She understood that I was new there, and so when I made mistakes, and I did make some pretty big ones, she wouldn't roast me and hang me out to dry. And even though I was unfamiliar with how things worked, she never doubted my ability to accomplish tasks. She would entrust me, a temp, with responsibilities, and that really made me feel like I was part of the team. You could see her leadership shine through.


These are small but handy lessons I wouldn't have garnered working at a mobile phone outlet in Low Yat Plaza!


I am not saying working for my father didn't help me at all because that would be a lie. I did learn a lot during my time there but there was only so much I could gain as a salesman, for want of a better word, before I felt there was so much more out there.


Thus, I was always the black sheep of the extended family. My cousins would always ask me why I did not want to help my father out with his business. They would tell me there is so much to learn from him, how he is a great mentor, and I do not doubt that. I just feel now is not the right time.


I sensed that I am always seen by them as a lucky and spoilt kid who would rather work for someone else for a higher salary than help his old man out and they are entitled to their opinion. I do not begrudge them for it because it does seem that way from a certain point of view.


Recently, my father decided to be a 018 partner since it's a newly launched mobile network from Mitv, and apparently, there is money to be had. However, because his company is already a Maxis partner, he couldn't take up the offer with his present company and so, he decided to set up a new one.


He asked me for my IC number to register the company and got me some registration forms to sign. At first, I thought I was supposed to be a sleeping partner of sorts, but as time progressed, it became clear to me what he was trying to do. He was trying to ease me into helping him out, or at least that is what I thought.


He would sometimes hint to me that I should help run the company during my free time, reminding me that the company is registered under my name. It looked very likely that he wanted me to become more hands-on with the establishment after my graduation.


Of course, all this might not be true. I might have been a little bit too sensitive. He came back today however, with a stack of name cards with my name printed on them. My title? Business development manager.


If it's true that he does intend for me to run the company, with his guidance of course, when I finish my studies next year, then I am sorry, I am really not interested. With all due respect, I did not toil through 3 years of engineering studies to run some mobile phone outlets.


Granted his business is growing, over 30 outlets nationwide is pretty impressive, and I am not saying the place is not big enough for me, neither am I saying he's not good enough. He has a lot of experience and would make a very fine boss, and I am not saying that because he's my father. Even his friends, who are also bosses in their own right, would tell me that he is a very intelligent businessman and well, they had no reason to lie.


However, what I really want is to become my own man.


What irked me was that he never consulted me about any of these things, the setting up of the company, if I wanted to help him out and all that. It's almost like he expects me to just get on with it. Why am I still doing my course then? I could have dropped out 4 years ago, grab one of the outlets to manage and be on my way. Or I would have done a business course instead, which would be the more appropriate route.


Truth is, I may not make it on my own when I graduate. There are no guarantees in life. Engineering may not work out for me. I would, however, like to at least give it a shot. It would certainly be more exciting, finding out if I have what it takes to make it at a big company than having my road mapped out like that.


I know that he won't force me to do anything but the way this has panned out is leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Having a company registered under my name and being hinted that I should ditch all my ambitions to run it is a burden on my mind. He would certainly take this as a case of me not caring about the family, but it's something I can't really help.


What if, god forbid, his business doesn't work out? I would be in my mid 20's or early 30's and it would be difficult for me to get my career back on track. In time, regardless of how well the business is going, I would love to go back and work with my dad as a team. As the tone of this post suggests, however, now is definitely not the time.


I have seen a lot of friends and acquaintances start up their own business at their early 20's and a majority of them would fail or struggle badly, simply because they have neither the experience nor the bottle yet. They go up too fast, too soon. Way too immature and impatient.


Obviously, I would have my father's advice and he would be the real person running the show. I don't think he is daft enough to leave a company to the devices of his barely legal son. Still, let's be honest, nobody, and I mean nobody, not your partner, not your subordinate, is going to respect a 21 year old "manager".


At this point, I would have nothing to offer to the company. Just another smart ass who got there because daddy's the boss. I think it's pretty obvious I do not want to get up there this way. Also, again with all due respect, this isn't much of an "up there" now is it?



It would just be way too easy. I want a real challenge. I want to prove my mettle, test my limits, see what I can really reap with my own hands. I want to graduate, go out there, and conquer the damned ladder on my own. I have my own aspirations to fulfill, my goals to achieve, and if that means falling hard on my arse, then so be it. I truly believe I would come out of it a better man.



You call it naivety. I call it ambition.

Pimp My Childhood Cartoon Characters

What. The. Fuck.

Leave Me Alone!!!

You went out with this girl and you had a great time. The conversations were flowing and there were laughters all round. You find yourself really clicking with her, she's funny and not bad in the looks department too.


You start to have a crush on her, so you gathered the courage to ask her out and she reciprocated. You're the happiest person on the planet. There is a sudden surge of joy and delectation.


You did couples stuff together, no, not that kind, the innocent but fun bits like watching a movie and holding hands. She's everything you'd hoped for in a girlfriend. Nothing could possibly go wrong...




...until suddenly....



.
.
.
.
.
.
You wake up!!


!@#!@$!@$!111123124



That's when the big reality train hits you. You're still you, that relationship was non-existent but sweet Jesus, the crush and the happy memories are still there! Cue the frantic struggle to not slip into full consciousness just yet as you try to force yourself back to sleep. Often it works, but when it doesn't, my, you really do feel like you got dumped in real life.


It happened to me twice in a week and really, I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. That "fucking hell, it was all a dream?!" feeling is akin to winning a lottery ticket only to find out that it was all just a sick prank from your family. Search that one up on youtube by the way, funny shit right there.


The trouble is, both of the girls are people I know in real life, no, I am not saying who because quite frankly, if someone dreamt that they were together with me, I'd freak out big time.


So what's the problem? Well, because I had a crush on them in my dreams, it kind of transferred into real life! So yes, I had a mini crush on these two real life girls (and am still having one now, in fact!) because of their actions in my dreams. I was like, fucking get off me!


Okay for the sake of progressing this story, one of them is an ex-girlfriend and one is a pretty close friend. What that means is, for the first few days of last week, I kinda had feelings for my ex all over again and a few days later, had a crush on one of my platonic friends! Where's the straitjacket?!


I can't even look at these two girls the same way anymore because I keep thinking about the stupid dreams! Can you believe how ridiculous this sounds?


Is there such thing as a Dream God because if there is, may his arse be infested by a thousand desert fleas and may his arms grow too short to scratch them!


Right now, I am just trying to wait for the second crush to wear off kinda like how the first one did but God damn it, it was so good while it lasted. Can you imagine how weird this is? Ahh, how I miss the non-existent good old days. Damn, I really loved those imaginary happy times..



