(^_^) (^o^) (^_^) (^o^) (^_^)
April 24, 2007

Have you ever been slapped hard in the face in the midst of a very deep sleep?

Well I have. Once. For switching my war-torn cell phone with my sister's new one while she was asleep the night before. At the break of dawn, I was awoken by a massive 180 angle slap right on my face. As I was trying hard to open my eyelids, enduring the pain, I could see a glimpse of my sister stomping her way out; with her cell phone back in her hands.

If you have a similar experience, I bet you’d how brutally painful it is. It's excruciating enough to be slapped in the face. But to be whacked amidst a deep slumber is a whole new level of pain. The abruptness of such a shocking experience would usually leave one stumped and utterly baffled. More often than not, the sufferer of such horror could do no more than scream... in silence.

Rather unfortunately, I’m constantly reminded of the ghastly experience.

It all started not that long ago, in college and the scale was much smaller. I would open up my MSN or Yahoo Messenger and there will be a plethora of these all over the screen...

"to all bebudak MKNHJK989830, g luck nk xm ptg nnt... CAIYOK!!!!!!!!!!!!11"

"FINAL PRESENTATION IN 2 HRS... cAiYoKKKkkkkkkkkKKK ~~~(^o^)~~~~"

OK. Deep sleep slap on the face reminder numero uno.

Forward a few months later and I was at the departure hall in KLIA. It was the usual goodbye hugs and kisses around me but as I walk towards the immigration booth after going down the escalator, I saw blood dripping on my shirt. Holy moly blood was flowing out of my nose... for no reason! Or so I thought.

As I looked up at the departure hall, this girl was waving to her friend with the other hand doing a 'peace' sign of some sort. Words can't describe the terror so I made this illustration to relive it.

Deep sleep slap on the face reminder numero dos.

I'll spare you the torment for now. Just check out this Google search result and you'll get the extent of this massacre.

To me, the darn term is the placebo of medicines, the John Doe of names, the watchamacallit of questions. I don't dare know its real meaning and how it came about terrorizing our society.

So nowadays, before I go out, I'd fill my earlobes with soil and bring an extra bag of it, no matter where I go.

You can never be too prepared! (^o^)

Stupid Is As Stupid Does
April 15, 2007

I’ve had my fair share of stupid things done over the years.

In 2001, I dislocated my shoulder after trying to pull off a Roberto Carlos scorpion kick I saw in a Nike ad. Did it in my dorm hall.

A year later, I missed my Chicago – Newark flight, consequently missing my Newark – KL flight after I was held at O’Hare for having excess hand-carry items. It was an extra bag which had in it, two boxes of Barbie dolls I bought for my sisters. Very sweet to some. Utterly disturbing to most, including the huge crowd queuing their way into the terminal gates.

In 2003 I believe, I somehow allowed Judd to have a soft copy of my IU Bloomington class portrait which had me smiling like a pervert. It has now made its way through the Internet, on our friends’ Friendster profiles.

In 2004, I loudly answered, while stretching my arms, "Well I’m a bit tired. Lotsa school work to be done." to a counter lady who asked me "How are you paying?". The ten or so people who heard my dumb answer had to hold their laughter until I went out of the store. She usually asks me how I was doing. Not on that fine day apparently.

2005 would’ve been a great year if it hadn’t been for Charlie, a dog owned by the owner of this guitar store I went to regularly. Not willing to put my masculinity at stake in a roomful of charming ladies, I called up the owner to pick up a cable for me from the cable rack; which had Charlie sleeping beside it. After telling him that I’m allergic to animal fur, as a mean of hiding my aversion of dogs, he spoke out louder than my answer to the counter lady, "Yeah right, you’ve been avoiding him ever since… come ‘ere Charlie boy!". I had to seek refuge from a nearby wall of guitars.

In 2006, I ‘thought’ that I’d booked a round trip flight from Chicago to Detroit. It wasn’t until the night before I leave for Chicago that I realized that by ‘return’ flight was also from Chicago to Detroit. My friend Bulan had his birthday come early that year.

And those are just the things I have on top of my head.

But stick the above list in huge fonts on my chest and have me deliver a speech to the whole world. I’ll still look like Einstein when I’m standing next to this guy.

April 12, 2007

I'm 24 today. And the following anecdote is how I foresee my 34th birthday. You might've gotten it already as office spam though...
Why I Fired My Secretary

Last week was my birthday and I didn't feel very well waking up that morning. I went downstairs for breakfast hoping my wife would be pleasant and say, "Happy birthday!", and possibly have a present for me.

