Archive for November, 2004

November 17, 2004

mrs tan

This is about Emily, not me. This story was relived by Emily yesterday on our way back home from work. It almost made me drive into a tree.

*phone call to Mrs Tan*

Mrs Tan : “Hello ?”

Emily : “Hello, is this Mrs Tan ?”

Mrs Tan is Peekaboo’s mom. Peekaboo is Emily’s student, if you can remember her.

Mrs Tan : “Hi Emily, what’s up ?”

Emily : “Just wanted to check with you, if you’re able to let Peekaboo start her tuition earlier tonight ?”

Mrs Tan : “Shouldn’t be a problem. What time do you intend to start ?”

Emily : “Say, about 6.30 pm ?”

Mrs Tan : “Ok then, I’ll drive her there by 6.30 pm.”

Emily : “Thank you! Sorry for the last minute notice”

Mrs Tan : “Don’t mention it.”

As you can see, it was a very formal and polite kind of conversation. Why? Because Mrs Tan is Emily’s customer. We don’t normally speak nastily or casually to our customers. We do the formal shit.

Ok, back to the story. After Emily hung up, she went on with her office day work. About a couple of hours later, she suddenly felt like calling up her best friend whom she had called earlier (right before that Mrs Tan phone conversation).

Without thinking much, she whipped out her phone and pressed the redial button. As you may have noticed, the last person she dialed was not actually her best friend, it was Mrs Tan, Peekaboo’s mom. Emily kinda messed up her memory thinking it was her best friend she last called. Hilarity ensued.

Toot toot. Someone picked up the phone and answered “Hello ?”

Emily, thinking that it was her best friend, straight away jabbered something that she usually does to her gang of demented friends :

Emily : “Hoi woman! Have you taken your lunch? heheh”

Mrs Tan : “Errrr.. yeah, I just took my lunch.”

Emily : “So, what time do you wanna come out tonight girl ?”

Emily’s referring to a meetup which was suppose to take place after Peekaboo’s tuition that night.

Mrs Tan : “I thought you said 6.30 pm, right ?”

Emily : “No I did not, you fool. I have a tuition class at 6.30 pm lah. How would I be able to meet you up?”

Mrs Tan : “Errr… hello? This is Peekaboo’s mom .. ”

Emily : “….”

Emily was dumbfucked.

Mrs Tan : “Peekaboo’s tuition at 6.30 pm is still on, right ?”

Emily : “Oh !! I’m so sorry Mrs Tan ! I thought I was calling my friend there… didn’t realize I dialled the wrong number!”

Mrs Tan : “Heheh.. it’s ok. See you at 6.30pm”

Unspeakable embarrassment indeed – said Emily. Now, Mrs Tan will never look at Emily the same way ever again.

michaelooi  | 2-of-us  | 23 Comments
November 16, 2004

the box

I have this really cool idea … you know, how doctors can be replaced with automated machines that could do the exact same job. Well, of course, there are a lot of factors that are debatable, that doctors can do much more things than a machine can …. bla bla bla, but hey… horses was once thought to be the ultimate land traveler until someone invented the automobiles…

Alright, how does it work? Much the same way like an ATM does. Instead of 1 doctor in a clinic, we’ll have like half a dozen of machines in a premise that would be called – the cyber clinic. It’s a clinic with no nurse nor any doctor. Maybe just a couple of security guards armed with a shotgun or something… to ward off thugs and vandals. (the idea is to have a secure public premise, so, you may even have a bouncer there).

The machine, we shall call it, Automated Medical Assistance Machine (AMAM). AMAM sounded kinda absurd so, we can probably call it “The Box”.

“Oh damn, I think I’m having a fever”
“Just look for The Box dude.”

The Box, will be equipped with the most sophisticated hickeys to diagnose sickness for its patients. The main interface would be a touch-sensitive screen. The first step shall be data collection. The patient will first select from the major categories (on screen), to tell The Box what’s wrong with him/her.

Then, The Box will attempt to collect data from the patient. There shall be a slot or something to let the patient insert his/her hand, and from that slot, the machine will determine the patient’s history or identity through the fingerprint ID and at the same time, determine the heartbeat rate. It probably just gonna take less than a few seconds. If it’s gonna take any longer, there will be a porn themed screen-saver popping up from the screen, to ensure that no customers would ever get bored.

To take the temperature, there will be a sterilized probe ejecting from one of its hidden slots, and the on screen instruction will prompt the patient to put the probe into his/her mouth (or anywhere at all) for temperature probing.

And if there’s any need to obtain the semen sample, one will just need to insert his prick into a fitting hole with a built in contraption – where the machine will proceed to ‘milk’ out the semen using somekind of sterilized rollers… coupled with some soft porn on the screen for that brief moment. Once the semen sample is obtained, it will do some analysis on the samples and cache up the information.

Same goes for the female patient. If there’s a need to obtain any epithelial samples (or anything at all) from a female patient, the machine will be able to eject a disposable dildo to be inserted into the patient’s vagina. Of course, there will be slideshows of half naked muscular hunks to aid the process of sample collection. Once done, the disposable dildo will gently retracts back into the machine. And toot toot teet toot (no this is not R2D2), data will be transformed into useful information. No more pap smears.

