From me to you

Por por,

Its funny how we only start to appreciate and realize what we have lost after you've departed. I know you have played a wake up call to us in terms of the apprecation of family members and people dearest to us while our blood are still running through our veins, our minds still conscious, our presence still felt amongst ourselves. Although some of us may only be awoken for awhile and revert back to our old neglectful selves, it is a valuble wake up call in terms of my experience an self improvement.

I'm sorry por por, for i have neglected you and your existence. I have never really cared much when you were still walking those flight of stairs mumbling to yourself about how hot the weather was those days, and falling asleep in front of the television with your mouth gaping wide, truth be told, everytime you fell asleep like that, i'd check to see if your chest was still rising and collapsing, still breathing because i had feared you might one day leave us without warning. I'd forgo visiting you for other events or merely just remain home to be with my computer or the television, with the ignorance in my mind assuring me that you have still have another decade or more of being with us because of the status of your health thats always excellent, even during your dying days, i've only visited you once among those 12 days when your condition detiorated. I can still remember me and my dad walking through the sliding doors of the ICU ward to see you lying on your bed with the respirator or breathing aid fastened around your mouth, you could talk then, you told dad how you felt pains in your abdominals and you aknowledged me with a nod, i knew you would've smiled at me if you could. Even as me and dad left, you could manage a that little wave to send us out. Small as it seems, it was the last i saw you as a living, breathing, person. Shame on me for assuming that the operations would all go well although it did and you would be well on your way to recovering and recuperating, only then had i decided to visit you again, citing reasons that i was busy even though i knew i had ample time to just come see you to let you know i care so much for you. I didn't show that care, even when i thought i could, I didn't, once again i was ignorant that you might, you just might leave us anyday soon.

Mum told all of us that you were scared of what was coming in the last few days, i felt for you, i felt that fear as well, probably because you have never visited the hospital in the past 80 odd years but the fear i felt was probably the fear you felt in your quiet heart. I remembered i could make out the racy, fearful voice of yours when you told dad about your abdominal pains while i was beside him. You reduced me to tears when i heard that you finally accepted and prepared yourself for that long journey quietly although everyone knew, you held on, suffered on a little for that one last child of yours, 5th aunty to be back from singapore before you finally let go of the material world. You know por por, i've said it before, but i feel contented for you, i feel contented that before you left us, you managed to personally see all 15 of your children. All 5 boys, all 10 girls, the children you gave birth to, you gave life to, the children you brought up all your life, despite the difficulties, the death of your husband, the hardship of raising 15 children with different age gaps yet they all bond so closely together. Thats is your success, as a mother. It is where people look up to you, people salute and respect you, of all the pain and suffering of childbirth to the final fruit of having 15 wonderful children at the end of your day. You also succeeded as a person. More than anyone who could earn millions.

There were so many things that you have done for the benefit of others, including your own funeral, you blessed us with magnifient weather and the swift and smooth going of the funeral. There weren't any problems at all, in fact, to be honest, it didn't feel as though you had gone, the way the funeral brought everyone together, all your grandsons and grandaughters, everyone along your ancestral line, family friends, it didn't feel like you were gone at all, it felt just like every other new year. Gathered in your big blue house in malacca where most of us cousins and the generation ahead of us grew up in. I swear i could still catch a glimpse of you walking around the whole family from the corner of my eye. Its amazing how you brought us together during your days and you managed to bring us all together again like old times after you passed. There's a certain feel to it.

Honestly, i felt so thankful when i found out that your funeral was a buddhist one. Frankly i was expecting the taoist funeral where the chinese operas would be playing and we would have to obey countless superstitions. The thing about your funeral, is the serenity of it. The chanting, the talks given by the monks about life and death, most of all, the buddhist hymn singing at every end of a chanting session. Everyone chants along with the little puja book in hand, everyone stands up and bows 3 times to you in mark of respect, everyone stands up and sings their hearts out to buddhist hymns. A funeral fit for a calm and noble woman like you.

