Sunday, September 30, 2012


The NEW Apple iPod by imemgee
The NEW Apple iPod, a photo by imemgee on Flickr.
I came from the boy band era, whereby I started as a fan of New Kids on the Block. Donnie Wahlberg was not that bad. I still watch Blue Blood once in a while.

When Boyzone filled the atmosphere, I had always thought that the late Stephen Gately was a five year old boy admired by 16 year old girls.

I was also a firm believer that Kevin Richardson from Backstreet Boys was actually a talented man. He was not a boy. Nick Carter's voice, in my opinion, was weird and toneless.

I disliked Justin Timberlake as I had always trusted that Jason Chasez sounded better in Bye Bye Bye.

I thought that Lee from 911 was short and unattractive. Sadly, I never recalled the other two group members. 

98 Degrees sang good songs but they were more into girls like Jessica Simpson and I have always thought that she was overrated. 

At the time when Westlife was made famous, I was too sick to hear about Mark (because my one of the girls loved him) and never interested in guys with blond hair.

Blue? Well, they were not a boy band. They were...a group of singing average looking people.
How about Il Divo? Perhaps, they should show better skills at singing their own song to make it famous.

I thought that boy band was just something which came from that era. So, it was quite surprising when I had eventually downloaded this song and listed it in my playlist:)

Baby you light up my world like nobody else,
The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed,
But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell,
You don't know, Oh oh,
You don't know you're beautiful!!!
- What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction thoughts?

Sorry girls. It was better to be old and had better taste than  being young and have One Direction in a any show. Oh my Gabbana, I could not imagine any particular chances for me to scream like the girls who cried during Bieber's concert! Who was that Malay looking girl in MTV by the way? Please tell her that she looked horrendous! Nothing like Selena Gomez...uh...uh...uh...

But I liked "What Makes You Beautiful". It was not that bad. I mean, it was catchy, the lyrics were good and it got its spot during Olympic closing ceremony. Even though it was quite early, but...let just applaud the apperance. Or course, I was waiting for Beady Eye, John Lennon and Queen for hours and never expected them to perform but hey, I was such a pain :P

However, that was not my point, love.
This song, in my opinion, had a lesson to be learned. Let's put it this way:

Baby you LIGHTS up my WORLDS like nobody else,
The way that you FLIPS your hair GET me overwhelmed,
But when you SMILES at the ground it ain't hard to TELLS,
You DOESN'T know,
Oh oh,
You don't KNOWS you IS beautiful!!!

My mother, the teacher, gave me the book which was supposed to be used by all teachers who was teaching Math and Science in English. When I received the book, I finished all the exercises and made sure that I learned well before I went for the interview with the British company I was working for.

That happened back in year 2003 which was all the way before I graduated. Several years later, PPSMI has been abolished but still, the lesson from the book was still at the back of my mind. The first lesson that I learned was present tense. When to use the letter S and when to drop it :)

S for Sha, I told myself and the book taught me this:

{I-You-We-They} flip (no S)
{He-She-It} flips (with S)

I'm not perfect and I am still learning but I shall try my level best to adapt to any feedback given by others. That is the reason why I'm keeping quiet in Twitter when I see that someone is proudly using this hash tag:


Bila pula kau tweet? Tak nampak pun! #flipstable

Flips + Table = she/he flips the table.
Flip + Stable = I/you flip the stable.

Kandang kuda mana yang kau terbalikkan?

I am confuse. But I am still very silent. Frankly speaking, I don't see the point in correcting when I already know for a fact that showing a dictionary or a grammar book will just make me a hot story and send a person wailing for her follower's sympathy :)

Forget it.
Let's just learn together, shall we?

p/s: I wear shawl but I'd rather watch Buddy Valastro flips the cake in Cake Boss. My shawls are not my hair :)

Friday, September 28, 2012

antologi punggung sakit

the type of tweet that I like
As I was munching the ala carte Cheese Burger in Aseana, KLCC, I scrolled my timeline via Galaxy Note and viewed this:

"Seorang nok telah mengutuk cara masakan spaghetti carbonara aku yang menggunakan cheddar cheese. Memanglah kau lebih hebat masak dari aku sebab kau lebih tua dari aku. Makcik!"

I grinned. Twitter has its own way to amuse me. Always amusing me, I will say. It is not a green pastures, where everything is honest and true. Aye, there are quite number of things you should learn... 

Like how some lies are believed in the most sincerest ways.
Like how some people love to be complimented.
And some people hate to be criticized.

There are different ways of handling criticism too.

Like this...
"Siapa kata kerja cikgu tabika itu hina? Mesti mak dia kerja tukang sapu sampah kat sekolah. Bukan macam bapak aku yang kerja cikgu. Perlu jadi sarcasm."

I am thinking that the sarcastic approach in accepting feedback is sometimes hilarious.

Things can be so childish.
Or stupid.
Or self-reflecting.

Who cares if you're a teacher or your father is a teacher in the same county and your letter keeps flying to his school address? Come on. In the first place, what are you trying to portrait? 

So what if you're teacher and people complain about teachers? Do you have to condemn a janitor's daughter just like the way she condemn you as a teacher's daughter? Now tell me what is the different between you and the janitor's daughter? Same mentality, my dear. Both are too funny to be true :)

Some even responded like this...
"Ye. Aku nak goreng karipap ni. Sarcasm saja kerana karipap itu amusing."

