April 29, 2005


As expected, I'm having a shitload of fun in WoW. This game gives a whole new meaning to the term 'vastness'. It's incomprehensibly huge. The downside is I have to walk everywhere, so that sucks. I am now a level 19 Undead warrior, who's really petite. That makes me less menacing than, say, a tauren warrior (screenshots tomorrow, or sometime later). On the upside that's a lifelong dream fulfilled (the petiteness, not the menacingness).

Unfortunately, I can't brag, because Lance and Arion collectively babysat me for more than 10 of my levels. I have become the kind of person I hate the most in an MMORPG: the useless bugger who tags along and leeches exp. And money. And loot.

Oh well, I can only hang once, so I might as well milk it for all it's worth.

In the process of my 19 levels, I have also discovered a few things about myself that I never knew before.

I can't type for shit when I'm doing something else (like walking). This is not new, cos I know I can't multitask. I just didn't realise how utterly bad I was at it. :( I'm also very incompetent when I'm with someone whom I know will protect me. It's at situations like this that I do stupid things like walk too close to aggressive monsters, charge a bunch of fish people (and die), forget what I need to fulfill my quests, get lost in a new city, etc. By the way, someone please remind me to repair my weapons and armour before they break, thanks. :)

As per usual, I'll end with a funny story. In WoW, there're living things you can sit on that'll transport you from one place to another. In different locations, you sit on different animals, for example in the Undead town (me me me!!) you ride bats, and in the Tauren area you ride chimeras. I have no idea how many types of animals there are because those are the only two places I've been to. :p

Anyway, the place these animals are kept by the keeper is called a windrider's platform. Or something like that. Basically it's one seriously tall tower you have to run up, and on top there'll be this person you talk to, just to let him know where you'll be flying. On one such ocassion, I fell off the platform.

Now that doesn't sound very funny, but let me explain. There're some very impatient people who like to jump off platforms, because no one likes stairs. There's no alternative when you're going up, cos no one can jump that high, and flying hasn't been implemented yet. But going down, there's when you see completely normal players go suicidal.

Personally, I like to yell "GERONIMO!!" before doing the leap of faith (and end up with roughly half of my hp left). Okay, back to the story. You have people jumping off platforms, which denotes intention, but never people falling off them, because no one is so bloody ham-fisted that they can't maneuver the directional keys to avoid falling off a platform wide enough for 5 people to stand on at the same time.

To make it worse, it was my first time in a new city, hence I had no idea WTF I was. So Arion, who was on babysitting duty that day, jumped down right after me. Only I didn't realise he jumped down, and I was too busy adjusting camera angles to try and find the tower, resulting in him having to scream at me three times before I heard him.

I'm as much of a klutz in real life as I am in a game, boohoo. I hope I provided, at the very least, comic relief.

I actually took loads of screeenshots, but I'm too lazy to convert them to jpeg. Also, there will be a real update tomorrow because Knight's playing. Three cheers for the three musketeers! Five if you include the really old guys. :)

Again, words cannot describe the gratitude I feel towards the people who've helped me out so much. Arion, Lance, Frosty and Blade, who saved my life once when I was GBed.

April 27, 2005

Why can't I reload my Smart Tag when I'm passing Kesas Highway toll booths?

The first thing they teach us in Business school is Planning. Chapter 2, right after Introduction, which is not a bloody waste of time, contrary to popular belief. Any idiot knows that to do something correctly, you must have some semblance of planning. Even I , the Queen of Winging It (and lately the Queen of Leeching Stuff) understand the importance of planning.

It's bloody simple, really. If scientists can calculate this, right down to the year, how much brain power do you need to guess, just fucking guess, that the people who use Smart Tag on the Kesas Highway would eventually run out of credit, and would like to reload their Smart Tags when they're passing the tollbooths ON Kesas instead of going to the next nearest reload booth on the Seremban Highway?

At times like this, I can't help but think that there's a test they make everyone take before someone's allowed to hold a position of authority, where their decision-making skills would be tested daily, and where those skills would have great ramifications in the daily lives of us lowly peons. Then, after everyone has submitted their test results, the graders do something that directly contradicts the way schools and universities grade papers: they throw out scores higher than 40 and pick people who score below that to fill out the positions.

Don't ask me why, I don't know. I'm still trying to understand how something so logical could have escaped the minds of EVERYONE involved in making Touch n Go the only tag thingy to use in the whole of Malaysia. I don't care if the concessionaires can't agree on a suitable cut of the profits, I don't care if someone didn't get his kickbacks, I just don't care. The whole point of using one single tag thingy is for 'the good of the people' or 'the convenience of taxpayers'.

I am not convenienced.

So while I am fuming and growing wrinkles on something that should have been thought out beforehand, I open the newspapers and I see this.

Newsflash, darlings. Apologies mean ABSOLUTELY NOTHING if you have to ask for it. If the guy's truly sorry, he wouldn't repeat the mistake again, and it's understood that the issue is over. Water under the bridge. The past. It will never be brought up again. Let go, move on. It's been 60 years, how long do you wanna keep harping on the same thing over and over again?

I would actually have more respect for our MPs if they'd raised this issue before Japan apologised to China. What a bunch of wimps.

April 25, 2005

People I need to thank

I believe people will generally be nice to me if I be nice to them first.

Today in WoW I met a few people who gave me stuff and buffed me in return for nothing. I feel so bad for messing up my comm channels and not saying thanks. Horde may be fugly, but deep down they're all marshmallows. *grins*

The other day in KLCC while I was buying a mango citrus tea blend from Starbucks, the guy at the counter chatted with me while I was waiting for my order, and even called me back to give me one of those loyalty card thingies and stamped it three times (I only bought 1 drink).

Yesterday, I was at APIIT (yes, I risked sanity and found that the place was actually quite fun. Figures it'd get better after I left, bleh) watching my bro play CS. There was actually a tourney going on, but I decided not to stand alone amidst black-clad guys. Anyway, the guy playing next to my bro left his game, got up and carried a chair over for me to sit on, saying, "Have a seat. You don't have to stand."

Enough about Frosty already. He gave me 2 gold ingame. That's a heck lot when you consider 100 copper = 1 silver, and 100 silver = 1 gold.

Blade (Frosty's friend) sent me a bag, and since I'm a girl there's no such thing as too many bags. He also sent me a sword and some armour.

Arion spent the better part of an hour explaining WoW terms to me, and though it was a Tuesday night I'm sure there were better and less boring stuff he could've done than explain farming and dungeons.

