paper street soap company
You take a 98-precent concentration of fuming nitric acid and add the acid to three times that amount of sulfuric acid.
You have nitroglycerin.
Seven minutes to detonation.
Mix the nitro with sawdust, and you have a nice plastic explosive. A lot of space monkeys mix their nitro with cotton and add Epsom salts as a sulfate. This works, too. Some monkeys, they use paraffin mixed with nitro. Paraffin has never, ever worked for me.
Four minutes.
Tyler and me at the edge of the roof, the gun in my mouth, I'm wondering how clean this gun is.
Three minutes.
Then somebody yells.
"Wait," and it's Marla coming towards us across the roof.
Marla's coming towards me, just because Tyler's gone. Poof. Tyler's my hallucination, not hers. Fast as a magic trick, Tyler's disappeared. And now I'm just one man holding a gun in my mouth.
"We followed you," Marla yells "All the people from the support group. You don't have to do this. Put the gun down."
Behind Marla, all the bowel cancers, the brain parasites, the melanoma people, the tuberculosis people are walking, limping, wheelchairing toward me.
They're saying, "Wait."
Their voices come to me on the cold wind, saying "Stop."
And, "We can help you."
"Let us help you."
Across the sky comes the whop, whop, whop of police helicopters.
I yell, go. Get out of here. This building is going to explode.
Marla yells, "We know."
This is like a total epiphany moment for me.
I'm not killing myself, I yell. I'm killing Tyler.
I am Joe's Hard Drive.
I remember everything.
"It's not love or anything," Marla shouts, "but I think I like you, too"
One minute.
Marla likes Tyler.
"No, I like you," Marla shouts. "I know the difference."
And nothing. Nothing explodes.
The barrel of the gun tucked in my surviving cheek, I say, Tyler, you mixed the nitro with paraffin, didn't you.
Paraffin never works.
I have to do this.
The police helicopters.
And I pulled the trigger.
**********************************************
See all these walls around me? I am just waiting for my Marla Singer to come in and save me, and you are not her. So stop trying.
On a lighter note of things, my mom's birthday is on March 11th. I just realized that her date of birth in numerics means she was born on 311 Day.
My mom is such a pothead.
posted by Kit
7:54 AM
thirteen tales from urban bohemia
Presently, there are three constants in my life:
1. Completing my thesis that could land me an employment with Shell Petroleum and make me so filthy rich that I could afford my own plasma screen TV. Mounted on my baseball bat.
2. Winning the All-Asians Debate Championship.
I love my blog. It affords me an absolute freedom of expression that I would not exercise under normal daily life circumstances as due to a perpetual heavy work stress condition that is only exacerbated by my perfectionist work ethics, I would normally be quite strung up and would not give two hoots about talking more than is necessary to get what I want out of people; let alone talking stupid about people, whom I also perceive to be stupid, in general.
But then again, I am the type who stereotype (that somehow sounded stupid). Anyone who doesn't fall under my purview of fun- that is loosely characterized by an overkilling affinity towards substance abuse-induced stupidity, they would naturally fall into the category reserved for those lame shit type of people who are either too chicken shit or egoistic to make a fool out of themselves i.e. uninteresting people whom I would not want to waste my precious time that would be more productively spent on chatting up 15 year old girls online on a Friday nite.
The irony being I am surrounded on a daily basis by these sorta queer folks everywhere. That is the sad truth about local universities. It gives me the creeps that everyone behaves like they have been in-bred for the past 7 generations. They look the same (wear glasses, go everywhere in their over-sized tees and unkempt pimply-teenage-hobo-werewolf appearance); everyone can't speak English to save their mother from being eaten alive by Hannibal Lecter (I know I come out with the most amazing analogies that makes little or no sense but nonetheless, very appropriate); still believes in the lie that their parents told them 15 years ago that if they keep up with their parrot-like behavior of scoring straight A's in university by regurgitation in the absence of comprehension- in the end of the day it would mean that they are educated and formal education would make them the richest person on earth (I am educated, not because of the system but despite of the system); and everyone wants to get married before they turn 25 for fear of some unknown fatal societal force of loneliness that is also known as being a virgin.
