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The Sony Ericsson k700i is the new Sony Ericsson T610. The same crowd bought it.

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GSC Cinemas open in Berjaya Times Square! There, at the third floor.

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I am now the proud owner of a Mazda RX-8.

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Gotta love the mesmerizing taillights.

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Okay, so it's a left-hand drive but heck, I got it cheap.

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Oh, and it's small for a Transformer Alternator.

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Of course, considering that the Rubik Cube it sat on is the biggest, at over 150% of an originally-sized cube, it isn't that small after all. From left: Corinne got me this early birthday present; the normal-sized cube, the 133% sized cube, and the 150% super-sized one.

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What a poser. I mean, literally, with superb articulation and detail.

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Meister, really, is Jazz in a rebranded disguise.

This, an 8-in-1 card reader, and the excellent Power Of Soul: A Tribute To Jimi Hendrix have satiated my purchasing tendencies for this month, I hope.

I can cut down on my Teh Tarik to lower my sugar levels, but what can I do about a broken heart?

It was about time Davina joined the blogging bandwagon. Yes, that hippie vegetarian who is always on the cartooniest sugar high. The funky never-looks-the-same Jamiroquai and Beatles fan, about 6 years before I discovered them. The one who will undoubtedly win the Albert's Funkiest Friend award. And so, I've updated my links in my About Me! page.

Friday: Starbucks Mont Kiara

I went for the second half of the KLue Starbucks Music Series.

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Ronnie Khoo, of the band formerly known as RUSH and now known as Furniture, Wednesday and also Ciplaq (or however they spell it.) I missed most of his set waiting for my food.

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Bedsheet Wonders, two guys on acoustic guitar, had arrangements so obviously electric. They were more on the British sound, which made me notice that this Music Series was more... focused around the tastes of KLue writers. They all seem to like British self-slitting melancholia and alternative indie. I, on the other hand, only properly like Black Sabbath of all those that come from the UK!

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Her Reverie had a more American indie sound to them. Three guitars, no disappointment; Sui Lin was backed up with the percussionist's elaborate arranged vocals, and the guitarists took turns to solo.

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I haven't seen a guitarist use a guitar slide live much, so this was cool. The other guitarist also played a harmonica, but they weren't playing the blues.

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I think that owners of Volkswagen Beetles have a sense of collectiveness. I bet it wasn't even a Beetles gathering. If I had a Beetle, I'd park next to a Beetle for the fun of it. And so, a chain of Beetles would form, as everyone knows that classic Beetles attract attention.

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Even mannequins love a little tease.

I'd love to blog about the hitz.fm Birthday Bash, but it seems that I have lost all capability to blog without the aid of pictures to distract you from my uncreative prose. Despite my camera being in a locker where we were always one buck short, enough pictures were taken that I was certain I was going to crash my Mercedes in a tunnel.

Many years ago, 2002 to be exact, a group of friends and I were in KLCC. We felt like eating McDonalds, so we took the LRT to Masjid Jamek.

A blur girl later scolded me. "Why didn't we just stay in KLCC? There's a McDonalds there what."

I later SMSed her. "Huh, there's one in KLCC? I don't know where it is, but my friend says it's between the Pizza Hut and Starbucks."

Now the joke was that then, Pizza Hut, Starbucks and McDonalds did not exist in KLCC.

Starbucks opened on December 19th, 2002.

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Spot the McDonalds in the center food court.

After almost 7 years (Suria KLCC soft-launched on May 8th, 1998), KLCC is blessed with a fast food chain which is value for money and cheap. Alas, it came too late, as KLCC regulars like Shaz and myself fell in love with Burger King, their greasy triple whoppers and refillable coke. And then there's the flexibility of mixing your drinks ala Shannon's 25% Sprite, 75% Coke.

Sorry Ronald, you came 4 years too late. My allegiance is now with Cosmo Restaurants, not Golden Arches.

I went for my medical checkup yesterday with my colleagues. Now, the word medical checkup as defined by American sitcoms consist of a few tests including one where the examiner puts on gloves and asks you to take off your pants.

* Names have been initialized for privacy

J was the first to be called in.

Me: Did they, y'know... (makes a putting-on-gloves gesture)
J: I'm... not... a... virgin... anymore... (while walking funny)
Me: Ow! Did they make you sit in any position?
J: She made me bend over. She also said, "Eee! So small! So cute! Make it blink!"

J was called in again, to take a blood test and answer questions.

He came out with both elbows folded, fists pointing upwards.

"He poked the left at first. Then he was like "Oops no blood!" and then he poked the right."

My blood test wasn't as unfortunate. I didn't look as he swabbed it. The doctor said, "Hmmm, this will be a bit messy." At least there was blood. :)

I also found out that I had high levels of sugar. Like, diabetic levels. I was taken aback by that, since I wasn't a chocolate or coffee junkie! I'd rather have chips than sweets! All I have in the mornings is a Teh Tarik and Soya Bean in the evening. A possible culprit would be the sweets I consume around the office, but that can be forsaken.

