My Colourful Fishes Inspire Better

Did anyone noticed how skinny my fishes are these days?

There's a lot of things that I would like to do these days. Who doesn't? I mean, in life, people would like to fill theirs with happy stuffs as much as they possibly can. Let it be in terms of quality or quantity, objects of possession or frantic experiences, giving or receiving, et cetera. I would like to fill my life with happy stuffs, such as this.

Writing is still one of my happy things I like to do. Time, no, convenience does not allow me to do so. Well, I've that used that excuse for a lot of things. Friends, exercising, family, etc. To me, busy is not a good excuse. I use it occasionally but hear me here that I'm not that fond of seeing myself being careless in time management.

Hence, here I am trying to work my way back to what was my weekly, if not daily, source of mental apple pie.

So, today I am writing a review. Please allow me to start the next paragraph with a bolded title.

Inspire the 10-Year-Old Me

I went to watch Tun Mahathir The Musical early last week. Credit to Ainee and Kerel for the awesome seating. I came in my formal shirt and pants as any nice gentleman would attend the theatre - especially a high profile biographical play. Plenty of beautiful ladies around the multi-tiered hall and nicely dressed pakcik and makcik attending the show to witness their beloved former national leader celebrated in a play. It was a nice atmosphere for a show of this stature. It was about Tun Mahathir and I had high expectation for a play about a leader of his magnitude.

Well, suffice to say I was frustratingly disappointed (note the two adjectives applied). I won't say whether I am or not a big fan of the man, but impartiality would not credit my feelings otherwise.

I can forgive the following things:
1. Pre-recorded musics
2. Excessive stage performers
3. Glare-prone lighting directions
4. Amateur-ish scripts
5. Cheap background video editing

However, the very essence of a biographical play is whether it inspires or not. Failure to do so defeats the purpose of crafting a high-profile play of a high-profile person on a high-profile stage.

It was like watching an educational film, the kind that you show to primary school kids to learn about our nation's rich histories - our leader is good, our enemies are bad, all he did was right and whatever his enemies did was wrong. This is a stage where intellectual people attend to be inspired by great works of our local playmakers. We (as it seems now that I openly claim that I am in fact an intellectual person) would like to be respected with stories where process of thoughts is challenged and our minds can tingle in excitement from learning the ultra-wide human perspectives. Alternatively, at the end of a good play, I would hope to feel that I should go to a bookstore and read more about what he did.

However, I felt I could have settled with my jeans and collared T-shirts and probably a dewan sekolah rendah (you know the kind that you have to merge a row of classes, rearrange the desks and chairs to make space for the general assembly) would have been a suitable stage for the quality of the play, with me as a 10 years old with my school friends as their marginally interested audience, although we're forced by our educators to go through the 3 hours of torture as punishment for wearing jeans to school.

I came with a wish to be inspired. A leader inspires and his story should be inspiring. I was not inspired by any part of the play. All I learnt from the play was Teh Halia seems quite nice and I shall try it soon.

Even the beautiful lady sat behind me left at half time. You see that, 'bad play'? You made my potentially future wife/scandal ran away.

Just Say Hello is Good Enough

I think I just saw some cobwebs around the corners of this blog.

I already cleaned it up and I hope I can return to my writing habit again. I do enjoy writing. I just recently very occupied with a lot of things.

First, I am currently employed. I think it's been a month. Then secondly, I am getting myself a car - which will arrive in two weeks.

I'm not here to tell these stories yet. That's for next week. I just want to move the previous not-so-happy-ish article further down.

Until then, I'm thinking of redecorating. Hopefully I can turn this into something that I can do for a longer time.

I Smell GAS

I was passing through the living room when my dad was watching the news on the idiot box, I saw a news report on the gathering organized by Gerakan Anti-Samy Vellu, or GAS. Something happened during the gathering, I'm not too sure.

I'm not really a news watcher nor do I read newspaper exclusively. I occasionally caught some glimpses of something on something and casually move on - which glorify my ignorance on local politics (nor exactly I'm a professional on international ones) and nation's top 10 baby dumpers. Hence, as usual, I glimpsed and moved on.

