BRAIN DEAD

Right now I really miss kickboxing, because I really need to hit something... hard.

This weird sense of nothingness has just been accumulating, like plaque in your heartvalves, and now I'm pretty damned close to a heart attack. I'm pretty sick of filling up forms, binding, printing, sending emails to people to ask them to fill up forms, typing, and other menial shit like that. Wait, pretty sick doesn't adequately reflect how intensely I feel about this.

I still do it, and every day, every menial shitty task takes me just that little bit longer, and makes me want to throw up and rip it apart just that little bit more. Another day, another notch inching towards the boiling point. Great.

This is really great. It's really GREAT you know. I mean, this is the Most Fulfulling Career in the World:

I FILL UP FORMS.

I PUNCH HOLES.

I TYPE LETTERS.

I SEND EMAILS.

I PUT THINGS INTO ENVELOPES.

I SIT IN MEETINGS AND TAKE NOTES.

...................


Can I just say... fuck!

HEART ATTAK

Shit.

Every time the little door thing beeps, I have a heart attack.

I'm thinking THERE IT IS. But then reality sets in and then it isn't.

I mean really. There's badminton like every week, why am I suddenly hyperventilating over this.

Maybe its the New Racquet Syndrome.

Oh yes, the New Racquet. I went into a store looking to buy shoe laces, and I came out with a new racquet, grip, string and a badminton bag... and of course laces. Man that is one helluva good sales person lady.

RELATIVITY OF TIME

It's almost 6PM. And I have badminton at 6PM. And I'm waiting for someone to give me a letter so I can be a very well paid (but unreliable... although theyst do not knoweth that yet) postal person.

So RELATIVELY speaking, time is just whizzing past me as I sit here, and hope the letter comes soon. God speed, and all the other little prayers that will make the words flow easier for the one who drafts it.

quickly quickly.

Oh there's the door.

shit. it's not the letter.

....

Maybe if I went upstairs and stood breathing at the doorway. I mean breathing really heavily.

Whoops there's the door again.

Shit. Not the letter again

Like I was saying, breathing really heavily, and staring beadily at the writer. I mean, the writer being a very very senior boss person, this also means that I'd probably get fired. But more importantly, I think I would make it to badminton only slightly late as opposed to missing the whole damn thing, which is what looks like is GONNE HAPEN.

RESOLUTION

Today, I'm going to do something different and try working for a change.

DEPREVATION: Day Two

Que?

The Nasi Lemak Man is still AWOL. Tried to make up for it by buying a subsitute packet nasi lemak (same price, about one-third the size) from wan tan mee stall (mistake) that was probably cooked about the same time I was born. Eating the pathetic little packet made me feel, very sad, very deprived, and very lonely.

Nasi Lemak Man. Please come back. I won't ask for extra sambal anymore ok?

Que? (mumble mumble) Panama.

I've been in a funk again lately. My life has seemed to gravitate towards some sort of stable plateau, which I find on one hand comforting and on the other hand insanely despicable (depending on how many drinks I've had).

Its the masochist in me I think. Always trying to upset the balance of my qi. MY QI ok?

But the root of the problem is, after 25 years of angsty soul searching, of running into walls, of setting myself on fire and crawling out from the dusty ashes, I still Do Not Know What I Want. Surely life cannot be, this simplistic. This routine, and this... mediocre.

You know?

I want to:

1. Join a political party
2. Busk
3. Represent Malaysia in the Thomas Cup
4. Run a marathon
5. Spend a week in Thailand
6. Steal the Sword of Justice from the Temple of Truth and Light and become a Caped Crusader of the Night and unleash the Wrath Of The Righteous upon the bag snatchers, kidnappers, spitters and rude people, starting with those on Jalan Bukit Bintang
7. Write a Pulitzer prize winning book, but decline to accept the prize as protest against "war"
8. Bring back the leatherback turtles
9. Set fire to my desk, and request for a new one, on account of the old one being charred and in bits
10. Travel back in time to Ming dynasty where I will invent flushing toilets and sashimi and be legend forever

i think that would make me a happier puppy

either that or the Nasi Lemak Man coming home to where he belongs.

FATE

As many of you may know (or not, you ignorant miscreants) the only thing that sets me apart from Eei Hui, our woman's national double badminton player, is the extra i and the lack of an e.

Of course, this slight oversight in naming has led to us taking very different paths in life, with me ending up as an overweight midget person trapped in a cubicle, and her as a national player in full blazing glory.

This can of course be attributed to the extra "i" she has: Incredible Badminton Super Power Player, and the extra "e" that I have: Ergonomically Challenged, which has brought us to where we are today.

