Bloodless Buttocks on a Road to Nowhere

There's really no other way to get more intimate with a car than resting your rear on it's seat for a whole day. And that's exactly what I did on the 14th of February. That's right - on the first day of the Chinese New Year, and Valentine's day besides, my butt was smooching with a car seat.

With the luggage packed and everybody awake, my family left for Port Dickson. I had a PS2 on my lap, to entertain myself in PD. The sun was up when we left that fateful day. It set a cheerful mood for the trip, although cheerfulness was the last thing on my mind, having enjoyed only four hours of sleep the night before (6 to 10 a.m., to be exact). Oh well, just a tiny obstacle to a great holiday...

At least breakfast cheered me up. Nothing like a warm belly full of roti telur to lift your mood. After that, we left for the (assumed) short trip to Port Dickson, and I attempted to take a short nap.

Unfortunately, those attempts were useless. While Sis slept as if her life depended on it (maybe she was dreaming about some hot Korean guy), I couldn't get any shut-eye at all! Staring at the passing scenery didn't help. Closing my eyes just meant I was staring at the scenery through the inside of my eyelids instead. All the while, I felt the blood slowly drain out of my butt...oh well, just a tiny obstacle to a great holiday...

The ride to PD should have taken not more than 2 hours, but we took a detour through Malacca instead...and if you have the remotest idea of the Malaysian map, you will realize that it just makes the trip longer - by 3 hours. At this point, my butt was screaming in agony. I tried to balance out the lack of blood in both butt cheeks by shifting my weight from side to side constantly, but that just widened the scope of the torture. Just a tiny obstacle to a great holiday...

So we arrived in Malacca, where my family owned an orchard. Hmmm..maybe the word "orchard" is pretty deceiving, since that word implies a lush plot of land where you can pick fruits and enjoy them under the shade of a tree. The "orchard" in Malacca is more like a set for a Resident Evil movie. Hardly worth a 3 hour detour, but oh well...just a tiny obstacle to a great holiday...

At least the stop in Malacca allowed me to stretch my legs and give some well-deserved respite for my bloodless buttocks. But something was worrying me. The rear left wheel of the car (the wheel closest to me, by the way) had been making strange noises the whole time, and the sound seems to have grown over time. Everybody seemed oblivious to it, but personally, the thought of getting killed by a creaking car axle did not appeal to me, and I was relieved when we stopped for some lunch.

We weren't hungry, and ate little, but the bill came out at 35 ringgit. 35 ringgit! When a similar meal in Puchong would have cost half of that! A rip off, pure and simple. Ah, but its just a tiny obstacle to a great holiday... or so I thought as my butt was reunited with the steamy embrace of the car seat.

Finally! We were in PD! I could almost hear the chorus of singing angels as the cooling blood flow returned to my butt cheeks. We carried all our luggage down (PS2 included) and trudged towards our apartment. It was locked...not so tiny obstacle to a great holiday.

Apparently, the previous tenant of the apartment locked the grill of the apartment, when there wasn't any key for it. Funny how a locked door can mess up an entire day for 8 people. But as frustrating as it was, Sis and I couldn't help to laugh at the whole absurdity of the situation. We proceeded to concluding the irony of the day's events:
1. Being optimistic, we can look at the entire trip as a visit to Malacca, but:
2. We brought along enough luggage for a two-day stay
3. We brought a PS2 along (on my lap)
4. We got ripped off at lunch
5. The car is disintegrating under us
6. I may have permanently damaged the nerve endings in my butt

Mum, on the other hand, didn't exactly see the funny side and seemed ready to beat up the wise guy who said: "When a door closes, a window always opens" (We didn't try to break in through a window, by the way)

And so, my butt and the car seat lived in holy matrimony for another few hours as we took the surprisingly short drive back home. Sis and I passed the time by translating English songs to Bahasa Malaysia, and vice versa (and thus discovering that Maroon 5 would have done well if they had explored the Malay music industry). It did become quite nervy since the troublesome wheel was now screeching like a demon being exorcised and I was silently praying that the day would not end with me being horribly impaled on a car axle.

