Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Christmas Gifts

i want to buy new sports shoes.

i will buy for you, then i don't have to think what to give you for christmas.

how about you? what do you want me to give you for christmas?

i want shoes too! i want the adidas adventure shoes that we saw in ipoh.

can't, too expensive. i already have idea what to give you -- a gift set from l'occitane.


went to pavillion
first stop l'occitane


i will choose for you. this one is good.

you're so cheapo.

next went to the adidas shop

you're taking ages to decide. i think the sales assistant is so feed-up with you already, asking her to take this and that.

you have to get it wrap nicely.

what? what's the point? you already know what it is.

it won't feel a gift if it's not wrap. i want with ribbon.

you are so fussy.


haizz, you got a nice pair of shoes and i have a shampoo gift set..

i will treat you for dinner and movie. let's go for japanese buffet and watch movie later, ok?


(using handphone cam)

after this, i will not touch japanese food for the next few weeks... :)

bloke so happy

this is mine :(

a couple of days later

a friend told me shoes is not good as gifts. so i have to pay you for it. here...

what? two ringit! you can't even buy flip-flops with that. you're so silly. hahaha.

Thursday, December 18, 2008


he thinks he's shy... j'adore pink... hmmm




The Sea called--I lay on the rocks and said:
"I am come."
She mocked and showed her teeth,
Stretching out her long green arms.
"Go away!" she thundered.
"Then tell me what I am to do," I begged.
"If I leave you, you will not be silent,
But cry my name in the cities
And wistfully entreat me in the plains and forests;
All else I forsake to come to you--what must I do?"
"Never have I uttered your name," snarled the Sea.
"There is no more of me in your body
Than the little salt tears you are frightened of shedding.
What can you know of my love on your brown rock
Come closer."

Sea -- Katherine Mansfield

Thursday, December 11, 2008

The Farmhouse

'Would you like to join me and grandpa this weekend?' My older brother asked.
‘No. it’s going to be very boring there.’ I replied.
Our grandpa has this remote farmhouse. On most weekends, he will go there alone and spend his time reading, plant trees, sort of like living a cowboy lifestyle. I think it was his way of escaping the world and just be with himself. Sometimes my brother likes to join him. I was probably eight to nine years old then and bro was two years older. It was one of those long school breaks, I and my cousins were having fun time playing all day long.
‘You know there’s a binoculars there. You can have it, if you want.’ Bro dangling a bait.
‘Really? How does it look like?’, I was very excited.
‘Its very nice. Grandpa has a lot of books there too.’ My brother added.
‘Can you bring it back for me?’
‘No, you have to get it yourself’.
Without hesitation, I said ‘I want to go there too!’ All I wanted was to have the binoculars.
So Friday afternoon came, my uncle sent grandpa, big bro and me tagging along to the dropped off point. Grandpa’s farmhouse is inaccessible by car so we have to walk for an hour to reach there passing through mountains and valleys.
The farmhouse was situated in the hillside surrounded by trees and with a river nearby with no electricity. There were no neighbors on sight and all I can hear were the ripples of the water and the chirpings of the birds and insects.
Once we reached there, the first thing I asked was, ‘Where’s the binoculars?’
And big bro took it from one corner and handed it to me.

it looks very similar to this...

There I was staring at a very old metallic binoculars with rust already consuming some parts. I was very excited and tried it outside. I was fascinated by the thing and never was a hint of disappointment. But it was probably one of my bro’s tricks that he always did on me back then.
After all my excitement has worn off, I can’t help thinking about my cousins which I reckon were having a good time while I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, there were really many books, those from Reader’s Digest like animal kingdom, the 2nd world war... which occupied my time.
My grandpa rarely talked during the trip and me and my bro tried not to disturb him. I remember, it was really very very cold at night. We stayed for two days and two nights but I felt as if we were there for a year. I swear not to join them again.
Many years later, grandpa passed away. Grandma wanted to visit the place where the farmhouse was located. I and some of my cousins, we were all grown-up by now, went with her. When he was too old to walk long distance, grandpa stopped going to the farmhouse and it was left neglected.
We saw the farmhouse was already crumbling. Looking around inside one of the rooms, I saw scribbled in the wall a handwriting by a kid, a name with the date underneath. It's my name that I wrote and the date when I first came there when I was a little boy. Good ol' memories came back as if it was only yesterday. I can still remember the excitement, the boredom... and the night when I was too scared to go to the kitchen alone, I washed may hands into a pail of water which I found out the next morning was where grandpa peed at night (the toilet was outside the house).
And I felt a sense of gratitude that I did that trip many years ago....

