Yo Mama

I park my car in the parking lots below the office while I'm at work. The ones where you feed coins into the beast and get a little piece of paper with the expiry time and your number plate on it.

I went downstairs at 4:50pm. Time had expired. I did think I should put in 60sen into the beast which is better than a 30Ringgit fine. I thought, what the hell, 10 minutes left before quitting time. I was packed and ready to go at 5pm. My colleague has the keys. She's not coming in tomorrow so I need to take the keys from her. I wait for her and at 5:10pm she gets up to go. I get to my car at 5:13pm. There's a fine on the windscreen, time of fine: 5:11pm. I clutch the fine in my clenched fist and scream rage at the heavens.

"Ahhh.... ffffuuuuuuucccckkkkk!!!!!"

The parking attendant, who is still nearby decides to be scarce. I spot her when I get into my car.

Mothers Day just went by. I hope parking attendants treat their mothers well. Cos nobody loves parking attendants except maybe their mothers.

Critique

barb_er : and i must say - nice one on your latest blog. very modern writing style
El Perrito : esque?
barb_er : yups
El Perrito : it was really just a long winded method....
El Perrito : ....of getting to compare gf number 1 to yeast
El Perrito : :))
barb_er : very chic lit actually
El Perrito : well.... not really. i'd been frustrated reading neil gaiman
El Perrito : i don't think i'm cut out for short stories much as i love them
El Perrito : the title esque is supposed to reflect on authors
barb_er : but u can read that book.. the book that i could not read..
barb_er : by that travel author
El Perrito : as in neil gaiman-esque
El Perrito : harlan ellison-esque
El Perrito : though naming those two are just examples. in no way am i making any comparisons or attempting to emulate them.
barb_er : ok.. ok.. point noted and taken
El Perrito : crappalike dat
El Perrito : but it has something not usual in a short story
El Perrito : positive hope at the end
barb_er : :))
El Perrito : :D
El Perrito : and of course this is the way my english tuition teacher would have loved for me to write back then!
barb_er : oh yeah.. too-ee-syun
El Perrito : but i'm glad you liked it. it's a good indicator
barb_er : it is? of?
El Perrito : readability
barb_er : from me? you gotta be kidding
El Perrito : i am?
barb_er : okay. you're not.

Cojones!

I've been put to shame by Erin. More or less. This is the text which fueled her ire especially the bits in bold text.

"In Australia (and "developed" nations), there are those that don’t work and are not bothered to work because they can draw unemployment benefits. There are 3rd world nations who greedily absorb foreign aid when they should be using foreign aid to help themselves in the form of working towards self sustenance. Most of the money raised to assist famine in Africa, especially Ethiopia, was spent on weapons and absorbed by the fat cats.

Well….

In the event of privileges two things happen. One is that some of the privileged class takes full positive advantage and uses the benefits to get really get moving. On the other side, the others in the privileged class sits on their asses, mooch about and rabbit it because they don’t have to compete but sit back and reap the benefits anyway. There’s a lot of grey area in between but I had to elaborate on the extremes.

Those who have to fight and work for everything know how to shut up and bend over because 1. They can still make a good living; and 2. They need to maintain and cultivate the farce of an environment in which to make a good living.

DON’T reply this comment. Delete it if you wish. I’ve been wanting to spill all that before but didn’t have the cojones to do it on my own blog.

But please visit me in Ka-munting. I would like a toothbrush please."

She had her say about it in a posting. And I did reply, again in a comment to the posting. The age gap? Eleven years I think. Think she's she same age as Sher May, Kevin and the old Ironwood gang. I wonder what they think? Sher May would have her head too high in the clouds, I would know, we were an item once. Whether or not anything has changed since isn't a matter. She's good at being happy. Kevin has been away in Oz but perhaps Ravi could come to an opinion. Then again, Ravi would probably just take the most rebellious stance just for the sake of it. Anyway:

"I don’t exactly fear posting politics on my blog. I just wanted to use the word ‘cojones’

For me, it’s just not worth opening up this can of worms. It might snowball. Not likely but I didn’t want to be the catalyst.

“2. They need to maintain and cultivate the farce of an environment in which to make a good living.”

With the ignorance factor and pomposity everyone detected when the pollies had their own rant on Malaysian bloggers, it’s just not worth it.

My mentioning ISA might be for amusement but fact is I personally know someone who spent time in Kamunting and I know human rights people who try to help ‘guests’ there.

But I wouldn’t worry too much about being arrested in the coffee shops. I’d already be in the slammer!

I’m not being condescending nor would I patronize you and I don’t know it all. I do think it’s a good thing that your generation is taking interest and isn’t content with the inner workings and the truth. The dissatisfaction you feel, to me, is a healthy indication that young adults are still bright and refuse to have the wool pulled over their eyes.