But all in all, the trip did, in a strange way, bring us closer together. We even had time to hook the PS2 up for a few games before going out for a family dinner that night (in another car). And I have the car seat and my butt to thank for teaching me that "two is better than one"

Rooting for the Blue Aliens

The human stared in disbelief at the arrow that had just pierced his torso. But his gaze wavers just a bit, enough for him to see the tall cat-like alien shoot another arrow into his chest. The human keeps standing defiantly for a few tense moments...face still set in a mask of disbelief. Then he finally falls to the ground. And I started cheering.

Strangely, I didn't feel guilty at all for rooting for the alien fighting against a fellow human. After all, the rest of the crowd in the cinema was cheering too. At the end of the movie, the humans were walloped and sent packing back to stinky old Earth (sucks for them) while the main character (a human) changes into a blue alien through a strange spiritual ritual thingy-ma-jig involving a deity called Eywa. But I don't want to mention too much about the plot of Avatar. I want you to watch it yourself...cause its so freaking awesome!

There's just something about Avatar, but I can't seem to put my finger on it. Is it the breath-taking graphics? Or the great plot? Or even the topless aliens? Perhaps it is a combination of all of those reasons, or maybe none of them at all. Whatever the case, there's just something about Avatar...

Not too long ago, my sis had a thing for Titanic, the 3 and a half hour movie with the winding plot and the love triangles and the hero suffering...is it any wonder that sis fell for Korean dramas later? I tolerated her constant hogging of the TV and wished Jack would die more quickly as he once again says to Rose in a shivery voice: "Rose, I want you to grow old, and have lotsa children..." or something along those lines. My memory's a bit fuzzy on that, since my brain tends to forget incidents of utter boredom in order to focus on more important aspects of life. Like breathing. Meanwhile, my sis cries along with Rose, contributing to the booming business that is the tissue paper manufacturing industry.

Its a wonder that the director of Titanic was also the one to direct Avatar. The movies are just so different. They don't even seem to target the same audience. Titanic is, admittedly, a nice movie, and Titanic fans are an intimidating lot (have you seen my sis angry?). But I have to stand up for my favorite movie of all time. Because even though Avatar may not be as romantic or as tear-jerking as Titanic; and Avatar may not even be a true story, there's just something about Avatar...

The movie makes you see the flaws of us humans. It exposes our greed, our destructive love for wealth. It provides a glimpse into our future, where our world is dying and we have to go to a brand new planet just so we can repeat the destruction all over again. And the movie does all this in epic fashion. So yeah, I'm not ashamed because I root for the blue aliens.

Ah, but what do I do now, after watching such a great movie? Maybe I should watch another movie. I wonder where that Titanic CD is...

Football 101: The Basics

Ah, I notice that my (only) two followers are girls...well, being the considerate, thoughtful, and oh so charming person that I am, I will explain the one thing that will forever confuse the minds of the fairer half of the human race.



The Ball


Humans have invented many wonders in his short history on Earth. We discovered fire, which earned us the respect of wild animals. We invented the wheel, which allowed us to travel faster, further, and for nuch longer. We invented guns, which made killing each other as simple as squeezing a trigger. We discovered fuel of all kinds, eventually providing sufficient power for our rockets to break free of Earth's gravity and land us on the Moon. But the greatest invention ever, without a sliver of doubt, is:






THE Football.



The first footballs consist of nothing more than an inflated pig bladder (seriously) but the modern ones usually are made of 32 panels of waterproofed leather or plastic, since Christiano Ronaldo and David Beckham resent having smears of pig urine on their boots, being the spoilt millionaire brats that they are...

Game Concept

The lives of football players revolve around the single objective of kicking a pig bladder-like ball into a queer cuboid-like shaped net which serves as something called the "goal". When a player manages to do this, everybody who has turned up will immediatly raise their hands in an almost instinctive move and shout GOAL!!!!!!!!! in the shrill voice football fans are famous for.

Of course, there are rules to the game, without which, the players would fall into disarray and kick balls other than the foot ball (feel my pain, brother?). As such, a certain official is given almost dictatorial control over everybody else on the field: The Referee.

The Referee

The referee is definitely the most important person on the field. Without him, the game would descend into mayhem, like a scene from parliament, minus the flying chairs. Yet, the ref is often the most hated person on the field. Every decision he makes is met with objection, derision, confusion, and confrontation mixed in with a generous dose of profanity. If guns were permitted into stadiums, refs would surely be the first to bite the dust, or in this case grass.

