Home Sweet House


This house belongs to Seekarlui and me. It’s under construction, and will be ready by end November 2006.

Can’t wait to furnish the house – plasma tv, nice comfy couch, pool table.

Can’t wait to do the renovation – plaster ceilings, eco tiles, cabinets, bath tub.

Can’t wait to get a golden retriever puppy.

Sigh… I am getting really impatient.


Tottie’s Knackered


Tottie loves the weekend. Obviously, he would love to go to the beach, but the fact that we are stuck in Coolaloompurr makes this proposition slightly more challenging that going to the moon.

Tottie is really knackered today. He partied with Seekarlui, Des, Siao Yue and Jacko till late last night. Apparently, some fella who looks a lot like Bert from Sesame Street was having his 23rd birthday celebration at Havanita Cigar Lounge.

Seekarlui seemed to really enjoy Coke + Chivas. Tottie prefers his drink neat and unsullied by carbonated soft drinks.

Tottie woke up at 1.oo pm this afternoon. Tired.

Tonight, Tottie is going to Klang for Bak Kut Teh. Tottie is a happy turtle.



UPDATE: Later at night


Huh? What is this?


This is most definitely NOT Bak Kut Teh. This is Siew Lung Pau. Hrmph! Where’s my nice, nice porky? Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeerrreee!!!!!!!!!!!!


Tottie is not happy. In fact he is on the verge of killing someone pissed. Never, ever mess with a pissed turtle.

Thursday Afternoon

Sigh… It’s a Thursday afternoon. The sky outside is wet and grey, frail and sickly. The sombre atmosphere is not helping with my current disposition and mental state. I gaze mournfully at the pile of reports and paperwork stacked up on my desk like an impregnable tower of the deepest, darkest misery known to man.

My tea is cold, too sweet. The topmost layer of the liquid is starting to harden, forming a wrinkly skin of dirty brown. I poke at it with my finger absently. It appears to have the consistency of human skin, which is weird but fascinates me. The intensity of my physical intrusion cause ripples to form in the middle of the cup, spreading to the rims.

Damn. The tea spills over the cup and splashes onto the desk. This is depressing. My attention shifts to the incessant clicking of the keyboards. The monotony of the rhythm lulls me, taunts me with its temerity, reminding me that I am chained to my desk with nowhere to go on this wet and gloomy afternoon.

My eyes close. My mind starts to drift. The veils of darkness are drawn back, revealing a mesmerising and breathtaking vision. A beautiful green island stands in the middle of a clear sapphire ocean. Crescents of pure white beaches, tall palm trees swaying seductively in the light breeze.

The hammock I recline on rocks gently to the rhythm of the island’s heart. The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemmingway slides down my chest as I contemplate on the simple joys of escapism. A life that is free from worry and the complexities of living in this world today.

The sun is setting, turning the sky into a myriad of colours, crimson, yellow and purple. I watch the seagulls swoop and circle the sky, their mews echoing off the cliffs. I shift my gaze to the white morning glory creepers encroaching on the sparkling sand, shimmering with a soft, magical glow.

This is the embodiment of bliss.

Suddenly, my senses are assaulted by a series of ear deafening grunts and groans. My curiosity piqued, I peer over my cubicle wall and beheld my colleague, Pipi, snoring away, oblivious to the world, living happily in dreamland.

Oi! Sleep quietly can or not?


Top 10 Reasons Why I Hate McDonald’s

10. The beef is actually roadkill found outside the restaurant.

9. I was buggered by the clown and he scares me.

8. My McShit with Lies order has been rejected.

7. They don’t offer buffets or any all-you-can-eat deals.

6. I can’t really get squeeze through the tiny doors. Slight tummy issue.

5. Things will get hairy with the crowd there when they don’t get their caffeine and cholesterol fixes on time.

4. McDonald’s does not serve bananas. Like the one pictured below.

3. It’s extremely hard to differentiate McFingers and McNuggets.

2. The fries are fried in thick acne puss and facial oil from their teenage employees.

1. I found red pubic hairs in my Whopper… Opps, sorry I mean… Big Mac.


The picture of this banana serves absolutely no purpose at all. It’s totally meaningless. This banana belonged to Siao Yue. It’s broken and bent.

Some people like broken bananas, some don’t.

I seriously need help.

Mmmm. Nice.


Green tea. Coconut. Baskin Robbins.


RM12.29 for this. What??!??

Damn fucking expensive la wei. Discount a bit, can ah?

Man Boobies

Fuckstress (I love that name) recently put up a brilliant post on scary boobies popping up in her gym locker.

I remember thinking to myself – Wow, bras are really something else. You can make big boobies smaller, give small flat ones some volume and point them in whatever direction that takes your fancy.

Well, at least girls have solutions to their dillemas.

Des and Datuk, my colleagues with dubious sexual orientations, definitely have boobie issues. Men with breasts big enough to start sagging is just wrong. Plain wrong.

These two buggers waddle around office nonchalantly completely oblivious to the fact that their huge perky nipples are straining hard against their shirts, about to burst out. You can almost hear the shirt fabric creaking and protesting to the strain those nipples are subjecting them to. Any normal conversation with these two fellas is a severe test of my concentration skills.

Please put on singlets. Please. Calvin Klein sells them for a reason. You can’t do anything about the bulge, but at least it hides those big hairy scary nipples. Or try those Nipless things. Or breast reduction surgery. Please.

Eh Lee said my shirt is damn gay today.


What do you think?

I bought this from French Connection in London, okay? It’s like the fashion capital of the world, hahaha.

Yeah yeah, I noticed the tummy too. Damn.

Gotta exercise more – horizontal style. 😉

I Need To Move Desperately

I am a hardworking and dedicated poor, underpaid office grunt.

My boss lives near me. AND he knows which house.

Obviously, as the boss, he leaves his house later in the morning than us, his poor starving minions.

He knows if I am late for work.

Die lah

I can’t wait for my new house at Setia Alam to be ready. But then again, I remember the fiasco when the flyover collapsed one year ago. Don’t feel very confident.

Sigh. Damn drama today.