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Mighty Jacksparrow is an Earth-based sub-intergalactic blogger who enjoys writing and in the same time entertaining his ever-amusing will-kill-to-read fans with sensationally hilarious and at times dramatic musings. This blog offers endless ideas and results; they might be charming most of the times but could be offending in some others. Therefore, it is always noble to remind that if you enjoy the pieces, carry on reading, but if they upset you, do quietly leave like the evening breeze and not like exploding diarrhea, which exactly what you will look like if you ever lose it on me. Enjoy! :D

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

What Happened Today: Part Deux


I one bought a solar-powered leaves-flipping, flower-flapping plastic plant for someone.

Well, the idea was to show my love towards the person. Since my research is in renewable and alternative energy and apparently solar-powered mechanical system will always move as long as the solar panel is exposed to sources of lights, I bought the plastic plant thing and I told her that,

"As long as this thing moves, I shall always love you."

This, I suppose, was to give her the idea that my love will never at all die as long as there is light to power up the plant. And since we will never run out of light, at least not in the short future, I thought this gift was the best philosophical item that I could possible come out with.

Because I thought even though it is unreturned, my love could never die.




* * *



Today, it stopped moving.


What Happened Today



Me at the Energy Laboratory.


* * *

It rained today.

I came back from the lab just before it showered the thirsty soil of Tronoh, a little mining town some thirty miles away roughly from the town of Ipoh, Perak.

As this sentence is written, the rain is still falling but at a lesser rate now.


The view from the room during the rain.


I like it when it rains. The weather cools down and the breeze is just nice for me to comfortable write while drinking a cup of hot black coffee and enjoying a stick of tobacco roll.

Many things happened today.

I just got to know that my paper is quoted in a paper that will soon to be presented in the 5th International Ege Energy Symposium and Exhibition (IEESE-5) at Pamukkale University, Denizli, Turkey. I am very excited and proud with myself that I finally reach this point where my work goes international.


My paper being quoted in other people's paper as his reference.


Late in the afternoon, I received an email from the Programme Head of Mechanical Engineering, UTP. It said:

Dear Mr. Mohamad Nazmi Zaidi Moni:

Congratulations - your paper 'A Preliminary Study on Synthesis Gas Produced by Gasification of Oil Palm Fronds' has been accepted for oral presentation at the 2nd International Conference on Plant Equipment and Reliability (ICPER) 2010.

Oral presentation. This means I will be standing before a number of big shots from the industry - those with doctorate and professorship qualifications - from all over the world, for an hour or so. In other words, me against the world.

This will soon be held at Kuala Lumpur Convention Center sometime in June this year.

And then I make friends with a new kitten:



I named it Denzel.

So I think this could be the day I can happily smile and express my deepest gratitudes for everything.

Alhamdulillah.

* * *

By the way Saripah, thanks so much babe. You know I heart you.

And you too Shee. And you also, including you, you and you, and everyone else too! :)

Monday, March 29, 2010

Squids!


I love squids.

I find them cute when they are alive and yummy when they are dead.

As for the fun of it, do you know that one of the arms of male cephalopods (squids, cuttlefish, octopuses), named hectocotylus, is also its penis?

Yummy.

There are two types of squids that I happen to like so much, the common sotong basah and the gummy sotong kembang. So for the love of sotong, I went online and did my reading on them pretty much for the whole day today.

And apart from the tons of articles and images on squids, I happened to bump into this website that discusses Colossal Squid, or in local tongue, Sotong Gergasi, kot.

Well, takde-lah besar mana anyway.

But the best thing about this website is that, it allows users to 'Build a Squid'. This is where you build a squid, name it, let it loose and monitor its progress. You can play with it too, given that you can bang the unfortunate creature against the monitor wall from the inside using the mouse.


Jackie in the making.


Jackie in the deep blue sea.

Seriously, that is one weird-looking creature.


Seriously it looks real weird from here. But I LOVE it. And damn you all who don't love weird creatures. AHAH! I am gonna love it, and I am gonna love it good, you understand what I'm trying to say?

So far mine, Jackie, a somewhat odd-looking 1-kilogram marine-blue squid with bubble-like spots on it, an annoyingly huge mantle and a pair of strange, paranoid eyes, has been exploring around the deep sea. It had swam through a pack of deadly killer whales, bumped into some krills, and latest as you can see in the screen capture above, it had made friends with an albatross and had a fight with a toothfish.

I think he won the fight. He better win it...





...or somebody's gonna end up in my Tomyam tonight.


* * *


Update: Jackie had just escaped from a scientist. Whew! Way to go Jackie!


Happy Birthdaaayyyy


Happy birthday budak-budak busuk sekalian ( Saripah & Mel-Mel je, Shee tak boleh!). Wish you both an even more prosper and happy life each, and God bless you all.

