Archive for June, 2004

June 15, 2004

the pink package

Today, I went to the Logistics department to do something fairly important when a female colleague approached me. She was standing beside me until my attention was distracted, and then said this — “Michael… nah!”.

Nope. She did not flip her middle finger to me. If she did, I would have bitten her tits till it turns purple. She was actually giving me a package. It was a pink colored box in a plastic bag.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Can you pass this package to [my neighbor]’s daughter ?” (that neighbor who lives next to me, is also my colleague). Then she gave a lengthy explanation… while I was busy ogling at her tits.

Apparently, that thing was a box of Barbie doll set to be given as a gift for that neighbor’s daughter. That neighbor has been absent from work for the past few days and the doll set was about to turn stale. That was why my help was sought… to get the package out of the office into the hands of my colleague’s daughter…

As that female colleague with nice rack was about to bail, I suddenly realized the situation I was in,

Me : “Awwww… man… not this!” [as I wake from the illusion of kneading her tits]

Colleague with tits : “Just pass it to [my neighbor]’s daughter… ok? Bye!”

I thought of bitching more, but the tits bounced away happily without giving a damn about any of my opinions. I was left standing in the Logistics department holding a box of Barbie doll looking like a possible candidate of Pedophile of the Century. Oh fuck. The situation was damn embarrassing. How am I gonna face the society if I were to be seen carrying this piece of disaster around? It would definitely leave a scar in my reputation in the company.

I quickly fled back to my own office cube, and hid the Barbie package under my office desk – which, was unfortunately seen by one of my colleagues in the process. I took no chances and explained to him – “Fuck dude, this is not what you think it is. This is not mine. This is for my neighbor’s daughter… ok? I’m doing this for a friend.” Alright, he believed me, I believed.

Then came the hardest part – that was to carry the package out from the plant without being seen. The idea was to stealthily sneak out from my office, pass the security checkpoint, and to vanish myself in the sea of cars in the parking lot. I picked the moment when there were less people walking about, and quickly fled towards the exit.

I had to go through the security checkpoint because I had my work notebook in hand… So, I was kinda like hiding the package behind me when the security housewife was raiding my notebook bag. I was praying hard that she didn’t see the package… but I was unlucky. She saw it… and asked “Apa tu?” … to which I sheepishly showed her that it wa a fucking Barbie doll set. She was kinda like giving me this kind of look – as if I’m confused with my own sexuality. I gave a quick reply to even up the situation – “Boss mia anak mia patung” and scurried towards my car without looking back.

It was a close call. I was almost seen by a few chicks who happened to be searching for their car in the parking lot. Upon reaching my car, I slam dunked the package into my trunk and sped off.

Lesson learnt: Never accept packages of unknown origin.
sidenote about Barbie :

Barbie doll is the motherfuckest toy product mankind has ever created to deceive young little bastards. It’s a disease and a parasite of our civilization. This doll has evolved from a simple concept of a doll (you know, tea party or shits like that) into a hip teenager icon who adopts a slutty lifestyle that spends all her money on chintzy clothes and makeup apparatus. It indirectly promotes excessive spending among the youngs… and causes massive inflation.

And what more? Barbie is fucking expensive, and parents are often found themselves getting ripped off by spending a few hundred bucks buying pieces of a plastic slut that has an endless supply of props, which are always being sold separately, expensively. And this plastic slut even has a boyfriend named Ken — who doesn’t have a dick and looks like a total prick. I mean, if Barbie can be a slut and has a body that suggests she looked like one… why can’t Ken have a dick? What’s a guy without a dick? Is this what I think it’s trying to portray here? – female chauvinism or excessive desire of control over the male species? This is so fucking sick.

michaelooi  | happenings  | Comments Off
June 14, 2004

sleepwalk, sleeptalk

You know, it’s really dangerous when you have the habit of talking yourself stupid when you’re sleeping. Especially when your surroundings are filled with people who would not hesitate to take the liberty to listen to every single word of it. That was what happened to my friend Ayamas during our weekend Euro2004 match party in a hotel room.

