Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Either Pointless, or Anger-Inducing

Dum dee dum dee dum~
All images are copied from various links. Please forgive me for I am just too damn lazy to produce my own images, although I thought it would have been a delightful experience to run around in a public toilet with a camera. :3

Imma nag about either pointless inventions, or anger-inducing, unclassified... stuffs.


# 1 - Toilet Squatters.



You filthy, uncivilized, inconsiderate unevolved apes!! Why the hell do you just have the need to squat on a seating toilet??

You can't deny this fact. 
In Malaysia, when you go to a public toilet, out of, say, five cubicles, four cubicles are installed with squat toilets; leaving only one seating toilet. But why the fuck must these squatters NOT spare the seats and lovingly leave their goddamn footprints on the poor helpless seats?! WHY??



Does your retarded brain genuinely thinks that the sole of your shoes are purer than my ass??

Be it for number one or number two, when you're born with the female genitals, you've got to sit and do it. You can't just stand against a wall and pee. I don't like squatting toilets, and that is my own preference! If you think I'm practicing double-standard about peeing/shitting position, then be it! But what about the handicapped people? Is it their fault that they don't have the privileged to enjoy that indescribable pleasure of squatting as most of you normal apes do??




Does that mean that, due to their misfortune, they just gotta suck it up and just rub their asses against the seats that has been soiled by that shoe-soles of yours which have walked on a green field studded with dog poo and the rich, highly-concentrated fish blood on the floor of a wet market?

Did you even know that squatting on the porcelain bowls, which are not made to take the whole weight of your body when pressed at only two points, can be freaking dangerous for your ass?

True story; I have a friend who used to squat on seating toilets. The bowl broke and cut through one side of her ass cheeks. Took her three months before she could walk again. Not to mention, screaming nightmares that woke her up countless times. She do not even dare to look at toilet seats now.

Although, it wasn't really amusing to know that if she can't find a squat toilet, she'd squat on the floor of a seating toilet to do her thing. Eff... Some people just cannot be taught.

For the love of God, and the love of the asses of the handicapped, STOP SQUATTING ON A PUBLIC TOILET'S SEAT!!



# 2 - Queue-skippers.



We all have to agree that this is the most irritating, brainless kind of creature that we all would love to exterminate from the face of the Earth.

What the hell makes you think that you, or whatever your business is, is so much more important than every body else, that you have full authority to just skip everyone else in front of you and march straight towards the counter/the-front-of-whatever-you-are-queuing-for?!

I am blessed with the opportunity to see this almost daily at work. No matter what, no matter how, there are just some of these dumbasses who strive to irritate just about everyone else.

How can it not cause me to want to commit a murder? Countless times it has been that as I'm attending to a guest who comes in first, when another thickhead just barge his/her stupid face right in front of me, not minding the guest who was ALREADY there, with the highest confidence that I will drop whatever that I was doing and attend to him/her first.

If you have no respect for me, try to find it in your worm-infested brain, to have some respect for the other person in front of you, who is also a paying customer.

The best drama I've watched was the fight between one snobby bitch, and one hopelessly sleepy guy. I can't recall if I've narrated this before, but I'm going to tell it again anyway. :p

So the snobby bitch checked-in, and things proceeded as normal, and snobby bitch left for her room. Less than ten minutes later, sleepy guy came, and in the middle of processing his information, snobby bitch came back and, without even acknowledging the sleepy guy, she screeched, " EXCUSE ME, THIS ROOM IS TOO FAR FROM THE LOBBY. YOU KNOW I PAID THOUSANDS FOR MY MEMBERSHIP, AND I DON'T DESERVE TO BE TREATED LIKE THIS, I'M A GOLD-LEVEL MEMBER, SO I ASSUME I'M SUPPOSED TO GET BLABLABLA...". Sleepy guy, having his patience growing really thin, barked at the snobby bitch, "YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH MONEY, YOU IDIOT! SHE IS FILLING UP MY FORM SO JUST WAIT FOR YOUR TURN!!"
And so, snobby bitch just stood there, finally in silence, and waited patiently. Whatever happened after that doesn't matter because its not the point of the issue. But she could have avoided being publicly humiliated if she only had the decency to respect and wait for her turn.

