Fourth Dream
I do not recall much about this one. Perhaps I took too long to record it. The earliest part I could recall from it was that I was catching the coverage of the end of the world on television. The world was strangely calm despite the knowledge that everyone was doomed. Suddenly I was in the scene on TV. I was at some beachfront. There was a huge manor facing it and there were people milling about on the beach. The weather was dreary. I knew it was cold, not because I felt it, but because it was snowing. Large snowflakes were falling from the dark skies. So large, you could see the patterns on them, yet they were falling ever so gently. Somehow I knew I was in England though I have never been there. The people were dressed in Edwardian styled clothing. All seem calm and collected, looking towards the sea. They were anticipating something, but what? Were they waiting for the world to end?
*missing memory*
It was no longer the end of the world anymore. Somehow the situation in the dream had transitioned. But I was still in England with my mom. I went off alone to walk along the streets. None of the buildings look familiar to me. I wanted to go to the beach but the beach was filthy. The water was murky and there were all sorts of debris washed up along the shore. All a sudden I was walking among bookshelves, and the street was no longer a street but it seem to be some kind of huge bookstore. On the shelves were a lot of art related books and magazines but all of them seem to be outdated. I couldn't remember the titles but I think one of them spelled, "How to Draw Couples in Love".
*missing memory*
Fifth Dream
*missing memory*
I was in some kind of meeting. I forgot what it was about but I was bored. I decided to escape to the washroom. I calmly went through the door that clearly said "GENTS" but strangely there were women inside of it. The women stared at me as if I was the intruder. I went back to the door again and it still clearly said, "GENTS". Another woman came through the door and she seem shocked to see me there, and then she became angry.
"What are you doing here?!" she asked angrily.
"This is the gents, I think you're in the wrong place," I answered.
"I don't believe you!" she replied back.
So I took her to the door and showed her the sign. She covered her mouth in embarrassment, and then she quickly left without another word. After a while, a guy came in, he looked pretty ordinary but attractive in a way. He smiled at me and made some small talk which I couldn't remember what. He asked me if I would like to do lunch with him and I agreed. We came out of the washroom and without surprise, it seem to lead right onto a street. It was suppose to be somewhere in KL, but it looked more like Singapore. I followed him as he lead the way. I knew he was interested in me. Halfway following him, I seem to find something wrong with my pants and I had to take them off. RIGHT ON THE STREETS! No one even seem to care or notice that I was standing there with my pants off in ridiculous looking boxers (though I don't wear boxers in real life).
I had to find a place to put my pants on again and I quickly darted into this shop. I couldn't really describe it, just that it looked more like some kind of emporium. So I slipped my pants on again but when I came out I had lost the guy. I didn't know how to find him again because I don't even have his number and he didn't have mine. I remember being only slightly disappointed.
*missing memory*
I was cycling home on a mountain bike. When I came home, my mom told me someone was waiting for me. There was someone lying on my couch reading. When I went around it, I saw it was the same guy I lost on the streets. He smiled, and somehow I thought it was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.
"Hey!"
Somehow he had found my number through the newspaper which he showed me. That was when I realised that the number was not mine, and that I was not even myself. I was someone else.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Cheeky Cheeky
Hitz.fm this morning was apparently clearing old hits from their database. These "old hits" were apparently none other than the audio terrorists of yesteryears. I am talking about songs like The Ketchup Song, The Cheeky Song (Touch My Bum) and probably a host of other irritating lala beng "hits" like Macarena, Blue (Da Ba Dee) and God-knows-what-else. Notice how all the titles doesn't even seem to make any sense? The Cheeky Song? Touch My Bum? Why not Squeeze My Boobies while they're at it.
So anyway there I was arriving at the office and I was struggling to find my season parking pass while I opened my car windows. As I slipped the pass into the slot, I'd suddenly noticed to my horror, that Dr Bombay's Calcutta (a.k.a. Taxi, Taxi, Taxi) was playing relatively loudly on my radio. Loud enough for anyone within a 10 meter radius to hear. Nearby was a bank, a cafeteria and a restaurant. Right across the road was a school. I have inadvertently showed the world that I was a lala beng sans the multi-coloured bad hair and Harajuku fashion. Needless to say, I couldn't close the window fast enough to control the damage. And it didn't occur to me to just change the radio station.
Fuck.
So anyway there I was arriving at the office and I was struggling to find my season parking pass while I opened my car windows. As I slipped the pass into the slot, I'd suddenly noticed to my horror, that Dr Bombay's Calcutta (a.k.a. Taxi, Taxi, Taxi) was playing relatively loudly on my radio. Loud enough for anyone within a 10 meter radius to hear. Nearby was a bank, a cafeteria and a restaurant. Right across the road was a school. I have inadvertently showed the world that I was a lala beng sans the multi-coloured bad hair and Harajuku fashion. Needless to say, I couldn't close the window fast enough to control the damage. And it didn't occur to me to just change the radio station.
