Archive for May, 2007

May 29, 2007

does your tint allow adequate light penetration?

One of the headlines in our local news site yesterday:

“New crackdown soon on tinted vehicles”

If you haven’t already read that news article, well, the main idea of the whole thing is – the government is gonna go all out against you motherfuckers out there who abetted the aliens’ evil plot to take over the country/world by tinting your vehicles.


Fuck shit if you’re not scared the daylights out of yourselves already.

So what’s this all about really? Or shall I say, is that all necessary? Why heavily tinted vehicles become such an important agenda for our government all of a sudden? To divert our attention from the leaking Parliament roof? Apparently, not.

“Heavily-tinted windscreens and windows can pose a hazard to other road-users, especially during rainy days or at night” – one of the big shots was quoted saying.

I was like, Wow, that’s something scientific that we could use to add into our goldfish-equivalent knowledge. Thou shalt not tint your ride until you can’t see through your windscreen/window. Riiiggghttt.

To make you people believe that they mean business this time, they alleged that they have imported 150 units of tint checking doohickey from Australia for 1 million bucks (with that sum of money, I can buy enough education for the MP’s in our Parliament to have a more refined behavior) – a machine that’s capable to measure light penetration through your vehicle tint, day and night. Those who get caught, will be made to pay a hefty fine of 300 bucks.

Now that’s gonna burn a hole in our pocket. All that for a decent purpose of wanting to cut the cancer causing UV and IR from messing up with our skin. They (the government) would rather let us die of skin cancer and prickly heats than looking as cool in tint as their Yang Berhormats that scoot around the city at sub-sonic speed with police escorts… They’re all out to make us look as uncool as possible. We’re needless to say, fucked.

That’s why I came up with this method to verify our tints – whether or not it allows enough light penetration into our vehicles. You know, better act fast before too late. 300 bucks are not easy to get by. (Elliot has to get anal-fucked by 300 Banglas, or the same Bangla for 300 times, to pony up that amount of cash…)

Here’s what you can do to determine if your tint’s ok and to potentially save that 300 bucks :

1) identify a ghetto or gangster spot in the city.
2) look for a specific bunch of gangsters hanging out in the open.
3) drive by in front of them.
4) wind up all your windows (if not already wound up)
5) honk to beckon for attention
6) flip those gangsters a bird.

If your car tint has adequate ‘light penetration’, you’d get those gangsters hot on pursuit behind your ass. Enough light penetration means, they can see your ‘bird’. See?

(I flipped a bird at an Indian truck driver last week, he almost got a stroke from fuming too hot over my ‘bird’. My car tint is safe. No issue.)

If they’re not reacting to anything, it’s time to get your windows/windscreen re-tinted.

Alternately, if you’re a chick, you can opt to drive around town in nude. If your tint has adequate light penetration, a lot of guys will give you a wolf-whistle or honk (or puke if you look like a walking clinical waste).

If no reaction is garnered from the exposure, then you know lah – your car needs a new tint job.

You’re most welcome.

michaelooi  | enlightenments  | 17 Comments
May 23, 2007

animals don’t give a crap about your feelings

The new female engineer has been down with gastric pain for 3 days since the beginning of the week. She didn’t turn up for work on Monday, but she showed up yesterday and today – looking lividly lethargic and all that. So I did a ‘concerned talk’ with her this morning.

Me : “So, you still have the gastric pain?”

No, she was feeling damn awesome. She intentionally put on some ghostly make up to freak everyone out – That was a fucking stupid question of course. I don’t know why I asked her that but it was my shtick to start a conversation.

Female engineer : “Yeah.”

She doesn’t talk a lot. At least to me. Maybe because of my reputation as a fearsome stud that rips uterus out of female engineers at my workplace.

Me : “I heard you’re a vegetarian of sorts?”

Female engineer : “Yeah. I don’t eat meat.”

Me : “Why? Are you going to get epileptic fit if you take meat? Or is this just a preference thing?”

Female engineer : “No specific reason. Just don’t like meat.”

Me : “Why? Is it because you hated the fact that animals have to be slaughtered for the meat? You’re feeling sorry for them?”

She gave out a sheepish smile and nodded. That was when I did the lecture…

Me : “You don’t have to feel sorry for them. They’re just our food. Just walk near any four legged animals and show some compassion, do you think they’re going to smile and thank you? Hell no. They won’t give a crap about your feelings. They’d move on like everyone else. So why bother? Just eat them. Your stomach needs proper protein-rich food like meat to digest. Otherwise, the digestive acid inside your stomach is going to get over-abundant and when there’s nothing else to digest, it’s gonna get piss mad and digest your own stomach. That is when you feel the pain. You get me so far?”