This morning, I had my first ever Teh Tarik Kurang Manis (tea with condensed milk, but less sweet this time). For lunch, I endured the office cafeteria's no-sugar-added orange juice. (One would usually pour in some sugar to mix.)

I'm scared. Really. I don't wanna jab myself with insulin everyday! The reason why I'm not a druggie is because I can't swallow pills, I can't inject myself, I have a sensitive nose (pass *koff* that *koff*joint*koff*) and I am naturally stoned around the smell of cigarette smoke.

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I did not steal these glasses from the IMAX theater. My colleague did.

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Behold, the new wing of Avenue K! The place has a certain educated middle-class art savant appeal about it. Some walls are unashamedly black. This isn't Starhill.

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There was an art exhibition of sorts, where one of the exhibits was this trippy fractal. In the background, spacey synth music played. I recognized it as Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here. Doesn't saying that you know Pink Floyd make you loads cooler among your music elitist friends? Any rocker can know Jimi Hendrix, but David Gilmour and gang? And so, my MSN nickname is "So, so you think you can tell heaven from hell?" (It's the first line of the song.) Yes I intentionally picked that line because it looks like it was inspired by Constantine.

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Hairloom. No, really. A dress made of hair.

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We now teleport to The Curve, a trendy upmarket shopping mall which has blue lights adorning its sanitized version of Petaling Street. Captain's log, 17th February 2005.

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The last time I had this chocolate cinnamon roll was at the previous KLue Chillout Series. This time round, it was called the KLue Starbucks Music Series.

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Sei Hon was your regular folk singer in the key of G Major. For some reason, my exposure to acoustic guitar virtuosos has made my appreciation of heart-felt singing/songwriting dwindle. In less polite terms, I didn't take any interest in his performance.

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Lied was more interesting, with rock-fied guitar chords and melancholic (but angry) vocals.

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Qings & Kueens were back in town. The guitarist now sported a most appetizing, wall-paint-color retro guitar. It took me a while to figure out it was an Ibanez Talman Artcore series from its logo, as 'Ibanez' wasn't written anywhere.

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Now that's what I call a fruit shake.

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The one-night-only guest, Reza melted hearts again. It seemed that the crowd was anticipating (as much as I was) his finale, that jazzy song with the cute little blues riff. They cheered before that. Tracy, you missed the shiznit.

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Reza had a trick up his sleeve. A setlist behind his guitar!

Again, ask me if you want the videos and un-Photoshopped pictures. I have a DVD burner. I am a nice person if you are nice to me.

Free tickets, to those who have plenty, have always been a curse.

What? Free tickets? Oh anyway Constantine was nice, confusion withstanding... cool effects, a storyline that will take a while to sink in (and perhaps, people who have watched it three times to explain it to you...)

To raZZbeRRy: Here's an eligible cabbie (the one I met last Valentine's Day...)

Yes, plenty of random pictures will come later.

Why is everybody who is flying off to Australia doing so on February the 14th?

I imagine the most bittersweet drama moments happening at an airport, where students decide not to fly off (yet). Either that, or they'd have Valentine's Day celebrations at the airport, where everything is fantastically priced. :)

Haha screw them, I won't be there to see anybody off.

And no, I'm not going to Australia. What's the big deal about that place? It's just expensive. Malaysians who go there end up hanging out with their Malaysian friends. What is the point of that then? I'd go there to experience some blitherin' foreign culture, man. Think you've got dengue and saw your life flash you by? Well go there and pick locusts off you, mate. Go have some refillable coke at Hungry Jack. Go learn the Melbourne Shuffle.

But no.

I see people coming back from Australia, and they go, "Aiyee!!! S.H.E.! 5566!!! Jay Chou!!!" in their Australian accents.

P.S. To Patrick and Ed: This rant was not meant for you.

No call in the morning can be nicer than one asking how to spell your name in your graduation letter. Yes, Albert is part of my name as it is in my identity card.

After getting my Mutlimedia diploma, I took a while to finish my Advanced Diploma, failing, failing again, taking a break, failing, and finally, passing.

Ironically, I never failed a subject till the last semester. Little did I know that that last semester would extend this far. But hey, screw you if you think I'm slow. At least in total the college was not paid more than RM3333 for er... 4 years.

Friday

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After the hitz.tv Blast Off semifinals, my friends and I had dinner at Hard Rock Cafe. They played Jamiroquai - Travelling Without Moving and the cool camp cover Scissor Sisters - Comfortably Numb. On the ride home, the driver popped Jamiroquai's Travelling Without Moving CD. How ironic.

Saturday

I headed to somebody's farewell and her boyfriend's birthday party. In the background, the same Jamiroquai album was spinning!