Now, this is amazing. Some people want to be sarcastic. Aye, a sarcastic clown:)

There are numerous tweets like this...
"Kau kata aku andartu pastu syak aku lesbian sebab aku umur 27 tahun pastu tak kahwin lagi. Jadi, kau tu apa ya "kakak"? I thought kau dah 3 series."

Well, this, my lovely lass, is a statement which mention that the Twitter will love to just live up until the age of 29. Once again, it is a personal attack with no basis :)

Ironically, all these wonderful tweets published with a smiley icon in the end. Proud maybe? I am not that sure, lass. Aye, sometimes I think that it is purposely done but then again, we always have an option to check, isn't it? 

If you say that you Google everything including a cheddar carbonara recipe, then perhaps you can just check all your statements - whether it is grammatically, sensibly and technically correct. Otherwise, you will end up using this word:

"An inappropriately strong negative emotional response from a perceived personal insult. Characterized by strong feelings of shame. Frequently associated with a cessation of communication and overt hostility towards the "aggressor."

As I mentioned in my earlier post, inzal tu apa. senggama tu apa - some words are technically being translated and used due to the decency of translation (even though Merriam-Webster and Google Translate disagree)

So, buntut sakit?
Why do we have to smack other people's butt when you're the one with haemorrhoids?
Do you want everyone to see your pimply butt?


p/s: Burger bakar might be overrated due to some tweets by the rural people. But then again, if I say that Muar is rural then a butt-hurt girl will point her finger to Alor Gajah asking...what?

Thursday, September 27, 2012

inzal tu apa. senggama tu apa.

close your eyes and breath by poordittums
close your eyes and breath, a photo by poordittums on Flickr.

Folks, I have been wondering.
When someone mentions the word fuck or horny, why are you feeling angry?
Why do you call that person insolent? No manners? Kurang ajar? 

Folks, why are you looking peculiarly at a girl who mention the word ass?
Or pussy? Or even balls? 

Folks, why are you unhappy when someone smile and say babi?
Why are you saying that it is a bad word?

Folks, do you mind if a girl in hijab curse in public?
Her avatar is showing her picture in a hijab which covers her breast.  She tweet or blog,
"Fuck off you horny bitch!"
Will you forgive her?

Okay folks.

Now, why are smiling when she says,
"Kalau mengutuk saya membuatkan awak inzal, silakan. "
"I miss my nok."

Does this means that we can't translate the words?
Because, if we do, then....
Can you please...please...tell me the meaning of these words?

I'm just clueless right now. No to fuck and yes to senggama?
Bad girl if she says horny but a saint when she says inzal?

Now, shall I say, "Pornografi makanan membuatkan saya inzal."
Will you forgive me?
Or perhaps, "Mind fucking."
So, does this means I'm rude. is Thursday. Must go home early.
I miss my nok.
 Nok tu apa?

Flipping my shawl while scratching my head :)

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

4 wives and 1 husband of yesterday :+wondermilk

My post today will be a simple one:
4 Wives and 1 Husband of Yesterday

1. What?
It was pay day after long suffering period between getting the salary early last month, festive season and getting the salary on time this month.

2. When?

3. Where?
+wondermilk, Publika, Solaris Dutamas, Kuala Lumpur

4. Who?
Me and the girls:)

5. How?
We went by a car. Good news. Since we reached Publika after 6:00 p.m, the parking cost was only RM1! Well, a new shopping mall with less outlets and more cafe was a blessing. We had purposely chose this place since we have never been to Wondermilk before. Thanks to my accomplice in Ceritera Seorang Bookaholic (CSB) named Fae;I had eventually set my foot at the place which has been introduced to me via Instagram. It took me five months to made yesterday a reality:)

My target was: cupcakes.

Obviously Lola Cake was tempting but I had to remember that desert was only to satisfy lust. So, we took four cupcakes for RM17 - Superainbow, Foxy Red Velvet, Chocolate Cheese Surprise and Kiss Cheese. Basically, on average each of us enjoyed one and quarter cupcake with a pinch of taste for each flavour.

The waists were saying, "damn you" but there was no regret. Each flavour was different and enjoyable but - Superainbow & Foxy Red Velvet were excellent:)

And since I was a sweet tooth yesterday, I had specifically ordered a latte without sugar or syrup.

The combination  between cupcakes and coffee was heaven :)

The waist was cursing and the stomach was demanding for a simple and healthy food. Well, look at your right. This was our feast :)

I ordered Mighty Ranch Green Salad which was refreshing at crunchy at the same time. There was grilled chicken, raisins and grated parmesan cheese with ranch dresssing.

One of the girls ordered Asian Grilled Chicken Salad. My testimonial? It was better than mine! Roasted almond and the chicken was something to remember. I would definitely suggest this to anyone whose looking for salad dish or something healthy to nibble:)

I could not remember the name of the sandwich but it was nice as well.

While "lepaking" after work yesterday, we enjoyed such nice ambiance. Perhaps the music should be more relaxing (I guess it was because the workers were young lads who obviously enjoyed rock than jazz).

Nevertheless the environment was peace and quiet and we had a very good time snapping lots and lots of pictures while sitting on the bench. 

