tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47639255214027460532024-02-03T08:42:08.441+08:00Mus The GreatIt’s my wacky, serious, skittish heartfelt attempt to share my jagged route to happiness with other people I love.Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.comBlogger312125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-60520261217547784802014-08-17T01:43:00.003+08:002014-08-17T01:43:54.131+08:00Superheroes Adventure 2014
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It was that time of the year again for
yet another LDC Superheroes Adventures. Only this time our little “adventure”
was much closer at home. This year, we chose Berjaya Times Square Hotel for our
Annual BE Outing @ Weekend Getaway. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">After a quick checked-in to our rooms,
we were then walked together to CEO Neway Karaoke at Fahrenheit Bukit Bintang
for our first planned activity – karaoke / dinner. It was the main event that
everyone was looking forward to. Unfortunately Nita couldn’t join us, so she had
missed all the actions. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It was really a night to be remembered
for everyone. Luqman soaring vocal powerhouse and energetic ‘performances’
lightened up the atmosphere all night long. But the brightest star among all
was of course none other than our resident singer, Kyra. We were basked in the
lush vocal timbre and charismatic personality of the soulful, captivating
singer that she is. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Shahrul was the first one to leave due
to ‘family commitment’ but </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">the rest of us, we
continued chilling out, singing to our hearts’ contents, and eating until the
wee hours of the morning. An opportunity to hang out together like this is rare
- like finding an albino big foot in the wild, so we were really let everything
hung loose. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We called it a night around 4am. Everyone looked super tired but
we still half-heartedly promised to do breakfast and probably gym together in
the morning but alas it wasn’t really meant to be. We only met each other again
around 10.00am before we proceed to another activity. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Next activity was bowling. We went to Ampang Superbowl Berjaya
Times Square in hope to bowl away the late morning drowsiness, unfortunately;
all lanes were fully booked that day. We were slightly irritated but it didn’t
hamper our spirits. A small snooker centre called Cue Station located beside
the bowling alley caught our attentions. At first we were not really sure about
it but after a few nudges and jolts, it turned out to be a nice surprise. I’d
think Boey, Kong and Alvin enjoyed the game. I personally liked it. It was a
fun first time experience for me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Time flies when we are having fun. Next thing we know it was
lunchtime and our chosen makan place was Absolut Thai on Lower Ground Berjaya
Times Square. It was a cozy little place. The food was good but the companion
was even better. We have invited few special guests, Ain and Ira to join us for
lunch. It was a wonderful afternoon, wonderful times with friends. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We bid each other goodbyes around 2.00pm with a big smile on our
faces, knowing very well in our hearts we couldn’t wait for our next
‘adventure’.</span></div>
Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-14103249560143780802014-08-17T01:40:00.003+08:002014-08-17T01:40:51.912+08:00BE@UOB Convention 2014
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On
June 14 this year, we had our fourth BE@UOB Convention with the theme of “Seeds
of Greatness”. The big idea this time is to ‘harvest the fruits of our labor by
engaging our colleagues with sustainable success models and shared experiences.
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This
year, in term of venue, we decided to break out of usual. We chose for the
first time to hold the Convention in Grand Hyatt Hotel Kuala Lumpur. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We invited both BE Champions and BE Scorecard
Managers nationwide and the actual total number turned up on that day was close
to 300 people.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Unlike
previous events, this time around, there was no separate session for BE
Champions and BE Scorecard Managers. For the day event, ‘Engagement Talk by
Alphonse Peter’, all participants were sitting together. The purpose was for
them to mingle and connect with each other and most importantly show the same high
level of engagement and enthusiasm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Mr. Alphonse Peter, from
Knowledge Edge (M) Sdn Bhd, a distinguished speaker and renowned engagement
specialist was back by popular demand. He imparted his vast knowledge and
experiences to the participants in the most entertaining ways. He told jokes,
shared funny stories and engaged and inspired everyone in the room all at the
same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone seemed so engrossed
and drawn to his big personality. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Among topics that he
covered for the whole day programme was based on the main theme of the
convention, like Select Your Seed, Prepare The Soil and Plant The Seed, Remove
The Weeds and Apply The Fertilizers, Enjoy The Flowers, Protect and Enjoy The
Fruits. Engagement Talk lasted until 6.00pm and the participants then were
given an hour and half break before the start of the next activity, Appreciation
Dinner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Appreciation Dinner
was the time for the participants to relax and let their hair down after a
long, tiring day. Entertainment for the night was provided by 5 former
finalists of UOBM Annual Dinner’s The Voice competition led by 2012 winner,
Kyra from LDC. Apart from the entertainment line-up, in between, the winner of
BE@UOB T-shirt Design Contest has also been announced. The winner of 2014 BE@UOB
T-shirt Design Contest is Ms. Pak Su Meng of Retail, T&O.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The night was
officially ended on 10.30pm, but of course some of them decided to stay put a
little bit longer for the next ‘unofficial’ activity – karaoke! Open Karaoke
session was opened to everyone until very late in the evening. Everyone was
looked so happy and seemed like they had the time of their lives. We ended the
2014 BE@UOB Convention with a bang – a roaring success for the committee and
team that worked really hard behind the scene. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">After 4 years journey
together in building an enhanced employee engagement culture in the Bank, through
this once-a-year Convention, we hope that everyone will come out truly inspired
and empowered. And just like what Mr. Alphonse Peter said, ‘to enjoy the
fruits, we must nurture the seeds of <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>greatness within
us’. Our journey is still far from over. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #444444; display: none; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-hide: all;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-56090319687954969852013-02-14T23:07:00.000+08:002013-02-14T23:07:40.487+08:00Superheroes* Invaded Penang
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
“<em>Let’s
go to Penang!”</em> That’s how it started when Alvin proposed a short weekend
getaway to ‘Superheroes*’ sometimes in December last year. Everyone was super
excited about it. As for me who’s been to <st1:place w:st="on">Penang</st1:place>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">only</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">two times</i> before, I thought, this must be some kind record – my
first holiday trip with my family from office! So the mood was set up from the
get go, it was something that all of us, superheroes were really looking forward to. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Our
historic journey began on Friday night, January 11, 2013. After waiting patiently
for Syafiq to collect our rented mode of transportation (a comfortable
and spacious 10-seater van) we finally left Pudu exactly at 11.02pm. Alas, some
of us already had gotten hungry from all that time waiting for the van earlier
on, so upon suggestion by Ms. Kyra, we stopped by at <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Rasta Food Court</st1:address></st1:street>, at Sg. Penchala, for a
quick bite and all. And the journey continued right after that, which I think
around 12.34am.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: rgb(255, 249, 238); margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: #222222;">After risking blood clots in our legs by sitting in a van
for 6 hours, we arrived at our destination at 6.30 the next morning. Not a
minute to waste, we looked for a place to have our breakfast since some of us
already demonstrating signs of unruly behaviors probably due to extreme hunger.
