CHINDIANA TRAILS

Sometimes.. this job has its perks

2012-02-02T14:20:00.003+08:00

You are here with me. We're looking at this contract. We've just sent out a bunch of emails and we've got another two long emails to draft. One of which needs some thought on legal implications. After that I think I will head down to Warong Made's for a late lunch.

The morning rain lingers on the damp ground next to the swimming pool. The cold wind is refreshing after the early morning flight and cab ride to the hotel.

We've managed to cover half of Brock Lesnar's autubiography on the plane.

OOoohh the winds picked up. Hope it lasts for the meeting later with the client. He's just told me to come in shorts as he wants to have drinks outside. The beers should taste good on the beach near his home.

This will be a good work trip to Bali...

C3PO Alcoholic Relations Protocol Droid

2012-01-30T08:18:00.001+08:00

Of all places i found this incarnation of the inter-galactic duo at

my 80 year old aunt's home in the Rahang New Village in Seremban.

Dont say there're no geeks in the Kampung Barus yo!

Superwomen and Breast Cancer Awareness

2012-01-26T16:28:00.000+08:00

Somehow these ads from a Mozambique non profit organisation to spread awareness about breast cancer may not really reach out to to the female psyche as much as the nerd herd. Having these super women to be seen fondling their perfect super boobs will prob make a geek boy's wet dream. But i guess it did fulfill the objective of getting folks attention.

Originally picked up HERE and highlighted on The Score magazine's FB page.

Underworld Awakening Review

2012-01-25T11:07:00.000+08:00

Kate Beckinsdale in leather is back again. Who gives a shit if its popcorn fare thats not going to win any Oscars. Who cares that even fantasy reality is forsaken? (vampires are undead - they shouldn't have blood or beating hearts), the fourth installment gets Beckinsdale's Selene up the badass meter a coupla tens of notches. The violence here is visceral and when you see a vampire kid tear apart a werewolf's face in half you know the game's changed. There's no stupid love story here to slow down the pace. The franchise has wisely left the mushy vampire lovin' to the Twilight saga. Selene here is the combo of Sigourney Weaver's Momma Ripley meets a menopausal She-Predator.

Watch this if you want your action thick and violent. Sly and the family Expendables will find it hard to top this i think. WHen you have an angry vampire MILF laying the Smackdown on werewolfs who infiltrated government positions while she hunts for her kidnapped kid then just sit back and enjoy the action.

Ladies - best watched when you're pissed off at your boyfriend/husbands, your boss is a bullying bastard, your own-laws just dissed you this Chinese New Year or its simply That Time of The Month.

Guys - best watched because you're not a gay.

Lucas Retires

2012-01-24T09:37:00.002+08:00

A petulant Uncle George is calling it quits from blockbuster making. All the criticism levelled at him for mucking about his legacy (Solo ALWAYS will shoot first in my memory) and some self indulgent moments in his prequel trilogy has finally taken a toll.

George Lucas the Geek God of millions, whose creation changed to lives of millions of young men across the world was a visionary but not so much as the creator of Star Wars BUT the ancilary structures and businesses the created that enabled the movie franchise to move into the 21st century as a cultural phenomenon almost 40 years after its creation.

Uncle George was the first person to recognise merchandising as a key revenue generator and took on the the sole rights when the studios were willing to let it go, he created THX the sound engineering studio, Industrial Light and Magic the special effects division that would drive the look and feel of the prequels for the Play Station generation and also contribute to many other movies in the '80s and '90s. He made a inter galactic buddy movie that charmed us all, hired better directors in Empire and Jedi to keep the momentum going whilst he developed the back end tech that would make SW cutting edge at that time.

The Clone Wars cartoons are running on their own. Us fan boys are now still buying his toys although we're now calling them 'collectables', whatever he's contributed to actual story telling is self indulgent pottering around and reworking his old classics. George forgot he made a movie for fans. THe FANS, us kids who made him. It was my 9 year old self who bought 7 die cast X wings to form Rogue Squadron and a whole bunch of plastic figures. Yes, George i own a part of your ass.

With money comes an ego, and the visionary cant take the shtick. The Clone Wars will move on steadily and George will now continue to release Star Wars on every technological format to cash in on us again - HD, Digital, 3D, 4D (buy 4 ekor get a hologram clone trooper membership card) etc.

His days as a story teller were over a long time ago. Maybe its time he rediscovered his roots with his new direction. But wherever he's going or going to do, George made me dream, he made me fight the bad guys in space, under my bed and in my dreams. He made me believe that anything could happen and the bad guys wouldnt truimph forever.

So George, thank you sire and May the Force Be with You.

For the news break go here HERE

Happy Dragon Year Folks!

2012-01-23T15:15:00.004+08:00

Getting in the mood. A modified plant/card board dragon greets guests at

my aunts home at the Rahang New Village in Seremban early this morning.

More Dragon babies, hopefully a better economy. Happy holidays, watch the gambling and Drive safe folks and watch the crazy drivers on the highway.

Taking things for granted...

2012-01-21T09:14:00.003+08:00

Yep, in Manila your laptop is just as bad as a gun (which is a little more freely available in the Philippines). Picture taken at the lobby of a building somewhere in Manila.

Some car jackings in Manila is now done at gun point and a relative of a basketball player was gunned down during a game at a gym in front of his family. And we think we're a downtrodden lot...

An Attempt to write a blog post

2012-01-19T06:07:00.002+08:00

I am sitting in another airport. Its 6am ish and i have been up since 4am. I arrived back from Jakarta last night. My sleeping boxers remain the same from Indonesia. I will need to get a new set of underwear from Manila when i land later. Maybe a coupla pairs of socks too. I could fumigate a pirate colony with whats wrapped around my feet at the moment.

Tomorrow is a Suit Day and i hope the rashes wont hurt when the shirt and tie come on. Oh have i mentioned that this year is Chasing A Coupla Dreams Year. Remember all those wish full thoughts and dreams i have been telling some of you folks in the past (normally when i was pissed drunk and slurring like a coke smugglers prison bitch). Well i hope to get at least one or two out of my head and into the realm of reality.

There's a lot of good guys like us out there. We want that better life, the simpler life, away from cubicles, office politics, the concrete jungles and the fumes of one too many cars oh life's highway (overly dramatic yes but i AM on my second cup of coffee within the last 30 minutes).

Anticipate some rants in the next few days. Manila inspires me!

Peace out peoplessss.

Word...

2012-01-13T13:03:00.001+08:00

* Thanks to Ariel Spock for the share!

A Hero for the Rempits

2011-12-30T12:46:00.001+08:00

In brightest day, in darkest night,

No flat tire shall escape my sight,

Let those sufferring rusty nail plights

Beware my power,

Pancit Man's patching might!

Safari! Hatari! Born Free! Toto?

2011-12-26T11:12:00.000+08:00

Africa has always called out to me through memories of old movies, black and white reruns of tear jerker Born Free and the whistful lyrics of Toto's Africa, heard on late night easy listening radio stations, the images of mass migrations from every BBC, NatGeo and Discovery program, the ocean of grass that is the Serenggeti, the Masai Warriors, the mysterious dark jungles of the dark continent, the passionate words of Hemmingway that reached out to every schoolboy's adventurous soul (probably schoolboys above 40). I would always head out to the rubber plantation in the balmy afternoons behind my home playing pretend Great White Hunter, looking for prey to bring home truimphantly as a trophy to show my mum.

So it was only natural that we hit some Tanzanian national parks after descending from Kilimanjaro. We were to top it off by spending some time on the Serenggeti.

Our Toyota Land Cruiser, one bad ass motherlover, the choice of safari guides, Middle Eastern freedom fighters, and old Chinese uncles from Seremban to Batang Berjuntai.

We leave Moshi town which was our base to head to Lake Manyara about 7 hours away. Its a small reserve part of the near Ngorongoro Conservation Area. Manyara was small and I would advise most to give it a miss unless you're a hard core naturalist or just someone who likes driving 8 hours a day in a bouncing 4 wheel drive vehicle. Being smaller with more forests and as the trails were much closer to the foliage we get intimate with the baboons and monkeys personal grooming habits which include smelling and picking ticks out of each other's asshole. You would probably get closer to the elephants as well as the dirt road passed close to the foot of the hills where the elephants seemed to hang out.

We spend the first night at the Ngorongoro Lodge which is cosy enough, except that we were the only guests in the hotel, the staff seemed nervous, doors wouldnt shut, the black cat kept waiting for the girls outside the dining hall to escort them back to their rooms and also the quiet stealthly Masai watch man who would suddenly appear behind us or be seen in a distance just standing and looking at us. Can anyone say Tanzanian Chainsaw Massacre?

The road leading into the Ngorongoro Crater.

The next morning we drive up to the Ngorongoro Crater. This reminded me of Crichton/ Spielberg's Lost World where the national park lies in the massive crater.

The drive in is awe inspiring and the crater stretches as far as the eye can see. Being at altitude, clouds caress the crater rim as we drive down deeper into the valley below. Most of the elephants keep to the rim or the edge of the crater with exceptions to the bull elephants. The grazers and predators chill out on the valley below.

View from the crater floor. Awesome is it not my young Padawans?

Even in the bright sunshine the wind is cold. The grass plain stretches to the beginings of the hills and mountains and white clouds stretch out across the clear blue sky. We're bumping about in the Land Cruiser, the roof is raised and the chill wind envelopes our faces with the faint smell of animal urine and dung in the air around us. Good morning Africa, said the little boy who took a wooden slingshot gun into the rubber estates of Seremban to look for lions.

Lunch in a crater. We hit a swampy area, the main lunch spot for city slicker tourists

We drive around the the inside of the crater looking for the Big 5 (Lion, Hippo, Leapord, Rhino and Elephant) to check off the list most animal spotters sub consciously bring on Safari. We see all but the leapord inside the Ngorongoro Crater. We pull up to a lovely lake by the swamp which hosts a family of hippos. Here, with other safari-ers we hang out under the bright noonday sunshine and munch on our packed lunch.

Lunch spot at Ngorogoro Crater

You are here with me. The sun shine is hot but the cold strong wind is blowing hard and you have to squint hard across the shining rippling, startling blue water of the lake. White cotton candy clouds dot the blue blue sky as the simple egg sandwich settles nicely in our stomachs. The hungry cawing from the scavenger birds overhead sets a soundtrack as you walk against the cold wind under the bright sunshine towards the lake. Ripples race across the blue surface as the green reeds wind dance energetically at the lake's edge. Africa today was is a beautiful mood. Life for us today, just you and I, is good.

With dusk a less than an hour away we drop my a Masai village nearby the Sopa Lodges, our hotel for the night. This seemed like more a touristy cultural village than an actual Masai village although some of the huts looked lived in, and the herds of cows were seen nearby at the valley below. My personal feel is that many of the Masai in this village live in nearby villages and they just turned up for their 'performance' which included the traditional dance which they made the girls and one reluctant guy in the group to follow. They gave us a history of the Masai which you can find online anyway.

The unofficial PR officer for the Masai village near Sopa Lodges. She would normally

handle the ladies on tour to get them to dance with the Masai.

Masai accessories made for tourists. The beads are

bought in nearby villages where they craft it themselves.

Masai huts made from mud, leaves, cow dung and other exotic materials.

Keeps the cold nights out on the plains.

A little Masai kid that seemed the only real thing at the Masai village that seemed to be more an act for tourists (which they were charging US20bucks per pop to share a little of their lives)

I have to say that the Masai that i met along the way just came across an an opportunistic indegenious group who was living to dig out as much US dollars from tourists. On a drive as i was taking pictures of a valley with a mountain in the distance, one Masai goat herder ran up to the Land Cruiser demanding money just because his village was somewhere in the valley below. I believe our cool driver Chris told him to fuck off in Swahili.

We check into the Sopa Lodges which has an excellent 5 star service. I must say if there is any hotel you are going to stay during the safari or your stay in Tanzania make yours the Sopa Lodge at Ngorongoro. Where else does a smiling warm lady turn up at your door after you check in to put hot water bottles under your blankets so your bed's all warm and toasty when you crawl in? We celebrate Choe's birthday here with the fantastic accomodating staff turning off the lights in the lovely dining hall and parading in with lighted fire torches and the birthday cake to clapping of many hands from friends and strangers alike.

The view on the road from Sopa Lodges to the Serengetti. I screwed up the picture and now it looks retarded. I overexposed it and the original you could not really make out the background. Oh there's that Masai village just above the tree line on the left.

We leave the Ngorogoro Crater the next day and drive down gorgeous valleys towards the Serengetti.

The view from the lookout hill at Nabi Gate.

The Serenggeti stretches to the horizon.

We enter the Serengettin via the Nabi Hill gate. From the view point the plains stretch out to the horizon. The weather is fantastic as we stand on our green oasis as we look out onto the endless parched plains that surround us.

Wide, WIDE open spaces.

Lunch spot at Mawe Upei hill

After much hunting we pull up to the Mawe Upei Hill for lunch. I treasured these small stops as i felt i could take in more of the coutry just sitting on a bench, smelling the grass, trees, old dung, hearing the birds, the grunting of warthods nearby, the sudden movements of peasansts in bushes, to enjoying the startling white cloudscapes against a canvas of rich blue sky.

Oh yeah, the animals...

Can anyone spot the lion in this picture? Firt person who does gets a special gift card from moi. (not applicable to you fellers who Kili-ed with me)

Almost roadkill - Bucks running across the road in the Serengetti

Morning bath - hippos at the Serenggeti

Lioness at the Ngogogoro crater

Zebras at Ngorongoro crater

Elephant family at Lake Manyara

Giraffe on the main road from Moshi to the Ngorogoro Conservation Area

Can you say Blue Balls? The Vervet monkey at Lake Manyara

A well hung gentleman just for you ladies.

Buffalo herd at Ngorogoro Crater

Rock Hyrax at Seronera Lodges, Serenggeti

N'goro Crater zebras

Buffalo skull at the Serenggeti gate exit. No matter what it's just a

reminder that it's life or death anytime on the plains

Seronera Lodge pool

We spend our final night on the Serenggeti at the Seronera Lodge where the welcoming pool entices most of our group into a late afternoon dip while the sun set over the hills of the Serenggeti.

The Tree Hugger pulling a pose

The soaking Princess

The enchanting Seronera Lodge dining hall.

Not the best of shots. I need lessons!

After dinner the moon is out in full glory and i stand on the obsevation platform as the cold winds of the African night swirl around me. Its quiet bar the sounds of generators. The silence is broken by the night cries of birds in the bush somewhere. It cold here. Out there in the dark the predators are probably on the hunt. But up here on my patform with the wind against my face, with the quiet exchange of words between the tripod equipped photographers on my right, the Serengetti is peace personified.

The Lobo airfield along the way as we exited via the Serengetti Gate.

View of the Oldinyo Lengai volcano from the

tribal 'toll' booth near Lake Natron

The next day we leave bright and early. We're taking a different route today, heading North, past the Lobo air field, before exting via the Serenggeti gate taking us past Lake Natron and the Oldinyo Lengai volcano before exiting the hard rough dirt road at Mosquito River where we'd meet up with the main tar road that would take us back to Moshi. This roundabout path will take us about 12 hours to reach Moshi compared to the 7 plus it took us via a more direct road.

We are on non commercial grounds, passing by Masai villages where they have set up their toll barriers to charge dumbass tourists 'visa' fees. Chris our driver does an incredible job negotiating us out of the excorbitant USD50 per head they were asking for every tourist. We had to negotiate at least two of the barriers along the road. On this road there was only another Land cruiser heading back to Moshi with us.

Our 2 Land cruisers race each other across the barren dessert, kicking up white and brown dust like a knife cut across the dark brown earth. My ass is shuddering on the hard seat that had long lost it 'cushion'. The cold wind stings out face, young Masai shepheards wave to the twin metal monsters grinding their way across hard terrain.

Behind us, the Serenggetti spreads out to the heavens. its plains only giving way to the startling blue skies lovingly caressed by the fluffiest of white clouds. The grazers graze and the predators sleep off last night's kill. The history of mankind, it's aura, smell, spirit and being encompasses us, more a part of us than the grimy dust that cakes our faces, clothes, hair.

Africa called and we came. Now we needed to find a tree or a bush for an urgent toilet break without having to deal with the potential of a hungry lion wandering about. My kingdom for a plastic bag....

Lunch break on the parched volanic soil near the volcano

View from our speeding Cruiser as we head to Mosquito River

A painter at Mosquito River

I like the ending when we spent some time checking out some artists at Mosquito River. The quiet dignity of these guys put things in perspective after the roller coaster of peaking on Kilimanjaro, the frantic Land Cruiser escapades across the plains of Africa as these young men painted with vibrant colors, the life of Africa. Masai villages, lions, fishes, the strong elegant lines of Masai in dance and in daily life.

By the time we reach Moshi, we're tired and caked in sand and grime from the drive. We had driven through deserts, hard terrain, past volcanos and lakes and villages that not many tourists see. We had cut through lush jungles on a slender two lane road, past whizzing lorries, trucks, cars and bikes. And as we check back into the Buffalo Hotel in Moshi, we realize that there was still a lot more to see of Africa. For now, till i board another plane for the Dark Continent i can only touch Africa with rereads of Hemmingway, NatGeo and replays of that old Toto CD i have lying around.

Anti-Twilight Medication

2011-12-15T11:21:00.000+08:00

Best taken with 5 jugs of beer before dinner...

and some spicy chicken wings.

with wildboar curry.

Options there are...

2011-12-07T11:06:00.001+08:00

'nuff said...

* Thanks to LCB for the heads up!

Now THATs Having Fun on a Runway

2011-12-01T09:37:00.000+08:00

Safari Preview

2011-11-28T14:02:00.002+08:00

The 2 Land cruisers race each other across the barren dessert, kicking up white and brown dust like a knife cut across the dark brown earth. My ass is shuddering on the hard seat that had long lost it 'cushion'. The cold wind stings out face, young Masai shepheards wave to the twin metal monsters grinding their way across hard terrain.

