Every Tuesday (Every Tuesday)
You’ve nothing to do (You’ve nothing to do)
Get off your ass and stop whining
about Monday blues (about Monday blues)
Come to Hartamas (come to Hartamas)
Orange’s the name (Orange’s the name)
Of a pub where geeks congregate
for pub quiz; are you game? (nerd)
Despite my cool, hip and very happening appearance (yes, I know I am conceited), on a bi-weekly basis, a few of my friends and I meet up to take part in the geekiest activity possible-pub quiz.



The quiz that I attend is held in a pub called The Orange. Which is, surprise, surprise, very orange.



Supposedly pub quiz is a British phenomenon which probably explains why a fair amount the regulars are expatriates. Most of them seem to be English with a sprinkling of Aussies, Europeans and one very obnoxious American.

Assuming you’d like to be part of this super elite and very atas-ourselves group, you’ll first need to form your geek team.

Your team should compromise of at least 4 people. I recommend you bring more people (up to 8) if your team collectively is not that smart. Remember the saying, 2 geeks are better than 1.




This is Slinky’s anyhow-simply-write guide.

1. Firstly gather all your friends who fit the below description:

• Someone who’s auditioned to be on game shows like, Who Wants To Be A Millionaire and Roda Impian

• A bespectacled librarian

• A bookworm-especially one who reads newspapers, dictionaries, encyclopedias and biographies

• A couch potato-especially one who likes Channel News Asia, CNN, Discovery and National Geographic.

• An IT geek-someone who knows about the latest gadgets, assembles his own PC, plays DOTA and worships Bill Gates.

• The loser who scored A1 for Sejarah

• A sports junkie

• A movie freak

• A music lover

• Someone who’s well traveled. Stewardess included.

If you’re a librarian who plays chess and DOTA, you should now have about 50 friends to chose from.

If you know all the bars along Asian Heritage Row like your mother’s maiden name, you’ll probably have no friends to chose from, expect maybe some stewardess friends. Skip step number 2, and proceed to con your friends into thinking it’s a great way to meet smart chicks/guys.



2. Selection process.

Next you’ll need to select the best people for the job. The quiz could be about anything under the sun but there are reoccurring subjects, so you'd want experts on the fields below:

• You’ll need someone who’s big on sports. Take note that soccer does not equal sports. Your sports geek will not only need to know how many times Liverpool won the UEFA cup, he’ll need to know about rugby, tennis, cricket, the rules of lawn bowling and former Olympic winners.

• You’ll need someone who is familiar with Geography. Air stewardess seems to fit the bill, but first ask them this question-Which city is farthest north? Tokyo, Seoul or Shanghai. A friend who worked for SIA answered Tokyo. Needless to say she’s not in our very atas team.

• You’ll need a Kay Poh Chi, someone who’s very into the life of others. She’ll need to know who Madonna is having an affair with, who Tammy from NYP is, who’s Paris Hilton’s new best friend, whose breast are recently enhanced and which soccer player is being charged for rape.

• You’ll need someone who is into movies and music. This person should preferably be 35 years and above of age. This is because most questions are about 70’s and 80’s movie and music.


• And lastly, someone who reads the news and knows which ministers has been reshuffled, what’s Tamiflu etc etc

Other popular topics include books, history, science, cars, and comics so get team members who are strong in those areas. Please do not turn up in a team bigger than 8, the ang mohs can be quite kiasu.


3. Select a team name

Next you’ll need to give your geek team a name. I.E Geek fest, Geek Out, ReGeek, Geekbiza, Geek Parade. My personal favorite is Titan Uranus.



4. Understand the Game format

• There are usually 8 rounds on different topics, 10 questions per round.

• Questions are usually projected onto a screen.

• The quiz masters (usually the geek team which won the quiz before), will come around distributing answer papers, which will be handed up at the end of each round.

• Each team will then be asked to select a Bonus round. Select the round you feel most confident with. Marks obtained during this round will be doubled.