Takde present lagi so far, but (but! yes, there is a but!) I'll treat you with something once I am back in KL, mmmkay Saripah? As to Mel-Mel, I can't buy the ticket for you just yet but I soon will! Hahah! But I'll figure something out-lah soon too, mmmkay?

Love you both birthday girl and that another one too :b chuph muacks bye.




Sunday, March 28, 2010

The One That Got Away


Just when this post is created, a life-changing event is quite obviously happening.

A total 450km from here, roughly 280 miles away down South, a lady who was once so dear to me is giving away herself in a whole charming traditional ceremony to someone from which I believe to be her future husband.

The lady is my first ex; the person whom I was in love with for a total royal six years before finally life separated us away in its most unique way.

Never mind on the story of how we get separated. What matters is the lady herself. I believe the sensational party is still going on there, with family members cheering and clapping and such, enjoying the moment and seizing the day.

I could imagine how beautiful you are in those silks and velvets. Picturing the enchanting smiles, the pleasing hazel round eyes, the long wavy hair, henna art on your fair skin, ah, you certainly are beautiful today.

And I still wonder who is that man anyway.

Nevertheless, I am very proud of you and how you lead your life, finding your own happiness. My greatest apologies for not be able to attend the glorious event that mark another turning point in your journey of life, despite the invitation that I did receive a couple of weeks earlier. Not that I was avoiding, but clearly life has made us this way, getting far from each other day by day.

For whatever reasons, I hope that he will take care of you at best. I hope he will try his hardest to keep you occupied at times when you mostly need him. I hope he knows that you love only certain types of ice-cream and certain varieties of chocolate so that he won't make the mistake of buying you the wrong ones. I hope he knows that you have intolerance towards silverware and silver jeweleries. I hope that he will never bring you way too spicy food, because it will make you sick once you consume it.

And I hope he knows that you love to be hugged from behind, too.

And for whatever reasons too, I am pretty sure he will fit you primely. We both know that it was not easy to be your hero, in fact, it never was. But the first two years spent courting you up was the best time I ever had in my life, and still is. And to top that, becoming the first person too that was loved entirely by you made me simply stupid; because they say love makes you stupid, and quite frankly I didn't mind about it at all, as long as it was your voice that I listened to for every and each night before I fell asleep.

No, I didn't mind at all.

Thank you for teaching me about love, about sincerity, about virtues and integrity. Thank you for guiding me during when I was lost, for holding my hand when I was blind, for helping me up when I fell down, for calming me down when I was temperamental, and for warming me up when I was cold. Thank you for all the times spent with me, and thank you for all the memories. Thank you for never giving up, and thank you for never giving in. But most of all, thank you, thank you so much for being able to sincerely love me.

I bid you farewell and I bid you goodbye. Take care now, and may your life will soon be more colorful than it ever was. And thank you for letting me listen to you for one last time, just one last time, before it happened; a start of a new beginning, and a beginning of just an end.




I'm happy for you, you know?


* * *

Take me out tonight,
Oh take me anywhere,
I don't care,
I don't care,
I don't care.
"There Is A Light That Never Goes Out"; by The Smiths; taken from the album 'The Queen Is Dead'; 1986, Rough Trade Records.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Story of a Gossip


Many have lately met me in separate occasions, whining about somehow one particular issue.

"They talked bad about me," they said.

Not quite really a mystery to anyone here, no? I am pretty sure that many of you have gone through the same type of problem, where you have seen or heard about, commonly, a number of people who group up regardless in one huge group of separate ones, doing the same routine with the same purpose - to talk about you in an ill manner, to affect particularly your morale.

I am not going to elaborate about these people I often refer to as useless, worthless, good for nothing pieces of shits that only live as to live up to completely rubbish-grade kind of lives. These are the people that I despise entirely for they are only as proud as a coward is, never at all they are any braver, in fact, never did, never will. In fact, I rather ride with a bucketful of miniature stinking baboon with bubonic butt plague and sneezes zits through their mouth for a whole day long than to sit with this kind of people, listening to what they talk about other people for a whole five bloody minutes.

Sorry, but I am just not into listening and conversing about other people's failures.

Nevertheless, as to answer the question that was asked by a few of you on 'Why People Talk Bad About Others?', I shall then continue this post to its end.


* * *



Two reasons.

There are two reasons why people talk bad about other people. There are many, but this time I will only discuss the two main reasons only.

The main reason is because, well, jealousy. When they cannot be what they want to be, they trash those who already be. Simple logic. The explanation on this can be found in the post Alpha, Beta, Gamma and Shits.

The second reason is quite interesting.

