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"Is it weird in here or is it just me?" Woody Allen

HOWDY! This is a platform for me to express myself. To bare my thoughts, emotions and life stories. Leaving bite-size pieces of me before I go. I graciously invite you to comment, swap stories and thoughts. Please post your comment or get in touch with me here.


alexandra wong
lynn wabbit

09.03 10.03 01.04 02.04 03.04 04.04 05.04 06.04 07.04 08.04 09.04 10.04 11.04 12.04 01.05 02.05 03.05 04.05 05.05 06.05 07.05 08.05 09.05 10.05 11.05 12.05 01.06 02.06 03.06 04.06 05.06 06.06 07.06 08.06 09.06 10.06 11.06 12.06 01.07 02.07 03.07 04.07 05.07 06.07 07.07 08.07 09.07 10.07 11.07 02.08 03.08 05.08 09.08 10.08 12.08 02.09 04.09 05.09 06.09 07.09

a rustic analysis*
bo leh*
buat donno*
jakun & boon cit - a love story. not.*
jingling nona*
many happy returns of the day, u sexy u*
love misunderstood*
no willy*
perfect man*
save me from this misery*
tan ah yam, i'm sorry*

an interview with joe blogs*
woo! a review!*

halong bay - you jump, i save you*
hanoi on my mind*
hanoi - in search of the pain-in-the-arse ice cream and other stories in between*
sungai petani, my hometown* [pt 1]
leave my country* [pt 1]
leave my country* [pt 2]
ozcapade* [pt 1]
ozcapade* [pt 2]
ozcapade* [pt 3a]
ozcapade* [pt 3b]
moomoo vista* [pt 1]
moomoo vista* [pt 2]
moomoo vista* [pt 3]
ah moy in paris* [pt 1]

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i see with my bespectacled eyes...* 

can see or not?

I saw it when dear Mr. Rice was drawing it. When we were in the cab, I asked Raine if she sees it too. She said "Now that you mentioned it, ya la, but I don't think he will draw such thing la..." and I let the matter lie. For a short while.

Then I showed it to Tim and asked if he could see it. He said No. Mei also gave me the same answer. And no one brought it up when I posted the story.

I am beginning to wonder if I am in fact as dirty-minded as my friends and siblings say I am.

So what did I see, you ask? Err...I saw with my 4-eyes the doodle of a girl holding a dick with flower at the end. I mean, don't tell me you didn't notice the 2 nuts and 1 standing boner?

Really meh? You really cannot see it? Really, really? Cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die really? I still don't believe you lor...

Now the million dollar question - should I throw my dirty head into the washing machine for a good spin? Sigh.

April 25, 2006 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 7:33 pm

where’ve you gone, dudes?* 

Since young, I have been more inclined to make friends with the male gender. Now don’t get me wrong. When I say “make friends”, I meant exactly that. Literally. Being a tomboy since young, and blunt and crass and sometimes vulgar, I don’t fit into the whole feminine mannerism and thus felt more comfortable being around the boys.

I grew up playing guli [marbles] and arm-wrestling with my male neighbors. I even had my own solitude hiding place in a “tree house” made from one solid plank placed securely on two branches on the mango tree, where I liked to throw water-filled balloons at the Malay boys when they returned from their Maghrib prayers.

I guess that could have been influenced by my upbringing. Being born as the fourth daughter in the family, my dad had always wanted me as a boy. And to accentuate that assumption, he bought me toy soldiers, fishing sets, guns of various types and sizes, battery operated robots and darts to play with. Being deprived of a Barbie doll to play with, I think that’s why I am a bit screwed up now. Heh.

Anyway, one of my favourite hobbies during my teen years was pen pal writing. At one point, I had about 15 pen pals from around the world. I spent most of my allowances and savings on postage. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess that I write to mostly males. From that pool, there were 3 whom have impacted my life most. Though we have lost touch, I still do cherish them greatly and think of them once awhile. Wondering where they are now. How they are leading their lives. And how I miss them. Ever so much.

