Archive for October, 2006

October 17, 2006

“Fragile” (2005)

(a.k.a “Frágiles”)
I haven’t been watching any horror flicks ever since Regine was born – due to the fact that our TV has been declared an off limit item after 8pm, and I can’t haul my ass to the cinema either, since I am always needed around to clean up the shits and pukes of my infant daughter. So, I don’t have any choice but to watch it only after my Regine was asleep last night, and for the first time in many months, I laid my eyes on a rather outdated horror flick which goes by the title “Fragile”.

A low budget movie starring Calista Flockhart, you know, that ugly emaciated girl who got her fame from that Ally McBeal role? Yes, she’s the protagonist of this flick (just a word of note, I’ve never watched that McBeal crap before… just in case you’re wondering…). And for such a low budget making, I’d cut this flick some slack and give it a mediocre rating instead. So, yeah, why not?

The story’s about this nurse, Amy (Flockhart), who got a temporary job taking care of a bunch children at an old hospital. The kids were the remaining patients that were supposed to move out from the building to another premise, but due to a recent train crash that caused a shortage of hospital beds around the region, the transfer had to be delayed until everything goes back to normal again. But it didn’t… for the hospital was haunted. And Amy found out about it the hard way. She would first sit through her shift noting something weird happening around the hospital and like many hundreds of other horror flicks seemed to like to portray, she’d find out more about it from the kids, about Charlotte the ‘Mechanical girl’ (which was supposed to be the ghost).

I don’t know about that but, they could have given ‘it’ a better name, you know, like maybe ‘Bloody Brain Sucker’… ‘Charlotte the Mutilator’… or something… But anyway, that ‘Mechanical girl’, seemed to be a topic of interest to the troubled Amy, and a subject that many of her fellow hospital colleagues would not discuss with her. But the haunting eventually became more audacious and threatening, that Amy had to do something about it. She decided to investigate (instead of peel the fuck off and never turn back), and found out more about this Charlotte ghost…

Apparently this Charlotte ghost, wasn’t the ‘Mechanical girl’ as Amy had originally thought she was. That ‘Mechanical girl’ was called Mandy, who used to be one of the children nursed inside the hospital aeons ago for some rare bone disease. And there was this fugly nurse, which was the actual Charlotte, who developed a very deep affection towards Mandy back then. Soon Mandy got well enough to leave the hospital, but Charlotte didn’t like the idea. As a result, Charlotte orchestrated an evil plot to prevent Mandy from leaving, by fracturing her bones to paint a facade that her condition was worsening and needed to stay in the hospital longer. That was how Mandy got the name – ‘Mechanical girl’ – ’cause she had all these metal braces supporting her fractured bones, thanks to Charlotte the psychotic nurse.

But Charlotte went a bit too far one day, and got Mandy killed. Overwhelmed by extreme sadness, she killed herself and turned into a motherfucking badass ghost. So, all along the story, the haunting was of that Charlotte’s, not ‘Mechanical girl’ aka Mandy’s. Charlotte became violent because she didn’t want the children to be brought away from her one more time, and that was why she went apeshit about the whole thing and resurrected her old time hobby – breaking bones.

It was a mildly creepy movie with diggable plot, but lacked of the ‘scare factor’. The scariest thing of all was probably Charlotte the ghost herself, which only appeared almost at the finale of the flick and only for a brief moment. She had this creepy looking face that very much reminded me one of my nasty school teachers (which I’ve blogged about as ‘Miss Lim’ here) and… you probably wouldn’t believe this but, Charlotte was half naked. Her rack was like, hanging out. This… this… set of ultra saggy tits that have more wrinkles per square inch than an entire box (jumbo pack) of dehydrated prunes combined… bouncing menacingly across the screen like… like… it’s gonna spoil my sex life. They’re horrifying man. The tits.

And that Calista girl wasn’t very good either. She looked so very fake when she did that flip out scene. They could just get a porn star to play the role Amy, and it would have been any way better than Calista Flockhart. And that, we get to see some flesh, to offset that Charlotte’s horrifying indecent exposure…

Maybe I should become a director instead of an engineer…

michaelooi  | movie reviews  | Comments Off
October 16, 2006

John’s robotic arm project

Remember John? The callow technician whose IQ is equivalent to a box of rocks? Or less? Well, he’s now in UK studying Engineering of some sort. Yes, he’s not working for Company X anymore (I’ve briefly blogged about it here).

