Choir, lalala

Looming ahead in the week: field trips, a Homes (cell group) outing (perhaps?), A PHD PROPOSAL AIYO SHY LA, a choir audition.

Wow, it's midweek and there's still so much coming. Looks like it's gonna be "Jesus Loves Me" for the audition on Thursday, may the chords hold strong and not falter when they're called for. haha.

Good night world!

My Faithful Tmo...

"One, twenty one guys..."

Tmo, my faithful Wira who has loyally served me (and many other fortunate backsides) for more than 4 years have finally come to meet a major accident. The gourmet dish included a tasty grey Wira sandwich made with lorry and Kembara flavoured bread, topped off with a runaway van. Diagram ahead.

Note the big black curb. Cars were trying to turn out to the left from the NPE bridge which I was on (Grey box with 'Tmo' markings). Tailing a big white van (marked red in diagram because he's guilty in my eyes) at about 60 km/h, the van picked up even more speed, did not break, and then swerved off quickly when a lorry (aqua) and another car ahead jammed their brakes. That left my poor Tmo to dive head on into the lorry (which suffered little if any damage) followed by a butt jab by Karyn's champagne Kembara behind me. Red arrows denote collisions.

"Open mouth, gaping butt"

Such is the fate my faithful servant, Tmo..

We shifted our cars to the bus stop further ahead after calming down a traumatized Karyn, who also twisted her neck and wrist (Sorry!). I missed the number of the van, no biggie, he would've been free of guilt anyway. After that, it was the seemingly long wait for Karyn's family to come get her while I accompanied her - my car battery was leaking, so I was getting a bit nervous. During this time also also came the opportunist EON workshop people who tried to convince me to tow my car "free of charge, even printed in black and white for you! We'll only keep your car until you decide to pay up the exorbitant repair quotations that we'll no doubt give you when your car's stuck in our workshop, so that you'll have no choice but to pay to get your car back!". That fella was quite insistent and annoying but I brushed him off politely. Too bad I totally forgot about the booklet with my insurance panel workshop numbers in my car, dumbass Jo Kien.

Word of Advice: If you crash and can't move, call your insurance panel workshop to tow your car. No random friendly stranger towing service help, they'll strip your wallet naked, and if that ain't enough to pay, they'll probably strip you next. When in doubt, call dad. hahaha

When they finally came and I drove back home, it was a scary affair that no doubt Jesus helped me make through, haha. Going up bridges worked my car and my radiator fan wasn't working, I could see my car engine's temperature meter going a little too high for comfort - like a bar away from the 'danger' zone. I started praying and calling out to God and He came through for me when the aircon just suddenly turned cold when I finished my prayer - the radiator fan was working again! Then I saw the engine temperature meter beginning to show some cooling. Praise God!

That wasn't the end. When my battery leaked even further, my engine heated up again to the brink of danger. That's when I began to off my engine everytime I go downhill and just steer my car at Neutral gear. When the car's almost out of rolling power (hehe), I'll turn on my engine again. It went on like that (thank LDP for the flyovers) till I reached KJ station and my engine was dangerously hot. Praise songs help. Anyway, I stopped at the bus stop and waited for my engine to cool down for about half an hour before driving again, rolling back to the bus stop across Atria, near my house, where I was ambushed by the owner of the workshop (City Hundred, Sg. Kayu Ara; and City Alignment, Damansara Jaya) who sold me a pair of 'brand new' tyres before, offering me towing services akin to the EON fella before.

Like, hell no? Think I'll walk into your slaughter house again? This guy's shops are actually under the insurance panel workshop group, and are also the nearest and most convenient ones as well, but like my grandpa said "Kena lottery also don't send to them!". Hahah. So we employed the services of a certain Soon Fatt Heng workshop in Jalan Kilang instead; won't know if they're good yet, but the workshop's huge and it looks decent.

Anyway, long story cut short, no one got hurt and I'm just so glad. Thank you Jesus! Praise the Lord! Now, when my mom called me that afternoon I got home, she was having lunch with a friend of hers who does some chinese alternative medicine stuff; which includes some hardcore (no, not the porno kind) massage services and he offered to 'take a look at my chest'. So when momma returned with him and told me, I thought he wanted to look at my 'cheh' ('cheh' in Cantonese means car, but the 's' in the end got me wondering a bit). Anyway, he asked me if I was tugged back by my seatbelt during the crash, and I said "very slightly, didn't hurt" and that was where I committed my life to a path of pain.

"Your favourite bloggers topless and uncensored! Pay only RM10 a year to have full access to the uncensored pictures!"

I was 'massaged' with a flat stone object that was used to scrape my chest downwards (my ribs still hurt) and right side of my shoulder, basically the entire area where the seatbelt would impact you when it holds you back. I felt like my lungs were gonna be scraped out. And when he was scraping my shoulder area, I had to tell him "man dit, man dit, jeok foh la" (slower, slower, I'm gonna catch fire) because he was doin it so hard and fast. He used his knuckles to knuckle my chest and really, I had to close my eyes and think how Jesus suffered to be willing to go through that pain. Ouch.

Really, the accident didn't hurt me. The treatment did. hahaha, but guess it's good in the long run; apparently those seatbelt tugs can leave you with long term injuries that will bug you when you grow older. Oh well. I'm a shy guy, no uncensored photos for you.

Bloom or Gloom Looms

Come on boy, finish this proposal before the uni semester starts and you be overloaded. At least 16 days till your doom, JK. Gloom and Doom, or Boom and Bloom! Ngaoooom!

"Crazy, crazy, crazy for you, baby"

I (always) have a bunch of Crazy friends...

Me: Okay, karaoke finally on this Thursday, 2-5 pm!

*5 pm comes*

Tony: Itchy la, let's go snooker.

We: OK

*7.30 pm, after a few (2.....) uneventful games*

We agreed that its "Makan time man, we ain't going anywhere in this jam"

About 9 pm, suddenly we realized...

Tony: Eh.. wanna go jamming ah?
Me: But.. hey wait, we have you (bassist + vocals), Sim Onn (drummer!) and myself and Jac! BOLEH!

10pm: A little while later of studio hunting, I was going back home to bring my pedal case (whewit) and Emma ma girl. And I even fetched Justin ma boy. hahah, tagged along and ended up as camera man; Justin now holds embarrassing videos of unpracticed, unrehearsed brutal spontaneous jamming videos of us. Oh man.

12am: Post Jamming Drink.

1.30am: Balique.

Teramat random spontan day

*yawn*

Good night Jesus (and world)