Thursday, July 2, 2009


Beyond the developing 6-in-1 abdominal "muscles", the months are flippin' rapidly as with a story desperate for an ending. Scary? You bet. Desperate times call for desperate measures; I'm tempted to call the cops - "Hey Officer, I'd like to report a robbery. Couldn't really get a clear description of the thief, but the loss is pretty major. Someone stole my... TIME."

Mega-dramatic? A little.

Time: it's not about refunds but rather...returns. The outcome of the expenditure. Catching up with a friend over dinner, we jumped into the all-too-familiar "Wow, time really flies when you're having fun"; it's all about perspective, no qualms about that. But what happens when 'all-the-fun-under-the-sun' gets a li'l too scorchy and dry?

Hmm. Someone I'd like to chat up? The Samaritan woman at the well. I call her Ms. Samaria - I've a hunch she was a li'l on the foxy side (for the record: Megan Fox is way overrated). But beyond that, Ms. Samaria had one of the longest 'one-on-one' conversations with a seemingly thirsty, underrated bloke named Jesus... recorded in the Bible.

Here's a rundown:

He's sits at the well. She arrives with an empty jar. He asks her for a drink. She snubs him. He offers her better water. Ooh! She yabbers on ancestral stories. He asserts her - its the only Water she'd ever need. She's smitten. She wants. He tells her to call her husband. She denies having one. He busts her fib - 5 husbands and counting. Ouch. She puts him in the 'Holy' box. She puts on her 'holy veil' and starts a mountain of a story on worship and God. He tells her worship isn't not really about 'where' but 'who'. She snubs him again and speaks of a Saviour who knows best. He goes "I am He." Duh! His mates arrive with lunch - "Jesus talking to Ms. Samaria?" Awkward. She runs off leaving her jar behind. She twitters about Him to her 'world'.

Discovery Channel gets a new story: Ladies and gentlemen, Samaria has found...Living Water.

The dry spell. We were made for all-seasons, and the seasons have us made - bringing out the good and the ugly. What a reminder! I need those 'one-on-one' conversations. I need a refill. Is my jar empty? What's it filled with? Runners need water... I need the Living Water.

"Time and tide wait for no man."

Jesus? He wasn't thirsty... He was merely waiting. He still is. It's about time.

Friday, March 27, 2009

the sky is falling

Rumour has it that they soared the skies once upon a time. Thanks to Tony Fernandez & his zesty crew, chickens now can forget about the whole 'domestic' flight ordeal, book em' flight tickets online and just stay finger-licking-good. I'm guessing Chicken Little had a foot in this, taking "What's the matter? Too 'chicken' to fly?" perhaps a tad too seriously.

Acrophobia,rather... fear of heights?

Nah, not me. Catching the pilot divulge "We'll be experiencing a slight turbulence, please buckle up" over the intercom on my recent flight was pretty amusing though. Seat-belts were clickin' and half-baked-drowsy eyes were rollin'.

nice storm?

Window seats. Wow, thank you. They're for the brave. Seriously. Capturing the storm brewing outside kinda pricked the security bubble, conjuring up a familiar verse - "Yet once more I shake not only the earth, but also heaven.”

"His voice that time shook the earth to its foundations; this time—he's told us this quite plainly—he'll also rock the heavens: "One last shaking, from top to bottom, stem to stern." The phrase "one last shaking" means a thorough housecleaning, getting rid of all the historical and religious junk so that the unshakable essentials stand clear and uncluttered."

- The Message, Hebrews 12:26 & 27

Gulp. He sounded pretty serious about it, as if He was saying ... "This is your Captain speaking - we're about to go through turbulent times, buckle up and hold on tight. I'll carry you, and you...don't have to carry anything. Know that I AM in control."

Alrighty. You the Man.

When calamity strikes, victims tend to escape and cling to that which is precious; more often than not, they escape empty handed, hanging on to dear lives. Perhaps, that's where You need me to be... "empty handed but alive in Your hands".

No. The world ain't about to crash just yet. In fact, I found myself secretly applauding Ms. Air Stewardess for her outstanding safety procedure 'performance'. In case of emergencies or under 'pressure'? Grab the oxygen mask and...breathe. Oh, I'm sure breath mints come in handy too!

To infinity...and beyond!

The author reckons Westlife and Buzz Lightyear should high-five: "Flying without wings?" Nah, that's just "falling, with style."

