Archive for July, 2004

July 18, 2004

mangosteen

Emily doesn’t like mangosteen at all. She was giving me this perturbed look when I was wolfing down one mangosteen after another, (mangosteen = manggis)

Me : “Wow… these mangosteens are swweeeeet !”

Emily : “Go away! You are making me sick!”

Me : “Come think of it… it’s flesh kinda reminded me of a cat’s nutsack…”

Emily : “Arrgghhhh! You are so gross! eeeeeeewwh”

Me : “Muahahahha! meow meow…”

Mangosteens are good.

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July 17, 2004

incident at Mac’s

Yesterday, my friend Henry was late for the 9.30pm movie and I kinda arrived earlier. Because he and his girlfriend had yet to take their dinner, he delegated the task to buy both their dinner from McDonald’s to me – which I obliged. But when I reached Mac’s, there was a long queue at all the counters, and it was already 9.10pm.

Emily, being a very sweet girl, volunteered to queue up and I went to the nearby court to check out some Digi contest in the mall – reckoning that the whole thing shouldn’t take long.

But I was wrong. 10 minutes passed and there was still no sign of Emily coming out from Mac’s. So, I went to check what was taking so long. When I went back to Mac’s, I could see Emily was still in the queue, and she was just 1 person behind a man of Middle Eastern descent (beard, head towel, robes, stench, you know…). For convenience’s sake, let’s call the man ‘Osama’. Behind Emily, was a mad queue behind. Everyone looked frustrated.

Apparently, Osama had stood there for more than 3 – 4 minutes already, and that guy was unable to decide what he wanted to buy. There was also a little girl who stood beside him – whom I presume must be his daughter. After thinking for what felt like forever, he finally ordered something, a few sets of burgers and told the guy at the counter “That’s all”.

After the Mac staff completed his order and punched the register, he told Osama the amount to pay. But then, he did not pay… yet. He squatted down to ask his daughter something, and ordered another set of burger. Fine. Mac staff went in and got him another burger… and then again, politely asked him to pay.

Osama whipped out his wallet, but he didn’t pay. He took a pause and instructed the Mac guy that he wanted all of his orders to be wrapped as take-aways. The whole queue of customers sighed in frustration. It had taken an unbelievable 5 minutes just to serve that fussy Middle Eastern man. Everyone was pissed and I was going to be late for my movie.

That was when I walked up to Emily (which was behind Osama) and stood by her side. Back to Osama – the Mac counter guy complied his request, wrapped up his food in some plastic bags and again… politely requested him to pay. Again, Osama didn’t pay. Instead, he took out his cellphone and made a phone call. He was fucking holding up the entire line to speak on his cellphone! He gestured to the Mac counter guy to wait as he was talking to someone on his phone (he was the one who made the call).

He went to the length of talking for about 20 – 30 seconds, and then, with an irated look, he gestured to the Mac guy again, he wanted more serviettes. Mac guy gave him more serviettes. Then he hung up and whipped out a big note. Mac guy got him some change and uttered the standard “come again”. But he was not leaving yet. He asked the Mac guy about some burger and ordered another set.

At that particular moment, I literally went apeshit and yelled at him “Can you speed the fuck up?? You’re fucking holding back the entire line!!”. He pretended that he didn’t hear me and stood there as if nothing happened. Then, he paid for the extra set of burger and asked for some packets of chilli sauce.

Well, one must have thought that he was all done for being an asshole, but hell no. He actually MADE ANOTHER ORDER AGAIN. This round, he asked for 2 more regular french fries for take away! Let’s recap here – he held back the entire line for almost 10 minutes, spoke on his cellphone when ordering, and ordered his food in 3 different receipts… and he had the audacity to give that Mac counter guy a pissed look as if he was not served well enough.

I yelled at him again – “MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND!!! ARE YOU STUPID OR SOMETHING??”. Again, he pretended not to hear me. He paid and took his fries and quickly left the place. But just as he was leaving, I went up to his side and told him “Eat shit and die, you motherfucking asshole…” – he looked at me with a slightly annoyed look (but scared) and left in haste. I swore, if his daughter was not with him, I would have gotten medieval with him on the spot.

I really loath and abhor this kind of people. Stand in the line doing nothing, but would take his own sweet time deciding what to order when only it is his turn. Not only that, this guy actually top it off with a stinking attitude. I do not know if that was a common practice back in their country but, it clearly shows how uncivilized he was. What a fucking jerk.

I hoped he got raped by a camel one day.

michaelooi  | happenings  | Comments Off
July 16, 2004

2 girls and a pair of rubber gloves

You know, we people tend to associate human look with scents. It’s like an inherent characteristics in us, you know. Here are a couple of examples:

When I see a pretty hot chick, I would imagine how nice she smells. And automatically, if she walks by, I would take a deep whiff of her womanly scent. Ahhh… Sometimes when I’m deprived of sleep and have a weak mind, the scent could even trigger some sort of erotic day dream. And no, of course not to the extend of visiting the toilet to fap, but sort of giving me the elevation to a higher level… you get the idea.

See a Bangla? I would have a totally different reaction. Somehow, this could be due to bad experiences I had previously. It seems like they have a genetically hardcoded odoriferous body, that was beyond any known remedy or cure. They have the same type of fetid stench of a cockroach… that it is hard to distinguish them both. The sight of a Bangla would remind me of a roach. The sight of a cockroach on the other hand, would remind me of a Bangla. You usually hold your breath or dive for cover when you see any of them around.

