It cost me RM800++ to replace all four wheel bearings of my car.
Maybe I should consider an Estima for next year.
Lagu 3 Kupang
Piss
Peeing: the act of excreting urine from the body system.
There is that sense of relief once urine has been passed. You no longer have that added urgency that was suddenly added into your routine, and almost always at critical times. Alan Shepard Jr had had to pee in his spacesuit after his first flight into space was delayed by some technical uncertainties. Adult diapers were not there yet for NASA’s astronauts to use.
How many of you have peed in your pants or knickers after the age of 18?
Oh, own up, people!
There was a time when I almost peed in my pants. This was in Hong Kong, and I was caught in the channel tunnel in my limo heading out from the island towards my hotel in Kowloon, on the mainland; and I had just had 16 mugs of pure orange juice sans ice without going to the toilet. After lunch, I went back to my hotel in Kowloon via the channel tunnel that links Hong Kong island to Kowloon on the mainland – and was caught in lunch-hour traffic. I remember struggling to tell my body to hold back that 16 mugs of fresh orange juice firmly in the bladder. After 20 minutes I began to wonder if the driver could smell my urine if I peed inside the limo. Common sense prevailed and I held on, agonisingly, and ran straight to the hotel’s washroom at the lobby without closing the limo door.
Holding back your pee can be disastrous if you suffer from Rhinitis like I do. There I was, rushing to the gents. As I stood in front of the urinal and fingers fumbling with the zipper, the sudden change in temperature from cold to warm, caused me to sneeze. KABOOM! Wet the front of my pants a bit.
Peeing can also be painful. I had had my renal stones removed via a procedure called Ureteroscopy. Basically, it is an intrusive procedure. First, after knocking you out with General Anaesthetic, they stick a guide wire through the dick’s little hole, through the urethra and into the ureter. Then they stick in a Ureteroscope and grasp the smaller stones into a basket, and pull them out of the ureter. For the bigger stone, they actually used electrohydraulic lithotripsy. Sounds complicatingly technical? You must wonder how on earth can all that go through the dick’s opening. Well, at least someone knows why my dick’s girth is big la.
So why is that painful? When I came to, I had the biggest headache, I was disorientated because of the after effects of a GA, and because of all that water that was pumped into my bladder, I felt like I wanted to pee. My lower back ached like hell. I stood by the toilet bowl and tried to pee. Initially, there was nothing. Then there was a kind of blowback, maybe because of the Double-J stent they had left inside my ureter to keep it from swelling shut after the procedure. Imagine all that urine blowing back inside…painful! Then as it passes through the urinary tract, down to the dick, the dick already had cuts inside…arrghh…burning sensation…then I hold my urine back…another blowback. And it wasn’t just urine. Because of the wound, I was also peeing blood…lots of it. Frothing blood filled the toilet bowl, and I was moaning in pain, my hands squeezed whatever I could grab hold of, just to overcome the excruciating pain. For more than a week I was peeing blood.
Two weeks after the procedure, they repeated the process to remove the Double-J stent. Painful…painful. At least someone’s benefiting from the pain I had to go through. Hahaha!
And if you are in a public area, like a mall, do carry enough coins with you to pay for ‘toilet fee’. I had one 20-sen coin and thought it was enough for me. Then when my bladder was threatening to burst, I rushed to the mall’s toilet, only to be refused entry by the Indon female gatekeeper because the fee was 30 sen. God! I did not realise that inflation has caused not only petrol and essential goods prices to go up, but the cost to take a leak as well? As I argued with this Indon, a fellow Indon male and two Bangla male colleagues of hers decided to turn up with menacing look on their faces. They looked a bit like that poster from the movie ‘Pendekar Bujang Lapok’ where Pendekar Mustar, Sudin, Ajis and Ramlee walked towards the camera in unison to confront Ahmad Nesfu and his cohorts. I wasn’t going to be bothered over a fee that costs ‘3 kupang’ (30 sen in Perakian), nor was I going to pee laughing looking at their facial expression.
So I rushed for the stairwell and peed behind the fire-resistant door. Those bujang lapoks can always mop the floor after.
At least I got to pee for free…
BFF – Best Friends Forever, Or, Butt-F***ing Foe?
My two best friends: my daughter Nisaa and my son Farhan, both occupy 80% of my bed. This is how they look like when they are not fighting.
Friend or Foe?
I want those who get to know me
to become admirers of my enemies
A friend confided in me yesterday afternoon: not only has her boyfriend’s dumped her for her best friend, her best friend is now bad mouthing her to their common friends. The worse part is they all come from the same organisation – therefore wherever they go they are bound to bump into one another, unless someone quits.