Lance practically did all my quests for me yesterday night, cos I was laggy and dared not venture into aggro areas. He also gave me shitloads of stuff, some of which I accidentally sold because I'm a klutz. :(

Finally, a big big BIG shoutout to Knight, because without his benevolence and generosity, I would not even BE in WoW in the first place. You see, I'm leeching on his account.

As if that wasn't enough generosity to last at least a few good years, Knight has decided to top it all off by offering to host me for free. I just have to decide on a domain. I've also had offers of technical assistance from Lance and Knight, and even Trak and Elcap. Thank you all for being nice. :)

As you've probably deduced from this post, I am the worst kind of MMORPG player. I am a Monster Leech. In fact, I think I'll change my name to the Lich Queen, har har har.


Today, I met the legendary elite buaya Frostheart, the guy Knight warned me never to meet because he was treacherous, very treacherous. I'm glad to report that I survived the encounter with my virtue intact, and that Frosty was actually gracious and kind enough to travel to Sunway Pyramid to drop me his copy of WoW, and then travel back to his house to continue his game.

OMG the playboy-poetic-heartbreaker image is almost down the drain, uncle. But then again maybe that's the way he lures innocent little girlies like me down a path of sin and debauchery.

So, dudes and dudettes, this will be what I'll be playing from now on.

If you see me online and I don't reply you, this is the reason why. I'm already a level 6 Undead warrior, and the reason I'm out here typing this is because I clocked a latency of 1698!!

I'll be going in to try my luck again, so cya around.

April 24, 2005

Back from the Land of Karaoke Hell

I attended my mom's brother's wife's mother's birthday party tonight. Digest that first. Okay? Well, I attended the birthday party, and for the life of me I have no idea why people choose to throw birthday parties in Chinese restaurants. In Serdang, no less, The Land of Karaoke Hell.

"Why 'The Land of Karaoke Hell' though?" you ask.

Time for another history lesson, standard fixture in any authentic Saffron post. I once had the misforune of attending a wedding dinner in a Chinese restaurant in Serdang, complete with the whole Let's Sing Bad Songs From The 60s karaoke theme. That's not so bad, right? The difference though, is the fact that they cranked up the karaoke machine even before all the guests have arrived. Maybe some asshat thought he/she was being smart and decided to do a pre-dinner show. Well, my dears, it was a pre-dinner show gone horribly, horribly, horribly wrong.

I was near tears even before the dinner began, and they were not tears of joy for the happy couple. I felt a great rage and wanted to kill them, slowly and painfully, cos I don't think even Abu Graib used torture devices so cunningly.

Thankfully, tonight was easier, meaning they started the karaoke session at the 4th dish or thereabouts. Unfortunately, the dishes started slowing from that point onwards, probably because they wanted to let people sing, which really sucked for the rest of us non-singing guests, because all we wanted to do was finish and get the heck out of there as fast as humanly possible.

Karaoke sets aren't really expensive, if you really wanna sing that badly, go get a set and stop torturing other people's eardrums. To make the situation worse, the sound crew (or whatever sorry excuse of a sound crew tonight) had the volume up at max. There was virtually no bass, it was all high-pitch screeching. I actually got a headache at one point, cos it was so goddamned loud, bloody hell. There's really no winning in the hall, cos there was a huge ass chandelier in the middle and wall-mounted speakers on the sides, so you're dead no matter where you sit.

I don't know what it is with aunties and uncles who like to sing in public. I mean, do they have no sense of what they sound like? If a lifetime of singing in the bathroom will create people like them who have delusions of singing grandeur, by god, I will stopping all my Saturday Night Fever moves when I'm shampooing my hair, cos I do NOT want to hobble on stage when I'm 70 and sing Tian Mi Mi.

I always thought weddings and, in tonight's case, birthdays, are supposed to be happy times. For the life of me I don't get how subjecting people to 200 decibels of caterwauling is going to make any of your guests happy. In the end, I took to stealing a sip of my bro's liquor whenver it got too much, and then alternating with a sip of my mom's Sprite, cos I'm a wuss and can't take liquor by itself.

In the end the Oaf and I spent night playing American Idol judges. Unfortunately, we were both Simon Cowell on crack, which resulted in uproarious laughter from people sitting at our table. Hey, you burst my eardrums, I make fun of you in public. I still got the shit end of the stick. :p


Chandelier pic from here.

April 21, 2005

dog mauls girl, takes off arm and half of torso

I was halfway through my post when I suddenly remembered the spate of dog attacks on kiddies recently, and thought that writing this in a news column style might not be in the best taste. So I deleted it all, and that's half an hour of my life gone. :p

Yeah, I'm slow. Why? Read the title again, thanks. Psst, I'm the girl, not the dog.

Okay, onwards. Over the years, there were times when I was required to sacrifice personal interests to contribute something back to the family in return for them clothing, feeding and loving me over the past 22 years. Today was such a day. My granma sent me downstairs, across a road, up some rickety stairs and into the sundry shop to buy some eggs.

Because I just woke up from a nap (I'm on a break, napping at irregular times is a perk!) I decided some exercise would be good for me. After grabbing my wallet, I bent down to grab my slippers from the shoe rack and came up breathless. Ooh, not a good sign. Note to self: get off lazy ass and start exercising so I don't die by the time I'm 40.

If I'm fated to die at 40 I would sooo regret the time I spent on the treadmill.

So off I went, happily singing to myself while swinging my wallet in my hand. I've developed a nasty little habit of singing to myself after my stint as Saffron the Super Salesgirl, and I suspect it was due to extreme boredom. Little did I know that might have sealed my fate today.

I went downstairs with nothing out of the ordinary happening to me. Crossed the road without being honked at, thank you. Went up the rickety stairs and didn't fall into the drain. Bought the eggs while chatting with the store owner for a while. Tried to talk him into giving me a free egg since I bought a dozen, but he was a crafty little man who's an expert in his field, so my cheapskate attempt was foiled. Bought an ice-cream cone as well cos it's been ages since I've had any.

As I was stepping off the rickety stairs, I was licking the cone, swinging the bagful of eggs (very carefully) and singing to myself, when I met The Behemoth.

Now generally, I'm not scared of one dog. Heck, I'm a little doggie myself, and I figured if it was going to bite me, well, I have teeth, I'll bite it right back. This one though, this one was black with big nasty yellow teeth, and I can just bet you he (I spied balls swinging around) chomps through the neighbourhood kids for lunch. Or just for fun, cos you never really know with dogs. Did I mention it was also behemothic? Cos it was. Behemothic.

