WTF. Was doing some stuff on the computer the other day, heard a loud commotion. Ran out, and sitting there on that old crappy coffee table, like some space-age battleship that had just landed on some cornfield, was my new housemate's black PS3. Metal Gear Solid 4 was awesome.

Still no update on the camera. Got a new pair of shoes to replace my outgrown and outworn Adidas, though. Converse, black, low-cut, RM95.90.

Me against the gadgets

I've come out - briefly - from my blogging hiatus to vent my frustration.

The month of October 2008 should really be called the month of the fragile gadgets.

It all started when my new Sony Ericsson W200i (which hasn't even racked up two months of service, I should say) started having problems. After syncing with my computer one day, every file on the Memory Stick goes corrupt, necessitating a reformatting of the card. This became increasingly frequent and, thinking it was a problem with the Memory Stick, I upgraded to a 2GB card and bought a card reader to minimise the risk of file corruption while connecting and disconnecting from the computer. Then a new problem emerged - the phone started to have difficulties playing M4A audio files.

It would be able to play a number of files of this type in succession, then flag up a "playback failed" message. Switching to an MP3 file and back would cure the problem, but only for a short while before every file - M4A, MP3, even theme files - becomes unreadable and the phone has to be restarted. And then the cycle repeats itself. Doing a master reset on the phone has no effect whatsoever.

To rub salt in the wound, just last Monday, while trying to add pictures into the phone to bring to the school's print shop (I don't have a pen drive, see) both the phone's USB cable AND that stupid cheapo card reader I just bought cease to function properly. But the biggest, most important and possibly the most expensive failure came later that day.

While using my beloved Sony A200 camera, the 18-70mm lens had a tendency to get stuck while focussing. Perplexed, I switched to manual focus mode and rotated the focussing ring to try to free it up a bit, then flicked it back to auto focus. Without warning, the camera vibrated so violently that I had to switch it off to prevent anything else from breaking. Clearly, something was broken in the lens.

Annoyingly and disturbingly, three of the four products mentioned were Sony products.

So today, I brought the phone to the dealer who sold it to me to claim warranty. Idiotic salesman argued that AAC (which Sony Ericsson says the phone can support) and M4A files are two different formats and insisted the I had put in files of the wrong format. He is wrong - AAC is the encoding scheme for audio files, M4A is the file created from this scheme.

Whatever. I'll ask the Sony technicians when I bring the lens (which I seriously hope would be covered under warranty) to the service centre another day (it isn't open on weekends). Until then I'll continue to be worried - the month isn't over yet, and I've still got one working Sony product left (the PSP).

Fingers crossed.

P.S. Pictures of Limkokwing University of Creative Technology's kolam project at Pavilion Kuala Lumpur are now up on Facebook. Check them out.

UPDATE: Checked across forums and it turns out that the playback problem for M4A files is a known bug. Which is depressing - was hoping to take advantage from the higher sound quality of this format compared to MP3s. Ah, well, shit happens.

Walking Disaster

The rules of this tag are relatively simple:
1. Put whatever music player you're listening to (iPod, iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc.) into shuffle mode.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. Type out the song title, no matter how incredibly ridiculous it sounds.
4. Put any comments in brackets after the song title.

1. If someone says, "Is this okay?" You say?
Infernal Dance of King Kastchei from The Firebrid Suite (1919) - Igor Stravinsky
(My brain cannot imagine the look on that someone's face when I say that.)

2. How would you describe yourself?
Be At Home - Isamu Ohira
(Um, because I actually am at home?)

3. What do you like in a girl?
Hold On - KT Tunstall
(Yeah, sorry, I still haven't decided...)

4. How do you feel today?
Fake Tales of San Francisco - Arctic Monkeys
(Whud?)

5.What is your life's purpose?
The Devil in the Wishing Well - Five for Fighting
(Yes, my life's purpose is to be red, have horns, have a particular liking towards the numbers 666 and sit in a wishing well. Yeah.)

6. What is your motto?
Underclass Hero - Sum 41
(Uh huh.)

7. What do your friends think of you?
Jeux de Vagues from La Mer - Claude Debussy
(Which, according to my translator widget, is "Sets of Waves from the Sea". Riiight...)

8. What do you think of your parents?
One and Only - Timberland featuring Fall Out Boy
(Yes, you are. Love you.)

9. What do you think about very often?
Love Song - Sara Bareilles
(Okay, I don't do that. Honest.)

10. What is 2 + 2?
4 Minutes (feat. Justin Timberlake and Timbaland) - Madonna
(Partly correct, but what in the name of all that's holy is this song doing here?)

11. What do you think of your best friend?
What If - Coldplay
(What if... you were less of an opinionated bastard. You know who you are.)

12. What do you think of the person you like?
Me, You and My Medication - Boys Like Girls
(My medication, kononnya...)

13.What is your life story?
Auto Rock - Mogwai
(*acts confused*)

14. What do you want to be when you grow up?
The Angry Mob - Kaiser Chiefs
(We are the angry mob, we read the papers everyday, we like who we like, we hate who we hate, but we're all so easily swayed...)

15. What do you think of when you see the person you like?
Sweetness - Jimmy Eat World
(Oh, yes.)

16.What will you dance to at your wedding?
Kiss You Goodbye - The BAD
('the f*ck?)

