Sometimes I just look at some of the things I've created..
and I wonder why the hell do I OWN so MUCH?!
This was the cover for our yearbook. At first look you might think it has absolutely no significance to a class graduating but that's the beauty of SpicyART. It looks great but its real beauty lie in interpreting the abstraction of thought.
SpicyART is the design coalition of the larger group known as Lectureboys TM.
We design beautiful and oft dark-natured things because we are jaded about life. We cut ourselves to feel the pain. We also take drugs and dress goth. In the morning, we go to medical school.
Not putting this on lectureboys because I want the first post of that blog to remain there for a while, lol.
restlessness
Just got back from the Manchester Malaysian Society AGM.
They were having their elections today and I popped by cause I had nothing else to do and wanted to just vote for my friends who were running for the sports rep positions.
So incidentally, I was listening to all of the candidates make their little speeches and some of them were just utmost suprising.
Suprisingly poor at making public speeches that is.
I mean, if you're going to run for the Presidential post, at least have the decency to speak properly. Vocalise in a way that people can actually understand instead of being littered with little nuggets of "erm...", "ar...", "liddat..." in your speech.
And imagine if the AGM had a Manchester University advisor sitting in to view the whole election. What would he/she think? That Malaysians can't half-speak a sentence without losing grammar? Or we're full of incapable individuals?
I believe that a leader needs to know how to talk. Truthfully, I'll rather vote for someone who can make a speech RATHER THAN someone who can work twice harder but can't talk in public for his mom's worth.
A long time ago, I was watching some random speech of Tony Blair on TV. And when he made his speech, I just felt like following him into the tides of battle under the banner of Great Britain. Even though I'm Malaysian. And he wasn't even making a speech about war, just probably on tax refunds and benefits. But that just tells you what the allure of a leader should be about.
And I guess that all I'm trying to say is, - charisma is a very important tool, wherever you are. It gets you to places, my dear friend.
ANYWAY, just had to vent my disappointment. Bye.
schizos are misunderstood
We speak to ourselves all the time.
At work at play little monologues run through our fleet inner minds.
Most people call it Thinking but in honest truth, it is no more than a forum between invisible, undefined, cognitions that venues in the labyrinth of, dare I say it, your soul.
Every Thought begins with a question,
" Shall I have this cupcake?
and I answering to myself, No, you shan't. For you will gain that extra pound.
Right you are, and I won't. "
and results in an answer.
No one has ever dissected this process we call Thought because for one, it moves too fast. We can't be bothered to slow down what we need quick - less than a snap of an instant.
Even the instinctive action of reading the next word following the word this, would have prompted you to ask at the forum that be,
" Shall I read the next word?
Yes you shall because the first word makes no sense without the second makes no sense without the third and the sentence is naught without all the words.
Fine, I shall read it. "
Old ladies tell us not to fix what isn't broken but I say rip it all apart so we can reverse engineer to build a bigger, better one. And aptly quoting Hugh Jackman from The Prestige - "MAN's reach exceeds his imagination!"
We are never truly exiled to loneliness if we are alone. For in being alone, we have ourselves to speak to.
So what happens when we lose our mind? Imagine that we were to strip ourselves of the quintessence of being individual - bereft of the ability to converse with our most sincere companion. To exist and yet still be nil.
We all need someone to speak to. And I am going crazy.
I am very worried part 2.
CMing: Omg, guys, what about the pot?(dracula theme plays in the background). I spotted a dead housefly in it. Apparently the fly thought it was heaven and promptly drowned himself in our porridge.
Jaycen: Yeah, when I last looked inside guess what I saw? A frog.
CMing: A frog? Wth.
Jaycen: Yes we've just officially created a new species of toad. From nothing except porridge and chicken... and some carrots.
CMing: Toad? I thought you said frog.
Jaycen: Whatever, it's so ugly I can't tell the difference. Just look inside, all kinds of things are growing. ANd the smell is horrible.
Raymond: ... *mumbles* bunch of kids *mumbles*
CMing: Ok, let's throw it away. Pot and all, no one's going to wash it because it has gone past the point of no return. GG.
Raymond: ...
If we do create a frog, we shall name it Scaphiopus Noobius. AFter us.
The tale of a brolley.
It was raining pretty heavily so Ray decided to get an umbrella. In Primark of course.
There were 2 umbrellas up for sale. A £2.50 big one which is not compactible. And a £4.00 smaller one which is foldable and stuff and is practically small enough to carry in your bag.
Ray, being a Cina-man, decided to buy the £2.50 because not only is it cheaper, but it's bigger therefore the value of pounds per fabric would be less making it a "better" deal.