They are:


Alan was about 11 years my senior and was a struggling artist when he first wrote to me. He writes well and is full of emotion. You can say he was my English teacher – I learnt so many new words from his letters. Our topics ranged from his constant struggles as an artist; trying to sell his work, getting sponsors for exhibitions, his teaching job in an art school to stories of his hang-out sessions with Mick Hucknall from Simply Red, who was his peer in Manchester Art School. He even sent me a Polaroid of Mick taken on set of “Money’s Too Tight To Mention” video. See, back in 1985, Simply Red was just an upcoming UK band. With all those stories, I think that’s one of the reasons why I always have a soft spot for the group and felt like I had some sort of a distant “connection” with Mr. Hucknall personally. [Perasan la tuu...]

He wrote of his struggle – Whereby most people work to earn money for their “free” time, many artists must work in their “free” time to earn money for their work. Crazy eh?

Alan was my emotional consultant as he was very matured. He gave me a lot of moral support to be what I want to be, to go after my dream no matter how hard it may take to achieve. He shared details of his dates (the good, the bad and the horror) and the last I remembered; he was dating a sculptor by the name of Jill Randall. I hope they are married coz he was crazy for her.

Here are 2 of Alan’s colourful works, which were printed as postcards.

“Snooker Loopy”

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“The Man Who Couldn’t Resist A Joke”

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And here's an added bonus - 2 sculpture works by Jill Randall. [Updated 24 Feb]

"Singing A New Song"

"End Of The Line"


Jacob was one rascal and I loved his authentic sense of humor. He must one of the most colorful men I’ve ever known and he cracked me up with his writings. When I first knew him, he had just completed SPM and was working as a croupier in Genting while awaiting the results. He shared many gamblers’ stories which were appalling. And thereafter he went to PJ Community College near Asia Jaya for his twinning course in Business Admin.

In his letters, he shared all the dates he had, his lecturers, his peers, the girls he scored homerun with (including some explicit details) and also his Casanova moves on one particular girl whom he had the lust for. I think her name was Amy.

He ridiculed me as the kampong girl who has yet to be deflowered and see the world. When I came to KL in 1988, I met up with him and Amy. Amy told me that he was so excited to having finally met me after 3 years of corresponding. And I, the same. Before I left for KL, he wrote me this…

“The escalators are able to move up on its own. So remember: you just stand still and don’t walk up like a normal staircase. Please don’t embarrass yourself.” Bastard.

Thereafter, he left for USA and we continued corresponding. For my 21st birthday, he sent me Playgirl magazine as my “deflowering” present. The magazine was placed between some university brochures. He must have conned the administrator to send the university brochures to me, a potential candidate. Clever move – (i) the mag passed through our Malaysian postal censors (ii) he saved some postage dosh.

After scrutinizing the pages for a week, I remembered asking him why all the American dicks are so small and limp. Even the American Africans’. Fuyoh - the sarcastic reply I got from him was super colourful. Haha.

He sent me lots of nonsense stuffs too - like colorful and flavoured condoms and some US military secret films about UFOs existence, which I had to hide them somewhere safe. Like real.

When he returned to KL after his graduation, he worked in for a local institution for awhile and married Amy. We met once and then we lost touch. Sad.


Aszman was the kindest man I’ve ever known. While he also has his own unique sense of humor, we shared so much in common it was unbelievable. Our letters are always 3-5 pages long at minimum. He writes poetically and I love to read and reread his letters every other day until I receive a new one. And then the cycle starts again.

I knew him when he was in Form 3 and I was in Form 1. After SPM, he got himself a scholarship to study Mechanical Engineering in the University of Sheffield. While he was in UK, he influenced me with lots of UK bands. One of them was U2, especially the album “Joshua Tree”. I was a Top of The Pops junkie; whereby I subscribed to a monthly dose of new shows on video. We would discuss about the performances played, latest videos and latest hits.