But the ref does have his powers. For example, a misbehaving player who, for instance, takes to breaking other players' legs are given the dreaded RED CARD by the ref. If you are unfamiliar with the concept, a red card is the most horrifying thing to show to a player on the field, more so than a middle finger, or worse, a picture of Madonna naked. A player shown the red card is in much pain...although the player of the broken legs will probably beg to differ...

Stadiums

When broken down, the various aspects of football may seem weird, downright crazy, even. But I still stand by my earlier statement that The Football is the greatest human invention ever, for the fact that such a simple object (the first being a pig bladder, remember) can inspire such passion in tumbling toddlers (a.k.a. my bro), pimply teenagers (a.k.a. me) and beer-bellied middle-aged men (not my father) alike.

This passion is most evident by the construction of stadiums worldwide for the purpose of allowing tens of thousands of people to watch 22 men kick a ball around a rectangular field so that they can shout GOAL!!!!!!!! when the ball ends up in one of the two cuboid-shaped nets at either end of the field, while the managers of both teams prowl the edge of the field, gesticulating wildly with the enthusiasm of a newly escaped mental patient while shouting themselves to the point of heart attack (seriously). If you happen to be viewing a stadium from above, you will notice that they are nothing but temples built in honour of the Gods, i mean players, of football.

Unfortunately, there is too much about football to fit into one blog entry. So before I destroy your eyesight any further, just one simple message to my readers: if you are a lady, take it easy on your football-loving brothers, boyfriend or husband; if you are a fellow football-loving gentlemen: ROCK ON!!!!!

P.S.: The sport referred to above is the soccer variation of football. There are other versions, including American football (a.k.a. rugby), which is another totally different type of s***

Grudgingly Proud

A wise man (a.k.a. me) once said: "It is strange that people are afraid of exams; they should actually be afraid of the results". An irrelevant phrase? Not really.

Because today my sister accepted her PMR results, and lo and behold (to quote Enid Blyton), she got straight A's. That's right! My sister, the supposedly "average" student, has proved her critics (myself included) wrong in emphatic style with EIGHT big, fat A's.

To this, I do not really know how to react. Don't get me wrong: a part of me wants to jump up and down with her while shrieking in a girly soprano voice (a sound which normally arises from my voicebox during roller coaster rides). Yet, another part of me (my ego, perhaps?) feels strangely hurt. After careful analysis, I have put this mixed feeling down as either a side effect of sibling rivalry or a clear indication that I'm a lousy brother.

Being the eldest child in my family does have its perks. Case in point: I have the inherent right to boss my other 3 sibling around - a right I happily exercise every other day. But there are disadvantages, of course. Sometimes I get the feeling that in this minefield that is life, I as the eldest sibling have to bear the brunt of all those mines so that I can leave a clear path in the field for my siblings' journey in life. Above all, the biggest downside of this eldest child business is the constant pressure exerted on my shoulders by the fact that I am THE role model for them. I can almost see my young brother saying: "so that is how you avoid a mine...thanks brother!". Meanwhile, my face looks like this:



Hmm..perhaps I'm being a bit dramatic and emo-fied...but the fact does not change that I am a teeny-weeny bit jealous of my sis. The certificate hanging beside my study table which shows my PMR results (which by the way was 7A 1B) now taunts me everytime I pass it:

I mean, look at that thing! Its pure EVIL, man!!! I guess there are only two things in the universe that can make you either feel like you're on top of the world or at the bottom of the barrel: football and exams

I guess at the end of the day, when it's time to look back, I have to say that I am proud of myself and my achievements so far, and as much as I hate to admit it, I really am proud of my sister. Sigh. I guess its time to practice my girly scream...

The immediate effect of my girly scream

what the horror?!

I'll admit this much: I hate horror movies. I despise them. I wish nobody have come up with them. But who am I to say anything about it...after all, I'm the only member of the family who cowers behind a cushion or silently sneaks out of the room while everybody else is engrossed in the movie...

But seriously, what's with horror movies nowadays? I mean, just last night I watched "Drag Me to Hell" and I wasn't impressed. Sure, there were some creepy moments or moments that made my mum and sis scream (okay, I screamed too..), but most of the time it was unscary to the point of being plain funny. There were some real laugh out loud scenes; like when the old lady's eyes popped out or when the main character sprayed blood from her nose all over her boss like a spray paint can. It was as if the creators of the show couldn't decide whether to make a comedy or a horror movie!

