dublin office

i would like to write and have been wanting to write for a long time. yet i seem to have nothing of great importance to write.

today i shall write to remind myself in a years time to randomly bet one pound on a high return horse during the grand nationals and win 100 quid again. oh mon mone u iz the shiznit yes you are.

toshiba

working in a top end restaurant makes one stronger i suppose. its not easy, it was never going to be easy. first day of taylors college and that was what we were told. 16 hours a day, 6 days a week of constant work and getting fucked by your superiors physically and mentally is not a thing everyone can do. after the first day, i was putting down wagers that i wont last a week. 1 month on, im still going about my life in my new employment. much have been learned and besides the screwed up heels and the cuts and burns on the hands, all is good and one is still alive.

its depressing to be honest. no social life what so ever. l`amours and girlfriends are totally out of the question. one would ask? why? 

raya is tomorrow. not a day was fasted nor am i going for raya prayers. work as usual from 7.30am. why?

to be strong

when you pray, pray for me.

selamat hari raya and maaf zahir and batin

ODD

if i knew writing dissertations was this much fun, i would have started much earlier....

Sungmas

I Got Cash

by the Brooklyn Funk Essentials

I got cash in fuck you quantities
Know what?
That makes you uncomfortable?
Fuck you and the Range Rover you drove in on

Fuck your Saab convertable
And fuck your twice weekly trips to the analyst
Stupid mutha fuck

Fuck the Hamptons
The fly infested south of France
I'm paid asshole,
I got more cash than God can count
so why don't you just.... die?

Choke to death on your damn designer bagel from Balducci's
Low cholesterol, naturally

Fuck your big ol' Sunday New York Times
Fuck the Wall Street Journal
And News Week
And the lot
Including Nation, Village Voice, Guardian and the rest
Stupid set of priviliged mutha fuckers
Think its fashionable to have an alternative view

An alternative view

And fuck, if you can
Your pencil thin, Evian drinking, calorie counting, caffiene limiting, sodium sparing, nutrasweet sweetening, read view mirror preening, carrot nibbling bunny

Go drown in a lake of Diet Coke, fucker

I got cash, what else matters?

I got cash

Slave

Fuck your fencing and screw your squash,
Piss on your Paulo and your Pavarotti,
Fuck all that shit you call music and pretend to enjoy

I got cash,
Mega cash,
I'm happy with that,
Oh go and sit on your ski rug,
Money talks you little pussy,

You let your politically correct pals know,
That i think you're a dick also,
You dirty asshole

And your idea of multiculturalism
Japanese resturant on Monday,
Indian on tuesday,
And on Wednesday, Caribbean,
Not too spicy please

Well
I got stash on stash and it ain't novo cash.
Moneys in my family for generations,
My great great great grandfather made the bag,
Selling European slaves in Africa

I got cash mutha fuckah,
And you can't tell whether or not I'm joking, can you?
Dumb fuck.

give them a go. wont regret em.

BBPA

Not drunk is he who from the floor
Can rise again and still drink more,
But drunk is he who prostate lies,
Without the power to drink or rise.

The English Pub- A History

kurva

call it ignorance. call it stupidity. call it arrogance. call it what ever you want but if you are having trouble, just do a mix match of the above and add the relevant.

try calling an ol friend, thousand miles away, in seek of refuge and motivation from work and horrible weather. And after having 'listening' to this person bitch about tom,dick and harry (the person is bitcher) and i think we went back to tom for abit after that, turns the conversation to me.
how delighted to get my saying in an international call i was footing right?

well, with the usual bla bla about work and school, the person turns round with the response of, and i quote:
` why you doing all this? i mean you`re only a chef right? it should be easy no? you just cook. why all these classes and dissertation? '

fuck me, chefs around the world just cook dont they? easy job. why learn the likes of food safety, human resources, accounting, legislation, trends, int. gastronomy, etc..?? i mean, even an obvious 'intelect' whom bitches about life in malaysia can point out that it has no relevance what so ever.

oh god fathers, why do i even bother keeping in touch with people whom have successfully demotivate me further in my struggles. why fuck you very much. you`re so kind.

the next time i want to waste time, ill stand by the window and wait for the daffys to sprout out.

Derma

FUCKING HALLMARK!

cherry

some thing i stumbled upon recently, something that happened once upon a time. yes i do miss the jegom (junior environmental group of malaysia) days.

nyet

perrier

Been occupying myself with movies in recent times. I find it awfully therapeutic, to switch off and be part of the various characters, scenarios and locations seems awfully appealing at the moment. Its either that, or its an easy excuse not to get down and dirty with the growing workload of a student.

Watched Wes Anderson`s The Darjeeling Limited some days backand am still trying to figure out if i enjoyed it. Yes i think i did enjoy the Royal Tenenbaums back then, yet i find myself on a half/half on this movie. It was colourful, funny, yet with meaning and substance inter-laced. (just a matter if you got it). Yes, this was definitely an arty farty movie, if you catch my drift. *pooot*

American Gangster was wicked(my man, my man) but im looking forward to the french movie coming out in mid december about a lovey dovey menage trois relationship with characters falling into duets throughout the movie. Something like Huit Femme(8 Females) i suppose.

Being a movie buff at this precise moment, makes me wonder. With the Oscars coming in February, we should nominate really good and enchanting actresses whom have caught our hearts in the many scenes and roles played so far. The `Airport` scene was heartfelt, the `Numb` scene was played flawlessly, captivating viewers through words and emotions, where else the sincerity of character in the `Serious Talk` scene was just mind boggling. Put your hands up ladies and gentlemen...........

