Seen any movies lately? Because I had. Not only one, but five! With two on birthdays! With certain help from CK, I got a bonus along with these watchings: DVD Marathons! My eyes must really be strained! Reddish dots, representing clots of blood jammed after long term exposure should unearth on my korneas lately. Yet, astonishingly, my composure during the sessions remained steadfast and fresh. Why then, didn’t my eyes gone kaput? For good reason they should have, especially since they’re rated 18-SX and 20-GOH. Got the initials? The reasons for such composure are found in on combinations of two words, each for every movie sessions that we have. 1st Movie Marathon, the magic words: Scary Movie. It isn’t that it was good, not even (definitely not!) decent. With its harpings and takes on grotesque, Viknesk-laden body parts and their excretions, it is surely not of this author’s taste. Imagine this: genitalia bashing, toilet craved strings with continual plays on sexual dysfunction and idiosyncrasy. In other words, Scary Movie was scary. It isn’t that I have a distaste for such brands of humour. It isn’t a trait for Goh here to be in any particular way gentlemanly or in a stronger wording, civilised. For the uninitiated, you’re talking about a guy who sniffs pepper to induce a level 9 sneeze with saliva projectiles ready. ‘Nostrils’ and ‘shabby’ don’t come along together everyday, you know. It is just that Scary Movie’s flabby. The humour just isn’t, well, sophisticated. All it does is expose some nuts and boobs in some ‘quirky’ fashion and calls it a ‘joke’.Pretentious! A boy crying ‘Penis!’ doesn’t really fool anybody (with exception to my ‘clique’)into laughing. Being exhibitionalist makes it all the worse. Looking at someone else’s ding dongs (even though they’re made up of cheap play-doh) up close and personal isn’t what you may call ‘taste’. It gets even more horrible when the ding dongs became homicidal. As so, what’s with it when its so, so bad. The redeeming factor, my readers, is not with me but with my so-called film enthusiasts. For unknown reasons, it makes well-mannered, courteous individuals into feral, restless chimpanzees with a reputation for high pitch shrieks. Leading that path down to George, George, George of the Jungle was Viknesk, Viknesk, Viknesk of Darsh. Isn’t it engaging to witness a fairly respectful, upright man with an IQ of 135 doing an impression of Cheetah in heat? Darsh would be wooed. While I might have been content with a big, sickening smile in being a fellow observer while my other ‘wild’ kins go ‘free willy’* over ‘free willy’**, the temptation of participating is strong. So, there’s it. The reason why Scary Movie’s the code to a happy day. It may not make dudes and dudettes hot chicks like in Dude, but it gives an even better glaze: that of making you and your friends act silly. Dude, sweet! A list of other DVDs: Scary Movie 3, Johny English and Dude, Where’s My Car? 1st Birthday Treat:Jennifer Aniston J.A says it all. The marvel of the celluloid screen without any, thank Kee Chai, cellulites. Nothing’s airbrushed, photoshoped. Just a born beauty, flinging her long silky blonde hair while it sways in the wind. Immaculate. Divine... ...just wish she wasn’t hooked to Ben Stiller though. Along Came Polly, that was our fair game for my birthday. In the roll, Ben Stiller plays a control freak, aptly working his guts as a risk accessment consultant. Everything was just in place, until a french dude arrived and went with his fry too far, breaking Ben’s carefully planned nuptial ‘bliss’ in disaray. Then came along J.A. J.A being the total opposite of Ben with her scruffy sense of life took Ben along the way and made not only him her boyfriend but also a salsa king. Regardless of their differences, both lived happily ever after, in love and unwed. A short sypnosis. An even shorter movie. Nonetheless, every second was sensuous, serving a sacred slate of Jennifer Aniston’s stunning self. Squat was she slept sizzlingly with Safety Stiller. Sucks sassily. After viewing Polly, this blogger learned another one of life’s lessons. No matter what happens, Lee Syiong will always get the girls, especially the ones worthy of the title ‘Goddess’. (There goes Melon) Just wish I was more like suave son Syiong and less seasoned sucker Soonli. *activity done by comatose deprived Party Animals, not hot chicks **‘Cuban Cigar with Rambutans as side order’, hot chick attraction To Be Continued.... feedback

Yesterday marks the day when this loafter finally decided to bring a paycheck in.Finally. no more smirks from Kevin! No more teases with the word 'money' usually coming before 'free' in it! No more quirky Rich Man jokes! I've found acceptance! I'm now a proud member of the "Work-my-arse-up" under 25s. Joining the proto- Yuppies, eh? I'm now officially obsessed, if not addicted, with attaining a commision of 50 ringgit worth. I've now became the benevolent yet fillial pawn for another Money grabbing venture offering pseudo-health products. All these had made me nothing more than the proverbial Slave of the Ringgit. What to do? You're just going with the flow. Anyway, need to wake up early tomorrow. ;)

