on Looking for Mr. Good Cow

 

 I'm a lil tied today and can't write just yet. Here's from the CowParade.com - "Looking for Mr. Good Cow"

on a Female Troll

You may find out that your selfdoubt
means nothing was ever there
You can't go forcing something
if it's just not right.
~Green Day

My long time readers and friends know that we occasionally have trolls around here – I keep them like pets - although I discourage the practice for others. Trolls are notoriously annoying and frequently incompetent but often amusing in their own very peculiar ways. Also since trolls are almost always a little loose in the head, they could be a little scary. It’s best to make sure that you do rabies shot on regular basis. I used to have a polar bear troll – now sadly gone, although there have been sightings reported at the odd corners of the internet. It’s a shame really, cause I really, really, really like polar bears.

Anyhow, now I’ve a new troll to deal with. The timing is a little unfortunate since I’ve quite a number of things to juggle around at the moment and I have not as much time to play with little odd wackos. Trolls are always troubled by certain things – relationship issues, childhood trauma, repressed sexual urges, wrong meds – let’s just say that I am not best qualified to deal with these.

I’ve my very own home grown issues to deal with and I’ve not the time or the inclination to deal with your random fuck ups. Trolls should start a blog and leave people alone. They’re only funny on the internet - my ex used to have several real life trolls, we had to put them down after a while and involve the authority.
This time, however, the creature is a ‘she’.

She wrote me a few emails, some sweet, some loony but always incoherent. A little bit of googling and oogling reveals that she is most likely a female, under 30, a virgin, flat chested and more than just slightly stupid. I also found more of her incoherent rants thrown at every direction. Apparently, I’m not the only person she had a thing for - from what I gathered, this particular troll had it with everyone on regular basis. I don't know her in person, and hopefully, never will.

Trolls often follow a certain pattern of madness – I suspect it’s the medication although it could always be any number of things. They’re funny up to a point when they ceased being funny. Then they just became sick.

It pays nothing to try to understand. The whole point about assuming a cyberstalker/vicious troll personality is so that you can be completely mad and hope that nobody would notice, I think. These people are by definition, beyond help. Mine is no exception.

I tried being nice, really. From all my past experiences with trolls - male or female, flat chested or otherwise – being nice never worked with this vicious creatures. They’ll just keep on coming until they hit their head on the wall hard enough. Hopefully, they'll bleed and die, quietly like dogs do.

Very sad, but such is life on the internet.
Like in real life, we’re never short of the sad pathetic little shits.

on Jacko, Shaq and Stoned Marsupials

Michael Jackson died. Weird, innit? Well, maybe not so much.

Farah Fawcett also died. People die all the time.

Shaq moves to Cavs. LeBron and Shaq on the same side? Maybe they’ll get the ring next year.

Friday. Drab. Too many things in my head at the moment, I can’t write much else yet.

You – you strange little person – you think I’ve forgotten. I thought I have.
We would all have an easier time if I had. But I haven’t. Blah.

PS: Weird headline of the week: Stoned wallabies make crop circles. Gotta love the BBC.

on Jakarta Traffic

This morning was another strange morning with freak weather. There's an angry mini tornado of some sort running amok on the way out from Bintaro, the roads leading out were littered with dead trees and various dirt looking things.

As always, the commute got unbearable. It took me two hours to run errands around in the south before getting to the office completely spent and exhausted. And more than just slightly pissed off.

Of all this talk about The Good of the Nation and the Promises for the People, i wonder how the voters in this country could honestly and sincerely hope for their leaders to do anything right - these people can't even get the traffic right in one city - why would anyone ever think that their lofty ideals are anything more than fables in an election season?

The traffic in Tanah Kusir leading out of Bintaro is the only route out of the South - a residential area housing some 3 million people forced to snake their way through pot holes, crazy junctions, trap lights and mini tornadoes. What drives me nuts is that the choke points are seemingly there by design - a series of stupid one ways that seems to be designed solely to destroy the commuters' life.

The Semanggi Junction is the largest and the most important one in this part of the city - right across the road from the Jakarta Police Headquarter - and also the source of all ills for road users. Plasa Semanggi should be demolished right out and removed for fucking up such a critical infrastructure. At least one lane - in a main road in the capital of the country - is constantly taken over by insane buses loading and unloading and generally hanging out with their other crazy buddy drivers - all the while the Police sit on their asses trying to look important issuing tickets to motorbikes. That the whole mess was caused by a single mall and nobody does anything about it is just how pathetic public policy in this country is.