Once done, all the information and data will be tabulated in some logic programming to decide, what type of medicine to dispense … and it will automatically print the prescription on a piece of thermal paper. Then you can bring the prescription to your neighborhood pharmacy to get your drugs/medicine.

And the machine would gladly accept credit cards. No problem.

Do you want a copy of receipt of your transactions?
Do you need a medical certificate?

And instantly, the copy of MC would be emailed to your boss and CC your HR officer.

It’s that simple.

Cool eh?

Nobody’s gonna have to be afraid of no pervert and sex maniac doctors anymore.

michaelooi  | enlightenments  | 15 Comments
November 15, 2004

pyrotechnic bird

You see, I have a known problem since childhood.

Ok, maybe some of you think I have A LOT OF PROBLEMS and this is no surprise but, what I’m trying to say is, I have a known MEDICAL problem. Since childhood.

It’s about my brain – it tends to get overheat at times. And each time that happens, I would be deluged with an immense agony of migraine. It’s a long story on how / why I have this condition, let’s just say, I have a near death experience before and this is the price I have to pay for being alive today.

Over the years, I have grown to get inured to the suffering and this isn’t a big deal for me. Each time that migraine comes, I will just hoover a couple tabs of paracetamol, and rub a few drops of medicated oil on my temple. That usually does the trick of easing the ache off. And this is why, I always have a couple bottles of medicated oil kept handy in my lab – just in case, you know, that motherfucking headache comes.

Alright, I’m gonna have to pause right here to explain about this ‘medicated oil’. This thing, I’m not sure if it exists in anywhere in the west but, it’s kinda popular among the Chinese community here. It’s sort of like a multi purpose convenient oil – known for its relieving properties for headache, stomachache, nausea, running nose, sex… I was kidding about the last one. No you can’t use it to lube your dick for fucking – because this thing is HOT. Super HOT. It’s gonna burn your partner’s labium or even scorches your own dick. No shit.

A typical medicated oil contains about 15 – 20% of menthol (differs from brand to brand)… with the rest of ingredients like paraffin and camphor. Which means, this thing can only be used externally, on non-sensitive parts only. Contacts with sensitive parts on our body (eyes, genitals, anus, nipples) could result in uncontrollable spasmodic outburst of reflexes like jumping around skankily and on some really extreme cases, regular convulsions. You get the idea. (I’ve blogged about medicated oil before – some absurd joke by my late father – here)

Back to the storyline – One day (that was last week or the week before, I think), I got into this very trying situation. The much dreaded headache came after returning from a hot afternoon lunch. Colleague’s car had a faulty air conditioner and sort of microwaved my brain half done. Almost immediately, I raced into my lab to grab that bottle of medicated oil, and rubbed vigorously on my head to soothe it down. I was literally pouring an abundant amount from that bottle and gave myself a massage on the head.

In matter of seconds, my entire head was overwhelmed with that cool menthol effect, and it felt good… until it spread into my eyes. I didn’t know how the oil got into my fucking eyes but, my reaction was to rush to the nearby toilet (with my eyes half shut) to gush away the oil directly with tap water before I go blind or something. Well, it certainly helped. Though a bit swollen and teary, the burning effect on my eyes gradually subsided and my vision was restored.

Well, since I was already inside the toilet, I decided to take a piss. Guess what happened?

My hands. They’re still covered with those medicated oil. No I didn’t wash my hands after taking care of my eyes. Without suspecting anything, I sashayed towards the urinal, whipped out my weeny and began to drain my bladder. Had to hold that beast down with my hands because the gushing urine will create a strong backdraft that could flutter it all over the place. With that, I had inadvertently ‘applied’ the medicated oil onto my prick, without realizing it.

Halfway through the experience, I suddenly felt a peachy cool sensation down there. It felt kinda strange at first, as if my dick was being caressed by a soft winter breeze… (try to take a piss in a winter cold weather, you’ll get what I mean). But post a couple of seconds, suddenly, it felt like it was on fire or something. Shit. And I hadn’t done pissing yet.

I was literally stuck. I couldn’t cut off my business to run dangling halfway through the lavatory into the booth to wash my lizard. It would be hell too embarrassing to do so. Besides, the toilet booths kinda stink and full of congealed shits. So, I had no choice but to bite my lips submitting to the fiery wrath of the almighty medicated oil – at least until the burning sensation wore off.

How long until the burning sensation wore off ? A little over a minute and a half – that was way long after I had finished watering the urinal hole. If you ask me, I would say that it felt more like a fucking hour and a half of torment there… goddamn it.

So, to you people out there who fancies sadomasochism, if you’re looking for something more exciting than whips, metal pinchers or hot wax, I would highly recommend using medicated oil on your private parts. Besides being, err kinky, it’s medicinal properties could probably prevent genital wards, yeast infection or even the most common venereal diseases. I don’t know, try it and let me know.

Don’t have to thank me if it works.

