Bzzt.

if you've noticed in my previous posts i have this penchant for monosyllabic sound effect-ish blog titles. i can't for the life of me figure why. i'm just genius that way. lol.

last weekend was recharge ('cas semula'??) at a'famosa melaka. recharge my foot! literally. we all had a mind-lifting experience of horse manure foot spa. gives a whole new dimension to mud therapy i'm telling ya. who needs volcanic earth? it was all organic shit (pun intended) from the moment you step foot into the venue. but blending into nature activities aside, the event itself was aight. i spent most of the night at freedom electric, partly because it was playing hiphop, and partly because it was the only air-conditioned tent.
solid gold was very cute, with the roller-skating ring and retro-ish music playing. very cool, very cool. then there was the foam bar, which was filled with, well, foam! everyone who walked out of that place looked like they were wearing Ugg boots looking like little eskimoes sesat in muddy land. it made for a very amusing watch. until, me and a couple of friends decided we couldn't hold in the temptation any longer and pergi masuk itu foam bar (me, albeit a tad bit hesitant of getting wet). the result, of course was us looking like the formerly described Ugg boot wearing eskimoes. oh we had fun! bubble baths ain't just for the Johnson & Johnson generation. kalau boleh install satu alat foam itu dalam shower di rumah, seronok beb!
besides that, there was the freedom AMP stage, which we didn't go to. neither did we go to the Global stage. oh but we sloshed to Godskitchen. Gods-bloody-muddy-as-hell-kitchen! (semua Reefa punya pasal! :p) managed to listen to Bass Agents play, mind you the stage was a bit far from where we were to see them, so yeah. we listened je.

all in all, penat gila babi (add more expletives here). my knees felt like popping off, my ankles were wobbly, my toes all covered in gunk. (ew, yeah i know)

balik, tidur. oh sedap betul tidur. nikmat yang tak terhingga.

Brownie Fine

Miss Shidot, you ain't the only one with a mixer and an oven. Pash got mad baking skills ma'am!

Pash brownies as it got into the oven.

no pictures after it got baked, coz then you'll drool all over your keyboard and beg me for some of miss pash's brownies. i make them on special occasions. usually when people come over to the house. this time, i brought it over to my aunt's for Raya. i know shidot is very 'pemurah' and posts her recipe so everyone can try baking, unfortunately i can't put mine up. i'm not kedekut (puh-lease), it's just because baking isn't a chemistry experiment where you measure each ingredient to precision and expect a perfectly baked cake. the art is in throwing a whole bunch of stuff together and voila! also, the joy in baking is spontaneity. imagine feel-good movie scene where girl bakes cake (read: tries to bake), boy pokes around, girl taps him on the hand, boy splats flour on girl's nose, and they end up on the kitchen counter with no cake. yah?

so if you want a bite, come to the house! comprehende?

selamat hari raya, maaf zahir batin.

Excuse Me Miss

i'd like to rectify a mistake i made in my previous posting. read through the last paragraph where it says 'moscow', it should be Baikonur, Kazakhstan. that was where the rocket lifted-off. russia rents the land from Kazakhstan after the 'dissolution' of the Soviet Union. yes, Kazakhstan was under Soviet rule. so were a lot of other "-stan" countries save for Pakistan. but that's another history lesson altogether.

alrighty then, now that's been clarified.

oh, our 'angkasawan' is a bona fide cosmonaut. apparently he is also gay. please tell me this is not true. (although i have people telling me who his 'partner' is.)

if y'all remember kenan from nickelodeon's "kenan & kel", do it like you know: "whhhhhhyyyyyyyyyy?"

Whoosh

i am seated next to the television, watching the live telecast of hours building up to that good looking doctor being blasted off to space. i mean, literally blasted off to space. this Sheikh Muszaphar fellow is bloody hell good looking. i am looking at him right now. (yes, my computer is positioned right next to the black idiot box. that means i can watch mtv and youtube at the same time.)

