Guess the tail of these tales

Was contemplating whether I should post an entry today. It’s getting late and I am feeling rather lethargic. But you know what? I think it’s meant to be.

I stumbled unto a very interesting blog, and I happened to know the author of it as well. Read 6 of her entries and I encountered … 1) a beautifully written poem and … 2) Two very interesting stories. With the permission of the author, allow me to share with you the 2 very interesting stories:

Story 1:

There was this girl (ahh… interesting right?)… she has got the hots for this dude and it appeared that this dude was perfect for her. The author referred to him as ROFH (Mr-Right-One-For-Her)… you know, stable career, has all the charm, strong chemistry… perfect … almost. But there’s a slight problem, this dude just doesn’t prioritise her. He will only call her out when he has nothing else to do. Knowing that she has got the hots for him, the dude maximise his advantage to the fullest and took her for granted. If you guys are asking whether she slept with him… well, I dunno la, you pervert!

Then… hmmm… along came another dude, this is OTRFH (Mr-One-that’s-right-for-her)… you know, the one who prioritise her, the one who would bow down at her skirt, the one who know what she wants and fulfil her wishes.

Now, who do you think the girl chose?


Story 2:

There is this really hot looking babe with guys always on her trail. But you guessed it right, she is obviously not interested in them. At least not in the way that they wanted her to.

To make thing things more interesting, she is current dating someone who is dating. Sounds confusing? Well, she is semi-dating someone who is fully-dating another person. Yeah, basically she is the 3rd party in someone else’s relationship. And hear this, she knows it’s wrong and once sworn never to do such thing for her previous relationship was wrecked by another 3rd party… talk about irony.

So what do you think is the conclusion? Will she snap out of it and move on to fully-date someone else instead of being a pseudo-lover? Or will she just continue with the dark side?

Tell me what you think... Thereafter, I will reveal the real tail to you...

How was your weekend?

It was 23rd Oct 2000, my second Monday at my first job. I was in the pantry preparing my Milo and grabbing a few crackers for my breakfast. You know, I was so lowly paid at that time that I can’t even afford a roti canai at the mamak! Just as I was about to leave the pantry, a few of my new colleagues came in and greeted me (very nice of them). Then… they asked me a question that I couldn’t really answer… till at least a year later.

“Hi, how was your weekend?”… seems like a perfectly normal question right? Well, not at that time, so my answer was like…”Errrr, well, it’s normal. Why?” I can still remember the look on their face. Their look reads… “What a stupid young punk this boy is, a normal weekend?” Some didn’t bother to pursue further but others, perhaps trying to be nice, went a step further, “Well, what did you do?”. What the hell, don’t these people ever give up? It’s none of your business! (of course, I didn’t say that)

I was getting irritated but tried very hard to conceal that beneath my face, didn’t wanna piss off any of my new colleagues, some of them being my senior. In my mind, I was thinking, what nosy people this office has, what has my weekend gotta do with you? Of course, I didn’t tell them that.

“Well, hang out with friends, play some sports, the usual stuff, nothing much”, I said.

Now, my irritation went up a notch cause then, they said “oh, ok / oh, normal indeed / etc” with an invisible statement “What a boring weekend!!” tattooed on their forehead.

What the hell! First, they wanna know how was my weekend, then I told them it was normal, they asked more and now I am supposed to feel crap cause my weekend was normal? What is wrong with these people?

Have you ever been in my shoes before? I bet you had (for those who’re working). At that time, think most of us failed to grasp the full value of weekends. When we were a student , everyday seems to be weekend! Nothing special about Saturday or Sunday. In fact, some may even hate weekends, cause during such time, most of our hang out places will be crowded with people. Movie tickets are difficult to obtain, lack of places in our usual eating place and we may even have to pay extra for certain things during weekends. Weekend? Screw weekends!!

I was so tempted to tell all my colleagues that, perhaps even top it up with an aroma of sarcasm, just to make them feel stupid in return, but of course, I didn’t do it. I was a ‘freshie’ in the office, not about to offend any senior of mine.