By the time he graduated, I had migrated to KL to study. He joined Shell in Miri and would come down about twice a year for meetings. We met after 7 years of correspondence and it was the best meet ever. We just talked and talked and talked over countless paper cups of Coke at the food court in Lot 10. I loved his Brit accent with his semi-deep voice and how he chuckled at my jokes. He looked much better in person than his passport photograph, which at that particular angle made him looked somewhat Neanderthal. Orang Asli mah. Haa.

Like Alan and Jacob, he too shared about his rendezvous with a Singaporean pen pal, whom he later married. After that, we too lost touch.

Looking back, I must say that I loved them like brothers. They were my pillar of emotional support and confidantes during my adolescent years. They knew details about me even my mother is not aware of and me, them. If I had to do it all over again, I would still choose them three. Without a doubt. Without a blink.

I pray that one fine day they would be narcissistic enough to google their own name and find this post. I would love to resume the friendship from where we left off.

Where have you all gone, dudes? I miss you lots.

April 22, 2006 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 11:48 am

to oz i go go* 

Well, whaddya know. It’s been six good months since my Indian trip and my sorry ass is itching so bad, even a dozen Zentol won’t help. And I doubt it has anything to do with worms. Methink me got bitten by the travel bug again.

And as I mentioned before, God has been very good and I have been blessed abundantly. Hallelujah! Though I had initially pushed my Aussie trip to 2007, life’s great twist turned it around and pushed the plan back in gear to this year. So off I will go in mid May. For 18 days. Glee.

I must say this is a rather ambitious solo trip. The trip will cover 3D3N Gold Coast -5D5N Sydney - 6D5N Melbourne - 4D4N Alice Springs /Uluru (Ayer’s Rock). Budget will be super tight, but I think I’ll manage. I hope. I pray. All my accommodations are covered as I’ll be bunking with friends who have migrated there, except for Alice Springs and Uluru, where I will book into some youth hostel. [Aiyo, gotta check if I can still be classified under the “youth” bracket. 42 years still youthful what! No meh?]

Some of the things I really want to do are:
o Gold Coast – Drive the BatMobile to the horizon. With Keith Urban. [Ya, right!]
o Sydney – Visit Blue Mountain, take a jet boat ride along the Opera House, shop at Paddington Market and hike up the Sydney Harbour Bridge at night.
o Melbourne – Take a slow ride along Great Ocean Road, shop at St. Kilda market and meet up with a couple of girlfriends and doing lots of cooking. Also visit one or two museums. Seek job opportunity.
o Alice Springs & Uluru – Hike up and around Ayer’s Rock, star gazing in the desert and buy an Aborigine art piece. Maybe, just maybe, hire a Harley ride.

Here’s where you can help - If you have any idea how to travel to Alice Springs to and from Melbourne by bus or flight or train, please drop me your advice. Or if you have any other suggestion of what else I can do on this trip, drop me a line too. Places to eat. Places to visit. Nice gigs. Anything.

Thanks mushily in advance.

April 18, 2006 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 11:02 pm

benjamin costello* 

Penny for your thoughts :)

Even though I was still in a daze being damienized, that doesn’t mean my stalking capability was at a halt. I'm a woman, remember? I can still multitask. So there I was, downloading the live freebies from eskimofriends, when I decided to check out some covers done by the fans. It was then I stumbled upon a cover of ‘Older Chests’ and was thunderstruck by it – it was really awesome! So I decided to download another cover of ‘Volcano’ done by the same person and it was good too.

That was enough to spur me to google his name - Benjamin Costello - which lead me to his website. Here, I found out that he has done lots of covers of Damien Rice, Radiohead, Death Cab For Cutie [I really dig his version of ‘A Lack Of Color’. The piano background was just brilliant! Death Cab would be so proud, dear Benjamin!], John Mayor, Coldplay, George Harrison (Real Love), Don McClen (Vincent) and Jewel. He also covered Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’ in Eva Cassidy style. Wow, I thought this was like hitting the jackpot - here is one singer who shares the exact same taste in music as me and he sings them so well too.

