Archive for June, 2005

June 16, 2005

good stuff

Do you guys have any freaking idea what are those pieces of ugly stuffs in the picture above ?

If you guessed that it’s some kind of waste from an animal, you’re right. But these wastes, aren’t just any ordinary waste. These “wastes” are precious.

If you do not know that already, that’s actually some very expensive food that most Chinese women believe could defy the modern day cosmetic surgery. Yes, “bird nest”… or to be more precise, swiftlet drools (or is it puke?).

But somehow, somebody from the ancient world identified it as a type of nutritious food and made billions of people (especially those with double X chromosomes…) believe that these wads of shit looking organic matter … could actually make their skin glow in the dark or something like that.

Kinky isn’t it ? Things that girls would eat for the sake of their looks. And yet they complain about us guys being immoral, dirty or shits like that.

Well, however dirty or immoral as we might get, at least we don’t spend an arm and a leg buying animal wastes and fucking eat them… just to look more “radiant”…

We spend our money wisely on useful items … like cars, boozes and awesome cameras.

michaelooi  | ramblings  | 20 Comments
June 15, 2005

dusk of evolution

Guys love to ogle at girls. It’s inherent in us. Like a heat seeking missile, our vision will automatically seek after the nearest available hooch each time our brain has enough resource to allocate some cache for perversion. (well, unless that guy happens to be a homosexual).

So what is the science behind the act ? Quite simple, really. Basically, there’s just one visual scan signal being constantly sent to the brain. Raw data. The signal would enter the brain through some complex virtual filtering algorithm that acts just like junk/spam mail filters in our email client program.

Inside the virtual filters are sets of hardcoded rules/criterias (which have been developed based on the hundreds of thousands of years worth of evolution on this planet) that will be used to boolean against the specs of the visual target. Once target is identified as either a hooch or a hag, it will be registered into different Arithmetic Logic Unit (ALU) … which is responsible to compute the appropriate reaction respectively …

Like if it’s a hooch, the “good ALU” will issue a command to the eyeball to lock target and churn up some kind of a hormonal imbalance that makes the host feel really impressed … or sometimes, instigate the “jerking rigid gearstick effect” (extremely rare).

If the target’s specs sift through the filters or fail to meet the desired criteria, it will be blacklisted and mark to be ignored by the “bad ALU” (hags, old people, blimps, you get the idea etc) … which then, the host will move on to the next potential visual target.
Note: Certain bad visual target can be too abhorrent to handle and may result detrimental effects like excessive sweating, spasmodic convulsion, barf violently or even, spontaneous combustion…

Awesome isn’t it ? But sadly, the efficacy of this distinctive male knack has been jeopardized as of recent. It appears that the evolution of us modern human, doesn’t seem to be conforming to the law of nature. What our eyes see today, may not reflect the truth like what we used to perceive like before.

Women with large bosom no longer predicate that they have larger capacity to breastfeed. Nor does women with bootylicious bodyline mean that they’re young and active. With technology, basically anyone can get themselves a pair of rack of desired size. Including guys. And grandmas way past their menopausal age hitting the streets in skimpy dresses like Japanese school girls…

*Shakes head*. Just like what I encountered at lunch today with the guys. Saw a lady dressed in bright fluorescent pink bareback blouse, nice looking curls and other paraphernalia that gave us an impression that she’s some knock-out chick that was worth checking out. It was all nice from behind, until she turned to reveal her face. She turned out to be an old lady that looked like a swine crossbred with Mick Jagger … *barfs*. Fuck, what a fraud. I was literally swindled into believing that she was something way off her league.

That’s why I think our natural instincts isn’t working that well anymore. It’s really hard to trust what our eyes see nowadays. In a few year’s time, you probably won’t be able to tell the difference between an old lady versus a she-male versus a young good looking lady anymore. The evolution is heading towards the apocalyptic direction here…

michaelooi  | what I saw  | 9 Comments
June 14, 2005


A couple weeks ago, Jude came into my lab to collect something. But when she came in, I almost had an epileptic fit from the fetid stench that she brought with her. The malodorous agent surrounding her body was so strong, that it exuded a tsunami of deadly radioactive wave across my lab. I’m very sure if one were to fire up a Geiger counter around her, it will return an erratic read and possibly even render that thing defective. No shit.

I then did what a fully sane human would do in his most natural reflex – I bounced a few hundred feet off her, pretending that I was busy or something. But the effort was futile, as she would relentlessly tag after me around the lab asking heaps of questions and it was such a difficult situation for me. I know I could have actually yelled at her for smelling like a cockroach and flicked her off without giving a damn, but I have my professionalism to protect there. I couldn’t simply do that because it is not ethical.

So, I had no choice but to hold my breath when I talked to her. You can imagine the situation was like this – me talking for approximately a full sentence, stop and right before the next, I’ll have to pretend stooping down sideways to pick up a piece of garbage paper – inhaling an ample amount of oxygen in the process… before I hold my breath for the conversation again.

It went on like this for approximately 5 eternal minutes, before she finally got content and left me be. If she had lingered any longer, I probably would’ve been a dead man by now. (I’m suffering a major brain damage right now… I can’t seem to get myself off to wash my dinner plates … hmmpff)

Seriously, I do not understand what is wrong with some people. Like I’ve lamented for so many times in the past, do these people with such extreme case of BO actually know how they smell like?

Man, those scientist should stop wasting their time analyzing archeological mummies. Instead, I think they should spend more time researching for a permanent fix that could eliminate BO naturally. Like a vaccine or something … you know, injected into infants to instigate an antibody of sorts… and rid the world of odoriferous people.

