Cerekarama Hari Merdeka
Dua orang kekasih bersiar-siar. Mereka berdua berpautan tangan dan saling merenungi. Kilat dan halilintar memanah, kemudian turunnya hujan lebat. Semua lari mencari tempat berlindung, melainkan dua orang kekasih yang terus dihujani.
plink: Sayang, kinilah kali terakhir. Orang tuaku tidak merestui kasih kita.
sayang: Tapi cinta kita, cinta sejati. Janganlah kerana ibubapa sahaja....
plink: Syy... * menutup bibir Sayang * Manusia merancang, tapi Tuhan yang menentukan segalanya.
Sayang: Buah hatiku *mencium hujung jari plink*, betapa malangnya nasib kita. Cinta yang semanis-manisnya berakhir juga dalam kepahitan.
Mereka berdua berpisah dan plink merenungi kekasihnya. Hujan semakin lebat, air matanya kian deras mengalir, kilat memanah.
Fuh! plink sudah
best menulis klise skrip Cerekarama!
Bangsa Jiwa Bahasa? Hidup bahasa hidup!
Sejak beberapa hari yang lalu, sebilangan kecil artis blog telah menyatakan tujuan mereka untuk berblog dalam Bahasa Melayu. Sebagai anak Malaysia sejati, saya menyokong kuat azam mereka.
Akan tetapi, semasa saya melayari laman blog mereka, kelihatan pula suatu yang aneh. Sebilangan penyumbang komen bimbang sama ada mereka masih fasih berbahasa Melayu, manakala seorang dua lagi mengaku sudah lupa akan Bahasa Melayu yang dipelajari hingga ke tahap SPM.
Bahasa Jiwa Bangsa. Bahasa Melayu bahasa yang mulia, setaraf dengan bahasa-bahasa lain di seluruh dunia. Walaupun sejarahnya begitu panjang, termasuklah peranannya sebagai bahasa niaga (lingua franca) sedunia dalam kurun kelimabelas, Bahasa Melayu semakin kurang digunakan.
Walaupun Bahasa Inggeris merupakan lingua franca terkini, seterusnya menjadi bahasa urusniaga dan perdagangan kita, Bahasa Melayulah yang paling berupaya menyatukan rakyat, yakni bahasa sebagai jiwa bangsa. Jikalau diambil Negara Cina ataupun India sebagai contoh, nyatalah negara-negara ini kuat berniaga. Lantas, ramai juga rakyatnya mempelajari dan fasih bertutur Bahasa Inggeris. Namun, kedua-dua negara tersebut mempunyai bahasa kebangsaan sendiri.
Selain menyatupadukan bangsa, bahasa kebangsaan memudahkan pentadbiran di peringkat kebangsaaan, tidak kira pentadbiran kerajaan ataupun syarikat-syarikat swasta. Dengan adanya Bahasa Melayu, bahasa kebangsaan kita, segala arahan dan perintah serta laporan dan akuan mudah difahami, tanpa mengira tempat asalnya. Bahasa Melayu inilah yang dimaksudkan rakan bloggers perisau itu.
Akan tetapi, istilah bahasa merangkumi loghat dan pelat selain daripada bahasa kebangsaan. Adapun pihak yang mengatakan loghat-loghat Indonesia dan sesetengah loghat-loghat Filipina termasuk dalam Bahasa Melayu juga.
Tidak seperti Bahasa Melayu rasmi yang perlu kekal abadi sebagai bahasa pengantara, loghat-loghat kita sentiasa berubah. Loghat-loghat inilah yang digelar ‘the living language,’ ataupun bahasa hidup. Yakni, bahasa sentiasa berubah dan membesar seakan-akan makhluk yang hidup.
‘The living language,’ kerapkali diubah perbendaharaan kata dan tatabahasanya. Akibat daripada perubahan ini bentuk, rupa serta cara bertutur Bahasa Melayu di setiap negeri, setiap kampung berlainan antara satu dengan yang lain.
Saya berharap agar ‘the living language of Bahasa Melayu,’ yang dijadikan asas blog Melayu kita semua pada Hari Merdeka ini.
Tanah Merdeka, The Land of The Free
'Negaraku, tanah tumpahnya darahku.'