A couple nights ago, he messaged me through MSN Messenger. Wanted to consult me about his latest engineering project. Here’s the transcript

John : Michael

me : hey john

John : how are you?

me : fine i guess. are you in UK now?

John : yes. i need some idea from u…. about a robotic arm project…

He lengthily described about an assignment of his that involves the use of a robotic arm, and that his lecturer wanted him to think of something that can make a good use of that doohickey. But he didn’t cover a lot of essential details about that project and wanted me to shed some lights for him…

me : you could have googled it instead of asking me… you know… you’ll yield more results that way….

John : i already searched for a few days, still no idea

Situation assessment – A freshie engineering student consults an experienced engineer about an engineering assignment. Should the seasoned erudite engineer bequeath his knowledge to the young padawan? Most certainly fair for him to do so. It’s what he knows best.

So, the veteran engineer decides to altruistically impart his knowledge for the good of humanity…

me : if you were to ask me, i’d say build a robotic arm to masturbate a man’s dick. you know, just a firm rubber grip, that could repeatedly jerk itself mad.

John : hahaha

me : maybe hook up a few probes to measure the body temp and heartbeat…. and if those data translates to an increased hormonal imbalance, then jerk faster. i’m sure your lab professor will like it. so are you building one or are you gonna write a thesis about it?

John : no, i already got the robotic arm, just want to know what i can do using this 2 robotic arms

me : Oh you have TWO arms! well, you can use the other one to twist your own nipple… or perhaps to cup your nutsack, while the other one is busy with the wanking

John : but if really want to built that, it’ll cost alot =.=

me : desperate men will pay anything for a good toy …. your uni didn’t teach you that? what the fuck dude

John : =.=””

How about that people? A high tech robotic arm that can fulfill a man’s need indoor (well, extend a cord out, and you can even make it outdoor). If you think that invention is too self centered, then perhaps it can be utilized at sperm banks… It’ll milk sperms out of willing donors at an unprecedented pace and uniformity.

If John could make this thing happen, he’d sure become the most popular guy in the campus. Just hope that his machine works as expected, and doesn’t rip off somebody’s wiener instead.

[if you guys have any ideas that you want to share with John, feel free to ‘ejaculate’ your suggestion in the commenting system below.]

michaelooi  | e-chats  | 15 Comments
October 13, 2006


chee.bye [chee.bahy]
noun (Slang (vulgar))
the hokkien equivalent of vagina/cunt/cooter
“Shove it up your mother’s cheebye!”

the hokkien equivalent to describe something that’s fucked up or abominable. Extremely derogatory.
“Everytime I see my own shit, it reminds me of my boss’ cheebye face…”
“Him and his cheebye blog!”

Used as an exclamation of intense dismay or anger.
Cheebye! What the fuck was she thinking man??”


A colleague asked me about my ‘homicidal’ post today at the cafeteria, which sparked a paroxysm of rage off me, and I set off like a supernova


The expression came naturally as if it was a part of my reflex. That gives you an idea on how much I loath that Elliot. But I was a little loud this morning, and there was a school of girls on the table next to ours heard me. I expected something bad to happen, like a scornful look or two… since it is a norm for girls to feign proper in public…

But it didn’t happen. Instead, one of the girls gleefully turned around in an excited manner with her hands partially flailing in the air and hollered

“Oohhhhh cheebyeeee!!!”

Maybe it is kinda hard for me to portray the actual way she did it, but you’d have to imagine this – it was done as if cheebye is her favorite type of cheesecake and she’s imagining herself as a hungry mouse. Something like that. (I swear I didn’t make this up, I’ve got a couple of my colleagues who witnessed this incident as well)

I was like, totally dumbfucked by her bizarre reaction. I’ve never seen anyone who is so delirious about cheebye before. If there’s anyone who should be acting like this, I expect it to come from a guy. A rustic guy, that is.

I wonder what’s the story behind this lady here. Maybe her cheebye absconded from her long time ago, and she hasn’t seen it for ages. Or perhaps she’s into a cult of somekind that worships the female bearded clam like a divine idol (if you know anything about such cult, tell me about it…)

I think I’ll just be careful with my language next time… don’t wanna attract anymore weirdos…

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October 12, 2006


You know what could be more annoying than someone trying to fake an English (or American) accent? Adding an ‘errrrrrr’ in the middle of his speech. You know, with emphasis on the long R at the end of the expression by fluttering the tip of the tongue against the palate. Elliot the idiot does that all the time.

