*long post…

I never was or will be a religious guy … and never really believed in god or something like that. A libertine of sorts. But the opposite goes for my mom. Poor mom still believes in god … especially the God of Fortune which she believes could bring her plenty of luck… and wealth.

That’s why, out of her dilapidated mind, she insisted me to take my new car (Lorraine) for a blessing on Saturday morning. A blessing from the gods to ensure that my car is rid of all evils and safe to be used as a transport. (truth is …. she wanted my number to go up first prize in 4D). Which I protested vehemently. But she threatened to scratch my Lorraine if I don’t comply her requirements.

So, I had no choice but to dig my ass up from bed to pay a visit to our local Indian temple to bless my new car. Yep, you heard it right, Indian temple. I do not know why but, it has been a common practice of sorts for Penangites to have their new cars blessed at an Indian temple. Perhaps the Chinese deities don’t have the expertise/technology to handle our cars…. *shrugs

I was still feeling nauseous from having too much drink the night before — and to wake up alone was a torture enough for me, what more to drive in that groggy state. Nevertheless, I managed to make it to the temple with Emily, which was located approximately the distance to the moon away…

Upon reaching there, I inquired a dude who was sitting behind a counter (yes, they have a counter at that temple) about the blessing service on my new car. Without even giving much explanation, the guy whipped out a book of receipt and asked for my car’s registration number — which I promptly gave him. He then filled in my name and my car registration number into that ‘receipt’… which looked more like a ‘ticket’ that costed 15 bucks … and asked me to pay up before submitting the ‘ticket’ to their priest.

The priest was hanging out with some of his buddies chewing betel leafs (sirih) when we approached him. He seemed to already knew what to do when I passed him the ‘ticket’ and proceeded to guide me to a shrine with a plethora of milk / coconut offerings. He asked for my car keys and buried it inside a coconut bowl full of flowers… and started to chant some mantra… which I think was about praising the gods so that He couldn’t help but oblige my request for a bless, to ensure my ABS brakes are working properly when needed… my rack & pinion power steering works till eternity… my airbags would deploy effectively in case of trouble… etc etc.

I was thinking of requesting the priest to ask God for an extra 50 or so horse power on Lorraine’s engine but hey… for 15 bucks… I think that’s a bit too much. Anyway, upon finishing the chant, the priest gave us some ash, followed by some yellowish powder (which I think was turmeric powder) and some red colored ones as well — all to be marked on our forehead. Then, the priest poured us some holy water to be consumed — which I reckoned was suppose to reduce the thirst that I’m having from the heavy drinking the night before. How understanding.

Then, the priest retired back to that corridor chewing more betel leafs… while his assistant (which have an uncanny resemblance of Samuel Jackson) passed us a tray of religious offering comprised of coconuts, more flower petals and some camphor. We were then asked to walk a full round encircling the shrine while carrying that tray. Then Samuel (the priest assistant) led us to our new car and began to chant even more mantras. This time, I think it was about the tires… make sure they don’t get punctured easily… make sure the balancing and alignment are well taken care of spiritually… make sure the fuel consumption of the car is good ….. make sure the drag coefficient of my car is greatly reduced… etc etc.

After completing the chant, Samuel then began sticking moisted turmeric powder on various parts of my car : top of the windscreen… both the number plates… rear windscreen… all the 4 wheels…. and even one on my steering. Emily asked me what were the moisted turmeric powder for (which looked like an orange colored plasticine/play-doh)… I told her that the Gods needed some ’spiritual’ sensors around our car… so that He’ll be able to watch over us through somekind of magical CCTV from his place. That was just a joke to lighten up the moment… the fact was I don’t have the slightest clue what were they for, except some grave concerns that they could probably discolor the new layer of metallic paint.

Then, Samuel stuck a lime under each of our 4 tires, which he then asked me to drive slightly forward to squish them. Again, I do not know why do I need to squish those innocent limes, but I reckoned those limes could be some sort of symbolic representation of illegal motorcycle racers on the road, asshole pedestrians and whatnots… squish them so that they won’t get in our way…. something like that. Then, Samuel burn up a pinchful of camphor on top of a coconut… and for what seemed to be an endless of odd procedures, he asked me to break that coconut on the floor.

At this point, I remembered that my mom actually told me that the coconut should be completely smashed… else I will have bad luck for eternity (yeah right). So, I took no chances and proceed to fling that coconut with all my might on the floor — which it disintegrated into smaller pieces and spraying its water in random direction… soaking my bermuda shorts wet. This time, the coconut represented those vagabonds driving heavily modified automobiles with loud exhaust pipes… smash them into pieces so that they would be instantly repelled. Muahahah …

Samuel then began to strew an abundant amount of flower petals on our car, which looked superbly nice and colorful… until he opened our car door and scattered the remaining of the petals into our car dashboard. Emily and I were flabbergasted by what Samuel did. The petals, pollens, stigma and buds were littered all over my car interior. Was that suppose to be somekind of message from God that we need to vacuum our car more often?

The flower flinging ceremony marks the end of the blessing… and I was finally allowed to go home after that grim episode of attention demanding procedures. Driving never felt any safer after the blessings… and surprisingly, Lorraine responded better too… horsepower increase… I reckoned.

You know, when I was with my old car, I used to be carefree, bold and dangerous. Heck, I don’t even give a hoot about a dog crossing the road. So what if I run over a dog ? Not that I’m gonna have to bury or organize a funeral for that four legged son of a bitch. I don’t respect potholes nor bumps. And I can basically go anywhere with my car ..dirt roads, slum car parks, ghetto markets, moon, mars, jupiter .. anywhere….