Everyone wants to be a center of attention. Don't you fucking deny it because, deep inside, you know that you do have it. And we human in the modern era pay high attention towards news and TV-jingles that reveals latest updates on things. It means that, subconsciously, we learn that by having news, we are more likely to be the center of the crowd, with accord to the cravings of the crowd where each news make a difference.

There is nothing wrong being the news-bearer.

But things become awfully wrong when you start to bring ill-kind of news (because it's human nature to be interested in another human's life, especially when it comes to failure-related stories). Also, it is as well good to note that those who tend to spread bad news, regardless true or not, about others to others, are the people from which they do not have much to tell about themselves. And these are the people who we usually refer to as, The Inferior Fucks.

The Inferior Fucks are the people who don't really have much to tell about themselves; they live an awfully dull life (but they refuse to admit it, in fact, they even brag that they live like rockstars when everyone could always see they are not not even up to a Popsicle level), they do not have many achievements to share with (also they refuse to admit because they say they do have it, only that 'we do not need to brag about it') and they as well do not have other good things to say and talk about. The Inferior Fucks also live with many life failures that in order to make them feel any better, they just talk about the failures of others.

That's for sure will make them a superstar right away. People do listen to gossips, and the easiest way to become the superstar at the table is, well, to be a gossip. But that is for sure too the lowest grade of superstar ever been made out of oneself, and will in the end causes a lot of trouble should the one being gossiped about takes the decision to retaliate.

For instance, someone used to talk behind me even until recently about how bad I was with ladies many years back, like what, ten years ago? Fine, I was just a kid back then, nothing great. We all have been through that. But this chap kept on talking about it over and over at food outlets whenever he was out with his friends. I used to not give much of a damn about it because, well clearly enough he wasn't any brighter than a dim lightbulb, but lets just say that I was in a bad mood when I overheard him saying craps about me to his friends without him knowing that I was just standing behind him at the time.

Now this chap, was a close friend to me until somewhere along the way he chose to stay away. And I wasn't much into talking him to come back, one thing because it sounds gay, and second thing is, it still sound as gay. And then he talked bad about me to his friends, 3 males and 4 females at the time. But many thanks to our friendship that I know many of his failures - most of them are beyond any achievable level, completely unbearably stupid and idiotic kind of failures.

So when I overheard him talking about me the other day, first I did was to put both my hands on his shoulder (so that he remained seated for all time) and I said, "that's enough about me. Let's talk about you."

And for a freaking five minutes, I was the center of attention.

Not that I am proud of being such a gossip, but after three years I finally decided to stand up to myself. And I did. I let all his dirty secrets out from my chambers of duty in front of his friends, just so that he learned how it feels to be a character of gossips. And as well as for me to feel how it feels to become a gossip, at least for a little while in the name of the duty of vengeance.

So my points are; 1) Do not be a gossip for it is the lowest level of things you could do with your intelligence, 2) Do not listen to gossip because it is better to seek the truth from the person being gossiped, 3) Gossipers are worst than flies that die under my foot, and 4) Retaliate when necessary.

I did retaliate because I thought it was about time for that useless chap of mine to shut up and start talking about other things, or maybe start doing something good and talk about it rather than to sit down doing nothing but talk bad about me, because sooner or later when I feel that I couldn't take it no more, I might spring the leak, which I did. And you know what?



It felt fucking great.


Thursday, March 25, 2010

An Easy Guide To Angry Men




Click for a better view, mmmkay?


Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Naming Babies.


At the driving range, Clearwater Sanctuary Golf Resort.

"Wei Jack." He positioned himself to hit the ball.

"Apa."

"Aku ingat kan..." He pulled the iron backward and swung, and Ka-pow! There it went, the ball, 180 yards.

"Kau ingat apa?"

"Aku ingat la kan," he said. "Ni bila aku dah kawen sok la kan..."

"Mm-hmm..." I positioned myself to be ready to hit the ball straight to the island. The cigarette hung in between my lips.

"Nanti bila aku dah kawen, aku ingat..."

I pulled the iron and started to give a full swing towards the lonely golf ball on the green mat.

"...aku nak namakan anak-anak aku dengan nama ex aku la."

"Pffttttt...!!" Ka-put. There went the ball, 4 feet and into the lake with an annoying splash. My cigarette fell to the floor.

I looked at him, who was then sitting on the patio chair while holding the golf stick and smoking his mild Dunhill.

"What the hell, man?" I said. I took the fallen ciggie and tapped it a little.

"What?" he replied. "I mean, wouldn't it be merrier if I name my daughters with my exes's names?"

"Right," I said, still annoyed from the unexpected confession. "What about your sons then?"

"Well," he said and made some smoke rings. "Let my wife name them after her exes."
"Yeah man," I said. "Whatever."