Female engineer : “Oh okay…”

I was just bullshitting of course. But it was kinda fun to see her freaked out like that. I continued even further anyway… for her own good…

Me : “And when the acid digested too much of your stomach, sooner or later it’s going to etch through it and you are going to get a hole inside your stomach. That’s when things will get much more complicated and you’d probably need to be hospitalized. And then we’ll all have to work like hell when you go missing, see?”

Female engineer : “…”

Me : “So, you need to eat animals to get better. If you don’t, well, we’re gonna eat an extra 2 animals for every animal that you abstain from eating. How’s that? It’s going to work out worse for you… and the animals…”

That was borrowed from Maddox. I think the idea was an awesome one – so I cited his phrase to make my point clear.

She probably looked more dumbfucked than anything else after the ‘concerned talk’. But it’s all for her own good, you see. How can one survive without the protein and those mineral craps that can only be obtained from meat? Do you see tigers get gastritis or constipation? No right? (check with your local clinic for records). That means, having some meat in your diet is good for your health.

I think I am an awesome mentor. I teach good stuff and I help people to get better – how often do you get that combination man?

michaelooi  | dialogs  | 35 Comments
May 21, 2007

missing something

I was having lunch at a restaurant and saw this loner lanky guy flagged the waitress over. The guy looked like he was unhappy about something and was ready to make a hell of an issue out of it.

Guy : “You forgot something. There’s something missing here. Can you spot it?” [extremely pissed look]

He spoke in a monotonous and bassy loud tone, that reverberated across the small interior of the cozy restaurant. The waitress stood in front of him dumbfucked and unable to figure out what was wrong with his order. He had a bowl of curry and a plate of rice – the exact order that he wanted and they were all there, served. She couldn’t spot anything wrong there. So the puzzled waitress did what any normal people like you and me would have done, she politely asked him what was missing. But instead of telling her that, the guy went spontaneous combustion and yelled at the waitress…

Guy: “Can’t you see for yourself?? You forgot something and you don’t know it!? I demand to speak to your manager!”

Feeling like she had just been cummed on the face by a total mean ass stranger, the freaked out and embarrassed waitress summoned her supervisor to the scene…

Supervisor : “Sorry mister, may I know what’s the problem here?”

Guy : “There’s something wrong with my order here, can you spot it?”

Supervisor : “Errr, what is it mister?”

Guy : “Can’t you see it?? This bowl of curry here!! Look carefully!” [point point]

Supervisor : [carefully looks at the bowl of curry like it’s a naked Norwegian model…]

Supervisor couldn’t figure it out either. Tension mounted and everyone could feel it in the air, including me on the opposite table. We got a piss mad customer quizzing 2 restaurant employees about his apparent missing ‘something’ in his bowl of curry… and nobody could figure it out. The pissed guy went even more pissed and yelled louder

Guy : “The ladle! You didn’t give me a goddamn ladle!! How am I going to scoop my curry without the ladle!?”

I was like, WTF!? all that drama for a fucking ladle!? If there were to be such a thing as the king of all assholes, this guy has got to be most prospective candidate. I mean, if he wanted a ladle, he could have just asked for it, right? But no. He had to yell and make someone’s life miserable just to satisfy his unscrupulous desire for a least important thing – like a missing ladle for his fucking bowl of curry.

That asshole was sure lucky that the supervisor wasn’t the kind of tough bitch that would have his ribs for breakfast. She just apologized, delivered him his fucking ladle and called it a bad experience. Have to give her the credit for that. If it were to be me, I would most probably shouted back at that asshole, or at least give him a ladle that has scraped the dead cells under my balls (to add taste to his curry for being such a veritable asshole).

I later conveyed my sympathy to the supervisor after the asshole left – it turned out that the guy has been quite a regular customer to that premise as of late and been ordering the same stuff. The supervisor also added that they have all along been serving him his curry without a ladle (they didn’t see it as necessary since he dines alone) and he has no issue about it until that day. Mental breakdown perhaps.

