this is a coconut shell, and i am it's frog
|
| Saturday, May 20, 2006 |
| THESE WORDS ARE BEING TYPED IN CANADA |
huhu. These first few words are typed from Canada. dun play play. I'm panicking a bit now though cause I for some reason stupidly misplaced all my contact info with the seniors here... so I'm stuck here in an overpriced internet cafe (6 canadian/hour. vomit blood) looking for some way to contact me seniors. Any help anyone? please? please please please?
So anyway, I'm staying in the international house now and the stuff there is really spartan. My jacket is doubling up as my pillow, my towel as my blanket at this point. Because I misplaced everything I can't contact the rest and see what their arrangements are arghz!
Having said that, since I'm paying freaking 6 bucks to use the internet here, I'm gonna use the full hour to the max.
THERE ARE WHITE PEOPLE HERE. You know, we always see them on tv, in the movies etc, but it never really hits you that white people are well, white, and blond hair really is, well, blond, until you find yourself literally surrounded by them. I got a few funny stares this morning from white people, as if they've never seen a chinese person ever before. hmmmz indeed.
Halifax is a nice place. Very cute. But by freaking george, I think Ipoh has higher buildings. And more buildings too. It's a very uh... picteresque place, if that's how you spell it. The sun's out, but it's still about 14 celcius. Pretty cold yeah. But nice cause I can walk everywhere without sweating buckets like in KL. And that's good cause I HAVE to walk everywhere, not that I WANT too.
I think I'm jet lagging though. Brain's feeling muggy... or maybe that's just the bagel I had settling in. In any case, my hour's almost up so er yeah. Gotta run before they charge me another 3.50 for an extra half hour. Speaking about jet laggin though I watched transamerica and match point on the long flight from Hong Kong to Toronto. Both shows left me with sour-tasting bile in my mouth that had completely nothing to do with the food poisoning that I had. Oh did I mention I had food poisoning? The entire KL-HK flight was spent in the loo puking and diarrhoea-ing. macha bad bad shape macha. Good thing I found a Watson's in HK that sold Imodium and some other antiemetic drug. Would not have been a good thing to spend the entire HK-Toronto flight in the toilet eh, especially since I did not get an aisle seat. Imagine jumping over the poor person next to you every 10 mins to run to the loo. Not a good thing at all.
And I curse the day of the 19th of May. Not because that's the day I left good ol' Malaysia, but cause it's the day a certain bitter someone was born, just to bring cynicism and wet-blanket dullness into our lives. Screw you, you bitter man, by big fat ugly white men, till you rice-water-stool to death. urkaz.
Time to explore Halifax.
wfgrrttzzz |
posted by theycallmecruel @ 9:30 PM  |
|
|
|
| Wednesday, May 10, 2006 |
| The toilet door |
9 days, me hearties. I wanted to add another entry to the "I'm not gonna be missing/I will be missing" series but here's a story that's just too good to not be told. Now I heard this second-hand, not from the poor person involved itself, so some details might be fuzzy/overly exaggerated/just plain made up. Call it artistic license. I do not, in fact, have permission from the involved parties to publicise this but who cares eh. *shrug* If he insists, I will delete this post. huhu.
Last weekend, the residents of a certain unit in Vista Komanwel C went to their respective hometowns. All except one.
Ah Seng.
*jeng jeng jeng*
(Names have been modified, though not by much, to protect the identites of those involved, as if I care but just in case)
Now for some reason the residents of that certain unit in Vista Komanwel C don't like taking baths in the bathroom in the hallway, they all like to bathe in the master bedroom. Well, not the bedroom itself, but the toilet IN the master room.
*enter dramatic music, low creepy scary voice*
Little did innocent Ah Seng know,
There is something wrong with the toilet door...
So there he was, tra la la la la, having a shower, ok he's done, towels up and reaches for the doorknob. He turns it. The door doesn't open. One eyebrow gets raised. He turns it again. The door still doesn't open. Another eyebrow gets raised. Beginnning to panic, he starts to rattle the door knob in hopes that it will miraculously open the door. It doesn't. A few more eyebrows rise. Heart rate increases. BP starts to rise. Jingling and jangling the door knob, it still doesn't want to budge, resolutely imprisoning poor Ah Seng in his warm, damp shower cell. Ah Seng has left his phone in his room, a mere few metres away yet impossible to reach due to the wooden barrier.
After a period of time (and here the details get fuzzier and more mysterious), about half an hour, Ah Seng resorts to the only option he has left;
He begins to yell. No, not some feral guttural random shouts, He yells for help.
