Dogs don’t speak.

It was 7.20 when I signed in for work this morning, inhaling soap and foundation powder while queuing-up to leave my signature at the office counter. The long-dormant espresso machine is up and running again at home, explaining my overworking sensory acuteness. I can smell the car air-freshener residue on the GPK’s tudung from 10 feet away. Jesus.

No formal assembly today since most classes are having exams. My first class was at 8.20 with 1 AF. Not Akademi Fantasia but Al-farabi the towelhead scientist. It was an arts class so i chucked Wallace and Gromit: the Curse of the Were Rabbit into the DVD player in the library’s audio-video room and asked them to draw a character of their choice. No surprises when all but two drew Gromit the silent dog.

The school’s internet connection is down again. It took three different agencies at least to get it up and running so probably the administration is yet to decide who to call to come and tinker with the server so that it will stop running again later. So I’m on M*xis Broadband. Slow as shit because you’d struggle to even have clear reception on your cellphone in these neck of the woods. Well at least I’m online.

Had a hell of a weekend that officially started with the dusting and assembly of my espresso machine (last cup made approximately 2 years ago in the Jalan Teluk Sisek floodbait of a house). Got the coffee and milk while shoe-hunting with A and S and made the first batch for me, A and Kom who’s recovering from a bad break-up. I’m sure he felt better after that cup of mean excelsior I made. Coffee is way better than a bad VJ with bad hair anyday. Inside joke there. Haha.

Then off to a session with Ralat. At the studio in Terminal Makmur. Great name for a dumpsite huh? It’s supposed to be some sort of shopping arcade but the only floor (out of 3) occupied is the ground floor. Five or six ‘internet cafes’ and the studio amidst cigarette butts, rubbish and the stench of urine. The studio was ok I guess for twenty-five bucks an hour. We’d rehearsed there before but it was a shitty session last Saturday because the PA kept bonking out mid-song. Ledge’s vocals were blips and pieces that sounded like bad avant-garde noise-rock. It transpired to me that the electrical circuits in that god-forsaken piece of real estate is overloaded since all the power is sucked up by all the mysp*ce pages viewed in the internet cafes. So Abang Misai 78 and Gingercat were smiling in their profile mugs while we were playing fucking instrumentals.

Slept the whole day Sunday. Woke up at seven in the evening, went to Heritage with A, Ya, Chala, Kom and S for an impromptu mother’s day dinner. Had a chicken ala king with three mugs of guinness and went home to sleep smiling. Sweet.



Filed under anecdotal

5 responses to “Dogs don’t speak.

  1. Thee Dr.

    ‘Jesus’?’ Towelhead scientist’?…and you made your students watch a cartoon with a dog in it…watch out man mass demonstration by unwashed bearded men might break out against you any moment :)…but seriously…sounds like a standard day in Quantan–Terminal Makamur was a piece of shit back when when we hung out there…and now…sounds even more grimm.

  2. LOL. The ‘unwashed bearded’ population is thankfully insignificant where I’m working. I doubt if any of them read this blog anyway. They named all the blocks in my school after a towelhead or another. Maybe I’ll name the library Perpustakan Seri Osama or the canteen Kafeteria Saddam Mampus.

    Regarding Terminal Makmur. Yeah the place stinks but charming in a rustic kinda way. Might do well as an eco-tourism destination. LOL.

  3. Thee Dr.

    ‘Perpustakaan Seri Osama’…’Kafeteria Saddam Mampus…’my man is classic!!! I love your irreverent humor…eco-tourism…hahahaha!!! I can hear the pitch right now: ‘See all the mat motor and UB heads in their natural habitat..’ 🙂

  4. LOL spot on Dr. Though the mat motor’s don’t go there anymore. They go to this new place called the ‘Esplanade’ by the Kuantan river, you know next to the MPK building where there’s this old graveyard. My wife and I would go for a drive, usually after a few drinks and I’d yell something like “Wah kereta spaceship” just to irritate the mat motors and boyracers there.

  5. Thee Dr.

    Hahahahah…!!!!If I could be rolling on the floor laughing like a motherfucker while crapping my pants I would be…stupid mat motors…’You got some ”Splanin’ to do!’ 🙂

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