Hang Tuah Fails SPM From Excessive Clubbing Nights Out

The Day Of Conundrums

I stared at a mannequin with temperature aversed nipples today and thought that the world was just like a store full of mannequins. Full of superficial tits.

I went to Memory Lane today and noticed that there were 13 "Goodbye!" cards. But there was not a single "Welcome!" greeting card and thought that people won't really like you until they know you're gonna leave soon.

I went to a store today and saw a Malaysian brand trying to sound like an Italian brand selling Malaysian songket and songkoks for Hari Raya. To Malaysians who want to feel like they're wearing Italian inspired songket and songkoks, no doubt. I bought one and cursed at myself in the toilet while shaving just now.

I saw an TV commercial showing a dad looking guilty at the dinner table, when his 5 year old girl said to him "Waaahhh banyaknye makanan ayah!". And a tagline came out along the lines of "Elakkan Rasuah". And the end shot was the father reaching out and continuing to eat. And the ad was sponsored by the government.

I had to slam on the brakes today when a Subaru Impreza decked out in full Rally kit and decals emergency braked in front of me upon reaching a bump in the road.

I went to Times Bookstore today and was annoyed that there were only FHMs, CLIVEs, and NEWMAN magazines with scantily clad women on the covers when I was looking for AUGUST MAN September issue to see if they're finally putting more scantily clad babes in their content.

I wanted to buy a baju raya that is corporate yet looks rebellious, from good designer brands that are going for cheap, that doesn't look Ah Beng. I think the fashion industry is purposely avoiding my segment in their focus groups.

I walked past British India today and noticed their prices and wondered if a bunch of Malaysian designers decided to create a brand that reminds Malaysians the feeling of being screwed in the ass off of our money by the Colonists.

I wish there was a book that summarises the stories of all the other books that I've bought but never read.

Technically a cock doesn't come with balls. Only testicles near their backbones. Ironically our leaders are cocks with no balls, while the people who make up the backbone of the country are closest to all the piss work.

Caution : Calculative Risk Ahead

A lot of my friends are getting married this year. Either they're 3 years late or I was 3 years early. There's nothing worse than to turn up at a buddy's wedding with a baby in tow. There'll always be 2 camps of friends at a wedding. One that snickers at the groom on his impending doom, and another that welcomes him with open arms. You know what they say, the more the merrier. But in most cases, these wishes by baby-toting husbands are more like cheese tied to a string leading into a box trap. Obviously with a baby as an accessory, you fall into the latter category.

But as a consolation, friends' weddings also serve as a time for people like me to find a desperate purpose. To put the experiences I went through to good use, and impart my newly found wisdom to the walking dead.

Marriage, my soon-to-be domesticated compadres, will ultimately amount to a game of numbers. A series of binaries that will distinguish your right to the bed or sofa, a night at Laundry or doing the laundry. It's about calculated risks, and how to manage them.

Sure, you may get all caught up in matrimonial afterglow - you sit down together, holding each other's hands, gazing into each other's eyes and list down a checklist of magical and wonderful things that you will do for each other, with unicorn rides into the sunset, baking carrot cakes together while you cuddle your unborn child within her glowing and growing belly.

You'll be the best husband ever! And she did a great job in moulding you since the engagement. She'll be the best wife in the world, and she can't wait to fill in the role of your very own Martha Stewart.

But what makes a good husband? By doing more than what a boyfriend does?

And what makes a good wife? By doing less than what a single, available woman would?

Wrong.

It's completely the other way round. At least to you, it is.

Husbands will ultimately justify their efforts into the marriage by what they're doing LESS than what they used to, not more. For example:

1. Less going out with the blokes

2. Less time on the PSP

3. Less drinking sessions

4. Less karaokeing sessions

5. Driving with less speed

6. Spending less on himself

7. Going out with the blokes but spending LESS time than usually before and coming back early

Wives, on the other hand, will compare that with what they're doing MORE of:

1. More time in the kitchen

2. More time sorting out the laundry

3. More time cleaning the house

4. More planning (equals less spontaneity)

5. More heart to heart discussions

6. More health conscious

7. More time at home.

And these are the numbers you'll automatically pull out when the honeymoon's over, and you're being questioned on your contribution to this matrimonial relationship.

And when you men start thinking of of what you're depriving yourself of, also think of what's added on her plate.

Then maybe, just maybe...you'll both see that Hubby needs to spend more time with his friends. And Wifey needs a break from the dishes.

So you can still come home at 3am, drunk driving while playing the PSP. And do the dishes.

Either way, you still lose, you jackass.

Mano a Mano

There's this theory that time and space can be bent. And, if bent at a 180 degree angle, you get to see yourself, just in a parallel plane. If you adjust the angles, you can manipulate time and space to see the past, and possibly, the future. This can be verified by Denzel Washington, as evident in his misadventures in Deja Vu - if any of you wish to know further about this opening remark more than giving a toss to read where this is all actually leading to.