* She, for most of the blog entry, will refer to the host unless otherwise stated.

The first thing she said when she met me was:

"Wah I never knew a Chinaman could grow a beard!"

She was, of course, referring to the beard that weirdly curled to my right. Refer to my Friendster picture as it's not there anymore.

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Her (female) collegemates gave her a farewell butt grab as well.

Me: What's so great about your butt that everybody's grabbing it?
She: You ask my boyfriend first.
Me: I bet he'd say, "oh you try lah, then you'll know why everybody wants to do it." (Uh dude if you're reading this, it's our kinda humor, I think...)

We had two guitars and a blues jam.

As I sat explaining how to read tablature, she said, "Albert! Come come you must get drunk! Sleep over ah."

She got me a glass. Optimists say the glass is half bacardi. Pessimists say the glass is half zappel.

I rolled like a dog wanting a scratch. "I'll get you some more," she said. I continued pretending to be drunk.

She beckoned me to try the bed in that service apartment. She fell in it. I aimed for the pillow but only reached two thirds up the bed. I then crawled up to the pillow. Comfy pillow. If I could see myself doing that, I would laugh at my high-ness.

"So, what you poured me right, was it supposed to make me this high? What did you have?"
"I had what you had, and a shot of..."

She then ran to the toilet for a purging session.

I never did find out what this other drink was, and whether the coke and bacardi I was sipping was just as potent. Being high, I didn't want to find my limits the same way she did. If we had the same amonut, I could proclaim, "THE CHINAMAN WINS!"

I then headed out to see if I had the same magic touch on the guitar with shisha. Apparently, my ears weren't hearing magic. I was messing up and I knew it.

My friend brought a DVD player, and it was playing an Indian comedy (in English) called "Where's The Party At?" Each time he passed with a beer in hand, he beckoned me to come into the room and watch the movie. He said, "Where's The Party At?", with both thumbs up, and an Indian accent complete with head jiggle. I swear, even if I wasn't high and space wasn't warping around him, I'd be laughing my head off.

Once the host was done puking, she beckoned me into the comfort of the bed again, to join this other girl. We lay beside each other and she gave me the horniest smile ever.

I woke up fully clothed.

Later at lunch, she apologized to her boyfriend, "I'm so sorry! I forgot to sleep with you!"

And in other unrelated developments:

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The Canon Ixus sucks. Yeah, cover the letter I and you get the message. You can't copy files into it. (Other digicams work as removable hard drives as well.) Its proprietary battery will die fast after 3 months.

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Plasma TVs suck too. Top left: Original image, white background; top-right: increased contrast. Bottom: usual screen. Yes, there was a hidden message - it was like a ghost image was etched, just like those old CRT monitors.

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Is the KFC Original Recipe Burger good? Why, it's so good, you'd wanna eat 3 or 4 of them at one go!

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Well I'm not complaining about this laptop's size... or its touch screen. It's slightly bigger than an exercise book.

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Miu Kai: 3-thumbs-up cheese-baked rice among the dishes. It's different from Kim Gary's though; it's not a solid layer of baked cheese but more like condensed mushroom soup poured over the rice. Still very full-filling.

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Coke with lemon. Better than the canned mix.

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NOOO the guitar fell head first onto the marble floor! Thus, the most impact would be felt right at the nut (the white part as you can see doesn't cast a shadow in the center part.) So far intonation seems alright to my untrained ear, but tuning problems might occur later...

So my dad is the man. I just found out today when he gave me this financial lecture.

Apparently he wrote the program that decided the currency exchange rate. (Dad; that was who I got my programming start from.) He was the one to say RM3.80 for 1 US Dollar, and the number got passed upwards. No, he did not work in Cyberjaya and drive a Mercedes. He was in a government office so unknown (but not confidential), all we see is an octagon and a circle in our Kemahiran Hidup (Living Skills) textbooks. He drove a rustmobile until it was decommisioned, and so we had to wait for my mom to fetch us from the LRT station until he retired.

Three reactions came to me:

"Really?" (Okay so my dad isn't one to make up stuff like this.)
"Shiiit how cool is that. You have dulled every habitual shopper's purchasing power." (I'm not talking about grocery shopping, I'm talking about imported CDs, clothes, handphones, cars, etc... everything we deem as a cool want.)
"Why the heck did you put it so high?"

He answered the last question, saying that it was the rate then. Oh, how I'd wish it would be RM2.50 per US Dollar so I could afford to buy more stuff online. Who the heck would benefit from such a high rate anyway? Pegging sadly accelerated inflation. The pros and cons of such a number (and the pegging and unpegging) would be coffeeshop controversial and so I shall not disclose that part of the conversation. Or maybe I just didn't understand enough to convey it here with the strength to defend my claims the way some popular Malaysian bloggers have.