Baris pertama lagu kebangsaan kita melambangkan betapa cintanya rakyat dan penghuni terhadap negara ini. Warganegara pencinta Malaysia inilah yang mendirikan Malaysia kita. Tapi apakah bentuk Malaysia yang didirikan? Apakah erti Malaysia sebenarnya?
Malaysia bukannya turus bertiga angkatan tentera, bukannya Dewan Rakyat dan Dewan Negara. Malaysia bukannya sempadan antarabangsa, pelabuhan serta lapangan terbang.
Pada asasnya, Malaysia terdiri daripada rakyat jelata. Bangsa Malaysia yang berbilang keturunan inilah Malaysia sejati.
Persahabatan dan persefahaman antara Si Mamat, Si Ah Kau dan Si Doraisamy di serata tanahair kita ini merupakan teras perpaduan negara. Walaupun berpunca tiga keturunan yang lain, rakyat Malaysia bersatu padu menyumbangkan tenaga ke arah kemajuan negara dan bangsa. Rakyatlah Malaysia, Malaysialah rakyat.
Merdekanya negara kita pada 31 Ogos 1957 juga melahirkan bangsa kita. Kita sebagai Bangsa Malaysia bersama-sama merasai suka dan duka selama empat puluh lapan tahun semenjak Zaman Merdeka.
Kini, pencapaian kita diakui di serata dunia. Selain bilangan besar warganegara kita yang membanting tulang mendirikan negara serta memajukan bangsa, terdapat juga segelintir yang mengharumkan nama negara kita di rantau asing.
Hari ini kita merayakan pencapaian Bangsa Malaysia di seluruh pelusuk rantau, dari zaman silam sehingga ke hari ini.
Syabas Malaysia, Bangsa Merdeka!
Terbalik
Petang lalu ‘kat gerai Misai:
plink: * tergaru-garu * Apasal-la baju ni? Rasa macam tak ngam punye?
Kawan: Eh, you punya baju terbaliklah!
plink: * tengok-tengok/belek-belek * Haih! XYZTakGunaPQRHantuABCSetanJKLBelacan…!
‘Kambing hitam satu, bos! Kurang tanggungjawab!’
Malaysia kita yang tercinta dipenuhi orang yang sopan-santun dan berbudi bahasa. Sejak kebelakangan ini, muncul pula beberapa tabiat yang kurang disenangi. Pelbagai kelakuan dan adegan pun telah dirakamkan di blog-blog yang lain.
Contohnya kelakuan si kambing hitam di system pengangkutan aliran ringan. Bukankah kita diseru menghormati orang tua sejak muda lagi? Tidakkah ibubapa kita mengajar supaya kita memberikan tempat duduk kita kepada orang yang kurang berupaya?
KucingGatal pula merakamkan kelakuan para kambing hitam ini
menerpa masuk ke dalam LRT yang baru sahaja tiba di stesen! Ke mana perginya kesopanan dan kesusilaan yang dilaungkan semasa melafazkan Rukunegara?
Kelakuan sumbang ini semakin menular. Kadar kemalangan jalan raya negara kita turut merisaukan. Tabiat segolongan pemandu kita yang sekampung dengan kambing hitam LRT menyebabkan kemalangan dan kematian semakin kerap berlaku.
Si kambing hitam ini menconteng arang atas muka Bangsa Malaysia! Suratkhabar kita saban hari melaporkan peristiwa kemalangan jalanraya ataupun perbalahan antara pemandu kereta, penunggang motosikal atau penumpang bas. Kadang-kadang, ada juga peristiwa tersebut yang berakhir dengan pertumpahan darah ataupun maut.
Suratkhabar dan siaran radio serta televisyen kita diteliti dunia luar juga. Akibat daripada pertengkaran antara beberapa kambing hitam yang kurang bertanggungjawab, mereka yang setitik nila ini merosakkan sebelanga maruah kita.
Jika kelakuan si kambing hitam ini tidak diperbaiki, perjuangan nenek moyang kita boleh dianggap sia-sia sahaja: hilangnya budi pekerti, lenyaplah Bangsa Malaysia.
