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    Thursday, December 29, 2005

    Noticed how things are just not moving this year? I believe I have figured out why society and the economy is in such a funk. It's all those TV series that are on DVD box sets!

    Lost. 24. Desperate Housewives. CSI. CSI: NY. CSI: Miami. Friends. Stargate. Buffy. Star Trek.

    Anyone of these and you'd be giving that "once-you-start-you-can't-stop-and-you'd-be-watching-the-entire-season -in-one-sitting-and-you-will-only-stop-when-the-sun-comes-up-and-
    the-birds-start-chirping" line explaining yourself at parties.

    And if its a work day, then you'd watch until five in the morning and stop only when you shock yourself by realising just how many hours of sleep you will get before you have to wake up for work. You know that thing we do....we start counting how many hours of sleep we will have just to console ourselves.

    Just two more seasons of Star Trek Voyager and I can get on with my life.

    Monday, December 26, 2005

    I finally went out and got an oven (which I am quite sure I will use three times a year). Jackie and I decided to make pizza.


    See this here? It is possibly the first real bacon pizza in Malaysia. Screw beef bacon. Bacon, as God intended, should be meat yanked off the bones of a pig, not a cow. Unlike beef bacon, real bacon kills you a lot faster.

    Friday, December 23, 2005

    RM700.

    40GB. 4th-Generation iPod. White earbuds. USB2 sync cable. A box of my love and joy.

    Brand new from Apple as a replacement unit for my previous iPod.
    (Dock in the picture is not included.)

    Email audimok98(at)yahoo.com
    It's that time of the year again where we start conversations with "Gosh...can you believe it's December already? The year is almost over. Where did the year go?"

    Yes it is December already. You should have seen it coming in November. And you saw November coming in October.

    Then comes the other set of questions: "What are you doing for Christmas" followed by "Doing anything for New Year's eve?"

    To which I will get on my soapbox.

    Marina: What are you doing for Christmas?
    Me: Nothing. I am not Christian.
    Marina: Well, you don't have to be Christian to celebrate Christmas.
    Me: Yes you do. Celebrating Christmas is celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ. If you do not believe in Jesus, Christmas wouldn't make sense. You'd be just celebrating a regular day.
    Marina: But you don't have to be Christian to enjoy the festivities.
    Me: No you don't, which means you are not really celebrating Christmas. You are celebrating the holidays.
    Marina: Oh whatever. I just love Christmas. I love the mood, the decorations, the songs. And I love setting up the Christmas tree.
    Me: I see. You love the Hollywood Christmas. I am pretty sure you are trying to make it snow in your living room too, aren't you? What's your religion?
    Marina: I'm Buddhist.

    Fvcking idiot.
    I've noticed the increasing number of traffic lights in the Klang Valley that have blinking green lights just before it goes to yellow. Say it's green. After a while, it starts blinking for about five seconds or so, then it goes to yellow for another few seconds, then red.

    Yellow and red, I understand. Yellow means slow down and prepare to stop. Red means stop. But what's with the blinking green? Slow down and prepare to slow down and prepare to stop? Or is it some secret code to tell us there is a cop with questionable ethics on the other side of the lights preparing to accept a bribe if you run a red light? Or is it yet another thing to make life complicated?

    I must have missed a meeting.

    Sunday, December 18, 2005

    So I am going about my business and I meet this guy who is a private security guard. More like a bodyguard. Big burly man who wears tight little black T-shirts with the word SECURITY on the back.

    Sadly, he has no thumbs. NO THUMBS. The man has eight fingers and NO THUMBS. When his homies want to high-five him, he could have to use both hands in order to get it up to five. He will not be able to give a thumbs-up to a good movie.

    The lost his thumbs when he got into this fight. Someone swung this rod at him. He grabbed the rod with both his hands. The only thing was, the rod was a really sharp sword. As he held on, his thumb fell off.

    And that's how he ended up with eight fingers and no thumbs. Now that's a tragedy.

    Sunday, December 04, 2005

    Today I came closer to my fellow countrymen with I bribed a cop for the second this year. This time it was for being on the phone without a hand-free kit while driving. This one was less pleasant but he was straight to the point. He give me a verbal rate card of traffic offences and it's corresponding charges should I not want to have a ticket.
    • Using the phone without a hands-free kit while driving: RM30
    • Illegal U-turn, passing a double line: RM50
    • Speeding within city limits: RM50-RM100
    • Expired driver's license or expired road tax: RM100 or 80% of the cash in your wallet, whichever greater.
    All prices are negotiable. You might be able to get more slack if you are female with large breasts, do not look "too Chinese" or "too Indian", and if you are of the same race as the dirty cop. It also helps if the cop had sex the night before.

    Friday, December 02, 2005

    I am putting forward my opinion on one aspect of the Malaysian recording scene. This is specifically on the process of mastering, which is the final stage of treatment done to a piece of music before it goes to the CD duplicating plant.

    If someone tells me the mastering of Nick Lee sounds "compressed", all I can say after I bitch-slap you is for you to get with the program. It's not compression. It's the music slamming into the wall. That's how it's done around the world today. Music today is hot; and not in a musical sense.

    Do you know why when a locally-produced track comes on radio, YOU KNOW it's local even before the words come out? Because it sounds wimpy, especially when you listen to an internationally-produced track and then you listen to a locally-produced track.

    So, when you listen to Nikki's Maharani, don't be surprised! If it's too loud for you, turn down the volume or listen to Norah Jones. Play a track from Maharani and then play a new Mariah Carey or Britney Spears track. Are the sonic differences so far off that it is sonically offensive? This album is made in Malaysia and hopefully, very soon, albums here will be judged by this standard. Then I can buy that water purifier that looks like a rocket that I've always wanted.

    I am imposing my tastes and preferences here. If you don't like, all I can say to you is to get over it and get used to it. And oh yes, why not leave the 70s behind and come into 2005! We also have the Internet, fake boobs, and other cool things here.
    I feel the need to vent blog today.

    The inevitable finally happened. My 02 Mini PDA phone piece-o-crap finally crapped out and it automatically hard-reset itself. To put it in non-technical terms, the thing totally pissed on me. I lost everything especially priceless SMSes. Microsoft must die. There must be a better way. (And don't say PalmOS!)

    Wednesday, November 30, 2005

    If you are my friend, you will go out and buy this double CD for RM29.90. It comes with a free plastic bag for you to walk out of the store with. Although I wish you wouldn't ask for the free bag because plastic takes a thousand years to degrade. And please...do NOT ask me for free copies. And if you're not my friend, you may also buy this CD. I am not going to stop you. Preview music at www.nikkimusic.com.my.

    Buy the CD. Your mama will love you more.

    Tuesday, November 29, 2005

    I noticed something interesting today…besides that invisible zit on my ass that has me constantly scratching myself. As I was doing my groceries at Cold Storage in the Bangsar Shopping Complex, I noticed how nicer most people there were. It’s not the same kind of communal spirit you’d find at places with a lot of Ah Bengs and Ah Lians less affluent people. Heck, even I was nicer. People in Bangsar smiled more. They were more patient. More forgiving. More white.

    That’s it, isn’t it? It’s that expatriate community there that has softened the locals and made the locals think that for that fleeting moment, they were in a different country and they had to behave more civilised and perhaps, speak with an unidentifiable accent. I recommend that Bangsar be its own independent country and a gay man be the president.

    Friday, November 18, 2005

    After eight months, 182 hours of recording, 1839 hours of editing, 542 hours of mixing, and 39 drum samples later, it all boils down to this.

    All that work reduced into a little piece of shiny plastic.

    Dropping November 30.

    Wednesday, November 16, 2005

    I visited Bangkok with the kind folks at Fuse. I brought my camera along. Suddenly I felt like an idiot with way too much time on my hands. In other words, I felt like Kenny Sia. So I stopped taking pictures because I did not want to crossover to Loserville living in an apartment on ILoveMyselfTooMuch Avenue. Besides, my other travelling buddies were already blinding me with their incessant flash photography. In this digital age, they could easily send me copy of myself giving the camera a peace sign.

    If there is one thing I’ve learned from being in Bangkok is that one can never have enough of animal meats on sticks. Then there’s their love for pork products. Every corner you turn. Little pieces of pork on sticks. Along with that comes that lovely aroma which Jimmy says is bamboo shoots. Why bamboo shoots? Because when you cook the thing, it produces a smell that will embed itself into your hair and clothes. That’s why. Any other way would be too civilised.

    Just so I get it out of the way, no, I did not go to any sex shows or see any vaginas that can do complex mathematics. Neither did I visit any prostitutes there. I did watch this drag show where I saw the same pair of perfect boobs replicated on four different men. They must have had a bulk discount special at the boob implant centre that day.

    Thais love their king and queen. And I don’t mean that in a gay way. I am talking about the guy with the goofy hair on their currency. They actually throw city-scale parties when it is their birthday. Unfortunately, we missed the queen’s birthday by a hair. But we could see some remnants from the party: Lots a really huge pictures of the queen.

    Then there’s the Royal Temple built by the royal family. A huge beautiful place with amazing temples and a lot of things made from gold. I am guessing that this is the Disneyland for monks around the world. Monks in other countries probably sell raffle tickets to raise money so they can visit the Royal Temple so they can kick back.

    This is also where this really huge golden Buddha reclines. It’s aptly called “The Reclining Buddha” and is anatomically correct, complete with nipples and all.

    It is good to see that the Thai government have their priorities right.