17.What will they play at your funeral?
Everybody's Changing - Keane
(When we die, we change. From a house to a coffin.)

18.What is your hobby/interest?
The Carpal Tunnel of Love - Fall Out Boy
(Pfft.)

19.What is your biggest fear?
On Top of The World - Boys Like Girls
(Which is sorta true, actually - I'm a bit acrophobic.)

20.What is your biggest secret?
Pastorale from L'Arlésienne (Suite 2 No. 1) - Georges Bizet
(Er...)

21.What do you think of your friends
This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arm's Race - Fall Out Boy
(Yes, all my friends are engaged in an arms race...)

22. What will you post this as?
Walking Disaster - Sum 41

Well, that's about it. I'm tagging Philbert. Can't wait to see how he answers, with his MacBook full of Chopin.

I'm quite a big fan of the British motoring magazine, Top Gear. Sure, it's not the most detailed magazine of all, but its blend of stunning photography, great graphics and witty writing makes it excellent reading material (and of course, who can forget the great Jeremy Clarkson, who has his own column in it). So when I heard that someone was going to create a Malaysian version of it last year, I couldn't wait. Then that someone turned out to be Donald Cheah...

Before Top Gear Malaysia, Donald was the usual Malaysian motoring mag editor - average, and frankly very dull. But when such a big name came to his hands he obviously had to do something to stand out from the crowd. And he did.

As a result, TGM isn't so much a motoring mag as a men's mag with a few car reviews in it. Of course, quite a bit of what makes the original great is still in it, but the rest is a total letdown.

Let's start with the adverts. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue, but in TGM there's so many of them that it simply becomes annoying. Yes, the original also relies heavily on ads, but at least they were car ads. Flip through a copy of TGM, on the other hand, and all you see are watches... watches... more watches... men's clothing... men's fragrances... men's undies (!)... even more watches...

Then there's a problem with a section of Top Gear called - creatively enough - Top Gear. This is one of the more likable sections in the original as it is essentially a collection of really, really cool automobile-related merchandise (like watches, jackets, toys and the like), complete with great (and sometimes hilarious) descriptions. In the Malaysian edition, however, the entire collection is replaced with - you guessed it - men's stuff. Clothes, fragrances, phones, computers, belts, ties, wallets, briefcases, pens, cufflinks, rings, teddy bears (eh?) - you name it, they have it, the list goes on. Even more annoyingly though, almost all of them have absolutely zilch to do with cars. And just to make the section even less appealing, the descriptions look to have been written by a ten-year-old one afternoon.

Amazingly, you think, they've left out the watches. You let out a huge sigh of relief, only to turn a few pages and find out that Donald Duck really did have a watch fetish after all.

THERE'S AN ENTIRE SECTION DEVOTED TO WATCHES.

OH MY GOD.

YOU CAN'T BE BLOODY SERIOUS. YOU JUST CAN'T.

Yes, it's only a small section. Yes, I was overreacting. But Donald, this is a car magazine! Stop diluting it! You're only gonna make it worse! If I was in the market for a watch I'd have gotten a men's mag instead so please, STOP IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTT!!!

And then things get really bad. They loped-off the Lifers (i.e. long-termers) section. For those not familiar with the concept of long-term testing, it's basically about a group of the staff of the magazine (writers, photographers, editors, etc.) who are each given cars to live with for a long period of time (usually a year) and asked to write on their thoughts of their cars every month. It's a great concept, since it tests things (like reliability and customer service) that usually cannot be evaluated in a usual, short review. But obviously, the Malaysian team must have decided that, since local car companies would never loan cars for that long a time and that the Brits only test foreign cars in their own country's conditions, it doesn't deserve a place in the mag. And that is a great shame.

If you've seen all that and still want to read the Malaysian-made articles, do proceed with caution. Because there are problems there too.

I'll start with the pictures. Phtography in Malaysian car mags are usually well below par. TGM improves upon this, but it still lags horribly behind Getacar, which is easily the local magazine with the best photography.

Then there's Donald Cheah's writing. It's typical of most local scribes - boring. He does improve upon arriving at TGM, but it's still a bit anodyne.

That wouldn't be so bad if he had a team of much better writers to back him up. But the only other writer in his stable is Ben Tan and to be honest, he's even worse. Much, much worse. Reading his articles is a bit like watching a Windows computer start up.

It truly is page after page of eye-drying boredom.

And this leads to the crux of the problem with TGM. Most publications can get away with monotonous writing because the foreign magazines they're based on aren't really known for their bunch of entertaining writers. But Top Gear UK is, and this is where the local team falls the hardest.

And they still make mistakes that should never happen. I'd like to direct this one in particular to Ben Tan - how incredibly stupid can your Mathematics teacher be before he/she can make you think that a RM69,888 Suzuki Swift "easily undercuts" a RM65k Proton Waja?

Last but not least, there's parent company Astro's approach to censorship. Yes, Top Gear isn't the magazine out there with the cleanest language and sure, there's the obvious stuff to asterisk. But just to show how narrow-minded they are, turn to the last page. This is the Campaign for Real Racing Drivers section. On the original, there's a badge that says, "Sex: Breakfast of Champions" on the top left. They removed it from the Malaysian version. Enough said.