We were watching the Spain-Russia match when Ayamas fell asleep. Snoring on a couch. It was then, Ricky made a bogus call to Ayamas’ mobile phone – thought of waking the slouch up. When his Phantom of The Opera ring tone wailed out, Ayamas jerked up in such a haste and yelled out his girlfriend’s name – as if she was there to give him a nasty boner up his ass with a king sized dildo with built in vibrator.

From his reflex that night, we inadvertently discovered an ugly fact – that he’s probably freaking scared of his girlfriend. He’s someone who looked like a macho dude during the day, but a sex slave at night. That’s just a cruel way to let your friends know your darkest secrets.

But Ayamas’ case was actually nothing if it is compared to the case of sleepwalking. I have a cousin who has this problem – sleepwalking. He is known to wake up in the middle of the night, and wander around the house with his eyes wide open – but is never really conscious all the while. Usually, all he does is just walk, and when he’s tired, he will go back to sleep on his bed.

But there was once, my cousin’s sleepwalking took an ominous turn into the darker side when he started to talk while sleepwalking. Double whammy. And boy it was a bad start. It happened when he was just merely 9 years old. It was very late at night, when his dad (my uncle) was watching porn… alone, when his son (my cousin) came wandering into the room in his sleep. My cousin then took a seat beside my uncle on the couch… and watched the porn together with him – without any expression or even blink. Of course this got my uncle in a real uncomfortable situation… and he did not know what to do next. My uncle knew his son was sleepwalking so, he decided just to let the little guy do what he wanted. So, my uncle was kinda like sit together with his sleepwalking son on a couch… watching porn.

After for what it must be like 5 minutes, my cousin suddenly turned to look at his dad… and cussed “Kanneh ma chee bye…” (fuck your mom’s cunt – in Hokkien dialect). My uncle was completely dumbfucked. He just responded “Ok ok… now go back to sleep”. But that wasn’t the end. My cousin then took a second wave of profanity attack against his father “Kanneh ma puki…” (fuck your mom’s cunt — in a different Hokkien synonym). My uncle gave the same response – “Ok ok… I know… now, go back to sleep” … and this time, he obeyed his dad and went back to his bed.

Scary shits. The story was retold by my uncle. When I told my cousin about it… he just shrugged and claimed that he didn’t know about it. Well, he could be lying all these while… I wouldn’t know, or it could be a really bad case of sleepwalking.

Whatever it is, just take heed of this — if you have the habit of talking in your sleep, better sleep alone or with your mouth gagged.

michaelooi  | what I saw  | Comments Off
June 12, 2004

my wedding photo

June 10, the day I had my wedding photos taken at the bridal house…

9.20 am – arrives at bridal house. We’re 20 minutes late. Greeted by a blimp chick – who is our makeup artist… I forgot her name, but let’s just call her, Fifi. Quite a friendly girl she is.

9.25 am – Fifi starts to work on Emily’s face. She has a big black case with all her tools and brushes … and she dons an apron. I asked her if she’s preparing to clean some seriously clogged sewage pipe… she then laughs like snorting hog.

9.35 am – Emily tells me she forgot to bring her black panties to suit one of her black transparent night dress. I have to go back home to get it for her. I then tell Emily I won’t be back and bid her farewell. (I am just kidding, of course)

10.15 am – I return to the bridal house with the black panties. I couldn’t find Emily in the place. There is a chick sitting in front of our makeup counter though. Where could Emily be?

10.15 am – It turns out that the knockout chick sitting in front of our makeup counter IS EMILY. I vociferate at Fifi… “Is that my wife??” Fifi then tells me that she painted her face white with foundation and some other type of chemical, a pair of fake eyelashes and a few dozen cans of hairspray. Emily now resembles Kelly Hu from “The Scorpion King”. I then tell Fifi and the gang of blood sucking bridal house attendants — “Now… I am fully aware the harm that we men are exposed to… this is so fucking deceiving!!!”

10.30 am – Emily completed her makeup session. Fifi then asks me to sit in front of the makeup counter… which surprises me. “Me? I need to makeup as well?”. Fifi nods. Not wanting to upset Fifi, I reluctantly get myself to sit in front of the makeup counter. She then smears some transparent cream on my face and following conversation takes place…

Me : “What’s this ?”

Fifi : “Amp-puse”

Me : “Amp-puse? What does it do?”