Bali, Mraz and Drunken Fingers...

2011-11-20T09:09:00.014+08:00

Sunset Kuta Beach

I've put the Girlfriend of Chindi thorough a lot of my grumpy moods so when I heard that Jason Mraz (her fav singer was holding an acoustic session on a beach in Bali (also the GFoCs fav island) I decided it was a great enough an excuse to head south to the Indonesian island.

We all love Bali dont we, the mysticism, the people, the surf crashing against temple temple throned cliffsides, the pure debauchery of Kuta, the chic lustre of Seminyak, the quite comtemplation of the rice fields of Ubud and the reaching out to the Gods on Agung Mountain and the mystical lakes in the middle of the island.

So's we get head on down - no plans, just to take things easy, catch Mraz and his buddy Tikotiki Capacabana sorry i meant Toca River, do an unplugged session Taman Bagawan in Nusadua on the 9th of November.

The best way to enjoy Bali is to take it easy and thats what we did. Below are just some pics to share with you on our experience.

Temple Carvings at Kuta Beach

Baddass old monkey in Uluwatu. I would give

him money if he had asked.

We arrived on the 8th of Nov. Chilled out by the hotel and did some shopping in the surf shops before heading out to Hard Rock for some live band action. We hit Uluwatu the next day to just catch up with the old temple there (the GFoCs loves visiting the temples of Bali). Somehow the place seems to have lost its lustre. I hope that the opening up of these sacred temples to toursts doesnt end up with them being places of curiosity and bringing an end to the thousands of years of worship and prayer.

Warong Made's Special Nasi Campor. Awesome

and filling espcially with a Coke.

Lunch we hit Warond Made in Kuta. Its just behind our hotel so its convenient. I end up later having very early beers by the hotel pool with a Balinese friend before we take an early cab to Nusa Dua for the concert.

I've got to hand it to Mraz. I wasnt much of a fan but he's quite good with the crowd and yes he has a good voice for these times. Almost 6,000 Indonesians and tourists lapped up his repertoire. Since we were by the beach the GF and myself took our time to walk around the park we were in and chilled sipping ice frappes from the Starbucks stall nearby. We were lucky enough to catch an honest Bluebird cab driver in the mad rush out of Nusa dua just after the concert ended.

Souvenir shop product at Tanah Lot

We hit Tanah Lot the next day. What many folks dont realise there's a park on the right of the gates to the main temple which is scenic and pretty and also leads to the other temple Pura Balong (GFoC! correct spelling?) which is kinda cool. Tanah Lot is best experienced in the evenings watchin the sun set while having a cold beer. We were there in the late morning and while it was a little hot, the tide was too high to walk to the main temple.

Pura Balong temple at Tanah Lot. Note the tiny surfer just

below the temple in the water.

A statue at the Tanah Lot Park

Prayers at a smaller temple in the Park

A Krisna outlet in Kuta

Bali is a bit of a tourist trap if you're shopping along the beaches and the thousands of crappy stalls spread throughout the island. If you want no bullshit shopping head to one of the 4 Krisna outlets in Kuta and Denpasar for very reasonble but fixed price shopping. They've got a wide range of products from foodstuff, clothings and artwork.

The fancy roof of Galuh Bali Spa.

We hit the Galuh Bali spa where i get some sloppy stuff slapped on me and them am encrusted in mud which is then scrubbed off with a vengence. I did this for the woman of course. Although i must admit i did feel purty after that.. The service was rushed for such a fancy joint - prob a place for tourists and not asians who know our massages and spa stuff.

Galuh Bali's hobbit home inspired entrance

We head back to freshen up and then head back to Hard Rock to meet Putu, the GF's old buddy from her Indonesian Adventuring days. Putu is not much of a drinker but the band's better today and they're actually singing all our requests. Picture above taken after 2 jugs of beer.

Picture above and below taken after 5 jugs of beers

and 3 plates of chicken wings.

The Girlfriend of Chindi outside HRC. I still have no idea what setting this was on. I guess drunk fingers do wander...

Hope you guys enjoyed this slight diversions before i continue the African adventures!

Kilimanjaro Yo!

2011-11-15T09:33:00.002+08:00

So here i am, at the Machame Gate ready for a 7 day 6 night trek up to the Kilimanjaro, the Roof of Africa. The last time I had scaled anything higher than 18,ooo ft was about 20 years when i had hiked up the Thronglar Pass in Nepal. So here i was 20 years older in age and in fitness with a bad back and knees that would prefer to be sipping a cold beverage on the beaches of Bali instead of scrambling up volcanic scree on a -15 degree pre-dawn jaunt up a 19,000 foot mountain.

My strategy when i confirmed this trip was to train like Rocky, build up the physical strength to take on the extended outdoor hike and prep with the best possible gear my meagre budget could afford. 2 weeks before my flight to Kilimanjaro via Bangkok and Nairobi i realized my ACTUAL training consisted of once a fortnight frolic in Gasing hills and once a month futsal with regular bouts of physical arm wrestling with jugs of beer in smoky dimly lit bars.

In other words - physically I WAS FUCKED LIKE A LAME FROG ON A HIGHWAY.

Strategy 2 was simple enough - just take it one fucking step at a time and enjoy myself as much as i could. I wasnt going to push myself too much if i had a choice.

So we land in Kilimanjaro and head to Moshi town where we spent a day getting to know our chief guide Jushua (more on this in another post) where we visited his home in the village fo Himo.

We sleep early but i get woken up by my travel mates The Tree Hugger, Astroboy, The Princess, Choe and Steph with a midnight birthday celebration. Yes, I turned 42 in Africa thorough a groggy haze of interrupted sleep and a birthday cake that made me to be 24. Thank you Princess!

Get early to the park to register folks. Thems long queues awaitin'!

We head off the Macahme gate at about 930am and there's already a long queue forming to register to the begining of the trek. The porter/guide ratio to one climber is 3:1. Our group of 7 had a support crew of 25 which included Chief Guide, Guide, 2 Assistant Guides (who doubled as porters), a chef and his assistant, 2 waiters (yes we were spoilt a little) and porters.

In front of us, Lloyds Bank from England showed that they were not suffering so much financially when they sent a group of 35 climbers on a charity event with a support crew of 100! It wouldnt do to get caught behind this group during the few stops with actual working toilets...

A White Necked Raven at Machame Gate and a regular sight on the mountain as they seemed to hang about the trails and camps along the way, probably from the food brought up the mountain by the climbing teams. One of these guys was seen pecking on my then crusty Nike Pro tights on Day 3 at Barranco. Somewhere out there lies a dead raven amidst the rocks of the great mountain....

The Machame trail is lovely with a wide wide well prepared path that winds you through a lush tropical forest over about 7 hours to Machame Camp. This is an easy climb that you can take your time to enjoy. I had forgotten to keep my point and shoot Canon close to my body heat and some of the focus mechanisms starting jamming up as i reached the halfway point up the trail as the tempreture started dropping in the shade of the jungle.

Tree trunk looking like an elegant African babe

A sample of the toilets found at the camp sites along the trail. Aim well my young Padawans. Imagine the worse case scenario of this wooden structure, at 4am in the pitch icy coldness when you have to expose your bare ass to the universe while struggling with a toilet roll in your heavily gloved hands as the howling winds outside shake this fragile structure on its foundations. A curiously intimate bond is formed between your exposed fragility and the elements as your soul soars and connects with Mother Nature in an attempt to counter check bitter cold with a mental connection between man and the world... Damn, i am so full of shit. Either that or i need coffee...

Moving on...

DAY 2 - Machame to Shira Camp (3837m)

The next morning is a bright beautiful day as the morning brings with a sunshine and blue skies. We gear up after a quick breakfast for the 3-5 hour hike to Shira Camp which is at . The terrain starts to change from the think forests to a sort of moorish terrain with rocks and low shrubs.

Its today that the unpredictable weather up in the mountains rears its head. Along with the winds comes the rains. We're lucky that it starts to lightly drizzle and i am not sure what it is with rain in colder climates, the light rain doesnt soak you to your bone as it does in Malaysia after a few minutes, here they bounce off even cotton fabrics. As we hit more rocks this does make the going a little tricky with the slippery surfaces.

After a while it starts to lightly snow with the rain. We make our way the balance of the way in the sleet to Shira Camp.

Even among the dreary landscape there was some surprises of color

Shira camp with the helicopter landing site

By the time we hit Shira Camp its bright and sun shiny again. We hit Shira just around 4pm and the Tree Hugger, Astro Boy and myself decide to take the 30 minute walk to the nieghboring Shira Hut camp that sits closer to the Shira Plateu.

These pictures dont do it justice but it was a stunning site, especially after climbing for two days we see a plateau spreading out before us along the walk betwenn both camps. Even the clouds seem to keep within an invisible barrier between the slightly cloudy section of the valley from Machame and the point where the Plateu began. Its a very pleasant walk watching the sun set between an explosion of white clouds and startling blue skies. The Shira Hut Camp is smaller then the Shira Camp. Many of these hikers had started on the plateu using the Route.

Day 3 - On To Barraco (3976m)

Today is the longest day almost 8 hours to Barraco Camp. We're taking slightly longer as we're making a detour to the Lava Tower at about 4,600meters to get acclimatized after which we would decend through Mordor-esque terrain to the Barraco Camp crossing a few small rivers and streams.

Here the thin air starts to make its presence felt. Breathing is a bitch even after sucking water from my Camelbak made me breathless. Its hours on hours of a low methodical pace through the a terrain that was losing its greenery and giving way to a deserting feel. Again the weather alternated between chilly and hot depending on the clouds and winds.

At this point i just kept my head down and kept to a slow pace, occasionally stopping to take some pictures but gave up quickly as i realised that it pushed me further away from the steady pace the advance group was keeping. Trying to catch up with them as a slightly faster pace was pointless as it left me breathing like a fish out of water having an orgasm.

The imposing Barraco Wall that we had to scramble up. Can you spot the tiny Tree Hugger in teh picture?

We hit Barraco late around 5pm. We realise that we cant really trust some of the guides timing. With what looks like endless winding trails around steep rock covered mountainsides and a weaving path that goes on endlessly your internal sense of timing gets screwed up a little. It doesn't help when a guide's "only 45 minutes" can end up to be 2 hours. Here Jedi-like patience is key and it helps that the only Sith around to fuck with is at this point is a weak bladder and a sense of extreme modesty along a very very busy trail.

Day 4 - Beyond the Barraco Wall and on to Karanga (4033m)

We wake up the next morning to snow on the ground at Barraco. It had rained heavily the night before which had left my balls in a bitter mood. The snow however was more ice than snow ball friendly which made hiking extremely tricky for the scramble up the imposing Barraco Wall.

There is only one path going up the wall and with a slightly later start we're stuck as the human traffic is backed up all the way. With about 200 plus trekkers on our route with almost 600 guides, porters, cooks and waiters, its a lot of bodies on on the very tight, narrow rock path up the steep cliff. We spend more than an hour on the first part of the wall.

The weather gets chilly at the top with mist moving in. From here on we're not stopping for long lunches anymore. We want to start moving on just to keep the pace steady and not get caught in any cold misty fronts moving in.

Looks easy but the ice covered ground made even

crossing a small stream a really tricky business

View from halfway up the Barraco Wall. Respect to the porters yo!

DAY 5 - Karanga to Barafu (4673m)

We wake to a glorious morning at Karanga Camp. We're above most clouds now at 4033 meters. We see Mount Meru in a distance with its peak peeking above soft conforting clouds. We're at the step of the houses of the gods now.

Kilimanjaro in the background

Quiet contemplation above the clouds

Our trusty fragile tent that kept away the freeing cold and rains (and that scamppering jungle rat)

This was definitely not a lonely trek. The long trails and open terrain was spotted by people as far as the eye could see. Sure it was not Disneyland but you would not feel left alone (unless you left the trail to take a shit of to indulge in some high altitude snookimoochies)

The trek is now almost routine for us. The steep hills and deep valleys are of dramatic consequence. We just take things by the numbers and head for Barafu Camp about 3-4 hours away. We're arriving at about 230pm. We just chill in our mess tent. The plans are to have a early dinner at 6pm, get a coupla of hours of sleep before making the ascent at midnight. We anticipate reaching the Stella's Point in 7 hours and Uhuru Peak in another hour or so.

At Barafu with a hot tea in my hands is where i discovered the magic and wonder of Kilimanjaro. As i sat there, below me lay an ocean of whispy clouds. We were above the world now, sipping tea above almost all the population of this Earth. And yet, life went on. Porters scurried down the paths coming and going. Climbers who had peaked a few hours before now making their truiphant journeys home. A porter rushes by quickly home to his family, after a gruelling week of herculean efforts, to see his week old baby boy, European climbers in their expensive gear, grin from ear to ear, waiting to get back to their civilazation to execute full boasting rights. They walk past me, and the long winding rock path winds down into the valley below until they become specks in the distance, stories, people, dreams and just another pay day all walking, hurrying, toiling before disappearing into the mists and clouds.

I've run out of tea, but I still sit on. How often can you look down on clouds and breath the fresh clean air of immortals?

Our crew taking a breather before the ascent. Only 4 guides would be escorting us

to the Peak

The Tree Hugger getting one with the world

Barafu sunset before ascent

Day 6 - Barafu to Kilimanjaro Peak Ascent (5895m)

Above the skies, above the pollution and above whispy, rolling fields of clouds the heavens above a truly magic. The incredibly bright moon, unencumbered by man's airborne pollutants shines down like an astral streetlight, lighting up the mountain trail before us as we scrable up loose rocks and volcanic scree. The stars, are bright lights, often being mistaken for the head lamps of climbers much, much further up the steep scree slope leading up to Stella's Point at 18,ooo plus ft.

I take the luxury of a short stop, hoping my body wont cool down too much to leaden my muscles, I look away from the path eastward. The morning sun is waking up. Above, up in the thin air, literally on the roof af Africa, a fierce blood red and golden yellow band stretches across the entire horizon in front of me, curving slightly across the horizon. The first signs of day break after an icy cold 6 hours in minus 15 degrees.

Up here, above the kingdoms of men and clouds, we are not welcome as guests by the god peaks of Uhuru or Mawezi. We are instead tolerated as slightly amusing pests, seeking visions of grandeur by attempting to scale the shoulders of immortals. The stars as always chirp their support but its the moon, with paternal warmth that today bathes our path with clear illumination.

Above and below me, hundreds of head lamps, form a human string of moving stars, all slowly in synchronized steps moving ever closer to the night sky above.

I grip my hiking poles harder, the biting cold is getting through my gloves and try to catch up with the rest. Behind the the golden band is slowly bringing light to the cold night. The cold wind swirls around my unprotected nose. My feet are still steady, the peak is close. Nice. Just a few more steps.

Not a bad way to spend a morning...

The tougher Kilimajaro peak of Mawenzi (5491m) silhoutted by the morning sun

The receding glaciers on Kilimanjaro

Day 7 - Barafu to Mweka Camp (3068m)

The descent from the Peak is quick. I cant remember much of it, just me and Astro Boy 'skiing' down the loose volcanic skree which was awesomely cool but a vicious bitch on my knees. It may have taken about 4-hours down back to Barafu Camp. We're greeted by our waiter who serve us ice cold mango juice which is heavenly. A quick lunch later and we're off to head downwards to Mweka Camp which is at 3068 meters. We will spend the night here and then head down to the park where we will check out with the rangers and head back to our accomodations at Moshi Town.

Tree Hugger lacing the problematic shoes with Mawezi in the background

The trails start off at a gentle descent before getting steeper and rockier at the heather and forest sections. Once we make camp at Mweka we realize that we have to sort out our tips for the guides. Little did we know that our tips would make up quite a substantial part of their fees, something most travel agents just tell you pay what you feel. Head guide Jushua came in and gave us the standard rates. we realized that we had to meet them half way. It was way above my budget as initially we were told it was a USD90 tip for all our guides. Now with over 25 crew it was no way that our 7 combined tips would make much difference so we topped up at USD235 each. This excluded the extras we woulld give to the individual guides who helped us (carrying our gear, etc) I topped up another USD100 for Jushua and that old scheemer Francis (my grandfather always said respect the elders)

After breakfast on Day 7 all the guides, porters, cooks and waiters perform the 'Tipping Dance' where in a way they're literally singing for their meals. However this bunch of great guys really seemed to get into it and on that cold rainy morning, with a hot meal in our tum tums it was a perfect happy ending to our last day on the slopes of Kilimanjaro.

So what do you take out of it? It the altitude that's the problem. Fitness is important but as you can see from my own bad state of working out it worked for me. Getting used to sleeping in a tent in very cold conditions and taking a predawn shit outdoors is key. Rushing through the moutain didnt give me much time to take it all in but the Barafu break did wonders. Would I do it again? its not a no but c'mon this world still has so much to see. Sleeping on the steppes of Mongolia? Play tennis on Galapagos, arm wrestle an armadillo in Texas?

Why not eh? where to start...

Top 6 Quotes by Malaysians in Africa

2011-11-03T09:55:00.002+08:00

Yes I am fucking insanely slow to upload the Kilimanjaro post. But in the meantime I thought i'd share with you guys some of the more memorable utterances that came out of me and my travel partners during our little jaunt around Kilimanjaro and the various national parks in Tanzania.

Here goes y'all:

When the altitude gets to you:

1. "180 cm is 2 meters right - The Princess

2. "Is that the shadow's clouds? - Da Steph

When you share a tent with another dude AND having to sleep on slopes and mountain sides:

3. "Sliding into Tree Hugger in the middle of the night was nice and warm" - uhh... that was Me. I meant i kept rolling down the slopes into him. Blame it on the altitude.

4. "My tent smells of boy" - The Tree Hugger

When you're seeing wildlife up close for the first time:

5. " The elephants lips looks like a labia" - The Princess

6. "The warthog has a sexy ass. From the back it looks like Beyonce in heels" - yep, the Princess again.

Preview - Kilimanjaro

2011-10-24T11:33:00.005+08:00

Sunset the day before the ascent from Barafu Camp at about 15,300 ft.

