Archive for June, 2004

June 25, 2004

Austin – day three

Nothing special happened on day three. Went to work, eat and came back to sleep. But I’ve a few trivial pictures to share though…

I need more sleep. Will post more.

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June 24, 2004

general table manners

Let brother Michael share with you here, on certain things that you should follow when you’re eating with someone. This is from his experience of living off as a noble young man in a civilized society…
(If you’re from China and think that it is culturally acceptable to have no table manners at all when you eat, you should GO FUCK YOURSELF instead of reading this.)

– shut your mouth when you eat. It will conceal any noise from your munching actions. Nobody wants to hear how you eat. Only pigs and dogs eat with loudly like that. That is acceptable to them because they’re animals… and they don’t care. Civilized men eat with their mouth closed shut.

– when you eat, don’t shake your legs. It’s annoying. It makes your dining partner feel like eating with a giant vibrator. It’s not going to impress anyone because nobody wants to eat with a vibrator. Maybe sluts… but, not everyone’s a slut.

– don’t talk when you have food in your mouth. Because it would send micro-projectiles of mushed food either onto the table or the dish that others might want to eat. It is very unhygienic for that to happen. Nobody wants to eat your spit or see the crunched food inside your mouth. Please.

– don’t burp/belch when you’re eating. Do that in the toilet, inside the coffin 6 feet underground, or somewhere in the middle of the desert. Anywhere when you’re alone. Burp equals fart coming from your mouth. And yes they fucking stinks. Nobody likes that.

That’s as simple as it could have been. There might be a thousand more that may be too specific to some people but, these are the main ones that should cut the mustard.

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Austin – day two

4 years ago, when I was here, I went to a restaurant to whack the most unbelievably cheap steaks that money could buy. For 11 bucks eat-all-you-can, you’ll never go to Victoria Station ever again after consuming those lard laden greasy food. I ate till I was almost immobile with another Malaysian colleague.

I searched for that restaurant again today, and finally found it after making a lot of illegal U-turns. And that was how I had the plan set for dinner tonight. I told Cheecheongfun (you know, the guy from China?) that we’re gonna whack some serious food that tonight, and be prepared to get himself killed (I can’t believe I actually said that in Mandarin, you should have seen his face man).

So we went there at dinner time. The first thing that I attacked was steak. Had plenty of them… and some serious supply of meatballs. My appetite was good tonight so, I didn’t hold back. I was planning to eat a few days’ supply of food in one take.

But before I could finish my first plate, I was confronted with a problem. The acoustic level of someone eating like a pig. That’s right – Cheecheongfun was at it again. The family of blimps opposite the table of ours was kinda like checking him out. He was eating so boisterously, that I was caught in a dilemma of whether to tell him to shut up. But I was afraid that guy might feel offended and stuff, and it would be uncool to do that. I was convincing myself that maybe it is a cultural thing of having the need to eat like a pig but, I can tell you that not much people can tolerate that.

As if it wasn’t bad enough, Cheecheongfun suddenly gave out a shrill burp. More like a yelp. Gas escaping from his throat to the open air. So loud, that even he himself was dumbfucked and he had to cover his own mouth in embarrassment. You know what was his problem? The guy ate too fast… too loud… and when he gulped in a large quantity of soda, the gas had nowhere to escape but through his stinking mouth. I was lucky that there wasn’t anything came projectiling out of his mouth onto my face. I was at verge of stabbing him with my fork… but of course I didn’t. I went on eating with him… but it wasn’t as enjoyable when you’re doing it with someone disgusting.

Anyway, I was thinking of venturing for more great food this weekend at San Antonio… but with this guy tagging around, I’m not even sure if it is a good idea anymore… Kanneh…

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June 23, 2004

Austin – day one & two (day of work)

There is not a lot of beautiful people in Austin. Most of them are overweight. That is because they eat big portions of food. The diet stuff they eat alone could cause chronic cellulite, and the high fat content ones could cause instant heart attack.

But not the receptionist at the lab I was visiting though. That chick’s hot. And friendly too. She’s blond… she’s tall… and the most important of all, she has big tits. A bit saggy but, it was the right amount of sag.

And that was why I had a great day today. Especially when she bent down to help me page my host at the lobby this morning. In case any of you wondered, she did wear a bra. Too bad but, it was alright. It wasn’t hard to imagine her not wearing any.

