Weekend Roundup No.17/2009 - Livin' Life & Honouring Departures

Gettin' scruffy for the weekend

Another relatively uneventful weekend. Not necessarily a bad thing, seeing that the work week itself hadn’t been anything to write home about.

It was day after day of the usual – clients not coughing up cash to pay their outstanding bills, unrealistic deadlines and the constant need to “layan” ridiculous (and non-billable, I might add) queries....the Trifecta of Annoyance, I call this.

Because of the work week’s trivial pursuits, I decided to just go with the flow over the weekend.

Started the weekend festivities with a night out with the girls on Friday. Yes, girls, including this one:

LB. Doing his signature pose. He calls it the Tyra. A traffic stopper, this one.

Had dinner at Delicious in Midvalley Megamall with AgentM, LB, MB and EA before heading to the nearby GSC with the Nutty Clan to watch this:

Quite honestly, this one was a major disappointment. The storyline was completely predictable, the script impossibly cheesy and the characters were about as two dimensional as you can get.

Megan Fox, quite frankly, looked like a tart and Shia LeBeouf didn’t cause a single tingle in the Nutty loins this time around. On hindsight, Megan’s character really did remind me of the female specimens often seen with the local Mat Rempit folk. The infamous Bohsia. Suitably made up for Hollywood consumption. And as if to plug the shortcomings in the storyline, cast and script, the producers and directors went on to fill the movie with two and a half hours worth of pointless CGI-fueled robo-duels.

Will someone pass me the arsenic please.

If you haven’t seen this one, be warned. You might be better off getting the bootlegged DVD. At least then you can re-use the thing as a coaster. *snigger*

Saturday swung by, and after RPM Challenge I spent a pretty amusing afternoon with CT and ML playing board games at the SciFi Cafe @ Cineleisure.

ML, as it turns out, is quite the board game enthusiast, and he brought this along for us to have a go at:

Amusing game. Kinda like a cross between Monopoly and Cluedo. Look it up on Google if you have the time. Won some gaming award last year in Germany, if I remember the facts right.

No prizes for guessing who lost. Hint : He’s 191cm tall and qualifies for his own postal code. *guffaw*

On a slightly more serious note - made a trip to Klang later that evening with some old college mates to attend a wake at Booker’s place in honour of her dad, who recently passed on. In true Booker-style, the wake was not a solemn notice of passing but more of a celebration of her father’s life, which seemed absolutely appropriate, seeing that I fondly remember the man as someone who enjoyed life to the fullest.

If you’re reading this Booker, I do hope you’re doing ok. If you need anything, you know we’re all just a phone call away.

Sunday afternoon soon swung by, and I spent it with AgentM, where we did the usual lunch, shopping & foot massage routine. Predictable, this routine may be, but retail therapy coupled with some body-pampering is a combination that is pretty hard to top. Being able to do it on a weekly basis is a luxury one should not live without.

Headed home soon after our foot-rub and settled down on my sofa to watch this:

First a synopsis:

Daigo Kobayashi (Masahiro Motoki) is a devoted cellist in an orchestra that has just been dissolved and now finds himself without a job. He decides to move back to his old hometown with his wife to look for work and start over.

After months without a job, and desperate for employment, he answers a classified ad entitled "Departures" thinking it is an advertisement for a travel agency only to discover that the job is actually for a "Nokanshi" or "encoffineer," a funeral professional who prepares deceased bodies for burial and entry into the next life.

While his wife and others despise the job, Daigo unexpectedly takes a certain pride in his work and begins to perfect the art of "Nokanshi," acting as a gentle gatekeeper between life and death, between the departed and the family of the departed.

The film follows his profound and sometimes comical journey with death as he uncovers the wonder, joy and meaning of life and living.

I wasn’t expecting much, to tell you the truth, but this movie quite literally blew me away. Easily the single, most moving piece of work that I’ve seen so far this year.

The critics obviously agree, as it won an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film at the 2009 Academy Awards. Goes to show that you don’t really need millions and millions worth of CGI to make a movie worth every penny of the ticket price.

You probably won't see this one getting too much publicity or show time in local cinemas, so I suggest you head down to your friendly bootlegger and beg, borrow or steal a copy of this. It’s really THAT good.