One of the workers was sporting enough to snap our pictures. Those who were following me via Instagram, the pictures were available on my profile.

Before I went home, I bought cute postcards for RM1 each. Those would be my bookmarks very soon.

Rating for +wondermilk Publika?

3 stars. Good food, great cakes. Perhaps a bit of art on the latte would helped the whole experience:)

Now, how do you like this light posting so far? 


Tuesday, September 25, 2012

una deliciosa galleta

blogresipi - one of my favourite blogs:

I read this somewhere: 
"If you do not know your own heart, then how do you expect anyone to sincerely know you?" 

My answer is simple. A statement in your blog determines what type of person you are. Okay, I see hands raising over there. Why? Blog is outdated and Twitter is updated? Hello, have you heard of social media, my friend? :)

Some bloggers are twitters and some twitters are bloggers. I am both. Blogging is my passion and tweeting is my hobby because I'm traveling 160 kilometres per day. Nevertheless, it is easier for me to leave Twitter but it is damn difficult for me to stop blogging. Not to mention my latest addiction, Instagram:)

Why do I love these two - Blogger and Instagram?

I know my own heart when I post an article in this blog and when I upload a picture via Instagram. 

When I write a blog, most of the time it will take the minimum of an hour for me to do so. That is because it will take time for me to think of what needs to be posted, whether it will benefit others, what will I get out of my own post, and most importantly whether I'm using the correct references.

Instagram, however, reflecting on my activities and picturusqe thoughts. Sometimes I see something simple and valuable (which most of the time the food that I eat). That does not come easily either. As a traveler, I will pass several buildings and places. As a single, I get to hang out everywhere I want and with whomever I like. There are times when I forget to snap pictures. There are times when the moments are captured with the hands of an ametuer. Nevertheless, these pictures are real events in my life. I might be using several applications to make the pictures look good, but the pictures must serve as my momental thoughts.

To conclude, I prefer something from my heart to be presented to others :)

Do you realise that sometimes a person that you knew for the past one year means a lot to you than the ones that you just met few days ago? 

I'm mentioning the word "sometimes" because there are occassions when that might not be the case. Sometimes, you knew that person for years but still, it takes years to actually know the true colour.

"You knew you were eating a canned biscuit after you'd tried a fluffy, tender, homemade one with crisp buttered top, the whole of it split open and doused with honey."
- Dream Lake by Lisa Kleypas, page 224

Years have passed and some of the bloggers are not writing anymore. There a bloggers who prefer Twitter as to express their creativity.

But is it really creativity? Is that all?

Remember when Nuffnang was created, there were bloggers who ranted about how some people tend to visit other people's blog for the sake of the money? Or for the sake of getting people to visit his or blog?

Bloggers, after several years have become a community. Some of us become real friends, some form alliance for group writing, some publish books. A blogger becomes well known because of the hardwork in finding readers, their writing, their pictures, their controversial links with other bloggers...and their attitude.

These days, their tweets count (regardless how rubbish it is)

Guess what?

I don't really care about fame. 
I care about your sincerity. And loyalty. 

Last week, I went through comments in this blog since 2004. I automatically knew where I should stand:

If one person made no attempt in reading properly, why talk about sincerity?
If one person made no attempt for reasearch, why bother advising?
If one person made no attempt in recepting feedback, why should I care?

You're my fluffy honey biscuits, folks.
Even if you're just a person.

You taste better than dozen of canned biscuits :)

p/s: If you want to talk about sincerity, dear snob, check your own heart. Sincere ke?

Monday, September 24, 2012

kalau hati sudah berbunga

Moaning Myrtle
Good morning folks! I know it's nearly noon but then I have been observing my blog list and there was no movement. Nobody updated their blogs. Besides, Monday has always been a bad day. Or a busy day. Some says I'm having a Monday blues. Poor blue. Why can't anyone make it Monday pink or Monday yellow or Monday red?

Aye. Trust me. I'm a fan of purple but still, blue is the colour for Monday. Blue, in this context, sounds very negative up to a point that I'm asking myself several times:

Why do some companies choose blue as their corporate colour?
Why do we have Rumah Biru in school?
Why must we describe blue as "togetherness" or "harmony" for Jalur Gemilang?

But then again folks, this Monday blue thing is just a perception.

Why do we hate Mondays? 
Why can't we say "Thank God It's Monday!" and put TGIM instead of TGIF hashtags in Twitter.
Why do we moan?

If you have been reading Harry Potter books or watching Harry Potter movies, this girl might be familiar to you. Her name is Myrtle. Her nickname is Moaning Myrtle. She is a ghost. People called her Moaning Myrtle because she moans. What is moan?

- lamentation, complaint
- a low prolonged sound of pain or of grief
And who is Moaning Myrtle?
"Myrtle was a squat student with dark lank hair with a fringe, pimples and thick glasses. She died in 1943 and became a Ghost, wearing her school uniform for eternity. Myrtle was constantly bullied during her education at Hogwarts, for both her physical appearance and her personality. Myrtle hardly ever smiled and took great offence at the smallest slight, crying rivers of tears and wailing. "

Of course in our working environment, or lives, there are people like Moaning Myrtle. Sometimes, we describe ourselves as Moaning Myrtle. We have this tendency of pitying ourselves even when we were the predator and not a victim :)

The thing is, everyone loves to play victim. It's easier and simpler and dramatic. Sometimes, in the midst of watching Adam dan Hawa or Glee, we tend to feel that the story is more like our story when it is not. Who wants to play villain when the whole world is hating it?