Above the skies, above the pollution and above whispy, rolling fields of cloud,s the heavens above a truly magic. The incredibly bright moon, unencumbered by man's airborne pollutants shines down like an astral streetlight, lighting up the mountain trail before us as we scrable up loose rocks and volcanic scree. The stars, are bright lights, often being mistaken for the head lamps of climbers much, much further up the steep scree slope leading up to Stella's Point at 18,ooo plus ft.

Above and below me, hundreds of head lamps, form a human string of moving stars, all slowly in synchronized steps moving ever closer to the night sky above.

Not a bad way to spend a morning...

Best and FIRST Birthday Surprise Party

2011-10-19T16:17:00.002+08:00

I'd like to thank the Girlfriend of Chindi who pulled off this two months worth of planning to catch me off guard for my 42nd birthday. It was of course held earlier as i was going to head out to Africa a few days before the big day.

My cupcake birthday cake basically has elements of the toys that are lying around the house as well as the Lego figures of me and the GF. What you wont see in this picture are the flyers with pictures of Cinderella, Beauty and Snow White hanging from the ceiling of Bubbles Bar (a testament to my gay magnetism or maybe it was just them hinting that i am a bit of a princess).

I really thought it was going to be just the two of us and one or two friends having quite drinks. To J, Ah Turner, Ah Chanzzzz, Ah Chongzzz, The Captain (thanks for that flaming shit), Ah Lim, The Tree Hugger, Ah Me, Aunty Yvonne, Az and the rest of the gang for working with the lil GF to pull this surprise off.

Nice feeling to have a surprise party. There's a first for everything. I would appreciate less of princess flyers. The Toy Story ones were fine.

I still havent grown up enough it seems....

Off To Africa

2011-10-01T12:50:00.002+08:00

My first trip to the dark continent. bringing up memories of Gods mUst be Crazy, Roots, Kunta Kinte, King's Solomon's Mines and a whole slew of old school Safari movies (yes including Born Free) and yes i am that old.

So i attempt to scale Kilimajaro. My last endevour at that height therebouts (19,000 ft) was almost 20 years ago in Nepal when i crossed the Thronglar Pass.

Now with injuries to back, knees, ankles and some minght say my mind, i am taking this little jaunt up Africa's highest peak.

See you guys in two weeks time!

Pulau Ketam, Selangor, Malaysia

2011-09-22T21:54:00.002+08:00

The ferry from Port Klang to Pulau Ketam

Last week the Girlfriend of Chindi and the girls from the Kuantan Rescue Rangers and I decided to head to the tiny mangrove island of Pulau Ketam just off Port Klang.

Pulau Ketam is infamous for being a dirty shithole as garbage disposal on the island reflects many of the forgotten pockets of Malaysian communities forgotten by politicians simply because they probably didnt make up a large voting block to make a difference.

Here, a very rare sight to many susburban KL-ites is seeing Chinese fishermen toiling a hard day at sea. We head here only with the thought of getting fresh sea food and with no other expectations besides a 30 minute ferry ride from Port Klang to the island.

The interior of the ferry

One of the 'fancier' buildings on the island

The GFofC attempting to surf up a slope... (notice the Fire Department building is sponsored by Carlsberg)

The main market and restaurant street

Pulau Ketam is made up of two main villages - Kampung Sungei Lima and Kampung Pulau Ketam itself. The moment you get off the ferry you're transported by to the past of Malaysia. When many Chinese lived in new villages in wooden little homes and very very narrow roads.

A part of the charm and yes even the rubbish strewn waist high in some places is the rustic 'realness' of the place. Its a place where the work is hard the life is simple. Its about a community seperated from the rest of the state which has kept the face of it's past by virtue of its isolation.

The basic facts oft repeated in the yearly newspaper articles about the quaint island:

1. Because of the mangrove and soft soil on the island there are no road. All the homes are built on stilts and elevated above the sea.

2. The ONLY mode of transportation on the island are bicycles.

3. The fire department is made up of volunteers.

4. The island is home to mainly Chinese fishermen while a tiny group of mainly Malays work at the goverment facilities - the police station and clinic.

5. And yes, the sea food is great!

6. And cheap!

Market street

Across this little canal was where some of the 'boat workshops' were based

The largest of the few temples on the island.

One of the cleaner parts of the village - trust me its worse in many parts.

Surprisingly though many of the houses are very very quaint with many renovations done in the interior. The colors are bright and chirpy and many of the owners have put their traditional touches onto their homes.

Recycling your kids toys

Foosball thats seen better days

Crab with salted egg yoke, steamed crab, butter prawns and cockels

in Chinese wine.

Kim Hoe restaurant - the only restaurant that was packed to the brim. They have a halal branch just opposite. The food here is recommended

Da Bill:

1. Steamed Crab

2. Slated egg yoke crab

3. Kailan vegetables for 5

4. Meehoon for 5

5. Butter prawns

6. Mantis prawns

7. About 8 canned drinks

Total Bill RM225.50 (USD80 bucks plus)

Life here is a different world away from what we wake up to every day. The sea is their livelihood but the young of Kampung Ketam are leaving for jobs on the mainland. Will this little remainder of our past remain forever? Of course not. Even with the few weekend tourists who make their way here to sample to great food and cam whore in the old world charm of the village, its not enough to keep the young blood interested in a hard life in fishing for a living.

Fishing boats at Port Klang

But in the meantime, if you have half a weekend to yourself why not take that ferry over to the island of the crabs. The food is good and that cold beer in the Chinese coffee shop will taste that much better as the sea wind flows along the village in the heat of the afternoon sun.

For more information on Pulau Ketam including it's history, profile, ferry schedules and even some places to stay go to www.pulauketam.com .

Getting there:

Train : Its kinda fun to take KTM commuter from KL Sentral to PELABUHAN KELANG (DONT get off at Klang town like some grumpy fucker I know - Thanks for the reminder Josie)- the journey will take about 60 -65 minutes. And the ferry terminal is just across from the train station.

Driving there depends a little on the traffic in Klang town and/or if you know your way around - 45 minutes.

Port Klang to Pulau Ketam Ferry:

RM7 bucks one way and RM14 for Return. (jouney takes about 30 minutes but 45 minutes if the ferry makes a stop at Kampung Sungei Lima.

You know you're outdatedly old when...

2011-09-19T09:21:00.004+08:00

1. You don't recognize ANY of the actresses in the showbiz news section of the local papers.

2. You look at the hordes of Justin Beliebers and think to yourself "there's no stopping that zombie apocalypse. "

3. You actually wish while driving on a dark lonely night, on a long highway from Ipoh that IF the Fugees didnt break up we would be having more of Lauryn Hill and Wyclef instead of the Black Eyed Peas and Will. I. Am's mind sucking dribble. Fergie of course can sit on my face anytime...

4. When you check out Star Wars merchandise you click on 'The Original Trilogy' AND NOTHING ELSE.

5. You now buy a car based on price, mileage, boot space and 'accessibility for mum' after getting rid of that car that was based on 'decent amount of sex pull'

6. Sex is now experienced as a bottle of wine and not 50 cents happy hour beer sessions at the Boston Bar. SOMETIMES its experienced as a glass of warm milk with a handful of Oreos.

SOME times only...

7. The thought of running a marathon now carries the same appeal as being buggered by a horde of rabid durians.

8. The yearning for a large corporate office with a fancy job title has unconditionally been replaced by the craving for a hammock by a beach and just enough weed to make the sea gulls sound like Bob Marley.

9. Gore-Tex can't beat an industrial garbage bag.

10. You realize your soul died in 1999 when Jar Jar went "messaweesadobydinkywankme'.

Fetch by Banksy

2011-09-15T22:49:00.000+08:00

Semen on 3 Wheels

2011-09-15T13:07:00.002+08:00

The wonders of a corrupted mind on an Indonesian highway...

4 Hours early with no where to go

2011-09-11T06:18:00.002+08:00

Thats right, I'm at an airport 4 hours before a flight. Pigs take flight, unicorns skate down rainbows and gay men do a macarena parade with Teletubbies and drunk Ewoks.

Miscommunication is a bitch and here I am, sitting alone at KL International Airport which is pretty much a ghost town compared to the Mos Eisley-ian chaos that is the Low Cost Carrier Terminal further down the road.

I could still be in bed. I could still be JUST scratching my balls and trying to force the blanket off me. Coulda woulda...

Think I'll go over to FB and see if anyone has posted up any bikini pictures....

Bored at Home.....

2011-09-05T22:53:00.000+08:00

The Lonely Planet's Langkau Follies

2011-08-31T13:26:00.005+08:00

Langkau strikes on a global level! I am now honored that I now have TWO menaces to society whom I call friends.

Take a read above on from Lonely Planet. Pay attention to the section that describes the 3 day hike from Ba Kalalan to Bario as "mostly gentle terrain".

It's gentle if you're a Big Foot's virgin cousin Sam or a Wookie or mabe an Avatarian Smurf or are they referred to as Pandorian Smurfs?

But enough of the drama - the Ba Kalalan to Bario trail in the Kelabit Highlands of Sarawak are far from "gentle" if you're a city slicker with basic fitness who is not used to carrying a minimum 10kg pack for up to 8 hours a day. This information is deceiving because "gentle" is the same territory as "pleasant" which was the key word used by Langkau to described the trail to me last year.

But Langkau spends his time in the jungles making sweet love to a Chap Ah Pek bottle with his Penan friends, the sexy poster boys for tree huggers the world over. He loves the jungle and it grows on him like a second skin.

His point of references are not for us normal folk who need to walk on two feet. OK, lets get real, Langkau's fitness is still MUCH higher than mine which is limited to a weekly training regiment of one 2hour futsal session on Monday and a one hour frolic in the Gasing Hills over the weekend. Therefore "gentle" and "pleasant" to him means "motherfrodo" in my language.

BUT, Langkau is a respected voice internationally and many seek his advice and wise words.

SO, when Lonely Planet writer Daniel Robinson asked Langkau about the trail (Mr Robinson never really did the trail), Langkau told him to ask the locals of Bario.

Thats like asking the Devil if it's OK to wear a sweater in Hell.

The locals of Bario and the surrounding highlands live the moutains. Going to the grocer means trekking (with a bufffalo) at least 2 days to the nearest store. Getting steaks for a BBQ means a 3-7 day hunting trip for wild boar in the jungles.

So, yes. I can say that I would like to correct Lonely Planet by saying the Ba Kalalan to Bario Trail is not really "gentle". It's CHALLEGING. Go HERE for my pouty bitchy account.

And to future Lonely Planet writers, Langkau IS and ALWAYS will be the heart and soul of Sarawak. And he's definitely one of the foremost and most knowledgable persons about the state. However it's best to remember that he's not quite human and also to get to him before Sarawakian happy hours begin.

KL City

2011-08-25T16:57:00.004+08:00

Picture taken from the KL Tower

Where we drive like blind bastards on steroids and ecstasy, where you can pay off a cop with t-shirts and 20 bucks, where rats rummage within inches of the best food in town, where the glorious golden sunrise bathes our traffic snarled up highways and sunsets rewind that scene all over again, unless its one of those haze veiled evenings where we blame the Indonesians every August for burning their forests. In KL City where the guys are preppy and the girls are pretty (at least in the suburbs), where hot good food waits eagerly to jump into our clubbing hungering stomachs 24 hours a day, where the trees and hills of the countrysides are just minutes away from concrete and tarmac, where sometimes the politicians don't reach us with their tentacles as we're defended by well read pseudo literati sponsored by the Opposition, where our shops spread their fake pirate wares unabashedly devoid of fear from intellectual property lawyers, where we sleep, as the night falls, knowing that the city outside buzzes, whispers, hums, and occasionally after the bars close, screeches and crashes against concrete, trees and rails.

Kuala Lumpur, the Muddy Bank, filthy, dirty, polluted, delicious, cheap, real and unreal, corrupted and optimistic and forever dreaming, young feet on old muscles, walking, running, crawling into a future, fiercely fighting between a zombie holocaust and a hippie Smurf colony.

Singapore's CurryGate

2011-08-25T08:31:00.001+08:00

That's what you get when you start to trade in your citizens for foreign man power.

Governments are arrogant and always use the citizens for their own agenda but I've never seen any country in the world where the government is encouraging an almost 100% increase in citizenship by giving citizenship to folks from all around the world especially from China.

Singaporeans are now second class citizen in their own country and when a rude, obnoxious Chinese national (is there any other kind?) wins the right to control curry cooking in your own home, someone gonna get hurt real soon.

Go HERE for the details.

Marvel Minimalist Posters

2011-08-22T15:21:00.005+08:00

Seeing as I've been totally devoid of a creative writing spark I thought I'd kick start (hopefully) blog posts with inspirations on simplicity that speaks to our inner geek. Although I am pretty sure the Silver Surfer is actually The Cosmic Dildo of Doom.

Thanksf to Ariel Spock for the heads up! :)

For more of these retro looking coolness go HERE.

Jimbaran, Bali

2011-08-12T15:09:00.000+08:00

Yes, the pictures are blur.... -_-

The Girlfriend of Chindi with the lighted airport and Kuta in the background

What's the appeal of this must experience for many in Bali? The seafood is not bad (depending on which of the many many beach front huts that serve them) but what else?

Its the chance of dining on a beach as the sun sets (okok the sunset is too early around 6pm) but Jimbaran dinners can be an enchanting affair where literally you can be eating a grilled fish on a beach with hundreds of table lights spread along an almost 3 km beach, twinkling yellow little stars in the darkness of the night as the sounds of the surf crash gently against the soft Balinese sand.

You eat and drink cold Bintang beers as airplanes land nearby at the Denpasar airport, as they make their numerous approaches from the horizon brightens up the dark sky with pin points of brave twinkling lights that light up the dark, dark western sky of the Indian Ocean.

Soft murmurs break the song of the waves, children laugh and play closer to the sea, the hissing gush of hot steam from the dude selling fresh buttered corn is a constant reminder that you can nibble on a cob as you walk along the beach after dinner.

Lighted sparklers or toys fly out into the night sky as children throw them about with abandon. The delighted sound of childrens laughter chase the toys as they swirl and dip in the air before making soft landings on the sandy beach. Just next door the Javanese minstrels gently croon 'La Bamba' as they seek out alms for their efforts.

Of course you hit Jimbaran for dinner. The prices are decent and the food is edible. Its only about 30-40 minutes from Kuta depending on traffic and what else is there to do in the night before you hit the bars to pick up surfers, beach boys, Japanese tourists, Australian hippies, the models in the chic clubs and the gay lords in the loud dance clubs?

Some of the restaurants can build a stage for companies who wish to have full fledged karoake session but Jimbaran is best experienced with private intimate company or the close camaraderie of good friends. (makes splitting the bill much easier...)

The town of Kuta lights up the horizon.

Lotsa lights momma, so many lights...

Quotes from Around the Region...

2011-08-09T08:28:00.000+08:00

"Why are you bringing sand to the beach?" - specifically addressed by men to men who bring wives/girlfriends to Bangkok, Jakarta and Manila. - American man who asked me this when I brought the Girlfriend of Chindi to Bangkok

"Lei cho chor yat, ngo cho sap ng" - Time to move to another country when you hear a Chinese dude (or woman) say this to you, literal translation "you do something to me on the first of the month, I'll get back at you by the 15th", referencing the major prayer dates in the monthly chinese calendar. Nothing scarier after you hear two women use it in front of you - Ariel Spock, remind me never to cross you!

"Hope I dont die in Bali, no one will carry my casket even if i pay them." - Balinese man referencing the strong customs in Bali where one has to fulfill the customs and almost daily rituals and functions to gods and village neighbors of the land in order to be given a full Balinese funeral. As he is based in Jakarta, he has not been fulfilling these duties in his village of Bali which in a way leaves him an outcast.

"Fuck its too expensive to own a car here man. In Malaysia even your dog can buy a car!" - A Filipino friend who just moved to Singapore.

"Hi, do you mind if we postpone our conference call, I'm can't get back to the office because of the really bad traffic." - a nonchalant call from Manila in Philippines at the very moment a tropical typhoon was batterring the country leaving some dead and the streets of Manila flooded.

Danau Beratan, Bali

2011-08-01T08:02:00.000+08:00

About and hour and half from Ubud or about 2 hours from Kuta (all depending on the traffic along the narrow Balinese roads) snuggled between mountains is Danau Beratan in the highland district of Bedegul. Its a nice place if you're on your way from the Northern town of Lovina to Ubud or Kuta or vice versa. The cold highland weather is great for having that hot coffee by the calm lake shore. But is it worth the drive just for this? Def not as you would get a more specatular scenery at Kintamani.

So what do you do when you make a stopover? Rent a boat to take a 15 minute wiz around the lake - it costs RP100,0000.00 about RM40 bucks or USD12 for 4-5 people. It's not unpleasant. And for an additional RP15,000 the merceneary boatman will let you disembark at the lake side villas across the jetty (About USD150 per night) to let you walk around their grounds.

The ticket counter to purchase the boat ride tickets.

The wake of our boat as it leaves the jetty. The evening sun was wrestling to get through the thick mists that was begining to envelop the lake.

The mist covered temple at the lake.

One of the few fishermen we saw on the lake.

The villas across the lake from the jetty. On this stark grey cold evening it looked like the setting for the next Michael Myers flick.

The small row of little wooden shop lots where you can get insant hot soup noodles, coffee and other basic snacks. Sorry that the boat is more in focus - i am drawn to colorful things...

The sun valiantly peeking through the clouds as our boat headed back to the jetty.

The sky breaks through a little before the evening mists took over within minutes.

Its an OK stopover if you're already on the road. Bedugul town itself offers many cycling trails that will take you down to Ubud and even Denpasar (about 10-12 hours) and many Balinese locals do mountain bike these trails on weekends (they rent vans that drive them up to Bedegul and cycle down to the towns.

Getting to Danau Beratan in time for sun rises and sun sets would be a good for photographers but the mists would mess with your light. But fuck that right. Fortune favors the brave and the patient.