* plink menutup pintu, terus meracau dalam bilik *
The day before
So much to do, so little time.
The template is satisfactory, but only just. It'll have to be tweaked on the fly from now on.
I have a small group of links, reflecting only my ignorance and unwillingness to put in the time needed to read more. That will need adding to at some stage.
There will be a Merdeka post in BM, which will need thought and redrafting at several points over the next 24 hours.
All this and a more besides, to cram into the next day or so. Who's been a silly little plink, then?
Honey, I shrunk the tea
Honey is a very nice sweetener for tea. So good is honey at what it does that I’ve stopped using sugar altogether. It’s not just that honey is sweet and carries its own flavour into the mix (acacia honey is especially nice).
Honey pours nicely, or rather, doesn’t. Honey is a trap for the unwary, making the journey from the jar to coffee mug /teacup a nervous affair.
Honey needs to be coaxed out of the jar. If summoned against its will and scooped quickly, will come out in force. The resulting glob of sticky amber stuff oversweetens and then we wonder why we bothered in the first place.
More commonly what happens is that on seeing the large mass of honey, we are overcome by indecision. Honey is great friends with gravity, so it then deposits itself on the kitchen counter.
Honey is dangerous stuff. It’s human relationships in microcosm, no?
Shocking….
Reading through my usual (small) pool of blogs today left me a little shaken. While kennysia.com’s
little experiment with a bad blog layout was interesting enough, the hardest punch of all came from none other than the wielder of unearthly fire herself: minishorts.net.
Someone had
plagiarized three of her posts. That someone would have been expected to die the death of a thousand cuts. And so she did, of a fashion: legions of minishorts’ most loyal fans took the trouble to tell this worm, this pathetic excuse for a blogger, what they thought. Some went so far as to comment on each of the three plagiarized entries separately.
The offending blog has now been deleted by its chastened author and there has been the requisite amount of cheering and backslapping in the comments sections of her blog. However, only one comment was made that went straight to the point (at time of this entry): minishorts did not herself engage in warfare.
Minishorts, who could have been reasonably expected to write rabid invective that sounded like the gates of Hades breaking open, only called attention to the matter in a post. The biggest shock was her entry
today: a statesmanlike speech (for that was what it sounded like) forgiving the poor sinner and exhorting all and sundry to move on for the greater good.
When I grow up, I want to be just like (CK)Two.
InveNctive backfires
This little blog was meant to be a properly poisonous piece of real estate. I was supposed to rant and rave and generally befoul its pages with, well, inveNctive.
This backfired spectacularly when I had a great big look around me. I wanted to swear and scream and whatnot, but I couldn’t: I had no subject material.
I am in a job that I’m quite happy doing, producing results and generally feeling fulfilled. Sure, my workmates have their own little quirks but I’m not wound up enough about them to send them up properly. I’m certainly not unhappy to the extent of swearing about it, let alone invent new words and insults about the matter.
Worse, I have my health, a mind that works okay and a lovingly dysfunctional family. I can’t complain at all. The most I can manage is a little whine.
What’s scary is the fatalism. Oil is running out? Yep. Global warming causing floods and drought? Check. Chemicals in our food causing hormonal imbalances and cancer? OK. Can’t do much about it? Why worry?
If I had any sense, I’d worry about my fatalism and my conviction that the human race can adapt to and overcome any of the above problems. We might undergo a mass extinction before it happens, but some of us will still survive.
Won’t that be nice?
A blanket apology is due to those who have stumbled upon this page hoping for an incoherent jumble of swear words, ranting and general unpleasantness. That I am one of a lucky few means that invenctive.blogspot.com is an incoherent jumble of rainbows, love and a sunny outlook on life.
I’m sorry.
There will of course be the odd occasion when I’m not quite as happy as normal. At those times, we shall get to see inveNctive in full flow. Meanwhile, I urge patience and happiness all around.
plink is changing shape
My bottom is a national disgrace. Once upon a time, I had a shapely bottom. It was round and firm with the right curves in the right places.
Then I got into shape: round.
Then I didn’t want to be round any more so I lost weight. I also lost my bottom.
