Friday, 30 November 2007
I didn’t accompany Tango and Foxtrot on their F1 phase nor their tech binge, so I find myself scratching my head when they talk about these two subjects. Happily, though, they find it equally confusing on their part when I open my yap about my passions. It’s usually a conversation killer :)
I told Foxtrot a couple of days ago when we met for lunch (hey, both of us are married, so, it’s not a sign of desperation, just an act of male bonding), I feel like a girl when the two of them talk about F1. Specifically, I can’t understand what makes a man spend that much money to watch a car appear for half a second in front of you and speed off again, only to come back several minutes later.
His defence? “We watch it on TV”.
Fiiiine. I suppose I’ve riled up the feathers of many F1 fans here, but the point is this. I’m gonna blog about what I like, so you guys better be prepared. :)
If you can take more of my madness, then check out my blog in the blogroll. If not, then my posts here will be far more sedate, and, at least, funnier.
The original trio was supposed to be Whisky, Tango and Foxtrot, but I’ve chosen Whiskers to represent myself. Reason? I’m a teetotaller, teetertally, tito… I don’t drink. So, I wouldn’t want to represent myself in any way that can make my kids question me later on.
Sort of like Angelina Jolie saying, she won’t let her kids watch Beowulf because she’s made to appear nekkid there. Er… Ms Jolie… I can recall at least 7 other movies I’d ban them from watching. (Mommy, you made out with Zorro???)
But, if there was one hot mom, she’s definitely it.
So, thanks for the welcome, if there’s anyone out there actually reading. And, if you’re cute, single, female, legal and needy, you know where to find me. Right here.
As you can probably tell, I spend most of my adult life in a traffic jam. It’s only natural, then, that I find things to while my time away with. Unlike the majority of the human population, I do not own a car CD player. So, I’m stuck to replaying all the cassettes I collected during the 1980s.
I am the proud owner of Whitney Houston’s self-titled album, the very first one. Although the cover is gone, but she plays beautifully, testament to buying ‘ori’ when ‘ori’ wasn’t even a word. The publishing date on the cassette says 1987. Happy 20th Birthday, Whitney Houston cassette!
However, after Whitney, Debbie, Mr Cetera, Mr Sanborn, Mr Collins, Kylie (the young version), Mr Astley, Mssrs Pet Shop and the Star Wars Symphony has bored the life out of me, I turn to other pursuits, like Mix FM and Light FM.
(Ahhh… Debbie Gibson… what a babe! You were spot on baby, when you sang Electric Youth! Unfortunately, we’re both Electronic Seniors now)
Unfortunately, Gurmit’s faux Chinese accent nerve-grates very quickly and hearing Ross do his irritating Foxtrot, Uniform, Charlie, Kilo, India, November, Golf word game makes you want to give your ears a rest.
If you ever wonder what you can do in a traffic jam when you’re out of ideas, you can poach some of mine:
Find the station
1. Find someone singing in his car and quickly search through the radio stations to see which station he’s on. If you actually find it, amuse yourself by watching him sing, but hearing Ziana Zain’s voice instead.
Why the long face?
2. Find a couple in the next car not talking to one another and figure out what caused them to sulk that morning. Be imaginative. It could be a failed Kama Sutra attempt, or a failed salad dressing, or the chocolate that he chose was bitter instead of sweet.
“Oh, but a turkey stuffing does this, too,” said he.
3. Find a couple in the next car talking animatedly to one another and make up dialog for them. If you have a friend in your car, you could carry on a conversation for them. Think “Whose Line Is It Anyway” and you know what I’m talking about.
4. Challenge yourself by seeing how much money you can find in your car. Dig, baby, dig!
5. Use the rear view mirror and see how much blackheads you can squeeze out of your nose, or whiteheads from your cheeks.
“And one more thing…”
6. Pretend you’re quitting your job, and create the perfect thing to say to your boss just before you slap the resignation letter in his face and storm out the door. Great stress breaker.
Burn, baby, burn!
7. Switch off your airconditioning and pretend you’re in a sauna. Ouch.
8. Bring your chair down slightly, and pretend you’re driving in a really expensive car (if you don’t already).
Confusing your feet
9. Keep your right foot only for the accelerator but use your left foot for the clutch AND the brake. Fun jerky stops. If you can’t imagine it, try it!
Omigod, she’s a lawyer??? Represent me!!!
10. Find cute drivers to gawk at. If brave enough, flirt with them. If they flirt back, write your handphone number on your window with lipstick your wife left in the car.
Thursday, 29 November 2007
Hello all, I am Whiskers, the Whisky of WTF. Thanks to T and F for allowing me space to vent my frustrations, albeit under certain restrictions (i.e. Never post anything Big Brother doesn’t like). Fine, I’ll just post stuff that Big Brother doesn’t understand, then
For my first trick, I offer a list of things that I consider weird about Malaysians. Everyone is invited to add to the list through the comments form and I’ll edit it in to this post. Drum roll please…
1. No one likes speeches, but everyone pretends to.
Come on… you can’t honestly believe that after the MC gives his speech, and the manager gives his, and the managing director gives his and the CEO gives his, that anyone actually remembers, or cares about what they say. Speechitis is such a Malaysian thing. But, I;m proud to say that at least our grand leader makes his feelings on the issue very clear. Boring! He sleeps through most of them. How dare those opposing him accuse him of being lazy! Get the message! Cease the speeches!
2. Prices can go up, but cholesterol doesn’t go down
Okay, petrol, flour, water and power keep increasing in price. But notice how we seem to keep eating the same amount? Whiskers Tango Foxtrot??? Heed da Boss! Change your lifestyle to match the money we’re taking away from you!
3. Cyborgs Attack!
Try this test. Leave your handphone, your i-stuff, your bluteeth, your laptop, etc AT HOME and ask yourself if you’ll die within 24 hours. Still alive? Congratulations. You’re now the only human among Borgs. Please-lah, many Americans still have handphones with no sms functions. And why? Oh why? Do you have to immediately answer that sms??? It’s not a bloody phone call. The sender obviously didn’t respect you enough to drop you a line. Reply to it after 24 hours. If you can’t do this, then, sit down, Borg!
Okay, braindead now. I’ll add to this list after I reboot, or when you guys give me ideas.
Whiskers over and out!