Mall Ambassador in Casablanca is a another mall situated right on another artery just up the road it's another one that should be gutted down for criminal negligence. It's a monstrosity that was placed exactly to cause the worst possible disruptions to the road users.

Jakarta government recently put up this fancy looking long stretches of pedestrian crossing in Semanggi - i have never seen any one use it since it is ridiculously long, wet, dark and open to the elements, you must be slightly stupid to use it - and yet the crossing in front of Ambassador is a constant choke point at all times. How the developers could stand to sell their pirated knockoffs while making life miserable for the untold million citizens of this country, i never understand. I think Jakarta should impose a massive tax on these guys for the inconvenience caused.

Fauzi Bowo, seems happy enough with his town. He goes round every day promising all the wonderful things that will happen but never did. I don't understand how he gets away with putting his smug face across billboard across the city, one in Kuningan is placed to patronize stuck drivers as the Governor announces some international golf competition.

Uh, Sir, YOUR city is tanking toilet!

The traffic problem in Jakarta is already an urgent and immediate crisis - some economic reports put it at 1 point on the GDP growth - and it's quickly becoming more serious and troubling every day. I can get more things done by flying out to Singapore and back to Jakarta in the late evening than trying to drive around this town chasing people in the different corners. To sustain anymore growth, the city needs a serious commitment in the public infrastructure and it won't ever happen without the support of the national government. SBY's lack of urgency in sorting out the problems right before his very eyes is costing a lot of us far too much - all those campaign songs and promises are good and nice but it ring hollows in the face of reality. Traffic sucks, Jakarta sucks.

Government Sucks!

on Alice Visuals

Lots of good films coming up - QT's Basterds and Gordon Gekco 2.0 are top of my list - but this is a super cool one: Tim Burton's first visuals from Alice in Wonderland, with Johnny Depp as Mad Hatter, Ann Hathaway and Helena Bonham Carter.

I've always been a big fan - of Alice, of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp - and i can't think of any better guy to do it. Down the rabbit hole we go :)

 

Tweedledee and Tweedledum

on The Globe, The Post and the Treespotter

Vanity, is my favorite sin
~Devil's Advocate

I just got back from the pub with Master Pubby and probably not completely sober reliable. Nice music though it was a little too quiet. A few cute looking girls but I was mostly about my friends, except for the guy who thought he could do Bed of Roses and look cool at the same time.
I'd been working for some ridiculous 36 hours marathon and needed to get out. That was fun.

...but that’s not what I want to talk about.

I was going to tell you about something but then something else came up and I was told that this blog (!!) was mentioned in The Jakarta Globe – the most highly esteemed of all Indonesian (mostly worthless) papers.
As a consummate reader of English news, I’ve high expectations from The Jakarta Globe, I hope that they would resuscitate somehow, the sad and pathetic state of English reporting from this country. If Indonesia suffers from bad press, that’s mostly due to the crap shit reporting coming out from this country in English language.

The Indonesian press scene is an exciting place to be these days. You can write about jerks jerking off to a girl in a public bus or you can write out the details of your ridiculously fictious relationships, and nobody really gives a damn – that is until some corrupt prosecutor decided to lock you up for blogging shit about them.
In English however, The Jakarta Post dominates the scene and had very little competition. As incumbents always do, they suck. Big time.

I hope The Jakarta Globe will do some good by improving the quality of reporting out of this country. Believe you me, good news are plenty here. The girls are nice, the weathers good and the elections aren’t as deadly as in other places.

So far, I’m a happy reader of both – they suck equally on most days but I think The Globe looks prettier. The Jakarta Post has cute reporters so they’re probably a match there. But The Jakarta Post isn’t on Twitter.
And The Jakarta Post never writes about Treespotter. Yay!
Thanks!


BTW: this is my personal blog. My other blog is here - I'm always sober on that one - probably the one The Globe was talking about.

on Friday Disorder

I'm not drunk, I'm intoxicated
~heard on Friday

The Friday night was one of those random nights when things happened not in the order they’re supposed to. It started off with snacks at Potatohead to wait out the traffic and accidentally ran into some very pleasant company.

