Wednesday, 14 November 2012

When The Big Guy Listens...

A friend posted this on his Facebook page.

So profound.

Indeed, it's all [1:2].


"Someone dear to me once said that we should always try to use our God given talent to spread His word to the masses. Maybe through songs, through pictures that we take, through whatever it is that we can use since the age where anything's possible is here and there's a lot more we can do to be closer to Him.

Never had I thought it's possible, but I realized that I can use this as a tool of conveying messages of good throughout.

It can be referring to your own religion no matter what or who you believe, it doesn't matter. It's just my own take on this. If you feel the same towards your own, then at least we share something in common. To believe.

However, people will always take it either way because that's just who we are. We've been brought up a certain way where we have sets of belief system we keep lying around to save our own hide when things get rough, or when situations presents itself to challenge our very core.

No matter what, this is just a projection of what I feel now. A little bit closer. Maybe you can relate. Maybe you don't. It doesn't matter really. What matters is you never give up on hope or faith. Because the littlest of hope can be a start of a bigger achievement in your life and in everything you do.

A trigger to be better.


When times are hard, and the cold is just too much to bear,
You held on tight and You showed how much You cared,
I didn't see it, I didn't want to believe,
Even if it hits, Even if it wasn't brief.

I was alone, I felt left,
Lies was sown, Heart bereft,
But You were there, You didn't leave,
Through the nightmare, even through the rift.

I refused and I retaliated,
Situations diffused and events documented,
But You kept on track, You were always around,
Kept pulling me back, keeping me safe and sound.

At times I felt it, I sensed Your presence,
Refused it, Rejected the essence,
But You kept on going, You showed persistence,
Even what I was doing, displayed much resistance.

Now I see, now I understand,
You've set me free, You've changed this man,
Plenty more to go, plenty more to learn,
To reap what You've sowed, to believe and finally return."

A Little Prayer For You

Dear God,

The progress is beyond my expectations. :')

Thank you again for listening.

...and thank you for surrounding me with your best angels.


So much Love;

Thursday, 25 October 2012

Me; The Bouncing Potato

I started mildly hyperventilating as soon as I drove into the car park. I prayed to God for 'coolness' and a tablespoon of confidence. (Really? Tablespoon? I'm pretty sure it was a big mixing bowl of confidence that I prayed for.)

The last thing I want is to act like a clutz.

I went straight to the restroom to check my hair.
And my teeth.
And my make-up.
...and my bum.
Well, you see, the back of my skirt of the dress I was wearing suddenly skimmed upwards. I knew it. The dress shrank! That darn detergent.

I said a little prayer as I walked towards the place. I swear to God, my heart popped out of my chest, made a loop-de-loop and bounced right back into my rib cage.

I arrived.

...and I saw sunshine.

We exchanged smiles, and said "Hi!"
No wait. I said "Hi!" and waved like a retarded bouncing potato. He just smiled back and did the hand gesture that celebrities do when a smitten fan waves frantically at them. You know that 'power-of-the-hand' partial-wave people do when you give them way on the road. Yes, that!
That partial-wave and awkward grin made my freaking day.


So uncool.
'So-very-the' we Malaysians love to say.

Damn. My armpits are wet.

Thursday, 13 September 2012

Oh God, What Did I Just Recite To You?

Al-Hamdulillah, I no longer find it difficult to perform my solat/prayers to The Almighty. There was even a time I find it hard to even say the word 'Al-Hamdulillah', because it felt so Hijabster-esque. I can list down a train of shallow things about the old me, but that isn't the main point of this post.

Imagine talking to God in alien language, that makes no sense to you at all. Weird, no? Talking to another person in a language that sounds gibberish to you, is also utterly crazy, right? How am I supposed to connect with Him if I don't understand jack about what I'm reciting?

Knowing the meaning of our daily prayers will enable us to feel more humble when we face Him, The Almighty Creator.

Google never failed me. Here's the beautiful words of the Solat:

Make the intention of praying then raise hands to ears and say:
Allaahu akbar

Allah is the greatest!