    Other than that, Bangkok feels like a Singapore ten years after being taken over by Malaysians. But having said all that, I like Bangkok. It’s a little crowded. A little dirty. I have suggestions for irrigation which I hope the Thai government would consider. And I don’t understand why Malaysians in Bangkok find it amusing to keep saying “sawadee kap” to other Malaysians. (On that same note, I also don’t get this thing about people going “Let’s go yum cha!”)

    Look ma. No pictures!

    Tuesday, November 15, 2005

    But life goes on.

    And in other news, poisonous gas emissions from the industrial world continue to rise.
    A part of me died today.

    Sunday, November 06, 2005

    I am not sure which is sadder. That I wanted to know the difference between "bitch-slap" and "pimp-slap" OR that I actually got results when I googled "bitch-slap vs pimp-slap".

    Lemme break it down for y'all.

    According to Wikipedia, bitch-slap (sometimes bitchslap or bitch slap) is a slang term often meaning the same as a "box on the ear".
















    Not too much fun there.

    Let's keep it real and check out the Urban Dictionary. A bitch-slap is "to open handedly slap someone. Denote disrespect for the person being bitch slapped as they are not worthy of a man sized punch. Suggests the slap was met with little resistance and much whining."

    Word use:
    Keith owed me that $20 for weeks and I had to bitch slap the muthafucka to get it back.

    Aight.

    Now, a pimp slap, on the other hand, uses the back of the hand.

    According to the Urban Dictionary, "It really don't matter how many fingers you use. Just remember that it's the back of the hand, not the palm. Using the palm is the bitch slap. The back of the hand is the pimp slap."

    How to perform:
    While VERY angry, extend the right arm across your chest in a 90 degree angle. Tighten your biceps, and swing to the right with full speed, aiming for the cheek.

    The goal is to connect as much of the back of your hand with as much force as possible.

    Word use:
    Keith owed me that $20 for weeks and I had to pimp slap the muthafucka to get it back.

    Thanks to playerappreciate.com, let's review by pictures how to pimp-slap some punkass.

















    Let's take it to the next level. I want to introduce the Pimp-Bitch-Slap combo. It will take a little practise and coordination but I am sure you will get the double the results.

    Word use:
    Keith owed me that $20 for weeks and I had to pimp-bitch slap the muthafucka to get it back.

    Saturday, November 05, 2005

    Check this out. Nutritional facts.

    Big Mac: 484 calories and 23g of fat.

    Then we have the “healthy wholesome” Grilled Chicken Foldover.

    Grilled Chicken Foldover: Calories: 522.55 and 21.71g of fat.

    Did I miss something?

    It seems like McDonald’s Malaysia have missed a few meetings. Post-“Supersize Me” (the movie that basically took a crap on McDonald’s and then wiped their ass with it.), McDonald’s went “healthier” and have removed their “supersize me” option which allows the customer to upgrade their drinks and fries to a larger size. In other words, they are trying to help you NOT die faster so they can make more money off you. That’s what I call “long term strategic planning.”

    But not in Malaysia. You may still upgrade your fries and carbonated drink for a low 75 sen. That’s one way to go.

    It tickles and baffles me that with our great advances in modern technology, we still haven't figured out a way to effectively, hygienically, and most importantly' quickly dry our hands in public restrooms. Apart from the paper towels which leaves a big mess that looks like a paper factory exploded, we are still left with that conversation-stopping white box on the wall that blows out hot air.

    Even in the most modern restrooms with funky sinks that look like the next generation iPod, we wash our hands under motion-activated taps and then we stand there like fools under an over-grown hairdryer waiting for our hands to dry. Heaven forbid if there’s someone behind you waiting in line. You feel the pressure. You’re trying to act cool while thinking to yourself “Dry faster. Dry faster. Ahhhh….fukkit!” After three seconds on whatever-the-hell-it-is-you-are-trying-to-achieve, you give up and walk away. Your hands are not dry and you have to resort to the original hand-drying method: Wipe hands on pants.

    And even if you have the patience to stand there to completely dry out your hands, why does the blower stop before the hands are dry? Why didn’t those hand dryer guys do their research and time the thing properly?

    Friday, November 04, 2005

    Some people have ruined it for the rest of us. There are some excuses that can't be used anymore even though it is the honest-to-God real reason.

    Now, when a person says...

    "I left my handphone at home. So I had to go home to get it, which is why I am late and also why I could not answer your call when you called 23 times and left messages asking where I was."

    he really means...

    "I am late and I am making up this excuse because I was standing right next to my phone when you called but I did not want to pick it up because I was still at home in my pajamas."

    Then there's the "I-am-in-a-meeting" line which really means "I don't want to talk to you now because I do not have a good excuse to respond to whatever I was suppose to respond to three hours ago."

    Finally, we have the lamest reason for not calling someone.

    "I don't have your number because I got a new phone and your number is on my old phone."

    Which is really another way of saying "You're not important enough for me to keep your name and number in my phone."

    These are tough times.

    Monday, October 24, 2005

    Not Me: Let's go have "nasi lemak antarabangsa". It's the best nasi lemak in the world.
    Me: Go home. Your mama's calling you.

    Is it just me or does everyone in KL think this "nasi lemak antarabangsa" is the best nasi lemak in the world?

    Well then, let me be the first to say that it isn't. If anyone thinks it is, they should seriously consider expanding their food-eating places. Frankly, I don't see what the big deal is. It's not bad but it's certainly not the best or even in the top ten for me in KL. I suppose if you are into runny sambal, then that place would be the mothership for you. But one thing's for sure. It's as overrated as Kylie Minogue's ass.

    And don't even get me started on the decor.

    Tuesday, October 18, 2005

    Me after 40 seconds on the stepper: I want to die.
    Gym trainer guy: It's OK. Have some water.
    Me: OK.
    Gym trainer guy: You know, you should drink something that will replenish your system. Something like Gatorade or 100 Plus.
    Me: I am not a fan of Gatorade. 100 Plus I like.
    Gym trainer guy: OK. Then you get a can of 100 Plus and open it while you work out. Let the gas out first. Otherwise it will upset your stomach when you work out.
    Me: 100 Plus at room temperature and without gas tastes like urine.
    Gym trainer guy: Then take something with glucose.
    Me: Like Coke without gas?
    Gym trainer guy: No. Take Ribena.

    Best thing I've heard about working out so far. Ribena!

    Saturday, October 15, 2005

    It is 6.15 am and I've been sitting in front of my PC for the past five hours playing with Google Earth. Next to video games, television, and exercise, Google Earth has to be the most fun way to waste your waking moments away. I suggest you give it a go.

    Apparently, this thing has been around for quite awhile. You download the Google Earth application. Install it. Fire it up and you get a view of the planet. With your mouse, you can then rotate, zoom in or out our lovely planet right down to the streets. These are satellite photos and are not in realtime.

    Hey, I can actually see my house from here.

    I've pretty much checked out the famous spots like the Statue of Liberty and the Forbidden City. Now I am looking for nude beaches and Osama bin Laden.

    By the way, China is fucking huge!

    Wednesday, October 05, 2005

    I am not proud of this post because it is about food. I realise there are people starving all over the world and I should not be complaining about food...blah blah blah....I'm lucky to have food...blah blah blah...people starving in Africa blah blah blah.

    Having said that, I must tell you about Post's "Honey Nut Shredded Wheat" cereal. I switched to this brand of cereal from Kellogg's "Frosted Flakes" because apparently, the sugar frosting was killing me. So enters the shredded wheat.

    Let me tell ya. They might as well call it "Dried Bird Crap" because that is what it tastes like. This is purely conjecture now since I've never tasted dried bird crap but I can imagine this is what it would taste like. The honey didn't help either. This cereal, by far, has to be the driest, most revolting, blandest, most boring cereal ever created. The challenge here once you drown the little bastards in milk is that you have to finish it within 30 seconds. If you don't, then you will have the soggiest, most revolting, most boring cereal ever created.

    Forgive me God for this rant but I feel I have to warn my fellow man.

    Anyway, I now have a box of tasty Honey Nut cereal if anyone of you want it. Just come over. Call first. I might be in the shower.

    Monday, October 03, 2005

    Last night, I earned my rite of passage and came closer to becoming a bona fide Malaysian.

    I bribed a policeman.

    Yes, it was my fault. I commited a traffic offence. I take full responsibility for my actions. What surprised me was how easy it was to bribe the guy.

    I thought I had to do this whole song and dance with him but he just went ahead and told me it's a RM200 fine if he gave me a ticket but it could be less. And before you know it, I was handing him RM50. It was that easy.

    So there you go. The Malaysian police at a discount!

    If you don't hear from me in 48 hours or if this blog goes off line, tell my parents that I love them.

    Malaysia Boleh!

    Monday, September 26, 2005

    As quoted in The Star on 26 September 2005, MIC president Datuk Seri S. Samy Vellu on his successor:

    "We have identified a bunch of new leaders who, when we say walk, they must jump." he said.

    If I want you to walk, why would you jump? I wouldn't mind if you ran instead of walking but in the direction I want you to go. It boggles the mind.

    Friday, September 23, 2005

    Here is a completely useless observation that serves no purpose other than to show that I have observations that serve no purpose.

    How many people know the composer of the song, let alone want to browse by composer instead of the usual browsing by artist, album, or genre. It finally dawned on me as to why browsing by composer is available on the iPod. It’s for classical music. It would make more sense to browse for classical music by composer instead of by performer.

    Now here’s something you don’t hear me say everyday: I went shopping with Nik yesterday to help her pick out clothes for her performance.

    It has finally hit me that women actually enjoy shopping.