As it turned out, she barely said good morning, let alone "Happy birthday".

I thought... well, that's marriage for you, but the kids will remember. My kids ate breakfast and didn't say a word.

So when I left for the office, I was feeling pretty low and somewhat despondent.

As I walked into my office, my secretary, Jane said, "Good morning boss, happy birthday!" It felt a little better that at least someone had remembered.

I worked until one o'clock and then Jane knocked on my door and said, "You know, it's such a beautiful day outside, and it's your birthday, let's go out to lunch, just you and me".

I said, "Thanks Jane, that's the greatest thing I've heard all day. Let's go!"

We went to lunch. But we didn't go where we normally would go. We dined instead at a little place with a private table. We had two martinis each and I enjoyed the meal tremendously.

On the way back to the office, Jane said, "You know, it's such a beautiful day... We don't need to go back to the office, do we?"

I responded, "I guess not. What do you have in mind?"

She said, "Let's go to my apartment".

After arriving at her apartment Jane turned to me and said, "Boss, if you don't mind, I'm going to step into the bedroom for a moment. I'll be right back".

"OK", I nervously replied.

She went into the bedroom and, after a couple of minutes, she came out carrying a huge birthday cake... followed by my wife, kids, and dozens of my friends and co-workers, all singing "Happy Birthday".

And I just sat there...

On the couch...


April 09, 2007

Somehow, I was in front of the TV watching Nona with Salah yesterday.

How two very straight guys ended up watching Nona on a Sunday afternoon was beyond me.

Our jaws dropped though, upon watching a segment on the auditions for the show's next host. Aptly named Pesona Nona, we were indeed mesmerized by the contestants.

Let's just say I was brought back to a certain Disneyworld Carnival about a year ago when Jasmine, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White were happily prancing in a circle around me, with Mary Poppins singing my name to the tune of A Spoonful of Sugar.

Certainly something I wish to enjoy while sipping my morning coffee everyday at work.

Moving on, there was then a feature on the contestants' ability to talk about current issues in front of the camera.

Most of them were decent to say the least but there was this certain young lady who got me spewing Pepsi out of my nose all over the sofa, when I wasn't even drinking any.

I couldn't really recall the actual topic of her discussion but it had something to do with safe sex, STD and the likes. I thought things went well for her at first, elaborating on the negative impacts of not practicing safe sex etc. She got her points delivered pretty well.

It was close to her ending statement when she mentioned that 'wild sex' is an uncouth practice.

I really, really hope she meant seks rambang and nothing else.

Daydream Believer
April 03, 2007

I daydream all the time; in the LRT, queuing for a Big Mac, reading Judd’s blog, listening to Syah’s stories on his breakthroughs at work and in life which are often just limited achievements that impress his only self and hold no relevance to me nor do they deem any sort of remarkable values worthy of being told to others with the hope of climbing up the social hierarchy, watching the news, in the elevator etc.

In other words, I tend to daydream whenever I’m involved in activities requiring little to no attention.

What worries me the most though, is that, the things that I daydream about have such minute chance of becoming reality that Will Ferrell has got a better chance at being funny. Nevertheless, the daydreams portray the things that I really want to achieve in life.

As much as I want to score the winning goal for my country to clinch the World Cup, receive two Oscars for a movie I wrote and act in, sweep 10 Grammys through a debut album, be awarded a Nobel Peace Prize after providing shelter to war torn villagers, obtain a Pulitzer for my column in the New Yorker AND have my name in the Guinness for the most number of noted achievements ever (5), by anyone, in the shortest period of time…

As much as I want all of the above, reality takes me back to the future that I envision having. And it is indeed, a very well taken 5-yard run punt kick right onto the crotch.

Nevermind an Oscar, I don’t even see myself getting any of those stupid fake certificates that Reader’s Digest send to their subscribers to make them feel special. Not even that piece of crap.

Such an odd mixture of hope and rationalism engenders frustration. And it’s from that frustration comes this dumb piece of bad writing.

PS – The achievements listed above are just an embodiment of the surreal extent that my daydreams reached. I never really wanted to win two Oscars in one year. One would suffice.

Photography by Azalia Suhaimi

  • Asrif, b. 1983
  • Subang Jaya, Malaysia
  • asrifomar[@]gmail[.]com
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