Oh dream girl, I hardly knew ye..




P/S: this doesn't count as cheating on my girlfriend as it's not as if I had any real say over this.

How to Ruin Your Jokes..

Jokes are great. Making people laugh always make you feel all warm inside. That is why we always have our pocket jokes handy, ready to spring them on our unsuspecting audience when the opportunity presents itself.


Cue the roar of laughter as you then proceed to perhaps unwisely, milk it for all it's worth, by repeating the joke again and again or elaborate on it. For example:



*First wave of laughter*

"What? It's true. (repeat joke, this time with hand movements)"

*Second wave of weaker laughters spliced with some leftovers from the first wave*

"Hahaha! It was so funny. the (insert punchline of the joke) and all"

*First wave of chuckles*

"Hahaha! (repeat hand movements this time with voiced special effects)"

*First wave of raised eyebrows"

"Yeah, like I was telling her, why didn't (proceed to dissect the joke)?"

*First wave of nodding heads and some smiles*


"And why didn't, (insert interruption by another bored party)"



I am no George Carlin when it comes to jokes and there's nothing I love more than a hearty ha-ha but people tend to ruin something that's funny by exhausting it sometimes. Take your bow and move on, please.


Also, laughter's the best medicine and all that shit, but if I were given a punch in the rib every time I hear someone spring these 99-cent jokes on me, I'd already be lying in a coffin:


"People have 6-packs, he has a 1-pack!"

"Going to Karaoke? Haha, later all the glasses break wan then you know hor"

"Wahh, so horrijiber the accident. Mercedes also become Kancil, you know!"

"Har? She drive ar? Got buy insurance or not?"


All these are normally followed by some self-indulgent laughter, and also a smug grin on said person's face for thinking he/she just pulled out a comic's equivalent of a rabbit from a hat. You will laugh along because it might be a little funny to you, but deep down you know that that joke has been recycled so many times, Al Gore has it in his trophy room.


You know what else is un-funny? Me not knowing how to finish this post under pressure because I have to get off this laptop to watch the United game which starts in 5 minutes and I can't be arsed to continue this later so I am ending this post in an abrupt manner and making this paragraph as long as possible so you would most likely skip this as people's idea of "speed-reading" these days is to ignore lengthy paragraphs that they feel is "difficult" to read thereby wasting all of the author's good work and effort put into it, and I also have to remind myself to stop using "text air-quotes" in my posts as air-quotes are really very lame.



So there.

I Bet "Shite Hair-styles" Came Out Of Pandora's Box As Well..

If I decide to climb a mountain one day in search of a wise sage, I'll remind myself to ask him:

"Does anyone ever feel good after a haircut?!"


And then, he'll scratch his head and stroke his beard, before replying:


"Yes, the salon owner"



I don't get it. I've been through this ordeal over and over again in my short 20 years of life. Each time, I'll step into the salon with a pretty clear idea of how I want my hair done and every time, without fail, I'll come out with something entirely different.


The problem lies, very clearly, with the hairstylist. Duh Sherlock, who else? Yeah, but hear me out.



I've come to notice that hairstylists deal with extremes. There just isn't an in-between. Take for instance, what happened today.




Lady Hairstylist : How would you like the sides? Shall we leave it long?

Me : Hmm, no. I want the ears to be seen but I don't want it too short.

Lady Hairstylist : Okay.




.... and she proceeds to cut it school-boy style!! You know, the one where they cut behind your ears and totally pulverize your sideburns, leaving you looking like an overgrown Form 5 student? Yeah, that one!


Why can't she just cut the damned thing "a little bit"? You know, short but not non-existent!


Another beef I have with these Chinese hairstylists is they just love those Dragonball-styled hair. You know the wild, tousled hair look, with ridiculously long sideburns and hair at the back? Yeah, that one.


I personally prefer the David Beckham-centric, westerners type. Clean at the sides and at the back, and a mohawk-ish spike at the top. The only place I could find that does it like this is, yes, in Nottingham, UK. At Simmy's right along Victoria Road.


I always make it a point to tell them that. But like I said, these guys deal with extremes, so what is the opposite of the Dragonball look? The nerdy schoolboy look, of course!


You know the worst part about the whole haircut process? The walk of shame back to your car. God loves taking the piss. I can never find a space near the salon. I am always forced to take a nice long walk back to the vehicle with a butt ugly look and having everyone stare and laugh uncontrollably inside.


To be honest though, and I know it's hard to believe after a rant like that, I am not too arsed about my hairstyle, really. I am not the type who spends half an hour in the bathroom trying to make sure that one strand of hair is standing at a correct angle. I just can't bear the thought of paying RM36 to look even worse than when i stepped in to the place!


It's quite a vicious cycle if you think about it. After a bad haircut, you pray for the thing to just grow quickly, and then it becomes too long and you have to get it trimmed again. Getting it right the next time is not an option either. It's an iterative process that never hits the spot.


Still, remember this the next time you get pissed off coming out of a salon:


A bad hair day is better than a no hair day.


Gimme Form 5 cuts over comb-overs any day!

Want, Want, Need, Need, Need, Crave, Crave, Got it, Sien... Repeat..

I've been looking at my spending habits of late, and I can't help wondering: Why do I always want something new? Obviously, most of the things that I crave aren't necessities. That word is so over-rated by the way, let's face it, the only things we really "need" is food and air. And an iPhone.


Expanding from this topic: The reason why we want something so desperately is in some way related to our spending power. I know it seems very obvious but think about it, do you want a Ferrari? Hell yeah, you do but it's not eating into your very soul and causing you sleepless nights, now is it?


So deduction #1: The closer the item of fancy is to your spending power, the more you want it.


Also, you can try to deny it but peer pressure is also another reason why you want something. Some kid in school has one, and he looks cool using it. All the other kids start having one, and so you want one. I am sorry it sounds loser-ish but it's the law of nature.


Deduction #2 : Cool kids decide what you should buy



Thirdly, killer products. These are items that are so darn awesome during your time, and coupled with deduction #2 means you'd sell your parents if it means you getting one. (CAUTION: might cause financial loss in the long run).


Deduction #3: Steve Jobs decides what you should buy



Utilizing all of the above deductions, I have a compiled a list of things that we used to want, should want and better be wanting in the future. It is by no means comprehensive, and will most likely not stand the test of time but refer to it so you know what it takes to stay within that "it" group:


EVOLUTION OF "WANTS" FOR MALE:

90's era primary school age group (7-12):

Baby-G/G-shock Digital Watch, any bag on wheels, Tamagotchi, Playstation, Pentium 2 PC,

a dial-up connection, Game Boy, Magic: The Gathering booster packs, Bata shoes, Dragonball

comics.


