theatre of delusions

Watching MU getting their asses whipped in their own backyard was incredibly satisfying. Not because I support the Kopites (gasp!). It's been a long time coming, this shattering of the arrogance emanated by the Mancunians and their fans. Never hurts to get a dose of reality before one becomes too inflated with delusions of grandeur. Of course, excuses are flying thick and fast, most bordering on the ludicrous. Who cares, to be honest, when the end result is still the same.

Speaking of same results, I caught Valkyrie last week, and it was good. Yeah, I know there are plenty of people who dislike Tom Cruise for a myriad reasons, but if one can transcend past the dislike, then the movie is worth a viewing. There's a fine balance between dialogue, suspense, drama and action. It's not as gripping and dark as Downfall, but it's nowhere near being a flop, despite most people's damning verdict. I mean, do we actually take reviewers seriously, especially Malaysian ones? Failed film students they are, as someone once pointed out, and I tend to agree.

And to sign off today's post, here's a joke. Where imbeciles rule, idiots will follow. Taken from one of the gov's favourite lackeys, The Star.

Kuala Lumpur, National Union of Journalists president Norila Mohd Daud said the media had the right to publish what they felt about leaders, especially in their columns.

“That is what we call press freedom. The Chief Minister is a leader and naturally people would want to watch and follow his policies and moves.

“Even the Opposition has been asking for press freedom. Newspapers do not report on negative issues only,” she said.

Question: Is the woman

A. oblivious? or

B. delusional?

C. both of the above?

Where do these moronic, crap-talking fuckwits come from?

fuel pumps; petrol not included

Define irony.

Price of petrol drops, the fuel pump in my car does a number.

In hindsight, it's a good thing I didn't fill 'er up on Wednesday; the petrol tank will have to be drained completely in order to replace the fuel pump. I don't know which was more deflating, knowing I'd have to spend around RM 100++ to remedy the situation, or spending close to four bloody hours in the MidValley carpark, with its sauna-like atmospheric air, mixed with the sweet smells of exhaust fumes and burning rubber. I contemplated taking a mechanic's course, at least ten times last night. Things definitely didn't take a turn for the better, when the mechanic suggested the petrol tank was empty. I was indignant initially, I'd like to think of myself as above those hare-brained drivers who have no inkling of their car's petrol content. I knew the fuel needle was just about above the 'E'; I pointed that out rather defensively to the chap, though he did retort by saying that I could have been running on petrol fumes. Embarrassing moment, number 326. Half an hour later, I felt fully vindicated when the car still didn't start after being filled with RM 10 worth of government-subsidised petrol. To cut a long story relatively shorter, the car is being nursed in the workshop, I've been car-less for the past 6 hours or so, and bound to be less wealthy. Ah well, seven years of fine service, the occasional hiccup is understandable. Good thing this happened before PD and Raya. That would have been a major bummer.

Speaking of which, I'm hoping and praying (and hoping again) that the roads down south will be clear tomorrow. There's nothing more pissing off than a two hour crawl in what's usually a one hour leisure drive. Stupid Malaysian Drivers is an oft-repeated verbal documentary in most social circles; rumour has it that the sequel, Brainless Malaysian Drivers, is making its way to the nearest mamak near you. One can almost taste the desperation in Priscilla Patrick's hoarse voice as she implores (to the point of begging) drivers to continue on their way instead of closely observing two stalled cars on the emergency lane...on the opposite side of the road. Personally I can attest to this irritating Malaysian trait. I pulled up to the side of Federal Highway to take something from my booth. As it happened, an acquaintance passed me by and stopped in front of my car. We got to chatting; the location left a bit to be desired. Lo and behold, a crawl developed after less than five minutes into our conversation. We were both amazed at this blatant display of stupidity. Amazing, I tell you. So we acted out a charade of arguing with one another and inspecting each other's car. We received propositions from no less than four tow-truckers, all of whom weren't too pleased that our cars were in perfect running condition. But yeah, Malaysian drivers.

Here's a slight rib tickler: How many Malaysian politicians can you trust? Just one, but that's because he's dead.

Well, I thought it's funny. So there.