UnDerEstiMated-OverEstiMating

And again, Kimi goes unnoticed.
Not literally. He was always peeking and climbing around the back of Alonso.
But alas, it’s not his day. AGAIN. Webber’s car just had to have an engine
blowout. The safety car just had to come out. From going around the track
crazily lap after lap (even lapping the backbenchers in 14 laps). They HAD to
slow the pace. The abrupt decrease in speed sure took a toll on Kimi’s engine.
The engine just had to blow. Plumes of black smoke wafting from his engine. And
Alonso just HAD to up the race speed again.

Though Kimi started from third,
he nibbly made his way through Webber’s car. At the tight corner, he took the
best position to execute a stunning sharp over taking maneuver. Lap after lap
he was always at Alonso’s tail. It was pretty exhilarating to watch Kimi going
lap after lap after lap behind Alonso. The team tried to play the pitstop game,
but lo and behold, Renault stumped them again. Though Kimi went in first, he
was still behind Alonso after Alonso pitted.

Heh. Sorry. Emotion got the
better of my writing. I just knew Kimi would win, or at least get a podium
finish. Kimi’s trailing Alonso pretty bad. Michael has gone up to second place,
the best challenger to Alonso. Fishicella just got his break by tying with
Kimi. Though Kimi’s future looks bleak, I will stand by my man.

Enough of emotion. The starting
lap saw the front runners gunning their machines A.F.A.P (as fast as possible)
resulting in Kimi’s jump from third to second place. The scuffle at the back of
the train between two white cars (haha, I just cannot keep up with the changes
in the teams of F1) was pretty intense, with both cars limping away to their
starts. I’m pretty sure they had to visit the pits.

The race was pretty routine, with
me losing interest when Kimi’s engine blew out. It was kinda funny seeing
Rosberg going straight for the dividers at one of the corners and getting his
car stuck on it. The car movement looked like a dart being thrown to the dart
board. Bull’s eye. And the dart simply stayed put on the board. After Kimi’s
premature retirement, a few others joined him.

The results are: Alonso 1^st,
Montoya 2^nd, Coulthard 3^rd, Rubens 4^th,
Michael 5^th. I guess the worst part of seeing Kimi’s retirement was
his pasrah-ness. It seems he’s given up hope. He shouldn’t. I believe in him. I
put absolute faith in his skills and determination. Come on Kimi, the race
isn’t over, when there’s a will, there’ll be ways.

(I watched the race on board
Samarang Platform, 42km away from Labuan with the guys of Samarang )   

Deja vu all over again.

She did looked weak. Her tummy was extremely flat, her gait nonchalant and a little wobbly. She refused to accept food, though from time to time she would sip from her bowl of water.

It was just last night that I forced fed her, since I was sickened by the sight of her weak tiny body. The milk was only 5ml, but it took almost 30minutes for her to finish it up. Silently, as if wispering to the winds, I prayed that she would hold on and survive her sickness. Though her face showed pain, her pose was still regal, sitting perfectly like a tiny white princess in her castle. She was so pretty, it blinded me to the fact that she was sickly.

It did remind me of Meewee, a kitten that I had when I was 9 or 10. Except that Meewee’s stomach was bloated. She would have been a great-great-great-great-great-grandmother had she lived till now.

This morning, on my way out to work, I found her curled underneath the Kancil, on her favourite spot on the driveway. We still can’t figure what attracts her to that spot. Come rain or shine, you can always find her either playing or sunbathing there. Poor tiny kid. It’s been a rough week for her. Her siblings were handed over to other people, her mother was sent for neutering. She was all alone and she’s one heck of a manja kitty. Every other hour she would scream for attention. Yeahhh… practically screamed her throat sore. Then she’d croak for attention. I dragged her from beneath the car, I caressed her and could only pray that she won’t die on me.

As always, upon arrival at home, she would always be lazily stretched on the driveway, enjoying the sun and taking in the same ol’ darb sites. She’s usually look as if she’s enjoying every minute of it, but would always welcome my proddings. Would always answer when I call her.

Today? She was no where to be seen. The cage was no where to be found. No miowing. The front of the house looked… sterile. I wanted to call out her name, but God knows nothing came out. I was pretty much expecting the worst. And so my bro broke the news. "Abby dah mati." "Oh" I thought to myself. I took a glance at her rigid tiny body and went in. I wanted to cry, but I held back (as always my instinctive nature will never let me cry in public).

It only took a few moments later for me to break down. I never thought that she could have such an impact on me. It felt stupid, but it really needed to come out. Abah told Umar to bury her at her favourite spot. Despite the stream of tears, I smiled, since her favourite spot was the driveway. I was picturing us excavating the whole pavement to put her to rest. Nope. That would have incite Abah’s anger.

It took the four of us to dig up her resting place. I was still in my work attire. Tears were still streaming on my cheeks. But damn it felt good. Feeling the cangkul hit soil. Feeling my arms aching after too long being idle. Ika warped the tiny kitty in my first blue tudung. From light to dusk, we dug, joined by Mak. Mak clearly was devastated. Geez, such an ironic love-hate relationship between Mak & the kitty. Heh.

Seriously, I miss her. I miss her wierd screams. I miss her soft white fur. I miss the time she licked my milk-slick fingers. I miss the night she slept peacefully on my lap. I miss those times I bath her. I miss calling her ‘the mechanic’. I miss those soft blue eyes, perfectly innocent. I miss those times she shimmied up my legs.

(Man… gotta stop… I’m tearing up again~~)

Abby… huh… B… bye… You just don’t deserve me.

Damn the video clip is raunchy & juicy  =P haha…  dat’s whats spoofing is all about. 

