Monday, November 01, 2010

Dude...I totally need to get laid

I totally stole this from Vegetable Assassin. It is basically a list of 5 fictional characters-that-I-would-like-to-fuck-their’s-brains-outs. In not so many words, of course…But yes, that’s the point basically. The first thing that came to my mind when reading was; “Damn, 5 wouldn’t cut it.” I mean….I has been doing the nasty with 2D, fictional, non-existing fictional character in this delusional head of mine since like forever. Five is such a restricting number but I shall endeavour, ya’ll. I shall endeavour.

Coming in at number 5:

Cho Hakkai of Gensoumaden Saiyuki.

Yes, yes….I know. An anime character. Don’t judge bitches, as if you never lust after an anime character. He's my favourite of the Saiyuki gang. He's polite, well-mannered and also the sneakiest, most manipulative and unexpectedly dangerous member of the Sanzo Party. He’s the type that would be asking how your day was with a smile on his face while stabbing you in the gut with a blunt knife...for added dramatic effect. Plus, he always has a book with him and a man (albeit a fictional, 2D, non-existing one) who reads always get my heart all-a-flutter. Also, he’s kind of a nerd which I like very, very much.

Number 4:

Greg Sanders of CSI Season 1-5

I specifically mentioned the seasons cause this dude was only hot in the first 5 seasons BEFORE CSI jumped the shark. I used to be obsessed with the show. I even own Seasons 1-5 on DVD yo and after that it just went down. Seriously, someone cancel the show already. It’s just a shadow of its former glory. Anyways, Greg Sanders: the Early Seasons was a hot piece of ass. This was still during his wisecracking-nerdy CSI worshipper-lab rat days. Ah those scenes of him wearing the lab coat, spewing all those scientific stuff I don’t understand and then smiling with those dimples….ahh….good times. So you can take the buffed up, CSI Sanders of today and give me the nerdy, lab rat of years gone by any day of the week.

Number 3:

Sandor Clegane aka “The Hound” of George R.R Martin’s epic high fantasy series:A Song of Fire and Ice.

Sandor is described in the book as monstrously ugly. The left side of his face is completely burnt, either by fire...or by a dragon. A dragon burnt his face y’all! No seriously think about that. How fucking awesome is that?! He has long black hair that he brushes over the burned section of his head where no hair grows. Basically, this is one ugly mofo....but Martin weaves his words so well that Sandor is portrayed as pretty damn sexy in the books.

Okay sure he kills and pillage...and oh rapes village wenches and then kidnaps Sansa Stark, who is betrothed to Prince Joffrey Baratheon and therefore the next in line to become Queen of the Realm. I mean come on, kidnapping the future queen? That shit is badass! Dragons and queen kidnapping! I am in awe with this man.

And I’m sorry okay, maybe some villages are just asking to be pillaged and plunder. The man was burnt by dragon’s breath, see if you don’t have issues as well if that shit would have happened to you. Sure he kills people for shit and giggles but but.....the man is sexy-ugly Let me be.

Number 2:

Luke Brandon from the Shopaholic Series

First of all, the Luke Brandon of my imagination does not look like Hugh Dancy. Though Dancy is sure easy on the eyes but the Luke in my head is much manlier....with broader shoulders. Same colouring and intensity but definitely hotter. That scene in the end of book 1 where he told Becky that he was both the bidder at the auction and the one on the phone burned into my memory and my subconscious....forever and ever. Fucking romantic.

Also the Luke, in the book is such a great guy. He’s clever and capable, but he is always perplexed when it comes to Becky and her zaniness, but he continues to love her despite it all. He completely embraced the saying “Women are to be loved, not to be understood” and I love that about him.

And yes, I know he doesn’t exist. And even if he does, he’s with Becky and I bow out gracefully from that.

Number 1:

Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Still hot!! I don’t care that Buffy ended almost a decade ago. Spike is one sexy mofo and he will continue to be a sexy mofo for all eternity. Spike was the sexiest vampire ever. He kills for fun and pleasure and makes no apology about it....that was until he fell in love with Buffy and then he was all pussified. Which sucked, but at least there was more screen time for Spike.

