You don't have to keep your hands to yourself

This song always makes me smile with its easy honky tonk rhythm, bringing to mind a smoky Western bar with ladies in painted on jeans and big hair and wild make up line dancing to it with men in ten gallon hats. But the deeper message of the song is not that light hearted. Basically it was about a guy who wants a little lovin' without payin', if you catch my drift.

Now, the gents may think that the lady was being a little hard on him, insisting on a wedding ring before engaging in intimacies. But many men don't appreciate that it is always the woman who is left holding the bag, or more likely, the baby. Many denigrate the pro choice team for being "baby killers" but how do you resolve the problem of unwanted pregnancies (whether within a marriage or without)? Women can lose their jobs for getting pregnant. Often they have little to no support to help them either financially, materially or emotionally to have children, even worse for those who have no partner to help shoulder the burden.



I love how this song speaks about the hard choices a woman have to make, often without support because of a mistake or even rape.

For so long the discussion about unwanted pregnancy focuses on women; how they should be more modest, don't tempt men, keep their knees together, and not have sex with men who are not their husbands (like men only have sex with their wives, hah!) and so on and so forth. Because women are the one who will get pregnant, it seems like the onus is only on them to make sure it doesn't happen.

But may I point out, gentlemen, that it takes two to tango?

Why not make it easy on the lady (or ladies, if you fancy yourself a player) in your life and partake on the amazing discovery by Prof. Sujoy K Guha and get yourself RISUG? The procedure doesn't take any longer than your visit to the dentist and you only have to get it once every ten years. Think of how much you can save on condoms! Besides which, condoms do have a failure rate of up to fifteen percent and some men are allergic to latex (you DO NOT WANT rashes on your precious dangly bits or the need to carry EpiPen to ensure the post-coital panting isn't anaphylactic reaction).

So take responsibility for your sexuality, gentlemen and do the right thing! Do it even if your DNA is super amazing and demands propagation! Unless, of course, you wanna be pickin' up the child support cheque. In which case, by all means go forth and multiply.

Note: If you are in the habit of bed hopping, then you need to use condoms (latex or polyurethane) to ensure that the bodily fluids you share ain't gonna carry nasty critters to your partners (or you acquiring said nasty critters). It's kinda awkward having to ring up a bed partner three weeks later to inform her that she may need to pay a visit to the friendly neighbourhood STD physician, you know?

Ear candy

Ah ... delicious listening to soothe stress hormones ...

Your tears are all the pay I'll ever need

Sometimes, this is my theme song.



It is the perfect soundtrack to your monster truck - firebomb daydream while you are crawling along to your destination, fantasising about firebombing everyone in front of you and driving your super duper heavy duty monster truck over the smoking wreckage of the other vehicles.

*attempts to zen while stuck in the morning/evening jam*

Self-pimpage

A horrifyingly belated commentary to Whitney Houston's passing can be found here.

Better late than never, right, Pidah?

When you're in prison ...

Let's hope none of us ever had to put on the orange jumpsuit, yeah? Or whatever the local equivalent is.

However, exceptions can be made when your cellmates are this pretty. Maybe.

But what is the likelihood of that? Better to stay on the right side of the law, neh?

Forever yellow skies

I am sure everybody have fond memories of the music of their teenage years. Mine is pretty checkered because I'm a bit of a hipster when it comes to music, even when I was a mega spotty teen. I loathed most of the hit songs when I was 16 but it got better the year I turned 17 when rock music became cool again  thanks to grunge and the second wave of British invasion made its appearance.

When I heard that the Cranberries was going to perform in Kuala Lumpur for their Asia tour, I was totally psyched. The band's albums pretty much provided the soundtrack to various highlights in my life. I fell in love with them thanks to Linger, but the anthemic Zombie was the one that propelled them into rock and roll hall of fame leagues.


The stadium pretty much was shaken to its foundation when this was on.



I think this cements them as a pretty awesome stadium class rock band, don't you think?

Dolores sounds just as good live as she does in the albums; she's not much for audience interaction, but she delighted us all with her trademark hip gyrate, head banging and back-and-forth stiff armed march which was so cute. The rest of the band was equally indefatigable. The fangirls screamed when Fergal Lawler took off his sweat-soaked t-shirt; no surprise since the man is built like a brick shit house. Not bad for a forty-plus dude, eh? I guess bashing the drums do help a man develop his guns (mmm...).

I had teary moments during the first 30 minutes of the concert; it was just unbelievably amazing to be with so many other fans who were also hollering along to the same songs. And just like the Carpenter's song; it truly was  Yesterday Once More.

Psych yourself up!

Eco or echo living?

On Saturday night, everyone was eager to participate in the Earth Hour and plunged themselves into darkness for sixty minutes. Which cannot be too dark what with streetlights and billboards etc. Yes, I am assuming you live in a city or at least the suburbs. It is doubtful anyone who lives in the middle of the jungle bothers very much about Earth Hour.

 See? Not very dark at all.

(Under cut for lengthy rants and a scary video)

Monday ... Monday ...

Honours or honest degree?

I was amazed when I read this. There are students out there who could afford to fork out two grand for someone else to write their thesis? The mind boggles. My experience of student life (undergrad and postgrad) is one of skimping because even if you get a scholarship, it doesn't necessarily cover all your expenses (my uni is located in Kuala Lumpur).

Are we more morally bankrupt than the people before us? Are the changing landscape of professional development and personal growth pushing us to become more dishonest? Are we just lazier than before?

Who knows. It could be any and all or even none of the above. All I know is that being a teacher at tertiary level just got tougher. I mean, you can identify that the student was cheating, but proving it is something else altogether. So you may have to grit your teeth and just pass the kid anyway even though you know well that he/she couldn't use prepositions properly to even save her/his life. The kid whom you know worked hard, built his/her skill sets to write a darn good thesis got no more than the cheating one because you can't prove how the cheater cheated.

How depressing.