A little more trivia:
Benjamin is actually a budding singer-songwriter who is in the midst of recording his first album, titled “Start Again Tomorrow”. He has just started a blog on the album making journal here. I really dig journal stuff like this. Though I can’t sing to save my own life, I appreciate people who are gifted in that area and when I read their journal, I can almost imagine going through it myself, if I were blessed with the gift of music too. Almost. And I like them even more when they share their stuff.

As I am a firm believer of reaping what you sow, in exchange to all the freebies which I have downloaded, I decided to share this talented being with you all.

So don’t just take my word for it. Go and give Mr. Benjamin Costello a listen and I’m sure you will be converted as a fan too. And please tell him I sent you. Woo!

April 14, 2006 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 10:02 pm


Well, what can I say? It’s been 13 days since the concert at Suntec Theatre and I’m still in a daze.

It all started with me reading a post, then the daydream to attend Damien Rice’s concert one fine day, and then maybe a chance to meet him in the flesh. And if I’m lucky, maybe with an autograph thrown in. Fat chance la, I thought, he’d never come this side of the globe. And I left it be as another of my desires.

Desires…Have I ever told you that I was given a prophecy back in 1999, that God will give me my heart’s desires? I will dwell more on this in another post, but I will tell you this much for now – He hasn’t disappointed.

See, I had already planned to go to Singapore from 29th – 1 April since February. Basically I wanted to do a bit of domesticated shopping – to get a new mop and few packs of multipurpose wipe cloth. Yes, you read that correctly. I needed to stock up on those wipes. So when I found out that the concert was on the 30th, I was bowled over at the coincidence. Perfect timing!

Fast forward of events thereafter:
Raine confirmed going for the concert too -> I wanted the S$138 ticket, she the S$68, we compromised and decided to meet each other halfway with the S$98 ticket -> I booked the bus tickets -> on the 30th morning, we journeyed down south.

Also, a week prior, I started memorizing all the lyrics. For me, it’s crucial to know the songs by heart prior to any concert, in order to sing along and enjoy the show to the max. An added fun would be the ability to detect mistakes made by the singers themselves. There was once, an uncle sang “Susie came to town last night on the 1945” when it should be “7.43”. And I thought only my mother never taught me arithmetic and numbers. Heh.

The show kicked off at 8.30pm with the song ‘The Professor & La Fille Danse’, followed by ‘Delicate’, ‘Woman Like A Man’ and then on the fourth song, ‘I Remember’, the irony took place. He had sung the first line and then he sighed the loveliest melody of an exhale made by any man and continued strumming his guitar. I turned to Raine and whispered, “I think he forgot his lyrics!” Almost immediately, Damien spoke for the first time, “This is ironic – The song is called ‘I Remember’ and I had forgotten the lyrics!” For a sec, I wanted to do the heroic thing – to run down the stage and pass him my lyrics sheet, but I chickened out and stayed put on my seat. It’s the classic case of the willing heart and the wobbly legs.

The best performance was for ‘Cold Water’, which Damien requested for the stage lights to be switched off. So all I could see was his silhouette. The desperate cry to the Lord was so strong and heartfelt on the chorus bit that it sent shivers down my spine. This is Damien Rice at his best, I thought. Song after song, all I could do was just absorbed myself to the whole candlelit setting, the silhouette, the vocal, the raw strumming of his guitar, a short playful snore, a few more forgotten lines, many more lovely sighs, up to the last song ‘The Blower’s Daughter’, which he sneaked in 2 verses of Radiohead’s ‘Creep’ towards the end before drifting softly to the line “Til I find somebody new…” He definitely deserved the standing ovation which lingered for a good 10 minutes.

[When I told Mei about the lovely sigh, she snapped back, “Aiya. Even if he farts, you will also think it smells nice la.” Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such unrefined friends I have. I will discount that to jealousy talk la.]

Even though I knew the show is over, I wanted to hang around for a while longer in the theatre hoping to catch another glimpse of the man again. Outside the theatre, I kept my ears peeled to kepoh [busy body] a bit and to hear others’ experiences; a group of 3 girls were spellbound at the fact that one of them shouted a line to “Childish” to Damien, a girl claimed she never liked ‘Cold Water’ until that night, and many more. We sat on the floor outside the theatre until everyone has left before we went down the escalator toward the exit.

