MARCH PMS

Crooning on my STEREO: Splendido Splendente by RETTORE

Five things to BLOW UP on:-

1) I've got YELLOW TEETH .
Yes, it is due to the excessive tea drinking.

2) I do not have ample strength to clear my SMS(es) within a week.
There is not enough of memory space on my cranky phone.

3) My skin is morphing into a mouldy chocolate shade.
There's not enough of sun in this country.

4) Arsenal and Liverpool.
I'd rather have Crouch kick my ass than Christina.

5) F1 - Who on earth is Hamilton?!??!
Y'see, I had a lovelorn history with Mclaren. Until Hakkinen eloped. And Kimi stabbed us in the back.

I need RED BULL.

The Silk Road and Genghis Khan.

Crooning on my STEREO: Bellezza by MARLENE KUNTZ

While I was penning my 4th feature script, my brainstorming sessions revealed a serious defect in plot setting. There was a marvellous storyline, coupled with extraordinary characters and kickass sketch edits, but I sensed a certain void in empathising with the story's surroundings.

Hence I never completed that particular screenplay. And hence I never received my Oscar.

Like any other wannabe, I was ambitious. I chose to narrate my emo- fiction along the very long Silk Road and its surroundings. If you have absolutely no idea what this legendary route entails, have a good look at the map below:-



I know, it will take me decades to walk it. And probably a century to write a book on it.

Silk Road is an unexploited region that intrigues me. When self proclaimed travellers tell me that they've seen the world after flocking to Western Europe, I am then reminded of a certain inbred stupidity that resides in yuppies nowadays. Before I puke, I will stop bitching for now.

Central Asia is an entirely different world. Trust me.

The inhabitants of these regions are generally better looking. And since my boyfriend dated one of them, I have developed a compulsive complex aka. perception that everybody there is ultra-hot and attractive.

You begin your journey in Vietnam. Then you enter CHINA. My great motherland. Great Gran Daddy apparently had a castle and a pretty jet there until they were snatched away by the communists. Such idiots, I know. We even went searching for it when we went to Beijing last year.

Beijing does not do China justice. The Great Wall does. And the picture below also does.


I guess you would then have to venture beyond the Great Wall to see Greater China. Rent a camel that would take you cross-country. And do it like Che Guevara alla. Motorcycle Diaries.

Our trans-asian adventure should be dubbed: The Camel Diaries.

Along the way, one should pay homage to the great and mighty GENGHIS KHAN. The warrior dude who came and conquered. The hero who invaded extensive amount of lands with the same ease as Pac-Man. With this in mind, MONGOLIA is another must-see. (Although it might be easier to detour with the Trans-Siberian route. I will explain that in a separate post.)



My dad used to bull me with a story that we are the descendants of some barbaric tribe of Inner Mongolia. Probably explains why I have inherited such ape-hair genes.

So you keep riding on your camel until you reach Uzbekistan. If you are naively hoping for some sort of Borat adventure, then you can drop by in Kazakhstan. If you are penniless at this point and your camel has passed out, then I suggest that you halt your journey before you reach the borders of Afghanistan.

Recently I dug up remnants of my abandoned script. I thought to myself that if I am to complete this masterpiece once and for all, a lifetime journey to all the said places MUST be made within the next 3 years.

Not necessarily with a camel, though.

Success

Crooning on my STEREO: La Vita Non E' Un Film by ARTICOLO 31

A friend defined success by the following conditions:-

1) Achieve a 5 figure monthly salary by the time you are 25. (Not neccessarily in RM)
2) Work in a multinational company abroad.
3) Date/ Marry a trophy caucasian.
4) Own a vehicle in the league of a mini cooper.
5) Disowning your mothertongue in favour of the West.
6) Travelling to glamorous locations every month.
7) Having a legion of rich, decorative but dumb friends.

As you can tell, I have many dumb friends who try to impart their wisdom onto me. Que pena.

On the contrary I define success as the following:-

1) Being humble with a badass job that will toughen you for the future.
2) Coming home to a family who loves you in many strange ways.
3) Gathering the courage to leave an idyllic life behind in order to give your home country a second chance.
4) Being best buds with the postman.
5) Being able to speak Malay.
6) Not giving a damn about what other people do.

Last but not the least

7) Being IN LOVE.

Typically cheese, eh? I can assure you that you can love ANYTHING.

Bob Sinclar's LOVE GENERATION is a gem; a Perugian memorabilia which inspired me to hold my beer bottle up and propagate my love to everyone within sight. (of course, the word 'sleaze' should never apply).



But then again, you should never strive to love EVERYONE. There are multitudes of bastards and bitches out there whom you'd love to chuck them all into a ditch.

Problem is that there is no ditch big enough to accomodate their big asses.

Thus you could channel your lack of lovin' onto loving your Vincci pumps. Or your Doritos. Or your cocktails. Or your dog. Or your I- Pod. Or your brother. Or your secret longing to settle down in the Ukraine.

My point is: THERE ARE SO MANY STUFFS TO LOVE.