So, the 2 example above basically explains the point I’m trying to make here – that our human brain tends to judge how a person smells like, through visual contact – before it allows the nose to whiff the actual smell.

But yesterday, I encountered an extraordinary experience of such phenomenon. I saw 2 nice looking young chicks walking towards my direction, and I was walking opposite their’s. It was a narrow 3 ft corridor so, we kinda have to brush through each other in a very close proximity. From the way they looked, I kinda expected some flowery scents or maybe a common smell armpit deodorant/anti-perspirant.

Confidently, I staged out my nostrils to whiff some, sucking their essence of youth as they walk by. According to some experts (don’t ask me which expert), doing so can actually prevent my company shares from dropping so… I have to be selfish. WHIFFFFFF… smell goes into my nasal chute and my brain started to process their scents. An image pops up – Rubber glove.

WTF ? Analyze again – rubber glove. No kidding, one of the ladies actually smelled like a pair of rubber gloves. You know, the type that is popular amongst dentists?

Now, why rubber glove ? Escapes me. It freaked me out. Maybe both the girls had just came out from the toilet doing some sick anal sex thing to each other… with their hands, wearing rubber gloves. Ughh…

michaelooi  | what I saw  | Comments Off
July 15, 2004

new me

I’m doing a trial run on the “new” me – a person who speaks zero profanity. Test subject #1, graceshu.

Me : grace

Graceshu : hi

Me : how are you today ?

Graceshu : kinda tired. but am aoky :D how r u?

Me : I am fine.

Graceshu : okay. hows emily?

Me : Emily is fine as well. Thank you.

Graceshu : whats up?

Me : I can see the ceiling.

Graceshu : okay.

Me : Have you taken your dinner, Grace ?

Graceshu : who is this?

Me : My name is Michael Ooi. I thought you know me.

Graceshu : you’re scary i dont want to talk to you. goodbye.

Me : hahah … fuck …

Graceshu : :P

Me : it’s weird to talk nicely … isn’t it ?

Graceshu : dont scare kids away pls.

Me : hahah … me lah … tiiuuu

Graceshu : abit out of character lah

Graceshu : yes tiu.

Me : damn … actually … why do they teach us that kinda stuff in school eh ? we’re not gonna sound ok if we learn everything they taught in school ….

Graceshu : it works for some people. but i’m not used to it on you. thats why it scared me cos it’s rather out of character.

Me : ok .. sorry ler … ehehehhe … damn that was funny …

Test result = FAILED.

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let out session

*Update: since there are a lot of cavemen out there who are not very good at comprehending simple English and like to read my blog at the same time, for the passion of my own writing, I have decided to bold out certain phrase to aid them. Thank me and be thankful.

I was driving home from dinner last night (with Emily) and was caught in a traffic jam. It was this Bayan Baru area, where the roads are narrow and full of impatient factory workers. I was listening to a CD when suddenly, a small motorcycle (kapcai) appeared on my left. It was a young Malay guy motherfucker. He was trying to squirm through the narrow space between my car and an old 70’s Prelude next to mine. The guy hit my side mirror, and had it folded backwards.

Before I could even wind down my window to yell at him, he was already gone. Speeding so fast in between the gaps of the congestion as if his gay lover was about to give birth to a big piece of tumor. Fine. I just cussed as usual and got over it. I went back to listen to my CD.

After about 5 seconds, another horrifying sight unfolded before my eyes through my rear view mirror. I saw a swarm of kapcais filling up the space between cars behind mine, just like the scene of the beetles filling up the dungeon floor in “The Mummy Returns”. I went like “Oh shit” before Emily, and moved my car a little bit nearer to the curb to ensure that they could not squeeze through the gap again.

Everything went fine as the drones of stupid kapcais were forced through the small space behind the Prelude, until an old Indian bloke came and stopped behind the left side of my car. He was contemplating whether he could make it through the small gap. Pundamanek! As he was about to squeeze through the gap, the idiot suddenly lost his balance and tipped over, and his bike’s right handle planted into my car, with a loud THUNKKKKKKKKKKKKKK heard inside my cabin.

I went nuts. Realizing that he was in grave danger, that low-life son of a bitch fled through behind the Prelude. By the time I was about to get down from my car with a big steering lock in my hand (to kill him), he was already gone, just like the previous Malay motherfucker. All I could do was to honk all the way down until he disappeared out of sight. Missed his number plate as well (as it was blocked by the tonnes of cars around the area). Nothing could describe my pain at that particular moment. Especially when I didn’t get to at least settle off with the offender. Felt as if I’ve been raped… Oh fuck.

I scoured the entire area to look for the guy after that, but to no success. My car had a small dent at that spot, and it was a devastating sight for me. FUCK.

You know, I have always disliked kapcais all my life – I think they are a nuisance to the traffic. They are too small, light and fucking dangerous. Not to mention cheap (which are affordable by social garbages and vagabonds alike). Now that this happened, I hate them even more now.

I swear to myself, if I ever get a chance to lay my hands to kill someone on a kapcai performing stunts on the road, I will definitely do it. Twice. Goddamn motherfuckers you kapcai riders. I hope you’ll get cancer all over your dick and never get to enjoy sex in your short pathetic life… for 10 generations. Including your dog.

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