Por por, i was afraid, i was afraid to see you lying there, under the silk, behind the glass, with a pearl on your lips. I'm not used to seeing an empty shell, a carrier with no mind, a stagnant body. Until i saw you, lying there, under the silk, behind the glass, with a pearl perched in the middle of your lips. I hardly could've recognize you, the formalin injected made you look like a wax figurine, your eyebrows have been tampered, and at times, the dry ice would create too much moisture and leave little droplets of water on your face. But beneath all the beautification work, i know lies a woman beautiful on her own, without enhancements. I swear if i stared long and hard enough i could make out a little faint smile on your face. Everyone came by, and everyone said you looked very peaceful, which i think signifies the way you left, in peace. The first time i saw you, i was captivated, at first i was worried, i was afraid of what you might look like, but after that first glance, i wasn't afraid anymore, my initial thoughts were banished, i couldn't get enough of looking at you. Even to the point when the coffin had to be sealed, i would promise myself one last look of you only to break it after a few minutes. When the coffin sealed shut only the reality shot to me that i will never ever see you as a person again. I felt so devastated, after you left, it was at that moment the thoughts came rushing, little over 3 weeks ago, i saw you, you were still moving, you were still laughing, you were still as energetic and alive as ever. Now, you're sealed in a coffin, making your way to the hearse. The only image of your walk, your laugh, your everything when i could still feel you and talk to you and call you por por is merely just a thought playbacking in my mind.

Sometimes i pray that you'd just wake up in the midst of everything and it would just be a case of mistaken death or probably be the first person to hibernate or anything but its just so helpless to think that you're gone. You made me loathe myself for depriving my time with you. I remember we used to tease you among ourselves saying you look like a mafia boss in those dark shades. Those days are gone, they aren't coming back.

As i stood on the mounds of earth beside your grave, with a bunch of pretty flowers clasp in my hands. I stared at your coffin. Lain at 6 feet under, in a brick cavity. As the monk and everyone present there, 3 busloads, all recited our final prayers, i couldn't stop staring at your coffin, the thoughts again rushing through my head, how i spent time with you, how i'd hug you long time ago everytime we left malacca for kl, you'd give me and my sisters 50 dollars each, again and always, the way you laugh. It sticks with me, when i'm asked to reflect a happy thought about you, i'd think of your laugh, time to time again, i'd think of your laugh and i'd miss it so badly.

Then i threw the bunch of roses and chrysenthemum into your new resting place. I knelt down, picked up a palmful of earth and scattered it down into your grave.

"I'll see you in the next life por por."

We lost you, thats our karma. You left us in peace for a better life, that's your karma. It wasn't only you who passed away, the family and all its traditions passed away along with you.

And now i'm starting feel the vortex, the emptiness of your departure. I know i could never bring myself to tell you this during your days, which is funny why everything only comes out after its all too late.

I love you and i miss you por por. As a grandmother and as a matriach figure not only to me but to everyone in your family, my family.

The last goodnight. I know i'll see you again.

Jinny

Dark christmas

I sleep with 5 alarms everytime i have to wake up early. But today.

"Jinn, wake up, por por passed away."

I lied in the dim glow of the morning light, just stared at the ceiling. Even before my sister made it clear that my grandma had passed i made it sure myself. I knew what was coming, i knew what she said even before she said it. My mind was just following her like karaoke when she said those words, its all too familiar.

No one took it by surprise because it was very much expected, my grandma had gall bladder cancer. A cancer so rare that universities have been requesting for specimens for further research. It only took 2 weeks from a severe abdominal pain to gall bladder stones, to cancerous cells eating into her liver then poisoning of the blood. Absolute renal failure was the killer blow and she's been in the ICU for a very hectic week as her stability went downhill.

As for me, i paid the price for only visiting her once in the last 2 weeks, i'll never see my por por walk up my staircase anymore, i'll never get to salute her personally for climbing the great wall when she was 82 with us although i never did even if i had the chance. I'll never get to see or hear my mum complain about force feeding her because she was malnutritioned, (she had a petite physique). Chinese new years are never the same anymore, her annual birthday gathering would never bring families together as always, and we'll never go for our annual frasers hill trip on the 24th of every december the same again.

We're suppoed to leave today, but we stayed back to watch her leave for somewhere else. To see my grandfather after almost a 20 year lapse.

Por por's on the right. I've not seen anyone hold chopsticks with so much grace.

I salute my grandmother, my mother's mother, mother of 15 children, grandmother of couple of dozen grandchildrens, great-grandmother of a handful of great-grandchildrens. I salute her for her contribution to the medical field on her dying days. I respect her for staying hospital-free for the past 80 odd years. I'm contented she lived a life well lived with a magnificent family. I'm also contented she got to see all 15 children before she finally let go of the sorrow and suffering. She could've gone earlier but she held on and waited for one more daughter from singapore. I was and still am proud to have and had a grandmother like her.