    Yes, men say that all the time but I now have a heighten appreciation of that concept. When a man says “let’s go shopping”, it means “Let’s go buy things I need in the shortest time possible.” When a woman says “let’s go shopping”, it means “I need to buy something so let’s go look at things and try on as many things on as possible. Oh…and it’s OK if we don’t buy anything.”

    Me: Hey. Let’s go shopping with Nik.

    Gen: Sure. But I have to leave at 9 pm.

    Me: Ah….no problem. It’s 3 pm now. We should be done by 6 pm.

    Gen: You sure or not.

    Me: Don’t worry. Sure can one.

    Thus endth my possible career as a personal shopper.

    So I kinda figured out women take so long to shop, especially for clothes. Two things. 1. There are just way too many options for women’s clothing; and 2. Women actually care what they look like wearing what they wear. Then there’s a silent 3. Women actually enjoy the process of shopping i.e. trying on clothes and shoes.

    Trying on clothes.

    Ladies, I want to break it down for you. Hundreds, if not thousands of women think like you.

    “Let’s try this on!”

    By the time you buy that skirt, or that blouse, those pants, or that pair of shoes, possible tens, if not hundreds of women have tried on that same pair. Take a moment to digest that. Heaven forbid if you get someone who does not wear any underwear or is lactating. Heaven forbid that this woman had a pubic itch and decided to scratch through that skirt. Heaven forbid if she picked her nose and decided to wipe off that snot on the shirt you are trying on. Call me gross but you are the one indirectly rubbing skin with tens of total strangers.

    Speaking of shopping. I finally bought a hands-free kit for my phone. I moved one step closer to Taiwan since I got one of those Bluetooth headsets that make me look like I should either be working at the McDonald’s drive-thru or should be hanging out at Sungai Wang Plaza with my new friends, Benggy and Lam Pah.

    Think about that pubic itch ladies. Gross.

    Wednesday, September 14, 2005

    Tomorrow morning, I am going to do something I haven't done since January this year. I am going to get a haircut. Not that I was planning to. But Colin made an appointment for me to get a haircut. He called the hair place and made the appointment. He actually picked up the phone. Dialled the number and set the whole thing up. I don't need the flashing neon sign but I think he is trying to tell me something.

    Here lies an opportunity. I could go get my haircut OR get my haircut AND entertain you lot. Which means I will have my digital camera attached to my hip and take pictures of me before and after. Take pictures of the guy doing my hair. Take pictures of the questionable chinese tea they serve. Mention how expensive getting a haircut is. Take more pictures of some Type 3s. Highlight the sexual innuendo in "Wash & Blow". (Waaaah...can get washed and blown for RM15 ahhh?)

    But I won't. I will leave this Discovery Channel moment to others because frankly, who gives a rat's ass if I get a haircut?

    Friday, September 09, 2005


    From The Star:

    Emmeline Ng received one of the toughest questions, but her confident answer stole the hearts of the judges at the Miss Malaysia / World 2005 pageant.

    The question was: “You have been given two minutes with a suicidal person. What would you say to convince that person that life is worth living?”

    The 22-year-old Ng's answer was: “I would tell him to live on for his family because they are always there for you, that you should never give up as life is full of miraculous twists and turns and that it is worth taking risks in life, as the greater the risks, the greater the returns.”

    WRONG ANSWER!

    The correct answer is "Hey big daddy. Get off that ledge and I will blow you!"


    Erra Fazira is so hawt!

    Thursday, September 08, 2005

    As a songwriter and music producer, I want to go on record saying that I think Crazy Frog's Axel F is brilliant. It's annoying as hell but it makes you want to listen to it instead of shutting it off. Now that's genius!
    I am recording Erra Fazira tonight. I am so excited. And I just can't hide it. I'm about to lose control and I think I like it.




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    OK. I'm over it.
    My doorbell goes off at 8 this morning. Apparently, some boob called the police and told them to check up on me and that I could be decomposing on the floor which means one thing: Lower resale value of the property.

    I am wrapping up some projects now and there’s a faint light at the end of the tunnel. It could be a train coming right at me. I was hoping to take the rest of the year off because I’ve been working like a dog these past two years. I am grateful for the position I am in but three thoughts (thoughts?) I had recently are forcing me to reevaluate my life.

    The first is my grandmother. I didn’t see her enough. I didn’t take enough pictures with her. I didn’t get to know her more. I didn’t get to take her to the country she had wanted to visit; China. Even though she is still around, I have regrets. She doesn’t recognise me anymore. I have regrets. My grandmother. Friends. Ex-girlfriends. Life. I do not want this same regret to spill over to my parents and what I have now. I think I just wrote lyrics to a country song.

    You might want to sit down for the second one. I am actually thinking about going to the gym and getting a trainer. If you know me, having me even THINK about it, let alone have it down in written form is like having Elton John say, “Gosh, I think I might be straight” or Bill Gates go “Maybe the Mac is the way to go!” So there. Now I need to find a trainer who will kick my ass and drag me to the gym three time a week. If you know a good one…

    The last thought, I had this morning while chatting with JW. I am kinda sorta maybe smitten by someone.

    JW: Do you like her?
    Me: I think I do.
    JW: Why don’t you give it a go?
    Me: What does one do when he wants to give it a go?
    JW: Ask her out for a meal/movie?
    Me: Good idea. How would I know if she likes me that way?
    JW: Ask her out again.
    JW: And again.
    Me: Right.
    JW: If she’s busy all the time, then you’d know she is not interested.
    Me: What a waste of time these things are. That’s why I am all for arranged-marriages.

    And that’s when I also realised two shockers. I am romantically inept. And to make things worse. I do not look like Johnny Depp. Which all adds up to me being pretty much fucked. What a predicament.

    For our somewhat belated tech tip of the week, I would like to suggest two alternatives to applications you may be using. If you are still using Internet Explorer as your main browser, switch to Firefox. It’s fast and efficient. Most importantly, it is safer than Internet Explorer. Using Firefox will reduce your risk and exposure to all the crap out there that is attacking IE. Get it at www.getfirefox.com. You will immediately be closer to finding inner peace.

    The second one is Trillian. I don’t understand people who will run two or three instant messaging apps at the same time in order to be connected to various networks (ICQ, MSN, or Yahoo) just so they can have their emoticons. Do you not realise that all these apps are slowing your PC down? Therefore, run Trillian. Just one application. It connects to MSN, Yahoo!, ICQ, AOL, and IRC. You can still do emoticons but you can’t do that window buzz thing in Yahoo! or those annoying things in MSN. But it leaves you more room to do other things like surfing for porn. www.trillian.cc

    Batdude. It’s infotainment.

    Moving along.

    I also noticed something else recently. How some people say “bye”.

    It’s no longer a simple “bye”. It’s now “boi” or “bai-yee” or some other baby-talk variation.

    Pray tell. Why?

    There is nothing more attractive than an adult reducing himself or herself to this infantile form.

    Me: I’m leaving now. See you later.
    Other guy: OK. Boi boi.
    Me: Now why you wanna say it like that?
    Other guy: What?
    Me: Boi boi. What the flying fuck is that?
    Other guy: Err…I guess I am just trying to be cute.
    Me: Well, don’t. You sound like a putz.

    Then it made me think about the way people have said their goodbyes. At one time, it was the thing to say “bye” in a different language. “Ciao” comes to mind. It’s not just a title of a song. Perhaps it is hard to say goodbye.

    On that note, bye.

    Friday, September 02, 2005

    I may pop a blood vessel.

    If this blog is not updated in three days, call the coroner.

    Tuesday, August 30, 2005

    I believe the management of shopping and office complexes actually have those signs that say “Please make sure your car is locked” noticeable only after you are far far far away from your car simply just to mess with your head.

    Me: Did I lock the car?
    Jac: I think so.
    Me: Damn. Did you hear the car beep thing?
    Jac: Errr…I think so.
    Me: OK. I am going back to check.
    Jac: No wait. I think you locked the car.
    Me: Are you sure?
    Jac: Yes I am sure. But maybe you better check.
    Me: Fucker.
    Jac: Did you turn off the stove after boiling water this morning?
    Me: Kanina.

    Then there’s this other thing about people who walk into elevators and try to continue their conversation on their mobile phone. Granted, some elevators still have coverage but generally, most do not. So if you are walking into an elevator and the phone rings, don’t be yelling “Hello…hello….hello…hello…can you hear me? Hello…hello…hello.”

    Do that and you are forcing me to pee on you.

    I am on a mission these days. I want to complete my ripping of some 1000 CDs that I have or before I run out of disk space either on my PC or on my iPod. Yes I know. I am a wild man!

    Friday, August 26, 2005

    Here's a train wreck.

    Sara: Hi. What do you do?
    Me: I work at Ikea.
    Sara: Wow. Interesting. What do you do there?
    Me: I am the person who names all the furniture. We don't use product numbers. Instead we give them names like Mikhail and Pax.

    Normally the conversation about my job ends there. But not today.

    Sara: How much discount do you get if you buy furniture from Ikea?
    Me: Err...30%
    Sara: Do you think you can help me buy some furniture?
    Me: Err...sorry but I have already maxed out my staff purchase quota.
    Sara: Oh. Maybe you have some discount vouchers. I have seen those.
    Me: Oh....you mean gift certificates? You actually have to buy those.
    Sara: Can you get them for me?
    Me: Err...you have to pay for them.

    The woman looks at me expressionless.