Subhaana Kal-lah hum-ma wabi hamdika watha-baara kasmuka watha'aala jad-duka walaa ilaaha ghayruk.

Glory be to you, O Allah, and all praises are due unto you, and blessed is your name and high is your majesty and none is worthy of worship but you.

A'udhu bil-laahi minash Shaythaa-nir-rajeem

I seek Allah's protection from Satan who is accursed.

Bismillaah hir-Rahmaa nir-Raheem

In the name of Allah, the most Kind and the most Merciful.

Alhamdul lil-laahi rab-bil 'aalameen
Ar rahmaa nir-raheem
Maaliki yawmid-deen
Iyyaa-ka na'budu wa iyyaa-ka nasta'een
Ihdinas siraatal mustaqeem
Siraatal Ladheena an'amta 'alayhim
Ghay-ril maghdubi 'alayhim
Walad daal-leen. Ameen


Praise is only for Allah, Lord of the Universe.
The most Kind, the most Merciful.
The master of the Day of Judgement.
You alone we worship and to you alone we pray for help.
Show us the straight way,
The way of those whom you have blessed.
Who have not deserved your anger,
Nor gone astray.

We can pray any Surah after reciting Surah Faatiha above, as long as it is a minimum of 3 verses or one long verse. The following is a short and popular Surah situated towards the end of the Qur'an called Surah Al Ikhlas:

Qul huwal laahu ahad.
Allaah hus-Samad.
Lam yalid walam yoolad.
Walam yakul-lahu Kufuwan ahad.

Say: He is Allah, the only one.
Allah helps and does not need help.
He does not produce a child, and He was not born of anyone.
There is no one equal to Him.

Subhaana Rabbi'al Azeem

"Glory to my Lord the Exalted".

Sami Allaahu Liman Hamidah

“Allah listens to him who praises Him"

Rabbanaa lakal Hamd

"Oh our Lord, all praise is to you".

Subhaana Rabbi yal A'alaa

"Oh Allah glory be to you, the most high."

AthahiyyaatuLillahi Was Salawaatu Wattayyibatu Assalamu Alaika Ayyuhannabi 'yu 'Warahmatullaahi Wabarka'tuhu Assalamu Alaina Wa'alaa'Ibaadillaahis Saa'liheen, Ash'had'u'Allahaa ilaha illallahu Wa Ash'hadu Anna Muhammadun Abd'uhu Wa Rasooluh

All compliments, all physical prayer and all monetary worship are for Allah.
Peace be upon you, Oh Prophet, and Allah's mercy and blessings.
Peace be on us and on all righteous slaves of Allah.
I bear witness that no one is worthy of worship except Allah
And I bear witness that Muhammad is His slave and Messenger

Allaahumma Salleh Alaa Muhammadin Wa'alaa' Aale Muhammadin Kama Sallaiyta Alaa Ibraheema Wa' Alaa Aale Ibraheema InnakaHameedum Majeed 

Allaahumma Baarak Alaa Muhammadin Wa' Alaa Aale Muhammadin Kama Baarakta Alaa Ibraheem Wa' Alaa Aale Ibraheema Innaka Hameedum Majeed

Oh Allah, send grace and honour on Muhammad and
On the family and true followers of Muhammad
just as you sent Grace and Honour on Ibrahim
and on the family and true followers of Ibrahim
Surely, you are praiseworthy, the Great.

Oh Allah, send your blessing on Muhammad and
the true followers of Muhammad, just
as you sent blessings on Ibrahim
and his true followers
Surely, you are praiseworthy, the Great.

Assalamu Alai'kumWarah'matullaah

“Peace and mercy of Allah be on you".

[ Taken from ]

Here's a cute and comical version in Bahasa Malaysia:

Wednesday, 12 September 2012

Good Deed Gone Wrong

A good deed you did lacks nobility the moment you announce it to the whole world.

I guess it depends on your intention too.

