Friday, January 4, 2013

Hope everlasting



I believe there are mainly 3 types of Jakartans.

The 1st are the ones that rush into a packed transjkt bus, although they can see that several other buses are coming in less than a minute away, with a chance of having more space (to pack into).

The 2nd, those who will squint their eyes trying to achieve superhuman sight to scrutinize and x-ray the incoming transjkt buses, so that they can determine which bus is the ideal one (to pack into).

The 3rd are those who don't bother with transjkt and swear by other means of transportation altogether.

Me? I'm the 2nd type.

I'll be the guy who will try my best to select the least packed bus, in that eternal hope to find an empty seat.

For the sake of an empty seat, I'll go as far as to sacrifice the chance to share the same bus with very attractive persons of the opposite sex.

I'll even switch buses in the next shelter, if I'm certain that the bus behind mine offers better chance of an empty seat.

I'm just wired that way, with a glass half full circuitry, so to speak.

Still, for all my hunting of bus seats, I'll gladly surrender mine to those in need. Like the elderly, those who are pregnant, and those with tykes. Other than those 3 categories, you're most probably won't be getting my seat, even if you're a highly attractive female.

Simply because I'm an equal opportunity kinda guy.

And besides, my lap is -- perfectly empty.

See, ladies?

Monday, November 19, 2012

On Movember


My 20-day-old moustache is starting to itch lately.

And lots of people have already advised me to shave it off.

Which I will do soon anyways, in just 10 days more.

So, this year marks the third year I participate in Movember. At the end of which, I always ended up looking like a guy who tried to grow his moustache somewhat halfheartedly. Although it's actually closer to unsuccessfully.

'Coz I always do it wholeheartedly, darn it.

I resist 20 days of itchiness, of the urges to get clean-shaven and be better looking. Sorta.

I steel myself against constructive criticism of my moustache, and put on a deaf ear.

I swallow the fact that my girls run away from my itchy kisses.

All to show support for my fellow brethren.

Still, for all of my good intentions, my moustache usually does its own thing, just to prove a point and stick its autonomous independence on me.

Its M.O. is usually a rapid growth spurt for the first week. Followed by a 3 weeks break in which it seems to hibernate and stop any growth efforts whatsoever, creating its signature lazy-ass moustache look. And then closed off with 2 days of cram-growth session, finishing in a Tom Selleck reject style. Or perhaps Burt Reynolds reject. I always have a hard time differentiating the 2.

Although some kind souls have said that by the end of November, I sorta look like a bashed-up version of Fachry Albar. When viewed through a squint. With dim lighting. Aided by alcohol.

Still, you don't see Hitler complaining to his moustache, so I guess I shouldn't either. In fact, I shall wear it with pride.

And to those of you who invite me to events this November, brace yourselves. My stache is coming.


PS -  To those of you unfamiliar with Movember, here's a wiki link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Movember

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Moving on



A popular topic, this.

And way easier said than done. One of those things where it looks straightforward in theory, but sorta unexpectedly complicated when one attempts to put it into practice.

Because favorite mistakes tend to get very addictive, even if you fully and consciously realized what you're doing is a mistake.

Take a friend of mine, for example.

He and his girl broke up, then they sorta entered a no status relationship, then the girl sorta got another boyfriend, and yet she refused to let him or the new boyfriend go, and things become downright pain-in-the-ass complicated from then on.

All because she can't make up her mind.

Or won't. Since we all know, the temptation is strong to be able to keep your cake and eat it too... But then again, greed is listed as 1 of the 7 deadly sins not for nothing, so perhaps it's best to consider that also when facing this sorta temptations  :p

Anyway, the reason she can't choose is supposedly because one party will end up getting hurt if she made her choice, and she doesn't want that to happen because she doesn't want to hurt anybody. Which we all know, is pretty much a crappy reason with a shitty logic. Why? Because she's already hurting my friend anyway by insisting to hang him out to dry within the uncertain-zone in the first place. And she's also hurting her new boyfriend by going behind his back to still hook up with my friend. The fact that the new boyfriend had chosen to keep swallowing lies after lies from her to calm his own growing suspicions was just...sad. Yet, I do understand that he did all those in an attempt to avoid getting hurt.

I think we all agree unanimously that hurting is no fun. Unless you're the masochistic type.

But really, that poor sod should've listened to his gut. 'Coz in the end, the girl went back to my friend, leaving the new guy high and dry in less than a month. Or maybe two, I wasn't really keeping count. So much for avoiding from getting hurt...

You all should've seen his twitter timeline.

Back to the story, her attempt at moving on, applaudable as it may, fell short and end up causing collateral damages.