But in the meanwhile, I’m gonna have to wire up plenty of boobie-traps around my lab just in case she feels like visiting again.

michaelooi  | happenings  | 7 Comments
June 13, 2005

out of control

I went back to Emily’s hometown again in the weekend. Like those countless of trips I made back there in the past, I always get to spend a lot of time pondering at some corner alone, and often came up with some insights to perk my blog up for the weekend.

I was exactly doing that when I saw something. Something that made me realize why are we guys always short of cash, and allowances will virtually be never enough for almost all housewives.

It started with Emily taking out a plastic bag full of those Tupperwares. (for those of you who doesn’t know what’s a Tupperware, ask the nearest housewife available to you.) Apparently, Emily’s sisters have been requesting her to purchase some of the Tupperware products that they have been craving from a catalog … and she did them some justice by complying with everyone’s request, and brought home those goodies for them.

What I saw next was pretty scary. The moment those brand new Tupperwares came into view, the housewives began to loot up the goods like a wake of vultures picking on a dead cow. In just a matter of seconds, all that left was just the empty bag. It was as if, they’re free like that. But we all know they’re not. They cost a fucking bomb and the housewives would happily pay for it.

Then, came the admiration part… where everyone began to check out and admire each other’s wares. Eg:

“Ooh, this is nice… What is it for ?”
“This ? Wait … let me think… oh yeah, this is for my cooking oil !”
“Cooking oil ? Cool ! I think I’ll get one for myself too…”

And trust me, they have these Tupperware containers for every fucking thing on this planet. Cooking oil, butchered animal parts, dead edible plants, snacks for your movies, condiments for different meals, or those cute little annoying ones to store different colors of your rectal suppositories. You name it.

Basically, after checking out each other’s wares, they’re gonna end up organizing another wave of purchasing delirium that would pretty much use up the remaining allowance for the month. And that actually brought me back some dark memories of my mom yelling at me for wanting to buy that pair of school shoes with an awesome looking glow-in-the-dark stripes. She would then lecture me about the pain of earning the bucks to feed my lazy ass … and me being a loafer that only knows how to waste money on unnecessary items. Geez. If only I’d realize about the Tupperwares I stole the cookies from when I was a kid. (let’s not even mention about the killer stilettos and Estee Lauder nuclear wastes that she’d bought…)

And you keep wondering why your moolah are being drained off faster than the rate of water being pumped out of a hydroelectric dam… Why can’t they leave their cooking oil and condiments in the original container ? What could possibly go wrong if they store food inside the fridge without a container ?

Man, these ladies are so out of control with their spending. They buy the expensive containers for something to be stored in it. Not for something that needs storing. I seriously think we guys need to go for more beer sessions to think about how to end this madness …

michaelooi  | what I saw  | 14 Comments
June 9, 2005

anatomy of a firefight

To you parochial girls out there, feel grateful today. For I, the wise and friendly one, decided to educate you girls a bit about the anatomy of a firefight. *firefight = a literal translation from the Hokkien slang of “Kew Huey”

Now, why 2 hands ? First, please peruse the illustration provided below.

I’ve replaced the picture of the serpent with a fire hose to conserve the family-friendly rating of this site of mine.

As you can see, our wiener has the characteristics of a shapeshifter. A shapeshifter is something that’s able to fucking change its shape. Usually, our dick is flaccid just like any harmless dormant fire hose at its default state. But when you rub it or provoke it with something soft and warm, it will transform into something scary that resembles a really fat snake with bloated head shaped like a chicken’s ass. (I’m very sure most of you girls know about this. If you don’t, go find a nearest toilet bowl and … )

Yes, I strongly believe that this is pretty much the basis of how Incredible Hulk was originally conceived. A normal sized organism that would spontaneously transform into a gigantic monster when provoked – oh… the resemblance. The only difference is probably the color. A dick doesn’t turn green in its monster mode.

So much for the introduction… now back to the topic. Usually, when a guy goes to pee, his dick should be flaccid as mentioned. He first has to unzip his barn door and use his left hand (assuming that he’s right handed) to pull down his underwear’s elastic band. This will unleash his serpent from its hiding place, ready to drain out his bladder content.

Being flaccid like that, you can imagine that it’s very difficult to actually control the stream of urine right into the urinal (or any target) without assistance. Just imagine it like a fire hose jetting out high pressured surge of water without its firemen. It will just flutter everywhere soaking everything wet in its path. Now, nobody would want that type of cataclysm to occur in front of the urinal.

That’s why, we’ll have to use the other hand to hold the serpent to carefully control the torrent of gushing urine so that the pee can be delivered to its desired destination. Like, into the mouth of a thirsty housewife. Kidding.

That hand plays a very important role in complementing our marksmanship (Guys are known to have the uncanny urge to shoot something in the urinal while peeing, like a strand of pubic hair, dead insects or blotches of unidentifiend stain) and hygiene. The word “hygiene” is mentioned because we have to shake off the remaining drops of urine from our dork with that very hand. (Quote from The Hot Chick – “Remember, if you shake it more than twice, you’re playing with it.”)

So, it’s one hand holding the underwear, the other controlling the hose. As simple as that. (It looked like we’re holding our kkc with both hands but, now you know it’s not quite the case…)

You’re now bestowed with the knowledge of taking a leak with a dick. By now, you should already know how to whip out the serpent, piss and shake the remaining droplets off without too much complications; should you ever be given a functional dick.

You’re welcome.

michaelooi  | enlightenments  | 19 Comments