Fuck.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Snakes & Ladders
Third Dream
*missing memory*
I was in the gym. It was suppose to be Fitness First but it does not look like any of the Fitness First outlets I am familiar with. Someone who shall not be named was there but I do not look at him. Even in my dreams I have a dislike for him.
*missing memory*
I was walking to the locker and shower room. Like the rest of the gym it does not look familiar. I went to use the showers and it definitely looks unfamiliar. The shower stalls suddenly seem to resemble some kind of kampung house toilet. Yes, TOILET! In fact it seem more like the shower was a squatting toilet with the shower head right above. The toilet was filthy but I used it to shower anyway. Even stranger, the door seem to have some kind of netting where you can look out but people from outside can't look in.
*missing memory*
We had left the gym. I don't know who "we" were but they seem to be my friends. Only one of them was someone I know; Manny, a fellow instructor from the gym. We were going up this house on the hill. I don't know whose house it was or why we were going there. Funny thing in dreams you don't ask questions such as these, you just do what you have to do. The house was just an ordinary house, not big, not small either. In the house's grounds were a lot of snakes, but I didn't know this yet until we reached the gate, and someone yelled and ran. And then I saw it, one of the snakes, it reared its head aggressively and hissed at me. I jumped around to avoid it. That's when I noticed there were dead snakes all around. Some bloodied, some mutilated, some dismembered. I ran clumsily to avoid stepping on the gruesome sight all around me. An intruder had killed the snakes. Suddenly we were all on guard. I picked up a stick and from the hand of one of my companions I grabbed what seem to resemble a part of a broken umbrella. I was wielding it like as if it was some kind of lightsaber.
"I think you would need something stronger than that," Manny said, gesturing at my pathetic looking stick.
"It's ok," I replied quite confidently.
As we progressed cautiously towards the house, someone had swept away all the corpses of the snakes. Two of us finally reached the opened front door, and I went for the nearest room. I threw open the door and swung my "weapon" around offensively and yelled, "FREEZE! DON'T MOVE!". But in the room was just a half-dressed guy and I somehow knew he was a tenant of the house.
"What...?!" he replied, obviously shocked at my intrusion.
I did not answer him and proceeded to check the rest of the house. I knew whoever killed the snakes was gone. Suddenly I was sitting down, with both my parents on either side of me. From the top level of the house, a group of blonde young girls in very girlish dresses came trooping down but there were no stairs, just half-completed metal ladders. When they came to the unfinished rung, they just made a huge leap down and landed neatly on their feet. Though I never seen them in my life, I knew they were daughters of a friend who lived in the house.
My father said, "It would be good to have some young children in the house."
"Not unless they are yours," my mother quipped
"Just try to think about when we were young," I said.
And then I woke up.
*missing memory*
I was in the gym. It was suppose to be Fitness First but it does not look like any of the Fitness First outlets I am familiar with. Someone who shall not be named was there but I do not look at him. Even in my dreams I have a dislike for him.
*missing memory*
I was walking to the locker and shower room. Like the rest of the gym it does not look familiar. I went to use the showers and it definitely looks unfamiliar. The shower stalls suddenly seem to resemble some kind of kampung house toilet. Yes, TOILET! In fact it seem more like the shower was a squatting toilet with the shower head right above. The toilet was filthy but I used it to shower anyway. Even stranger, the door seem to have some kind of netting where you can look out but people from outside can't look in.
*missing memory*
We had left the gym. I don't know who "we" were but they seem to be my friends. Only one of them was someone I know; Manny, a fellow instructor from the gym. We were going up this house on the hill. I don't know whose house it was or why we were going there. Funny thing in dreams you don't ask questions such as these, you just do what you have to do. The house was just an ordinary house, not big, not small either. In the house's grounds were a lot of snakes, but I didn't know this yet until we reached the gate, and someone yelled and ran. And then I saw it, one of the snakes, it reared its head aggressively and hissed at me. I jumped around to avoid it. That's when I noticed there were dead snakes all around. Some bloodied, some mutilated, some dismembered. I ran clumsily to avoid stepping on the gruesome sight all around me. An intruder had killed the snakes. Suddenly we were all on guard. I picked up a stick and from the hand of one of my companions I grabbed what seem to resemble a part of a broken umbrella. I was wielding it like as if it was some kind of lightsaber.
"I think you would need something stronger than that," Manny said, gesturing at my pathetic looking stick.
"It's ok," I replied quite confidently.
As we progressed cautiously towards the house, someone had swept away all the corpses of the snakes. Two of us finally reached the opened front door, and I went for the nearest room. I threw open the door and swung my "weapon" around offensively and yelled, "FREEZE! DON'T MOVE!". But in the room was just a half-dressed guy and I somehow knew he was a tenant of the house.
"What...?!" he replied, obviously shocked at my intrusion.