• The winning team will win a bottle of wine, a bucket of beer and prepare the questions for the following pub quiz.


5. Show me the money

• Each participant needs to pay RM10, which includes break time snacks. Yummmmm.



I think this is my longest post ever. It is also my first guide to promote a healthy activity which contributes to personal and mental development.
Alright people sing with me, "Don't Cha Wish Your Girlfriend Was A Geek Like Me?" *** slaps own ass*** "Don't cha"

I was pretty tipsy when the bouncer waved me into Rush. I glared at Derrick for dragging me into such a poser place on a Friday night without having the decency to book a table. It was the good thing I had a bottle Chardonnay Sauvignon with Janice before Derrick’s driver came to get us.

We made our way to the bar, Aaron was waiting for us. He leaned over to kiss my cheeks and then Janice’s, and quickly mixed us some gin and tonic. I downed a couple of glasses as fast as I could before heading to the dance floor with Janice.

The dance floor was packed but so was the bar, and I’d rather be dancing than standing around looking bored. The music was crap but it didn’t bother me. Alcohol, in the right doses, can make even a Christmas carol danceable, unless of course the club starts playing Chinese Ah Beng pop songs.

We made our way back to the bar for more alcohol. Aaron was getting irritatingly touchy, and my feet were starting to hurt; it was one of those days I had a lapse in better judgment-I wore high heels. Thankfully, Janice spotted an empty table encircled by a nice lounge couch. When we got closer we realized it wasn’t exactly empty. A half full bottle of Martel, a jug of coke, some semi-full glasses and one bored looking dude littered the table.

“Could we share this table with you?” Janice seductively asked.

“Sure” he said, in an unmistakably Aussie accent.

Janice sat next to him and I sat next to her. Janice and Aussie dude, John seemed to get along, and I had a place to rest my feet and sober up. Three of us were merrily engaged in small talk when a slim, very annoyed and jealous looking Malaysian chick showed up. I instantly sensed she was not happy with what she felt as competition. She took her place, next to him and glared at Janice when she noticed that John was holding onto Janice’s name card.

Sensing that this could get ugly, I swapped places with Janice and made small talk to jealous chick. I asked is she frequented Rush and asked for her number; maybe we could go clubbing one day, oh, where did you buy your top? Blah, blah, blah. That probably helped diffused the situation. She asked me if we wanted the table, “they” were leaving soon. I got Janice to transfer Derrick and our bottles over while jealous chick dragged John off.

The Canto Pop session stopped and I was back on the dance floor. A few minutes later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was John.

“Hey, could I have your number?”

“Sorry, I don’t carry my business cards out on weekends.”

“Just tell me what it is. I am good with numbers, I won’t forget it.”

I don’t know what made me do it, “01X-XXXXXXX”.

He kissed me on the cheek, and left.

For someone who hates Rush, wears Addidas to clubs, and never ever gives out phone numbers to strangers, there must have been some form of divine intervention that night.

That is how I met my current love.

My mum looks at me disapprovingly.

“Girl, why don’t you wear high heels with that suit? You’ll look slimmer and taller”.

“Ma, it’s because I don’t want to notice bald spots on top of men’s heads”.


I don’t wear high heels. YES, I know it accentuates the calves and causes the hips to sway ala-Beyonce. And YES I know men find it sensuous- I just can’t wear them.

3 reasons why Slinky don’t/can’t wear high heels

Penguin syndrome
To look graceful in high heels one first needs to walk elegantly. Experts recommend keeping your legs straight and taking smooth even steps while swinging your arms for balance.

The problem with me is that I don’t walk, I waddle. I walk with short steps that tilt the body from side to side. Think penguin.



Now imagine a penguin in high heels.

Broadfan
Some women have narrow feet, or toes which are significantly shorter than the one next to it. This enables them to easily fit into high heel footwear with either regular or long-pointed toe boxes.