Saturday, February 28, 2009

stop, look & listen

Fishing my way at a coffee joint, I hooked myself up to a caffeine-infused conversation between two college punks. The subject matter? "How to score with chicks." Wow, I really felt like grabbing a pen and paper, pulling up a chair and learning from these 'gurus'. Tempting, but in-earphones on 'mute' seemed like a cooler idea. 

Let's call em' Sir Brag-a-lot and Sir Ask-a-lot. 

actual conversation:

Sir Brag-a-lot: Dude, it's easy lah! Just go out in a group, then flirt-flirt with the one u like.

Sir Ask-a-lot: Then?

Sir Brag-a-lot: Then add them in Facebook lah. Facebook can chat oso mah. Whack only, you whack 10 girls...sure got 1 you can 'bang'. 

Sir Ask-a-lot: Sure or not? 

Sir Ask-a-lot: I know lah some girls are quite easy,  but those kinds after get STDs how? 

Sir Brag-a-lot: Dude, use a condom lah. You not like gonna get married to them right? Girls and condoms are the same lah, use one time, after that throw lah... 

*Joel Vijay leaves the 'chat' and hits the PLAY button on his iTunes* 

More than knocking just sense, I felt like knocking the daylights out of them. " That's the kind of advise you'd be giving your own kids one day?" Grabbing the headlines, when Alfie stepped into the 'Daddy' shoes at the age of 13...he just gave the shoe stores a new problem. Seriously? That's like the tip of the iceberg in Problemology. Beyond the "Is Alfie too young to be a father?" debate, it's appalling to find the world eluding, forgetting to even greet the mother-of-the-issue...premarital sex. Hello?

"The heart of the problem, is the problem of the heart." This world needs some saving, and I'm itching to take up... CPR lessons. 

The author's inflicted with a major ear condition; the folk at Jealous Street call it 'eavesdropping'. Learning to master his 'ability',  he's pretty convinced he'll be appearing in the upcoming season of the TV Series, "Heroes".

Friday, January 9, 2009

cheeky bulls

Bravo, that's the first step in acknowledging the existence of a brain in the human anatomy. Yet, many times in irresistibly allowing the mouth to move quicker than the mind, intelligence is inevitably blown out the windows. Letting the cat out of the bag? Seriously? It looked like a whole herd of Bulls to me.  

Evading curiosity & temptations to read-between-the-lines, these thoughts were ripple effects of a statement I read recently, "Assumption is life's lowest level of knowledge."

Honestly, I couldn’t agree more. Some folks tend to make assumptions with hopes to appear smart. Keep those hands down, this isn’t a guilt-trip invite! Forget Levi’s and Dockers, ‘Smarty Pants’ have been a fashion favourite ever since… Adam and Eve took up sewing lessons.

Recalling a trip to the zoo last year, speaking of bulls...they're a whole lot bigger (and badder!) than I had pictured em'. The burly-horny-animal (geez, it IS a big animal with horns) would be crowned king in a game of 'Bluff'' - better yet, the front cover of 'Poker-Face' Magazine.

Taking a li’l spin off, it's intriguing how we draw parallel lines between human personalities and animals: 

bull - one who builds sky-crappy tower of lies. 

pig - the glutton, face-stuffer.

elephant - just takes up too much space

chicken - the dude who crossed the road to prove that he wasn't just an egg. Get the yoke?   

monkey - one that swings all around you in attempt to make you feel smart.   

li'l bird - someone you should whisper ONLY your Christmas Wish-list to. 

The list goes on. Yet, the spotlight goes to a four-legged creature that often appears to be the butt of jokes for eons.... the donkey; more fondly known as an ASS. I'm pretty sure there was a conspiracy on board Noah's Ark to leave this infamous creature behind. The humans? Some brainiac decided to high-five the animal kingdom in their ploy - "let's not make an ass of you and me." ASS-U-ME = assume.

Wow, we really took it to the next level...the lowest. Don't be an ass. If Jesus can use a donkey, He can use me? Yup, it doesn't mean you've to become one. We're better than that. (No offense, donkey.) Maybe? Let your "Yes" be "Yes" and your "No", "No," - everything else should fall into 'I don't know, but I'll find out?' 

On a personal mission to the land of Honey Stars, I've decided to toss boxes of assumptions off my rocketship. 

Up, up and away!

Friday, January 2, 2009

Peekaboo! I see... open doors

Catching up on some TV over the holidays, I found myself flippin' through channels from Oprah right up to National Geographic, even catching Australia's Next Top Model - seriously, these folks couldn't get anymore dramatic.

