Sigh ...

I was just blogging about "Apathi" the other day when yesterday my own colleague decided to be another dumb fark.

This colleague is a very senior in her field of work (about 9 years standing) and she is supposedly to be very good with her English. Well, she acts snobbish and high and mighty all the friggin time and is always seen carrying a novel or a book. So the assumption is that she is good with her English. Besides, she was always correcting my language especially when I speak Manglish. By the way, she is the exact replica of Popeye's other half, Olive Oyl except for her hair. Looks like a bunch of mangled thin steel wires on her head. Worse than the Kalahari Bushmen's hair.

Anyway, it was yesterday when the entire office was having lunch together and someone brought up the topic of our Malaysia Boleh government's money collection efforts.

Me: ... yeah, since they can't collect anymore from traffic offenders, I guess they are now focusing on a new target ... student loans.

Olive Oyl: Nooooooo....! You would be surprised. They will have some kind of Oops here and another Oops there to collect the money from the traffic offenders.

Oops? What Oops? What da fark is this bitch talking about? I thought to myself.

Me: errr... i don't think they can collect anymore? everyone has kinda paid up?

Olive Oyl: Even if they have paid up, they will always conduct some Oops to catch these people.

Damn. She said Oops again. So there was nothing wrong with my hearing.

Me: errr... what Oops are you talking about?

Olive Oyl (Looking aghast): Haven't you been reading the papers? The police always have these Oops. You know ... like the ones for traffic called Oops Sikap...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA....! I howled with laughter.

Me: Ops is it? Oops pulak! Its Ops lah. As in Operations. Oops when you make mistake!Hahahahahahahaha ....

And guess what? She got angry at me for that ... tibais!

Stag Nite

The girlfriends and wives of my machas are asking what's the deal with stag nite. And why can't we tell them about stag nite.

Hello??!!! That's because you women can't handle it!

Okay. You ladies really want to know? Well, recently, one of our machas got married. So as usual, we organised a stag nite. We all went to this street where all the stag nite joints are located (ahem, of course the name of the place has to be kept a secret. Otherwise, I am advertising for them for free) to check out the prices and the "goods".

While we were standing outside this particular club (let's call it Staggers), this pimp was standing there watching us. He then walked up to us with a swagger and asked us, "boss, you want ah moi?" And our mouths drooled like a pack of hungry wolves and we were speechless. Not a word was said.

At the look of our expression on our faces, the pimp went sigh .... okay, boss, you come in. I show you.

Once inside, it was heavenly. It was a friggin harem in there. All you can see were girls. Just friggin hot sexy chicks everywhere. All the girls were in lingeries. Lacy stuff. Thongs. Garters. Not even a single male in there ... well, except for the bouncer who was a 6' 7" hairy singh. The bartender was just another hot chick and she was in thongs only! Topless!!! Phew! It was hot. Friggin hot in there. All I can say was, its like victoria's secret's models were having a party in there.

The girls squealed when they saw us hungry wolves walked in. And some of us already have a hard on by just looking around. Its just girls everywhere. We don't know where to start. Next thing we know, it was like a scene from National Geographic where a pack of wolves hunt for their dinner. Except in this case, the wolves just ran after the girls nearest to them, clawing and ripping off the lingeries during the hunt. The wolves didn't even bother about buying the drinks first. Even the bartender was not spared. One wolf jumped over the bar and started shagging the bartender. Forget the foreplays. It was just a grab and shag thingy. It was ... heavenly. It's good to have a harem.

While all the wolves were in their hunt, the stag decided to behave. Of all the nights he chose, he chose his bachelor night to behave. What da fark??!!! And because of him, some of the wolves, could not hunt ... yet. They have to try to convince him that its a Hunter's Moon and after his wedding, he'll be a vegetarian for the rest of his life. While some of the wolves were finished with one prey and starting on another prey, damn stag was still being all good and noble. Tibai. Now all this time, the Hairy Bouncer was eyeing and smiling at the stag. It was kinda worrying.