My feet are what I would like to call Broadfan. They’re broad and my toes spread out like a fan. Wearing a pair of court shoes, for example, would mangle and crush my toes against the insoles.

Would you like to be stuck in between two 180kg men (their thighs spilling under the arm rest into your seat), on board an AirAsia flight bound for Canada?

I knew you’d share the same sentiments as my feet.

Calflinks


For very little leg, I have a lot of calf. Anything which accentuates my calves will make my short legs look chunkier then they already are. Enough said.

How do I fall? Let me count the ways.



Midvalley’s fire escape? Check
Escalator in KLIA which leads to the express train? Check
Office wee-wee room? Check
Outside the mamak in Telawi, Bangsar? Check

As it stands, I am a klutz extraordinaire in flat shoes. High heels can only mean more comedy for onlookers and more bodily harm for myself. I wish to egt through life without breaking my collar bone. Pray for me Betty.

And last but not least. The main reason why I don’t wear high heels:

I consider high-heeled shoes a tool of female oppression, constraining our movements and behavior as much as possible.

Okay, I admit, I just couldn’t be bothered, I look good enough without them ;P

I take a deep breath and hesitantly walk into the bar. My eyes instantly find him. He looks up, sensing my eyes on him, and grins widely. I walk over and sit myself directly opposite him. It has been so long, but not long enough.

“Hello, Bruce. How have you been?” I enquire as the waiter brings me my usual two glasses of whiskey.

“Good! And you must be enjoying you work life. I heard you’ve been doing well”.

“Yeah, work’s been great”.

“I’ve been the total opposite”, he volunteers without me asking. “I prefer learning instead of climbing the corporate ladder. I am studying law now and I’ll be changing jobs soon, maybe to a new unexplored industry. I only live once, and won’t want to die as a specialist”.

I pause for a moment thinking what best to say. “Don’t you learn new things at work? Are you bored of your job?”

“Yes I learn, but after knowing their thoughts, I feel they’re only concern with their personal job issues while disregarding what is happening out there. I want more”.

“Bruce, there is no reason to be in business if not to make a profit...

He cuts me off, “that’s why cooperate is killing the world. No offence but they are the new power force, dominating and controlling people. Demanding that we follow their pace. Since young, we’ve been brainwashed and taught the way of life they want us to lead”.

At this point, a waiter walks pass and I grab the chance to order another 2 knit whiskeys. God knows I’ll be needing it. I hoped the little diversion would change the topic but it didn’t.

“That’s why I am learning from different industries. I want to see as much as possible better setting my own route. In the meantime, I’ll settle with their bowl of rice while building my own knowledge before striking back”.

Since I’ve broken up with Bruce, I’ve been told, he’s gotten very philosophical. I was now witnessing it first hand.

“Oh”, he continues, I heard you’ve found a nice guy”.

“Yeah, he’s a babe”.

This was an area in my life I didn’t want to openly discuss, especially with Bruce, but I was grateful for the change in topic.

“How about you? Have you been seeing anyone lately?” I asked.

“I prefer the single life. Too many dreams to achieve”.

“Good for you” I reply.

“I am seeking self improvement in every area but mostly intellectual without boundary, without conventional thinking and freedom to explore. See more, hear more, and conceive all before I die, hopefully. Rules and regulations are written by human, so eventually it should be and will be corrected by human as well”.

I was stunned. How the fuck does someone respond to a statement like that? I reacted in the only way I knew how-by waving my arms madly in the air, trying to flag down a waiter for 2 shots of tequila.

“Make sure my glass is never empty”, I whisper in his ear while slipping him a fiver. “After these two, I want 2 glasses of red wine”. He looks over at Bruce, and understandingly nods.

“You should start your own business”, Bruce continues.

“I plan to one day start my own business. I am just not sure what I want to do yet”.

“Hmmmm, get a few bankers, involve a few economic experts and some local sales people to create a venture capitalist company”.