    Me: Wow....you must really love your Ikea furniture.
    Sara: Yes. Maybe you can let me know when you have a sale and let me in early.
    Me: You know, I actually tried to name a stool Homo. But they wouldn't let me. But I did manage to name a couch Lesebo.
    Sara: How much profit margin do they make on the furniture?
    Me: I love that new Harry Potter.
    Sara: About those gift certificates...you think you can help me get some?
    Me: Man...what about that haze. Don't you miss it?
    Sara: Where are we on the gift certificates?

    Wednesday, August 24, 2005

    I am blogging today. Don’t expect anything funny or clever.

    The reason why I haven’t blogged in awhile is because I’ve been busy with work and reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. It took quite awhile but I finally finished that book. I really like it. I don’t think I remember much of the story since I’d read a few pages before I go to sleep. And usually, when I do get into to bed, I am already sleepy. So what I just said made to sense as to why I would bother reading before bed. That’s how I finished Harry Potter and the Temple of Doom too. And I don’t remember a thing from that book except the death of that one guy. And how Harry became Lord Vadermort.

    The past months had little meaning. I wake up. Start up the computer. Press the keyboard and mouse a few thousand times. Turn a knob or two. I get hungry at about 8 pm. I go out to eat. Come home. Start the computer again. Turn more knobs. Get into bed at about 5 am. Read two pages of Harry Potter. Fall asleep. And the really sad thing is, I haven’t lost any weight. Fuck. Most people who go through these things usually lose weight.

    The uber-geek in me reared its ugly head and made me buy the entire seven seasons of Star Trek Voyager on DVD. This introduced me to the double-sided DVD. I hate this things. They don’t work well for me.

    Then I get this call from my mother last week. My grandmother lost her balance and fell. Now she is bed-ridden and she won’t speak. I haven’t gone back to see her in months. I am not sure if she is bed-ridden or she just refuses to get out of bed because she is afraid to walk. So, I am going back home this weekend. Don’t make plans with me.

    I should have gone back to visit her but I was just swamped with work. I wonder how many people regret saying that.

    “I’ve been busy with work.”

    Then I met Est for lunch the other day and told her about my grandmother. She told me that she regretted not going home more to visit her parents when they were still around. She has regrets. I guess I know this all along. We all know this but yet we do otherwise. The label for this is “Taking Things For Granted.” But I like taking things for granted. It is easier on me.

    On that note. Let’s part-tay!

    Friday, August 05, 2005

    On behalf of men around the world, I have this message to the women and girls who ride in our cars. When you are on the driver’s side and you are feeling cold because of the conditioned air, please, PLEASE, please ask us to turn the air conditioner down or shut off the flow of conditioned air on your left. Do NOT face the blades of the air outlet towards the windows with the thinking that you do not want the air blowing at you. It does not help. Just shut off the air flow. The only thing facing the blades away and towards the window does is to fog up the windows which makes it difficult to see through the window. And this will invariably piss us off. So, don’t do it.

    Tuesday, August 02, 2005

    I almost wish you blew my head off - it's that cool. I'm a total Mac person.










    DJ/Web designer/music video director/club promoter is robbed with Apple's latest product: the iGun.

    Monday, August 01, 2005

    I am not in love. I am curious.

    How does one upgrade the relationship from "friend" to "boy/girlfriend"?

    Looking back, I can't say that I've had a romantic transition from being friends to being more than friends. Is it me or does that turning point involve sex?

    So, there's that really awkward stage where there's sizzle at the beginning of the courting stage. (Courting? Do people still use that word in 2005 or did that word go out in the 80s along with shoulder pads?) Things are exciting. "Oooh. We touched. Does that mean anything?" And then, boom. Bodies touching. Lots of moisture. Suddenly, there's the relationship. For some, it takes five months. For others, it's two weeks.

    On the flip side, we have that "we were friends forever" situation. These two people have been friends for three years. Then they started going out. Where is the turning point? One drunken night?

    All this drama. Chalk this as another incentive to get married, besides the buffet of sex.

    Again, I am curious. I would love to hear how people made that transition from friends to lovers. What was that turning point?

    The lines are open.

    Thursday, July 28, 2005

    There is nothing more exhilirating than moving content from one blog to another. After a year plus, I've moved back to Blogspot where it all began. The move was an interesting process of self-discovery and I've seen how much I've grown in the past two years. That's another way of saying that I've written a lot of crap and I think I am getting better at it.

    How do you like the new girlie look?

    Tuesday, July 26, 2005

    Jo. A name so beautiful that they had to say it twice.

    Before this gets completely out of hand, let me say, I have nothing against Jojo. I love her show until then ran out of models to interview.

    "dude, u have to much time on your hands. via your posting u do make everyone on jo's show and herself appear pertubed by some catcy bimbo virus. However, if u watched the show, u would see that what they said was in humourous light.

    don't be such a downer and chill on the sarcasm batboy. i am a fren of jo's and zen's, and they are both lovely people:)"

    No, I don't think there is some catchy bimbo virus. It is an epidemic.

    Right about now, people are passing a link to my site around and saying I am a Jojo-hater. So truth be told, I do not hate Jojo. I think her show is stupid but sinfully entertaining, which is a good thing. I hope she thinks that way too. And if science could somehow harness all the mental energy in the studio where they shoot "Pillow Talk", I am sure they could make toast.

    You won’t see a better display of misguided effort.

    I am fairly convinced that in every government organisation in Malaysia, there is one department that has at least six guys who sit around and come up with names that also make sense as an acronym. There must be a committee that comes up with this.

    PUAS - Perbadanan Urus Air Selangor Berhad
    PLUS - Projek Lebuhraya Utara-Selatan
    INTAN - Institut Tadbiran Awam Negara
    MAMPU - Unit Pemodenan Tadbiran dan Perancangan Pengurusan Malaysia
    ICU - Unit Penyelarasan Pelaksanaan
    JAWI - Jabatan Agama Islam Wilayah Persekutuan
    JAKIM - Jabatan Kemajuan Islam Malaysia
    SUHAKAM -Suruhanjaya Hak Asasi Manusia Malaysia
    SPA - Suruhanjaya Perkhidmatan Awam Malaysia
    PROTON – Perusahaan Otomobil Nasional

    It is one thing to have your FRU or TRF or FBI or CIA or DEA. But to have the acronym make sense, that requires genius. Or someone just has way too much free time or in my case, just plain bored with life.

    Saturday, July 23, 2005

    Let me start off by asking...

    Don’t you think Mr Fantastic is too old for Invisible Girl? It’s “Invisible Girl”. Not “Invisible Woman” or “Miss Fantastic.”

    I’ve been going on without any food in the fridge for the past month or so and I’ve finally faced the inevitable of doing groceries. Even so, it was because Mr Manager (no relation to Mr Fantastic) managed to freak me out by saying “You should have at least two eggs in your fridge at all times. Lillian Too said so.” Can’t argue with logic and science.

    So I groce.

    What’s up with these people who would jam up the aisles for a five strands of noodles just because it is free? And you know what’s worse than standing in line for a free taste of instant noodles? Going for seconds.

    I digress. But I groce. I’m going low-carb. No bread or noodles. Lots of meats. I am not sure if I am going Atkins but I am feeling constipated already. It's almost two hours from shopping to home. Throw out expired crap in the fridge. Fill up the refrigerator with new stuff. Now I feel like eating out.

    Fact: I have food in the fridge.
    What it really means: Now there’s food rotting away in the fridge.

    While grocing, it got me thinking about our local brands. (Shopping makes me think crazy!)

    Why do local companies tend to use their products as mascots? For instance, “The Chicken Rice Shop” uses the chicken as its mascot. Even the local KFC once used Super Chook as its mascot a long time ago. Think about it. If you were a chicken, would you encourage your fellow chickens to be eaten. You’d be seen as the Uncle Tom of chickens. The chicken who sold out. No wonder our local brands don’t make it.

    See, McDonald’s have a clown named Ronald. Not a cow hawking the Big Mac cause that would just be sick and gross.

    Besides the food products, I also bought some entertainment. One was “The Essential Michael Jackson” which after looking at the pictures of Mike over the years in the inlay, highlighted two things for me. One, I am old. Two, plastic surgery as come a long way. Second, was the 20th Anniversary Edition of “E.T.” reinforcing the first point from the Michael Jackson CD.

    So tonight, I am staying clear out of my home studio. I am going to eat a huge piece of meat. Update my blog and figure out how to podcast on my iPod. Watch E.T. and perhaps sexually harass myself. Then read my Harry Potter and go to sleep before midnight. All this on a Saturday night. Before you know it, I’d be doing something crazy like going to the gym. What kind of fucked up world am I living in?

    Friday, July 01, 2005

    Cheryl and I had lunch today at House & Co. at BSC this afternoon. The place was packed with these women who are really professional wives. They just sit around all day, eat and sip coffee, go shopping, and tell their domestic help what to do. I am not certain but I am fairly confident that 10% of Botox users in KL were in that café. They were not eating and they were just sitting there taking up valuable space from people who really need that curry laksa fix.

    Anyway, we had to share a table with these two 40-something women. It was a fairly large table and there were some comfortable space between us. However, it was the quietest meal I’ve had in a long time given that I was eavesdropping, through no fault of mine. She was loud.

    “I had another argument with Edward* today. The baby was crying in the dark and Edward just sat there. I asked “Can’t you make yourself useful?” but he said he couldn’t see the baby. Then we argued and I was really cold to him. I felt that I lost all emotion when I spoke with him. Then I told him that maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore.”

    She went on to tell her friend that she does not need him anymore. She does not need him financially, emotionally, or physically.

    There you have it, the genesis of a possible divorce or separation.