i haven't seen this particular personality for quite a while now but he's mc-ing the telecast at the Kuala Lumpur Convention Center. i thought to myself, damn. i wanna be this dude. i mean, not be him like being him, but be like him. right. you get the picture. anyway, Mahadzir Lokman. thwack yourself or anyone on the head if you don't know Mahadzir Lokman. i remember him mc-ing my aunt's wedding some 10 years ago. i was little miss flower girl and couldn't care less about him at the time. but i remember him being put to the grill by my grand-aunt (the bride's mother. very fussy, hence the exquisite choice in an emcee.) he sailed right through the whole function. i mean, it was only a wedding. only a wedding.

so back to the story. what story? right. the telecast. the blast off. to infinity and beyond! hahaha. i can imagine Dr. Sheikh's little boy inside actually giggling and grinning and squirming in his seat while making Buzz Lightyear impressions. hahahahaha! *slaps knee*
he's been interviewed by many, i'm sure. but most if not all the interviews must have been very serious scientific experiment-oriented interviews. what about those with a touch of humour? i'd love to ask him if he ever wanted to become Buzz Lightyear when he watched ToyStory. or if he's being under all this spotlight because he's much more good-looking than the other dude. i bet when he comes back, he'll be in Cleo's most eligible bachelor 2008. maybe he'll be featured on the cover of GQ. lol! suddenly he'll be Malaysia's next hottest celebrity, he'll be invited to movie premieres and mediocre award shows. he'll beat Mawi and win Anugerah Bintang Popular. he'll star in Yusoff Haslam's next blockbuster soppy love movie. roight.

i've no idea what the big deal is. he's going off into space. bravo! the nation's proud of you. but what do i have to say about it? nothing much. i'm your average 19 year old teenage airhead. maybe i should read up on this and find out what the hoolaballoo is all about.

in less than 73 minutes, he'll be gone. and right now in moscow, he's sitting next to two other mat salleh astronauts being interviewed or something. and he's wearing that astronaut suit. we've all watched armageddon. and astronauts are hot.

lagi 3 hari nak raya dah.

Horror Scopes.

Dear Pash, Here is your single's love horoscope for Friday, October 5:

Flirting's a great form of communication for you today. You're feeling so good you can't help but have fun with everyone. Be careful about being too friendly around those who are spoken for. You might ruffle some feathers.

I love reading horoscopes. Mine, especially. Haha! =D They tickle me. And it's so amusing to read. It's as if my future can be predicted by the mere alignment of the moon and sun to jupiter and venus. And it tells me nice things. So i like them.

My source of 'feel-good' juice.

Lai lai ci ci kang

I’m writing this in between sipping my laici kang and eating my nasi kerabu on my study table in my hostel room. I’m not eating so much of my nasi kerabu, it being my favourite Kelantanese staple, but I’m paying more attention to my drink. This being the first time I ever drank laici kang. Go ahead, you can point at me and go ‘what??’ This drink never appealed to me, ever. I don’t know why suddenly it crossed my mind to actually buy it when I was buying buka puasa/dinner at the Ramadhan bazaar today. Maybe my curiosity got the better of me. So yeah, this drink…it’s actually really good. I mean, hunger and thirst amounting to starvation and severe dehydration not affecting judgement, it is good! And it’s a drink that really occupies me. You would ask why. Well it’s got all this stuff in it like barley and selasih and cincau and winter melon and mata kucing… But wait, if you’ve had laici kang before, you’d know all this. Okay. (que: point finger and laugh loudly) Fine, so I’ve found life’s little pleasures in a mug of laici kang; made even more pleasurable when you manage to sedut the last bit of barley or selasih with a straw. Haha! I love Ramadhan. For all the wrong reasons, but I love it anyway.

Because I know Shidot reads me on a regular basis, here’s a message for you babe.
So what if you can shop next to Sienna Miller and smell her hair, go terrorizing the Spaniards because you’re scarier than a bullfight, travel across Europe to go mabuk with Hammy while she spends taxes the average working Malaysian pays… You’re missing out on the good ol’ Ramadhan bazaar! You can hate me now! But hey, let’s go on a one month beach bum holiday for our graduation present to each other. I miss you. And i love you, i do. But NO RAYA SONGS!! I'm not going to email you Raya songs. NO!

the holidays

i'm bugged by cellphones ringing out hari raya ringtones. text messages, phone calls... dude, it's crazy and it's driving me crazy. the fact these people just let their phones ring for awfully long on bloody purpose irks me too. yes, it's hari raya soon. i get it. blasting hari raya songs doesn't mean you truly understand the meaning of the occasion. so it means you're in the mood for festive cheer, but really. aid'l fitri isn't just about hari raya songs.