Learning to drive a car with a manual transmission is scary.

In an auto car, you only have to deal with the steering, brakes, accelerator and the world around you. Throw into the mix a clutch and five gears (including reverse) you have to row yourself, however, and it becomes a one-ton, 40 km/h juggling game. And while you're busy dealing with all that, you also have to put up with a particularly irritable instructor who speaks in a language you're not familiar with.

And you have to do all that without stalling (at the lights) or crashing (everywhere else).

The Petrol Dilemma.

Ah, yes. Petrol. What's a Malaysian blog without a post on the now-infamous price hike?

Some people have been whingeing about fuel prices since their cars started running on the stuff. They put all the blame on the government for letting it burn a massive black hole in their pockets. My advice to them is to just stop the nonsense and get on with it.

It's not like the price of fuel has sat on a finely-tuned balance in the previous years. If you would just cast your mind not too far back, they hiked the price by 30 sen barely two years ago and 10 sen twice the year before. You may think, sure, this is nothing compared to 80 sen the petrol station now asks extra for, but bear in mind that world oil prices increased twofold since 2006. Plus, the last time I checked, not a sen was added to the proce of petrol last year, which was an attempt by the government to "protect the people".

Also do remember that despite the exponential hike, we still enjoy one of the cheapest fuel prices in the region (I said "one of" because Brunei takes the cake - but more on that later). You only need to see how the Thais are still trying ever-so-cunningly to smuggle our petrol to see my point.

But no, said the detractors. They said we should only compare our fuel prices to countries that actually produce oil. So they put up a chart comparing petrol prices... to countries in the Middle East.


What, to use a more euphemistic phrase, on the face of the Earth, the Solar System, the Milky Way and the Universe combined were they thinking? The oil we make compared to any one of these countries is literally a drop in the South China Sea. Let's look at the evidence - even United Arab Emirates, the country with the most expensive petrol of the list, makes about 2,500,000 barrels a day. Take a guess, if you will, how much we make in comparison.

1,500,000? 1,000,000? No. 800,000 barrels a day. No wonder our petrol costs twice as much.

And besides, if we did make anywhere near that amount of oil we'd all be obscenely wealthy and drive chrome Ferraris and Burberry Maseratis. Would you really want to see stuff like that? Really?

Ah, but the more discerning of you would point me towards Brunei. Compared to Malaysia, they make a drop in the bucket - 200,000 barrels a day - yet they are still able to peg the price of petrol at RM1.22 a litre. The reason? Simple. Brunei's size and population is also a drop in the bucket compared to Malaysia.

Larger land + Higher population = More money spent on the people + More money spent on development + More money spent on corruption. The end.

And why is every father, mother and son making Petronas a scapegoat for everything? It's not like they're the petrol overlords and are able to change prices at will. Blaming them for the rise is like blaming Maybank for the decrease in value of the Ringgit.

But what really pisses me off was when people started putting the blame on Petronas' expenditures. There was an article in The Star that talks about the exact same thing and I agree with everything he/she said. Take, for instance, the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra. This drew a lot of ire from some members of the public because the members are mostly foreigners and that it was a waste of money. Right. And who do you want to see playing instead, a bunch of ill-advised locales who can't even differentiate between a violin and a cello?

People seem to be forgetting that the foreigners are only here to lead the way for Malaysian musicians to join the orchestra. Petronas should really be commended for reigniting interest in classical music, a genre that is fading fast in the face of sometimes awful modern music. And what about the Youth Orchestra, which I think I'm right in saying is all-Malaysian? Is letting young local talent show their skills to the world a waste of money?

And then there's the problem with their involvement in Formula One. You might think that it's unreasonable that we should be paying more for our petrol whilst they're out feeding some very thirsty race cars to go basically round and round a set path. But come on. State-owned it may be, but Petronas is still, to all intents and purposes, a profit-driven business. And what a better way to bring more customers to their fold than to sponsor a seriously competitive race team (BMW) in what is arguably the highest-profile motorsport championship in the world?

And don't go on blathering about the fact that there aren't any Malaysian drivers in the team. Petronas sponsors fuel, not drivers. Yes, BMW's presence in Malaysia has skyrocketed since the takeover of Sauber (in which Petronas was a team partner). And yes, BMW has given opportunities for local talent to enter the world of motorsports with Formula BMW and so on. But the choice of top-flight drivers is still BMW's. Which is a German company. Michael Schumacher or Alex Yoong? Exactly.

So while you can knock the Government for many different things, fuel prices aren't one of them. Yes, they are getting expensive, but they're not unbearable. So please, move on. There are much better things to focus on.

Like spending some of that subsidy money on the stupid bus system.

A few weeks back, I've started working again. Well, it's not actually a job. Basically, my dad has persuaded his friend to let me learn and do some stuff at his design studio for a couple of months before I head off to Lim Kok Wing on the 28th. The problem is, the studio is at the other end of the world - Subang.

That meant that due to the rise in fuel prices, my mother wouldn't send me all the way. For the best car-to-bus ratio, she decided that I'd be dropped off at the crossing point between Jalan Gasing and Jalan Universiti. But that still means I had to take two buses en route to the studio.