Also Spike, other than Xander, has the best lines in the whole show. The fucker was just funny. Funny, and sexy, and dangerous and he wore leather pants. Uuumm...leather pants. Oh be still, my throbbing loins. Plus did I ever tell you guys that I met James Masters, the dude who played Spike and he kinda.....well...something kinda happened? Nope? Okay next blog post then. Mwahahaha!

Till then bitches.

And oh I’m not sure who still reads my blog but if you are reading this and you would like to do this tag and hence waste precious moments of your youth....then go ahead my friend. Go ahead.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Un-friending Facebook

I’ve quit Facebook.

No seriously. For the time being. I do not know how long. I will be back though; I have exactly 1,451 pictures as well as 35 albums on the site. Have to transfer all that before I could completely quit it.

The decision to do was at first out of necessity- ie: shitload of assignments, getting to distracted with cyber stalking people etc. It was supposed to be a temporary thing. But now that I haven’t logged in for approximately for 12 days, and suffering no drawbacks, asphyxiation or hives from lack of wasting time on said social network....I am actually feeling really good about it.

I’m tired of the fuckery that goes on it.

I’m tired of people from my past that I never liked and never wanted to have a thing to do with sending me friend requests out of nowhere. I mean, honestly asswipe, I didn’t like you then, what makes you think that I would now? I’m tired of people sending me friend requests without even a cursory “hey” on my wall. Thanks so much for making me part of your loser-rific never-ending quest of looking super awesome online by having lots of “friends”. When I see people with 90 friends or something, I immediately think “at least dude is keeping it real” but when I seem someone with 500+ something friends and I’m like “Wow. Douchebag.” I’m tired of random guys from Romania trying to add me just cause I look “hot” on my profile photo (which I no longer have the option to hide from people who are not my “friends”. Thanks for that Zuckerberg).

I’m tired of people blowing up their own ass.

“Oh wow, the job interview went so awesome and obviously I’m the best candidate cause it’s me!”

“Should I buy the Mercedes or the Lambo? With my new pay, I could certainly afford both. Lol.”

“Me and the hubby are now in Cannes! It’s so glamorous. Next week Milan!”

Fucking blow me assholes.

I’m tired of overzealous religious people on FB.

“Allah is always in my mind, my heart, my soul. Alhamdullilah.”

“Jesus is the way.”

Now this would have been okay if I did not just saw you wearing a low cut top that drop down to your navel last week with boobs all-galore. Was Allah in your mind, your heart and your soul as you sat on the bar, boobs all hanging out while making out with some random guy? And oh, did Jesus showed you the way last night when you were fucking wasted out of your mind and still wanted to drive home on your own? Did Jesus said it was okay to drive that car after you knocked back 7 shots of whisky? Did he?

Pretentious fuckwits.

I’m tired of people from my past going “Wow, you look so good now...considering how you used to look like in highschool.” I mean, whoa dude, kudos for the backhanded compliment. That takes some skills. And yes I realize high school for me was 5 years worth of bad haircut. I still cringe looking at the photos. What in the fucking blue hell was I thinking? But wow, asshole. Thanks but no thanks.

I’m just tired of it all. Maybe this is me being old. Me being in my quarter life crisis. Or maybe this is just me just sick being reminded of my fleeting youth whenever I log onto that site. I am at that age where my goddamn school friends are getting married, left right front and centre. Goddamn wedding invitations every other week. The girls I went to school are not discussing the price of wedding planners on their walls. A part of me is slightly jealous that I have no one, but a bigger part of me is repulsed that they dare to get married Before establishing careers they could be proud of. But then feminism is about choice. And if they choose to settle down now who am I to say anything? And then I become completely ashamed for feeling that motherhood isn’t a good enough life choice, after all, my mom chose to be a homemaker and raised me. And then I feel guilty about it....and its all very conflicted.

And the fuck up part of it is that it’s all in my head. When I said quarter life crisis, I kid you not, bitches.

Also I met a guy the other day. We talked. It was nice. Then when it was coming to an end he asked me “Can I add you on Facebook?” Gone are the days of “Can I have your number?” Or maybe that’s just me. When I told him that I’ve deactivated mine, he stared at me like I’m insane. This is how it is. You need to be FB friends to “get to know” the person before actually “knowing” the person the traditional way. FB creepin is the way into the future folks.

I guess it’s good that I no longer have one. Make me slightly unique in this digital driven world. Or just a loser.

