Archive for 2013

December 23, 2013

2013 roll up

I find myself not capable of expressing myself properly as of late. Not sure why but, I guess it must be an age thing. That probably explains the lack of content in this blog, which used to be like, updated everyday. But not anymore. Any insight to write anything is quick to lost in procrastination. Whatever I can gather, I made a pathetic effort to update it once a week or some shit like that. I find gratification in being left alone, not doing anything. It’s definitely an age thing. It has to be. I turned 36 this year, and majority of my co-workers are years younger than me and that has got to be depressing for some people. If my life is to be graphically represented by a download bar, you’d see the colored progress at 50% right now. Shit isn’t going to look pretty from this age on, and 2013 will be the beginning of those things. Fuck if it’s not an age thing.

Work life in ‘Company T’ has been somewhat mundanely good, but it is mostly boring. The most exciting thing that has ever happened to me there, was seeing how people bicker over simplest of things to get done (eg: it took 2 months for a couple of managers to map out the office cubicle seating for a group of no less than 20 people – how about that?). Company T, like Company X, is a massive corporation tangled up in a big messy ball of bureaucratic yarn. Your shit never gets done here. Not before it has gone through the reproductive systems of fuckloads of people and out of their assholes several times before it finally gets – at most – partially done. If you were to ask me, I’d prefer the pace of work in Company Y – you know, in spite of the lack of budget and shittier environment, perpetual work rhythm keeps us engineers sharp when everything we do has a direct interaction and shows its immediate effect. (If you do not know what I’m talking about, nevermind). Company T, in its bid to be a great place to work, has inadvertently became a breeding ground for sloths, and engineers are molded into delinquents that are never going to adapt well in the harsh environment of this cruel world. Just like that dickwad in my team who took it up to the management to have me investigated for a harassment charge when I ‘diplomatically castigated’ him for not getting his shit done in the right way (go search for the post – I’ve written about it). People back during my days used to get much severe rebuke than that, and we toughen up instead of getting pussier like this motherfucking piece of shit here.

Anyway, apart from fading into obscurity inside this capsule of timeless fluorescent space, I’ve also been busy going to fetch my daughter from the school everyday. I had to battle the traffic against the hordes of inconsiderate drivers just to reach the school on time, and it gets worse when I encounter an inclement weather. And her schoolbag, oh my fucking god, is so damn heavy that schoolbags now have to have wheels on them. I don’t remember it was this fucking hard for my parents. I lugged my schoolbag myself (which was like, 90% lighter than it is today), and I could take a bus without worrying about being kidnapped/raped by sickos out there. But it is all so different now. We can never let our children take a bus alone anymore. The country has gotten so fucked up, that even adults get kidnapped and raped in the broad daylight. That’s why the traffic has gotten worse, everyone fucking drives a car to fetch their kids from school themselves, and it is the system that is to be blamed, not the people.

So there you go, a typical life of a working father – not much fanfare or colors. Just to strive daily for survival and time for the kid as a responsible parent. Not much prospect at career either (At this age and time, I should be grateful for having a job instead of bumming). I definitely hope 2014 would be better, but I seriously doubt it’d be any different from this year.

[I’m not going to be writing until next year – so, Merry Christmas or whatever]

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December 16, 2013

Tips for you outstation rustic bumpkins visiting Penang for holidays

A collection of insights published on my Facebook status:

Tips for you outstation rustic bumpkins visiting Penang for holidays:

#1 – No, the people of Penang do not have telepathic capability to read your mind. You still need to use your indicator when you change lanes or turn at junctions.

#2 – The dashed lines on the roads of Penang are called lane separators – just like wherever you’re from. No the line does not go between your wheels. It doesn’t work like Pac Man.

#3 – That small narrow left-most lane with solid white line is not an express lane or an overtaking lane, you idiot. It’s an emergency lane. And no, rushing to your destination is not considered ‘emergency’ in Penang.

#4 – The roads in Penang are narrow. If you lost your way and need to check your GPS or whatever, DO NOT stop in the middle of the road to do it. Stop somewhere safe or park your vehicle, just get the fuck out of the way.

