If only they were Banksy’s

If only they were Banksy’s

Evolution vs Blackberry

If Darwin was right with his Theory of Evolution, then there is nothing to fear towards global warming. 

The world was a very cold place where birds could have had a bigger brain than humans. I don’t know. I’m just saying maybe. Probably some after effects of the Big Bang, there was this thing called the ‘evolution’. No no. not them Japanese cars. 

My question is this: Why the fear of global warming while we have the ability to evolve?

We, Range Rover owners are penalised for a crime known as global warming not committed by us. The Range Rover is the pinnacle of pure British Engineering in the off-road department. While we roister around town in our manly V8’s, burning precious hydrocarbon to the beat of U2, Mozart & Ministry of Sound via our Harman Kardon’s speakers, some farmers in some jungle clearing (keyword: jungle clearing) who doesn’t know the difference between a water bottle and a mobile phone, contributes by far the largest percentage of Green House gasses. And those pets of theirs don’t even consume hydrocarbons. Wonder what happens if they do. 

Mulling over Darwin’s theory, maybe Darwin was right. Humans  do evolve. It is the only explanation why some people are numbnuts, mingers, tree huggers and people ogling at Korean made cars. And yes, we have people who uses a fruit; blackberry, as a mobile devise.

The great Ali G once asked, "Do you think we might become giraffe?"


Go ahead. Have a laugh.

At last, a hot Spiderman’s girl. Thumbs up for Emma Stone. I likey.

What... I beg a pardon....    

Who would have though that someone would get into trouble with the word banana. Joshua did. It happened during our schooling days. Our teacher was a c**t by the way. 

Bananas win tournaments. Watch Wimbledon on the telly and you’ll see them players eating half a banana during intervals and going on to win matches.

Mention the word bananas and all express and implied meaning comes to mind including ribaldry ones. Ahhhh...... 

'Let Your Memory Be Your Travel Bag' Alexander Solzhenitsyn

The weighing machine at home is sometimes cherished and frowned at. I like it at times and despise it on some occasion. It is able to present itself as the devil and angel too.

Last night, I would have severed its head off, if it had one, after standing on it while having the readings taken by me wife. 12 pounds in 8 months!!!! Damn........ 

This undertaking of ‘blow to one’s pride’, accepting the reality of increased blubber level is down right depression. But no, I will not take this as a bitter pill. It will be an excuse for more field activities. 

The BIG number 12 is good enough to kick me out of bed for a morning stroll along Telok Chempedak. The fresh air, morning sun and melodic rhythm of South China Sea’s wave lapped against the shores of Telok Chempedak  brought back memories of my diving days in Pulau Perhentian and our recent break in Pulau Redang. The immensity of its beauty at both of these islands are little testimony of God’s existence.  

The Art of Water

The Art of Water
 

Overheard at a restaurant: Are you MADdddddd????? 50 sen for a glass of plain water. This ain't a glass of water. It is day light robbery in liquid form. 

After some thoughts about price vs value, I conclude that history has failed the human race when it comes to appreciating the meaning of value.

How do we justify these:

1) £20.5 - 30.6 Billion for England to maintain freedom of Britian during 
    World War 2

2) 151 million USD for No.5, 1948 by Jackson Pollock. 

3) Stanley Ho paid £165,000 for a piece of fungus dug up by some pig.

Now then, "are you f**king MADdddddd?????" 

Yes, a glass of plain water is now 50 sen. Can't afford it. Hard luck mate. 

If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water.

LORAN EISELY, The Immense Journey, 1957

When the well is dry, we know the worth of water.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, (1706-1790), Poor Richard's Almanac, 1746

Between earth and earth's atmosphere, the amount of water remains constant; there is never a drop more, never a drop less. This is a story of circular infinity, of a planet birthing itself.

LINDA HOGAN, Northern Lights, Autumn 1990

Water is the best of all things.

PINDAR (C. 522-C. 438 B.C.), Olympian Odes

All good things can be said of water but making filthy water into drinkable water is an art. Hence the price of 50 sen for a glass of plain water. 

This brings another thought to mind. How do we value the once vibrant and dynamic mining town of Sungai Lembing, Malaysia that has been brought down cringed to its knees. Where do we go from here?

Wisdom From A Spliff.

Be honest. Have you heard of this dish called 'Malaysian Curry'?

Effect of 1 too many spliff 

I'm not sure about you but yes I've heard of it although I haven't had the chance to taste it. Apparently this 'Malaysia Curry' exist. Ask Gordon Ramsay. I would love to try if I come across one but I do not think I will. Ever.

I came to know the existence of this dish from one of Gordon's tv show. He was going through some students survival kit called 'The Fridge'. Finding nothing but rubbish in it (Rubbish to you, Gordon but manna to us, students), he continues to teach them the very simple dish known as the 'Malaysian Curry', ranting to them students about eating real proper food as he puts the dish together. What Gordon fails to understand is this science called: 'Prudence Spending'

photo: http://jollypeople.com

Why do we have a piggy bank labelled 'Beer Money' in large capital letters, Gordon? The reason is very simply. About 40% of our pocket money goes to 'Super Skunk', 'Jack Herer', 'White Widow' and 'Super Lemon Haze', another 10% for some colourful bong bought at Camden Market, 20% for late night kebabs, parmo, chinese takeaway and glorious food from the chippy, of course. Now that leaves us with about one third of our monkeys that has to be thriftily spent on proper nonsense as described by Gordon. In pure simply English, we are skint. 

Be honest again. Can you ever win an argument with Gordon Ramsay? Yes I can but with the sort of temper of his, I rather not win it because it might be a short lived one. I wouldn't be surprise to get a royal wanton lashing complete with a barrage of Spitfire's Browning machine gun, Hispano cannon and both its 250 pound bombs out of his mouth. Lock, stock and barrel.

This now brings me to my  thoughts of the numerous amount of food connoisseur here at home. With the power of the internet and cheap digital photography, a numbnut can now be called a food critic and food connoisseur. They travel, spend some money on food and then put up on their blog commenting about the ambience, the quality of food, memories that it evokes, how much money the owner makes, how dirty the toilet is, how many cockroaches they find under some framed picture and everything under the sun. 

What tickles me about these self proclaimed connoisseur  is the amount of misinformation and what my mother would say, 'act smart' coming from them. It looks as if, there is so much of it, it doesn't just ooze out but in an uncontrolled manner like the Niagara Falls. One bloke wrote about being in a kopitiam and how it reminds him of his lad days where his father would bring him to sip coffee while seeing the glory of day passes by. Oooo…. very nostalgic but coming from a family where kopitiam runs in our blood, I can't remember any kopitiam in the days when we were lads were so well decorated in such style that we see how a kopitiam is today. There might be some in Jonker Street but that too I'm so sceptical where I can confidently call him a blatant liar.

There was another 'connoisseur' who commented on some cakes that we sold in one of me mates shop. According to her, it tasted so much better that cake from Secret Recipe; since it was home-made. When I read that, I was in stitches. After exhausting myself from laughing, I grinned like a Cheshire Cat and later gave my self a Chelsea Smile after I got sick from ginning. I know for a fact that them cakes were bought from Giant. Enough said.

I could go on till kingdom comes vociferating about these write ups on food and places to eat by my fellow bloggers but I will not. I'm here to make friends not enemies. I learnt a very good lesson from my campus guard. It happened when we were enjoying our spliffs  in some geezers room. We thought we were in for it when he opened the room door to find everyone of us with a nice and fat rolled up spliff containing top quality Moroccan hashish only to say, "Hehheyyy…… make love not war." A very wise oldman. I like.