I put another ball and positioned myself again. Aim for the island, I said to myself. I pulled the stick high and around, ready for a full swing. And here we go, full swing!

"Or maybe we name them after you."

"Pffffftttttttttttttttttt....!"

* * *


Last la aku pegi range dengan kau Sham.


Monday, March 22, 2010

Needles


Let me get inside your head
Let me show you I'm prepared
Let me stick my needles in
And let me hurt you again


'Needles'; performed by Seether;
Taken from the album 'Disclaimer II';
2004.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Scars from Unveiled Secrets


There are certain things in life that are supposed to remain secrets.

There are things that I was supposed not to know at all costs. These things are the things from which if I've got to know will only disturb me for long, if not only for short, and they shall remain undisclosed to my knowledge, whatever it takes. But unfortunately for my case, one by one of these collections of things that were supposed to remain as the darkest of secrets leaked from every direction, with me being their end destination.

And this has certainly bothered me.

By chance, it wasn't that I tried to dig things out from any reliable source but I guess The Almighty had some plans for me, from which I suppose that too was and still is a secret up until now, and for whatever reasons that these secrets were made unveiled upon me, I still feel that they were utterly unnecessary. Despite all evidence that I had found myself completely disturbed by the revelations, there were certain feelings too that I still do not get to altogether explain.

Now, under specific muse, I have slowly learned that the revelations that had been made against my will were in fact beneficial. For instance, let say I have a close friend from which never I did and never I will think that she would go around, me unknowing, jeopardizing things, but she did. And enlightened by certain hints and information, I soon got to know about it, and this surely will drive me into certain mix of emotions, from which the relationship between us both may then be taken to a state of emergency, if not a complete war.

This is where I soon know that she is the rat in the family. And no one forgives a betrayer.

Looking from many perspectives, I can easily conclude that, despite the affected emotions from knowing things that are better left unknown, there are also beneficial things that can be derived from the ultimate occasion. Now that I know that she is definitely a rat, a certain precaution steps have soon to be taken as to prevent her from causing more damages to Le Familie. If absolute diplomacy cannot bring order back to the situation, brute intimidation may conveniently be used, as long as the objective to shut her up is met.

But the scars always remain.

At the end of the day, personally, I still feel that certain things are better left untold, don't you think?


* * *

By the way, thanks for calling, Fiza.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Nothing?


OMG wtf hahahahahaha

best Chrome extension ever!



[Untitled]



Friday, March 19, 2010

Coffee Lover


"I'm a coffee lover," she said to me.

"Really," I replied. I looked at her deep into the eyes and smiled politely. I tapped the ash off my cigarette into the black ashtray and took a sip from a cup of steaming hot black coffee. And then I was back with my cigarette, with my eyes still staring at hers.

"How long have you been with coffee?" I asked her.

"Three," she said. "Or four, I am not sure. But it sure is a long time."

"So I figure," I said, "that you must know your coffee well."

"Of course."

"Really." I tapped my cigarette ash again before proceeding to take more puffs from it and exhaled the whitish smoke freely into the thin air, admiring the shape it made before it slowly dispersed and disappeared, leaving not at all any evidence but the smell of it. And then I took a look at her again.

"So tell me," I said. "Tell me what is the most notable difference between arabica and robusta."

She made a confused face, and said, "what?"

"Hm," I silently sighed. Just like the way I predicted.


Disappointing.


* * *

Coffee is an art; it is considered to be one of the most perfected art since a very long time and still is perfected for over and over again as time passes by. Earlier consumed by Sufis (coffee first appeared as Muslim beverage) in monasteries all over the Arab world, coffee have made its way to almost every inch of inhabited lands on earth, now being one popular beverage that is consumed everyday, non-stop as the earth rotates on its axis.

And as the number of coffee drinkers grow large, many have dedicated their lives to do anything that has got to do with coffee drinking. These are the people from which we occasionally refer to as avid coffee drinkers, coffee-addicts and coffee lovers. Though there are many who claim themselves as coffee lovers, not many of them really are.

By being a coffee lover, you must first know your coffee. And that, I believe, is quite already an obvious fact. How do you love something, without knowing particularly what it is? You surely have to know your subject before you start to love it, hence the necessity for a coffee lover to know about his/her supreme beverage in detail, for knowing just the surface information of coffee does not make you a coffee lover but someone who only like to drink coffee.

I started drinking coffee when I was only 5. It all started when I happened to have so much curiosities in me when I was a child. Mom happened to be quite a coffee drinker even until today - the reason why I was never short of coffee supply that time. Coffee got me hooked up so much with it that I started to learn all about it right away.

