Two wrong statements

When 2 statements should not be put into the same sentence.

"Go toilet… (looking at me) Nak hisap?"

"Bro! You make it sound so wrong, wei! Never do that again!"

Baby Suit wanted to go to the loo, and planning to have a smoke after that.

Ubolt Sain

Was having a drink with Pilot 4+2 the other day.

Catching up and all lah. And so, watches came into the picture.



"Check out this watch brand – Ubolt."

"I didn't know Ubolt Sain came out with his own line of watches…"

"Wha… who?"

"The African athlete lah…"



Laughs came after the awkward silence.

He was talking about U-Boat watches.

And I got the runner's name wrong.

A 5-feet text

We were exchanging texts.



"How you feeling, beautiful?"

"I feel sick…"

"There's this girl here with a red cardigan… she look pretty."

"Really? Prettier than me?"

"As pretty as you… Well, I can't decide. I might fall in love with her if it's not because of you…"

"Oh, man… you are so easily seduced… not loyal! Now I have to think twice!"

"Of course not lah. Like I've said, I have you already."

"You better choose now!"

"I don't have to choose! I'm yours! I love you."

"Love you too, B."

"How you feeling, my love?"

"Feeling worse. Which is why I'm here. Can we cuddle now? And scare the people around us?"



I went over to her just two seats away.

Baby was at the clinic after work waiting for me to get her. When I got there, there isn't any seat left. It wasn't dramatic of me moving beside her, but it did confuse a couple nearby.

Yes. She's the only one in red.

Things that company can never sell to me #16

Anything 3D.

3D TV. 3D movies. 3D whatever.

The thing is, you'll need a 3D glasses to truly enjoy those. Which I don't. I'm a full time specs guy. And no, I don't wear contacts. So? I will have to wear that 3D glasses on top of my glasses. Which is fucking ridiculous – I look like an idiot – from being a sei ngai zai, to a luk ngan kuai.

Until they've invented screen which can project 3Ds without the need to wear cheat with an eye aid, no money from me.

Tick tock

You can never recover lost time.

But when you're missing someone so badly, and counting the days till they are back at your side, you rather have no time at all.

I have two favourite watches. Both are Tissot. One classic. One automatic. I'd always complain about the automatic one being too fast – over two minutes difference per week – as compare to the classic, my handphone, and the clocks on the iPad, PC, and office Mac. Even Slow White Poke's clock does not differentiate that much.

This is one of the only few instances I wish the time is not accurate at all.

And it's only two days since.

Argh!

Burnt butter croissant

I emit more body heat than most people do.

Baby wasn't the first who said I'm nice to snuggle during cold weather. But she's the first who complain on hot days.

I too, has an oily face. As much as I hated it, I can't do much about it. Have tried brands after brands of oil-control facial wash – make it even worse. Resolved in just using normal body wash or soap now. Or just periodically drown myself in water.

I understand why she gave me that nickname.

But I still don't get the "croissant" part…





Damn. I missed her already.

Day 1.

kmotwdbttyl

It is by far, my personal best.

No, they are not gibberish. I was meant to say,

"Okay. I'm on the way already, baby. Talk to you later."

The most concise text I've ever written.

Yup. She got it.

What's for lunch?

Had our banana leaf rice recently at Bangsar, after a long, long time.

Even longer for myself – when was the last time More Than a Cycle is still with us? It was even way back. No kaki to eat with lah! And we rarely had the chance to group up.

It was a long, orgasmic lunch. We came back with a heavy head, and bloated stomach. There goes a button. And so, we had a conversation about having a banana leaf restaurant here at the mall…

Hell, no! Handsome agreed, too.

What makes it special is it's not readily available at the mall. Craving for one would take an hour to have your first munch. This include braving out from the lunch congestion, looking for a parking spot that does not exist, intimidating other patrons for table like the All Blacks' Haka dance, and scavenging the menu for orders.

Yes! The exclusivity of it!

Many envy us for having to work in a mall.

Amenities, yes. We have everything. Food, no. We have too much of "finer" dinings that we, office dudes don't need. We always ended up to that same handful. So that the other handful would be a tad more… special.

Our daily "What's for lunch?" will always come with, "One of those lah…". And by "those" are the "handful".

Meals at a mall isn't cheap, too. You shoppers would know better. Having a 15-mark is common. This 15 is also the lower median. We can still find half-edible-half-full meal for 10. These are set lunches, mind you.