It was as if inserting that ‘errrrrr’ expression would make one believe that he’s supposed to have some Western accent or something… FUCKKKK!!!!

He was recently hired to replace Rod’s place (I know… of all people… it had to be him…), and that was why he moved to the desk behind mine. And every goddamned awakening minute, I had to contend with his ‘errrr’ expression like it was part of his speech impediment (that’s because he’s always on the fucking phone for some weird reasons).

I so fucking feel liek grabbing the nearest pot of cactus (which I can spot one on Jude’s desk next to mine right now…) and shove it down Elliot the idiot’s throat and repeatedly pummel the hump down his neck to maximize the side effects… while yelling “Errr somemore… errr somemore! You motherfucking cheebye piece of worthless clinical waste!”. After that, I’m gonna gouge his eyeballs out, and crush them by repeatedly stomping them under my feet. Once he’s down and immobile, I’m gonna fucking stab him dead with my coffee spoon, and spit at his corpse. Then I will drag him by the hook into the toilet and drain his blood dry… before mutilating him into a thousand pieces and feed it to a mob of stray iguanas at the contaminated creek behind Company X.

I feel better now…

michaelooi  | rantings  | Comments Off
October 11, 2006

the day my cellphone saved my ass

This happened a couple weeks ago. (Or was it the week before? Nevermind). Charles and I went to pay Ayamas a visit. That poor guy’s apartment got burglarized a week earlier, and Charles was to bring him some state-of-the-art locks for him to beef up his home security. But at the time we arrived, Ayamas told us that he had to go out to attend a neighborhood community meeting or something, and we had to hang out all by ourselves inside his pad until he returns.

And hang out we did. We chatted, fiddled with his magazines, and even helped ourselves with his beers… you know, just to kill some time until he returns. A scant moment through the waiting, the beer got through my kidney filters and made its way to my bladder. I felt a wee tad of urge, wasn’t a critical one, but I decided to answer the call anyway… since I had nothing to do there. So I set out to his toilet to contribute something to the nature.

As I was about to pee, I thought of sparing myself some decency by closing the door and locked it. Like, it sure wouldn’t be nice to relieve myself at somebody’s house flailing my dick around without closing the toilet door. What if a shapeshifter relative of his were to suddenly barge into the toilet for emergency and plowed into my ass? It would be a disaster. I can imagine myself lying unconscious on the floor with pee still gushing out of my dick, while the middle aged rhino has her head wedged in between my ass with shit all over the floor. Mannnnn…

So, with the door locked, I could be sure that I was fended off from such potential embarrassing situation.

Anyway, after I did my thing, I unlocked the door and tried to push it open… nothing happened. Well, I thought maybe I didn’t unlock it properly, so I slid the lock button again and pushed the door – same result. Alright, maybe I was careless – I thought, I might have LOCKED the door instead of unlocking it, so I tried the other position of the lock button and pushed, to no avail. I repeatedly flipped the lock button and resorted to shake the damn door, but it just wouldn’t budge. Then it dawned on me that the unthinkable had happened – I WAS TRAPPED INSIDE AYAMAS’ FUCKING TOILET!

Just as I was about to set myself into the panic mode and scream, suddenly, my survivor instinct kicked in and got reminded of the little rectangular buzz box inside my pocket – my cellphone! No I didn’t call the fire brigade, but Charles’ number instead. It got through… but he didn’t answer his phone. He thought that I might have accidentally dialed his number, since it would be ridiculous for me to call him when we’re inside the same house. So, he kinda yelled out loud from the living room – “Hey, you calling my number?” and walked towards the cursed toilet and found out about the whole blooper.

As expected, that easily amused jackass had a good laugh at me before he undertook the rescue mission. (friends…) It took us 5 minutes worth of banging and prying, before we managed to loosen the jammed latch off the door frame… and finally got me out to see the light again, all in one piece. Thank god. Freedom couldn’t have smelt any better (literally).

We never spoke of that incident after that day.

michaelooi  | experiences  | Comments Off