Our mamak of choice was that 24-hour restaurant along <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Gurney Drive</st1:address></st1:street>. I forget the name. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Since
Shahrul knows <st1:place w:st="on">Penang</st1:place> like the back of his
hands, he took over the chauffeur’s job from Kong and Syafiq. His first
assignment was driving us around the island, starting with tranquil places like
Bukit Bendera, Bayan Lepas and Balik Pulau. We even treated ourselves with ‘Durian
Buffet’ along the way and had a blast taking pictures on the side of the road,
like a bunch of lost Japanese tourists in <st1:place w:st="on">Europe</st1:place>. <em>Ah</em>,
those fun moments!</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Later
that late morning, we went back to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Georgetown</st1:place></st1:city>
and were totally in the mood of emerging ourselves with the city’s splendors of
the past. <span style="color: #222222;">We visited many historical landmarks like
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Fort</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Cornwallis</st1:placename>,
Padang Kota Lama, and <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Penang</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">City</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Hall</st1:placetype>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Building</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Every site
brought new knowledge to us and some of it even refreshed our memories as we
have known them from our history class. Here also, we really brought
‘photo-taking’ to the next new level – Luqman and Boey especially.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
I
must say, all these historical visits really made us nostalgic and hungry, so
we decided to have our lunch in one of the most-reviewed makan place in <st1:place w:st="on">Penang</st1:place>, Kapitan Restaurant in Jalan Chulia. Thanks to
Shahrul, we found the restaurant in no time. The food was great and the service
was not bad too. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
By
the time we finished cleaning up our plates, it was already check in time. <st1:city w:st="on">Alvin</st1:city> before now has arranged for all of us to stay in
Georgetown Hotel in Jalan <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Burma</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
so it means it’s “recharge time”! And by that I meant 6-hour continuous, really
<em>slooow</em> recharge. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
We
only regained our consciousness around dinner time and Nita suggested we have
our dinner in Batu Ferringhi cause you know, it’s easy for us to shop later at
that famous night market. After all, superheroes are supposed to have
weaknesses, and our kryptonite is cheap shiny things. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
After
we were all done with dinner and shopping, none of us has yet to show the signs
of advanced age. “<em>Night is still young</em>!” said <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Alvin</st1:city></st1:place> in his usual trainer’s voice. So all of
us hopped in the van one more time and headed to <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Gurney Drive</st1:address></st1:street>. “<em>It’s karaoke time!”</em> </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It was one of the rarest occasions, as Nita showcasing her amazing vocal
styling and we were all felt surreal and special. It was a great night for
everyone and I remember having a tough time peeling my hands off the mike when
it ended. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
The
second day was rather uneventful. It was a free and easy thing so some of us
took this opportunity to continue shopping at the nearby mall. The rest opted
for healthier activity like swimming and sweating it off at the gym.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<o:p> </o:p>Great
things must come to end, so did our first holiday trip together as family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before we left for home, we had our lunch in
the hotel and we were already making plans for our next trip. Everyone was so
excited and seemed happy and relax in the company of each other. It’s really a
picture perfect moment for all of us. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
*refers to the name we call ourselves in the department</div>
Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-58480723852355388182011-10-05T23:32:00.007+08:002011-10-05T23:56:51.073+08:00Descending Angels<div style="text-align: justify;">Last week, I took a chance with my friends, and let myself to be whisked away for a short weekend getaway in a tropical island off the coast of northern part of Malaysian peninsula – Langkawi a.k.a the “other” jewel island of the north.</div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; ">Unlike the rest of my travelling buddies (and as shocking as this might sound) I’ve had never been to Langkawi before. This was my first. <i>Yeay</i>. Of course, I was super excited.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; ">Sham, AJ and Eijam had planned for this little trip for months I think and me and Miron only decided to join the group in the very last minute – <i>ah</i> you know, because we care about our friends and we don’t have the heart to see them going with just 3 people. <i>Ahaks!</i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; ">And to prove I was as committed as everyone else in this trip, I let Eijam bought all of us the bus tickets on Friday at 11.00pm. <i>O Yeah</i>, you heard it right. We took the bus, <i>babeh</i>! All 10 hours of them!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; ">After toiling and risking possible blood clots in our inner things, we finally arrived at Kuala Perlis Jetty, 8.30 in the next morning. Not a minute to waste, we dashed to the jetty counter and managed to get ourselves the first ferry out to Langkawi at 9.30am. Talk about perfect timing.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; ">Langkawi only took around 45 minutes by ferry and that means we still had plenty of time before we can check in at our luxurious stay at Sri Kijang Resort, in Pantai Chenang. So where did we end up before then? <i>Ha!</i> We went for shopping at all these duty free shops along the stretch of Chenang beach road. Nature sightseeing can wait, we want bargain!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; ">We then went to check in, freshen up and along the way making up plans for the rest of the afternoon – which unfortunately limited to, eventually hanging out at the Loft Café at Perdana Quay (which I was told owned by Tun Dr. Mahathir). It was raining so heavily we stuck at the café for hours. Anyway the pastries were super delicious. Way to go, Tun!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; ">The next day things were looking up for us – weather wise. So we jumped at the opportunity to try out the famous Langkawi Cable Car. Definitely not for the faint hearted, the whole cable stretches up to 700 meters from the sea level. <i>A-mazing</i>. It was soo far high, I swear I could see all the way to Thailand and probably even Japan. <i>Erm</i>, or so I think. Anyway, it was worth all the trouble (hiking up the torturous terrain) and the price ticket. Simply breathtaking.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTaxazUP1xmfo0oPb4l9XGUTQI3U5YIYevk-vSOzLhLQn1tbz6yo1kkPSIjJIZLwHYZ-opTiaF23FR_bx7GZWd_DEcadgLsAViRU5JIHME80wLo5oOxuO_qOc-1p67DYavPU6bMbKPqeM5/s400/cable.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660031708218594034" /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i>Oh</i> I forgot to mention, we also stopped by at the Tanjung Rhu on the way to the cable. The beach was sandy white and clean. And the view… <i>wow</i>. Just <i>wow</i>. I took a lot of photos while being there that I believe I just brought the meaning of the word ‘camwhoring’ to a whole new level.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Np8rqiLsul2rN6OOeP5lDox5bfTrjDDkPj9TlfrcYxvgIR-t-F0RnKb9czdrvtDejp4eXk6-wyWloh__FuLZQbQuLT4Tl2AKvq1ZU9vJQIGFjQF3yVlfr1lRjz6ppHIx_McULsaaXJc7/s400/RHU.jpg" /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Actually, we were also supposed to do the island hopping in the next day, our last day on the island, alas, something happened and didn’t work out the way we planned so we grabbed the map and just point endlessly on it until it stops somewhere <span> </span>and <i>voila</i>, look what we had found here.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6M8trHVqmtl_I14jo03_zeCLIb83CrEw_NPY7njPHAxeFUu97Z3Rxb2V_5c4fBxh2T_52x7PQVyzk2L4vK5-TsrUwxMkbhcVYrKmombaOjr153jb5Xi_snk1-2MPKgFzOnY-a-Dv0Q2Qt/s400/temurun.jpg" /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">This is Temurun Waterfalls. We never expected it to be this beautiful. I mean just like I said, we ‘discovered’ it by chance but OMG, look at this picture. It’s like a postcard from paradise. Luckily not many people were around that day, so we had to whole place to ourselves. And pretended we were the descending angels. <i>*cough*</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Eijam, AJ and Sham wanted to stay for another day, so I let them be, while me and miron took the evening flight home that day. Our flight to KLIA was on 5.35pm. It was a comfortable way home, but my heart and amazing memories with my dear friends stayed there and it was very, dare I say it, unsettling.</p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-86614473212603060952011-09-25T23:57:00.003+08:002011-09-26T00:18:32.815+08:00Save a Life And Be a Winner<p class="MsoNormal">Have you ever seen a movie in which the main actor was soaking wet with his own sweat trying to doodle a clue to the FBI - 10 seconds before the bad guys blow off the place? If the hero was me, the FBI would have been better learned to <i>mengucap</i>, cause the place WILL (and I tell you in utter confidence) be blown off in 10 seconds. Forget the innocent lives; I can’t draw a line to even save my own life.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I would be happily blamed this “artsy deficiency” to both of my parents. Ask them about Picasso or Latiff Mohidin, and they’ll probably tell you it’s the name of one of their detergents or <i>minyak gamat</i> brands. I was ready to hold up my hands and accuse them for harbouring bad DNA on our siblings, but then my little brother came along. And boy is he like the best painter/graphic designer/animator I know. I mean, he is so creative and full of ideas, he makes my self portrait drawing looks like J.Lo’s butt print.