Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Blue Heu To Boo Who.

For a guy who updates his blog as often as a hobo changes his underwear and suddenly gets bothered enough into reviewing a movie, the movie has got to be something.


I'm talking about,

and if more specifically, in glorious 3D.

Little did I expect, the moment I put those funky glasses on, I left earth. I swore the goddamn seat propelled itself out of the cosmos, and into the jaw-melting world of Pandora.

I was literally silent and speechless throughout the whole 3 good hours. Even if it's something you should really do in a movie in order to not have popcorn bits (and a possible thick, phlegm) stuck in your hair. But seriously, it has gotta be the tastiest visual candy I have ever t-eye-sted (GET IT ?) .

And as some of you might know, I like monsters with the infinite possibilities that applies into it. And basically anything that revolves around it, be it the habitat or how it sounds. I guess, this little loose screw of mine, increased my appreciation towards the movie a hell lot more.

Avatar isn't like any other movie. Hell, I don't think it's even a movie as it is more into being the most spectacular jungle-trekking/sight-seeing experience ever. You will, literally reach out your hand to grab that floating seed of Eywa, and feel stupid for just grabbing a fistful of air. YOU WILL.You ain't paying for a ticket to watch a movie, you're paying to get yourself lost in the wilderness of visual ridiculousness.

And I mean ridiculous. Ridiculously, f-in real. And how real ? . How about me being so goddamned sure that they are ALL excellently animated, (or in other words, Mat Confirm) only to realize later with much wtf, that there are real, human actors in it. That's right. The movie questioned my view of reality. You just might think, for a brief second of spontaneous thought, that there just might be actual blue dudes living out there somewhere.

Oh shit, wait -

Neh. Papa Smurf in the first picture turned blue for rubbing Colloidal Silver on his face. And the second, are just a bunch of guys that are watching you right now from the nearest window.

ANYWAYS, go watch it. In 3D. It's worth that little extra 5 +- bucks. Don't hope so much on a brainsquirming storyline.Be in for the CGI epicness. Or even if it's not on that, the dude, James Cameron took 14 years, and spent a total of 400+ million to make this. Show the dude some credit for spending a total length of a childhood, and the amount of money we're not even gonna get in a lifetime to spawn this masterpiece.

Put A Stop On The Top Of That Pot.

This might not make any of your last few seconds any more meaningful. But those who knows, knows why I just gotta. I just gotta :)

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Think, To Blink, Or To Sink In Pink Ink ?

You know what should I be seeing if my turn my head to the right at the moment ? . The mighty bumps of Gunung Baling, with fog hangin' round the summit. Instead, if I nudge my head to the right, I'll get my face blown with a stand-fan. Not that it isn't nice, but the point is, I should be in Baling, my kampung, right now. With the sweetest smell of the cekodok pisang's getting fried downstairs, filling the air. With the thickest Utara slangs being muttered so casually in the background, while us, town-tongues, would bust a taste bud trying to pronounce this sentence ;

"Hambuih hangpa semuo ni, awat loq laq sangat ni. Ketegaq nak mampuih nohh"

Or even a simple,

"Aiyaq ni tawaq hebiaq, macam teloq ghebuih" .

We were so close in reliving all that, but right after the Sungai Buloh toll, my dad's ride suddenly went all swervy like a sidewinder. A sidewinder's cool. But a sidewinding jeep that's on a highway of speeding lorries (Goddamn, they were fast, one even tried slicing to the next lane) is NOT. Not to mention the shaky steering wheel too. So, we decided to play safe and make a big U-turn, back to our house. Not obliged to shout "WE'RE BACK" in a correct vibe , we just crashed on the couches and mourn on the loss of a should've been a perfectly, well-timed getaway.

All of this mechanical mess would not have happened IF IT WEREN'T FOR THE BLOODY MECHANIC BASTARDS. I would not just assume and point fingers at the nearest guy in an oil-stained yellow jumpsuit. But who wouldn't done the same, if their dad paid 2000 f-in bucks, and have the car to be worse after it's sent for service, instead of the other way around ? . One problem, to the next. From an allignment problem, to a leaking gearbox. To a complicated-sounding mat kereta term, to another complicated-sounding mat kereta term. They were just doing shitjobs, ON PURPOSE, just so that they could milk out money from my dad's trust. I wish I'm wrong about this. But I've heard of so many similar cases to think otherwise. I hope each and everyone of the conmen would have bloody diarhea and have genital warts on their faces. And then explode.

So, my dad decided to send his jeep to his trusty mechanic, Liew, or Liu, or Leeyu, or Loyd. He's done all the years worth of upgrade to the jeep and my dad seemed super-happy with it, so we are pretty sure in trusting his trench-filled trousers.

In the end, we just have to go to Baling right after my sister gets her PMR result (alang2, all the (y) sis' ! ) . Let's just hope there won't be any other complications, or else, I'm gonna strangle someone on Omegle verbally. Although sadly, I'm gonna miss out on Tot's Mansion's Bachelor Party, but I miss my kampung too much to ditch on this one.