So just imagine what it was like for me, then still an amateur public transport rider, the first time I had to take a bus there. The first bus got me to the bus stop at Subang Perdana. Pretty uneventful. So I was thinking the second local bus would be the same. So I waited.

And waited...

The longer I waited, the more agonising it became. The sun was rising, heating the place like some oven that was permanently stuck at the maximum setting. But the bus, however late I was for "work", wouldn't come.

Honestly, more planes flew by than there were buses. So I got fed up and decided to walk.

And promptly got lost in the process.

In the end, tired and furiously late, I hauled a taxi. Which cheated me of my tenner.

Turns out I waited at a bus stop which the bus doesn't stop at, even though it was supposed to. And you know what annoyed me most of all? The "proper" bus stop turned out to be just a few feet away from where I was swearing profusely from.

Bus services are a nightmare in this part of the world. You are more likely to contract polio after being vaccinated than to get to your destination on time in a bus.

And the problem is actually not punctuality - because the buses always arrive at a set time. I've checked the tickets from previous journeys and it turns out that most of them arrive within 5 minutes of each other every morning.

No, no. What is the problem is the frequencies of the buses. A half-hour wait between buses is the norm on normal routes. And it's even worse on local shuttle routes, because there's only one bus per route. And they're so irregular - you can wait hours for the next bus only to find that the one after that is literally behind it.

What we need are more buses. And the worst thing is, instead of fixing something genuinely wrong with the public transport system, the government has decided to spend all its subsidy money on the one link in the rusty chain that isn't in dire need of repair - the rail transport.

That's the problem with the mentality of the truly abysmal ignoramuses at the helm of the government today. The Japanese would acknowledge a fault and mend it. The Singaporeans would acknowledge a fault and mend it. The Malaysians? They will deny the fault outright and will remain ignorant until a significant percentage of the population comes knocking on the doors with guns and swords. And even then they'll only do the easiest, most idiotproof work, then skive off and, oh, I dunno, insult Indians.

It's like a Titanic. You use all the effort in the world to try to manoeuvre the ship away from the iceberg, only to realise, slumped on the floor, that you're still heading towards the iceberg.

And then there's the problem with the bus drivers. Has anyone seen how arrogant and ignorant can they be? How can they possibly expect everyone, especially foreigners, to bring exact change everywhere they go? Show them anything other than the right amount and they'd act as if you'd just mentioned some unutterable two-syllable, four-lettered word. And nobody dares argue because they'd otherwise be stuffed into a hospital with blood coming out of every orifice.

And - this is what pisses me off - why the hell do they ever so often "forget" to turn on their electronic signboards? They're there for a reason, you know.



They may argue that there's no need to have the electronic signboard because you can read the plastic one below it. They are wrong. How can you expect someone like me, who's a bit dopey and has poor eyesight, to read some text printed on a panel the size of a postcard 500 million metres away? And no, I can't wait for the bus to come closer. Any nearer and the driver will pretend to not see me and speed off to oblivion.

And why, oh why do they stop for so long at the end of the route? It's okay is the route is quite a long one, where the drivers need to rest. But come on, the local shuttle route? Which is usually less than 10km? And it's not like they're actually resting - all they do is chat up the passengers and some bloke who comes and writes on paper. They should have this cast iron plate blocking the driver from the rest of the bus. Then watch them whine about exact change.

And last but not least, who the fuck decided to put up the route map of a bus that DOESN'T STOP THERE?

All this rambling brings us down to a question. Why can't we - the people who made the world's longest heated box made of chicken wire that can also be used to cook fish, remember - make a half-decent public transport system? In Japan - where people can't be bothered to actually cook their fish - the average delay of a train is six seconds. For them, a late train is anything over a minute late, by which time people get to ride the train for free. And if they're five minutes late, they get a verbal apology from the conductor and a delay certificate to explain to their employees why they were late for their morning exercise.

Now I will admit that it was a pretty exaggerated example. But even if we were able to do 0.005% of what the Japanese did, we'd end up with a system miles away from what the cocks at RapidKL have done.

So there we are. I spent all of my time trying to get everyone to stop blaming the government about the fuel prices. Only to be pissed off by the government like everyone else.

Damnit.

This is what I had to deal with last week. A tectonic-plate-slow Streamyx and a kaput WiFi. It's infuriating, to be honest, to try to use a computer without any sort of Internet connection whatsoever. I've lost count on the number of time I've forgotten this fact and opened Safari (Apple's standard Internet browser) only to be slapped in the face with the message "Safari can't open the page...blah blah blah". A call to TM had them sort out (i.e. make marginally less slow) the connection speed, but trying to massage the white Netgear wireless router to actually communicate with the Mac proved more time consuming.

Lots of prodding and browsing the manual diagnosed the problem - the router was inadvertently reset, deleting all the information needed to connect to the Internet. On Netgear routers, this information would have to be put back before wireless connectivity would be re-enabled. A few minutes of typing in the ISP details and putting up with a dependable-if-predictably-slow 5-year-old Dell and wireless internet was for everyone in the house to enjoy. I was understandably proud, to say the least. Bill Gates, eat your heart out.