In the tune of bad-timing ruling my life, I wasn't armed with a stick or an umbrella that would be of some help to me in situations like this. Worse, I was wearing a Mickey t-shirt and shorts, so if he decided to bite it would go right through to the bone. Much worse, I was wearing big chunky slippers that makes my feet look small, but I can't run for shit in them. Worst of all though, was the knowledge that you can never outrun or outbite a Behemoth that has 4 legs and mandibles the size of my pinky finger.


A while later I realised I was waving my ice-cream at the Behemoth like it was some kind of melting baton. A longer while later it came to me that maybe the dog was just hungry. If I throw the eggs at him they might hit him so hard that he thought I was attacking him, and scenes of a mangled and bleeding body flashed through my mind. I wanted to die pretty, but most importantly, I wanted to die painlessly.

Sadly, my dream was never fulfilled. The dog attacked me and took off my arm. And while I was screaming and the blood was gushing out of the hole where my appendage used to be, he decided that it would be fun to gnaw a chunk out of my torso while he was at it. And he did.

Now I'm typing with one hand and no liver. :(

April 20, 2005

Background: My friend is interning at a rather prominent advertising firm, who's not paying her an allowance for anything. She spends an average of RM15 a day on food, petrol and parking. She also wants to quit, but apparently this internship counts as her practical, which is worth 4 credit hours, which we were supposed to do in semester 4, after we've taken our specialisation subjects, not before. I think someone got shafted.

It's her second week interning now, and she's screaming bloody murder. She has 6 more weeks to go, and was saying she wouldn't make it. While chatting...

Saffron: i think you will die lor
Saffron: can tell them you wanna quit?
Wei Wei: but what is my valid reason??
Wei Wei: then somemore
Wei Wei: if they need to talk to parents leh??
Wei Wei: then dunno wat will tengku think also
Wei Wei: aih
Wei Wei: eh
Wei Wei: if i said accident
Wei Wei: got no MC
Wei Wei: they need MC i think
Saffron: you run out and let a car knock you down la
Saffron: see how
Wei Wei: wah sei
Wei Wei: need ah??
Wei Wei: later i die how??
Wei Wei: i jz wanna get hurt
Wei Wei: not die
Wei Wei: wahahhaha
Wei Wei: not my time yet!!
Saffron: erm...let motorbike hit you la then
Saffron: dun pick car
Wei Wei: i still wanna enjoy life.....appreciate a lot of things
Wei Wei: wahaahahaha
Saffron: or if you pick car, pick the kancil in small road
Saffron: dun pik volvo or benz
Wei Wei: hhahahahhaah
Saffron: hahaha, eh, you blog about how I tried to kill you la
Wei Wei: u ah!!!
Wei Wei: hahaha
Wei Wei: ive u da credit to go n blog abt it

So, tonight's blog. Actually, I was writing another blogpost about dogs when Opera closed. I never take advice and compose in notepad first, and I don't feel like re-writing the same thing again, so this is sort of a filler post.

April 19, 2005

3 in 1

My Streamyx really conked. Called the helpline, did a whole shitload of pushing, plugging and restarting, filed a report and the guy said he would get back to us in 3 working days.

Obviously, I have my net back now. It's really handy to have an inside man in Streamyx. Foreigners who're thinking of moving to Malaysia can pick up a clue from this blogpost. Nothing ever gets done unless you're famous, you're a datuk, or you know someone inside.

Malaysia Boleh indeed, bleah.

To remove the distaste, I will blog about something nice. Just now while I was looking for pictures of Hugh Jackman, my brother walked over, stood behind and gave me a massage.

I love massages. *grins*

Of course, the reason for that massage may very well have been due to the fact that I wrote his entire ad copy (and it's a pretty good one, if I may say so myself) for him, and thus saved him a lot of work, but it's nice that he's so appreciative.

Ho ho.

Okay, now to balance things, my results are out. We can check them on the USM website, but it doesn't tell me anything apart from the fact that I've passed all my subjects. No grades, nada. *sigh*

The next few days are going to be very worrisome. I'll be greedy and say I hope I don't get any Cs, but I'm expecting at least 1. *sigh*

April 18, 2005


...is cranky. Took me half an hour to load 1 page yesterday night. It's getting better now but it chokes up occasionally. Let's see how long it takes to get this posted.

April 17, 2005

Bonsai Kitten! Oh The Horror!!

I'm not really tall, I'm only 4'8".
I am not a gamer, I just pretend to be one.
I never actually went to Little Genting.
These are actually my legs.

Can you tell which part is true and which part isn't?

Now, more importantly, does it make a difference?

Writing is a creative process. There's always an element of imagination and invention involved if you want to write interesting pieces and not just report dry facts. If you don't know me personally, or don't make an effort to know me personally, I'm not going to explain it to you.

I'm the most gullible person around (I believed Carnage when he said he was leaving, all 6 times, and my friends never play April's Fool jokes on me because I always fall for it, so there's no fun in tricking me), but I am of the opinion that some blogs are too fantastic to be true.

That's actually a snap judgement, but heck.

Finally, are you one of the 3030 people who believed this?



About an hour ago I was stranded in the Bukit Bintang area because the lout I was with got too inebriated to drive us home. What kind of blockheaded Ah-Bengish idiot gets wasted to this extent before 2am? That's not rhetorical, btw. Just come up with the worst names that you can. He has really thick skin. :p

So, in the cool night air, with the raucous sounds of merriment and drunken debauchery coming from the the Pusat Maksiat behind me, I stood there, on the pavement outside, with an intoxicated baboon next to me. An intoxicated, drooling baboon, who was, get this, crying about his ex-girlfriend.

I think all the italics just killed me.

Thankfully I had a nice little buzz going from all the (free) beer, or else I swear on everything green and pretty that I would have commited bloody murder, right there and then.

What a fantastic way to spend the Saturday night. *rolls eyes*

The only thing I had going for me was free beer. For some reason it puts me in a good mood. Heh, free beer, whoohoo! Hmm, now that I think of it, I'm thankful that the bugger didn't throw up on me. That would've really sucked.

Anyway, in the end, I managed to SOS someone to come pick me up. We all went for a drink (to get rid of the putrid fumes and the slight high-ness) and some supper, while the wasted lunk of ham snored (very loudly, no doubt) in the car. Hmm, now that I think of it, I'm thankful the bugger didn't throw up in there.

It would've sucked for GT (car owner), heheh.

So, to recap, never bring up sordid past relationships when you're with a guy. Or, if you wanna do it, do it in a place where there's no ready supply of alcohol, or you're really just screwing yourself over. Lesson number 2: never go drinking with guys. It's like, "Look ma, no hands!" followed by a crash. Or "I promise I'll pull out," and hello bun in the oven. This time, it's "I swear I won't get drunk tonight," followed by projectile vomitting.