Again, do not send your ride to random mechanics. They'll charge you for shit they haven't even done, or the shit they have done. Either way, you'll feel like shoving a jackhammer up their oily arseholes.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Rate The Red Rat Right

One man, one can, infinite energy. Behold the sheer awesomeness of Redbull, and how it kicks adrenaline right into your limbs. Break the bounds of physics and time itself, as you take a gulp down. Chug it like a champion.

Starring :
Haziq Nazli
Imran Matin

A Last Minute Production :
Farehah Azmi (Producer)
Faeez Sabri (DOP, Editor)
Ahmad Ashraf (Director, Storyboard)

Not to mention the Hopeless Faeces, and the awesome, awesome crew members.

Rule your f-in world, Redbull.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Thy Sentinel To Be Slain.

Fine, I am not a pessimist. But we all got to admit that it's hard to deny the very satisfaction of venting out. EVEN IF IT INVOLVES TYPING THE WHOLE GODDAMN THING IN CAPS LOCK !!!! . But I will not continue like that, for it will annoy the crap out of you, and even myself. The term "venting out" itself sounds like the flow of gas, and we all know how good "flow of gas" feels like. Ooo, yeea-hh-heh-hhh. And more often than not, the release will usually bring undesired reactions. But who the heckth care as long as, at the particular period of not giving a damn, you feel like you've just punched George W. Bush in the face.


Do I sound pissy ? , Do I sound like I'm choking someone with one hand, and typing with the other ? . Nehhh. Don't get me wrong, the whole day today was actually pretty productive, thus fun ! . But I gotta bring forth this one thing that happened today that left the blackest hole in my guts. I can't help but to pucker up all my insides every time this situation is recalled.

So here goes nothing,

T-TH-THHHE LAPTOPoo - Goddamn, I can't even begin to finish the sentence,


The laptop got f-in reformatted.

That was said in the straightest, tightest face I could muster, with a voice bordering on the tone of reading a suicide note.

Fine, wipe the "-_-" off yo' face. I exaggerated a lil' . But really, it's hard to wrap around your skull around the idea of absolute, unrecoverable, loss. The very thought of everything is gone. The pictures, the things I saved which are Error 404's now, the MSN convos, the transferred sms's, the webcam stills, the works, the notes, and everything in between, kapoof*, lost forever in the black, buttcrack of fate. How am I suppose to pull off the exact pose, with the exact face expression, at the exact place, with the exact people, with the exact memory that shrowds around that particular, captured moment ? . Or awkwardly, repeating everything I think I said the 8th time I chatted with so-and-so, expecting so-and-so to reply the exact same thing that so-and-so said in the first place ? . You can't repeat the exact stroke of your first circle, even on the 99999th try. Amirite.

You see, two traits that will never go well with each other even in hell. Being too sentimental, and having a knack for procrastinating things. We all know what a douchebag Procrastination could be. It's the other trait that I'm more worried about. It sucks to be too sentimental, that you can't help it. You can't let go off things that were once working parts of a worthy memory. This little plague of mine, can't be healthy. Just for the record of keeping it all sentimental, I've kept ; A used band-aid, An empty box of J.Co donuts, A small wooden heart, a keychain of Mickey Mouse's glove, a cup of black remains of what was once a rose, a hair clip, a Ben-10 cookie (in the fridge, c'mon), among other things. It comes to no surprise that I can recall the smallest details in the past, but not the biggest bulge of Captain Obvious from 4 minutes ago. Jood golly. This can't be good. I can't just flash the finger to the past, and ride off into the sunset like nothing happened. The past made me. It's in the future that, I want to know how the past builds up like a tower of Uno Stack'O towards how I am now, or later.

Holy bull, this is pathetic. I always go off track and end up sounding like a sobbing slit-me-wrists. Fine, my laptop got formatted. Get, over, it, Giddy-Mc-Clingy. Honestly, today wasn't all that bad. I shouldn't have a speck of reason in the world to be complaining. I landed a Jimmy Carlin's signature, I should be happy. Moooovin' on.

Screw all this useless yappings. I swear something's real good is gonna be posted up soon. And it's in HQ ! . So stay spooned :)

Monday, December 7, 2009

What's The Age Of The Edge Of That Ledge ?





Sorry for the temporary death of my blog. Good Jolly, It feels awkward to get my fingers back in here again. Like returning from a very long trip and not knowing what face to put on when everyone's blasting off party-poppers into your face screaming "WELCOME BAAACK !" . An attempt to make a shocked+happy+"aw gosh, you guys shouldn't have" face will only invite the deadliest awkward silence ever.

Only now, there are no party poppers. Only the dead silence that followed the first moment I came in.