Here’s a snapshot of that asshole doing his bowl of curry (already with a ladle as you can see) and rice. Excuse me for the quality for it was taken with a phone camera over Emily’s shoulder.

uber asshole

michaelooi  | what I saw  | 31 Comments
May 18, 2007

the workshop admin

I was at this workshop waiting for my car to be serviced. Knowing that the whole thing might take quite a while to complete, I made myself comfortable at a couch inside an air-conditioned waiting room, which was right next to the workshop admin’s desk.

I flipped through a couple of magazines to kill some time, but eventually, bored down to doing nothing after that. That was when I shifted my attention to the admin (about 8 – 9 feet away), a mediocre looking lass in her early 20s. She had tiny tits and her ass wasn’t all that glorious, but I ogled at her anyway (I was bored, so it was acceptable…)

Nothing interesting happened for the first few minutes or so, until she squatted down to rummage for something in her lower drawer – that was when I caught a full glimpse of her tushy (she was wearing this really low slung pants, you see), which was full of what seemed to be like some sort of sores or blisters… as if she has coxsackie virus specifically attacking her at the posterior region. There were blisters all over her fucking ass. (well, technically, I only saw 40% of her ass… but I am confident that that her whole ass was infected)

I was like “OMFG”, like, what the fuck is wrong with her… why would she wear something like this to work. This is not the kind of stuff that people want to be shown in public. This is totally unlike tattoos or piercings. This is skin disease, goddamnit. Why would anyone want to parade around showing off their leprosy ass? I felt disturbed by the grisly sight and changed to look somewhere to save myself some trauma.

About 10 minutes later, Leper Girl started to act weird. I wasn’t looking at her but, I spotted her at the corner of my eyes. (we guys have wide-angle sight. I could be standing half feet in front of your face, but I can still see your tits at the same time. Believe it girls.) It was the kind of ‘on the lookout’ behavior that we guys normally do, whenever we want to take a piss into a drain. That was why I knew she was up to something no good.

Sure enough, after gotten the assurance that I ‘wasn’t looking’, she whipped out a small container of ointment, gouged a dollop of it with her index finger and began to rub vigorously on her ass. (I reckon that must be some antiseptic cream for her coxsackie rash). It was both funny and gross for me at the same time. Like, how often do you see a total stranger chick digging at her own ass applying cream on her apparent skin condition in front of you? I shit you not, I was almost at the verge of jumping out with my phone camera to capture that golden moment for my blog – but I wasn’t confident that my camera’s able to fire a shot fast enough before she shrieks and covers up.

So all that while, I was stifling not to give myself away. The hardest part was when I was asked by that Leper Girl to settle the bill for my car. Not wanting to touch anything that she had touched before, I opted to pay cash, but only to realize that I didn’t have enough. So I had no choice but to pay by card. Witnessing my card being ravaged by her contaminated fingers was the most uncool thing ever. (of course, I immediately washed my hands with an antiseptic soap when I got home. I probably need to disinfect the whole interior of my car as well…)

So the next time you think of whiffing your ringgit notes or picking your teeth with a credit card, think twice before you do it. You’ll never know what might end up inside your mouth…

michaelooi  | what I saw  | 18 Comments
May 15, 2007


I wanted to borrow something from Mojo Jojo

Me : “Dude, do you have some Kapton tape here that I can use?”

Mojo Jojo : “Oh sure. It’s right over there, on that koshtek.”

Me : “I’m sorry, what??”

Mojo Jojo : “. You know koshtek?” [point point]

He was pointing at a tape dispenser loaded with roll of Kapton tape…

Me : “Fuck! You call that thing a koshtek???”

Mojo Jojo : “Yeah, koshtek. I thought everyone knows that…”

Me : “For fuck’s sake dude, that thing is called a ‘tape dispenser’, not koshtek!”

Mojo Jojo : “Huh?”

Me : “The name is actually ‘Scotch tape’. Not koshtek. ‘Scotch’ is a brand name for cellophane tape. People like to call cellophane tape as ‘Scotch tape’ because the brand name is well established… just like what people would call plastic containers as ‘Tupperware’. Got it?”

Mojo Jojo : [sheepish grin] “Eheheh… thanks for the info.”

I was needless to say, baffled, to the depth of my soul. Like, how did Mojo Jojo :

a) get his engineering degree from USA?
b) get fucking hired as an engineer?

I took my leave after that, still unable to boot back into reality… but not before removing that roll of Kapton tape from his koshtek (now if that doesn’t sound obscene to you…)

michaelooi  | dialogs  | 25 Comments