Don’t you hate it when your head is overflowing with inspiration and ideas that you immediately felt like writing, then you sit in front of your laptop impatiently waiting for it to start up, you start becoming anxious about forgetting what your going to post so you keep repeating it in your head over and over. Then, as soon as you logged in ……………………………………………………
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shit.
Me: There sure are a lot of hot Chinese girls around lately.
Friend: Dude, you do NOT want one as your girlfriend.
Me: Why?
Friend: They're short skirt wearing emotional wrecks.
Me: I like em' feisty.
Friend: .....................
Slipping in the shower
It was 5 years ago, not sure of the exact date but it was a school day. As any “ordinary” week day, I took an after-school bath. It was a good day and everything was going my way.
There I was, singing in the shower (barely audible). Without a care in the world. BAM!! I slipped in the shower and fell. Did you ever noticed that just when you realised that your gonna really and I mean REALLY fall, you frantically try to grab stuff to stop you from falling? Funny shit when your not on the receiving end. Anyways, the sliding doors to the shower was open and of course you guessed it, I fell back first(slightly above the hips) onto the door’s railing which is about 4 inches higher than the bathroom floor and a hit to the back of the head as I landed on the other side. I was stunned for a few minutes, pain probably had something to do with it. I got up a few minutes later, composed myself, finish showering, toweled down, walked with perfect form back straight as an arrow into my room, got dressed and lie down on my bed. The pain subsided about half an hour later and I was practically up and about as if nothing happened. I spent most of my time that day just imagining the world of pain I’m in for tomorrow.
As expected, I woke up with a very sore back but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be. Yeah, you guys are like, “ Oh please douchebag, saying you’re super human and blah blah blah”. Firstly, Yes! I’m in very good shape. Second, I still consider myself very lucky for not getting paralysed from that fall. Third, Pfftt…. I’m a guy, we’re hardcore like that.
Anyways, I felt like sharing this story with you guys because I recently read a post about someone falling in the shower. Just a short shout out to let her know, falling in the shower’s a bitch and get well soon.
P.S. This reminded of that one time I fell off a moving bus, but that’s a story for another time.
It seems that I’ve been trying too hard for too long, ignoring the simple truth, the fact, the definite certainty that I will, I must continue moving on to the next phase of semi-adult life; tertiary studies.
The sudden melancholy struck me when I had a chance meeting with a friend at a Tesco. Not that it was his fault. My friend was also my previous classmate during my Pre-University studies. He looked much, much, more manlier since we last met, with his curly locks and epic beard and mustache combo. We talked for a brief moment, the usual Q and A; How are you?, what are you up to?, heard anything from the others?, etc and we later said our farewells. That brief talk, sparked a sudden realisation that I haven’t even given any thought of my tertiary studies this month. Am I doing it subconsciously? Yeah right…
I know for a fact I’m purposely brushing off anything and everything regarding or even closely related to the subject. Hell, I even get irritated when it gets brought up. I’ve always thought of myself as a realist, I know that it’s a part of life that I have to go through. Common sense dictates I should get my shit together and take the initiative. However, here I am lazing off. Why am I reluctant? Am I afraid?
This bothered me, I was conflicted.
In the evening, I went down to the basement with my skateboard and just skated without a care in the world. A desperate attempt to free myself of my worries. It worked. For awhile.
P.S. Funny how it was the first time I’ve seen a friend in 2 months and it made me feel miserable.
Dad : Look, a BMW R1200 GS!
Me : Black... Pretty sweet.
Dad : Why is it that they just have to slow down and stop right next to us?
Me : Yeah, exactly.
Dad : And the fact that it's a red light has completely nothing to do with it.
Happy Mother’s Day.
Just after finishing eating dinner at a local satay stall.
Little brother : Bro...
Me : Wha..?
Little brother : *holds cucumber* I guess they don't like a "cu"
Me : *holds wooden skewer* I get your "point".
Little brother : *points at chilies* Tonight is "chili".
Me : *took a gulp of my drink* That pun was "blend".
Little brother : *holds spoon* Stop "steeling" my puns!
Me : *wipes mouth with tissue paper* I guess, I have to "tissue" new ones!
Little brother : *silenced*
ROUND ONE VICTORY!
While riding the car on the way home.
Me : Hey, no comeback? *points at an empty cage* Have I "caged" the beast?
Little brother : *points at a dumpster* That was "garbage".
Me : *pointed at wind chimes* I purposely left it "hanging".
Little brother : *points at a stop sign* "Stop" with the bad puns.
Me : *points at a high school* You''re the one getting "schooled".
Little brother : *points at a zebra crossing* You "crossed" the "line".
*Pulled over at a petrol station to fill up on gas.*
Me : Are you "gased"? I'm "pumped"!
Little brother : *silence*
ROUND TWO VICTORY!!