My friend DrivesMenCrazy (DMC) has a nicely shaped bottom. It is round with the right curves in the right places (I cannot yet attest to its firmness or otherwise). Low-cut jeans work with DMC’s bottom. When sat demurely at table, DMC’s jeans allow the dimples at the top of her bottom to peek shyly over the waistband. The effect is made greater by her fair complexion and flawless skin. This, understandably, is part of how DMC got her name.
If I tried something like that, the effect would be akin to that of an underfilled gunny sack.
Things are now changing for the better. I have been going to the gym for a while and my bottom is no longer an object of scorn and ridicule. When once before it was all but invisible in the mirror, there is now a hint of what once was. There is hope for the future.
The future is my bottom.
Breakfast bliss
Breakfast this morning: tea and cherries.
A 1.5 minute brew of English Breakfast with water just off the boil sends a wonderful wake-up-it’s-morning aroma about the kitchen. Quieten it with milk, sweeten with honey and voila! textbook breakfast tea.
The cherries were a chance find. Fresh from the US of A, they’re quite unlike cherries from anywhere else. Before this (brief) report turns overly erotic, let us cut things short. Let me just say that I had breakfast this morning, of the two things above, on a recliner.
And that I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Gua caya sama Hokkienlang
Hokkienlang's blog is an interesting repository of all things hokkien, from everyday occurences to the odd swearword. The occasional gem shines especially brightly. My current favourite is (surprise, surprise) his
entry on Hokkien profanity.
Hokkien is unfairly maligned as a gutter dialect possibly because whenever we notice it being (ab)used, the exchange is laced with profanities. This does not automatically condemn Hokkien to the slums. Profanity marks its user in the same way that a badly written speech condemns the writer.
Does the use of profanity on Hokkienlang's blog devalue it? Put simply, no. Hokkienlang's blog is a living document. Judging from comments left on the site, it strives for and generally succeeds in replicating the speech and thought patterns of Hok kien lang in Malaysia. Put bluntly, if Hokkienlang's readers don't speak or think in exactly the way he writes, it's pretty close.
It's a community service of sorts. Hokkienlang is preserving a culture that is unique to this part of the world, swearwords and all. Hokkien is a working language with a growing lexicon. In this part of the world, it trades words with BM (lu,gua, rempah) and English (teh/tea) and there may be more besides that I don't know about.
In this northwestern corner of Nusantara, Hokkien and the local bahasa have both become bahasa pengantara, bridging cultures and generations. There's even regional variation, with a marked north/south/central divide. All different; all the same; all Hok Kien Lang.
Lately, Hokkienlang has become a Hok Kien sin seh: he's been teaching people to speak Hokkien
here and
here.
From repository to interactive teaching resource. Now that is impressive!
So little time....
31 August coming soon! Not only is it Malaysia's National Day it's also the day inveNctive.blogspot.com opens for business, sort of.
All my housekeeping needs to be done by then, with links, categories and whatnot all tidied up. I need more links, more reading material and more organization. Unfortunately, the clock is ticking down.
I need more and more, but have less and less.
On a slightly unrelated topic, KG is now in judging mode. Fingers, toes and eyes crossed over the weekend with regards to haiku.
Responding to a request for haikus reflecting Malaysian life, this is what I sent into
KG's Merdeka Day Haiku contest. GO KUCING!
Exams results back,
Tikam answers get nine A's,
My Engrand so bad.
OK, I'm off to get my Kamus TriBahasa....
And who knows, the above might just get me into the finals. Can you believe this though: haiku in English?
Once I'd started, there was no turning back:
On the difficulties of consensus
Peers are real hungry
All friends also say ‘cincai.’
Where do we makan?!
On the haze
Cats are in a daze,
Sumat’ra is now burning,
Best to cover face.
On our favourite pastimes‘Eat first die later,’
Sport to follow; food is first,
We’ll watch Premier League!
On *ahem* 'education.'Parents won’t say how?
‘No sex please, we’re Malaysian?’
Read KucingGatal!
On *ahem*Bohsia and bohjan,
Boys and girls, we’re all naughty,
Play at Dataran!
On urban competitionKupchai burning bright,
Concrete jungle left and right,
Hospital for you.
Urban competition againKupchai very loud,
Ev’ry night, go out win prize,
One night will win death.