Anyways, if there's anyone reading this (say HI) , I'm sorry for putting my blog to sleep. First, it started as writer blocks, which then with the catalyst of procrastination ( how ironic ) , it then stretched out to be a longggggggggggggg poopy pause of pointlessness. Then came the assignments, which gobbled up all my time and shat out wet piles of mindfucks. I swear, I was on the very edge of sanity. Maybe, I'd go deeper in that sooner or later. But for now, let me warm up this typing tentacles for a while.

BUT NOW THAT I'M FINALLY FREEEEEEEEEE :D , I would, hopefully, update this a little more often and write more than 140 words.

And with this, I leave you guys with a little video me , Faye and Ilyas made for my Copywriting assignment, entitled;



I have a more epic video in line. So stay doomed (y)

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Spleen Split By Splinters Spins In The Litter

"I'm not even what the mirror reflects to be.
In my mind, walks and talks the little me,
in a form that you would never see
- Bob

See, something as spontaneous as that can't come from my own sane awareness.
It must be Bob.
You don't just grow outside of me, your roots must have struck deep inside my skull.

Anyways, last week I was supposed to post something for Go Skate Sundays. But something has put me off my mood, my feelings. We were perfect for each other, for months we've put up with each other's shit. I swore, the times we had together, were the ones I had the most honest fun, ever. But, how long can you hover til' reality would snip the cord. No matter how strong, how thick, I know, WE know, it will eventually wear down. Crackle. Pop. And snap. I broke your heart, you broke mine, we broke up. Rest in splinters, my love ;

Love is to let go.

Holy noodles, the cheese from the last paragraph could've fed the whole world, for a year, and a half.

Anyways, it's not fair to let the spirit of Go Skate Sundays die even if I died a little inside. So, here's Haziq Hom Hom Termenong. Shredding with all awesomeness :

You can see more of Haziq (and his passion for the Dim Mak crew) in ShiftyMag's August issue.

Haziq loves his fans so much, that he wrote and signed all that with his broken right arm

Monday, October 19, 2009

A Sundae On A Sunny Sunday

Of all the days in a week, Sunday is the awesomest for us to get that wood on wheels and just shred Taman Paramount. The weather's nice, the clouds are behaving but most importanly, everyone's there, meaning more pysche-juice to pump us all up. The vibe is just amazing.

Matt, spontaneously named the fateful day, and all Sundays to come,

"Go Skate Sundays" . (y)

Mampus ah poyo.

So, in tribute of Go Skate Sundays, I'll post videos recorded at Taman Paramount, or any where else for that matter up here once in a while. Don't expect a triple kickflip to nose-blunt slide hardflip out or some crazy shit like that, but what the heck, we're having fun.

So, for this week, here's a lil somethin-somethin :

Me bailing my ass a million times. 1 tre flip out of 92380912309 tries.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Beetles Beat Bats With Bottles.

I tried cramming the whole first week of Raya into one post, and it stretched all the way to Mexico and back. I always lose points in the summary part in high-school English tests. And that one particular incident of which I accidentally put a smiley ":)" in a real essay, leaving it to be circled with the most vicious blood-red strokes that could ever be done with a ball-point pen.

Anyways, Raya this year went above the slightly same ol' - same ol' . Not to say the old same ol'- same ol' wasn't fun, but Raya was losing a little of it's shine due to modernization and less duit r-I mean spirit. But this year is a little different, 2009 pretty much picked up the old dusty Ruby of Raya, and polished it back up with a tooth brush to a shiny sparkle. Open houses were aplenty, with more people and more Rendang-smeared smiles. Baju-Melayu's pocket was a little heavier with duit-raya envelopes. And good food to help expand the ever progressing bussiness of Waistline And Co.

A few vital things were missing tho, like not going back to our kampung this year. Not one fire-cracker was lit, even a fire-flower (bunga api, can't recall what the heck it is in english) wasn't waved around in circles in the air. And like how I imagined I'd look like by this time of the year, it didn't match. Real bad. Well, there's always next year. And that's the exact same quote that had been said since 2004.

But there's some other thing that got lit,

My frikkin car.

On Sunday night,

It was a fun night ride, me driving the guys around for a change. We went to this snooker place. The place was dimly-lit, and the sofas were torn. It sure did radiate a vibe of badass-ness. I could've almost imagined a big bald biker dude in a leather vest, holding a pool cue stick in one hand, and a mug of beer on the other sneering at me everytime I want to check out his handlebar moustache from the corner of my eye.

Later, Pithang wanted to test-drive the Beetle. So, he did. Luckily the roads were empty, or we could've been thrown a bunch of middle-fingers synchronized beautifully with car honks. But it's normal, I can't even make the car go past 20 steps away from my house the first time I wanted to try it for a spin. And no, Pithang wasn't the one who lit the car on fire.

We had a late-night supper at Saji after that. We talked, we ate, and we made fun of your pants. The night got late, so we went off.

Just as I drove a mere few inches from the place, suddenly I smell the unmistakable smell of fire-crackers and went ; "Siapa bakar mercun pagi-pagi buta ni ? " .