The queue for taxi was long, and many decided to call for their cabs. One by one, the crowd dispersed and I was getting a bit restless. Then we decided to call for a cab ourselves and were told to wait another 8 minutes. In my heart, though the concert was swell and all, I was a bit disappointed to the fact that even on Row 14, all I could see was a blurred vision and silhouette of Damien. I had brought my CD in vain, I thought.

Then the unthinkable happened. I turned and I saw him! For a moment I was unsure if it was him and blinked copiously, but then I recognized that patchwork shirt. Oh gosh, it’s Damien Rice walking out with a Caucasian man and a tall girl. No bodyguard. No nothing. I started jumping like a kangaroo on heat and screamed at Raine, “It’s Damien! It’s Damien!”. While I continued jumping away, I asked Raine if I should go and ask for an autograph. She screamed back, “Go lah. What you waiting for???” So I ran after him and tapped his shoulder. He turned and our eyes met. I must tell you he has the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen. “Hi Damien, can I have an autograph puh-leez?” “Sure.” He replied with a smile.

I opened my backpack, carefully pulled out the CD which was placed inside a plastic seal, and pass it to him. He asked if I had a pen. At this point, God was having fun as well – I searched and searched my bag and could not find my freaking pen. Damien chuckled and asked “It’s in there somewhere, eh?” I blushed and apologized and felt like Oda Mae Brown (Whoopi Goldberg) in ‘Ghost’ where she had a bagful of rubbish and could not find a pen either. Raine was a good ally and started asking around for a pen. Then Damien’s male friend said he’s got one and passed it to Damien. What a relief!

Me and Raine quickly sandwiched him as he wrote my name and doodled a girl holding a flower before signing his name next to it. The guy friend asked if we would like him to take our photo with Damien and we shrieked our yeses. As we posed for the picture, I could feel Damien tapping his fingers on my waist. I cannot explain the feeling of it all but the thought of not bathing for a week did crossed my mind. Right after, the guy showed us the photo, we said our thanks and the three of them continued their way. Five steps after, me and Raine screamed and jumped in delight and he did a double take on that. He must have thought us crazy.

See, desires fulfilled! If I have to sum up this whole experience in one word, it would definitely be ORGASMIC. And as aptly as it may sound, I believe that’s what “O” stands for.

And I am not faking it.

Heh. Don't Jeles!

P/S The CD cover has been framed up to preserve Mr. Rice’s DNA. Ha.

April 12, 2006 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 1:31 pm

panic on the airwaves* 

One of my favourite bands during my teens was The Smiths, with frontman Morrissey. I still remember the first time I saw him on Top Of The Pops – he had a short tree branch hanging out from his right jeans pocket, and he was swinging around in lame circles singing ‘The Boy With The Thorn In His Side’. That particular geek-twirl totally sworn me over. Even as I write this, I can still remember that bop vividly. As though it was engraved on my memory bank.

But it was the song ‘Panic’ which I liked most. This song is so good, even Pete Yorn did a cover of it. A slower, melancholic version. Sometimes I wish I could personally execute on the last bit of the song especially on the part about hanging the DJs, whenever I hear the bad ones yapping away on the radio with their utter crap. Not to mention their trivial pursuit to crack jokes with their hideous sense of humor. Or lack of it.

And Morrissey sings…

Burn down the disco radio
Hang the blessed DJ

Because the music that they constantly play
It says nothing to me about my life
Hang the blessed DJ
Because the music they constantly play
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ

If the radio DJs are so bad, then listen to the CD player la, you may quipped. Well, here’s where the problem lies – I am cheaper than cheap. If I have to choose a middle name, it would be ‘cheap’. And one of the consequences I have to bear from being cheap is the lack of a CD player in my car. And the cassette player has a mind of its own. Lunatic at most times. Hence, I am left to the mercy of the radio DJs as my only source of morning and evening crucifixion entertainment while crawling to and from work.

