Thursday, December 24

cameronian cranks

During my travels of late, I happen to notice that the women of Cameron Highlands generally have perfect complexions and willowy figures, characteristics that are highly prized by men. Therefore, I would like to urge readers who are looking for some high-altitude hanky-panky to extend their search hill-ward. Of course, I do not know if said beauties are partial to said hanky-panky, so that is something the reader should undertake at their own risk. The returns, however, are pleasurable. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the men.

Also, I would like to caution the inhabitants of a certain hotel about the towel rails in the bath. Do not drape the towels across the aluminium rod. Roll it and balance it on top. You do not want to yank too hard on said aluminium rod when you are still luxuriously steaming like a boiled lobster. The rod will come off and bounce right onto your foot to stamp a circle of blood like a cookie cutter cuts out a gingerbread man.

My blood staineth a twin of thee

And when your reflexes disregard the fact that you are in a wet bathtub and make you step back from the source of bodily injury, you invariably gain much more injury, in the form of a bruised butt and the cold hard steel of the bathtap trying to fuse with your spine.

Which is why I wonder why I have so many lustful couples as fellow lodgers. Ah. They probably never use towels. But there sure was a lot of them making out behind me as I poke the fireplace in the lobby. Toe-wrestling at the bar. Playing tag around the fountain. The brother was highly amused and would try to take pictures. In a particularly embarrassing incident, the whispering newlyweds started hugging in the lift. The brother snorted, pointed, elbowed me in the ribs, and I started laughing. Probably because the guy was shorter than the girl, but still. I feel like I have placed myself at a sub-oceanic level of maturity.

There you go, Yan. I am still capable of saying something without mentioning anime and manga. Aren't you proud of me?

Monday, December 7

cloudy concerns

The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Frankly, I've never really clicked with Albom's books because they need way more than seventeen years of (rather dull) memories to really strike a chord. But I am rather fond of the idea that you'll find out who really mattered to you in the end. It's a form of closure I've always expected Heaven to give. Not ideal, of course, but it is worth mulling over a hot cup of Milo.

It might sound a tad dramatic, but I couldn't finish the damn Milo today because I started wondering who will meet me in Heaven. Who will I matter to, in the end? Who will need me for a bit of perspective of their life?

Sadly, even if I greatly exaggerate my importance in any part of any person's life, I still cannot see myself as much of an influence on anyone. "Hey Suiying! I knew I'd be seeing you here! The way you complimented the lecturer taught me about sarcasm and it totally changed my life!". Not happening. Not even if God decided to stretch the number to 10.

Ah well. Guess that means I don't have to break from any ethereal ecstasies I will be enjoying.

I suppose if I really want someone to meet me, I can adopt a Somalian baby and give him electricity and homework instead of letting him yohoho his life away on the open seas. But that feels a bit like cheating, no?

I also like Albom's notion of Heaven because he never mentioned a Hell.

Tuesday, December 1

surprisingly useful side effects

When I was talking to a boring old lady today, I found a new ability. I made her talk in Japanese! So her droning about her precious son turned into sweet flowing Japanese pattering. Ahhh. Such a pleasant way to tune out.

Next, I'll try inserting subtitles.

She gave me oranges and told my aunt I was intelligent.

HAHA.

Thursday, November 26

while waiting for FMA25 to buffer

I have been uncharacteristically happy for the past 3 weeks. This worries me because in my experience, periods of happiness are generally followed by proportionate periods of sadness. Then again, this might be a reward for the horrible month of October. Hmmm. Let us be optimistic here. No reason to worry about the results for finals I have yet to check.

I have decided not to work for the holidays because I know I won't be able to wake up and my parents would much rather chew on wood than let me work the night shift. Also, they wouldn't let me drive to work. But really. Me? Working? Punching in? Smiling when I say 'Good morning'? Having lunch at some random coffee shop alone while thinking about ways to improve my performance? Nah, can't see it. In fact, I can't see how I'll be going through adulthood, but that's a totally different story.

So what am I doing since I'm not working? I'm helping my brother improve his essay-writing, since it was the only service of value that I could proffer to the shrewd landlady we will call my mother. She's a 45kg, 1.5m tall specimen many would call 'gentle' but she does have full control over my dinner. In her defense, the meals have been excellent, but one can never know what a scorned woman can do to one's rice. So I shall not scorn her, and sacrifice an hour of my time trying to follow the thought processes of a 13-year-old boy I have helped raise.

Other than that, it's been all day fun and play for this irresponsible person. Yes, I have been totally enamored with Fullmetal Alchemist lately and no one is more surprised than my dear Yan Ming. I bet she feels like she doesn't know me anymore. But Yan, FMA is not Sailormoon, okay? For one, it's cool. It has ouroboros tattoos and advanced prosthetics. It also has a sparkly man with actual guts. Also, the lead has issues with his lack of height (an issue that, sadly, we can relate to). So, Read it! Watch it! Then we can plot the death of homunculi and the rebirth of a new Amestris! Oh, and if anyone's thinking of getting me a serious gift, I am expecting a replica of Edward's cape. Shameless, I know.

Everyone should be familiar with my tendency to criticize. So. 2012. I saw 4 people die. In a movie about the apocalypse. I shall shudder in my bunker tonight. I suppose you can't really put too much blood and gore if you want to get a PG-13, but seriously. You're talking about the end of the world. I need to feel that a lot of people died. Sure, you had detailed infrastructure damage, but you still need bodies decorating the sidewalk. Also, zero hot guys. Well, I suppose the Indian scientist was cute, but he had a family. Script was unnoticeable, but for one. Referring to a ginormous plane, Yuri Karpov said "It's Russian." with so much pride that one cannot help but wonder if he was talking about the plane. Ah. My tendency toward juvenile derision is satisfied. Also, a giraffe flying through the Himalayas. Precious.

I should probably go to bed now. Don't want to be late for potential conference with a tired Bugger at 11 am.

Thursday, November 12

a rather comprehensive list

CHOOSE YOUR DRINK
HOW MUCH DO YOU WEIGH?
GIRL OR GUY?

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