Archive for March, 2007

March 18, 2007

bitches bitches bitch bitch

God I so fucking hate my sister Beancurd and my niece (Beancurd’s daughter) Chicken Rice. They showed up at my apartment today – uninvited – for almost the whole fucking day. I was complaining to Emily (yeah if it wasn’t my mom, I would have chased them out with a fucking broom or somethng, had to play nice… cheebye)… how could anyone be such an annoyance, to remain at somebody’s apartment for the WHOLE DAY? Like, don’t they have their own weekend plan or something? Well, I DO! My plan is to have a peaceful weekend with my infant daughter! A quality time with my family. Be with each other, shits like that. Instead? I have these 2 fucktards laughing hysterically at every single thing that my Regine does. And if they’re not laughing, they’d repeat the same single digit IQ comment about how Regine resembled me… Over and over again.

“OOoooooh she looks just like her dad! [cackles like a motherfucking trollop]” – 300 over fucking times the same minute.

Guess what Einstein? SHE’S MY DAUGHTER! Get over it already! And what about my TV huh? What about it?? They’d fire up the TV when Regine’s asleep, and laugh at commercials (that’s how retarded they are). Then they’d make stupid jokes that nobody understands. And eat boisterously like pigs during lunch. And dinner. Leaving their soup bowls on the table like i have a maid or something. FUCCCKKKKK MAN!!

Sometimes, when I say how I so fucking wish I’m an orphan, I really do mean it. I don’t want the kind of relatives and siblings like mine. I can imagine how peaceful my life would be if I’m an orphan. I can start my own family with a boot just like that, and I’m going to live a life my own way, and gives no shit about nobody’s fucking opinion.

michaelooi  | rantings  | Comments Off
March 16, 2007

lean thinking

My colleague Jason elatedly exclaimed this morning that he is going to watch “300” at the cinema tonight. With his girl. I remarked that it is a waste of money – since a movie that awesome would definitely be subjected to lots of censors and paying 10 bucks (20 if he’s paying for the girl as well) for that kind of travesty would be akin to paying an overpriced blowjob which you’re never going to get. I then told him, why not wait for a full length DVD release which you can later download from the internet – for free – and enjoy in the comfort of your own house? (nothing beats the feeling of watching a movie scratching your own balls with one hand, and a can of chilled beer on the other…)

He then countered me – “It wouldn’t be that fun to watch it alone at home”.

Ahhh, so it’s all about making out inside the cinema. You know, you dupe your target to get interested in going out with you by suggesting to watch a really cool movie… and once she’s led into the dark cinema, she’s all for your taking. Used to be a cool tactic back in the old days when we had nothing much to do at home. But it’s all a different ball game now. Making out inside a cinema is not a ‘cool’ thing anymore. Why? 4 words. Globalization of modern living. Everything is about being efficient nowadays. Lowest cost for the maximum gain.

If you want to get into your girl’s pants, you don’t just squander 20 bucks and a movie to go with it (not inclusive of the exorbitant parking fee and the crappy expensive dinner before the movie). If you want to make out, be fucking serious about it. Do it separately at home or somewhere. You don’t mix the joy of watching movies with kneading tits, licking throat and stroking pubes. If you need to do it anyway, there are actually a few other options you can do to minimize the wastage… like (i’m gonna include point calculation to make it easier to compare…):

a) pay for everything and concentrate to enjoy the movie. Make out later in the park.

You lose :
– 10 bucks for yourself (-1 point)
– 10 bucks for her (-1 point)
– $$ for parking & dinner (-2 points)

You get :
– to enjoy the movie… (+1 point)
– to go into her pants (+2 points)

Total points : -1

b) go on dutch and concentrate to enjoy the movie. Make out later in the park.

You lose :
– 10 bucks for yourself (-1 point)
– $$ for parking and dinner (-2 points)

You get :
– to enjoy the movie… (+1 point)
– to go into her pants (+2 points)

Total points : 0

c) you download the movie, watch it at home with her. If you need to make out, pause the movie and do it for infinite time (you get to have the option to go nekkid as well)

You lose :
– Nothing (+1 point)

You get :
– to enjoy the movie… (+1 point)
– to go into her pants (+1 point)
– scratch your balls (+5 point)
– let her scratch your balls (+10 points)
– to have the freedom to explore every possible ways to make a person attain orgasm (+infinity)

Total points : !!***POINTS OVERLOAD***!!


So, do you people totally see what I’m seeing here? Be prudent. You can reduce your unnecessary spending if you want to.

michaelooi  | enlightenments  | 22 Comments
March 15, 2007

let’s talk about ultraman…

A colleague of mine copied me a full length Ultraman flick a few days ago. It was titled ’40th anniversary of ultraman’ or something like that. Tried to watch it but, couldn’t understand 99% of the shits they were saying. That was because the whole damn thing was in Japanese. But that’s not really important anyway. It’s Ultraman for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing deep in there. Just pure brainless brawls and kindergarten level mayhem.

Alright, after realizing that it was in Japanese language, I started to skip through the dramas and dove straight into the actions (there was an unbelievable shitload of dramas in this flick. I didn’t know ultramans have feelings… geez)… you know, the wrestling part… I was expecting something different from what I saw 20 over years ago. Maybe a computer animated ultraman or some kickass realistic graphics. But surprisingly, it was all the same. The same rubber suit and the same plastic miniature props all over. Hell, even the fighting looked the same – ultraman kept walloping the plastic monster like how my Regine tosses her ridiculous looking ragdoll onto the floormat and laughs at it like a jackass (daddy’s trait).