Now, if you know me you might think I'm only interested in cars. Well, you're damn right. And obviously, being a car addict and just turned 17 I wanted to get a driving license. So two weeks ago I went for the Driver's Education Curriculum class in Nilai. This is a mandatory 5-hour course that is basically a prep for the theory exam. As expected, it covers everything from road signs to accident factors to demerit points. What I didn't expect, however, was the lecturer who goes by the name of Victor. While effective at teaching, he was an oddball, a Mr Thong of sorts. I mean, he started the class by introducing not only himself, but the rest of his family as well. And being from a race that originated from the land of Bollywood, his verbal and body language was nothing if not dramatic. He is, in short, a bit scary. If you see him as your lecturer, run.

A week after that decidedly haunting experience, I decided to put everything Victor taught me to the test. Literally. Because I had to go to Kinrara to sit for the theory exam. An objective paper (well, not exactly "paper", since the whole thing is computerised), it consisted of 50 questions divided into three parts. The first 15 questions are all about road signs, while the next 25 questions tested driving skills and ethics. The final 10 questions, on the other hand, ask about stress and the highway code, including driving licenses and demerit points. The best thing is, every one of those questions is a random selection from 500 preset questions. And they're all in a book that would be given to you. Together with all the answers.

Simple, you may think. I thought so too. Until a slight distraction in the form of my 10-year-old cousin staying overnight meant that even after all my efforts, I still couldn't finish studying for the test the night before. Under-prepared is an understatement.

So I arrived at Kinrara at about 8:30 (after hastily studying on the way there), expecting the whole issue to be done rather quickly. It turned out not to be.

You may have waited in a government building before. You might even think you feel my pain. But I'm afraid not. Yes, waiting in the government building is always an excruciatingly long process, but waiting in a government building for an exam? Frankly, I'd rather have done the exam in the Samad toilet. And there was no use to study - for me, the more I try to study at school on exam day, the more I forget. To make matters worse, I didn't carry my PSP with me. And I got a really bad cold. Enough said.

So, bored, irritated, unprepared and suffering from an increasingly leaky nose, I was finally let into the exam room at 10:30, worried that I'd actually flunk it.

And promptly came out again.

Soon afterwards, the blokes at the desk produced the results slip (very SPM-ish, no?). It read like this:

SEKSYEN A: 13/15

SEKSYEN B: 25/25

SEKSYEN C: 10/10

JUMLAH MARKAH: 48/50

MARKAH LULUS 42/50 

Best of all though, was the time taken: 10 minutes 23 seconds. Sticking to the motoring theme of this post, that means that in around the time it takes for Jeremy Clarkson to complete a full lap around the Nürburgring Nordschleife in a Jaguar S-Type (diesel, granted), I did 50 questions. That's even faster than EST.

Yes, I didn't get full score, but hell, I was happy.

With the result in the bag, I took the next step towards obtaining a license, which was to attend a workshop. Another mandatory course, it is split into two sessions - a three-hour theory (indoor) session and a three-hour practical (outdoor) one. The first session is similar to the first class I attended, but focused more on driving. But of course, being the JPJ, we had to wait. Again. This time though, I learnt my lesson and carried my PSP with me, so it wasn't so bad.

After quite a while they finally sent out an lecturer. And of course, being in the JPJ, he was Malay. What was funny, though, was the jacket he was wearing. It was black, with a JPJ insignia on one side. And on the other (like as if they'd sponsor them) was a cheap Nike iron-on badge. I had to twist my face to stop laughing it off.

Fake badges aside though, he was at least relatively funny, and much better than Victor. Even going so far as to make fun of his name, Hamdan. Which, in Cantonese is - of course - salted egg.

After this, it was time for the practical. No, I haven't been able to drive a car yet. At least legally. Anyway, this session was just to show the various parts of the engine bay, as well as to demonstrate changing tyres, using an actual Kancil as a volunteer. However, the bloke who taught us, Zul, forbid us blokes from participating in the session and relegated us to the seats instead, because it would be "too easy for the guys". So he let the girls participate.

Now that would be fine if they were actually smart. Instead, we had to sit there in frustration as the they tried to differentiate between a radiator and an oil dipstick (bearing in mind this was all taught just a few hours ago during theory). At least we got to choose which girl to embarrass.

Still, it all went well. After yet more waiting, we were let home. Now that I'm waiting for my L license, the next stage is, of course, driving. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be using the internet. Wireless broadband is fantastic, isn't it?

Tagged again?

I've recently been tagged by Philbert. It's called "Three Things". I don't think I need to do an introduction - the title itself says it all.

Three things that scare me.
i) That bloke who taught me the Driver's Education Curriculum. His many parrot-esque "MARI!!!"s are enough to haunt you for endless nights. Nice guy, though. Just...odd.
ii) Cockroaches
iii) That Astro woman. Her voice borders on psychosis-inducing.

Three people who make me laugh.
i) Philbert. One part insensitive berk, two parts pervert, ten parts brilliance.
ii) Top Gear. I know, but putting Clarkson, Hammond and May individually on the list would've filled it up. Besides, they're at their funniest when they're with each other.
iii) Lee Mack. Top-shelf comedian. Go search YouTube.

Three things I love.
i) Cars.
ii) Photography (Yes, I finally have my DSLR!).
iii) My Mac. Yes, my answers are the same as Philbert's. Shut up.

Three things I hate.
i) Horrible advertisements.
ii) Broken language on signs.
iii) That Astro woman.