“Errrrmmmm…that’s not really my thing, plus my Daddy doesn’t print money. So you want to be a VC?”

The waiter comes back with my 2 tequilas, which I down successively.

“Yes. Which is why I am studying law”.

By the now the alcohol was starting to hit me and I was getting really agitated, which made me argumentative and opinionated.

“Do you know what I think is important to be a VC?” I asked. “Gut feel…the ability to predict a certain craze, a killer app, the latest trend, before it happens”.

“This prediction can be done through philosophy guidance”.

“Har?”

“Philosophers always create theories that’s is bound to everything. Everything in life have inter connection between each other, whether they aware or not”

My blood was starting to boil. “Okay, give me an example. Tell me of a product or idea which is going to take the world by storm, based on your philosophical knowledge.”

“Whatever we learn to do, we learn by actually doing it; men come to be builders, for instance, by building, and soccer players by playing soccer. In the same way, by doing just acts, we come to be just; by doing self-control act, we come to be self-controlled; and by doing brave act; we become brave”.

“And how does THIS relate to the next big thing?”

“Every moment, every blink, is composed of series of discrete moving parts, and every one of these parts offers an opportunity for intervention, for reform and for correction. Knowledge, alone, is not power. Great personal power is acquired only through the harmonious cooperation of a number of people who concentrate their efforts upon some definite plan. The next big thing requires a group of people by selection, to discuss and combine each knowledge to form an idea. VC’s will be a great business to start up this team. An open mind to what our life can become is all we need to make our visions into reality. VC is perfect in many ways, help current small business owners, help unemployment, help the government. One of a very important theories of success in philosophy: must produce advantage to everyone involved from every angle. Selfish man are those who live only for self, and usually they prefer to live their lives in company with others who, likewise, believe in living only for self”.

At this point, I was pretty tipsy and yelled “Oh my god, stop rambling! You are quoting so much nonsense I don’t know who I am talking to”.

“I quoted myself; master yourself before mastering the world.”

“Oh God”.

“Understand yourself before understanding your goal”

“Here we go again”.

“My principles, help me…”

“I can’t take it anymore, sorry” I said abruptly. In a blink I was out the door, driving home.

I wish Bruce all the best, and hope that night taught him a new philosophy: Never let one who can drink like a bull, walk out on you without paying the bill.

A few nights ago, a very horny and deprived friend of mine wanted to bang a few hookers (yes, more than one) and I felt obliged to send his poor stranded housemate home. His housemate was this slim, well-spoken, attractive and very confident single 38 year old lady who was a senior manager for a publishing company. During the long drive to her place, we had quite a lot to chat about.

She recently walked out of another dead end relationship. She told me that as she matures, she's learnt not to put up with nonsense. I totally agree-there is no point being in a relationship with someone just for the sake of companionship. That's what pets are for.

“Marriage is overrated.”

“Agreed. Men are such scums. I can’t believe some of them have the cheek to remove their wedding bands the minute they see an attractive girl”.

“Tell me about it. I recently found out this dude who’s trying to date me, is married. I am not particularly surprised but I hate it when men try to deceive. I don’t see the point in them lying, women so familiar with the scum which is men, we half expect it.”

“At least if they come clean, I could maybe spare a charity fuck”.

“I believe in being the hunter, not the hunted”.

“Yeah. Use them and abuse them”.

“I think men are intimidated by women who know exactly what they want and isn’t afraid to say it”.

“No wonder men steer clear of me; I let them know when they don’t match up against my trusty vibrator”.

"Who needs men? We are the new breed of women-confident, independent, promiscuous.”


By the end of the ride, I knew how many married men she’s slept with and she knew my favorite KamaSutra position. It seemed like we've known each other for ages.

“Thanks for the ride Slinky. Let’s meet up again soon. I had fun talking to you”.