On a final note, thanks for answering the SOS, babe. Love ya! :)

On a serious note, standing alone outside pubs and bars definitely does not feel safe. That night, I trusted the lout, and therefore did not have my usual arsenal of weapons (umbrella, pepper spray, craft knife, assorted rubber bands, water bottle etc) with me cos I didn't bring my big bag along.

I know better now!!!

April 16, 2005

Thimbles galore!

I've been thinking.

That line is a classic example of how to prepare your readers for what is an abnormally profound and thoughtful post. Or, if your readers are smarter than the average thimble, they'll know that the author doesn't usually exercise her brain cells very much.

Anyway, before I digress further, I've always had a problem with the way people see me, mostly because what they see and who I am don't really gel. Of course, I'm not a passive participant, so maybe I'm doing something that creates that false perception.

I found out some time ago that a lot of people thought I was lansi, because I'm tall, hence I look down on people, I don't smile a lot, and most importantly, I seldom initate conversations. I remember feeling shocked because I thought of myself as, well, not quite humble, but not quite lansi either. So I went and asked my best friend if she thought I was lansi when we first met, and she said yes. Then I went around and asked some other friends who don't know me that well, and they answered in the affirmative too.

Whoa, news to me. I didn't change so much from secondary school, so I think I still give off that lansi vibe. But who cares, you insignificant little twerps. *grins*

There're not a lot of things I did that I can be really proud of. After all, I'm 22 going on 23, I still live with my parents, I'm not self-sustainable (I need people to feed me and give me money), I don't like responsibility, I don't score straight As, I haven't achieved anything that would make my parents really proud of me (like be a doctor or win a Pulitzer), and I do things that our stupid moral textbook specifically told us not to do. I don't usually feel guilty about it either. :p

Although I don't like responsibility, I've always thought that I'm the kind of person who does what is required of me when I am given a particular responsibility. That's why I generally think things through before accepting any position, because I don't want to quit halfway. I also don't think I'm the type who'll push blame to others, principally because I hate it when other people do that. I also don't like hypocrites, so I try not to be one myself.

Then again sometimes the way I see myself and the way others see me can be on totally opposite ends of the spectrum. Back in secondary school, I'd worry and worry about this, because I don't like it when people have a misconception about me. Now that I'm older, I realise that a lot of things are out of my control. All I can do is try to explain it the way I see it, but if that doesn't work, then they'll have an opinion about me that I disagree with, and let's leave it at that.

Parallel Lines was removed because I edited it, and then felt that I shouldn't have edited it, but the original draft was gone and I couldn't let the edited one stay in place.

The title is in no way meant to be offensive, hoho. I just like the word 'galore' today. If you can manage to come up with a better title that doesn't sound pretentious, by all means go ahead. I'll give credit where credit is due. :)

Airing dirty linen in public

Writing personal blogposts directed at a particular person has never been my style, but since you wanted to make this public, I can play along. I take offense at the implication that I left without saying goodbye, so here's the chat log, verbatim. For those of you who care to be embroiled in this little bitch fest, judge for yourselves.

Pink font belongs to Seanna. Black font is mine.

Seanna: hi
Saffron: hello
Seanna: you won't believe this
Seanna: but i just woke up like 1 minute ago

Saffron: spectacular
Saffron: enjoying your hols, I see

Seanna: huh?
Seanna: no no
Seanna: you got it wrong
Seanna: i slept earlier
Seanna: i woke up
Seanna: wondered, is anybody online
Seanna: err
Seanna: wait
Seanna: slear stuff my dad left on my desktop
Seanna: clear*
Seanna: ah
Seanna: done

Saffron: ok
Seanna: then popyou come on
Seanna: yay, i'm not alone anymore

Saffron: eh, not in a talking mood la, cya around, ok?
Seanna: now that i'm done rambling, how are you?
Seanna: ah
Seanna: no problem

At this point I closed the chat window.

Seanna: just
Seanna: that night when you left for a while with the "brb", was that about the cat?

Saffron: I don;t remember
Seanna: oh
Seanna: checking email?
Seanna: got the video clip i sent you?

Saffron: Seanna, I don;t want to talk tonight, ok?
Saffron: cya around

Seanna: okay
Seanna: just take a look at the video clip i sent you, okay?

Saffron: ok, thanks. :)
Seanna: you'll love it
Seanna: it's no problem
Seanna: :)
Seanna: nite...

At this point, the chat window was closed again.

Seanna: ...
Saffron: what?
Seanna: i don't even get wished back...
Seanna: not that i blame you, since you said you're not in a talking mood... i just had to say this, so don't mind me...
Seanna: just saying it

Saffron: can you at least respect the fact that I don;t feel like talking?
Seanna: i know
Saffron: I listen to you when you talk, despite the fact that sometimes I don't like to have problems heaped on me
Saffron: now you're bugging me because I didn;t wish you goodnight?

Seanna: i'm just saying it, you don't have to even read it
Saffron: then why say it?
Saffron: why say it at all?

Seanna: i dunno... i do that sometimes when people leave suddenly
Saffron: I told you twice I wasn't in a talking mood
Seanna: i guess it's my way of making up for it
Saffron: that's called 'suddenly'?
Seanna: i talk to this air
Seanna: thin*

Saffron: you should really try not to be so selfish and actually LISTEN to other people for a change
Saffron: thw world does not revolve around you

Seanna: i wasn't
Saffron: good night
Saffron: I hope you're happy now

Seanna: i was just talking to thin air


Was I harsh? Yes. Did I leave without saying goodbye? NO I DID NOT. The next time you're feeling bad/lonely/depressed/whatever don't try to lay the blame on me. I haven't been in a good mood in the past few days. To my credit, I warn people beforehand if I'm feeling moody, so you poke me at your own risk.

April 15, 2005

Parallel Lines

...will never meet.

Entry has been removed.

What's your name, darleng?

No, don't tell me, I don't want to know. It's just that I've been chatting with Res and suddenly had an inspiration to blog!

The previous filler post can be thus disregarded, but still, think about the little snippet, ok?

People with names that should be spelled with an 'i' but are, for some reason, spelled with an 'e' are the people who get screwed over the most. Didn't understand that sentence, did you? Being me, there will always be examples to the rescue!

Wai Ting Wai Teng
Ai Ling Ai Leng
Kien Sing Kien Seng
Cheng Ming Cheng Meng
Dar Ling Dar Len...oops.

Obviously, I am one of these people who get screwed over. The source of all this screwing could be the fact that your parents can't spell, your parents tried to be creative, or your parents had siblings who can't spell/tried to be creative. Either way, the common trend here is parents.