So, say you had this uncanny ability to manipulate time and space albeit the nerdy costume and gay superhero name. What would it be like? With a twist of your left and right hands, you somehow work the angles and voila, you're standing face to face with the previous you, and the future you.

Previous Me would be the one that freaks out the most, first.

Current Me would then turn to Previous Me and hug him ever so tightly, screaming phrases like "I miss you!" and "Take me back with you!" or bawling out " Don't ever leave me again!".

Then Previous Me starts kicking me in the ass, screaming out "What did you do to me?!?" or "How could you!?!!".

But suddenly, Previous Me will notice a few things that he missed out on all the commotion.

Parked in the garage is a magnificent steel stallion, idly sleeping in turbine slumber, with bared nostrils and 4 nose rings oozing out of its own charisma of dur technik, that has been versprunged.

And at the front door a beautiful lady with adoring eyes and a sunshine of comfort and heart.

And in her arms, happiness, joy and beauty bundled in a tiny human being's body.

Previous me starts to think "Dude, this is not so bad after all".

And Current Me picks himself up from the floor and brushes him off. "Yeah, you know what? You're right. This is way better than what you got going on over there...kinda" (points to 43 degree angle of warped time and space of 2002, where some Kampung Baru mongoloids were dancing on the podium in Bar Ibiza, dancing to Beyonce).

And both of them will turn to Future Me. "Let's see what you have on your side, old man".

"I can't show you." he says.

"But I'll tell you all about it over a few brewskies, gents."

And we'll talk and talk all night till the wee hours of the early morning.

Contented and pleased with ourselves, we all adjourn.

Previous Me goes away to find a chick with an apartment to crash at.

Future Me goes back to his house just in time to catch his son crawling back from his night out.

And Current Me goes back to change fresh diapers and kissing his sleeping wife goodnight, and thanking God for what he had, he wouldn't have had it any other way. And for what he has, to hold them tightly and never let go. And for all that's destined to come his way, to be true to who he was, that made him who he is, and will lead him to who he will be.

Have we met? Cause you look DAMN familiar, man.

My 28 day old baby girl woke up for her second morning feed at 6am today. I was half asleep, holding her bottle to her mouth with my right hand Taking my cue from all fatherly characters in feel good family movies, I started to softly coo and babble baby talk to her as she was noisily sucking away at the silicone teat.

But instead of getting the overly familiar giggle, smile and cute gestures back, all I get was an intense look on her face with an expression that clearly resonated a chill of deep and dark experiences from my past.

It was that unmistakable female facial expression, with slightly frowned eyebrows, cocked head to one side and questioning eyes. "Like, Can I help you? Do I know you for some reason?"

In my short tenure as a father, the same thoughts did pass by in my mind a couple of times. Do I really know my daughter? Should I take for granted that she actually knows me? Or do we both just pretend that we know each other?

So she stared at me. This giant, holding her tiny body in his arms. Popping bottles in her mouth. With that look plastered all across her face.

She doesn't know me.

But she doesn't mind. Somehow she feels that it's safe and she doesn't cry or wail or kick me in the nuts and escape by rolling herself down the stairs to the neighbors house and cry "Stranger Danger! Stranger Danger!".

I don't really know her.

But somehow I'd jump in front of a moving truck for her.

Then she kicked me into reality, signalling to me that she's had enough milk for now. I pull out, burp her while trying to ignore the milky stench, and was rewarded with a resounding audible of her poop and the unmistakable tremor in her diapers.

My Oscar Acceptance Speech

If my life was a major motion picture, and it won an Oscar, what would my acceptance speech sound like? Maybe...

"Oh my God. I mean, 'whoa!'...this is outrageous. Right. First of, I'd like to tell you all about the wonderful journey that has been the making of this extraordinary film.

It all started sometime in July '78, where the idea of this story was probably conceived by 2 brilliant people, the legendary Mr. Sufian and the ever graceful Mrs. Mardiana. The concept was a no-brainer to decide on. Within a few minutes of negotiation, the team went straight into pre-production.

All it took was 9 months before the full development of the lead character's role was born. I remember the day of shooting for the first scene in a hospital location in Pudu. Though the producer was toiling away for several hours getting the scene to come out right, the director came on set a little late, and the first take was already done. And that was the beginning of thousands of brilliant cinematography work which took nearly 30 years in the making.

I'd like to thank Mrs. Jacob of Tinkerbell for the wonderful coaching on how to read the alphabets on the script, and learning to tell the time. The impromptu "hot cross buns" performance also helped to sharpen my skills as the lead role for the upcoming scenes.