I'll be away in malacca from tomorrow until thursday, so while you're celebrating christmas back home with your families and lots of presents under that christmas tree of yours, i bid you a HAPPY HAPPY MERRY MERRY CHRISTMAS.

Dont MIT lei sai lou ge lan tao just because he gets a better present. :)

Oh and of course, after a whole week of production. Finally, me and brad, bradjinn, we present to you our latest video. Please put those banners up on your blog as well! Thats a RAP!!

BradJinn Production presents:
IT ENDS TONIGHT


It gets better and better.

Jinny

Wah, damn nice ah

Hello everybody!

I'm back with a new post, with a more positive approach at the start. Also with more gusto, without complaint and certainly without blankness. I will write any inspiration to swim through my mind! :)

Prom was great. Proms were great. The earlier prom was great. My prom was greater great. My prom had hip hop dancers with erotic physique and super gyrating movements, we also had corn soup and fried rice which isn't really fried. I'm not complaining! I know some of you are, but who cares? Like they're really gonna refund anything. I saw the chef taking a peek at the hip hop dancers with erotic physique midway through the show and his hands were in his pockets, both hands, probably the push and pull technique, and also explains why our broccoli had excessive white substance with a gooey texture. Egg white you say?

But that's not the point, the dish tasted fine, the hip hop dancers with erotic physique never stopped moving, serena c never took off those crimson red shoes. By the way, serena c had an erotic physique also. Fuck it, everyone that night had an erotic physique except phupinder and 2 girls from 5 Ixora i think who dressed like hookers. Fuck them hookers, we're about prom, we wanna talk about who made out with who or who proposed to who or who gave who flowers, we wanna talk about those suits that flash our masculinity, we wanna talk about the plunge on dresses, who had the biggest cleavage *cough*, who looked like shit and who looked even shittier than shit, who had the best hair, or the worse hair, or the horrendous golden spots on noren's head which really accentuates his stupidity which only cements evidence that he was, is, and always will be a stupid blighter. Enough of badmouthing for an hour, we also wanna talk about how ganjalin sashayed in the ballroom with her award winning dress, or who was dirty dancing to sean paul in the midst of green laser.

Now they say explaining about it is just not enough anymore, everyone wants to see pictures. Lack of imaginative skills. Nevermind lah, i post some pictures for those who are deprived of those skills only because i want to share. :)

The theme was then and now, then we were fucktards with huge trolley bags and thought that guys can also make their own cement. Now we're still fucktards but equipped with better social skills, like our social skills damn good lor, and we now know our distinct mating calls. Although some of us still think that guys can make their own cement. Damdum la these niasengs.

Sorry la people, i really wanna post pictures up but my stupid koneksyen standing in my way. It wont let me upload anymore pictures so i guess i'll have to do it another day, maybe next year. Haha, nola, when i'm free lah, like maybe next year lah. Come to think of it, there's nothing to be happy about, my stupid koneksyen would only grant me 5 minutes of airtime before timing out for another 5 minutes, and it keeps repeating as long as i'm online. So i cant even recieve or send pictures, i cant even recieve the beta version of bradjinn's new production, i cant even get to send DJ prom pictures to mlia. Cant have a decent conversation with anyone. Oh ya, no complaints right, so i stop here. But then my stupid koneksyen, like miew san says, i wanna MI LEI GE LAN TAO.

If you rearrange prom, it can be morp, omrp, pomr, pmor, whatever. It can also be ROMP. And after prom, we had a romp. Not sex romp lah, just a romp at my dad's apartment in kl. We proceeded to have 2 guys turning red, 2 guys throwing up all over my dad's ceramic toilet bowl, 1 girl getting tipsy for 4 hours, 1 glass broken, and 1 lecture session from my dad the day after for all the dirty towels. Me, brad, faraj and amresh also had a fruitful discussion about singhs at 5.30 in the morning. The grandmaster singh is watching us all with his divine turban. Thats why we couldn't talk too loud.

That was the the SMKTS prom. The afterparty was almost as fun lah, me and mak sitting on the balcony in the apartment with our pepsi twist in wine glasses in hand overlooking the past midnight skyline of kl. While the guys were bullying the "girl" in the drinking game behind us. Fei, leely and li ying were on the couch having a threesome. Haha, fuck you la, they were watching Borat.

And for those who still think pn harminder's cleavage is the mother of all cleavages, i forgive you for you weren't at prom.

