December 18, 2011

trip to Korea

Went for a winter vacation at Korea for a week with my wife and kid. Was it good? It was alright overall. Not world class but, it was ok for the price we paid. 

One funny thing happened before I went there though. A couple days before I flew there, I called up the bank to activate my card for my ‘vacation in Korea’. I didn’t bother mentioning which of the 2 Koreas, but the attendant had to ask if it was ‘North or South Korea?’.. like that. I was totally dumbfucked – does that mean that people actually go to North Korea for vacation? Or was the attendant just being retarded? I don’t know. Anyway, it was South Korea that I went to, if one has to ask. It was an 8-day vacation and at times, it felt like forever. Why? A few down points made me felt that way:

1) Food
There’s one thing very prominent about Korean people – they suck at making food. We’ve been introduced to heaps of ‘famous’ Korean delicacies and in my own observation, they’re basically comprised of only 3 types of food – barbecue, steamboat and kimchi. You just dump in different types of meat into the barbecue grill, or a pot with soup, and slap it with a fancy name – chances is high that it is a type of Korean food. Any vegetable or fruit can also be made into kimchi. So, it’s just maths from thereon, you just combine your meat vs vegetables vs fruits vs the either barbecue/steamboat/kimchi – you get a whole culture of Korean food. They’re more or less the same. It’s fucking depressing really (for Penang people, especially).

2) Language
I was told that English is a compulsory subject in Korean education. But to my opinion, that is a complete bullshit (well, either that or, everyone failed their English). Unless you speak Korean, you’ll never get your shit together there. Road signs, maps, amenities, they’re all in Korean hieroglyphics. Communication is a big major cockblock there, so, backpacking is totally out of the question (unless you speak Korean or good at figuring out alien languages at warp speed). I was thinking, why do we humans even bother beaming binary messages to outer space in search for extra terrestrial intelligent beings out there in the universe, when we can’t even fucking get around understanding the Korean people in planet Korea. 

3) Weather
I am a cold person. I like cold weather. But that’s about it. Having to weather the dry and sub zero temperature is not my idea of having a relaxing vacation, as I have to laboriously lug along thick winter clothing in and out of the chill and in between heated environments. It wouldn’t had been that bad if everywhere’s cold, because I could just keep my clothing on. But it had to be cold outside, and extremely warm indoor. So it’s either freezing to the bone, or hot to the core. That’s the part I hate most, adding and removing the layers as you go to places. It sucks and makes me appreciative of not having to worry about carrying extra clothing everywhere I go… here in Malaysia. 

4) Old people
Young Koreans are beautiful (plastic fucking surgery), but the old ones are on the exact opposite end of the distribution curve. They’re rude and ignorant. In the span of 8 days, I’ve been shoved and elbowed by old Korean hags (with oddly familiar cauliflower hairstyles) for not less than a dozen times. They would walk into my line of sight every time I wanted to take a photo and they do not bother to give any fuck. If you ask me, this seems to point to a disturbing trend – old people, they’re fucked up no matter which culture they’re from. But Korean’s worse because of the remnants of silicon and overly ebony wig, which give them the appearance of a stop-motion special effects creature from the past. 

And that’s about all I hated about Korea. Otherwise, it would be an epic vacation. The landscapes there are no doubt beautiful – I particularly enjoyed the view at a place called Seongsan Ilchulbong, at Jeju island – it’s basically a dead volcano by the ocean, and is a UNESCO listed site or something. Then there’s this place where we took a cable car up a mountain range at Seoraksan National Park, with a view to die for. Also, went to a fake island with a bunch of trees and stuff where a purportedly famous Korean love drama was made – it was just alright but nevertheless, better than something like our Cameron Highlands. Then there’s the ski thing we did, it was alright. We were also brought to a theme park owned by Samsung called ‘Everland’, which records one of the happiest episode of my daughter’s life. 