    Needless to say, this conversation was captivating. Never let it be said that I do not listen.

    What’s up with this sort of women? What kind of man do they need? What kind of man are they looking for? From my observations, they are usually single, divorced, or with some white guy because they think Asian men just don’t understand them. (Which I really think it’s code for “Asian men think they are a total bitch!”) And you usually find them in cities like KL or Singapore.

    Anyway, I couldn’t help thinking of the possibility that I might one day end up with a woman like that where I outlive my usefulness. Whatever the hell that means.

    * His real name.

    Thursday, June 30, 2005

    Urban Driver's Survival Skills

    Evidently....I don't blog often enough.

    But I really have nothing interesting or funny to say.

    Although I do think it is very important that you know where your car alarm bypass switch is. It is absolutely not cool for your car alarm to go off and you don't know how to shut it off. People will hurt you.

    Also, I think it is equally important to have a utility knife in your car. Make sure the blade is super strong. You will need this when you see the need to slash someone's car tyres for one of the following reasons:

    1. When this person pisses you off or;
    2. When this person pisses you off or;
    3. When this person pisses you off or;
    4. When this person pisses you off or;
    5. When you feel like you are in a slashing mood.

    I've thought about this. Slashing the tyres works best. And you should slash AT LEAST two tyres; preferably three. The victim may use the spare if you slash only one tyre. It works better if you slash two since he/she is unlikely to have two spares. The point here is to immobilise and inconvenience this person for a bit.

    Ideally, one should slash three tyres as it would require the victim to change all four tyres since tyres are usually replaced in pairs. As I said, I have thought this through.

    Forget about scratching the car or breaking the windshield wipers. That's amateur. Unless you are able to power-scratch the phrase "I am a goat-fucker", slash the tyres. Windshield wipers cost RM20 to replace. Spray painting will cost you a can of paint and will bring attention to your activity.

    Slashing a tyre is fast, effective, and safe.

    In the event that your act is caught by most close-circuit cameras, all they will see is you bending over and getting up. If they ask, you were picking up some coins or your shoe laces were undone. Or my favourite reason: I felt the need to bend over. Women will get more milage with that excuse.

    On something completely different, you should also check the receipt of your parking ticket. I had this experience at the Hilton at KL Sentral where I was overcharged. I brought this up to Metro Parking and after a few days, they informed me that the cashier was fired. That made me feel sexy when I thought of the prospect that there may have been a strip search involved.

    In conclusion, slashing tyres is perhaps the best and most effective retribution to people who steal your parking space. I would recommend that you have an ice pick for this but it is more difficult to conceal an ice pick and even more difficult to explain why you are walking around with one. And ask for and check your receipt.

    Wednesday, June 29, 2005

    Today Reuters released a news story under the headline “CIA has 'excellent' idea where bin Laden is.”

    CIA Director Peter Goss says "In the chain that you need to successfully wrap up the war on terror, we have some weak links. And I find that until we strengthen all the links, we're probably not going to be able to bring Mr. bin Laden to justice."

    I think I’ve figured out this whole Osama bin Laden thing and why the CIA can’t find him.

    Osama’s daddy-O had ten wives. He lost count after the 54th child and Osama may have been the 25th son.

    The CIA might have found Osama if they addressed Osama bin Laden as Osama instead of bin Laden. With a headline like “CIA has excellent idea where bin Laden is”, most of the Arab world would be wondering which Laden son the CIA is looking for.

    And I have seen and heard this more than once; how Americans and the US media address “Osama” as “bin Laden” highlighting their myopic view of the world thinking that bin Laden is his “last name” in context of the “American way.”

    Of course, this one takes the cake: “Mr. bin Laden.”

    No wonder the CIA can’t find him.

    On the other hand, you hardly hear Saddam Hussein being addressed as “Hussein” or “bin Hussein.”

    Friday, June 17, 2005

    I think you're a tad too obsess with this jojo gurl...I mean she could think like ur all pervy or something..Break it to her and ask her out for petes' sake...

    Posted by biffonz_eldren at June 8, 2005 03:30 AM

    Perhaps I was stuttering, but I do not think I am in love with this “Jojo gurl.”

    Although my Monday nights have not been the same since my Jojo hasn’t been talking pillow talk. I missed the last episode with Wong Sze Zen; yet another potential candidate for the position as MENSA spokesperson. Fellow Jojo-fan, Li Hsian helped with some updates.

    “Now that I am Miss Malaysia, I think twice before doing things. Not that it is wrong or anything with getting wasted every weekend. I still want to be myself but now I have to think very carefully.”

    Imagine the thought process.

    *Glissing harp sounds*

    “Hmmmm….I feel like get wasted tonight. Should I or should I not? Cannot simply get drunk now. Must think twice. If I get too smashed wait no sponsor will want me. Maybe Guess or La Senza people will be there and if they see me hiao hiao maybe they don’t want me to be their ambassador like Amber Chia. Aiyo. How ah? Aiyah…forgot to buy conditioner just now at Carrefour. Maybe I drink a bit. I still want to be myself and have fun. Aiyah…this Miss Malaysia thing damn mah-fan man!”

    Monday, May 30, 2005

    I’ve been really good so far. I am a big Star Wars fan. I haven’t blogged anything on Star Wars or constructed any sentences based on Yoda’s School of Grammar. This whole back-ass-wards Yoda talk is about as annoying as Gollum’s “my precious” and anyone who does this Yoda thing should be pimp-slapped.

    All I will say with reference to Star Wars is that I had a chance to go the premiere with Ning Baizura and I didn’t go because I had to work! Waaaaaaaaah. (Crying…not in awe.) And speaking of Ning, she and her manager held a kenduri. My first kenduri and I didn’t take pictures. And they handed out AIM awards to all the producers for her award-winning album “Erti Pertemuan” which is available at a music store near you. So now I have one sitting on my speaker. I hope this helps me get laid more often but I seriously doubt it. I think it is just a regular award as opposed to a magic award.

    Anyway, I like Star Wars Episode 3. A little overkill but I still like it. What I didn’t care to much for was “Madagascar.” Unless you have nothing else better to do, don’t watch it. Watch “The Incredibles” or “Sepet” instead. Or remove lint from your pockets.

    Pillow Talk Alert!

    Do not forget "Pillow Talk" tonight at 12.10 am on NTV7. Jojo speaks with Wong Sze Zen. I have no idea who she is but I'd bet my left nut she is a model, who is a beauty with *cough*brains*cough* who was awkward as a child and now has aspirations to start her own lingerie business.

    Unfortunately, I will be working tonight. But please watch "Pillow Talk" and give it some neck support. And fill me in on some of that "Pillow Talk" wisdom. Please. For the love of God. I need my Jojo.

    Sunday, May 29, 2005

    Today, I answered one of those questions most men never dared to ask.

    “Would I get a woody if a 60-year-old woman gave me a full body massage?”

    The answer is a firm unyielding definite no. And thank God for that.

    I woke up this morning and decided to hang out with my future girlfriend (she just doesn’t know it yet). At the end of the day, she introduced me to her 60-year-old masseuse who gave me a full 90-minute rub-down. When you think about it, it sounds great but when you actually do it, it hurts like hell.

    This is my second time. Perhaps I am uncomfortable by the fact there is a 60-year-old woman who feels like a 300-pound gorilla, fondling me. I could be mistaken but I swear there was definitely some nut grazing going on. That’s when I came to some conclusions.

    First, I have a very low tolerance for pain. Rub my thigh the wrong way and I squeal like an eight-year-old girl. (Although I am glad to report that my reflexes are in full gear during the nut-graze.) This low tolerance for pain essentially puts me out of the secret agent game and possibly a spot on “Fear Factor.”

    Then there’s the pain itself; the pain of having some pressure point on your body being forcefully rubbed on over and over again. And I am thinking, this is probably one of the very few times a man feels pain on his body which is not caused by disease or bring kicked in the nuts. In other words, apart from something like a heart attack or a stroke, a man can go through much of his life without natural pain to his body. Unlike the woman’s body, which at some point will experience a different and unique kind of pain that is from childbirth. Then the realisation set in that a man’s body is not as strong as a woman’s. But then why are men stronger than women. Oh the conflict.

    But back to the rub-down, it was overall quite good. Some red flags in me did go off when she asked what I do for a living.

    “Errr…I am into computers.”

    And her responded with an interesting question in Indonesian.

    “Why is it when I print my passport, it looks different from the original?”

    Great. Now I could possibly have an illegal 300-pound gorilla disguised as a 60-year-old Indonesian giving out massages.

    Saturday, May 28, 2005

    Watch My Thumb!

    I've been to the movies more time in the past two weeks than I had been all last year.

    Let me save you a few bucks with this summary:

    1. Don't watch that forgettable movie with Angelina Jolie and Ethan Hawke. It's so uneventful that I even forgot the name. But that does not change the fact that I want to be reincarnated as Angelina Jolie's bra.

    2. Only watch Troy if someone holds a really big gun to your head or promises to go down on you in the theater.

    3. Only after you've seen Troy (and gotten blown) you watch Van Helsing. This movie is van loud and also van silly. It's not silly entertaining but silly stupid.

    4. Watch Shrek 2. Then watch it again to see what you missed during the first round. Take notes so you can start water-cooler conversations with "Did you get it when..." when you make movie references and try to sound smart when you're really a dork.

    5. Watch The Day After Tomorrow on cheap days. If you can arrange for it, that in-house blowjob might come in handy after all the special effects disaster scenes. Otherwise, bring in a small pair of scissors to trim your nose or pubic hair. That should help keep you awake till the end of the movie.