Unless you've just met with a deathly atrocity, don't you dare come wailing to me that you live an ardous life without love. The fact that you are whingeing nonsensically obviously shows that you carry more love onto yourself than the objects/people around you.

This, I call, SELF LOVE.

Believe it or not, love is infinite. I love my drinks. I love my CDs. I love the dysfunctional people around me. I love Fellini. I love my room. I love Saturdays. I love my tacky blonde highlights. I love foie gras. I love my Giovanni.

Despite all that PMS, I am actually a very successful 23 year old.

Sekian, terima kasih.

Eclipse

Crooning on my STEREO: Grace Kelly by MIKA



A bugger once told me that moon eclipses have the rather strange ability to instigate a turn in events. Shortly after, another medieval prone bugger proclaimed that the most recent eclipse on March 3rd is nothing but a bad omen.

Well, there was an earthquake.

And I shall abstain from whining on the unneccesary loss of lives.
After all, there are so many unnecessary people walking the Earth as we speak.

Speaking of the unnecessary. I had an unnecessary migraine at work which took me to the rather unpleasant company GP.

Historically, this doctor has refused my numerous pleas for a medical certificate (MC) to take the day off work.

I know. It's my ah-lian bleached hair. Hence she tends to accuse me of cry wolf.

The last time I was plagued by a flu symptom, she promptly dismissed my pain claims as a mere hangover. Thus she refused to produce an MC to release my ailing body from work.

As a result of her negligence, I was hospitalised the following day due to a chronic tonsilitis.

Such a bitch, right? I could have sued her pants off.
But because I am such a godforsaken saint, I sparingly watched the injustice pass me by.
Karma, you better note my samaritan deeds, dingbat.

Last week, I had a dumbass PMS migraine that had me ending up in her clinic once again.

Me: Hi Doc, I am not feeling well.

Doc: (shuffling through a pile of stale notes) Okay, how do you feel?

Me:(groping my head to exaggerate the adversity) A sharp pain across my skull.

Doc: (gives me the standard 'I-know- you've- been -drinking' look) Okay...

Me: And I haven't been drinking. I never drink. (Part- Lie)

Doc: (scribbles a couple of hyroglyphic mess onto a stale card) Okay...

Me: So?

Doc: When was the last time you had your period?

Me: Early last month.

Doc: Regular?

Me: As regular as fries. Possibly a little late this month cos a few asses have been pissing the crap out of me.

Doc: (Looks at me. Attentively. For once.) Are you PREGNANT?

Me: W H A T ?
(turns into a dead fish. followed by a sudden urge to puke.)

Doc: (puts on a well rehearsed look of concern. Followed by the million dollar question..)
When was the last time you had sex?

Me: Heh?

(Pauses. Awkward Silence. )

Me: Hah?

(Thinks)

Me: (Breaks into a moronic manic giggle.) Doc, It's IMPOSSIBLE.

NO WAY.

HAHAHAHAH

NO WAY

VAFUNNNNNNCULO.


And I scored my very first MC after that.

Generosity

Crooning on my STEREO: Tu Sei by VITTORIO

It takes a thousand good deeds and a thousand betrayals to realise that generosity is a lame virtue. Let me tell you why you ought to be selfish on a selective basis:

First of all, karma is a jealous whore. You could feed a beggar today. And joke about your neighbour tomorrow. Karma tends to retribute the latter with a rather mysterious adversity... or let's say, you are accused of stealing in a supermarket when, in actual fact, a roll of chewing gum had accidentaly fallen into your handbag.

The same applies to your secret desire to have Manyoo defeated tonight, but you find a hideous scratch on your car the next day.

Secondly, you could be one of those fortunate souls feeding an endless stream of leaches out of sheer good will. You think you are doing the world an enourmous good deed. Thus you keep feeding. It can go on for a year. Or a decade. And after all that hoolaballoo, you realise that YOU have not been fed.

The painful truth is, you will never be given pension broth by your leachy benefactors. Screw the saying that you should always help a friend in need. You should help a true soul in need.

And thirdly, you are too dumb to pinpont any of the above.

2007 has been a bitch because I am reaping the fruits of my generosity. As I witness those gleaming smiles unfold before my eyes, I ought to be happy.

Let's be honest, I am not. And thats because I allow myself to be emotionally gagged, beaten and milked by an ungrateful lot to get you where you are today. I wont use the term 'rape' because all these were done in my charitable consent.

I possess accurate intuitions. I chose to ignore warnings because I believed in second chances. And boy, what punishable mistakes I've made.

So many that I could compile them into an encyclopaedia. Such are the products of my stupidity.

Crap is, you have to confront many unpleasant truths as you age. It's like my delusion as to how France could have possibly defeated Spain in the World Cup.

WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

You cannot perform damage control in such situations. You can wail and cry until kingdom come but you can also choose to move on. To the rare few who are born with a good heart: only help those you love and not those whom you believe you can love. I think I've established my boundaries pretty blatantly.

Apart for those I love,

I AM GOING TO STOP FEEDING OTHER PEOPLE'S SUCCESS.

Thus I will start feeding my own.



For a change. :)

If you are getting the jitters from reading this particular post, well, then.. I've shot you point blank.