The most essential knowledge that you have to know about coffee is about the bean itself. You must know about its species; the two main species that are grown for today's coffee consumption are Arabica and Robusta - the first having a better flavor, aroma and body than the latter. Having to distinguish this, you have to drink hell a lot of coffee to know and tell the differences from one to another.

Next will be the processing. You have to know how coffee berries are picked and dried, how the beans are extracted, and then roasted; undergoing a specific caramelization process where the beans are physically and chemically altered to more brownish color, depending on the temperature and time of roasting - dark roast that is sugary and smoother, to light roast that is generally stronger. There is also a method of roasting where margarine is introduced to the beans during roasting process - a method that produces kopi Melayu and white coffee, a much darker and aromatic coffee beverage when prepared.

Next you will need to know the preparation of coffee. You have to know what kind of grind is needed for each type of coffee-maker; espresso machine, drip machine, vacuum brewer and coffee press, and also the brewing methods. Then you proceed to learn about the beverage itself - cafe americano, caffe Latte, cappuccino, macchiato, mocha, long black, and flat white, among other things.

Knowing is one thing, trying them is another. But it doesn't mean that you need to drink all types of coffee beverage that then only you can be a coffee lover. No, it is more than that.

Now these are only the basics, for there are a lot more to learn about coffee as a whole. Only by at least knowing all these then you can call yourself a coffee lover. It is not easy to reach this level, for even coffee masters have to go through certain tests to achieve their title - it takes a lot of courage, patience and time.

So don't call yourself a coffee lover if you only drink Nescafe 3-in-1 all time and the only thing you order off the counter is a tall ice-blended coffee.


Tall



I'm a tall guy.

In metric, my height is to date 179 cm, nearly 180cm. I am not sure if I am still growing by the millimeters each year, but if I do, that will make me reach 180cm in no time.

That's pretty tall for average men in Malaysia.

Let's refer to this diagram:



My dad's height is, to date, 184cm, and with his average daily weight that stands solidly at 125kg, he is the type of person you might do not want to cross your path with at any given time. I still have the shivers whenever he stands next to me - that guy really has his own gravity field.
Despite the fact that there are a lot of advantages by being tall, to find a suitable mate (or two LOL) is somewhat harder. It sure looks awkward to walk with someone that is only slightly above my shoulder line (that is 154cm, where an average Malaysian woman's height is 158cm) side by side.

Therefore I think it would be much easier if I can settle down with someone with a range of height from 165cm to 170cm at least.

Now THAT is even more harder to find.

Unless of course, someone with such criteria happens to read this post and make an introduction as soon as she finishes reading. But is there any?




Well, let's find out.

A Writing Tip


Some of you have previously requested a guide on how to write beautifully, my way.

So today I am going to teach you how.

Let's look at the picture below:



For those of you who recognize this lady, she is Anne Hathaway, taken during when she attended the Oscar Award Ceremony 2009. A lovely lady indeed, she will be our subject of writing today. To ease the learning process, I will guide you from step to step of writing process.

1. Know your subject.

Obviously enough, you have to first know what you are writing about. For this one time around, it is Anne Hathaway.

2. Describe your subject.

Define Anne Hathaway. Say, she is of course a woman, from which is I'd say in her prime, late twenties. A definitely tall lady, she has what appears to be very delicate bodyline and strongly alluring clear, fair skin topped with dark, almost black long hair. A set of round eyes, straight nose and beautiful lips. She is obviously looking back and smiling. She wears an evening gown, say, silver in color? Alright, we have enough information already. Let's move on.

3. Pay attention to details.

Let's talk about her dress; full length, bareback, strapless bodice, a type we occasionally refer to as Haute Couture dress, made from satin and velvet maybe, with this glitters of gems and all. Let's then look at her accessories; she is wearing a pair of earrings, probably of pearls, and if you look close enough you will find that she is as well wearing a ring on her right ring finger. Her hair is made into a bun at the back, with a bit of tailing strip of it on the side of her face. Look close enough and you can find a mole on the back of her right shoulder. And her teeth look perfect.

Alright, that's enough for now.

4. Form your sentences.

It's time to make a paragraph of your subject and add some definition to it. Let's write something simple like this:

A lady stands with her head facing to her right side, smiling brightly. Her round eyes look excited. She wears a full length, bareback and strapless bodice silver evening gown, with glittering gems on it, Houte Couture style. Her earrings and ring shine from the light shower. She looks pretty, more or less vogue, with her black hair tied into a bun while a bit of it is left to hang freely at the side of her face, exposing her fair skin.

And yada yada. You know the drill.

5. Hammer time.

This is the hardest part. To write about something is simple, but to write about something and enable your readers to imagine it perfectly like you describe is never really simple. That is the challenge that you have to slowly take and work on. Don't worry. Practice makes perfect.

