I'm Not Asleep, My Eyes Are Just Closed

Films 1. 300 – Or as I like to call it, More Six-packs Than A Carlsberg Factory. Anyway, don’t let that fool you; it’s definitely a man’s man kind of movie. I went to see this purely based on seeing the trailer and for the fact that there was sod all to watch at the cinema, unless I watched Ghost Rider , which looked really bad anyways. I did not find out till the end of the film that it was based on a graphic novel which explains the direction and the look of the movie – short, sweet and to the point, with a beautiful palette of sharp-edged browns accented with the reds of the Spartan army’s capes. The plot is not too difficult: 300 Spartan warriors stand against the might of an invading Persian horde far superior in numbers. The fighting is graphic and gruesome – I physically gagged at a couple of scenes – and any other scenes not involving mass slaughter are well-paced and served the purpose of the story. There are a few hammy lines thrown in and some concession is made to emo scen

After watching a good episode of Supernatural , there are a few things I have to do before I can form any sort of coherent statements about what I had just watched. First, I need to control my idiotic grin whenever I think of The Brothers Winchester . Second, I need to get all my girly gushes out of the way via blithering to my fellow Supernatural fan, my sister Maryam. This used to be done by me lying on her bed, stealing all her pillows, waving my hands about in an excitable fashion then driving her off her own bed in my excitement. This is now made difficult by the fact that she has gone back to university 2000 miles away and blithering on a long distance phone call is murder to my wallet. And finally, I need to be able to get over the impulse of giving each brother a hug; depending on how the story went, either a consoling hug, an I’m-glad-you’re-safe hug, or just a you’re-so-cute-and-adorable hug. Sadly, I can never completely get over any of these impulses. I have managed to hav

Hi, my name is Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius, I like long walks on the beach and frisky women. I used to be one hell of an ugly kid, but I grew up to be a handsome devil. I have a little brother, Sam, but he’s not so little really because I’m 6’ 1 and he’s still taller than me. He makes me look like a short arse, the freaky Sasquatch. We were once a happy, normal family until my mother was killed when I was four years old. It could have been just an ordinary house fire except for the fact that my dad saw a yellow-eyed man pin my mother to a ceiling by an invisible force, made her bleed from the abdomen, and then set her and our family home on fire. My father, driven by grief and anger, spent the rest of his life, trying to find answers to who or what killed his wife. That mission would lead us all down a path we could never turn back from. It turned out that this yellow-eyed man is a special type of demon who don’t die easy and is slippery as hell. That wasn’t the end of our problem

What other way for a newspaper to kiss the ass of the Prime Minister than to give his son-in-law, the non-elected politician, a column in its pages? Thank you, New Straits Times, for ruining my Sundays by having Khairy Jamaludin’s smug mug looking at me over breakfast. Honestly, that man has no shame. No wonder Dr. M is disappointed with Pak Lah. --------------------------------------------------------- I was pleasantly amused to see Cineleisure Damansara provide several parking spaces for Single Female Driver located near the escalators in its basement car park. Someone obviously gave some thought to the escalating number of violent crime in the Klang Valley and the horrendous rape and subsequent murder involving single females that have made the headlines in the past few years. What really amused me was that these spaces, which were painted bright pink, were mostly empty on a busy Sunday afternoon. When able drivers will blatantly park in spaces reserved for the handicapped, it’s a

Jared Padalecki is a stupid bugger. He and anyone who says that Sam and Dean Winchester have to die for the show to end properly need their heads examining. Aaaarrgghh!!! How many times must I say this? No one will fondly remember this TV show, watch it repeatedly or buy the DVDs if we know the brother/s die at the end. Why do you think I can’t bring myself to watch Devil’s Trap or In My Time of Dying? It’s too heartbreaking! Stop trying to be realistic. This is a TV show, dammit. I watch it for escapism and eye candy. If I wanted real, I’d watch the news or British television. Come on, you’re Hollywood! Don’t you know the rules? You have happy endings! Riding off into the sunset! Freedom and justice for all! It’s the non-Americans, homely people and the wise-cracking smart asses that buy the farm. Good-looking hunks save the day and get the girl. Wait, hang on…….. Dean is a wise-cracking smart ass. NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! -------------------------------------------------------- Five minut

This is the house that my family have lived in for the past 29 years. There were seven of us. It has had an interesting life, this house. It has been renovated and extended several times. Its roof leaks when the wind blows in a certain direction and when it rains hard enough. It has had rats, cockroaches and various small children poke holes in its walls. It has heard screaming matches and shrieks of laughter. It has been witness to torrents of tears, fits of rages, and fierce bouts of love. Its garden is a graveyard of cats, kittens, birds, lizards, snakes and assorted small animals. This was my home. This is our garden. There used to be a durian tree here which only bore fruit once in a blue moon, much to our family’s (and our neighbours’) disappointment. It was great for climbing though and it had a rickety swing which hung from one of its branches. Its life ended when it had to be cut down because its roots grew so huge that it cracked our front porch. There used to be a coconut tr

This is KL I've been hearing it from cousins and various relatives living in smaller towns and more rural areas - people in KL are a breed apart. I think they're being polite. What they mean to say is KL people are just up their own asses. When they say KL, they don't necessarily mean the city of Kuala Lumpur itself but also that amorphous sprawl of suburbia that extends past the city itself. Sometimes people just call this vast area of human colonisation the Klang Valley. Geographically, the Klang Valley is a huge place, extending from the Titiwangsa mountain range in the north and east from which the Klang river starts and ending where land meets water in the Straits of Melaka. PJ kids and KL kids might get indignant when you lump them in the same group but to anyone who lived outside the influence of the capital city, they are all one and the same. The growth of the middle classes since Independence 50 years ago mean middle class neighbourhoods have mushroomed as well, a

I did not want to get too involved in the Supernatural forums; I did it before on a previous obsession and it near ruined me. Before this season’s Supernatural went on a three week hiatus, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I went on the Supernatural forum. I admit I go to the website regularly. I look at the promos for future episodes. Occasionally, out of curiosity, I look up info on Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, but I don’t delve too personally into their personal lives because: a) they are not Sam and Dean Winchester b) they are luvvie actors, not intrepid demon hunters But desperate times call for desperate measures. With a new episode of Supernatural not airing till March 15, there are only so many times I can note how hot evil Sam is before I get bored. First, I read about what other people think about Supernatural, which on a forum dedicated to Supernatural on a website dedicated to Supernatural, means that the reviews go from generally good to scre

She knew she had it bad when she got up from the bed and felt disoriented. Stumbling towards her bedroom door, she opened it and peered out. The landing outside her bedroom was dark except for what was illuminated by the light from her room. The dark body of the bookcase towered to her left and she could see the shadows cast by the banister on the wall. The sun had set while she had been reading and no one had turned the lights on. She was alone upstairs. For a moment she hesitated. Half-formed nightmares and a sense of impending doom gripped her before she realised she was being silly. Switch on the light , she told herself. She took a step away from the doorway and pressed the light switch. The light flickered for a couple of seconds before its white fluorescence steadied and illuminated the landing. There were no shadows anymore. No demonic creatures bent on torture and murder, no homicidal bogeymen with claws dripping with blood. Letting out the breath she did not realise she had b