#5 – Locking the wheel of your illegally parked vehicle is our unique way of welcoming you to our state. True story.

#6 – If you can’t get a table at a restaurant, don’t just stand beside mine and stare at me eating. It’s not going to help. It’s actually considered rude in Penang, and will reciprocate by eating even slower (the longer you wait, the happier we get).

#7 – You do not need to desperately make illegal U-turns in Penang, like how you did it at home. That’s because no matter how lost you get, you’re still in the island.

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December 2, 2013

People I hate: Superbikers

You know those big bike riders right? I hate them. Well, not all of them, but a big percentage of them. Always riding in groups, with their high cc bikes… revving around. That’s fine for me, actually. What bothers me most, is that some of them actually think that they own the roads just because they’ve paid a fucking high premium for their bikes. They have this self inflated huge ego and elevated sense of being superlative in existence, and therefore, they think everyone should just make way for them! They ride like jerks and they think the price they pay for their expensive bikes justifies that.

I’ve seen them doing this many times. In big groups. Usually making trips over a few hundred km’s to attend a gathering at a renowned ‘ikan bakar’ joint or something. Usually nothing of importance but, they have to honk all the way through their journey to pave everyone out of their way like the whole world revolves around them! Like, what the fuck! Why can’t these dipshits ride like any other law abiding road users?? Why must everyone give way to them?? Is it because they are in a bigger group and therefore we all must yield for them to pass? Fuck that! To me, that logic is no different from being a group of thugs – i.e. they can do whatever they want because they’re in a bigger group. In that sense, doesn’t that make them retarded or something? Because if that logic is kosher, wouldn’t it be way better for them to just rob a fucking bank instead of doing something inane like paving their journey through a heavy traffic? Oh that’s right, they don’t have the balls to do that – nevermind.

Just the other day, a group of these typical bikers rode through a 2 way country road with moderate traffic (I was in the traffic). They didn’t even have really big bikes, just some stupid Dukes and 250ccs (spotted a couple of Africa twins though). 2 of the front bikers (marshalls or something like that) – tried to stop the entire 2 way traffic so that their retarded bike buddies could pass. Guess what happened? None of the kampung folks gave a shit about these asswipes. Their futile attempt to stop traffic was comical, nearly turned tragic when a few of the idiots had to brake frantically when they realize with their minuscule brain that the vehicles from the oncoming traffic were going to run them over and weren’t going to yield. They had to queue up like everybody else, but sped like ‘monyet kena belacan’ when the oncoming traffic clears (to control the ego damage I guess, which they do best…)

Fucking morons. And you people wonder why so many bikers get killed in traffic – they had it coming!

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November 18, 2013

fire alarm

Found out from an ex-colleague (a high ranking management guy from Company X) about a messed up fire drill at Company X recently. Apparently, there had been a spate of fire alarm testings at Company X, and that had resulted many employees ignoring the fire alarm during the drill, thinking that it was just another ‘test’. The result? People still sitting in the office not giving a fuck about the drill, and that didn’t go very well with the management.

Well, that isn’t something new for me. When I was with Company X, fire alarm testing was a very common thing. The management would send out email alerts over such ‘tests’ and would ask employees to ignore them. I have no idea on why they have such a compelling screwed up need to test the fire alarm so many fucking times in a quarter, but let’s just say, it has left many employees there apathetic to the sound of fire alarm going off. And that, my friend, is not a good thing because if a real fire were to break out, many people in Company X would fucking die in their cubicles reading emails or tweeting their last moments in office (not that it’s a bad thing ridding the world of such shitbags but, out of humanitarian reasons, let’s assume it is…).

It then hit me like a train – if fire alarms do not work for them, why do they bother using fire alarms then? Why don’t they think of some other ways to make the people beeline to the nearest emergency exit? I recall of a thing called ‘stink bombs’ when I was in my school days. It’s basically a small concoction in a small glass tube, which you throw to break and let out a gas attack that stinks like rotten eggs. The result? People would evacuate the area in matter of seconds. At least it seemed to be working for me everytime.

