Because I...
September 29, 2008

...have no better picture than this one. Have a good one folks.



Chicken wings. Those are chicken wings. And how about them Lennon shades, eh?



Not So Fast
September 11, 2008

I was at Jack’s with the guys (as always) for iftar1 the other day. And after devouring on their renowned Fiery T-Bone Steak and Grilled Lamb Chop, resembling savage beasts of the African wildlife, it occurred to me that apart from its known values, fasting is about dueling your own body.

Of course at that point, it was rather surprising that one of our brains was functioning; at least to come up with such a revolutionary thought. Given the condition that we were in, leaning on our backs to support our digestive system which had suffered minor ruptures from our gorging of the food earlier, performing even the most rudimentary of human acts (e.g. breathing -- which did require us to unbutton our pants) would be an incredible feat.

Coming back to our point of discussion, your body begins to make a mockery of your life as early as 5am.

"Honey wake up..." hollers your wife every few seconds from the kitchen as she prepares sahur2.

Your ears on the other hand, trying to be funny, would process the call differently and send a rather distorted signal to your brain; in the form of a sound wave matching that of a Tickle Me Elmo’s.

"Elmo sleepy, rock-a-bye baby... Elmo sleepy, rock-a-bye baby... Elmo sleepy, rock-a-bye baby..." you would hear instead, as you doze off.

You do finally wake up, nevertheless, at your wife’s whip of the pillow, at 545am, leaving you only 5 minutes to eat, before you grab a bottle with your eyes closed and guzzle a few gallons of liquid into your throat, which you would shortly realize was actually Clorox Bleach.

Noon comes with the sun shining brightly up in the sky right through the office window hitting the monitor glaring into your eyes waking you up from a midday slumber at work.

You open your eyes and your e-mail client displays,
To: Jamil Sulong (GM/CBU)
CC: Hussen Mansur3 (SM/CBU)
Subject: RE: Project Neutron

Dear Sir,

In response to your query earlier, do allow me to reiterate that the increase in demand and economic growth within the SEA region had led tooOOoo3rj r933j s9jk---
S –d 32 otofln8g8g9fhj9
SDFsf98 03 r53k 1 pak 0,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
"Ha ha... I can’t send this out. Ha ha... lucky me. Phew, close callzzZZZZzzzz..." you say to yourself in such relief before you (as illustrated by the ‘zzZZZZzzzz’) instantly snooze back into deep slumber while your head falls right onto the ‘Enter’ key.

And out goes the underprovided e-mail to its involuntary recipients.

It’s not ALL that bad, surely. Most companies are generous enough to allow their employees to go home a bit earlier during the fasting month; certainly nothing better than heading off from work at 4pm and reaching home at 7pm.

Along the frenzied traffic, in spirit of the fasting month, you do try to refrain your mouth from spewing out curses at the other road users. A few smart aleck acquaintances of mine however, had formulated a way to express their feelings with the same anger intensity, without actually cursing per se.

"Use the lights you unintelligent offspring of a female canine!" said a human thesaurus in the Civic.

"Oh yeah, yuck fou too!" replied the rhyming genius in the Camry.

At dusk, the beauty of the fasting month emerges. You get to enjoy a fully deserved meal with your family or housemates after a whole day of patience and perseverance. The faces of your loved ones glow as sadklasdk 0aso[ we .. . ./
. . / . ..
Sd

Qwe]]]]]]louygklp]h]u

E
.s…s.s99 p9p9p9p9l.,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,//////////////////////////

1 iftar: The break of fast
2 sahur: The meal before fasting
3 Hussen Mansur: A very weird friend of mine



Sheikh A Tail Feather
September 03, 2008

As posted on East of COMS.

This piece is a bit overdue. The urge to write it was at its peak some two days back but with the state of shock that I was (and still am) in, I could barely type a word.

It was like waking up in the morning and realizing that Megan Fox is sleeping soundly beside you with the serenity of her angelic face hiding behind the pillow; not to mention the minimal amount of clothing covering her.

That, was about how I felt as a Manchester City supporter on Tuesday morning. It was only less than 24 hours before that the club was taken over by the Abu Dhabi United Group whom immediately made bids for Dimitar Berbatov, Robinho, David Villa, Mario Gomez and Donald Trump.

Though 'only' the Robinho bid bore fruit (despite Chelsea's cheekiness in putting replica shirts with his name for sale on their official website), breaking the British transfer record in the process, City's attempt at swiping Berbatov under Sir Alex Ferguson's red nose had unintentionally (of course) caused the Glazers to fork out an extra £7m for the Bulgarian's service.

Suffice to say, instead of waking up beside Megan Fox, they woke up beside me.

It was only less than a month ago that City was portrayed by the ever truthful media as being on the brink of doom. Dr. Thaksin Shinawatra's frozen assets, Mark Hughes' departure and long time club excess baggage Danny Mills' new contract; to name a few.

Hope though, goes hand in hand with being a City fan. It's been 70 years the club made history by being the only reigning league champions to be relegated. 70 years and, as the old saying from Maine Road goes, we're still here.

Suspicion started to creep into me in the first few weeks of the season. Despite all of the negative allegations clouding the club, namely Shinawatra's £2m loan from ex-chairman John Wardle and a £30m loan against the TV money, City signed Vincent Kompany; coined by some as one of the finest defensive midfielders in Europe. The notion, only further amplified with him winning the Barclay's Man of the Match in his debut, the day after he signed; allowing him to only learn the names of the other players from their jerseys during the game.

The week after saw the return of the club's prodigal son, Shaun Wright-Phillips who came to City when he was 15 because Nottingham Forest thought he was too small. Winning the club's Young Player of the Year award four times earned him an 'SWP – Legend' banner courtesy of the fans. In tears (from a stomach bug apparently) after his last game for City, Shaun left for Chelsea for £21m. After only 43 appearances at Chelsea, Shaun came back and immediately scored two goals during his emotional return at the Stadium of Light to secure a 3 – 0 win over Sunderland.

Excluding the £12m made from the purchasing of SWP (which was amazing business doubtlessly), the wealth of City's new owners is estimated to be, in the words of analysts scrutinizing the deal, a lot.

The takeover couldn't be timelier. It's a gift that the fans have earned after all these years. And it's only evident that they've gone through enough and there's simply no room for glory hunters, whom had all gone to the other Manchester club anyway, from whom we won six easy points from the Manchester Derby games last season, ironically.

But let's not get too carried away.

While it's true that City will be fronted by the golden Brazilliant! triangle of Elano-Jo-Robinho with Martin Petrov and Shaun Wright-Phillips bombing down the flanks in between the rotational intelligence of Michael Johnson, Stephen Ireland Vincent Kompany and 55-year old Dietmar Hamann, causing chaos and massacre to the opposition's defenders while City's own defensive line, remaining calm with full composure, features the veteran Richard Dunne as the captain alongside England's most prized defender Micah Richard together with Olympic gold medal winner Paulo Zabaleta and future England number one Joe Hart in goal cumulatively promising football beyond orgasmic...

...let's not get too carried away. This is City we're talking about here.

Oh, what the hell. Get in!

BBC interviews Noel Gallagher on the 'staggering' takeover, why not:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/front_page/7595458.stm

"It'll be nice to know that every gallon of petrol a Manchester United fan buys is going into our kitty."



Photography by Azalia Suhaimi

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