Worst time to knock off

Seeing the pubs closed isn't as sad as seeing them opening for business on the next day.

Gonna squeeze my bolster hard for the rest of the day.


The bush had gone

I have an uncle that treats us like his own sons.

More toys. More KFCs and McDonalds. More ice-creams and snacks. More soft drinks than Father would get. Even if we are over the board, he rarely scold or yell at us. Let alone, rotan us. More of him some other time, perhaps.

There is an empty land near his flats - made into a lodging space for construction workers, their lorries, and tractors. Every evenings, he will bring me to play there. To test drive the machines.
Oh. This was when I'm a few-year-old.

Not one I have missed. With me turning the big steering. Moving the long gear stick. Struggling to reach the pedals, tiptoed. Making sounds as if it's moving. Honking, pretending I'm yelling at others. As if I'm one of them. Even the levers on the tractors are not spared. Giving headaches to the workers next morning.

But there is one 5-tonner that I'm afraid of.

As any other evenings, I'm the construction worker. Braving the uneven red mud. Going towards my site. As I was "driving" it, I felt like someone is staring at me from the back. I turned to looked...

I jumped out, hugging my uncle, crying.

It was Sai Baba. With his famous Afro. Framed and hung at the headboard. I never go near that lorry again. I think it was the sight of the bush.

The closest I get to him was his photo. But it's enough to scare the hell out of a few-year-old.

Rest in piece.


Driving in Malaysia #32

Anywhere the tyre can touch, it's a race track.

The apex, or the racing line exist in any degree of bent on the road.

We will clip onto your lane.

A survival tips for the expats / foreigners / tourists who is planning to drive in Malaysia.



"Why you so daring?"


"You parked at a reserved spot!"

"Really ar!?"

"Really lah!"

This is the first time in months Diam-Diam came straight to me when she came in.

I went and check... I was indeed parked at a reserved spot!

Defining a whole new meaning of sleepwalking.


Peak of boredom #489

Bro asked in MSN,

"Eh, how to make a building transparent?"

"Build it with glass?"

"Photoshop lah!"

I'm grinning at the other end.

I knew what he meant.

Saja kacau.


Maybe I'm just tired

Few weeks ago...

I don't want to work through the third weekend. I rushed off as much on Friday so Monday wouldn't be so hectic for Tuesday's preso. It was nearly 4 am (Saturday. My definition is still Friday since I haven't sleep through the day yet).

Hours ago, the last person before me had left. Even Almost Blind who are prone to sleepover left.

Then it came.

Imagine how you call the Anehs at the mamak. "Chuet, chuet". Pouting lips suckling the air. Sounded soft. From the back where the suits are seated.

Oh, come on! Not at this time.

"I'm only here to work. I didn't disturb you."

My back started to tingle from the tip of my ass crack up to the nape. Then to the front of the neck, up to my cheeks. Like I just had sour oranges. I turn and look.

I continue my work. Thought to stay a little longer. This is the first time I felt so uneasy on things I don't believe. I can almost hear my own heartbeat. Nah, I better leave.

Even writing this gives me the same sensation.

Yeah. Maybe I'm just tired.



Buddy's place is looking for a new team!

This is where I've always wanted to be. What else could I ask for?

Got to meet up with the creative director and showed him my book. It went pretty well, but it is still too early to tell - I'm the first batch since their news of hiring. So, fingers crossed.

I called Buddy after I'm done. He was about to leave. Nice timing. And we went down for some drinks. It's been a while. Yeah, the usual stuffs of catching up. Ranting about our works. Especially clients.

We recalled a topic the last time we met.

At this agency, they have a liquor account. Almost every other agencies has an alcohol-related account. But what surprised me was, is how the Muslim staffs
(read, some) look at it.

All agencies has a studio. Where final artwork (FA) artists are placed. FA is where the last stage of an ad / design piece is made before it is send to the colour separators, printers, and suppliers. The Muslim FA artists at his place refuse to touch any of the work from that account.

"Tak halal!"

You read that right.

They won't do it even they are the only artists left in the studio. It really creates a problem.

Buddy is a man in faith. Holy, and has strong believe in Islam. Never miss his prayer, even there is no mosque or surau around. He'll just lay a mat in the office facing the arah kiblat, and start to pray. Even he is taken aback by their responses.

A portion of their pay, and/or bonuses are from that account. Would taking off a percentile from their pay justify their faith? And would they keep mums about it after their pay was justified? I'm sure no one will.

In that case, in what context they meant by tidak halal?

To me, it was more of an excuse to work less.


What a tease

I was accidentally tagged in a post. It was removed soon after. Not a chance to even catch a glimpse of it. So, couldn't be bother lah.

Then, the nightmare comes.

Even my name wasn't in, notifications kept popping up at the lower left corner every few minutes! Which kinda bothers me. So, I tagged them in my status.

"Here's the thing. I was accidentally tagged by Canadian? And it was removed. Somehow, I got notifications when people commented on it. Specifically Second Time Intern and Bunny Intern. I kept getting notifications on something which I can't see! At all! Guys, was that some kind of a tease?"

"Nah... it was just research materials for me and Bunny Intern... =)"

The "just" sounded suspicious. Not to mention the smiley.

I shouldn't have tease you-know-who-you-are so much with my post titles. Karma is biting back at the ass. Ouch.

Facebook is full of bugs and glitch.