Uhh, hi mom!

My case is actually worse, because my middle name should be spelled with 2 'e's, but it is spelled with an 'i' instead. I'll be lucky if people spell one of my names wrongly (Res got both wrong, haha).

This entry obviously doesn't make any sense. It's a bad filler post to replace the previous filler post.

On a sidenote, there will be a Warcraft Tourney at APIIT's TPM campus on the 23rd of April. For more information, erm, actually I don't have more information, but I know there will be prizes, there will be many teams, and there will be a lineup of guys there waiting to pass my inspection because Suanie promised me so.

There will be further updates when I get more information. I can't believe I'm actually promoting a place that took my spleen. *shakes head* It's all Suanie's fault. ;)

April 14, 2005

Random Snippets of Conversation

"What kinda guy do you want?"

"Someone who treats me the way I treat him."

Not a bad way to go, actually.

Mystery of the Year

So I was sitting here contemplating a proposal and trying to understand tech jargon, when I heard some faint mews. "Stupid cats mating again..." thought I, and went back to chatting.

Suddenly, I spied something moving underneath my desk. Holy cow it was a freaking cat! Obviously, I made like a dog and shooed it away. The cat pretended to be Zhang Ziyi in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon and leaped gracefully into the sitting room and into the kitchen. At least, there's where I think it went, cos it was really too fast for me to see.

Naturally, because I know a cat has claws, I went to hunt for the stick that His Royal Oafness plays with when he gets home from college. Because he's playing Dynasty Warriors (*Cow Pee! Cow Pee!), he likes to pretend he's Guan Yu, complete with whooshing sounds.

In the interests of my general health and wellbeing, I totally made that last paragraph up. I swear. Anyway, I tried to look for the stick, but apparently Guan Yu took it to bed with him, so I am equipped with nothing against fangs and claws.

In ideal circumstances, you want to be wearing thick dog bite-proof pants and a jacket as well as electrocution-proof gloves when you're hunting cats. Unfortunately, I was clad in a Mickey t-shirt and boxers, leaving my legs exposed to the ferocious feline. In desperation, I grabbed a puny little hangar plastic hangar that would do nothing to protect me if the stupid cat jumps at me, claws tracted.

Still, I went into the kitchen to check. I looked on top of cupboards, underneath cupboards, behind the rice container, underneath the stove. Nada. No trace of the cat. I thought maybe it didn't go into the kitchen. So I checked the bathroom, under the sofa, behind the TV shelf, behind the bookcases. Still nothing.

Now, a bit of info. I live pretty high up in a flat, and the doors and windows were all closed (I checked after the cat made like a ninja and disappeared :p). So now I have a few pressing questions.
  1. If all the doors and windows were closed, where did the cat come from?
  2. If all the doors and windows were closed, where did it go?
    and more importantly,
  3. Did I hallucinate the whole incident?
Maybe I just need to sleep.

*If you get the reference you win a cookie!!

To Arion

You are now officially an Old Guy.

April 13, 2005

How to completely shrivel a guy's balls in 15 minutes

Arion is forcing me to listen to some mushy bittersweet love song. In an attempt to fob him off, I will write another embarassing post about myself.

Back in the good old days when I was still in Form 4, boys and girls in school uniforms were really cute and innocent. There was to be no holding of hands nor touching of other miscellaneous bodyparts until the crucial question has been popped and answered in the affirmative. That crucial question is, "Ah Lian, will you be my lub lub?"

OMFG I can't believe I actually typed that out.

Of course, before you jump the gun and call me sexist with the Ah Lian statement, I'll have you know I was, and am still, the proud owner of two rather harsh rejections over the course of my short life.

My nerve-tingling Ah Lian moment occured in the Coffee Bean outlet in BB Plaza. Back then, my ex and I had this habit of exchanging novels to read. I suspect that was just a very Sek Kin-ish plot to draw my interest, because I'm nothing if not a bookworm. (Evidence here)

Anyway, I remember the book he promised to lend me was about the Nan Jing Massacre, and I was supposed to read it when I got home. I would like to take the opportunity to remind everyone else that if you decide to copy this kao lui tactic, please choose a book that does not invoke images of rape, pillage and mutilation of human bodies k thx.

On that fateful day, however, my itchy hands decided to play with the book when he was fiddling with his handphone, and there was a piece of cardboard slipped in between the pages. At first, I thought it was his bookmark and wanted to return it to him, but when I turned it over it had my name on it, so naturally I kept reading. It was some sort of love poem.

After I read it, I took one look at him and I knew I blew his plans wide open. I can't help it, it's a natural-born talent that I have. Anyway, being the usual speak-before-I-think person that I was back then, I asked him, "What's this?"

At this point, it was out of sheer politeness that he didn't grab me by the scruff of my collar and shake me awake, because if there was a Stupidest Question in the World to ask, that was the winner.

He blushed. I remember thinking that it was really cute, but then he spoiled the moment by throwing the ball back into my court when he asked me if I would be his girlfriend. Like, for real.

Fuiyo, panic. It's kinda weird, cos it wasn't like I didn't know he was going to ask me that, not after the poem I just read. But I still panicked. It's really a wonder how I manage to ace my presentations. :p

Anyway, in the vein of the usual weirdness which I usually deal with things, I reacted to his question in a way that would have completely shriveled up the balls of a lesser man.

I laughed.

Out loud.

In a very crowded Coffee Bean outlet during lunch time.

And I didn't stop.


I think it was a laughing fit, cos I get those a lot. My Psych notes say that people deal with stress and traumatic situations very differently, though none of the case studies mentioned stated 'laughing fit' as a possible reaction, mainly because I think they were surveying sane people.

The guy just sat there and looked at me, and he didn't know what to say. Or maybe he was just too polite to jump out of his chair and put as much distance between us as humanly possible. I knew I was being very rude, and I knew I should stop, but you know sometimes when you're laughing and you want to stop, but the harder you want to the harder you laugh? Jesus, I really need help.

After 15 minutes passed (this is just a guesstimate, it could very well have been longer), I said I needed to go to the loo, and he walked me there and waited outside.

Once safely locked behind a dirty loo door, I swore at myself. How stupid can I be? I really really liked him a lot, and it appears that he likes me too, and I go and sabotage myself. I mean, seriously. A guy just wrote a mushy poem, elected to make himself as vulnerable as anyone can make themselves, and what do I do to him? I laugh in his face and I didn't stop. There're a lot of things I've done that I'm not proud of, but this is possibly the one I feel really really bad about.