Bearing witness to good ole' stupidity of youth seeping out of every corner of life creeps me out. What ever the fuck happened to "Hey, why don't you live a'lil?" and by that I don't mean let's go play bowling or go for church group meetings, fucktards.
And the worse thing is, unlike what most may unfoundedly think- this phenomenon of boredom enshrined does not occur just among the Non-English speaking students. The general elitist mentality among us English speakers in Malaysia is that somehow our shit does not stink compared to the rest who are more comfortable conversing in their Chinese mother tongues. That somehow, there is always a make-believe dichotomy between us and them that makes everything that we do or have to be better than whatever that is associated with the Thems. I say fuck all these horseshit imaginary social demarcations that could only separate because someone is too dumb to see beyond lucid background and linguistic differences. English or Non-English speakers are all the fuckin' same lot of idiots. If you are boring, you are inevitably still an idiot regardless if you watch your Southparks in English or Cantonese although I must say, the Canto version is pretty- imaginative. Just because one listens to Pharell instead of Jay Chou does not prove jack shit other than the former could be a western-culture-hegemony worshipping whore who had forgotten his roots.
Eric Cartman is Chinese, you stupid motherfucker. According to MC Yan.
English or no English, they are all a fuckin' stupid and uninteresting lot. Everyone is too protected in our society. I have fuckin' 23 year old friends in my faculty who would not ride the public bus alone for fear of abduction, rape and all the bad things that bad people do to TWENTY-THREE-YEAR-OLDS whenever they are alone in a bus. Jesus Titty-fuckin' Christ and these are the same stupid bitches who wanna get married and populate our already-sorry ass world with their stupid kids. Thank god Down-syndrome kids are infertile.
Take a little chance, would you all? Just alil. I mean, C'mon. We only live once. Why can't I go thru one day when I don't have to figure fun and most-likely-to-be-stupid shit to do to entertain my sanity 'cos someone's already doing it for me? Why can't I go thru one day when someone just walks up to me and ask if I'd be interested in robbing a bank?
Kinda think of it- someone Did ask me that question previously. And he wasn't under influence. He wasn't joking either. In all honesty, if I didn't have to answer to anyone at that particular time i.e. my parents are dead- I would agree to rob a bank. Not for the money, but just for the sake of robbing a bank. No reason. Not that I need the money for a life-saving surgery or I am gonna give my loot to the poor, hell no- the poor's poor because they are too stupid to work their way out of poverty. We all know that Capitalism is a great incentive-based system. And according to history of everyone, Greed is a perfectly-acceptable incentive. The bottom line is- I would rob a bank just because I wanna. I mean how many of us could live to tell a story that could possibly make The Great Train Robbery look like amateur porno? I know who could- those dudes who got away laughing with that 50million bucks microchip heist. And I am cock-sure their folks are either dead, not talking to them or happily smoking an entire estate plantation of weed in some island off Bahamas.
Tyler Durden could not have said it better. Self improvement is masturbatory. Life has no meaning besides finding a meaning in making a meaning for others. We all live in a vicious cycle in a perpetual pursuit for happiness that either turn us to be really self-serving individuals or the rather morbidly self-centered ones who go around trying to make themselves feel better by justifying that they are not self-centered like the rest of the world, by attaining fulfilment out of making others happy, otherwise- they would not give a damn.
There is no meaning in life. We are all just circumstantial parts that keep a big machine moving; without some of which, the gears would still keep on moving possibly faster than before. So do not even pretend that anyone's even greater than anyone else.