Also, I would like to mention this – I’ve never encountered a dirty public toilet at Korea during the entire trip. This is a feat that is hard to achieve in my humble opinion. Maybe I’ve been to only the good places but, they seem to be on the better scale than most people (I’ve seen bad toilets even in the U.S.). They have the respective janitor’s picture with contact numbers posted in each of the restroom, which I think could be the trick. They make the janitor own the fucking toilet like it’s his joint. The guy’s a phone call away from cleaning your shit and he can’t go very far – I think we needed that in our country because our state of public toilet is downright abysmal. It’s little thing like this that makes a whole lot of difference, don’t you think?

After we came back home, my wife and I agreed on one thing, the visit to Korea actually made us appreciate our home country more. We whooped some Hokkien Mee the first chance we had back home and 2 back-to-back meals of chicken rice for Regine. It’s one thing about saying ‘there’s no place like home’, feeling it is an entirely different thing. We needed this vacation and we had it alright.

michaelooi  | places  | 6 Comments
November 29, 2011

community dinner

A colleague went about the lunch table inviting everyone to his neighborhood’s community dinner or something. With his neighbors, whom he has known for probably tens of years. That was when I convey my admiration to him, that it is something that I could never achieve… for I – if you can’t already tell – am not a very sociable person.

Hell, I don’t even know any of my neighbor’s name. When there’s a need to refer them as a character essential for a conversation (with my wife), I’d just conveniently refer them as ‘the guy with a brown dog’… ‘the blimp couple who shed weight’… ‘the guy who works in [company name]‘… ‘the Indian neighbor with fat kids’.. you get the idea. I’m just not the kind of person who would go around posing like I’m super friendly like that. Most of the time, when I see any neighbor near the elevator, I’d just go pretending to fumble for something in my car until he/she’s gone, and I’d get the elevator all by myself.

But lately, I think I made some progress. I could remember a couple of the kids’ names because some of them have been playing with my daughter Regine. I used to refer them as ‘that annoying kid who speaks with a lisp’… or simply ‘that little turd with long hair’. Now I remember their names. With names, I can refer to their parents as ‘[kid's name] mother’… instead of something like ‘that fat bitch with cellulite’. I think I might on to something here. Maybe I’d remember some of my neighbors’ names in a decade or two… and invite everyone for a community dinner or something.

michaelooi  | ramblings  | 1 Comment
November 17, 2011

invisible dick

Know what happens when a couch slob sees another bloke with tanned chiseled body taking his shirt off? Or when a flat chested girl next door sees a sex siren with killer curves and bigger cups? Or an alpha sees another with a bigger dick? Most likely, the subject will feel a sharp stab in his/her/its self esteem, and a big part of the subject’s confidence is lost.

Such is the nature of human. Most of us anyway. We’re a bunch of conceited shitfucks whose existence has now evolved into a contest of who-has-a-bigger-dick (not literally but, metaphorically). When parents meet, they’ll talk about how smart their kids are. Or how well off one of his relatives is, who owns a sports car, and let him test drive it. ‘Who has a bigger dick’. Posers and show-offs.

Revolting but if one knows how to play it well, can be turned into an advantage which one can exploit for an ulterior motive. That was what I preached a couple of technicians at work today. I revealed to them about why I have not cut my fucking hair for 4 months. I basically looked like a hair ball right now. My hair is long and I even have a pair of mutton chop side burns overgrown to my jowl. Why? That’s because the 2 jerk off managers I have been dealing with are afflicted with terminal male pattern baldness. Growing that much hair is my way of fucking with them.

The theory is, when a person sees another (or worse, a nemesis) with something they are not gonna get, that person would feel FUCKING BAD about himself. Like these 2 bald managers. I mean, we could be debating in a meeting or something, but chances are, they’re probably distracted with the fact that I, an asshole from their point of view, have a head full of motherfucking hair and that is just so depressing for them. With that, I would have unconsciously took a stab at their self esteem (without even having to do anything, but rake my long thick black hair in a wildly hobo-ish gesture) and would be that likely to win an argument. So far, it has worked great for me. I made them my bitches in all my inter-department altercations so far. 70% intelligence, 30% hair. 100% effectiveness.