Mmmmmm what a satisfying post. They say a great morning always brings a magnificent day. And thats another smiley for you. :)

Jinny

Write a new one

As you get older and wiser, its so hard to think of how to start writing. I've shaken off from the english essay phase for at least just the meantime and thinking of what to write has only gotten more ballbreaking. Its a repetition all over again, time and time again i get on with a new post telling all you people out there how hard it is to start a topic. I know, its sickening, i feel it too.

Okay fine, i'm starting a new post, one with a more positive approach at the start. One with more gusto. Without complaint and certainly without the blankness, i will write with any inspiration to swim through my mind.

Damn sad lah, i need to psych myself up with a silly post.

Jinny

My shoulder's cracking, go find another one

One week ago, we obliterated exam stress. We indulged in the joy we could only anticipate a few months or weeks back.

24 hours ago, i was deflowered, my cherry popped. I was no longer a virgin of formal clothing. For the first time I donned a striped shirt, a shiny necktie, and a flashy coat. Without using protection.

Today, I feel so vocabularily constipated i've decided to let the pictures blog. To the thought of it, its bloody long since i last posted relevant pictures.

SMK Damansara Jaya Prom Nite at The Renaissance

Men with really rigid breasts. Yes, men. Ask my chin how they felt.

Prom king Ken Yew and prom queen Rachel.

Mak Heong Weng here looking at his best. Despite having to walk in the rain with me to dad's apartment, frustrate himself with the tv cables while plugging his PS2 to the tv, pay an extra 4 bucks for our taxi ride, and having to tolerate a shaky ironing board. Not to mention his date looks wowowweewow.

Repulse-ive. Plays good music, lead guitarist Michael does his guitar like Zeppelin, 2nd guitarist Kel is my joga bonito kaki, drummer Siew Haur probably has the most unkept, unpolished, unshampooed hair of the night. One strand got so stale it became brown.

Then of course my date cum girlfriend Emelia Tan who was *coughs* fashionably later than late.

My drop dead gorgeous. My stunning. My eye piercing. My mlia.

After the after prom party at Nasi Kandar Pelita, 10 of us had to sqeeze into a deluxe room at renaissance and you can literally feel the thickness of carbon dioxide increasing and precious oxygen thinning. In addition to the occasional snores and moans here and there. It wasn't a good night's sleep.

One more prom coming. They say once you've popped you cant stop. :)

Jinny

Curtain close

It has become another phase of our lives completed. After the harrowing 5 years coming face to face with our educators. Tuesday, thursday, friday tuitions. After all those failures in additional maths, moral and chemistry. After all the friendship bonds made and broken. The 6.30 morning body alarm. All the horrifying injuries inflicted be it to the shins or the heart. Not to mention sports, representing the state for athletics was my highlight, my peak. Then the frantic last minute cramming of all things biological.

It all boils down to the last two weeks. Our curtains closing on one stage. A new curtain is parting on a different stage.

As for now, its over for good, for now only.

Now i can get my room refurbished, bed sheets change, curtains switched to a lighter colour, work up my biceps and triceps to it once was, make rock climbing my nicotine again, severely shoot up in cholesterol, watch every movie in the cinemas between september till now, watch tv without guilt, holiday!!!!!! A well deserve one! Or two. Maybe three. There's always friends and emelia time, and get my new pro evolution soccer and championship manager.

Something tells me i'm gonna end up swivelling on my swivelling chair in the end. As always.

Jinny

You got my temperature falling like, la nina

Lately, chucs has been camwhoring alot. Not only with herself, with plants, with pumpkins, with her poor white mice sister. But most of all, she's flaunting her alleged skills to take beautiful artistic shots of all things natural, sadly no nudity.

So here i am, i'm posting her a challenge. I'm joining the fray. To take breathtaking pictures. And i'm sure after this, more and more would want to come prove that they too have artistic bones in their bodies.

These are MY shots, my camera, my lenses, my finger on the button, me behind the flash, my artistic bones twitching.

The heat is on baybeh.

Jinny

Aim for the skies, when you fall, the tree branches will impale you

I'm sweeping the dust off my blog. I can't remember the last time anything decent ran through my head.

I'm amused, by the way we're shitting ourselves before the big exam and now that its here, the stress has uncannily subsided.

Then again its only the first week. The subtle week. Which explains why i can afford to write something out of nothing.

I cant wait for the day we strip out of our uniforms and toss em into the beautiful sunny sky. Especially my white prefect one with that ugly burgundy necktie. Urgh.

Till then, smile. :)

Jinny

Me, dad and me

Bongo drums taster course on the tuesday night that just passed.

Drum Circle.

