Email To My Supervisor

To: XYZ@ maxis.com.my*
Subject: some funky shit going on yo!

MAIL:
nothing la...just wanna tell you...but cerita too panjang...and your phone gonna mampus soon...so i thought i'd mail you.

the stoly is lai dis one, got one customer hor, he go and say, these Masis ppl flom kajang, i donno lah but he say they all flom P&D Mobile Centre (i check-check oledi, real one got this MASA), they all go to his college (he never tell me lah what college he flom) and make plomotion. they telling him hor, if they all go and subsclibe to them there and then ah, they will getting RM10 rebate per month for a full year. "really one ah?", "got such thing one ah?", "got so good meh?" he asking me.

so i tell him loh, "sir, i donno leh...maybe Masis got plomo going on they never telling me...BUT...as far as i know *giggle giggle flirt flirt* don't have such thing lor"

so hor, fiza, i just want to asking you, really ah got such thing? or is it all a hoax. wah! i use the word "hoax" today! i know lah, ppl with good engrand like you think is small word but to me hor, it's very keng chau oledi. see? i working for Masis my engrand now getting more powderful. i so ploud. my mother oso vely ploud.

ok lah, i vely hunger now, that lionel oso cannot wait oledi. i mail you again some other days lah, ok?

bai bai!

ah yoke


Above is a genuine email to my supervisor requesting information verification. It's totally informal but that's how we roll. I provide her with nonsensical entertainment like this everyday so that she won't mind too much if I bug her all the time with questions. She rocks. I'm gonna miss that bitch when I shift over to KLCC. Sigh.


*Email address has been changed to protect my ass from getting fried.

Top 10 Things I Need To Get:

10. A new computer
I can't play Theif III. I WANT to play Theif III. I can't play Doom III. I WANT to play DOOM III.

9. A better job
One more person calling in to ask whether his/ her supplementary line can be under a 016 number, I'll track him/ her down and stuff dead rats in his/ her water supply tank. And this time, if I say "I know where you live"...I DO know where you live, OK?

8. More money
I'm sick of pressing my face against the glass doors at seafood restaurants with a forlorn expression in my eyes whilst happy parents and their sickening fat children tuck into butter-fried prawns and baked crab. Look, if you're fat, you should quit eating! God gave you a low metabolic rate for a reason!

7. More corporate whore outfits
My wardrobe consists of jeans, shirts, T-shirts, more T-shirts, and a whole load of T-shirts. Since I'm no longer in the "Creative Industry" so to speak, I no longer have an excuse to dress like a college punk to work. Besides, if I'm gonna be a whore anyway, I might as well look professional. Which brings me to the next one...

6. A new pair of heels
You know, to go with my corporate whore outfits.

5. More alcohol
One more person calling in to ask whether his/ her supplementary line can be under a 016 number, I'll be drinking kerosene to stay sane...AFTER I stuff dead rats in his/ her water supply tank.

4. A fridge
I want more alcohol! I need more ice cubes and cold fizzies. So there.

3. A van
It's cooler than a car and I can live in it when I can no longer afford to pay my rent.

2. A sugar daddy
With all the shit I've just listed down, I'll need a sugar daddy. And if you're one of those people who think I don't have what it takes...Let me tell you this, motherfucker...I'm planning to get a boob job.

1. Some
I believe I do not need to elucidate further.

Kisah Seorang Minah Call Centre

Apa khabar saudara-saudari sekalian? Saya berharap sekalian berada dalam keadaan sihat dan sejahtera.

Saya di sini, khabar baik. Walaupun kerja saya amat membosankan, sekurang-kurangnya, saya tidak lagi dikehendaki membuat lukisan bodoh untuk pihak PDRM, mahupun mendengar leteran Eksekutif-Eksekutif Akaun yang tiada pengetahuan pemasaran dan berotak kambing.

Kawan-kawan saya yang masih berada di industri pengiklanan menghantarkan emel kepada saya pagi tadi, mengisahkan kehidupan sengsara mereka sebagai kuli berpendapatan rendah. Sungguh kesian! Sudahlah terpaksa bertemu dengan klien kepala beruk, kena maki hamun pula oleh para majikan apabila kerja (yang telah diperburukkan oleh klien) tidak memuaskan. Ada pula yang mendapat Direktor Kreatif yang berkelakuan pondan serta boss yang suka membuat lawak jenis jenaka buku diskaun. Sesetengah pula merungut pasal klien yang suka menukar idea dan copy risalah mereka semacam pelacur Beach Club menukar kondom.

Maklumlah, inikan industri pengiklanan?

Melihatkan emel-emel mereka, tetiba pula saya berasa hidupku penuh dengan pelangi dan cahaya matahari yang terang-benderang! Terasa pula buntutku ingin mengentut kepulan rama-rama yang indah berwarna-warni. Sungguh bahagia hatiku.

*Senyum manis*

Tetapi, untuk meneruskan kisah saya...