Nevertheless, as that short stint of news exposure lingered inside my head, I thought I should attempt to not appear too ignorant in this entry. I then did a small, no, tiny research what is this all about.

...

Nah, I'll do that later.

That news triggered a quote I once read by Mother Teresa, "I was once asked why I don't participate in anti-war demonstrations. I said that I will never do that, but as soon as you have a pro-peace rally, I'll be there."

Not that I compare Samy Vellu with war or anything as such. I was just wondering how people can detest an invidual so much that he, as a person, was antied out completely. Maybe at this point, GAS members, if they're reading this, would love to lend me their 497 pages of list of those reasons (and I'm sure that list was done on A3 papers).

Oh by the way, there's Gerakan Anti-Mugilan on Facebook.

I'm okay with anti-crime, anti-corruption, anti-slavery, etc. Wait, no. I'm not. I'm for pro-peace, pro-transparency, pro-equality, etc.

This was also mentioned too in that The Secret book, I think. I don't have that a good memory but I'm pretty sure it's there. Be that as the book may crap be (seriously read this book to a child in Africa and they will grab that book from you and cook it with salty rock for flavour), the more you talk about bad things, eventually bad things will happen to you. Something like, "I don't want to be fat," and saying that a few hundred times, a fatty you will be.

What I'm trying to say is, it is just not that all effective to promote such campaign, even it has a cool acronym. Gerakan Anti-Barisan Nasional or GABAN probably could steer some interest from me at 6-year-old.

GAS just steer the human nature of opposing something, which we tend to do in most cases because it is easier to not like something rather than liking it. Well, maybe, I'm not too sure. Or perhaps, humans tend to say things about what they don't like rather things that they do like. Or maybe something like that saying where we only realize that something is missing when we don't have it anymore.

What I'm trying to say, again, is that fighting to overthrow an individual is a bad, or ugly, message to the kids, or perhaps people in general. The act is short term (it's something like when it is done, you either figure what is next or pick another loser to depose), lack of positive revolution, and demean us as civilized people.

How can I do it better? Well, I don't really know. I'm not an expert in politics nor I think I'm in the position to formulate the world peace guidelines. It's just easier for me to dislike this kind of thing and say something about it, you know?

In Search of the Ultimate

I can vaguely recall my very first burger. I was somewhere around 4-5 years old and we, the family, went up to an A&W Restaurant in Petaling Jaya. I had a burger, I think it was beef.

My first crave for burger was inspired from Archie's comics. I thought whatever that was that Jughead fought so hard to get must be really good. Although initially what I asked my parents for was a hamburger. The response was similar when I asked for a roast boar (one of my life long ambition is to enjoy a fine roast boar the way Obelix did), "How about we give you something better?".

And I got an A&W beef burger.

And it was okay.

I knew it won't be as magical as how Jughead enjoyed his hamburgers. I mean, it was just food. And A&W beef burger was not really that extravagant. Not bad, just not that magical.

Ever since then, I question myself, "Is there such thing as a magical burger?"

Well, I didn't actually question myself that (I was 5 remember?). I just thought it could add some flavour to this entry - a pinch of sweet and sour melodramatic salt.

And by magical I didn't mean it to be like it could send me to the stars - well, except metaphorically - you know what I mean.

I always have enjoyed KFC's Zinger Burger and McDonald's Cheeseburger as fine selections among the fast food chains. Burger King's Whoppers, Carl's Jr's (can't remember what I had) or any kind of burgers at Chilli's or TGIF's are among the second tier of my taste buds. I'm quite inconsistent with street burgers. Some are far better than those you can find any mainstream food providers, and some are just plain belong to the longkang next to the burger stall. But none, among those burgers mentioned, had exactly fasten my seat belt in a rocketship, did the countdown and press the big red 'Launch' button to throttle me up among the galaxies.

If I have to pick my current number one, my vote goes to the A&W's Mozza Burger, just like the one I'm having right now.

What's Next?