Vampire hunting’s over! I can’t even believe such a catastrophe could happen! What in the name of Viknesk could have caused this calamity? A spoilt sensor gun, in other words a gun that won’t shoot no matter how hard you jerk it. It’s terrible news. There was really nothing I can say that can heal the rift that has developed between the Gaming Centre and my passion for shoot-em-ups. It was horrendously a betrayal of our fillial loyalty to its code of conduct: Play, play and buy more tokens!. Nevertheless, yesterday was a decent outing. We spent the entire evening playing with balls of various sizes,volumes and weights. Firstly, because our Tai Lo Brother Bear wasn’t at the intended arena yet Mr Melon Maniac decided we may as well do good with a few rounds of pool. There we were hitting, yet again, balls with sticks. This time we have shooting ‘aids’ in the form of longer sticks. Unfortunately, this blogger wasn’t really that fond with the assistance given. It is no secret that we are just a bunch of enthusiast with liltle or no knowledge (not to mention talent) of the game at large. The liltle red balls won’t or just refused to enter into the damn holes! Here’s the list of ‘goals’ scored so far: CK: 4 bola Melon Maniac: 3 bola Me: 2 bola Feats of rage and utter pointlessness outrage the three participants who were, before this game, good and fair sportsmans. Other than these few, exceptional scores the rest of the session was spent on just laying the reddish spheres into an order where a score was assured (that too, was an exertion of futility!). Tai Lo arrived ten minutes before the game’s over. After such a ‘motivating’ set, we moved on to bigger, heavier spheres of comparatively ridiculous porportions. There it was, the Bowling Grounds, the watering wad for all Malaysians with no life and a thirst for rowling, spinning objects. As with the usual routine, we gave the gentleman among us the first go. Suprisingly, it was this blogger. There I was, walking down the lane with a pair of rented shoes. I stooped, and released a series of stunning rolls down the polished pavement. All apparent was the score (at each throw) which was near to the numerical equivalent for the expression ‘moron’, the zero. Melon Maniac had the ‘Beckham’ touch; curved an oversized and obese sphere of spheres to an almost beautiful swing. The bowl, as if it had a mind of its own, swerved from the far right to obliterate a couple of pins on its side! It was an amazing 30 degree turn! Talk about boomerangs in the court. CK was on form. Obtaining a high of >100, there was suspicion that he, in the early morning, had his fair share of ‘ball knocking’ in his personal space. Tai Lo wasn’t that bad either. He was trailing behind the king pin CK by a margin as liltle as 33. Yes, it was a two digit number. It’s lucky he didn’t get a diference of 50. Lay Cheng would be proud! There was a cafeteria next to the bowling lawn. In spite of that, fries wasn’t an option. But Viknesk was. Regardless of all tireless attempts at coercing him out to the outside world, he remains virtuos in his stance to be left at home at all cost. Yes, a pal with an extended schedule where his friends fit no part into it. Hmm...that reminds me of Kevin. Kevin=Brainard? Finally it was 5.00 in the evening. Time for our natural migration to Prangin. CK’s Perodua, which I will affectionately dub VF-1A was available. That’s why our ‘hike’ to and from the mall was fast and trouble-free. That is with the exclusion of the puke-inducing drive up the spiralling Car Park. For safety purposes, I brought over and wore my ever thrusted bycicle helmet. It’s the safest choice for a couple of crash dummy-wannabes. Behind, Tai Lo was constantly ramming into the Melon Maniac. Talk about centrifugal force! The VF-1A came to a halt at the rooftop. Never had anyone seen such space and emptiness since the days of attending Chemistry classes. Benzena wasn’t present, though. Once in the food court, Tai Lo ordered a fresh bowl of tom yam soup.The taste was envigorating and we decided to be parasites with a dignity worth 50 sens. It was reasonably spiced with an abundance of tau ges and other green shoots. Just like Tai Lo’s love life. Even though melon was sold, Melon Maniac didn’t have a try. Its sensuous appeal was losing its strenght on him, perhaps. Or perhaps being a fillial son is a prerequisite for his future schemes. No one knows how perverted his mind is. Okay, because of time constainst, I would like to continue this session’s excursion another time. Thank you for your patience and unpassified caffeine-stimulated senses. P.S: Getting ‘feminine’ here. Listening to Celine Dion while composing this piece of garbage littered crap written with a keyboard barely responsive to his master’s orders.