Petang tadi semasa saya masuk kerja, boss saya telah memanggil saya untuk satu sesi temuduga di dalam pejabatnya. Ceritanya, saya telah diberi kontrak untuk berkerja dengan Maxis selama setahun sebagai seorang minah call centre. Tetapi, kali ini, saya akan ditempatkan di Menara Maxis KLCC. Pada pendapat saya, ini merupakan satu peluang yang baik untuk mendapat gaji bulanan sambil membuat kerja freelance. Justeru itu, saya telah membuat keputusan untuk menerima kontrak tersebut. Lagipun, ini bermaksud saya akan berkerja berdekatan Mel, Judee, serta saudari Minah Tetek Geram. Sebenarnya, saya tidak mengambil kisah tentang hal itu juga, yang pentingnya, alkohol jam suka-ria (happy hour booze) hanya beberapa minit dari Menara Maxis.

Baiklah, disebabkan Bahasa Melayu saya teramatlah palat, saya akan berhenti di sini supaya saudara-saudari sekalian bolehlah meneruskan kehidupan secara normal.

Sekian.

My Squeaky Blue Nike Kicks

I've a pair of blue Nike kicks. They squeak.

THE END

So, Tell Me About Your Childhood

Before there was alcohol...before there was nicotine...at an era where tripping and throwing up beer along with yesterday's dinner was unheard of...there was a time when I was innocent and entertainment had no direct relations with my (pathetic) bank account. These were the years when I thought Michael Jackson was cool and Moonwalking was the way to travel from point A to point B. These were the years where I sought amusement through imagination and madness. These were the years where...

I would take a clothes hanger, clasp it between my palms and spin it above my head;
I was a helicopter.

I would take a small ruler, shout "Thunder, thunder, thundercats", throw the little ruler away and quickly replace it with a longer ruler (which I have ready in my right hand), point it in the air and shout, "HOOOO!"
I was Lion-O, Lord Of The Thundercats.
NOTE: Nowadays, if I shout "HOOOO!", I'm probably addressing you.

I would take a blank excercise book, draw buttons and miniature screens in the pages, carry the book around in my satchel, and talk to my watch;
I was Penny, Inspector Gadget's niece and assistant.

I would crawl under my bed and hide underneath for hours, sometimes even falling asleep in there;
I was the monster who lives under the bed.

I would sit at the loft in my house, occasionally making a slow descent down the stairs to pick up my plush toys and dolls, one by one, and slowly ascend the stairs back to the loft again;
I was an alien abducting specimens from Earth.

I would tie my mum's red scarf on my back and run around the house with my arms outstretched;
I was Supergirl.

I would catch spiders and grasshoppers and keep them in jars;
They were my pets because my mum wouldn't let me have a cat.

I could be anyone and anything I wanted to be as a child.
Now, I'm just Yoke, alcohol whore and Maxis rateplans extraordinaire.

17 Songs That Play You In My Head

Pennies - The Smashing Pumpkins
Ava Adore - The Smashing Pumpkins
Perfect - The Smashing Pumpkins
Beautiful - The Smashing Pumpkins
Catherine's Wheel - Rialto
I Got A Girl - Tripping Daisy
Devil Mood - Smoke City
Underwater Love - Smoke City
In This World - Moby
Love Can Damage Your Health - Telepopmusik
Protection - Massive Attack
Glory Box - Portishead
The Female Of The Species - Space
Rhapsody In Blue - George Gershwin
Trois Gymnopedie - Erik Satie
The Girl With The Flaxen Hair - Claude Debussy
Venus - Gustav Holst

Hey Jude!

"Hey, can you get the toilet paper this time? You'll be walking by KLCC right?" she asked.

"Yeah, you want the regular ones we use right?" I asked back, trying to affirm the decision.

"Oh no no, I think it's better if we go for the one in the pink packaging. I think it's cheaper by RM2 or something like that."


Anybody would've thought that the previous conversation was of a wife talking to her husband. But no. That's the sort of everyday phone conversation I have with Judee, my flatmate. I swear as time goes by, the two of us are behaving more and more like an old couple. And by "old couple" I do not mean the aging married types, but the boyfriend-girlfriend-who-has-been-cohabiting-for way-too-long types.

Heck, sometimes she'd call me up just to ask what I was doing and if I'd be home for dinner. I know, we might as well be holding hands and kissing each other, right? But then again, old couples do not hold hands and they kiss about as often as Starscream nailing a shot on an Autobot. Speaking of Transformers, I hope they'd make a special episode where Bumblebee dies. He's annoying and he's yellow. What other reason do we need to do him in? And has anyone noticed that Starscream sounds exactly like Cobra Commander in G.I. Joe??? I know they're voiced over (hmm...is it "voiced over"? Or "voice overed"?) by the same dude but hey, he could at least TRY to do a different voice. If my dad could talk like Popeye The Sailor and fart in a hiphop beat at the same time, I'm sure he could come up with something better. Afterall, he is a professional. And I don't mean my dad.