With some bits of imagination and wordplay, you should be able to come out with something like a full story of just one particular subject:


* * *


From far I saw her standing by herself, amidst the busy crowd.

She looked rather worried, clearly shown by the expression she pulled on her lovely face. That perfectly round eyes looked even lovelier from where I stood, and there's more to that; that dainty velvet red lips and her carefully-tied black hair that exposed her alluring long neck. Her bareback, strapless silver-colored evening dress was extremely stunning - quite an immediate caviar for hungry eyes that long for such exquisite wear, especially on an evening such as this. Whenever she moved, even for a slight bit, the ornaments and jewels that were beforehand attached to the dress shone delightfully, attracting more and more attention from every part of the ballroom.

She still did not see me.

Her head scouted around. A bit of hair that was left hanging freely on her cheek enhanced her gorgeous look by a hundred points; two hundred when it flew in the air each time she rotated her head. Her baby skin looked delicately enchanting; drawing me to arrange my step in the best of manners, all the way closer to her who at the time was still looking for that something that quite extensively has gotten her into a state of worry.

And then she turned around right when I was about to approach her.

And there she went; her tantalizing eyes looked even more tantalizing, especially when she pulled that notably pleasant smile to me. Her beautiful rows of teeth brought up her warmth to completely a whole new level of excitement - she was just perfect; so adorable, so lovable, definitely a dear darling of the whole evening. She looked rather relieved now, seeing me in front of her.

She's just splashing, sensationally gorgeous.

And she was wearing the earrings that I once bought her as a gift - the most expensive gift I could have ever bought for a lady, and as well as the ring that has enabled us both to be what we are now; a husband and wife, and as fiery as the sun could for long still be, my desire and love for her were always intense, and still, never really they were in the past at all satisfied. In fact, they just grew more and more, for this one particular lady, she was just too irresistible. The more I had her, the more I want her - and the cycles goes on. Don't get me wrong; it was not that she wasn't being a good lover to me, no, never at all. She was absolutely the best ever, obviously enough a Miss Right, and never better. No, it was not about her being anything bad that made me wanting her more to be right at the space in between my two arms every long night. And it wasn't because she didn't fulfill any of my need whatsoever, nor being missing, among other things, from my life but;

It's because she's my wife.


* * *


Well, something like that. Good luck!






Thursday, March 18, 2010

Breakfast, Anyone?



Two pairs of toast, a pot of coffee by the press, and a stick of little fine Corona.

Have a seat, please =)


Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Gas, Fiza Falak and Cookie


Unlike many other days, today seemed to be somewhat spectacular.

Two years worth of effort has finally paid off.



Above is the image of the synthesis gas flare that is combusted right from the bottom side gas outlet of the gasifier reactor. This gas is produced from thermal degradation of biomass inside the reactor. This producer gas, if supplied into an spark ignition engine, will right away becomes its fuel, hence the future of replacing gasoline/diesel/LNG driven motor-vehicles with the aforementioned fuel.

With a few refinements, the gas is pretty much alright for usage.

One day, my team and I will replace petroleum derivative fuels with this. Please do pray for our success, occay? :)


* * *

Fiza called today.

She needs a few helps regarding her writing work, in which I did attend to her cry. And then she took these images; a pair of notes she wrote during when we were in conversation and posted them in her Twitter:





Which is very sweet of her. By the way you really have to work on your handwriting, darling. I will soon come back home and we'll be right where we belong again in no time, occay?


* * *

Met yet another idiot today.

Let call it Cookie.

I was in the room with the guys when this Cookie appeared in my YM and started thrashing me in many ways; my golfing was at an amateur level, I am a wannabe, I am this I am that, apparently a very brittle summary of things taken from my blog. We started laughing when Cookie lost it in YM, blasting off like an old oven. Cookie even touched about how I suppose to describe the way I smoke a cigarette at the very beginning - I should lit it, not lighted it. And me and Roomey and the rest of the gang started jumping around laughing upon reading the comment.

Guess what, Cookie?

EITHER lit or lighted is acceptable and completely grammatically correct and interchangeable, and either may be used as the past tense and past participle of the verb to light.

But then oh well you know, some people. Cookie even faced me (us, to be exact) with a disguised account. My, that sure did took a lot of effort.

And then Cookie told me to kill myself. That's when Roomey lost it and started laughing, and one thing about Roomey is that, his laughter is contagious. Soon enough, everyone started laughing. Instead of me supposedly being all down and depressed, my head went to a circus mood instead.

Well it's good to know that I still can bring effect to some people. By just writing a blog! How that cannot be anymore fascinating?! It's the coolest shit ever!