Lower secondary school age group (13-15):

Swatch analog watch, Bodypac, Digimon 5th Generation, Playstation 2, any computer that

fucking runs Starcraft and Counterstrike, Nokia 3310/8210, Hotlink prepaid, Game Boy Colour,

Magic: The Gathering box set, anything related to Pokemon, Converse shoes, a half-decent

haircut, any school trousers other than Professor, a football jersey, a girlfriend.


Upper secondary school age group (16-17):

Guess watch or anything in that price range, Eastpak/Deuter, still waiting on that Playstation 2,

Pentium 4 with Windows XP built-in, Streamyx, Magic: The Gathering box set(s), Nokia 6610,

Sony Ericsson T610, Maxis Postpaid, football jersey(s), driver's license, Proton, girlfriend(s).


College/ Undergraduate/Early Working Age Group (18-25)

Anything but Proton, Tissot/Tag Heuer, Ralph Lauren/AX shirts, Esprit slingbags, Playstation3,

a fucking laptop, Streamyx 1.0Mbps, a decent set of speakers, a nice LCD screen, Magic: The

Gathering? Really?, iPod, iPhone, football jerseys with the names and sleeve badges on, fuck

buddies.


Married Husband Age Group (25-death)

Not available. Refer to wife.




EVOLUTION OF "WANTS" FOR FEMALE:


90's era primary school age group (7-12):

clothes

Lower secondary school age group (13-15):

clothes, make-up, accessories, a boyfriend who is a loser in college but somehow becomes a cool dude in your naive little eyes


Upper secondary school age group (16-17):

clothes, make-up, accessories, a rich boyfriend


College/ Undergraduate/Early Working Age Group (18-25)

clothes, make-up, accesories, a rich boyfriend who doesn't find you annoying and dumps you after he's tired of the sex.



Married Husband Age Group (25-death)

Your husband's balls and his bank account





That is all.

Just a Thought

It's been a long day and you're looking forward to going home. Traffic's a nightmare however, and you're staring at a 30 minutes wait to cover a 3km stretch of road. While you're grumbling and waiting it out however, a car just whooshes past you on the right side of your lane, meant for cars headed in the opposite direction. The Honda conveniently slips into the queue right at the junction and about 5 minutes of waiting later, he's out of sight.


Meanwhile, because you decide not to abandon your principle and be just another jerk on the road, you're left behind to crawl to your destination, while the Honda is probably already on the highway, whistling his way home.


Your conscience may be clear but god damn it, the traffic's a bitch.


Now pause for a few seconds. Think about what you've just read.

.
.
.
.
.

Still think sucking up to your boss is pathetic?

Wish Light & Easy Plays Modern Hits..

"Hitz.fm Cares" Ads. About the most unfunny, annoying waste of sound waves to ever reach my ear. No, wait, I take that back. That accolade belongs to Avril's "hit" Girlfriend.


For the clueless, "Hitz.fm Cares" are a series of community message from the station urging us to brush our teeth, clean our toilet, recycle, wash our hands before we eat and keep our children safe from predators.


Nothing wrong there, until they try their darndest to be "funny". They have the most random and lame skits like a guy making very procovative sounds with a rubbing noise in the background to imply that he's masturbating. He ends it with a "ahhhhhh, finally, my toilet is clean". Really? Wow dude, that's comic gold right there! Pfft, lame.


The grammar leaves a lot to be desire as well:


"So remember to wash your hands before you eat, especially if you go to a petting zoo before you eat."


I am a campaigner of "anti fake accents" but there is no reason why the grammar should go out the window as well. It's okay in everyday speech, but I expected better from the media. And they wonder why the English standard in our country is deteriorating.


Oh and they tried to be sombre and moody after what happened to Nurin (Little girl who got abducted and killed). Totally understandable, the big question though, is who writes the script?


It's not exactly like this but it's close:


There was a time when our children can go out and play without fear. There was a time when the killing of an 8 year old is unheard of. Those days are loong gone. Remember to keep your kids under close supervision (....) (with a very sad tone)


I mean, come on, how lame can you get? I understand that you're doing a deed here by reminding the public but that's just a lazy piece of work.


"There was a time when the killing of an 8 year old is unheard of. "


Let's do one where we lament the loss of the good old days. Don't be naive. There was never "the good old days".


Pick up the newspaper. It's "heard of". Rapes and sexual assaults and murders of children have been happening around the world, even in Malaysia, since forever. There are sick people in this world. It's just that it's never been highlighted in the media on such a big scale before.


Also, things aren't as bad as they seem. Kids can still go to playgrounds etc. There isn't a criminal lurking in every single corner. You just have to apply some common sense, like not letting your 8 year old child out to a pasar malam on her own.


Maybe I was being a bit too harsh, but you get the point.


And the quality of the interviews that the radio stations do are embarassing at times. Take for example, this morning, they brought some rugby personality into the studio to talk about rugby and the state of it in Malaysia.


You would think they would have done their homework and took the opportunity to ask some serious or, at the very least, non-stupid questions. Not waste the other party's time and ask questions/make remarks like:


"How long is a game of rugby?"

"Rugby is 80 mins, Football is 90 mins, so rugby is more exciting la?"

"What noises do rugby players make?"


There is funny, and then there is stupid. By not taking your guest seriously when he/she clearly is, you're disrespecting him/her. Comic timing, guys, know when to make your wise-cracks. Then again, perhaps they are dumbing down the whole interview on purpose so as not to sound too serious. I am sure there are ways to do it, though, without making complete fools out of themselves in the process.


Still waiting for satellite radio....

A Very Original Topic

Look, I know moaning about Malaysians when it comes to etiquette on the road is about as imaginative as complaining about the service you get in government departments (read: it isn't) but it had to be done. After all, passive anger is about as healthy as a large helping of Hokkien Mee with extra pork rind. (read: it isn't too)


To kick things off, how difficult is it for you to signal when you are switching lanes?! I mean, you can reach out to grope your girl's thigh, pick a CD out of your pouch after stretching for it from your glove compartment, do your best impression of an orchestra conductor (with 2 hands!) but still find it too cumbersome to raise a finger and flick on your signal lights!



Which is why, these days, I refuse to allow a vehicle into my lane if said vehicle's signal indicator isn't blinking. There's nothing more annoying than having to hit the brakes after a car just decides to swerve into your lane as if she owns the road. See what I did there? I implied that females are bad drivers. Pretty clever, huh? My sense of humour astounds me sometimes.



Xenon lights. Another one of the devil's creations. I know, your ride will look pimped up and fly with those things on (is that how the cool kids describe it these days?), but show some courtesy and stop blinding, well, just about everyone else on the road!



