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.