I just turned 25.

I have a wish made around the same date last year. I postponed it for another priority. That priority has now passed and done.

Should that wish now climb up on the to-do list?

Perhaps, the wish never did fall from its original place. It has always been there on top of my head. It's not like I wished for a carrot and I can just go to a store and get it - well, buy it with money - and I have to know which store to go that has fresh looking and tasty carrots - and cheap too if possible because money is not unlimited - unless that carrot gives eternal happiness - as long it's within my spending ability.

It's just not like a carrot, to a certain extent.

It has been always on the side of life. It was there when I was on a queue to buy a cup of coffee. It was there when I was sitting in the park enjoying my sushi. It was there when I stopped by a cupcake store.

It's not exactly a wish, really.

Nor I shouldn't have brought it up as a wish. Just a momentary relapse of strong will, especially in time of retrospection - such as about this day.

I am now 25.

Compared to last year, I do think I have not changed that much, as a human being. I mean, I did improved on certain areas, I think, but along the way, as old bad habits eventually gone, I gained other new ones.

It's inevitable I suppose. The nature of our lives is that we continuously learning and fixing ourselves - unless you're a super perfect human being, regular maintenance is sufficient.

Hence, wishing to be a better person is pointless. It is an ongoing practice of us as human beings. Maybe it's okay for specific objectives, i.e. wishing to be a crime fighting super hero.

I'm not very sure where I'm going with this. Maybe I just wanted to exercise my thoughts to come up with a better life objective for this coming chapter of my life.

At the moment, I just wish to get a job.

If you know any architecture/building/construction R&D jobs available anywhere, let me know.

I Always Lie

A maniac promises to not kill the victim if anyone could correctly guess what she (yes, the maniac is a little girl) will do. What would the maniac do if a moron guessed that she will kill the poor innocent victim?

Mind blowing!

Oh, another one.

What would happen if Pinocchio says, "My nose will grow!"?

I do enjoy paradoxes because they teach us that it is possible to be in such complex positions where logical solution does not exist. Logical in this sense is that the solution justifies the premise, I think. I'm not very sure. You can google it yourself.

Well, I guess it is very unlikely that there can be an idiot interrupting a police investigation and tell the crazy little girl that she will kill the innocent little boy (wrong day to piss off the wrong little girl, dude).

In Pinocchio situation, however, the only way to justify the situation is to convict the premise, if that in fact is possible, or even the right thing to do so.

I'm not very sure.

Don't worry, the following sentence will have the answer. The previous statement is true.

In Desperate Attempt

It has been a couple of times, or maybe a lot more, that I have set myself in front of the computer, and tried to put in an entry - as evidently so, none were successful. I have been through this phase quite a lot and the reason being is still the same - why bother?

I have managed to put in 217,532 words since this blog was created. I have spent approximately 2,049 hours on putting up those words, including research and multiple drafts. Although the numbers mentioned was never actually proven, it does not change the following - that I do think I have written quite a lot.

Relatively, to many of other amateur writers, this is pretty much nothing really.

It's not about the quantity, or at least, alone.

Mine is not very quality either - and that may be the issue. Quality is when words manage to influence lives. How to know when our product is of high quality? The number of lives influenced determines the quality of the words. Hence, quantity does matter.

What I'm trying to say here is that it doesn't matter how frequent I put up an entry here. It's about the quality. However, since I've been very quiet for the past 3 years, I'm losing audiences and hence, there's no point of having quality if there's no one to appreciate it.

The number of this blog visitors has declined an average 23% a month for the past 38 months. Why? Because consistency is problem. Quantity does matter.

People in general does not seek quality all the time. That part is subjective to their own perception. Productivity is key. Hardwork is a significant factor. People in general enjoy being in luxury - to have the freedom of choices.

I have no where to go here. I'm just putting up words.

And by the way, none of the numbers quoted above are justified.

Tool Up, Honey Bunny

Here I am again making another unnecessary reviews on movies. Seriously, I got to get myself to write about something else! I mean, well, not that I haven't done anything else worthy to blog about. Maybe I'm just lazy. And the easiest stuff to write about is, for me at least, movie reviews.