“Oh shit it’s a stink bomb lets get the fuck outta here!!”

So instead of fire alarms, companies can just install these nozzles that are hooked to this stinky gas concoction – and this stinky gas ‘attack’ would trigger instead of the ineffective alarms. Add a few auxiliary fans to disperse the gas, and the whole place would stink up in a blink of an eye. This would result everyone to fucking sprint to their feet and run like they’ve been chased by the scariest thing imaginable. Lives would be saved and families would rejoice. Sure enough, the stink would remain in the office / clothing for quite a while if this were to be a drill (would be a non-existent problem if it’s a real fire), but that’ll make them even more piss scared next time, and would motivate them to bail out faster. But ultimately, it’s still a petty price to pay for a guaranteed safe working environment, don’t you think? My colleagues laughed at the idea like it’s meant for to be funny and amusing, but I think this shit is seriously efficient, and it’s a patent-able technology that could save many lives… Come think of it, maybe I should quit my job to chase this stink bomb prospect….

michaelooi  | imaginations  | Comments Off
November 6, 2013

pig

It really bugs me when someone throws a hackneyed insult, and acts like it’s the best thing ever. I am especially referring to the term (which many of you have heard before in forums, blogs et al) – ‘Cina babi’ [sic]. It translates to ‘Chinese pig’ (the correct term should be ‘Babi Cina’). A lot of this come from hateful people who are mostly Malay, who have the propensity to liken someone of Chinese ethnicity to a creature that they averse most – the pig. But little do they know, that the pig, is actually quite an all-rounder useful creature for the Chinese.

You see, when the Chinese pray, having a roasted pig for offering signifies wealth and generosity. When the Chinese celebrate, they have various dishes of pork as food and they share with their guests when they do that – again, that’s to paint an impression of being generous. When a Chinese couple gets married, they send roasted pig(s) as dowry, sometimes they trade the body parts too. The Chinese share their love and care with soup, and most of their soup are boiled fragrant for hours with pork bones. A lot of their idioms, phrases and words lend the word ‘pig’ to form a whole new meaning. Hell, they even have epics and poems dedicated to pigs! A pig grows very quickly, reproduces easily and therefore, offers high meat return ratio per pound of feed given (which, can be recycled from human food waste), which makes it ideal for farming. Pig farmers are often very rich people, and the society hold high regards for this profession. Almost all the parts from a pig can be used, even the hair (as paintbrush, to paint the beautiful art of their mountains and mystical animals). And pardon me for asking in a befuddled state of mind – what is wrong with associating us with pigs? We love pigs! An insult? Come on! It’s just like calling one the food you people love as an insult… like ‘Melayu Belacan’ or ‘Melayu Cincaluk’ or ‘Hindu Poppadom’ or ‘Orang Putih Kentang Goreng’… doesn’t make a lot of sense, right?

You can call me or my friends a pig, but we don’t really feel a thing. The Chinese has been literally thrown with all kinds of insults (even more commonly, their parents…), and they’re kinda biologically inured to it (that’s only because we’re so goddamn ubiquitous – we’re more than 1/5 th of the world population you stupid cheebye, and we have more creative insults invented in all the Chinese dialects than any other language in this world combined). So, nothing can really hurt them/us… except one thing – which I’m going to reveal here. You want to fuck with the Chinese and really screw them up? There’s only one way to do it – Be more successful than that Chinese person, and gloat about it. It’s an open secret that every Chinese knows. They can’t stand a successful smug. They’re going to get butthurt much, no matter how hard they deny it. Don’t believe me? Check what the housewives gossip about during Chinese New Year… there has to be some bitch with a little too much bling that stings them like salt to a big ass canker sore inside their toxic mouth. Or parents comparing their offsprings with someone else’s. It revolves around someone else’s success, and their own failure. Don’t ask a Chinese about it, he/she will of course deny it, for this is a truth. Just exploit this and see for yourself, how a person implodes from the inside, and THAT, my friend, is the Chinese’s Archille’s Heel. NOW, you can insult us properly. (but beware, what doesn’t kill a Chinese, will motivate him/her to be stronger and make a comeback!)

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