With the chains of power so long in place, change might just require no less than revolution. My generation is content to avoid such a situation. There is a good reason why. A revolution may just occur from within. What frightens me is that I personally think that the non-privileged classes will have if worse if it is successful. Which is why we tolerate the present situation.

One day we should sit down and risk arrest but I’d also be content if the conversation was about something else."

The strange thing is that we were probably writing at the same time. While I was writing Esque, she was writing This is becoming a serious issue. Strange, considering how Esque reads.

Esque

"Esque"

It was awkward. I didn’t really have anything to say and neither did she. Small talk would seem to be the order of the day. Rigid, soulless etiquette kept us there trying to get along.

In the branches of a nearby tree I saw a straits robin. It was a small black and white bird, with a long tail which it flicked periodically. I once teased a former girlfriend into believing it was called a flip-arse bird. Then again she had once believed that the air pressured Burswood Dome was inflated by men with bicycle pumps.

We wore blank tired looks. We sat shaded under a pitifully inadequate umbrella which sheltered a small round table with wrought iron chairs. The shade cast is miserly and we have to almost squeeze into what shadow is bestowed. At least from this proximity I can breathe the pleasant aromas which emanate from her hair and skin. The chairs were obviously built for aesthetics which was evident with the restless squirming we both suffered trying to find comfort in their rusting embraces. The umbrella’s stand came up through the stupid little hole in the center of the metal table. It robbed us of space and forced the edges of our laptops to protrude off the edges of the table. There was hardly room for the ashtray.

Not that it was a welcome object in any case. She didn’t smoke and tried to keep the disgust off her face at the smell and the floating smoke but still she maintains a polite façade. In the background I hear Snowpatrol's "Run". It's one of my favourite songs. It seems fitting for the moment.

Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear

Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say

I sigh and stub out the cigarette. I hadn’t even enjoyed it. The end still burns and violates her space and senses.

She frowns but finally she speaks again.

“I do despair. It all seems so aimless. I have no idea how all this connects me to my future. I’ve been told that this is all meaningless anyway.”

There is a momentary silence before I reply. The silence is unnecessary. I already knew the answer.

“It is meaningless. All it proves is that you have the ability to carry through.”

“Will I ever look back and think that it was beneficial to me? That I need this?”

“There will be times. I can admit that much.”

Even the coffee is as weak as the conversation. Here it’s just dark grit in hot water. I don’t know how to justify the cost. I suppose someone has to pay for the awkward chairs and the stupid table with its feeble umbrella.

“I have to go” she says smiling apologetically looking at her watch. I didn’t have to be told and she didn’t have to look. It couldn’t have been long since she last glanced at her timepiece and not even as long ago as the look before last.

I must admit I felt some relief. Though I had so much wisdom and warning I could impart on her youth and naivety. She would face all the darkness and harshness life could throw at her. I hoped she’d mostly walk in light.

I drank the grit. The straits robin sang. Hopped once. Flipped twice. Then it turned around and flew away. It was then I knew she’d be just fine.

END

Woooooo! Gloooooo!

Some guys are making alterations to the filing racks in the office. There's varnish, filler and glue aplenty.

I've been breathing in the fumes for a while now.

Naturally, I'm high as a kite. Who needs drugs?

Hot Spicy!

It's been a week now since I started work at the office job. If you were wondering why it's such a big deal to me, I haven't worked in an office and for someone else for 5 years. I've still got my own little business running but I don't need to attend to it day in, day out. 99% of the time, I'm at home sitting on my ass anyway. So, when opportunity knocked, I answered.

So yeh, it's been a week. It amazes me that businesses still don't use their own email addresses. I suppose companyname@streamyx.com or companyname@pd.jaring.net is still okay. I'd rather a business have name@companyname.com. I just think it's more professional and a better presentation. Here's my gripe: companyname@hotmail.com or companyname@yahoo.com is downright unforgivable. Even worse, I've sometimes been asked to email employees' private yahoo or hotmail email addresses.

Hullo out there...? Getting your own domain name and to have email forwarding isn't very expensive. A little investment here might go a long way.

Other gripes I have are, I have no idea how some of these people do sales. They don't carry themselves well, are unpolished and borderline just-plain-rude. Might as well move these Ah Pek people from the front into the back offices and production lines where such brusqueness can be used to better effect.

As an extra rant, here's something I would like to bitch about. An excel file is a book. It contains pages or worksheets. It's not just one damn page. There are tabs on the bottom of the pages. They scroll horizontally. I have stupid people ringing me up and almost getting into an argument with me. Look at the bottom of the pages for the tabs, you fucking morons. Not that you will anyway. When I explained this nicely, all I get is attitude and adamance. I've adapted though. One simple question makes my life so much easier.