And honestly I have no problem with the medium itself. In fact, radio listening used to be an intense hobby of mine since I was 9 years old. At that time, the choice was obvious - RAAF Radio Station [RAAF = Royal Australian Air Force] which was based in Butterworth. I would definitely place it as my all-time favourite radio station. All the DJs works in the Air Force and a handful took turn to play the songs. This was where I was influenced to Aussie music; in the likes of Mental as Anything, John Farnham, INXS, Air Supply, Hot Chocolate and many more. I liked the Sundays’ Top 40 hits the best - 3 hours of 40 non-stop hits. The DJs were really smooth and faultless. I remember crying when they had to stop the transmission back in the late 80s.

The nearest competitor at that time was Radio 4 with the irritating and self-absorbed Janet Ambrose. She was so funny that the sole laughter for all her attempt of jokes was her own. And even that sounded forced. She’s so in love with her voice that she yakked even after the song has started. If there’s one word to describe her, it’s PAINFUL. Her endless yakking is deafening. Since then, I have continued to use her as the benchmark for bad DJs.

And during my teens, I used to wake up at 2.30am every Tuesday to catch ‘The Jolly Good Show’ with John Travis. He was so funny and he has the most contagious laughter. He looked like Santa. I tuned in for the latest Brit hits, so that I’m updated on who has reached the No.1 chart position. Sometimes, I tuned in to the John Peel Show too. I remembered when he announced that Nik Kershaw’s ‘Wide Boy’ hit the Top 40 charts, I yelled out a chant. I had been rooting for that song to be out as a single for the longest time then. I used all those chart toppers info to anticipate the upcoming performances for the next month’s Top of the Pops, which I rent from the video shop in town every month.

Back to the present, I now listen to only 2 radio stations – RedFM and FlyFM.


My favourite morning DJs used to be Tim Ho and Shareena on the Morning Breakfast Show. Initially I thought Tim was a bit too verbose of an Ah Beng for my fancy but like a intractable parasite, he grows on you.

His phone pranks were original. Like when he called an ministry personnel on an alleged UFO sighting on his backyard.

Then there was once when he got his coarse-voice “wifey” calling a vocal teacher hoping to sound like Mariah Carey. Luckily the teacher was very patience. At one point the wife accidentally coughed, which nearly revealed her real gender. The wifey was actually an Indian man!

Then there was the 2-day drama between his hairy “wife” and the staff of a hair removal salon. There was once he called a contest winner and said she won a live cow; which was spontaneous and hilarious.

Sometimes Tim can be funny even without trying. Once he read the morning news of a 7-year old student who got hit by a truck. Thereafter he told the traffic girl, Dom of the news. Being vacuum-filled, she said, “Oh, I hope he is okay.” Silence. After which he replied, “Hello. I said he was hit by a truck la. Of course he didn’t make it la.”

But what really makes him stick out like a sore thumb was the very fact that he has a great taste in music. Very alternative, rock and part-80s. His choices of songs suit me well. Recognise the song “Bad Day” by Daniel Powter, which is now being used as the swan song of booted American Idols this season? That used to be one of Tim’s favourite song. How do I know, you ask? Coz he played it every day for nearly a month la!

Shareena, the partner is equally funny as well. Though she talks a lot, she makes lots of sense. Together, they exude the perfect chemistry with their comments, teasings and pleasantries.

Anyway all that came to an end on the fateful 13 March 2006 when they were replaced by Beauty and The Beast – Nell Ng and David Chew. Honestly, that’s the biggest mistake EVER. If you ask me, I think the show should be called Bodoh and Basi. Bodoh because they say the stupidest things you won’t even wanna hear from a pubescent baboon, lest from 2 so-called “celebs”. Basi because their attempt to tell jokes fall flat all the time and like Janet Ambrose, only they found themselves funny; such action in Malay you would call that lawak basi [stale jokes], which is a degree below lawak lima sen [5 sen jokes]. And they both clamour for attention by trying to be the one to spew more nonsense - an obvious case of LOA [Lack of Attention]. Obviously, they bring the word “irritating” to greater heights.