My hosts are a bunch of great guys. The one that I was assigned to, is an avid gamer and a wave surfer from California called Dave. He wore a bermuda shorts to work this morning and is anything but serious. Another one is a biker, 6 ft something and over 300 pounds named Keith. That guy could seriously tip a full grown cow with that sheer size of his. Tells a lot of crude jokes and that guy even showed me plenty of pictures of him & buddies partying in a bike fest, complete with the boobies flashing and stuff. Another one is called Jase. Don’t know much about him because that guy’s a bit quiet than the rest but no less friendly.

During our lunch yesterday (first day), Jason asked me,

Jase : “You’ll be seeing Keith wearing his traditional attire on his upcoming cultural festival..”

Me : “Yeah? So what will he be wearing?”

Dave : “A kilt. You know what’s a kilt?”

Me : “I know. The man skirt. So you’re a Scottish Keith?”

Keith : “Yeah I’m a Scottish alright.”

Me : “Just wondering, you guys wearing anything under the kilt?”

Keith : “Nope. Absolutely nothing. Naked inside. It’s easier to do it man. Just ride over the girls, flip the kilt over ‘em, and that’s it…”

all of us : [laugh our daylights out]

A light day of work today. Came to work late… long breaks… and early dismissal. How I’d wish it is like this back home.

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Austin – day one (cheecheongfun)

I wasn’t all alone for this assignment in Texas. I was actually joined by another engineer from China – let’s call him – cheecheongfun.

The first time I met cheecheongfun, he kind of gave me a good impression about him. No he does not look like a filthy mainlander who snorts out phlegm from his nostrils every single minute at all. He’s surprisingly clean… polite and well groomed. He gave me an impression that he’s not actually from China at all… more like some university student that went there for a holiday.

That all went well, until the first day I went to work with him (which was on Monday 21st Austin time). I was told by the management to share my car with him… so, I kinda had to fetch him to work everyday. Well… I’m ok with that, it was fun to drive there anyway.

So, on Monday morning, I hopped into the rented car and cranked the engine. Cheecheongfun hopped in too… but instead of the front passenger seat, that guy hopped into the back seat (there were only 2 of us). I was like… “goddamn, wtf??”. Well, maybe it’s the culture thing – I thought… and so, I politely asked cheecheongfun to haul his ass to the front seat – and I remarked to him that I am not his driver, and it would be rude for him to ride at the backseat. He complied of course and apologized. (I told him all that in broken Mandarin as I discovered he couldn’t speak proper English…)

And then, when I started to screech down the highway (everyone’s speeding there…), I noticed that the seat belt warning light was blinking. Cheecheongfun did not wear his seat belt. Again, I politely requested him – better wear his seat belt if he wanted to live in case of any accidents. And that was the time when his eccentricity started to become more apparent – he got himself entangled with the fucking seat belt !

I was stupefied by the entire incident. It appeared that he didn’t know what’s a seat belt for… and didn’t know how to wear them… all the while still entangled to it. I refused to believe that initially. I even told him to stop fucking around… but I eventually learned that he was for real when I saw his upset face struggling with the seat belt.

Like a caring father, I had to teach him step by step how to wear a seat belt. Heck, I even explained to him that a seat belt is fucking important for his safety… it could save his life… and also that the airbag won’t do him good if the seat belt is not worn… shits like that. I was like teaching a newborn kid the concept of safety inside an automobile.

That was the time when I started to feel really bad about him. My mind was telling me that he’s fucking stupid – but I was struggling with my conscience to convince myself that he was just rustic. But as the day progressed, I started to discover more bad things about him. Things that convinced me that he was worse than a retard. Here is the list of the discoveries… summarized in point form (I don’t really want to go into the details..).

– his breath fucking stinks. And boy he loves to talk. Always in Mandarin and always about redundant stuffs. It was already very frustrating of not being able to understand most of the things he say… and yet, I had to contend his pungent breath of decomposing corpse.

– he eats like a pig. No, I was not referring to his appetite. I was referring to the acoustic level of him eating. When he eats, he could emit noises that could be heard from a few city blocks. Damn embarrassing.

– when the American techs explain something, he would nod in acknowledgment without really paying any attention. Later, he would ask me tonnes of questions (again, in Mandarin) about the things that had been explained. And I had to explain all over again to him… in Mandarin.

– when I was working and analyzing some stuff, he would stick his head in front of my field of view – to look at what he wanted to look… entirely blocking me from continuing my work. I felt like jamming his head into the pile of computer junks I was working on… but my instincts told me that it’s not going to do good for my career.

Somebody tell me that this guy is normal – and that I’m actually all wrong about him. Arghh…

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