A big thank you to Ms. Jayem for the piano lessons that gave me just enough skills to memorize Fur Elise, and use it as a cheesy tool to tickle the ivories whenever the opportunity struck within the confines of a piano/keyboard and a chick. Apologies for dropping out at Grade 3 and shifting over to the drums.

The highly engaging scene at the Ulu Kelang regional ping-pong tournament could not have been choreographed as immaculately as it did without the coaching of Encik Nasa, the ping-pong coach. Although my character had to lose to the flying chinese super twins (villains) from Rawang, it was one of the highlights of the film, especially when we were forced to wear the ever colorful girl's netball team jerseys for lack of funds.

A wonderful thank you to Encik Abdullah, for conceiving his daughter, which played the lead role of the love interest in the primary school scenes, and for then leaving the country with his daughter in tow so that my character could venture on to other pastures at the age of 13.

The High School scenes

The cast and crew at MYPM was a fantastic bunch to work with for 2 years, and special thanks goes to Encik Ismail Muzir, Aton, Ramli Jawi, the wardens Encik Razak and Ustaz Md Nor for whipping my character's ass into shape. To those playing the senior roles, my heartfelt thank you for kicking me in the ass when the situation required for it to be, you sons a bitches! Couldnt have made it through adulthood if you didn't. I'm also very sorry for throwing stones at Mr. Muzir's kids as they played in the backyard of the warden's old quarters of the old dorm.

When we changed location to Melawati (after being evicted off set from MYPM due to ridiculous reasons), the new production and cast went straight to work in progressing the newer scenes. The casino scene with Shahan and Anwar Mata at his apartment, the porn sessions at Usop's house, sleepovers in the tents at padang H and basketball at Aneil's, smoking up at Afat's stairwell, the scenes shot every weekend at Salem Power Station at Lot 10 were definitely memorable moments in filmmaking.

Special thanks goes out to the costume department at Jun Saito and Cardin House in Sungai Wang for the best designs in costume history. From the 20" bawah and lipat atas designs were definitely in-season styles for those scenes. And sorry for not agreeing with you guys on the "poket belakang Batman" designs.

The LimKokWing scenes

And who could forget the slutty gals (extras) in LimKokWing for those eye refreshing days when the scenes were getting tiresome. From bra-less tops to the shortest-shorts, it provided the perfect backdrop to the adolescent scenes. Also to more smoking up sessions at the stairwells of the Tun Razak and Taman Mayang sets. And Adrian's car was one of the best props we've ever worked with, since it could be started with just a set of folded scissors and it also had an ultra cool oscillating fan on the dashboard, which was a brilliant touch that made the scene perfect.

The Rhode Island scenes :

Thanks to Arthur, Payii, Yau and Kentaro for the good stuff, Farid for the Fifa 1998 and Tekken 2 sessions and Fahar for the clubbing and drunken scenes, especially the weird night out when 2 Malaysians sesat at a wet t shirt contest, front row and tak malu. The gaduh scene at the traffic light on the way home from clubbing at Thayer Street could have been an awesome one, but alas our senses came back to us and we decided to ditch the idea.

Thanks to Bobby the chinese restaurant cook for talking in a funny accent and blowing your top off whenever we called you names in the kitchen. You're still a babboon who cant cook for nuts.

No thanks to Mr. Boyscout who came from nowhere to Rhode Island and no thanks to Fahar who dumped him in my apartment where he spent the whole night talking while I tried to sleep in drunken stupor and ignore him.

No thanks to Farid that dragged all of us all the way to Philly with the promise of 'Hot Malaysian chicks from IRC!' and wound up with a decent nasi ayam meal, a cute pose with kittens, a weird night at a weird club (coz you didnt wear shoes!) and at least a trip to six flags after 19 hours of driving in winter and playing games through the sunroof.

Thanks to Mike Schiller and Chris for being terrible paintball coaches but cool weedsters to hang out with every weekend. At least team Naga got as far as 9th place at the New England Paintball League 1999.

A big thank you to Apai for freaking out after his first X and forced the whole crew to leave early from club Hell, only to find him dancing alone in the attic with the strobe light on 3 hours later, after claiming his first 'peak'.

The Advertising scenes (FCB)

I'd like to thank Mr. SP lee for his awkward pauses in our discussions, Mimi Mook for throwing JRs back to my face, the creative teams for accusing me of being the client's lackey and the production team that printed out my mailers in the wrong grammage. And to everyone for the drinking and party sessions

The Advertising scenes (Grey)

I'd like to thank Jeff Orr and Guan Hin for the awkward pauses in our discussions, Phelo for throwing JRs back to my face, the creative teams for accusing me of being the client's lackey and the production team that printed out my mailers in the wrong grammage. And to everyone for the drinking and party sessions. Special thanks to Kamal, Eddy, Steve, Pawan, Michael and Amos, my bros before hoes.