But, I pointed out to him that since it's not compactible, he might find it a hassle when he has to carry it around going into hospital and clinics and stuff. But he said, "Oh well, I would rather put the burden on something that doesn't require money, aka my own convenience."
So he bought the £2.50 umbrella and off we went into Riley's. Now, because it wasn't foldable, he had to leave it by the side.
When we finished and went off to Subway for dinner, as you would have guessed it already, he forgot the umbrella. And went he went back to Riley's to look for it, it was no longer there to be found.
And therefore paid £2.50 for shade from the rain for 5 minutes.
Now the point is, if he had bought the £4.00 more practical umbrella, he would have kept it in his bag and therefore not have lost it.
For if it rains tomorrow and he buys the similar umbrella, that would equal him paying £5.00 for one umbrella. But if he buys the £4.00 umbrella this time around, that would mean £6.50 for an umbrella!
Moral of the story is, if you want to save money and replace it with impracticality, then you better don't be forgetful.
LoL, action drama in Shah Alam.
Click on to his blog to find out more.
Anyway, off to Vietnam for a couple of days. Woohoo. A complete family trip that includes all of us! I can't see why my parents are so emo lol seeing as how we just had one over last xmas. Hehe.
O well, I guess parents will be parents and children will be children.
Met up with some Manchester Uni batchmates on thursday and it was fun bringing a 7 feet 4 friend around to intimidate short locals. Raymond likes to ffk. He's the new ffk king. And in case you were thinking about it, no, ffk does not mean f***.
But. That just might be another story for another day.
Haha. My brother's story is funny lol.
In case you didn't know, I'm back in Malaysia!
And I've been filling up my time doing things I love doing. And things I love doing are definately things parents do not want to hear me doing.
Lots of stuff have taken place since my last blog.
England lost to Portugal. Again. At penalties. Rooney. Ronaldo. Bloody Gerrard.
Zidane.
Whose sole two syllable name is fitting enough to own a sentence all by its own.
I'm right now in Grace's house at 4.38AM. Blogging because I cannot sleep. Why? Because I'm very nocturnal. I come alive at night. And I sleep best when the sun is at its midday peak. Yes, I really need to get accustomed to the normal way of life soon before the summer ends and I get owned in school. Which lends itself to the thought: should I even call it school anymore? O'well.
Speaking of Grace, we're actually on a road trip to Penang with culinary gratification as our mission statement. Grace believes that if she were to set a rendezvous time to meet, I would MOST DEFINATELY be tardy.
In my defense, I..... I.... nvm.
I'm feeling a weird sensation right now. I think it's nostalgia but the problem is, I'm confused because I cannot differentiate nostalgia from homesickness from depression from loneliness.
But I can't be lonely and I can't be homesick(or can I?) and I don't think I'm depressed. LOL. O'well.
Maybe I'm just sad that Grace's PC does not have WoW installed. Sigh.
O well asam laksa, char kuey teow and hokkien mee penang style, here I COME BEATCHES.
Women and the world cup.
Ok this is a true story told as it stands.
Lena&Esther: So who's playing on tv tomorrow?
WL: England will be fighting Trinidad and Tobago...
Lena: Oo... ok..
(five minutes of pondering)
Lena: Hmm... that is kind of unfair for England eh? Won't they be tired?
WL: Huh, whatcha mean?
Lena: Well, they have to play Trinidad and then they have to play Tobago right after that!
(silence.... a cricket makes a noise)
WL: BWAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA.
Lena: What? WHAT? WHAT??
(Lena then calls me up and tells the story)
CM: BWAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHA.
(CM decides to induce another joke)
CM: Well, actually England is so good that they're going to put 2 countries against them at the same time. Trinidad AND Tobago. So there's going to be 22 against 11 at the same time.
(more pondering)
Lena: OHHH.. Ok.... 22 v 11? Cheh, then it isn't that funny anymore... Because if it were England taking turns to play Trinidad and THEN Tobago, then it would be funny. BUt if it's 2 countries on 1 at the same time... you guys shouldn't be laughing at me.
(the same cricket dat made the earlier noise choked)
the whole world: BWAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH.
did you guys know?
that we have a lectureboys.com?
well, now you do. Anyway, SK wants to go to Redang. People... reply him before he goes lonely and kills himself out of self-pity because no one's talking to him.
No one else is blogging.
So I'm going to.
Have you ever seen a 10ft pole? Imagine one right now, as flexible as a pole vault, as long as... well ten feet. Now curl some barb wire on to one of its edges, and sprinkle some tetani-infested rust on its end. Then stick it into my back passage. Without lubricant.
That's how screwed I am. I hate osces.
IN other more positive news, the world cup is coming! Peter Crouch for top goalscorer! Wahhoooo!