As I watched her walk up her apartment steps, I imagined the big, cold, empty bed she’ll sleep in tonight. I imagine her preparing her frozen dinner, while watching reruns of Sex in the City. I respect her for putting up a strong front. She showed no signs of desperation, and the least I could do was play along, for tonight I’ll return to a home cooked meal, prepared by my lovely chef in sexy boxers. He’ll help me carry in my notebook bag, before giving me a warm hug. When I look at his silly grin and my yummy chicken salad, I can’t help but gloat.

It has been almost three years since I’ve turned my back on substance abuse. The 3 months that followed, were perhaps the most testing times of my life. When I lived on drugs, it was a form of self medication. It helped me regulate my emotional turmoils, my bouts of depression and lack of self worth. It made me feel so good. When I look back now, I know that it was merely a distraction; everything felt so intense-sex, music, food, even watching Window’s screensaver was mind-boggling. I understand why people find it so hard to quit drugs. Cliché as it may sound, its “hard to come back to earth, once you’ve been to heaven”.

Overcoming my addiction has made me a stronger person.

I shudder when I think of what I could have become if I had continued on my path of self destruction. I thank my lucky stars that I had trustworthy friends who did not violate me during the times I’ve been fucked to the point of unconsciousness. I hazily remember Patrick. This chubby dude who carried around a Ventolin inhaler, because he knew sometimes I’d have a reaction to the stuff that went up my nostril. Granted, there were other asthmatics like myself who ended up needing it. I was so close…I nearly threw my life away…

I am so proud of myself for each and every day I’ve led a clean life. Each passing day is a step away from my dark past into a promising future.

But there are days like today, when the temptation is just oh, so strong... It’s just a puff, just half a pill, just one line…just one step away from heaven, from ecstasy, from the beginning, from the end.

Slinky's picture of the day: Picture of Irene Ang taken in November at an eBay event.



"OMFG, looking at your site meter dam depressing. Fuckingfortyseven hits a day nia! Eh, why you even bother to blog? Wahlau eh, ask your friends to support a bit lar….. Har? What? Your friends don’t know you have a blog? Sigh. Tiu lor, like that means no hope.

I tell you why your blog so low traffic, it’s because hor, you don’t have a niche. You see all those famous bloggers, they all have some sort of niche one. Like this Kenny Sia, his specialty is in making people laugh at him. And XiaXue is her amazing Photoshop skill. Rockson ler, is famous for his big cock and politics. You don't know who is big-horse Rockson? You know Jeff Ooi or not? Yeah something like that, but not boring and alot of sex. You pulak, is about everything. Sometimes funny, sometimes got sex, sometimes boring, sometimes serious, sometimes got relationships sometimes got video, sometimes not video, sometimes got photo of pussycat…. Your kinda blog only your own friends or maybe an admirer will read one.

Anyway since you are Jack of all trades, master of none, there is another tactic i want to share with you. If you want people to read your blog, you need to post pictures of yourself. You see like that Fireangel chick, wah, post a few pictures, shoot video of herself playing with white stick, now got a huge following liow. I also like following her. Actually you are okay looking, maybe you need some Photoshop skill and diet, then can post your picture liow. I also like this Linda Chia chick. Thanks for the link. Now that I bookmark her URL liow, I don’t need to look for your site then connect to hers. Actually I can remember it, not need bookmark also. Linda Chia, such a beautiful name.

Anyway my final tip for you to get more readers is to give them something. People don’t do things for free; it must be motivated by something. For example give them links to porn, illegal music, jokes,.etc…Maybe can also consider some free movie tickets. Eh I also heard from Thomas you give good tips on how to pick up chicks, and that your joint rolling technique is quite unbeatable. Share some of your skills lar! Eh, no, no, not your cooking skills. Please lar, your cooking cannot pakai one lar.

Eh, eh, eh, where you walking off to? Don’t angry, don’t angry lar. Eh, fuck lar, who is going to pay the bill like that?"