For a better 5-ish food, we can find at the food court. Which for numerous times, strongly rejected. This only work as tapao food. Tenants cook in the circulated air-cond environment – imagine your smell after lunch. Even tapao you need to have a skill of a grade-A assassin – identify, kill, go. 10 minutes. Flat.

And the grass is not any greener than your side.

Still

Still breathing.

No. I'm not occupied with love/life/work.

The PC gave way recently. But managed to salvage my files.

My other source of going virtual is at work, my father's computer, Sis' lappie, and the household iPads. Very inconvenient. It's not that the iPads are being used all the time, but writing stuff on it is damn tedious. Anyone of you tried writing a long-winded post with an iPad? You'll get the drift.

The Memoir of an Escort is written with the iPad. This update. So will be the next coming ones. Until I fix my comp. Until I have the cash. Until I have less commitments.

Fuck! Slow White Poke need a fix, too!

The Escort

Baby invited me to join her colleagues for karaoke.

I'm more of an instrument guy.

I pluck some strings, and blow – who doesn't? – the recorder in primary school. Not to mention the things from kindergarten. The triangle. The handheld, palm size wooden clapping thingy. And the wrist bell thing? I don't even know what all these called.

But when it comes to singing, it's a big no-no for me. Never was. Never am. Never will. Eventhough my subconscious violently refuse, I've tried. And failed that many times. Well… let's just give the show to the privileged.

Have I been to a karaoke place? Of course I had. I truly enjoyed it! By just listening. As an audience. At a corner of an unexplored section of the room. Devouring snacks. Drinks. While puffing smokes. See? By the list of things I've blurted out show that I really enjoy it. 

I admired well-sung songs. These talented bunch are amazing. And I'll just keep mums and endure the bad ones – I'm as suck-y if not worse – who am I to criticize?

In the karaoke scene, I'm the kind that mic-hoggers termed as "The Escort". The one that accompany a client sings in a dodgy karaoke joint before venturing into a lustful act. Not that I've been to any, but that's the closest to define me.

Yeah. Escort, me.

Karaoke outing cancelled by the way. Phew…

As much as you've reminded that you can't sing, you can never run away from, "Come lah! One only! Just try lah!" and other similar variance. And it will lead to the awkward silence and blushing towards the end of the first verse. First verse.

Oh. I hum while strumming the guitar, though.

And don't ask.

Yet another quickies

I'm penning this down on B's PC, at her cube, in her office.

For the past month, this is how we spent our weekends together.

Her agency's network is in the midst of conducting training for their new staffs. It's a global alignment - all agencies under the same network will have theirs in their country.  The classes fall on the weekend. A 9-to-4. Not inclusive of extra hours spent on discussions and assignments. To the end of November.

Being in advertising, long hours are given.

Some of the very little time we got to meet up is after work. That in mind, sometimes it's already near midnight, or long after that. And the least I could do in the weekend is to send her to the office, and pick her up after class. Occasionally, lepak in the office when I'm done at my place. Or spend that little short time cuddling in bed.

Yes. I'm longing for a hand-to-hand stroll at a crowded mall, a meal at a fancy yellow lighting restaurant, or even, a movie at a cinema - like all couples do. I know she's looking forward for the same too.

But it's all these quality times that made us appreciate the companion even more.

We termed this, yet again, not sexually, our quickies.

I'll be (s)watching you

I got my first Swatch 25 years ago. It was a gift from Father.

1987 was also the year I stepped into school. It has been a good companion throughout my primary days. Not to mention, the bragging rights and attention I(t) got - numberless watches are rare then, at least in my memory. Even I can't tell the time correctly. And look at the design. It's in during the mid-80s. No?

Not until recently I found out it's a ladies!

Talking 'bout the mid-midlife crisis, eh? Remember me being a "talent"? Retrostalgia strikes again. I've been searching for it...

I went to collect my Tissot at the Swatch Group this morning before heading to work. The auto-wind went cuckoo recently. Have to masuk kilang a couple of weeks lah. Since I'm there, I asked if they still make old models of Swatches, or had them stored anywhere. Just hoping high lah.

Attractive Attentive Malay lady, by the way. Hmm...

Anyway, they don't.

Swatch only make limited numbers of the same model. Even if you're looking to replace the strap on an older models, it's impossible. Unless you wouldn't mind changing to other strap designs.

Yes. I did write an email to Swatch. Thank you for asking. They tak layan me lah. I have yet to hear from them. I used my work mail, you know? Very professional on my side.