We were only sitting at the bar so there were people coming and going before their Friday night socials. There was a guy who works for a cigarette company, a girl from an advertising agency, another girl with a media conglomerate, a computer security consultant, a trust fund baby and a lot of waiters. They’ve a lot of waiters in Potatohead and they’re all really nice and helpful.

Tya looked all sparkly and stunning, I saw her walking in and couldn’t take my eyes off, practically rape staring her from the far end until she noticed and walked over for a polite hello. We lounged and crashed a few times with the same groups of friends and she gives me a mini tremor every time. I asked her out next week. She asked of my new Super Pup and I was sufficiently impressed. She’s the only reason I am still on Facebook. I must be insane. Getting involved with trust fund babies will always get you stuffed.

T got me a cigar which I will probably enjoy better after this hangover. He was heading for Loewy or Dragonfly or both but I politely declined. Feels too much like work to go back to Loewy after hours. We decided on De Hooi in Pondok Indah where a friend of mine was performing. I’ve been going there quite a bit recently and we threw a bigger mess every time so I was careful to keep this one light. The boys came after a while, I had someone to fetch my herbal medication and took the seats out in the garden and enjoyed most of the night in conversation about everything. It wasn’t excessive by most standards except when I ordered cheese burger from McDonald’s – De Hooi don’t serve food past midnight but they let you order in if you’re really hungry. How very considerate.

Things were going the wrong way all night. Not always bad but always unexpected. It was tiring before it was annoying and at some point I guess, I was just nudged over the edge. You don’t really want to push people like me over the edge. I drag everybody down. It was time to put an end to the meaningless pleasantries and do away with the nuisance. Time for some improprieties and we piled up in a big car – this time seven of us – and headed for Kemang. Mr. Frontman rode his big bike all the way, the state he was I was quite impressed that he made it alright. We hit one of the clubs in a half state with the Police blaring. The guys arranged for designated drivers and minders, the rest of us piled up in a corner with a fresh Absolut.

The girls were okay, these clubs in Kemang with their watered drinks and melamine interior practically poured free lubricants for any presentable female under 22 years of age, provided that they’re willing to dance and giggle all night. I was enjoying my company of friends and made some sorry attempts to be nice. We really should’ve just gone to Jaksa and blast it out over there. I didn’t make it there and was detoured to an apartment building instead where the boys abandoned me after I made them wait downstairs with the engine running. I didn’t have my phone with me and they got sick of waiting.

I’m not really telling anything about what happened. For once, too many people who read this blog were there and it’s best to not be too straightforward with internet people. For once though, the one troubled character is the one least on the internet. Maybe now the crazies have gone off line.

By the time we’re up for breakfast it was already a Saturday afternoon in Senayan when mothers took their babies for wine brunch at Portico. I hazard to guess that we had a good time. I’ve things in my head but at the moment, it’s actually hurting. I need a lot of water and a good massage. I want a large bowl of salmon salad. I want a big fast car and I want to go home see the dog.

on Koshka and Mowgli

an ancient scan of Mowgli and the cat family

 

Koshka washing Mowgli's face - they used to do this every night

 

The two of them on the couch

on Koshka

Koshka was Mowgli’s cat. Mowgli died so now she’s living with me. I don’t actually like cats that much but I don’t mind them. In Croydon we had a big fat scary cat named Sebastian that I called Shabby. He liked to play in the snow and I thought that was unusual for a cat. He was always grumpy when he came back in, usually to squeeze me out from my seat near the heater. He kept me company whenever I went out for a smoke.

Heather’s mom had a cat in Germany, a black one. I’ve the picture somewhere but can’t remember the name now. She was really hostile and didn’t like me very much – the cat, not the mother in law. She actually attacked me once. The only other time I defended myself against a cat was when a juvenile lion cub ran after me at the Safari Park (he wanted only to play, I ran).

Anyhow, many years ago, I came home and Heather told me she found a cat in the driveway. A very little tiny baby cat – we called Sophie. Mowgli was about two years old at the time and he didn’t seem to mind the cat. He took a peculiar interest in the cat, very paternal. My dog is similar to me in one respect – we don’t know how to treat women and how to respond to little people. Most of the time, Mowgli just sat and stared at little Sophie. The little movements and curious signs of life fascinated the dog and Mowgli was totally occupied by our newest member of the family.