I found myself constantly laughing, instead of feeling intrigued – a far departure from my childhood days. I can’t help but wonder, what was I thinking when I was a kid? How could recycled acts like this could capture my kiddy ass interest over and over again without fail? It has always been the same ultraman and same act, just different monsters. Really…

Now watching the damn thing as an adult, I suddenly see so much ridiculousness and flaws in this whole ultraman realm.
– how come nobody realizes that the hero never get himself killed everytime his plane or vehicle crashes?
– why would the ultraman choose to wrestle when he can use his zapper to dispatch the rampaging motherfucking monster right at the beginning of the fight?
– if it always take an ultraman to finish off the monster’s ass, why would they need the team of futuristic looking defense squad around? I’ve never seen them kill a monster before…
– the monsters, what are their motives other than destroying buildings and city blocks? (these monsters appear to be able to talk in this movie. I was wondering, since there are some intelligence in them, do they ever look into the mirror at any one time and have a moment of self realization that their existence is a big mistake? you know… with the tentacles and odd looks…)
– the ultraman has a blinking LED on his chest – which from my tacit understanding, is an indicator that he’s fucking gonna have a cardiac arrest or something. The big question is, what’s that indication for? Is there another third person, other than the monster and the kid who’s viewing the show, that need to know when the ultraman’s tired? Why lah?

And so on. So many open ends… and yet, these people manage to sustain the whole kid-cheating empire for 40 fucking years.

I felt so retarded for just watching the show… had to switch it off in no time. Kanneh.

michaelooi  | thoughts  | 14 Comments
March 14, 2007

am I normal or what?

There’s something that has been bugging me for a few days. Something that I want to clarify with the public. But before that, let me explain what is this all about first.

You see, there has been some major renovation going on at my workplace. A few days ago, the contractors started to paint the place up. Like, major paint up kind of business. As a result of that, the whole place started to smell like paint thinner. The smell would penetrate through walls and no matter where you go, you’d catch it. And for these few days, I’ve been quite happy… because I really liked the smell. (if you don’t know how paint thinner smells like, it’s almost the same as your mom’s/girlfriend’s nail polish. Go whiff it to get an idea).

But rather strangely, not everyone likes the smell. The operators would cover their nose everywhere they go… and my colleague BigSnake would rant “IT FUCKING STINKS IN HERE!!”. Tell me something but I know what really stinks… but definitely not this. You know what stinks? Leftover garbage. Wet dogs. Rotten eggs. A baby’s poo. Farts. Banglas. Those stuff stink. But this? Not this. At least not for me. I think the smell of paint thinner is rather pleasant to our olfactory senses. So does petrol, chloroform, glue… you know, stuff like that.

(I know junkies love to whiff glue and paint thinners, but I’m talking about the smell as itself, not the pleasure of indulging in them as stimulating agents.)

So, am I normal or what? Any of you people out there likes the smell of paint thinner (or nail polish) like I do? I need to know if it’s only me or something. (I know a couple of friends who share the same opinion, but I need to poll from a larger and wider scope of people to understand this).

michaelooi  | enlightenments  | 35 Comments
March 12, 2007

a little Monday rant

There’s a nice chicken rice stall near where I work. Operated by this humble and friendly lad. His food is cheap, and he’s always friendly. My colleagues and I kinda like him. That’s why we always frequent to his stall for lunch. Except when his wife is around…

You see, his wife is completely the opposite of him. Always wearing this acerbic look as if we poisoned her family dog or something. And she always overcharges us for the same fucking plate of chicken rice with the same config that we get when she isn’t around. A consummate bitch. Everyone hates her… and I can tell that the chicken rice dude hates her too. (That’s because they don’t speak a lot).

The whole thing kinda made me ponder in length – what are the qualities that a man looks for in a woman that would make him happy throughout a conjugal relationship? There are many subjective answers to that, easy answers. With the advancement of technologies, one can simply wiki-the-fuck out her husband’s peculiar behavior off the internet and she’d be that much knowledgeable about male evolution through the few centuries. But sadly, those conveniences are often misused. Modern housewives nowadays are more keen to use the internet for trivial matters – like discussing about their manicures or how to reduce their giant cactus shape into an hourglass figure… (you get the idea).

This definitely has to change. The girls need to understand us guys more for the good of humanity. You see, it’s fucked up people like that chicken seller dude’s wife that makes a relationship sour. Lack of understanding. She should go work somewhere else if she’s not that happy about helping out at the stall. Not only she reflected badly on herself by having that stinking attitude, but on her husband as well – which in turn, translates into monetary losses when the bad vibes begin to repel customers. I reckon that it’s a matter of time before that chicken rice dude snaps and go apeshit, and shove all the leftover chicken bones into her ass before calling for a divorce. It’s a brewing disaster bound to happen.

We do not need more people to get divorced and have more of these broken marriages to churn out more fucked up kids. We need to do something. Like finding a cure for our sex addiction and also how to procreate without tits and clits. It’s damn science fiction if you were to ask me but, it’s still a hell lot more easier to consider all that near-impossibilities than asking these women to be more savvy of our existence. (hell, most of them don’t even know how to change a flat tire for fuck’s sake! How can you expect them to understand guys??)

I don’t know what else can we do to improve the situation other than pray. I have solved a lot of complex technical problems at work, but none of them were comparable to this. Right now, I can only feel thankful to have Emily, who’s not a little bit like that chicken rice seller’s fucking wife… and rest assured, I’m gonna make sure my Regine’s going to be like her mom when she grows up.

You guys take care.

michaelooi  | rantings  | 20 Comments