I spoke too soon.

Seconds after that, blankets of smoke began rising out from the back. Sure, the guys were smoking in my car, but the smoke was too thick to be made from even 10 stressed-out smokers. And my car definitely couldn't fit 10 people. Something was going terribly wrong, said Captain Obvious. We stopped and we ran for cover and screamed

No we didn't. We did what most panicked, clueless teenagers would do.

Be camwhores :

Say smoked cheeeese !


Look how worried Aiq is.

When I called my parents, my dad said to lift the seat up and press this red button to launch us into space. We did, but the Oxygen wasn't as nice as Earth's, so we came back. Then, I saw this under the seat :

See that dark part in the Mastika-style red circle ? . That's the part that caught on frikkin smokes and warmed Pithang's ass.

The car didn't literally caught on fire. There was just a LOT of smoke. I was lucky I stopped early, or else if I drove the car a few seconds too long, Sean Kington's be calling 911 alright. This is the second time that this had happened, the first time was when my dad was driving it a long time ago. AND IT REALLY CAUGHT ON FIRE. And I swear to God, some guy who just happened to have a fire extinguisher came rushing in for the rescue. Alhamdulillah. Call it coincidence, or karma or whatever. But I'm sure it's God's way to show that if you do good things, good things will happen to you, and at times, in the most miraculous way ever. And my mom and dad has been doing countless, honest, good things alright. This is not just the only incident, there are loads more to prove this, but maybe I'll tell it in some other post.

Anyways, my dad told me what had caused the *almost* fire. You see, what's under the seats were husks, sabut kelapa. It certainly looked and felt like one. And knowing husks, they aren't so tough when they meet fire, or anything else for that matter. The battery, right here ;

..may had spit a few sparks. And the sparks, in contact with the non-padded husks, must had been the one that set it ablaze. Cause if you look really closely at the battery, the part where wires are connected to it, there are bits of silvery discharge around it. I don't know what that is, but that's the thing that could've almost killed the car, and us.

The solution was to just take one of the rubber mats, and pad the battery so it won't come contact with the bottom of the seats. Nice maneuver MacGuyver !

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Trudy Tried To Turn The Turd For The Third Time.

Holy shitting shit, I haven't felt this way for quite a long while now. This familiar feeling has crawled back out from the darkest depths of damnation, to haunt my inner sanity once again. Raging oceans of restlessness are dwelling inside me as I'm typing this. Fingers, they lightly shiver. Sweat, they slowly bead through the forehead. Oxygen, is transferred quick as heck. Life, it got kicked by the testicles by a studded boot.

I was stupid, then ran out of luck, then back to stupid, still with Lady Luck out there getting wasted in Vegas, while I'm here under this ladder of 13 steps with 13 black cats encircling me. When will she come back, that question can only be answered by Lady Luck's godfather, Father Fate.

You know what's worse than not being privileged to stand on the podium ? . It's standing on the 2nd post. Or 3rd. The glimmer of your medal will never ever match that shine beaming out from the gold. But the crowd's watchin, and the confetti's rainin' , so you better keep on smilin' kid.

I don't even know if I'm happier this way, as I never actually got to taste the juice of joy on the other side, which can only be entered by pairs. If that bouncer's not gonna stop looking at me like that, I swear I'm gonna tie his neck with his own tongue. Oh well, the acid river of self-esteem is guarding the way anyhow.

I'm sorry belly butterflies, I guess you guys are all doomed to be stuck in your respective cocoons for a while now. It can take up to a few weeks, months, years or maybe a couple of eternities, just hang in there alright. At least, you won't have the chance of getting pummeled and pulverized by the deathly berserk of that heart-shaped bitch. The cocoons are the bubbles, and you guys are the Bubble Boys.

Captain Obvious came to the rescue and beat the hell out of Abomination Assumption. Thanks CO , here's your tip. A scarred remain of the pulmonary artery, that at one point was sworn to be flowing rainbows and sprinkles in it. Now the veins are all just streaming black bile and slimy spiky bits.

The truth is, I still do. And it's my fault, for doing nothing. Waiting for IT to happen, and NOT making it happen. I don't even know if it's ego blocking the way, or shyness, or the absence of balls, or just plain stupidity, but I feel like shit now. Even shit feels better than I do, all warm and mushy. Ahh, warm and mushyyy. I missed that.

Now knowing what to fix, let me get to that before getting back on this now, forbidden track.

And Phossy Jaw makes your face f-in glow in the dark ! . And that's randomness for you.

The Raya post is on it's way, wait for that and ignore this bullturd :)

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Damned Dame Of Dimsdalle

One of these days, this, THIS, would drag me down a spiraling abyss of pitch-black despair. Which I'll never be able to get up from, or see sunlight ever again. Or see that ray of sun, as a radioactive beam of skin-melting damnation.