Friday, 7 September 2012

A Thought. Just A Thought.

"The worst feeling is when someone makes you feel special, then suddenly leaves you hanging, and you have to act like you don't care at all..."
- Twitter Quotes -

Sunday, 2 September 2012

Falling In

"I don't think I've fallen in love again. I think I've never actually fallen out of it."

Tuesday, 28 August 2012

Move Along

Third time's a charm?

I'm not sure if I want to risk it this round.

I'll just leave it as it is.

Because I'm chicken shit. Yup, that's what I am in this particular department.

Monday, 27 August 2012

Perfect In Your Imperfections

Like Chandler Bing with a dollop of Shaggy Rogers, dipped in charm and dropped into a bowl of goofiness.

Made to perfection.

Go Away, Please.

There's this Malay idiom that goes "Pisang takkan berbuah dua kali," and I somehow believe in it. But a friend recently told me, "Tu pisang Maylin, ini orang. Lain."  There's also some truth to that. 


I thought it would be gone for good after 3 years.

Goddammit, it's still there. Rooted, apparently.

So, it has always been there... for three solid years. 
The Queen of Denial knows best how to fake it. 
The Queen of Denial is a prowess at saying "Nothing's going on." 

Very true. 

Nothing's going on - on the exterior. But something's definitely going on - on the interior; in that heart of yours, May. 

So, whatcha gonna do about it Maymay? What?

What I do best... Hide it. Because exposing it will just break it into pieces. 

As a matter of fact, I can hear my heart breaking right now.

Saturday, 25 August 2012

What Feels Right Can Be Just Wrong

Some people say when it feels right, it's right.

But what if you're the only one who feel it's right, and he doesn't, then it's technically wrong, right?

And what if something that is theoretically right, feels so wrong to you? Is it still right?

Maylin did it again. Thongs in a twist as always.

Thursday, 23 August 2012


Why do we always like the person who doesn't like us back?

And why can't we like the other person who likes us, the same way?

Ironic, no?

Thursday, 16 August 2012

The Light (Part 1)

I've been contemplating about publishing this entry. I hope Mama or Papa doesn't ever come across this one for it will somehow crush their hearts. Probably to pieces - Mama especially. But my intention is to share. You might agree or disagree, maybe totally feel like I should be banished to some foreign land or be struck by lightning. But that's not my concern right now. Because if you don't like what you're reading, by all means, leave this page. That's a short disclaimer for you :)


I was born a Muslim. However, I've never really sat on a prayer mat since 2007. Let alone touch my prayer veil. I remember stashing it among unwanted clothes for donation. Without an iota of guilt, I did that. I can't recall exactly why I stopped performing As-Salat, or in laymen's terms; praying to God - Allah. I was doing so well in high school and in University, but slowly I slipped from grace.

After two failed relationships, I sought solace in clubbing and drinking (alcohol). It's not something I am proud of right now. I cringe every time I recall all the wild nights and painful hangovers. But anyway, I did it. Some people would put the blame on the crowd they mix and mingle with for all those bad influences, but a person in his/her right state of (spiritual) mind would be able to make a sound decision between the good and the bad. But apparently my spiritual grounds was at level zero, which lead me to ceaseless partying, drinking and other ungodly activities. Lucky that I hated cigarettes, so I was clear from weed. And drugs were just not my thing.

There came a point when I questioned myself why must a person pray in that manner? Why the 5-times-a-day solat, with veil and all? Why can't a person just pray from their bedside, whenever they feel like praying? Why must I perform such a ritual, with an insincere heart? Hence, I dropped praying altogether.


I can't believe I was that broken. I was spiritually broken.

I loved booze so much, I was thrilled at the sight of the words 'Happy Hour Discount'. I went from liquor to beer to cider to wine, and I decided to stay loyal to cider. Langkawi was my alco-haven. My new year's get-high sanctuary. The idea of duty free alcohol put a smile on my face, every time. Changkat-Bukit Bintang even felt like home.

What was going through my head: This is so cool. This is beyond awesome.