Tuesday, December 9, 2008


to the caves

the gateway to ipoh





Monday, December 8, 2008

Poem #3

fortune-teller and beggars

A fortune-teller
wearing a red skirt
and red lipstick,
sitting on a red plastic stool
in front of a red plastic stool
where the cards is set.
At the bridge
where the rushing crowd
crosses over a river
where the languid filth floats.
She at the other end,
beggars at the other end;
a legless man performing the pommel horse,
a Madonna and child doing a Pieta scene,
a grimy man with a hollow grin.
She who is in the business of guessing,
others hoping for a sure meal.
Anxious souls stopped by at her
to take a peek at fate,
shunning the beggars’ stares,
afraid they may see
what the fortune-teller
can’t tell.

i always see her at the bridge...

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Woods Bio Marche

nurturing the earth

our favorite vegetarian restaurant... located in bukit bintang

spaghetti bolognese.... function: de-stress

fried brown rice with tumeric.... function: anti-oxidant

organic bubur cha cha.... function: skin food

Monday, December 1, 2008

Into The Movies

let's go watch a movie.

okay, lets check out if there's anything nice showing now.

while queuing up

let's watch quarantine.

we should watch twilight. quarantine is something like the blair witch project. it's a terrible movie and it's not even scary.

what's twilight is all about?

i think it's based on a vampire novel for teens.

i prefer quarantine.

i want twilight.

let's watch bolt or madagascar then.

(compromise is not always about both parties ending up happy. it could either be one is happy, the other one disappointed or both are disappointed)

i think we stick to quarantine. i bet there's not many people going to watch it, we can get good seats.

light's on indicating cinema 12 is now open for the 9:10pm show

the attendant saw the plastic bag i carried and he won't allow us to bring it inside. on our way to pavillion, we passed by isetan and saw some tempting biscuits so we bought some.

we told the attendant: we are not going to eat them inside. see, we bought a box of your popcorn and drinks.

he's doing his job, so no choice we leave behind the plastic bag and collect it back later.


right after he said 'its already 9:30 why they haven't started yet', the lights went off...

there's this girl, she's the reporter for something like 'night shift' and tonight she's covering the fire department. 10mins through the movie i have already concluded it would be a disaster.

trying to add some extra minutes to the movie, she went inside the hall meeting the firemen, into the various sections, the shower room where a fireman is taking shower in a closed cubicle, huh? aren't they suppose to use a communal shower where they go spank each others dripping butts with towels? into the sports room where they play handball (nope, they did not tug each others balls). and of course the sliding pole (which they got the idea from watching too much pole-dancing in the girlie bar across the street.. hah..).. and then the alarm sets off. time for some action. well, the reporter and her cameraman were supposed to tag along with this team of 2 firemen for the night. cameraman said: no i can't slide down with this camera. okay, lets use the stairs, said the reporter...

when they arrived in the scene, 2 cops were already there, waiting for the camera, i mean the firemen to open up the door (how convenient) in one of the apartments in the building where the strange noises coming from.

the firemen forcibly open the door (cops are not allowed to do that) and there we see a glimpse of what's going to be the movie all about. standing in the middle of the dimly-lit room was karolina kurkova in sexy lingerie, straight from victoria's secret runway show, purring. Nah, it was a disheveled auntie in her soiled nightgown, very pale with mouth frothing, groaning. 2 cops, 2 firemen, the landlord and the reporter plus her stalker cameraman were all standing there looking at the auntie, admiring. 'what's wrong with her?", said one of the characters. oh c'mmon, as if you haven't been to a horror movie, she's a nympho sexually deprived for the past 10 years, duh!... and then she suddenly attacked and bit one of the cops in the neck. in the neck! see i told you.