Seriously, why do you have to be so dumb to absorb some simple common sense?



#3 - Toothpaste Dispenser

Really? You need the kind help of a tool to squeeze out toothpaste from the tube? You are THAT weak? So how the hell do you have the energy to spoon food into your mouth?

When I look at a toothpaste dispenser, I can't help but to think, "what kind of world am I living in?" because I just cannot brain the fact that we humans are made with hands and fingers, yet we choose to put the energy and effort to come up with an invention, then relay the task of squeezing toothpaste out of it's tube to it. I mean.. WHAT ABOUT ALL THE ENDANGERED PANDAS AND STARVING CHILDREN?!

I cannot ramble more on this. I have made my points.

Same idea goes for apple slicers. Why the fu... Nevermind.


#4 - Images on Cigarette Boxes



I think it started less than five years back that the government decided that it is a brilliant idea to print gore illustrations of sickness that can get on you if you are a smoker, on cigarettes box.

Pfft. Nothing happened. People are still burning off their money on it.

You see, 70% of smokers in this country are Muslims. We all know that Muslims are allergic to PORK.
So here's a better idea.



Have this pictures on the boxes instead. I honestly think it'll work better.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Classy or Trashy?

I'm in the mood to swear, and go all foul-mouthed. :P

I put on make up because I do not have that naturally flawless porcelain skin that is NOT uneven nor unblemished. It does help to make me feel that I look better, especially when needed. Most of the time, I put on makeup for work, because nobody wants to see pale-faced, panda-eyed creature filling up their registration card when they check-in into a hotel. Also, when I attend to complaining guests (which is what I mainly do :( ), it helps to play cute better. Pale-faced, panda-eyed zombies aren't calming. :p

Hoteliers know better; we've got to look pleasant. Even if you're fat and round and whatnot, as long as you find a way to look pleasant, and know how to do the job, you're in.

But there is a limit to everything. I cannot bear it any longer; looking at girls putting on make-up that makes them look cheaper than Chow Kit hookers. Seriously, what's with the grey face ya'll??

When you look into the mirror as you cake your face on with make up, did you not see that there are two different tones on your face and on your neck; and that the tone on your face looks like you've slapped it with thermal clay mud?

This is the only successful way to put clay mud on your skin and still look decent

It looks bad as it is, and it looks worse in pictures! I can just go to my Facebook account and take some pictures of people whom I know in real life and put them up here to illustrate my points, but as I've mentioned before, I'd rather use my own face. So do appreciate my effort to go on and put on make up on my face and look ridiculous!


This is the best that I can get from the lighting in my room. forgive me for not being dedicated in producing materials for my blog illustration.

Look closely, you can see that the colour of the face doesn't match the colour of the neck. Do you know why the colour of your skin turns into this grey-ish tone like this? Ok, I give up. My picture isn't really working. I still put it up because I've tried. :p
Here's a better example:

I'm Bunny, I'm pink, I'm always pretty~

Not only your face differs from your neck, but your eyebrows are dusty-looking. :p

It's because you bitches think that you're fairer than what you actually are. That's right, that foundation or BB cream and compact powder that you are using is too damn light for your tone.

I discovered foundation cream when I was in Form 2, and I used it religiously everyday, even for school, and I remember some fuckers at school called me "Opera" (don't think I don't know, you skimpy bitch!); a term commonly used to refer to a heavily-coloured face. Weren't we all idiots when we were fourteen?

My mistake at that time, besides the fact that I used make up for school; was that I used the cream in an amount more than I should.

Years of experimenting with brands after brands, I finally found one brand with one tone that matches my exact skin colour; it's Elianto BB Cream #02. I will stick with you for life.

You and me, together forever.