Drama & Reality TV shows? I found myself pondering on watching re-runs of my life - gosh, sadly it wouldn't be as exhilarating as I'd wish it to be. Yet, I'm pretty smugged-up with 2008 - a truckload of engaging experiences; kick-starting the year with a police chase and drawing the curtains by attempting to commit mass murder at a... fish spa (don't ask me about it), 
it's definitely been a good ride and could only get "gooder"! 

2009? You've got anticipation written all over ya. "So excite lah!" -  Here I come!

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

I'd love to..

"...but my dog's about to attempt to speak English. Sorry!" 

I can't blame the mongrel for attempting to talk after chewing up all the 'homework'. Forget Einstein, someone should clench the Nobel Prize for "theoretical & creative discovery" in Blame-ology and Fine Arts of Excuses.  

In my attempt to conceal my 'blemish' - I've been charged, tried and condemned guilty on countless occasions for making up excuses. I gotta admit, some of em' were close to being bestsellers on the 'fiction' shelves. "..well if you screw up, take it like a man!" Hey! Whatever happened to anti-discrimination and gender equality? Guess what? Real men cry…Boo-hoo.

At times, I think I'd make a pretty good chef. A personal favourite of the ol' excuse menu would be - "not my thing": 

damsel-in-distress: Hey, could you help me out with this? 

super-dimwit(me): That's really not my 'thing' you know, I'd totally like...mess it up. Rather not. 

damsel-in-distress: *whatever. (*puts two "L" fingers together forming a "W")

Speaking of damsels, sometimes I envy em'. "I'm having cramps" has to be one of those gunshot one-liners that send the birds flying across the sky.  The lads are often left dumbfounded fearing the aftermath. Far from generalizing, it's merely super-poking those that capitalize on the 'periodical tsunami'. "I have the right to be evil?" Yeah, major irony in that sentence.

Beyonce Knowles poured her soul in "If I were a boy"...interesting perspective. Yet, it would be a shame to tag it as a PMS-theme song wouldn’t it?  PMS? Credit overdose.  

"Thank you. Honestly, I don't deserve this. After all, I couldn't have done it without YOU". Hilarious, but that's exactly how the speech would probably sound like if anyone would clench the Mother-of-All-Excuses award; If there was one part of ‘creation’ we'd beat the Creator at, this would be it.

Lame excuses. Reflecting on those moments where I could have 'saved' the day or at least made it better for someone else, I'm now bent on giving everything a shot. Worst case scenario? Folks giving me the affirming 'well-you-gave-it-a-shot-but-it-ain't-your-thing-for-sure' as they resort to dialing 911. 

Back to my English-speaking dog, she's honestly having cramps and from her howls, she’s not one that holds on to "if you've nothing good to say, don't say it." I'm off to walk her before she starts penning horror stories to Santa about me.  *Falalalala-lala-la-la!*

The author has no affiliations and neither is he afflicted with PMS, he’s merely finding an excuse to blog about it. 

Friday, November 7, 2008

living it

"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

That day arrived, America voted and...Obama won, belting a song of hope "Yes We Can" creating history as the first African-American to be elected President of the United States. Intrigued I was (still am), with his campaign speeches:

"I did not travel around this state over the last year and see a white South Carolina or a black South Carolina. I saw South Carolina."

"So understand this, South Carolina. The choice in this election is not between regions or religions or genders. It's not about rich versus poor, young versus old. And it is not about black versus white. This election is about the past versus the future."

"When I hear that we'll never overcome the racial divide in our politics, I think about that Republican woman who used to work for Strom Thurmond, who is now devoted to educating inner city children and who went out into the streets of South Carolina and knocked on doors for this campaign. Don't tell me we can't change. Yes, we can."

*"Yes, we can change. Yes, we can heal this nation. Yes, we can seize our future."

It's been close 50 years (45 years to be exact) and Mr. King's dream seems to be hiking it's way to its peak. In my attempt to squeeze to my feet into his shoes, I couldn't help but smile as a friend remarked, "Hey, you're where you always dreamt to be - the music scene. You dreamt of it while you were in high school, now you're living it."

Thanks dear friend, for reminding me of my high school ambitions. Honestly, I gotta admit - the dream was that of a selfish, young punk who had fame on his mind. Nothing wrong with that, it's just that I'm a li'l more wised up now. I'm willing to let it go as that of a stringed helium balloon. Fame? The li'l teaspoon I've had tasted pretty good yet I'd hate to choke myself with a bottle of pride. This dream's bigger than me, and the more I look up the more I's not about me.

Live the dream, don't just dream to live.

*the author finds "Malaysia Boleh" and "Yes We Can" uncannily identical. Who are the 'freakin' pirates' now aye?