seating in my left is a guy with his girlfriend. he's got an awful breath that has lent a complete experience to the movie, the odour part. love indeed is handicapped, totally handicapped, it is blind as what they always say (not sure of that part its dark in there), but it certainly has no sense of smell. the love-dazed lady was dearly clutching tight the arm of her prince charming that emitted dragon-breath.

i have to position myself to escape my seatmate's breath, that my left eye was focused on the screen while my right was torn between the movie and buddy. (okay, i have to admit i was really trying not to look directly into the screen.) and there i saw buddy clutching the box of popcorn in his chest while covering his mouth with his right hand. hey, act like a dude not a chick.

i grabbed the popcorn from buddy, who reluctantly let it go. while the rabid people with vanilla slurpees dripping from their mouths were busy chasing their dinner, my fingers were frantically groping for the last pieces of popcorn at the bottom of the box. darn, buddy ate everything. i have to content myself with the un-popped corns which was like eating tiny stones, but it's good because it somehow reduced my concentration on the movie while trying to crack them open in my mouth.

the filmmakers must have decided 'okay forget about logic and reasons, let's scare the hell them moviegoers out of their wits.' and i think they have succeeded. luckily, my loud unmanly 'ahhhh!!' were drowned by the shrieks from all the other ladies in the house....

Friday, November 28, 2008

Bad People

the call

hello. i have something to tell you.

what is that?

i was robbed last night.

what? you're kidding me.

no. and they punched me too.

where did it happen? what time?

last night around 1am. after reaching the house, when i came out from the car to open the gate, 4 guys suddenly appeared. they tried to force me back to my car.

that's so scary. why came home so late?! didn't i tell tell you last night not to stay out so late?! you never listen. are you okay? what did they took from you?

my wallet, 2 handphones and... my car. luckily i managed to run away. one guy get hold of my singlet, the white coloured one that you gave me, the quality is so lousy. it was torn off so easily. i run and run half naked.


i got so many bruises. i squeezed myself into the drainage and hide there. i came out after awhile and jumped into the gate in one of the houses here and asked for help. i was so scared but the auntie won't let me in. she called the cops.

oh so bad. did you see a doctor already?

yes, nothing serious just bruises.

anything you want me to do?

no. i'll see you this weekend, okay?


i'll call you back later.

okay, let me know if there's anything you need.

how can they do this to him?! he is harmless!
motherfuckers! bastards! scums of the earth!!!

it was one of those moments when i wish i have superpowers like peter petrelli. no, like sylar, i'm gonna tracked them down those assholes, cut their heads half and scatter their brains around...

its a package: the superpowers come with this looks...

no, i will be jessica (hmmm... am not sure if that's a good idea... they will certainly wet their pants off, either because they are petrified or because they will be laughing like hyenas, when they see me in drag...

jessica in disguise.. bad boys, bad boys what's you gonna do if i come for you...

those motherfuckers.. i'm gonna gorge their eyes, chop off their hands and feet and pull out their tongues. but i will let them live, make them suffer for the rest of their miserable lives.
(i think i've watched too much heroes)

the world is full of bad people.......

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Poem #2

strange noises inside

The hoarse creaky voice
calling names of long departed folks.
Conversations with the unseen,
her eyes can only see black.

Complaining of strange loud noises,
perhaps the echo of the clink of the past
become louder as the trees grows taller,
her ears can only hear whispers.

Mumbling to the silent god,
asking for the trickle of days.
Is it the allure of the flowers or
the fear of what’s lurking on the other side
that nudges her to plead?
She’s eighty-five.

Then god must have decided enough,
the unseen guests ready to depart,
the sounds have faded at last
and the flames of the burning candles
in her room dance
in an eerie hush.

I once stayed in a house and there's this very old lady (the landlord's mom), she can't hear and see much. she's always praying and we can hear her talking inside her room to people whom, one of her grandchildren that takes care of her said, were all long dead....

