Friday, April 13, 2007


Mario, the princess is in another castle.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

:( part 2

mood: blind
listening to: Stevie Wonder: Greatest Hits

My girlfriend who tells me that she loves me poked me in the eye.

This makes me sad on the inside.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

: (

I miss my grandad.

Serial nights of insomnia have resulted in me thinking about him quite a bit in the past few weeks. He died a couple of years ago.

He was fantastic. He brought me to movies when I was younger. And to boot it off, he loved all those awesome American action movies chock full of testosterone. Air Force One, Die Hard and all it's spawn. Ditto Jurassic Park. I was first exposed to King Kong in the eighties, thanks to him. On VHs. And he would have loved Peter Jackson's take on the giant ape. He was the main reason we would make a trip out in the car to the local laser-disc store (remember those huge bastards?) to rent horrible action movies where things blew up and people died. It's because of him that I can appreciate movies like Kill Bill, Snakes on a Plane. And to this day, I love any Sylvester Stallone movie where people get killed horrible and shit blows up. I mean, this man was so awesome, he spent 50 dollars on tickets and snacks for me, my sister and him to watch the Titanic. He proceeded to wrap himself up in his jacket and told me to wake him up when the shit started hitting the fan. 50 dollars spent willingly just to watch the spectacle of a ship sinking into the water. Then he went to sleep again until the movie ended. Then he said it was a good movie. You know what, he'd probably have loved Michael Bay's abominable take on Pearl Harbour. 'Cos, y'know, shit blew up and people died.

I remember when I was in primary four (or thereabouts) my mum yelled at me for taking too many of his cans of Coca-Cola (he just loved the stuff, and well, so do I). After yelling at me for about half an hour, she left me crying like a wuss in the guest bedroom. A few minutes later, when she left to do some stuff, he snuck in the room with a massive grin and a can of the drink for me in his pocket and told me that I was welcome to his stash anytime I wanted. Irregardless of what my mum says. Then he grinned some more and buggered off to watch stuff blow the fuck up on tv.

He bought me toys. And taught me how to appreciate them for their engineering and sculpting. This is the reason Transformers hold a happy place in me. They remind me of him. And the feeling I had when he was around.

He bought me my first video-game consoles (an NES rip-off and, later, a Sega Genesis) and introduced a whole new medium of storytelling to me. He bought a ginormous Lego technics set and we spent every night of 3 weeks putting together a massive car. We messed up the gearbox, but whatever. He loved Salem cigarrettes (they killed him, which is why I would never smoke), red bean ice-cream, braised pork legs in XO sauce. He was a dentist and a competitive badminton player. He hated butter and lamb but loved chicken chops.

At one point in time, we went to the Sarawak Museum every weekend. Just to look at stuff together. I can still see him in my head chatting with my grandmother on the patio every evening when I came back from school. I think they're the definition of the perfect couple.

I was in Sydney when he died. My mum called me at 7.15 am Sydney-time to tell me. I had spent the whole night blubbering on the couch because I knew it was coming so when she called I was just numb. I was numb for the longest time. And I didn't cry for him until a couple of months back, because I'm fucked up that way.

They wouldn't let me go back for the funeral. I was pretty fucking pissed of about that. I still am. Majorly so.

I'm not being very grammatically correct and this post is badly written but the point of it all is this:

My grandad was awesome.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

my grandmother is a ninja. she will stab you many times in the dark. with a knife.

Seriously. All of you are bastards. Every single fucking last one of you. Except for you at the back there with the buttons on your pants. You're an asshat.

Random diatribes of ANGER aside, things that have happened since my little corner of the intarwebs went down with a debilitating venereal disease, IN THE GROIN:

1. The Lady got new slippers and a new phone.
2. I got new speakers. Cheap.
3. I discovered that there are a LOT of bloody idiotic people in KL.
4. These people are still allowed to use their gonads to produce more stupid children. Stupid with a capital DUMBASS. WHY?!
5. I intended to buy an Xbox360.
6. My laptop is showing signs of dying. No more Xbox360.
7. Optimus Prime can, and will, kick anyone's ass.
7a) special clause for Lainie: This includes Daredevil. In yellow OR in red.