Overall, the plot was as thin as Liverpool's title-winning hopes (read: very thin indeed) and the movie relied on cheap sound effects and graphics worthy of a Tom and Jerry cartoon. What the horror?!

What happened to movies like The Ring (which made me afraid of television screens for a long time) or those creepy Korean horror movies with their incomprehensible plots (what is with Koreans and twisting plots? Boys over Flowers, anyone?), or even Thai horrors, low-budget as they are?

Apologies if this entry looks like a movie review. It is not. I just have to speak up against this deterioration of horror quality. As someone afraid of horror movies by nature, at least give me something genuinely scary to be afraid of!!! Argh! Do you know how frustrating this is for me?!

Speaking about horror, my sister's reaction when told that the PMR results are coming out tomorrow:

My Korean Family

It was a clear night, no clouds in the sky, a few stars here and there, the air fresh because it had been raining earlier...even though I was studying for my SPM (we all know how that sucks), I had to admit that it was a nice night. Then I heard an ear drum-busting scream from downstairs. Shocked, I realized it was my sis.

I cooled myself down and attempted to remember the moves I learnt in the taekwondo lessons I took once upon a time, ready to use them on whatever threat making my sis scream. As i was about to practice my jumping front kick and back kick, I heard my sis' voice again, this time screaming (I quote): "Ohmygod! He is so SWEET!!". That caught me thinking: which person in his/her right mind would call an intruder "sweet"?

I tiptoed down, ready to unleash hell on an unsuspecting and supposedly "sweet" robber. Instead, I found my sis in front of the TV, eyeballs glued to the screen in a trance-like state, a goofy smile on her face. I didn't know it at that time, but my sister had become the first person in my house to be infected. Her personality was slowly becoming eroded, and in its place was a growing obsession of all things Korean - that's right, she was watching...a Korean drama!!! (cue dramatic music)

Ahem, apologies for my outburst, but it was totally warranted. My sis should have been quarantined until all elements of Korean drama-ness in her had withered off, but my family, oblivious to the danger, let her be, free to spread the disease. It was only a matter of time before another member of the household was infected, and the next victim to fall was a person fully susceptible to romantic sentimentality: my poor mother (a moment of silence)

Soon, both my sis and mum were in front of the TV 24/7. At the dinner table, they would be earnestly discussing the plot of the latest episode, squealing at how cute the hero is, how sad the heroine's situation is, how evil the villain is...nobody seems to remember that the handsome first son of the family (that's me, f.y.i.) is taking an important exam. Whatever, I don't care (sob)

The next person to be infected was a neighbour of mine who happens to be my sis' best friend. Her name is Petra (not her real name), and she was totally in it as well. Here is an excerpt of a conversation between my sis and Petra:

Sis: Ohmygod!!! Is Hero A just CUTE or what?!
Petra: EXACTLY!!! But Hero B is so SWEET!!!
Sis: Yea! I so would like the heroine to end up with Hero B, but I care about hero A just as much, too...
Petra: Ohmygod, I know exactly what you mean! I've gotten to the stage where I almost don't care who she ends up with, but if she ends up with A, what about B?!
Sis: And if she ends up with B, what about A?
Petra: Exactly! Its like their torturing us with this, you know? ARGH!!!

The whole time, I was sitting nearby, forced to watch the drama because they were hogging the TV. Mind you, I had just returned home from school after taking 3 whole SPM papers, and that conversation definitely didn't help with the stress fogging my mind...

They became addicts, in the purest sense...I came back from football one day to see them crying pool-loads of water in front of the TV with a depleted box of tissues in front of them.

Eventually, they finished every single episode on the DVD. I breathed a sigh of relief...finally, the TV is mine again! Turns out, not for long...my mum and sis purchased a new Koren drama DVD In record time, and my Dad and I were back to putting up with discussions about heart wrenching plots at the dinner table.

What happens next still shocks me to this day...my DAD became infected...i mean, out of all people, my football-loving, middle-aged DAD!!!

I really am the last survivor in this house. I don't know how long I will be able to withstand the choking, sentimental Korean dramas hanging in the air like a nuclear mushroom cloud, but I plan to stay healthy as long as possible. If I do come down with it, I want you to kill me immediately, for I would never want to infect anyone else with this dangerously infectious disease. Ever!!