July 13, 2015


When I was in my primary years, I had this strange ambition of wanting to be a teacher, for some twisted reasons only known to myself. A few weeks ago, I saw my 9 year old daughter, Regine, role-played as a teacher during her playtime at home. That was when I remarked to her –

Me: “So, you like to be a teacher huh? What happened to being a doctor?”

Regine: “If I can’t be a doctor, I can be a teacher.”

Me: “I know why you wanted to be a teacher.” *smile*

Regine: *smile*

Me: “I wanted to be a teacher when I was little too. And I think it’s for the same reason as you do.” *smile*

Regine: *smile*

Me: “I think you wanted to be a teacher because you get to beat the kids” *smile*

Regine: *+20,000 watt smile*

Yes, I fantasized about the power that a teacher wields – what could be more fun than beating up annoying kids without getting into trouble (this statement was still true back then)? I used to think about 101 ways to make my classmates’ lives miserable. Aren’t you guys fucking glad that I didn’t turn out to be a school teacher?

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July 3, 2015

12 years

12 years ago today, I started this blog. How long is 12 years? It is long enough to:
…wage two and a half World War I’s. WWI only took ~4.3 years
…wage two World War II’s. WWII only took 6 years.
…span more than half the career of a professional soccer player.
…have the opportunity to change the Malaysian government TWICE!
…witness at least 1 rotation of a new US president.
…conceive the Star Wars universe and complete the screening for Episode 4, 5 & 6.
…progress from accessing the WWW with a 14.4k dialup modem on a desktop PC to wifi on a notebook computer (it actually took less than 10 years).
…complete your fucking primary education.
…build the Petronas Twin Towers… 3 fucking times (it took only 4 years to build the 2 towers)
…EOL at least 8 models of iPhone (iPhone started in 2007, and it’s only iPhone 6 now).
…watch 3 World Cups and 3 Summer Olympics.
…rack up about 240,000km of mileage in your car.
…complete 85% of African-American Civil Rights movement at USA.
…reach planet Neptune with Voyager 2 space probe.
…revolutionize the display from bulky CRT to thin ass HD LCD for both the TV and monitor industry.
…transform from a young early adopter of blog reading to an old fart/hag with no life lurking in some obsoleted nonsensical blog.

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June 21, 2015

Father’s Day

My daughter made me a cup of coffee today for Father’s Day. It tasted not as good as I would have liked it, but it was one of the best damn coffee I’ve had. Such is the power of a parent’s love.

I didn’t even know my own father when I was a kid, let alone to appreciate a day for him. Father’s Day was non existent for me until I turned adolescent. My father and my mom got separated when I was 6, and I never knew about how having a father at home felt like. My mom back then, in order not to overburden herself explaining stuff to a kid, made things simple by telling me that my dad was a bad guy and that I should stay the fuck away from him. Whenever he missed me and came visiting, my mom would ask me to hide in the room and we’d pretend nobody was home until he went away. Sure enough, I’d still get to meet him on and off, like during Chinese New Year et al, but it was never long and memories of those short meetings are somewhat blurry.

But one day when I was 11, I made an effort to meet up with my father without my mom’s knowledge – that was when she went for a week long vacation (yep, my mom would leave me tending to myself for weeks, since I was little. Had gotten used to it). I took a bus to the town, and met him up at my grandma’s house (which he was staying at). That short few days, my father and I caught up with each other, and he brought me around to eat street food (I still remember what we ate), to the cinema (it was a big deal going to cinemas back then – we watched “A Fish Called Wanda”) and we went around to meet his old friends (he didn’t have a transport because he was pissed-fuck poor, we either walked or took a trishaw). By today’s standard, it might not amount to anything significant, but for me who was brought up in a single parent environment – it was the first time I felt having another someone whom I can bond with and really talk to. (my dad was the reasonable one between my parents. He was much more cool headed and intelligent. My mom was the disciplinarian and talking to her was impossible).

We parted after that few days, and said goodbye at a filthy bus station next to Penang’s famous transvestite street (Kuantan Road, ask around). I boarded the famous green city bus the night before my mom came home, and I got teary eyed in the bus throughout the journey home. That week, was my Father’s Week, and I still remember them today. Every day in that week, was the accumulated Father’s Days I missed with my father through the years (and we didn’t know it). We kept in touch for a couple more years after that week and one night, I brought my father home to my mom. They rekindled their relationship in 1989 (that’s roughly a year after that Father’s Week), and in 1990 – they saved enough to buy a new home and we moved in there together for the first time as a complete family (with my sister, who miraculously appeared after running from home for quite a while).

That was the only period we were completely together. They got separated again in 1999. House got sold, and all of us were separated from each other. Didn’t get together until 2 years later, when I brought Emily to meet my mom and moved in to live at her rented house. Emily and I bought a house in 2002, and the 3 of us moved in together (that’s the closest semblance of a complete family ever got after 1999). I still kept in contact with my father after the 1999 break, but we never lived together again until his death (from liver cancer) in 2003. My mom lived to meet my daughter Regine, and decided to leave us in 2011 by ending her own life after a serious falling-out with her siblings.

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June 9, 2015


A few days ago, I ranted the following in my Facebook account:

MAS employees kena retrench? Big cock deal! We in engineering kena all the time. Who feels sorry for us? Man the fuck up and look for another job lah!