Alcohol turned me into a dimwit. The gibberish speeches, the light tumbles down the stairs, the loud banshee laugh, the blurry vision, the dangerous driving, the frisky and flirty behaviour (which lead to..ahuh. Yup.) and the excruciating vomiting series. I heavily regret it the morning after, but I do it all over again the next week.

With all that fiasco, where does God fit in? No where. I made no room for Him. I didn't even bother to say "Hey, thanks God!" for all the important things that mattered in my life - a good paying job, extra income, new relationships, the chance to travel and have splendid holidays with friends... I didn't even bother thanking Him for still having a wonderful loving family. He could've taken all that away from me, but He didn't. He could've stripped me off from all the little luxuries in life, but He didn't. And I was still an ungrateful minion.

Then April 2012 came, and things started to get rough.

Maylin found herself empty and beyond lost.

Tuesday, 14 August 2012

Drop It

When you're 30, the same question catapults your way from the people around you - "Bila nak kahwin?" There will be a season when the question is nothing but ultimate annoyance; like a group of mosquitoes doing a flash mob right next to your ears. Then there'll  be a season when the question is just like any other ordinary question. It means nothing anymore.

It's mosquito season for me now.

Mama stopped asking if I was dating anyone. She knew I was up to my eyeballs with those inquiries. She just told me something that I never felt was that important, until recently.

Find a man who prays, who makes a point to complete his daily solat 5 times a day.
A man who doesn't see alcohol as H2O.
And the optional 'been-there-done-that ex party goer', who's had enough of all the nonsense. Who understands that too much partying will just give you a hellish life.

Pretty much someone like me.

"If he doesn't pray, or has no intentions to make himself better, then drop him."

Those stern words from Mama haunts me until today.


Monday, 13 August 2012

So, Anything New With You, Woman?

I usually have a barrel of nonsense to pen down, but lately all of those trashy thoughts and moo points go on Twitter. Yes, I'm a Twitterholic or Twitter-junkie or Twitter-addict. Whichever rocks your boat, stranger.

My friends say I'm married to my iPhone. Indeed, I am. Oh, you missed the wedding ceremony, did you? Aqad nikah aje. Takde reception pon. Anyway, Mama always wondered if my handphone is actually sewn to my palm. Heck, even I wonder the same. It's really just a habit - being glued to the phone. A bad one, mind you. The first thing I do when I open my eyes in the morning is to reach for the phone, and check my messages. I know, it's not like I'm the President of Papua New Guinea or anything... It's just a bad habit that I can't get rid of. (Not bothered to get rid of, more like).

I go through Twitter, Facebook (not as often anymore) and my emails. And there's WhatsApp! WhatsApp is at par of a demon as Twitter. Especially when you have several active groups consisting of approximately 15 chatty people in it. Topics ranging from baby poo, diapers, breast pump to fishing, lucky ball, the human balls (read: testicles), and Olympics... and a ceaseless list of interesting subjects. Half of the time it's just pure utter nonsense.

I've forgotten the purpose of this entry. Oh wait, I don't actually have one. Oh yes! I do, updates! I blame it on old age, my airheaded-ness.

Raya's just around the corner and I can't wait to hop on that bus and head straight for Penang. I miss my cat. And Ma, and Pa, and Tasneem. And Tok. Yeah...

My baju raya is ready. Like previous years, Mama will always insist on making at least 2 pairs for me. Yes, I'm a spoiled brat. Rotten. There was this one year I told her I'd buy my own baju kurung raya. It burned a hole in my wallet. No, it actually burned the whole damn wallet. From then on, she said "No more KL-made baju raya for you!". Selamaaaaaaat.

 It's only 12.45pm, and my tummy's throwing a fit already.

Gaaaaah! Later peeps.

Thursday, 2 August 2012

Little Explosion

All of us were hanging out at Andy's BBQ booth in Publika (Solaris Dutamas) sometime ago. Bethany (Andy's wife) made these amazing, AMAZING chocolate gooey crinkle cookies for sale. I obviously bought 1 box for my own consumption (I don't share my cookies, mind you). As I was raving about the cookies to my friend EG, an awkward conversation took place...

