Be kind rewind

Last weekend I had a blast from the past.

The feelings of being high off the ground, watching over the sky and building surrounding me was such an escape. On top of all that, lies a swimming pool, even though shallow, was exquisite enough for the night. To be more over the top, there were two fold up tables filled with alcohol and Red Bull.

To my first guess, some company must have been sponsoring this party as the cover charge was only RM2 and must be attending with a head gear or sorts. What they forgot to put down clearly is which head were they referring to. I came with head gears of course, but probably at the wrong head.

It's almost like a Rooftop crew revisited. Complete until the extend of people walking over broken glasses like they were native Indians doing their magical dance and not feel a thing.

The dessert of the night was KakiCucukLangit.

I do not know that if he knows that it was Yunus who are not letting go, and I didn't really give a horse shit about what happened.

But if he was googling his own 'brand presence' as he would say it, and found this post, I would like to say hello.

He was laughing and having ball of a time with me. He have no idea who I was.

I could have been the evil Vlad and sneak up to him and say, "Hey, you know what, I am Vlad from Social Cafe." Before he knew it, there was this 15 inches machete already going through his ribs.

But I am just messing around. He is still alive what after being thrown in the pool in his Baju Melayu.

Hot diggity dog

I put down some thoughts a few days earlier, quietly, and to my surprise there are people dropping by. To think that I was just about to write explicit details about how I murder Barney, suddenly made me feel relieved or else Muddy would have went down to the police station.

Worst is, he would have blackmailed me and ask for me to sing Barney's annoying theme song.

This time of the year, most employees are getting grind to the core and made to remember what they have done or been doing for the whole year. Perhaps some even have to cough up a story why they have not been doing what they should.

Appraisal.

My case is a little bit (un)fortunate.

The superior and the head has left the organization. So the people who have known of what I have done or not is not around.

For that matter, I can even put down that I helped Osama cross over to the hills across Pahang and came back alive in the appraisal and no one could prove that.

Then again you do know that I am just joking right.

This is because Osama never came to Malaysia, he is busy selling hot dogs right outside White House.

Knock knock

It has been a while since I have talked to you my old friend.

Blogging is something slowly creeping out of my system. Then again I was never really into the business. It started off a domain to put our crap down and till today I guess we have maintained it well.

To have a wider look at the world online, everyone is almost ascertain to come along the path of blogging. Be it on big scale, or as minute as micro blogging.

There used to be a time where you could at times find gems to read, or at least something to tickle your funny bone. Now, either I am outdated with links or somehow or rather, everything seems well, boring.

The worst of course, is those who write a couple of obvious caption that brings Captain Obvious to a shame. To top that off, or rather the lack of what it is, cleavages and little pretty self photo to capture the attention. People would say, "You can always not read them."

That only works when you have other choices, but when everything is going along that line, what else is left?

How about the welfare of the other Social Cafe members?

Fariz Force, as you may or may not know it, is married and blessed with a beautiful daughter. This as Shakespeare would say, "Rose, in any other name, would have smell as sweet" or did I memorized that wrongly during some drunken stupor. He is currently in the busy city of Tokyo for at least 2 years before he return here with a truck load of Japanese girls bound in white leather just for me.

Yunus Izam, well, has been thinking of going off to Rio De Janiero to showcase his wonderful collections of tiny male swimwears. It will be hard to find him nowadays without some sort of oil on his body. Shiny and glamorous. All this while trying to hide the itch in his asshole for Mr. Bojangles.

Mr. Bojangles, unfortunately, fell into a campfire during one of the trip and never did survived. 75% 1st degree burnt. We shall say our prayers for it.

I, on the other hand, went from in a relationship for a year plus and now out of it. Nothing drastic. I just could not be the person she wanted or rather planned.

So don't tell me that you all are not well informed.

Till I write again.

The room in the corner

Times flies real fast.

The last update was two months ago.

In about a month from today, Baby G will be two years old.

But it is depressive. Depressive enough to have me hiding in the room every time I come back from work.

Most of the time I will come back to a big mess. The kitchen and the hall looks about the same now. I saw on the sofa patches of hand soap. I am not going to help clean it. Shaver lying around the floor. If one day Baby G ends up bloody, I am not going to even feel surprised.

Once upon a time, I made him take out a piece of glass that he was happily sucking in his mouth. The surprise factor is no more there. That I can say.

How is one going to take care of a child, if the person were to only laugh and smile to themselves in front of the computer for almost all the time.

This is no time to point fingers.

You cannot blame a barely two year old kid that he is being naughty taking things out. You cannot blame him for wanting to play. That is what kids do best.

You cannot scream at him asking him what does he want. He does not understand you, because you never taught him how to.

And that is why I hid in the room. Away from all the blasphemy.

Decision disorder

Here I am.

I realised that I have an disorder that makes it hard to decide at times. It amplifies more if I am put in a food court with gazillion food stalls to choose from. The left part of my brain, I suspect, the glutton he is, always tell me to buy everything and then sit on the table trying to finish it. He, however, is not a favourable person to Ethopians. The right side, is worst. He walk from one stall to another contemplating why he should not choose the particular choice or contradicts himself when a choice was already made.

Now it seems that the disorder is affecting the blogging neuron of my brain too.

Write here?

Write at Social Cafe?

Do not write again?

Why the fuck I am still here when you left it for years?

Maybe I just let it flow, even when the next update comes in a month time.

I mean, MJ has moved on. So did Yasmin Ahmad. Surprises and life goes hand in hand these period of the year. The coincidental path of my brain also told me they are both 51. Does this mean Area 51 is back in operation? Do we have alien re-visit (or they never did leave? or they are already among us for millenias already?)

For fuck sake, make up your mind.