05 May 2005 1:55 p.m. i watched Hotel Rwanda at the AEI last night (it's a damn good movie, who gives a shit if it won't be screened in malaysia because it "won't attract film-goers") and some things just bug me more than others. for instance, the voiceover in the beginning of the movie states that the "Tutsi are cockroaches", which basically sets the tone of the show; and you're supposed to think "oh shit, the Tutsis are gonna get the living shit kicked out of them and then some". unfortunately, many members of the audience thought it was funny. the same thing happened when Paul Rusesabagina was yelling at General Bizimungu not to be an ass about the situation ("are you an ass?!"), and the audience tittered. you could blame it on the low-brow comedies that use profanity in place of wit (there's a fine line between Chris Rock and, erm... the rest), but dammit do so few people know about context or what? don't even get me started on the people who cluck disapprovingly at the scenes of Hutus murdering the Tutsis. true story - Sally (a labmate) watched Bloody Sunday with us and, when asked her opinion, said, "oh... it was interesting. the middle part was a bit boring, but the fighting at the end was so exciting!" dear Gareth, please install a popcorn machine in the lobby and be done with it, thanks. so i'm a scholarship recipient. so i'm supposed to get a cheque for allowance or something. so Olivia and i hear nothing from the unit of sponsored research after submitting our agreement forms. so our finances are dwindling (i can afford Bleed Like Me by eating Ramlee burgers, Olivia lives in fear of being turned out into the streets if she can't pay her rent). so i take time out from the nice lady at the counter says i should have received a letter from the finance department by now (i didn't). so i go the the finance department. i collect my cheque (no i ain't telling you how much is on it. but i'll see y'all for lunch one day or something). attached to the cheque is THE LETTER they're supposed to have sent. except that it's attached to the cheque, right, so they couldn't send it. how the hell is anyone supposed to know how things are run here?! p.s. - this was yesterday. Olivia went to get her cheque today but was told they didn't have it. wtf UM?
one last thing
manage thisgoofing off work and go to the said unit and make an enquiry.
i am not an ageist
one should never wear low-rider trousers with granny panties, even if you're only in in your late twenties. that is all.
there's probably nothing that can compare to eating a Ramlee/Ramly* burger and listening to the new album from Garbage. i bought the burger in question from a stall called LAN (haha). it's scandalously small but tastes disgustingly, dirtily good. it must be the secret sauce he uses that makes it so luscious, but it could be barbeque sauce. or maybe pepper. it's the first time i've seen carrots on that sort of burger too. or on any burger.
so, as i was saying about Garbage - everyone should save up money and get Bleed Like Me. i love imagining Shirley peering out of the gloom at me with with her insane green eyes and singing about a Bad Boyfriend. madam, i love you, but it's a fearful sort of love.
*a brand of burger patties sold here - burgers containing the said patties are usually sold at roadside stalls. it's so popular that Singapore won't let it through immigration (honest!) and fast food outlets have probably formed a consortium barring it from shopping malls because it costs 3 times less and is worth more chew for your gut. can you believe it - they have no website.
02 May 2005 11:51 a.m.dilemma
i don't know that to think when i see a middle-aged woman walking around in a hot pink t-shirt, through which her black bra is visible; that squeezes her belly into rolls of fat that spill over the waist of her denim cutoffs - should i applaud her amazing confidence, or cringe and wonder when her last eye/colour coordination exam took place?
30 April 2005 9:26 p.m.common sense part 43256
this is why you shouldn't ever teach your children to read -
they'll start thinking on their own and get all sorts of ideas, and eventually they'll overthrow your already fragile authority and decide they don't have to feed themselves at dinner.
when that happens, mommy and daddy will have to develop new skills to maintain their relevance in the new order. see how well dad balances his spectacles on his forehead? i notice their faces are somewhat hidden, which points to an unrealised, subconcious shame over their subjugation. i think i'll pass on the impregnation.
in the news (stop me if you've heard this before) - aguysite.blogspot.com :: patrickdevon.blogspot.com.
and - a damn sneaky (yet totally legal) way to get your paper published even after it's been rejected has some implications. that article might get archived, so print it out or something.
also - this = MINE.
crap, the more i surf, the more stuff i find to put up.
