Administration

After The Inquirer’s recent publishing on the awful truth about bloggers and HokkienLang’s departure from the blogging community, I began re-evaluating my existence as being one of them. That explained my absence for the past couple of days.

There are far too many bloggers out there in this large cyberworld, let alone the Malaysian blogging community at PetalingStreet.org. Some have even gained celebrity-blogger status like Kenny (of kennysia.com), Claire (of minishorts.net), Kimberly (of kimberlycun.com) and lately, my favorite Kurt’s; and we have to admit that the lot has indeed a great talent for writing whilst preserving their entertaining bits. Of course then we have those who blog with their daily unique freak shows by killing their readers with details of their boring lifes, bundled with mass dosages of word-of-the-day profanities and their uncontrollable urges of using …’s. Unfortunately a common trait among Malaysians/Singaporeans writers.

Why then, did I decide to take on the role of just-another Malaysian blogger?

My role as a software developer has logically moulded my brain. I speak .NET and Java languages daily with my team members and design UML-diagrams to my superiors and clients. Almost flawlessly. English, to me, has since developed into second-nature. Computer languages would sometimes paralyze my English capabilities to a shocking disaster, that my Dad felt his strict-English brought up was a complete failure. Hence, my gentle introduction to blogging by the sweet Gialicious. She then further introduced me to great reads like Karen (of karencheng.com.au) and our Malaysian-made Kenny. These great writers later inspired me to begin blogging, in my attempt to untap, if any, hidden creative linguistics inside me.

Being the only offspring in my family, my shameful thirst for attention has gotten the best of me. I still remember feeling left out during the initial days of writing, often being disappointed by the almost zero number of people visiting my website. Then some dude noticed my discontentment and tried delighting me with his frequent spaming on my Chatterbox and lovingly brought his mates over to flock positive (yet unrelated) comments on my articles’ while leaving their business cards (containing web links) in case Russian chicks and money laundering were of my career interests. I often, and still am, envious of the huge number of comments left on Paul (of paultan.org)’s blog; and that the most popular hangout in the Malaysian blogosphere is Kenny’s blog. Look at his TagBox. It is like an mIRC server, serving the once insanely popular #mamak channel! I guess I just wanted the sense of belonging. Wanting to be heard at the spur of the moment. Maybe Master Yeap was right when he said, “an only child is a spoilt child” almost nine years ago.

Living in Brisbane has lavished my Malaysian background with the many different ethnic cultures of people I meet daily. It has enriched my mind to accepting new cultural beliefs and also greatly enlightened me on life, as a whole, does not evolve around traffic jams, indifferently rude behaviors and screaming bosses. I have continously controlled my urge to share my wishes of bringing in a little love and cheer to Malaysia through blogging, but I fear the misinterpretation that I might bring into the clan of zealous hooligans. Kenny and Suanie had my greatest respects when they openly blogged about the recent APs (Google cache) and ear-squat incidents respectively. In a country with dividing hatred for free speech, it is just plain difficult to know when you will be making headlines in newspapers, accused of the little things that do not matter. You know what, it is just difficult pleasing everyone. It just is.

As I browsed through my first postings, I was utterly disappointed with the direction my blog was heading towards: nowhere. Spiegel Online was probably right. Majority of the bloggers are lame; I am just one of them. My initial goal of this blog was to create an atmosphere for me, in writing, to reflect on my daily being and further strengthen myself to living tomorrow’s life’s journey, realizing I am not perfect. I think I need a change.

My blog needs innoculation.

My life needs innoculation.

Dear Darryl,

Before you ever think of getting jiggy in an air-conditioned room again, you might wanna reconsider putting on some clothes. Or at least use a blanket. Even when you’re touching yourself. Please.

Now where’s the women when you need them?

Look at you now, you bedridden twit. Your initial flu has now progressed to an acute sinusitis. Dr. Chin was glad you did not catch the bird flu. But he sure did not expect sinusitis either.

This is just another reason for you not to fall ill while you are back home in Malaysia:

Your constant need to blow your nose irritated the hell out of the man outside your bedroom. He could not wait to send you off to the Doc to make the sound all go away. He might still be mad each time he heard the sound of you blowing your nose after your trip to the Doc two days ago, judging his irritatingly loud sighs (with a couple of aiyahs chipped in) while he was outside on the couch reading his papers. I take pity on you as you cannot relieve your nose openly like you would usually, for fear he might go bonkus.

It seems like you have no choice but to do it very silently under the blanket while the bedroom’s door closed.

It is strange when pity and concern are no longer felt when you fall ill. It used to just piss your bosses off. The fact that you now feel it in your own family, it is ironic, isn’t it? Anyway, get well. Pronto!

Your loving self,
Darryl

Blogsome was down for almost all day. I had so many things in my head since last night. I guess it was just a good thing Blogsome was down; otherwise I would have went against my own blogging tagline: No Bitchin’. Guaranteed.

Things have been going on pretty messy around the house lately. Just praise the Lord for no broken bones and TVs being tossed around yet, though that would be an interesting sight to see. Because I would most likely be the one doing the breaking and tossing.

In the meantime, please get yourself the latest album, In The Wake Of Determination by Story Of The Year, who has brought you great classics like Sidewalks. Sleep was the most beautiful track in their most recent album which got me piecing out the broken pieces of everything together to give my night rest.

I’m also in search for a new Wordpress-hosting service provider. Any help you could give would be well appreciated.

Peace. I’m out.

2 nights ago, I:

• got topless;
• took off pants;
• switched the air-conditioner on HIGH;
• popped 2 Mentos into gob;
• blasted Brooke Valentine (feat. Fabulous, Yoko)’s Boogie Oogie Oogie HIGH on WinAMP;
• blog-surfed;
• slept.

In the afternoon yesterday, I:

• showed initial signs of cold;
• had a minor soar-throat.

Tonight, I:

• am sick.

The end.

Note To Self
Don’t chew MENTOS topless in an air-conditioned room.