Monday, July 10, 2006, totally.

Shows my girlfriend have gotten me addicted to since we started living together:

One Tree Hill
Random Chinese 6 pm soap
American Idol

Shows I have gotten her addicted to since we started living together:


My macsulinity, it hangs on like a limpet to the rocks in a raging storm, slowly losing its grip. Screaming out its futile words of defiance, lost in the cacophany of sound.

Plus, I really like One Tree Hill now. Damn damn damn bloody damn damn.

PS: does anyone know what a limpet looks like and if it actually clings to rocks?

Wednesday, June 28, 2006


I have spent the last six fucking hours of my fucking life trying to get all my stupid fucking music into my fucking iPod. FUCK. Stupid fucker of an iPod keeps fucking freezing on my fat Chinese ass.

And it being 3 in the bloody morning my vocabulary is basically, on a scale of 1 to 10, stupid.


Ohh! Look at me! An Apple user! Look at my pretty Apple products! My shiny silver laptop! My white square shaped music player with rounded edges! Come! Have your flabbers gasted while I repeatedly get reamed from behind as I try to get some monkey tossing music on my AU$500 music player! Ohhh! My rectum! It hurts so good! Yes! Please, Mr Steve Jobs! Can I have some more!

Motherfucking overhyped piece of white plastic fucking cuntwhore motherlicking son of a backwards rhinoceros.

FUCK! ARgh, damnit. The word doesn't even begin to relieve my feelings anymore. Arschloch mutter dirne schnecke bumser.

Bugger this for a herd of camels.

I'll whistle if I need music.

Monday, April 24, 2006

she's a lady

My darling love is the most exquisite thing that has happened to me since some dude invented soft toilet paper.

I will not hear a word said against her for her honour is mine to defend and other foofy romantic crap like that.


She kicked me out of the bed last night. I mean literally, with an ingenius combination of foot- and arm- action, the woman who is the heart, soul and center of the happiness in my life managed to kick me, a fat bastard who is a whole 30% heavier than her, off the god-damned bed. All the while sleeping the deep, drooling, snoring sleep of the sinless. No amount of dodging, weaving or general athletics (hah!) could prevent the inevitable.

Truly, my kung-fu is not worthy.

Friday, March 17, 2006





Squelch. Sploosh.





Sunday, March 05, 2006

school is FUN! HAVE FUN, DAMN YOU!

Wheeee! It's been, what, three weeks since school started again? The Fishballs, he is liking the CenFad so far. He is liking the CenFad very much. The teachers are hilarious, if a little off kilter, the food it reasonable if a little randomly priced and the work is fun if a little abundant. The classmates are... I'll save the classmates for later.

However, the computers are slower than taking a size ten shit out of a size two ass and the Internet access is as speedy as your grandmother in the toilet. Two toilet analogies in a single sentence. I am king.

Now then, we come to my favourite bit: the classmates. Now most of my classmates are decent people, lovely and intelligent. The rest however, are buffoons of the highest order. Loudmouths who's main objective in life is to irritate the fuck out of anyone within a certain radius of themselves. Stupid fuck-ups who's fucking idea of a fucking joke is this: "Hey Miriam, we should call you Mary-anne" They follow this up with a grating laugh not dissimilar to donkey in labour who's baby is coming out sideways. THROUGH THE RECTUM. JESUS H. CHRIST ON A FRENCH FUCKING CROISSANT THIS MOTHERFUCKER GETS ON MY FUCKING NIPPLES. Seriously, the only thing that is preventing me from jumping across the class and stabbing him in the fucking eyesockets with my graphite pencils is the fact that graphite pencils are expensive and I'm on a budget.