Monday, November 24, 2008

A Boy's Life

I met a boy. It was during one of those school breaks when I went back to my hometown to spend the holidays. A polite, goodlooking boy who's talking with an American accent, he was in our house when I arrived home. He always hang out in our house. He was my sister's friend, they were both fifteen. He grew up in the US. He and his siblings came back to our hometown to stay for awhile. Except for casual chats, I would usually just leave them alone. End of the break, went back to the university and that was the last time I saw of him.

It's one of those lazy afternoon, when I stumbled upon a website put up by some of my townfolks. In the forum, there was this lady who is pouring her heart out, about his son, about how good he was, a mother reminiscing. A mother trying to hold on to the memories that will always be the comfort for the rest of her life. It is her son's 10th year death anniversary. Then I realized her son's name is very familiar. It was the boy who was always at our our house many years ago. And I felt a cold chill, a feeling of sadness, I didn't know the boy has passed away after all these years.

After staying for a year in our hometown, he and his siblings went back to the US. Just a few days later, he met an accident. A speeding van hit him while crossing the street, he was killed in an instant. When everything seems so full of promise, a boy's life was taken away. Death comes sometimes when you least expected it. In my mind, he will always be the smiling boy I met many years ago and he will remain forever be that boy.

"Because I could not stop for Death

He kindly stopped for me

The Carriage held but just Ourselves

And Immortality." - Emily Dickinson

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Poem #1

the world according to a carp*

one lunchbreak i just feel the urge to write something and came up with below, the first poem i've ever written.. :-D

i swim round and round,
the water full of slime.
in a hole dug in the ground
with moss as green as lime.

words won't form in my mouth,
with eyes that will not blink.
i just spit bubbles in my spout,
and water i constantly drink.

i should'nt end up in the frying pan
because im not fit for lunch.
but to brighten my master's pond
and for kids to gawk and glance.

if i jump up in the air,
would i grow wings and soar?
if i crawl to the earth,
would i grow lungs and roar?

do all creatures live like me,
are they contented with their lot,
confined in a place they'd rather not be,
swimming until its time to rot?
*title ripped-off from John Irving's novel The World According to Garp, which i read back in highschool :)

the house of pleasure

the rude awakening

ahh, ahh, ahh, a lady's loud moans of ecstacy, the creaking of the bed being abused and the faint chok chok chok sounds coming from the adjacent room awaken us in an early sunday morning.

last night
after making the rounds looking for a hotel to stay the night, we finally found a room in a cheap decrepit hotel that has seen better days.

this room looks dirty, i'm not sure if i wanna sleep in that bed.

there's no other choice, we are lucky to have this.

okay, just for 1 night.


we were staring at each other for sometime trying to figure what's the noise all about.

they are fucking.

see, this hotel is meant to find prostitutes. remember the guy last night trying to be friendly to us, he's a pimp.

he thought we were interested for girls....

Wednesday, November 12, 2008


best friend

i wanna have a dog.

yeah, i want too. i want a pug like frank in men in black.


after countless visits to petshops, called up breeders.... no pug puppy. some told us their dogs haven't made babies yet...

finally, at a petshop in jb...


hey look! a pug puppy. so cute!

lady shopkeeper said: there were three of them. his brother and sister were just taken a couple of days ago.

we want him!


so what do we wanna call this cute little fella?


axton and the magic green ball

axton and the giant green crododile


getting chummy with the wonderful auntie who helps take care of axton

i'm scared


fat boy sleep

Saturday, November 8, 2008


at the temple

let the monk tell your fortune.

nope, i prefer not to be influenced by that. if he tell me nice things, it will just give me false hopes. if he say bad things, i will be concerned unnecessarily.


he gave me numbers to buy. he said a lot of people already won and they usually come back to say thanks.

what are the nos.?

i can't tell u.

the night after

the monk lied to me!

did he tell you when this nos. will come out? it will probably hit if you buy that non-stop for the next fifty years.....

godzilla visited the temple too

the writings on the wall