ramadhan's only half way through, chill. i can't wait to raya either. *smirk

burn scissors

i hate my hair. why on earth did i cut my hair?? whyyyy?? fine, so the mohawk was cool. when it was a mohawk. i loved the mohawk! but now it has grown out, and it's a mess of hair on my head and i can't make it out to look decent. i look scruffy like a furball. i should just get it cut short again right? yeah. except, now i actually want to keep my hair long and never ever ever cut it ever again. genius, pash. totally. whatthefeck.

i have ugly hair!!!! and it's all over my face. it's disturbing my face's pH balance. *scream*

and therefore, makes me ugly too. blargh.

gunshot wound

today i saw a person fall. from the high position she holds in society, the high regard people see her in, the almost always jovial and bubbly young woman she is, she became as distraught and distressed as anyone can possibly be. she fell, down 17 flights of stairs and came tumbling and crashing down, disgraceful and mortified. she cried. she cried and cried up to a point where she felt she couldn't cry anymore. not because she decided to pick herself up, but because she felt too lifeless. she couldn't move. not her hands, not her legs, not her body. all she wanted to do was to lay perfectly still and not move an inch. not even trying to breath. she contemplated attempting suicide. contemplating being the operative word. she pondered what methods would ease her of her pain the best and quickest way. she wondered if anyone will find her, and if they did, if they would care. she saw her life the past year flash in painful transitions before her. each picture a grim reminder of why she's where she is at that very moment. she never wanted to be where she was. she never was happy. the entire year, she was never once happy. only occasionally she receives messages from the people she loves and cares for. and that made her happy for only a fraction of a second that it lasted. she tried to pull through, living like an island. it seemed to work for a while. until everything caught up with her in a hurl of incidents like stones thrown to her face. now she lies broken. will she pick herself up? she always does. but will she do it this time around?


if i came to you crying, what would you do?

almost suicidal

almost, not quite.

kill me for being malay but i hate being around so many people of the same race for an extended period of time. where have all the multi-coloured skins gone?

is it their attitude? the way they talk? the way they think? the way their brains work? the people they grew up with? the people they spend much of their life with? oh crud.

i am one, and i have an indescribable loathing for people of my own race. how unpatriotic is that? but maybe it's not their fault. it's not their fault that they are the way they are. to have been born into an environment where the only people they meet and socialize with are those who tick the same check box when filling in forms.

i should be ashamed of myself. but i am not. so call me whatever.

i miss my friends. i miss school.

this place saps the juice out of me.

actually. i miss people who speak english.

dead didders

arr. hm. i received this mail in my inbox about a week ago and i've been holding off from reading that thing until i accidently clicked on that measly thing and now i'm agitated beyond the level of normal. okay fine, mild exageration. pfft~ you wanna know what the email subject was? you really do?

KNC 2007 motions

oh i almost cried. almost. i read through the list of motions that the entire Korean intervarsity debating community cracked over and i almost cried. giddammit. wanna know what they were? here, have a field day. maybe you'll feel like crying too.

Round 1: Korean Society
THW abolish the Ministry of Gender Equality & Family. (¡°Yeo-seong Bu¡±)
THBT commercial matchmaking businesses are detrimental to the Korean society.
THBT hostages should be required to pay all costs associated with their release.

Round 2: Ideologies
THBT socialism is beneficial for South America.
THBT Saudi Arabia should allow women into politics.
THBT the world should completely give up its effort to implant democracy in the Middle East.

Round 3: The Human Body
THW ban human body exhibitions.
THW harvest organs from executed prisoners regardless of consent.
THW remove custody rights of parents who deny medical treatment to their children on religious grounds.

Round 4: Universities
THW forbid political parties from having activities on university campuses.
THBT publishing university rankings does more harm than good.
THW prohibit corporate franchises from establishing branches on campus.

Round 5: Law and Justice
THW adopt a trial by jury for criminal cases.
THS direct election of Supreme Court judges.
THW hold parents responsible for the wrongdoings of juvenile delinquents under the age of 14.