What happened to mine? They are disposable accessories, as quoted in Wiki. It breaks down. The strap snapped. The battery leaked. It turned yellow. Yes! The body is still in this house somewhere the last I saw it!

I guess some things are meant to be carved in memory. But no harm trying, right? I'll bug them again like how I bugged Brand's.

And there's no prize for guessing my age.

Diamonds & dogs

A friend posted this on Facebook,

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend. Dogs are man's best friend. What exactly these tell us?"

Being the... naughty me, I wrote...






























"Women like it hard. Men like doggy-style."



No offense to men and women out there ar.

Just trolling around.

Ay, ay, ay!

Photophobia.

Visually impaired.

Colourblind.



Is it me, or it's a curse for top creatives to work here? Is it a coincidence? Is there some sort of a paranormal calculations some where that made these people end up here? Suspicious, isn't it?



Shades.

Almost Blind.

Our new ECD.



All these people had eye problems.

Angpao vs. age

Nath inspired this.

Instead, I'm making a graph.







Agree?

Am I right?

I either got this from:

1. Pressing the arm against my body weight while getting up from bed. Or the floor. I thought I heard a snap.

2. Spraining the muscle from spending 3 days in a row sandpapering the excess putty on the front lip of Slow White Poke's bumper - a DIY moment gone wrong.

And this post was written entirely left-handed.











No, of course not. I cheated.

Another 16 hours to go.

Attracted to older women

We refer her as jeje, sometimes, kakak.

Being the most senior in the creative, she is no doubt, a big sister. Creatives who can survived telco clients, can technically do any accounts. She had six dealing with the Blue Telco.

Phoebe is one of the first senior creatives I met during my breakaway time from conventional agencies/design houses. She was with Ousted Brothers, when I went for an interview. Though I didn't get a stint there, over the time, she texted me of places that is looking.

Over here is the first time I worked with her.

A very nice lady indeed. Soft spoken. Easy to deal with. Rarely shows her temper. Attentive. Straightforward, yet constructive and thoughtful in her comments on works. A trait that many creatives do not have.

Two years passed. She's no longer with us. Will definitely miss the chats, jokes and "games" we played off-work. But we do keep in touch every now and then.

I was in the midst of knocking on new doors, and we caught up in Facebook. Got an interview with the CD there. Apparently, she was a buddy with the MD back when they were starting out! It's a small, advertising world. Nasib baik I didn't offend anyone before.

She was texting her MD-buddy. At the same time chatting with me.



"I don't mind pre-selling you 'cause you behaved well. Don't know why... I see you as a boy-boy..."



This really made me smile...





Did the title pop your eyes? Not in a sexual way, okay!

I find myself clinging closer to them. Being born the eldest, I've never had the chance to know how Bro feel - to have an older sibling looking after and protecting you. I've always wanted an elder sister.

I don't know... maybe it's my subconscious way of looking for security and comfort which I never had as a younger sibling.

Why not?

It was a fairly innocent trip. It was.

My ex texted to have her photos in Hat Yai removed.

People been questioning her of my "appearance" in the trip. Friends. Families. People. People with serong mind. People with cavemen thoughts.

What I don't understand is, why didn't she tell them she was going with me in the first place? I thought she did! I told mine! What's with the secrecy!? What is there to hide? Can't two people who were in a relationship before have a trip together?

We. Are. Friends. For fuck sake.

What perks me up is when she mentioned an average people would have any tagged photos removed on request, no questions asked. Out of... respect. I couldn't agree more. But not after months it was up there. Not after she was being pressured from the misunderstandings from her not telling anyone prior to that trip.

I didn't blame her. What some say of people still living in the past is not a myth.

And going out with your exes is still a taboo. Take note.

But the photos are there to stay.

Ever had this sensation before?

When you bump into a stranger who looked like a person you knew, in a place that s/he had never been, does it scare you? (I don't know how else to phrase this).

A sensation similar when you did something bad and got caught. You know, that kecut feeling? Like your heart sank.

Many had this feelings too, given the same scenario.

But why lah?

Mothers, and their worries

"Eh, you know your dad has a friend..."

"Uh huh..."

"Her daughter also works in advertising around [area], doing quite well..."

"Uh huh...?"

"30. Not seeing anyone..."



I knew where this is going!



"... (took me a while) and then...?"

"Maybe can intro her to you!"





I just ignored and continue staring at the TV, then into blank space.

Mother! I'm not that old. Most importantly, I am a guy.

Just because I was admiring the beauties in "Take Me Out Malaysia"?

Okay, okay... my bad...



Happy new year, people.