If you can't bear to read this blog, don't read it. What's the big deal? Even an infant could tell. It's even easier than to decide where to eat tonight. Alright, Cookie? Next time do face me like a man instead from making all new disguised account just to communicate with me. Please, yo, if you can't politely correct sans the bitter bite, eschew the extraneous commentary! This is a personal blog, not an amateur intelligence-contest message board. But at least you tried, right? Right. But it didn't happen the way you expected. So why don't you move on to other people instead? That kid over there at the corner looks like he can use some bits of whacking.

But don't forget your mask, or he will recognize you! Oh, right, you know this already.

So readers all, what do we tell to this type of people?






EXACTLY! Hi Five yeah!



Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Get a Life


Do you remember when was the last time people told you to get a life?

Do you? I certainly do.

People oftenly tell other people to 'get a life' whenever they see that this other people are doing things that they see are not in accordance with 'life', hence the need for them to 'get a life'. These things, for example are being dull and static all day, or being studying for too long, or being nosy all the time, among other things. These are the things that people generally see as 'not having a life' so whoever doing those, they really need to 'get a life'.

Some of the conscious ones, they can even tell when they are not having life, hence "I don't have a life."

As I once understood the people who oftenly tell others to 'get a life', at least from my estimation, must be having some hell of a life, so I though that that must have been the reason why they stand up to others and speak up to them and tell them to 'get a life', for a reason as simple as because the life the others are having is a living hell, or hell for a living, not hell of a living, which they are proudly having. But all the way to here today I have came across many scenes where the phrase 'get a life' was massively thrown, and as I carefully observed and analyzed them, I changed my thoughts a few times and today I could easily say that I have certainly changed my point of perspective about the whole 'get a life' business and the way I think about this particular phrase - 'get a life'.

You want to know what I personally think about it?



I think it's bullshit.


* * *

What is life?

My definition for life is simple - it is the opposite of death.

So as long as you are not dead, you are pretty much alive. So by being alive, it means that you have a life (life on earth, not the afterlife - that is totally a different story). So by having a life, what else, of life, for you to be getting?

Let's look at the definition provided for 'get a life':-
This popular culture phrase 'get a life' is an originally American idiom and catch phrase usually intended as a taunt, to indicate that the person being so addressed (called a 'nolife') is devoting an inordinate amount of time to trivial or hopeless matters. The phrase has also appeared as a generally more emphatic variant of the taunt 'get a job' and implies the addressee needs to go out and make their way in the world, without being supported by outside sources such as parents or benefactors. It may also be directed at someone who is perceived as boring or single-minded; suggesting they acquire some other, more practical interests or hobbies and get dates, find a job, or move to their own house.

It is also applied to so-called workaholics and others who are perceived as dedicated to their work (out of 'labor of love' as opposed to money or loyalty to the company) but not taking the time to relax or enjoy life.

Sometimes the phrase is used to describe people who are viewed as officious or meddling in others' affairs. It is another way of saying 'get your own life', or 'mind your own business'.
So the people who usually get 'get a life' thrown at are most likely dull, boring, workaholic, do not enjoy much, do not hang out much, do not party much, do not shop much, et cetera. The people who are having life are the people who have the exact opposite criteria of those who need to 'get a life'.

Oh really?

Once I asked some of the people I came across in the past, "what is getting a life ?". And the answers were almost typical - go shopping, go outing, go for movies, go see the world, go out and enjoy, go partying, get high, go spend some cash in exchange for some fun, go fuck a bull, et cetera.

Nothing at all about serious, meaningful, life-related goals in the long run. What, don't tell me you're going to party the whole time? Don't you get backache or something? Or run out of cash? Oh so your daddies supply you cash, like all the time? Don't you think about your whole life in the long run? Come on.

But what do I care about what you think anyway. You have a life, don't you?

So here comes the question, what if the 'life' of these people who occasionally get 'get a life' thrown at them, is the life that they enjoy? What if being workaholic makes them happy rather than wasting time (the way they see it, at least) laughing like drugged nincompoops by the drain over completely nothing at all, with friends? What if by doing works or study are the things that at least ensure them to have good lives after this? They are just doing their roles as a whole in the community, and perfectly enough, they don't even become at all barricades for you to go out and have fun and 'get a life'. So why are you, yes you proud people who claim to so far be having quite a life, to poke them 'nolives' and tell them to 'get a life'?

Aren't you just being nosy? And now my readers all, what we usually tell to people who are nosy about other people's business?






Exactly.


My World


The Love
The Life
The Thing
My Everything.


Monday, March 15, 2010

The Morning That Was Particularly Just Too Wrong


A certain specific event occurred to me this fine morning.