Not that I'm already sitting in one shady corner, slitting my wrist and writing bad poetry with the black blood I bleed, or am I intending so. But there's this thing that's recently has been involuntarily, controlling the major part of my brain. The part where you rationalize and sort out things with logic.

But , since things you would normally derive from logic has been contradicting itself now, you have to be extra careful. And careful as in, stripping every living flesh of trust from the meat of rationality.

Or to put it simply, when you're as heck sure, have you never been this sure in your entire life, ever, that "D" comes after "A B C" , that's when suddenly "Q" or "X" pops out of nowhere and tuck itself just comfortably there.

Or like, preparing your tastebuds for the awesomeness of ice-cold cola, to only be scarred with a melting torrent of black, unsweetened coffee.

You get what I'm saying ?

Sure you don't, and let's leave it that way.

I still wish for what I've wished y'know.


Monday, September 21, 2009

Bold Bowl Blows Bald Bull

I used to really look forward to it. It's good to you know, at times, just to release everything and walk away with a dreaded burden lifted. At time it's easy, and at times it's pretty hard. But I know I'll pull on through.

But now that it hurts, real bad, I just wish that I won't do it anymore. But it's inevitable, it will just come by like a thunderstorm, rude and sudden. When it rumbles, something's gonna tumble alright.

Crap, I need more fibre.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Pins And Ponies In Penny's Pantry

*Just so you know, this a part two of this . Or you can just scroll down.


Holy shit, this is super-super late, I know. You've all the right in all of cosmos to still hold up that snot covered middle finger, and shake it more vigorously this time. I'm sorry, time and inspiration were being total bitches and won't let me pass through my writer's block. So, close the lights, light some candles, shave your eyebrows or whatever to get you into the appropriate vibe.

So here it is, part friggin two :

While we were all pushing Pithang's car back to life, I stole a few glances to the darkness behind me. Why I did that was beyond myself, I swore curiosity and idiocy were the ones that jerked my neck's reflex. Luckily, there was no one smiling, and waving us goodbye. As soon as the engine started up, we all scurried inside the car and got out from the place like it's gonna explode. I surely felt it in my head that there's suddenly gonna be a faint chuckle coming out from the darkest corner of the house that soon heightens to a maniacal, almost hysteria-like howl as the words "To be continued" slowly becomes clearer on the screen.

Haziq, known for his awesome skateboardship, was also known for his undeniable ability of spacing out into nothingness. And did he space out. So spaced out he was, that Nabil had to shout his name twice for him to snap away from his termenung trance. That's when he said restlessly that he can't get the image out of his mind. What image ? . The image of ,

A huge stain of dried up crimson blood, splattered across the bathroom floor.

And no, that's not some emocore lyrics I just pasted, he really said he saw what he said he saw.

And being the Uncle Seekers we all are, we started to make assumptions, what could the blood had come from. Haziq guessed, the aftermath of a bloody murder. But it can't be because the blood was only on the floor, if there was an actual bloodshed, blood would be everywhere in the doggamned cubicle, or trails leading to a place our balls won't let us follow. So, the next best guess was a rubber-less mistake ; someone had an abortion. Because the blood was near walls of which, the supposed-to-be-mom, would comfortably lean her back against it. But hey, that's just us.

We gathered at Kayu at The Curve to have our Sahur. Sleepy Mamak's on the end of their shifts, made me and Haziq to have our roti telur on the edge of sahur time. Anyways, I did tell in part one, that only Haziq Menung, Apek Max and Aiq Romero saw the blood stain.

We were all in it together, so we all should see the blood patch together right ? . Yeap, we can't spell team without meat(?) can't we. So, we planned another visit to the place one more time.

Anyways, we needed a rest, so we hanged around Shell for a while.

Sleep deprived teenagers running on left-over adrenaline, given an empty petrol station and a free street to roam would normally fruit consequences such as :

Don't try this at home kids, or with people around.

And other antics such as Nabil got ditched when he was taking a crap, and his pants was in the car. Experimenting fashion with jeans tucked into socks. And getting excited seeing, and chasing a bird that just wouldn't goddarned fly. Not that he couldn't , he's just lazy.

Sock'em to em


How did a splatter of blood, lead to a bouncing birdy ? .

By the way, I gotta be honest with yeh. As you would logically guess, the sun had already risen, and our balls had grew back to normal.

Anyways, our next spot ;

A lone house just beside the highway near Damansara Perdana.

The spot is said to have been featured in Seekers, so you know you're in for some serious shit. And boy, am I right ; There had been shit alright. Bat shit. Loads of it. Decorating every inch of the floor and debris. Walking on tip-toes isn't exactly the manliest looking thing to compliment your smug of bravery. But I ain't gonna shit-stain my shoes.

Other than the bountiful bat brown blobs, there were also a bunch of actual bats, searing above a mere inches above our heads with vengeance. VENGEANCE I TELL YOU. As displayed by one of the most epic video in the history of pants moistening scream.