Bali Random Shots

2011-07-29T11:17:00.010+08:00

Panjors at Kuta Beach in the early morning.

Fishing boats at Kuta beach - mainly in use to ferry holiday makers around and to take surfers further out to sea if the waves are too tame closer to shore.

A Save The Bali Turtles monument along Kuta Beach - use it to threaten misbehaving kids that they the giant turtle will eat them in their dreams.

My early morning breakfast of hot nasi padang and Nescafe by the beach.

Yes, I was also fielding calls from the office....

The interior of the Lotus restaurant in Ubud - the deceiving entrance hides the lotus pool and the private family temple inside.

Early morning offerings to the main guardians/ gods

Landscaping at the Lotus restaurant in Ubud.

A Dirty Duck from where else Bebek Bengil in Ubud.

Rice fields along the drive to the highlands of Bedegul

A hungry mutt with young devotees at the main temple in Ubud.

Tanah Lot, Bali

2011-07-28T22:09:00.005+08:00

Tanah Lot is just one of those stops that all need to do in Bali. Is it a must see? Depends what does it for you. THis is the first time I've been here after almost 3 years of exploring the island as there wasnt any real thrill to make it a must see. But I wrestle bears before breakfast. Photographers i guess should head out here. Lover's who want to take dramatic pictures standing on volcanic rocks should pay this place a visit too. Little old ladies who want to pray for their wayward punkass 21 year old grand children also.

It a bit anti climatic and as is the norm in Bali they've set up an entire shopping market in the area leading up to the beach. The market of course comes with the normal tourist trappings like "take a picture with a python" or some wood carvings and cheap Bintang Beer t-shirts.

Its about an hour's drive from Kuta depending on the traffic on the narrow Balinese roads. It's still an important temple to the Balinese and prayers are still held here. If timing is right you'll prob catch a Balinese families prayer procession at the temple around low tide.

Nice place to take your mum or aunties or just to take in the sights of loud tourists cam whoring on volcanic rocks as waves break nosily upon them (the rocks not the tourists...)

By pool in Bali...

2011-07-25T09:42:00.002+08:00

... working on a proposal, looking like a constipated monkey. Now I know what its like to be on the other end of the squnting, laptop tapping moron that annoys me at every Starbucks i go to, meaning i dont give a fuck but slightly annoyed by the bemused looks from the merry holiday makers who have nothing on their mind but the sun, sea, surf, sex and Slippery Nipples.

RIP Amy Winehouse

2011-07-24T12:17:00.002+08:00

What do you say when the inner demons win over the will for change?

Reminds me of that Roscharch line from Watchmen when confronted with the need for change for the greater good, between sacrificing his own principles or death - "never. even in the face of armageddon, never."

Lokon Erupting

2011-07-21T09:45:00.002+08:00

Lokon, in Manado, North Sulawesi last week.

A more peaceful Lokon in the rays of the dawn sun.

The pic taken from the dormant Mahawu volcano on my trip there in 2009

I visited Manado about 2 years ago. I read recently that the Lokon volcano that I had hiked up had erupted last week. - Go HERE for footage. It's surreal when you have the memories of an easy morning hike up a sleeping volcano jarred in one's mind when you see the footage of a slowly wakening giant of lava and fire.

These are more peaceful pictures i took on my one hour trek up the old lava trail from the village of Tomohon up to Lokon. Even on that trip the volcano was active but not erupting.

A picture of the steaming crater with boiling water inside. The smell of sulphur is strong in the air.

Dharma and my guide Antje against the back drop of the rising steam cloud from the crater.

My old post of the hike up Lokon is HERE.

Stupid Kids

2011-07-19T21:10:00.003+08:00

Do you find teenagers these days to be lacking in brain matter? I am politely trying to say here that generally in my contact with punks below the age of 24, i have found them to be nothing short of stupid - the careless driving, the COMPLETE AND UTTER lack of common sense and a sense of responsibility. That and their own narrow minded sense of drama stemming from a sheltered life.

Wait. Its actually mostly the boys. (not to say the girls aren't turning out into little divas)

Seriously I've been hiring and firing staff, having contact with the fucktards from other companies and even close observations from the student residents in my apartment block and that's the fact that i have come to. Fact because i've been voicing out my gentle observations of the utter hopelessness of punk world to my friends who've had the same problem hiring good work these days. Kids just dont seem to have the drive.

What are our colleges vomitting out? Are they brain fucking these fuckwits with Barney's Guide to the Teletubby Alphabet in their college years?

What I think is that years of pamperring by baby boomer parents have left the boys a spoilt bunch of emo punks and the girls surprisingly getting more independent and resourceful (this is for the urban demographic). While the 'heartland's education system is geared towards creating an utopian Smurf society in Batang Berjuntai.

Tell me I am wrong.

Tell me you women who date men below 33 dont find them a bunch of whiny, insecure bitches?

How can i get good help? Where do I find them? Seremban? Endor? Gotham City

Liquid Gold

2011-07-17T22:10:00.002+08:00

The morning sun turns the ocean gold as we look for dolphins off the coast of Lovina in northern Bali. A cold breeze, sea spray in your face and the smell of the sea all about you. No other better way to start the day.

Amed, Bali

2011-07-13T23:30:00.001+08:00

View of a part of Amed with the Agung volcano in the background

I was supposed to put up this post back in 2008 when i did my mini road trip from Kintamani to Amed/Lovina/Ubud but somehow it got lost in my cache. I thought I'd put this up just to serve up a reminder that Bali is more than the Kuta's, Ubuds and romantic cliffside weddings (and also to you women who say its a girls spa holiday when we know its a surfer boy kinda experiece - its OK ladies, the 21st century says you can play by boy rules. no need to be shy about it)

I had hit Amed the day after i had stupidly climbed the Batur Volcano AND after coming down and feeling bored did the 3 hour trek around the Batur Lake caldera the same day. Which effectively meant that anything below my waist was a knotted up shitpile of pain. And yes, using a squat toilet was out of the question. I hit this little hotel almost at the end of town and just chilled out having beers by the beach. As the evening hit i decided to walk around the town and started to walk south along the main road.

Amed, is a cosy little town in the North East of Bali. It might take about 2-3 hours from Denpasar by those little mini vans that are available. It's a great place to just chill, the snorkelling is great. Nothing pretentious about it. You come here for a quite time to chill by the beach, eat at the little cosy cafes and take some boats out for snorkeling and some diving - there are some wreck diving sites nearby.

Padi fields on hillsides on the approach to the town of Amed

I head South as the sun shone brightly and hit the edge of the town. I saw some other buldings in the distance and figured I’d try to walk off the stiffness by heading to the other set of buildings and treating myself to a cold happy hour beer. The ocean on my left is now sparkling in the sunlight and the road I am on hugs the coastline. Somewhat dry shrubbery crops close to the ground offering me no reprieve from the sunlight but the strong wind keeps the mood chipper. I turn a bend and I am greeted by a chic white building beside the road on my right, overlooking the ocean from a vantage point. I can see from the road that it’s elevated dining area has a great almost 180 degree view of the ocean. Fuck this, beers call out to me from the restaurant fridge, and I climb up the steps to Sails, the restaurant in Amed. Its all white deco and simplicity is charming but more so it’s view of the ocean which is lovely and quite breathtaking.

My beer arrives and I settle down contented. I am happy.

My second beer arrives and I look out onto the ocean that is taking a deeper blue with the slowly setting sun. I see a single gull like fisherman’s boat speeding south on the wings of the evening wind. Then another, and another and another! Suddenly my entire horizon is filled by colorful little boats speeding in the same direction south, jumping, skipping on the waves as I look on it amazement. I count out to about 40 plus.

My waiter tells me it’s the fishermen, some going out and some going to pick up divers. Its an amazing sight but not as awesome as the sight that I witnessed at dawn the next day.

After a couple more beers I head back – I would say the best time to appreciate Sails is during the day or with light. At night you’re just surrounded by the darkness of the ocean bar possibly the lights from some boats out at night.

After a quick shower I head out to look for dinner and came across one of the many little restaurants in Amed that had a live band. The sea food was nice in a simple sort of way and the singer was doing Bob Marley and retro rock songs – a staple of what every surf town seems to like. From my conversations with the owner there is only one or two bands in town and they take turns singing in various outlets throughout the week. I chat with an English couple who were comparing Amed to Lovina and preferring the simplicity and small town feel of Amed to it’s northern neighbor which I agree totally – Lovina had nothing to offer except frantic dolphin chasing.

I wake early the next morning. I wanted to have coffee by the Indian Ocean and watch the day break with a hot cuppa. Camera in hand I wandered out onto the beach. The sky was now an explosion of gold, doubly reflected in the sea as the cool morning wind gusted in.

There were already some people on the beach and were looking out into the ocean. I look out, something’s not quite right in the horizon. I squint against the rays of sunshine and realize that the ENTIRE horizon is dotted with tiny specks. I squint harder and realize they’re the same fishing boats from yesterday except now they range in the hundreds! And they’re all coming back to the beach after an early morning of fishing. Its exhilarating as you see the tiny specks grow into defined outlines of the boats as they race each other back. It’s amazing sight and I curse myself for not having a wide angle lense. I took some pictures with an old film camera but I can’t seem to find them now after all these years. If I do I will put them up here though.

The boats now hit the beach and the fishermen immediately take out their wares and display them on the beach for sale. Traders, restaurants, even some tourists gather around to buy the bounty from the ocean. I look on a little and realize that I haven’t had that coffee yet. My stomach rumbles a little. Too many beers the night before demands food in the morning after.

I guess this is my memory of Amed – no frills, a mixture of chicness only because I stumbled upon someone’s good taste in a restaurant design and location and the unexpected glorious sight of the fishermen of Amed in full flight across the ocean at dusk and dawn. Would I go back a second time ? Probably not, as I prefer the lakeside of Batur for my solitude but I would head back to Amed just to share this experience with others who are like minded and appreciate the little things in life.

Statues in Amed

Black volcanic sandy beaches

One of the sea gull like outrigger fishing boats

View from Sails restaurant (picture courtesy of Sails Facebook page)

For more on Sails go HERE.

An Ambassador, An Astronaut and Aze

2011-07-09T23:51:00.006+08:00

I just got back from Manila and it was just one of those days when i spent within the space of 2 hours in the company of the Malaysian ambassador to the Philippines, Dato Sri Dr. Ibrahim Saad, our um... Malaysian aaaahhh.... siiiiiiiiiiigh Astronaut Dr Sheikh whatsisname while ending the night with wine at a chic restaurant in the company of model and FHM cover girl Aze Sasaki.

Sometimes, just SOMETIMES i find myself in situations other than alcohol fuelled acts of unintentional stupidity. I didn't take pictures though as i am not really a fan of politics or government funded space tourism and also thought it wouldn't be cool to shove an blackberry in front of a model who was enjoying dinner after a long day at a shoot.

I had hit Manila for a press conference and was invited to a function at the Malaysian embassy. I know his excellency Dato Sri Ibrahim from his days as the Secretary General of the Football Association of Malaysia and decided to drop by (and grab some dinner) as he was hosting a special function for our... siiiigh Malaysian astronaut Doc Sheikh who they were marketing as the first man from South East Asia in space (although i think there was a Vietnamese dude who made that trip in the '80s).

The Malaysian Astronaut - a doctor, model and a space adventurer. I am waiting for the action figures... -_-

It was a typical rah rah do with the astro... wait, we can't call him an astronaut as the Americans refused to take him up. Oh yeah since he went up on a Ruskie Rocket he's billed as a cosmonaut. Anyway they showed some videos and the Doc related some of his experiences in space, made some "no you can't teh tarik in space" references and ended with some rah rah 'you can do anything' chase your dreams shpeal. Got to say the dude cut a sharp figure in his dark open collared suit. I disappointed many a swooning Filipina when I hinted he may not be into the XX gene type when one of them explained," is that why he's here when his wife is going to give birth anytime soon at home?"

This is where i excused myself to look for more capatis.

I briefly caught up with his Excellency Dato Sri doc Ibrahim and he was his usual boyish exuberant lepak self. We chatted a while and exchanged numbers and we'll prob catch up the next time i hit Manila.

I had to rush off to another function with clients at Chef Laudico's Bistro at Bonifacio Global City. I arrived late and dinner was in full service. There were a bunch of advertising guys and creative sorts and i just stuck to the wine as my now capati bloated stomach was in a bitchy mood considering that Chef Ladico's had some really great dishes and my stomach store was all quota-ed up.

Suddenly the door opens behind me and some commotion came up, i dont bother but the guys behind me are staring at the top of my head. I turn back and this insanely tall woman with cheek bones about 10 stories high was shaking hands with some of the members of our group.

"Hi, !" she smiled and sat next to me, the only spare chair at the table.

I think i mumble something vague. But pretty soon we start chatting and I just got to say this woman was smart, strong, independent and a no bull shit taker. Aze Sasaki, a 5' 8" (excluding the extra 4" boots she had on) is a lean athletic mixture of Filipino, Spanish and Japanese. She's a model and a regular in FHM and was featured last March in FHM Russia as well. We talk shop and she tells me how Brazilian girls are taking some of the business from the local models in Manila. etc etc.

I felt she looked better without a gay stylist infected make-up but here, check out some of the pics of her from FHM:

This second pic was picked by the Girlfriend of Chindy as she taught Aze looked hot here.

Yeah, she has nice cheek bones yes?

I went home sober, chatted online with the Girlfriend of Chindy and slept soundly like a baby.

How else do you sleep after meeting an ambassador, an astro... COSmonaut and a hot model AND manage to get home sober? yeah, i AM getting old...

Randomness from another airport

2011-06-27T10:26:00.002+08:00

Stardate : Today. Now. The very here and now the words tumble from my mind to these fingers.

Place : SIngapore Changi Airport, Terminal One. The public lounge area.

Singapore is a picture of utopian, clinical precision. Malaysia will never be this. Cincai dont work in this city state.

The dude in the coffee bean just in front of me has a bread crumb or flake the size of a hobbit's foot on his left lip. How can't he feel it? its distracting. I mean its flapping there as he chews his croissant. Come man, lick it, flick it off....

A young mother and her baby walk pasts and she's bored. She checks me out because I'm cute yet grumpy. She wonders what mysteries lie behind my hazelnut brown eyes. I need coffee.....

I have booked a trip to Bali at the endo of July. ANother attempt to climb the Agung volcano. Expect more accounts of pain and stupidity from me soon. Another bout of stupidity has seen me sign up for Kilimanjaro in October.

I think I may be developing female tendencies - i realized that i have about 15 pairs of shoes at home - mainly its for differing sports but still - 15. only gay men reach this stratospheric footwear ownership. wait let me break it up - i each for football and futsal, two hiking boots, 3 trail running shoes (WTF...), one Timberland, and about 7 pairs of Nikes which about 4 were sponsored. Oh and one pair of shoes for official work. Am I gay yet?

I've finished Fables to TP 15 - Willingham's losing momentum. Reminds me of Gaiman whose now just a reteller of his old tales but a great marketeer nontheless and only claim Sandman as his his peak.

I should get back to writing. Hope the blank space in my mind is not due to my sudden addiction to Bubble Paradise on facebook.....

Lovina, North Bali

2011-06-23T09:03:00.000+08:00

An old post on Lovina town in Bali for The Baggins as you're too lazy to search for it. The original post was done sometime mid 2008.

It was beautiful. The glorious early morning sun peeked over the mountains in the East and bathed the ocean in gold. We had set out to see the dolphins at 6am and sure enough there they were, frolicking in the ocean, leaping out spectacularly to the delight of tourists and grizzled fishermen alike. We sighed, laughed and cheered at nature's children who reached out to us playfully and made us feel one with the ocean and the world.

One dolphin with a "I Heart Vader" tattoo swam up to me and passed me an ice cold Heineken. "I hope you are having a good time Mr. Chindy and please don't hesitate to call me if you may need other beer", it said, as it winked at me and swam back to it's brethren.

Yep, that's what happened. Really. Seriously. Cross my heart and ......

SIGH.....

Brochures are misleading. That's why I don't believe anything I read. Instead of the mental image of happy dolphins swimming tamely around the boats what we had was a flotilla of outrigger dug out boats CHASING the poor buggers all across the ocean. After an hour of criss crossing the bay we finally saw dolphins in the distance and all the boats rushed over to them. It was like a hunting party and no one likes to be hunted. No observing from a respectful distance, the moonlighting fishermen would gun their engines and speed towards them every time a group was spotted. It was about an hour in the sea before we spotted them and the chasing went on for another 30 minutes. We actually ended up in the town of Singarajah after we decided to call it a day. After a while I just said to myself "Fuk it to hell and just enjoy the ride". I was sitting in front and the spray was all over me as the little boat bounced across the waves as our fisherman guide tried to give us paying dumb ass tourists the best photo op of the elusive mammals.

The only why to truly enjoy this "experience" is to get high on some weed, down a couple of cold Bintang beers, strap yourself in with like minded clowns and set forth into the ocean with a CD of The Best of Culture Club blaring over water proof speakers. Maybe then the dolphins might swim up for a morning chat...

We actually saw a whale. For about 5 seconds before it disappeared under the ocean. No time for a picture but it was huge and black ( factor in the sun in my eyes). Guess it counts for something...

The floating restaurants at Pantai Penimbangan in the town of Singahraja. It's about 15 minutes before Lovina. Great place for lunch. We stopped here for lunch before going on to Lovina.

We left the town of Amed in the early morning and drove along the northern coastal road till we reached Lovina Beach. The scenery along the way was like a spaghetti western with a dry and parched country side with valiant efforts of farmers trying to grow their crops in the dry season. Large rivers and canals were stone dry and dust was in the air. The drive from Amed to Lovina took about 3 hours as we stopped at some stalls along the road that had nice views of the Pacific Ocean.

One of 2 mermaids at Pantai Penimbangan. I thought she looked kind of sweet. Yeah, too long in the mountain and statues were starting to turn me on.....