It was Thursday last week and I forced my sister to come along and watch Kick-Ass with me (she only watches movies on Wednesdays). The movie poster doesn't do the actual movie justice. The trailers, well, not too bad. The movie? The title itself is possibly self-explanatory. Yes, it does kick ass, a lot of it, mine, my sister's and everyone else in the cinema.

I felt the beginning of the movie is kinda Spiderman-ish. I mean, it's not bad. It's good in its own way - witty, fun and all those deep-about-superhero-philosophy thingy. Some might feel bored about it 'cause you know, we all have had enough of that 'with no power comes with no responsibility' shit, or something like that. Spiderman did it, Batman too and Superman as well. They all are just complex insecure steel-on-the-outside-and-faggot-inside heroes. Kick-Ass may or may not fall under those categories. It's up to you. I don't think so for me anyway.

Just as the movie goes on, the true worth of the movie starts to unfold. It's pretty cool for Nick Cage to take a small yet significant role in this film. His character and his daughter possibly make up for the whole kickassness of the movie. Hit Girl got to be the coolest superhero ever. Well that’s a bit of an overstatement – there’s Batman, Spiderman, Iron Man (why not Ironman?), Optimus Prime and the list goes on. Nevertheless, I believe Hit Girl is able to turn men into pedophiles. Yes, it is that sick.

The movie is fresh, exciting and potentially my best movie of the year.

Iron Man 2? Well, I went and watched the movie the day after. I know it’s Friday but who cares I got a free ticket. And owh the movie is alright. Robert was great in the movie as always. Agent Romanoff is hot. Pepper Potts is sweet as ever. I kinda disappointed they removed the 'you complete me' scene at the beginning of the movie. Don Cheadle should have been Rhodey in the first movie. Hadron collider, really, Tony? I hope Thor will come out as good as this movie.

Nevertheless, I still walked out the movie humming The Dickies' Banana Splits.

Movies on Wednesdays

Last Wednesday, me and ma' buddies (well, my sister and her husband) went to catch a movie at the Cineleisure, Mutiara Damansara. Our pick of the day was the Clash of the Titans.

Well, if you’re wondering what the movie is all about and simply lazy to spend 48 seconds (yes I tried) to google it in another browser tab (or window, whichever comfortable with your pants), Clash of the Titans is a fantasy film engaging the story of Perseus, the son of Zeus and his adventure (which was caused by revenge) which involves the killing of Medusa (the snake-as-hair bitch), and the all powerful Kraken (I don’t care if I spoil the ending here because we all know that heroes always win and good boys will always get the good girls).

Anyway, I don’t care much about the plot of the story. All I know was that Greek mythology stuffs are supposed to be filled with magical shits – you know, Zeus with the lightning thingy, Poseidon with the ocean (or water altogether?), etc.

However!

Well, Hades was alright, I think. Not bad with his bad-ass evil-looking magic. But Zeus? The only power that I remember he executed was his transformation into a hawk (which greatly eases his transportation from Mount Olympus to Earth. Apparently hawk is faster than riding his own lightning) and into a random enemy king which helped him to get laid with the queen. Seriously, where’s all the zipzap lightning? I mean, yeah there were some lightning and thunder that your very presence made them in the sky but dude, you could have actually, you know, zapped Hades, or anyone you like (or in fact, hate) into dust. But you chose to be weak and gay for human love – which is amplified by the gayness of your costume and your friend’s as well.

Perseus? Percy Jackson was way cooler with his tsunami-ish power. If I wanted to look at raw fighting movies, there are plenty of schoolboys fights videos in YouTube which are way better. Nevertheless, Sam, I liked you in Avatar. Not this unfortunately. Not your fault. We all know whose is it.

There are other stuffs that I don’t like about the movie, which is plenty. Suffice to say that as soon as the movie ended, we walked out of the cinema and went straight back into the queue to buy tickets for another movie – just to wash off the stupidity of the movie – which we went and watched How to Train Your Dragon.