Stupid Girls
- Pink -


Stupid girl, stupid girls, stupid girls
Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
Porno Paparazzi girl, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl

Go to Fred Segal, you’ll find them there
Laughing loud so all the little people stare
Looking for a daddy to pay for the champagne
(Drop a name)
What happened to the dreams of a girl president
She’s dancing in the video next to 50 Cent
They travel in packs of two or three
With their itsy bitsy doggies and their teeny-weeny tees
Where, oh where, have the smart people gone?
Oh where, oh where could they be?

Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
Porno Paparazzi girl, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blond hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl

(Break it down now)
Disease’s growing, it’s epidemic
I’m scared that there ain’t a cure
The world believes it and I’m going crazy
I cannot take any more

I’m so glad that I’ll never fit in
That will never be me
Outcasts and girls with ambition
That’s what I wanna see
Disasters all around
World despaired
Their only concern
Will they **** up my hair

Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
Porno Paparazzi girl, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blond hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl

[Interlude]
Oh my god you guys, I totally had more than 300 calories
That was so not sexy, no
Good one, can I borrow that?
[Vomits]
I WILL BE SKINNY

(Do ya thing, do ya thing, do ya thing)
(I like this, like this, like this)
Pretty will you **** me girl, silly as a lucky girl
Pull my head and suck it girl, stupid girl!
Pretty would you **** me girl, silly as a lucky girl
Pull my head and suck it girl, stupid girl!

Baby if I act like that, flipping my blond hair back
Push up my bra like that, stupid girl!

Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
Porno Paparazzi girl, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blond hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl

Bli yang original say no to "cetak rompak"!!
P/S: errr… agak2 yg **** tu represent what word??

Funny. Verrrrrry funny.

Ten days before the screening of Lelaki Komunis Terakhir, a somewhat semi-musical documentary on Chin Peng, the most notorious leader of the outlawed Parti Komunis Malaya (PKM), the Home Ministry Affairs decided that: The movie reeks of passive communism message. Thus it is thrown into the garbage bin (READ: banned). The multitasking director cum story liner cum producer  based his documentary on the memoirs of Chin Peng which was written by himself. We can obtain a copy at any bookstore in Malaysia (well, almost =P).

What Isee as funny is the statement that the Home Affairs Minister made: It is logical to ban the movie since it is watched by many people. The book will not be banned as not many Malaysians read books. The book is just a bunch of crap jotted by the keji Chin Peng. (errrrr… this is not the exact statement but the gist is there).

OK laa… memang betul pun rakyat Malaysia kurang membaca. Jika ada pun, rata-rata melayan bahan picisan sahaja. Mengapa? Kerana bahan bacaan tersebut lebih mudah didapati dengan harga yang mampu dikhaskan untuk bahan bacaan. Kerana bahan bacaan yang berbaur ilmiah dan konterversi tidak mampu dicerna isinya dan jika iya pun, tidak sepatutnya dibincangkan kerana takut akan menggalakkan reformasi. Hehehehehe. Kerana tidak punyai masa untuk melayan bahan yang tidak menjana kewangan peribadi.

It’s tough to live in modern times; you’re expected to be pragmatic in your thinking but… you’re denied to explore life’s options. Every single bloody time a young hotshot filmmaker comes up with a new story concept, it’s surely shot to hell. If not FINAS (Censorship Board), some pimping Minister would intervene, acting all paternal and knowing.  So what if a film is made on an anti-hero? Those high up lament that our young minds are getting book-wormy and yet when there’s something fresh and out-of-the-box YOU YOURSELF get all worked up. Takut konfrontasi. Takut penularan gejala komunisme. Takut menyakitkan hati orang-orang tua. Takut orang-orang yang sedang memerintah dilupai.

Really. For once FINAS has done a credible job in sensoring the film. With a potential controversial theme, they screened it to a roomful of authority people which by the way saw no harm in its plot. In the interest of the public kunun. You OLD PEOPLE are waaaaaaay satirical in your thinking that it makes me gelak guling-guling. What’s to a history? It’s just a bunch of bias recordings of past times to shove down insolent SPM takers. Well, something to that effect =P For once let us think for our selves. Let us decide whether we’ll riot over the government and embrace communism (c’mon la communism is passe old dudes). Give the movie a chance. Chances are, not many will find it interesting enough since it is not picisan =P

P/S: I want to be the director of FINAS!!

This time, This place

Misused, Mistakes

Too long, Too late

Who was I to make you wait

Just one chance

Just one breath

Just in case there’s just one left

‘Cause you know,

you know, you know

[CHORUS]

That I love you

I have loved you all along

And I miss you

Been far away for far too long

I keep dreaming you’ll be with me

and you’ll never go

Stop breathing if

I don’t see you anymore

On my knees, I’ll ask

Last chance for one last dance

‘Cause with you, I’d withstand

All of hell to hold your hand

I’d give it all

I’d give for us

Give anything but I won’t give up

‘Cause you know,

you know, you know

[CHORUS]

So far away

Been far away for far too long

So far away

Been far away for far too long

But you know, you know, you know

I wanted

I wanted you to stay

‘Cause I needed

I need to hear you say

That I love you

I have loved you all along

And I forgive you

For being away for far too long

So keep breathing

‘Cause I’m not leaving you anymore

Believe it

Hold on to me and, never let me go

Keep breathing

‘Cause I’m not leaving you anymore

Believe it

Hold on to me and, never let me go

Keep breathing

Hold on to me and, never let me go

Keep breathing

Hold on to me and, never let me go

The Way

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!

–Rudyard Kipling