A loser in the midst of her quarter life crisis.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Not an actual post

Hey guys!

This is not an actual post. I just wanna ask if you guys know any awesome blogs to read out there? I have some really good ones on my Reader but really, I just need some new fix.

So if you guys are reading any good shit out there, would you please leave the link in the comment? Malay and English acceptable, cause those are the only two languages I can understand yo.

Just leave a link, with reasons why you like it or thinks why I would like it. I'm getting bored here.

Alright, thanks!

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

(Almost) Death in the cinema

I went to watch Predators on my own a couple of weeks back. Now, I am no sci-fi chick but for some reason or another I just wanted to watch it you know. This was of course a couple weeks back, before Inception even hits the cinemas cause you know, if you’re sitting there reading this and going “The fuck does she went to watch Predators when Inception was so much more Ossssummm!!” in whatever timezone you are in, well then let me clarify okay? This blog no longer runs on real time. Everything I tell you now is backdated cause I ain’t got time to blog in real time anymore boo. Mainly cause I’m lazy and have lost the blogging buzz…. but mostly lazy.

Fuck y’all.

Okay, that was uncalled for. I’m sorry.

Wait, where was I? Right I was walking by the cinema when I saw the Predators poster and I was like “Yeah, sure why not? I can do grocery shopping some other day. My entertainment fix is more important then say….stocking up the pantry so that I won’t die out of starvation.” Also, Predators was the member’s movie of the week which mean if you’re a member of the cinema you get a discount on certain movies every week. Usually it’ll be the last week the movie is playing in the cinema and because I’m a cheap bastard, I always wait till member’s week before watching any movie.

What? To borrow a quote from my dear friend but now-sadly-not-so-close-anymore Sharin; “I don’t shit diamonds okay.”

So I got the ticket, got the popcorn and went straight into the cinema….and it was empty but I didn’t really care cause I was there early. Even the screen was blank. So I just sat down in the middle, completely chillin and thinking other people would show up in a while. It is the last week for the movie anyways and it’s like one of the smaller cinemas. The lights darken and the trailers flashed onto the giant screen. So I sat there, shaking my leg, munching my popcorn thinking “Oh, 'The Other Guys' look good, I should check that out. Skank whore number 3 from 'The Day the War Begins' is irritating me and oh look! 'Salt'! I’m gonna die if I don’t watch it.” Just you know completely chillin…when it occurred to me that movie’s gonna start soon and no one is coming in.

The movie did start and no one fucking came in.


Now think about this for a while: Big empty cinema. Dark, big, empty, cinema. Dark, big, empty, cinema with lots and lots of empty seats and places for lets say, SCARY FUCKING DEMONS TO HIDE IN BEFORE THEY JUMPED OUT AND DEVOUR YOUR SOUL!!!!

Or you your popcorn...

I was sitting there thinking “This is some bulllshit” but I really didn’t want to leave cause I already paid for it and please do remember that I am cheap bastard despite the fact that I could feel my figurative….imaginary balls shrink from the possible being-attack-by-scary-demons-from-a-hell-dimension…..but, but…dude, I paid for it. So I ran up and sat all the way back so that I can see the entire cinema. So if there is any bullshit brewing I can see it bitch and I can run the fuck out of there. And besides, there’s a wall behind me. So that’s good. Cause you know….things can’t walk out of walls right? Wait…..ghosts can right? And demons? And OHMYGAWD! Pontianaks!!!!! Oh wait, wait……there’s no Pontianaks in Australia. I’m good, I’m good….unless there are Pontianaks in Aussie and they live exclusively in cinemas.


You know, its one thing if I were to watch a chick flick or something. It wouldn’t have been that scary sitting alone there, but I had to fucking watch Predators. Inherently, it wasn’t that scary watching a bunch of humans getting hunted by an alien warrior race and then assraped repeatedly before getting decapitated….. but coupled with the fact that I was sitting all alone in a big, empty, darken cinema with a possibility of being ambushed by demons, pontianaks and possibly evil ninjas, made the experience and the movie consequently, so FUCKING SCARY! And then of course, it completely escaped me that the Predators can become invisible.