So, now for the ending.

When I walked out of the loo, surprise surprise, he was still standing outside in the corridor, alongside all the other boyfriends who were waiting for their girlfriends to finish their peeing. As we walked back out to the main complex, he said, "Can you forget that I asked you to be my girlfriend and go back to being friends?"

How do I convey how I felt at the moment? I felt really, really, REALLY bad. Then, on an impulse, I slipped my hand into his, squeezed it once, and, I'm sorry for using this cliche, his face broke into a smile so wide it made me feel, well, many things. Relief that he still wants this mental bitch to be his girlfriend, happy because I didn't screw up his life, and power because I had the capacity to affect him like this.

We were happily boyfriend-girlfriend throughout the rest of our secondary school life. During that period, I was very, very nice to him. *grins* Happy ending. :)

Well, almost. After school, we maintained a long-distance relationship for half a year before breaking off, but we still keep in contact via email and he's been sending me greeting cards since then. I guess he didn't hate me.

April 12, 2005


Now that I've gotten all that shit out of my system, I just realised that I have MUET test somewhere in April, and I have no idea what the format is like. :(

I need a Band 4 to avoid resitting, and apparently the stupid oral is damn complicated. You don't talk, they tolak markah. You talk too much, they tolak markah also.


Off to play The Sims.

Creaking doors

Skip this if you're not in the mood to be assaulted by blocks of text. That's the disclaimer.

Recently, I've been reading some blogs about insecurity, forging new paths, change, relationships, mother-in-laws and Terri Schiavo. They're not necessarily related, but my mind links stuff together sometimes in a totally weird way.

I don't like being disappointed (who does, honestly?), and I don't bounce back as quickly as other people do when I face some bumps in the road. Knowing this, I don't get my hopes up before something is triple-confirmed, mainly because I'm not a masochist. I work to maintain my grades but I don't expect to score anything higher than a B, because I can't deal with the disappointment if I don't get what I expect to get. This way, if I get a B I won't be demoralised and quit studying altogether, and if I get anything higher than a B it's a very nice surprise.

Generally, I don't like it when people have expectations of me as well. If you don't expect me to succeed then I can't disappoint you, therefore it's less pressure on me.

Some of my friends confuse my attitude for humility. It's not. It's mostly a combination of the way I deal with things and a low self-esteem. Funnily, my best friend WS does the exact same thing. Birds of a feather must really flock together.

The very few times where I've allowed myself to actually fantasise about what-it-might-be-like ended up with a very disappointed me, so I think my way works. As usual, bad timing comes into play whenever I hit bumps (notice the plural), so it's even tougher. Breakups coincided with exams, family arguments coincided with exams, bad bad health coincided with exams. See why I have more reason than ever to hate exams? :)

Next is a few paras about my idealism and naivete that borders on insanity. I like my life simple and uncomplicated, and I try to keep it that way as much as possible. Of course, the older and more experienced you get, the more complex relationships become, but then again I believe in freewill. It's only complicated if you choose to let it be that way. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. I usually give people the benefit of the doubt, which explains why I believed Carnage when he said he was leaving BF. All 6 times. :p I am also extremely straightforward and direct. Some of you have experienced this first hand, and Im sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable.

Obviously, that puts me at a disadvantage when it comes to dealing with more seasoned (read: manipulative) people, and you'll be surprised at how seasoned some people are, even in college. I've tried being manipulative, and even though it was an astounding success (I got what I wanted and the other parties weren't any wiser), I still feel a bit dishonest when I look back at it.

I don't think it's worth the sleepless nights. Okay, exaggeration, but I really regret doing that. Just as well I decided to abandon Business and go after Mass Comm. :p

Now about openness. I've actually closed myself off for the past 4 years, due to reasons that may be apparent to some and yet not apparent to others. I doubt my decision-making ability, and I don't feel safe enough to trust other people. The total amount of real-life new guy friends I've made in the past 4 years is practically less than 5.

I decided a while back to take a step forward, because 4 years is way too long even for my standards. It felt really great for a while to not worry about stuff all the time, but then my expectations were raised, and I was disappointed. There was a point when I decided to close this blog because I was uncomfortable with some people reading it, hence the hiatus post.

Luckily for me, the very next day after I'd decided to close this thing I had a date with Suanie, and she said some things that triggered a lot of deep thinking. She made me realise that a perspective change was all I needed to look at things differently, and to be at peace, if I can use that extremely cliched phrase. I was no longer preoccupied with the WHY WHY WHY, complete with hand-wringing and hair-tearing, and saw that there're actually more answers to a question than the obvious ones you'd expect. As a result, this blog is still up and running, with plenty of sexy pics to boot.

I remember chatting with Narrowband about some stuff my girlfriend is going through. In a very ironic way, the very advice I gave to her came back to bite me in the ass. Another lesson learned in life: don't go around giving advice like some know-it-all, because you just know your best friend Murphy's gonna drop by for a visit.

Bad timing and irony, the story of my life. :p Okay, I was exaggerating. It's really not that bad.

When all's said and done, I'm still glad that I took the steps that I did. You live, you learn (Alanis Morisette).

Now about Terri Schiavo. I can't imagine the amount of trust and love you need to commit the rest of your life to one single person. Likewise, I can't imagine the level of betrayal when that someone whom you love and have sworn to live with forever decides to let you starve to death.

There's euthanasia, which I support, and there's torture, which I do not. Obviously, I don't know the whole story, but I don't think I can starve my worst enemy to death. If a man can do that to his wife, whom he purportedly loves, he can do that to anyone.

To Jodi Centonze, I know being the third party always gets you maligned and pilloried (Camilla comes into mind), but I also know very well that it takes 2 hands to make a clap. I don't wish you any ill-will, and I hope you'll enjoy a better fate than Terri.

I guess when you think you know someone, you never really do. Or else they're capable of change so drastic that it makes them a totally different person from the one you thought you knew.

I'll still pick flying blind. Just hope I don't end up with somoone like Michael Schiavo.

This is very confusing, innit? I think I'm all over the place with no clear direction. My dream of being a journalist might have just been truncated. This is why I very seldom let people into the inner sanctum of my mind, cos it's really a very confusing place to be in. I won't do it again for another 3 months, I promise.

April 11, 2005


As some of you know all too well, APIIT is the much-maligned hell hole where I spent 2 and a half years putting up with all sorts of unholy incompetence. My opinion of certain people is still the same (they SUCK), but thanks to the existence of Suanie I don't shudder every time I think about the place now.

Anyway, today, I would like to introduce a game to you.