Needless to say, it is established that my friend kinda sucked too at moving on.

Because moving on is never that easy if you have really fallen for the other person in that relationship. Be that in love or in lust.

Still, given enough time, things won't stay the same, people change, lights get turned off, and life goes on.

Regardless of how many heart shrapnel you left behind.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Life lessons, part 5



There are 2 kinds of surprises: the good kind, and the bad kind. And remember kids, there's no such thing as a neutral surprise; because if it's neutral, then it definitely ain't surprising.

Now, a decent example of a good surprise would be getting sex when you least expected it.

An example of a bad surprise would be getting sex when you least expected it, in prison.

See how thin the lines separating them can be?

So here's a reminder not to use the term "surprise me" lightly, 'coz you may not like what you're gonna end up with.

Like when I was asked what do I want for my anniversary present, since I was kinda caught off-guard, I said to wifey, "Surprise me."

And boy, a lot can sure happen in a period of one week, 'coz suddenly the budget that had been set aside to buy my present got downsized considerably in a family emergency.

Surprise!

So technically, I got what I asked for, even though it's not quite the way how I picture it is gonna be...

But as a consolation prize, I'm getting a water heater with what's left of the budget. Although now I'm not really sure if it's actually a present for me, or for her, so that she doesn't have to boil hot water for my bath every morning anymore.  :p

Well, whatever it is, at least it's something that's gonna get our bodies warm.

And wet.  ;)

Friday, September 28, 2012

Fresh from the oven! Or burner.



So there we were, taking a quick cigarette break on the outside fire escape stairs, and one of the guys ran out of smokes.

I offered him mine, saying that that particular pack had been taking forever to finish anyway, on its way to survive 2 weeks, so might as well he helps finish it.

The bugger then promptly turned my offer down, and took a cigarette from another guy.

So, politely, I asked him why did he pick the other guy's cigarette instead.

His reply was sorta scientific, stating that an open cigarette pack can only retain its contents' freshness for 5 days up to a week, due to direct exposure to air, humidity and whatnots. So he concluded that a pack that's been opened for over a week is definitely not fresh.

My reply was "..."

Quickly followed by a raised right eyebrow.

Dude, if you want freshness, the eff were you doing smoking?

The hell is fresh about breathing smoke derived from burning tobacco anyways? The tar content is definitely not. Neither is the 43 known carcinogens you are inhaling. Nor the 400 or so toxic chemicals it contained.

If you've chosen to smoke despite all the health warnings and the tears you shed as the smoke gets in your eyes, please don't ridicule yourself by demanding freshness.

Natural morning air, free of smoke.

Now that's fresh.

Monday, September 3, 2012

Bridge-building 101




Bridges.

Some people put so much effort into building them, only to watch it burn and crumble in the end.

Which would be such a waste, no?

I mean, when you had bothered to put in so much of everything including blood and tears into building 1, then why let it be destroyed at all? Why not built it with something that would withstand the tests of time?

Why built it in the first place?

Which is why when I built my bridges, I make sure the materials are fireproof, and the result rigid enough to have the strength in supporting a whole lotta weights, and yet flexible enough to avoid shattering.

Mine are kick ass adamantium bridges for sure.

Still, even when the bridges are indestructible, the fact remains that people at both ends may still choose not to cross it and take other ways instead.

But again, that's a different story then.

Friday, August 3, 2012

Of ass and men...



It is often said that one of the first thing that draw a man's eyesight on a woman is her boobs. And however hard we try to resist and be civilized, it is unavoidable that we will look, or at the very least steal a glance, even if the face above them is below the universal average. Seriously, we just can't help it.

On the other side of the equation, woman's eyes are said to be drawn first towards a man's rear end. Perhaps because checking the package in front is a bit too rude, or just plain harder to do without getting caught at it.

But of course, to every norms, there are exceptions.

There are lots of asscentric guys out there, and Sir Mix-a-lot's Baby Got Back sort of made that official. After all, lyrics like: "I like big butt and I can not lie" are pretty darn straightforward, don't you think?

As for myself, I appreciate a curvy female ass as well as any guys out there, but deep down, I'm more of a leg man. To catch my attention, firm shapely legs that go up and up is the surefire hook. A complete package on the upper torso would be the line. And the sinker? Well, as cliché as it may sound, it will be personality.

And although I'll put my money on the majority of us eagerly agreeing about the merits of getting physical and it's positive impact in a relationship, I do believe that in the end, it's the connectedness that makes us stay.

While it's true that we're only humans after all, I'd like to think that in general, we're not that shallow.

Or are we..?

Still, as long as there remain those of us who put importance in pillow talks and cuddles, all hope is not lost...