What about me with my new car now ? I started to get paranoid. I begin to slow down to almost a halt when I see potholes or uneven road. I started to get phobia on driving my car to any places with high concentration of traffic. I started to worry about tyre pressure … the gas … the noise .. everything. I begin to have nightmares — that somebody might scratch my car … some bird might took a dump on my car’s brand new layer of metallic paint … some other vehicle gang banging my second wife Lorraine …

I’m starting to lose my appetite to whack food … lose my interest in girls and sex … and before long, i will lose my social life to isolate myself in a dark corner succumbing to my own mental fear… Arrgggh

Somebody… please… tell me this is suppose to be normal.

I finally met my second wife yesterday, Lorraine. She is such a beauty. Emily liked her very much too. The reason I did not blog yesterday was because I was fiddling with her too much … until I lost track of time.

Now that she has officially moved to live with us, I’m sure my days ahead will be much happier. The 3 of us gonna have a lot of fun together.

Can’t wait to fondle her after work.

Who say you’ll need an expert to review a car ? Bullchit. I can do it too (despite the fact i know nuts about cars).

I was looking at a Honda City, can’t help to think — what an ugly car it is. Short front .. and long back. According to some expert, it’s suppose to be a ‘bubble design’ concept, where it played an important role to cause my neighbour’s dog sustaining an erection without a bitch. Kidding. It’s suppose to make the car more aerodynamic. To some less techie dudes, aerodynamic is a type of very fast bird.

Well, it was a direct cross from Honda Jazz (the short front) plus our asian’s uncanny preference of big trunks — thus, they came up with the design of Honda City. Talking bout big trunk, I do not understand why we asians wanted cars with big trunks. Personally speaking, i didn’t mind cars for having a small trunk. Why would we need a trunk so big ? Stuff our mother in laws inside ? Not me. I only use it store my 24-7 ready 10 lbs bowling ball and a pair of soccer boots inside.

The new Honda City definitely was designed to suit the taste of us asians. It has a short front (good for those idiots who have problems parking their car) and a gigantic trunk. 500 liters, enough to store 6 mother in laws inside (depends on your mother in law’s size). The final look is — something that resembled the flower horn fish. It’s fucking ugly. I bet if a kid were to asked to draw a Honda City and submit his work to his art teacher — he would get a real thorough spanking for drawing a lopsided car… and get an -F for it. No shit.

I went to the Honda showroom yesterday and frankly speaking, although I didn’t liked the look of that darn car, I was very impressed with the quality of it’s interior. Everything felt solid and in it’s place. Some say it’s luxurious - but I’m pretty sure those are just a bunch of ah beng’s that are unfamiliar with cream coloured dash or probably haven’t seen a luxury car before. It’s neat and pretty inside - yes. Luxurious ? - still a lot to add.

Alright, I tried to ask for a test drive but unfortunately, the demo car wasn’t in - so, I kinda missed the driving part. Hence, I did the next best thing - I positioned myself on the driver’s seat & fiddled around with it’s control like a virgin kid’s first love-making experiencing a girl’s body. The very first thing i noticed was - it’s limited leg room under the steering. It’s too fucking small for fully grown guy like me. I mean, it doesn’t even have enough space to house a simple foot rest … and if my size 10 shoe were to be any bigger, it would be impossible for me to stretch both legs when driving.

It would have been better if the trunk were to be made smaller to give more space to cabin. I preferred a larger cabin anytime than having a large trunk. The car is more suitable for a young girl or housewife, not a savage bloke like me.

But nevermind, not that I’m interested in Honda City anyway. I was just curious of it’s fame… and went to check if it really lived up to it’s reputation. Apparently, not. The car’s ugly - period. Besides, nobody really knows if the CVT gearbox could cost an arm & a leg in case it needed any replacement.

I walked out of the showroom without looking back. Time to move to other options.

*If one’s asking why the sudden craze about cars - yes, I am planning to change my car. Budget ? 85K max. I’m now scouring for bits of info to aid my buying.

Saw the aftermath of an accident when I was on my way home today. A Proton Iswara Aeroback ran into the rear of a Hyundai Sonata. The scene was quite bizarre, really, because from my point of observation, it didn’t look like an accident at all. It looked more like a blooper. Know why? That’s because only the Proton sustained damage - half of its hood was folded back, while the Hyundai was basically unscathed.

Magic of Proton, people would usually say. It has been quite a common sight for most Malaysians, to see a Proton get wrecked beyond recognition even from a small bumper collision. This is not because it is overly efficient at absorbing impact or something like that, but because it sucks. People have been saying that all Protons are made from recycled Milo cans, but I think even that is an overstatement. I think they’re made from recycled condom foil. *shrugs*

I wonder why would our government bother to control speed limit at our national highways? Safety my ass. Just look at our Proton. No airbags. Poor quality. Looks like shit. Just take a look at that ‘Tiara’, for instance. That thing basically looks like a portable toilet with wheels. And then look at that ‘Juwara’… my god… I don’t know if it should even be called a ‘vehicle’. Even my washing machine looks better than it…

So, what the fuck is wrong with these Proton engineers? Have they got no eyes and brain? Look at the pieces of junk they’ve manufactured. They’re a disgrace, and yet they dare to claim that they are the leading automobile company in Asia. It’s like a big joke we make to ridicule ourselves. A bad experiment gone awry.

I believe a lot of Malaysians have no choice but to buy Proton cars as they are the cheapest around in the market. I have no objection about the pricing but, just one thing — someone has got to make sure that we get the acceptable quality for what we pay for… But sadly, this isn’t happening. Yet.