There is a friend of mine, whose name will remain unmentioned, who only got her cream and powder colour right only after Syarina and I taunted her EVERY SINGLE TIME she walked out of her room, being so sure she was all dolled-up and ready to step out of the house. 

Every single time she was done with her make up, we were like, "akak, did you jump into the flour sack? You are so kelabu (grey), you look like the Pinoys we have here," -- for some reasons, MOST of the Pinoys that I know loves to go grey with their make up. 

We dragged her to the store, find her matching tone of compact powder, and when I showed her the the tone that she should be wearing, WHICH WAS LIKE, TWO TONES DARKER THAN THE ONE SHE WAS WEARING AT THAT TIME, she went all defensive, "NOOOO NEVER IN MY LIFE I HAVE WORN A COMPACT POWDER THIS DARK!!", and Syarina and I, being as blunt as we were, "Yeah, that's why you have been grey all these while; you are not as FAIR as you think that you are lah akak."

It's basic logic.

 Black + white = grey.

When you pile on that wrongly-toned cream of yours, and you don't see yourself as grey, you are probably hallucinating that your skin has magically become fairer, and you're also deluding that you're glowing. Hell, no. HELL, EFFING NO. You're just making yourself look cheap.


FOUNDATION CREAM/ BB CREAM/ COMPACT POWDER cannot make your skin become fairer. Face it!

Unless you're doing a zombie or a vampire make up, do not ever, ever, ever lie to yourself about your skin tone! It's just plain wrong! In fact, it's on par with how wrong a duckface is!

Now that you've come to your senses, and realized the shame of making yourself looking ridiculous in public all these years, I bet you are dying to change; because if you don't, you'd want to change your face with a girraffe's pimply ass wtf.

So here's how:

1. Search for that one true tone!! I found mine. There are tonnes of brands out there, and each of them has at least three to four different tones, and there are always testers at the shelves; there is bound to be one that matches you. Or, if you're frigging rich, just go throw some money to a make up artist and he/she will instantly lead you to one.

2. Be equal!! The thickness of the cream on your face should be the same as the thickness of the cream on your neck. It's also a common mistake that people think that they do not need the cream on their neck because there is no blemish or scar or whatsoever to cover on their neck. Just slap it on! Trust me!

3. Be moderate!! Unless required (tv casting, special make up, some shit), don't pile on too much of powder on the face. Just put enough to look matte. Just dab it on, then smooth it out.

4. Once you've completed your make up, NEVER leave the eyebrows covered in cream and powder. Load a cotton tip with some make up remover, then carefully wipe off your eyebrows. Powdery eyebrows make your make up look thicker than they actually are.

Now that I've lovingly elaborated, and you know the whys and the hows there is absolutely no reason to look like a cheap call girl anymore.


You're welcome, honey. No biggie.


Here's a camwhore pic of me on last... Raya... at work... ._.

I know it's a damn old picture, but I haven't posted it on my blog, so wth!

My nametag almost dropped...


Thursday, December 6, 2012

A Woman's Worth

*DISCLAIMER : NOT APPLICABLE IN ALL SITUATION. I'M ENTITLED TO MY OWN OPINIONS*



If you stay in silence, you bleed on the inside.

If you speak up, you are rambling due to PMS.

If you are angry, you are short-fused.

If you are calm, you need no attention.

If you swear, you need to wash your mouth with detergent.

If you speak with proper words, nobody hears you.

If you are crying, you are ugly.

If you are smiling, you are just trying to act cute.

If you decide on anything, you are big-headed.

If you sit and wait and do nothing, you are clingy and independent.

If you give some space, you don't care anymore.

If you spam the phone, you are a crazy bitch.

If you are loyal, you are doubted.

If you keep your choices open, you are a whore.

If you are pretty, you must be a player.

If you are ugly, there is no place for you in this world.

If you stand for your opinions, you are doomed.

If you just stay in the kitchen, you are backward.



I dunno lah.. Why don't you just shut the fuck up and go play with your blow-up dolls, eh??