Father in white on the left, son in black to his left.

Dad's going for the 3 day Drum Circle course this coming weekend and hopefully by the end of it all he'll buy a spanky new set of bongo drums. For me to thump my fingers on. :)

Jinny

Take one for november

Hello there. It is me. I'm back after a weeklong absence doing what? Sipping a nice cocktail blend of tv and computer and metacafe and maybe a tinge of productivity. While everyone, well almost everyone else are condemned to solitary confinement chasing alphabets and the laws of physics. Where is the pressure for me? It is coming late.

Yes, i do study, at most at a stretch of 30 minutes consecutively before my feet start to go on auto cruise. They just wander, they walk wherever there is to walk, prance wherever there is to prance, synonymous to my ass which sits wherever there is to sit and lay wherever there is to lay, and well, sleep. If i dont catch the train to dreamland then i'll be foraging for food. I also indulge in managing chelsea on my championship manager probably more often than ever. I bought steve sidwell and theo walcott for a combined fee of 17 million pounds. What the fuck? See! I need to be tied down ala bondage and have text books and past year papers whipping and "punishing" me. Hubba hubba.

Every spm huns out there, I am your reason and your comfort to stroke the back of your neck and tell yourself, its okay, if my hands are still to heavy to flip those biology or chemistry pages, eujinn is far worst, he is still very far behind. And if your mum doesnt let you out, just tell her that hey, eujinn is not on house arrest, he goes wherever he wants to, and either you get to go out and play or your mum would call me a gravedigging fucktard. Hmm, i dont quite get what i just said.

Actually i do study. Its just that its not on the desirable pace which i ought to have. But im picking it up, slowly, not steadily but slowly. I finally have a study timetable though, one that i should have had erm, about a year ago. Still, better late than never. In some cases, i'd rather be never than late.

Haha. I'm so full of dry weed ---- wit. You know, i really dont know how you actually do a strikethrough on your words in blogger, so i write the wrong word first, then put a strikethrough AFTER it since i cant put ON it, mainly because i'm trying to be funny. :)

By the way, i still need upclose camwhoring photos of you who i've not added into my photoshop edited links. And if you want a link space on my blog with your photo on it, just gimme a shoutout okay, i'll do anyone except jayisgay, kennysia, bluewtvfairy, justin yap. Heeheehee, i'm just kidding! Anyone i know lah.

Brad wants me to explain to everyone out there that the captions on his link does not symbolise his dismal road manners. Invisible on the streets actually describes his thick skinned personality who is unshaken and unfazed by onlooking stares and is a type of human that's not too proned to embaressment. In other words, like an ostrich, who figures that if it cant see anything, anything cant see it, and because most of the time bradley loves to stare into camera lenses, he assumes that the whole world isn't giggling at his antics. I think its quite a good thing though, this is how actors are born, i mean made, unlike me, i'm a typified wuss, i'm too conscious about my surroundings. I had a hard time filming The Great Chase.

And to those who want their link pictures changed, just send me one closeup of yourself you wouldn't mind letting other people oogle at, god knows what else they're doing. Ha ha ha ha.

Oh, and in the last post, my real intention was not to humiliate john but someone's gotta say something yeah, its either the angelic or devilish way, and unfortunately my anger had the better of me that day, folks, curb your anger, its a destructive nature. I had a nice chat with john though one night, and i explained everything that was on my sleepy but pretty darn conscious mind and i'm glad almost everything's solved, without bloodshed, without holocausts, without genocide, no rat poison, no zyklon B, nothing, just a lot of water drinking and alot of coughing because my throat was tickling me that night. In the end, it was a fruitful discussion. :D

Finally a post that i had fun writing. Yeay.

Jinny

Your hair is everywhere

I'm misunderstood, i'm broken, i'm torn, i'm ripped. Whatever. We just had a quarrel. Me and my girlfriend. Not like we've never but it happened again. Probably more often now than except this time ended pretty bad(stop getting fucking excited). She's just not replying thats all. I know i'm fucked up. And i fucked up today bad. I thought at least add maths tuition went well today i didn't think of biting my teacher but then it had to, a series of unfortunate events.

I guess you really do deserve some time apart. You've earned it. I'm just a fucking bullshit trying to get attention and not earn. And you misunderstood my last message, it was never ever meant to be sarcastic or cold in any fucking way possible. God knows how the hell it ended up sending the wrong impression to you but i guess it was my fault for writing it that way. And yes i will still send messages to you even if you dont reply, for i know you're serious when you say you wont pick up my calls. I'm so pathetic i know, i've told you so many times and even though you denied it, i know at times you do think i am. And although i know that even some of my close friends are never really in support of me in this relationship anyway, i just hope we'd get over this stupid phase of insecurity.