So in case you have never watch a Predator movie your entire life, Predators are this big scary warrior alien that looks like this:

And they have like advanced technology where they can make themselves invisible when they are hunting humans for shit and giggles. See, I knew this little titbit of sci-fi trivia but it completely escaped me until of course the invisibility-scene came on in the movie. And I was sitting there alone thinking “Motherfuck, maybe there is an invisible Predator in the cinema with me.”


Dude….all I could think of at that moment was that….I won’t even know what to tell God if I were to die being killed by an invisible alien predator in an empty cinema. No seriously, what would I say to God? I’ll be like “God…I didn’t even know what happened. I was just sitting there alone in the cinema and the next thing I know this predator dude just materialized in front of me. I look at him, he look at me and that was it God. I don’t even know what happened.” Now, ain’t that a sonofabitch? But hey I preserved and the moment the movie ended, even before the credits rolled, I fucking grabbed my bag and got out of there. Seriously, I have never been more relief to see the crappy lighting of the cinema before this. And then suddenly, because I have survived possible demons/Pontianaks/evil ninjas/Predators attack, I was feeling all badass. So I snuck into another theatre.

Cause I’m badass yo.

The trailers were still playing in this one and I was like “Woooo hooo! Two movies for the price of one!” I was feeling all smug with myself. Now, you guys know how I feel about tattoos right? But at that moment, I even contemplated of getting one to demonstrate my sheer badassdery. Perhaps one behind my neck that says:

Bad Azz 4 Lyfe

So badass, I have to spell life with a “y” instead. No seriously. So I sat in this new theatre, as excited as a motherfucker wondering what free movie I’m gonna get to watch….when the trailers ended and my question was answered.

It was Eclipse.

I got up and left.

Fuck that.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Baby's first media conference

So I covered my first ever official media conference yesterday. Before this, I entered in the capacity of “Journo student”, but last night I got an actual media pass so I entered as a professional not a student. It was soooo exciting, and even more intimidating then anything I have been through in my entire life.

I went there early; by early I mean about 40 mins earlier. I know that’s overkill but come on, it’s my first media conference. I wanna take my time reading the media kit, get a good spot that is front and centre enough but not exactly right smack up front. Have to be conspicuous but not too much. Does that make sense? Whatever, it makes sense to me. When I got there, the room wasn’t that pack but there were the cameramen setting up the equipments, other journos looking through the media pack, mingling, talking, ambushing the bar and I noticed a trend.

Everyone was wearing black. And I was wearing a deep blue dress. The fuck? I did not get the memo that said that when dressing for a media conference you’re supposed to channel your grandma’s funeral. Great, my first media conference as a “professional” and I stuck out like sore thumb. At least deep blue is still a corporate colour, right? Rigggght? Fuck.

So I sat there alone, legs crossed, reading the media kit and trying to look ever-so-professional while simultaneously scanning the room. It’s true what they say; the newsroom is still pretty much a boy’s club. The ratio was like 7 men to 1 woman when I noticed a guy looking at me. It was one of the cameramen. He smiled, I nodded. I figured he took that as his cue to come over and the first thing that came to my mind when he was making his way over was “Okay CD, network. Industry contact. Industry contact!...But you know be cool too.”

He sat down next to me and I was all like “Hey, I’m CD” pointed at the tag I’m wearing and then “I’m with *insert newspaper name*”. Then he said “I’m David, and I’m with you if you want me to” and then he looked at me up and down. You know the look men give you and you feel like you have been stripped naked even though you took 2 days to figure out what to wear and another 2 hours just to get ready. Yeah, that one. Because that came so unexpectedly I just stared at him with what I assumed a shocked expression on my face. I expect shit like this when I go to the clubs, not when I’m all professional at my first media conference. The fuck. We're professionals dammit! Then he just left with this huge grin on his face like his sole mission in life is to be a fuckwit douchebag have now been fulfilled.

So there you go, my first media conference and my first industry sexual harassment all rolled into one. Like a burrito.