After reaching home. Whole family chilling in the living room.
Little brother : *holds a small box* I'm bringing a "surprise" attack!
Me : *points at Carrom board* I'm "board".
Little brother : *wears his cowboy hat* That is old "hat".
Me : *points at some Styrofoam under the aquarium* Ooohh, I'm "foaming" at the mouth...
Little brother : *holds calculator* That "summed" my victory!
Me : *grabs his cowboy hat and wore it* No, it's a "draw"....
Little brother : *thinking*
Me : Let's stop, *grabs television remote* I can't "remotely" think of any more.
My little brother suddenly ran into his room and came back quickly.
Little brother : No, it's not a draw it's.......*wears shades* homicide.....
Me : YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!
K.O. DEFEAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
On the road again : Bag packing with dad edition.
Part 1, The Bus Ride
Heading to the east coast, a trip to visit a relative that was supposed to happen a day before but due to uncontrollable factors it was moved a day and cut short.
Upon arriving at the Putra bus station, immediately I saw a guy wearing the same hat I had, same stitch, color and everything. I saw an onslaught of tourists about, some European, some oriental, and mostly locals. Saw a guy with make shift bag to hold his guitar, literally Sello taped canvas and old materials; cotton by the looks of it fixed upon each other looked rough with meshes of fabric sticking out of the sides and taped around rather clumsily, as if done in a hurry. The new age hipsters look out of place in the common folk setting, overly fashioned with bold expression of colors. The typical Chinese babes with they’re legs bared by their short, short, short hot pants accompanied by 5-inch high heels scampering off clumsily dragging luggage after their boyfriends who are absent mindfully surveying the station carrying more luggage. Students’ excited chatter can be heard followed by bellows of laughter and high pitched shrieks. The common locals including myself, just sat quietly and watched our surroundings.
Drinking over priced bottled drinks. I spotted a very pretty girl, petite as they come. She looked clumsy (in a cute way) whilst dragging her bright orange luggage. Naturally, I didn’t approach her, having account that my dad was sitting right next to me and I have very low self-esteem. After a few minutes we got in the designated bus, it was old and worn. I wasn’t surprised but I had hoped for a more “maintenanced” looking one. The bus had broken windows on the left side, it was patched up by adhesive and was painted black which was quite an eyesore, I could only think about how the unlucky passenger feel sitting to a big black blotch for a view (but then again there’s nothing to see, it’s night time). On the bright side, the seats were comfortable and instantly fought my dad for the window seat, again there was really nothing to see it was just primal instinct. Yoga pants wearing tourists were siting in the seats in front of me and judging from their accents, their probably European. It was 11:05pm finally, we departed.
I saw a taxi parked on the side of the road with the driver sleeping on top of the boot, his back leaned on the rear windscreen, his neck in a disastrous angle perched on the roof of his vehicle. So many questions arose in my mind followed by all very depressing answers. While lost in thought, the quite scenery of the empty streets of the night engulfed me. Deep sleep ensued.
P.S. Before the bus started moving, I suddenly thought of needing to go to the toilet and stood up just to find out it was a false alarm.
True to the title, I’m having difficulty just thinking about writing bollocks. Gotta get my thinking hat on, un momento.
ALRIGHT! It’s been quite awhile since the last post and I have a confession to make, I was bored the whole week but yet on the first non-boring day I get an urge to write. I just made my blog title an oxymoron. Fantastic.
However, saying I was bored for the whole week is kind of a stretch. I watched the live web-stream of Coachella on Youtube. Truthfully, I stumbled on it by accident but was pretty psyched that I did because The Black Keys was exceptionally ear-gasmic! Yet again, Coachella was nothing short of amazing live performances, hot chicks and random-headband-short shorts-fannypack-wearing-mustache-dude-that-reminded-me-of-that-weirdo-from-that-Red Hot Chilli Peppers-music video(Oh, America… How I love your weirdness.). I missed out on Two Door Cinema Club since 4:30PM in Mojave Stage is 7: something o'clock in freaking South-east Asia.
On an unrelated note, a few days ago my parents and I were just chillin’ watching television. Somehow we started having a conversation about how dependent I am of them. My mother looked at me and said, “You’re already 20 years old, at your age my brother was already cooking his own meals.”. To which I replied, “He was in America”. My mom gave me the “And?” look. Which then I added, “ Obviously if I were abroad, even I would learn how to cook because I would literally suffer a complete mental breakdown if I don’t have any authentic home-cook Malaysian cuisine for a day”. Then my father said, “That’s what I said to your grandmother”. Now I’m 100% sure I’m not adopted.
What a segue, right? Gotta thank my thinking hat for more random ramblings.
P.S. Midway through this post, I received a call from the apartment security that I forgot to turn off my car’s headlights. I hauled ass.