This will be a great summer. Let's worry about everything else only after summer has ended. Procrastination is a cruel addiction, my dear comrades. Fall not into its grasp, however sweet the nectar it beholds. Let me be the sacrificial lamb for who all else will see that no good shall befall he who dare take the road less travelled. Traverse not pass second chances into a vast undergrowth of bad decision-making and lost hope.
Speaking of which, I need a nap.
Irritable bowel sydrome.
is a bitch.
Would you rather be constipated your whole life, or have diarrhoea spasms every hour?
Such a dilemma eludes me, and I must admit that I do not have an answer to that question.
For when choosing the lesser of two evils, what do we do when our one option is as dire as the other? We falter and we fail and we do not make a choice.
Fear rules us all and it clouds our judgment, such is the toll of being mortal.
But enough inane banter, here's a link to what Charlene did on her Sunday.
So David and Shirley and Pok Chien came down to have a wee look at Manchester last weekend, and it was nice having deja vu(s) of living in Vista Apartments back in KL. In case you didn't know, that couple(not David and Pok Chien, David and Shirley!) were my housemates back in the good ol' times in the oft-haunted B-14-7.
We had a smashing time whenever we met each other once a month to settle the rent. And the occasional bonus when David would come out to fill his water bottle.
There we would chat about plumbing conditions and how hot the weather was.
Speaking of housemates, I used to have another one named Wei Jin who, and I always dread complimenting him lest it gets to his head, is a very interesting character. He has an awkward sense of humour but I find him entertaining so I hung out with him often. That is until one day, he got way distracted by certain pheromones and soon it was I becoming the 5th wheel.
I recently starting speaking again to Yih Pin who's an old friend all the way back from high school. THinking of how far we've not seen each other made me realise how old I was. I'm 21! CCb, and I've yet to complete anything on that death-like-a-frog list you see on the left.
Btw, OSCEs are coming soon and after that it'll be a month of SSC and then home sweet Malaysian home! Sometimes it's only when we're so far away from home that we learn to appreciate it.
Pictures coming up soon!
My pet peeves.
Hi, it's been so long since I've last wrote anything useful here. And when I say useful, I mean something personal about me that you're probably dying to know, you crazy fan you.
So I'm going to list out a whole sheet of my pet peeves so you know never to, in ANY situation, present such a peeve to my face, for I will die writhing in a pool of blood after I've dug out my own eyes.
For the uninitiated, pet peeves are basically stuff which gets on your edge and irritates you to no end. Due to my supplementary obsessive compulsive disorder, they sometimes co-interact and I go crazy.
Dirty Hands
Germs are everywhere and if there's a place they're at right now, it's probably at my hands. If somebody comes up to me with unwashed hands, I can't stand to touch them. I start hyperventilating until every inch of skin has been scrubbed clean. So you can imagine the hassle when I cook, because after peeling the garlic, I wash my hands, and then I'll peel one garlic, and I'll wash my hands and I'll peel another and I'll wash my hands and when I start chopping them I'll make sure my hands are washed anew. And then I'll throw the garlic skin away and I'll wash it again. It GETS SO CRAZY, IT DOES.
Dirty Utensils
Even if it's all clean and dry, I'll have to wash the spoons and the forks again before I use them, simply because if the spoon is just lying there doing nothing, it MOST probably is dirty. BACTERIA galore!
Unflushed toilets
The worst are those with toilet paper still stuffing up the bowl. And for some uncomprehensible reason, my body starts OCD-ing and I start swallowing my own saliva. Until the toilet is flushed clean, I'll be drinking my own amylase.
Body Odours
If it's on another person, I walk away. If it's on me, my whole day will be ruined like a man on dragons throwing horses at maggots.
Dirty Carpets
Absolutely... cannot... step... on... it.
Teletubbies
HATE. HATE. FIRE. BLOOD. KNIVES AND PITCHFORKS.
The lingering smell of cockroaches
Yes they do have a smell and yes it does linger. And when you do smell it one day, know that it burns my soul up to no end.
People who ask me "What's that?" when I give them a link to view something.
JUST CLICK ON IT DAMN IT
People who nudge me back on MSN after I've nudged them
Me first, sucker.
Friends who don't add me on friendster
You're my friend damn it, make the first move!
Good looking people who think they're ugly, and ugly people who think they're good looking
Faggots.
Old people
Too little movement.
Young children
Too much movement.
Talking to people who cannot understand me
If somebody cannot understand my accent, my body goes haywire and I start scratching myself. I scratch so hard till it bleeds. And when it bleeds, the pain will diminish my anguish. Oh, the pain. The pain. I welcome it like a mother's teat to her babe.