    Blog In A Can

    I watched "The Day After Tomorrow" just this afternoon. The movie looks great but as expected, the story sucks.

    Haven't gone running this week, all thanks to the wet weather. Cheryl suggest running tomorrow morning at 8 am. That should be interesting. So, I'm going to pump myself with liquids tonight before I go to sleep and then the urge to pee will wake me up. It works for me...and it might work for you.

    I also bought new running shoes for RM350! This is most money I've ever paid for a pair of shoes...or anything that did not contain a microchip or the element of sex.

    I've always wanted to start an all-girl band. I'll call it The Broad Band.

    Cheryl, God bless her, got me running at this 5km trek at Taman Tun. It's a hill. I actually did 5 km. After which I had a brief but very real stroke and I got closer to the feeling of a heart attack than I've ever been before.

    I also sliced the tip of my middle finger while in the elevator. Blood everywhere. Pain. That's when I realised that I will not do well as a spy with national secrets. I am such a big pussy.

    I tried writing a song last night but nothing came out. I have not been spending a lot of time in my home studio. I am convinced that feng shui has something to do with it. There is an affliction in the room some where. You hear me Lillian?

    I also caught the finals to American Idol on 8TV. And then the results show. Just a note that 8TV lied and it was not LIVE from Hollywood because I read the results on the Internet before 8TV aired it at 11 am. It totally ruined it for me.

    I have to write a funny song. I need help.

    Tuesday, May 24, 2005

    Pillow Talk Wisdom #6

    Jojo Struys interviews United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan in a very special edition of Pillow Talk.

    Jojo: Hi everyone. You will guess who I have as our special guest today. I am in the bedroom of Kofi Annan.
    Kofi: Good evening.
    Jojo: I am sure you know the question all our viewers have on our minds. What is the progress on the investigations on your son’s involvement in the “Oil-for-Food” scandal?
    Kofi: Well, the investigations are st….
    Jojo: Hehehe…I was just kidding. What we really want to know is, what is your favourite number.
    Kofi: Five.
    Jojo: Five? Interesting. I like six. You know your predecessor Boutrous-Boutrous Ghali right? Have you ever thought of changing your name to Kofi Kofi Annan? And later perhaps it could be the United United Nations. Hehe.
    Kofi: You are stupid stupid.
    Jojo: What do you look for in a United Nations Secretary-General…err I mean, what do you look for in a woman?
    Kofi: You are stupid.
    Jojo: You are the United Nations Secretary-General. How fast do you type and do you shorthand?
    Kofi: I have had more intelligent conversations with cabbage.
    Jojo: Let’s play a game. Complete these sentence. My favourite part of my body is…
    Kofi: You are really stupid.
    Jojo: What are your turn-ons?
    Kofi: Janet Re….
    Jojo: What are your turn-offs?
    Kofi: How do you make it through the day without people throwing things at you?
    Jojo: If there is one part of your body you could change, what would it be?
    Kofi: Oh the humanity.
    Jojo: How do you keep your skin so smooth? How do you keep it so fresh?
    Kofi: Who did you have to sleep with to get this gig?
    Jojo: Well, Kofi, we are at the end of our show and this is when I usually get my guests to sing for me. But I won’t ask since I am not into World music. I also usually try to get fresh and freaky with my female guests but not this time since you are a guy.
    Kofi: Cock teaser.
    Jojo: Whatever. But for now, Kofi and I blow you a kiss.
    Kofi: Please put a bullet in my head.

    Tuesday, May 17, 2005

    Pillow Talk Wisdom #4

    This week's guest was Stephanie Chai, which brings us the question "Who the fark is Stephanie Chai?" Well, Stephanie Chai is, of course, a model who knows a thing or two on being Malaysian...

    Stephanie: I'm a Malaysian. I have a Malaysian passport.

    ...with a healthy view of herself...

    Jojo: Complete this sentence. I best describe myself...
    Stephanie: ...as a funny bunny.

    ...and life...

    Stephanie: The first thing I do when I wake up is go back to sleep.

    ...and helpful to budding models...

    Jojo: What makes a good model?
    Stephanie: Good bone structure.

    Pillow Talk Wisdom #5

    There must either be a model strike or she is scrapping the bottom of the barrel, but this week’s guest was Fazura. Again, I asked, who the fuck is Fazura? Shock horror, Fazura is a model but wait there’s more. She is also a host and an actress.

    As with every week on Pillow Talk, former Mensa member, Jojo Struys asks the really tough questions like “Do you prefer acting or hosting” or “Do you make it a point to remove all your makeup?”. But this time, Jojo has met her match with a guest even dumber than her. I could feel my IQ dropping with each mind-numbing response.

    Jojo: What do you look for in a guy?
    Fazura: Just be yourself and get it going on.

    Deep.

    Fazura: I am so totally turned on by purple.

    Deeper.

    Fazura: I like honest guys. I was at a Christmas eve party and I was at the bar in my mini skirt posing. You know, posing. Then this guy comes up to me and sprays with some orange stuff. My skirt was all orange. I find him honest.

    So, if you are purple and you look like a teddy bear with social delinquency, give Fazura a call.

    Jojo: What’s the favourite part of your body?
    Fazura: My eyes.
    Jojo: Really?
    Fazura: No.

    Wow.

    Fazura: I want to have twelve kids. Eleven boys and one girl.

    Waaaaaah. That chromosome-control medication is finally kicking in.

    Tuesday, May 03, 2005

    Pillow Talk Wisdom #3

    Jojo: Would you consider an underwater marriage?
    Hannah: Hahaha.
    Jojo: I guess not. Too many bubbles.

    Monday, May 02, 2005

    I am still alive. Too much going on and at the same time, nothing much is happening.

    I did not go for the awards show on Saturday. However, I did go to the after-award party held at the ever-so-glam PWTC. No matter how many times I go there, I can't help but see the PWTC as a piece of crap of a venue which looks like a relic from the 80s. Wait a minute. It is a relic from the 80s.

    My biggest regret was not bringing my digital camera. Even though I've been doing this for years now, I still get star-struck. The inner-geek in me wants to whip out my camera and start taking pictures and asking for autographs.

    I am more glad Ning Baizura won! At least she mentioned my name even though it was in the form of a question.

    Ning: Where's Audi Mok and Azlan Abu Hassan?

    There goes my 15 seconds.

    Thursday, April 28, 2005

    Pillow Talk Wisdom #2

    Jojo: Tell us about your parents.
    Tan Su Wei: My mother is a retired teacher. She used to teach.

    Thursday, April 14, 2005

    If you are only allowed one movie this year, watch “Star Wars Episode III.” If you are in the market for two movies, then watch “Sepet.”

    It’s a great movie. Period. (As opposed to, “It’s a great movie, by Malaysian standards.”)

    “Sepet”, not be confused with the popular French movie about a man and his hamster, “Le Pet”, is a local movie directed and written by Yasmin Ahmad. You might already know her work if you have seen those Petronas ads during Hari Raya or Chinese New Year. And this plays like a 80-minute Petronas ad. And that’s a good thing.

    There are so many things to love about this movie. Ng Choo Seong was good. Sharifah Amani was great. I laughed. I could feel the pain. Made me wish we had more liberal laws for inter-racial marriages. Reminded me of my love for pork products. Also highlighted why some directors should retire. (Especially if the director's initials are YH.)

    The colour looks a little washed out on the VCD. I didn’t catch it at the cinema as a reference. It might be intentional.

    Also, I wish the director used more original music. Maybe it was a budget thing. But I thought it would have been great if it had songs to help reinforce the story. If Yasmin asked, I would have done it for free*. And the movie does not cut smoothly from the first VCD to the second VCD. (That’s why the aliens gave us DVD.)

    So many things could have gone wrong *cough*Sembilu 2005*cough* with “Sepet” given the fact that it *cough*Sembilu 2005*cough* deals with race *cough*Sembilu 2005*cough* relations. But “Sepet” works. The story unfolds and develops well that you forget about the Malay/Chinese issue and the love story carries the movie forward.

    I am glad “Sepet” was made.

    They are handing out “Sepet” on VCD in exchange for RM19.90.

    Please watch it and then explain the ending to me. I don’t get it.

    * Conditions apply.

    Wednesday, April 13, 2005

    I went to a movie with Cheryl today. An actual movie at the cinema. Because it wasn't planned, we ended watching what was showing at the time. And just out luck, it was The Eye 2.

    (I should have known better when one of the directors name is Oxide.)

    First of all, I didn't know the first Eye was so good that it warranted a sequel.

    Anyway, this movie was bad and it hurt.

    It was bad because I sat through the whole 90 minutes of the movie which could have been told in a 20-minute Twilight Zone special.

    It hurt because the movie relied on cheap shocks to scare the audience. And every time a scene had one of those floating heads that do the "now you see it, now you don't" syncopated with THX bass drones, Cheryl would crush my arm and restrict blood circulation to my lower arm. Which is just as well, because it would have been a bloody mess should I pop a blood vessel whenever Cheryl drove her nails into my hand.

    In conclusion, do not watch The Eye 2.

    Thursday, April 07, 2005

    Let me be the first man to openly say this to female-kind: I will still love you even if your skin isn’t transparency. I don’t think this get said enough.

    There is this ad on TV for Loreal's whitening cream. It promises “fair and transparent skin.”

    My first thought was “Do we really want transparent skin?”

    Ponder on that for a moment. Imagine a piece of meat with shrink wrap. That’s what transparent skin looks like on flesh.