I am at it again. Please pity this blogger for his compulsive procrastination. For the past month, nothing had been posted by this genuine slacker cum imprudent wiseguy. Despite all attempts at imposing a schedule aimed to promote self-discipline, the author vigilantly guards his comfortable lifestyle of vice that include slothing and gluttony. I honestly am regretting my inactive status. The last 4 weeks had been wonderful as well as exciting. National elections was held on the 21st of March. Also, during this period of time, I went out longer with and met more friends and former schoolmates than the past 3 months since school’s over. It was a great, eventful experience. As so, I will try to address the issues and situations that had happened during this time. Oh yes, yesterday I turned 20! Okay, so I’m getting older. Nothing to be joyous for. Except for the fact that I got free food for the entire length of that day. “It’s Amazing”-Boss-level Vampire The good news so far. ‘Vampire hunting’ became a hobby. ‘Hunting lair’:Prangin Mall’s Console Game Centre, 5th floor. Watch me as I and a fellow game patron CK aka kimochi boy fought of waves of horrendously animated poligon monsters with a craving for crappy dialogue. With our plastic, sensor guns we took out round after round of ugly baddies. While senselessly swatting of the Slaves of Dracula, this particular blogger jolts, shakes,shrieks and shouts curses such as “Shit! Shit! Taste my wasabe, damn blood sucking abominations! Arrggghhhh!!” (while unleashing a trail of bullets) It’s good to be an artificial Buffy with testicles. “Call her again and I will screw you!”-Viknesk Kumarr The superb expression of a tutor-tutee (and beyond!) relationship on the rocks. The most memorable statement so far by a fellow buddy. This sums up the nature of a guy with an IQ of 140. Not bad, isn’t it? Vivid, and full of emotion. Utterly direct and straight to the point. No spin. No complications. Just undeviating comment (not to mention threat), in this instance, of my relationship with my friends and their love life. Not to worry, our brotherhood is still as cordial as ever. It should be said that, with the enormous ammount of time we have between weekends (working days for most of us, ironically), we had become a closer ‘sorority’ of sorts. Yes, I do deliberately meant sorority. A sisterhood is more implicit to our current social behaviour. Why do I say this? The word ‘emotive’ becomes relevant within our conversations. Their seemed to be a more humane, a more approachable and a less aggresive touch in our chitchats. Maybe it’s because the tense world of STPM and irritable exam questions are over. No more pressure to claim being in a ‘better’ rank and position than everybody else. No more baffling enigmas about the mysteries of the universe in mathematical form. No more annoying sarcasms from equally disturbing (and disturbed) classmates. Just, a clear, silent moment where everything, every goal, every aspiration , melts into our present reality like ice to water. Nothings supposed to be anything, nobody’s suppose to be anybody. Not to worry, this Zen-like sensation will be overtaken by a condition called ‘boredom’. “I have a fetish for ladies’ fart because they represent irrepressible urges!”-KC @ Kimochi Boy My fair Viknesk would disagree. As will most other males sane enough. Unfortunately, there aren’t many. Topics on the brink of conservative Malaysia are our delight for the last 30 days. This includes every possible ‘turn on’ from curves to character. Gossips mostly consists of the ‘ideal’ assets of a few ‘noticable’ lady colleagues. Here is a selection of our most intimate ‘exchanges’: CK: Did you know that Melon’s bum is curvy and perfectly streamlined? VK: Wow. (panting) CK: That’s because it’s comparitively large. For Square’s sake, it juts out from skirts and pants alike! Clothes just don’t fit it! VK: (speachless) CK: Once I did told her about it, as in “Nice Ass!” VK:Low-life! CK Well, it’s better than KT because he literarily talk to ladies’ ‘cups’! Other matters of interest includes the strange and forbidden entity called the female mind. It just doesn’t make any sense! You were just doing something and here comes a smack of disgust or contempt for no apparent reason. Here’s a fictional (yet realistic) account: VK: Okay, F=MxA. Force equals mass times acceleration. Got it? DR: Hmmph. (looking away) VK: Err...did you get