Dear VIP in the tinted chauffeur-driven BMV escorted by two traffic policemen,

Last night, as I and hundreds of other motorist laid stuck in the rush hour jam, aggravated by the rain and impending Thaipusam celebrations, you merrily asked your uniform-clad cronies to turn on their sirens and force the rest of us motorist to make way for you to pass.

What gives you the right to ask me to move aside? Do I not pay the taxes which help the government to build the road I drive on, not to mention your paycheck and the paychecks of the two policemen you used to help you "jump the queue"? Throughout my entire drive back yesterday I did not encounter a single traffic police other than the four (on two separate occasions) which were use to make way VIPs like yourself. Shouldn't they be helping to ease the congestion instead of making sure you'll make it to your mistress's Bangsar apartment in time for a quick shag before rushing home to you unsuspecting wife and children?

Oh, and since we are the subject of jumping queue, I would like present this screenshot taken from the Ministry of Road Safety's website. Please read it carefully, you might learn something.



Also, click on this image for the TV commercial on the same matter.



If our nation's leaders and ministers cannot heed their own advice, please don't preach to me about road safety. I am sick of living in a country with double standards.

Signed,

Someone who writes her own speeches and presentations, knows that Google is not an internet browser, eBay is not an online store, and does not own a subsidiary company which gets paid a "management fee" for doing nothing other than placing a phone call to the "right" people.

Side note: While i was searching for suitable images for this entry, I googled "Malaysian Police" under google's image search. Guess which well known Malaysian blogger's picture appears in the first page of the results?

Picture of the day: Every calorie counts!




I got stalked by some guy from my gym a while ago. Actual MSN conversations as below.

Slinky: okay anyway there was once i was walking out of the gym after workout

H3nry: ok..'

Slinky: then i heard this guy calling out a chick’s name dam loud

H3nry: ok

Slinky: "Nancy!!, NANCY!!!"

H3nry: :-O

Slinky: and the next thing i knew, the fella tap me on my shoulder

H3nry: omg

H3nry: haha

Slinky: he was like "Nancy, it me!!"

Slinky: i was like "errrr, wrong person lar"

H3nry: :-O

Slinky: "eh, so sorry, you look so much like my friend. where u work?" blah balha blah

Slinky: then sohai me exchange name cards with him

Slinky: then he started smsing

Slinky: trying to fix date

Slinky: so i told him i am married

Slinky: staying with parents in law

Slinky: but still he sms once in a while...

Slinky: never saw him in gym after that

Slinky: then my hp lost mar

H3nry: omg!!

H3nry: yea...

Slinky: so good mar

H3nry: geeze....

Slinky: then

H3nry: yea...

H3nry: who is that... so sad

Slinky: no no haven’t end my story

H3nry: :-O

Slinky: so anyway after that i didn’t see him for a long time....then one day, i saw him from a distance in my gym

Slinky: so i quickly walked into the shower cause he cant follow mar

Slinky: after i showered

Slinky: i cepat cepat walk out..

Slinky: down the stairs...out the gym doors...didnt hear anyone following me

Slinky: phew...

Slinky: so i picked up my phone...

Slinky: started calling my mom

Slinky: slowly walk down to the car park...then

Slinky: suddenly...

H3nry: :-O

Slinky: a hard tap on my shoulder... "AMY!!! AMY!! its YOU!!!

Slinky: i was so shocked i screamed so dam 999 loud

H3nry: :-O

Slinky: cause i tot i was alone mar...some more walking to car park

Slinky: dam freaky

Slinky: and it was kinda late

Slinky: and no one around

Slinky: "Ermmm i am not AMY"

Slinky: "eh, so sorry, you look so much like my friend AMY where u work? we must have meet b4"

Slinky: and he asked me for my number...

Slinky: and i gave him my old name card

Slinky: the one with the old number

Slinky: i was kinda freaked lar...so didn’t wanna offend him

Slinky: after that he said he will call me

Slinky: but number wrong mar

Slinky: so avoided gym for a while

Slinky: didn’t see him again until today

Slinky: sigh

Slinky: going for lunch

Slinky: ttyl

Slinky: then i continue part 3 of the story

Note: part 3 copied and pasted from another conversation.

fuah: you got stalked? when??