Now that I have been rat race for a few years, the value of weekends has turned priceless! It’s the only time where we can take a break from our mundane work, no need to face our boss (I hope my boss don’t read this) and best of all, sleep a little longer. To all the working people out there, do I get 3 cheers for that?

To some, we even plan our weekends. We try to insert as many exciting activities into weekends and may even take leave to prolong our weekends. In some extreme cases, we do a countdown, starting as early as Tuesday! If you’re one who starts to think about the weekend even on a Monday, you’re normal, I will most probably join you soon. I am actually looking forward to the coming Friday night already.

So there you go, just like any other thing, we tend to be oblivious to their value until they became scarce, became priceless. Then only we will begin to cherish things. Now, I find myself asking almost all my colleagues the dreaded question every Monday morning, without fail. All the old timers (da*n, I am one of them!) will gladly tell me how interesting their weekends have been. Are you one of them who ask the infamous question?

Speaking of which, how was your weekend?

The right motivation

Tuesday evening, Wednesday evening, Thursday evening and Saturday afternoon, 4 days a week, that’s how often I go to the gym. Consider that the gym is just at the ground floor of my office, I can’t really find any excuse not to go regularly… or can I?

You know, the post-gym feeling is refreshingly good. After a good work-out, a short roasting in the sauna and then a nice warm shower, you come out of the gym feeling as though you can conquer the world. And of course, it also gives you the peace of mind that all the char-siew or siew-yok or bak kut teh in the tummy has all been burnt. Of course, that’s not true, but what the heck, it’s all about perception.

So yeah, the after effect is really cool, but you know what? The challenge is to drag your sorry ass to the gym through the glass door. Believe me, it’s not easy. It’s quite a mental challenge. The temptation to head for the building exit instead of the gym entrance can be quite strong, particularly if your day has been stressful.


My colleague, PUY, who knows I am gunning for 6-pack before I turn 30 said I should put up some kinda motivation in front of me. Naturally, a picture with of a guy with a nice body comes into mind. I’ll be damned! Imagine if I have this picture as my screen saver or wall paper! WTF! People will think I am bloody gay! You know, gay and gym kinda goes hand in hand. Anyway, I think his chest is a bit too big.

So what should be the right kinda motivation? I can’t have picture of topless muscular men around my workstation or in my computer. Gee, topless muscular men… even typing it brings me shivers!!

With the help of a friend, I came up with a… well, a more decent picture. I hope one day I can really have that body with that face on but for now, I guess I can only look and fantasise… err, I mean, be motivated! Heck, what was I thinking!!!

You think I can do it? By the way, I have never missed gym since I started working at my current work place.

Modern Slavery - Part 1

Went to my first ever baptism class last Sunday (yeah, who would’ve thought huh!). Anyway, was going through the stories in the bible and we reached the famous tale in exodus, the part where the chosen race were delivered from slavery in Egypt. It was then that the Pastor said something which caught my attention… he mentioned something on modern slavery (Pastor, I know you might be reading this, don’t worry, that’s not the only thing I learn from that class I assure you).

The 1926 Slavery Convention described slavery as "...the status and/or condition of a person over whom any or all of the powers attaching to the right of ownership are exercised..." A slave is not allowed to leave his owner, (and hear this) an “employer” or a territory without explicit permission. It basically means someone has got you by the balls. If you’re a woman, it basically means someone has got you by …(censored due to the anticipated presence of a Pastor).

In our current civilised world, one would argue that nobody owns us and we are free to live our own lives, do our own things, and have our own time… or is it? Let me ask you… have you ever whine that you’re a slave to your company before? Ahhh…I hear many yes.

The working world… the way towards financial independence… the glamour of being a professional (particularly this)… as long as you’re in the workforce, you’re a part of the modern slavery. Many professionals, driven by the desire to be at the top spot up the ladder, sign their souls away in their first employment letter without knowing it. Funny enough, some are actually very proud and will make a declaration to the world… “hey, I am going to join a-big-corporation-that’s-gonna-squeeze-the-shit-outta-me-but-I-dunno-it-yet-cos-I’m-a-sucker, are you still looking for a job?”