Quarter-Final: Natives and Settlers
THW repeal all laws granting extra privileges for the Australian aborigines.
THBT only native languages, rather than European languages, should be the official language of African nations.
THBT governments should repeal land ownership rights of its native ethnic groups.

Semi-Final: The Third World
THBT environmental problems of the Third World are a responsibility of the First World.
THBT the First World nations should prohibit pharmaceutical corporations from conducting medical experiments on humans in Africa, regardless of consent.
THBT the British Museum should return its exhibit items to the former colonial states from which they were taken.

Final: US and the World
THBT the United States should cease supporting the Pervez Musharraf regime.
THBT the US should immediately lift all sanctions against Cuba.
THBT Spanish should be the second official language of the United States.

if you don't know how debates work, i am in no mood to explain. go google it or something.

now let me get back to almost crying. i'm devastated. *sniff

late nights

i'm afraid i'm repeating my irregular sleep patterns again. this time, it's grey's anatomy. 7 DVDs equalling to 36 episodes from season 1 and 2 of the bloody emotion-sapping, sleep-depriving, unnervingly witty (yang) and endearing (o'malley) cast. oh and the surgeries. you get to see the insides of a human body turned out and suctioned. yum. really enhances one's appetite. *sigh

i can't sleep much for the next week and a half or so. assignments aren't piling up, they're just getting on my nerves the nearer to deadline it is. suddenly this problem pops out of nowhere, suddenly this essay needs more information than we already have, suddenly someone doesn't know how to do what they're supposed to have done a week ago. you know, the most impossible things creep up on you and go 'boo!'. i'd rather be curling up in bed with a book and a mug of hot chocolate. or curling up in bed with a nice warm body to snuggle cuddle wuddle into. *ehem* err... yeah. right.

anyhoos. another emotional problem solved. i think we might have just outdone ourselves this time. it's like as if we've died, went to heaven, got kicked out to hell, readmitted to heaven, sent back to hell for a little torture ritual, came back to life, and died again. 7 times over. it's not as if i didn't already see it coming. i'm the one who brought it to where it is. say hello and then pretend you never met the evil satan parasitic virus when it called to say it's over. done, through, zip, zilch, nada, negative. kapish? comprehende? bien? no? well, too bad. vafanculo! i'm sailing through another dimension in my life right now, and i'd like to sail smoothly right through it. you can pick up the bits and pieces of your guts you left trailing behind you on the floor and clean the mess up. it's not a nice view.

on a lighter note, a less violent and graphically disturbing one... i am blissfully oblivious of the fact that i'm turning into a stalker but at the same time acutely aware that my behavior may not be healthy. (think: taylor - ryan therapist thing) eurgh. i'm not taylor. I AM NOT TAYLOR! eeeek! okay shut up. shut up. i'm a perfectly sane young woman whose emotional rollercoaster is fuelled by estrogen. and that's healthy. totally. yeah. uhuh.

oh god. i'm loony. help.

bawang pun kecoh?

oh check this out. a 54 year old man from iowa has been arrested for throwing an onion at his 27 year old wife's head. apparently he was drunk, got mad at his wife and plonked her with an onion. it hit the back of the woman's head and she told police it hurt her. she must've been a tomato head. lol. i mean, it's all good for anti-domestic violence and stuff but come on. an onion?? it could have well been an egg. but thank god it was only an onion. what if it was a mug, or a bowl, or a plate, or a vase, or a picture frame, or a lampshade, or...a ladle, or a pot, or a can of peaches?? (you get the point)

woman, i know the world is all for women's rights and all that but please. make some sense of yourself. a bloody onion... *mutters atrocities under my breath

jargons be jargons

yes yes. let jargons be jargons coz i know none of its meaning much less what the hell it's all about. *mumbles "Mintzberg...Maslow...what the effs..."

dude, i extracted keywords from like 6 chapters of management in half an hour for a test which was in another 2. genius! and i was up since sahur to finish writing a marketing plan in 3 hours and 10 minutes. double genius.

deadlines are assisted murder. but no one ever gets convicted. because no one ever really dies, or found really guilty.