Erinacious

i cried for you before, i wont do it again.

you claim to be having the `best premier league` in the world,
you claim to have the best players in the world,
you claim to have the power of rooney, gerrard, jt, and the geeza who sold his soul to the yanks.
you claim to have all good and mighty in the name of soccer.
you cant even qualify for fucking Euro 2008.

you`re better off playing tiddly-winks next summer when all eyes are on austria/switzerland.

i shed no more tears for you

St James

fuck me, no turkeys for christmas din dins, AGAIN?

nyet

if anyone remembers, there was a shortage of turkeys last year in malaysia.
duck lice, duck lice la.

Artois

why is it so hard to say goodbye to yesterday?

lafuma

Battersea Park for fire works display was a really good idea. Masses in the thousands cramminginto a park , 5 quid per person and watching a 15 minute pyrotechnic show.

Damn the long lines to the burger stalls. the bonfire

babi buffet in kings road

might need to tilt to the left

tomato mousse

Come lets drink and watch the fire works and commemorate the geeza who once planned to blow up Parliament.

Kinton

I enjoy deep frying calamari. I really do.

Derma Care

The journey of the captain and his first mate goes back over a year now. Having crossed many seas, discovered new lands and uncovered treasures any pirate would have dream of, the duo were off again into the horizon for yet another adventure.

The Chest of Marlboro was always a great myth in the pirates world. Words of its wonders and riches had gone back for generations but like any other great myth, no one has ever gotten to the bottom of it or even close. Until now.

The captain, a staunch Muslim, had always had a problem when it came to his first mates. A very fussy and particular character, he had only really connected and trusted one other in the past, but they parted ways nearly 2 years back. Now, to fill in the shoes, the captain has found his perfect first mate, one who he can talk to with true honesty, one whom will `aye captain` when expected but still have the balls to speak up in true honesty, one who can take the mood swings with a smile, one with very similar visions, a true friend. The first mate is a staunch Jew.

The Jew comes on board with a similar past. Coming from a history of bad captains, the Jew has been fucked around and treated like a down right pariah pirtate by dozens of previous superiors. Initially being nice and getting along fine, the work relationship always turned bad for some odd reason, and always ending on a bad note. This time the first mate is finally content with the superior. Someone who can treat a first mate with respect and honour. And for once in the first mate`s life, the dark past is not to dark to be talked about.

The route is set and mapped out. The direction is north west. just after the Ramsay Quay. The treasure is close and they both know it. With such chemistry on the boat, they knew they`ll be able to work themselves around the known treacherous waters of Yorky, and row on towards the Quay. Both know of the long journey ahead, but are in high spirits. For ahead, is the treasure that had always been the talk of the tavern. A treasure, both mates grown up to believe and dream of, was seating there for them. It was definite. For something so definite, neither could choose anyone else to be by their sides when the moment comes on opening the chest up(however gay that makes a pirate sound).

Days go by, turning into weeks and now they have been rowing for a number of months. The journey has been jolly for both sides and as they row closer to Yorky, the weather starts to play up. In a freak storm with 20 metre high waves, gustling strong winds and sheer darkness except for the lightnings that strucks with loud bangs of thunder. Both are in the shit. They know they have travelled so far to jump ship(boat) now. But it might be the case. It was virtually impossible to keep the boat on a straight path but with sheer determination and faith, they might be able to pull through. The first mate panics. Probably not wanting the treasure as much as thought, the first mate jumps out of the boat with nothing less of a goodbye and tries to swim off for land.

The captain is dumbstruck. Shouting out the equivalent of `par punde` in pirate jibberish, the captain can only look in dismay as his second in command swims off. After awhile, the first mate is out of sight. The captain knows its impossible to get to the treasure now. It just was. You cannot row a boat alone around the Yorky and move in to the Quay. Its unheard of. The captain sits down to gather his thoughts. All he can do is hope. Hope that the little shit realizes that maybe jumping ship was a horrendous idea, and they could have overcome the seas together. However much hate the captain now has, he still believes the mate is needed to get to the Chest and tries to believe that the mate will be back to continue the journey.

After a while, water starts moving in fast into the boat, and it s getting to his ankle. Now to the knees. He doesnt want to. He has goals ever so close. He wants to realize his destiny as a pirate. To uncover the holy grail of treasures in pirate world. He has no choice. He still hopes the same for a second. two seconds.

He jumps ship.

6:13

we love today what we hate tomorrow

allergy relief

working in london has so far been quite fun and amusing at times. try working in a restaurant with people from all over. a melting pot of faces and culture.
the ukranian who has a good sense of humour,
the brazillian dude who self proclaims on being number one,
the manja polish lass, '
the bolivian girl who keeps grabbing other`s ass cheeks(and says shes just testing afterwards), the polish woman who puts on depressing love songs all the time on the radio(especially when u dont feel like listening to micheal bolton),
the head chef who is really into house music(`yo taufik, check the beat,check the beat. u hear that? wicked beat mate`),
the algerians,
and the singing chef from the carribean(belting out to the tunes of barry white and the likes).

shit, and thats just the kitchen staff.

service staff from montenegro, poland, us, sweden, germany, etc.

oh and that queer brazillian dude who i had a conversation about faith with.

dude: so, ur islam. ur arab from malaysia
joe: no, im a muslim. i believe in islam but im not an arab. you dont need to be an arab to believe in islam.
dude: (starting to look a bit uninterested and as he walks away splurts out) im brazillian. and i only believe in massive dongs up my arse.

par punde

democracy

bless your heart, you .....you...well, you know what u did.

18

"The whole conviction of my life now
rests upon the belief that loneliness,
far from being a rare and curious phenomenon,
is the central and inevitable fact of human existence."

Thomas Wolfe,
"God's Lonely Man"