Me: OMG! These cookies, are awesommmme! 
EG: Really?
Me: Ahuh! They're like little explosions in your mouth.
EG: Well that depends on what's in your mouth. *cheeky face*
Me: Dammit. (-__-')

Monday, 2 July 2012

Inch By Inch

I'm a sucker when it comes to inspiring sport-themed movies. I can watch them over, and over, and over again. Here's a (long) quote from one of my favorite movies; 'Any Given Sunday'.
Tony D'Amato's locker room speech (played by the great Al Pacino) has never failed to give me goosebumps.

5 minutes of pure awesomeness.

"I don't know what to say, really. Three minutes to the biggest battle of our professional lives. All comes down to today, and either, we heal as a team, or we're gonna crumble. 

Inch by inch, play by play. Until we're finished. 
We're in hell right now, gentlemen. Believe me. And, we can stay here, get the shit kicked out of us, or we can fight our way back into the light. We can climb outta hell... one inch at a time. 

Now I can't do it for ya, I'm too old. I look around, I see these young faces and I think, I mean, I've made every wrong choice a middle-aged man can make. 
I, uh, I've pissed away all my money, believe it or not. 
I chased off anyone who's ever loved me. 
And lately, I can't even stand the face I see in the mirror. 

You know, when you get old, in life, things get taken from you. 
I mean, that's... that's... that's a part of life. 
But, you only learn that when you start losin' stuff. 
You find out life's this game of inches, so is football. 
Because in either game - life or football - the margin for error is so small. 

I mean, one half a step too late or too early and you don't quite make it. 
One half second too slow, too fast and you don't quite catch it. 
The inches we need are everywhere around us. 
They're in every break of the game, every minute, every second. 
On this team we fight for that inch. 
On this team we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch. 
We claw with our fingernails for that inch. 
Because we know when add up all those inches, that's gonna make the fucking difference between winning and losing! Between living and dying! 

I'll tell you this, in any fight it's the guy whose willing to die whose gonna win that inch. 
And I know, if I'm gonna have any life anymore it's because I'm still willing to fight and die for that inch, because that's what living is, the six inches in front of your face. 
Now I can't make you do it. You've got to look at the guy next to you, look into his eyes. 
Now I think ya going to see a guy who will go that inch with you. Your gonna see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team, because he knows when it comes down to it your gonna do the same for him. 
That's a team, gentlemen, and either, we heal, now, as a team, or we will die as individuals. 
That's football guys, that's all it is. Now, what are you gonna do?" 

Friday, 22 June 2012

Hey, Here's My Number

Awww... How sweet is this! She put my name as the emergency contact...just because I'm glued to my phone 24/7! *sigh*

