Sunday, May 31, 2009

And She Said...

Nouveena: You are never going to get a girlfriend. 

Geraldine: You are never going to get a girlfriend.

Michelle: Hee Hee Hee!

How to Hit on GIrls.

1) Look them in the eye

2) The best pick up line in the world is not, aloha, ola or boo. The best, of the entire lot are hey or hi. 

3) Ensure you have great body hygiene for girls often put of by eau de eww. Actually, thats just for me. I dislike smells. 

4)  Get a suit and suit up. That sounds very Barney Stinson, I know, however, a suit is a beautiful thing nonetheless! The cut of a suit is manufactured perfectly for the male body, accentuating the boxes and squares where there should be boxes and squares. Suits are sexy, ties are dapper and black shoes elegant, making them my clothing of choice. A man in a suit is like a macbook; beautiful on the outside, hardcore on the inside. Suits were made by men for men. Sexist you may think? Since when have you ever seen or heard a Joanne's Suits for Men? 


However, by suit I'd also mean something you think might attract the better of the sexes. Its common sense not to wear your shameless, "10 reasons why beers are better than women" shirt to a feminist rally. 



5) Choose your class! Hitting on any Joan, Ling Pei or Kurnakovana will not do wonders for you. If you are a considerably dapper individual who has a certain leaning towards the proper usage of the english language, for common sense's sake. Please don't go for a english impaired female (lalas, whatever, you get what I'm on about). I beg of you. There you will be running your mouth with the most polished of the queen's english and there she will be; wondering where they made arrogant, incomprehensible buttocks like you. 

Its the same if you're a man of many colors (I had to find a more polite term for lala), please don't try anything with that lady in a simple suit walking out of a library. Chances are she'll think you're a blubbering nitwit. 

Choose wisely and carefully. Lions to meat and rhinos to grass. 




6) If you have nothing nice to say, chances are you probably shouldn't be talking to her as a relationship won't go anywhere. No happily married man has nothing nice to say to his wife on their first date. 
 

4) Here's a guide on what to say. Match it according to your needs.

 First:Hi or Hey.

Second: I noticed that you had, I never knew that, What's your, Can I get you a.

Third: any positive adjective. Awesome, great, wonderful, incredible. 

Four: any suitable noun. 

Five: smile confidently and wait to see what her reaction is. If its favourable, please do remember that your success was only made possible by this blog. If not, then you probably did something wrong and you should find another target. 

5) Women are as scared of you as you are of them! Maybe not. Heh heh, if you're scared of them, you're dead sucker. 


6) Pretend everything she says is witty, interesting and funny. Make her feel like she's oh so interesting. "Jo, you're such a deceiving piece of fungus," you might say. However, once she's someone special in your life, and all those dull, boring things she says turns into the most charming syllables; then you can tell her that you didn't really listen to what she was saying. Because you were too lost in her eyes to notice anything else. 

7) Small talk is what it is. Small talk. Notice the words "small" its not "intelligent", "passionate" or even "interesting". Its small talk, you don't have to be smart to make small talk, simply comment on something intelligent that she would be interested in. (wink)

8) Remember, girls are girls and they must be treated with respect. Never open the door for her, as this would send out a signal saying that she's a weak, clueless child who is unable to twist a doorknob. Do not pay for her drink as this would imply she's a homeless ragamuffin who can only live thanks to pity from the likes of you. And under any circumstance, never ever compliment her looks. From her point of view, she doesn't need a guy like you to flatter her, she's her own woman, strong and proud. This would immediately repel her right away from you. 

9) Be rude. Cause women like unshaven bad boys. 


10) A wingman is needed to make up stories of your incredible bravery or whatever. 





Disclaimer- The author has never had a girlfriend in his life, has never talked to a girl without experiencing acute shock and suffers from severe gynophobia. Follow "How to Hit on Girls" at your own risk. 


Saturday, May 30, 2009

How to Talk to Gurls.

Look them in the eye. 

Erm...

Erm...

Erm...

Erm...

Erm...

For Daryl and Jo Wee


There was never much hope. Just a fool's hope. 

Friday, May 29, 2009

Bullets

Bullets ripped around me as I dashed forwards. Finger on the trigger button as my RPD chattered violently at the angry yellow flying from a building towards me. I knew who I was fighting, I had taunted him a month ago online. And there he was, crosshair over my head, catridge full and now firing at me. 


