Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Look, A hot chick man

The following conversation took place last week around college ground:

Kellaw(reading newspaper) : Hey S, did you read the news today? Everyday the frontage are full of cartoon jokes.

S(obviously not paying attention) : What? Hey look at that hot chick there.

Kellaw(looks) : Where?

S(points) : There! Such beautiful legs and perfect body.
(bear in mind that S is already attached)

Kellaw : Come on you already have a GF. Be content with what you have.

S : Hey we always need a back up just like in computer. Should make use of your knowledge.

Kellaw : Yeah right. (Looks at S's hot chick turning and starts to puke)

S : Hey what's happening?

Kellaw(points to S's hot chick) : There!

S(pukes together) : WTF!!!

Turns out that S's hot chick is a guy after all!

Kellaw(sinister smile) : Hot Chick huh? Back up plan huh, S?

I am sure S's feeling is like the movie below



Moral of the story? Never judge a book by it's cover. If you are content with what you have and appreciate that, these kind of shit wouldn't happen. This real life event is dedicated to the guy who told me once that searching for others is always ok because "You drive a proton and a Ferrari pass by, I am sure you will admire it right?". Wish you and your wife is happily married and having fun on your honeymoon now.

Updates 101

Assignments - All done and good news? A group with 3 members(my group) got a higher rating in presentation on overall work compared to a group with 6 final year students. Wuahahaha!!! Managed to finish up on things and presentation for the other assignment went well.

Mapsters competition - Those retards still haven't email anyone yet. I guess it's a hoax and they are not willing to part with that one little phone.

Internship - 5 job offers(AMD, Intel, Swisslog, Guscapi, Accenture) and 2 companies(AMD, Swisslog) are aggressively trying to get me in. I wonder why the lecturers have to restrict me when I have proven myself over and over again that I could be there doing my internship happily.

The pencil - I am still having it. Just too bad the kids can't have it back.

Exams - Coming soon next week so expect less updates from me.



Someone - I still miss someone so far apart now.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Proof that Kellaw is a big bully




Was going to college the other morning. It's just like any other morning but the past week had been exceptionally tired with all the final projects. Saw too kids playing around and something happened and the elder kid(around 5 years old I guess) tried to stab the other kid with a pencil which I grabbed his hand(it's a miracle feat, believe me! I am real tired then so to move that quick is already something impossible). How I bullied the kid? Take a guess. Ok! Ok! I didn't wack that kid till he is lying sprawled in a pool of blood. I took away the pencil. It's still with me just in case he decides to stab the other kid till kingdom come. Which parents in their right minds would let their kids run around with a pencil. Yes, you mar argue that it's good to start kids on writing and drawing at that age, but is that situation right? Letting them run around playing with a pencil? You guys might better let them have a real gun so they can practice to be the next olympic shooter.

I wonder what will happen if I had not stopped the kid(or should I better rephrase that as failed to do what I did). Kids doesn't know the consequences of their actions. Some may argue even adults are the same(point proven on the kids parents. Maybe it's a case of "bapa borek, anak rintik"monkey see, monkey do and mind my bahasa because I gave it back to my teachers long ago). Anyway I have an extra 2B pencil now which I plan to return it to the parents(reads "stab on their hands or god knows where it hurts most").

I went into class with that pencil and told my friend what happened. I said I wouldn't let my kids run around with a pencil that way. My lecturer who overheard the conversation asked me not to be so sure yet. Things might not happen that way. Maybe it does bear some truth there. Just the other day, I was in a discussion(reads arguement) with a friend on how the parents should teach their kids. This friend said he saw the mum slapped the son and when the son tries to get comfort from the dad, the kid got another session of screwing. My friend feels it's just wrong.

Let's get into our logical mind(bear in mind I am not a parent myself yet but it's debatable that I don't know how to teach the kids because I know what I wanted as a child) and get something clear about the situation and the consequences. Below are the scenarios of what could happen. You guys should continue with your imagination.

Scenario 1:
Mom : piak(sound of mum slapping son)
Dad : piak! "Serve you right! Who ask you naughty?"
Son : cries and run into his room getting angry for a while ( could be more rebellious if overdone or could be afraid and not repeat what he did)

(night : bed)
Mom to Dad : Thanks dear for supporting what I did to our son......(put some imagination here)

Scenario 2:
Mom : piak(sound of mum slapping son)
Son : runs to dad
Dad : Sayang ah. Don't naughty next time. Come daddy buy Ice cream for you. Don't cry ah.