Since nothing ever matters, why can't you all just live a'lil?
posted by Kit
8:33 AM
no love no glory, no hero in her skies
This house Supports Independence for Quebec
This house would criminalise the payment of Ransom
This house would Ban Government Funding of Religious Schools
This house Supports Accelerated Land Redistribution in South Africa
This house believes that the UK should abolish it's Nuclear Arsenal
This house would abolish all taxes on inherited wealth
This house would support regime change in Myanmar/Burma
This house would Ban Cosmetic Surgery
This house would grant citizenship in exchange for military service
This House believes all serious crimes should be tried by Jury
So Vancouver is all over.
We debated motions that somewhat fell short of my expectations for a World championship but were sufficiently mind-wrecking.
We did not do too badly nor did we fare any good either with a dissapointing ranking of #148 in a tournament with 350 teams, 700 geeks travelling across from the whole damn globe to the pacifist city of Vancouver just to debate each other in search of a World champion of geeks.
The crowning moment of glory was when we broke 8th for the English as Second Language category; a side-show competition for teams that just could not compete with intellectual powerhouses from Oxbridge universities, Ivy League and traditional Australian institutions e.g. Sydney, Monash. Our ESL 'achievement' technically translate to us being the #8th ranked debate team in all of Asia, Europe, Africa with Israel included somewhere in between.
Alas, we all know labels can be very deceiving.
Our somewhat dismal showing only inspired me to work harder towards ending my career as the best debater with the best debate team in Asia come this May.
It is possible. All dreams are possible. With collective effort and enough individual passion.
All of these debating stuff took the air out of me. We debated non-stop for 3 days in search of a World Champion and in between I smoked a pound of weed to unwind and keep my sanity in check. It took pretty commendable effort for a New Year's to be ushered in with me sitting down for 3 hours while the rest of the room partied like mofos. Marijuana is magical if you want to be disengaged from stupid drunken debating fools who try too hard to be cool. And Vancouver just so happened to be the Amsterdam of North America. Weed is decriminalize in that city, i.e. you can carry a certain amount for medicinal purposes and we all know, headaches, coughing and colds are all symptoms that need urgent medical attention.
Somehow, North America did not appeal to me like it once did sometime more than two years ago. Vancouver looked just like any other American cities that I had been to. I expected more of a New York but had to make do with a New Jersey-ish town instead. My indifference towards that city was evident in the amount of pictures I had the initiative to take over a period of 10 days; all in all 41 pictures in my digital camera. Maybe I have changed my travel behaviors- taking loads of pictures and wanting to see the all the tourist attractions just was not my cuppa anymore. I was pretty much contented with taking slow walks across the city, keeping a look out for everything and just feel the chill of winter. I cherished conversations with the locals and making stops at coffee joints for a cup of caramel machiato and time off to do some writing on my travel journal. As pretentious as that may sound, I find travelling that way to be much more fulfilling.
To hell with the tourist attractions. I want to feel the city and capture a glimpse of her spirit; of how it would feel to be part of it. I would not mind living in Vancouver for a coupla years. It is a beautiful city with a good amount of beautiful Asian women. Women and weed. What else could I ask for in life?
I guess I can make do with getting laid in Vancouver when I was there.
I told my team mate that Vancouver sucked 'cos I did not get laid- before she gave me a weird stare. I did not mention that it was by choice though. It was just not meant to be. I may be crazy or just plain ass weird, but I had passed on some drunken lays that just should not be passed on. She was easily the hottest Asian women in the entire competition. We met prior to Vancouver but had only spoken briefly a coupla days ago before both of us got really drunk at a room party and ended up in her hotel room because mine was inavailable due to a very inconvenient room mate.
Without indulging too much, I left.
The only time I took off was from her room. After we had both gotten half-naked.
Not the brightest thing I had done in my life and was nonetheless had to be reminded of it the next day when I bumped into my buddy who asked about my supposedly good time the nite before.
Without intending to hint at any possibility of being religious, homosexual or having paedophilic affinities, it was merely the same old plot rewritten all over. I just felt remorsely dirty and skanky. That's all.
Oh well.
posted by Kit
8:35 AM