I did not answer him and proceeded to check the rest of the house. I knew whoever killed the snakes was gone. Suddenly I was sitting down, with both my parents on either side of me. From the top level of the house, a group of blonde young girls in very girlish dresses came trooping down but there were no stairs, just half-completed metal ladders. When they came to the unfinished rung, they just made a huge leap down and landed neatly on their feet. Though I never seen them in my life, I knew they were daughters of a friend who lived in the house.
My father said, "It would be good to have some young children in the house."
"Not unless they are yours," my mother quipped
"Just try to think about when we were young," I said.
And then I woke up.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Dream Log
First Dream
In my dream he was going out with my ex. He was someone who completed my life a year ago, and then it ended against my wishes. My EX. Both of them were sitting side by side in this cafeteria place that I have never seen before but can only be conjured up in dreams.
"Yeah, they have been seeing each other," Vince suddenly told me. He just appeared out of nowhere in the way that is only possible in dreams.
Stab to the heart. I remembered trying to move out of sight.
*missing memory*
I was crying, and he was trying to comfort me. I didn't give a shit about the ex. But I was upset about him. He held me and told me not to cry. I think I wanted to tell him how much I still love and miss him but I can't remember if I did. But he didn't need to be told does he?
*missing memory*
I was in this place that resembled one of those ancient South American Mayan/Incan temple complexes. Some crazy priest was holding us prisoner. "Us"? "Us" was a group of people I don't seem to know. The crazy priest had opened a tomb and in it was the richly decorated skeleton of some long dead lord. He poured some flammable stuff into the tomb and said he was going to burn the remains, and when it is gone one of us will have to lie in the tomb. The person he referred to was specific, and it was this blond woman who was with us. Suddenly she was lying on the slab above the tomb, dressed in white. I knew I had to stop him. I picked up a stick and bludgeoned the crazy old man. Although he appeared affected by the blows he didn't seem injured, and then he said he would follow us.
*missing memory*
Second Dream
I was in this theatre. The kind where you do live plays in. I don't remember what we were discussing about but Nicholas Cage was among us. Not just ordinary Nicholas Cage, but an old Nicholas Cage. When we were done talking, I offered to walk Mr Cage to wherever he needed to go. I offered him my arm to hold and he gladly took it.
"I just watched one of your movies recently, Mr Cage," I said casually as he shuffled along.
"Oh really, which one?" he replied.
I found I couldn't remember the name of the movie and I was trying to describe it to him, and he passively suggested a few titles. None of which I remembered.
"The Vampire's Kiss," I suddenly remembered.
He just nodded absently.
When we reached our destination he said, "Next time, go watch something more worthwhile with your friends,".
I guess he didn't really liked that movie either. And "your friends"? I watched that movie alone.
In my dream he was going out with my ex. He was someone who completed my life a year ago, and then it ended against my wishes. My EX. Both of them were sitting side by side in this cafeteria place that I have never seen before but can only be conjured up in dreams.
"Yeah, they have been seeing each other," Vince suddenly told me. He just appeared out of nowhere in the way that is only possible in dreams.
Stab to the heart. I remembered trying to move out of sight.
*missing memory*
I was crying, and he was trying to comfort me. I didn't give a shit about the ex. But I was upset about him. He held me and told me not to cry. I think I wanted to tell him how much I still love and miss him but I can't remember if I did. But he didn't need to be told does he?
*missing memory*
I was in this place that resembled one of those ancient South American Mayan/Incan temple complexes. Some crazy priest was holding us prisoner. "Us"? "Us" was a group of people I don't seem to know. The crazy priest had opened a tomb and in it was the richly decorated skeleton of some long dead lord. He poured some flammable stuff into the tomb and said he was going to burn the remains, and when it is gone one of us will have to lie in the tomb. The person he referred to was specific, and it was this blond woman who was with us. Suddenly she was lying on the slab above the tomb, dressed in white. I knew I had to stop him. I picked up a stick and bludgeoned the crazy old man. Although he appeared affected by the blows he didn't seem injured, and then he said he would follow us.
*missing memory*
Second Dream
I was in this theatre. The kind where you do live plays in. I don't remember what we were discussing about but Nicholas Cage was among us. Not just ordinary Nicholas Cage, but an old Nicholas Cage. When we were done talking, I offered to walk Mr Cage to wherever he needed to go. I offered him my arm to hold and he gladly took it.
"I just watched one of your movies recently, Mr Cage," I said casually as he shuffled along.
"Oh really, which one?" he replied.
I found I couldn't remember the name of the movie and I was trying to describe it to him, and he passively suggested a few titles. None of which I remembered.
"The Vampire's Kiss," I suddenly remembered.
He just nodded absently.
When we reached our destination he said, "Next time, go watch something more worthwhile with your friends,".
