Drive me, silly!

I'm monosyllabic at best with my driver. Even that, he doesnt quite get it at times.

The other day, perhaps I looked tranquilized from a heady mixture of multiple spirits, he capitalized on my fragile state and braved a question.

"Boss, I need to talk to you about something."

*grunt*

"Boss, I've got a problem. It concerns my manhood."

*feigns interest*

"I need your help."

"To?"

"I mean I've a problem performing."

At this point, I had to show some compassion. Afterall, my life is in his hands, literally.

"You mean after 2 kids, you're still doing it? Thought old married couples dont do it after a while. You can tell me the truth."

Silence.

"Boss, I love my wife and I.."

"So with your wife you cannot perform but with others you can?"

"Nooooo Boss!"

"Get new wife then."

"Nevermindlah, boss. Thanks."

*grunt*

I had to draw the line, unfortunately. I could have opened a catalogue of other problems if I had offered help.

Today, I still wonder why he thought I could.

*hmmmm*

The Ego Has Landed

Excerpt of the speech of Ehud Olmert, Prime Minister of the State of Israel, published in Maariv on Monday, July 31, 2006.

"What is it about us, the Jews, the minority, the persecuted, that arouses this cosmic sense of justice in you? What do we have that all the others don't? In a loud clear voice, looking you straight in the eye, I stand before you openly and I will not apologize. I will not capitulate. I will not whine. This is a battle for our freedom. For our humanity. For the right to lead normal lives within our recognized, legitimate borders. It is also your battle.

I pray and I believe that now you will understand that. Because if you don't, you may regret it later, when it's too late. "

The narcissistic nature of politics and politicans. There's little compassion for others when a solution offers those who do.

Last night, at an international event in Kuala Lumpur, the Minister officiating the event was 2 and the half hours late. The person was rightly heckled and the chorus of boos disrupted the ceremony. Of course, the photos in the papers showed a happy shiny Minister.

The British and Singaporeans Ministers wont be caught late for any functions. It has been drummed into their code of conduct that 1,000 heads are worth more than one. Apparently, Lee Kuan Yew takes it upon himself to discipline the tardy ones.

It only takes ONE head to clean the cabinet. Its time, he does.

Breath of A Blogger

There's so much media coverage on blogging these days that a blogger must be quite important . I noticed that bloggers have ceased to exist as people too. I've seen some declaration by ex-people who proudly announce that "I'm a blogger".

But I think its a secret society run by real people. They have all these clandestine meetings at fast food outlets where they meet and exchange photos. Conversation and common interests are secondary as long as you're a blogger.

There are benefits though. It gives you a job until you get a real one, hence, you can say "I'm a blogger". Your parents dont have to dodge the subject of your employment at family gatherings.

That is unless you're me. My business associates have heard about my blog which I vehemently deny. They think its a political blog which provides the occasional social commentary. Real people are so gullible.

I'm really confused though. Shouldnt blogging the activity be as intuitive as walking or watching CSI? Maybe I should glorify breathing then. "I Breathe, therefore I'm a Breather."

I like that. Everyone needs a breather.

Hour of Need

Parting is difficult when you've emotionally invested. The decision is for the better as I've neglected and have spent too much time away from an obsession that once consumed me. As the strain of this is starting to fray the delicate quilt that is one's passion, I have gone back to look at where I started, why I created this, how far I have come.

Collecting fine watches demands time and finances. I started young and have always restructured and freshened up the collection when appropriate. I had a plan in 2000 where my target was to collect a variety of horological complications from innovative watchmakers on the verge of becoming mainstream and selective pieces from the established watchmakers. Each piece invested must also have a story to it. It should reflect a particular milestone, mood and event that marked that purchase.

Then something changed. I became fascinated with stories untold. An old vintage watch makes you dreamy and leaves plenty to the imagination. A fighter pilot's watch, circa 1940s, casts me away to Europe during wartime and the intensity of a fleeting encounter across the room at the Moulin. An old Patek would tell you a story of a generation of wealth to the generation that squandered it, as tin lost its metal.

The transaction was easy. My prices were met although I was hesitant. But I needed to break away from the things that once defined me; starting with my watches.

A little about the watches I sold:

Lange 1 Moonphase

I was intrigued with the history of Lange. A German watchmaker who shutdown during the war and reopened in the 1990s. Lange 1 changed a stuffy industry dominated by Swiss watchmakers. The design was unconventional for its time and the quality of the craftmanship had no parallel. It won numerous awards and made collectors scour the industry for independant talents beyond the main houses.

I like Lange's innovativeness and its courage to disrupt markets. I was once that, I need to rediscover that.

FP Journe Octa Calendrier

FP Journe benefitted from the exposure of Lange. He's an independant French watchmaker residing in Geneva. He was the one I speculated on; the next big thing. He didnt disappoint. He's today feted by the industry and sets the benchmark for independants aiming to succeed. I wear the watch he wears and told him so in writing. He wrote back thanking me for my faith.

I took 6 months of research before buying this watch although I didnt exactly pay for it. It was in return for a favour. His business has since flourished.

I sold at the prices I bought. Perhaps, I could've done better but the watches are in good hands and he's wants to look at my other watches. Somehow, I think he wants to know my story.