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

11B - Let's Talk Ghosts.

More ghost story!

The story that happened in dorm 11B, as promised. No names mentioned.

Back when I was in my first year in Unisel, it was compulsory for all first semester of the first year students to  stay in the uni's dormitory. My dorm was called 11B, which meant that it was the eleventh room on the second floor of the building. The dorms no longer exists now, as a lot of students prefer to rent rooms and houses around there rather than staying in the dorm, and they have all been converted into classrooms. Each unit was made for about 24 students. My dorm had about only twelve students. The dorm also had one big shower rooms with five shower cubicles in it.

At the beginning of the semester, I rarely talked to most of my dormmates; the person who I spoke the most to was the girl who occupied the lower part of our doubledecker bed. Six weeks into the semester, I still couldn't recall half of the names and the faces of my other dormmates, should I pass them at the cafe or the walkway. I have always been terrible at remembering names and faces.

Since day one that I've stayed there, I have always felt the creep of the atmosphere inside 11B; just like how a dorm should be, isn't it? One night after maths class, I went out for dinner with a few of my dormmates as usual. My friend and I thought of going for shower together once we go back to the dorm - by going to the shower together, I mean going to the shower room together, then take our showers separately in two different shower cubes! 

As we reached our room that night, it was about 11:00 pm. Just when we were about to step into the shower, the girl who was supposed to go with me just went straight to bed. I asked her if she was coming, and she was like, "nah, I don't feel like showering anymore. You go ahead," because she already noticed what I still haven't; another girl in the room was behaving strangely...

As I turned on the shower, out of the blue, I heard the loudest growl; so loud it felt like it was coming straight out of the wall behind me in the cube. Confused, I turned off the pipe, to make sure if it was just the sound the water from the next cube. That's when I heard it again, a deep, loud growl, coming from the dorm; followed by the screams of one of the girls, saying, "That's enough! Stop it!"

Damn.. I haven't even shampooed my hair... :(

I put on my clothes immediately, trying my best to keep standing with my shaking knees, got out of the bathroom, and by the time that I was in the dorm, there were only two girls left; the rest have went out from the building, running after the girl who just growled like a tiger, and thumped the ground as if she had the energy of an elephant; all while being the smallest girl among us. I swear she weighed not more than 45kg at that time.

One of the two girls who were still in the dorm told me that the girl who just screamed and ran seemed... possessed. I was puzzled. I've heard tonnes of these kind of stories before, and all these while, when anyone told me a supernatural-related stories, even when they claimed that they have experienced it first-hand, I always doubted if they were telling the truth. I always thought that the 'real' thing only happens movies, and people can never be possessed by ghosts or demons or whatsoever, and people who act possessed actually had some underlying mental issues. But how could such a petite girl run down the stairs with enough force to make her footsteps echo throughout the building? Never in my life I have been this close to such a horrifying event, but that was just the beginning.

An hour later, the girl who was said to be possessed was brought back into the dorm; fainted. She was laid on her bed. Panic-stricken, none of us in the dorm dared to go to bed, nor talk about what the hell just happened, so we gathered around one corner, sitting in a circle and started talking stories. We went on like that for about an hour and a half, and as we did, each of us started to loosen up and calmed down a little bit.

By 1:00 am in the morning, that fainted-sleeping girl just suddenly woke up, laughed like some kind of villain, jumped down onto the floor and started crawling to the window! As she reached the window's seal, she just stood there, looking out the window, laughing and crying at the same time.

The group in a circle scattered off, all trying to get as far from her. One of us, who, at that time had the most sense in her head, yelled, "hey, that is our friend over there. We can't just let her like that,"

Na'ah, I don't have the balls. So a few girls dared to approach her and pulled her away from the window, and back to her bed. While she was still at calm, the seniors were called, and she was taken away from the dorm for that night. She was quarantined in a different room, guarded by two senior students whose hearts were, I'd say, made of steel, for they dared to stay with her through the night.

.
.
.
.
.