But as for today, i think i've had enough. I've thrown myself into the grinder, it comes to a point when all you think about is to hate life. You got me, those who quietly want to see me fall in this relationship, those who do stuff, send messages, hanky panky behind my back, you think you'd get away but i guess its just wrong place wrong time, or rather wrong message wrong time. Well guess what, i'm down, i'm almost out, if you think of capitalising on that advantage then i'd say go for it. Those eagerly waiting for me to fall off the horse so they can swoop in on my damsel. You can try, but well, frankly i've had enough of hearing rubbish. Right gay boy john?

If i was keen chee with eyes behind my head, a package of guts, and a raging temper, i'd fuck you up. Stop waiting and start changing boy. Dont test our fidelities because its gonna land you in hot water. Big time.

Quote me if i'm mistaken, i'm more than open to hear your side of the story. If you have one.

Just had to.

Another post written in anger.

Jinny

That's a rap

Another of many BradJinn productions.

Check out the banner for this video below the links section, underneath pete teo.

Jinny

Fever

Some parts of my family.

Financial support : Got
Religious support : Got
Life support : Got
Emotional support : Dont have
Self-confidence support : Dont have

Maybe its the way i'm brought up. Maybe its the way typical chinese families are brought up. Maybe its the way our parents have been brought up. People only talk about what they see in front of their eyes. They only see what they want to see, especially parents. They dont take the time to dwell deep into our emotions and minds and TRY to understand how we actually feel. Its like how they want us to study and get excellent results not knowing that sometimes it is also what we want but we tried and are still trying our best. They dont aknowledge effort. They aknowledge the result.

They put it in teen magazines about 10 problems teens face and all that shit but instead they should put it out for the parents to see and read and understand. It is at this stage that i'm fucking fed up of this household. Because there is so much violent nature i hear everyday especially what happens to my dog. My grandma and dad shouts all the time at my dog for peeing when it is only normal for male dogs to pee in order to mark teritories. Sometimes for just coming into the house. It also goes to us, kids who have been brought up with the cane. It will only instill fear not respect. That is something parents are so defiant to understand.

My mind is racing with so much thoughts and anger. Its hard to grasp topic by topic and type it out. The bottom line is, parents should not blame their kids like they always do when we're being rebellious but blame themselves for failing to bring authority down to nurture a good understanding with their kids especially teens. They always wait until its too late and they complain why teenage children dont relate to them as much as friends and then them trying to be friends with us is just freaky. And frankly, they nag and advice us thinking its for our own good but to me, its just getting irritating because i amachvasjkcvalicbklbctuc hb cjkubvcilaubgcoaicbauicvucykvaucyvchjba. fuck it.

Jinny

Quinnox

With all my illegal activities. Like cruising around in my grey aeroback without a legit liscense.

My life feels like an extract from a storybook.

A storybook that might just end with mum and dad and grandma and che's words lingering in my conscience.

"We told you so."

Jinny

X- ie cu ti ner Style

eu jinn and brad in a room , but i'm telling you rome wasnt built in a day. take everything from the inside and sex it up. we then came out and played but if our lives are for rent we shall say O encato do gantios! When mortal kombat came out back in the early 90's we were listening to QUEEN with a rap remix as ANOTHER one bites the dust. In eu jinn's mind there are fragments of freedom thatare familiar to merasa meraba the sugar ray portion of lil o' me! But as bob dylan said if not for you ( he said this to emelia ) , "when i look at this nickel plated photograph i see the "blowers" daughter" THen out of no where! OUT OF NOWHERE! RAY CHARLES ENTERS THE SCENE! singing LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLLLL BITCHES! But was interrupted by an alien mysterious "track number 13" Sensing that they actually had to get back to business, eu jinn and brad decided to stop mucking around and got back to the original case. "THE CASE OF THE MUSE".
AS they exited the sexually charged studio Banho Cheirsos, they encountered a nasty little midget by the name of Elvis Costello who sang about a new born hawk. Neither of them knew what happened next as Kurt CObain came and slaughtered Mr COstello with an aroused u-boat ( submarine ).