The conference itself was amazing. You know all those time you watch movies where someone big and important hold a conference and the light bulbs are going off, someone typing furiously into something handheld and a shitload of journos scribbling relentlessly into their teeny tiny notepads and then when the Big Shot finished speaking, everyone kinda jumped out of their seats, waving their hands in the air, shouting their questions? You know? I was there! It was sooo exciting. Of course years down the road when I’m like 40 and jaded but still look 20 cause of all of the botox, all these will no doubt unfazed me. But I’m still in my 20s, and holy shit it was exciting! I got caught up in the moment and when everyone had their hands up, I wanted to do that too! I raised my hand despite not actually having anything to ask. I mean, what are the chances of me getting picked when there are so many hands up? And then I looked around and two things struck me:

1) I’m the only one wearing blue in a sea of black.
2) Everyone else was white. Except for me. You know in the movies, they have like the token black/Asian/Hispanic guy? I’m like the token Asian chick for the media conference.

Put two and two together, it’s safe to say that I stood out. I quickly put my hand down. Fuck that. If they did pick me, I probably be too nervous to actually pull anything out of my ass.

The media conference ended and there were still time left. I mean now is the time to mingle and network, right? So I wanted to do just that when I noticed two middle aged men looking at me. They might be journos, but I don’t know. I just don’t like the way they were looking at me. I mean, its not that I’m hot. I am never hot, just well presented. It’s just that I’m fresh meat. I’m young, I’m Asian (ooouu exotic) and I still have perky tits (bonus!). That’s all. I figure I keep the networking for another day and bailed out of there. I got my story and I’ve already reached my sexual harassment quota for the next millennium.

Enough excitement for the night.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Can't be undone

I supposed after making a big hoohah about it, I should follow through.

Right. This is difficult to write. So here goes.

My so-called parents went for their little delightful spot of European sun on May 29th, I got the text message the day after. The date is important to the flow of what happened. So it took me bout 5 days to come to terms with it and be all sad. The thing is, ever since I came to Australia I have not cried at all for homesickness or loneliness. I know some people who went into some sort of funk while they are here and have super emo FB status updates about “Boo hoo I wanna be back home in Malaysia”. I never had any of those. The first time that I ever cried in Australia was 5 days after I realized what my parents did to me. I’m not a big crier, I detest it. I think girls who cry are weak pansies and should be smack silly. That being said, my parents have rendered me to that weakling pansy that should have been smack silly. Multiple times at that.

The thing is my parents and I, we speak on Skype, before this anyways, about like 4 or 5 times a week. Sometimes hour long conversations, sometimes a 2 minute thing that goes like “Mom I can’t talk to you now cause Glee is on”. That kinda thing. Right after the text message from my dad, they didn’t even text or call me from their little lovely European getaway. First you lie to me, then you didn’t even acknowledge my existence? Thumbs up on parenting there. It was like they know they fucked up and they were running away from it.

Then on the 11th to the 21st of June my cousin came over for a visit. I mean that’s a long holiday and I was basically very busy and tired taking her around Brisbane and the Gold Coast. At this point, there were still not a beep from my parents as they frolic around in the European sun. I was feeling better by this time cause I was having so much fun with my cousin here. We’re very close, me and her. She’s one year older and we practically grew up together so it was really, really fun. That was until I mentioned what my parents did and she went all wide-eyed and went;

“Holy shit. You didn’t know that they were going for holiday in Germany with your sister? Really? My family and I know since March dude.”

The. Fuck.

And then just to fucking rub it in, I went on Facebook and the first thing I saw on my homepage was my sister’s status update. “Oh just got back home to Finland! So much fun with mom and dad in Germany” or some bullshit along that line. See, initially I wasn’t even upset with my sister. Parents have a tendency to fuck things over between their own kids but ohmyfuckinggawd, that shit hurts. And it pissed me off….and then it hurts some more. Again, it’s not the Europe thing. It’s the deceitful sneaking about. Put yourself in my place. Living abroad alone, parents fucking withheld information from you and apparently the whole fucking world knows about it BUT you, the fucking family member itself. Put yourself in my place and see if your heart doesn’t feel like its being stabbed again and again with a jagged dagger forged of ice.

So I reacted. Not very gracefully. I blocked my sister from my Facebook. Then I went onto Skype and blocked both her and my mom, as well as on YM. I figure they been at it since May 29th and its like fucking June something and neither of them have made any contact with me. So fuck it.

My cousin left Australia on the 21st and so did my parents, from Finland. And then suddenly, when they no longer frolicking around in the European sun, memory came back-a-knockin and they were like “Omigawd, don’t we have another kid in Australia?” Suddenly my dad is sending me text messages of feigned concern:

“Oh you mother said to make sure wear thick clothes so that you won’t get sick cause its winter there now right?”