Helps, of course, that the star of the show cut quite a dashing figure in suits and such throughout the movie...*grin*

So how was your weekend, folks?

Friday On-Line Funnies

I love trawling Craigslist. Seriously. If you’ve ever had, like an hour of spare time with nothing better to do, log on and take a look at the site.

The personals are always amusing. Especially the ones with headers like these:

“GAM looking for LTR with GWM only – no offence”. Right. Why on earth should I be offended? Just don’t come crying to me when his employment pass expires, hunny.

Or better still are the ones that read “Str8 acting male looking for man-on-man action”. You’re gay. Get with the programme, darling. An act can only get you so far. Eventually the Queen inside escapes. She always does.

But the REAL comedic relief often comes from the “Rants & Raves” section. Cos every so often, you get absolute gems like these:

This is what I get for bringing you, a 20-year-old college kid with "Daddy" issues, back to my place after you cruised me at a bar yesterday night: We started making out on the couch and you asked to go down on me.

I had a rag handy for clean up, but when the crucial moment arrived and I gave you a courtesy tap on the head, you kept going and took it like a man. I thanked you for the service, walked you out to your car, and returned to find my entire load spit out onto the rug in front of the couch.

Really, dude? Look, I could care less if you spit or swallow. But do not, I repeat, DO NOT spit a four-day wad of ball batter all over a $600.00 rug from Pottery Barn, especially when the GF just bought it last week. I had to tell her that the dog puked up on it, but I don't think she's buying it. I know I probably deserve this karma, but it's not cool, man. Not cool at all.

Or this:

Wild night bro.....but you left your wedding ring in my shower. Don't know your last name to try to find you, and can imagine your wife is asking questions about now. You know where to find me.

Hur hur, no?

And they say straight men are a waste of time for us pink folk.....*guffaw*

Heart Stoppers

People buy Protons for many reasons. National pride. Rock bottom prices. Value for money. Whatever the reason, and despite their Fisher-Price build quality, Protons still dominate the Malaysian roadscape. Think of it as the local Volkswagen and you wouldn’t be far off the track.

This Nut, on the other hand, bought Betsy the Gen2 for one reason and one reason alone. Her colour. Quite possibly, the prettiest shade of turquoise known to man.

Fine. So I have the depth of a soup spoon when it comes to pretty things. Bite me.

The promise of reasonable maintenance costs were a secondary concern, but a comforting one nonetheless. At the time at which I plonked down a deposit for the gal, I wasn’t exactly raking in the cash, you must understand. I became taxable only a year prior, and suffice to say that a shopping excursion at Cole Haan or Bvlgari back then would have easily bankrupted me. As such, a pretty set of wheels which wouldn’t cost the earth to upkeep was a very, very good thing to have.

And so far, it has worked out pretty well. Spending two hundred odd Ringgit every three months or so on servicing has gone largely unnoticed. But as they say, all good things do eventually come to an end.

Sent Betsy in for her 80,000km service yesterday. A “major” service, the Proton boys told me when I booked her in.

The last “major” service was at 40,000km, a good two years back. They replaced all sorts of fluids and lubricants on the lil' lady, and the bill came up to a smidgen over RM400.

But with the added mileage, I pretty much expected a somewhat heftier bill. Some parts would most likely be nearing the end of their designed service life after 4 1/2 years on the road, after all. Probably RM600, I thought to myself. RM700 if there's anything seriously wonky. But definitely nothing past this figure, I reckoned. It’s a Proton, after all, and Betsy's been showing no signs of electronic or mechanical gremlins.

But I was SO very wrong.

My jaw dropped and my heart definitely skipped a beat when I was handed this invoice for work done on the gal:

Your eyes do not deceive you. That is NOT a typo. Read em' and weep. It does indeed read:

One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty Seven Ringgit and Sixty Five Cents.

In other words, the cost of not one, not two, but THREE Cole Haan wallets.
Or a DELL Inspiron Mini 10 netbook.
Or heaven forbid, an iPod Touch with enough spare change for a Shuffle.

Holy bajeezus!

And mind you, it wasn't like they found some major automotive cancer growing on Betsy. There were no component failures. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a routine scheduled parts, fluids and lubricant replacement.