Having a late tea/early dinner as the sun set.

The beaches at Lovina do not look particularly inviting as besides the black volcanic sand, it's dirty. Not so much from garbage but from the deposits from the ocean. As Lovina is closer to straits of Java it sees a lot more gunk from the ocean such as leaves, shrubs, broken corals, pieces of bark, etc. and it's all washed onto the beaches. It really isn't very inviting. Most of the folks like to snorkel but from what I saw snorkeling in Amed would be a lot better. There is nothing really much about Lovina and everything hinges on the dolphin viewing excursions. The town is larger than Amed so does not have that quaint small town feel to it and the beaches leave a lot to be desired.

My only clear shot of the dolphins.

Eating Hall in Bunyalit Cottages.

Chindy Gets A Man Massage.

I was in all sorts of pain from the Batur and caldera hikes when I reached Lovina. I asked Pak Nyoman, my driver, to recommend a good local massage therapist who would sort out my aching thighs, knees and back. We hit Lovina and he got a relative of his to call someone to come over to my room to sort me out.

The room was OK so I switched on the sports channel, had a ice cold Coke and sat back, expecting a kindly 'mak cik' to come in with some exotic oils and to massage my pains away. After a while i heard a knock on the door, opened it and in front of me stood a cross between an Orc and a Navy SEAL.

"Pak Kuhan?" asked the stocky chap in front of me.

"Oh fuck, this is gonna hurt..."

So the bottom line was he was a tukang urut urat, a tendon/ligament therapist. NOT a massage therapist. And it hurt. It hurt like a raw arse on fire. He grabbed and pulled and tweaked and kneaded every tendon and ligament with his strong stubby fingers. He pulled my body, contorted it and played my muscles like guitar strings. All the while trying to tell me about the next mountain I should hike somewhere in Java that was beautiful and gorgeous with boyish exuberance.

He grabbed my nose and pinched it HARD. He pincered my earlobes till I HEARD THEM SQUEAK and when he put me in what looked like The Iron Sheikh's Camel Clutch submission hold, I thought this is it, the dude's gonna snap my neck and I'll never fulfill my fantasy of having sex on a conference room table. What happened after that was my whole body went "click" and,

and....

it. was. FANTASTIC. It was like all my cogs were realigned again. I slept like a baby after! The pain on my legs was 90% gone by the next day so it was cool.

I highly recommend being man massaged. Really.

Brain Blocked

2011-06-14T08:01:00.002+08:00

Its been a week and its another week where i am totally uninspired to fill this blog with words either bitchy, grumpy or moronic.

I am now in Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam and work is packing up. Cross Roads beckon. Time of change looms ahead.

I've been ignoring the latest trade paperback of the Fable's comic series and basically ignored all reading material where engagement of creativity and fantasy are required. The Mind of Me is now now caught in the reality that what's real isn't what's right. This is the world of today. I can get paid good money to agree with men of money. all I will be doing is just ignoring the good and oversee a downward spiral. But as a good friend of mine just couselled me - "its their money". I've been paid before just to agree with these men of money. I resigned after a month as it was wrong and they would lose money and one dude would at least lose his job. I was a consultant then. Since then i've found out that its easier to just agree with these men of power and try to sort out the mess later.

Agreement doesn't mean acceptance of course.

Do the right thing and sleep like a baby?

Or suck corporate Big Money's Balls and rise up ladders with the Big Boys?

Yeah...

The Obedient Wives Club? WTF?

2011-06-06T16:22:00.002+08:00

Who are these people? How come they are not shamed into throwing themselves onto sharpened spears and to be eaten alive by ravenous musang?

"to teach a woman to satisfy a man better than a Grade A prostitue?" just to build a better relationship? (For those of you travelling or out of the coutry like me go HERE for the 'entertainment')

We've got Ibrahim Ali and that Bung feller taking the country into a bad episode of Benny Hill and now this.

Now if we really are to convince the world that we're equal opportunity facilitators of nurturing relationships, someone needs to start up the Sexathor School of Loving for Men - just so's the women folk get enjoy the feeling of being satisfied by a Grade A male hooker.

Its the least we can do...

Sisik - Eating Faces

2011-06-01T12:07:00.005+08:00

Well this was a new discovery. I've been eating this dish the past few times i was in the Philippines. I normally get in at about 1130am at Clark Field airport and have meetings in Manila almost within that 2 hours it needs to make that drive. I normally stop along the way at Ramon's along the highway for a quick lunch.

I normally get the Sisik dish as it tasted not bad and it went well with rice. Only on Monday did I find out that the Sisik dish is actually made up of diced and finely chopped parts of a pigs face. I just though it was a slightly weirdly tasting pork dish on a hot plate.

Now the question is knowing that would most non Filipinos order that? I wouldnt mind, its a little salty but its cooked with vinegar and oyster sauce ( i think) and its great with beer although it does tend to be a tad oily.

Cooked any other way i wouldnt want to eat the face of a dead pig though.

Busted Back

2011-05-24T08:53:00.004+08:00

Back hurts.

Pain bad.

In Office. Somehow managed to get to work early.

How do I get home?

How to drive to see doc?

How did i even put on my pants this morning?

Updated: 1243pm - am sitting in Master Wong the popular Chinese sinsei in SS2. Its been an hour and half with another 90 minures before my turn. The pain makes the walk back to my car unappealing. Hve so far read The Star paper, a chinese paper and a 2009 edition of Women's Weekly (Sandra bullock looks hot with all that makeup). Had a business call from the prawn noodle joint next door. Took me 5 minutes to cover. 20 second walk. I need a beer...

Updated II, 7.46pm - sitting home. it was/is a partial slip disc. The sifu doc says he's put it back in and should be better in 24 hours. Longest walk ever back to my car - took me 15 minutes to cover less than 100meters.

If this pain is partial slip disc then i think having a REAL occurence must be like given birth to a Godzilla sized porcupine.

On a lighter note. THings you over hear in a waiting room:

1. "what to do. these things don't happen to good Christians" - Two old Chinese aunties talking to each other.

2. "Ya we are sorry, in Malaysia it's OK to cut cue." - another elderly aunty telling an old English man who was also seeking treatment.

3. "Why do all Chinese medicine smell like bak kut teh?" - old English dude asking a Chinese man sitting nearby.

Adios Macho. RIP,

2011-05-21T10:03:00.002+08:00

Macho Man Randy Savage passed on. When I read that i thought it was the start of 2011's annual death train for retired wrestlers who every year kick the bucket as their past of steroid abuse and other excesses catch up with them. (excluding Edge's retirement from injury)

Later reading reports it was clarified that he died as a result from injuries from a car accident BUT further reading hinted it was at least reported from one source he suffered a heart attack while driving. Not confirmed though. The heart attacks are the revenge bitch of all those pill popping stimulants these monsters consumed daily.

Anyway, Macho annoyed me as a character until the Lovely Miss Elizabeth started hanging around him as his manager. Later the whole drama with Hogan ran it's course and Macho started to grow on me as a flashy motherfucker who was also a tough SOB (not a baddass SOB like Austin).

I have an old Macho King action figure from the old Habro days hanging in my study - old toys from favourite characters - Macho, Superfly Jimmy Snuka, that idiot Warrior (hey i was young back in the day), even Brutus the Barber and the Undertaker. A child's playthings that keep the manufactured innocence of bulked up characters long after they've passed on because of those very substances that grew them to super hero proportions.

RIP Macho. Hope you and Miss Elizabeth find each other in that 'rasslin arena in the sky.

Spider Senses and Disturbances in the Force

2011-05-17T09:13:00.004+08:00

Dear Sir,

I hope you are well since I thanked you for your last warning (well last warning i HEARD) to me. Allow me a short introduction in my note to you.

Ahem...

A gut feeling, hair standing on end, a gentle voice in the recesses of your mind all some unexplained fact that does act as our internal alarm systems which we hardly pay heed to. Maybe we're hard wired to the planet's quick heartbeat, maybe THERE IS a Force, that surrounds us, permeates us and allows us to to feel 6 years old anytime we hold a plastic light saber in our hands.

Every once in a while I am reminded by incidences that I MUST listen to internal warnings but its always something that we brush aside - it can be anything from taking a car to drive out on a rainy night to even accepting/not accepting a job offer at the Playboy Mansion.

Last December on my trip to Sarawak, there were two incidences that highlighted to me that i better pay more attention to my inner Jedi.

The picture above seems pleasant enough. That section is along the road that leads out of Miri town to the top of a hill that overlooks the countryside. Bored in the little town i had taken a walk up that hill. As the road was busy this welcome stretch of green,well cropped grass seemed to siren song me to move over to its safety and away from the impatient drivers on the little narrow road.

As i stepped on the grass, there seemed to me a buzzing in my head and i seemed to have one of those baaaaaad feelings hitting my train of thought. It was a lovely day, i took out my camera and took the photo that you see up there and continued walking. I really wasn't paying much attention when just a ahead about 20 feet in front of me i saw a long shadow slowly starting to glide towards the brush on my left. As the distinctive head came up briefly i realised that if that cobra had continued sunning itself, my path would have taken me directly across its position.

About 6 days later, when we were on the final leg of the Ba Kalalan to Bario trail, some where after Pa Lungan, just after a swampy crossing and i found myself ahead of the group, I was trying to navigate around some tangle of weeds, vines, branches and shrubs that had fallen near the path, the untidy carnage as a result of a broken branch from a tree. With my pack and weary from the long trek i clumsily tried to pick my way through the heap, my trailing leg got caught on a vine and as i stumbled I tried to kick my foot free. Suddenly warning signs went off in my head but it was too late, my foot trashed out but something made me stop, just at that moment the green snake slithered right in front of me into the jungle on my right. It was somewhere on the vine or near the ground where i had kicked up a fuss with my booted foot.

This did it, i waited for it to move into the jungle and waited till i was sure it was away. I checked around the brush around me to make sure there were no more surprises. In a distance I saw Stephen and Tina appear and I carried on walking. No point panicking the rest as the Greens are harmless and it would not be coming back to the path after my noisy presence.

But this did it, 2 incidences with snakes in less than a week. Twice i dint listen to the inner warning bells.

Can you imagine if we all were more in tune with our Jedi/Spider senses? Or even maybe those were the voices of our guardian angels which all little kids have but who leave us when we grow older and start pandering to our yearnings for porn and booze(what, is that the story that only my mum told me?). Maybe my guardian angel still hangs around as i AM mentally in a state of immaturity.

SO...

Dear Sir,...

To my guardian angel, to my inner conscience, to my spider and Jedi senses i would like to apologize for not listening to you. In good faith and good sense you've whispered to me, cajoled me, warned me and encouraged me but only to be greeted with the 'blur like sotong' demeanour of a moron.

I thank you for the unheeded warnings :

1. When I jumped out of that raft in Port Dickson fully knowing i could only swim as well as a pregnant camel (yes i heard you then but i was too young to know better)

2. When i drove out to the doctor in the pouring rain when i was 19 with a burning fever and did not wait just that extra 2 seconds at that corner. Yes, thank goodness that biker only grazed the car and he did not press charges (good to be a state athlete eh sir?)

3. Buying that transvestite at that bar a beer.

4. Attempting to drive home and Not staying over at that friend's place when the absinthe was taking effect

5. Following those morons into that triad owned bar in Mongkok, Hong Kong.

I won't promise that I will now be the epitome of sensitivity to your warnings but I will make an effort to take that extra second or two to pause for thought. Yes sir, I do now accept that a second can make a difference in life.

Yours sincerely,

Chindiana

Ben, Paul and Chindy - A Match Made in Heaven

2011-05-15T21:58:00.003+08:00

About sometime last year i got a call from Ben. Ben Sterling. He said he was calling from an equity fund based in Hong Kong and that they had something that I would be keen on. I was looking at checking out some off shore funds to invest in and asked him to send me some stuff for a friend to look at. He sent in on and my friend said it was nothing special. Ben of course followed up diligently and tried to get me to buy in. Ben was a persistent mother lover. He was also and very obviously a young Filipino from a call center possibly based in Manila.

After that he would call me every 3 weeks even after i bluntly told him i was not interested in his wares. Ben went radio silence for about a month and exactly one week after the Japan tsunami hit I get a call from Ben.

"This is Ben. Ben Sterling Mr Chindi and I'm calling from Japan".... he left the last part hanging waiting for the dramatic effect to sink in.

I lost it.

"Ben Sterling eh?" Are you really Ben Sterling, Ben Sterling? Are you really calling from Tokyo or a call center in Manila? Look, I told you before I am not interested so can you PLEASE BACK OFF!"

"I would like to inform you Mr Chindi that our calls are recorded and that you will be receiving a letter from our Lawyers."

"No problem Ben, but can you put your manager on?"

"And yes you will get a letter from our lawyers for your attitude to me"

"thats cool Ben, now i need to speak to your superior as my lawyers need a contact person to address our legal cease and desist letter to your company. How's the weather in Manila by the way?"

"click".

Mother fucker........

3 weeks ago, Ben Sterling called me again except this time...

"Hello Mr Chindi, my name is Peter Shielding from the UK calling....."

"WHAT? When did you change your name Ben?"

"wha....."

"DUDE the last time you called me you were Ben Sterling!" I AM NOT INTERESTED!"

"Yes and if you have some time sir, my name is Peter Shielding and ...."

"wait i'm driving, i'll pass you to my director..."

I shove the phone to Peekz (yes i was really driving).

the next thing I know, I hear Mango in the back seat say a hesitant "hello?" - Peekz had off loaded the phone like a hot potato.

"Um boss... as Mango hands me the phone..

"what happened?"

"um.. i'm not sure. he asked me who i am and then he told me to fuck off and he hung up."

Ben and Peter. Psychologically very English names but belonging to a very Filipino young man. My number is on their database and I think they will refuse to take me off. I do love these games and its just a sign of the times. Where the world is just a click away and even an annoying pest thousands of miles away can get in your face at the click of a mouse or the allocation of numbers from a random database.

The world's bull shit just got a lot closer to home...

Sunday Storm

2011-05-10T08:12:00.002+08:00

So the storm hit Manila Sunday. The cloudy overcast sky caught me off guard especially with the searing heat from Friday and Saturday. Actually the winds only picked up towards the evening but as Pacquiao had Mosley on the run in Vegas, Filipinos were celebrating the eventual victory in lovely windy noon day weather.

Latest reports put the deaths from 9-11 people (report HERE) but from my hotel room it was one of those 'moments'.

This time around I was on the 20th floor of the New World Renaissance Hotel in Makati, my view overlooking the city and the ocean just peeping near the horizon. When i get a room this high up I almost almost work in the dark or just chill with a beer and watch TV with the blinds pulled all the way back. In the distance lights shone and twinkled. Headlights from cars raced each other across snaking expressways and flyovers. The trains ran past every once in a while. The huge digital billboard on the lone high rise building in front of me had pictures of a smiling woman which laughed and shone in the almost pitch dark spaces that tried to steal some inches from road lamps, blinking traffic lights, humming porch lights...

Somewhere outside music throbs and pounds. I hear the strong wind beat against my window. I walk to it and before me lays a carpet of lights, everyone with a story to tell.

Some thing's wrong. I try to put a finger to it and suddenly realize all the lights directly in front of me are blinking. They are dancing and twinkling for the 180 degrees directly in front of me. It's am amazing sight that every form of light - street, home, cars were dancing and blinking to the wild songs of a hidden silent musician. I am still staring and trying to figure out what is happening and suddenly realise that the trees, all hidden in the shadows of darkness are dancing wildly in the fierce gusts of wind. As i can't see the trees, the surging and violent shaking of the trees were covering and moving away from lights all across my view. I go back, quickly boil a cup of instant noodles, pull the sofa in front of my window and take a seat to enjoy the show. Behind me the high pitched chatter of some Japanese cartoon on Animax fills the room with the sounds of maniacal combat. Somehow it feels apt.

Its my first contact from the tropical storm. this was of course just the spillover from the actual impact on the northern part of Luzon island and mild compared to the impact that brought landslides and downed power lines. Yes lives were lost, but for that 30 minutes as i sipped hot soupy noodles in a cold hotel room, as a howling wind beat upon my window high up overlooking the city, i was lost in display of an unintentional light show orchestrated by the forces of nature and the creations of man.

Sunday in Manila....

2011-05-08T14:51:00.003+08:00

"Don't tell God you've got a problem. Tell your problem that you have a great God."

- wordings on the yellow Nike T-shirt worn by Manny Pacquiao in this morning's truimph over 'Sugar' Shane Mosley

I'm not that spritual but sometimes simple words can remind you the power of a little faith.

The Day I Set A Priest On Fire.....

2011-05-04T10:17:00.003+08:00

Trust the FON to remind me of my unfortunate exploits in my youth...

I will first state, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.

The story starts here:

I think i was about 10 or 12, and the family was performing our yearly anniversary prayers at the Paul Street Indian temple in Seremban. This is when my grand father would pay for the full service and subsequent food for all attendees. It was his part to give back to the temple and it's devotees.

Somehow on that year the prayers were a little bit more elaborate. Two hours of clanging bells, loud trumpets and throbbing drums was already making a very young and restless Me more agitated and impatient to get home and and get wrapped in the embrace of some Hanna Barbara cartoon.

We're suddenly ushered outside, the entire clan with garlands of flowers, incense and the like. As the eldest (and only) male grandchild I am thrust into the front of the procession. Two priests step up in front of me with more incense and some flowers ( i THINK its flowers. memory is groggy for all things pre - Millineium).

Someone thursts a flaming torch into my hand. The fire is held in a heavy brass holder. I am told to just follow the priests. The torch is heavy in my spindly arms, the flames are too close for comfort and the smoke is getting in my eyes.

Then we're off! We are to circle the temple 3 times while the priests chant to the gods. Every one dressed in white dhottis (is that what its called? any Indian people reading this blog? that white cloth that the men folk use to wrap around their waist like a sarong during prayers).

