The Great Chase

Abu Jilat and Detective Brad in The Great Chase.

This you gotta watch, from the magikal brilliance of bradley and his needle in a haystack material sound editing. Perfecto, just perfecto.

Cleverly shoved in the middle of it all is a small reminder to watch your kids for paedophiles like abu jilat.

This might just make anyone's day. :)

Jinny

Dad everyone loves you somehow

My old man, an august baby, turned 51 yesterday. And as usual, we had steamboat dinner like every other function in the house.

Dad is a year past a century but you can still see people his age turning green in envy because he hasn't got a strand of white yet. He is proof that wisdom does come with age and he's very well the main breadwinner or the family.

Not only that, dad has my every word that he'll be the greatest gramps any grandchild could ever have because naturally he's like the asian barney, minus the purple and tail, but he makes kids peck him on the cheeks, and confuses them into thinking they actually belong to our family.

Oh we were once all estatic when given the chance to blow candles not on our birthday cakes. Until we grew up so big and fast that blowing became a job and a whole new meaning. Haha.

As much as i would like his home-office shifted out of my room so i can erect my own sofa lounge, I LOVE MY DAD.

Jinny

Like a virgin

I thumb the unlock button on the remote and the car emits the familiar double beep welcome before i elegantly open the door to the driver's side and climb majestically inside. I pull the lever and slide behind for ample leg space before tilting the seat backwards for a comfortable recline. As i fumble for the key into the ignition, the euphoria slowly occupy every blood vessel linking to my hypothalamus.

"Finally, i am in control."

Finding the correct key, i cooly slide it into the ignition and gave it a gentle little twist. Halfway through the first twist, the light of the built-in clock flickered and glowed in a swampy green. Then the stutter of the engines once, twice and came to life. I lovingly applied pressure on the accelerator pedal only to hear the engine roar with masculinity.

"Shrrrooooooomm shrooooooomm"

Then, it was a blur. I switched the air cond on, tuned in to hitz.fm, shifted into gear, released the handbrake, and found myself marauding through the streets of my neighbourhood thumping the steering wheel to the beats of Hips Dont Lie.

Every signal you flash, every turn you take, every injection of the accelerator seemed so adult like, so free, so protected from the possibility of being hounded by snatch thieves.

Until you get that kick in the nuts from god reminding you of juvenile detention for driving incompetently.

At least there are those who do trust the way i drive even without my liscense, *cough* mlia *cough*, *cough* chucchy *cough*. And thats only because i label myself a safe driver and i play by my words. I dont know how would that keep up if i am to be a competent driver but if you ask anyone who has taken a ride with me, i'm as safe as an ambulance.

Right? :D

Unfortunately, i'm like a delivery service to the residents of ss2B only, because ss2B is my sand box. As far as i'm concerned i'm only subjected to residential roads and anything beyond that will have to commence on foot. I'd be stuffed if i roam out of my play-pen.

Va-va-vroooom.

Jinny

Fashion kills some

The joys of staying home alone is that you can scream as loud as you want and no ones there to remind you to walk that devil dog of yours. But when your lungs are emptied after all the singing and screaming and the dog stops barking, the eerie silence is still, eerie.

But whats equally silent is a holiday in the middle of the exam season. You cant call it a holiday with everyone being leashed behind bars at home, convicted to studying service. The thing is, how many can say they can submerge themselves into books 24/7? The trend is that we're not supposed to enjoy life when the exams are near. Where's the sense in that? If you can time manage, there's no freaking reason why you shouldn't go out and have fun whenever you can. Time-management is key, its something our dear parents have never really trusted us with, something i dont have. I'm being hypocritical again.

Aaaaannyyywaaaayyy.

Jeng fashion spawns at almost every nook and cranny, what do we know about it? The impression is, "lalamuiZ" love flimsy blouses with over-bling-ed out jeans, long football socks with stripes and converse shoes, and blonde/brown dyed technic rebonded hair. And their male counterparts, the "seehamchaiZ" look stunning in their silky jersey material shirts with dragon motives, bell bottom slacks with huge white leather slippers. Its a prick in the eye for our kind, but to them, our fashion is a prick to their eyes. Maybe what separates us from them is our english-speaking heritage and their eastern influence. Imagine if they all speak english, it'll be a totally different picture. But most of them are chinese-speaking, or to be more specific, canton-speaking, the people in hong kong yell into their phones, curse everyone else in your family but you, and express desire to sleep with your mum but at least they dont dress that way.

I have always been wondering where fashion like that came from. Then one day i was enlightened, the truth was staring me in the eye, i may be the last person alive to have realised, not versace, not jean-paul gaultier, it came from the land of the rising sun. No, not the movie, Japan! Then another breakthrough in the nether regions of my little brain. Harajuku! Japanese people don harajuku fashion like a religion. Thats where all the inspiration for the cockle boys and clam girls originate. Coincidentally we had japanese exchange students come over for a week or so and i managed to further solidify my claims. Unlike the local ones we see oh so often, the japanese are polite and cheery and they dont look like they yell into phones, not like they can recieve any calls here, but they're nice people no doubt. Except sometimes i have to remind myself they're japanese whenever i start wondering why they were speaking in japanese and not cantonese. Thank god the seafood people here dress to the limit of going out and only being insulted at behind their backs by people like us who think we have more fashion sense. Because if the real harajuku girls roam our streets, i'd rather gouge my eyes out and hop into a volcano. And look just like her. Geez, poor girl, poor me.

Jinny

Startde

No more short one sentenced forewords in italic for me anymore. I've moved on from that and decide to have a proper title for my posts instead.