Lesson learnt : Always wash your hands before and after taking a leak.

michaelooi  | happenings  | 15 Comments
November 11, 2004

the barf cycle

We humans created the metrics system to measure something. Its purpose is to eliminate the uncertainties that our ancestors had to endure in ancient times. Our lives prospered and our sciences advanced, all because of the metrics system (except the goddamn Americans)

“A 3 foot long dick, excluding the holim” and your audience will instantly go “WOW !” without having the need to thoroughly imagine the length.

“a girl with a 34D rack” and the crowds go wild without having the need to actually witness the real thing.

Something like that.

But there are a lot of things that are still left without any metrical measurements. Or just simply, they are immeasurable.

One of the most common but critical immeasurable thing is UGLINESS. It’s really hard to measure how ugly a person is. It seems that we human can’t really agree to a set of defined standard that could determine how hideous a ratfink ranks.

Well, that is about to change, for I… have discovered a way to make people measure the depth of ugliness. We don’t have to use adjectives to describe an ugly person no more. Just use michaelooi’s… THE BARF CYCLE METRIC.

Here’s how it works:

I’m sure there are a lot of us out there have experienced throwing up before. Be it alcohol induced or other reasons, they are the same. The moment you plop your head directly into the toilet bowl, you’ll feel some pressure from within that forces out your half digested bolus of food or stomach lining goo. The feeling’s terrible… and it will last for a couple or more seconds and stop. Then if the queasy feeling persists, you’ll barf more.

Now that period of barfing and then stop, is regarded as 1 BARF CYCLE.

How does this relate to the UGLINESS factor? Easy. We use Cher as the standard (the old version, for that matter). She’s equivalent to 1 barf cycle. That means, she’s so ugly that she could make a guy barf for 1 barf cycle. The highest one can get is 5 barf cycles. Anything beyond that would be surreal and probably exaggerated.

The Barf Cycle Table.
1 Barf cycle = a person who is so hideous that his/her look is going to give you some uncomfortable feelings and puke for 1 barf cycle. May potentially cause loss of appetite.

2 Barf cycles = a very ugly person that makes you puke 2 barf cycles and a permanent nauseous feel. Side effects include loss of appetite and nightmares.

3 Barf cycles = puke 3 barf cycles, permanent nauseous feel, loss of appetite, nightmares, hairloss and nosebleed. A person of this rating would probably lose the right to vote, to legally drive or participate in any public events. Required to wear a mask to avoid public injury.

4 Barf cycles = puke 4 barf cycles, permanent nauseous feel and headache, loss of appetite, nightmares, hairloss, nosebleed, gout, gastric, high blood pressure, minor stroke, inability to control some of your limb functions. A person of this rating would be arrested by police on sight and possibly executed without trials. A mask usually won’t help.

5 Barf cycles = puke 5 barf cycles, induces palsy, possibly even permanent brain damage. The ugliness of this magnitude is legendary. Animals would attack the subject on sight, and is considered a hazard to human population. Would be executed on sight without trials, exhumed, sealed in a container, packed into a concrete drum and ploppled into the ocean.

So, next time, if you want to describe how ugly a person is, you can use this BARF CYCLE METRIC for a more standardized expression.

Remember, you heard it from me first.

michaelooi  | enlightenments  | Comments Off
November 9, 2004


ToiletWhore – my VP’s secretary. A cunt, slut, bitch, imbecile, succubus or whatever you want to call her – who thinks that because she’s the secretary of the mongoloid VP, she can stomp on the employees on behalf of his authority. Looking like an almost 6 foot tall sasquatch, she also sports a pair of scuzzily hideous blue contact lens on her lopsided eyes. The very sight of her morbid appearance could make one puke out the shit of a thousand dinner.

If you can remember that – it’s an excerpt from my hate list II. Recently, this bitch has gone miles too far than anyone could have imagined.

That dimwitted VP actually allowed her to approve his direct reports’ leaves, and gave her all the authority to authorize stuffs on his behalf. The result? She’s cockier than ever. She now walks with her head held up high, and act condescendingly as if she rules the universe. Fuck.

I really couldn’t understand why the VP would allow such a miscreant to climb on top of his head. Has he been getting some serious blowjob from that sasquatch secretary? Is she really that good in giving blowjobs? Or are they having somekind of clandestine relationship behind a closed hotel room? This is so mind boggling man. It shudders me to think that our fate now depends on her ability to please the VP…

I don’t know, by thinking about her fugly face alone, is enough to make me keel over. Her ugly factor can be best represented in following expression :

– she’s so ugly, that if she were to be spotted anywhere near a medical facility, she would be mistaken as a mutated clinical waste that walks on 2 legs.
– she’s so ugly, that a cryptologist might mistaken her as an actual sasquatch in disguise as a zombie, which in turn in disguise as a proboscis monkey.
– she’s so ugly, that kids are made to believe that she’s the real living version of The Swamp Thing.
– she’s so ugly, that she would make the Incredible Hulk turns purple.
– she’s so ugly, that she would make a mortician puke his brain out.

Just an analogy…

I ought to think of a superficial torture routine and post it up on my blog… just for her. God I so goddamn hate her.

michaelooi  | characters  | Comments Off