it? Because if you didn’t... (DR breaks in between) DR: (Facing VK with a heaped up expression): What do you think I am? Stupid? Of course I got what you mean! Please! Just because you’ve such a brain doesn’t mean that you can look down on us! I know I’m stupid okay? You will never understand what idiots like me are feeling. VK: I’m just trying to make sure this tutoring session is interactive. DR: You think I don’t know what you’re thinking? I know you’re trying to shove all of your crummy ‘intellect’ into me. You think you are so great isn’t it? Since when you became that qualified to be my ‘tutor’? VK: I thought you asked me to. DR : Don’t take advantage of me anymore! I know what you’re trying to send me to with your ‘Force equals mass and acceleration’ thing. It’s one of those dirty male jokes right? Don’t think I do not know what it really is about! You’re a pervert! Bitch...(walks out of room, baffling VK) “After long consideration, we feel there is a need to set up an independent body”-EC chairman Damn right they do. Even though I wasn’t yet eligable to vote, it still does bothers me when such an important event is wrecked with confusion. Not to mention that it too had the shortest campaigning phase (just eight days!) in this counrty’s history. This is compounded by the lame excuse given by the chairman, that it was because of ‘national security’;the state, in a limit of longer than a week, could not run with a caretaker government What were they doing? Didn’t they started printing and scheduling for it since parliament was dismissed? Or when the PM stated the subject in early March? Why did the EC not publish or announce a more comprehensive guide to local election officers? What’s with the rife at Selangor and a few other states? Enough of the inquiries. Anyway, as expected BN won as it always has with a 2/3 majority. The biggest ‘shock’, as is asserted by the mainstream media, is the loss of PAS in Terenganu and various other state seats in the heartland. A sudden, negative turn for fundamentalism? Not really, to me. Over the past five years, PAS’s victory and image had been hyped up. This, along with the oftern ridiculous statements made by their party chiefs and leaders, alienated and terrorised many into thinking that they were ‘Taliban’ style bureaucrats and politicians. It is often forgotten that the gains in PAS in ’99 were due to a protest movement rather than a real burgeoning move for a more theocratic state. Felt threatened by these self-imposed moral guardians? Seen the ads posted and articles written about their potential ‘extremism’? In spite of the fact that they do hold up an ideology and system similiar to what were propogated by the Taliban, PAS isn’t the Kalshnikov wielding warrior fanatic fighting a bloody cause. They continue to choose the ‘civilised’ option of gaining power. By going ahead and getting involved in a voting system, they refute most violent actions as this option isn’t particularly ‘savvy’ among the majority of the rakyat. That isn’t to say that there isn’t a dip of radical ideas with them. By the contrary, they do want to impose a more extreme version of a religious state as compared to the others. However, we shouldn’t just go along with these scares as if their were an ala Iranian Revolution waiting to happen. Fear had too long influenced us in our choices. Do you know what our citizens love to hear and encovered in? Stability. Moderation. All fine values apart from that if taken to the instant where even change is to be annulled, this very state risks being stagnant. Why don’t we try being a liltle bit ‘possesive’? Why don’t we ask for a better transportation system? Why always enthrust on Perodua or Proton as the alternative? Why can’t their be an efficient way in dealing with congestion? What about the garbage? Aren’t most Malaysian towns, excluding perhaps the Klang Valley, dirt-laden? Why are our Municipal Councils members chosen from the top ? Why not ask for them to be directly selected from the bottom? “You sloth! No work, no pay yet money flies into your pockets!”-Kevin It is arguably the best description of my life, post-STPM. Kudos to Kevin who doesn’t have any free time for his good pals, as he’s busy partaking in a sacred ceremonial rite with the opposite gender named ‘dating’. Hopefully in will stop being a one-way affair, with Kev unconciously chatting to an inanimate object rather than his precious princess.