Look at Pithang and how cool and calm he is, walking about the room like a real man.
"Ah he'll be fine" as I let him be with his balls of steel while I join the rest of the gro..


A blood curdling, gender-altering scream suddenly came out of nowhere, as a familiar figure sprinted out of the room with his hands clutching his head. Oh shit, what did he saw to make a man of his magnitude to burst into an ear-splitting scream ? A decomposed, maggoty body wrapped in a bag ? , A woman in blood-stained white cloth with long unruly hair, or a leprechaun humping a pink chihuahua ?

Turned out, when he was heroically opening a closet door or something, a battalion of bats suddenly burst out from there into his face, making him to totally go from heroic, to hysterics. From us being super shit serious, to be all giggly, giggling in guilt.

If you continue on the video, let's say around 2:15, you will see this and your laughing will immediately put to a halt..


A critter's skull, a dog's perhaps, just laying there in the middle of the room, coldly staring at us with it's eyeless bony socket. Watching, judging our every move. If a dog died there naturally, then where are the rest of the skeletal remains ? . A black metal ritual that someone forgot to clean up after ? , of what's left from a redneck's log cabin decor ? .

Your guess is just as good as mine.

The bats were starting to get territorial, so we got the hell out and finally went to Bukit Tunku, for the second time.

The place still looked pretty creepy in the morning. The vibe it radiates was something like "Oh how nice it is for all of you to come back" , said in a very welcoming tone, but at the same time, it suspiciously sends shivers all the way down from your spine to your spleen.

"Oh how nice it is for all of you to come back, cookie ? "

This is the place :

Come innn.

Remember the stairs that lead to your darkest nightmares ?
Well, it ain't too dark now.

Tengok Haziq termenung

Alright Pithang, no bats.

EP coming out in November.

Long story short, here's the video of our tour :

And not forgetting :

The blood splat I kept talking about,

Fine, it might just be a bad piping. But then again, it's a bit too thick, and a lot of dust have accumulated over the time must had darken it. And have you ever left blood to dry and clot, and noticed the colour ? . Yeah, my thought exactly.

You be the judge.

The morning's still young, and our eyelids aren't showing signs of slowing down yet. So we went up the "Bukit 3D" for our little morning stroll. Bukit 3D is because, like in old racing video games, even if you're moving forward, the background stays still like painted cardboard.

Brakebroke Mountain.

All the houses, were pretty much all the same. It's almost like re-entering the same house three times. I'd post videos again, but it's gonna get heavy as post-raya weight gains.
So here are the highlights ;

There was this door. OR MORE LIKE THE DOOR OF DEATH. 'Cause when you open it, this..


The stairs. that used to lead downstairs, had been demolished, making curious wanderers at night to go :

A: Hey, let's check this door ouUUUUARGH.. *Splek !*

And a little guess, which school the kid that used to live here used to go ?

Hm, awfully familiar colour scheme, amirite ?

There was a short note laying on the ground,

"Meeting with Izhar"

No, we don't wanna meet you Izhar.

There was a photo album too. The pictures looked very old , judging by the big hairdos and tucked-in shirts galore, it just might came from the 60's. Something about it gave me the shivers. Maybe the fact that looking at the album, MIGHT just be as equal as looking at the obituary section ? . IM JUST SAYING.


"Everything's great here, the weather's just nice and the flowers are pretty.
You know what, I wish you were here. It's quite lonely laying here all alone, cold and rotting. I know, I've a better idea, how about if I come to your place instead ? . Great. Give me ten
Alright babe, I'm here. Turn around ;)

Turn. Around.

Alright fine, it just wrote something about Tokyo, and I heard about Pithang reading Bangsar too. And it was in the year 19-f'in-90 .

And the last but not the least,

What would this ,

A chair with a gaping hole (that let's say, would fit both of your feet ? ) , placed conveniently
on top of a table.


This on the ceiling,

A hole that something had once clutched on it, made.

...would conclude to you ? .

Shit. Gulp. Gallon. Of. Glob.

There was this chair that was just right in front of a rustic mirror. I was so close to taking a picture, til', you know, reflection, you know. Full bladder, you know. Phone getting eternally possessed you know.

But it did look something like this ,

Mirror mirror on the wall, who has the wettest pants of all ?

Then that was it. We finally headed out. And just shortly after that, we heard a loud rumble up in the sky. We looked up and we saw a helicopter with a flag, and was spraying red smoke. GODDAMNN, MERDEKA PARADE. Never went to one since forever, and everyone was just as psyched.

So next stop, Dataran Merdeka.

We arrived at around 9, and guessed what ? . The roads where you'd expect marching bands and tanks to roll on, were dead empty. Maybe, it hasn't started we thought. Good going for the traffic polices to burst our bubbles with ;

"Dah habis lah dik, start pukul 8"

What the hell-ichopper ? . THAT, early ? . What about your Janji Melayu huh ? . Aight fine, there's always next year, and the next, and the..Shit, I really wanted to see the tanks.