Time passed and their relationship grew ( the gay couple la not brad and jinn ) anywayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy they dived into the secret hideout of the evil Puffy.
As they disarmed and disposed of the "Hardest Button TO Button" guards and henchmen they noticed the magical artifact they came to retreive was on a canibal's crotch. SUmmoning all their magiKal spells, they called upon the great Guardian Force ; "John MAyer"
John used his amazing deep "wiley" ;) winks* and forced the cannibal to choose between JESUS OR A GUN .....( ok so john mayer was a gospel pusher fucktard....but he got the job done! )
SO the cannibal chosed to renounce his evil faith and accept jesus christ and his personal lord and saviour and passed the M2M m&m chocolates to Peter Pan who was bradjinn's ally......unfortunatly the day wasn;t over as the evil Mastermind Madonna tried to get away.....Not wanting madonna to cause more harm they unleashed their ultimate weapon upon her "THE BACKSTREET BOYS" who ripped off her pointy boobs and touched her like a virgin for the very first time.
AND SO THE DAY WAS SAVED AND BRAD AND JINN CELEBRATED BY DRINKING A VERY EXPENSIVE BOTTLE OF FUEL............( they died ) cheers and thanks.

PS - Try a little tenderness
Peace out
Jah Bless
And finally remember the golden words of P. Ramli : "Punjabi MC! BEWARE OF THE BOYS GIRLS!)

Sasha "Bra Joe From Kilimanjaro" Cohen

Gallantry

Eujinn's smart, but he's lazy.

I've got that for years now. And to ponder upon it, its sounds better like.

Eujinn's lazy, but he's smart.

My mind is slowly disintegrating. I can feel the knowledge sucked out of my head day by day. I want to write, but i cant think of anything to write. On sunday i had this long emo post, then yesterday i had a philosophical one, today, i've got rubbish.

Hey, you ever realised that we grow into our names? I mean, you can actually guess people's names by the way they look. I remember the first time i met cj, fellow rock climber and something something manager(was it?) at corezone in ss2, i told myself that he looks like a joo. Not jew, joo. Somebody who looks like he has a JOO in his name. Well not dead sure he looked like a joo la, because he also looked like a james. But certainly not greg or johnson because those names are only reserved for either pint sized midgets or walking muscles. Then one day i saw his full name on the camp 5 registry and i was damn right. Tan Chiew Joo. He had a JOO in his name. You know what i mean?

Just think to yourself, what is the first impression of a person called paul or albert or dick? Paul to me, gives me an impression of a gentle giant. Possibly a computer illiterate with huge marsupian eyes and a hooked nose. Albert to me looks like a turtle-neck wearing buff, with thick rimmed glasses and side-parting. Dick, well, a dickhead.

Dont think that i'm all sexist-y here and neglecting the importance of womenfolk in my discussion. You girls, like us guys, like all humans, look like your names! Gretchen is your average librarian. Emily and matilda suits little pixie statured girls with shoulder lenght hair, sarah, is everywhere!

You do think everything that i've wrote so far has no basis and is senseless, come on, i know you do. Because i've got everybody comparing their looks to other names already. I know i know, you think many other "beautiful" names can also suit the way you look. You think because of your elegance, you can also be named elizabeth, or you're smart enough to be called isaac, newton, einstein, whatever. You think that hey, my friend's eujinn, i can also see him as a kim sai, or a beng tat, or bernoulli, anything, but one thing i will not tolerate is IRWIN. Imagine how i'd end up if my mum went ahead in naming me irwin? I imagine a me, dragging my feet to school with an English Dictionary of Idio(t)ms, with a swan trolley schoolbag.

Why are we discussing about names anyway?! Who's the bastard who started it?!

Jinny

The quiet screaming alright

I blog best when i blog between my sub-conscious mind under a showerhead. Days are numbered and there is so much left to do. It's so taxing on the mind, body and soul to pick that book up and ignite your study momentum. I was just talking about it today, 41 days right? A month and half doesnt really sound that awful, but 4 cycles of 10 days, 5 weeks? That's dreadful to my earhole. :(

Considering the amount that is left to be done is tremendous and i'm still jollying around like i'm high on glucose. I'll never catch that ship. Or lest i assume i cant anymore. Mum, you cant put me on house arrest, there's the tv, there's the computer, there's the bed, i'll go to the library. Turns out the library isnt really that remedy that i was seeking for. But i'll still subject myself to the library, because i am conscious of my main purpose to be there which is to get some work done and restrain from the temptations back home.

The last sentence sounded like i'm being seduced back home. Ooh, temptations.