i've been holding up pretty okay this puasa month away from the family. i don't go for terawikh prayers (my mom would go ballistic!) but i've been waking up very dilligently for sahur. which is very unlike me because i've never been one to wake up at 5am and crawl groggily to eat unless i've been forced to get up by my mom banging on my bedroom door like if i don't wake up and eat, the food will all spin to life and attack us. but yeah, so far so good. i haven't missed sahur yet. in fact, i actually want to eat. i need the food really, or i won't survive a whole day walking in the blistering heat to and from classes.

i've been writing in between finishing assignments. i felt like i had to get the juices flowing coz some people like it juicy. moist like chocolate cake. i figured if i get at least 3 songs down, i'd record at the end of the year. we'll see.

i miss my girls like crazy. each one of them. i can't wait to get to shah alam next year. cross fingers my application passes. it'll be the start of a new beginning of sorts. unfold a brand new story, brand new feeling, brand new day. and perhaps it'll be the start of something wonderful.

i want to pick up wall climbing again. i miss the sport.

grumble

my tummy grumbles like the storm is coming. *dark clouds in the sky*

and i can't write. wow. wasn't it only last night or something that i was going on and on about... something. see? i told you. my brain functions are somewhat limited given the weather conditions...and also my stomach's bewilderment at not finding anything to digest with all that tummy acid.

selamat berpuasa.

Jangan Takut

it's been a while since my last rendezvous with a pen and paper. managed to scribble this down in about 2 minutes, mixed feelings of desire and dreams.

***

angan-angan dan mimpi itu indah
seperti layang-layang dan bintang
hati tak bisa berkata-kata, hanya perasaan bisa diluah
kalau berpegang pada mimpi takut jatuh
pada janji mungkin sakit
percaya satu, hati tak mudah goyah
namun janji bisa berubah
tenung mataku dan lihat, jawapan itu ada.

jangan takut pada apa yang kau percaya
takkan lemah hati kerana cinta
takkan jatuh tanpa bangkit semula
kalau tidak seperti yang kau jangka
mungkin belum tiba waktunya
semua cerita akan terurai
satu perjalanan yang selesai, telah ditemui kesudahannya.


irama pola aura jiwa

Puas Hati

if you missed phlowtron's launch at planet hollywood, you missed a mad show. malaysia's hiphop finest, minus one bad egg. lol.

it was a good day out, a good night out. i am now able to withstand 18 hours in 3 and a quarter inch heels. and you can lick my toes after. hah.

"oh bawalah daku bersama mu oh sayang
kita kan terbang ke angkasa, ke kayangan..." - Oh Cinta, Warisan Senikata Malaya.

got my free phlowtron album, and currently diggin Oh Cinta and Suara Dunia. if you don't have it yet, check phlowtron.com.my for snippets.

Oh Cinta brings me to that someone. a very 'let me ride with you, baby' kinda song. the track also features my big brother Cat Farish and his Fabulous Cats. Adeep's vocal adlibs gives it that twang. you know you got it down if you got Cat on your wagon. it's a surefire mix like flaming lamborghinis. except, this track's more like having a Bellini while digging your toes into the sand on the beach, and baby waves gently washing over your feet.

"Bagaimanakah hilangnya nilai dunia
bagaimanakah isi hati di suara
bagaimanakah menerangi kegelapan
bagaimanakah ikhlas memberi harapan..." - Suara Dunia, Warisan Senikata Malaya

Suara Dunia is a track dedicated to the world, hence "Suara Dunia". listening to the song makes me see images of war and disease flashing in my head. those typical UN-type adverts...yeah, those kinds. Former member Arafah gets writing credits, but somehow i wanted to hear her 16 bars on this one. would have been cool.

other tracks include the single, Adikku Pandai Menari; malay rap in Bicara Neguran; the snazzy Phlowtron Jones featuring AtomDaBomb; a little bit of joget in Warisan Senikata Malaya; and Kau Harus Percaya with Lady D.

i am hungry. craving meat. a huge chunk of meat, grilled to perfection. i'ma go get food.

toodles bitches!

freedom

not mine. not yet.

but this my boys' single "Freedom".
in FOUR languages, son. they got it. you don't.
take a listen here.

KLG SQWAD ~ LABOUR OF LOVE.