The next morning, the girl were brought back to the dorm, as she was finally at her senses. She was completely worn out, all tired, and she couldn't remember anything that she just did the night before. The growling, the stomping, the laughing, the crawling; she remembered none. She was just very, very tired. She attended none of the classes that she had for that day, and she refused to even go out for food, because she said she was too embarrassed by the whole thing.

Although, that was just not the end of it...

There were only four of us girls left in the dorm that night, as the rest of the girls had successfully found their own excuses to just not stay in. Pfft! In some way, everyone was prepared, in case of re-occurance of the ordeal.

I myself have signaled one of my friend who were staying in the dorm on the level above mine, that if anything happens again, I am going to just run straight up to her door and hide up there.

Just after dusk, she started showing signs of 'breaking loose' again. As she laid down her bed, she kept on rotating her body 360 degrees all over the bed, and her eyes were wide open, staring at all four corners of the room. Us, girls, who were left in the room with her were keeping an eye on her, while trying our best to keep calm and not provoke her.

By 9:30 pm, just like that, she sat up straight on her bed, and she broke into that eerie, loud laughter. It was my queue to RUN.

I swear if I ever sprinted like that back in my days in school when we had sports training, I'd be a damn good athlete by now. I think I covered the distance of about 7 meters in just three leaps. But I was doomed. She was running after me, because I was the only one who ran!

I just didn't look anywhere else but my front, ran out of the dorm, up the stairs, and within less than 10 seconds, I was at the door of 11C. I was too, scared, too out of breath, and too out of my head, that ask I knocked and knocked and knocked on the locked door, I couldn't say a word to tell them it was me who was knocking.

The stairway was echoing with the sound of her loud growls, and I was so, so sure that I was a dead meat. For some reason, I could hear her voice coming closer and closer to me, but she was nowhere to be seen. Later I was told by those who saw, that as soon as she stepped out of 11B while chasing me, she crawled  up the stairs, instead of running,

I knocked one more time, and finally I had the brain to yell, "it's me, Shafinaz," and 11C was opened for me. As soon as I got in, they shut the door. I could only make three steps, then I just fell on the floor and sat there. I wanted to cry, but I had no tears, and I was damn thirsty.

I couldn't cope anymore. I really can't handle things like this. So I called my sister to come and pick me up. I left that night, went back to the uni daily only for classes. 

I only went back to my dorm a week later, when I was told by a fellow dormmate that the girl has gone home, taken away by her family.

She came back days later, not remembering most of the incident, but in much better shape.

Strange, but true, as things turned back to normal in the dorm, all of us grew closer to each other. 

But it wasn't all well and all normal. She had more things happened to her throughout the semester, just that they were not as scary as the first two nights. 

Once, I got the chance to speak to her sister. I was told that that was not the first time it happened. It was so bad before, that she was breaking glasses, hurting herself and others, and it all because she was charmed by an envious soul.

These disturbance that she was burdened with were so prolonged, that she was slowly losing her memory of the people she knew, mostly her friends. 

By the end of the second semester, she could barely remember any of us from 11B. By the end of the first year, she was nowhere to be seen in Unisel. Friends told me that her family have changed her to start afresh in a new place, because too much have happened to her in that place.

Monday, December 3, 2012

Losing

The kind of sadness that is the closest to the sadness that comes with death is, the sadness of losing.

It's neither bearable nor containable. But it does happen.

Losing when I am not ready to let go is feels just like a deep stab straight into my heart.

Where did all the memories go?

Where did all that love go?

What happened to our hopes and dreams and prayers?

Do not you still hear our laughter from yesterday?

Have you forgotten my eyes?

Have you forgotten my soul?

Do you not care to take one tiny look at it before I was let go of?

The pain resonates with the very piece of the flesh, sometimes I wonder if it can flow out if I let my blood flow away.

There goes all of my pride, dignity, and ego. I'd save not any of it, if it means to not lose.

I'd rather throw my pride, and plead, then to lose.