You see, i'm forcing myself to blog again when i dont even have much to say. Its a form of stress on its own. Blogger Stress. You see other people updating and writing and ranting and all that, then you go back to your own blog and see that your previous post is oxidating turning brown and all and you wanna blog just like everyone else. Sorta like peer pressure.

And now i'm here with my fingers dancing around my keyboard oblivious to my cereal box waiting to be opened downstairs. Today's my 3rd time having shepherd's pie at ms read without remembering i tasted the same thing twice.

I dont get it.

Jinny

A fitting tribute

:)

Jinny

Inspiration eelek

Okay so maybe i have anxiety and frustration taking the wheel in my life, and i did jump into the pool on friday night with only my jeans on. Its getting harder and harder to ignore msn nicknames wearing reminders that the big exams are only about 2 months away, oblivious to how much head-banging and wall-punching reactions it brings to people like me who cant help but catch a glimpse of it even if i dont want to.

And for an uncanny reason, my pyjamas smells like green grass oil (cheh chau eu), is someone trying to poison(but is failing miserably) me? Although it is organic and edible. Or maybe its the smell of expired naftalene balls.

Paranoia, i wish i could eradicate. Besides, naftalene balls are so yesteryear.

Subjecting myself to writing without inspiration is suicidal, nothing makes sense. My mind is hovering about in my room while my fingers are tapping the keys rhythmically. The probable purpose of this post as i can think of is to finally put ambi mohan under wraps, you see, blog posts are like powerbars, when you first publish, there's a buzz and lots of activity revolving around it, then if you leave it there in the fridge for a little longer than usual, it starts to harden, then it dehydrates, this is the point where no one wants a bite anymore, then it expires and all blog hoppers would come to your blog, see a stale post and move along. Which is why it is vital to update from time to time even if you write jackshit like me.

I have an issue with supercab however. I wouldn't hesitate to write in to any daily paper willing to read another ever growing list of cabby complains. Normal rate charges from ss2 to OU is about 6 to 7 bucks everyone knows that, and i'm sure alot more public transport consumers are still left in the dark about some cabby rules like if you dont tell the cabby earlier that you and your friend are dropping off at 2 different places, he has a cabby right to charge an extra 2 bucks if he wants to exercise it. I've sat countless taxis and have encountered equally countless drivers, from bob marley drunkard to royal family driver material, and i'm sure that the extra 2 buck rule is a whole load of fuck because if it does apply, then most drivers are either too kind to young men like me or they have amnesia. Because when it comes to money, everyone wants to get extra. Yesterday my and brad's taxi ride from OU back home costed 10 freaking holy ringgits, because some stupid pizza faced cabby said it was disrespectful to not tell him earlier that we're going to 2 different stops. Which means i've been rather disrespectful to a whole bunch of other cabbies and they're too stupid to stand their ground. And just because its the puasa month doesnt mean taxi drivers have an invinsible excuse to ooze more money out of passengers by using the respect reason. If it was 6.45 then maybe i can understand that he's rushing home to buka puasa and then he can talk about respect to me, but i remembered his illuminating green clock saying it was 6. And menfolk dont cook unless you're chef wan. Aih, stupid.

I was searching high and low in the taxi for his identification and the registration number but i couldn't find nuts. I was so pissed i even forgot to record his number plate. But i can aptly describe his interior, i'm gonna write a complaint saying i dont have his number but he had his passenger seat slanted backwards to see oncoming traffic on the left because his 4 windows are almost filled to the brim with bloody stickers of the events he's been to. "Program Usahawan 2005, Equatorial Hotel, Puchong", "Japan GT Grand Prix 2006", and he has copies of the same stickers all over. He doesnt stop at junctions because he cant see whats coming on the left, and he drives like alex yoong on a bad hair day. Oh and his meter is tampered for raya, i suspect.

Actually i'm just pissed because i had to fish out my 10 ringgit note so majestically sitting in my wallet. Now i'm kinda broke.

And i really really want to eat seeham, lok-lok style.

Jinny

DamDum

You've gotta read this!

If you think some couple named their daughter 17 years ago after your standard F&N Sarsi is an amusing disaster of the people of great Malaysia. You've not read the best part of this article.

Read this carefully and notice how our people can be freaking DUMB.

The Ambi Mohan feller lah. Lodge police report because some purpoted blogger used only ONE emoticon in her blog post. I didn't know you can also make a report for someone being a little too lazy. Like that my parents and puay chai teachers should've put me in jail a long time ago.

Sohai.

Jinny