Now why am I talking about 80s cartoons? Fuck if I know...anyways...

Like the "woman" in any old couple scenario, Jude likes to tell me things, you know, about her work and other issues. And like the typical "man", I don't fucking give a shit about her work and her issues, unless it involves:

(1) Money
(2) MY money

Below is a typical evening conversation with Jude:

Jude: Hey, you know wha...
Me: No, I don't know.
Jude: *Ignores me* Remember the guy at the office who sent me a note?
Me: I feel like having wan tan noodles for dinner, you want go to the foodcourt with me?
Jude: Well, then we sort of had an argument over the phone.
Me: Or maybe I should have duck rice instead. It has been a while since I had duck rice.
Jude: So today he sent me some roses to apologise for his rude behaviour.
Me: Then again, I feel like curry noodles with a generous dollop of kerang.
Jude: I think that's rather sweet of him.
Me: Oh fuck it, I think I'll have all three. It's not like I can't afford to take on the calories. I need more cholestrol in my system anyways.
Jude: By the way, here's my share of the rent for this month.
Me: Oh hey thanks!

God, we're so in-tune with each other it's borderline telepathic!

To top it off, Jude's a good woman. She takes care of me whenever I'm sick and feeling like shit, dishing out love and sound advice. Once I had a really bad-ass case of stomachache which had me writhing around my bed like a Pakistani whore in heat. Jude came into my room and told me, "You know, I remembered when I was still a little child, I had this really bad stomachache too...rather like what you're experiencing now...and then my father soaked some feathers in warm water and rubbed it around my tummy."

Immediately after saying that, she turned her pretty little head around and went back to her room. That Judee, she's always full of helpful hints like that.

*Smiles appreciatively whilst nodding head repeatedly with eyes closed*

Needless to say, life is a lot of joy with Jude around. Through her, I've learnt the fine art of endurance (she makes me watch Taiwanese drama serials with her), while she has acquired the exquisite taste of alcohol consumption. During the early moments of our cohabitation, I'd try to coax her to go out with me on Saturday nights and she'd always decline, giving some shitty excuse like "I'm tired." Seriously now, who the hell feels tired at the thought of passing out at some random bar in town after 6 jugs of free beer? Right? Right? I mean, I'm talking about FREE BEER here, like, HELLO?

Thankfully, she still agrees to have the occasional drink with me at home. She even came up with her own concoction of Pepsi, Slurpee, and Mr. Daniel's Special Blend, which had me singing Whitney Houston after I downed two large helpings of it, because she poured too much alcohol in her drink and then made me finish everything up. Ok, she didn't really make me but what the hell.

However, I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that my unholy alliance with Dionysus has properly rubbed off on Jude when I found her inspecting the sacrilegious bottles of fermented nectar (proudly displayed in our living room) with the intensity of an actuary calculating the annuity premiums of an insurance agency. Puzzled, I asked her what she was doing. To which she replied, "Oh nothing, just doing a stock check".

"Oh nothing, just doing a stock check". She said it so naturally one would've assumed that she practices The Dance Of The Drunken Monk on a regular basis.

"You know, we're running low on supplies", she simply uttered.

"We"? Since when did it become "we"?

"So when is Oz Tim* coming back?" she questioned nonchalantly.


Yeah, that's my girl!


*Oz Tim is my ex-boyfriend who showers me with duty-free vices from the airport whenever he makes a trip to KL. French Tim is my current boyfriend. Yes, despite my wretched appearance, I'm still considered attractive in some parts of the world. Yes, I've dated two dudes called "Tim" consecutively. Yes, That's why I've to differentiate them from their country of origin. Yes, while it's true that I've not been around Europe, Europe has certainly been around me. Yes, maybe I DO have a thing for men who go by the name of "Tim". And yes, if your name is Tim, you may give me a call. Not if it's short for Timbaktoo, you won't qualify that way.

Eros' Error

You touched the most secret of her flesh and sensing her pleasure, you asked while smiling coyly, "You're very aroused."

"How can I not be when I'm faced with Desire incarnate?" she whispered between sighs of passion, pressing herself against your dancing fingers.

Throughout the night, the both of you connected and disconnected, professing Love over and over until the call of God to his followers for their daily praise to Him.


Sitting amongst the clouds in Mount Olympia, Eros heaved a heavy sigh. "It was not supposed to be like this. They should not be together...it is...improper."

Upon hearing her son's lament, Aphrodite put her arms around him and said, "Perhaps so...but still, I have sanctified them with love so pure and true, it will undo whatever wrong you have commited. Perhaps, just pehaps, they weren't meant to be...but at the very least, what they share is perfect and untouchable."


You looked into her eyes and brushed her hair to the side of her face, securing the loose strands behind her ears. She smiled lovingly at you, leaning forward to place her lips on yours. Once more, the music played and the eternal waltz began, immortalizing the error of Eros through the touch of Aphrodite.