Ratta Taa Ta

i find sean ghazi's singing oh-my-fucking-mind-blowingly sexy. *groan

take a listen to his crooning on 'ku impikan bintang', you'll probably have to control your insides from making 360 degree flips and squirming like a handful of wormies in a glass jar. well, perhaps only if you're a female species or if you're gay. but then again, i trust he can make any straight testosterone charged male with a ding-a-ling turn gay anyway. dammit. why???

i'm turning cuckoo. help.

i counted how many weeks i have left in this place, guess what? EIGHT WEEKS!! yes, you can't believe it either. but now something else is bothering me more than scoring a B+ average for this term's exams. something more frightening than not scoring a B+ average for this term's exams. shoot me. now. before i keel over and vomit nasty things on your lap. bwahahaha~

i'm just being totally ob-freaking-sessed! my future is now in the hands of UiTM's automated degree application system. uhuh. yeah. i'll be fine, the computer will probably recognise me from this internet cafe's IP address and let me pass through the applicant sifting process. yeah. ROIGHT!

i feel nauseous. all the time. like an overbearing hangover that wouldn't go away. i feel like i need to be put on a staple diet of flu meds. those little pink ones they give you at the UiTM clinic. which does nothing to alleviate the flu, but just make you feel better because it tells your brain that you've taken something to help cure the flu. uhuh. yeah. i feel better already. (ps: i don't have the flu.)

i feel like a monkey with the hibbiejibbies. i'm constantly fidgeting. i feel agitated. i need something to calm me down. calm me. down. now. *gasp*BELLINI*gasp*

eight weeks, pash. just eight more weeks. have self-restraint. and control.

i'm acting like i'm having withdrawal symptoms from quitting medication cold turkey. lol.

my girlfriends are probably as much of a wreck as i am, them already doing their degrees and with a whole lot more workload than me but i'm sorry if i feel as if they're having more fun than i am. (maybe i just miss you girls...and can't wait to move in, but that's another story)

suddenly i write, and i write a lot of nonsense.

Blah.

not very articulate when it comes to titles. so whatever. i haven't been writing, and it's obvious. perhaps boredom inspires me more than everyday happenings. perhaps everyday happenings happen too often to be of any significance that i'd write about it everyday. or perhaps... just perhaps. perhaps whatever.

ultimately, i am fucked up bored to the point of running wild and spray painting foul words on all the security guards' 'kontena' posts. LOL!!! (i really wish i could, really...) but considering it's my last semester, i'm appealing for a fucking bed for me to sleep on in the residential fucking college, i'm also a part of the student representative council secretariat, i want to be a part of the contingent to this year's VC Cup, and i want a fucking B+ average so fucking badly, i shall content to swearing right here, right now. (as if it isn't already apparent that i'm doing it right now...)

what genius made me come back to campus on a fucking friday and spend the fucking weekend here in this godforsaken compounds?? good grief. it was my own genius. i wrote myself the exemption letter, necessary allowing me to register on 13th July, the very latest. was that just pure genius or just me being too kind to help myself. geez.

this semester, although will only see 13 weeks of class and daylight, has me taking 5 subjects to fulfil 15 credit hours. great. no, not really. but 13 weeks is. so that equals a whole lot of workload within the short span of 13 weeks. 13 fucking weeks and i'm over with this shit!!! isn't that AWESOME!!! for fuck's sake, let's get this all over and done with in the shortest amount of time and the least amount of drama from classmates and lecturers, alike. but on the other hand, if butt-kissing gets me ahead, why not. if butt-kissing and butt-kissing alone awards me with the grade i need to graduate with enough to apply for a degree in PR, so butt-kissing is the way to go. that is, if all else fails. but failing is not a bloody option. butt-kissing, on top of cute and super bright genius induced remarks in class and either one of my arms shooting up in the air fast like a bullet to answer all those stupid questions the others can't answer is definitely a better choice. now Pash, pretend like you're the A+ star quality student you've always denied yourself the liberty to be. (but only because you chose not to be the A+ star quality student with a crown shining on your head.)

what i need to do now, is get to Monday as fast as the earth would spin around the sun, get my fees paid, get to class and around campus (ehem, library, football field, cafeteria) ...and start looking for this semester's eye candy. one can't get over a semester without eye candy. and copius amounts of chocolate.

i also need an all-expense paid trip to langkawi, booze included. or that junior suite package at hotel maya. anybody?