We had another dog back then, an old bitch called Hobbes. She wasn’t our dog – we adopted her because the owner was going out of the country and she was too old to travel. Plus she had a serious flea problem and that would require extra quarantine and stuff. She was much older and occasionally got into nasty brawls with Mowgli but they had largely made their peace when Sophie arrived. Mowgli was the Prince of the house, Hobbes was the Nasty Aunt and Sophie was the youngest girl yet to be assigned the correct title.

Mowgli learned that the little animal was harmless and posed no threat so he moved with care, almost dread not to harm the fragile creature. Sometimes, when the cat had learned more sophisticated moves (eg. Falling off pillows and the like), Mowgli sounded the alarm and barked to get our attention. Soon enough Mowgli learned that Sophie is much stronger than he thought – she’d also grown bigger – and Mowgli followed her around everywhere, almost like a bodyguard. For most of her life, Sophie was very rarely out of his sight.

Hobbes, on the other hand, rediscovered her maternal instincts (she had puppies before, I think) completely attached herself as the Mother. Hobbes was a big ugly – but adorable – dog and Sophie was a little fragile orange cat and they bonded like mother and daughter. Mowgli got jealous and the two dogs fought a few times over the cat. It was quite hilarious, as well as terribly annoying for us, but they were both great dogs and soon settled accordingly to their respective domains. I showed an obvious preference for Mowgli and Heather was the balancing influence. She also spent more time at home so she probably knew the kids better.

Within a few quick years, Sophie got pregnant and delivered four kittens. Four tiny weeny little kittens and their cranky mother plus the two dogs. All three adult animals wanted to exercise they now-well-trained paternal instincts. Mowgli was the only male and in this, he showed an impressive defect in his women-handling skills. I never know how to treat women, but I never bit any of them in the ass either.

Hobbes was unbelievably maternal. She literally kidnapped the kittens – carrying them in her mouth – in order to keep an eye on the babies. Hobbes wanted the kittens to sleep where she did. The mother hated the idea of her babies sleeping with the Annoying Aunty and Mowgli went bananas because the two girls keep putting the babies in their mouth. It looks like carrying babies in their mouth is a basic instinct exists only in the female. Meanwhile, we had a cat and a dog fighting setting up a transport route between the cats area and Hobbes sector (due to her flea problems, Hobbes was assigned a semi-detached part of the house. The bitch stole the babies, the mother hastily taking them back and Mowgli trying to break the madness. It sounds a lot funnier now.

Sophie died not long after and we had to give away three of the kittens – four kittens and two dogs was too much. Hobbes, Mowgli and Koshka – the Chosen One – stayed with me. Hobbes died a few years ago, then Mowgli a few months ago, and Koshka is the one left. Mowgli never let her out of his sight either except that Koshka goes out a lot. She comes home only when I arrive home and Mowgli always greeted her after me. These days, Koshka’s favourite spot outside is right by his grave. The maids said she always sits there in the morning.

She is growing old and no longer spends so much time outside now. Koshka is a peculiar cat and doesn’t at all like to be stroked or touched – by absolutely no one except Mowgli. She keeps her distance away from me, always within reach, but never touching or leaning on me. She is an avid hunter and she brings me mouse and rats and other rodents for present all the time. Cleaning them is a mess and it is very disgusting to have a dead rat in the living room, I know, but from the cat’s perspective, she’s showing the love.

Anyway, nothing happened with the cat or anything. No loonies with air guns or anything. She was just there the whole time.

One for Attica

You're gorgeous.
...yes. I heard it the first time.

on the Beginning

Some strange things happened but mostly only good things. I had one blackout this week, first time in some eight months. The weird shit only happens when (a) Samantha is around or (b) I’m in Singapore. Sam is leaving soon and I don’t plan to go to Singapore anytime soon so that’s okay.

I know how the story begins. It just came to me somehow on the promenade of the stars in Kowloon. It was full moon, too. I haven’t start writing it down yet, haven’t got around to it but I have it in my head. I also think I know how it ends though I really haven’t gone into it further.