Idiots don’t get unemployed. Lazy people do. (look at Ahmad Maslan, he has a job…)

As long as you have the will, there’s always a way to earn a living. If anyone thinks there’s no life after losing a job, get the fuck out of your rock and visit a spastic center and let those underprivileged people there teach you a thing or two about life.

That was done in rage after I got so sick of reading shitloads of shares in Facebook about how wretched it is going to be for those MAS employees to be retrenched like that, as if they’re getting all their limbs amputated or something.

Let me reiterate, you clueless blips out there… retrenchment happens to everyone all the time! All the fucking time! Do we die?? No we fucking move on that’s what suppose to happen! Now look at some of these MAS sore losers, they even had the gall to threaten a strike if they’re not given back their former job (I presume, with the overpaid OT and shit)!

Nufam: Rehire MAS staff or we will strike
PETALING JAYA: An employees union is threatening a strike if Malaysia Airlines (MAS) does not retract the termination letters it served on 6,000 of its staff.

The National Union of Flight Attendants (Nufam) said it was giving MAS 48 hours as of Tuesday to recall its termination letters and re-hire these workers.

“If the above conditions are not met within 48 hours, employees affected will all undergo (a) tools-down campaign against the airline throughout and continuously will protest against Malaysia Airlines,” said Nufam president Ismail Nasaruddin (pic).

He said this protest would continue until “fruitful results” were met.

Nufam claims to represent some 3,500 MAS staff.

Malaysia Airlines, which is being restructured, has served termination notices to 20,000 of its staff.

However, some 6,000 of them will not be re-hired when the carrier becomes Malaysia Airlines Berhad from Sept 1.

“Down tools” is British slang which means “stop working”.

Ismail said the union wanted MAS to renegotiate the terms it sent to its staff.

He advised MAS to re-hire its employees and offer to them a voluntary separation scheme (VSS) instead of merely terminating them.

Nufam, he said, also sent a memorandum to the Human Resources Ministry demanding that the airline retract its conditions set on its staff.

The fucked up MAS management resorted to purge employees in order to cut losses and to buy itself a desperate chance to restructure its organization. Striking to get back on the job in this situation? That’s like threatening to refuse sex with your divorcing partner to get back the lost marriage (no love involved). The company wants you to leave and you’re threatening not to work?? If that isn’t retarded, then tell me what is.

These people who had been overfed their greed on a stressed-to-the-limit teat in the form of overpaid claims/overtimes, from the way I see it, are now making a final desperate bid to bilk off MAS one final time. Hello macha… duit dah habis lar. Go update your resume lar.

The problem with the company is chronic and widespread, all accumulated through the years from wanton spending and lack of budget planning. Management songlap, employees “pokmeng claim” (claim inconsiderately/ignorantly), it’s just like watching a coin miraculously rogue rolled on the ground for a distance that’s beyond believable, and now it finally flipped too late in time… so late, that people have forgotten that it shouldn’t have gotten there in the first place.

From the way I see it, better fold lar, this MAS. Start from scratch a new airline. It will be way easier than to cure a deeply-rooted diseased old tree. Give the airline a new name. MPK (Malaysia Punya Kapalterbang)… or KNN (Kapalterbang Nusa Negara)… something like that…

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May 26, 2015

the red bridge

There’s this left-turn junction at a 3 lane expressway near my workplace that is always congested every morning during the peak hour. The reason is simple: high volume of vehicles required to slow down to turn to that junction. This is exacerbated with the fact that the junction is made up entirely of a slight inclining bridge.

In an ideal situation, one will have to keep to the left lane (and slow down) to make a turn to the inclining bridge. It can be dangerous to turn left from the middle or right most lane of an expressway. But this logic – like in any other similar traffic condition – does not bide well with most drivers in the area. Inconsiderate drivers will just fucking stop at the middle lane, and shove into the queue or directly into the junction. If one can detect infrared from the amount of curses dispensed from a person’s mouth, that area would have been a hotspot glowing in white.

I use the left lane all the time, and I have to contend with this shit whenever I’m on time at work (I’m usually earlier than everyone else, you see…). I must say, I have grown quite inured to it and most of the time, I’d just let those bastards shove into the left lane without any fuss.

But a couple days ago, a luxury MPV (or a minivan, some may call it) speed-shoved into my lane (without switching on the indicator) that it almost grazed my car. My quick reflex saved me an accident and possibly a homicide in the area. I managed to get ahead of the MPV and saw through my rearview mirror a middle-aged balding skinny fuck behind the wheel, who had an odd shaped head like he was clamped too hard with a pair of forceps in the head when he was delivered into the world at a substandard hospital. After a round of customary cussing that only myself could hear, my rage subsided and I continued my way towards Company T and into its parking lot.

Took my time to find a good lot, and then I walked towards my lab. That was when I saw that soapbox MPV again, parked near the building entrance with its engine running. The toxic avenger lookalike bald-headed skinny fuck was in there, keeled over in the driver seat. So the guy must had been having a heart attack which prompted him to drive like an ass! I then rushed towards the van pronto, broke its window, dragged the misshapen guy out of his seat and proceeded to give him a CPR (I snuck in a couple of punches to his face in the process). I saved his life and he woke up in stupor to a bloody nose and a broken window.

Alright, I made the CPR part up. He was slumped in his seat alright, but not from heart attack but from exhaustion. Probably had a night out romping with a cheap prostitute. The guy was sleepy on wheels, which made him drove like he’s on a suicide mission. That fucker shouldn’t have been born, and yet he’s a manager in Company T. Cruel world.

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