Tengkujuh and banjirRain doth bring us life,
But when ‘tis the season here,
Flooding comes again.
KS: kiamsiap/kiasuHungry but kiamsiap,
Buying food not an option,
Samples at Giant!
M'sians at Car ShowsCar stand at the Show,
Kick tyres, slam doors, adjust seats,
Then thumbs up/thumbs down.
Malaysian HealthcareWe treasure our health:
After too much food on board,
Reflexology.
Poor KG now has to wade through reams of (dog)gerel-grade haiku, just to find a finalist. Best wishes and fingers crossed. I might even start up an Engrish Haiku section.
Watch this space.
Drama Minggu Ini: plink is being played!
Drama Minggu Ini used to be a weekly must-watch on Malaysian TV. Initially a series of unrelated TV movies, it quickly became our Weekly Tearjerkers slot. The storylines were invariably the same and the cast was even less variable.
Drama Minggu Ini was, in those respects, chillingly lifelike. So it was with a mixture of amusement, the feeling of deja vu and some trepidation that I received the news that someone was pursuing my affections. True to the traditions of Drama Minggu Ini the good doctor who was doing the pursuing started to behave oddly.
plink has instincts and the good doctor wasn't telling me everything. Trust my instincts, right? Someone nominally 'after me,' not all there/ sending mixed messages, right?
It came out one lunchtime from Third Party (a workplace acquaintance) that the good doctor did indeed 'fancy the pants off me.' Why anyone would be interested in my briefs is beyond me. I'm not even a lawyer, for crying out loud!
However, the good doctor also had a very-dot-special-dot-friend at far-dot-far away. This made me closer, more convenient and, possibly, disposable.
Like Kleenex.
What's a plink to do?
*
code-switching alert! *
I simply could not be party to somebody else's relationshp breakup. If they wanted to get into trouble, they would have to do it without me. Plus, if someone can be tempted in the absence of their special-dot-friend, then when kitaorang berserius-serius nanti how to trust properly? If doctor could two-time special-dot-friend, doctor could two-time plink too!
Habis cerita? Not quite. What will follow is the last third of any self-(dis)respecting Malaysian-made drama. You know the script as well as I do: question comes out into the open, truth meets lie, heartache, tears, don't-leave-me-like-this. Biasalah.
Then again, maybe doctor has seen the light and pulled away from insanity. Fantastic! Tapi, kalau diaorang mau lagi.... Better bring out the batu giling....
I wonder if I can sell the script as another M'sian-made tears, fears and more tears drama?
Watudu? The Cx Plan comes to mind. Doctor moves, I confront. Sudah, end of story, habis cerita, sekian terima kasih.
Isn't it wonderful to be wanted though?
Love and marriage
Just this weekend past, as I was mired in work and other serious stuff, an old friend phoned up.
Old Friend: Hi plink! Long time no talk!
plink: It has been quite a while. What are you up to these days?
OF: I’m getting married….
* Long silence *
OF: plink, are you still there?
plink: Waa..aahh!!! * sobs *
It seems that everyone around me is getting married and having kids or even having kids and getting married. Or having kids get married. What gives?
plink learns about the birds and the bees
While at conversation with cx a couple of days ago…
plink: … but the general tone of discussion is ‘No sex please, we’re Malaysian.’
cx: Yalah, then they get all indignant and huffy when we reach a certain age and ask, ‘Where are my grandchildren?’
plink: They never tell us; how are we supposed to find out how to make babies?
cx: My grandmother told me, ‘The boy puts his kkc inside your popok and “sort of wees” inside you!’
plink: *drink fountains from nostrils, eyes and ears* * cough * * splutter * * hack! *
Lek Si Kon
A number of words used here are not found anywhere outside Malaysia. A number of them will also be personal to me. This little glossary will hopefully help understanding of the contents. Everything is in alphabetical order, including some of the abbreviations.
It should help readers now, who may otherwise be lost in a fog of code-switching. It should also help me in the future, when senility has all but overtaken what is left of the contents of my skull….
There are also words used in the pejorative, which help construct the inveNctive for which this blog is named. Parents beware, children welcome.
Alamak: exclam;
Goodness!. Malay.