I don’t know what to tell her. She’s been going steady with this guy for a couple of years now; and that is now gone. She is angry, bitter – because her best friend stole him away, and he’s dumped her totally.
I have only one advice for her: move on. Forget him. He doesn’t deserve this friend of mine. No use dwelling over this petty issue. I know it is easier said than done, but this is the best that she can do. There is no point thinking of stupid people.
Some friends are like that. Some live happily spreading rumours about you, or someone who is close to you so that you and the other person this friend likes to talk about, will have a fall out. It gives pleasure in this kind of people that they are above you in the foodchain pyramid: knowing one ugly detail about you is like having opened your Pandora’s box. So your downfall is their happiness.
At least this friend of mine has a reason not to talk to any of the other two. Some can be bitter that you have moved on. Seriously. They break up with you, dump you without thinking twice, expect you to agree to their decision that somehow affects your life badly – but treat you as if they still own you. Then when you move on, they abandon you, and your new partner (especially if she knows your new partner personally). Some friend, huh! To cap that ugliness, some would even call up your ex to talk about your private life. Hey, hello! Which planet are you from? Ex means GONE! Nothing doing! Get a life or get a cucumber and use it on yourself. These are self-centered people who think the whole universe revolves around them. Maybe they get orgasm looking at their own shadow.
Talk about EXs..how do you spell that? Exes? EX’s? Whatever. Some ex still think they own you. In a rather complex scenario, a friend, who is an Ex of someone who is an Ex of another, is still fighting a war with the other two Exs. Okay, that’s a little confusing. Let’s call this friend Ex-A; her ex we call Ex-M, while his other Ex we shall call her Ex-B. Why the odd letter arrangement? M is for male, while B comes after A. Ex-B recently sent an e-mail to ex-M about some gory details of what ex-A did. Question One: why should ex-M care about what ex-A does? She is his EX after all, right? But ex-M goes ballistics and shouts profanities at her. Silly billy. Question Two: why should ex-B even bother doing such a thing, unless she is sick from something she’s ingested over the years. We’ll come to that later.
This reminds me of Glaucoma Monkey who, almost three weeks ago, thought he still had some perverted rights over his ex. I had to whack him to make him understand the reality. Maybe that is the only way for people to understand things – give them a good whacking.
EXs are supposed to remain friends; you have both shared something through the years, or months. But like some friends, EXs can be a pain in the rear. I treat my EXs like friends, but they take advantage of my soft stance towards them. I won’t elaborate here as I have written enough about them in the past. Suffice to say that I am cutting them some long slack and hope they hang themselves soon.
In a related development, there are three common friends. Friend A and Friend B play hockey, but Friend C is a footballer. When Friend A has a problem with Friend D who is also a hockey player, and would like to confide in both friends B and C, Friend B advised Friend A against calling Friend C in because Friend C does not belong to their group – and they are all common friends. Weird? I think I’d stand a better chance at sanity counting the number of stars in the night sky. These are friends who love to run your life for you – dictators in a small sense.
Some are just friends with you because of either who you are, or because they think you should be going out with them. The moment you tell them to back off, they become your enemy. Sore losers.
So choose your friends carefully, and treasure those you can have as best friends. And keep the rubbish out. It’s healthy that way. The rubbish would normally, by some freak chance, come from relatively the same area as the other rubbish. Maybe all their shit’s contaminated their water table – the very source of drinking water that they, in that area, have.
And I am easily amused by this best friend of mine who was imitating every moves of a boy on ASTRO CERIA’s Tom Tom Bak>. She’s one of my best friends. And no one can change that status of ours.
Extra Virgin (WARNING: This Is A Private Joke)
Dalie…this explains why you can hardly hear the voice…extra virgin, tatak munyi punya.
Get Well Soon, My Brother
I received a text from Oneon saying that a former colleague and a good brother of mine, Jai the Bhai, or better known as Faizal Sanusi (former Deputy Youth Chief of PKR), has been hospitalised for heart attack. He is now in CICU of the UMMC and is not allowed to receive visitors at least until tomorrow.
He was returning from KLIA with another colleague after a meeting when he had the heart attack.
Get well soon, bro. And please have good rest after you’re discharged. We still need you to attend this year’s Ramadhan’s Perjumpaan Talam 4 Muka.
Talam 4 Muka 7th October 2007, Uptown Mosque – Besut Stud a.k.a Ah Keong, Lan Chao, Jai the Bhai, SeaDemon
Just The Way You Look Tonight
Dinner last night was great. It was better than expected. Great view, great ambience, and most of all, great company.
