Archive for January, 2004

January 31, 2004

“The Last Samurai” (2003)

*spoiler warning*

Watched The Last Samurai last night. I don’t know, I just didn’t seem to enjoy that movie at all. I think it was very cheesy. Compared to battle themed movies like Braveheart… or The Messenger… this flick did not even register a notch in my book of impression.

The plot was downright preposterous. The fake blood looked too fake. Bullets ricocheted like catapult marbles. The battle scene looked like a B grade effect (seriously, Ultraman even scored better than this). The acting sucks too. Goddamn it… just avoid this movie at all cost.

I particularly felt bad about the last part… where Tom Cruise were being shot at by a 400 rounds per minute machine gun, fell from a full speed running horse, and yet, he was still able to perform a harakiri for his pervert-looking samurai buddy. That was just so fucking ridiculous. HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD FROM THE MACHINE GUN SHOTS, IF NOT FROM THE FALL FROM THE HORSE!!

And after all the drama in the battle scene, and lost real hard in the battle, I thought the enemy would actually kill Tommy the invincible fake samurai when he was captured, or at least, torture the shit out of him for being such pain in the ass. But no. Instead, we have the entire platoon of carrot heads bowing them in deep respect (after the long battle and so many deaths)… What the fuck. A total crap.

And then, if it’s still not bad enough, the enemies would groom Tom Cruise and put him back into his captain uniform, and let him meet the emperor… just so that the emperor would be impressed with his pretentious bushido spirit… and to pave a way for him to foil the evil tyrant’s plan to make Japan a country ‘that forgot who they are’. And with that, our Tom Cruise will become a hero in his own way… where he will eventually forget himself, and ride a horse back to the remote village to screw the Japanese girl who used to hate him so much (because Tom killed her husband in a battle).

A complete crap. Like I said, avoid this movie at all cost.

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January 30, 2004


Emily’s father – my father in law – is a very nice guy. I am a very nice guy too. But for some strange reason, we don’t seem to be able to get along naturally. You see, every time when I go to Emily’s hometown to meet her father, our conversation will just be limited to 3 topics, and each will in turn, be sub-limited to only 1 or 2 sentences. 3 the most.

1) standard greetings
2) work schedule
3) weather report

Here is an example of how our conversation’s like…

Father In Law (FIL) : “Just arrived?”
[this is his trademark standard greeting]

Me : “Yes, just arrived. Lots of traffic.”
[this is my trademark reply]

Standard greeting – check.

F.I.L : “Not working today?”
[apparently, he always has an impression that I’m a workaholic, which is so untrue…]

Me : “Oh, we’re not required to work on weekends.”
[I have been telling him the same thing for the past few years]

F.I.L : “Work only 5 days a week?”
[he will ask the same thing if we meet again]

Me : “Yes, that’s why I’m free to visit”
[again… my trademark reply]

Work schedule – check.

This will be followed by an approximate 20 seconds pause and I will then make a futile attempt to revive the conversation,

Me : “Hot weather huh? Not much rain lately?”

F.I.L : “Hit by dry spell for weeks. What about Penang?”

Me : “Same old same old. Only rains occasionally. Not any much cooler.”

Weather report – check.

And that’s about it. The 3 main important topics.

It’s pathetic I know. And it has been like this for the past few years. I just do not know how to have a natural conversation with him, like I’m with my buddies. Maybe I’m just not that good with old people.

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January 29, 2004

the envelope II

I walked from the crowded carpark towards the restaurant. There were no stars up on the sky that night. The only thing the illuminated my path was the lonely street light there… and the bunch of blinking neon lights of the restaurant’s.

I promptly took out my handkerchief to wipe off the excess sweat on my forehead — the long sleeved D&G shirt was too hot for me. Then I suddenly stopped right before the carpet with a big “Welcome” word on it. My legs were like, numb. Or paralyzed. Whatever. I just can’t move my legs to walk into the place. I stood there and feeling like shit. Do I really want to go in there? Do I really want to make myself look like a fool? I wasn’t sure, I kept reassuring myself that it would be just another wedding dinner that I had attended many times before.

I took a deep breath, and finally made an entrance, with the sparkling envelope in my hand. There was a female reception right at the entrance, the one that was given the task to register guests and collecting gifts. I recognized that girl. It was her moron cousin, Chu-La. Other than her 34C cup tits, there is basically nothing worth to be impressed about that Chu-La. I quickly passed her the envelope and gave her a big red angpow with a written congratulatory message on it.

But I did not put money in it as we’re all customized to do. Instead, I put in some spam pamphlets, brochures & leaftlets that I had collected from my mailbox for the past 1 week. That was for breaking my heart. She does not deserve a single cent for leaving me. If she wants to get anything more worth of me, she refer the brochures herself for discounts.

I slowly walked through the crowded restaurant, table after tables of happy guests at the wedding banquet. My emotion was mixed, with both hatred and nostalgia as I was walking in. I felt as if I’ve lost a ground to stand on… and the very reason to live. In the midst of that melancholic drift… I tripped on a folded portion of the stupid carpet and had me landed hard onto the floor. Great, just great, I thought.