Finally, we gave up and got some of the girls to hunt the stag instead. The girls screamed and ran after the stag. Damn stag was fast and like a bull, ran out of the club. The girls stopped as they were all naked by then and it would not be a good idea for them to run after the stag in public. Just then, our Hairy Bouncer dashed out in a flash and chased down our stag. It was another National Geographic classic. A scene from the lions hunting down its prey. In this case, the Hairy Bouncer and the stag. The Hairy Bouncer grabbed the stag by the throat and dragged the stag back into the club in handcuffs and chains. Then the girls wanted to have their share of their hunt but damn Hairy Bouncer growled a loud growl and decided to shoot the stag by using his "SPEAR". The girls weren't going to fight the Hairy Bouncer for the stag. Guess that's why the groom's ass was painful the next day and walking kangkang like John Wayne. Definitely not a case of hemorrhoids.

The wolves left the club with tongues hanging out, satisfied and happy. It was a job well done. All the girls were left lying on the floor, exhausted. So was the stag. And everyone lived happily ever after ... until the next stag nite. Haha.

The machahood made a pact that night, that whatever happened that night will remain a secret among the machas only. And if you are asking why I have betrayed that pact by telling it in my blog, well, I understand that some wankers out there has already confessed to their queen alien of the stag nite and since the secret is already out, i might as well try to generate more hits to my blog ... heh heh

*and if you girls actually believe the above are true accounts ... i don't know what to say ..

Budget Flight

I have taken a few flights on our budget airline and sadly, Malaysians are just ... typical Malaysians. The following are just random blogs or notes for our kiasu Malaysians when it comes to taking a budget flight:

1. Yes, it's true. The tickets don't have seat numbers. But if you have been issued a ticket, you will definitely have a seat.

2. Yes, it's also true. You have to check in early. Not because you have to fight for your seat but its airline regulations that you check in early. If you have been issued a ticket, you will definitely have a seat.

3. Please queue up. You don't have to gather in a huge crowd at the boarding lounge. If you have been issued a ticket, you will definitely have a seat.

4. You don't have to run to the plane. If you have been issued a ticket, you will definitely have a seat.

5. No, you will not be asked to "Masuk belakang lagi, masuk belakang lagi! Buat dua baris!" (Move back some more, make two rows) and no, there are no handrails on the top. If you have been issued a ticket, you will definitely have a seat.

6. No, you don't have to throw your hand luggage in through the aircraft window to book your seat. If you have been issued a ticket, you will definitely have a seat.

7. No need to fight for seats. No such thing as "chun" seats. Plane crash, you still die. Terrorist bomb, you still die. Terrorist shoot rocket, you still die. So, if you have been issued a ticket, you will definitely have a seat.

8. No, they don't serve you food. That's what budget airline is all about. No frills flight, remember? If you want food, you have to buy from them? Of course its expensive! How do you think you make a profit? By selling your things at cost? Duh!?

9. Yes, they want you to buy their food. So NO OUTSIDE FOOD ALLOWED! Last flight I was on, this family of 9 were passing around this huge farking bag of McDonald's.

10. Even though it's budget flight, the safety equipments have not been compromised. You don't have to bring your own life jacket.

Apathy Kills

Recently, there was a headline in the newspaper that says, "APATHY KILLS!". A sad story on how uncaring Malaysians can be. A couple was knocked down and no one stopped to help send the pregnant wife to the hospital even though the injured husband tried frantically to wave someone down. Eventually someone stopped but it was too late. The wife and the unborn twins did not make it.

I wonder what the Malaysians are thinking when they saw a woman lying beside the road and a husband trying to wave them down? That it was a trick and once they stopped, they would be robbed? Or ... if the woman dies in their car or they carry a dead body in their car ... then they will be "suey" for the rest of their lifes? Better still, the ghost of the woman and her unborn twins will haunt their car for eternity?