Well, at least villains make the least complains. If you really want to be a heroien in your own story, then go ahead, cut down on the complains. I had this incident of a guy who choked after he sigh. Well, the sound of your breath won't help the person beside your cubicle, it won't make your students smarter and it won't make your job finish either. Unless, you put a blame on others to finish what you have or have not started:)

Ask yourself: Are you that Moaning Myrtle?

I did some Googling today and found an article about overcoming Monday Blues. These are the results and my comments:

1. Call a friend and Talk about the Fun Topics
You may call a friend but don't use your office phone. Some people does it once in a while, but at least cover that attitude from your boss. She might love to see where the cost is heading to and please make sure it's not coming from your own desk. Plus, your fun topic might be some other people boring topic. If the topic is about your boyfriend, do you think it will help your friend to change the colour of Monday?

2. Allow Your Feelings be as They Are
If you need to allow your feelings as they are, at least prohibit twitting as the solution. This might result in a never ending online session via company's desktop or laptop. Or even your own tablets and smart phones. Plus, make sure that your feelings are genuine and positive so that it will spread to others.

3. Plan Your Day
Monday is the first day of working and you have a long week to go through until Friday. Start planning to go home early so that you will have enough rest. At least, no overtime on Monday:)

4. Ask a Co-worker How Their Weekend Went
You may do this but not towards the extend of going for a very long breakfast or an hour of brewing coffee in the pantry. You may also want to remember that bragging is not the answer of positive attitude. At least stop talking about football when you're celebrating MU's victory last night. Instead of having a positive working environment, you might have sulking co-workers the whole day.

5. Stop Complaining
Aye. You may refer to this tweet I had last week:

6. Clean Your Desk
Piles of papers, files and unorganized items on your desk will eventually make your confuse on which one to start. That makes you complain. Actually, you are complaining about yourself because you're the sloppy one. However, you may result in making other people's miserable because they are just beside your desk.

7. Help a Co-worker
I don't have time for myself, how can I help others? Easy. Help others so that it will eventually clear the process of what you have to do today :)

Well, Moaning Myrtle is not really a bad girl. She has a good side but it is overwhelmed by the negativity of moaning itself. Same goes to you:)

Kate Middleton's Bridal Bouquet
Nevertheless, do you know that Myrtle is a royalty flower? It has been mentioned that Queen Victoria of England planted myrtle so that a sprig of that myrtle will be included in the royalty bridal bouquet including Princess Diana and Kate Middleton's bouquet.

According to the Language of Flowers, Myrtle means Love.

So, which Myrtle are you, folks?

Kalau hati sudah berbunga, buat apa pun riang saja:)

Happy working :)

Sunday, September 23, 2012

awek harimau malaya: episod ayah dan ibu

1. Author mana up status nk buat baju arsenal ni? Dia tak tahu ke terkedap ni kem Manchester United? GGMU bhai GGMU! Boo Arsenal!

2. Ramai haters man u rupa2nya readers terkedap ni. Tapi hakak peduli hape? Mwahahaha!
- 2nd September 2012, Twitter

Twitter. I told you yesterday, folks, that if I could then I would stop reading it during the weekend. I have not read tweets for the past 48 hours but I just could not shake this particular tweet off my head. It was a success and a failure at the same time :(

Sigh. Sometimes I just don't get it. Why must Malaysians quarrel over English clubs?

I mean, at the end of the day, all you have to do is to go back to the facts.

Here's my story:

Exactly after 90 years the club was founded, Chisha Cheryna Pires was borned. She was raised by her parents who were very fond of football. Her father was a Manchester United fan who adored George Best. Her mother was a huge supporter of Liverpool Football Club. She even named one of her sons closed to her favourite footballer's name, Ian Rush.

It was still a mystery on how these two lovebirds agreed to marry each other. The only thing they had in common was Negeri Sembilan which was their birth place and the country that they loved. Well, obviously these two hated the circumstances of which they had to watch football together. However, due to those differences, they closed the gap by watching Negeri Sembilan and Malaysia games together. They went to the stadium, wore yellow even though it had never been their favourite colour and sang Negaraku as loud as they could.

When it came to North West derby between Liverpool and Manchester United, they had fun. Well, Cheryna's father taught History and Geography at school. He always got his facts right. On the other hand, Cheryna's mother loved music and Shoot magazines. So she said all her facts were well written. They used this as a basis to converse and during constant overheated arguments, they joked about how Rembau and Kuala Pilah became historical rivals.

These two districts were in the same state. So did Manchester and Liverpool which was historically part of the county called Lanchashire. They also called off any chances of dissatisfaction by saying, that Liverpool was not Lenggeng as Manchester was not Mak Mandin. Why quarrel, they asked. It was not as if they had relatives in Salford, anyway. Then they had dinner together and rice was their staple.

Besides, their interest in the English clubs started when they went to British schools in the 60s and 70s. Ironically, even when both sang English schools songs, they went to the Seremban old stadium to watch football to support Negeri Sembilan and Malaysia. They said, "Borned in 1958, after merdeka, we were the history of our land's football. Where were we when they founded Liverpool in 1892 or when they changed the club's name from Newton Heath to Manchester United? That's their people's history."