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Last Friday, I was driving my brother to MDEC Hari Raya Open House in Cyberview Lodge Cyberjaya. It was also the day where the winners of Digital Interactive Comic Competition, organized by MDEC will be announced. You see, my brother had submitted his entry 2 months back, and I think he only got a call last two weeks saying he had been shortlisted as one of the finalists. It was not really a shocker, because, you know, like I said, he got a way with the brushes and those tiny magic pens, but to be among the best in the country, whoa, that really blew my mind. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Alas, he didn’t win. I really wanted him to win though. But it’s ok, I am still proud him. And that makes him already a winner to me. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I know I said I couldn’t draw a line the save my own life, but I think, with my brother around, he can take care of that for me.</p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-52411473125587138192011-09-16T15:44:00.003+08:002011-09-16T15:50:38.266+08:00My Manny<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">My Manny was sick last week, so I had to send him away for one week to be treated by the professionals. It was really hard for me, but they told me, it’s for the better, so he can heal faster without me poking him around here and there. <span> </span>So I relented.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">And I tell you that was the loneliest, most painful 7 days of my life. I missed him so badly. My nights were cold, without him purring his warm, motor-y breath to my cheeks. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">But finally, he came back yesterday - looked healthier than ever! I was overjoyed.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmVXIC3uCJMHnIJ7FxLjXGmEAtLVJL1Tb5TwavZGaZmya1YkvfSrui2YP9vXWnIBX2CJHXCCAt9uZYTNAgrLyBVxrmNBOGWsfvBcKfK34MVpBbNWdvwodf87R0gXMcf2TqZhWLbZ3g6yfh/s400/Photo077.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652860348342103426" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Oh <b>Manny Degaldo</b>, my <i>loovah</i>!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i>Muah! Muah! Muah!**Hugs**</i><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">*cue music from Alicia Keys’ If I Ain’t Got You*<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">And leave us alone, will ya?<o:p></o:p></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-38248888332992176852011-09-07T22:49:00.002+08:002011-09-07T22:52:46.668+08:00Reena Got Fresh Kidneys!<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I met Herman over lunch the other day. Actually it has been a while since the last time we hang out together. So we planned carefully around my busy, busy schedule and agreed to meet at The Apartment, KLCC. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not wanting to make it sounded a little bit too much like a date and drew an unnecessary attention to us; we invited Reena to join us as well.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">In a perfectly normal setting, friends, who you only meet once in every 6 months, would most likely to notice or remark on things they can see now that they didn’t see before - like how the friend has lost major weight by losing a limb, or swollen boobs due to botched sex reassignment surgery, but with Herman, you tend to notice 'other' things too, right inside his pants. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">He bought the new Blackberry.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Oh my. Every time that we meet, he’ll be either showing me his newly bought phone or seriously contemplating about buying a new one. It’s like he’s the Steve Job of our Telco industry, the whole market shall collapse should, God forbid, he’s down with a cold and can’t go out and place another booking for the new model. He buys new gadget, like some people buy a carton of milk. In cash. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I am raging inside with jealousy. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I probably wouldn’t mind trading in one of my kidneys for one of those IPads, IPhone or Blackberrys, but I can’t afford to have a scar on my highly insured body right now. It’s too costly. I, too, have been thinking a lot about plotting my friend’s ‘disappearance’ but nah, that would be too fleshy, ops, I mean, messy, you know, with blood and everything. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So Herman, one of these days, should you are not happy with me and lapse into one of your major hissy fits, Naomi-style, please aim your new phone my way. I’ll gladly take it. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Wait, did I mention Reena was with us as well? Maybe she got a pair of fresh kidneys too! <o:p></o:p></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-48870259586954943562011-09-03T23:11:00.004+08:002011-09-03T23:33:53.577+08:00Smoke Gets In My Eyes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZQiF0pozGCWuRskmApAG5-PtGp6vh23Lk53ocF93avb1uzHxC29tPakpZm3LYFQvq0Wou_vFOWJbQzc5rUzpk6N98VWzI_hhd7F4lIYOKtBe_H-LeorCn4gHWrlwpejCshOAun253eNA/s1600/Photo066.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZQiF0pozGCWuRskmApAG5-PtGp6vh23Lk53ocF93avb1uzHxC29tPakpZm3LYFQvq0Wou_vFOWJbQzc5rUzpk6N98VWzI_hhd7F4lIYOKtBe_H-LeorCn4gHWrlwpejCshOAun253eNA/s400/Photo066.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648153653852054338" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I got a cake today. Not like any other cake. This one called ‘White Dark Chocolate Cheese ’ from Secret Recipe. It’s for my birthday, Oh scratch that, anniversary. Yeap, today is my anniversary. This time, I didn’t get the cake myself. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My sister bought it for me, so it was extra special – because it’s less, <i>erm</i> well, pathetic.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Anyway, at my request, the so-called “anniversary party” was supposed to be a laid back do, a little family get together with a promised of an all-around grown-ups atmosphere <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>- that means, no surprises, no lame-ass clown (please no!) and I crossed the line on confetti cannon display (sorry ma). <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">But they were a few little details in the *<i>cough* *cough</i>* 30 years tradition that I insisted of having this time around; such as, me blowing a single candle or two, people singing customary happy birthday song and lots of balloons in the shapes of my favourite animals. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">And Oh gift. Yesss, gifts - lots of them. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">All my siblings, nephews and both of my parents were all presence, so it was all good, just like what I imagined the good, perfect 30<sup>th</sup> anniversary party should be. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Bliss. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><i>Tsk</i>, my dear God, I think something gets into my eyes, <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Dang.</i></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-14882116617246214022011-09-01T16:58:00.003+08:002011-09-01T17:18:01.218+08:00“Aiyo, you mesti olang manyak semayang punya, manyak ong maa. Kelete you pun ada heng"<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I was driving ‘round town with my mother and two of my siblings when we decided to stop at AEON Jusco Tebrau City Mall for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As you are probably aware, my mom, who has suffered a stroke a few years back, requires a wheelchair whenever she needs to move around a humongous mall like this - which by the way here in JB, you can find them almost everywhere.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">So while my little brother made a quick dash to the information counter to loan one of those wheels, me and mom, combed the whole blocks around the mall looking for a parking space for our, <i>ehem</i>, ‘sprawling’ ride.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And after seemingly like a lifetime or two, we finally managed to snag the best spot not too far from the main entrance. <i>Yes!</i><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Unfortunately, even after half an hour, my brother still couldn’t get hold of that chair. They were all out. I guess today is old-folks-home-denizen-visiting-mall day or something. <i>Damn</i>. So we decided to just wait in the car for the next available wheelchair.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">In the car, to kill time, I turned up the air conditioning to the max and was having a really good chat with my mom - as should all good sons do. We were completely engrossed with our little conversation - which regrettably only revolve around the topics of ‘marriage’ and ‘having kids’ (Damn those old people who ‘stole’ our wheelchairs!) - when from the corner of my eyes, I noticed another vehicle, an MPV was trying, rather wobbly, to squeeze in a tiny space just in front of us. Unable to ignore, I also noticed there was a very tall lamp post in between our car and that MPV.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">It didn’t take a few seconds later when I heard a loud thud followed by a gradual shrieking sound.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">OH. MY. GOD. The back of that stupid MPV really did hit the base of the lamp post <i>hard</i> and now it gave away. To my horror, it went straight to our direction!<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">My mom, who I suspected has been exercising her lungs for a momentous occasion like this, screamed her heart’s content, which only added an eerily appropriate background track to this already intense situation. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was stumped. So many questions were coursing through my mind.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My car!!! My imported, SPRAWLING car!!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0U-Gx8VVHG1KtSxlo_nibKU8lASCg6LGmwravjTC8J72rtprB1ssUKiMPzVL0VRSTp_Wf-awBSSkbRTxNiRqsCyNXaF51VnnSjZnugL5QnfICh3FwR7TcICZ8Kure6ikzaWkzWjML91f/s400/Photo052.