Anyhow, I’ll fill you in later. We’re off for Macao this weekend. We’ve been to Reno and Vegas together, Macao seems like the natural thing to do. Will try not to gamble her away.

Two years ago. At the moment, I just want my life to go back two years. I was beautiful back then. Easier.

Not that i'm complaing now. Was just saying.

Miss her too. Have a good weekend, all.

on Castles of Sand

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
~Pablo Neruda

I hit a new low, even for myself. You gotta admit tho, Jakarta International Airport is a pretty ugly place.

We landed at some ungodly hour, slipped a few notes and got the fast treatment through a special gate but still had to wait for our luggage. We traveled often enough together but not for a good while. Things have changed since and the exposed hall was not the most comfortable of places. I was exhausted by the Singapore heat wave and badly needing a cigarette. She had a brand new passport.

I had jeans and a beige Converse. My hair is at the moment rather long and unkempt. I used to keep my hair long years and years ago and I called this my Jim Morrison look. I probably look like a junkie too. Everyone knows I don’t do drugs so I don’t really care for the mindful stares but custom officials always make me nervous.

She wore a hat and a loose dress, looking more like a disheveled fairy than a princess, both ear buds plugged and oblivious to the world. She pretended to play with her iPhone to keep her face down and not look at anyone. I took a far corner, lit up a cigarette and enjoyed the view. To my disappointment, they’ve closed down the duty free shops by the luggage collection in CGK. There was a sweet looking girl in uniform standing in front of its shut front. The name tag said Nadia or something, she later told me to call her Cindy. She told me they closed down the shops last month and now all the duty free shops were upstairs at the departure lounge. I asked if she could sneak upstairs and conduct a little shopping mission. She was positive about it and I asked for her number. She hesitated for two seconds before taking her phone out and took down my number. I asked her to send me a txt and my phone buzzed two seconds later. Just in time to put my trusty phone back in my pocket one of her uniformed colleague appeared and asked for my luggage tags. I pointed at the girl in the hat and crumpled dress. She had our tags. Cindy took a look at my passport anyway and helped me find my bag. I broke one of the wheels and it stuck for a second but I got it to work and helped Princess with her bags. Our minders arrived and we were taken out quickly enough, neither of us had anything funny. We just looked funny and we paid in cash.

Welcome to the city. A cultured minister from the more illustrious years erected a massive pole depicting tribal group homoerotic sex in the arrival lounge to greet visitors at Jakarta International Airport, our car was waiting beneath it with the air condition on. The driver rolled down my window so I could continue to smoke and she didn’t take the earphones off until we were on the highway. I asked what she thought of the space pen I bought in Singapore and she sneered. I bought it for Chris’ son, the kid just broke his arm and probably could do with presents. She probably thought I wanted kids.

The uniformed girl was from Magelang or something. Some little dot on the map in Central Java. Her daddy was just recently moved up to the capital and found a somewhat more promising career in the big city. She drinks and was curious of the metropolitan debaucheries. Her hair drops down all the way to her waist and she promised to let me have a look at it next time. She had it kept tight above the neckline when on duty. She had cheap two inch heels and clearly badly needing a cultural adjustment.

Princess asked if I was going to ask her out and I just shrugged. She could get me stuff out of the airport and we’ll take it from there. She cracked a laugh and I loved it.

She got bored of the Chemical Brothers and asked if I managed to get the girl out yet. I said not to get her hopes up. Things were totally weird – still are. We call and chat like people do and yet we do nothing that other people do. Like Neruda said, we’re short on love and long on forgetting. Princess asked if the kids were worth the trouble. I told her I never knew the kids, from what I knew, they’re lovely. I changed the subject, it was getting uncomfortable in the car and the traffic was bad. She said if I was going to work on anyone, she ought to be a new name. She wanted me to stick with airport staff and herbal life merchants.

I reached for her little toes and asked that she keep us out of trouble. I don’t want trouble, I can’t afford trouble. I’m not a prince with nine lives. I also had two tickets for Nine Inch Nails ten days before my birthday, in Singapore. She suggested I brought chocolate for my airport lady. I wondered if she was the last 20 year old virgin in Jakarta. The Princess put away her iPhone and put on a pair of hotel slippers. Her little toes hurt. She put some on oil thingy and they now smell nice. I saw her underwear. It took us twenty minutes to get out in Semanggi.