We thought all hope was lost, til we saw this..


And we followed it's trails, and was met with this lot :

The pakcik in purple was the one who took this picture,
Would be awesomer if he's in this.


You know how I always complain how short the days are becoming, right ? . Then again, who am I to bitch, when all I do on such fine mornings, was sleeping, snoozing and snoring ? . This day sure felt like one of the longest day, and definitely one of the awesomest evaarrrr :) . Hope I will see the tanks next year (y)

Friday, September 4, 2009

Pens And Pennies In Penny's Panties

So, what did you do to celebrate our country's independence ?

Waved a flag til' your joints are sore ? , Screamed "MERDEKA !" so loud, you swore you lungs puckered to a prune ? Or go on a wheelie/wekang spree, enjoying the sweet breeze of national freedom, blowing against your ekor at the Dataran Merdeka ?

How about having your Merdeka spirit shattered by the absence of fireworks, and instead be incredibly pissed off by the inconsiderate jerks that should've went on that wheelie spree at Dataran, but instead threw firecrackers high up above a dense crowd, risking everyone a blazing bald patch ? . You guys really think it's funn..alright, a burnt patch of hairless skin is pretty darned hilarious, but hey c'mon guys, wouldn't be that funny if it burned a hole in your Timberland boots would it ? . Thought so.

Anyways, that was it. That was my so called effort to get into the Merdeka mood. Well, way before that, we berbuka at this some nifty seafood shack. Here are some pictures :)

We're so patriotic, even we had to choose a place named Merdeka,

Okay fine, it's just coincidence.

Ececey Aiqqq.


Cina Kalah Judi

Count all visible moustaches.

Jehan Miskin second from left.


If the first Agong had a mullet.

Yes, by coincidence, I had two butter prawns, and lemon chickens, on this day, and quite some time before. Pointless to point out I know, but I should say, those two dishes do bring back some sweet caramelized memories :) . You, who find this sentence to make sense, should know :)

A short Left 4 Dead session, then the disappointing Merdeka Eve, then this :

I don't know what came into us, but suddenly we all felt a tad bit adventurous. We went to a hill, further up from The Curve. Rode up the hill we did, and explored a dark path on foot, leading to a darker abyss we did too. This, triggered a few adventures to search for some spooked-up rush.

So, since it's Ramadhan, the thought of all Satan(s) are all chained up nicely lit a little light of bravery in all of us. I do stress in LITTLE.

And here to mention, we're not out to prove how bad-ass we all are against the other-worldy. I can assure you, if those "things" did play a little peek-a-boo with us, we, or at least, I, will go all Usain Bolt, but with a slightly wetter pants.

We're just a curious lot of youngsters, out for a motiveless search of cheap rush. You know the feeling where you just can't wait to get a glimpse of your high school crush, but when she's actually there in front of your face, your knees tremble, your lips mumble and you just want to quick-as-shit scramble from the place ? It's more or less the same. We all just can't deny the rush we get from the most pointless and stupidest things we do, but by the end of the day, you'll feel dumb, yes, but it will all ultimately be frikkin' worth it.

Anyways, after a few stops in between

Then we're off to our next destination, a house far up in Bukit Tunku. The place was dark and eerie, duhh. And it had this feeble looking, narrow staircase leading down to your darkest nightmares. Oh alright, it's just too dark to even see shit, that made you to assume your darkest nightmares are waiting down there, ready to shrink your balls to microscopic nibblets.

We walked through the abandoned remains, with Hazim, the most fearless among us leading the way. By only the aid of a cellphone LED-flash-light, we explored the shadows. After a handful of time exploring, we suggested that the house looked like it's built around in the 60's judging by the old-school-ish layout and style.

We then found a pathway, leading out from the kitchen to a collection of tiny rooms outside. We made suggestions that they were guest rooms, or class rooms, or dorms. Yes, we gave out opinions as we stood still in one place, instead of actually checking the darned rooms out, you got a problem with that ?

The most interesting find of the night waited in this small bathroom connected to what seemed, mostly like it was a bedroom. Everyone noticed a mysterious bendy straw in a tiny water glass placed above the sink. But only Apek, Haziq and Aiq saw the other surprise.

Towards the end of the exploration, Aiq suddenly became all panicky, which domino-ed us all to be panicky too. And of all the places to be all panicky, it had to be a narrow pathway which was missing safety railings. In occasions of falling down stairs to be funny, this one is not to be shitted with. Scars of cement impact would heal, but scars of getting up to only find out your friends have ditched you, would not die down even a day after a damned eternity.

Luckily, we are all still friends.

The process of LET'S-GET-THE-F'CK-OUT-OF-HERE-! was ruined abruptly by Pithang's car not wanting to start. If this shit's karma, and karma's a bitch, this bitch is definitely the bitchiest bloody bitch to ever bitch around Karmaville (shit made up once more).