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647314086363863666" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Fortunately, the pole missed our car and collapsed just an inch away. <i>An inch</i>. I tell you, should a mere gust of wind blew through its teeth to our direction, we could all well be on the headlines the next morning. That how close it was. Like a wind, I jumped out of my seat and went around straight on the other side - looking for a reason to strangle the moron who almost caused hurt and trauma to my car. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It turned out my baby was fine. No scratches. And Oh, so was my mom.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">People were beginning to gather around our spot - thanks to my mom’s un-restrained wails and only then, the main culprit emerged from the vehicle. It was a Chinese couple, who inexplicably looked completely calm and collected. I mean,<i> wtf!</i><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I, too, was not going to go down with that and act like some uncivilized prick, so tried as I might to appear unruffled – with the right dose of stoical and authority - but just as stern. I guess that worked like a charm (or probably due to my ‘intimidating’ size). Slowly they were dropping the act and trying to be chummy with me instead. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i>“Aiyo, apa sudah jadi?”</i><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">‘You tell me, idiot’. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><i>“Ini lampu, bahaya la, tak boleh ada sini”</i><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">‘O get real, stupid’.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">They did however ask me how I was doing and offer to assist in any way.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">I said no. “<i>We are fine”. </i><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>“Aiyo, you mesti olang manyak semayang punya, manyak ong maa. Kelete you pun ada heng, sikit aja lagi mau kena”. </i><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The nerve.</p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-21606359501400357772011-08-29T03:20:00.002+08:002011-08-29T04:12:29.834+08:00I’m Sorry I Was Being A Jerk To You And Chose Not To Remember It<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">It’s that time of the year again. Yeah. It’s that time where forgiveness is sought and the new beginning is cherished. I am humbled and truly blessed to be able to celebrate Hari Raya with my family and the loved ones for yet another year. Times like these are rare – just like the time where I decided to let loose a friend over something I don’t even remember anymore. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">I don’t usually discuss this little particular “pickle” of my life in the public domain, in fact I never did. I thought it was easier to completely forget the whole mess and moved on with life. I was wrong. I learned I could never run from anger and hatred. I need to have a certain kind of closure. Forgiveness can heal the pain, so they say. But as it turned out, it is much easier said than done. I know I’ve tried. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">I am not perfect myself, so why is it hard for me to forgive a friend, who, in all of fairness, is probably clueless how the things he did to me has made me feel anyway? <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">I am not vindictive person, in fact far from it. People would steal my lunch in the morning and I am probably ready to make up in the evening. It’s just the way I am. I just need to know they know what they did me wrong and I’ll be fine. Is it too much to ask? I don’t need no apology. It’s just a strings of words put together. I want realization. And if they don’t even care to find out why I act the way I act then that really pisses me off. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">But the last few days has, if anything, taught me, is that; not everything is about how I feel or what I want anymore. Not everyone subscribes to your point of view and agrees with you on anything. When it’s not worth to fight or waste your energy over something that don’t matter at all, it’s best to just forgive and forget. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">Forgiveness is also about to let go your ego and be the bigger man. And if that means to be the first one to say sorry and offer the olive branch, so be it. Let that first person be me. I love my life too much to let my anger and hatred dictate my life. I don’t want to be that person anymore. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">This time I mean it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">So to anyone who has ever been hurt by the way I acted or by the things I said during all the times we have the pleasure of spending together, I am sincerely sorry. I may not remember all those hurtful things I did, intentionally or not, to you, but my apology covers them all. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">Or more accurately, I am sorry if I ever was being a jerk to you and I chose not to remember it. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family:Tahoma, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">Selamat Hari Raya. Maaf Zahir Dan Batin. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Tahoma, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Tahoma, sans-serif;"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;"><b>Note: </b><i>This post is especially dedicated to my closest of buddies, Hasmiron, Eijam, Sham, AJ and Shah, who has just made me realise, I am no more important than the person sitting next to us. You know what I mean</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-75412032567798708592011-08-22T20:26:00.003+08:002011-08-22T23:25:49.011+08:00Mawar Terpinggir<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">I invited few of my close friends to my ‘manor’ for berbuka puasa last Saturday night. Oh nothing fancy. Just a small group of people getting together over pruned dates and a bunch of unfortunate, tasteless-splat-they-called-food I got from the nearby Baazar Ramadan.<i> Demmit. </i><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">So no, don’t ask about the menu spreads. It’s modest at best. <i>Pause.</i> Okay, here the awful truth; when you caught your guests having a BIG dinner right after they left your house, you should take the big hint. <i>Ouch</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">(<i>Hmmmph</i>, but at least I can take comfort knowing all my guests had been treated with such an ‘ahhmazing’ view from my roman balcony. That's right, when it comes to ambience and cosiness, my pad is second to none. <i>Haha</i>.) <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">Anyway, an opportunity to get together like this is rare - like finding an albino big foot in the wild. So I made it clear from the beginning - no other/personal invitations were welcomed. Close friends only. I wanted it to be an intimate affair - and I am glad to report everyone managed to do just that, obediently, <i>err</i>, well, ‘almost’ everyone anyway (Side eyes to Hasmiron). <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">After berbuka puasa together, we hang out and chatted some more until the wee hours of the morning, which served us quite alright since we all did agree to continue ‘catching up’ until bersahur time. We talked about so many things, from topics as serious as our current local political situations (<i>blergh!</i>) to the most inconsequential things imaginable like how the cap of Clorox bottle can ruin your fabrics (which was really, in fact a fascinating story). Bliss. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">Anyhow, somehow, somewhere in the heat of the conversation my friends suddenly dropped a bombshell onto my laps - They actually have been hiding a secret from me. Oh no!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">I don’t know what may have triggered the subject to this point, but I can’t help to wonder? Why now? Or maybe that was just the caffeine talking? But they finally decided to come forward and be honest to me about something. Something they said, they have been keeping from me for months or maybe close a year (OMG, this is so a la Desperate Housewives). The confession that made me goes,<i> ‘Ah, that’s why</i>’. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">Just as exciting as this sound, you know, to feel like I was in the Wisteria Lane or something, the truth really stung me a little bit. I can't lie. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">But, you know what, I learned to move on from here. It’s Ramadan after all.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s water under the bridge. So it’s all good.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">If anything, it was really an eye opener for me. I mean, who knows, something we say in jest one day can really hurt someone so bad, like forever, and the worst part, most of the time we don’t even really know it. <i>Sigh</i>. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">I mean who would have really thought, a decent meal together with friends can lead to this soap opera worthy drama. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style=" line-height:115%;Tahoma","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;">And Oh just to be clear, despite whatever just happened, I am not angry, I just wish I'd pick something else for our main entrée that night. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-67067677602988675292011-08-14T23:01:00.003+08:002011-08-14T23:06:41.237+08:00Scream!<a href="http://www4.images.coolspotters.com/wallpapers/125415/captain-america-mobile-wallpaper.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 480px;" src="http://www4.images.coolspotters.com/wallpapers/125415/captain-america-mobile-wallpaper.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>
<br /><div>