Round One - I am getting used to it. It's kinda cool having officially being allowed to play with fire. Chest out I begin to get an ego trip, heading up a procession of the family with a flaming beacon of fire.

Round Two - my hands now start to ache. The torch is just too heavy. My eyes are watering and the droning of the priests is now starting to agitate little Me.

Round 3 - I am now gripping the torch hard. Sweat is dripping down my forehead profusely. I start getting bored and look behind me at my uncles, I look to left and right wandering when everything will stop.

It does stop at that point.

I dont see the priests stop as I am busy looking at the cars on the road outside the temple.

and....

...walk flame first into the now stationary ass of the priest in front of me.

After that everything happend so fast. I hear a yelp, voices are shouting, my little head spins to the front and I see the priest leaping around in front of me, with his dhotti clad bum now engulfed in angry orange, yellow, red flames, I am shoved aside roughly, the torch is grabbed from my hand, bodies run to the front to save the priest and I am left there standing alone in the hot crowded temple yard.

I have embarrased my family and i remember my face feeling hot from embarrasement (yes i only used to read that statement in books but its real. trust me).

My mum who loves me as only mother can came up to me after the damage control was done. It was not to bad although I dont know if the priest had any permanent damage to his posterior. She gently told me that I did not need to come to temple anymore for at least a month or two. I am not sure on whose orders it was but it was cool by me. I never could hold my attention during prayers anyway.

Months turned to years. Years turned to decades and here I sit. A misfit at 40, with dodgy principles and a love for that cold beverage a little bit too often. I am sure among all the priests in this country non has ever been set on fire before. So there, you now have a dark secret from Seremban's past.....

Top 10 Stupid Things I have committed

2011-04-30T00:23:00.003+08:00

I started this list on this blog about 3 or 4 years ago. Thought I would try to add on to it to make it a Top 10 instead of the original Top 5.

Original post begins below followed by updates from point 6-10.

This is going to be a first in my Top 5 Lists as a dedication to High Fidelity. This list does not include all the stupid things i've done to injure myself in sports because then it would be the Top 100 List. Here goes:

1. Taking out my contact lense AFTER eating curry flavoured Twisties WITHOUT WASHING MY HANDS.

2. Went with a date to a friend's wedding and THEN going on to pick up a girl i had just started dating (she had made prior plans and i didn't want to go to the wedding alone and very intelligently forgot to tell her i had gone with another woman).

3. Trying to pry open the fake nut on the my plastic hub cap cover when changing a flat tire (the actual nut was under the cover) AND THEN wondering for 5 seconds how did I get so strong when the plastic nut broke off.

4. Leaving the windows in my old rented room open when i went away for a week as i didn't like the musty smell. My room ended up the local Fight Club for the local alley cats - piss, blood and shit all over the place. At least it didn't smell musty.....

5. Trying to attract the attention of a girl by suddenly leaping up in my crowded school canteen and shouting "Fuck Off! Don't touch my curry mee!" (Hey, I was 15...And yes I scared the living shite out of her and thus utter shame and embarrassment ended my fascination with the female species for a good 7 years.)

6. Driving home after by birthday celebrations AFTER sampling 3 wines, at least 5 whiskies, about a barrel of beers, 2 shots of absinthe and a Flaming Lambo. It did not end well.

7. Walking over to the first hottest woman in that bar (after a life of having never attracted even a civil "good morning' from an office colleague) who smiled at me and buying her a drink. Hence forth I have learnt to tell the difference between a transvestite and a real woman.

8. Playing futsal again AFTER twisting my back badly (thus reactivating an old lower back injury) the day before. Note to self - the adrenaline will get you home but will take 20 minutes to just sit up in bed. That half hour drive to the doctor will seem like an eternity and yes, you CAN sweat from pain in an air conditioned car.

9. Jumping out of a raft that had floated out into the open ocean at age 8 or 9, when not knowing how to swim AND forgetting that the ocean gets deeper the further you go in. Note to all - the embarrasment of having an excitable uncle giving you mouth to mouth on a public beach is quite mentally scarring.

10. Drinking local moonshine on a month long hike in the Himalayas while eating at least 9 eggs a day. The pain at 18,000 feet can be interesting and there is such as thing as protein overdose and what will come out of your ass can only be described as a bastard love child of melted baby chicks and The Son of Blob.

Trust me a top 20 is easy enough.

What is This Lady Gaga?

2011-04-25T17:49:00.005+08:00

Is it edible?

What is it's purpose in life?

Why does it dress up as an egg?

Is it only infectious to those who are tone deaf?

Is it a transvestite?

Why is it still around?

Doesn't it turn to dust or diamonds under the bright sun light?

Can it go away?

Please?

Is this me chanelling my inner geriatric Grinch?

Tanjung Sepat, Selangor

2011-04-20T08:29:00.001+08:00

Tanjung Sepat is one of those old rustic villages along Malaysia's trunk roads. Bored, last Sunday I took a drive out to find it. Well not really find it, I sort of knew where it was having passed it years ago when i was on the coastal road from Banting to Bagan Lalang in Sepang. It's just simply a great way to spend a slow Sunday afternoon/evening.

Tg Sepat is essentially a Chinese fishing village - things here are miles away from KL life. A Chinese dude mans the petrol pumps, stray dogs with overused teats stare at you from the side of the roads, old uncles sit under large trees staring out to sea or watching the tv set that someone kindly set up there. I did not have time to wander the whole stretch of the town and will prob take a drive there soon just to explore again. Any volunteers who want to ride shotgun?

There are a few jetties leading out to the ocean, some Chinese temples which look cool and little shops selling sea based preserved produce and snacks - keropok, fish paste, etc. Along the way you'll probably be approached by some elderly ladies selling home made 'pau'.

It's a quaint little place and the wind is cool (probably because of the season). The view of the ocean is lovely as the slender little jetty seems to stretch out to the straits of Malacca, morphing from a solid concrete band to a rickety wooden structure the futher you walk into the ocean. (I will get more pictures of this)

You have to top off the trip with dinner and cold beers at one of the restaurants there. We hit the Ocen Restaurant (nope, no typo there) and the food is great. I actually took the staff there yesterday just to eat some more and so far I can vouch for the deep fried siakap fish, kai lan with salted fish (damn fresh vegs), mantis prawns with salted egg yolk, curry squid, tofu soup, and the 'ochian' with egg of a hot plate. And they have Heineken! Served old skool style with ice in small glasses if you so please.

You'll see a whole bunch of fishermen on the jetty when you get there and it does get busy. Tg Sepat is getting a bit of fame from the promotions from the Selangor state government and you'll now see shutterbugs with their DSLRs pointing at every fisherman, old building, pier and muddy beach.

You dont swim in the waters - its too muddy and its its full of gunk anyway as evidenced by the rubbish on the beach but its great little place to just chill out.

Bella who was co-driver soaking her digits in the Straits of Malacca

With a stomach full of good food and ice cold beers we turn to head back to PJ. A clear full moon lights up the dying embers of dusk as fishermen and young families head home for thei night. One of those perfect little moments.

Getting There : I think its about 80 odd km from PJ. You can reach it either from the KESAS highway (turn off at Banting and look for signs that take you to Morib, Sepang Gold Coast and Bagan Lalang). Tanjung Sepat is in between the towns of Bagan Lalang and Morib.

You can also reach it from KLIA - head towards Nilai town, when you see the F1 circuit on your right, turn right at the next traffic light (also look for signs that say Sepang Gold Coast or Bagan Lalang. Tg Sepat is about 15 to 20 minutes from Bagan Lalang.

It takes an average 90 minutes from either way if you leave from Petaling Jaya. The road may seem endless but if you love the rustic countryside than you'll be all good. The Sepang route will take you through endless palm oil estates and coconut tree fields and even smaller towns like Sungei Pelek etc. After dinner keep some Tupac or Rob Zombie to keep you awake as night driving in these small towns is a challenge - bad or no lighting on narrow roads will need you to be alert.

A map is HERE .

"Check Your Crap Occacionally When One Reaches 40....

2011-04-18T09:00:00.002+08:00

.... Check if your doo doos are bloody." the doctor said. "you're no longer invulnerable my boy. And 40 is when all your nonsense in life catches up to you" he added.

I hate this feeling. It disturbs me that I can't jump tall buildings in a single bound, run faster than a locomotive and have sex 6 times a day, but in a way there's a weird sense of calm that sinks in where you have to accept that a body does start to slow down as age catches up with a vengence.

The results are back. My cholesterol has dropped from 6.5 to 4.9 (not bad eh for 4 months of semi watching my diet and mainly to me stepping off the anal peddle at work). More importantly my liver has recovered! It seems the old filter has somewhat Wolverine like abilities to regenerate once you give it a break (hear that Langkau?). The doctor sounded slightly amazed at the results as the slight disbelief leaked over the phone line as he delivered the results from my blood test.

I guess there is hope. We do grow old. Its how we do it I guess. In moderation but never with regret. Do i have any regrets? Not really. I've learnt to live with my mistakes only because I have fuked up so much in my life and something always comes along eventually to put things in perspective so that i get another chance to fuck up on a whole new dimension next time. A never ending cycle of moronic discovery...

So I am slower on the football pitch, I recover EVEN SLOWER from injuries, my alcohol tolerance is no where close to the 12 pints of Guinness I could drink with aplomb in my youth, BUT its good to see that I find that I DONT need to rush on the field, I've discovered yoga (why get hurt with sweaty men when you can chill and stretch with lean, toned women who smell lovely), and finally realize that its a lot safer to drive home when you're sober and not a drooling retard. At this stage its appreciating what I have and working on making that better. Yes, i am a slow learner BUT I may not need be able to be Superman anymore but at least my liver is sorta Wolverine like. Its OK to be Peter Parker without Spiderman. At least I'm told I take decent photographs.

Veena Malik Lays The Smackdown on Mr Mufti

2011-04-16T11:34:00.000+08:00

Creativity Needed!

2011-04-14T14:55:00.003+08:00

OK the plans are afoot! This year i plan to move ahead with some fun projects on the side. I will need partners (and I will be contacting some of youse to see if you're keen to come on board - some of you already have indicated some interests).

None of these plans will involved compious amount of drugs (you're safe), sex (sorry guys and some girls) or over indulgent bouts of wanton alcoholism (sorry Langkau).

It does however include the web, creative/travel writing, creative architecture, some development programs for kids and even possibly the creation of a super hero or two.

I plan to park these projects under one company and need a a name for this little place in the universe which I hope will be able to the incubator and executor of some fun little projects that me and friends can get behind and possibly make some money for ever increasing prices of beer.

Any suggestions folks? I can't use Mum's Kitchen or Idea Expeller (i wont name names but that's why you're in freight forwarding la kotek).

Politicians the greatest champions of race and religion

2011-04-12T06:45:00.002+08:00

In my youth and even now I go out with friends who are Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Christians, Catholics and Jedi. We call each other Melayu Gila, Kaki Toddy, Babi Cina and um... Geek. We call each other what would seem racially explosive names while we mamak on teh tarik and canai, cursing football clubs, drooling at women and more cursing at our self appointed warriors of virtue and champions of the People - our local politicians. No matter what we say we are friends first and alway will be and the name calling comes from years of camaraderie built on a history of drunken escapades, stealing rambutans, breaking into girls boarding schools, breaking up each other's fights and standing our ground together on the football field in Kirby Estate with a hostile crowd spitting at us.

I am sorry the only People's Champion I recognise is The Rock. I dont need narrowminded ignorant posturing that is setting us on an expressway back to the dark ages in the name of THE PEOPLE or the country.

You smell what THE PEOPLE are REALLY cooking Ibrahim Ali?

I vote that that in future the only people to qualify for public office are fairy tale characters. At least they have something to teach us than these clowns we have.

Snow White for President?

How DO i become a famous blogger?

2011-04-08T11:05:00.002+08:00

Motherfuck - there are angrier, smarter, wittier and prettier bloggers out there. Some with larger boobs too. hairless some more. How do i translate my obvious wit and eccentric charm to seek the continued readership of a million sheep who will read my self indulgent blog?

I need an out from the corporate world. maybe in two years as i still have some things i need to accoplish before i One Finger Salute Corporate Industry for a life of paid writing where one can live life scratching one's nether regions at 10 in the morn with nary a care for the world.

i would need to specialize of course. A ranting random blog does not feed a concentrated and specialized need in this fast food world. Blog would either have to be :

1. About booze - DONE already - damn you Thirsty Blogger

2. About Food - i hate eating as its a pain. would love to just live on cold beer and crisps and the occasional banana leaf lunch. And J's blog is soooo extensive its scary!

3. About sex - am not a thorough sex hound like that Gutter dude. Nor do i have a daily thirst for tits and ass. I like midgets remember -_-

4. About dating - fuck that - my dates all involve cold beer, mutton curry and drunken bouts of pool in a smoky bar.

5. About fashion - would last 3 blog posts - Factory Outlet Shopping, Scamming Free Nike from LCB and the Malaysian office, Reject Shop shopping. Maybe another how to recycle the 'shirts' that my mum and aunties buy for me for festive seasons.

6. About sports - would not last - do not care for the romance of sports since I know the back end of it all. About playing sports the blog would last 2 posts - The Challenge Begins : Sports and the Glory of a Morning Run!, Blog post #2 - Rehab: Never Run Without A Warm Up.

7. Travel and adventure - do not have enough content for true holiday locations - blog would be probably cover best taxis, best budget hotels and cheapest bar in a holiday district. Possibly which airline has cutest stewardesses.

dammit i want to write for a living! get free invites to cheat on blog hits and live from home, waking up at odd hours and releasing a book based on bull shit content just because i recorded 50,000 hits a day.

But sadly, this will not happen. So with 15 regular readers a day I now have no choice but to kill any blogger who has more hits than me. That's right Kenny Sia, you used to be fat fuker, I'm coming for your ex fat ass now.....

* Friendly famous bloggers like J and Kim are of course safe as I AM prejudiced and am strictly full of shit sometimes...

Siiiighhhh.... the things one gets from eating too much mi soto for breakfast.....

Btw, Jakarta says Good Morning folks.

Save the Cop Campaign on Twitter and FB

2011-04-07T03:07:00.001+08:00

I'm in indonesia and my friends told me about the online campaign to save the job of young paramilitary cop Norman Kamaru above who was boogeying to a Hindi song from a Shah Rukh Khan movie. His superiors are not too happy as the young lad was fooling around on duty and while in uniform. But if YouTube exposed his happy go lucky tom foolery it looks like a Twitter and Facebook campaign saved his skin. Almost 50,000 folks signed on on FB page to support Norman and the YouTube clip was watched over 6 million times by more than 740,000 unique visitors.

Norman's superiors decided to let him off with a strict sentence of getting him to publicly perform in front of about 200 police officers. This world is a-changing eh folks where a virtual community can save a career of a young police officer across oceans and lands withouth uttering a single audible word. Just a tap of a keyboard is good enough.

The clip is a little long if you dont enjoy Hindi songs (whats wrong with you?) but good for a chuckle and who doesn't love a good old Hindi song eh?

Go HERE here for an Indonesian news article.

Go HERE for the FB page

I DONT Look Like This.......

2011-04-05T23:35:00.002+08:00

The things you people compare me to..... -_-

They are late...

2011-04-01T13:13:00.005+08:00

... and i am sitting in the cafe and i am hungry and i 've had two black coffees and i am restless and i need another massage and a steam bath and a sauna and i badly need to sweat and am not sure if the dumplings i bought from that old lady last night was dog meat or not as i could not finish it and the insides looked weird and that cute girl at the tour counter has cute dimples and the longest whitest legs ever she needs sun but still cute dimples and i really am hungry and hve that craving for the kuew teow at FAM Kelana Jaya the one with the old aunty with the scar on the right side of her face which I am told she cut in a bar fight with Wolverine when she called him a faggot for drinking a Stella instead of Guinness Stout but sometimes we just need to be open to the worlds inadequecies did i spell inadequet correctly fuck if i am care they are late and i've got a 3pm meet in another cafe which means another coffee but damn those girls on the little bikes are cute and i love it the way those short skirts sorta ride up the..... sorry Girlfriend...... when the bike ride so smoothly along the roads in this lovely capital and fuck they didnt hve the decency to at least let me know they're late bet they went to the wrong hotel but fuck i've emails and sms to prove i gave them the correct directions maybe they need something that i cant think of now i really wanted to say something smart but the club next door only stopped my walls from reverberating at about 4am this morning maybe i will go in there tonight and see what the fuss is all about but last night when i passed by the tough looking guys outside made me think twice bad marketing motherfuckers men in black jackets sell nothing except cheap motorbikes to morons who Supermen their way to stolen handbags fuck it i need food.

UPDATED 1.36pm (Vietnam time), 1st April 2010

They were on time and my watch was on Malaysian time. Motherfrodo.....

Breakfast In The Airport Again...

2011-03-31T08:19:00.003+08:00

The bag is packed and I'm ready to go. I still hate coverting Ringgit to Dong. RM250 is worth1.2gazillion Dong.. I am not particularly smart and under pressure i doubt i will be able to figure out exactly how much I will be paying for that communist propoganda poster (if i can find it).

Hippies from Europe crowd the only cafe in the LCCT. Weird. ALso i think my shoes are cleaner that their hair. So nice to rasta along life. There's rempit rock playing on the radio which is distracting. Makes me want to grab and old bike, do the Superman and sweep a drug addled 17 year old off her feet in front of that old Motorola factory.

Last month Malaysian security started implementing lap top searches or at least asking folks to take laptops out. At least 3 years after singapore started implementing the rule. But as usual its doing things for the sake of it. On the last trip i noticed no one was stationed before the scanning mission to ensure everyone took out their laptops and phones like they do in most of europe, singapore and thailand.

THis morning i was bored so i didnt bother to take my lap top out and sent it throught the scanner. Typical. I walked through without a problem, the bored officer not seeming to take offence at my laptop snuggled cosily with my boxers.

Siigh. Malaysia boleh. The land of copycats. Doing for the sake of doing but not knowing the who, what and whys. The same people who wish to build a nuclear reactor when all government projects go to a cousin's brothers second aunty's third nipple's butt cheek's cousin.