Special Mention

Special thanks goes out to the podium girls at Forum, Barbarran, Chinois, Nouvo and Ibiza.

And to wrap it up

To my supporting cast and crew, which includes my siblings and family, thank you for being there for the ups and downs, the highs and the lows.

And to my leading lady, I know you had to work a lot on my character development, but you gotta admit, the end result is a masterpiece.

And for my parting words, I'd like to announce that we have been working on production for the past 9 months, and will be debuting our new masterpiece in the next couple of days. She's going to be a winner, this one. Even though I've only seen the first few edits only, I'm pretty sure the finished product is going to be a beauty. This will be the start of an epic film.

Daddy can't wait to meet you for the first time, babe."

The Guy's Guide To Rules Of Engagement : Chapter 2 - Species In The Kingdom Of Eve (Part A : Office Chicks)

There's just one thing that you need to know about women : That there's more than just one thing you need to know about women.

Women come in all shapes and sizes. Some symmetrical, mostly abstract. Some too big, some just nice enough, some with expiry dates, some longer and some shorter than others.

They are so uniquely individual that it's hard NOT to generalise them.

Observations of Eve's army can vary between cultures and geographical locations. And by virtue of being the melting pot of South East Asia, KL girls are as categorically unique as they come.

This guide is to serve as a handy reference tool on your next birdwatching trip, and conveniently covered by specific locations and scenarios, for easy referencing.

Part A : Office Chicks

- The Powersuit. Eats trainees for breakfast and shits them back out after her morning coffee and ciggie break just so that she can piss on them at exactly 5:28pm. Comes pre-attached with backstabbing knives mostly aimed at less stylish but hardworking female managers. Loves to have power lunches at Alexis or Lemon Garden 2 Go (Shang) with higher ranking male executives and willing to stuff a cigar in her mouth just to be one of the boys. Some have been known to be willing to stuff one of the boys' cigars in her mouth as well. Mostly dressed in black and carries cellphones that slide out with a loud "clack" sound effect. and likes to talk loudly with a lit cigarette (Marlboro Menthol Lights) stuck between her fingers, attached to arms that flail around in visually trying to prove her point to the other person on the line. Chinese ones are usually named Pearly or Arianna; Malay ones Marsila or Shirene, and Indian ones Anita or Geetha. Usually calls people "babes". Tapaus nasi lemak only for her posse of female powersuits, of which they secretly harbour dark and deep plans of outstabbing each other while they chat about which podium they danced on on Heritage Row last weekend.

- The Office Slut. Easy to spot. Easy to notice. Easy. Unlike your common slut, Office Sluts are a bit more focused in the direction of their skills. Ambitious to the point that she will usually want to be on top of everything important. Has no problems in riding it hard all way to the top. Highly adaptable to office environments and are able to work in the pantry, stairwell, staff lounge, toilets and nearby hotels if required. Usually wears clothes that look like their sewn to her body. Tapaus food from nasi campur stalls when the boss' wife is around. Office sluts usually has a medical condition which only allows their body to only bend more than 45% forward when setting documents on their boss' desk. Usually named Zaza, Nana, Lala, Zoey or Shiela.

- The Lonely Accountant. Usually bespectacled and sporting a hairband, spends lonely afternoons in her cubicle of fantasizing about magically transforming herself into a vixen with the flick of her glasses and a ruffle of her hairband-less hair, transfixing the jocks in the marketing department. Deems her collection of Mills and Boon stories as the ultimate porn and always has one stashed in her locked drawer for guilty reading pleasure sessions alone with her Pandan Kaya Bun and Spritzer. Usually called Cynthia, Mabel, Zanariah or Sheetal. Ultra Visible Panty Lines under her A line skirt or carrot cut pants. Revengeful during P&L meetings at the end of the year by subtly attempting to get Powersuits fired, but mostly friendly enough to go out for lunch outings with the Office Slut, while carefully observing and taking notes for her next internet role play webcam orgy session at home.

- The Awek Admin Dah Kawin. Usually Malay. Although married, constantly speaks about her ronggeng sessions with a male 'best friend' that the husband knows about, so don't worry. Usually seen kissing her husband's hand as she is being dropped off at the office, right before sneaking out her pack of cigarettes from her secret stash and kicking off the morning gossip for the day. Cleverly adapted names such as Arinz from Nor Sarinah or Kak Jam from Jamilah. Dyed haircolor. Calls other women "nyah", "mek" or "Nok". Uses key words like "That's mean" most of the time and is the center of nearly every political plot in the office. Interestingly enough, most people will trust her with information in exchange for everyone else's information. President of the office CNN (Cibai News Network) and has carefully recorded information on every boardmember's tryst with the Powersuits and Office Sluts, which she plans to use for a rainy day.