Then there's the lady in the class whom I like to call "Oooh Look at Me Please Pay Attention to Me" or as I like to call her OMG STOP IT YOU FUCKING CUNT AND DIE DIE DIE DIE DAMNIT. She stands around and tries to fish for compliments about her sub-standard work. AND SHE KEEPS ASKING IF ME IF HER HAIR IS FLAT AND OMG SHE HAS HAIR LIKE MICHAEL JACKSON FROM THE 80's. Note of importance: If you have hair like Michael Jackson from the 80's, it does not matter if your hair is flat because you look like a fucking troll anyway. Note part deux: If your hair is naturally curly like that, fair enough, sucks to be you. But SHE DID IT ON PURPOSE OMGWTFBBQ. Disclaimer: Keem's hair is curly as well, but not McDonald's Curly Fries curly. But even if it was, I would adore it. With all my heart. Also egg-tarts.

Bleagh. But I've met a few cool people here as well so it ain't THAT bad. Also, I've been hanging out with that Lainie and also Miriam, who agrees with me about the bottom-feeding, cruel-tricks-of-nature that I've just mentioned.

And Lainie is girly.

My hunny-bunny-poopy-schnookums is coming tomorrow. My insides are all a-squishy in excitement.

The asshole on the next computer is playing FIFA by himself and he is swearing at the computer ref. Fucking tool.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006




Monday, February 06, 2006


I am the tyrant of a woman who stomps over the man who writes in this blog.

This is one of my moves to take over his life.

Give me your powerbook!

Whips, chains and needles,
Your darling.

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Fishballs' amazing insight no.53

The phrase "if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself" doesn't really apply to blowjobs.

Sekian, harap maklum.

Also, Happy Chinese New Year, you bastards.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

c'est amour

My girlfriend is bouncing around the room in a pair of horrible red boxers with some kind of animal printed on them. Also, a halter top in some alien shade of green. She seems utterly pleased with herself.

I do believe I'm in love all over again.

Now I will play a violent game which involves shooting people in the face repeatedly to make them die screaming.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006


will give sexual favours for internet access.

Help a brother out, why don't you?

Wednesday, November 30, 2005


Dang, I love me some animated Hellboy.

I also love me some comic Hellboy figures

Christmas is coming soon. Coff.

And now, shower time.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

googly moogly

As it goes, everytime I come back to Kuching, my little patch of the interweb (courtesy of Al Gore) gets neglected like a wrinkly whore's vagina.

But things I have been doing since I have gotten back:

1) Seen The Lady. This makes me happy and smushy inside on account of she makes me happy and we laze around a lot. Also, she is really good with the directions when I am driving. Because I am frankly piss at the whole 'getting around town' business.

2) Watched Harry Potter and the Whinging Brit Kids. Was not as a good as I'd hoped but not as bad as I feared. There was a dragon and that dude with the eye and that other dude with no nose. All fun for the kiddies. Harry Potter is still a whining little shit and his red headed friend keeps looking worse as the series wanders along it's inconsistent track.

3) Seen the Sexbomb and the Furry who have come back from New Zealand. It is good to see them again on account of they are my friends. Both are very sarcastic and horny as ever. Hornier, in fact. Now that they've acquired sources of regular sex that are back in Sheepsville waiting for them. Fun for all. Yaaaay.

And now fuck you all because Miss Vanessa has decided not to blog anymore.

I going to make a shit now.

Friday, November 11, 2005


Yesterday, I was berated for "being too understanding" and was told to stop it.

It was a new experience.

And then today, I went to the One Utama with a friend. I rushed to the toilet and made a poo. I squeezed so hard that my ears got blocked.

This was also a new experience.

My ears are still blocked. The poo was at about 2.15 in the afternoon.

In other news, this is the coolest damned kiddy-put-a-coin-in-to-ride thing:

Tuesday, November 08, 2005


I'm back in Cyberjaya again. Everything moves slower.

But this post is not to whine about the lack of sentient life in my surroundings. Oh noooo. It's about something else all together.

Being in Cyberjaya and having no car means that I have to do my grocery shopping at Alamanda. At the big BIG chain supermarket there.