Furthermore, it was a constant reminder to Cheryna that her mother suffered from insomnia when she was pregnant with her. That was the time when football was her mother's company since the Premier League matches was played late in the evening and there was World Cup in Italy in 1982. She asked her mother several times whether that was the reason she liked football so much as she grew older.

Her mother answered, "No. It was because Malaysia was not qualified. You became ill tempered because of that." Obviously, as an adolescent, she thought that was a joke.

By the way, she got to know about Serbegeth Singh (whom in her opinion had very minimal effect on her team Negeri Sembilan) way before he became a pundit who supported Tottenham Hotspur in ESPN. Obviously that was way prior to his service for Blackburn Rovers:)

Her parents brought her everywhere around the country to watch football. Since she was small, she was dressed in red t-shirts which was the initial supporter t-shirt's colour for Negeri Sembilan in the 80s and 90s and yellow-black muffler. She had no idea why her father asked her to wear those muffler since the stadium was damn hot. She had three younger brothers and their vacations were the stadiums. Stadium Larkin, Stadium Ipoh, Darul Makmur, Darul Aman, Stadium Kubu, Stadium Merdeka and their least favourite, Shah Alam.

Guess what? Cheryna's father made a point of taking the supporters bus when they got the chance. Otherwise, he drove all the way to make the family happy. She had wonderful journeys throughout her life!

When Cheryna was 12, she learned about international football. Her father, who was a chain smoker of the red Dunhill had this special partnership with her during World Cup 1994. Since she adored Gianluca Pagliuca, the Italian goalkeeper, he brought home piles of newspapers and taught her how to make a scrapbook.

That was one of the sweetest memory in her life. Her father had always asked her to keep important newspaper cuttings like the fall of Highland Tower, Princess Diana and Mother Theresa's funeral but he had never asked her to keep something fun like football. That has always been her mother's idea; since she was still collecting Shoot and The Star.

Due to that, she had always thought that parents had all the answers in the world. But there was one small difficult question that her parents did not managed to answer,

"There was no Malaysian Team picture on this Dunhill calendar. No Malaysia! Why is that?!" and she became tantrum when her father taught her about Tunisia and Columbia.

She argued, "This Valderrama rambut kembang! Azman Adnan lagi bagus!" and her parents looked at each other meaningfully.

After World Cup 1994, her mother taught her all the patriotic songs and how much her father was trying to plant something in her head. She went engrossed with several things. Obviously she just had her menses, so she had this weird spells when it came to Patrick Berger, Michael Owen and Jamie Redknapp. During Euro 1996, she created a nickname Cheryna Pires after her idol, Robert Pires. She learned how to cry when Roberto Baggio missed his penalty but it became worst each time Liverpool lost any matches against Manchester United.

Her parents diverted her attention. She was in a boarding school when it happened. So, they brought her to the stadium during the holidays. They introduced her to the lights of Zami Md. Noor, a striker who was originally from Kelantan but played for Negeri Sembilan. She had shyly told her mother a.k.a her best friend, "Handsomenya Zami!" Strangely, unlike other occasions, her mum approved. Once, her father guided her to the back of the stadium to meet Zami in person while he was waiting for his pretty wife to pick him up. Cheryna got her first autograph !

There were so many things happened since then. She collected several posters of Robert Pires; her father brought her to the stadium where she could get Khairil Zainal's autograph easily. Yes, he bought this cute feminine autograph from the book shop for her and he encouraged her to get it from her favourite players. She improved her confidence to speak in English when she saw glimpses of players like Jose Iriarte and Gus Cerro. Just to get their autographs.

She kept her savings for Adidas shoes; he brought a red, yellow and black Adidas (ori!) home. She commented that she loved Beehoon Kantonis, he brought her to the restaurant near Persatuan Bola Sepak Negeri Sembilan's building. Several occassions had passed since then. Cheryna became a young woman who made it a habit to go to the stadium.

Besides, that was a weekly outing for the family. She knew that was the only place where here parents would enjoy being in other's company because they agreed on the same thing. That was also the only place where she could do what she wanted as her brothers would always be around.

Yes, when there was a need to watch Premier Leagues games they watched it together. The only thing which made things went separate ways was that they were supporting different clubs. In a family of six, her father is the only one supporting Manchester United, her mother, her brother and Cheryna herself were supporting Liverpool, her other brothers were supporting Arsenal and Newcastle United respectively. There were six of them supporting four different clubs. At the same time all of them were supporting Negeri Sembilan and Malaysia!

But that was because their parents originated from the same state. Imagine how diverse it would be if it was the other way around.

For the last couple of years, her brothers made some changes in their ways of supporting. The most fanatic one taught them to chant; something that she longed to do ever since she was small. He bought new outfits for the family (and suddenly the whole family was wearing black and yellow). And at last, Cheryna found the use of a muffler in this very hot country.