Just as I was getting up from the embarrassing episode, I noticed someone coming towards me. It was her… effervescent in her wedding night dress…

“Are you alright… mike ?”
“I’m ok… physically. But mentally, I’m scarred for life”
“Oh… don’t say that mike. It’s just that we’re not fated to be together…”
“You left me for someone else. That’s not fate, that’s being fucked.”
“Ok… I left you .. but that was a long time ago. You should have moved on…”
“You were the one who brought it up first.”
“Ok… [smacks head]. I’m just glad that you came to my wedding tonight”
“And you looked good in this D&G shirt I bought for you…”
“Yeah… it would have been perfect if it’s made of a much thinner fabric…” [wipes sweat from forehead again]

I don’t know why I did not scream at her out of my demented state of mind right at that very moment. Maybe she was too drop dead gorgeous in her evening gown that night — and got me hypnotized all over again. I stretched out my hand and offered her a congratulation and decided to leave the place for good, not because I was such a drama queen but because… the food there didn’t look appetizing at all.

I then proceed to a nearby 24 hours curry rice stall for some serious hoovering… and started my life as a brand new person.


*I’ve been very free in the office this afternoon… as my company is preparing for it’s quarter end this week. So, I tried to look busy in front of my PC by writing something out of nothing at all. Again, this is a pure fabrication… don’t take it seriously*

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Libra : Denise & Kelv

*Circa 1992. I was 15 then, working as an intern in an advertising firm called Libra.*

The workshop that I was working in was situated at top most floor of the building and had 2 staircases leading up to it. One being the main staircase, and another secret staircase (which was off-limit to everyone) directly linked from the boss’ office.

The boss and his first wife (Miss Wong) would use that secret staircase to pay us surprise visits from time to time. And we would be damned if caught shirking off inside the workshop. Of course, that never happened before… that was because we had eyeeeesss around the premise. Alright, that was the introduction of the secret staircase. Here comes the main plot.

The boss also had a son and 2 younger daughters. His son was alright. The guy would snuck up to the workshop from time to time to romp around with us. But the boss’ daughters on the other hand, were the complete opposite. We fucking hated both of them. The elder one, Denise, was about 1 – 2 years my junior (about 13 yrs old), while the younger one, ….. let’s not bother about her. You see, Denise was a fat and fugly creature, with a bad attitude to boot with. If she sees us shirking, she will go all out to complain to her mongoloid father… the boss. That was why, our ring of cronies inside that workshop never actually liked anyone from that Wong family (except the son).

After I started work at Libra for about 2 weeks, my fat cousin brother – Kelv – joined the company. Just like myself, he worked as an intern in that workshop and we had a great time working together.

One very hot afternoon, all of us decided to take our shirts off to bear with the sweltering heat. The idea was unfavorable to Kelv as he didn’t really like the idea of showing too much of his doughy physique overtly like that. But he was left with no choice, as it was freaking hot in there… After dawdling for a while, he couldn’t take any more abuse from all of us… he finally took off his shirt like a man.

But Kelv was kinda worried about the idea of Denise storming into the workshop, you know, he didn’t want her to see him shirtless like that. I guess he was too embarrassed about his body or something. So, he gave us an order, if we see Denise coming up from the secret staircase, give him a hoot – he’ll dress the fuck up. We’re like, alright man, don’t worry about it, continue to do your work or something.

Fast forward a few moments later, we actually heard some footsteps coming up from that secret staircase. Johnson peeked over from the top and saw Denise on her way up from below. Kelv was busy working on something and was completely unaware about her coming. That was when Johnson suggested we keep quiet about it and see how the encounter turns out. So we hid ourselves and peeped at the whole incident in hiding. The anticipation grew as Denise ascended near where Kelv was happily working on his stuff… and some of us were already suppressing ourselves from laughing…

When Denise came into the workshop, she started wondering where did everyone go. Hearing noise from where Kelv worked, she sauntered over to ask him about us. That was when Kelv had the fright of his life. He actually shrieked (it was like “Eeeeiiaaaaiii !!”) and dashed into a nearby storeroom… slammed the door shut and locked it like he was being chased by a gay werewolf. Somewhat startled, Denise went to the locked storeroom door, knocked and asked him what the hell was wrong with him. With a terrified voice, Kelv bleated “go away! go away!” from inside.

The rest of us were just laughing and having stomach cramps. It was definitely a day that Kelv will remember for the rest of his life… and I haven’t seen him take off his shirt in public ever again.

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I was having breakfast with Blackie and Doug this morning, and we were discussing something about the recent chicken flu panic. In the discussion, I remarked – that no matter what the temp is, as long as we cook the meat thoroughly everytime, any microorganism that dwells in the meat will surely be killed and the risk greatly reduced. But Blackie disagreed. He said that he ‘knew’ of a kind of bacteria that only can be killed at 110 deg C… which means… if we cook our food… it will not die – because our food cooks at 100 deg C.

I had to lambaste that undeveloped brain of his.

“what makes you think our food cooks at only 100 deg C?”
“because water boils at 100.”
“water boils at 100 and our food also cooks at that temp?”
“yes. And that bacteria i was referring to, won’t die.”
“and you only cook your food with water? nothing else? salt? soy sauce? sugar?”
“did u know that the boiling temperature increases when there are impurities in your water ?”
“damn it… did u fail your science ?”
*furious* “ok… maybe more than 100 deg C… but definitely not over 110 deg C…”

I gave up on him. I don’t feel like arguing with a loser like him. Since he claimed he ‘knew’ the bacteria, he’s probably referring to a good friend of his. Hint: water with PLENTY OF SALT, could boil VERY MUCH HIGHER than 100 deg C.

On the side note, I wonder what’s the fuss about the chicken flu. 8 deaths and they are already making it an international headline. Fuck. There are thousands of cancer deaths related to smoking each year… and it’s ironic why they didn’t create a commotion this big already…

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