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 :)