But what I want to blog here is that there are some "posers" out there. I was at the mamak that morning when I noticed a group of well dressed up men and women sitted next to my table. Office attires. Ties. Executive like. One of them was reading the papers with the headline, "APATHY KILLS!". I was happily eating my roti canai when one of these pundeks said out aloud, "Who the hell is this APAHTI fella huh? He kill again ah? How come no one catch him yet? Who did he kill last time?"

I almost choked on my roti canai. Could even feel the curry ikan coming out through my nose.

St Valentine's

This is gonna damage my rep but ... here goes ...

Dearest K,

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY.

Hope you like the gifts and the bands.

Luv,

Papa Cow.

Sigh ... this is like shooting myself in the foot.

Kampung Rules

Every Chinese New Year, without fail, we would play Blackjack. Since we were kids. And the Kampung Rules were well established eons ago. But every year, some trickster would forget the Kampung Rules and we have to lay the rules down again. One particular trickster would be Cicak. Cicak ... these are the rules ...

1. Please stop at 21.

2. Two Cards - 21 (i.e. Blackjack) means pay double

3. Two Cards - Aces means pay triple

4. Any number of cards - get 21 means still pay double

5. Five cards - 21 - means pay triple

6. If Five cards - you go bust, means you pay everyone double

7. Please also stop at 5 cards, even though you have not reach 21 yet.

8. If 3 cards, triple 7 - means you pay 7 times

9. Minimum to stay is 16.

10. No wearing of red underwear.

Gong Xi Fa Cai 2005

The year 2005 is the Year of the Rooster, according to the Chinese Zodiac. The rooster has traditionally been considered to be a good sign as its crow meant the break of dawn, the beginning of a fresh start. People believed that ghosts and evil spirits afraid of the light would disappear when a rooster crowed. Thus, even though roosters were raised for food, it was also a spiritual animal that drove away demons.

Among the 12 animals of the Chinese zodiac, the rooster is the only one with wings. It has been regarded as the messenger that connects the two worlds, heaven and earth. The rooster is historically known to have five virtues: knowledge, military expertise, courage, benevolence and credibility.

The rooster's crest is called "pyosul" in Korean and "kwan" in Chinese, which means coronet as well as government post. The coronet on its head represents the pen meaning knowledge, while its claw symbolizes the sword, corresponding to military skills. When confronted by an enemy, it fights till the end without ever retreating, testifying to its quality of courage. Also, when the rooster finds food, it cries out and shares it with other animals, showing benevolence. Lastly, it never fails to crow on time, informing people of the break of day, demonstrating great credibility.

To all of you guys n gals,

"Xin Nian Kuai Le, Wan Shi Ru Yi"
(Happy Chinese New Year, May a Thousand Goodness Come In Your Way)

and Gong Xi Fa Cai.

Close 2 Heaven - Finale

THE AFTERMATH. While I was still sober and standing, I yelled, “B! Where are the phone numbers?!” That woman gave me 5 numbers alright. And not one number was K’s. She said I did not specify whose number I wanted. Damn! Conned and suckered by B.

Within 15 minutes, could feel all the damn alcohol kicking in. We managed to walk back to the beach house. At the beach house, I was still sober enough to remove my contact lenses and remember talking some cock. Next thing I can only remember, I was going to bed but managed to grab a plastic bag on the way to bed.

Somewhere around midnite, I decided .. yup, time to barf. And I got up but was so damn pissed drunk, I dunno where I was. I thought I was opening the bathroom door but was told later by Ren and Stimpy that I was only opening the closet door. Haha. They dragged me to the bathroom but before I reached there, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Pissed as I was, I still managed to barf into the plastic bag. Not bad for a pissed drunk lembu.

Once in the bathroom, I just hugged the damn toilet bowl and barfed and barfed and barfed. Haha. Bastards were all taking pictures and video of me barfing. Tibais.

