Tuesday, July 31, 2007

I Love My Name

Tan Wan Yean. Literal translation, Tan Thousand Dollars, or something close to that. And no, it ain't the coolest name you've ever heard. In fact, it's such a common name that people tend to disregard it.

I've met a lotta bunch of people with cool names, and well, mine sounds plain when I introduce myself.

Sound man: Hi, I'm Dusty.
Me: Hey, I'm Wan Yean. Hmm... Dusty. DJ Dusty. Sounds like a cool stage gimmick.
Sound man: No bro, that's my real name.
Me: Whoa, you for real?
Sound man: Yeah. And what's your name again?
Me: You hurt my feelings.

And this happened during a blogger's meet;

Me: Hi! Nice meeting you. You are?
Girl: Hi! I'm Erlynda.
Me: Oh c'mon, I mean, what's your real name, not like those self given names you know?
Girl: My name IS Erlynda!
Me: Yeah, and I'm Michaelangelo.
Girl: You don't believe me, don't you? (Takes out I/C) Here, take a good look.
Me: Oh, urm hi Erlynda. MY GOD HOW DID YOUR PARENTS COME UP WITH SUCH A NAME?

You can check out her blog here.

Well, it's not that I ain't proud of my name, it's just that it's too plain. Nobody remembers my name. It's just so sad! Hence one fine day I decided to make up an English name for myself. Well, for the sake of just meeting hi-bye people, so that it's easier for them to remember besides the good looks and charming personality and charisma and.. (I better stop).

So after giving it much thought, I decided to settle for Wayne. Yeah. "Wayne" has got all the alphabets that spells "Wan Yean", and it starts with a "W" too. Heck it's a cool name, ain't it? But I sort of blew it on my first try;

Girl, stranger: Hi, nice to meet you!
Me: Oh hi, nice to meet you too. I'm Wayne (said while raising one of my eyebrows)
Girl, stranger: Wait a minute, aren't you Wan Yean, from PFS?
Me: Errr...
Girl, stranger: Do you remember me? I participated in CTC and I was in your patrol.
Me: I think... you got the wrong person. Bye!

Heck, it was silly. What was I thinking? Having another name other than my own just don't feel right. I feel fake and deprived of an identity. I AM Wan Yean. Not Wayne, not Michaelangelo or Raphael.

And well Wan Yean sounds decent, at least it aint' like Ah Kau, Ah Tu, Ah Beng or Lan Chiaw. I should be proud of my name, though it may sound girlish or funny to you.

And boy, I am freaking proud of it now more than ever.

I met this Korean chick in Singapore the other day, and well, my name's just cool.

Girl: Hi, I'm Dana. What's your name?
Me: I'm Wan Yean.. Well you can call me Wan if you wanna.
Girl: Oh, okay. What's your surname?
Me: Erm, it's Tan.
Girl: Hey, that's what my friends call me! It's like my nick name, you know, a short for Dana in Korean.
Me: Oh, so we're sharing a same name now huh.
Girl: Yeah, that's cool. I like your name.

I'm all smiles even as I'm writing this down. Ashamed of my name? HELL NO. I freakin' love my name now. Chicks dig my name. Especially, Korean chicks. Born as TAN WAN YEAN, and will die as one. Need no English name garnishing.

Are you proud of your name?

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Singapore Ministers

Singapore government have a lot in common with our local government. For starters, from what I heard most of the ministers were Malaysians. Singapore ministers are getting fat pay cheques and well, our ministers sure know how to hustle for their share of luxury too.

But there's one particular ministry that our country does not possess. And for that I'm paying them a visit tomorrow.

The Ministry Of Sound.

Minister on duty: Damian Saint, UK.

Oh yeah.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Facts And Figures of UTM

687
Kilometers away from home, away from my comfy bed, char koay teow, sup Hameed, RM4 DVDs, sexy dance competition, table top dance competition, RM40 per bucket beers, Botanical Garden jogging trail and my life.

44
Ridiculous college rules that governs my life, which I'd break at least 3 every single day.

35
Km/h is the speed limit on all roads in UTM. Yes, they apply both to bicycles and motor vehicles. Gear 2 screams for mercy.

12
Number of speed bumps from my hostel to my faculty's car park. Cars with skirting and lowered suspensions goes thru hell every single day.

1.9
Is the distance in kilometers from my hostel to the faculty. Yes, they squeezed in all them 12 speed bumps. Seems like they are trying their very best to make us follow the speed limit.

3

English speaking friends, in which 2 of them are staying outside while the other 1 is a hi/bye friend. Well, at least I have Roboto to talk to, right matey?

Roboto, my chat buddy.

Approximately
100~200
Different girls seen in UTM so far, and;

Approximately
80%

Are lala/kampung/airhead/fat/downright hopeless.

Approximately
5%
Speaks English.

Definitely
0

Turns me on.

1
Prayer that I say daily;

Dear God, send me an angel*. Pretty face, hot, C (I wouldn't mind a D too, if that's what You have in mind for me), daring and outgoing. And English speaking, fo' sho. That's all, God. That's all. Is that too much of a favor?

I'm counting on Ya, Big Guy. Cuz I really wouldn't want to end up blogging like this blog gone bad one day. Straight is good, fo' shizzle.

*God, you may select any of these chicks for me. I wouldn't mind look a-likes too. Hey, You want only the best for Your child, right? Amen.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

How Does It Feel Like To Have Boobs?

That ain't exactly a question, but I would appreciate answers from the YY species.

I've never actually given it much of a thought until watching this movie, It's A Boy Girl Thing. I know there's a whole lot of boy wakes up in girl's body shows out there, but somehow this movie in particular got me thinking about how does it feel to actually own a set of rack.


The two different movie posters. For you to play spot the difference.