Since I am on a roll, hey, why not have a go at tail-gating as well? I totally understand if the car in front of you is hogging up the fast lane, but what is the point of tail-gating when the fast lane is crowded? What are you going to do? Tail-gate every last one of them until you get a clear run at the road?



We're all busy people and would love for the fast lane to part for us like the Red Sea, but tail-gating is not only the wrong way to do it, it's dangerous as well. What is the right way, you ask? Why, win an election and start hiring outriders, of course. Because if you're a politician, your time is more important than everyone else's by default. Pricks.

In the Famous Words of Mr.King....

... why can't we all just get along?


There has been an uproar lately over this song that was written by a Malaysian Chinese by the pseudonym of Namewee entitled "Negarakuku". Here's the video, it's mostly in Mandarin..






After watching the video initially, I thought it was very well thought of and there were a lot of facts in there about the racial bias the government shows. For starters, I am sure we are all very aware of the fact that there is a bumiputra bias towards the intake of students at our local universities.


He also makes a great point about the Tourism Board being so quick to bring up our racial unity and our Chinese culture and heritage when promoting the country overseas. In truth, the government doesn't give two shits about the Chinese education system, for example, many Chinese schools have to survive on their own.


Things got out of hand however, when the media got wind of this video and started reporting it in the newspapers. One thing led to another and suddenly the government decided to stick its noses in.


A look at the Youtube video's comment section reveals a very ugly side of the Malaysian community. Racial slurs and hate speech were flung at each other. Malays telling the Chinese to go back to China and were in turn, branded "pigs".


The fact of the matter is, underneath all the media hype and well-scripted commercials promoting our racial unity, there is a lot of tension between the races in Malaysia. Racial unity? Half truths and whole lies. There are racists everywhere, I've seen and heard a lot of friends mock and slander the Malay race for being corrupt, lazy and inefficient.


I am not excluded. I will not take the moral high ground. I will say, however, that there is no smoke without fire. My sister contracted tuberculosis lately, a very contagious and serious disease. It's a long story but we were made to run around in circles by the government hospitals.


Supposed specialists treated my sister as if she were the plague itself, asking her to stand at a distance and warning her sternly to not cough at them when she hasn't even done a thing! Such was their "fear of dying". None of the two designated hospitals were willing to treat her. We ended up going to a private specialist centre. The doctors and staff in question were Malay.


Another example of the stereotypical Malay inefficiency or simply another example of inefficiency?


We encounter all of this incompetence everyday and because of the many things we heard from people about Malay laziness, we immediately associate them with every single scenario that we stumble upon. Typical Malays, we say.


The racial bias that the government adopt gets on my nerves, to be honest. For them to be preaching racial unity just smacks of irony. Having said that, I harbor no grudges. I have learned to just let it be. Just look in the mirror when you complain about the brain drain because I wouldn't think twice to jump at a better offer from another country if it comes my way.


This is a post about racism, not patriotism. Note the difference.


The realization that I have come upon is this is all irrelevant to me. I've grown out of racism and stereotyping. Just like how not all Chinese are swindlers and arrogant bastards, not all Malays are lazy and inept. So what if they have special privileges, wouldn't surviving without these advantages just reflect better on you?


I REFUSE to break into cliche and turn this post into me preaching about how we must all stick together through thick and thin. Just that we shouldn't stoop down to the lowly levels of racial discrimination and provoke hatred among the community. We should just all live together in peace and harmony. Treat others how you'd want to be treated. Love thy neighb.... damn it, can I start over?

The Walk

There was a thunder rumbling from the distance as the raindrops started to fall. Surely there wouldn't be a thunderstorm, I thought. I quickened the pace of my footsteps. There has never been heavy rain of any kind since I got here; only gentle drizzles. I got my hoodie out of my bag and wore it over my shirt anyway.



It was a weird day; today was the last day I'd be at my hall before I move out for good. To be honest, I never really thought I'd miss this place as badly as I did. It didn't really impact me that much until the final week when I realized my stay here in England was coming to an end.




Seeing my blockmates leave today and realizing I probably won't be seeing them again felt a bit depressing. Nikki with her witch-like laughter, Anna, my next door neighbour who I never really talk to much to be fair, John, who's probably my best mate at my block, Sam, Charlotte, Peter the fake Korean, Ha Man, Jae Min, Ryan the West Ham supporter, Baz, Natalie and the rest.




Good times, good times but such is life, we all have to move on. There really isn't much choice, or time for that matter, to dwell on it too much. Cliched as it sounds, it's just another chapter in life.





Walking past the Portland Building, I recalled my first week on campus when I was still new to the place and trying to soak in the surroundings. It was funny being a newbie around the place feeling so excited about his one year stay in England and having a long checklist of things to do and places to visit. The campus was really scenic and beautiful but time has a way of making everything seem ordinary after a while.





I suppose being out on my own felt great as well. No hassles from anyone and being free to do whatever I wanted to. Not that my parents had an iron grip over me back home but still, that feeling of freedom is amazing. Even for a year though, I started to realize that the sense of responsibility that automatically comes with that "freedom" makes you grow as a person. It could be an exaggeration but after all that exposure, you definitely come back from your overseas studies a more mature and wiser person.





I'll be going home in about a week's time and I get the feeling I'll look back at my time here a lot. Not just the place but the friends and the company I've had. All the laughters and fun we had is definitely something I'll be reminiscing regularly. All the stupid stuff we did at the bar crawls and parties and our trips.




I'll miss the bad dinners at the halls, the annoying cleaning lady that wakes me up every morning, the missing of lectures, the late night assignment deadline scramble, getting on the bus to go to the city and catching up on Lost, Heroes, Prison Break with my blockmates. All the little things. Strolling down memory lane is a lot of fun.




Dr. Vincent once gave a great advice to me and it was to never let your subconscious mind take control over your life and it rang so true. I've been routinely going to lectures, worrying about assignments and chilling out with my mates to actually stop and digest the experience.




Oh well, time will always move too fast for everyone's liking but I can't say I didn't cherish my time here. Even so, when the time comes to go our separate ways, I still can't help but feel dispirited and depressed.



I had quite a walk yet. I reached into my pocket and started to untangle my ear phones desperately as my Ipod screen started to get blurred out by the drizzle. It took quite a few more tugs at the wires before I finally manage to stick them in my ears. My thumb reached for the play button and the shuffle of songs brought out a familliar tune.




John Mayer's acoustic ballad, "Daughters".





Just like I suspected, and I really didn't want to be proved right on this occasion, the rain started to turn into a heavy downpour. I pulled the hood over my head but that obviously didn't save me from being fully drenched. Not a single thunderstorm in my 9 months here and God decided to take the piss today.