    Moving on to my second thought. What is this thing Asian women have for fair skin? Or is there a unwritten requirement that Chinese women should look fair? But then again, there is this even more ridiculous product called “Fair & Lovely” which targets Indian women. Well, at least it is less freaky than being “Fair & Transparent.”

    To all those who think having fair skin means being more attractive, I want to leave you with a thought with hopes that you will reconsider: Michael Jackson.

    Tuesday, March 15, 2005

    Pillow Talk Wisdom #1

    I turn on the TV this evening and I get this local talk show called “Pillow Talk” with Jojo Struys. Jojo is another example of a person who just keep her mouth shut and just stand there naked. She plays the whole ditz thing, like, very well, she is like, totally complete with the bad accent and like, who turn up the pretentious dial to 11 again? Like, whatever.

    Funnily enough, when Sarimah was on the show last week, Jojo suddenly lost her accent. Why la?

    Anyway, this show is a total waste of spectrum. It has absolutely no entertainment value after the first fifteen seconds. But I suppose it serves its purpose to the 38 beautiful people in the wanna-be art/high-society scene for them to say, “Hey, I was on “Pillow Talk!” and then high-five each other.

    Really, do we need a show where a model talks to other models? Oh the mental energy.

    Jojo: What is your favourite number?
    Model 1: Seven.

    And this is how she starts the show. After the opening credits where the name of the guests are shown.

    Jojo: Hi! Welcome to Pillow Talk. You will not guess who I have on the show with me today.
    Me: Your mama?

    Models talk on.

    Jojo: What is the favourite part of your body?
    Model 2: My arm pits.

    Oh the humanity.

    Of course, after this blog entry, it will show up in Google. And because the phase of moon is in line with the stars of Venus, I will bump into Jojo at Starbucks while being introduced by our mutual friend who happened to be reading this blog entry.

    That's all the time we have today. Until next week, let me blow you a kiss.

    Tuesday, February 22, 2005

    The Asian's Guide To Black People

    I had an interesting international relationship encounter which made me realise something. Most Malaysians do not know how to address black people.

    We are almost afraid to come off as racist if we address black people as black. So we call them negro, coloured, or African-American even though the guy might not be American. Anything but black.

    Let me set it straight.

    It's largely acceptable (and safest) to say "black"; as in "black man" or "black woman" as you would say "white man". Evidently, "black" and "white" are the only two acceptable colours you may use to identify with race. No gray area there.

    Never call a black man a "nigger" unless you want to die. However, if you are black, you may call your homie "nigga" (note the spelling) or many homies as "niggaz". Very important to note that you may only address them as "nigga" if you guys are homeboys or you are Chris Rock. And just because the guy is black, he is NOT your homeboy.

    Under no cirmcusmtances do you address your boss at work, who is black, or Colin Powell as "nigga." There is also a limited number of times in a day that you are allowed to use the word "yo".

    In closing, I think the fault of this confusion is black people themselves. They have gone through so many different labels throughout the years of black pride. But like Prince, they change their names, but they get back to the roots. Also, I blame hip hop group "Arrested Development" for this. :-)

    And the day I will die laughing is the they day some Malaysian calls a black guy "ebony".

    Saturday, February 19, 2005

    I think I know what Finnish for "piece of shit" is. Nokia.

    If you go to Finland and someone yells out at you, "Hey apina! Te aari Nokia", it means "Hey monkeyboy, you're a piece of shit!"

    My first mobile phone back in 1997 was a Nokia. And I've been a loyal Nokia user since, with some six Nokia models following. The operating system was simple and so easy to use. However, the last Nokia I had, the 6610 drove me up the wall. After a month with it, as much as I tried to like it or get used to it, it finally broke me. It's official. I hate Nokia as a company and its products. Nokia phones suck ass. They had such a good thing going and they totally screwed themselves over. I do not have to tell you to not buy Nokia since Motorola and Samsung are already kicking their ass.

    Kuihtua Nokia! Kuihtua!*

    I hope this shows up in Google too!

    * Die Nokia! Die!

    Friday, February 18, 2005

    It recently came to my attention that if one clips his/her nails at night, the sound of the nails being clipped will attract spirits. This one single bit of information has changed my nail clipping schedule.

    But it's odd. I've been clipping my nails at night for the past 25 years and I've yet to see or feel the supernatural. And not that I am complaining.

    Therefore, we should only cut our nails during the day when it is safe. I am assuming that is because the spirits are either, 1. afraid of the light; 2. sleeping during the day because the stayed up all night responding to the clipping noises; 3. too much noise during the day to hear clipping noises; or 4. the spirits prefer to spook at night for greater effect.

    Got me thinking. Really, why only at night? What is wrong with the day? Why does anything spooky has to happen at night? So last night, I am thinking, screw it. I need to tend to my harden cuticles. When you gotta clip, you gotta clip.

    It's 3 am. I'm sitting in front of my PC. I reach out for the nailclipper-bottle-opener combo which Ferhad got me as a souvenir from the Maldives. I clip away with great skill and precision. Just after the second nail, the power suddenly fluctuates enough to make the circuit breaker trip cutting off power. The uninterrupted power supply (UPS) for my PC kicks in. Suddenly, I am sitting in the dark except for the light from my two LCD panels which are being powered by this UPS which is beeping like crazy.

    My first reaction is to quickly safe my work and turn off the PC. I do that and now I am in complete darkness. I quickly go out to the power circuir board and turn the main power back on.

    Everything looks OK now. I continue clipping my nails and then felt really sleepy. I washed up and then went to sleep with fresh-cut nails.

    Monday, February 14, 2005

    I am so stirred by what I just saw on channel 36 on Astro that I must blog about it at 6:04 am. It’s the CCTV English Speaking Competition. Yes, it’s a show promoting the use of the English language in China. Unfortunately, the organisers must have neglected on defining which accent the contestants should use. At my last count, there were at least three accents: Kinda-British, Kinda-American, and Kinda-Weird.

    Then, there’s the impressive yet unsettling sight of a seeing the Caucasian host speak flawless Mandarin.

    This English-language Mardi Gras has debate, language translation, guess-the-quote, propose-your-documentary, and oh yes, contestants get to play Taboo with the hosts. My favourite moment was the tie-breaker. After the two contestants made their rebuttals in the debate, the host asks the male contestant for some comments.

    Host: May we have some comments before we announce the winner of the tie-breaker?
    Guy: I think the winner should be her. She should win.
    Host: (Surprised!) Why?
    Guy: Because she is so beautiful.

    (Note: Apply your own accent for impact.)

    After these two hours, edited from what appears to be some kind of marathon language orgy panning days, they announce the winners.

    But the one that takes the cake is the winner of “The Audience’s Choice” award.

    Host: Congratulations! Please say a few words.
    Winner: Thank you. I did not expect to win because I am a girl. The boys were more entertaining. I did not entertain as I was just doing my job. Also, I am not feeling too well because of my upset stomach due to not eating rice which I should have during lunch just now. Thank you very much.

    I am not making this up. I am no where this creative to come up with stuff like this.

    Saturday, February 12, 2005

    It’s that time of that year where I plan to blog excessively, test my patience with dial-up Internet access, deal with headaches as a result of oversleeping, and of course, field that ever-refreshing question of when I am getting married. 28 August. So far, things have been quiet and fairly uneventful, except for that brief moment when I had some juice from a mandarin orange I was peeling, squirt into my eye.

    I had all these things planned for the break. I was going to clear up my paperwork, clean up my hard drive, organise my documents, balance my bank account, pay my bills, learn the words to “Drop It Like It’s Hot”, see how many cock jokes it takes before it gets old, and watch “Nip/Tuck” on DVD. However, as soon as I arrive in Melaka, time slowed down. And there is something in the water in Melaka that makes me sleepy all the time. And it usually happens after I eat.

    My grandmother is 87 years old. She does not see or hear well. She does not recognise me or most of the people around her. There are so many thing that I regret that I never did with her, like take her to China or ask her about her life. Language was an issue but I can’t help but think I should have done more to narrow that communication gap. After all, it can’t hurt to better my Chinese.

    However, my parents are healthy. The perceptive and poignant side of me tells me that I should not let the failing with my grandmother repeat with my own parents. But right now, I am not exactly rolling out a strategic master plan to hang out with my parents. Life is funny that way. Perhaps the grandparents are here for us to make our mistakes, learn from them, and not let them repeat with our parents. I am babbling.

    And while peeling an orange the other day, I started thinking about life and stuff. An orange will make you do that.

    I started off with the frequent thought of the cancer which is people of Salak South or Kuchai Lama or some equally backward hick community with people who have no concept of common sense and civic consciousness, let alone personal hygiene. I digress.

    Back to the orange. It made me think about the effects of climate on the human spirit and attitude. I think it is logically to assume that people who live in countries where seasons change are likely to be more productive than people who live in countries where the weather is the same all year round. Of course, as with most of my bullshit, I have no empirical data to back this up. I am just pulling all this out of my ass.

    It is logical to me and I speak with some personal experience on this matter. If it is the summer, you want to work on your house and get it done before the fall comes and it gets colder. If it is winter, you want to do whatever it is you need to do in the winter before spring comes along and then you have to do spring stuff.

    However, in a country where the weather is the same all year round, there is a higher probability that things will be put off to the next day because “it can always be done tomorrow.”

    But is it really the weather that makes the difference? I think it is symbolic and it represents renewal. As the season changes, it is renewal; from what the person wears to what the person does in each season. Whereas, one the flip side, take a country like Malaysia, where it is the same all year round. And it reflects in the spirit of the people.