Angmor: n;
White person. Hokkien
Asrama: n;
hostel, student accommodation. Malay
Bantal: n;
pillow. Malay
Batu:
stone/rock. Malay.
Batu Giling: n;
kitchen appliance for grinding and blending spices. Traditionally made from stone, hence the name. Malay.
Batu Lesung/ Batu Tumbuk: n;
a mortar and pestle. Malay.
Busuk: adj;
stinky. Malay. See Chau
Char/Chow: adj;
fry/fried. Hokkien/Cantonese
Chau: adj.
smelly, malodorous. Hokkien/Cantonese.
Cheebye/Chibai/Cibai: n;
pejorative for Popok (see). Various Chinese
Cheesaw: n;
toilet/bathroom. Hakka.
Cheesin: adj;
crazy/illogical/irrational, used in the pejorative. Cantonese.
Chiu Khup: adj;
First rate. Cantonese
Dui Kut: v. intr;
body massage. Hokkien. see Zhar kuat.
Gaam Fei: v. intr;
dieting, attempting weight loss. Cantonese
Goyang: v;
shake/sway, Malay.
Goyang kaki: v.;
lit. 'to shake legs,' to have nothing to do (except shake legs =)). Malay.
Gwai: n;
ghost/demon. Cantonese
Habis: adj;
Finished/complete/end(ed). Malay.
Hamisu: phr;
How come? / Why is it so?. Hokkien
Hamsup: adj;
Suggestive, libidinous. Cantonese
Haer: n;
prawn/shrimp. Hokkien.
Hin: v;
see Pengsan. Hokkien.
Hor yip faan: n;
Lormaikai or other glutinous rice dish baked in lotus leaf. Cantonese
Ho sek: interj;
'Delicious.' Cantonese
Hou heong: interj;
'(That smells) very nice'. Cantonese
Huu: n;
fish. Hokkien.
Jom: interj;
'Let's go.' Malay.
JuuHuu: n;
cuttlefish. Hokkien
Kachuak: n;
cockroach. Hokkien. see Katjat
Kampong Kai: n;
lit. Village Chicken. Free range chicken. Malay + Cantonese.
Katjat: n;
cockroach. Cantonese. see also Kachuak
KKC: see kukuciau
Kopitiam: n;
coffee shop. Hokkien
Kukuciau: n;
male external genitalia. Hokkien pejorative/euphemism.
Lap Cheong: n;
sausage. Cantonese
Lormaikai: n;
baked rice dish made with glutinous rice (lormai) and chicken (kai), seasoned with spices and blended soy sauce. Cantonese. See also Hor yip faan
Mat Salleh celup / MSc: n;
non-whites affecting white mannerism (ineffectually), usually in the form of 'foreign,' accented speech. Malay
Note: the language used by MSc is very much like that which appears on this blog. I wonder why....
MoTCH: Mo Tiu Chut Hoei:
'Do not feed this troll'/ 'Not concerned with her/him/it.' Cantonese pejorative.
Mo Tuck Teng: adj;
incomparable, best of its kind. Cantonese
Nah! See?: exclam.
‘This is self-evident.’ ‘I told you so!’ Indicates that advice proffered previously would have negated (adverse) event.
Nia: ‘
Your.’ Cantonese.
Pangjioe: v;
to pass water/micturition/have a wee. Hokkien.
Pangpooi: v;
to pass wind. Hokkien.
Pangsai: v;
to open bowels/take a dump. Hokkien.
Pengsan: v;
to faint/pass out. Malay.
Perasan: adj;
paranoia over bad things, conceit over good things. Malay
Popok: n;
euphemism for female external genitalia (thanks, Cx!).
Seng: n;
Star(s). Cantonese.
Tabik; n., v. intrans;
(a) salute. Malay
Tiu: v;
to throw. Cantonese.
Tiu Nia Seng; v. trans;
Throw your stars. Cantonese. Expletive of choice. ;-)
WaiKauJor: see WaiLanJor.
WaiLanJor: colloq. adj;
Non-functional, requiring repair. Cantonese.
WanTai: v; see
Pengsan. Cantonese.