"Just perfect," I smiled.

"Being a Clutch Student" for Dummies

After racing against time to finish up on my revision for my 2nd year finals, I now consider myself a bit of an expert in the art of last-minute revision. Do not let anyone fool you into thinking it's not the right thing to do.




Naturally, there are perks in doing things at the eleventh-hour, namely, information not having the time to escape you. We all know what it feels like to revise 2 months before the exams and not remembering a thing a week before the papers. You'll be pleased to find out that last-minute revision eliminates that possibility; allowing you to read away without fear.




That's not all, last minute revision also gives you that warm self-satisfaction of knowing that you "could have done a lot better had you not procrastinated", hence, feeling a lot smarter than you really are. Consider it a little mental cushion to fall back on if you bomb your exams badly.




I've picked up a lot of pointers during my past week of speed-scanning module chapters and undergoing the delicate process of trying to master Solid Mechanics III in 2 days. Regarding the latter, I am happy to announce that I think I did myself justice in there. It's a totally different story for Fluid Mech however, but hey you know what, I could have done a lot better had I not procrastinated!




You just have to love the idea of reading up your study materials the night before your exams. That adrenaline rush of knowing you're in deep shit hours before a paper cannot be had anywhere else. This definitely has to be at the top of the list for any thrill-seekers out there.




Any nerdy newbies who are interested in indulging in some procrastination of their own will do well to follow some of the guidelines I am about to recommend. During this 2 week ordeal, I've compiled my very own TOP 5 tips for last-minute revision and midnight-oil burning and they are as follows:





Please, for the love of God:





i) D


ii) O


iii) N


iv) '


v) T





Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go sit in a corner and lick my examination wounds.

Reality Check..

I was just randomly browsing through a couple of my friends' blogs when I stumbled onto Germaine's and saw a picture of her and her friend posing with a gigantic 21st birthday cake.



Then it kinda hit me.




Gosh, I am 20 this year?!?!





It wasn't that long ago when I was called "the 16 year old"!!






4 years just like that. Wow... I mean, just... Wow..

Collection of Ramblings...

I tried, I really did. I wanted so much to do consecutive posts without bringing up United but unfortunately, since we won the title last week, I have to gloat a bit.


























So to all the 19 teams who are busy enjoying the fumes from our exhaust. Up yours, losers!!












~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*




Peas are a bitch. I struggle with them every time they serve those green balls of hell during dinner. I don't hate the taste, they taste like corn to me. But it's so hard to eat them with "grace". Especially with a fork!!




Those things just keep rolling off my fork every time I try to lift them to my mouth and it has to be that precise moment when my mouth is wide open and they're almost there; leaving me hanging with that awkward look on my face while everyone wonders why this guy eats like a 4 year old.





Fuck Peas.







~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*








"Even stopped clocks get it right once or twice in a while."



Stumbled onto this proverb the other day. That has to be one of the more thought-provoking proverbs out there. I like proverbs that force you to think for a while. And by a while, I mean 5 seconds because let's face it, if you need any longer than that, you're retarded.



Of course, the saying basically means even the most derailed fool can say something true every so often. In fact, stopped clocks actually show the right time 2 times a day. Think about it. Good one, huh? It's definitely better than the lazier "duh" type of sayings like:



"All good things must come to an end"


"Action speaks louder than words"


"No man is an island"


"A woman's place is in the home"




So anyway, I had a sudden urge to scour the web for new proverbs but I somehow ended up with these. Here are some funny ones that I found over the internet. Not exactly proverbs per se, but I just wanted to share it:




Simon says stand! Simon says sit! Format drive C:! Ha! Gotcha!



Due to budget cuts the light at the end of the tunnel has been turned off.



A rock ----> me <---- A hard place A conscience does not prevent sin. It only prevents you from enjoying it. DOS never says "EXCELLENT command or filename"... Eat right, exercise daily, live clean, die anyway. Keyboard not connected, press F13 to continue If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you. Junk: stuff we throw away. Stuff: junk we keep. A cynic smells the flowers and looks for the coffin. Diplomacy is saying: "Nice doggie!"... till you can find a rock. What on earth is a "free gift"? Aren't all gifts free? There are some proverbs I picked up in primary school that I never quite understood over the years. Yes I do realize that after what I said in the first paragraph, I am calling myself a retard. And yes, they make kids memorize shit-loads of proverbs in Sri KL. English lessons used to be a pain in the arse back then. They'd literally give you pages and pages of synonyms, antonyms, homonyms, idioms, similes, past tense, past participle tense, present perfect tense, future tense and expect you to know them by heart. Like come on, how old were we, what, nine?! Psychopath English teachers. Yes you, Mr.Singh, you're a psychopath. Here are some of the proverb that I never quite understood until recently. "A stitch in time saves nine" "Penny wise, pound foolish" "A bird in hand is worth two in the bush" It took me 5 years till I was in Form 2 for me to understand the first one. When I first saw that saying, I was dumbfounded. Stitch time? What, sewing a clock? How will that save anything? Who the hell are the "nine"? Of course, what it means is stitching a hole now will save you 9 stitches in the future but believe me, it wasn't so obvious back then. The second one, I'll hold my hands up and admit, I only found out its figurative meaning just now when I googled it. If ever there is a sentence stripped down to its bare bones, "penny wise, pound foolish" has to be it. How is anyone supposed to understand what you're trying to say when you speak like a Neanderthal?! I mean really, tell me "Penny wise, Pound foolish" doesn't sound like: "Me Org, Org hungry" "Hulk hate, Hulk smash" "Eat chicken, Chicken good" "Fuck you, You bitch" And then there are some that really do your head in. I know the third one means you should accept what you have and not risk it by chasing something better but really, reading this proverb provoked the kind of "What?!" you'll only get from watching the Matrix trilogy. I mean, come on, If a bird in my hand is worth two in the bush, what's stopping me from throwing it into the bush? It just doesn't make sense. I suspect this is some kind of sick joke conjured a long time ago by a philosopher who really detested hand-jobs.

Russell Peters made me do it!

All of us know who Russell Peters is (right?) and most of us would already have seen his stand up comedy act. I've always found that guy's Chinese impression funny but never truly understood why he made it sound like that simply because I've never actually heard a Chinese speak like that!


That is, until I realized I've never actually heard a Chinese speak.


For the uninitiated, here's the video..






I know, I know, it's a classic. I can never watch this without suffocating from too much laughing. That accent just kills it! No way, who the hell speaks like that?!