This is obviously the biggest mistake made by the RedFM management.

Another mistake would be to let Jeevan go. And with that, FlyFM gained. But I will talk about that later.

Anyway, all is not lost. Shareena now hosts the Coffee Shop at 1 – 4 pm every week day, where she plays song requests. And Tim joins Terry on the Evening Show at 4 – 8 pm weekdays and also a Rock Show on Sunday nights.

On the Evening Show, he has started the “Wednesday Acoustics” from 6.15pm - 6.45pm yesterday. On this half-hour session, he will have singer-songwriter guests play live acoustics on air. Personally, I think this is quite brilliant.

Do you know that Tim has written 2 songs? One was about a stupid motorcyclist and the other a jiwang love song. He has performed both songs on Pete Teo’s Songwriter’s Round. The singing bit can pass la. To cari makan, errr that I’m not too sure. Heh.


You cannot imagine my excitement when I heard of Fly Guy’s comeback to the airwaves. He remained my favourite local DJ of all. In fact, I had been a fan since he started in THR (Time Highway Radio) when he partnered with Gerard. They have such chemistry together, it was belly jolly. I still remember the satire they did on Lat’s infamous Hindi heroin with leg stuck on railway line with an on-coming train heading her way and along came the toddy-belching tummy. That was back in 1994 and I can still remember it like I just heard it yesterday.

When Fly left THR to pioneer HitzFM, he was joined by Lil Kev. Though they were an instant hit and ruled the airwaves, I personally thought the chemistry between them was somewhat lukewarm in comparison to him and Gerard. And then they left suddenly, only to be replaced by Jason Lo. Though I liked him as a singer (I loved “Evening News” and even the latest “Operator, The Line Is Dead”) he really sucked big time as a DJ and as a TV Host. I mean, Latte@8 was an insult to anyone’s intelligence. But I digressed.

Back to Fly, I must say that I really loved what he’s doing now on FlyFM. I love the gargantuan superlicious chemistry he’s sharing with Natalie. They are rocking the airwaves right now. They are original, they are quirky, they are quick witted and they are funny. I would rate them 15 out of 10.

Their daily “Who Dis Who Dat” aka “The Answer Is Always C” is just brilliant. On a personal level, FlyFM is not as friendly as he is on the airwaves, but who cares! He rocks the airwaves and that’s all that matters.

Personally, I find him extremely sexy. He’s such a brilliant funny geek, definitely a better looking Woody Allen.

Then there’s Jeevan. Gosh, he is so smooth. No, I am not referring to his head. I am talking about his suave sexy voice. I have heard a coupla men trying to explain their fascination with football and all failed miserably, almost driving you to tears, begging them to stop. But this man talks football in such an interesting manner, you just want him to go on, and on and on... But I am not too keen about his choice of songs though.

Other insignificants:

Ida from RedFM – She’s very sweet and nice and all. But may I suggest you stop those Sunday phone calls to your friends? They are not as exciting as you make them to be…

Rudy & JJ from HitzFM – They are the most insecure voices around. Why? Coz they are nothing but imitators. They wanna pick up from where Fly and Lil Kev left off and gosh, do they fail miserably. And their phone pranks pale in comparison to Tim’s. Even in person, they behaved like they are such big celebs. Please la.

And I wonder why this station still continue to call themselves “HitzFM” when they always play catch-up to other stations on playing the latest hits. Take “You’re Beautiful” by James Blunt for instant, Tim had started playing the song at least 2 months earlier. And only now do they want to start playing Damien Rice’s “The Blower’s Daughter” and advertise that on TV. Boo!

Richard & Shazmin from MixFM – They are beginning to sound passé, especially Richard with this Cina Ah Pek ala Phua Chu Kang is beginning to sound stale. But they are keeping strong. Good on you both!

Lastly, there’s one more DJ whom I want to talk about – Ika from MixFM. Would someone do me a favour; take a shotgun and shoot this radio hyena. Thank you.

April 06, 2006 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 10:19 am