Anyone keen on buying some cars?

Annoyingly Funny!

Today, I heard a joke. It was actually very funny.

It was so funny that I didnt just Laugh Out Loud. I went HAHAHAHA!!! with caps and multiple exclamations while rolling on the floor laughing my ass off.

People looking in started laughing too. It wasnt because they heard the very funny joke. They were laughing out pretty loud at me who acted funny because of that ridiculously funny joke.

I wanted to confirm the funny. So I heard it in my head. It was so contagiously funny because not only my head went funny but my hands and legs gesticulated in a slapstickly funny manner. My sides went a splitting and I may have peed but I wasnt too sure because I spilled my green tea.

I bet you guys would have found it deliriously funny and blog about it too.

A Marked Man

I was 9 when I stopped being smart. Mrs Chan said nobody likes a Mr Know All. I decided to be cool.

So I became addicted to Ultraman.

I was 13 when I stopped crying. Wei Jin said that I must learn to hide my feelings. I learn too well.

So I dont sleep much.

I was 20 when I stopped asking for money. I told my dad I needed money for rent. He send a cheque for the exact amount.

So I didnt eat much.

I was 29 for a long time. Some thirty year old said life starts at 30. But I enjoyed my 29s.

So I grew other ways.

I was 32 when I started my own business. An old man said you'll succeed if you believe in the struggle.

So I sold the business.

I am today for what I could never be if I was what I could be.

Pointless Political Post

Its not often you get an eclectic collection of politicans, pensioners and poets in a room. The ostracized politicans from Mahathir's regime namely, Tun Musa and Datuk Seri Anwar, shared private and long exchanges together oblivious to the observant crowd. Tun Salleh was consumed by the banquet and didnt offer fodder. He's no politican.

There were other Ministers past and present. Together with both the bekas DPM, they were charm personified. Only politicans shake ALL hands and laugh at ALL jokes. The lobbyists and moneyed are no better when in their company.

I had a good laugh too. At everyone including myself.

In most armies of the world, sex is repressed so that the soldier becomes very dangerous. He wants to hit hard, he wants to be violent. The American soldiers are allowed some sexual outlet to the extent that their potency at warfare is affected. Its been reported that at least 30% of the soldiers do not use their weapons. A sexually satisfied person is not really interested in killing.

Its a strange fact that whenever a society has been affluent and sexually free, it was destroyed by poor, backward and repressive societies. That was the fate of the Greek and Roman empires. That is probably going to be the fate of the Americans.

There's probably no correlation on the above to the ongoing Middle East crisis or the domestic dispute. It makes nice conversation when talking to politicans. Totally screws them up.

No Hope

Its really funky when someone looks up to you. Especially an Oxford graduate who's been working abroad for the last few years.

So I bullshit as usual and as usual he thinks I'm beyond him. All because I told him I write occasionally. I Laugh Out Loud with you folks.

I showed him my blog through my tree geez phone no less. He went "Wow! UNCLE, not Bad!! So I said disagreed, "Really I'm BAD".

"No, I can tell you're really sweet, UNCLE." " Tell me the secret of your success."

Now he wants a tattoo too.

* After writing this post and before he slept, sicko pee-d into the laundry basket. Dont offer him champagne today if you meet him.

Sicko At Work

The 100th post is a dozen short, a year of posts is mere months away. It is neither my birthday nor my sorrow that makes this post. This blog is meant to be apolitical, asexual and astute. It is void of emotional conflicts so it doesn’t reveal the vulnerability and pompousness of the writer. There are occasional lapses but mostly it is tempered so that the message is not clouded. When I write funny, I could be grieving and when my words look clever, I could be pissed out of my liver.

No wonder the blog is absolutely boring.

But it keeps me sane. That’s important.

Some SICism

The perennial battle of the sexes is not one that concerns this blog as;

the writer is not representative of the average male. *coughs*
And,
a debate is about conflicting views. There is no meeting of minds, let alone outcome.

Although, according to Sicism;

Its clear to see if one can see clearly,
That our differences are to be celebrated,
In spite of them.

Amen-d to that.

The Walk of Shame

The last commercial I did, left me wretched and scarred from the experience. It was Once Upon a Time ago, but those few days camped in the studio, shook the last remnants of naivety out of a delusioned youth.

I played the main lead in a cast of 7. Simple script, copied wholesale from the American version, where the magican walks across an uncovered bench of thirsty people waiting for a bus. I ended up at a vending machine that threw up cold bottles of the advertised soft drink which were gratefully received by that greedy lot.

It took 2 full days after some taichi, politicking and little cajoling to cast me away to the bench. The director decided I couldnt do the WALK and replaced me with his friend who was initially 'benched'. There I was thinking I had the swagger of James Dean on Speed, when there was this Caesarian plot going right under my crotch.

Months later, I bumped into them at a seedy joint. They were tongue wrestling each other and pretty much oblivious to my presence. Well, I didnt have a handbag to smack their pretty little faces so I cat pounded myself to the bar.

The TV ad ran for 2 short months. The drink flopped and only in the last few years it made a comeback into the local market. I was paid as per my contract as the lead while Brutus the Nutmeg got his dues, as per contract in the secondary role.

Perhaps there's little money in politics. Only airtime.