I guess he didn't really liked that movie either. And "your friends"? I watched that movie alone.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Jack Ass
"You had a hundred billion chances and ways to have avoided today. But you decided to spill my blood. You forced me into a corner and gave me only one option. The decision was yours. Now you have blood on your hands that will never wash off."
"Your Mercedes wasn't enough, you brats. Your golden necklaces weren't enough, you snobs. Your trust funds wasn't enough. Your vodka and cognac wasn't enough. All your debaucheries weren't enough. Those weren't enough to fulfill your hedonistic needs. You had everything."
Oh yeah, Mr Cho, you certainly made a point there. The point that you will be nothing more than the loser jack ass that you always were. I'm sorry if I sound harsh, but the whole shooting incident at Virginia Tech, Blacksburg is absurd. Not that I am insensitive to the people who lost their lives and those who were affected by it. What kind of world have we come to where self righteous nerds go around shooting fellow students just because they couldn't get over their own angst. Seriously, evaluate it yourself, and you will realise the whole incident was stupid and sad to say, those 32 people died a meaningless death. There was no point to prove and there is really nothing to learn from it.
Few million years of evolution and here we are, buffoons who give way to their emotions to kill. So perhaps we are no different from our cousins at the lower end of the gene pool. At least animals kill to survive. This dim wit here killed because he doesn't have what other people have. Oh God, fucking get over yourself. You certainly did the right thing by killing yourself after your stupid deed. You're a waste of resources. The only tragedy is those other people have to die with you.
*Update
Colleague: Hey look, they have pictures of the Virginia Tech shooter online (colleague is rather slow with international news).
Me: It's been on since yesterday.
Colleague: Shit. (apparently shocked at the pictures)
Me: I think he looks like an idiot.
Colleague: Yeah man...
Enough said.
"Your Mercedes wasn't enough, you brats. Your golden necklaces weren't enough, you snobs. Your trust funds wasn't enough. Your vodka and cognac wasn't enough. All your debaucheries weren't enough. Those weren't enough to fulfill your hedonistic needs. You had everything."
Oh yeah, Mr Cho, you certainly made a point there. The point that you will be nothing more than the loser jack ass that you always were. I'm sorry if I sound harsh, but the whole shooting incident at Virginia Tech, Blacksburg is absurd. Not that I am insensitive to the people who lost their lives and those who were affected by it. What kind of world have we come to where self righteous nerds go around shooting fellow students just because they couldn't get over their own angst. Seriously, evaluate it yourself, and you will realise the whole incident was stupid and sad to say, those 32 people died a meaningless death. There was no point to prove and there is really nothing to learn from it.
Few million years of evolution and here we are, buffoons who give way to their emotions to kill. So perhaps we are no different from our cousins at the lower end of the gene pool. At least animals kill to survive. This dim wit here killed because he doesn't have what other people have. Oh God, fucking get over yourself. You certainly did the right thing by killing yourself after your stupid deed. You're a waste of resources. The only tragedy is those other people have to die with you.
"Oooo... Lookit me, I am gonna blow my brains out because I can't be hedonistic like you!"
*Update
Colleague: Hey look, they have pictures of the Virginia Tech shooter online (colleague is rather slow with international news).
Me: It's been on since yesterday.
Colleague: Shit. (apparently shocked at the pictures)
Me: I think he looks like an idiot.
Colleague: Yeah man...
Enough said.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Awwwww...
Now normally I am not a fan of animal movies. Why? Because they all tend to be stereotypical and tend to have scenes designed specifically to not only pull at your heartstrings but to forcefully yank at them till you are reduced to a wide eyed chibi going "Awwwwww...". But due to unforeseen circumstances, my intended purchase Perfume: The Story of a Murderer turned out to be a horribly censored copy with skips, so I ended up exchanging it for Charlotte's Web.
"What a huge difference!" said Sean.
Yes, from a pseudo-art movie about an insane body-odour obsessed killer to a good old-fashioned family movie designed specifically to make you go "Awwwww...". From the moment I set eyes on the DVD cover, I knew I was trapped.
Even the normally annoying Dakota Fanning who makes you want to bash her squealing character in War of the Worlds looks so sweet she makes you go.... yes you guessed it:
And who would have thought a villainous husband stealer like Julia Roberts who was so convincingly bitchy in Erin Brokovich could give life to the selfless spider Charlotte with her voice?
And all of the rest of the farm animals, voiced by such a star-studded cast which includes, Oprah Winfrey, Kathy Bates, Reba McEntire, Robert Redford, Steve Buscemi and John Cleese, they were simply adorable.
As expected, the ending just simply makes your heart bleed at the sheer goodness of the whole movie. Down to the closing credits with the theme "Ordinary Miracle" by my favourite artist Sarah McLachlan totally makes me go...
"What a huge difference!" said Sean.
Yes, from a pseudo-art movie about an insane body-odour obsessed killer to a good old-fashioned family movie designed specifically to make you go "Awwwww...". From the moment I set eyes on the DVD cover, I knew I was trapped.