<br /></div><div>This is so terrible, it took a few days to register in my brain. It's like when you are dreaming and you are so afraid that you scream but the situation is so awful that the scream can't be heard.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>That is what this movie is like. I am screaming profanity!</div>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-60552542129171424092011-05-29T23:59:00.009+08:002011-05-30T00:33:30.703+08:00The Best Medicine<div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2G4wq9ckD23ke2DGnnb0cXGM1r04yyrVriyw7SluF0X9eWIXbuIpbAcZcFzA1wSGQmN6_sy8P9Dud8oNbu9wil6MAOsF9qTnFB7CEKB1y729wqc5flp9BctL6dPtV1a8nV-nc6QjPtWa6/s1600/modern-family-season-2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="width: 400px; height: 272px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612168473737838450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2G4wq9ckD23ke2DGnnb0cXGM1r04yyrVriyw7SluF0X9eWIXbuIpbAcZcFzA1wSGQmN6_sy8P9Dud8oNbu9wil6MAOsF9qTnFB7CEKB1y729wqc5flp9BctL6dPtV1a8nV-nc6QjPtWa6/s400/modern-family-season-2.jpg" /></a><br /><br />One of my favourite shows on TV this moment has got to be Modern Family. I know it has been around for a while now but I am becoming more and more obsessed with it.<br /><br />The show has all the makings of a great TV comedy series but what’s more important too is that, it also has all the essential ingredients of MY favourite TV pastimes – it’s witty, with great writing, brilliant cast and so SOO damn, f***ing funny. Never mind a couple of its main characters probably wouldn’t see the light of days in our primetime TV slot, or on our streets for that matter, but the dialogues are so smart, they usually left me rolling on the floor – literally.</div><div align="justify"><br />The half-hour series is largely presented in a mockumentary style. It follows the families of Jay Pritchett, his daughter, Claire Dunphy and his gay son Mitchell Pritchett.<br /><br /></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">And how is this family exactly called ‘modern’ you may ask?</div><div align="justify"><br />Well – <em>take a long, deep breath </em>- Claire is married to Phil Dunphy (my favourite of all) with their three children, Haley, Alex and Luke, while Mitchell and his partner, Cameron Tucker have a Vietnamese baby daughter, Lily. Jay, himself, is married to a young hot Colombian woman, Gloria Pritchett with a son from previous marriage, named Manny Delgado.</div><div align="justify"><br />Now with all these diabolically (but extremely lovable) twisted nuts around, of course the chaos ensures.</div><div align="justify"><br />It never ceases to amaze me, how the writers can come out with such brilliantly hilarious dialogues for every single episode. Add that to a bunch of genius comedians like them, the show is really a laugh-a-riot. No wonder it managed to snag the highest accolades on American TV - Best Comedy Series last year at the Emmys for their first season (sorry Gleeks!). And I wouldn't be surprised at all if they will again repeat their successful run at this year’s awards season. The show is simply unstoppable. (Sorry again, Gleeks!)</div><div align="justify"><br />For all the great things that are going on for it, which I probably won’t be able to stop gushing, it’s unfathomable why it receives a rather lukewarm response here in our local TV scene. Well, for starter, if you are subscribing to Astro’s variety package, you can only catch it on Fox (Channel 702), at ungodly hour, 10.30pm on Sunday night. I mean, to be fair, my guess it's possibly due to its so-called ‘risqué’ theme, which I must admit, it should’ve been expected. Boo!</div><div align="justify"><br />Anyway, since I’ve committed myself to ‘other equally important things’ on Sunday nights and until I got myself an Astro Beyond decoder, I have to look to other options (legal or not) to get hold of every episode. Now what a dude, with black market connections got to do to satisfy his TV’s fix? Well, He went and bought pirated ones from one of his ‘friends’. Ha!</div><div align="justify"><br />(And Oh! Just for your info, the original DVD isn’t out yet from Speedy Videos network, I know that, cause I have been harassing that poor sales clerk lady from Speedy Videos, everyday)</div><div align="justify"><br />I have also been streaming and downloading every episode online, but my internet bills had gone out of the roof. So now, I make a completely use of my new office's wifi coverage for my illegal activities. Thanks to my diligence and steel perseverance I now got the entire episodes on season 1 and some from season 2 in my laptop. Hooray!</div><div align="justify"><br />I know this is unhealthy, in a freaky sort of ways, but for something can make me laugh so hard, how can it be so bad?</div></div>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-40812518843496683662011-05-15T16:45:00.003+08:002011-05-15T16:50:30.933+08:00End Of The World As We Know It!Oh good gravy.<br /><br />James Durbin is gone. Finally.<br /><br />Now who do I want to see get booted next? Oh please - everybody, say it with me! -<strong> Haley! </strong><br /><br />Since the beginning of the show, these two contestants really grate on my freaking nerves. So looking one of them go is like laser-beaming a half of a kidney stone the size of tennis ball.<br /><br /><div align="justify"></div>But my friend warned me, <em>“Don't write Haley out</em>," he said, "<em>When the earth is destroyed, I am convinced that cockroaches and Haley will survive. She seems to have a quality and ability to rise from the ashes." </em><br /><br />NOOOOO……..<br /><br />(<em>Sound of gunshot, crows caw as they fly away, gray world spins on. loud thump, silence. Then, wind chimes.)</em><br /><br />Oh man! I want to be like that. I mean, I want to be<em> </em>like <em>her</em>. I can’t sing but I sure can survive the post-apocalyptic world. Oh come on, just look at my bedroom now. Serious.Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-10955476667587429292011-05-08T23:48:00.002+08:002011-05-08T23:53:07.729+08:00Stupid, Angry MeThis is it. I had it. I am soo over American Idol right now. When American Idol started this year, I was wondering who would fill the void Taylor Hicks left 5 years ago as the only real winner - I am sad to say it looks like it’s not going to happen this year.<br /><br />It seems like that this year, that shrieking jackal James Durbin (<em>Urgh!)</em> is gonna take the crown.<br /><br />I don't really need to go into all the reasons why James makes me want to shove my ears with a pencil. Just watch him perform Bon Jovi’s ‘I’ll be there for you’ and everything will become clear to you. You'll wish you could stab your ears with a pencil too.<br /><br />James isn't a bad singer, it's just everything else! When he does that signature wail, garage doors go flying, cars combust and dogs run into traffic. The b*****d sounds like a hyena on helium getting shot.<br /><br />It's like his scream is taunting me to punch him in the mouth.<br /><br />That said, I hate him so much that I think I love him. When he debuts his post-Idol album that no one buys, it will be bittersweet for me. I mean, who else will make me write this stupid angry outburst on my blog using the blood from my bleeding ears?Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-90734689167105621292011-05-01T23:20:00.002+08:002011-05-01T23:29:13.146+08:00So Long, Suckers!Recently, I watched a really great movie on HBO. I think it’s called ‘Chaos Theory’ or something – starring Ryan Reynolds, Stuart Townsend and Emily Mortimer and some other unknown actors.<br /><br />Okay, I know the cast were all suspiciously good looking but I can assure you that’s not the whole point I am trying to make here (though I probably wouldn’t mind to elaborate on that with you in private *<em>wink</em>*)<br /><br />Anyhoo, the movie was about a time-management specialist cum professor and extremely organised man whose life turned upside down when one day he accidently broke up his iron-tight routine. And what happened next was just a series of stunning and hilarious revelation about his own life.<br /><br />I must say, though the movie has its funny moments - in parts, but it’s more of a drama type about how our hero, Frank finding out that meticulous planning and efficiency does not make him any happier or sane. This realisation and complete personal change is engagingly portrayed throughout the film. Frank's situation connects to the viewers, and easily evokes much sympathy - especially when that particular viewer is also kinda, ehem, constantly undergoing “personal change” himself.<br /><br />Oh yeah, no matter how hard I try to be less narcissistic sometimes, at the end, I still manage to make even this pathetic attempt on so-called movie review all about me, don’t I? <em>Ha! </em><br /><em><br /></em>Anyway, like I told you, I have tendered my resignation and last Friday was my last day. I left the place where I’ve been busted my ass for the past 4 years and I finally am moving on. No drama, just, well, move on. I loved the place - just it wasn’t as much fun as it was before. <em>Tsk! Tsk! </em><br /><br />So, what is more important in life? Is it loyalty? Own personal growth? Or free parking slot?<br /><br />You know what, that’s the very same question that haunts me constantly. And the movie best summed up how I felt in recent months – uncertain and confused. But as Jack says in the movie, ‘when the chips are down, no matter how far ahead or meticulous we may have planned out our life for, we would still bound for little surprises along the way, so stop fretting,!' I guess, I wouldn’t know what the best life has to offer if I never even try to wonder, wouldn’t it?<br /><br />And Oh, and just to celebrate my latest ‘personal change’, I got myself a new skin (blog skin, silly!) to symbolise the fresh start, the new beginning, the new era. I feel the need to start with a clean slate.<br /><br />Cool innit?Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-23588544026132830742011-03-27T14:43:00.002+08:002011-03-27T14:48:28.212+08:00Edward Cullen Eats Frozen, Dead Chicken!<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">When I eventually left home to start working right after my graduation some 10 years ago, it seemed like a natural progression – young adults shifting from one environment to the next. I felt like I could take over the world. While my departures had been relatively painless, my parents thought it was like releasing a domestic animal into the wild. They never worried I couldn’t find a job and make a decent living. Or being lured to the ‘dark side’ – to become <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">mat rempit</i> or prostitute myself for a packet of weeds. They worried because they thought I would starve myself to death.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">That’s <i>riiiight.</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Don’t get me wrong. I know how to plan a meal or boil egg at the minimum, but I displayed a remarkable lack of patience when it came time for the actual cooking. Frozen dinners were often eaten exactly as sold and I eat ‘fresh’ fish balls and fish cake like they are a bag of potato chips.