Three things I don't understand.
i) Additional Mathematics.
ii) Hokkien dramas.
iii) Girls.

Three things currently on my desk.
i) My Mac mini.
ii) My PSP.
iii) My Sony α200.

Three things I'm doing right now.
i) Chatting with Philbert.
ii) Wondering why BMW always has such pretty receptionists at their functions.
iii) Studying for the theory driving test.

Three things I want to do before I die.
i) Go to London to be on the set of Top Gear.
ii) Have a really nice car. Preferably an Aston Martin.
iii) Be a designer.

Three things I can do.
i) Draw.
ii) Take pictures.
iii) Play a piano (vaguely).

Three things I can't do.
i) Play a violin.
ii) Do ballet.
iii) Get 11A's in SPM.

Three things I think you should listen to.
i) Rachmaninov's Prelude in C-Sharp Minor.
ii) Dr. Gregory House.
iii) Your parents.

Three things you should never listen to.
i) Me.
ii) The Government. I second Philbert on this.
iii) That Astro woman.

Three things I’d like to learn.
i) Play a piano. Properly.
ii) Driving (I will be, soon).
iii) Italian.

Three favourite food.
i) Beef noodles.
ii) Grilled Chicken Foldover.
iii) Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun.

Beverages I drink regularly.
i) Water.
ii) Kickapoo.
iii) Yogurt drink.

Three shows I watched as a kid.
i) Barney. Can't ignore a purple T-rex that is actually nice with kids.
ii) Teletubbies. C'mon, they're cute.
iii) Power Rangers. Okay, now I'm really embarassed.

Three people I’m tagging.
i) Priya.
ii) Suwarna.
iii) My sister.

National Disgrace

The other day I went to the Selangor Registration Department to collect my sister's IC. It was a painless process - take a number, grab the card, leave. Ten minutes at the most.

But it was during those ten minutes that I saw something that drove me up the wall. A sign.

It wasn't actually a sign, just a piece of paper people would usually print a short message on so as to avoid spending a few hundred ringgit on a proper signboard. That's fine. But what really raised my blood level was not the message it conveyed, the gaudy-coloured paper or even the cheap-looking speech bubble shape of the sign. It was how the message was written. I don't remember what it was about, but it started off - bearing in mind we are talking about a message on a sign of a government building in a major city - with this:

"Sekejap aje................."

And then I saw another one at the photo booth reading something like this:

"Semasa ambil gambar boleh duduk diam tak??? Bolehhhh.......hhhhhhhhhh........."

Now, before a Malay starts pointing fingers at me for being racist, I would like to make it clear that I'm fine with people talking like that in everyday life. I even have friends that text to me that way. I may not like that kind of lingo, but if people want to speak the way they want to speak, God has not yet created a creature or force that can stop them.

But this is ridiculous. Putting signs like that in a Malaysian government building is akin to stepping into the Pentagon to find hip-hop language in their signs.

Is this the image we want to portray? That Malay is our national language and even government officials can't use it properly?

We may be way past the age of ties, jackets, tweed hats and meticulously perfect Queen's English, but that doesn't mean we should speak like men in caves in 1325 B.C. At least their language wasn't broken.

Travelling through time

Chili's for birthday.

Yeah, chocolate-flavoured snot. Thanks, Pei Hau.

Anyway, last Saturday was my birthday. Now, I didn't want to do anything fancy this year, but then Priya called, saying she wanted an outing. Have to please a friend, no?

So fast forward a few days later, me sitting in a Starbucks outlet at the Gardens at five in the evening...


...with Philbert and his gorgeous new MacBook. I feel outdated already.




Now, being anal and suffering from a severe form of OCD, Philbert is very, very protective about his 'Book. Nevertheless I managed to have a go.


Soon, Starbucks turned into an impromptu studio. I whipped out my tripod and we started shooting, experimenting various techniques. Admittedly, however, they were mostly rubbish.



Eventually we got bored of taking pictures. So we went back to the Boulevard. And took some more pictures.




While I was busy taking pictures, Philbert caught a glimpse of Priya. So we decided to surprise her with our camera flashes. She was clearly not happy.



After a bit of a telling off, we were ushered into Chili's to meet up with the rest - Asmath, Beth, Brigette, Pei Hau, Choo Xiang, Suwarna, Amelia, Michelle and Ayesha.





The food was fantastic. Nachos for the appetiser, chicken quesadilla for the main course...

... and guess what we had for dessert.


Yup. A giganormous piece of Secret Recipe chocolatey goodness, brought out by some waiters singing "Happy Birthday". Which turned out to be kinda funny, because minutes later they carried another birthday cake to a girl sitting on the opposite table. Okay...



Needless to say, not a lot of the cake ended up in my mouth. Ayesha smothered my face with chocolate and, just as I've washed my face and was about to tuck in, Pei Hau did the inevitable.

Oh, and if you were looking for any photos of that particular moment, tough luck. Camera was with me. Sorry.

Cakeface shenanigans aside, the rest of the evening turned out to be rather enjoyable. Chit-chatting, gossiping and much joking. Most of them aimed at Priya.




After a while the bill came. And what a bill it was. We somehow managed to sink ourselves into a RM250 hole. Luckily, there were eleven of us (Choo Xiang left early), so it was considerably easier to swallow.