It got moving eventually, and later in the car only Haziq revealed what he saw; you know the other surprise ? . He said, he friggin saw..

Your Mom.

OKAY OKAAYYY I'M SOOORYYYYY. Was just try'na ease the tension y'know. He saw..

A bunch of snot covered middle fingers waving in the air in front of my face, as this is gonna be continued in part two.

He He He :D

No, but really. This post is getting too long, and it's gonna be real heavy if it's all smushhed up in here. Partwo's gonna be worth it(?) , with videos and stuff :)

And not to be forgotten,

Happy birthday to our Merdeka boy,

Haziq Nazli

Termenung-menung lah selalu :)

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Weekly Wreck With Wicky Wick Witty.

I'm as paranoid as a claustrophobic guy in a box.

Make that a fat claustrophobic guy in a box, duct taped to inescapable perfection, buried 6 feet under rock-hard cement.

Hey baby, let's get stuffy.

(And check out my mad MS Paint skillz)

This had lead me to over-assume. Situations as equivalent as a gentle baby rash, through my Paranoia-cular ( Again, shit made up ) , will look like a cancerous tumour, that grows on your face, and your crotch.

And boyy, ain't the cancerous tumour itch like a bitch, it'll leave me rolling in raging restlessness like a snail in a salt house.

In my head at least, wriggling like a seizure every time I get the silent treatment would redeem me a straight jacket and a spoon clenched in my mouf' .

Sure, I can put up my nose up high, showing off my nostril hair in all it's glory, saying "I don't give a dangling damn" every time paranoia kicks in the door.

But we all gotta admit that we are all just dynamites, attached to wicks of our insecurities. What differentiates us all, is only the length of those wicks, how easily those wicks are lit and how would it explode.
Suck my wick.

Some wicks are dead-short, and would be triggered the exact moment you accuse him of secretly liking to have his ass tapped, by a dude, and he'll explode like a nuclear pinata. Violent, but funny and full of surprises.

Well some wicks are so long, that even countless attempts of Yo Mama jokes wouldn't even light a spark. Altho secretly it has already been lit, we won't see it explode. Give him a confined space, a pillow ( or a pen and paper if he's the pathe- I mean, poetic kind) and you'd see him go booommm(!), at a devastating rate of a mercun pop-pop.

Trying not to think the thing that makes you go all uneasy, will not help. Of course, when you try to get rid of it, you will still, in a way still think about it. The more the effort, the harder it will go down.

Optimism ? . Pffyeah, sure. What would you do, if all along you thought it was raining rainbows and butterflies, but finally you found out, it's raining pigs and pickle juice ? . Optimism is only the mechanism to help you deny the stench of the poop, but will go haywire if you finally see the poop. Pessimism on the other hand, would already expect something poopy when the smell arises, so even if he did see poop in the end, he wouldn't be surprised.

But when it turns out that it wasn't poop after all but a pot of golden nuggets, an optimist wouldn't be surprised cause he knew all along, that pot of gold doesn't smell like poop. But who wants, to NOT be surprised by the sight of goddigitty gold, am I right ? . Pessimists sure wouldn't want that. Our eyes will bulge bigger when see the glare of the golden ray, and the effect of a surprise, you know the giddy in the tummy effect, would hit us as quadruple as hard, than on those optimists.

Now how about that, a pessimist trying to be optimistic about pessimism ? .

Then again, pessimism is not the way to slaughter the neck of paranoia. Well in fact, it's just throwing more wood into the campfire of said paranoia. Optimism, in the other hand, not to say it wouldn't help, but when it backfires, you know you wouldn't mind to snap a neck or two when the pessimists go "WE TOLD YOU SOOO !" .

So now, what ?

Distraction, yes the sweet dew of distraction. A distraction, which you don't put your conscious effort in.

You don't force yourself to play your Game Boy to against-your-own-will ditch your homework while chanting in your head "I'm distracting myself, I'm distracting myself" don't you ? . You'll get Game Over, Restart ? 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 0, as fast as the thought of homework keep piling in your head.

But when it feels natural, you put down your pen and just play your portable gaming system without a single trace of Algebraic Formulae in your head. You have just, in that certain moment of you playing your Game Boy, successfully put all the problems behind you while you indulge in a temporary escape to free your mind.

Same applies to getting paranoid. You put that shit behind your ass, don't think about it (DON'T think to not think about it), and just squeeze yourself out of your narrow shell, and go outside. Inhale in fresh outdoor air, and laugh at the kid who fell off the swing, or help him. Both will be refreshing. Text someone you haven't text-ed for a while with a little extra enthusiasm and smileys. Meet new people, through the internet, or not. Try to learn a new trick on your skateboard, or earn yourself a new muscle sprain. Try that new oddly coloured drink you've been eye-ing at the Bazaar Ramadhan. Read some stuff. Create some stuff. Youtube some stuff.

The list is endless, put a plug on that paranoia plague :)