Omg, I can put so much more on the list now that I'm rejogging my thoughts. Bloody hell, I'm getting pissed just thinking about it. Go away.
I'm a noob.
Ok, so just the other day I saw Sun JiHai in Trafford Centre and I was like, woah should I go and take a picture with him? I mean he starts for Manchester CITY like wow! BUt I chickened out and regretted thereafter.
So anyway, I bumped into Gary Neville! OMGZ X10000.
The four of us were heading into the MAS airlines office building when I spotted this man who looked extremely familiar holding open the door for us. And then I saw his angry face, Gary Neville! I squeamishly prodded Raymond and pointed at Gary(we're on a first name basis now), and he in turn became squeamish. So like little teenage girls seeing the BackstreetBoys for the first time, we froze.
For a good 20 seconds. In which Gary was still lingering around, probably waiting for his driver. We should have just ran up to him and shook his hand, take a photo or something.(imagine it being on Friendster photos!) But we didn't. We froze like lambs to a slaughter.
And thus I solemnly swear that if I ever meet a Man U player again, I'll definately do something this time. Even if it's Phil Bardsley.
Oh, Charlene and Yvinne were with us too. But they weren't sure what was happening. Women.
Lost in translation
Probably not translation per se but aren't we all lovely at making appropriate puns.
Foremost as a headlight to this blog, it is important that one should know a little of the barrier between cultures, in particular the area bridged by the usage of a language and the proper application of its idiosyncrasies.
Imagine a Malaysian auntie who speaks Manglish, (MAlaysianeNGLISH), and a British auntie who speaks English (probably accented with some heavy Mancunian; "Are you all right there?!"). They both can communicate if they wanted to. For example if the British lady, let's name her Mrs. Jones, wish to purchase a durian from the auntie, who we shall name Ah Wong Tai, she can just about convey her intentions using words that both of them understand and the durian may then be purchased.
Sure, both cultures can liase (and probably haggle) when they meet but can they develop a rapport using a tongue that looks the same but waggles in a different way?
And I'm not just talking about the accent, because everybody has one("CAN YOU TELL ME WHERE THE PAINT IS?" <--Russell Peters inside joke.) but take into account the idiosyncrasies of their individual verbal communication. The expressions, the facets, the flavour of how we speak, all are hindrances to rapport building.
IT WAS ALL THE TOWER OF BABEL's FAULT!
In laymen terms, we have different wavelengths. So how do we work this conundrum out? In another world perhaps, I would be more than happy to not do anything about it. But in this world, I plan to have a career in a country not my own. And thus I believe that I have a little responsibility at least to adapt myself to another man's house when I enter it.
However. I am finding it difficult to do so, especially when it is oft reciprocated negatively. So I'll say screw it and good night. Talk to you later TTYL.
Malaysia boleh FTW.
And I'm still in Blackburn, where the winds blow strongly and make howling noises.
Photography with the P&S.
Charlene, Ray, and Yvinne's Head.
A picture of Yvinne the divine may I dine with you after nine if that would be fine. The old one was removed for no reasons whatsoever.
My favourite coin is the english 2 pounds. It's heavy, it's bordered with a golden rim, it looks good, and it's valuable. I feel rich just carrying it around. And that is a plate where you put your tips on after you finish your meal. And there, on top of the plate where you put your tips on after you finish your meal, are two two pounds coins.
ZOMG, 2006 is here.
Have I been in Manchester for so long? There are so many things I've done that I want to share about on my blog but once the moment is gone in a few hours time, all I have left is a diminished inclination to actually write anything at all. It's like I'm all about living for the moment these days. And who can fault me for that?
After all, the big 21 just hit me last monday. 21, ya know, it's like 4 years away from being 25. Which is in turn like 5 years away from being 30. Like, omgz!
I need to grow up but I love being a kid! I love sharing my childish humour with the people around me, irregardless of whether or not they find it truly entertaining. Sometimes when everyone around us is too serious, we need a little bit of mischief to spice up an otherwise gloom social life. AND that's my responsibility, it's a difficult job but I'm ever ready to sacrifice myself for the greater good.
Anyway, enough of that. Here are some pictures because too many words are boring.
Raymond cooked this chicken. He's not bad.
Siu Ngap in Chinatown. We eat this very often.
Happy birthday to me. A cake with jelly!
The legendary Mona Lisa. Oooo. I don't mean any offence but I think she looks slightly bimbotic.
My sister is a self-photo-taking-nut.
Wigan vs Arsenal, score: (2:3)
Some ppl think that they're damn gaya.
My friends love me. And that's not even all of them. I guess being cute and charming has its perks.