I was feeling lucky
One of my favourites – Smoked Salmon
Food
Prawns
And I sang her this song…
Meeting An Old Friend
2nd Lieutenant (now Major) Fazli Sabrin, and I, during an ops along the Strait of Malacca
I was with Yummy Baby after DSA08 Plus 2 and have just finished meeting some friends for tea; and as we were leaving, I saw a familiar figure. His eyes widened, and so did mine, and we both exclaimed at the same time, “Woi, Kamdo! “(a way of saying the word ‘Commando’). We hugged each other for quite some time.
Enter Major Fazli Sabrin, RMAF; a test pilot for the Sukhoi Su-30 MKM, the latest air superiority multirole fighter in our Air Force’s inventory. Now attached to No.11 Squadron, based at RMAFB Gong Kedak, Fazli was a junior of mine (by 2 intakes) and, like me, was also a HANDAU (now PASKAU) officer.
Fazli and I first met in 1991 when we both represented the Air Force in the M-16 Shooting Proficiency Test (another term for ‘shooting competition’) at the Kem Syed Putra in Tambun, Ipoh (home of a Army Rangers battalion then). We won. Then early 1992, he was teamed with me in an ops along the Strait of Malacca for six months, and became both my 2-I/C (2nd in Command), and also my best buddy. After the team was disbanded with the end of the ops, I was transfered to Ipoh while he was transfered to what was then RMAFB Kluang (now home of the Army Air Corps).
When the Air Force was facing a shortage of pilots, he volunteered to give up his blue beret for a wing, and reported to Alor Setar in 1994, where I was the OC of No.107 Squadron HANDAU; and he once prepped my aircraft so I could do an evening flight to Langkawi to meet my Thai counterparts for a border intelligence discussions (PC-7s rarely fly after 1600 hours then, except during night flying exercises, and my twilight flight was a rare exception). I chose him to prep my aircraft because I could trust him with my life.
I lost touch with him after I left the Air Force in December 1995, but found out he was flying the Hawks from RMAFB Butterworth.
Poor Yummy Baby had to stand and wait while these two old friends exchanged notes for a while.
It is good to know that a good man like him is now part of the mainstay of the defence of our airspace.
Take Me Back
I think I’ve been on dry land for too long this time.
Almost three weeks now.
Still sniffling…maybe the air above the sea is too contaminated for me.
Maybe the things above the sea is bad for me.
Maybe it’s time I go back underwater – to be amongst the things that calm me; among the things that do not hurt me; things that help set my mind free.
Maybe it is time…so, please take me back where I belong.
Go Buy A Flask If You Have Time To Blog
Thermos vacuum flasks.
Handy stuff.
I remember the old thermos flasks that used cork as cover. Flowery, very Made-In-China stuff. After a few hours, the hot water inside turns cold. Nevertheless, those things worked while better insulation methods were being experimented. Until that happened, we were all at the mercy of very fragile thermos flasks that had this condom-thin glass tubing inside that breaks everytime the thermos falls and hits the ground.
I used to carry one to the office. It would be filled with either of my favourite soups: mushroom, minestrone, asparagus – of course I cannot put in French Onion soup, which is another favourite of mine.
Nisaa broke one the other day. I guess I will have to buy a new one. As busy as I may seem nowadays, I make time to buy flasks. It doesn’t take long: only slightly longer than blogging, and even longer than a short call to ask a friend how he/she is doing; and definitely longer than having to call other people to tell them I’ll be needing my flask because it is a symbolic ritual of this new flask religion I am embracing.
So, go buy a flask, people. It’s cheap, and you don’t have to harrass other people by calling them for one.
DSA08 – Day Two
Another day, same place, same stuff. This time Forlorn Soldier and I have had a good talk with Peter after the show ended, and with Amit (an Adnan Khashoggi in the making) at the VIP Lounge. Countloon and Mocha were there with Majors Ho and Joshua. I bumped into so many seniors and squadmates who have either left the service, or are still serving; as well as some immediate juniors. Boy, even without hair, and 20 kilos more, I still look younger than they do.
Briefing the outgoing Chief of the Navy
I wanna buy one of this so I will have no problem parking and going through the jam
Forlorn Soldier and his private signing ceremony…he’s gonna sign away his private
The gang came: (l to r) Mocha, Countloon, Major Ho, SeaDemon, Major Joshua
After the show, it was food and drinks time…
Nasi Ulam
Daging Kambing Bakar
Keropok berkeju
Jus limau ice blended bergaram
After that session, driving back was a challenge…hehehe. Should have driven that tracked APC.
SeaDemon Says 
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