So you can almost imagine my situation when I went for a lab one fine day and had a Chinese lab instructor who sounded exactly the same! No, I don't mean his accent bears a passing resemblance to Peters' impression. No, his was a true to the note, totally indistinguishable, audio xerox of Peters' side-splitting parody.




To borrow from Russell Peters: The first time I saw that act, I thought,"Woah! Whoever wrote this is brilliant!" I went to lab today, that's a real language!




What can a poor guy do when he is immediately reminded of all the Russell Peters comedic gems and that Chinese restaurant owner from South Park? He laughs! He was explaining the procedures of the lab and there I was bursting into a maniacal laughter every time he opened his mouth to speak!




You know the feeling when you're trying to hold your laughter in but it kinda "expands" in your chest until you can no longer hold it in? You know the one where your face turns purple and a snort would follow more snorts until you finally break into a fit of sniggers?




Yep, guilty as charged.




What? At least I tried being indirect about it by hiding my grinning smirk behind my lab sheet. That's being very, very merciful, just so you know. Last I checked, proper etiquette for a situation like this is to point a finger straight into the victim's face before letting out a very loud "Ha, Ha!" a la Nelson Muntz from the Simpsons. And an atomic wedgie.




Anyway, I was browsing around Youtube when I stumbled upon this Chinese Restaurant prank. Totally irrelevant but definitely worth checking out. I'm not going to say how the prank works. See it for yourself.








Here's another one about this guy calling a Chinese clock-maker. What's so funny about that? Well, let's just say she has a very unique way of pronouncing "clock". You really have to see this!










Anyway, it became a little too obvious in the end. Being a science man and all, I think his sharp analytical skills would have told him that I was cracking up at his accents. In any case, he should have figured it all out judging from the immaculate timing of my laughters.



Or the fact that I was subtly doing my own City Wok waiter impression to my lab-mates a while later. What? Subtly, guys, subtly...

The Old Trafford Experience

It's been said and heard of from different sources, but after last night, I can say it for certain. There is no match in any other competition that can match a Champions League night at Old Trafford, home of Manchester United.




I was lucky as heck to be able to get my hands on a ticket for the Milan match which means I'd be watching the match alone. That's right, all by myself. Do I mind travelling on my own to Manchester to watch a football match? Do I balls!! It's the fucking Champions League semi-final, the last European game to be played at Old Trafford this season and I'd be damned if I were to miss it!!






















Even though I only found out last Friday that my ticket application was successful, I didn't mind at all. Train tickets booked and good to go. I was very hyped as I made my way to the stadium along with a huge stream of supporters, singing songs as they made their way into the stadium. It's all part of the matchday experience.




These are things you don't get with Manchester United pre-season tours in Asia, where the glory hunters all come out in full force. Malaysian Manchester United supporters should come with the Malaysian Red Devils supporters club to the match in KL on July 28. It'd be much more fun to go to the match with the club. No kidding. Moving on....




I walked straight into the terraces as there really wasn't much to do outside. I've already taken all the photos I need from my past visits to the stadium. I really don't want to spend my money in the Megastore. As a matter of fact, I only had 12 quid on me, of which 5 I spent on a match day scarf, 3 on a programme, and 4 to put aside for the bus ride to Kuan Ching's place.




Milan, 6 time European Champions, went into the match knowing what United did to Roma a fortnight ago when the Reds absolutely tore the Italians apart 7-1. Fact is, there is no team in Europe right now that are playing the kind of football United is playing at the moment: free-flowing, attacking football. Not even the self-proclaimed "kings of silky football" from London, Le Arse.





I duly took my seat at the East Stand. The view was perfect, much better than the South Stand and the North-West quadrant where I was sat the past few times. The stadium was just beginning to fill and right from the outside, you get the sense that everyone was up for it. We know when a huge match is beckoning and everyone outside the stadium making their way in that night was in full voice.



A banner at the East Stand upper terrace with Kaka's face on it caught my eye. The Italians were already there, albeit a little quiet. There was also an entire section of away supporters on the left terrace from where I was at. It did not worry me one bit as I was in Old Trafford, Manchester not the San Siro in Milan so the helmet and body armour was left at home.






















The team sheets were read out to the crowd, confirming what we already know. Our entire defensive line-up were ravaged by injuries. It never is a joy to have to face AC Milan, much less without your entire first choice defence. No Rio, Vidic nor Gary Neville. Patrice Evra was back though, which meant Fletcher did not have to slot in at right back.



By then, the stadium was packed and faint chants of "United, United!" were heard from the West Stand. Like an avalanche that grew in size as it swept across the stadium, it quickly became a loud roar. That was when I first felt the spine chills that European nights offer. Old Trafford became a huge cauldron of noise with songs deafeningly echoing around the stadium. Those that weren't singing were clapping along. Fantastic atmosphere, it was.



One can only wonder what the Italians higher up in the stands were thinking. This is nothing like the quiet half empty stadiums in Italy. This is not the Stadio Delle Alpi in Turin nor the Olympic Stadium in Rome. Benvenuto a Old Trafford, i miei amici.


"We are the Pride of the North" came from the East Stand next, and it really helped that all the supporters around me were vocal. Now I get to sing and chant along without looking like an absolute nutter!


The PA speakers around the stadium started booming. The 2 teams walked out to the pitch and formed a line in front of the centre circle. A familliar tune started playing. It was the Champions League anthem blaring across the stadium. I took a video of it, and it was the last one I'd take that night. I decided to enjoy the match without the trouble of having to hold a camera phone.







The announcer started to announce the players' name on each teams. Each Milan players' name was greeted with jeers and whistles and naturally, every one of the Reds' name (even Richardson) were punctuated with cheers.



By the time the whistle was blown to signify the start of the game, an ear-splitting rendition of "U-N-I-T-E-D" was already doing it rounds around the stadium. United started brightly, and right away Ronaldo was already making runs down the right flank. As suspected, Fergie sent out a 4-5-1 to match Milan's system, with Rooney as the lone striker and Fletcher, Carrick and Scholes the trio in the heart of the midfield.



We had the upper hand for much of the opening minutes, or at least through my red-tinted glasses, we were!! Barely 5 minutes into the game, the East Stand got up on its feet in anticipation of a Giggs corner.


Giggs' ball in was met with a mad scramble and the next thing we knew, the ball was in the back of the net. Who scored, at that point, was unclear but to heck with it. United are 1-0 up! A couple of minutes later, the name Cristiano Ronaldo was announced through the speakers.










It was the perfect start we were hoping for and you can't help thinking about the final already even though there is quite a while to go yet. If the crowd wasn't in high enough spirits before then, they certainly are now! The away supporters were very unlike their English counterparts, barely a murmur came out from the stands. It was a far cry from the exchange of taunts that happens regularly against English away supporters every weekend in the Premier League.



