Archive for November, 2003

November 27, 2003


Damn pigdogs. You know pigdogs? In English… they are known as rustic bumpkins or hillbillies. In chinese, they are sometimes also known as ‘ah bengs‘.

Typical Asian pigdogs are often sported with blond hair (dyed), a mobile phone that has more lights than a casino and a face only their mother could love. And for those pigdogs who can afford a car, they can be easily recognized with a muffler big enough to fit the girth of an adult bolster.

I met one pigdog just now, when I was returning home from dinner. I was stopping for a red light at a 1-lane turn junction. Then came this pigdog, shoving his car from the side. That really ticked me off. Like, why can’t he just queue up for the red light just like everyone else?

His stupid car has got this big fucking muffler and I could hear like it was right next to my ear even thought I had all my windows rolled up tight. It was annoying.

When the light turns green, I quickly floored my accelerator & charged the fucker to the corner, which forced him to pull behind my car. I then deliberately drove like negative 50 kph, slow enough to aggravate his volatile miniscule mind, which he predictably responded with a honk. I then allowed him some space to overtake me but he wasn’t skillful enough to pull that maneuver. Instead, he chose to tailgate me like, real close. Must be half a foot or something.

A little while later, when the street clears wider, he finally managed to muster enough guts to overtake my car, but not for long – for I did a shortcut and was back in front of him. I then pulled another slow stunt, I did even slower in front of him this time. He started to get really pissed off I could tell, because he was frantically honking non-stop and tailgated my car even closer.

Then, I pulled the final shocker. I stepped on my brakes real hard, almost at the verge of stopping. That actually caught pigdog by surprise and he hadn’t got enough time to react. That was when he swung his wheels to the opposite side of the road, almost hitting the pavement. I stopped my car entirely with my hands ready to grab my steering lock (to swing at his car in case he decided to come out for an altercation).

But luckily he didn’t. Instead, he fled the scene like he knew that he’s in for a rough time if he was to come out from his stupid car. And while I was gazing triumphantly at that fleeing shit ugly car, I was astonished to spot a little ‘P’ sticker on his rear screen. That explained the spasticity. What a moron.

*to non-malaysian readers, a ‘P’ sticker on a car in Malaysia means that the driver is still in the probational period of a learner’s license and is required to exhibit that ‘P’ sticker on their car screen for at least 2 years… before he was to be granted a real driving license. Ergo, if you see a car with a ‘P’ sticker around, get the fuck out of there…

michaelooi  | traffic shit  | Comments Off

let out session ..

I woke up feeling like shit all over this morning. I felt so darn sleepy. Actually, I felt pretty much the same every morning except weekends, but today was exceptional. Why? It was because I knew I’m not going to have a good night sleep frin tomorrow onwards.

Emily’s sisters are coming to Penang tomorrow. Well, her sisters are actually ok for me, but it is their kids that are not ok. That’s right, 2 sisters, 2 nieces and 2 nephews. I will probably be thrilled to have so many kids around if I were Michael Jackson. But this is Michael Ooi here. This Michael, isn’t too fond of have little people running around.

Tonight will be for me to do some major housekeeping around. I will have to keep all my harddisks… cables… modems … and other computer gadgets. You can imagine myself like preparing for a war, everything will have to be stowed away for safety. Not those little bastards’ safety but, more for my stuff. My floor will also be littered with rice and pukes… and I’m also in for a risk of having my sofa wrecked again. Like what Charles did months ago.

And then, I also will be worrying about my car. Emily will be driving them around the town with my car. That’s because our family only owns one car. I already started to imagine the kids jumping up and down inside my car and stress my absorbers to the limit. And they will not hesitate to practice their footprinting art work on my cushions and screens. My car will be stressed to its mechanical limit and over, like there’s not going to be another tomorrow. And without the car, I will have to stay at home by myself… no clubbing, no movies and plenty of worries.