29 April 2005 11:06 p.m.
shorts: a series
all the George Michael in the world can't pay for the books you want to buy from the Times' bookstore sale.
it's not very big or clever or funny when "radio announcers" talk over the beginning and ending of a song you like. it's worse when they start talking over what they think is the ending of a song. it's horribler when your tape player is still broken (yes, i'm that lazy).
we overheard this at the KL international bookfest a few days ago - "do you have the Da Vinci Code?" i think it's pretty damn funny when you know that the booths are run by different publishing houses and that the said book is published by Doubleday, which is in turn a part of Random House.
i also somehow managed to get myself a membership card to the national library. their booth had a couple of touch screen things set up. everyone was allowed to fiddle with them and feel nifty about themselves in the process.
mum has gone to the pub to get crabs. IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE, I SWEAR.
i was greedy at both book fairs. i called mum twice to check if i'd bought a certain title, and now i'm pretty broke. but you can't say no to Palahniuk and Fitzgerald wat!
i lied about the shorts.
there isn't any hot gay anal sex to be found here either, so googlers will be disappointed.
i think i'll go lie down.
21 April 2005 12:49 p.m.why i like reading National Geographic
readers share their thoughts and opinions in an honest and forthright manner (yes, i really have nothing to say right now because i'm still still recovering from my loss) -
"... when i look at my three beautiful children, it is hard to believe they are the result of evolving Eocene pond scum.my father-in-law, on the other hand, may be the evidence you've been looking for."
21 April 2005 11:33 a.m.
what the?! motherfuckingboards.
i can estimate how long i've been online by the number of unread mailers i've recevied from HolyMoly. i guess it's been about 20 days now.
did you know that blog-worthy things just can't help coming along like magic if one doesn't religiously update her blog? for instance, i came home on wednesday evening; mum told me that the shoes kept in the shoe cabinet had been stolen.
yes, i know, why in the world do we keep our shoe cabinet outside when you can't trust anyone these days?
A: because we don't expect those leaflet-delivery boys to stroll in and help themselves, the fuckers. the irony is that the new neighbour is carrying out renovations on his house and his workers said they didn't see anything. i believe them because they're nowhere to be found at lunch-time. the new neighbour himself has lost a RM400 potted plant and nearly had a pair of gardening shears stolen once -
him: hey you kid, put those back!
kid/would-be thief: oh... i thought you didn't want 'em anymore.
him: wtf...
anyway, i went out again right after that, so the fact that i'd lost my very cool-to-the-point-where--the-existence-of-all-other-shoes-is-pointless black and grey adidas prajna sneakers only dawned on me about 6 hours later, when i got home for the second time. i know, i'm slow, and now i'm feeling very hollow and empty.
(redundant refrain: I'M FEELING HOLLOW AND EMPTY INSIDE OF ME)
i don't if you remember those shoes, Suze, but i wore them nearly every day to class as an undergrad. i switched to converse cos my ol' faithfuls were showing signs of age and i wanted to use them for holidays and stuff but that will never be now - they'll be an unloved, abused pair of cool shoes on the feet of some undeserving little urchin.
i feel like driving up and down the streets during the time leaflets are distributed to houses in TTDI and checking out the delivery boys' shoes. and then -
*spots her shoes and pulls up alongside thief/wearer of stolen goods*
me: hallo, kasut banyak cantik! mana beli? **
git: *runs*
me: *shoots him in the back*
i mean, it's one thing to steal the guaves off the tree in my garden, but my shoes cost me money wat i earned on my own, you fucking sumbitches!
on the bright side -
adidas Warehouse Sales 2005 is coming!Here are the details:
Venue : adidas Warehouse in Shah Alam
Date : Thursday, 28 April 2005 to Sunday, 1 May 2005 (4 days)
also, we have more space in the house now, so more shopping, yeay.
** nice shoes, where'd you get 'em?
21 April 2005 11:15 a.m.ehwot
i've had no internet access for 2 days and all i can think to write is how Chris Cornell seems to be going for Bono-style vocals on Audioslave's latest single. i hope he won't develop a taste for leather jackets and stick to the very tasty drawstring pants and Von Dutch tanks instead, ta v much.
well, okay, i've watched Beautiful Washing Machine. there were only about 15 of us in the cinema. i didn't understand it at all, so i must have either been totally out of my depth, or it was a situation where both the film-maker and the audience were wankerific parties in a... thing. i won't trust critics again.
(i realise this sounds similar to S.B Toh's review in today's Star Weekender, but i used wankerific first, dammit)
so i've been offline for about a week and i have 80 unread emails in one of my addresses, of which only 26 are actual readable emails. pah.
09 April 2005 6:50 p.m.some days...
dear dad,
when you wake up in the morning, please don't look at the eurosport news on tv and ask me if Jubilo Iwata is an indonesian football team, okay? okay.
have a nice day.
p.s. apparently my motherboard is menopausal.