A few days ago, my 'good pal'(extra emphasis on the '...') Jega told me there will be a futsal competition today. With all dignity thrown of the window, I decided to take this opportunity to make my 'talents' known to the outside world. With my agile feet, robust physique and suave personality I will be in Old Trafford in no time. Don't even mention about the golden boots. Ferdinand will be mesmerised by my 'Great Wall of China' move. He would, with all his years of proffesional play, be stunned into submission for its simplicity and grace. Imagine him right now, rolling around Highbury's greens with both hands clenched onto his ever shrinking forehead, struggling to gurgle in the last breath of his sane mind: "All those years of scurring from one side of the field to the other! All those months of intensive training and stuidous resolute! All those days spent in the gym flexing those triceps of his! All wasted for I do not know the wisdom of Soon Lee's flabby and inept metabolism!" "What is the 'Great Wall of China'?", you may ask. Also known as the 'Berlin Wall', 'The Great Wall of China" is the trouble-free yet effective way of seeding out those pesky strikers. It involves a fortitude of great virtues such as the compounded lazyness of a Form 6 student, the futile pessimism of STPM and the brick-laden ignorance of exam day and assignment deadlines. Now to reveal the tactic which make Bergkamps stutter, Ronaldos raging: Stand still like the tembok you are, and hope for the best. The first implication on your would-be opponent is bewilderment by your unorthodox style of play followed by a period of denial of what has happened. Finally, the decapitating sense of his own subconcious will invade his alredy dysfunctional concious self. The player will then be heaped with such paranoia that he will charge back and score an own goal. How about it? Okay, to be honest it only works in theory. But, isn't that enough? Alright enough about the author's sly handling. Now, back to the competition. As it turned out the match was to be held at 2.15pm. At around 12 pm, most of our local Real Madrid(Extra emphasis on the 'Real'. irony: this is the pirated version) team has arrived with the exeption of yours truly. As because he hasn't indulged in the vast multitude of cullinary delights out there in Penang, this leading star player was short of energy and so decided to have lunch. Participants include the ever devious left-front striker Yeoh Kee Chai with his harmless looking 'Chicken Walk' hat-tricks and headers. Not to be left behind is Viknesk Kumarr, known in Chelsea as 'Mutu' (pirated version) the overzealous defender with a reputation for his high 'it's-in-your-face' karate chops. Then there is the former school player, Boon-ho. With his surprisingly mobile yet innacurate (with the exeption of those directed at Kee Chai's face) kicks, he jolts managers and coachers alike into a deep stance of regret and loss. Oh yeah, there was Pok-Ban as well. Finally, the clock stikes 2.15pm Greenwich Mean Time+8. Yet because of the state of the economy as well as the deep poverty our team members are in, we decided to forfeit the game(despite the fact that we are world reknown footballers) and receive kudos from our wallets. We continue on vigilantly to pursue other modes of contest. The free-for-all rag tag St Xavier's courtyard would do just fine for our egalitarian method of doing things. Before you knew it, it was three o-clock and most of us decided to return to their respective houses. P.S:By the way, I met Wen Fong today in Parkson's. For those who do not know who Wen Fong is, he is another of my 'good pals' with a striking resemblance to Thierry Henry

Yes, rest assured. I'm getting lazier these days. Just a few weeks after this blog's official launch, signs of ineptitude has already ran rampant. One of its symptoms is a good ol' friend of mine. Procrastination. Yes, the thought of "Aiya, tommorow lah" has brought this blogger to a standstill. How embarrising. Others might contend with the problems of having "Writer's Block", but me? The lame excuse of giving rest to one more day. That is why I haven't been writing quite profusely. (read the numbers:only 3 entries for 3 months) Hopefully I will pick up the pace and get my ass into the commitment that's needed. With any luck I will be up next morning,my soul burning with desire and passion to start up the computer and compose the next Great Malaysian Blog. With a bit of diligence I may as well ignore breakfast and all those other distractions (such as bathing and brushing your molars to a clear gleaming blush) in the quest to pursue the ultimate expression of free will and creative spirit this side of the earth. As you can read above, blogging is an intensive, time consuming activity. Bloggers are not unlike artists, compounding personal visions and inspirations into public composition, restlessly believing and burdening themselves with presentation and effect. In other words, we do things that excuse us for not getting real jobs. Please be vigilant and stay tuned to this site. For tommorow holds the birth of a new literary Picasso. P.S:My buddy Viks just got himself a cellphone. Finally, the merciless serial SMS messenger had a victim!!

Yeeaaarrrgghhh!! I just love Howard Dean