Hot chicks, yes? Go vote for them here

Got the link from an APIIT classmate who's still stuck in the gulag. She's doing a cyber marketing tutorial project something and needs to get 1k unique hits within a month. Help make her life easier by clicking on the link, please please pretty please? If you like you can even play the reality game they've set up. :)

Thank you very much.

Clarification (for Frosty :D)
My friend is not any of the above girls. Neither am I any of the above girls. Wow, that sounds weird. Basically, just click on the link and then close the window, sorta like porn sponsors, okay? :)

I don't recognise any of the girls though.
A friend who drives all the way from Subang to pick you up to have supper in Pandan Indah, and then drives all the way back home.

A friend who woke up at 4am to go to the airport with you to see your boyfriend off, and she even brought a pack of tissue paper cos she knows your hanky won't be enough.

A friend who calls you up every day that you're sick (and it's a LOT of sick days) to ask how you are, and to give you information about homework and deadlines. Every day.

A friend who cares enough to start a boring lecture about not eating ice-cream when you're suffering from bronchitis.

A friend who reads your blog regularly, even though you've written some pretty disparaging remarks about her in the past.

A friend who worries about whether you're hungry or not, and who lets you pick where to eat (even though you hate deciding).

A friend who does so many little things for you it'd take a lot to write it all down. But the devil's in the details, and it's the small things that say more than big gestures.

What do you do for a friend like this?

Just to clarify that I'm not being nice for helping out at her cousin sister's kiosk. I'm a selfish person, and I admit that very seldom will I do things that don't benefit me. I'm merely repaying all the nice things she's done for me over the years, by being there when she needs help.

Sometimes, it's really not about the money.

It's about helping her out this time so that she feels beholden to me, and will feel guilty because I didn't take her money. This way I have leverage over her for the rest of her natural life, muahahahaha. You still owe me a birthday present ler, JW darling.

April 10, 2005

Spider legs

This post is specially dedicated to Narrowband, who said I have a tendency to post more pictures than needed. Of course, he said it in a more polite way, but being that I'm the author of previous blogs like this one about mangosteens, I'll have to say, point taken, Narrowband!

Okay, I'll concede that the mangosteen one was really pushing the limits of human intelligence, but at least I was original! *grins*

Anyway, because I'm still in the process of sorting out my thoughts, I decided to continue in the vein of Posts With Useless Pictures, and therefore will be writing an all-new instruction booklet on how to use Veet, complete with pics, exclusively available at 27th & 6th only, whoohoo!

Okay, for the uninitiated, Veet is the name of a hair removal cream, which girls use to get rid of hairy legs so that little frilly skirts look good on us. To those who're blessed with non-hairy legs, I say, very vehemently, "Screw you!!"

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Step one, which is not included in the Official Veet Instruction Pack, is to moisturise your legs before depilating any natural hair from any part of your body. Scaly skin is not pretty to look at. Of course, when I say moisturise, I mean do it an hour or 2 before you start slapping Veet on yourself, otherwise you're just wasting moisturiser.

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I forgot to take a picture of the spatula that comes with the Veet, so please note the sky blue thingy sitting quietly next to the bottle of Veet in the upper right hand corner of the above pic.

According to the instructions, I'm supposed to spread the cream thickly enough to cover all hair. The box also says DO NOT RUB IN in blue capital letters (as shown), so I suppose it'll be wise to heed the advice.

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Nothing like red to point you to the bull's eye. :)

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At this point, I would like to remind users that the box says you should leave it on for five minutes and, again in big blue capital letters, NEVER MORE THAN 10. They should add "...if you don't want to end up with pus-sy (root word pus, okay?) legs." That'll put an unholy fear in the hearts of all estrogen-producing units.

Anyway, I usually take a middle number so I leave it on for 7. I have tough hair. *grins* By the way, this Veet company has got things down to a fine art, cos the box also says DO NOT GUESS THE TIME ALLOWED. USE A WATCH.

How cool is that? :p

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After you're done scraping, you haul your ass to the bathroom and rinse off the stickiness so your skin doesn't feel tight anymore. Towel dry and tadaa!, you're now the proud owner of a pair of silky smooth legs ala shoe model.

Personally, I still prefer shaving. Takes less time, I can do it in the shower, and I don't have to sit around with gunk on my legs all the while looking at the clock.

Model who generously provided her legs for your viewing pleasure has elected to remain anonymous. Requests for her contact will not be entertained.

If your intelligence feels insulted, I've already warned you in the first few paras, so don't come bleating to me about wasting 5 minutes of your time. :)

Insomnia is just so cool

I'm dead tired but I can't sleep.

Ok, I think short statements are best. Saw flying roaches today which brought on an anxiety attack. I didn't see just one, mind you, which is already bad enough. I saw five, count em, five.

Holy shit.

Been thinking about Teri Schiavo, flying blind, stuff Suanie said, stuff Minishorts said, and stuff IBlogMe said (will link after some sleep). Will blog about it coherently, also after some sleep.

I'm not bleeding anymore, hurray. To everyone I've gnawed and pok mung-ed, I won't do it for the next 28 days. I promise.

Boyfriends are pretty much useless. When a girl asks you which bag you think looks nice, don't say, "Just buy the one you like, honey. I'll still love you." If the chick knows which one she likes more, she wouldn't be asking you that question, would she?

Shit, what a bloody waste of time. Who the hell wants to put up with that?

I'm not cut out to be a salesgirl. I go crazy/extremely lethargic (depending on sugar intake) during periods of extreme boredom. I think I need more stress.

Porn isn't much fun when you have a headache. :(

Work work workity work.

April 06, 2005

Bird Day Boy

There's a reason this blog is called 27th and 6th. :) Cheapskate way to get out of buying him a present is to dedicate a blogpost to him. I bought three watches for myself today. The best part is, I didn't even make that graphic, the Oaf did. *grins*

I'm such a great sister.

More about work

I've never actually held a real job before, so forgive me if this blog is starting to sound boring.

Today, I managed to close almost RM200 worth of sales. Unfortunately, it was a lot of work because somehow, I can't manage to sell the big expensive bags. I can only trick schoolgirls into buying little pouches and hairclips. I think the most expensive bag I've sold to date is worth a measly RM33.90.

On the upside, I chatted with a very amiable Indian lady today and made friends with the girls manning the next stall. I've also spotted a watch I really really like. Maybe I can steal a bag tomorrow and barter trade for the watch. Here's to hoping. *crosses fingers*

Now, I'll just talk about the evening.

