RACONTEUR-ESQUE SCRIBBLINGS

If I were a human child, I'd probably be reading books meant for four year olds', or learning to tie my shoelaces and I'd most likely be carrying an empty backpack, impatiently waiting for my chance to go to pre-school. Well, something like that, anyway. But I am what I am, and with me being a blog, my life consists of waiting to be typed in, or waiting to be read., receiving happy stuff, frowning at half baked attempts at post, delighted when someone says something (except for the anonymous Hanyi spam).. sometimes, I inwardly groan as Terra types - she's not going to say that , is she? But like her, I try not to be judgmental. To a certain extent. Most of the time though, I'm just another site on the world wide web (though Terra tells me that it is unfashionable to call the internet the world wide web these days), occasionally being perused due to being hit by search words like pippi longstockings or turning 27. Don't ask. Terra may be able to explain that bet...

A lot of people probably don't really think before they speak, resulting in hurting the tender feelings of those around them, especially those who actually care for them, or perhaps saying something so incredibly silly that other people share whispered gossips about them, secretly laughing behind their backs. Small problem, I'd say. And then there are those who say incredibly stupid things to all and sundry by voicing their myopic concerns aloud which then get picked up by the newspapers. Monday was one of those days where the secretary general of cuepacs commented about their (or is it his?) concerns on the “increasing dominance” of female employees in the civil service, saying it would have “long-term implications on the progress and growth of the country.”  It's secretary-general Ahmad Shah Mohd Zin said on Monday that the trend now was that more women officers were being appointed to important decision-making posts. For example, almost three quarters ...

The normal Luna colour pencil box has about twelve colours. Kids call it red, while older people and the colour manufacturers probably call it vermillion. It was ages ago, in the state of Johor where there was jeep. Of course there were many jeeps, but the jeep we have in mind is one in particular. It was red, and although initially known as the big red jeep, it was later on renamed the bloody red jeep (BRJ). If this jeep could talk, it would have many stories to tell, some happy, some sad and others - just ridiculously silly, or so it thought. The BRJ was a victim of insane jealousy – not that it was pretty or anything of the sort. It was in fact too regular, or maybe it was the owner of the jeep that was a victim of jealousy - from some people who had no form of transport. It doesn’t really matter anymore, because the whole thing happened back in 1998. One funny incident that the BRJ may have experienced was looking on at three lost souls at the dirty beach side of a city th...

It was a surreal moment. I could feel myself suppressing laughter as he pushed the tip of my nose up to peer into my nostrils with the aid of the torchlight. I had to make a visit to the doctor again this afternoon due to what I can only refer to as side effects of the flu that attacked me over three weeks ago, not to mention the few social invitations I had to decline, including one for tea just this afternoon with two friends I haven't seen in awhile and probably will not see in a long time because they are both being relocated out of the country! The thing is, far from getting better in time as Leona Lewis emphasizes in her song that goes with the same title, the everlasting cough seems to have hurt my ribs to the point that tears freely poured out just the other day when I had run out of my supply of fisherman's friend and started having a fitful, uncontrollable coughing marathon (I've also been taking the cough medicine prescribed by the doctor and several traditio...

The radio played Baba O'reilly I started thinking "Oh my God, really?";      In the mp3 player I ignore it      Because it's too cool for keeping fit, Tantamount to munching on celery! Edit: For secretagentwoman... 1. I'm obsessed by certain things, Baba O'reilley walks in and out of my obsession list several times a year. It gets worse whenever I hear it on the radio 2. I've been also fretting that I had not written a limerick since 2004. Almost 6 years later, I do. 3. I never said I was totally sane ;) 

Disclaimer: Procrastination alert ahead... be careful before you tread ;) An old friend once remarked to me that her parents would love to have me as their kid as I voluntarily dressed in red or pink occasionally, as red was always the chosen colour for festivals like Chinese New Year. I recalled her comment with a small smile as I typed the text message wishing her a Happy Chinese New Year on Sunday, wondering how 'red' her new clothes for the new year would be. She almost always picks maroon in varying shades instead of the bright red most people usually wear. This year happens to be the year of the tiger, the animal that skulks quietly as it hunts for prey or the one that yawns lazily in the zoo. The picture above was taken in the tiger park at Tambun, near feeding time, which is probably why you can see them. Otherwise, they'd be probably hiding behind that fake contraption. A book I'm reading now, the QI Book of General Ignorance states that the country with th...