I slept there for about an hour before getting up and going back to bed. Woke up the next morning at 0700 hours, to the amazement of all the Americans. Just a little bit of hangover, otherwise, I was fine. Was damn friggin hungry. We had late breakfast cos’ everyone was still sleeping. Walked around the beach a little and had some really good juices at Jonah’s. I would recommend tourists to have some fruit shakes at Jonah’s. We went back to the scene of the crime, Cocomangas as we wanted a picture of the menu but the place was closed. Darn.

We packed and left for the airport that day. And we did make a promise, that someday, a reunion would be held in Boracay. Our stay was too short. At the airport, the Americans left for Manila and I went back to Cebu. It was a sad farewell. There was a strong bonding between us after the few days spent together. And all was quiet at the airport. Either everyone was tired or, everyone was just sad that its parting time. I managed to get Lady M to run a little errand for me in Manila.

Back in Cebu, I had dinner at B’s dad’s company’s annual dinner. That night itself, I spent the night at B’s house and the next day, it was back to KL for me. On the flight back, I had another “run-in” with kids again. This woman with her baby and her husband sat next to me. Darn baby was not co-operating and cried for the whole friggin journey. Sighs …

Close 2 Heaven Part XIII

15 SHOTS. Day 2 in Boracay. Breakfast was at Friday’s and it was water activities after breakfast. We did the Banana Boat thingy and rest assured, T, Ren, Stimpy and I were the trouble makers on the boat. Damn thing overturned so much the boat operator was getting kinda pissed at us. After lunch we went snorkeling with Ren almost breaking the top deck of the boat from his swan dives. We also did a tour round the island thingy and headed back to the island with hopes of catching the sun set. By the time we got back to the island, the sun was already setting but we still managed to grab a couple of great shots. Dinner was again at Waling Waling.

After dinner, we decided to visit the infamous Cocomangas. This place is famous for the 15 shots and still standing thingy. Finish 15 shots of liquor and if you are still standing, you get a shirt and your name goes up on the wall. We checked out the wall and it was a big ass wall with damn a lot of friggin names. Then there was a scoreboard of the number of nationalities that achieved the 15 shots thingy. Malaysia’s count was 22. I thought Malaysia would have more alcoholics than that. But then again, probably Malaysians don’t know about Cocomangas.

It was still early and the place was not filled up yet. Only a few chicks here and there, mostly staff of Cocomangas. I saw Stimpy sitting by the bar and I walked over. Stimpy was asking the bartender about the 15 shots and I went, “hey, you going to do it?”

Stimpy: Nah, I just want to see what’s its like. Can you show us what the 15 shots consist of?

The bartender showed us a menu. Each shot was a concoction/mixture of different liquor.

Me: Damn. Can you look at that. Farking evil drinks man.

Stimpy: yeah … hey, can you show us how does a shot look like?

The bartender placed one of the glass on the table. Damn. Its one hell of a big shot.

Me: errr… if you don’t mind, can you line up 15 glasses on the table? So that we can see what’s 15 shots like?

The bartender obliged and placed 15 glasses on the table. Damn … scary.

Stimpy: hey, you wanna do it?

Me: nah … enough drinking. Besides, its kinda expensive.

Stimpy: Come on man! Look, I’ll pay half.

Me: No way.

Stimpy: hey, I still owe you money for this morning’s breakfast.

That’s when everyone else crowded round the table and egged me on. Damn. What am I? Some circus entertainer?

Me: Give me an incentive why I should do this? Besides getting really happy afterwards.

B: hey chee chee, you can have the phone numbers (earlier I was asking for phone numbers of the chicks at the wedding especially K’s phone number)

Me: really? You’ll give me the phone numbers?

B: yeah, I’ll give you five phone numbers.

Me: alright, let’s do it!

Stimpy: hey, we’ve gotta have a strategy.

Me: what strategy?

Stimpy: you can take your time to finish the 15 shots. As long as you want. But I would suggest you eat something in between so that it can absorb the alcohol.

Me: so what are you suggesting?

Stimpy: well, eat something. Like a banana. Hey do you have a banana? (Stimpy asked the bartender and the bartender placed a banana on the table besides the 15 glasses) Okay, you take 7 shots, and you rest. Chew on the banana.