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">I long for the time we can pop in a tiny blue capsule in some futuristic-looking the microwave oven, wait for a minute and voila, a 3 course French style dinner meal is ready on the table for us to gobble. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Yum!</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Anyway, last Friday, I thought I wanted to do something special for the weekend and decided I wanted to cook – forgetting that another option is to simply eat out! I went to Tesco and bought myself a healthy, giant close-to-a-kilo chicken and stuffed it in my freezer, hoping that I’ll be able to tenderize it later for Saturday night dinner.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Always the Mr. I-Never-Forget-Things, I forgot to defrost the chicken and it has turned to nothing but a solid, crystallized meat. I spent my whole Saturday afternoon yesterday, stomping the solid mass into three 6-inch portions, which I’d stack in a pile and force them into the oven. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">After all that work, the chicken had been spoiled. It tasted like roadkill, so I threw it away and called it a night.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">A few hours later, having decided that spoiled chicken was better than no chicken at all, I got out of bed, rolled out in my underpants, and proceeded to eat the leftovers directly from the trash can. At 3 in the morning!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">OMG! I think my skin was sparking too!</span></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-47340552689548483612011-03-20T16:13:00.002+08:002011-03-20T16:19:19.488+08:00A Crazy Friend<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Tahoma"><b>A Crazy Friend</b>: Why are you so secretive about your new job?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Tahoma"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>Me</b>: I am not.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>A Crazy Friend</b>: How much do you make over there?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>Me</b>: …..</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>A Crazy Friend</b>: See?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>Me</b>: How much do you make now?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>A Crazy Friend</b>: My salary is RM5, 800. My side income as a secret agent averages RM2, 000 – RM3, 000 every month. Your turn.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>Me:</b> …</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>A Crazy Friend</b>: This is so typical of you. You know, last night, I was watching Oprah and she was interviewing Matthew McConaughey . She said, “Okay, let’s talk about your new movie. You are getting USD10 million, right?” And his face gets all pinched, and he says he’s not going to discuss money. Too private. What is up with that?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>Me</b>: I think it’s natural <i>not</i> to want to discuss income, because when you do, you seem to be either bragging or complaining. Plus, whatever the numbers, you become an object of idiotic gossip and debate. No, I don’t discuss money. I think it’s weird that you do.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>A Crazy Friend</b>: No, I think it’s weird that you <i>think</i> people want to gossip, much less debate about your income.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>Me:</b> But you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">did</i> ask about my income!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>A Crazy Friend</b>: That’s because I thought you wanted to spill.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>Me:</b> (<i>Confused</i>) Am I being taped there?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>A Crazy Friend</b>: Whoa, you really think you are Matthew McConaughey now, aren’t you?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>Me</b>: ???</span></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-65054394718273738542011-03-12T15:42:00.004+08:002011-03-13T08:16:28.212+08:0049 Days<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">I am not making any big claims for myself but <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">yeah</i>, it’s true; I have been with the same ol’ bank for more than 4 years now. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Wow</i>, sounds like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">fooorever</i>, right? Ha! Well, it is, especially when you consider that my next longest service in my 11 years of career making <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>was my actually first job, which <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">only</i> lasted like 2 years or something…(I get bored easily, I have issues, so sue me)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">My being with the same bank so long isn’t necessarily because they think I am fantastic at what I do or that I have comfortably found my newfound pastimes - kissing a** or be a waste of space or something. I have been lazy.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Something happened with me at the beginning of this year that I snapped. I got an epiphany. So I decided to make certain changes my life, make it more meaningful and you know, just went for it.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">At first I wanted to volunteer for <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Haiti</st1:place></st1:country-region> relief team, or maybe join PETA or travel around the world under the banner of Miss Universe International in the name of charity, but that would be a little too ambitious and painfully predictable eh? (Though I must say that would make a nice, great addition in my resume).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Anyway, harsh reality finally set in and at the end of all these crazy “fantasies”, somehow something great, and totally unexpected in a form of a job offer, suddenly fall onto my laps. I consider that my lucky break.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">So chillax people, this sudden change of heart or ‘skid’ is nothing to do with my current employer or anyone in it at all. They have been great with me. While I am not trying to boast, I do know for a fact they’ve been pleased with my work and by large, I have too. I never come late to office, falsify medical certificates or work my way up by smooching anyone’s rear end.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Okay, maybe I am boasting now. But it means a lot to me, being able to do my work well and makes a lot of friends here; especially that bit about ‘never smooching anyone’s backside’.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Alas, all good things must end somewhere, and it is official now that day will come on 29 April 2011. Last Monday, I have tendered my resignation with 2 months notice - which like 49 days from today. For real, I counted it.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Man, I am dying with anticipation.</span></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-31969817309169457092011-02-27T21:55:00.002+08:002011-02-27T22:00:40.999+08:00Almost Like an Announcement<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Tahoma">I am about to make a huge change in my life. This probably huge-<i>er</i> and <i>waay</i> more important than the time I decided to buy my current fully important ride over a certain re-badge local brand car some 5 years ago. This is gonna be my life’s epic.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Tahoma"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; ">Considering how serious I am with my 2011 New Years Resolutions that I vowed to make it happen earlier this year, I have made up my mind and go for this “new change”. I decide it’s time to move on.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; ">Unlike J.Lo in her “fake” breakdown in a recent American Idol episode (<i>boo!</i>), no, I will not be second guessing myself. It’s final.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; ">Truthfully, I didn’t consult nor ask anyone about this before. Should it was a bad decision after all, I didn’t want anyone else but me to be held responsibility and be blamed for it. It was purely, 100% my decision. And just like Whitney wailed in one of her greatest tunes,<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“If I fail, if I succeed, at least I live as I believe…“ (</i>Damn<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">, </i>you go girl!), I trust myself to make the best decision there is for me and for my own life.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; ">Some of my friends might not be surprised with this at all. In fact, they probably see this coming from miles away. But I guess, at the end of all this, all I am asking from them is just to be happy for me with whatever decision I make. Good or bad, plain or vague.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; ">Now, speaking about being vague….</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Tahoma"><b> </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; "><b>What is this f*****g change that I have been blabbing about. </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">You j<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; ">ust wait.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:69.75pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; ">All I am saying for now, I am gonna make Ms. Houston real proud. </span></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-13326223656768519102011-02-20T22:23:00.004+08:002011-02-20T22:51:16.282+08:00Romancing The Dummy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHfPjfkB9dPk1IIs9VJ1PiOaXt0g4KzZOoOe_RXqllKJCOVavsv3f-JUctps08tFsc4EmrmYldbfaIIOnFjIxGzeliYZ6PtjFOJ7bpGCAsTTnjLm2XdQqL5pFAJ2h3o6VRFtSLI94VvjU/s1600/f31f997f75444916bda18b5f1b89488f.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575778943279502962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHfPjfkB9dPk1IIs9VJ1PiOaXt0g4KzZOoOe_RXqllKJCOVavsv3f-JUctps08tFsc4EmrmYldbfaIIOnFjIxGzeliYZ6PtjFOJ7bpGCAsTTnjLm2XdQqL5pFAJ2h3o6VRFtSLI94VvjU/s400/f31f997f75444916bda18b5f1b89488f.