I'd rather throw my ego, and beg, than to lose.

No amount of either pride or ego is worth the pain of losing; worth the loss.

The pain washes away with tears and time, but the wound leaves a deep, deep scar that hurts me when I touch it; hurts me when I revisit it.

If all tears has been cried and the the lost remains lost; the pain remains painful, I wonder if I can pull it out of me.

I wonder if I cut myself open, will it come out?

Will I not feel the pain again?

I just wonder...

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Spookeyh~

This post had been in my draft for almost 3 months, and right now I am writing with no lenses on. I am helplessly poor-sighted, and am squinting my eyes to read what I'm writing. I'm not going to proof-read this to correct any spelling mistake, so you're just going to have to make sense of any of the gibberish and live with it.


I've said it before that every now and then when I get so fucking tired of my job, I just drop everything, I take an extra day off for the week and get the hell out of Cherating; or get the hell out of Pahang itself. I seriously don't get people who comes to Cherating with the hope that they'll get entertainment as if this was Sunway Lagoon or Genting Highlands or something... This is fucking Cherating, bitch!

I apologize for digressing. :3

Ok, enough of telling where I went, and what I did. Nobody gives a shit. :p

So, while I was gone, my roommate (yeah, I have a roommate not long after the last one left) updated something on her Facebook and tagged me on it. 
Here's the caption:

this post is no longer on my facebook because this roommate of mine blocked me from her list. The reason to this remains a mystery. I've never done anything to you! Suit yourself, dearie. Idc. click to enlarge.

Immediately after reading that post, I whatsapped my roommate (like a caring, loving friend that I am) to ask her if she was doing okay. She said to me that she was, fine, but it scared the hell out of her.


According to her, the 'thing', which appeared as a dark silhouette stood on her bed, just above her head. While it was there, she couldn't move one finger, and it lasted for about 15 minutes. All that while, she could only hear 'it' laughing and growling eerie-ly. Sounds so much like hantu tindih, kan?


I myself have seen these creepy stuffs roaming around any random area throughout my one year of living here. Once, while I was sitting our of my room chatting with a friend living next door (Syarina; I've posted her picture in one of my last posts) until very late at night, I just suddenly had the strangest goosebumps all over my legs, and I swear to God I could feel that there was a finger that was wrapping a few strands of my hair with it, twigged it, and pulled it softly upwards. Syarina, who was sitting in front me, just rounded her eyes as she saw the side of my hair just went swaying upwards while defying gravity. There was no wind blowing. 
I guess that was God's punishment on me, for sitting in front of the door on the outside of the room like mak cik joyah while enjoying the pure pleasure of gossiping about people and things that were none of our  business. Don't we all do? Why me? :(


One other time, I went out of the room to pick up my dried laundry that I had forgotten about at about two in the morning. I ran back into the room crying, because of what I saw on top of the roof of the building opposite of mine; a giant, grey, furry creature resembling a canine, but at the size of a cow, with red, glowing eyes. I'm not making this up. Hell no.

Don't get me started on things that I've seen at the beach at night. I sometimes go to the beach at night, be it alone or with a friend or two; because what is the point of living at the edge of the land if you dont take pleasure in stuffs like this, right?
But, on some unlucky nights, or either when my mind plays tricks on me, I saw some random shapes of God-knows-what floating around, or I hear the cry of a baby right next to my ear...



I wasn't like this before. Spooks and ghost stories scared me not, until I witnessed one of the girls in the dorm back when I was a first-year student got possessed, and the scenes were much like what you see  in  the movie The Exorcism of Emily Rose. Maybe if I'm motivated enough, one day I shall write about that. this post already look long enough. If I write too long, it'd be too boring to read (excuse from a lazy-bum).



If you ask me, I'd say that I do believe in the existence of ghosts. To me, ghosts are just one of the many forms of the devils. The are really cunning devils, and there are also the dumb ones. I guess the dumb ones are those who go around showing off their hideous forms to people just to scare them for no apparent reason... Is my theory legit?