From the day you step your foot into the office, you will:

1. Lose count of the days you failed to see sunset (including the sunsets on weekends).
2. Your computer screen will probably made up 80% of what’s being registered in your retina everyday.
3. Skip lunch and consoling yourself that it’s a good way to diet not knowing your ass and tummy will most probably be inflated due to the junks you stuffed your face and lack of exercise and spending too much time at the mamak bitching about your boss.
4. Realise that there’s no such thing as working hours, but work-in-every-hour.
5. You have no time for everything else (but thank God you have time to read this blog).
6. Leaving your office (or client’s place) at 8pm is considered early.
7. Have a world that revolves only around your colleagues, your superior, and of course, your work.

At this juncture, you will:

1. Realise saying “I’m busy with work” doesn’t sound that cool anymore.
2. Wonder why are you still doing this despite being paid peanuts.
3. Continuously remind yourself that the experience will get will bring you to greater heights.
4. Wish that you can just throw “the letter” to your boss and say “fu*k you!” but you know you can’t do it.
5. Tell yourself that you can’t leave because you’ve been in the line for too long or have not got enough experience or under some kinda bond.

Now, go back to paragraph 2 and read “A slave is not allowed to leave his owner, (and hear this) an “employer” or a territory without explicit permission”… so, are you a slave?

Awesome!

Have a look at THIS!

I wonder how much was spent to produce it. One thing for sure, it's surely awesome. To a certain extend, I think the audio and video quality is much better than some of our local production.

For those who don't quite understand Cantonese, hang around, there's Malay towards the middle of the production. And for those who don't quite get the video, it's us saying 'thank you' to the Indon for the haze that hit us not too long ago.

I must admit, this one... Malaysia Boleh!

Beyond the smashes...

I love watching live badminton tournaments (if they are being in KL la). If you’re close enough to the courts, the sound of those world class smashes can really make you high… err, ok, maybe not. But seriously, I wish I can smash like that. Maybe when I can smash like that, I will get high… err, ok, maybe not too. I shall stick with alcohol.

Anyway, there are some things that you can witness in a locally held badminton tournament that you can’t find anywhere else.

If you have been to Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra before, you will notice that some true-breed Malaysians who will still be late despite not being allowed entry until the interval, and MPO ain't cheap. But if you think the infamous ‘malaysian time’ is an incurable genetic disorder amongst us, you’re so damn wrong. For a mere Ringgit-Bolehland 32, can Malaysians afford to be late for the Malaysian Open? HELL NO!!! I was at the semi-finals and it was scheduled to start at 1pm. This photo was taken at 12.15pm.


If fact, if you were ‘on time’, you will probably need to stand to get a good view of the court.

If you have been hearing people talking about Malaysia tak-boleh, Malaysia mana-boleh, then you should have been at the tournament. Once a fellow boleh-mate is on court, everything boleh. There is this joker who never fails to appear in all local badminton tournament, he is like the official cheerleader of the Malaysian crowd (sorry, my phone not powerful enough to capture his photo, I need to get a cybershot perhaps). And when this joker shouted “Malaysia”, every Ahmad, Ah Kau and Arumugam shouted ‘boleh’, as if we truly mean it… err… ok la, maybe we did mean it, in the badminton sense that is.

It’s really quite a scene I tell you. And it’s also rather ironic because no matter how much you despise what is going on in this country, no matter how low your Malaysian-battery is, no matter how much you wish to leave, when it comes to national pride in sports, we will all suddenly morphed into a super patriotic being, albeit just for one badminton match.

It is also true for ‘the other side’. You can give those fellas MyKad, you can even give them bumiputera status, but when it comes to badminton, those fellas will stand up and shout… “In-do-ne-sia”.

Beyond the smashes, the game revealed what’s in us.

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