We stopped at the Japanese at the Meridien. She switched the iPhone back on and got tons of smses and put it away. We ordered salmon and talked about it for a good hour til traffic gone away.
She asked if it bothered me, my inability to keep to commitments. Promises and ashes, something Candi said when she told me she slept with someone else. I asked for a different warm sake and she put a pillow on her back. P asked if I thought the girl was for real.

It was all too blinding fast for me, I never quite got the whole thing. At the present memory, everything I remember about Candi isn’t what it really was and I don’t really trust my own head. I didn’t think she meant it. I think she wanted to have fun and I wanted to have fun. I had fun. I just thought I never told her that. There was no making a big deal of it. I’d be sad if I’d ever asked but the truth is, she never really offered anything. There was something about your girl going to bed with another man. Maybe I’m just a conservative. She threw an olive at me for sleeping with her best friend. That was a new low, even for me.

Life do as it pleases, you eat it and drink it or get the fuck out of it but you’re stuck on it for as long as it’s good.I swallowed the olive.

I told her the first part of the story, what happened before everything else happened and everything got so boringly predictive. She was beautiful but she wanted to die and the knight in me wanted to save her. Except that she was never going to die and I could never do save her. We live like everyone else do.

Our waiter knocked on the door and slide in with the credit card slips. She took it and I left some tips. She asked for salads to take home and tickled me while we waited. The hotel called us two taxis, she took the Silver Bird home and I asked for a regular one. I wanted to smoke in the car. I missed my dog and wanted only to go home.



...Have a happy weekend all.

on Election Circus

"They look upon fraud as a greater crime than theft, and therefore seldom fail to punish it with death; for they alledge, that care and vigilante, with a very common understanding, may preserve a man's goods from thieves; but honesty hat no fence against superior cunning: and since it is necessary that there should be a perpetual intercourse of buying and selling, and dealing upon credit; where fraud is permitted or connived at, or hath no Law to punish it, the honest dealer is always undone and the knave gets the advantage."
~Gulliver's Travels, Jonathan Swift

I haven’t got the chance to properly sit and write things down – I’m sure you’re all thankful of that. And yet, there are a number of things worth noting from the last few weeks.

Of course, this year, is mostly about election. The election in Iran is interesting. I have been to Iran twice and I think everyone is just as surprised as I am by the Persian vigor in politics. True that the candidates were screened by an absolute council of theocrats but they’re fighting as doggedly as any other politicians on earth. Very exciting.

The election in Indonesia is also exciting – though all the candidates suffer equally from severe mediocrity. The current libel trial of Prita highlights everything that is wrong with SBY administration. The Attorney General publicly condemned his own prosecutor - later ‘relocated’ to some other remote island. The Minister said it was a gross misinterpretation of the Law. The Parliament demanded a hearing into the matter. Investigation revealed that the parties were materially rewarded for their public positions. And yet the President let this thing dragged on for weeks in the middle of the most important election in the country.

It is probably true that SBY is the most moderate of the others but that was quite frankly, spineless. A man so committed to offend no one, the President often offends everybody else with stupendous indecisiveness. You’d wish that he would at least have some conviction in his own people.

I was in a taxi the other day stuck in the worse ever jam in Jakarta rush hour. My driver, a man in his early thirties with two kids explained he voted for PKS and was probably likely to vote SBY for lack of better alternatives. When I asked for specifics, he thought the President should’ve been louder and tougher to the Malaysian. Putting it succinctly in the most polite manner, the taxi driver explained that he was not demanding a war. He just wished for some dignity. Like most men, he wanted to be proud.

I saw a lot of polls and I genuinely fail to understand why the President is deciding in such ways but I suspect that it is probably a problem of character.

I digress.

Then there was the matter of Miss California and her biblical breasts. She’s been misbehaving again and Donald Trump has had enough of it. Does anyone else find America strange? Speaking of the Christian Right, the Pope upsets the Israelis again and Obama upsets the Israelis further. It seems like everyone upsets the Israelis these days. They need to take anger management class. Also, Britney Spears is going on Circus once again and likely to stop in Australia.