Whoever said that Protons were cheap to upkeep, needs to be dragged out, quartered and shot.

If you happen to own and drive a Gen2 or any Proton equipped with the CAMPRO engine, and you're closing on on that magical 80,000km mark on your odometer, you've been warned. *smirk*

The Flirting Game

Had supper with my hag, PBB late Tuesday evening, and we got to chatting about men and all stuff related thereto. Often a favourite topic between fags and their hags, this one.

Turns out the lil’ lady has been getting a lot of attention lately. Attention of the manly kind.

Just a few months back she was moaning and groaning about how she couldn’t seem to get any man to even look at her without suffering from the fight-or-flight response. Now, it seems, she’s attracting them like...urm…flies to you-know-what. Change doesn’t get more drastic than this, I reckon.

Currently the gal doesn’t just have one, but THREE blokes pining for her attention. All strapping men with a penchant for outdoor sports. One in particular, MH, has been particularly aggressive with his pursuits. Well, at least I think so. PBB on the other hand, insists that he just wants to be friends.

RIGHT.

So I’m putting up this poll on behalf of PBB.

What do you reckon when a man:

(1) Seemingly knows your workout schedule by heart and shows up at the same club as you do, at the same time, even when his office and/or home is clearly on the other side of town;

(2) Asks you out almost on a daily basis to “shop” for workout gear;

(3) Calls you every single day to “check in on you” and stays on the phone for hour-long conversations;

(4) Is ALWAYS the first person to message you when you log in on MSN; and

(5) Volunteers insanely detailed info about his dietary habits and his supplementation regime.

Your thoughts on the matter in the comments section please. A free dinner at Shang's Lemon Garden is at stake here, people. Think before you type. *smirk*

Nutty Allergies

There are really only two things that this Nut is severely allergic to. First is this:

The devilishly cunning fruit. The only company that can get away with charging 300 bucks for a screen-less MP3 player. I'd like to think of this Cupertino-based company as a modern day Nazi. The propaganda that their PR department churns out on a daily basis, convincing everyone that their electronic fruit is better than anyone else's is not entirely dissimilar to that of Hitler's Third Reich, when you come to think about it.

Ok. Fine. I'll readily admit that some of their stuff is achingly beautiful. The new MacBook Pro range is one such item. Minimalist design at it's best. But to charge almost 5k for a 13-inch laptop with specs similar to a PC half the price? I just think that's plain daylight robbery.

But my dislike for the loopy fruit from Cupertino is surpassed only by this:

Kids. Ohmigawd. I loathe them. I'd take a dog ANYDAY over one of these things.

They're generally noisy, nosy and oh-so bloody messy. All they seem to do is eat, sleep and make a mess. In short, they were put on this Earth to annoy adults.

One such specimen was at Starbucks Bangsar Village I on Sunday, while I was enjoying my afternoon cuppa with Cosmochic. This 2 foot tall monster was flirting with disaster I tell ya. I had to resist with all my might, the urge to give this kid a backhand that would make Agassi weep with pride. Not a slap. A backhand. NOT.THE.SAME, mind you.

This tyke of a creature turned Starbucks into his little jungle gym, jumping onto empty seats with his shoes on, bouncing off the walls and sprawling himself across tables and walkways. The little booger even had the gall to peep into this Nut's shopping bags. A grunt that would normally scare sane adults away didn't seem to work with the elf. A rather gay "shoo..go away", with accompanying hand actions didn't have any effect either.

What riled me up even more was the fact that, while this tyke tore up Starbucks and annoyed every single patron in the place, the parents to this monster sat calmly, three tables away, sipping away on latte.

Ohmifuckingawd.

To be honest, I didn't know whether to backhand the kid or the parents. Bloody hell.

Funny, isn't it, how everyone expects dogs to sit and heel on command, but don't expect the same from kids.

I for one, say there should be a law that requires parents to leash em'. Or at least have them enrolled in a military-style obedience school the moment they learn to walk. To be released only when they've learnt to sit, heel and especially for the boys...urm...bend over on command.*guffaw*

It's probably a good thing then, that I'll never have kids of my own. *snigger*