Goddamn I’m awesome.

michaelooi  | enlightenments  | 5 Comments
November 9, 2011

text message

Remember the Indon inspector from this post? She was terminated about a month ago. Her problem? Emo and shit. Had a row with her then scrawny Filipino boyfriend – who also happens to work in the same place – and didn’t show up at work for 4 times. She was asked to resign. Heard she cried like she lost an uterus the day she was kicked out. But not a single fuck was given that day. A few days ago, she sent me a text message (if you don’t understand shorthand Malay cum Indon language, well that’s too bad then):

Indon – “Hi Michael, apa kbr… sibuk ke?¿ Cem mna QA yg tu, OK tak… Heheee..”

The Indon was referring to a new QA Inspector who replaced her. Following exchange of text messages ensued.

Me – “Dia ok. you kerja mana sekarang? kilang selipar jepun?”

Indon – “Hahahaa… Michael ni la. I kje RbrtBocsh skrg.. QA tu lembab cem i ke?¿ ‘;’”

Me – “you lebih lembab lar. Lembab you tu, boleh tanam cendawan. haha”

Indon – “I rasa QA tu lbih lmbab, sbb Engneer dy pun sama Lmbab jg…”

Me – “I rasa you jealous kot? janganlah. cuba makan lebih nasi ayam.”

Indon – “What? Jelous… Untk apa jelous dgn dy, tak cantik pun. Biasa je. I rasa, Michael la yg jelous. Sbb i dah tak kje kat stu lg. Heheee…”

Me – “takpe lar, I tak minat you pun. I lebih minat makan nasi ayam.”

Indon – “Hahahaaa… Mkn tu Nasi Ayam bnyk2, biar muka Michl pun cem ayam…”

Me – “abang filipino you pun rupa macam ayam, you pun suka juga.”

Indon – “Tak de lah,, stop please talk about Him. We broke Up already…”

Me – “oh, tukar kerja, abang pun ikut tukar? steady lar.”

Indon – “Bkn cem tu… Sblm i resign, kita org mmg dah ptus.”

Me – “itu pasal lar you jadi lembab. memang penting utk ada disiplin kalau nak kerja. Moga you ok kerja kat Bosch. kilang yg baik tu.”

Indon – “Tu lah… I pun tak blh nak focus wat kje. So, drpd bnyk was ssah org lain, lbih baik i keluar. Y, moga i blh lbih baik lg dkt kilang ni. Ok Mchl, Good Luck 4 u. Tq.”

I didn’t like the way she spelled my name as ‘Mchl’ – sounded like Ma Chao Hai Lei…

michaelooi  | dialogs  | 2 Comments
October 31, 2011

don’t talk to me at the urinal

There is always a thing that one shouldn’t do in places. Things that causes discomfort or even considered a taboo. Eg. holding a sharp object during an intercourse, or perhaps whipping out your dick in a kindergarten. You get the idea.

In a male lavatory, it has to be talking to the person next to your urinal. Some assholes are like that, you know. They don’t talk much when you see them in a corridor or any other places. But if it’s at the urinal, he strikes a conversation. It’s just so gay.

I don’t know about you people, but for me, relieving myself at the urinal is like taking a really short but deep break from a hectic day at the office. In that fraction of time, my mind would shut off into absolute nothingness (I’d close my eyes when that happens), or just delves itself in fantasies – like what would I wish for if I get a wish… or where would I hit my manager if given a free pass to do that. It’s totally random what my mind does, but it’s deep. It’s so goddamn motherfucking deep, that it would somewhat make the remnants of my day less intolerable.

And then somebody has to talk to you at the urinal. About work. That has nothing to do with you. Fucking hell.

michaelooi  | rantings  | 2 Comments