That movie was awesome. I loved it very much. It neutralized the bodohness of the previous whatever-the-movie-was-called movie and made us very happy and later we went on and had a very happy dinner.

Seriously, go watch How to Train Your Dragon.

And waste your money at the Clash of the Titans.

Whichever sequence you like, it doesn’t really matter.

Dan Brown's Deception Point

I just finished reading Dan Brown's Deception Point - my second completely read novel of all time, and more to come. Well, not that I have grown to attach with this type of literature. Maybe the abundance of time that I currently have opens myself to new things. Nevertheless, I pretty much enjoyed it. It's a good read.

Okay. To review the book with just "it's a good read" is an insult to my hommies Dan and to my own level of writing. Not that I attempted to hint that I'm a good writer. I am, in fact, mediocre but with occasional Pulitzer-quality performance.

Maybe just one or two times.

Anyway, let me start this by telling you what the book is all about. I gonna try this with a football game analogy. Boy, I hope it works.

Politics is the stadium, or perhaps the playing field itself. The players consist of politicians (of course), an intelligence analyst, science people which include space researchers, iceberg nerds, soldiers, etc. I can't reveal all the details of the story is it's just gonna spoil your own experience if you're going to read this later.

But what I like most about this story is that how each of these players played a crucial part in determining the end score results of the game. Sometimes the ball landed on the geologist feet and he then made significant plays that changed the flow of the game. The politicians sometimes were clueless without the ball but apparently the fate of their future was heavily dependent to what's going on at the other side of the field. Occasionally, a small wind gust could help the ball movement around the park to whichever sides that can benefit from it. Every bits and pieces of what's happening around the stadium was significant.

Well, basically that's how I see it anyway. There's a lot more people involved around the story. I mean, well, there's an amazing discovery made by NASA and a lot of people are both benefiting and losing from this world-changing breakthrough. Stakeholders include the politicians (again), private space companies, backed-by-the-government science organizations, and humanity in general. There, a lit bit of information for you guys. It doesn't reveal anything important. I just wanted to make the book seems cooler.

I like this better than the Da Vinci Code. Maybe because it involves things that I like - politics and science. Both together and not individually. Shall I give a star rating?

Maybe 4 out of 5 stars.

My Rotten Brain

The brain rots.

Well, not really rotting as in decaying into smaller pink sponges (that's how I think a brain is like). I have found myself to be significantly inadequate in using my brain to process thoughts - in other words, I'm quite a moron lately.

Well, I don't have specific stories to illustrate the previous notion. It's just that lately I've been thinking and intending to update this blog and every time I tried and sat down to pour my inner gold, my brain drew, well, if its not nothing it's mostly dusts.

I think I read less nowadays. I watch TV less as well.

I have no opinion on anything these days.

I just bought the latest TIME Magazine and today, I just started to force myself to like the intellectual channels on Astro, i.e. Discovery Science, TVIQ, National Geographic, etc. Hopefully, this effort will spark some thoughts and I can start writing again.

Sigh.

I need to go back to Uni quickly. My brain is starting to fatten up.

And as do I.

Siiiggghhh.

Finally, Another Entry

I just finished reading my first novel ever, The Da Vinci Code.

Yes, my first novel ever.

I don't read novels. Well, before this anyway. Apparently my unexpected long vacation has provided me just the motivation sufficient to push me till the last page of the book. I don't think I need to write my own review of the book, as the purpose of this current entry is the very idea of it - reading literature, lengthy one that is.

I started my interest in literature through comic books, and that was back in early 1990s. Hong Kong comics were to me like insulin shots to diabetes patients. I'm not very sure of the effectiveness of the analogy applied but I just wanted to tell you that those comics were very important to me. As I progressed through the beautiful works of Tony Wong's Alam Perwira and Dewata Raya, I then familiar myself with the arts and literature from other countries, Japan (Dragonball, Doraemon) and Europe (Asterix, Tintin). As fancy as I attempted for it to sound, those are just comics, which were immensly distracting and consumed a significant amount of my allowances plus some beggings to my dad.