I was frightened. I knew that out of a hundred bullets I had, I've just used twenty bullets covering my rush. Stopping for a breather in a bombed out building, I paused for a breath and reloaded my weapon. I might need more than a few pieces of lead to take this guy out. All the while, I was reloading, team mates were dying, enemy fire was lethal; fire all all different kinds proved to be murderous. However, my mates in arms where cutting a swath of their own. Bombs fell. I decided to run again. 

  Charging on the right of the building where I knew Daryl was standing in wait to plug my skull with .45 caliber bullets. Still trying to flank him, I killed an enemy. An easy job, he was a sniper too engrossed with his prey to notice that hunter had become hunted. I didn't wait to savour my small victory as my kill appeared on the tally board. Daryl was to my left, still alive and firing. 

Flicking my eyes, to the left of the screen,I noticed Daryl had taken out two friendlies in a row. Another and he would have radar, which made it possible to realize he was being flanked by a guy with a huge soviet-era machine gun. He could not get another kill I realized almost instantly. A radar also meant that all my teamates would be exposed and hunted down easily. Thankfully, he was camping. Like the camper he is. 

As I jumped above the wall into an abandoned HQ directly behind where my target was standing. I realized things had become oddly silent. Machine guns did not have their menacing chatter, sniper rifles did not have a terrifying Booms and rifles did not whisper. I wondered why, only to realize that the wind of battle had changed. It was now defensive match. Opposing teams sat silently in shadows with their guns pointed at where they thought Daryl and his friends were doing the same. The report of a machine gunner firing as he tried his luck was heard. I hoped the idiot wasn't a friendly. He was. 

Instantly, I knew a red dot would flash on every enemy's radar reporting the twit's position. In the next mili second, every enemy had his guns pointed on my friend. Next, hell broke loose as bursts of fire echoed by the successive booms of sniper fire sealing his fate. Then a whisper from a rifle and his name appeared on my screen. Another dead I thought, then my hair stood on end. Daryl had taken the kill. 

Our entire team's position revealed, fire broke loose from both sides. Bullets recreated what seemed like an orchestra of flying metal. At that moment, I was in position behind my quarry and I searched the screen for a tell tale sign of Daryl.

Flipping on his radar garnered from his last kill, Daryl spotted on his radar a single red dot flashing behind him. He whizzed around and began tapping shots inches away from where I was standing. 

Then I spotted him. 


There he was, firing bursts from his carbine, his character staring blankly back at mine. This was a grudge, no mercy would be shown too much male ego and pride rested on this. I ran for cover as his shots plinked quietly around me. Ironic, that death would be so silent. A silence. He was out of bullets!!

       Seizing that moment, I dashed out of cover and unloaded into the building I knew he was in. I fired through the wall, guessing where he would be as both the buildings we were in lighted rhythmically. He ducked out of cover and fired on me. And I brought my machine gun to bear on him. Both of us strafed left and right, trying to avoid each other and of course, to kill. Finally, after fifteen bullets. Daryl's character paused. Then fell to the ground. 

I had won.

My teams victory followed and Daryl had to eat humble pie. 

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

I am bored.

This was their encore. 

Sunday, May 24, 2009

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO!!!



Big Ben. Heh heh heh. 

You're old now.
You're old now.

White hair.
White hair.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO 
 
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!


Saturday, May 23, 2009

Pfft.

Lerida says: You're beautiful Jo, and not in a girly way
Lerida says: But in a soulful way
Lerida says: and even though you annoyed the $%^ out of people
Lerda says: they're the same people you have touched a deeper part of. 

Goodness.. I was online for twenty minutes to half an hour coaxing that out of her. Pfft. 

Friday, May 22, 2009

Bad Habits

Over here in the beautiful but slightly boring land of oz, I have picked up some startlingly bad habits. Of these.

1) Not showering for days. Its far too cold to step into the shower. Not only that, my toilet happens to have a window right next to the cold outside; not the middle of the house where it is nice and warm. Think I am disgusting don't you? Well, you couldn't tell. No one can. It'll be our little secret. 

I only shower when I can't stand myself anymore. 

2)I do not change my underwear. Or my clothes for that matter, the record was four days. Yes ladies and gentlemen, you can stop reacting like that, you might blow a facial muscle. Thats gonna be more disgusting than anything else believe me. 

3)I do not bursh my teeth regularly. But I still have my pearly whites pearly! 

4) I do not hang my clothes out to dry on a clothes line. I just take them out of the laundry and and put them in a basket. They dry off exactly when I need them to dry off. 

5) I eat instant noodles and bread with nutella alot. What better thing is there to eat when you're hungry and there's a lack of time to prepare anything else? Not only that, I have to pay 12 rm for a sandwich. Please... don't judge me.