Slinky: this morning

fuah: waaahh what happened?

Slinky: this weird guys has been trying to get my phone number from gym

Slinky: today when i was driving to work

Slinky: i stopped at a red traffic light

fuah: guys?? you mean there's a bunch of them??

fuah: and then?

Slinky: guy

Slinky: sorry guy

fuah: ok ok

Slinky: then i looked in my side view mirror and saw someone getting down from the car behind me

fuah: then??

Slinky: i didn’t realise it was him

fuah: omg!

fuah: then???

Slinky: and i tot maybe my boot was not close and he came to tell me

Slinky: anyway

fuah: yesh?

Slinky: i wind down my window

Slinky: and immediately i realise who it was

fuah: man you shouldn't have done that

fuah: what did he do?

Slinky: he looked at me and said "Hi"

fuah: omg

Slinky: "i've meet u b4 right"

fuah: ultimate stalker pickup line

Slinky: "my name is Berry"

Slinky: "i just came back from Australia"

fuah: berry?....omg...ultimate stalker fag name

fuah: omg...

Slinky: "if i am not mistaken u are Jennifer right?"

fuah: ..........

Slinky: i was like "no"

fuah: then???

Slinky: then he said "oh, really?"

Slinky: "yeah, i am not Jennifer, never meet u before" **winds up window

fuah: thennnn??

Slinky: "wait, wait, why don’t you give me your number? can i call you?"

fuah: omggggggg

fuah: then?

Slinky: "no"*** window closes

fuah: my god...at that point i would have jammed on the accelerator!!

fuah: eeeee

fuah: then then??

Slinky: and bang the car in front of me??

fuah: oh ya

fuah: ,,,

Slinky: the road is two lane

Slinky: so next to me directly was another kelisa

Slinky: so there was a gap in between me and the other car

Slinky: STALKER drove in between me and the other kelisa

fuah: >__<

Slinky: so was on my left...

fuah: ...so freakyyyyy

Slinky: waving at me...smiling

fuah: ............................

fuah: *hair stands*

Slinky: traffic light turned green and i drove off dam fast

fuah: did he give a chase??

Slinky: no

Slinky: phew
fuah: ....

Slinky: :'(

fuah: omg...you better be careful la

fuah: don't go to the gym anymore

fuah: if you do go with someone

fuah: omg....

Slinky: getting pepper spray today

Slinky: no i am gonna complain to the gym

fuah: but he might catch you after your gym session!!!

fuah: eeeee

fuah: eh seriously...what if you're trying to get into the car and he sneaks up behind you

fuah: or what if he follows you home

fuah: omg...

Slinky: its okay

fuah: i tell you if i were there with you i'll be the ultimate stalker repellent

Slinky: i can go to another gym

Slinky: my gym has many outlets

fuah: i give him my "uber glare of death*

fuah: and i'll bare my yellow teeth

Slinky: hello this guys is dam thick skin

Slinky: u bare your yellow teeth he may think u want to kiss him

Slinky: >.<

fuah: oh yeah....stalkers tend to be damn perasan under any circumstances

fuah: like they are the ultimate losers on earth

fuah: hhhmmm...

fuah: but if i were there he wouldn't try anything

fuah: cos i fight like a man and i bite like a rabid dog

Slinky: i dont think he will try anything

fuah: *strikes pose*

fuah: still...better to be safe man

fuah: is he...even cute

Slinky: nooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Slinky: loser material

fuah: ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

fuah: like....pimply? with burn marks on his fingers?

Slinky: no lar

fuah: cos he lights up candles on his stalk list altar?

Slinky: .........