Anyone one want anything from 'Nam? Reasonbale requests please. And no, i wont look for those landmines FON.

The FON said....

2011-03-29T21:31:00.005+08:00

UPDATED : 6.40pm, 30th March 2011. - See point 10.

..."write how kind I am, how good i am with kids and how kind and loving I am to all humankind."

"you hear that? listen." , I said.

" wot?"

"yes, its my balls. They are laughing fuker."

"HAHAHAHAHA" comes back the evil msn message on my lap top screen.

Its hilarious, the FON attempting to get back into society by seeking human compassion after years of mind fucking innocents into committing acts of insanity. THAT is why my balls were breaking out in fits of testicular giggling.

This post is about some of the type of friends i keep. Freaks. And what better reason than the most disturbed individual of all, The FON short for The Force of Nature. Yes, we forgot to add evil. make that Evil Mother Lover FOrce Of Nature.

The FON acts as truly a force of nature not knowing right from wrong, acting on a collective will of all evil thoughts in this world. We wont speak of his past when he came down from Penang where every man stores his money in his mattress and a romantic date is a trip out to that nasi kandar place along Burma Road. A young idealistic innocent who somehow along the way warped into an evil laughing menace to society.

This post also serves as a warning to you all who might chance across the FON in your daily lives in this city by giving you a list of incidences involving the FON that highlights why if you see him coming down the street, you run in the opposite direction like a mad motherfrodo in heat.

It also shows that i am a sucker for pain as he's also my friend.

Let me begin:

WHY THE FON IS EVIL AND THE ULTIMATE CORRUPTER OF ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THIS WORLD AND ACT BEYOND THE REASON OF HUMAN BEINGS.

The attempts of the FON to set me up with women when i just got to know him (early days, no warning of what was to come)

1. Introducing me to a hot colleague in a bar. "follow me" he says. With beers in hand we walk up to this attractive Chinese girl at the bar. He taps her on the back. She turns, smiles and greets him.

"UUGGGGH!" he grunts and motions her to me.

"UUGGGH!" he grunts and motions me to her.

and. walks. away.

We stand there hot girl and me, in a crowded bar, staring bewildered at each other.

motherfrodo......

2. The FON has a blind date. He meets up with me, Loony and Loony Jr at a dodgy bar with some GROs and a very cute half German Half Chinese girl who was part timing there while she studied. The FON soon after goes for his date.

BUT he turns up within 30 minutes WITH HIS BLIND DATE at this dodgy bar filled with skimpily dressed women! We can see that he REALLY is trying to impres his date. THe fallout from this is:

- the FON ends up dating the cute waitress for a few weeks. After week 3 she shaves her head bald, packs her bags and leaves for Phuket to build homes with her bare hands to help those affected by the Phuket tsunami

- He dates the blind date girl for about 6 months. It doesn't last long but they remain friends. She even introduces him and me to her future husband and constantly tries to find hi girlfriends. I think its sweet. BUT have no idea why the future husband which i met only once keeps calling me for tea. He always says he's in the neighborhood. I am not home much so i keep declining. One day he catches me on at the right time. I am near he says wanna go for coffee? OK gimme ten minutes thinking he's a way off. He turns up at my place in 2 minutes flat! Over coffee, he seems mellow making things uncomfortable. I am trying to excuse myself but it seems he has something to say. Suddenly he looks at me "do you know Chindy, i was supposed to get married today."

"wha......."

"yes she broke it off last month"

I text the FON - "wtf did you do??? i am sitting with this stalker clown whom i met once and he's telling me shit! what did you do to that women's head?"

the reply text only reads "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! farneeeeeee!"

-_-

3. We go to an event launch together. I am chatting up a cute girl. I buy her drinks. we're laughing, flirting and all the rights signs are in the air. The FON walks up nonchalantly, looks at the girl "hey I am the editor of FHM, would you like to be on my cover?"

I lose her attention of course. He chats with her while i walk off pissed. exactly 3 minutes later he comes back and says "lets blow this place, it sucks. AND you're too good for her Chindy baby."

4. another set up date - The FON sets me up with i find out later with a woman who fancies him. She brings along a date for him and two other girls. Morning Papers comes along for the ride. FON sees that the date for him is not his type and switches off leaving Morning and me having to make uncomfortable conversations wit 4 women we do not know. The FON's only contribution in the entire two hours, while he concentrates hard on the TV screen behind us is "Fuck man Heiki should be faster this round". At least Morning Papers got an offer to go to Genting with one of the girls who also bought him a nice shirt.

5. Another one of FON's exes just recently became a lesbian.

6. He set me up with a woman whose sole thing in common with me was "she likes Guinness". That is after 8 pints of Guinness. EACH.

7. Sets me on on a blind date without telling me and then tells everyone else at the table to not speak to me and the date - his version of giving us alone time -_-

8. Gives 2 bricks to a colleague as a Christmas present all beautifully wrapped up. The poor unknowing girl carries the heavy load back to Sri Kembangan, taking two buses from PJ. Of course there is hell to pay on Christmas day when she unwraps it in front of her family. To make matter worse, by some Chinese tradition her Mum doesn't allow her to throw it away as its a gift from someone! talk about hating life and the FON.

9. Setting up phony accounts of hot women and flirting and luring a poor unsuspecting colleague to a Muslim house on Chinese New Year day (carrying mandarin oranges) looking for a hot Chinese girl called Chloe.

10. The FON books supposedly the 'presidential suite' at Laban Rata on Kinabalu Mountain. He backs out the last minute with some vague excuse leaving me to scale the granite giant alone with a guide. I am puzzled why my guide is fearful to take up my offer to take FON's bed and I take the room alone. I assume he thinks I am gay and will ravage him at night. I had problems showering and taking a shit in that huge concrete toilet as its seems colder than the air outside. Just last year as some of you know i find out that that room is the de facto morgue of the mountain where the bodies of unfortunate climbers are stored before they are taken down the mountain. Yes, i spend a night in a morgue in a room that the FON booked and backed out of. Motherfrodo...

So there you go. Fair warning. The FON lives and as time passes more flock to his side. We are those who stand in his way to create an evil empire that will turn straight women gay, care free women into nuns and monks (bald) and send pure hearts searching for lost causes.

You have been warned.

Fragile

2011-03-25T07:58:00.003+08:00

Just this last Monday in Singapore, on the MRT train from Changi to the city i had a MOMENT. A sudden surge of self reflection of my inner interpretation of life.

As the doors opened at one of the stops, the lady in front of who was seating in the Priority Seats, got up as she beckoned to someone behind me to take her seat. A young pregnant mother smiled gently and took her place. She had a simple face, a little shy, very quiet and dressed in what would probably be her day job as a promoter in a pharmacy or retail outlet.

You could sense an aura of fragility around this gentle woman but her quiet dignity gave her a sense of nobleness.

Then as the train silently sped up to the next stop i can't keep thinking how noble it is to carry an unborn child with such dignity. make that carry a child period. A mother to be is a fragile, precious vessel to untold futures. That they carry these dreams with unwavering stolidity and passion and again i say dignity is something we miss in this time of unwavering pursuits of eternal wealth and unfulfilled dreams. That child is special of course, but a mother completes this universe and provides that kryptonite chain between the present and the many futures in time.

Fuck, I hope I'm not menopausing early.....

Of Hobbits, Streets of Sin and ABC by a Beach

2011-03-23T08:27:00.002+08:00

So I finally found it. The legendary Hobbit House in Manila on the day the tsunami and 8.9 Richter scaled earthquake hit Sendai, Japan.

I feel vindicated, only because I had to get it out of my system especially since I now had been misrepresented as a midget molestor at my hotel. I was expecting a rowdy, riotous atmosphere - i will be honest, I was expecting a packed bar, a rock band on stage, midgets dancing on tables and basically what a scene from a pub in the Shire would look like (minus the rock band).

What I found was a quiet little backpacker bar with great acoustic performances. You know you got a versatile singer when she actually sang my request for Bob Marley's 'Waiting in Vain'. The little people who act as doormen and waiters are quietly dignified and thus i was reluctant to get them to pose with signs to the FON proclaiming him to be an Evil MOFO. Plus it was too dark for my BB camera.

Its a great little salute the the Lord of The Rings legacy with pictures and images adorning the walls from the decades of printed literature saluting Tolkien's grand work. Even the entrance was inspired by Bilbo Baggin's home's round door (it swings inwards).

What can i say - the San Mig Lights are about RM5 bucks a bottle (about USD1.50) and check this out you guzzlers - they serve over 200 beers from all over the world! Now that's what I'm talking about people!

All in all in was a quick hour as my Pinoy buddies felt a little weird as they had never been there but they did start rocking when the band started singing our requested songs (we have good tastes).

For more info go HERE

The Hobbit House is located at:

1212 ARQUIZA TRADE CENTER Marcelo H. del Pilar
Manila 1000, Philippines
Phone : 02 521 7604

Streets of Sin and Tales of Survival

On this trip I was staying at the Makati Place Hotel at the infamous Burgos street with its girlie bars with listless gyrating young girls looking to attract the attention of shabby tourists to either buy them commissioned drinks or for a more intimate transaction.

I had walked into one when waiting for my buds to pick me up and at 730pm things were early but the girls were out in force already. I chatted with my waitress and it seemed like it was the standard story - single mums forced to work, giving up their bodies for money. What is different in the Philippines is many of them are either college students or some already graduated. Jobs are hard to come by in the Philippines and hence the huge export of manpower to the rest of the world. Getting jobs in the Philippines itself is supposedly a game of who you know.

After the Hobbit House, we decided to head to one of the upmarket karaoke bars - we had started listening to the news on the earthquake and its devastation and at this point were not sure what tomorrow would bring (cancelled flights, possibly giant waves north east of Philippines, etc. "what better way then to sing a few songs with cold beers and some babes at a time like this?" my Pinoy buds suggested. Who am I to say NO eh?

I have to say the women in here were stunning. Anyone of them in Malaysia would pass for a model, singer, pseudo celebrity but here in Manila they were working as hostesses. I chat with one of them - a single mum at 21, she took on this job as she didn't have enough money to go tru college. And this story is repeated thousands of times across the city from what I had gathered from some university professors that i am working with on some programs. Many insist on finishing school and take months or a year to work in clubs, bars, brothels to save enough to finish their courses from good universities.

"But that gives you an edge over the guys then?" I ask - i mean a girl can earn more in a high end bar than they can ever hope for even in an average marketing, admin, job in any company.

"there are bars like this for men too" came her casual reply.

"wtf..." But they cant be as many as with women? She is not sure but she says the boys find other ways to find tuition fees. These are educated kids. And they will do what they need to to survive I guess in a tough world their goal is to get a degree and leave their country for work just so they can send savings back to their family and children. In the meantime their working day starts at 3pm everyday, fighting the Manila traffic to work by buses and jeepneys and finally exhausted walking through the door at home after work in the wee hours of 4-5am after a night of drinking and dancing with strangers.

One of these days I will prob do a more detailed post on this segment of the region that we overlook and some women frown on - these fortunate ones who live in the suburbs of KL and Singapore never knowing hardships of this sort.

Burgos - A pictorial

Burgos at night is a neon streaked street with music wafting into the street from behind heavy curtained entrances as shifty eyed older men sit on bar entrances with older women, way past the age of wearing plunging neck lines and spaghetti straps. In the day its slightly different. I took a walk around while waiting for my airport pickup which was to take me to Clark Airfield for the flight to Kota Kinabaly where Nex waited with lightsabers in hand and offers of noodles from the Place of Lorries.

Could be any old street in the US of A?

I really want to know what happens inside this one.

Home made road cones from food tins.

One of the cafe's along the street opposite the Makati Palace hotel

Financial problems has Bruce Wayne renting out facilites and not being able to afford a decent proof reader.

Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia

I took the 4pm flight from Clark in the Philippines and head to KK for a stopover. Nex fetches me from the airport and updates me on the latest cosplay politics in KK and Semenanjung. WTF man, Cosplay world is as bad as FIFA!

Sunday morning we drive through a lovely cold morning to Tamparuli for a breakfast of the Tuaran noodles. I love these trips. I dont know why, the noodles are ok but maybe its the old charm of Tamparuli town, maybe its the famous fragile bridge over an engorged river, maybe its the faint faint old memory of the folk song about the bridge or maybe even that large hill beside the town where Nex and I always say that the flat top of the hill would be perfect for a home (in my case a bar).

If there ever is a place in this country i would retire to it would be Sabah. The women are HAWT, the beaches and mountains are just two hours apart, the pace still uncorrupted by the dynamics of a strong commercial engine outside of the industry of natural resources. But the politicians are here. Illegal immigrants are being given citizenship like a fire sale every time there is a general or state election. The hand of politics hangs over, claws at, and greedily covets this resource rich state.

What to do la? Idealism wont win this fight. Possibly a secret campaign group of Jedi's, mutants and Stone Cold Steve Austin might do the trick but at the moment they only exists bat the bottom of that 5th jug of Heineken.

We hit an outdoor store near Jesselton Pier - almost all the products at fake (100% fake as they say) but the prices are a bit too high for fakes. I did buy a water proof hiking pants just to test if the fabrics are 100%. Dodgy workmanship can be repaired. Quality fabrics are a diff story. Test run in a month when i try to get up Agung or another mountain. If one drop of water wets my balls there is going to be hell to pay. The earth shall shake, mountains will cry, rivers shall bleed when I seek revenge. Well, at least a refund.

Just before my flight back to KL at 6pm, we head to Tanjung Aru, for our tradition of that sloppy burger by the ocean on Beach 3 of Tanjung Aru. An overcast day brings in cold wins from the South China Sea. Japan is devastated, the Philippines are going ahead with life, a beuatiful young single mother rides a cramped jeepney to work in a baggy t shirt and jeans but when the setting sun transforms manila in a neon city she transforms into a sophisticated beauty in a little black dress, across the Asia Pacific hysterical news and gossip sent some markets down and some folk running for the hills. But on that beach, on that day, as the waves crashed against glistening gold sand, as I ate cold Air Batu Campur on the beach with an old buddy, life, my dear friends, was good.

The End of Human Interaction Pt1004

2011-03-19T08:57:00.003+08:00

Already have ranted how some REFUSE to speak over the phone and instead look to communicating indirectly that they are time wasting morons by sms-ing, BBM-ing and Whatsapp-ing me.

A couple of weeks ago one of my junior staff sent me an email seeking urgent clarification for office matter. It was urgent of the utmost urgentestssss. I may have a BBM but i dont really read all emails esp from this person as it has a habit of copying me on every bloody correspondence esp the "noted" even if its an email exchange between It and another party.

Anyway i throw a bitch fit and ask as the best i can without killing it like a worm on a highway why It didnt just call me. "but i emailed you...", It bleated, as if an email sitting around in a 'SENT' box measn a reaffirmation of faith in technologies efforts of delivering effective communication between a flawed species inhabiting this world.

A coupla days ago, i am invited by a friend to her birthday party. Its a bar in someplace i've never been before., where only whispers of mutant 'dim sum' feeding on neighborhood Rottweilers are heard in the scared mutterings of police and postmen alike (yes Pos Malaysia is still in service).

The invite is on FB and i ask back for directions. No reply.

I sms her and ask for directions and get vague directions that seem to lead me to Bantang Berjuntai instead of a bar filled with hot bustiered women. I then say that i will try to get to general area but will call for directions. "no need la, just use GPS" comes the reply.

GPS?

SMS?

Why doesn't anyway want to speak anymore?

In the future when Malaysia's nuclear reactor goes FUCK, when there is no electricity and infrastructure to sustain that Ipad, Iphone, Ibollocks, two young boys will meet each other on a devasted landscape of a ruined city of Kajang. Debris whistles past them amid rubble from crumbled buildings. They will stare at each other, desperately trying to remember the lessons taught to them by their parents who in turn learnt the new means of communication in this devasted world from some unknown sources.

THey start communicating, banging their balls to a song of Morse Code, "gd aft, nd fnd food. M OTW hme. tc!"

Call 5 people today folks! Speak to them. Flirt, joke, laugh. just a minute conversation will do. And you better answer when i call...

Yeah, I am Easily Amused....

2011-03-18T00:11:00.001+08:00

The road leading to Tanjung Aru beach in Kota Kinabalu

Lets NOT Lemming

2011-03-15T20:17:00.003+08:00

The Philippines gets tsunami alerts the moment the quake hit Japan. I was with some Pinoys over breakfast in Manila. They greeted the news with nonchalance, called their immediate relatives in the affected areas to move inland and then asked me where we were going for beers later in the evening.

On sunday, mass sms's say that radiation has spread to the Philippines from the nuclear reactor in Japan. Mass BBM messages spread asking me to pray for the Japanese and asked me to send it on. - what the fuck is this shit - these folks dont pray even in normal circumstances. Why would God listen to those with selective prayer practives based on dramatic circumstances?Where's the simple prayer to thank Him for putting a meal in front of you everyday? Yesterday I get SMS, BBM and FB messages saying that I should stay indoors as the rains will be acid and it will burn me and my balls will become impotent.

I guess they mean well but WHY spread shit when its not subtantiated? Look, if the world's going to go boom, what have they done to keep their families safe? If there's nothing we CAN do, lets just go to a bar and have sex, get drunk, watch reruns of Glee or whatever it is that rocks your boat. Getting to the base of the fact will at least allow us some good sense to judge our actions for the day.

If I were to listen to all that crap on the net and mobile phones I would be hunkered down in my apartment, praying to the 1,000 Hindu Gods and Bob Marley (thrown in for good measure) while ordering pizza and secretly praying for the soul of that poor Domino's delivery loser who would be soaked in acid rain. And whose kids would turn out to be zombies. and who would take over Batang Berjuntai and spread across the world and then I would email Carlos and ask him if he could come save me as he's more prepared for a zombie holocaust than i am and that i hope he could help make his way through Europe as the Pacific Ocean was now alive with all manner of off sea mutant sealife of Godzilla size propotions and that we would somehow find a sanctuary in the mountains of the Kelabit highlands that even corrupt politicians fear to thread where Langkau and Nex had set up the last human outpost manned by mutant Jedi dressed up as Japanese schoolgirls!

whoa......