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><div>At first, I didn’t want to go. I thought it was just a colossal waste of time especially when I think about another kazillion of “fun stuff” I could have done with my much deserved weekend. But, <em>sigh</em>, I decided to go anyway. Okay, I mean someone *<em>cough</em>*my boss*<em>cough</em>* made me go. So I packed my bags, hopped onto the bus, crossed my fingers and wished that these three days of sure-hell won’t be the closest thing I imagined it to be.<br /><br />I know it hard for anyone to believe this, but yes, I attended CPR training at Felda Residence, Trolak. Never heard of that place? Me neither.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguQoljlAPM1tNBdRaKOxerZxWCyWf0b6zwG6piWFw0_SIvlN8SD622kob9Jc_ki4isfJ-T0jTN3xDQOpjSJYXs0FL_8zyouj6YrdG1oePwE_C1XLFAgEoanFbxTcKyDukexPfFYhwVY5WY/s1600/25ded69b213c4fd9b0eb5669f6b4fa8c.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575778734378654306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguQoljlAPM1tNBdRaKOxerZxWCyWf0b6zwG6piWFw0_SIvlN8SD622kob9Jc_ki4isfJ-T0jTN3xDQOpjSJYXs0FL_8zyouj6YrdG1oePwE_C1XLFAgEoanFbxTcKyDukexPfFYhwVY5WY/s400/25ded69b213c4fd9b0eb5669f6b4fa8c.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Finally, after barely survived watching (tolerating) 2-hour of mindless violent, on-the-bus Z-grade movie, courtesy of the organizer, me and another 34 of us, finally arrived at the camp.<br /><br />Or so I thought.<br /><br />Actually No, we didn’t go straight to our dorms, instead our desperate-to-be-popular bus driver, decided to make a last minute detour to Felda Residence Hotspring. The reason? You guessed it, “<em>Popular request</em>”. O yeah, for real. Apparently some superstitious <em>makciks</em>, whom I suspect never saw hot water comes out from the ground before (or in their lifetime, <em>ever);</em> make a point to marinate their lose skin with the “divine” boiling water as a cure for their skin diseases. Or maybe it was just one of their 'Things-I-Want-To-Do-Before-I-Die' wish lists. <em>Sheesh..<br /></em><br />Grudgingly, I had to get off the bus and forced to follow this excited bunch of people to soak their nasty, little feet in the puddle of hot water in the full view of my tired eyes. <em>Eww.</em><br /><br />In my mind, I couldn’t wait to get to my room, have a nice, warm, long shower, hit the sack with the lights on, and tried as I might to think that this was just all a series of bad dream that I hadn’t woken up from. Unfortunately the mosquitoes bite around my calf and arms felt too real. I resented the whole situation.<br /><br />First, our detour to the hotspring took a little longer than expected. I mean, a really LOT LONGER. Aside the fact that some people couldn’t really understand the concept of moderation and self-control, I found it quite distasteful that anyone would pack their groceries from home, like eggs and frozen foods and boil them in the pool, right between their nasty, nasty feet. <em>Ewwwwwwwwwwwww……<br /></em><br />Secondly, of course, it was raining cats and dogs when we had our dinner at the nearby restaurant. We had to wait for another 1 hour or so for the rain to let up so we can get onto our bus. (We were a mile far from the dropped off point)<br /><br />Could this first day be any worse? Yes it could.<br /><br />How about when I finally got the room, the key wouldn’t turn? Or there was no Astro? Or my room was in third floor and there was no elevator?? Yeap, that was the last straw. I blew my top off – quite literally. I was ready to unleash my inner diva - Christina Aguilera style, but luckily they managed to act fast or for sure some innocence life would have been on the line.<br /><br />So okay, first day wasn’t really the greatest day in my life, I admit, I was acting like an immature child of some Hollywood royalty. I get it.<br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZexCEJTXcG1ZBhCjxaIJ8EuPpkJUsMWSU9oYNj264GmekBZSGOW6G5rrx4awVz0erXkQGqwIk-P_2x_MxWNtZJKdCa5ekLDE80zD6s3PZnUxg7dgMlsbQZD1SOPNku7F7gEycobghZES/s1600/83298d06df324a48aae3a6cca529c4c2.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575778275034192354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZexCEJTXcG1ZBhCjxaIJ8EuPpkJUsMWSU9oYNj264GmekBZSGOW6G5rrx4awVz0erXkQGqwIk-P_2x_MxWNtZJKdCa5ekLDE80zD6s3PZnUxg7dgMlsbQZD1SOPNku7F7gEycobghZES/s400/83298d06df324a48aae3a6cca529c4c2.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div>The next two days of the program went surprisingly rather smoothly, except for few hiccups here and there like, someone was left without a room (not my fault), and Oh, of course, the food taste expectedly terrible (no surprise there, after all, we were not in faraway resort, in the Caribbean islands on super luxury vacation). Anyhow, I thought the service and cleanliness were quite commendable.<br /><br />The last day went even quicker by the minute, but by this time, my body aches in all over the place, especially around the thighs and groin regions - I guess from so many kneeling, kissing, rubbing, pressing and romancing the dummies.<br /><br />Okay, fine, maybe I am still a whiny, complaining son of a bitch, and maybe that’s the way I will always be. So, <em>whatever.</em> I certainly am not sorry. </div></div></div>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-55842435309181849422011-01-22T13:57:00.005+08:002011-01-22T20:22:06.887+08:00Hippo With Metal Mouth<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;">I am a man with many, many, many, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">many</i> wishes. I whine a lot and maybe a little paranoid. When a friend stupidly remarked that, “losing weight makes my teeth look bigger”, expectedly I freaked out. <i>WTF!</i><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">Now, I can’t stop obsessing about my ‘deformed’ teeth. I’d look at the mirror all day and moan like some kind of evil queen, stepmother of Snow White, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">before</i> she turns all witch-y with very bad dentures.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">Okay, make it crazy vain too.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">So for months now I have been contemplating about getting my teeth fixed, <span class="apple-style-span">but the cost can be ridiculously expensive. Braces can cost around MYR3000 to MYR6000 and even if your company’s dental benefits would pay for it, it may not cover much of the bill.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;"><i>Urgh</i>. I hate it when I am broke.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">I really want those metals in my mouth, like pronto. I want to have a mouthful of shiny, pearly, straightened teeth when I smile and not these bad, crooked ones that would scare off small kids.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">This epiphany certainly put a new spin on the whole self-improvement deal. At first I thought being thinner and slimmer are all the essence of the so called “physically in the top form”. Well, it isn’t. What a letdown.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">So next on my self-improvement checklist now is “make jaws bigger to balance the awfully <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">big</i> teeth”. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">I figured the best chance for me to develop muscles around my mouth, other than <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">you-know-what</i>, was to do a lot of ‘hippo-cising’ a.k.a mouth exercising/training. Meaning, when I eat, drink, or yawn (practically every time I open my mouth) I take it to the extreme. I open my mouth as wide as possible and repeat the move with reckless abandon. (</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Tahoma;"><b>Warning</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">: small kids probably <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">still</i> wouldn’t come near you)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">It isn’t so bad. In fact I really enjoy this, but it’s a long way to go.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">Feeling the snugness of my mouth and the increasing tightness of my face, I could hear the unmistakable melody of the training music from 'Rocky' soaring through my head.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;">If only the other areas of my life were as effortless………..</span></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-12616756309935632312011-01-14T13:42:00.005+08:002011-01-14T20:51:36.689+08:00The Unwavering Truth<p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Yeah, I think you know who I am. Big guy. Fun. Light-hearted. Full of jokes. I consider myself a star and live in sort of “Mus-Land” where I see the world through ‘the Mus Lens.”</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">That's right. I'm Mr. I’m-Gonna-Live-Forever. And therefore, I am void of any real emotion.</span></p><p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">But now, after few trips to the reality hole they called it hospitals, which you can find these “real emotions” abundantly; I began to think, “Maybe I have indeed lived in my own little world”. It got my buried conscience all riled up.</span></p><p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">And let me tell you why.</span></p><p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">For the entire part of my life so far, I never have had to deal with the “ultimate truth of life” – Death. I still got all the numbers of the people that I most care about in the speed dial and I go about my daily life pushing the idea that every single one of them bursting with health, that they can still beat 5 guys at one time.</span></p><p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">So when 3 days before New Year, I received a call from my brother saying my aunt has had passed away. It shocked me to the core. I kept saying to everybody, <i>“….but I just saw her last week!”</i> But none of that feeble stunned reaction could even compare to those of who were much closer to her, especially her sons.</span></p><p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">I had to witness first hand how the people around her; that loved her very much, dealt with the untimely lost. I tried my hardest to understand and to feel how they felt but I guess it was unfair of me to be pretending like that. I could never totally match up to the sheer numbness of actually losing your mother, or parents, for that matter, unexpectedly.</span></p><p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">Now speaking about unexpectedly; last Wednesday I visited a friend, who was out of the sudden diagnosed with stage 4, pancreas cancer - only months after involved in a freak accident. I was devastated. Seeing her in that terrible condition, with such a horrible twist of cruel fate, made me all choked up and speechless.