We shall talk about that in the later posts, folks :)

Of course, she was still the same person who showed obvious admiration towards Steven Gerrard and Anfield. She was still unfavour of players with looks like David Beckham or Aidil Zafuan. It was not because she despised them, it was solely because she preferred them at the sports section rather than reading about them at the gossip columns. She had relationship with a Manchester United fan cum Kedah fan. If they were married, her in laws would be staying somewhere very near to Darul Aman Stadium :)

Ada aku kecoh? :)

But she knew she had a stand on football. Let ESPN or Sky became rich because she was watching Premier League matches on tv. But she made sure that she would watch the local games from the terrace.

For record, the only merchandise Cheryna had from Anfield was a dozen of LFC and Fernando Torres postcards as that was the lightest merchandise to fit the luggage:)

Plus, she had never purchased a single jersey regardless the originality.

She just knew how to balance things up. Football, in general was a game to be enjoyed and a history to be created. She knew she had left her mark when Negeri Sembilan held trophies and when Malaysia shed her tears after losing to Singapore (after she utilised two days of her annual leaves for that!!!). But she had made her mark.

When, Michael Owen won his Balon d'Or, she was nowhere in the picture. So, which moment was she supposed to be proud of?

She knew her parents had taught her well. Well enough to behave during this evening's game. She was nowhere near during Hillsborough tragedy. When Busby Babes crashed during Munich tragedy, she was not even borned yet! Of ourse she knew that he played for Liverpool, so what? It was 119 honours. 60 to Manchester United and 50 to Liverpool.

I'll keep my silence when I see your Updtown Danau Kota's Gajah Duduk jersey tonight. Cheers, lad!

No way I would be as shallow minded as you are.
Who are you, again?
A writer?
Aaaahhh..your tweets reflected on undivided love!!!

Patutlah. Penulis cerita cinta. Cinta negara tak?

p/s: Move on theory? Well, I have been taught to just walk on since I was small. I don't need you to teach me on how to love. I got enough from my parents and I'll keep their love until the end of time. Thanks, anyway :)

Saturday, September 22, 2012

let's bake a pie. let's draw a pie chart.

Lisa Kleypas in her latest novel, Dream Lake, page 69 (Piatkus):

"it has something to do with the impression people have gotten lately...that if your life was graphed in a pie chart, half of it would be 'shitfaced' and the other half would be 'hungover'.

Happy weekend folks. How's your pie chart today?

I'm going to keep things easy and simple. My pie chart is indicating several portions; huge portion for my books, certain portion for the next posting of Awek Harimau Malaya and of course, television.

I will be with my mum during these activities - so it's not a typical spinster weekend. Oh, I'm sorry I don't give you anything to gossip or tweet. What a pity.

That is my activity pie chart. I'm thinking of fishing but then spending time with mum seems to be much urgent and needful at this moment. 

How about the emotion pie chart?

Considering that the activities are going to be the things that I like with the person I love; therefore it will be a round, glossy, bright pie chart indicating hundred percent contentment :)

I'm thinking of watching 3 Hari. Somehow this movie makes me enthusiastic. A good piece of art usually does. Ahadiat Akashah and Afdlin Shauki are my favourites; they entertain with simplicity yet the idea is way ahead of time. Aye, this maybe makes my emotion pie chart more intresting. Will I cry, will smile or will I laugh? I read the book. But that doesn't mean I know the whole story. I wonder how the pie chart is going to look like.

Aye, I do have things that I like and the things that I hate :)

If I can help it, I trust that my pie chart will be clear of tweet reading. At least for the weekend. Unlike Ahadiat and Afdlin's artwork which makes me evolve, lies and brags will definitely put the word "pissed" with angry colours. I mean, angry colours are vibrant but let's not make it consume several portions of the rainbow colour. Oh, I love my purple!

So far, I'm taking all the precaution to make my pie chart goes positive and beautiful.

Ah. One more. This is not just for the weekend. I'm making a mental note of prohibiting myself to blog or tweet for the sake of fishing for compliments or sympathy. Therefore, talking about colourful Victoria Secrets bra is definitely a no-no.

One might compliment by saying how great you are in describing push ups.
Another one might provide shoulder to cry on when you mention that you are finding articles about your sagging flat breast.

But then again, what is the point of talking about moving on when all that you do is wallowing or gloating?

Malulah sikit.

Let's just say that if the bra is going to be discussed again, it will be for a good cause and not in favour of telling everyone about me, me, me, and me. Life does not evolve around one person, right?

Besides, the last thing I want in a pie chart are portions of idiocy and selfishness.

Let's bake a delicious pie. Let's draw a beautiful pie chart. 

p/s: Quiche is my personal preference these days. It is fulfiling. But when it comes to chocolate - I just don't give a damn about anything.

Friday, September 21, 2012

is your grandma a grammar nazi?

Kedai Kopi 434 Muar by KNizam Artwerk
Kedai Kopi 434 Muar, a photo by KNizam Artwerk on Flickr.
I read somewhere in Twitter:
"Being sarcasm saja dik. Iyakan saja apa dia kata."

I might be a Grammar Nazi in nature. There were times when I read my old posts and I grumbled about my silly mistakes. But there were several other Nazis who were more brutal than me.

My parents were the avid reader of this blog who constantly criticized the structure of my sentence. The ones who made fun of my typo errors were the mean people called brothers.

I even had Q; who openly corrected me when she commented on the posts despite several years of friendship.