Zhar kuat: v.intr;
lit 'grab/hold bones', body massage. Cantonese. see Dui kut.
plink am world champ!
I became world champion last night. It had been a long, painful struggle. Major sacrifices of time and effort were necessary. Long hours spent in training, days spent poring over game plans and months of planning were finally vindicated last night.
The competition were all good at what they did too. It was a pleasant surprise when I found that I could lift my game to meet the challenge. All pretenders had to stand aside and yield to a superior artist.
On the podium, my joy and relief were joined by gratitude toward the many people who had helped out, giving their time and effort. Partners and rivals alike helped make me who I had become: the best.
The best. Not just the best at school, state or nationally; not internationally, within discipline or age group; best in all the world.
Then I woke up.
Mom! Dad! There’s a troll under my bed.
I am afraid of
trolls. It’s true.
When this blog gets enough traffic one day, trolls will appear. As surely as the sun will rise in the east tomorrow, nastiness will follow. What's a n00b to do?
The Big Names deal differently with the threat.The withering fire of
minishorts and the weapons of mass dissing (WMD) of
michaelooi are awesome forces of nature to behold. At the other extreme is the zen-like approach typified by the ‘I know you’re there but what can you really do to me?’ hugely-coconut-ed air of
Kenny Sia and the serenity that envelops
Suanie’s blog.
Daddy: If the trolls are real to you, then they are real.
plink: Aar??!!
Daddy: Only you can decide if they are real.
Mommy: *gives Daddy a nasty look*
Go sleep and dream, plink. Daddy's been watching The Matrix films again.
It's off to bed for me then.
Disclaimer
Dear one,
Thank you for visiting. Please stay a while, I need to share some things with you.
There are things on this site which hurt. Some things here are meant to hurt, other things are not, but will hurt anyway. People who are hurt say and do silly things. These silly things may, in turn, hurt us.
When we learn things that our parents do not want us to learn, they are disappointed because these things are from someplace else. They wish we had asked them about it first. Sometimes, they get so disappointed, they say silly things and we get hurt.
Please read on, but only if you’re sure it’s okay. Hurting ourselves is easy, we heal fast. Hurting our loved ones is different. There are things they want to tell us about before we find out about it ourselves. Once we’ve found out, it’s not the same anymore.
Sometimes that hurts more than anything.
The question you need to answer is this one: are you okay to share this with your family? I hope the answer is ‘yes.’ Even if it isn’t and you have to wait, I’ll always be here. I promise.
Last thing, you are welcome to take the things you like from this site. When you do, please tell the people you show it to, that we are sharing something that I made. In that same way, I will let people know about the things that you let me have from your site.
Thank you for reading.
*Hugs*,
plink
Utter chilliness
Check out the
chilli? Aargh!
Chili in my eye! Chili in my eye!
Check out the chilli?
A group of friends and I were out at one of our usual makan places, sharing gossip and making light of life in general when suddenly one of our number started to signal me frantically.
She was shielding her face and twitching her head restlessly, indicating that I should look off to my right. I did so, but saw nothing of note. Who was it? A CIO (Check It Out!), her ex, MY ex? Who?
The rest of us had started to behave like meerkats, with the odd head bobbing up for a furtive look round before ducking back down again. Still nothing. What was she getting at?
‘Psst… plink!’ her head was still twitching.
‘Whatla now?’
‘Can help or not? I got cili in my eye.’
N.B.: for those keeping score, right-handed, right eye kena cili.
Insecurity
There's too much insecurity on this blog and it’s mine, ALL MINE! MUAHAHA!!
Hang on a minute, this is not a good thing.
Note to self: insecurity bad, editing good.
Promise: less insecurity on blog.
Don’t wish too hard for what you want….
Naked ambition is truly formidable. The lengths to which those so highly motivated will go to achieve their goals is even more intimidating. Reaching their objectives is never in doubt for people driven so but what awaits them at their journey’s end?
Let’s take me, for example. I want to become famous. I want to have heaps of people crawling over this blog. I want them to pick over every little piece of it and to laugh, wince, frown or burst into tears as appropriate. I want to be good at what I do.
Notice how wanting to be good comes last?
In short, I want to one day be one of the Big Names of the blogosphere.