We started extremely brightly and Ronaldo saw a few chances pass him by. Even O'Shea got the crowd going with a couple of step-overs. Milan however, started to do their usual stuff, play keep ball and passing it around midfield.



It is a known fact that English and Italian sides play very contradicting styles of football. The Italians play a patient brand of football and are very good at keeping the ball and tiring the opposition down before striking when an opportunity shows itself while the English sides' first instinct when they have the ball is to attack and press the opponents for it when they don't.



It was pretty evident though that we have an ace against Milan and that is pace, loads of it. Milan just weren't comfortable with our counter-attacks and each on of them were roared on by a capacity 76,000 crowd in the stadium. As the teams look pretty settled, we decided to indulge ourselves with a little jibe at the blue rent-boys from London, the current English Champions, Chelsea:



"Mourinho, are you listening?
You better keep our trophy glistening,
Cz we'll be back in May,
to take it away,
Walking in a Fergie Wonderland"





Which made the Kaka goal at about 20 minutes all the more hard to swallow for Milan did little right until then. A slow build-up by Milan at the left flank was beautifully finished by Kaka, who made a great run from midfield to outpaced everyone else and coolly slotted past Van der Sar.


Everyone was stunned. The away supporters who were subdued before then, came into life and started singing and chanting. Most of them looked in our general direction and started fist-pumping at us. A couple of the Brits on our side told them where to go.



This is where the myth about United fans being quiet when the chips are down goes down the drain. Right away, we responded, roars of "Red Shirts, Come on You Reds" drowning out the Italian chants.



Milan started to dominate our midfield by then but we still managed to create a couple of half chances. Evra got past their defence and really got the crowd on its feet only to be flagged for offside while Ronaldo continued to make his runs but the lack of an end product coupled with his selfishness really got on the crowd's nerves at times.



Nothing was going our way as well. The referee was a right tosser and kept giving bad decisions against us. And at the 40th minute, Kaka struck again. A disaster at the back of the defence left Kaka wide open in front of goal and as much as we prayed God could strike him down, he scored to give Milan the lead. Again, the away supporters magically sprouted into life, sang a couple of tunes and sunk back into non-existence.



2-1 it was and it was going to be a huge mountain to climb. The teams went in at half-time with everyone in the stadium wondering if this was to be our night or were we to fall short again. Noone seemed to be interested at the half-time proceedings. Formula One driver and supposed United fan Mark Webber was introduced but noone gave a toss about him. Hehe, what a loser.



The teams came out again for the second half and there were no changes to either side. Fergie reverted to a 4-4-1-1 though, to give the team a more attacking outlook. To the crowd's delight, right away, the lads showed they weren't going down without a fight and it unsettled Milan. We were first to all the 50-50's and the crowd sensed a comeback and really upped the temperature for the Italian pin-up boys.



Wave after wave of United attacks were thwarted but not before Milan sprang a couple of counter-attacks of their own. When Kaka volleyed over the bar after a series of passes pinged past us, the jeers were more of relief than taunts. 3-1 would really have killed the tie.



The sight of 10 red shirts running at full pace against your ageing legs roared on by 76,000 people couldn't have been a pretty sight but that was what happened. Everyone was cheering on the team. I was slighly overwhelmed, to be honest. I've never heard anything like it. The noise was incredible.



The players seemed to take on the energy from the crowd and upped the tempo against Milan. We could see it then. Milan were bottling it. And what do they do? They started to resort to dirty tricks like time-wasting and diving. Dida took ages for a goal-kick and players started to go down "injured" to pause the game and slow the pace of the match down.



Fletch went in for a clean tackle on Gattuso but the cheating bastard fell like a sack of potatoes. Sorry mate, bad move. The referee awarded a free-kick against us and this time, the crowd really went mad from the sense of injustice. Jeers and whistles resonated around the ground, and "Same old Italians, Always Cheating" chants thundered down onto the field. Not pretty to be on the receiving end, I can tell you that.



Ronaldo was not brilliant but was still keeping at it on the left, tormenting Oddo who must be wondering if the match would ever end. At one point, there were 4 Milan players surrounding United's no.7, and a sweet pass to Rooney came to nothing as Gattuso swept Rooney down to the ground. No booking. Unbelievable. Justice was served when Gattuso came off injured moments later. No hero's applause for him though. He left the field to whistles and boos.



Without Gattuso keeping the ship steady in midfield, Milan's threads began to unravel. They were losing the midfield battle. Every lost 50-50 was greeted with roars. "Come on, you Reds" was a regular theme throughout the match and all our pressure paid off when Rooney scored on the hour mark. Needless to mention, the crowd went ballistic.









2-2. Game on. The away supporters did not show the slightest hint of reaction which is understandable for they knew what was unfolding before their eyes. Milan had cracked. Buckled under the pressure. Noone in the ground believed that Milan would score another one. Kaka, who had been brilliant in the first half, was completely anonymous. From then on, it was all United.



They didn't even have the intention of scoring another one. They knew 2 away goals were enough and it was damage limitation time. And it was. 2-2 was hardly the perfect result for us. We needed at least one more and we knew Milan was very vulnerable at that stage and was there for the taking.



The sight of Solskjaer warming up on the sidelines caught the crowd's attention. "Ole, ole, ole, ole" rang out from the East Stand. What we wouldn't give to have our super-sub save our arses again. Wasnt' to happen, though. None of the starting XI were substituted as it turned out.


It was clear that Gattuso's departure was the turning point as Milan just couldn't live with the pressure United were applying to them. Carrick and Scholes were stringing passes left and right and Fletcher was immense in midfield. Giggs' freekicks came very close and Fletcher had a wonderful shot saved by Dida. He was the only one keeping them in the game.




As the minutes ticked by, the stadium got more tense. Everyone was wondering if that was it. A 2-2 draw.




The 4th official held up the board signalling 2 minutes of added time. Too little time added on after all the Italians' time-wasting antics. I am sure Fergie would have something to say about that.




That sense of injustice was quickly put aside however when Giggs and Rooney broke away from the Milan midfield and started to break.



Everyone in the stadium rose to their feet in anticipation. The Milan defenders back-pedalled desperately at the sight of Giggs running at them at full flight. They knew once they let either Giggs or Rooney past them, they were never going to catch them. Not at age 34 anyway. Giggs then cut infield towards the middle and Rooney cut outwards in the opposite direction.



"Come on, Giggsy, pass it!"



But he didn't. Not immediately anyway. He waited and waited and waited. And then, he slotted the perfect pass to Wayne Rooney and I could have sworn time stopped there and then.