</span></p><p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">Reaching for her hands, I immediately realized my own ‘deficiency’. I didn’t know what to say or emote. In my head, I was thinking, ‘Do I look grim?’, ‘Do I smile?’, ‘What’s appropriate thing to say?’ It was so awkward and embarrassing. At the end, I just kept my trap shut. Maybe I did utter a single quip about ‘being strong or something’, through gritted teeth. Truth is I was hard-pressed to find a single word to express how or what exactly I felt.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"> I always had my full denial mode turned on whenever I couldn't face the bleak truth. </span></p><p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">I know I need a lot of growing up to do. But slowly yet surely, I will come to the point of realization that this life is, in fact, grim and surviving in this world is serious business. It is ridden with surprises and certainties.</span></p><p style="margin-top:3.75pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:18.0pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">And it cannot hide the fact that ‘this isn’t my land, and in this part of the world, I am not the star and I’ll be proven wrong and disappointed, time and time again’. </span></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-26335727138187789992011-01-09T20:37:00.004+08:002011-01-09T21:05:42.548+08:00The List<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:11.0pt;">Urgh</span></i><span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:11.0pt;">, it’s been a year already, hasn’t it?! Another day, another decade, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">another era</i> just passed by and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">dayyum</i>, I feel like my <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">entire</i> youth just went out the window. Just like that.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:11.0pt;"></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:11.0pt;">That’s it.</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Today I am going to dedicate a whole post on the very thing that bothers me as much as that New Year’s Eve Fireworks a.k.a “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">weapon of mass pollutions”</i> every year; <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">please</i>, the much-obligated <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">New Year’s Resolutions.</b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Wait, I know what you think. It may sound tiresome. You might already heard this a thousand times before, whether it was from me, your whining conscience or even <i>heck</i>, your dusty ol’ diary you specially bought last January just for this goddamn list of things-I-should-do/achieve-this-year that never quite take off. But did it ever stop me or anyone else from keep trying year in, year out? Never. So suck it. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Anyway, we are already into the second week of 2011 and trust me by now, half of the people who obsessed about the freaking resolutions have all forgotten about them and another half probably would have died trying or simply, well<i>,</i> just died. So I figured this would be the best time for me to start anew.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">I got myself a pen and a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">ehem</i>, dusty diary and get the juice flowing. And <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">bam</i>, before I even knew it, I had 67 ‘things’ on my resolution list. <i>Ha</i>! Talk about high achiever!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Then I regressed and asked myself;</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:11.0pt;">How the hell did my life come to this point where I feel so unhappy and bitter?</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Easy peasy. I have been a one big ungrateful whining baby all along - always took things for granted. I mean, what else would explain that?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">My throat felt a little dry.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">I went over the list once more, and decided to group all the wish-me-luck lists into fewer big ones. And at the end of this seemingly an eternity process, I finally managed to whittle it down to basically only 6. These ultimate 2011 resolutions are based on the notion that they all must be measurable and attainable <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">to me</i>. Yeap, the key words here are “measurable” and “attainable”, which means something that I know I can (hopefully) achieve or have the slightest of chance of succeeding.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">And<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">voila (drum roll, please!)</i> it was all coming down to this:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1)</span></span></b><span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></b></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Lose 17.4 kg by 1 of December.</span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2)</span></span></b><span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></b></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Update blog at least once a week.</span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">3)</span></span></b><span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></b></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Read at least one book a month.</span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">4)</span></span></b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Join Toastmaster group by 1 of June</span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">5) </span></span></b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Sign up at least one certification program by 1 of December (TD, HR, IR)</span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">6)</span></span></b><span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></b></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Clear debts.</span></span></b> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:11.0pt;">Of course I am not stupid anymore and I have learned from my past 12 years of approximately 102 failed resolutions, I need to have a plan, or rather an action plan on how am I going to “make ‘em my b***h” . Okay, that is still work in progress.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:11.0pt;">I also decided to give these brand new resolutions a little push by sharing them all here publicly. I wanted the world to know because I think I would then take it more seriously. People can see, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">you </i>can see the list, and the moment I slack off or fell off the wagon, you can just whip my ass. I promise, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">ehem</i>, I won’t whip your ass back. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">Okay, No. 2 checked!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:15px;">See, it’s not that hard! I am off to a great start.</span></p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763925521402746053.post-20801208054821063792011-01-04T00:37:00.004+08:002011-01-04T00:50:26.246+08:00Change Gon' Come<p class="MsoNormal"><b>SMS</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">Sender: <b>Herman</b> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Received: 11:47:47 am Today</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">‘Friendly’ Reminder: Dear Blog Owner, your last update was 15</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> of December. Your standard operating procedure for blog update is 14 days or less. As of date, we have not received any blog update from you. Kindly be notified. Thank you. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>Reply:</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sorry mate, truly, truly sorry. I’ve had a life-changing couple of days and keep up with my blog hasn’t been top of the agenda. Just one of the many reasons I am feeling terribly guilty. And deeply, deeply shamed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Oh, and deeply freaking relieved in a glad-to-be-alive kinda way too. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You’ll want the full story, I suppose, but it’ll have to wait till we meet again (and trust me, we WILL meet again). It’s <i>wayy</i> too raw for this page. You need to be able to smell the tears.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In an admittedly lame attempt to make things up to you, I’ll say, starting this year, I am a changed man. No more bad food, no debts, no ‘DJ’, no more hates, no more DRAMAS, no nothing that would remind you of the old me. Time has changed, and as the wise man says, so should we. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yeah, yeah, I know I’ve said it before. Countless times. But this time, I MEAN it. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Right now I can see you’re rolling your eyes towards the back of your skull, but that’s alright. I guess that’s why they invented New Year’s resolutions, so friends can say “I told ya!” to another friend when they screw <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">all </i>their resolutions by February. <i>Ha!</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Shit, I’d better sign off before I screw the resolution No. 4. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">See you before you know it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>PS</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I trust you’re having excellent New Year. I know I am. That being the case, I decided to gather my thoughts on the year ahead and I can’t wait to see you and tell you all about it. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>PSS</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve come to realize that, actually, this year I am gonna be 3*! OMG!!!!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>PSSS</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Next time one of the f****r asks me if I <i>remember</i> the days when Whitney Houston wasn’t a crack whore I’ll floor him. Or her, I don’t care. </p>Mus The Greathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04663254648583727884noreply@blogger.com1