Sya_annur would be one of the kindest Nazi who allocated some time for reference check. What's the meaning of this, how to make this out of this, how to say that and that. Technology plays the role of communicating an Android to a Blackberry in funniest ways:)

I won't be able to mention several other Nazis who called themselves bookaholics, bloggers and twitters. Your feedback was much appreciated and would always be welcomed for further improvement.

I have been shot several times by those Nazis. Shot with words, I mean. Now, it was not as bombastic as drinking five shots of espresso and expressed that with the snobbish tweets in Twitter but it helped the humanity by communicating properly.

Shot, in this instant was metaphoric term of being acknowledged by the ones who had the intention of asking us to do the right thing.

The shot was a good way of learning on how to kill the possibility of making stupid grammatical error and would caused us to eventually being a laughingstock by the ones who were expecting us to tumble.

If you were being shot, then what would you do? Die with the mistakes or would you consider to heal with the lesson as your cure?

Or do you prefer to spit on your wound by being sarcastic?

Eh, not being sarcasm meh???

Ok. Let's do it your way then. How about "being sarcasm"?

Statement 1:
I stick no to rice even though Aaron Aziz persuaded me.

"Being sarcasm answer":
How do you stick no and rice together?

Statement 2:
U still drinks coffee. Somehow it make me happy.

"Being sarcasm answer":
Who is U? Your boyfriend?
And who are It? They are very good in making you happy. Somehow.

Statement 3:
Thanks a teacher

"Being sarcasm answer":
Ok. Thanks you.

Now, let's drink coffee, shall we? Kopi 434 jadilah.
Raise your cup and.....Cheers!!!
Shall we be friends? I just followed your advice.
Being sarcasm. Hmmmm...nice.

Who needs Grammar Nazi anyway, grandma?
We should just follow you. 

p/s: Shooting on the field was not as easy as shooting on video games. If you are not prepared for a feedback, then why cause others the pain? (check out the meaning of sarcasm)

Thursday, September 20, 2012

apa rasa tahi hidung?

Fresh Lemon Juice by teenytinyturkey
Fresh Lemon Juice, a photo by teenytinyturkey on Flickr.
Remember the time when one of the contestants in Akademi Fantasia asked this question,

"Apa kau rasa...oren?"

At that time I was unsure where the question was heading to. Whether it was just a joke or whether it was meant to give back. I used that question with the same tone of voice since then. It was quite amusing when a simple question like that could make someone laughed or annoyed. Most people would laughed and shrugged the question away but some got annoyed and answered back.

Well, I wanted to blog about something else this morning but it turned out that I did not have enough time to write a story. Besides, tomorrow would be Friday which usually a casual writing day. So, let's write about something easy.

While I was busy looking at the numbers, I played this game with my partner. It was just about something which came into his mind the moment I mentioned something.

For example:

Question: Funny?
Answer: Mak Jemah

Question: Colour?
Answer: Red

So, our theme for the day called "Rasa" or taste. Initially we wanted to refer to the tongue but eventually we ended with something else. Check out the results:

1. Bitter: Black coffee
He loved condense milk. I liked black coffee.

We talked about how I liked my black coffee in the morning and how much I enjoyed it. Aye, black coffee was the best. Some said that it was bitter, but for me that was the correct way of differentiating the coffee. Try the cheapest coffee in town. Drink it without any additional flavour. Then find the expensive coffee and drink it the same way. It tasted totally different.

When I went for the training as a barista, my trainer asked us to drink a Kopi O at Mamak, washed our mouth and tried five types of freshly brewed coffee. Trust me, that was the best experience ever. We actually said that the best was Kopi O Mamak! He just laughed and told us that we had damaged palate.

But then again, for me the bitterness was what made coffee unique. You would try to determine the body of the coffee - nutty, smoky, spicy, It made you shudder the first time your drank it. Some might threw the liquid away, but I just gulped the whole thing.

There were times in life when swallowing something bitter made you taste the nicest things afterwards.

Besides, that was the best cure for menses and mood swings:)

2. Sweet: A mole a.k.a taik lalat
I laughed when he answered this. I asked him, why? He asked me back, "How sweet is sweet?"

Take sugar for example. When you put a teaspoon of sugar, you knew for a fact that for some people it was not that sweet. Some might say that three tablespoon of sugar was not enough.

How about a mole?

Some said Siti Nurhaliza looked sweet with her mole (which appeared and concealed occassionally)
I said that Cindy Crawford won't look nice without her mole.
A guy said that Eva Mendes mole was sexy and it was too sweet, he wanted to have her.
Some liked Neelofa - mole or no mole.
Or some loved it too much, he might as well adored Sharifah Aini.

Which one are you? If someone forced you to drink condensed milk, would you vomit?
I knew I would.

But how about mole?

3. Sour: Armpit a.k.a Ketiak
A typical Malay guy answer yet it was undisputable. Screw your move on theory, I still remember Sepet's smell after he played tennis and smoke. That particular "ketiak masam" was the smell that I liked so much until I decided to keep one of his unwashed shirts.

Yeah, I would prefer a guy who had smell as his identity.

But how many of those people outside who preferred Paco Rabane?

4. Salty: Tahi Hidung
This made me relax a bit. I stopped for a while and laughed. We talked about the incidents where sometimes people tend to be in denial. They said, "Eh, I've never tasted tahi hidung in my entire life!"