BUT....

The reactor core has not been breached. There is radiation leaking but the explosions have not yet affected the core. The royal fuck up is when that happens. Then we all go hit that bar. Of course we learn from Chernobyl and even the Bhopal incidences. Its bad but the actual spread will only hit us in about 5 years to a decade gradual exposure to contaminated food or drinking water turns us into mutant retards. There is no radioactive wave of death on the Philippines (google any local Philippine news agencies, bbc.com). Things are getting scary. Thats true. Reactor 5 and 6 now have tempretures rising. anything can happen. But in the meantime...

...I am going ahead with my meeting with a guest from Japan. I am going to reschedule my doctors meeting. I need to run out and buy some Thai Bhat for my trip to Bangkok on Thursday and then I am going back to the office to finish of replying emails that i have been slacking off lately.

We can send money to Japan but I would say take your time and send it through some respectable agency and not by buying Lady Gaga's 5 dollar band. It's going to take time for the Japanese to get back up but they will. The discpline of that country is steel. They will perservere.

But we know now that this world is volatile. We can't turn things back. Corrupt politics, industrial and corporate greed and the control of a few over many will not allow us a future of a better world. That dream is over. face it. Relive in in your parents old photographs.

For now just stop sending me hysterical correspondences withouth verifying if its serious enough for me to postpone Happy Hour.

Tsunamis and Hobbits....

2011-03-11T17:54:00.002+08:00

So a tsunami alert is out. A wall of water is spreading across the oceans from the aftermath of the 8.9 quake in Japan. Its supposed to hit the Philippines early tomorrow morning. Manila is OK but the northern provinces are being evacuated. I am chatting with Cass Dragon in Manado, and North Sulawesi is also on alert. Manado is evacuating now with the town snarled up by heavy traffic of people trying to get to higher ground. Looks like things might get a little hairy here in in and around the Pacific Ocean.

I think I will go out for a beer. Maybe a massage and then on to more beers with midgets at the Hobbit House.

In search of..... Hobbits

2011-03-10T23:41:00.005+08:00

Sometimes I do favors for friends. I do these things. I oblige especially when i think its a cool thing to try out anyway and I will leave with a richer experience.

I am now in Manila.

The evil FON motherlover asked me to find the legendary Hobbit House. Because of some huge citywide convention I am in a hotel on the infamous Burgos street. Old FONster had asked me to take a photo of the place with a midget holding up a sign with his name. Even Bella asks me for the same thing when she found out my mission for the day. The FON also wanted a t-shirt if possible.

My conversation with the concierge:

"Excuse me, do you know this bar called the Hobbit House?"

"The WHAT sir?"

"The HOBBIT HOUSE. All the waiters are midgets. I think the bar tenders are too".

"aaaahhhhhh......... midgets?"

"yes midgets"

"ummm... there are midgets around.. but......"

"nono i MEAN the BAR is sort of RUN BY MIDGETS. Its famous."

"But sir there are many bars on this street. Many pretty girls."

"nononono.... DUDE I want to find the Hobbit House only. The one with the midgets!"

"............................................ , uuhhhhh........ but... sir, why do you like midgets? This street all the girls are REALLY VERY PRETTY".

mother fuck............ -_-

I went down the street looking in futility. I came back quickly to check online (which i should have done earlier and find out that the Hobbit House is further than i thought i was). BUT i do get funny looks from the concierge, door security and that nice lady at the cafe. Damn these hotel staff like to gossip. Now they think I am a Frodo fucker.

fuk man. Is it ME? how the fuck do I get into these things?????????

FON? You're a curse man.

Charles Barkley calls himself a dumbass

2011-03-10T10:53:00.000+08:00

There are very few athletes who transcend their greatness on a field of play and become PERSONALITIES. Jordan was god but always came across as a little boring. My top athletes of all time that I would love to have teh tarik with would be Cantona, Mick Foley (yes pro wrestling is a sport in some ways) and Good old "i'm no role model' Sir Charles Barkley. Just enjoying a lighter moment here as i sit in my hotel in Manila, waiting for a meeting to start.

Me when young>>>

2011-03-09T01:56:00.000+08:00

Makes me nostalgic.....

You dont have to watch the whole thing. A minute is all you need. Thanks to Acid for this clip>

Travel and See the World Young Man.....

2011-03-08T09:27:00.002+08:00

They told me this when i was young, way before I even had hair nestled gently below my arm pits. I Indian priest also told me about 10 years ago that I would work and travel abroad frequently, he even mentioned the US of A. Adventures loomed to me when I was 6 - i was an international man of mystery who would travel to England to look for Enid Blyton and we would fight the Evil Empire (of wait, i was 10) when Vader wanted to use the Magic Faraway Tree as a docking bay for the Death Star. I would then fly to America where my heroine who looked surprisingly like Erin Gray would help me blast away Storm Troopers in a hail of fire and laser beams.

At 15 I yearned to travel and write stories of adventures, inspired by Biggles, Ernest Hemmingway and that Hardy Boy ripoff series about two brothers who travelled the world saving animals.

At 22 with a job in Nike I travelled but instead of postings abroad I was more than happy to stay days, weekends, weeks from Hong Kong to Portland. I saved and scrapped for that one month holiday to Nepal. ANd the momentum gained. Travel has been part of my life but never ever was i close to ever getting a job abroad. I did not have the paper qualifications (make that a degree) to ever qualify for a multinational company and so I remained contented in weekly excursion across borders.

Now with 2 extra years tagged onto 40 i get an offer to move abroad. But its me so it's not New York or London or Hong Kong.

Its Jakarta.

Where some of the sexiest women in South East Asia reside.

Aiyaaaa.....

Also I would need to oversee a Singapore office which details are not too clear.

So with age now catching up with me and the wanderlust somewhat satiated after more than two decades of travelling, I am actually quite content to stay in my comfort zone and when you are thinking more about the jakarta traffic instead of the sexiness on display, you just KNOW you're getting old.

However, Jakarta is close to Bali and Bali has beaches and mountains and cheap beers. That bar by the beach will happen folks. Even if ITS JUST a wooden plank and a roof. This is a promise I make to you all. And drinks will be on the house for all of you when it happens. Except Langkau of course. Your quota is 3 jugs for the first night.

I believe the next year will see me put the foundations of where I will live out my old age. I think anyway. Beaches call me. Corporate politics suck the sweat off my balls on a daily basis and simplicity does not bring along high blood pressure and cholesterol along for the ride.

Beach, babes and beers. What else to want eh?

wait, did i digress somewhat?

Wassup with this?

2011-03-02T13:17:00.001+08:00

Tunisia, Egypt, Bahrain and now someone wakes up one of the original outlaws, ol' Muammar in Libya. Popular uprisings? REALLY? With such coordination and an obvious concentrated and coordinated force of will?

Who could it be? The Illuminatti? Mossad? Amway?

What would they gain? Higher fuel prices? meaning higher everything? Does this mean my morning nasi lemak is going to cost more? Does this mean imported underwear will cost the same as a pair of 501s? A 100 dollar jug of beer?

Does this mean if Gadaffi and his ilke don't sort themselves out and take extended leaves of absences to placate these justice seeking rabble, i have to be content with just ...how many mugs is a jug...... FOUR mugs of beer only during happy hours?

Damn you Illuminatiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!! Damn you Amwaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!!!!

Yo Mossad, sssuppp homes......

Uhh.... i have a girlfriend, what do I do with it?

2011-02-26T19:05:00.005+08:00

After 6 years as a lone wolf, a rogue Numenorean Ranger wandering the Plains of Life solo, I find myself with a girl friend.

It has been so long where i have a co-pilot, a Robin to my Batman, a Chewie to my Solo, a Jim Niendhart to my Bret Hart (wrestling reference. Jutin Bieber fans move along). What do I do?

Do I have to water her 3 times a day?

Put her out in the sunlight in the mornings?

Send her to BMW for tuneups every 10,000 km?

I am pretty sure I have to put her in line for that Bikini Bod Babe List when I head to the islands...

What gets me constipated

2011-02-24T21:20:00.001+08:00

1. Sitting at Starbucks surrounded by constipated looking drones tapping away on their laptops. (its facebook, why look like you're reading a Wikileaks document?)

2. Being stuck behind the majority of passengers of a Low Cost Carrier airline - meaning a herd of chatterring, blabbing, illeterate love spawn of orcs and red neck Teletubbies.

3. Trying to explain an addendum for a legal document on BBM while stuck in a traffic jam along the highway, in heavy rain, on a friday evening. (i've long found out that folks who dont aswer phone calls and prefer to chat via BBMs and SMSs keep these as evidence of discussions. mother lovers....)

4. Shopping with women for hiking gear ( boots do not need to match your jacket in the jungle!!!!!!)

5. Fending off "when are you going to get married" questions from drunk uncles at family weddings.

6. Pushy telesales marketeers especially dudes called Robert Jenkins from London who sounds like Premalakh Kale from Mumbai - "Yend todais woffer yiis wOnly valid till 5pm todai. Aye strOOngly saggest you kanferm its now sir"

7. Pyramid scheme direct selling mother lovers. 'Nuff said.

8. Women who refuse to go out with me by saying I'm too nice

9. Women who refuse to go out with me because they say I'm too grumpy when......

10. ..... gay men think I'm cute

A Manila Weekend

2011-02-21T12:29:00.002+08:00

Dinner at the Cantina Mexican restaurant opposite Anteneo University. The closest to an American Uni expereince I've ever had. Packed to the brim with the brightest YOUNG folk, strumming on guitars, singing, cam whore-ing and San Mig Lights. Malaysian Universities in comparison are something like an elephant graveyard. Or some house that smells of old people (damn, should I tempt fate, I'm a few decades away from a life of adult diapers and using viagra just to hold my pants up).

If you're ever there order up the Tower. Pork Ribs, nachos, tortillas and everthing Mexican except for Salma Hayek Gyrating on your lap with nothing on her but a white python around her bobos. It feeds up to 8 hungry manly men which it did. My TV and marketing crew, Gus and myself were too full and satisfied to even oggle the young nubiles on parade. Yes the food was that fulfilling.

The Philippines is as close to small town Americana as possible with the lasting impressions of the US Navy and Air Force bases long abandoned in Clark and Subic. Signages, fast food outlets, names of business could be tired carbon copies of rural life in the US of A.

The education system is one of the best I've see but then with more bright sparks graduating than professional jobs available it's sad when you walk into bars across the region and see Filipino graduates serving you beers and being paid to chat you up to buy more drinks. (they are of course not as mercenary as the China Dolls or Fanny and Apple from Puchong and Nipple and Vagina from Hong Kong).

Philipines has not hit exploiting the tourism potential yet - the volcanoes, the beaches and islands are yet to open the eyes of the world to this untapped destination. I so far have offers to climb Pinatubo, visit Palawan island and of course if some women with hot bikini bods wish to ravage me like wild lionesses in heat are up for it, i also have an offer to hit the seaside paradise of Boracay (please email chindianatrails@gmail.com for further information. Those of you with boy friends larger and hairier than me need not apply).

Getting out of Clark Airport (yes I flew AirAsia) I still dont get it why that guy who mans the security scanner into the departure hall keeps hinting for me to give him my small change. Almost the entire group ignore him. We've been getting his shtick for the past year already but obviously it must work on some travellers or else he woulda given up a long time ago. Thats another thing about the Philippines, they've got to be able to reign in some dodgy elements who might put off foreign investments and long term tourism if they can catch up with the rest of the region.

Another new place for holiday destinations. So many places to see. So little time..

Talking Thai

2011-02-16T19:36:00.004+08:00

I've had problems understanding Thais speak English. A coupla days ago in Bangkok I had to lovely opportunity to be involved with two Thai gents in interesting 'conversations' almost within an hour of each other.

I hail a cab to go to the airport. There is a teddy bear at the back seat. I smile as get in and ask "yours?'

The cabbie looks back and urgently informs me to "Poin baside!"

"whaa....???"

"Poin baside, poin baside!"

"umm.... where?" I gesture to the space behind my seat with the standard issue tissue box.

"POINBASIDE!"

"you mean put in back side???" common sense flies out the window in the face of obvious personal juvenile interpretation and i come to the conclusion that the teddy was a bit too big to fit in my ass.

fuk man.....

i close the door, lean back, mutter to myself "wtf....." and order him in my best Imperial Officer baritone to take me to Suvarnabhumi airport.

After checking in, I get past immigration and make my way to the security scanners.

Laptop out, belt off, I make my way to the scanners.

The security officer looks at me, "kapinbwaasel." (or something like that)

"wha.... sorry?"

"Kapinbwaaseel?"

"fuk............. aaah............. "

"Kapin bwaaseel?????" and tugs at his shirt.

wathefukdoeshewantmetotakemyshirtoff???????

"Bwaaseeel????" and points at my chest.

'OOOOHHHHHHHH.... Brazil number one!" i actually smile (yes I SMILED - babies laughed, the Martians postponed invading Paris and unicorns run across rainbows all over the world), i reach out and actually pat him on the back before going past him. Glad he like my Brazilian football jersey.

Languages are sometimes like a box of chocolates eh? you just dont know what you gonna get yourself into. Sports is universal language and in most cases an easy bond between men around the world. Teddy bears however can be a linguistic nightmare.

Some Folks Gonna Get Hurt Real Bad

2011-02-13T09:40:00.003+08:00

I must maintain that the women folk in general are just a lot smarter and are imbued with more common sense than the Y follk. BUT somehow as the balance of nature must be maintained I have come to the conclusion that there is a rogue gene in minds of the ladies that somehow creates strange and fantastical thoughts in their minds eg, love comes in the form of a white knight who will treat them like daddy did, to survive a tropical trek in extreme conditions one MUST have color coordinated gear including boots and parkas and caps, can gloves and termal underwear, getting their lefts and rights confused and up to yesterday this gem will go into the list:

I am having drinks with 3 ladies. They are discussing a trekking trip to Bhutan which I was keen on following. A bit of the conversation below :

Lady: " Its OK, we do 3 days in Bhutan and then we do another 4 days in Nepal. It will be so cool!

Chindiana : "wait a minute, isnt 3 days in Butan too short? With travelling time you probably have only one day."

Lady B : "its OK we can go through the mountains straight away then come down in a day."

Chindiana : -_-

Lady A : "Why are you looking like that?"

Chindiana : "I dont know about you but I'm not that fit ladies"

Lady B : "Why not? You think it will be tough?"

Lady A : " Aiya, shouls be OK wan la, if you can shop for 8 hours in Midvalley this is not a problem!"

Chindiana : "wtf............ . You SERIOUS?:"

Lady A : " Ya lor! Somemore 8 hours in high heels man!"

Yes they are serious. They've never hiked before. They've never been up a mountain. Their reference point IS ACTUALLY comparing to shopping in an air cond mall. Lady C was quiet as all she wants in Bhutan is to meet the prince who is supposedly the most eligable bachelor in the world. I have excuse myself from the trip which they plan to make in May.

Lady A owns her own employment agency which has offices in Malaysia, Nepal and Thailand. Lady B is one of the most succesful sales directors in the magazine industry, Lady C runs her own consultancy but in May they're all gonna be hurtin' real bad.....

Morning Flusterations before Ho Chi Minh

2011-02-09T10:47:00.005+08:00

Date: Now

Place: My apartment

Situation: Preparing for flight to Vietnam

Sometimes when i have too much time before a flight, i tend to take it easy at home. Chilling, eating a leisurely breakfast, reading the papers, and sometimes blowing bubbles, just to see them float out my balcony. Trust me blowing bubbles is VERY therapeutic and no, i haven't turned gay just yet.

Sometimes after the bubble blowing escapades i forget to seal the bottle with the soapy liquid properly.

SOMETIMES the bottle tips over when i'm grabbing by passport to pack.

SOMETIMES i happen to place my foreign currency next to my wallet which is close to my bottle of bubbly fun.

NOW with half an hour to kill before my cab arrives I have a fistfull of soapy Dong in my hands.

-_-

London Manchester

2011-02-07T08:52:00.000+08:00

London dawn from my hotel room at Picadilly

Just some random pictures from the London and Manchester trip a coupla weeks ago. Just some random points:

1. English food tastes like Marmite flavored cardboard (yes i have mentioned this many times before)

2. The Chinese food however is most excellent if you know where to go in both London and Manchester.

3. Next to the person who created hipster jeans and midriff tops I now salute the designers who created the skin tight jeans tucked into knee high CFM boots.

4. There's the same amount of fashion stores catering to men as much as to women. Seemingly English men dont shop in factory outlets like me....

5. It's funny how fast Asians can pick up and stick to an English accent - even if they just spent two weeks visiting their cousin in Burmingham and they come back sounding like James Bond.

6. Lilly Whites in London man - best sports store around ! Cheaper than Manchester too in some areas.

Old Trafford fills up before the Birmingham game. View from a VIP box

Turned out quite a good experience. After meetings in London we took the train to Manchester to catch a game. Sometimes, just sometimes things work out pleasantly. Because of some members of our travelling party were VIPs we get picked up by limos at the train station and are shuttled to the Lowry hotel, Manchester's best hotel. We are limo-ed over to Old Traffrod where we are surprised with a luncheon hosted in a corporate box over looking the stadium with the game against Birmingham. I am not a supporter of the club but I have to admit I do respect their professionalism and marketing savvy. It's a different world altogether from the way Asian companies do business.

I need these things. The world is getting smaller and these projects give me a rush. Sometimes working in Malaysia frustrates the crap out of me with the petty backstabbing and small minded psyche of some locals, some of whom hold positions of power that are abused with wanton disregard for the big picture. Who wouldnt want to say a day at the office means a meeeting in London, a press conference in Manila and a contract negotiation in Rio? What a life eh? :)