If ever, I'm to wake up in a girl's body, hell what would be the first thing I'd do? What else, but to strip naked, run in front of a mirror and just, adore.

And then, the fun begins.

Exploring would be a nice thing to do. I'll hunt down all the treasures of a woman's body; the G-spot, U-spot, S-spot, blogspot, and whatever spots there are. Heck I'd like to experience a female orgasm. back to back. Rarrr. Purrrr.

And after all that, maybe I'll start worrying about switching back.

So the idea came to me, would I love to actually have tits when I'm in a girl's body?


It's not when you already have testicles, silly.

To have additional fatty tissues bulging out from my anterior, to have a part of me that can draw necessary AND unnecessary attention, that has gotta be cool.

Or, troublesome?

It will certainly weigh me down, making it harder to get up after bending over, plus additional care and support needed to resist gravity's pull.

Nature is unforgiving, even to Drew Barrymore.

Damn I certainly can't lie down comfortably on the bed when I've got two round balloons in my way. And what happens when I go for a jog? I know bouncing tits are real kinky, but hey I don't think I'd appreciate a part of my body to be ricochetting up and down for the whole 30 minutes of a run. Remember Click?

Proceed to 2:04. Boing boing boing.

So I think I won't fancy owning a set of C bombs after all, heck I will despise having them. Don't get me wrong, I freakin' love 'em succulent roundies; hell I'm a male. Thank God I'm a male.

So look good honeys, I'll help with the feel good part.

By the way, errr, do all them boobies sag like Drew Barrymore's when chicks/aunts hit late 30s? Damn that's scary... And yes this is a question.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Of Lands And Maidens

They're all like girls.

Penang is like my long term girlfriend whom I've grown up with, and grown to love. I know (almost) every detail of her body, every measurements and every skin tone of hers. I'm comfortable around her, and I'm proud to announce that I belong to her.

Johor is like a bitch who is just jealous of my commitment and love towards Penang, and she tried her very best to tear us apart. And she did, by offering me security and stability in life.

She made a deal with me when I was drunk, and made me inked down a 4 year attachment contract with her. I was forced to try her out, but I realized that she's plain boring. There is no excitement as promised, and heck she's so huge in size that I can't finish exploring her even if I took 20 years.

Johor has failed thus far to remove Penang from me. I crave for her. So much so that during the contract period I cheated on Johor with Penang. I enjoy roaming all over her, all over again. Distance certainly can't tear us apart, and definitely can't subdue our lust for each other.

Then I found Singapore.

She's hot, she's sexy, attractive, fun loving and secure at the same time. She's a rare gem; and you know what they say about rare gems; it's hard to dig 'em out.

She is challenging, but at the same time teasing. She'd let me explore her but she would not let me unfold her totally. She is, mysterious. And I find myself drawn to her obscure enticement.

Singapore is supposed to be only my fling throughout the 4 years contract before I can go back to my Penang, but she proved herself to be more than just another girl; she's got potential. And I found myself stucked in the middle.

My contract will come to an end in another 2 years time. I have to decide by then who would I wanna start a new exciting journey of life with, and who would I wanna wake up with every single morning.

A hot new sexy chick or the oh-so-familiar childhood lover? Tough choice. Oh, the bitch ain't even in my slightest consideration.

On the same note, I'm returning to the bitch tomorrow morning after spending a wonderful 2 months with my long term girlfriend. Sorrow will be my companion, pain will be my friend. Need to sneak out more often to meet miss promiscuous.

Oh, did I mention that UTM is located right in between the two pieces of thick fugly arse of the bitch? The shithole, that is.

Monday, July 02, 2007

All Ye Whining Bitches

Admit it, all of us bloggers are bitches. We like to bitch about anything and everything; from our 'transparent' government to the other 'prettier but distasteful' blogger that gets in your nerves or even the fantastic nasi lemak that you had for breakfast.

You wanna to prove me wrong? Try visiting any blog at all, ANY at random. All that you can find is summarized as below:
  • Tech blog: they bitch about slow processing speed, low RAM, clock speed, Bill Gates knows what else.
  • Sex blog: they whine about bad sex, and good sex too, anything that can get the readers horny.
  • Food blog: they bitch about 70 cents roti canai.
  • Lifestyle blog: it's all over it.
  • Audio/video blog: you literally hear them/see them bitch it out.

Yes, we like to bitch and whine, and be heard; and that explains the existence of our kind. And even better; people like to read our whimpers. So much so that we bitches bloggers can make money out of it, and even be a celebrity. Amazing, huh?

I have to admit, I'm a loud whining bitch too. Things that I can't yell out loud, I'll type it all here with CAPITAL LETTERS. People that I can't blast off with my arsenal of verbal abuse right in their face, I'll type it out, right in the face of my laptop screen, here.

I know, that's really a macho thing to do.

But today onwards, I'm breaking free from this whole bitching business. Yes, because THE blog is not like any other blogs at all; it's T-H-E blog. And being one among the crowd sucks.

So ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, my first bitch-free post, in point form.
  • Work sucks. (Damn, that's whining already)

  • I was too busy working recently.
  • My boss is an idiot who thinks that I'm an invoice printing machine. (Can't write that)

  • I issue invoices.
  • I couldn't update my blog.
  • My boss wants me to be a social outcast just like her. (Yea, yea I know I know)
  • Work limits my own personal free time.
  • Working makes me fat. (This considered whining?)
  • Working limits my mobility.

  • I laughed loud and hard on my boss's face, and told her "Enjoy your mental imprisonment, old hag." (That's nasty, definite no-no)

  • But after a month of work, my working stint finally came to an end.
  • Back to enjoying life.

  • Arrgh, I'm harvesting my love handle! (Whining not allowed)
  • I just came home from having a pint.
Urgh, screw it, bitching is fun!