That’s why I am feeling like shit all over. It is because I know I am fucked for the weekend. [sigh]

michaelooi  | rantings  | Comments Off
November 26, 2003

super heavy duty

“Where have you been these few days?? You think this house is a hotel aa ?” — that’s what my mom used to shout at me when I spent more time outside than inside, only to return home to sleep. That was many years ago when I was still a juvenile (though I have to admit that I virtually still am now). It happened again a few days ago. No… not my mom shouting, but me busy going out with friends. It started on Monday 24th November:

Monday 24 November

8.00 am – working as usual

3.00 pm – the guys called. movie tonight. plan was set.

5.00 pm – went home to take a bath and got ready to go out again.

7.45 pm – went for my physiotherapy session.

8.40 pm – finally my turn to start the physio after waiting for more than 40 minutes. Damn physiotherapist… but the nurse on duty there was kinda cute.

9.50 pm – the actual physiotherapy took only 30 mins but it lasted about an hour because the physiotherapist was attending to several patients all at the same time. Apparently, sports injury in Penang is more popular than Linkin Park. But I was cool about it because of the cute nurse.

10.00 pm – Arrived at the cinema parking lot. The place was 25 minutes away but it only took me 10 minutes to arrive. I was speeding like bat out of hell.

10.05 pm – My front tire looked abnormal. It was supposed to be round. Figured that it had a puncture after a few test pokes. Tire was pierced by a big long fucking nail. Shouldn’t have blogged about changing a punctured tire 2 weeks ago. Taboos are real.

10.06 pm – Decided to worry about the puncture later. Went ahead to meet the guys up first to find out which movie were we watching. It was “Brother Bear”.

10.20 pm – Went back to the parking lot. Burned a few thousand calories changing that flat fucking tire. Soaked with sweat as car park was musty and poorly ventilated. Got it done in 15mins.

11.30 pm – “Brother Bear” started screening. Wasn’t too impressed but, it was alright. Could’ve been better with more fight scenes / gore.

Tuesday 25 November

1.40 am – Back at home. Took a bath… went to sleep. Freaking tired.

11.30 am – Woke up. No wet dreams. Not working – Raya holiday.

12.30 pm – Went to the mechanic and had my flat tire fixed. Serviced my car as well.

2.30 pm – Mechanic told me my punctured tire was beyond help. It was fucked. Suggested to change the tires or live with a high risk getting it flat again.

2.35 pm – I took 5 minutes to think about it and decided to have all my tires changed.

3.30 pm – Car was done and paid the bill. The bill came up to about 500. I was literally broke.

4.00 pm – The guys called again and suggested shopping. Plan was set. Going to lug Emily along.

5.00 pm – Emily started her shopping session with the girls. Me and the BOD were tagging behind. God I hate shopping with girls.

8.00 pm – The girls were still not done with their shopping. My legs were at the brink of exploding.

8.30 pm – The girls were finally done with their shopping after our constant complaining. Somebody then suggested dinner at a seafood restaurant.

9.00 pm – Arrived at the seafood restaurant. The place sucked and everything was expensive. Lots of stray dogs there. Worst dinner I ever had in months.

10.00 pm – Hung out at a cafe. Had some dessert food to cover up the bad seafood dinner earlier.

2.00 am – Back home to sleep again. Super freaking tired.

And today, I had to wake up at 8am to go to work. When I woke up, my eyelids were heavy… can’t get it to open. I am virtually drifting out and about as of now. I seriously can’t take such shit any longer. Evident of age catching up…

michaelooi  | rompings  | Comments Off
November 24, 2003

unexpected experiences

There was once a friend send me a URL while I was shirking around the office. Thinking that it might be something of interest, I clicked at the URL without giving much thought. It was a flash site, and not long after it started loading, a scene of a cartoonish old woman appeared… and then it happened.