Just before we left, a woman came up to us. Uh oh. We thought we were in trouble. That we've made so much noise that we were going to be given the single biggest telling off in the history of mankind.

And you know what she said?

"This is what Malaysia should be. I love watching you guys. Remember that, after 20 years, we are still Malaysians."

What a nice lady.

P.S. Thanks Priya. Without you I wouldn't have that much fun on my birthday.

Smile!

Yes, I finally broke down and replaced my old, broken Casio camera. And given that I wanted to take up photography as a hobby and since everyone left, right and centre seems to be going for a DSLR, I might as well get one myself.

But while everyone else has bought either a Canon or a Nikon, I went for the left field choice. That camera I'm holding in that picture above is a Sony α200.

Why? Value for money. A Canon EOS 400D with an 18-55mm lens currently goes at around RM2,499 (Philbert got his for somewhere in the region of RM2,800). The Sony - even with a slightly better-specced lens - is yours for RM1,999. Toss another 500 quid at your dealer and you can even get an additional telephoto lens.

So, two lenses for the price of one. Handy, eh?

Thank God it's...um...Monday?

So this is it. The white-knuckled, heart-in-mouth ride through Form Five has finally (officially) come to the end.

No doubt many of the Form Fivers have been waiting in anticipation for the simultaneous release (well, we got ours a bit late, but that's beside the point) of the slips of paper that would determine the future of every 17- and 18-year-old in the country.

Me? I didn't give two grains of rice about it. Somehow I just didn't feel the slightest bit anxious about taking my SPM results. Then again, I'm not getting something like a MacBook if I got straight A's.

Then came the 12th of March. Suddenly I was in the shoes of everyone else. Thoughts were swarming around my head about failing my Additional Mathematics yet again and getting screwed over and over by every single relative and teacher I've ever known. But it was too late to do anything about it, because Pn. Chang was already sitting there with the results slips. I therefore gulped, took a deep breath and went straight to her.

Not a 9G in sight. Good. First goal checked.

A 3B in Malay. Phew, thank goodness i didn't flunk this. I thought I'd do much better than last time since I actually finished the essay, but this was way beyond my expectations.

A 1A in English. As expected. Plus a GCE O-Level 1A. Added bonus.

A 3B in Moral. hated the subject in the first place, so couldn't be arsed.

A 4B in...wait a minute, a B in History? How the fuck did I pull that out of the bag? Not when I skipped questions and bullshitted the rest. No fucking way.

From there on forth it just got better.

A 3B in Mathematics. Could've done better, but I still can't complain.

A 3B in English Literature. Brilliant. Very, very pleased.

A 1A in Physics. Finally. A result I've waited ages to get.

3B's for Chemistry and Biology. In this company, deeply average. But there's nothing wrong with it.

And then came the show-stopper.

A 4B for Additional Mathematics.

I almost fainted. Then I compared my grade with others, and I almost cried.

But as always, there's something to spoil the party. I arrived at school expecting a 1A in EST to be in the bag. I got a 2A.

What. The. Fuck.

Alright, I'm being melodramatic. But come on, that paper was shit easy, so getting something slightly off-target when everything else was so gloriously above my expectations is a pretty big anti-climax.

That aside though, I'm extremely happy with my results. And this wouldn't have been possible without the help of everyone who guided me for the past two years. So I would like to thank my teachers - whether school or tuition - and my parents who had the patience to sit through my absolutely lackadaisical attitude towards studying and got to me and woke me up when I needed it the most.

Oh, and one more thing. Those who aren't happy with their results, cheer up. It's not the end of the world. And even if it is, there's always next year.

Who's in Padang Rengas?

To be frank, I'm not following the elections as religiously as some others. However, there is one seat I'm interested in. No, it's not Seputeh, where I live (yeah, I know, Teresa Kok won, whopee). Nor is it Bukit Gasing, where my parents vote.

It's Padang Rengas. Home of that racist, blind, deaf, fat, shit-mouthed bufoon, Nazri Aziz. Who the fuck decided to vote for him in the first place?

I don't care if the Opposition sweeps the whole of Malaysia. If Alias Zenon (cool name, by the way) fails to topple over that bald pig-face, that's it. I'm migrating I've lost hope in Malaysia.

EDIT: Alas, the incumbent remains. Enjoy your rights to scream "bodoh" in the Parliament while you still can, Nazi Aziz. There's always next time.

Oh.

Now that I finally know what's a memetag, I feel so dumb. Sorry Amelia, should've done it ages ago. Ah well, better late than never.

Five things I found in my bag (if I had one)
1) Wallet. Who doesn't?
2) PSP. Boredom relief.
3) Cheap-ass rudimentary mobile phone.
4) Work pass.
5) Camera (if and when I get one)

Five things I found in my wallet
1) Money, obviously. Not a lot, though.
2) ATM card, now that I work.
3) MyKad. If I ever got into trouble, this will stop me from getting into even bigger trouble.
4) Machines membership card. Not that I've bought anything there since I got my Mac.
5) Student card. For movie ticket discounts (I'm still 17, you know).

Five favourite things in my room
1) Mac. Has to take the number one spot.
2) Creative speakers. Use them for the computer and the PSP.
3) Sketchpad. Explanatory if you know me.
4) Stationary. Goes with the sketchpad.
5) Bed. Ahh...