Thursday, 7 June 2012

30 In 30 Days

A post some time ago on my tumblr. Happy reading!
In exactly 30 days, I’ll be 30 years old. That’s three solid decades. [Cue to hyperventilate]
At 30, my mum had a 6 year old imp of a daughter i.e. me.
At 30, my dad (finally) got his scholarship to pursue his degree in RIT, NY and lugged my mum and I along.
On their 30th birthday; Ross bought a vintage so-called shiny MGB only to have it boxed in between 2 stationary cars. Chandler (chickenless and duckless) received crappy birthday gifts from his friends and a hug from Joey. Joey made a deal with God to let his other friends grow old, instead of him. Phoebe bounced one mile on a hippity-hop then later discovered she was actually 31, and not 30. Monica being highly hammered, wobbled home to a surprise birthday party, confessed about the box of Ding-Dongs hidden in her underwear drawer, then passed out after her drunken speech… and Rachel who didn’t take Chandler’s ‘Happy Birthday Grandma!’ card that well, drafted out her plan to have a kid by the age of 35, which then resulted in her breaking up with the oh-so-cute 25-year-old toyboy Tag (who bought her a scooter for her thirtieth, by the way).
It is the chapter of my life in which I shall mourn the death of my zestful twenties. The phase in which I frantically try to list down all of my accomplishments in my life, for I have none that I am truly proud of.
I’ve so many things on my to-do-before-I-kick-the-bucket-list that I’ve yet crossed out (in no particular order):
1) Bungee jumping
2) Skydiving
3) Get my diving license and go diving at some island with crystal clear water - but before that I need to…
4) learn how to freakin’ swim (I know how to float backwards, so that’s a start)
5) Ride on a hot air balloon
6) Get my passport stamped in Italy, Greece, Hawaii, LA, Miami, NYC (again), Paris, London, Scotland, Mauritius, Australia, New Zealand, those Scandinavian clusters (Helga would be so proud of me), and Maldives, just before the Indian Ocean swallows it up.
7) Become a feature writer for a glossy magazine
8) Make my first RM 1 million
9) Buy my own house or apartment
10) Get back ‘X amount’ from my douchebag-ex-boyfriend - just for the heck of it, not so much of needing the moolah. I should impose a serious percentage of compound interest on him.
11) Visit Disneyland and snap many cheesy pictures with Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Daisy, Goofy and Pluto (and the must-buy ridiculous big Mickey ears).
12) Have a nice close-knit white beach wedding - of which I won’t be able to do until I…
13) find ‘The One’.

Although I am insignificantly perturbed by this imminent transition, I actually shouldn’t have the need to feel this way, because it is nothing in comparison to the transformation that has occurred in my life over the past years. There are moments when I wish I had a time machine, so that I could go back and amend all the bad links. But things always happen for a reason, and as they all say, God has better plans for each and every one of us.
So, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t want to change anything in my past. I’ve loved, and I’ve lost. I’ve been through too many heartaches and heartbreaks. Love interests make sweet promises, only to break them. They made me high on endorphins, only to make me crave for more. They knavishly put themselves on that special pedestal, only to butcher the trust I had in them. They’ve torn me apart, but I muster up some courage to pick up the remaining pieces and move on.

Flaky friends come and leave, but the strong ones stay with me through crummy times and helped me craft the better person I am today. The occasional episodes of wrangling, which led to near-neck-wringing experiences, always drew us closer as friends. The lessons learned from these relationships I have with this cluster of people are beyond the worth of a king’s ransom. Having said all that, I am thankful to be gifted with this handful of souls who have championed my life.
My Kurshiah College girls will always have a soft spot in my heart. The eccentric ones, the mean ones, the cool ones, the queer ones, the fluffy ones - we’re so good at picking-up where we left off, and I love that about us. Nobody understands us shrieking, over-the-top drama queens more than Kurshians ourselves. You either love us or envy us to the core. [Flip-hair moment]
My primary school bestie - you know who you are. I hate you, but I love you more.
My housemates and former housemates. You make the home we stay in, smell nice (with softener).
My LP117 buddy. She kicks-ass, mine especially. There’s no accident I ended up with her, despite the early resistance. Behind the hijab/head-scarf is a rock chick who can’t get enough of Jon Bon Jovi. She swears a serious amount of times too.
My colleagues and former colleagues (and bosses). There are countless of times in which I had the urge to bury my head deep in the sand because of you. But it was all good. It is (and was) such a privilege to be able to work with a bunch of talented, not to mention nutty people.
My Batt-Kong troops. (I know, the name is slightly obnoxious. Long story). They are a duplication of the TV series ‘Friends’ and ‘How-I-Met-Your-Mother’ both mashed-up together. They are the people who you go to, to have a big hearty laugh with. They are the victims of your whinings and rantings. They are the people who you run to when your better half drives you up the wall. They are your shoulder to cry on. They are a huge pain in the arse at times, but you just can’t help but love them. They are family.

I guess turning 30 isn’t much of a nightmare anymore, huh? I still hate the idea of the big three-O though, but I ain’t stinking-up the celebration!