Fifi : “Amp-puse makes the foundation stick better to your skin …”

Me : “What’s a foundation?”

Fifi : “The powder that makes your face fairer…”

Me : “Why do I need to make my face fairer?”

Fifi : “To look better in the pictures …”

Me : “Do I need to wear a skirt? Shave my armpit? Bra?”

10.35 am – Fifi takes out a sponge and starts to pad the so-called foundation onto my face. It feels weird. And the sponge stinks. Imagine the same sponge that has been used to pad countless of faces of soon-to-be housewives… a perfect sanctuary / breeding place of bacteria and parasites… It reeks like an unwashed sock that could literally kill a full grown leper skunk.

10.40 am – Fifi asks if I want to spray some dye onto my hair. I vehemently declined. I tell her that dyeing one’s hair is immoral and is an insult to a guy’s decency. I quote the adjective of being – Ah Beng. Right at the time, there is a guy next to me having his hair dyed (some shit brown color) and he isn’t very happy about what I said.

10.45 am – Finally get to meet the photographer – which is a young lass. Not very good looking but, she walks like a model. Then, there is this tomboy female assistant of hers who resembles David Finch in many ways. And Finch is the one that will be helping me to put on my tie and shits like that. I then discuss with the photographer about the kind of poses we wanted. I give her a few key words – “simple, natural and yet elegant”.

10.50 am – In the studio. The place is very stuffy and warm. I start to sweat like mad. Finch says she’ll help me to wipe the sweat. How I wish that she is hot with big tits.

Alright, for the entire day (until 7pm), both myself and Emily was made to act in front of the camera like a puppet. It wasn’t pleasant at all. The studio was really warm and stuffy… and poor Finch had to wipe my sweat as if I was a leaking roof.

Upon completion of the photography session, I brought Emily out for a great dinner to celebrate… and when we reached home, I had to immediately clean off the excessive mousse and hairspray from my head. Feeling really exhausted, I fell asleep after stumbling out from the bathroom… and never regained consciousness until the next morning.

That was my day at the bridal house.

michaelooi  | 2-of-us  | Comments Off
June 11, 2004

long and crazy night (pt 3)

2 of my particular friends were the main artists… while the rest mostly guffawed around our art subject. When we ran out of space, the artwork then extended to Henry’s limbs… until every inch of his visible skin was filled with magic marker ink. It was all done in a delicate manner in order not to wake him… and boy it was really hard to be all that discreet and careful, when one has to suppress from laughing at the same time.

Then, when his limbs were full graffiti again, we resorted to remove his T-shirt… and started to work on his chest region. The nipples were drawn with the pattern of the Sun’s corona… stomach drawn with postures of nude porn stars as seen on the porn tape earlier. The joint drawing session was the finale of our long and crazy night. We finally slept at around 4am… only less than 2 hours’ sleep left before we were suppose to meet at the school compound.

Henry woke up soon when the time was near for us to leave… and not suspecting of anything (as he was still pretty much zonked from his deep sleep), he got himself dressed in his school uniform. All of us tried hard not to laugh as we saw him walked towards the entrance… ready to wear his socks and school shoes – all the while, didn’t realize about the magic marker drawings on his skin. Then suddenly, we heard a yelp and he was seen bolting into the bathroom to get to the mirror.

That was how he found out, and it was all over him. Blueish magic marker ink. While the rest of us were laughing at his ass, he went to the bathroom to take an emergency bath to remove the graffiti, and could be heard cussing with all kinds of profanity while scrubbing his skin. It was a moment to remember.

And that was the end of our long & crazy night. What more can a group of boys ask… for a night that defined every aspects of fun — porn, alcohol, gambling and body painting?

We all slept in the class the next day.

michaelooi  | escapades  | Comments Off
June 9, 2004


Read some funny cybersex stories in drliew’s forum, I thought I could have my own cybersex adventure with a lost ICQ girl who suddenly messaged me today …

rach : hi ??

me : yeah .. who’s this ?

rach : a bored gal…

me : wanna cyber ?

rach : how

me : ok … first … i unbutton your blouse ….

rach : huh ?

me : nevermind.

Apparently, not many people have advanced to the 21st century…

michaelooi  | e-chats  | Comments Off