Meanwhile North Korea is playing with real nuke.

The world has gone mad.

Things That Happened While I was in Singapore (Singapore Sucks)

(also known as the night when everyone wants to have sex with me. it happens once every 2000 years. I'm like Jesus on Viagra)

• @ruby1201 got pissed drunk in Potatohead and wishing I was there (she was drunk and prolly don't realize that, but i'm keeping it for posterity). She is going to Paris in July. I will convince her that this is March.
  
• @chibialfa and me are building a dungeon to keep her from going.
• @nonkanya will be my effeminate villainy partner for a World Domination Plan and she will be dressed as a triple layered cake between vanilla and chocolate. She smells tutti frutti. She's also half robots (remember to lubricate).
  
• @aulia twits and blogs LOADING BARS on Apple. Crazy MacHeads are crazy!!

I'm heading to the sex shop in Orchard to buy the necessary equipment tomorrow and will fly back as soon as possible.

PS: IF the people at MUI reads this, they will declare Twitter haram or something. Wait till i get to my World Domination Plan bit.


PSS: I was bookshopping at Borders and TWO (yes, one, and then another one similarly mad and Singaporean) girls chatted me up.
I am blogging this for posterity.

PSSS: Also, totally unrelated to my Jesus-like wonderfulness or Twittering the pleasure of pains but interesting enough to blog: Honking Horn Is Not Constitutionally Protected.

PSSSS: Also, Adriana Lima is a virgin.

on Taking Off

I’ve never liked departure lounges. The ones in Jakarta now have new toilets or at least some of them do. They’re ugly. There’s that feeling like what a fish must’ve feel just as they’re being separated from the general population and being readied for dinner.

There’s always the fit looking ladies with LV bags holding business class passes and lost looking gentlemen carrying too big carry ons. At least in Jakarta there’s always a place to smoke. It’s all very weird and I probably just didn’t get enough sleep.

Something definitely happened on Friday, I now know that much. Somehow wanting to know more, I called from the glass box to find out and discovered as much as I have suspected. It wasn’t surprising, merely slightly unpleasant.

I should probably make this less cryptic but I won’t. I know too many of you now read my nonsensical rants.

Back later, all.

on Friday Notes

Beauty is the first test, there is no place in the world for ugly mathematics.
~Heinrich Heine

I’m weighing on whether to write about what happened on Friday. Something definitely happened. My brain at the moment is trying to convince itself that some of them didn’t. Facebook disagrees. I have complete lack of trust for Facebook privacy tools and really wished that it hadn’t been invented in the first place. Facebook sucks.

Something did happen on Friday cause otherwise I wouldn’t be trying so hard ignoring it. Frankly, I hate myself most when things like this happen because this is when I know exactly what will happen next. Predeterminism sucks.

The good thing is I know I will be away for a while so whatever it is that will happen will not happen today, or indeed this week. It will probably happen during the second week of June which is generally the best time for things to happen, if any were to happen. Very weird way of looking at things, I know. It’s always good to know when things happen. Even if it sucks.

I won’t have any more lectures about what I should or should not do. I don’t believe in rules anymore. Rules suck.

Recent Questions to Treespotting (Proof Internet People Are Mad)

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on Morning Glory

Yeah I'm walking to the sound of my favorite tune
Tomorrow doesn't know what it doesn't know too soon
~(What's the Story) Morning Glory, Oasis


She stood by the window. Hair cropped to the ears, her smiles in shadow. She looked pretty.
I’d like to think that she was smiling at me but she probably wasn’t. The sun was directly behind her and I saw little of her face. There wasn’t a song but I would’ve wanted to have Oasis demanding the story to the morning glory. I just stared.

She was lost. The future was behind her and her past was catching up. She wanted a world where nobody knows and a place where nobody sees. She went to New York City. I was to make the journey more pleasant.

She wasn’t naked but I was wishing that she was. She knew she was pretty and was not shy about it. By mere presence, she gave me a stiff erection but pretended not to notice.
I was naked in a fresh bed and left to stare at her every move, wearing only white in a post coitus comatose.

The morning was unreal. The whole thing was unreal. She was unreal.

The words she spoke I did not understand.
The world she lived I was not familiar with.
It was almost like one was in love.

It probably was.