If Only...

If only you knew, you would change your mind and head straight for the door. 
If only you knew.
But sadly, you don't.

If only you knew how much of a train wreck I am, you wouldn't be doing what you're doing right now.
If only you knew.
But clearly, you don't.

Thursday, 31 May 2012

Who Are You To Tell Me I Can't?

"We are what we repeatedly do. 
Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit."
- The Great Aristotle -

There will always be people tainting negativity in your head.
There will always be people telling you that you are not cut out for something, or probably just anything.
...and the people who are most likely to run you over with that bitter-bus are sometimes the people who are closest to you; who think they know you in and out, who think they've got you figured out.

When your PASSION is larger than your fear, when your DETERMINATION trumps their doubts, you will have a taste of that bittersweet victory.

Don't let weakness reside in your heart.
Don't let others tear you apart.
No one shall tell you what you cannot be.
Because when you believe, trust me, YOU CAN make history.

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

Sawan Mic

I can't remember when this addiction / infection started. Like cancer, I'm probably currently at stage 3 going on 4. When friends start warning other people, "Kalau karaoke ajak Maylin, kena ambik bilik asing!" or "Sembunyi remote from Maylin!", then you know you have a major addiction problem.

If they had 'Karaokeholic Anonymous', my friends would sign me up without even asking for my consent.

In case you're wondering - No, I can't sing to save my life, just like how I can't cross the damn street and swim, but that's a different story. Just so you know, I'm not the only karaoke junkie who's confessing to this addiction. There are many more out there among us. Keep your radar on.

Like coffee, ice-cream, and the notorious alcohol, karaoke takes the sting out of a troubled soul. Well, in my case it does. And if you karaoke like there's no tomorrow with the right company, all hell breaks loose - in an 'ecstasizing' manner.

You don't need to be the next Malaysian Idol to be able to karaoke. All you need is a drop of confidence to belt out that favorite song of yours in a poorly lit room. Your friends really won't give a rat's ass if you can't reach that note, because they equally suck too.

But I will not deny the fact that some of the people you go karaokeing with really can sing or rap. They are the legen-*wait-for-it*-dary mic hoggers. But in my vast experience of karaokeing, you will also encounter that annoying and somewhat delusional human who can barely sing, but thinks he/she can, and still have the nerve to hog the mic, and at other times the remote control.

Here's a tip: Don't. Mess. With. Them.

Dos and Don'ts:

1) Don't sing along unless you are asked to do so.
2) Avoid accidently clicking the Cancel/Stop/Next button when he/she is performing. (Click at your own risk.)
3) If you are unsure if the song that just appeared on screen is yours, do not by any chance assume it is. Always, ask first.
4) If your ears are on the verge of torrential bleeding due to their distasteful singing, I recommend you visit the buffet spread and spend 5 minutes there.

I've been on a strict karaoke diet. It's been a month now, and I'm itching to sing my heart out! Any takers?

The Sawan Mic Hogger / Remote Control Witch

p/s: Enjoy the video! :)

Friday, 18 May 2012


It's about 11.00am and I'm in the office, minding my own business at my semi-cluttered desk. My phone started to vibrate continuously. It had to be the Batt-Kongers*. True enough it was. 

Both Yohann and Joe were on the hunt for bean bags. An excerpt of the conversation below:

Yohann: What beans do they use normally? (for bean bags)
Joe: Definitely not baked beans.
Yohann: Thanks Joe...

I swear to God that 'Battlefield 3' PS3 game is starting to feed on Joe's brain. He's demented.

*Batt-Kong: The name of a chat group on WhatsApp, which stands for 'Battery Kong'. Go figure.

Thursday, 17 May 2012

I'm Back. Again.


Oh, before that...


Out you go cobwebs! :)

I know, it's been awhile. I've been busy, pretending to be busy, trying to keep myself busy, and play the role of a busybody. Life is pretty much the same. OK. Not really. Do you really want to hear my rantings? I really don't care anyway.

See you at the next post.