Well what can i say? The last one seemed just like last week and now the exam season is back to torment us stressed out kids. Thank god mine starts on the 4th of next month but i know well enough to not subject myself to last minute studying anymore because there is more at stake here. Its trials goddamit, people say its probably more important than the real exam itself and i possibly couldn't agree more. For early intakes to colleges, scholarships, forecast results and a foundation for a remark if you shit up your real spm papers. See, i'm saying the trials are so freaking crucial but i'm hardly doing shit about it. Gosh i'm such a hypocrite.

I was on the sitting platform beside the huge camp 5 windows with brad yesterday, chatting about how we're so psyched about the greatness and importance of our spm. Honestly, like brad said, after hearing all the ex 5th formers talk about their survival with the encounter of the "great" examination, spm is just another bloated exaggerated test. Just like pmr, remember back then your parents would scare the crap out of you with threats of a tainted future if you dont study well and hard enough. Its all bullshit, pmr is yet again, another bloated exaggerated test to send the poor little 3rd formers into a studying frenzy. Anyone can get into the science stream, anyone can get into colleges, anyone can get into prestigious universities, with a little bling bling passing around behind our backs, anything is possible, even with the stupidest results. A great man once said, "school isnt actually about studies, its about education".

Leadership qualities, communication skills, Ps and Qs, mannerism, independance and rational thinking. You can study your ass off and be up at the top dueling with the smartest brightest prodigies, but without internal qualities, you're just another bag of book reading shit. Just having the qualities and applying it is separated by a fine line. Its what we learn, not how we fare. But with all the PURE pressure and beliefs instilled into us ever since lower education, we dont have another choice do we? Just study people!

I've yet to come up with a timetable which mum has been pestering me for. And oscar's ground sentence is tad bit overtime but thankfully he has overcomed his trauma of being caught in between a closing gate last thursday, the day he almost died. I still replay the scenario vaguely in my mind ever since, i was the one with the gate remote. Me and grandma with our herculean effort of holding the gate back while i frantically tap the remote button repeatedly and praying oscar's head stays intact at the same time. Oscar the dog there screaming like a pussy. Still sends chills to me. He could've been beheaded like that korean guy from one of the al-qaeda videos. Geez. Enough.

I'm done for today.

Jinny

Weeewoooww. Even i am left wondering where all my blogging juices have leaked to.

I cant remember the last time i had to commentate on my-life-so-far kinda posts. For all i know its been really long since i had the urge to write about my daily perks. Alfresco style. So right now let me try to dish out what's skimming on the top of my head.

As of today, for the first time i've seen so far, oscar chia eu hock is officially grounded for a week. Everybody hates being grounded, its like having your wings clipped, as for me, i shouldn't have a right on depicting how life is when someone is being grounded because personally, i've had the priviliege of not being grounded before. But i do know the psychological effects of taking away a person's freedom for a certain period of time, sigh, hell who knows what it'll do to a dog!?

The funny thing is the fact that we're trying to actually ground a dog. For a reason, ground sounds more refering to bury, but nah, ground as in tied to a leash thats tied to a grill kinda ground with possibly 2 meals a day. Unfortunately for him, means that we will be curbing his late night maraudings to who knows where, and he will not be able to practise any of his dash-out-the-gate-at-the-very-last-gap skills. Fortunately for us, we wont have to stay up to 2 in the morning just to open the gate for him to trud in or embark in any of those search and rescue missions. Yet its still funny to punish something as goofy as oscar knowing that its not of any use, lets just hope it DOES teach him that he is much cuter and safer prancing around grandma's bougainvilleas than getting his ass kicked by bigger dogs and coming back limping. Nuff said.

Last friday was prefect's installation! Or was it graduation? Retirement? Retirement sounds more ideal to me because it makes someone seem so old and wisdom-ful, whereas graduation sounds so pop-candy like sweet valley-ish. I dont know. They both mean almost the same anyway, which means end of a tenure, the maturity of a process, the completion of a self-fulfilling journey. Whatever it is, 4 and half long years of constant worry about dirtying my white pants, swimming in the marroon blazers with ahemm, shoulder pads. Sometime during my duration as a prefect, i have thought of resigning, but letting go of all i've hoped for as a fat boy back in primary school (because i was never chosen despite my beefy hands waving frantically in the air) and the authority over *cough* humanely students was something i found difficult to initiate. And so i've held on after so much peer pressure and missing times as a normal student with short sleeves, olive (or navy green?) pants and north stars. Being a prefect has certainly opened me up to a whole new experience of leadership, examplery and authority which was never taught to me as a fat kid back in puay chai.

I have my certificate of appreciation from the school, i have gone through a considerable amount of meetings with mr. allen for disciplinary offences and managing out unscathed for 4 years with only 2 warnings, and i was given the chance to finally perform on installation day, even more so on the drums and in a band. You can say it was a finale.

Cyclophobia. Fear of bi/motor cycles. Given the rising amount of snatch thefts around PJ (with an average of 2 snatch thefts every 3 days)(according to grandma's gossips), it is hard to ignore this phobia. We are often left asking what can we actually do to stop people from being ambushed by scrawny low-lives while walking. The fear now is not whether how much they'll take or if they're having a knife or gun, its whether they have their sanity. Being robbed is one thing, being slashed BEFORE being robbed is another. The upcoming tactics are to immobilize the victim before searching through their bodies, which is why they'll cause grevious harm before taking anything and that evolution from mere snatch and run thieves are certainly very worrying. I admit i'm a pussy when it comes to me walking and motorcycles.

NO~~~ the police ARE doing their jobs. I think.

Jinny