Awwwwww...
Even the normally annoying Dakota Fanning who makes you want to bash her squealing character in War of the Worlds looks so sweet she makes you go.... yes you guessed it:
Awwwwww...
And who would have thought a villainous husband stealer like Julia Roberts who was so convincingly bitchy in Erin Brokovich could give life to the selfless spider Charlotte with her voice?
Awwwwww...
And all of the rest of the farm animals, voiced by such a star-studded cast which includes, Oprah Winfrey, Kathy Bates, Reba McEntire, Robert Redford, Steve Buscemi and John Cleese, they were simply adorable.
Awwwwww...
As expected, the ending just simply makes your heart bleed at the sheer goodness of the whole movie. Down to the closing credits with the theme "Ordinary Miracle" by my favourite artist Sarah McLachlan totally makes me go...
Awwwwww...
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Play-Doh of God
"BASEL, Switzerland (Reuters) - Steel and coal from the Titanic have been transformed into a new line of luxury wristwatches that claim to capture the essence of the legendary oceanliner which sank in 1912."
Are crocodiles scary? Maybe. Are tigers dangerous? Perhaps. Are sharks really bloodthirsty killers? Could be (although scientists say otherwise). But I think God made a mistake when he created humans. Or maybe He is just a Great Child who fashioned us out of cosmic Play-Doh and then like all children tend to be with a new toy, lost interest in us after a while. Over time, His creations ran amok on evolution, and one day decided to make watches out of the remains of a tragedy. No doubt if this happened in 1917, people of that era would have viewed it in bad taste. It would be like making toilet bowls out of ground up rubble of the World Trade Centre. 95 years from now this might just come true, and people of the future would worship the long deceased author of this blog as the new Nostradmus. But it would feel luxurious wouldn't it, crapping on the recycled rubble of America's "Greatest Tragedy" which probably contains miniscule remnants of its victims.
Speaking of human remains, anyone read about the company which could turn human cremains (that's the word for the remains of a cremated body) into a diamond? Yes folks, what they do is take your late grandmother's ashes and subject her carbon to intense pressure to artificially create a diamond. I can imagine the conversation now:
Dream guy: Hey, I have been watching you all night and I think you're hot.
Me: Oh gosh... hehe...
Dream guy: My name is [insert hot name] by the way, and I am wearing my grandmother around my finger.
Me: Uh... *stares at diamond ring in disbelief*
Or worse:
Dream guy: Darling, we have been together for some time...
Me: Yes?
Dream guy: Would you marry me? *on bended knee presenting diamond ring*
Me: OH GOD! YES YES YES!!! Oh baby, it's beautiful!
Dream guy: *Puts ring on my finger* I'm so glad you like it! It's made out of my grandmother by the way. Grandma, you look over my baby now.
Me: ...
It's like meeting the man of my dreams, and then meeting his beautiful pressurized grandmother.
Humans... joy.
Are crocodiles scary? Maybe. Are tigers dangerous? Perhaps. Are sharks really bloodthirsty killers? Could be (although scientists say otherwise). But I think God made a mistake when he created humans. Or maybe He is just a Great Child who fashioned us out of cosmic Play-Doh and then like all children tend to be with a new toy, lost interest in us after a while. Over time, His creations ran amok on evolution, and one day decided to make watches out of the remains of a tragedy. No doubt if this happened in 1917, people of that era would have viewed it in bad taste. It would be like making toilet bowls out of ground up rubble of the World Trade Centre. 95 years from now this might just come true, and people of the future would worship the long deceased author of this blog as the new Nostradmus. But it would feel luxurious wouldn't it, crapping on the recycled rubble of America's "Greatest Tragedy" which probably contains miniscule remnants of its victims.
Speaking of human remains, anyone read about the company which could turn human cremains (that's the word for the remains of a cremated body) into a diamond? Yes folks, what they do is take your late grandmother's ashes and subject her carbon to intense pressure to artificially create a diamond. I can imagine the conversation now:
Dream guy: Hey, I have been watching you all night and I think you're hot.
Me: Oh gosh... hehe...
Dream guy: My name is [insert hot name] by the way, and I am wearing my grandmother around my finger.
Me: Uh... *stares at diamond ring in disbelief*
Or worse:
Dream guy: Darling, we have been together for some time...
Me: Yes?
Dream guy: Would you marry me? *on bended knee presenting diamond ring*
Me: OH GOD! YES YES YES!!! Oh baby, it's beautiful!
Dream guy: *Puts ring on my finger* I'm so glad you like it! It's made out of my grandmother by the way. Grandma, you look over my baby now.
Me: ...
It's like meeting the man of my dreams, and then meeting his beautiful pressurized grandmother.