"Are you familiar with Excel?!?"

Shuts them up. They all say the same thing.

"Let me have another look and I'll get back to you."

They never do. If ever someone does, I'd have to label him or her: Beyond Help and Recovery.

Someone else couldn't open the file. Doesn't have Microsoft Office. Had to resend as an email comprising text in an email message. Another company had no email address. How tragic is that? They aren't a RM1.00 company. Their product range is huge. They can supply most of the things I'm asking for. I had to fax over a shopping list of no less than 30 pages.

But it made my day. After all the bad mojo I had yesterday, it really made my day, especially since it was the last thing I did before leaving the office.

I was speaking to the sales person. Perhaps gently chiding her on her company's lack of email address. I made hrmmm hmmmp noises indicating my displeasure at such a failing. "Fax the whole shopping list? Hrrrmmm hmmmmp...." As a last resort, I asked her if I could email the list to her own personal email address. I could feel reluctance emanating through the phone. But it was kind of embarrassed reluctance. Finally she said I could.

Her email address?

name_chilipadi@name.com

I didn't start, pause nor flinch. Instead I asked, still very politely and formally, "Is that chili with one L or two?" She replied that it was with one L. Then I asked, "chilipadi as one word?" and I received a confirmation. The remainder of the conversation was polite, amiable and professional. Then I hung up the phone.

That's when I cracked up.

Giggled my ass off.

It made my day. It was therapy!

What the @#$&*%*???

All of a sudden.

For no reason.

My blog can't be viewed from my domain name. A 404 error is what happens.

It happens on and off. If you're reading this, lucky you. You got in. I can't and it's my blog!

Do I revert to the brain-spillage.blogspot.com address? What annoys me further about this is that I noticed many blogger friends took the trouble to update their links to me to the www.brainspillage.com URL even though the old address would still work. For that I thank them and stress that crap like this shouldn't happen.

Is it google or my domain nameservers at fault?

I have no clue.

This sucks.

MetroFila

I was given birthday presents from my sister early. Makes sense since she was around Monday and she lives and works in Singapore.

It came in a Fila bag. I've been having a quiet chuckle at what's written on the side of the bag.

Our design speaks Italian

We are emotional

We are intensely passionate

We are feminine in view point but masculine in action

We are one company

One brand

One team

With one clear mission in mind

They could have saved a lot of ink and just put:

We are Metrosexual

Instead of blabbering on and on like that. Sounds like English slogans made by Ah Beng manufacturers. It was quite popular in the era of the carrot cut pants. In the 90s that is. Thank goodness it went the way of shoulder pads. I miss leg warmers though!

Formula Me

Me + (long sleeved shirt + slacks + socks and shoes) + leather sling bag + spectacles - lip ring - swearing = 925

Geddit?

Stealing Time

Here I am, pinching a bit of time from the company to put this down.

Well....

Chaaaaaaampiiiooonnnssss!!!!

At the start of this season that all I wanted for Manchester United was the Premiership title. All else was secondary. Done and done. Woohoo!

Chelsea FC doesn't get any sympathy from me. They do however get bucket loads of respect. The way they've played during the entire season has been fantastic. Last night's game though, the way they rallied one man down against Arsenal was magnificent.

I don't have to like them though but I don't hate them either. Football fans that hate other teams, I find, are kinda sad. If you live in England, and for example you live in Birmingham and support Villa and you hate Birmingham City, fine. Likewise Everton/Liverpool, Sunderland/Newcastle, Spurs/Gunners, bla bla bla/yakka yakka yakka. What are we, the overseas fans, after? Bragging rights over fans of rival clubs or cultivating a genuine love of the team and the game? Bandwagon fans jump aboard just to be able to bask in the glory of the team's successes and gloat over fans of rival clubs. Sad but appreciated. As I'd said before, more fans means more merchandise gets sold. More merchandise sold means more money for the club. I just don't want to talk football to any of them.

When I was in Perth, I hated Wollongong Wolves. I felt I was entitled to. They continued to be in the way of Perth Glory's umm.... glory. I lived in Perth, I went to every home game I could get to (on foot no less), I wore the shirt(s) and knew every player by name and number. I remember I gave a Wolves' player, Matt Horsley, the finger when he scored against Perth and I was behind the Glory goal. He had the cheek to wave and grin to us. I locked eyes with him and flipped him the bird. Of course the irony is that Perth Glory signed him the very next season! They also signed Damien Mori, NSL's top scorer, but by then I had left Perth. I left shortly after Perth had lost the NSL Grand Final at Subi Oval to.... Wolves. They eventually won it but by then I was out of touch with the Australian league.

I think I've stolen enough time from work. There's a supplier coming over with brochures as well. Heigh ho, heigh ho....