Now, this in itself is no biggie. I've never minded public transport. Having an iPod and a book pretty much makes me invincible to all the cliche annoyances on a bus/train.

But this big supermarket chain thing there has the most annoying security ritual ever. I don't mind leaving my bags at the counter or submitting to a search when I get out of a place. But the buggers here insist on making you hand over your stuff to be sealed in thin plastic bags. Granted this might seem to be a reasonable way prevent theft.

But bugger me backwards if it isn't the most BLOODY HINDERING AWKWARD SECURITY MEASURE EVER.

These sealed baggies that they back to you have no handles. Or grips. Or whatever you call them. So you carry your stuff around gripped tightly like bloody rubbish bags. Fine you can put them in the basket or the push-trolley-cart-whatever-the-fuck-you-call-it thing. But I once went in there with a bag (with handles) of KFC to quickly get a bottle of last minute ketchup. ONE BOTTLE OF KETCHUP. And they made me seal my FOOD in the baggies. Along with my book. And the stack of artwork I had in a file. ALL IN ONE BAG. SO NOW TERRY PRATCHETT SMELLS LIKE THE COLONEL'S DAMNED CHICKEN. Not to mention the artwork. And the proccess took a whole 10 minutes because of my next point about the damned baggies.

They are made of that really thin, floaty plastic. You know the kind. Really cheap and hard to manage. Floating all over the place. The poor bugger behind the sealing machine was wrestling with the stuff like was going to fuck him hard the wrong way. I mean, it was a life and death thing. Crocodile Dundee has nothing, NOTHING, on the poor plastic security sealing baggy dude. Bud Lite salutes you, wrestler of plastic baggies.

It took me all of 30 seconds to run in, get the ketchup and pay at the empty express counter.

Stupid fucking baggies stealing minutes of my life away. I'm a design student dammit. I have procrastinating to do.

ps: Terry Pratchett's "Thud!" is fun.

pps: Everyone give me money so I can buy a ferret at the pet store dammit.

Monday, October 31, 2005

her hump

I'm sure the whole bunch of you have heard the latest wretched single from the Black Eyed Peas.

Does anyone else feel like it's a song being sung by a lady with a hunchback and a collection of disfiguring warts all over her body. And she's wearing a skimpy top and a mini skirt and she's rubbing herself against grimacing men in a club.

Her lovely lady lumps indeed.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

La Jeune mariƩe De Cadavre

So, like, I got to watch The Corpse Bride last night with The Lady.

I was sorely disappointed at the fact that there was no badly translated Malay subtitle for the movie'

I mean, I was expecting something like "Si Perempuan Mahu Kahwin Yang Sudah Mati" or something like that. That would have been cool.

But nit-picky, waste-of-time comments aside, the movie was fucking BEAUTIFUL. Everything was textured and layered like a motherfucker with pretty glowy bits and butterflies and swirlies. The human figures were wonderfully stylistic.

And the MUSIC. OMG. I want the soundtrack to this movie. But only if it has the two piano pieces.

Shame about the story. 'Twas badly paced and and lacked, as The Lady put it, focus.

Lovely movie. Must buy the DVD for the pretty pictures.

Friday, October 28, 2005


I want a great big fucking bottle of Hershey's Chocolate Syrup, a glass of cold milk and a cuddle from her right now.

I feel like SUCH a woman.

But I have needs, damnit.

Monday, October 24, 2005


So, like, I 'm in Kuching and shit.

Which is fun, because the lady who calls me her darling is here.

Now, I adore her, make no mistake about that.

But today, I might have very well fractured my ring finger courtesy of the car door when I went to meet her for lunch. Now, upon informing her of this faux pas, the lady who calls me her darling proceeds to not only NOT give sympathy and lovin' as required by the Relationship Clause, subsection 42.5b which clearly states that, well, I'm owed some pampering, she decides to laugh at me in my suffering and pain.

Which is fine, because she makes up for it with kisses and stuff.

But then, I go home and tell my mother about it. The woman who gave birth to me, she decides to laugh at me too.