Humans... joy.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Curse You Fetish Thieves
I seem to have lost my pants somewhere in the gym. It's the second time this have happened. And these are one of my favourite Nike 3/4 tights which cost me RM100+ which I bought after much consideration about over a year ago. Not that someone pinned me down and removed my pants forcefully of course, but apparently I seem to have left them in the shower last week but did not notice the loss until I put away my laundry yesterday night. A call to the gym reception revealed there were no pants of that description in the lost and found. Which can only mean some dishonest sodding thief conveniently claimed it for his own. It makes me wonder what disturbed person would take someone else's intimate belongings, sweat-soaked ones at that. I do believe my underwear was still in them. It's like stealing someone's used tampon and using it...
I mean I can understand if someone was to just take your mp3 player or handphone but soiled pants, shoes, or any article of clothing is just plain disgusting. So whoever took my pants, if you even venture to put it on, washed or otherwise, I curse your dick with an incurable rot which will spread slowly and soon engulf your entire genitalia causing it to fall off in tiny chunks. And that won't be the end, the rot will then spread slowly through your body inside out, causing your insides to decompose. Eventually your body will bloat up but you won't die yet you fetish thief, till your belly explodes in a hail of stinking liquified offal.
I mean I can understand if someone was to just take your mp3 player or handphone but soiled pants, shoes, or any article of clothing is just plain disgusting. So whoever took my pants, if you even venture to put it on, washed or otherwise, I curse your dick with an incurable rot which will spread slowly and soon engulf your entire genitalia causing it to fall off in tiny chunks. And that won't be the end, the rot will then spread slowly through your body inside out, causing your insides to decompose. Eventually your body will bloat up but you won't die yet you fetish thief, till your belly explodes in a hail of stinking liquified offal.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Gorillas in the Mass
Disclaimer: The entry below may contain contents offensive to certain readers. Read at your own discretion
Nickkiest: Let's go to church?
Me: Huh? What? Why all a sudden?
Nickkiest: Dunno? Just feel like going. Come la!
Me: Me? Go to church? Me? The heathen pagan sodomite?
That was exactly my reaction to Nickkiest's suggestion to go for Easter Mass. Don't be misled into thinking that I am one of those guys that used to be a good Catholic boy until the day I was corrupted by homosexual debaucheries. The fact is I was never an avid church goer because I was never a Christian in the first place - hence the heathen pagan part. Though I am not exactly a stranger in church, I never had pleasant memories of my visits. The last time I sat through a Sunday service, I left feeling disgusted at the priest's bigoted and narrow minded preaching. As much as I understood the Catholic Church's stand on homosexual relations, I was kind of flabbergasted when the priest mentioned "mixed marriages are bad". Though I might have misunderstood what he meant by that, it is that kind of clumsy statement that puts people off and throws the whole of Christianity into bad light. I have great respect for Christianity, just like any other religion, just not most of its hopelessly outdated human made ideologies.
Such was the case when Nickkiest led me into an Easter Sunday service last Saturday. The fact that I was not a Christian made me itch. Now I know exactly what the phrase "stood out like a sore thumb" meant. Not that the swarm of Catholics noticed a heathen in their midst, even if he was wearing a pagan symbol around his neck (I have a penchant for ankhs). I was also dealing with the reality that I was cooking underneath my denim jacket on a balmy Saturday evening among the throngs of Easter devotees. Not that I had a choice, because I didn't find it particularly respectful to be exposing too much flesh in a holy place since I was wearing a sleeveless underneath. It kind of left me cursing when I caught sight of a rather pasty flabby lala boy wearing a black tank top. Why me, the heathen even bothered with his dressing I had no idea.
Barely 15 minutes into the service, I was starting to get bored. Forgive me, but even though I am not a Christian I had hoped at least the service would have been inspiring. Unfortunately that wasn't the case. I will spare the details lest I offend my Christian friends. Let's just say I didn't get the divine revelations or cultural sights that I've hoped for. 40 minutes into it, Nickkiest began to have his doubts and regrets about coming. Our whispered criticisms didn't go unnoticed by an elderly woman in front of us who gave me a dirty look. Not that she heard what we said of course but she probably found our conversation unacceptable while the priest was talking. Like she even paid any attention - I could have sworn she dozed off a few times through the readings. Very soon we were devolved into speaking to each other via typed texts on our mobiles. I know, it was very rude behaviour, but we just couldn't help ourselves. Anything would have been less dangerous than nodding off.
Finally we just couldn't stand it anymore, so we left before the service was done - half guilt ridden for our unbecoming behaviour and half glad that we took flight. I had partially hoped that maybe a sudden bolt of lightning would strike me down for my sins of blasphemy. Even that might have been a divine revelation, albeit a painful and deadly one. I had always wanted to see what a Christmas mass is like but last Saturday's experience have kind of left me feeling doubtful of the idea. Lord save us.
Nickkiest: Let's go to church?
Me: Huh? What? Why all a sudden?