It was somewhere in the not so final vestiges of the month known as January, where days flew past you and weekends were spent bonding with cousins over activities that were either in the form of a movie in the cineplex despite the crowds or promises to play Risk. Somehow, the idea of the movie got the popular vote instead of Risk, and we somehow found ourselves seated in the cool cineplex watching a movie because we wanted to watch a movie, and not exactly the particular movie (although all of us agreed to the movie due to not having much choice) It's been awhile since I've seen a romantic comedy in the cineplex, well, not since the second Bridget Jones movie and I wonder if it is purely me being more cynical as I grow older or that I just wasn't that into the movie although I suppose I laughed at the 'inappropriate moments' with the rest of the crowd. The storyline was just normal... everything you thought would happen happened (maybe in varying degrees), the so-...

Sometimes you don't notice the obvious until someone points it out to you, especially when it's late at night and everything else is quiet around you. It's like having someone crack open an egg and explain the patterns on the shell where it's cracked, and point out how the yolk and white feels different to the touch... it's something you knew subconsciously deep down inside but never paid attention to, but you're sort of seeing it again, in a whole new light... maybe through their eyes. Or something like that... I was having a late night/early morning online conversation with a friend earlier today, and among other things we spoke about was how the human mind is wired, how it works... forever seeking for patterns in order for us to make a decision, or to find the answers to something. Well, he was doing most of the explanation and I was more of the 'listener', nodding in agreement in my little corner of the planet whilst he expounded his thoughts from ...

This is a little quiz I got via e-mail from my boss... Had some fun doing it and figured that I'd share it here for those who may be interested... You know, kind of exercise the brain with something other than the same old work/study related stuff....  If: 2 + 3 = 10 7 + 2 = 63 6 + 5 = 66 8 + 4 = 96 Then:  9 + 7 = ??? PS: I've enabled comment moderation for this post for at least the next 24 hours or until a new post surfaces as I suppose people who comment (if they choose to) will be giving answers (things lose their fun element when you know the actual answer beforehand) Edit: Turns out comment moderation is applied to all posts! Yikes! 

I kinda said I'd do this in the comments section of Saby's blog the other day, and since I remembered it in time, I figured why the hell not... after all, this particular T-shirt will be turning 10 in a few months time and used to be one of my favourite tees when I still used to use them... I don't fancy wearing tees these days, and even if I do, they're always the fitted kind and rarely come with smart and snappy sentences I wish I had thought of before they were printed on the said tee. Other than that, most of the T-shirts I own are usually tees from special events at work such as the official family day T-shirt (I have three so far), or even when we got the TS certification , etc... Talking about tees, I was incredibly pissed at someone at work yesterday (I don't really know whom I should be pissed at because I don't know who the culprit is) because this person took a tee that was meant for me (HR put the tees in a bag for each department and had a list ...

This is the second week running that I have been 'offline' at nights, and I blame it all on the flu, which has now ceased being the flu, but has extended into a coughing marathon. The right side of my ribcage hurts so much now... all I gotta do is just wait for the left side of the ribcage to hurt for another 3 days or so, and then it will be the end of this current bout of sickness. I suppose the fact that practically everyone at work being sick too hasn't helped much. Self-imposed exile to the confines of the house worked over the weekend, but by Monday evening, it all got worse. I'm currently on the 4th packet of Fisherman's Friend (I bought the last packet at the convenience store at the petrol station this morning, so you can imagine the number of people out there who may be carrying a packet or two in their pockets now) Ugh...

I suppose it must have been in the far away days of the Triassic period when I first found out that I had fallen in love with him . The reason was never really clear, but then, when it comes to these things, what is? All I remember is that he had a sort of intense, albeit comical hatred for almost everyone and everything around him, accusing them of being phony and all that. I did find that particularly endearing. Of course this was way after the Permian period of my life when all idealistic thoughts of the knight in shining armour had been thrown away and flushed into the nearest toilet. Alas, it went all unrequited due to the fact that he was only 16, and above all, a fictional character who went by the name Holden Caulfield, a fragment of the imagination of a man who was known as JD Salinger. I had found out last Friday that JD Salinger had died, not as surprising as me finding out that he had been alive all this while, although I do remember reading about him some time ago, whe...

Sapped up energy, Spinning tops, dancing dragons Oh flu, leave me be