“Have you eaten yet Sweetie?”

“Your mom and I were wondering if you be on Skype today?”

“Where are you? Are you okay? Why haven’t you been answering?”

“CD, are you okay? Where are you?”

By this time there were 5 times text messages a day and twice the number of calls. You see, at this point I was plain ignoring their message and I auto reject any international call made to my phone. To quote Sonia; “Wow, hardcore”. My parents thought they know me so well that they assumed they have to lie to me or else I throw a bitch fit. Well then, if they know me so well that they should have know that I have always been a vindictive bitch. They withheld information. I withheld information. Perhaps it’s genetic. We should look into making it a family business venture.

At this point I was ignoring them for about 10 days until my dad sent me a text message that was scary as hell:

“Are you okay? I am getting a plane ticket and sending your mother there.”


Fucking hell that was scary okay. I felt like I could have died on the spot. I went into full panic mode. I mean the fuck, I don’t want to wake up and my mom is there standing at my fucking doorstep. Are you fucking insane? I went into full panic mode. First shit I did was hid my bunny in a safe place. And then I fucking told my housemate to move the house’s minibar into his room. People would get their asses kick if my mom would even know the existence of a fucking minibar in the house okay. And then don’t get me started on all the other shit that I have and will not discuss on this blog. Fuck!

But still, I had to play cool. Waited for like a couple of hours. And then I sent this message:

“I’m fine. No need to care. Been busy. I’m going to sleep.”

Very curt. My dad called, auto reject. I didn’t call back.

But that wasn’t enough, I’m still angry. You see when I come here my dad gave me a credit card, to be used only in emergency. The first thing I wanted to do was to go shopping and max out the card but I figure that would not serve my purpose. That would just highlight how fucking immature I am. But I’m pissed. I need to hurt them. So I figured out what could hurt them financially, but won’t let me come across as immature. It somehow had to be a “mature” form of spending. Going to Harbour Town and cleaning out Nine West is not a form of “mature” spending. What could be it then? And then I got it. Since last year I have been taking 3 sets of boxing class. I’m already at the third level. I enjoy the classes, but I always wanted private, one-on-one lessons. However those are too expensive and I always figure to myself “I’m sure the classes are just as good as the private ones. And it’s expensive.” But since they pissed me off……….I went and enrolled myself for an 8 pack of private boxing classes that happened to be…….expensive. It’s spending, but its “mature” spending.

Do I need it? No.
Is it expensive? Hell yeah.
Does it make me come across as immature? No. Cause its self-defence and exercise, and that ladies and gentlemen is always a good combo and a completely “mature” form of spending.

WIN for me.

And then about like, 9 days ago my brother text me and told me that he’s gonna call and answer the phone already. At this point, he is the only one left that I am not pissed off so I answered his call. It was like an hour long call where he was like “I totally told them to tell you but they wouldn’t listen to me.” “You know how they are.” “I know this shit would hit the fan, bigtime.” “Talk to them, what they did was wrong but they’re still your parents.” Bla bla bla. Reverse psychology galore. I figure they, they being the deceitful and treacherous ones, must have been pretty desperate as to get my bro to call and reverse psychology me.

They sent a middle man.

So to be completely anti-climatic, I called my parents about 3 days later and we talked. Germany was not mentioned. It never happened. In fact, the country of Germany doesn’t even exist. They didn’t apologize. I didn’t mention it on the phone. The last thing I wanted to do was to pull out the hurt and break down over the phone. So we spoke. It was tense and forced and all that good feelings of talking to your far-away parents were missing. Since then I had another 10 minutes phone convo with them, and another maybe… 10mins mins Skype conversation with them. When my dad called to speak, I told him I can’t cause I’m running for the bus when I am in fact at home watching Hung.

I don’t get on Skype anymore. My Skype account is all but dead. I reply their messages in short sentences. I’m always “tired” when we talk on the phone. Or running for the bus. Or cooking. Or anything else that involve me not-talking-on-the-phone. Call me a Drama Queen, cause I am but I no longer want to share my life with them. I did and I wanted to two months ago but I no longer do anymore. Things will never be the same again between us. I know this. They know this.

And it doesn’t change a damn thing.