Nickkiest: Dunno? Just feel like going. Come la!
Me: Me? Go to church? Me? The heathen pagan sodomite?
That was exactly my reaction to Nickkiest's suggestion to go for Easter Mass. Don't be misled into thinking that I am one of those guys that used to be a good Catholic boy until the day I was corrupted by homosexual debaucheries. The fact is I was never an avid church goer because I was never a Christian in the first place - hence the heathen pagan part. Though I am not exactly a stranger in church, I never had pleasant memories of my visits. The last time I sat through a Sunday service, I left feeling disgusted at the priest's bigoted and narrow minded preaching. As much as I understood the Catholic Church's stand on homosexual relations, I was kind of flabbergasted when the priest mentioned "mixed marriages are bad". Though I might have misunderstood what he meant by that, it is that kind of clumsy statement that puts people off and throws the whole of Christianity into bad light. I have great respect for Christianity, just like any other religion, just not most of its hopelessly outdated human made ideologies.
Such was the case when Nickkiest led me into an Easter Sunday service last Saturday. The fact that I was not a Christian made me itch. Now I know exactly what the phrase "stood out like a sore thumb" meant. Not that the swarm of Catholics noticed a heathen in their midst, even if he was wearing a pagan symbol around his neck (I have a penchant for ankhs). I was also dealing with the reality that I was cooking underneath my denim jacket on a balmy Saturday evening among the throngs of Easter devotees. Not that I had a choice, because I didn't find it particularly respectful to be exposing too much flesh in a holy place since I was wearing a sleeveless underneath. It kind of left me cursing when I caught sight of a rather pasty flabby lala boy wearing a black tank top. Why me, the heathen even bothered with his dressing I had no idea.
Barely 15 minutes into the service, I was starting to get bored. Forgive me, but even though I am not a Christian I had hoped at least the service would have been inspiring. Unfortunately that wasn't the case. I will spare the details lest I offend my Christian friends. Let's just say I didn't get the divine revelations or cultural sights that I've hoped for. 40 minutes into it, Nickkiest began to have his doubts and regrets about coming. Our whispered criticisms didn't go unnoticed by an elderly woman in front of us who gave me a dirty look. Not that she heard what we said of course but she probably found our conversation unacceptable while the priest was talking. Like she even paid any attention - I could have sworn she dozed off a few times through the readings. Very soon we were devolved into speaking to each other via typed texts on our mobiles. I know, it was very rude behaviour, but we just couldn't help ourselves. Anything would have been less dangerous than nodding off.
Finally we just couldn't stand it anymore, so we left before the service was done - half guilt ridden for our unbecoming behaviour and half glad that we took flight. I had partially hoped that maybe a sudden bolt of lightning would strike me down for my sins of blasphemy. Even that might have been a divine revelation, albeit a painful and deadly one. I had always wanted to see what a Christmas mass is like but last Saturday's experience have kind of left me feeling doubtful of the idea. Lord save us.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Blood & Testosterone
That's what I thought would have been a better title for the movie "300", though I am sure the ingenious Malay translation of "300 Pahlawan Berani Mati" or something along that line was very good also. If I had to listen to Gerard Butler yell "SPARTANS!!" or "SPARTA!!" one more time I swear I will develop a rash, in my ear canal.
Yes, after much delaying and failure to procure tickets to this movie, I finally got around to watching it after three weeks since its Malaysian release. Accompanying me also was Sean, a fellow movie enthusiast who had also miraculously missed the early bird bandwagons to catch the much hyped movie. Though I have no choice but to agree that the generous show of muscular male physiques was very... ahem, impressive, the massive overdose of testosterone and male camaraderie was quite gagging. It's enough to make you want to put them on your lap and spank the manliness out of those well formed asses.
Who am I to say anyway, perhaps ancient Sparta was very much as Zack Snyder portrayed it. I have to admit, the whole over-the-top imagery was quite breathtaking (except the Oracle's suspiciously beer-commercial like trance sequence) . Nevermind that it was not 100% historically accurate (when was any movie anyway), so critics, Iranians, Persians, self-appointed-historians and whatevers can put a sock into it because movies are made for entertainment. Get it? EN-TER-TAIN-MENT. It often baffles me as to how world leaders can make an ass out of themselves over a work of fiction when ordinary citizens can just laugh about it in good nature.
Sean and I were having this this little exchange as we were coming out after the movie:
Sean: Sparta doesn't look like a very nice place to be born in, in those times, does it? (referring to their practice of abandoning weak/malformed/defective babies on Mt Taygetos to die).
Me: Oh well, I wasn't exactly born defective, maybe if I was born there I could have had those abs that I so badly wanted by now.
Sean: ...
I think Sean summed up 300 pretty nicely:
"Next time can we just go watch a good old fashion romantic comedy?"
For once, I had to agree. Now I have to suffer a few weeks of insecurity every time I take a look in the mirror. God damn it.