(night : toilet)
Dad to himself : Haih. Why I so stupid side that small kid. See la now. Sleep in toilet liao tonight.
(night : bed)
Mum to herself : Wuahahaha! Whole bed to myself!!!
(night : outside toilet)
Son to dad : Daddy what are you doing in the bath tub with your pillow?
(night : inside toilet)
inside head : #$%^*&#%^$#$%^!!!!!

Thursday, November 13, 2008

The Wallet

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years. The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline--1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago. It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner.

It was a "Dear John" letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him. It was signed, Hannah. It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope. "Operator," I began, "this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?" She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, "Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give you the number." She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. "I have a party who will speak with you."

I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, "Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!" "Would you know where that family could be located now?" I asked. "I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago," the woman said. "Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter." She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living. I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home. This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old?

Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, "Yes, Hannah is staying with us. " Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. "Well," he said hesitatingly, "if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television." I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah. She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, "Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael." She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said softly, "I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor." "Yes," she continued. "Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often. And," she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, "tell him I still love him. You know," she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael..."

I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, "Was the old lady able to help you?" I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last name. But I think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet." I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, "Hey, wait a minute! That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. He's always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least three times." "Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked as my hand began to shake. "He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks." I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up. On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, "I think he's still in the dayroom. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man."

We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, "Oh, it is missing!" "This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?" I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, "Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward." "No, thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet." The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that letter?" "Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is." He suddenly grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me," he begged. "She's fine...just as pretty as when you knew her." I said softly. The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, "Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow." He grabbed my hand and said, "You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her. ". "Mr. Goldstein," I said, "Come with me."

We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her. "Hannah," she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. "Do you know this man?" She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, "Hannah, it's Michael. Do you remember me?" She gasped, "Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!" He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces. "See," I said. "See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will be." About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. "Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!" It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man. The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple. A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years.


*This story was written by someone but I have yet to find the author's name. Would be glad to add his name to give him back the credits for sharing this nice story.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Wednesday, 12th Nov 08

Finally the week had come. Here are the results of this post:-


A) If I win the Nokia phone - They haven't bloody mail me yet. Is it a hoax?

B) If my PT assignment worked which leads to C) - I still hoped it worked but it did work most of the time so I just hope "SHE" doesn't test it so vigorously that it crash the program.

C) If I will pass my PT partially or fail completely - High hopes to pass

D) If I can manage to get the WDA and SADI assignment done - WDA : certain things incomplete. SADI :Near completion. Hope I can finish after spending the night here without going home.

E) If I will get the internship in AMD - Still no call from them. I guess I should call them back instead. Sigh.

To make things worse, I miss someone very much now.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Thoughts...

NEVER EXPLAIN YOURSELF TO ANYONE...... .BECAUSE THE PERSON WHO LIKES YOU DOES NOT NEED IT.........AND THE PERSON WHO DISLIKES YOU WON'T BELIEVE IT

I guess the note above is self explanatory. I wouldn't need to explain anymore.

An update. I already have the answer to one of my after this week questions. For B and C, the answer is partial. It's working alright after sending 2 hours later than the dateline (10% gone if I am unlucky vs 0% if she is strict enough not to accept it) and then found out it's not working the way it's supposed to be after sending. Apparently the code crashed after the 4th time testing on the same thing. Shit happens! but when tested on another machine it's working fine. It's either I am too tired or god is playing tricks with my brains.

I also found out that I will have the answer to part E as soon as "early next week". As for part A, the game closes at 8a.m. in the morning of Monday. Hope I will get the email soon. And part D? Things doesn't look that promising as of today. So little time to do with yet so much things to settle. This is life. Else I shouldn't be in this field at all.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

After this week...

I am still busy so there will be no long updates till I am done with things.

After this week, I will know:-

A) If I win the Nokia phone

B) If my PT assignment worked which leads to C)

C) If I will pass my PT partially or fail completely

D) If I can manage to get the WDA and SADI assignment done

E) If I will get the internship in AMD

...
Sigh... So many uncertainties... So little time... So much to do...
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