Rooney began to shape himself to shoot....


"yeaa....."


... and the ball rocketed past Dida into the back of the net...


".....AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"



Milan had totally bottled it and Old Trafford erupted. All the tension and nerves that had been building up to that goal was just let loose. Everyone just went crazy, screaming, hugging each other and jumping. I'll never forget that moment as long as I live. The volume was ear-splitting. This bloke beside me put his arms around me and we just jumped and jumped with sheer jubilation. Football, eh? Fucking hell, indeed!!







As the Milan players dragged themselves to restart the game, a crashing chorus of "Glory, Glory Man United" boomed from the stands. They tried to attack but ended up passing the ball around in midfield till the final whistle. They knew the first leg was over. The referee blew to end the game and again, cries of joy were heard around the stadium.



The players left the pitch to a well-deserved standing ovation and the fans continued to savour the moment. The announcer's voice came on the speakers again announcing the score:


Manchester United 3 AC Milan 2




As the large crowd bottle-necked at the exit, loud renditions of "Oh United, We Love You" were sung by all the reds. I looked to the left where the away supporters were and they began applauding us. They knew how special the night had been, the intensity of the crowd and the sight of United grabbing a late winner yet again. We returned the courtesy.




Of course, the semi-final tie is far from over. There is still a second leg at Milan and the 2 away goals could prove decisive but at that night, nobody gave 2 hoots. From the high spirits of the crowd, you'd be forgiven for thinking we'd won the cup!!




That's Old Trafford for you and I was really privileged to have been able to witness United at our best on a huge European night. Here's to hoping we can go all the way and win the lot. In the meantime, I'll just keep replaying the night over and over again, when I was at Old Trafford. Home of Manchester United, the pride of Europe. The Theatre of Dreams...





















....until you try to make your way out post-match, that is.....

Capische?

Just saw this video and I knew I had to share it with everyone else.. Malaysian rap at its finest, introducing our very own 50 sen.. Rapping about Muar, insulting KL dudes, explaining why Wira is so common and slamming foreign workers. This is an instant classic...


You do need some knowledge of Mandarin to really understand how good the lyrics are though..


The good thing about Blogger is I now get to embed youtube videos here, so you can now watch it straight..











......... and nobody gets hurt, capische??







** Link courtesy of Xin Long **

Food Poisoning Hell

Hall food tastes horrible. There is no need to go into detail again as it's a commonly known fact. You go for dinner every evening with the lowest expectations possible, anticipating horrible food and yet, like something out of a bad horror flick, the kitchen staff STILL manages to surprise you!!


And as if having to eat bad food everyday isn't bad enough, I got food poisoning off it last Wednesday. Okay, I also had some fast food that afternoon but it's easier to blame the nastier tasting one. So I got a stomach bug off a meal that I didn't even enjoy in the first place. If there's anything worse than getting screwed, it's getting screwed twice.




Here, let's try something. Try and picture this.




You're married to a fat lady. Day after day, you come home from your 9-5 job, exhausted from your long day of web-surfing and water-cooler chatting, and you come home to a less than flattering looking woman. She's the complete package: she burps when she eats, she snorts every now and then and she has a huge mole on her nose. Oh yeah, and she weighs 400 pounds. You don't like to face her, but you have to because she lives with you. You put up with it day after day after day until one beautiful night, while you're both sleeping on the bed, she rolls over, squashes you and you suffocate. You kick and you struggle and you felt like hell. You fall unconscious, and you're immediately rushed to the hospital.



Here's the best part: a) You survive. b) Yep, she's still your wife.





Twist it a bit and that is exactly how it is with hall food at my place at the moment.






I woke up at around 5 am last Thursday and I didn't feel right at all. For some reason, I was feeling incredibly nauseous. I went to the toilet to take a leak and on the way back to my room, I felt it. I quickly opened my room door, jumped for the sink immediately and it was amazing, what I puked. Pure water with a bit of scraps, and believe me when I tell you, it wasn't a trickle, it was like turning on a tap at full blast. My knees were completely weak while I was doing The Great Puke.



I felt a bit better after that and decided to sleep it off but that's when the fever struck. Not long after, I begin to feel that gastric like pain at the stomach area. Cue my first trip to the loo. I shall spare you the details. All I will say is that it was nothing disgusting, just water. As in really fluid water, water. and to round everything off and tie it with a ribbon, I had a presentation later that day.



I love presentations and public speaking, it's one of the few things I excel in. I was up all night preparing the business pitch for the water pump my group designed but it was all to go to waste. I decided to split the parts up for my groupmates to present and needless to say, with the lack of preparation time, it didn't come off very well.



Later that afternoon, I managed to make an appointment with the doctor at 9am the next day, which is very lucky. Yeah, you have to make appointments here in the UK, and sometimes, you have to wait out an entire weekend to see a doctor even if you have a fever!



I took some off the pills I brought from Malaysia. I got those the last time I had food poisoning in Malaysia and since the University Hospital people were really generous with the drugs, I have excess. I had to fight the pain the entire night and the loss of appetite really wasn't helping at all. The good news was I managed to sweat out the fever by nightfall.




I was much better the following morning when I went for my doctor's appointment. His name was Dr. Royal and right from the get-go, I noticed something wrong. He was typing in my symptoms into the computer and out came a list of what the disease was, and how to treat it etc etc. I don't know about you but when I go to see a doctor, the last thing I want to see on his screen is this!




















No, it wasn't exactly Google and one of my medic friends later explained that doctors have to follow certain procedures for treating certain diseases to avoid getting sued. In any case, he does know what he is doing and he only brought up the page to print it for me so fair play.




















What irked me though, was the treatment he suggested: there are no treatment, just drink more fluids and get more rest. Translated in my head as: just sit out the pain and pray hard it goes away in a few days. What the... nothing? not even some pain-killers or the like? When I had gastroenteritis in Malaysia, the hospital people jabbed something into me and instantly (literally), I felt much better. Like I said just now, they even gave me some medicine to bring home.




So I guess, the point of seeing a doctor is to confirm that you have the disease you already know you have. Oh, and the doctor's letter. Which is actually not a bad consolation because now I get to delay the submission of my coursework that was due on Friday for a whole weekend. Not bad.




My mum went mental on me when she heard I got food poisoning. Can't blame her, I've been here barely half a year and I've already been sick thrice. She's hell-bent on getting me home for Easter because she "can't trust me to take care of myself". Mothers, over-protective much. My baby's been real caring though, as always, muaks muaks.




By the way, after the last post about "gaining weight", I actually managed to gain weight: 3kg to be exact. The kick in the nuts? I got food poisoning and flushed all my efforts down the toilet, literally. Life is good.