And that is the thought that has consumed 62.7% of my thoughts today. 10% of my thoughts have been consumed by the Mystery of the Disappearing Nasi Lemak Man. My favourite nasi lemak guy, who scratches himself while using his hands to plonk timun into my nasi lemak is missing from his usual spot. It is a Mystery, and worthwhile of a full blown Investigation.

Normal people may dismiss this as a normal Ramadan incident, but NO. Someone has kidnapped my favourite Nasi Lemak Man.

Here is a list of prime suspects:

1. Char Siew seller in kopitam. Motive: because nobody wants to buy the gross looking wan tan mee when they have awesome nasi lemak

2. My father. Motive: he has been not so subtly pointing out the increasingly largening size of my tummy

3. Potrait painter on jalan bukit bintang. Motive: Dodgy looking bastard.

So there you have it... 72.7% of what has consumed my thoughts today.

FREAKINESS

I've discovered that my uncle, and my father (i.e. the "Brothers") have EXACTLY THE SAME HANDWRITING!

I dredged out a tiny piece of paper on which my uncle had written the blog addresses of my cousin that I had wedged away in my bag, and whoa... I had a weird moment there.

I find it strange that two people, despite being related, can have exactly the same handwriting.

The same block letters, with the same distinct curves.

It's very freaky.

On a good note, I'm playing badminton today (yay)

It is getting addictive. I'm sure this is what cokeheads feel like.

HMMM....

My boss has returned from overseas, and somehow I have a sneaky feeling that he knows I have been doing Absolutely Nothing since I returned.

Also he said, "I know you have alot on your plate now"

But he said it in a very smarmy way. And I gave him a look like Bambi being caught in headlights. I really have to cover my tracks better.

Does he read this blog? Does he? Does he? How can he?

If you are reading this blog, dear benevolent, awe inspiring, creative genius Boss Person, please know that I think you are incredible. Just incredibly good looking charming and smart and like wow... Perfect.

THIS IS 大 哥

So this is his hairy scary brother.

I suddenly have a lifetime membership tothe Old Aunty Panty Throwing Crowd.

And I didn't even know I joined.

sigh.

OBSESSION OF THE DAY

My obsession for today, is Fei Yu Ching.

The effeminate brother to the hairy scary guy on Da Ge Da.

What?

I disturb you?

I disturb MYSELF OK?

MY LIFE IS SO BORING

crap.

MY LIFE IS SO BORING

crap.

MY LIFE IS SO BORING

crap.

MY LIFE IS SO BORING

crap.

INFINITE SADNESS

Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Man, has died from a stingray barb to the chest.

It's really sad.


Also I'm a bit disturbed because someone forwarded me a picture, of a man, with his brain cut open, and tapeworms crawling all over, all because he had a little too many sashimis.

Dammit

SCHOLARLY ARTICLES

I am starting a new link to Scholarly Articles.

Here is my first contribution:

NRGW: An Exploration

3RD TIME'S THE CHARM

Ok... This will be like the THIRD POST today because, I am at work, and none of my bosses are. Meaning that this is a little bit like, you know, the week before exams, when I'm on my full-on procrastination mode because there's no one to frown disapprovingly at my slothful ways and general lack of enthusiasm for work.

I think for lunch I will have... chicken.

And maybe some...

ICE CREAM... mmmmmm

I really should go to the toilet, because I've really had to go for like the past hour, but for some reason, my innate slothfulness is just so overpowering, that I feel I would rather sit here, on my keister than go and relieve my suffering bladder.

Is this possible? I mean, psychologically? PyshicalL? (FIZIKALLY! PYSHICALLY!!! PSYCHICALLY!!!! PYSICALLY??? GODDAMIT how do you speel that damn word???) fizikally. I mean, is it really possible???

I have to post now, or the Blog Monster will come and eat this post, and it will be lost in the Underworld of Lost Unposted Blogs

I'M A BADMINTON-ER HEAR ME ROAR

Roooar!!!

SLEEPY

My brother has a blog!!!

www.code-poets.org/tierrie

I don't know how to do the linky thing, so just copy and paste that into the address thing on top of your browser like a good little citizen ok?

OK?

Anyway... was feeling so sleepy today, for some strange reason that I actually fell asleep in my car. What was a planned 5 min nap turned out to be a full blown hour snore fest. Which was not too bad because I woke up refreshed and ready to take on the WORLD.

And so after that I came to work, and went about promptly doing absolutely nothing. My bosses are all out of town. But they left me work. But knowing me, the work will be left sad and lonely in the tray until about thursday (because they get back on friday).

Hey hey!

I passed my exams.

So that makes me a bloody genius. Do you KNOW how HARD it is to pass an exam without studying???

I'm a genius! I can't help it.

I'm going to stay a "Genius" until I fail the next level. Then I'll come back down to Idiot Land where my roots are.