"SPARTAAAAAA!!!!"
Leonidas does his manly thing, and you wonder why their helmets are so thick.
Leonidas does his manly thing, and you wonder why their helmets are so thick.
Yes, after much delaying and failure to procure tickets to this movie, I finally got around to watching it after three weeks since its Malaysian release. Accompanying me also was Sean, a fellow movie enthusiast who had also miraculously missed the early bird bandwagons to catch the much hyped movie. Though I have no choice but to agree that the generous show of muscular male physiques was very... ahem, impressive, the massive overdose of testosterone and male camaraderie was quite gagging. It's enough to make you want to put them on your lap and spank the manliness out of those well formed asses.
"I am beautiful, no matter what you say... words can't bring me down~"
Leonidas does his not so manly thing. Queen Gorgo appears stunned.
Leonidas does his not so manly thing. Queen Gorgo appears stunned.
Who am I to say anyway, perhaps ancient Sparta was very much as Zack Snyder portrayed it. I have to admit, the whole over-the-top imagery was quite breathtaking (except the Oracle's suspiciously beer-commercial like trance sequence) . Nevermind that it was not 100% historically accurate (when was any movie anyway), so critics, Iranians, Persians, self-appointed-historians and whatevers can put a sock into it because movies are made for entertainment. Get it? EN-TER-TAIN-MENT. It often baffles me as to how world leaders can make an ass out of themselves over a work of fiction when ordinary citizens can just laugh about it in good nature.
"All you have to do, is just bend over... I mean, kneel before me..."
How they made hottie Rodrigo Santoro into this over-sized drag queen baffles me.
How they made hottie Rodrigo Santoro into this over-sized drag queen baffles me.
Sean and I were having this this little exchange as we were coming out after the movie:
Sean: Sparta doesn't look like a very nice place to be born in, in those times, does it? (referring to their practice of abandoning weak/malformed/defective babies on Mt Taygetos to die).
Me: Oh well, I wasn't exactly born defective, maybe if I was born there I could have had those abs that I so badly wanted by now.
Sean: ...
I think Sean summed up 300 pretty nicely:
"Next time can we just go watch a good old fashion romantic comedy?"
For once, I had to agree. Now I have to suffer a few weeks of insecurity every time I take a look in the mirror. God damn it.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Monday, April 02, 2007
Wanderlust
I suddenly developed this irresistible urge to travel to places where I have never been before. I want to see things I have never seen before, experience culture which I have never experienced, walk in foreign soil, breathe the different air and Sean will probably rejoice in this, taste the different food. My friends seem to regale tales of their travels all the time and I find myself wondering why I put myself off all the time from doing the same, traveling I mean. I think I can afford it though I am not exactly a very well-to-do person but for some reason I am just afraid to use the money which I had worked so hard for. Ok well, sometimes not so hard. Here are some of the places I hope to visit one day.
I think I get very frustrated sometimes with myself. Those who know me well enough will know I am not exactly a spendthrift. It is a habit I picked up from young. Ever since the day I stepped foot in a kindergarten right up till I was Form 6, I have never received a cent of pocket money. Not that my parents wouldn't give, just that I had never asked for it. I'd only ever asked for money whenever I required to buy something, which gave my parents direct control over what I bought. The things that I bought without my parents knowing, came from the money I saved over years of angpow money from Chinese New Years. Even that, the only things I ever was willing to spend on were books. Bear in my mind that my two elder brothers receive pocket money regularly, for some reason I seem to be excluded from the "payroll".
Which brings me now back to the present. My forced habit of being a miser has somewhat dulled my enthusiasm to spend on entertainment. When I eat, I think about venues that would give me the most by paying less, when I want to travel, I think about the dent it will cause in my accounts. Sometimes I wish I could just tell myself to screw it while I empty my account
Prince Edward Island, Canada
Florence, Italy
Cairo, Egypt
Athens, Greece
Provence, France
I think I get very frustrated sometimes with myself. Those who know me well enough will know I am not exactly a spendthrift. It is a habit I picked up from young. Ever since the day I stepped foot in a kindergarten right up till I was Form 6, I have never received a cent of pocket money. Not that my parents wouldn't give, just that I had never asked for it. I'd only ever asked for money whenever I required to buy something, which gave my parents direct control over what I bought. The things that I bought without my parents knowing, came from the money I saved over years of angpow money from Chinese New Years. Even that, the only things I ever was willing to spend on were books. Bear in my mind that my two elder brothers receive pocket money regularly, for some reason I seem to be excluded from the "payroll".
Which brings me now back to the present. My forced habit of being a miser has somewhat dulled my enthusiasm to spend on entertainment. When I eat, I think about venues that would give me the most by paying less, when I want to travel, I think about the dent it will cause in my accounts. Sometimes I wish I could just tell myself to screw it while I empty my account
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