6) I grab my house mate's boobs from time to time when I need to be cheered up. 

7) I have become a very racist individual. I dislike china chinese. One of which happens to be a good friend here. Did I mention I am starting to contradict myself more and more? 

8) I cannot stop bragging about friends back in Malaysia. 

9) I don't wash my jeans. You know the pair of jeans I was wearing at the airport? Not washed. For three full months. My other pair of blue jeans too. 

10) I've been desensitized to Ian Cheah. So many of his kind are here. 




To Sher

To me, you are like a mother. 
A dearest friend and teacher. 
Someone I look up to and treasure.
Someone I can say to others, that I know her.

I think you're beautiful in so many ways.
Your heart, your words and you actions. 
They gave me joy and made me happy. 
And gave me so many reasons to admire you. 

You're someone who gave me hope
Someone I can look back and say
She was someone who molded me along the way. 

I love you very much. 
When I heard the news I felt like crying. 
Its not fair, thats what I think. 
I felt so bad. Its just so unfair. 

I grieve with you. 
Though I can't measure your grief. 
I feel like questioning God and demanding Him why. 
But I guess its for a reason.

Remember the story about those footsteps in the sand?
Now there's only a single person's footprints in the sand. 
God is carrying you while you cry. 
I love you very much sher.  

I wish I was there to hug you.
To be there with you.
Standing there awkwardly not knowing what to say.
But letting you know I'm with you, probably the only thing I can say. 




Thursday, May 21, 2009

Ants!

The Bible, I admit; may not be the most interesting of all books to me. After all, mortals like me much prefer the allure of Archie and friends to David and his merry men cutting the foreskins off hundreds of Phillistines. To boring people with boring imaginations that are made dull by the constant cutting of television and video games, the Bible is a dull place. I am beginning to rediscover the movie trailer excitement the Bible offers. 

However, as I am typing this. Not working, lifting weights or studying like I should be. I ponder about what the Bible has to say about people who prefer to slack off and the Bible immediately shouts in my ear. ANTS. 

Those little twerps God is using to make us, giant supremely intelligent beings seem small must be smugly twitching their arrogant little antennae. We sorta expect ourselves to be given lessons from, perhaps, the Lion or maybe the eagle. But the Bible goes and says,"the ant. Stop watching discovery channel and look at the coke stain you left on the table. Learn from those little guys. 

The army of the ants. Trudging on under the scathing heat of summer, scrambling during the cool of spring and autumn and finally feasting on regurgitated vitamins during winter work all day. They march about without a leader, an army without general, commander or sergeant. And they still manage to haul huge dead insects into their complex complexes and form unstoppable rivers of red through dense forests. Simply eating, chewing or walking around and above anything in their path. They build towering fortresses, untouchable by a desert's weather and deep underground bunkers, able to survive the savagery of a forest. 

All through hard, unceasing work. And they do it unsupervised. 

I am embarrased. I have been thought a lesson by an ant. Somehow, perhaps this is justice, after all, we never gave a second thought about the humble ant. We never really wondered about all of this when we sprayed cans of biochemical materials all over them. I never really bothered when I squashed them for my own amusement. ( evil I know, but who hasn't done it?)

Yet these picked on creatures are found in most every household, and is personally regareded as one of natures most tenacious insects. If ants were human, oceans would be drained to make land for suburbs, mountains turned into shopping malls and valleys turned into (insert something cool, and industrious and human ants can do; I've run out of ideas)

Perhaps I should learn from the ant. But I'm sleepy.  

War Redeclared.



Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Arms Held High

In surrender. I hold my arms high in heavy, sad yet somehow liberating surrender. My battle with my weight and my tummy is is going nowhere as I am besiged by foods of the most fattening nature. Try as I might to avoid them, that divinely delicious mars bar can seem so tempting in the middle of a particularly boring lecture. I am sleepy, my tummy empty, my will turns girly.

And so I give in. I happen to give in quite alot, however, yesterday was the last straw for me. I have given up my weight battle. As such, I consider every comment about my size, my shape or the amount of blubber i have on my torso an attack that is both demeaning and insidious and I will respond as such.




I mope.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

How Uncool.


Zac Efron. Zac Efron. Zac Efron. PFFFT. The hair, the smile, the suit, the muscles, the age. GENTLEMEN, LETS NOT FORGET HE EARNED HIS NOTORIETY THROUGH HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL!! 