Sometimes a man just can't get no love, I tells ya.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

hari ini dalam sejarah

I got out of bed this morning to the sounds of my housemates arguing. Which is pretty much par for the course because the both of them are locked in this really twisted relationship.

I got out of the room to see the lady housemate crying and I asked her what had transpired between the two to produce such a tragic outcome. A lady crying is one of the few things in this world that really gets to me. The other thing is penguins. Especially when they get on their bellies and slide around.

But anyhoo, the reason for the outburst of unhappiness from her direction would be this: Apparently, the gentleman housemate (the definition of their current relationship remains nebulous) had accused me and the Lady of having an affair behind his back.


My flabber was ghasted.

If there were anytime in history where a dramatic rise from the couch followed by a hearty "What the fuck?!?" was ever justified, that moment would have been it.

Things to note:

1) I have a girlfriend, whom I love and adore to bits. I've gushed about her in front of them, in a manly fashion, of course. She has visited before. He has seen her. He has seen how much I love her (Hello, Baby!)

2) The two had had an epic argument a while back, which resulted in people jumping on top of other people's windshields and those people trying to drive away to a Malacca with the former people still attached to the said windshields.

I was not involved and I didn't wish to be, but I was asked played referee for the sake of harmony and I had convinced her to calm down and give him another chance to prove himself. Then after she went to her bedroom to sleep, I spent the night talking to him, telling him how to make it up to her. Advice that he agreed to and never followed. But, it isn't my life, so whatever.


3) Since then I've made an effort to stay out of their way so they could solve their problems without having to put up with the dude from Sarawak with the really small eyes intruding.



If it wasn't he wasn't such a tragic figure of a man, I'd be laughing. A true male chauvinist, his idea of "respect" to a lady is to order her around in front of visitors.

Actually I think I'll laugh anyway.

Irrational bouts of insecurity are so entertaining. ENTERTAINING TO THE EXTREME!!!!!!!!

OMG, I typed "to the Extreme". That is, like, SO nineties.

Friday, October 14, 2005


I can't sleep.


That's right. Especially you over there with the smug-ass grin on your face with your Burberry shirt and your Calvin Klein scent.

Good Lord, the scent. When was the last time you didn't smell like potpourri, you pansy-assed nancy-boy.

Aaargh. I'm too short for this shit.

Now give me all your money, you cock-monger. And be snappy about it.

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman is brilliant.

Kahani is my new hero for selling it to me. I haven't paid her yet. But I WILL!

The Keem was here for the weekend. She brought books and food. And then she brought me SUNDROP!

Sundrop is this drink that I can't seem to find in KL. It is freely available in Kuching, however. AND SHE BROUGHT ME FIVE CANS!!!

Me love you long time, Keemkeem. We will visit Wang Utama(tee hee hee) next time you are around.

Also, she bought me cookies. Muahahaha! I HAVE COOKIES!


Please, in the name of all that is beautiful in the world, let me fall asleep now.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

god damnit

You know what is one of the most fucked up situations you can get yourself into?

You run into the toilet for an emergency deposit that's been waiting for a while. You get on the can and do the transaction and when you're done, the feeling of relief is palpable. So overwhelming that it's almost, but not quite, like an orgasm.

Then you reach over to the left for wipes and the god damned fucking thing is fucking out and you're sitting on the fucking can with your fucking ass covered in fucking shit water because of the splash-back and fuck me if no one is outside.

You say, "But Fishballs, you studly stud of studliness, why not go outside and get the wipes?"

Good lord, do you fucking know how it feels like to have shitty butt cheeks rub together? Take two slices of ham, slap some peanut butter on'em (chunky if you haven't been drinking water) and rub them together. That's how it feels. EXCEPT IT'S HAPPENING TO YOUR BUTTCHEEKS. And you can feel every damned squishy molecule rub together like it's a fucking party in your ass crack.

Thank the creator for shower heads, I tell you. And copious amounts of soap. And therapists.