    For me, that orange was telling me that it is that renewal we all seek. That’s why some people travel so much. We say we like to travel because we get to see and experience new cultures and people. But what we seek is a sense of renewal. Travel provides a temporary high in renewal and it usually wears out. Then we feel the need to travel again. It becomes an addiction because we say “I feel so rejuvenated and refreshed after I travel.”

    That’s what the travel agent wants you to believe.

    The problem with travel is that it is a retrospective form of renewal. The person is “refreshed” only when he or she is holding on to the travel experience. This is when the person goes on and on talking about the holiday and how great it was and how lucky he feels because he saw starving children in Cambodia. Or alternatively, he goes on superiority complex to say he has had better (“You know, this sort of nonsense never happens in Sydney while I was there.”) and then acts that way with a false sense of confidence. I usually want to whack someone like this in the face and laugh openly at him.

    On the other side of the spectrum, alcohol and drugs may give you that sense of renewal, but some people think it’s fleeting and destructive. However, it is very immediate and cheaper than traveling. With alcohol and drugs, you are thrust into a different physical and mental state; a crude form of renewal with the added bonus of a 35% chance that the person not being able to maintain an erection during intercourse. Also short-lived but more destructive and almost no chance of any retrospective value unless your buddy was videotaping you during your renewal process.

    We constantly seek renewal whenever we feel the need to rearrange our furniture, get a new wardrobe, repaint the wall, or switch to Mac. In some ways, we all know this but we end up with the same temporary solutions and then we come back to the same fundamental issue.

    The question remains. How do we get that effective form of renewal?

    From my brand new twelve-step self-improvement program available to you at a low introductory price of US$299.95!

    Honestly, I have no frickin’ idea. Although I have a clue that is has to be forward-looking. Forward-looking in the way that has people with children, or more specifically, people with babies, are happier than people without children. They look forward to each new development of their child. Of course, all this goes to hell when the child grows old enough to start handing out blowjobs. More troubling if the child is a boy. Suddenly, the parents develop the need to travel. Oh yeah…that goal-setting crap would be part of it too.

    That was some orange.

    Monday, February 07, 2005

    Technically, how can a person be fired when they were not even hired in the first place?

    This is, after all, a job interview.

    Can you imagine going to a job interview and after the interview the interviewer says "You're fired!"

    To which you might say, "I guess I won't be taking the fake elevator back to the suite."

    Wednesday, February 02, 2005

    Continuing my concert fix, I went to the Sting concert this evening. Sadly, no pictures!

    What does it say about the culture and society when only three or four thousand people go to a Sting concert in KL while possibly ten thousand people go to a Michael Learns To Rock concert in Genting Highlands.

    I am just glad that Sting did not substitute "New York" with "Kuala Lumpur" when he sang "An Englishman In New York."

    By the way, the police were there too.

    Monday, January 31, 2005

    Thanks to my Amber Chia-connection, LSC, I was given a sugary Danish treat at Genting Highlands this evening. While wishing this Danish treat was actually a danish or some kind of pastry, it was Michael Learns To Rock.

    MLTR, not to be confused with LOTR, is perhaps the only Danish rock group that has managed to help define the “Cheras sound” and is responsible for changing the landscape of karaoke bars across Asia.

    If you’re a Type 1, then it’s your birthright to hate their music. You know the words but that’s beside the point. But having met the band after the concert and seeing this social revelation I just witnessed, I can’t help wonder if the band members themselves can’t stand their own music and the band that is Michael Learns To Rock.

    Outside an all-star TVB concert, I’ve never seen so many peace-sign-loving,-karaoke-junkies with boyfriends old enough to be their father or local women speaking English with weird accents to their white husbands old enough to be their father who are at the concert because their dumbass wife loves “Paint My Love” but is tolerating it because he has an Asian fetish.

    What a sight of tastelessness.

    And it did reaffirm my view that Asians, or in this case, Malaysians (or a majority of) have a knack of embracing the crap the rest of the world rejects.

    Good new though, that I managed to get not one, but two autographed postcards of the band. Bidding starts at RM50. DNA of the guitarist may be embedded in the card. I think he licked the pen he used to sign the card.

    Please excuse me while I undo some major damage to my taste buds after this evening.

    Friday, January 28, 2005

    Why I am blogging this evening?

    Because Yahoo! Games is down.

    One of my biggest fears have come true...well almost. After my biggest fear, which is death by drowning, I am now in the early stages of online games addiction. It is only a matter of time before I get a PS2 or X-Box. I just hope my friends will do the right thing and shoot me when I get to that stage. Last night, I spent four hours playing pool at Yahoo! Games. Amazingly enough, I still suck at it. And then there is this other total waste of time called Text Twist which I am officially addicted to. At least I now know that "asp" is an actually word.

    Sunday, January 23, 2005

    I would like to give the government and the recycling people a clue.

    Generally, I think most people would recycle if it were convenient. Right now, I save my Coke cans, plastic bottles, and then when I run out of space, I don't know where to dump the crap. I can't bring it to the trash because they don't have the multi-coloured bins for me to place my stuff to recycle.

    And the only place I know is 1-Utama which is on the other side of town. So I load up my Coke cans in the car and drive around for days until that day when I go to 1-Utama. Then, like a freak, I get out of my car, open the trunk and then I pull out this huge garbage bag full of cans. You have no idea how ridiculous I look and feel when I do this. All this for the environment.

    Therefore, if the government is really serious about getting people to recycle, all they need to do is to make it compulsory for all apartments and condos to have recycling bins within their compound, and all housing areas to have recycling bins within a one-kilometre radius. And then get people to collect them. No need for those stupid ads and silly recycling songs. OK, maybe a few ads to teach people about separating their trash for recycling just so that stupid Ah Beng does not think he is doing the environment a favour when he tries to recycle his used condoms.

    If they want to make their marketing campaign attractive, perhaps they could hold up a recycling bag like a nutsack. That worked for the TPC Egg guys.

    Sunday, January 09, 2005

    Let me start by saying that I am in love. This evening I met Amber Chia, that Guess? supermodel and Gloria Ting, Miss Malaysia/Universe 2004.

    I actually touched Amber Chia. She touched me back. We engaged in conversation. At one point while she was speaking, I think she got her spit on me and it landed on my lips. We were practically kissing. I touched Amber Chia. She asked for my card. I touched Amber Chia. She gave me her card. I touched Amber Chia. And she told my friend that I am cute. Amber Chia thinks I am cute. But I am sure in the same way she thinks Homer Simpson is cute. Fuck. Did I mention I touched Amber Chia? Anyway, I touched Amber Chia.

    I am pretty sure this page will turn up in Google's search results for Amber Chia.

    Anyway, tonight I am reminded of a truism in life. God is fair. All the good looks in the world, but some people really should just keep their mouth shut and just stand there naked.

    I touched Amber Chia.

    Tuesday, January 04, 2005

    **** *** Fuck

    For some people, when they want to get a expletive across on paper, instead of typing “fuck” or “shit” or “asshole”, they’d type “f**k”, “shi*t”, and “a**hole”. To which I ask, why?

    If you are going to say it, go right out and say it because there is no other p*ssible c*herent m*aning for w*rds with an asterisk in it. Well, except for N*Sync. If you are going to be polite, don’t even use the word at all. Or if you are looking to not offend the reader, don’t use it.

    It is almost as lame as people who say “F off!”

    Idiot: Batdude. You are an A-hole. Why don’t you just F off!
    Me: I am a what-hole? And you want me to what-off?
    Idiot: You know…butt-hole….and why don’t you just …you know…toot off and die.
    Me: Oooh…asshole. What A-hole. I thought you talking about a musical chord. A-minor. A-major. A-Hole. Say so la.
    Idiot: Errrr….ya.
    Me: Tell you what. Before I fuck off and die, why don’t you take your sister’s left prosthetic leg and shove it your ass and keep it there until your mama slams it all the way in until it comes back out through your nose.

    Never say I am not poetic.

    In conclusion, if you are going to use these words, at least me man enough to spell it right. With that, I wish you a fucking good day.

    Monday, January 03, 2005

    This 2005 is not all it has cracked up to be. It still feels like 2004 with a tinge of 1975.

    Other than a few wasted cheques because I wrote 2004 instead of 2005, the new year feels quite familiar. I am 33 years old. Almost half my useful life is about gone but things are starting to make more sense to me.

    And this is the turning point for the single man where he turns from "horny bastard" to "dirty old man" and for the single woman, from "independent woman" to just "old" and into the "25%-chance-of-having-a-child-with-Down-Syndrome" category.

    Oh well, at least I have bacon in the freezer.

    Saturday, January 01, 2005

    Let me tell you what I did on New Year's Eve.

    I was at home rearranging furniture in my work space and rewiring my audio setup. It started at 10 pm and it ended at 6 am. And let me tell you what joy it was.

    This is the "before" picture.

    I am going into geek mode now.

    Can you imagine, just three years ago, I had three racks of equipment. With new technology, I've shedded a lot of gear which are now sitting all over my apartment and I can't give it away!

    But today, I have the least equipment I've ever had and my production output is at the highest quality it has ever been. All the wiring was done in 15 minutes as opposed to it taking hours before. And everything worked when I fired it up. I am getting an erection just talking about it.

    Notice how streamlined things are now. And with my wireless mouse and keyboard, I can now move my mouse over to the music keyboard when I play. Sweet Moses! Although I need better speaker placement.

    After today, I think I am now ready for a long term commitment with the opposite sex.

    Man, do I know how to party or what?

    Happy new year everyone!