What It Should've Been...

In my last post I said something to the effect that Tay-Tarik was probably on a tennis court somewhere getting his arse severely whipped by his girlfriend.

What I actually meant to say was that he was "probably dropping a coupla sets here and there to a very good friend. But by and large he'd be giving a good account of himself. How's that for courtsmanship eh?"

So ladies please, continue to harbour your secret hopes of winning his attentions much in the same way that you hope to marry Jay Chou someday. And please, whatever you do, don't stop reading...we'll be back reeeeally soon. Now abit shack la. *buka the big smile all*

Timeout

It's gonna be a quiet few days folks.

All the High Levels are off somewhere in their neutral corners either shitting out term papers or pretending to be flustered about not understanding Game Theory. I for one am only 4 pages into this 15 page rubbish I'm spouting that's due on Monday. And this is on top of the Deviance paper I have due on said Monday as well. Anyway I figure that even if I miss the deadline on that one, at least the social audience i.e. the good Dr. G*na will appreciate the deviance of such an act without engaging in acts of otherization using ethnicity as a master indicator.

Anyway here's an update of what everyone else is up to...

Tay-Tarik:
He's either in the canteen working on his paper or on the tennis court getting his ass severely kicked by his girlfriend....how's that for courtship eh? In anycase fans, he assures me that he has a big post planned in the next week.

tRYATHLETE:
Probably sleeping after punishing the Game Theory test...

The HEAT:
Probably ironing his socks for the big Cleo pageant...woat for him here!

Techno Telugu
Definitely sleeping...Dei thanx for lending me the book dei. You're in my acknowledgements at the back of the essay...right after Chomsky for actually writing the book.

Tek-Sappot:
No idea sial...probably attending to missed calls. (Private joke...don't worry about it)

Right then, we'll see yall in a few days. Until then, remember to share the darjeeling.

Ba Dum Channgg!!!

The place: Mama stall at coffee shop along Mohd. Sultan
The Time: About 4am

Mama stall Man: Hallo what you want to eat?

Mama Fella: Uncle how about some satay?

MSM: How many stick you want?

MF: Ummm...lets say 15 chicken, 15 mutton?

MSM: Ok..anything else?

MF: Ahh no laa...I think enough.

MSM: Ok

MF (as MSM is walking away): Uncle! Kao-kao ah!!

20 Minutes later...the satay arrives.

MF #2: Dei...this doesn't look like chicken dei.

MF: Sial ah...I think you're right dei. Uncle! This is not chicken. This is beef!!

MSM: Ya...you said cow wat!!!

Apologia

Dear Readers,

You might have noticed that the NUS Smoking Dragnet post that used to inhabit this space has been removed. We at the High Level Project would like to assure the conspiracy-theorists amongst you that it has not been removed as a direct result of the authorities 'getting' to us. Rather, we have done so because the standard of writing on that one was shoddy to say the least. It was, as some of us might put it, minging.

What seemed hilarious at 5 in the morning proved to be considerably less so after some very much needed sleep. I feel, rather belatedly, that anyone who needs to make up fictitious characters called Sgt. Shaun or rely on nameplay like Gaylord Focker in order to draw a laugh (or heaven forbid, two) ought to be volunteered for suicide bomb detail.

In any case, we just want to assure our readership that your support is very much appreciated and we will endeavour not publish such rubbish ever again.

Thank you for your continuing support.



It should be noted in passing, that the article in question was written by me.

Why Can't We All Just Get Along.....Without Onions?

The thing I don't get is what purpose does onion serve in cooking? It's not a vegetable (in my strict purist sense), it's not a meat, its not a condiment, what the hell does it do? And yet every Indian house you go to, there it is!! Indians buy onions the way terrorists but ammonium nitrate - by the truckloads. Now I'm sure tomorrow that if the Occident invaded India, we'd find a way to make bombs of onions.

Indian dishes are usually like this: Onion curry with a bit of chicken, onion sambal with some prawns, onion rice with a dash of the briyani. That sorta thing. The best part is everybody automatically assumes you want onion. Typical ordering at the mama shop for me goes something like this,

Me: 'bang, mutton steak goreng satu?Bawang kasi cancel (no onion indicator)

Others: 'bang, blah blah blah satu, blah blah blah blah blah dua....

Me: boss no onions ah please? (no onion indicator #2)

Indian Waiter: ok no prablem...drinks?

Everybody: blah blah bloody blah...

Indian Waiter: ok tenggiu...

Me: (one last time as he's leaving) anney, vengayam vaenda? (no onion indicator #3)

Fast-forward to 15 minutes later....food arrives.

Friend: Eh dei, they jacking you dei...check out the size of those onions!

For Those of You Who Thought I Was Kidding...

You might want to attenuate the loudness a tad before you click here.
It's rather embarassing.

And for those of you who can't tell your Hindi from your Hainanese, it's apparently in Romanian although I'm not quite sure that's so much of a language as it is a nationality.

In any case, I told you so!!

A Nod of Disapproval

O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei is the most rubbish song I' ve ever heard. Rubbiiissshhh! It's so bad it's perversely funny. It was bad enough that I was subjected to it everytime I got into Vick's car, now it's on Anu's radioblog as well. So much so that everytime I go to read, I cannot resist but play it so that I can break out (or up?) into a convoluted bout of laughter when the singer goes "Salut" ahahahahahahahahahaha!!! ahahahahaha!!!

Sorry. Please, you need to hear it to know what I mean.