Nothing makes me feel better than to wake up to see the sun shone onto my face through the blinds, with crystal-like effects from the window which was covered with marks from early morning dews. Soon as I woke up, I boiled the water and prepare myself a completely astounding cups of Sumatran margarine-fried, caramelized coffee by the press and had myself a puff or two of fine Virginian roll while I was with it. I turned on the speaker and listened to Andrea Bocelli while having both things I found royal to me, this particular fine morning. I felt completely refreshed for having such a manly start.

The only thing that could break the peace that time is either painstaking human stupidity at a mass level, or completely unexpected, surprising surprise that happens to catch me by, or course, surprise.

Let's just say I happened to know this one particular girl whom I supposed to be very charming, at least to me. You know, my definition of charming is always abstract; inconsistent, vague, unclear at all, but still as promising. Me and this girl, we had some bits of chats - nothing in particular very much into flirting - just some very, very casual talks.

Now this lady happens to like my voice because, somehow from my speech over the phone, her auditory system and brain interpret it as almost, but not quite, entirely unlike a male flight attendant, which is wrong, because I always picture myself speaking like a pilot on a freaking Star Destroyer, which is non-existing just yet, at least not for a hundred years or so. Nevertheless I happened to speak like that and she got her attention on me, totally, and though this has got nothing to do at all with what this whole story is all about, I just find it entertaining enough to include this completely astonishing, spectacular finding in one whole chunk of paragraph, 3 minutes worth of writing, just to screw with those who claim I always boast about myself in my blog, because since you were already at it, might as well I play along, no?

Moving on now.

I opened my email today to check on my mail, only to read a lot of them - some followers needing me to proofread their articles, engineering conferences alert, an email from MAS ticketing, an email from a lady who wanted me to teach her English, an email from a guy who wanted me to teach him English, and finally two emails that caught my attention - one from an angry guy who told me to stay off his girl (girl here means a lady from which he has been continuously struggling to court for almost a year now but she just isn't much into him, let alone being in a position where it is socially-approved to be called his girl but he did anyway just to prove that the Earth is pyramidal in shape, well good luck with that) and an ex boyfriend who wanted me to tell the ex girlfriend not to contact him anymore.

Let's not talk about the angry kid, because by doing so, he will only get angrier. He either will shoot a ballistic missile towards my room anytime soon, or die from a heart failure and blood pressure, whichever comes first. And that guy is somebody in campus, I could always deal with it later.

Now the next one is interesting. This one is about the girl I earlier mentioned.

Now, with all due respect why, why would I want to do that? Telling an ex girlfriend that her ex boyfriend wants her to stop contacting him? Why, do I look like a messenger now? What, do I look like I've got nothing better to do? If it's an ex girlfriend wanting me to speak to her ex boyfriend to stay the FUCK away from her, well, I might just do it.

But an ex boyfriend wanting me to tell his ex girlfriend to stop contacting him? Come on! I rather sit down quietly all day looking at a lonely egg lying on the table on an egg-hatching duty hoping it will hatch into a raccoon sometime soon!


I just don't fuckin' believe it.


Wait, raccoon don't lay eggs. Whatever.

Point is, come on. You are manly enough to do such a small task. It's not rocket science. It's not like proposing (oh yeah, if anyone asks me to help them with relationship proposals, bear in mind that you will either succeed with bombarding colors like a hero does, or we're just gonna fuck things up and end up with me patting your back as you cry by the drain from the epiphany, either way it's your call but I'll still help anyway with the sentiment :b) or breaking out a seriously bad news. It's just, like what, telling her?

No more stuffs like that, please. And stop stalking me. I'm a guy for God's sake. Have some pride. And I'm not digging into your ex, not now at least. So take some time to grow up, do something that matters, be a man, and stop this completely rubbish, nonsensical act.


Seriously.



Sunday, March 14, 2010

Why Cars Are Better Than Women





Giahahahahah


Saturday, March 13, 2010

Paranoia



Finished with my woman 'cause she couldn't help me with my mind
People think I'm insane because I am frowning all the time

All day long I think of things but nothing seems to satisfy
Think I'll lose my mind if I don't find something to pacify

Can you help me? occupy my brain?
Oh yeah

I need someone to show me the things in life that I can't find
I can't see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind

Make a joke and I will sigh and you will laugh and I will cry
Happiness I cannot feel and love to me is so unreal

And so as you hear these words telling you now of my state
I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could but it's too late

Can you help me? occupy my brain?
Oh yeah.



Friday, March 12, 2010

How To Fight Like A Girl


6 Types of Girls You Want To Avoid


Thursday, March 11, 2010

Occay. This Stuff's Just Addictive




After this I wanna put bunny ears on my head! I'm a Playboy Playmate! Pwnd!