Was it wasteful?

I often wonder whether I would have benefited more if I substituted Eiichiro Oda's One Piece with John Grisham's The Client? There's this myth that comics are a waste of time and money. Novels, however, are good for you. Or at least reading novels does portray some level of sophistication of yourself - that's what I think anyway.

I just finished The Da Vinci Code. It's just another book. I believe I response better to graphics. Information is better presented in colours and funny lines.

Isn't that a universal thing?

I thought people taught us to use more graphics in our presentations, i.e. Power Point stuffs. Use better colours and designs because people responded better to it. Don't make it dull by filling up the slide with Arial texts on a black background. Why? Because we won't find it interesting. Who would? Uninteresting people, maybe.

Just as they find novels interesting.

Hi

I got nothing.

I Miss Being a Kid

Intan: Haih, cepatnya dah sampai hari Isnin balik.
Bibik: Ya laa, kat sini rasanya hari-hari lalu memang cepat. Kalau kat negara bibik hari tu lalu rasanya lambat sangat.
Intan: Ye ke? Kat negara bibik sekarang tahun berapa?
Bibik: ....
NJB: Intan, sekarang kat Indonesia tahun 1996.
Intan: Oo, lambatnya.
NJB: ....
Intan: Ye ke ni?

My Kids Will Have Super Powers

There’s a number of ways on how I usually start writing an entry, i.e. personal experience, deep observations, retrospection, etc. Recent entries have been mostly of personal matters (well, basically this is my blog so of course it’s personal). Anyway, my most preferred approach is writing an entry off reading some interesting stuffs (my kind of interest of course) from TIME magazines or Reader’s Digests. And today’s entry is of that kind.

Sigh. What a long and unnecessary introduction. In fact, I could have just started it off like this:

There’re a few issues that highlight my interest from one of the recent issue of TIME magazine, i.e. fighting racism in Hong Kong, microfinancing in the US, slaves trade in Africa, Stein’s awesome view on today’s communication, etc. Nevertheless, this entry is aimed to two particular ones that really caught my attention: why genes aren’t destined to us and mm, well, climate change stuffs (gotta be my favourite topic).

Genes.

So, let’s start with genes – it contains the codes for our cells to produce proteins for our body to function – more or less an adequate definition. Darwin said that it takes a series of many generations for the genetic code to change – hence, our great great great great great great great great great great great great great will eventually 100% free from our blood disorders and other diseases.

However, it does not have to be that way anymore. There’s this thing called ‘epigenetic’, which is something that exists in our DNA, that can be, err, altered, I think, if I use the term correctly. Well, basically, the epigenetic thingy can be stimulated so that the following can be done: decrease obesity, reduce risk of short life span, switching off the unwanted diseases, etc. Hence, our children may not have to battle undesirable sickness, obesity and other unwanted stuffs - pretty cool. And owh, by the way, whatever we do, eat or breathe, can affect our future born generations. Both male and female and not necessarily during the pregnancy period – that’s right, even now as you’re reading this.

Come to think of it, pretty soon we can surely add on to our genes with things that we do want, i.e. good health, stronger athletic body, my handsomeness (I shall make it available for public use!), X-ray visions, etc.

Aisey (FCOL for Malaysians, I think. Or is it OMG?), I’m tired. Will continue on to the next issue later. Have a good week!

In Making Friends

Lately I've been spending a lot of time with my sister, the youngest of the siblings, Intan. She's in Standard 2 now - she's going to be 8 this April. Spending time means taking her to school and piano lessons (soon swimming classes), buying her school essentials (for this first few weeks anyway), helping her with her homeworks, go to 7-Eleven to buy Vico, etc.

So, one evening, while helping her with her Mathematics homework, and while she's writing something in her notebook, in a particularly different tone of voice (which meant that she was being a bit serious rather than making another silly joke), she told me something about school - that she doesn't like recesses.

Then a little bit of tears ran down her cheeks.

Hu-oh.