Me: Mommy, when I grow up ya, I want to be a blogger!
Mommy: * Pengsans *
Let’s say in the coming years, this all comes to pass. Plink’s reach has become all-pervasive. People wet themselves rolling on the floor with legs up in the air, laughing at my witticisms. Netizens scream in horror at some of the darker observations, standing or sitting awkwardly if those observations refer to the more delicate bits of human anatomy. Friends cheer my victories and mourn my losses. They wait with bated breath, wearing out the ‘refresh’ button as they yearn for the knowledge of how my latest date has turned out.
What would life be like in this future land of plink? If I get what I want, will it be all that I have hoped for?
OMG! I have a comment!
This was bound to happen at some point. I refer not to my having made reference to some else’s blog, but that someone has actually commented.
(engage little boy/girl mode)
* emits ear-piercing squeals of delight *
* runs around in circles *
* dispenses copious amounts of hugs and kisses in all directions *
* pengsans *
(resume normal programming)
This was not supposed to happen quite so soon. This blog is still changing, with many improvements yet to be made. It’s like having someone (friends?) visit while your house is still being built.
This is all the more intimidating (yet paradoxically gratifying) when that visitor happens to be one of the Big Names of the blogosphere.
(re-engage little boy/girl mode; ear-piercing squeals etc….)
plink's Celebrity Fitness
Bad eyesight plus near-obsession plus distraction at the gym equals:
The Real
Celebrity FitnessCelebrity-itis 1
Celebrity-itis 2: Eyes Gone Bad
Celebrity-itis 3: Where are my specs?
Mommy, mommy, what is the cow doing to the frog?
This was bound to happen at some point. I’m not referring to soft toy hard core, but my making reference to someone else’s blog. I’ve wanted to not do it because I have this idea in my head that it is easier to talk/write about blogs that I’ve read than to write about my own feelings. Then again, if writing about other blogs gets my own creative juices flowing, what should that matter? As Suanie put it, ‘whatever turns them on, right?’
Misbehaving with friends on the Federal Highway some years ago, we did something very similar. There were three of us in a car, driving from Shah Alam to KL but it’s not what you think. We had two soft toys with us, a cute little green frog and an even cuter white and brown cow (the sort that allegedly makes chocolate milk).
After two minutes of amusing ourselves (again, not what you think), it occurred to us that this was too good to keep private. A quick brainstorm took place, then we put the resulting plan into action.
Cruising slightly faster than traffic in the slow lane, we showed them frog and cow together in delightfully uncomfortable positions. Traffic between the Subang Jaya exit and Asia Jaya were treated to a celebration of the love that a frog and a cow both shared. Intimately. In public.
This happened some time ago, so I wonder if Suanie’s mind happened to be one of those that we warped that sunny afternoon.
Help, it’s Stevie Wonder!
My unwholesome mirth at
Suanie’s animal pr0n is so wrong. How could I (and a number of her readers, judging by the comments) be so tickled by pr0n? It all comes back to the definition of pornography.
Much as it shames me to admit it, there is nothing explicit about the pictures. Quite simply, the pictures show two (later three) soft toys in various positions in relation to one another. The next ingredient is Suanie’s wonderfully persuasive storytelling style. Finally, add two more volatile things to the mix: the tendency to anthropomorphism and our dirty minds. Voila, instant pr0n!
I’m so dirty-minded: shame on me.
Suanie’s taken advantage of it: shame on her.
Everyone else has also willingly succumbed: shame on us.
We’re all soft-toy hardcore addicts: so what the fuss?
Yes, I see you and yes, I am number one
Sometimes we do things behind people’s backs when we’re convinced they can’t see us doing it.
Sometimes, we’re brave enough to try it even in front of people who are so engrossed in what they’re doing that they can’t see us doing it.
A group of school kids was once this brave, flicking V-signs and the finger at bicyclists they happened to pass. I happened to be one of the cyclists and was not impressed when I saw what they were doing.
I gave them the sign that I alone was number one. Then of course, the bus sped off. When I pulled up behind the bus later at a set of lights, there was the row of school kids still at the window with rather sheepish looks on their faces.
We exchanged waves and parted friends. Don’t you just hate happy endings?