Slinky: >.<

fuah: i bet he is collecting pics of you...pinning them up in his closet

Slinky: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Slinky: no man

Slinky: don’t scare me

fuah: with candles and weird satanic signs

fuah: he probably made a sacrifice in your honour

fuah: ....a little...

fuah: headless....

fuah: kitten!

fuah: then...he has a blow up doll with your pic on the face

fuah: ...sorry

Slinky: :'(

fuah: but....this way you'd be more careful

Slinky: >.<

fuah: this kind of ppl ah......damn sad....must have been abused when young

fuah: take care you know

fuah: and you should practice spraying that pepper spray

fuah: it'd be bad if you sprayed it in your face

fuah: i bet if you told Jack, Jack would go into a jealous rage and go "HEY!nobody touches my killer whale!!"

Slinky: ................

Slinky: very funny

fuah: hahah


Have you been stalked before?

Wasssssaaaabiiii!

Anheuser-Busch's “Magic Fridge” bags top honors (surprise, surprise) for a record eighth-consecutive year as the top-rated commercial in USA TODAY's exclusive Ad Meter real-time consumer focus group ranking of the Super Bowl commercials.

I particularly like it when the dude in black says, “A secret revolving wall…Dude, you’re a genius.” I guess not, eh?



Here's the rest:













Michelob Ultra Amber also by Anheuser-Busch



Bonus clip
My favourite! "What are YOU doing?"

I'll be the first to admit I am a total blockhead when it comes to the NFL.

"Berbair, why is it called Super Bowl XL?"

"....because it's the 40th Super Bowl."

Anyway, who cares about the game? I care only for the above par commercials.

Here are two Pepsi commercials which aired during the event.





Bonus Clip
This bonus clip is a personal favourite from last year.



More commercials after lunch.

Great. Just, great.

I finally get back on the treadmill only to run the risk of having my breast sag to the point I can hang them on my shoulders. What better way to dampen the I-Ate-Too-Much-CNY-Cookies-And-Now-Need-To-Exercise spirit than to read about a recent study that suggest some 9.5 million British women could be irreversibly damaging their busts by exercising without a proper sports bra.

“The report found that each breast moves independently of the body by an average of nine centimetres during each step taken on a treadmill. So, while a woman’s legs run a metric mile, her breasts bounce up to 135 metres under their own steam.”

“There are two results of this breast movement: pain and discomfort, which is temporary; and a stretching of the Cooper’s ligament, which is permanent and leads to irreversible breast sag”.

The frightful words “irreversible breast sag” was suffice for me to change my evening jog to an evening swim. I don’t feel it’s safe to do any form of exercise which involves my boobs bouncing about until I blow a small fortune on some good underwire support.

Great. Just, great.

Yeah, I am shamelessly next to Kenny Sia!

A friend asked for some pet photographing tips after I emailed her pictures of my cats. In general I take bad photos - I have shaky hands and no basics in photography, other than to ensure that the subject is always in the center of the viewfinder, and that the lens cover is removed before attempting to take a shot.

But her flattery and having nothing else better to do got to me. So here I am a total photography colt, blogging about tips to improve portraits of your furry friends.

Tip number one: Avoid using the flash.



Why?
• Your pet might blink or suffer from red/green-eye
• The picture might not look natural
• It distorts the natural color of your pet





Tip number two: See eye to eye



Why?
• Your pet is tired of a seeing of your thunder thighs from under that dress, so give her a break.
• Also, pictures tend to look better.





Tip number three: Play with angles.

Some angles make can your pet look good…



Some, not so good…





Tip number four: Hit that shutter button.



The Holy Grail for okay looking pictures is to fucking hit on that shutter button as fast and as many time as you possibly can. If you’re an amateur this is your best bet. It’s a number’s game – the more pictures you take, the more likely you’ll end up with something nice.



I should also mention that it helps if the subject you are photographing is appealing to the eye, take for example my cats. But if you are trying to take a lovely photograph of…say for example this dead dog with a blog, then you’re up for a challenge.