Five things I've always wanted to do
1) Drive a car. Bet you didn't expect that, eh? Eh?
2) Make it as a designer.
3) Be on the set of Top Gear.
4) Have a really, really nice house. And a really, really nice car.
5) Visit Italy. Clichéd, I know.

Five things I'm currently into
1) Top Gear. Yeah, yeah, season's over and all, but what the hell.
2) House (the TV series, not the music genre)
3) Computer graphics. That's why I semi-regularly change the layout of this blog.
4) Photography (I so need that SLR)
5) Cars. Sorry, had to.

Five people I'm gonna tag
1) Philbert
2) Pei Hau
3) Priya (it's time you started blogging again)
4) My sister
5) Um...

That's all, I guess.

Long overdue update.

I know, I know, I've sorta abandoned blogging for a while. Work, fatigue and general lack of topics meant that this blog has been deprived of some TLC. But never mind, I'm here to show people that I am NOT dead or consumed by cashiering, and since there's really nothing else to blog about, might as well post something about work.

First things first, the working hours. And I'll be honest this time round - it sucks (no, Pei Hau, I haven't been forced to work overtime). Unlike Philbert, who has an office job and can therefore leave his workplace at six-ish, I'm stuck in a shopping mall. And unless you've never been, seen, or heard of a shopping mall, you'd know that it is customary for a shopping mall to be open by ten in the morning and to remain open until it is ten at night. But that's not all. You see, only the store closes at ten at night. The counter closes when it has dealt with all the customers. If you're stuck at a particularly busy section, like the Gents, you'll be lucky to see off the last customer by 10:15.

Of course, by that time you'd expect me to just hand in the money to my boss and leave, right? Wrong. For some reason, we are forced to count our money before handing it in. And as you've probably known, I'm not very good at maths. Fortunately, there will be other people on hand to assist you if necessary, so you'd usually be done counting no later than 10:35. Then the chief cashiers would count the money (again) and compare the total against the readings from your point-of-sale (POS) machine. You can choose to leave right after you've finished counting, or you can stay back and learn whether you've balanced or made an error. If you're willing to let yourself be hurled abuse about the errors you made while cashiering you'll only be able to return home at 10.45.

And by the way, on selected days (the period before Chinese New Year, for example), the store will extend business hours until 11:00 p.m. Go figure.

Then you get to the cashiering itself. Which, depending on where you go, varies from being overly boring to excessively tiring. The latter, especially, makes you more susceptible to errors (I've had to void nine sales once because I was so tired). But most of the people I work with are very kind and are willing to help me out of any difficult spot I manage to steer into. Never thought I'd say this but it actually makes cashiering almost enjoyable.

The pay, on the other hand, isn't. Philbert says he's being paid peanuts because his nine-to-five job pays him just RM800, but I say bollocks - my ten-to-ten (sometimes eleven) job pays me a measly RM600. As though that was bad enough, I have to pay some of it to the EPF. Thankfully, my pay also includes commission for the amount of sales. Unfortunately, though, I get just a piffling 60 sen for every RM1,000. Then again, I've seen people raking in over RM60k worth of sales a day (though I'm struggling to get past 25 grand). Also, if I buy something from Parkson (any Parkson will do, even Pavillion), 20% of the sale will be refunded back to me at the end of the month. It's a nice incentive for employees, although admittedly there is a limit of RM60 per month.

Like I said earlier, my colleagues are mostly very nice people (with the exception of that dastardly Kak Nora, who picks on the new cashiers - she put me in the almost deserted ground floor for three consecutive days!). Many thanks especially to Madam Yong, for teaching me the many intricacies of cashiering.

To sum it up, cashiering at Parkson OUG is a mixed bag. On one hand it can be very tiring and I'm not exactly well paid. On the other, the people there are some of the nicest people you'll ever meet. Plus, nothing comes close to the experience of meeting and dealing with several different people. And you know what? I actually like it.

Oh, and in case you didn't realise, I haven't got the time to put up CNY decorations on this blog. So (yes, I'm late) I'd like to make it up by wishing everyone a Happy Chinese New Year.

Have you seen that stupid new Osim ad? The one with that idiotic chair that swings from side to side (like your rotating armchair, only that this is restricted to small movements). With that annoying woman singing some shit about hai hai and bai bai.

I was stationed at a counter facing the Osim booth yesterday and they played it for fifty times before the fucking sales assistant shut the damn thing off.

The blog works again. Tee hee.

Come one, come all! The blog doesn't redirect anymore! Wheee!

Okay, I have to stop.

Anyway, today's a big day for me today. I've got a job.

Yes, I'm now a cashier at Parksons at Plaza OUG. It's a small job, really - work four days a week in a small-ish departmental store and get paid RM600 per month (I think that's what she said - MUST ASK TOMORROW).

However, there's one small problem - the working hours. I have to get there by 9:30 a.m. and can only get home at 10.30 p.m. And even then, that's if I'm able to count money quickly enough.

All in all though, it's my first job and would probably be a great experience. And like my mum said, if it doesn't kill me (unlikely, I must admit), it'll make me stronger.

So if anyone wants to come visit me, please do.

Although if you are planning to buy things and find me sitting at the counter, you should probably abandon ship.