Aye! Try it:)

5. Hot: Wasabi
We talked about our friend who wanted to please his boss so much; he ate a spoonful of wasabi and suffered an ear infection for two days in a row. Well, talked about a Malay guy who, never in his entire life, went to a sushi bar. I pitied him because he was from East Coast. He drank bottles of water when he bit a bird eye chilli!

But have you heard about "Some Like It Hot?"

You need to taste this sharp ouchy pain on your tongue once in a while to remember something.

Better hot than infectious, don't you agree?

6. Bland: Hati. Heart.
Tawar hati was one of our ways to describe things. Malay language is flowery yet the meaning is quite simple and straightforward. I would say that those who created the "simpulan bahasa" were genius.

But how do you describe bland?
How uninteresting and monotonous. Now, would you prefer this?

I'm sorry then.

Plain water is for free.

Here, in this blog, you have to taste everything!

Is there anything amiss?

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

eh, bra hilang tak?

meet me at the bra tree, bros. by catklein
a photo by catklein on Flickr.
The clock was ticking and it was 11:00 p.m. My radio was playing "Love Song and Dedication" at Mix FM.

Aye, I told you that Kurt Cobain was supposed to date me instead of Courtney Love. Liam Gallagher should ate that fish and chips with me instead of being in the newspaper for domestic violence.

They would be a better husband. Rock was my music but when the soft Terengganu caftan enveloped my body in the evening; I felt feminine.

I have always been a hopeless romantic regardless how much I denied it. Aye, my brothers claimed that I was half man. I was not qualified to be called a girl. Whenever I wanted to act like a normal girl, they jeered at me. Well, I just could not helped it. Maybe I was too much like my mother - too independent to have someone by my side.

Eh, that sounded familiar?

"Always been told that I've got too much pride
Too independent to have you by my side
Then my heart said, all of you will see
Just won't live for someone until he lives for me
- Show Me Love by Robyn

The talcum was at the side table. I took it and jumped on my bed and sang, "...Show me me life..."

I was so engrossed; so loud until I did not hear the siren. My housemates were knocking my door impatiently. When I opened my door, I saw Niza with green mask on her face. She gestured towards the corridor.

"Sha, keluarlah! Siren tu!"

As I walked out the door, I realised that my friends were louder than Robyn and everyone was rushing to go out of the apartment. We did not switched off the television, I left Robyn with the chorus and nobody gave a shit about how we looked like.

My apartment was at level 10. So, we were the last ones who went to the stairs. The journey down was too long. Everyone was very noisy and nobody made sense.

I, on the other hand, felt something on my chest. Like something was bouncing up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

I looked around and found nothing. Well, maybe it was my heartbeat. Everyone was panicking, and I should be panicked too. Nobody knew what was going on and our residents were giving us this very scary look when we reached downstairs.

Once we reached the ground floor, we were being escorted by few men towards the parking lot near the College of Business Management. They told us to stay there. Then they went back to our apartment where the smoke filled the air.

"Babe, brade yang belakang tu cute kan?" Fifi asked me.

I looked at her incredulously and said, "Aku tak perasan pulak!"

"Betul...nanti dia datang kau ushalah. Serius cute. Tadi dia senyum kat aku." Aye, Fifi had this allergy called men. Whenever she went near them, all her senses came to life.

I looked at Fifi. Then I grinned evilly.

"Mestilah dia senyum kat kau babe. Cantik spaghetti kau ni," I pulled the thin strap on her shoulder.

"Ya Allah, aku pakai ni je ke masa turun tadi?" Fifi's voice was panicking. I laughed. I looked at Niza who was pressing her fingertips to her cheeks. She did not realised that she was wearing the green mask either.

Well, most of the girls did not realised what they were wearing. I heard one of them moaned,
"Shit. Aku lupa handphone aku charging kat atas!"

"Dahlah kau baru beli 3310 kau tu. Aku takut hilang je," her friend responded.

It was a field of casuals. There were incidents of armpit hairs but luckily it was too dark to even noticed.

Suddenly, there was a loud male voice telling us to que according to our apartment level. Eh?

"Saudari-saudari, ini adalah latihan kebakaran. Sila pastikan anda beratur mengikut aras pangsapuri dan blok."

The cute guy was a fire-fighter. Fifi was blushing like hell! Yes, I knew it. I felt a first degree burn when she put her face on my back. Damn, her head was heavy!

The normal ritual of a fire drill went on with success. I looked around and saw some of my friends were clad in their "Floor Marshall" vest. I felt like killing them for not telling us in advance.

When everything was over, I climbed the stairs. The lift was too slow, everyone wanted to use it so I moved slowly. There was no rush since nothing happened. They actually burned some logs to make the fire looked real but it was not a real fire.


The feeling on my chest did not go away. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Then I realised what was exactly happening.

I was not wearing a bra. I was too panic and rushy, I did not realise that the bounce was actually came from...the front side of my body.


I held the rail firmly. Yes, I valued my bra. But I believed that they were still there - pink, purple, blue, leopard stripes, tiger stripes. Victoria Secrets, La Senza, Marks and Spencer, Avon...and the normal Triumph.

Luckily there was no Twitter during that time.

Otherwise, my tweet would be,
"Apartment terbakar. Nasib baik koleksi bra kaler-kaler yang mahal tak hilang!"