Imagine if George Clooney, or Brad Pitt, or Orlando Bloom or Hugh Jackman or Daniel Craig had earned their stripes by prancing around with basketballs in tune with descecratingly stereotypical pop music. Or by singing about soaring and crawling, flying and whining.

Ridiculous.

 Why on earth are the even dancing with basketballs! Understood, dancing is art, but if I personally started popping or shuffling on the basketball court, all hell in the form of ten brutal preshowered teenage boys will come smashing down on me. And there he is, smilling ever so charmingly while bouncing his ball in rhythm. And to further add insult to injury, HE'S SINGING. 

SPUTTER. 

And here ol Zacy is on the cover of a sexually charged, sophisticated and luxurious fashion magazine for men with a looney smile plastered on his face! IMAGINE all the thirteen year old girls falling in love with what is to become an icon for his generation. Now all boys have to sport looney, geeky smiles with devil may care sloppy fringes and insanely hot bodies. Worse, they have to know how to sing diabolically addictive lollipopish songs.

Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. THANK YOU ZAC!  I am so jealous.

How To Cook Sambal


Cooking sambal can be a very enlightening experience. Especially when you realize how easy the cornerstone of Malaysian culture is crafted. It is bold, red, beautiful and spicy. Sometimes exotic, erotic and does nicely. 

First, get your culinarily experienced housemate to buy red chilli powder. This is in no way the easy part as there are many red items in the supermarket. Try not to buy anything that isn't powder as it would probably be a real chilli and that would make life supremely difficult. Also try to steer clear of powders that aren't red those are normally used to kill cocroaches. However, if you feel up to getting rid of a particularly annoying housemate, you may mix the white powder with crunched up chilli. It might taste different, but your housemate can't tell if he's dead. 

I normally use BaBa's as my master had thought me. Next, buy onions also debated as a shallots. This is also extremely important as sambal without shallots are like Sheep without the S making them heep. Or God without the G making it od.  with. Also, don't forget to include garlic. Remember onions and garlic are the corners of asian cooking. How about the other two corner's? No. 

Slice the shallots and garlic. Put into pan with oil. Fry. Endure a scolding from your master for being so untidy. Add water, put chilli powder. Wait until it looks like sambal. 

Confucious once said, a hot wife without brain is like sambal without fragrant rice. So serve with fragrant rice! Or risk a comatose hot wife.  

Gorge.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

How To Make Chinese Veggie

First, one must understand the fundamental pillars of chinese cooking. These are:

Garlic

Onion

Lee Kum Kee (oyster sauce)

Soya Bean Sauce.

Once you begin to congtrol the four elements of chinese cooking, you can cook anything you want! Just put soya sauce, and garlic. It is then guaranteed to taste vunderbar! However, if you still think it tastes bland, get some Lee Kum Kee and dominate your tastebuds with it sweet, salty taste. It being sweet and salty, how can a true blooded chinese such as a myself possibly stand not dipping my taste bud dipper into the delicious dishes? 

So here on chef Wong! I shall teach you how to make chinese Veggie! The first step, is not very important. First buy any veggie you like! However, don't buy veggies that look brown or red or yellow or whatever for that matter. The veggie must be green as a bean! If its anything else, you've bought a chicken or a potatoe and potatoes are not good for your toes. 

Rinse the veggies. Remember. We must eliminate anything brown, or yellow, or red for that matter. All veggies must be green, there must be nothing brown, or yellow, or red for that matter. 

Cut up the veggies in bite portions. DO NOT SLICE THE VEGGIES INTO GULLIVER SIZE. Just don't; chinese eat with chopsticks, not knives and forks. Next step, start chopping ze garlic and onions. 

Fry the onions and the garlic and until you smell ze delicious aroma. Wow! Tantalizing, if its smells italian, you've got it wrong. If it smells like a chinese woman, chances are you've got it wrong too. If it smells like Garlic and Onions being friend? Dang it, you're right on track!

Toss in the vegetables. Be prepared to here the simmer and the zimmer. Simmer and zimmer ist veli gud. I speak in german because you must be as precise as a german here! Grab the rice wine and agak agak, (the complete opposite of precise) pour in the rice wine. Thats going to be the sauce. The agak agak again throw in Lee Kum Kee! If you're trying to stuff a chinese woman into the frying pan, chances are you're wrong. Put down you're mom and reach for the oyster sauce. Fry. 

Next! Add water to make zee sauce saucy and zexy. Make it purr like a kitten. Once your got the purr (sizzle and zimmer). You've got it right. Wait for it to soften and WALA! 

Your steak is finished. 


My Blog List