Me: what the fark? I feel like a boxer now. Let’s do it. (The bartender fills up the 15 glasses. Damn, they looked damn farking colorful and evil. For a color blind person and if I can see all those colors in the 15 glasses, I am in deep shit!)

My strategy was, down the farking glasses as fast as I could. If I take my time, I would probably be on the floor. I took the first 5 shots really fast. Downing them. But I felt sick. Maybe I downed them too farking fast. And it tasted bad. Farking foul. Felt like barfing there and then. Not from being drunk. But damn thing tasted foul. I stopped. Trying hard to burp out some gas.

Stimpy: here, here, chew on the banana. (I started chewing)

Z: hey chee chee, you want music to go with your drinks?

Me: yeah, get me limpbizkit’s Mission Impossible!

Z ran over to the deejay consul and came back after a few minutes. They don’t have that.

Me: Then get me Numb.

Z: who’s the singer?

Me: Linkin Park lah tibai.

Okay okay. Z ran back to the deejay. 5minutes later, he came back.

Z: they don’t have that either.

Me: what the fark?

Z: but I told them to play Crawling. Figured you’ll be crawling back after this.

A couple of minutes later … where’s the music? Fark it. I downed the remainder 9 shots at a go. Damn thing tasted friggin foul. I was supposed to write my name down and my comments but no thanks to pundek Z, God knows what he wrote in the book Farking fowl? Bangsat! I further suspect he put his own name down instead. Tibai dog.

Whatever it is, Malaysia’s score is now 23.

Close 2 Heaven Part XII

BORACAY. Again I didn’t sleep much. After spending the whole night with K, I only managed half an hour of sleep. Iceman and Wor Siong woke up around 0700 hours and we went down for breakfast. The wedding ceremony’s over. And so is the reception. My comrades, Iceman and Wor Siong would be leaving today.

During breakfast, I called K but was told that she has gone back to Manila. Hmmm .. they must have flights from Cebu to Manila like the bas mini wilayah. Wor Siong was the first to fly out. He left while we were having breakfast. Then it was goodbyes at the hotel lobby for Iceman and Ah Boey. Feels kinda sad with all the goodbyes going on. I was to hop over to another island called Boracay with the newly wed and the Americans. Somehow, I was wishing that I had purchased an earlier flight out back to KL instead of hanging around and having this lousy feeling.

After the rest of the Malaysians have left, I followed the Americans to the mall as T wanted to courier back a guitar to the States. Funny name to have for a mall. S & M. Heh heh. It was one big ass mall. We took a cab to the mall and the cab was one sick machine. We can smell the farking exhaust in the car. Its as if the driver wants to commit suicide and take us along with him.

After the mall, we went to the airport and left for Boracay. My balls were up to my throat when I saw the damn plane to Boracay. It was one of those friggin World War II planes and still has propellers. No friggin air con. The only ventilation was from the pilot’s opened window. When the air crew announced the emergency procedures, it was the first time I farking paid attention. Real tibai. I even thought for a moment, someone has to go spin the propellers in order to start it spinning.

When we finally landed, you could hear Stimpy shout out “Thank God!”

From the airport, we took a boat ride to Boracay. We reached Boracay just in time for sunset and I stayed with the Americans at a beach house called Robinson’s. It was a beautiful place. We took a ride on one of those motorcycle cabs. It was an amazing sight seeing 5 of us pack into it. Stimpy was hanging on by the side and was almost thrown off by another on coming bike. We had a snack at this cool place called Hey Jude and later agreed to meet up again with Z and B and their friends for dinner.

Dinner time came and Z and B were missing. We ended up having dinner at Waling Waling. It was dinner on the beach. It was a really nice setting. That night, we just sat on the beach and later went back to the beach house to laze around, watching stars, listening to the waves and drinking wine.

At this time, I was feeling kinda blue. I was missing something. Or someone.