She told me that her close friends (or just one friend? I don't listen really well) are now prefects and they have to do their duties during recess period, which means Intan have to spend her recess time alone. So I ask her about her non-prefect classmates, particularly her deskmate - she said they have their own friends (or she just simply doesn't know. I'm probably just making up the reason because I still don't listen really well).

I was put in a position where I really have to be careful what should I tell her. I mean, making new friends wasn't that difficult for me before (I think). So far in my life, I was blessed with convenient situations or contexts, where making new friends wasn't too hard.

Wait.

It was difficult for me in some situations. Oh well, that is another story.

So I thought, "What would I do in those kind of situation?". Or maybe better, "What would a cool dude do in that kind of situation?". How about a girl instead? How do I know. Do guys make new friends easier than girls?

She didn't stop doing her homework, as in, writing stuffs in her notebook - some of the answers were wrong by the way. Maybe she couldn't focus right. She occasionally wiped off her small tears. It's not like she's really in depress about her small issue, based on the small amount of tears. I didn't say much though. It was a pretty dark-ish kind of conversation. You know, the type where it is slow and has a lot of pauses.

Was she looking for a solution from me or just simply expressing her feelings about this stuff? Well, my laptop was far from my reach - I bet I could google at least a list of possible solutions for this matter.

So, on top of my head, I told her, in a different tone of voice of course (I'm guessing it was the 'full of wisdom' kind of voice), that she shouldn't be bothered by it - I mean this recess issue. I continued, "As long we're nice to all the people around us, nice things will happen to us. Sooner or later good friends will come and spend time with you,". Something like that. Of course in the real script I had to use some Malay words. I don't speak English all the time with my sister.

Anyway, it was a pretty general advice. In a way I thought it wasn't useful enough. Was it sufficient? Should I told her just to try and ask her deskmate if she would want to spend the recess together? What if she rejected her?

Sigh.

I then told her about the wrong answers - for the homework I mean. She corrected it. Made a joke. She laughed. And we moved on.

I hope she wouldn't mind I'm writing her problems out in the public here heheh.

Conscience in Review

Stuff is a New Zealand's media website. It's the homepage for my Firefox browser. There's a column on the middle right of its front page which lists the most viewed articles published (I'm guessing it's updated daily).

Anyway.

The top 3 articles of the day are as follows:

1. Lindsay Lohan in sex tape.
2. Megan Fox stripped for Armani.

and at number 3: NZ powerless to help Haiti.

It's a little bit sad when the viewing priority shown by the public is towards girls stripping off their clothes, either on photograph or in video, above hundreds of thousands of people died of Mother Nature's anger.

Let's spend a few seconds to pray for them. Al-Fatihah.

...

Sadly, I myself, too, went to the first two articles first before I click on the story about Haiti. Sigh.

And oh, at number four: Hugh Hefner is down to one girlfriend. Tragic.

Imagine Me on the Cover

I just found that I misplaced my stack of underwear in my boxes left in Wellington. Consequently, since I arrived home in Bangi about a week ago, I survived with a couple of boxers - it has been difficult for me.

Hence, I went underwear shopping. Exciting.

You know, I'm completely not comfortable with underwear shopping. Men's underwear that is. I was wandering inside Parkson in Alamanda, and there's this section for men's underwear. I'm pretty sure all of you realize the packaging cover of the underwear boxes. Masculine men in their tight underwear.

Who are they targeting? I am very not attracted to the image on the boxes, unless they put a girl next to the guy - in underwear too of course.

While I was browsing the men's underwear section, going through boxes with illustration covers of different naked well-built men in underwear of different ranges: minis, short briefs, full briefs, bikinis, trunks, etc, I just can't help but think that while I was going through this torture, I'm getting gayer by the minute.

Seriously, what's with these ridiculous packaging covers?

Here's a sample:


I would love all future men's underwear to be produced in packaging such as follows:


Where can I find JBS underwear?

Pointless

I really got nothing. I can't think of anything of use to fill up a good entry. Maybe tomorrow. We'll see.

Happy New Year

Happy New Year.