"HELPPPPPPPP!!! HEEEEELLLLPPPPPPPPP!!!"
Silence.
"HEEEELLLLPPPPPPPP!!! HELPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!"
After a while (again, the period of time is uncertain, though one must assume it was a while), a response!
"WHERE ARE YOUUUUU??"
"I'M ON THE **** FLOOR!!!!!! WHERE ARE YOUUUUU??"
"I'M ON THE **** FLOOR!!!!!! WHAT SEEEEMMSSS TO BE THE PRROOBBBLLLEEEMMM??"
"I'M STUCK IN MY TOILET!!!!"
"......."
At this point a small crowd has gathered outside Ah Seng's unit, such is his yelling. For some reason no one thinks of helping him. He continues his high-decibel conversation with his unknown, soon-to-be saviour.
"ISN'T ANYONE AT HOMMEEEE???"
"NOOOOO!!! CAN YOU CALL THIS NUMBER??? IT'S MY GIRLFRIENDDDDDDD"
"OKAY!!! WHAT'S THE NUMBER???"
"***-*******!!!!!!"
Ah Sa, Ah Seng's girlfriend suddenly receives a call while milling about her own business. She doesn't recognize the number in the caller id.
"Hello...?"
"Hi, is this Ah Sa?"
"Yes...."
"Do you know a guy named Ah Seng?"
"Yes...."
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"Yes...."
Now at this point she must be thinking that either something really bad happened to him or he did something really bad and someone's looking for her to pour HCL on her face.
"OK, your boyfriend's stuck in his toilet"
"....."
Ah Sa rushes down to his unit, only to remember that she doesn't have the keys to his place. A locksmith is summoned. It is sometime past midnight. A locksmith arrives, and ponders the pretty large crowd of curious (chinese say pat) onlookers. He tries to pick the lock but fails. He resorts to hammering and banging away at the lock. The crowd outside grows, wondering what the crap is all that noise about. A small festival-like atmosphere begins. People chanting. Incense is burned. Women wail and thump their chests, such is their desire that the noise stops so that they can go back to sleep.
All this time, Ah Seng is sitting in his towel on the toilet bowl in the toilet of a master bedroom of a certain unit in Vista Komanwel C. Beginning to sweat due to the damp heat, he thinks, "aiyah. Bathe again lar"
And so he does, all the while hearing louds clanks and bangs as the locksmith continues to try and open the door.
After a while more, the locksmith succeeds in positively destroying the lock, sending it to where all good locks go. The crowd cheers. Old men take down the apartment number, tomorrow can go buy 4-D, 2 big, 2 small. Ah Sa jumps into the damp hands of Ah Seng. The unknown saviour is given a hand shake and profuse thanks.
And all is well.
A few days later, when the other residents have returned, Ah Ann gets stuck in the toilet... |
| posted by theycallmecruel @ 10:50 AM |
|
|
|
| Monday, May 08, 2006 |
| 11 days... and counting |
Well. Almost a full year has passed since I almost had a nervous breakdown preparing for that oh-so-cursed form of memory evaluation aka sem 5 finals. Almost a full year.
Man I've been a bum.
And now it's 11 days till I leave for the cold fabled land known as nova scotia and freeze my sorry little yellow chinese buttocks off while trying, striving, to become one who saves lives and collects obscenely copious amounts of money for it. Man that sentence had a whole lot of adjectives.
There have been too many words, too little actions, too much unfulfilled potential but at least, at least, at least I can say one thing about this year that has almost gone by.
I had fun. hoho.
In this last year though there were many things I thought I'd miss that I actually didn't, and many things that I thought I wouldn't miss but did.
I don't miss, but thought I will, B14-7 the temporal building inane nonsensical arguements with cm 3 corridors sri petaling pasar malam ahkeen singing the same david tao song for the 100th time in a row 4am instant noodles napping in IMU lecture halls (man those chairs were comfortable!) skipping lectures to go for dota dota after pbl dota after csu dota after clinic visit dota after hospital visit dota after lunch dota before dinner dota after dinner dota before supper dota after supper walking home after dota after supper lavinia's, carrie's, chingling's bimbotic remarks the sour pork knuckle in the food court near carrefour carrefour itself |
| posted by theycallmecruel @ 12:39 PM |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
| About Blog |
| ribbit
Chinaman in Canada, no more.
i still can't come up with a better phrase. |
| Previous Post |
|
| Archives |
|
|
wheeeeeeeeeee
| Templates by |
|
|
|