All out of a sudden, my speaker blasted out this ‘ketchup song’ loud. It went like, “Le je… Le je…” or something, and the granny started to do some really absurd hand flailing dance on my screen (full screen). The most unfortunate thing was, I had this Altec Lansing home theater system hooked up on my office table, and as a result of that, half the office actually heard what was going on in my cube.

For a second or two, I didn’t know what to do. I was literally stunned. And then panic sets in, and I was fumbling to find a way to close the fucking thing from doing further damage. But because I was panicking, nothing seemed to work. The ketchup song would continue to pump out loud through the entire office floor. Curious heads started to pop up from cubes to see who was sledgehammering the office with a loud-fucking-speaker… I continued to look for ways to end the whole thing and finally, decided to unplug my Altec Lansing speaker to stop the whole disastrous episode from jeopardizing my career.

And there it was… the granny… still doing her ketchup dance on my screen, with sounds unplugged. But the damage had already been done. Some of my colleagues were already annoyed… while some were laughing at my ass off for being such a dolt. My reputation went down a few notches after that day. But then, I was very grateful, now that I think that the situation could have been worse. If it was porn that I was loading, and the noise projected out from my speaker were to be pornstars moaning in climax… I would have lost my fucking job right away.

Hate it when things like this happens. Sites with intrusive sounds. Man those shit should be made illegal. They make our lives difficult.

michaelooi  | experiences  | Comments Off
November 22, 2003

knee checkup

My ailing knee is getting worse and I finally went for another checkup today. The physiotherapist recommended for an MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) scan, as he suspected that I might have a torn ligament. I was about to tell him that my pocket’s torn too, and if this is going to cost me a leg, then I might as well live with the ailing knee. But before I could tell him that, he told me of a good news – that both the scan and treatment are fully claimable with my medical insurance.

Since I do not have to pay a single cent, I agreed to go for the scan. I had to travel to another location in town to do it.

Once I was inside the MRI clinic, I was greeted by 2 young nurses. One of the nurses, gave me a set of verbal questionnaire prior the scan. I was made to answer all sorts of questions – am I a smoker? did I pierce my body parts? do I have earrings or any metal parts inside my body? And of course, all my answers were ‘No’. But the nurse kept repeating the ‘body piercing’ question, as if she couldn’t believe that I’m clean. Maybe I looked like a punk to her. Whatever.

Then I was led into a room where the other nurse asked me to change to a green robe. The green robe was the type where you’re to wear it by slotting in through the front. Like a semi-poncho or something. And I looked ridiculous with that thing on. I looked like a dolt in it, especially with a shower cap on (yes, they made me wear a shower cap as well). I was then ushered towards a small room, and while I was walking along the long corridor, I heard some giggling behind me. I was the nurses. They’re laughing at me from behind, probably because my ass was exposed from behind (the stupid robe)… It was humiliating (now that I think of it, I should have ripped a badass fart right then)

Once I was in the MRI scan room, I was asked to lie down on a flat table and had my leg strapped like I was about to be raped or something. Once the strap was secured, I was electrically conveyed into a machine that resembled a giant coffee maker. Once I was inside there, the doctor bellowed through the microphone to ask me “Stop moving or your scan will be affected”. I wasn’t even moving, I was strapped… remember? I had to lie down very still for 40 minutes, half naked and it was cold. My nipples were rock hard and my strapped leg was numb. For the first time in my life, I felt like a lab rat… all for that stupid knee.

Well, fast forward an hour later, I finally got out of there and got the result. The scan revealed that my knee suffered some kind of condition called ‘plica syndrome’ (no it’s not a form of retardation you motherfucking cheebye). The doctor tried to explain in detail to me but I could not register anything at all. So, the layman term that I would use to describe my knee is – a fucked up knee that doesn’t need no surgery. And that’s good enough for me. I just need to take some medication and follow 10 sessions of physiotherapy to make it well again.

But it means nothing much to me. All I wanted was a good night sleep. The knee had caused enough sleepless night for me… and if this doesn’t work, I’m gonna have to fucking die.

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