I was replying Suanie's SMS when I saw this guy looking at me in a very disconcerting way, like he knew me. He was also playing with his handphone. I stared back at him and tried to remember if he was one of my secondary school friends, cos my memory's not bad enough for me to forget college buddies. It also crossed my mind that he may be eyeing the cash drawer I was standing next to, so I made ready to grab the scissors to stab his eyes out if it came to that.

The next instant he said, "Saffron?" And I remembered that Resurrected said he'd dropped by and saw the wildly unsuitable bags, so tentatively I said, "Resurrected?"

It was him. The scissors were not needed today. *grins*

I took a break then and chatted with him while poor JW served the customers alone. When she came back, I introduced Res to her. Or at least I tried. After I opened my mouth I realised that I didn't know his name. In the end, we were all introduced to each other at the same time. All's well that ends well.

Pushing my luck further, I sat down on one of the benches with Res and talked about my sales philosophy (don't speak unless spoken to), capitalism, Chili's (it sucks. Don't go to the Mid Valley branch) and debating the pros and cons of muscular legs while looking at real-life examples.

Tomorrow I'm meeting Suanie for sinfully chocolate cake with a layer of cream cheese on top and hopefully a lunch date if things aren't too hectic.

I'm sorry for reacting weird when we met, Res. I was really tired and demotivated by bad skin. :)

April 05, 2005

Things I did on Sunday

Things I did on Sunday:
  1. Accidentally gave some girls a RM2 discount when I wasn't supposed to.
  2. Forgot to give a Mid Valley employee her 10% discount when I was supposed to.
  3. Chipped 5 of my nails trying to screw a keychain onto a zip.
  4. Cursed people who:
    • preen in front of the mirror (held up by me) for 15 minutes (I timed it) trying on a RM19.90 bag. It's a freaking 20 ringgit bag, you're not trying on your wedding ring. 5 minutes is bloody enough to make up your mind.
    • take out 15 different hairclips from their anchoring cardboard thingies and try them on, only to decide not to buy any. Saffron goes, "@#$%^!!1!"
    • think that sales girls have the IQ equivalent to a gnat. I can bloody own you all the way to Saturn, you stuck up bitch.
    • think about "Blue bag or pink? Pink bag or blue?" like they're deciding on which contraceptive to use so that their Ah Beng boyfriends won't further populate the Earth (or just Cheras) with yet more Ah Beng Jrs. If it takes you so bloody long to decide, just buy both and go without 3 cups of over-priced coffee.
  5. Tricked a little kiddie into trying on hairclips, and subsequently sold some by urging her into a temper tantrum so that her mom would buy her the hairclip.
  6. exposed my ass crack to every bugger walking past because I was rummaging around in the secret compartment trying to restock the bags sold.
Seriously though, it was a pretty good day. Not once did I have an insincere smile on my face, though my facial expression did show extreme boredom about 3 times in that one day.

I'm volunteering my services again tomorrow. I really should sleep earlier to I have more energy to stand around and curse people.

Some of the numbered items above are fictional. Let's see how well you know me by guessing which ones are true and which ones are false. :)

April 02, 2005

Shameless Self Promotion

No, this ain't about the whoring of blogs. I ping PPS, it's not like I have the moral highground anyway. :D

On Friday afternoon, I spent more than 6 hours standing at a kiosk in Mid Valley, located near U2, peddling cute little bags to unsuspecting school kids. On the upside, I managed to sell 3 bags (spectacular achievement for me yay cos I'm not one of those natural-born charmers) and I got a free pau for dinner. On the downside my feet hurt, I was bored, and I wasn't paid.

I've been drafted for duty tomorrow as well, because there's no one else who'll do it and it just feels so nice to be the last person on JW's People To Call list. Anyway, this is a first, I think, someone using a blog to promote a kiosk. Just to refresh, the stall's near U2, about the third from the huge space in the centre, if I'm not mistaken.

If you're around Mid Valley, drop by for a chat. The minute you see a girl standing standing around with flies buzzing around her head, you'll know that's me. Or you'll know it's me if the first thing that crosses your mind is 'Wow she's tall'. Of course, it'll be great if you'll buy something while chatting. *grins* Anyway, crack a joke to relieve my boredom I promise I'll give you a discount if I'm allowed to touch money tomorrow.

We've come a long way from fig leaves

1. Boy-leg shorts

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There're basically 3 reasons why I like boyleg shorts. They're comfortable, you don't have to worry about wedgies, and they're low maintenance (think shaving). Besides, you can wear em to bed, and anything that makes you look cute while sleeping is good in my books (ref: Sylvester the Cat boyleg undies). My favourite pair is bold-striped with maroon, light brown and white. Thank god it didn't fly down along with my lucky black tangas.

2. Low-rise (hipster) tangas
The undies I lost are called low-rise tangas, and the reason I like them is because they're low enough to not show under my jeans, but they're not that low that I have to drag em up everytime I get up from sitting down. It doesn't help that there're 3 underwear bins in every Jusco outlet, with a combined amount of maybe 3000 3-pack undies, and they only have 10 units of low-rise tangas. To make it more challenging, the stuff I want is usually hidden 20 layers below the granny underpants. You can see why underwear shopping isn't a very happy time for me.

3. Lacey stuff...
...is pretty to look at, but unless it's one of those RM2k a meter Chantilly lace or what not, it's not going to be very comfortable. Besides, maintenance is a bitch. On the other hand, if you're wearing lace and it stays on for more than 10 minutes, maybe it's not doing what it's supposed to be doing anyway.

3. Matching bras and panties

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Sets are pretty, but then they're usually very expensive and I rarely, if ever, find something that I really really like that would justify the amount I will have to pay (through my nose). But hey, since this is nothing more than a badly-disguised attempt to post pictures of near naked women, I'll put some up anyway.

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Everyone knows what a thong is. I don't get people who wear thongs, actually. There's no support involved, it's like having a permanent wedgie, and it's unhygienic. Figured if I'm wearing something that requires a thong, I might as well go commando. :p However, it's hard to go through underwear sites without stumbling across a thong (and a nice ass), so here's one anyway. Once you manage to tear your eyes off her cheeks, check out the butterflies.

Finally, I would like to end this with a word of caution. Unless you're campy like Britney, you never EVER want your thong strings to show. Ah Lian-esque trends should be strictly confined to places where Ah Lians hang out (mainly Cheras). No surprises elsewhere, please.

Underwear pics sourced from Victoria's Secret and La Senza. These places desperately want you to believe that the only difference between the highly-airbrushed models and your wife/gf is some expensive scraps of lace and silk.

Sourgrapes, yessir. :) I lost my lucky black underwear, I'm allowed to sulk.

Related posts:
How I Lost My Lucky Black Underpants