Humour

Now this is just darn hilarious.

I've managed to escape one particular activity that causes your life to flash before your very eyes for all my life.

Until today.

I happily signed up for this outstation trip assignment and assured my superiors that my toes were perfectly healed and since there was no mountain climbing nor strenuous walking involved, I should be fine. My legs still do hurt when I climb up and down the stairs but that shouldn't deter me from observing, interacting with people I meet and taking note of my travel experiences.

What I didn't realise was, by signing up, I also agreed to participate in all the activities in the itinerary including the very much dreaded activity I mentioned in my first sentence .... PAINTBALL.

That is one word that strikes a chord of fear in my heart. An equally scary word to me would be bungee jumping. If bungee jumping to me is like wanting to commit suicide but not quite, then paintball is enlisting in the army to be in the thick of warfare but also, not quite there lar.

I don't like strategy games like Risk and such. Heck, I don't even like watching Rambo with his brawns and mindless shooting sprees. I never had a secret fantasy of joining the army or the SWAT team. And most of all, I don't like getting shot at and having paint splattered all over me.

In short, there is nothing in paintball that I like. So I never bothered.

There are times in life when you think you detest something until you try it and discover that it's not as bad as you think it was. As I don my camouflage shirt, vest and face mask and went into the fighting arena with my team members, I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about paintball. And I would discover that it would be somewhat enjoyable or bearable at the very least.

I hoped in vain.

The duration of suffering was short - a mere 5 minutes per game due to the large crowd that we had. Or even lesser if a team manages to seize the opponent team's flag - a bright orange T-shirt draped languidly on a tree in this case.

I walked into the fighting field holding the heavy gun called the 'Marker' with sandaled feet that felt like jello. I felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter house.

"10 seconds count!" shouts the marshal.

And then the 10 seconds were up and we were running on the forest grounds made slippery by heavy rainfall earlier that morning. Our guns shot at the 'enemy' rampantly. I hid behind a big barrier and just shot at anyone I saw from the opposing team. I must have shot 20 to 30 pellets and caused at least 1 casualty when suddenly I felt something hit my cheek and a splash of bright pink paint stained my left ear and cheek. My mouth tasted the metallic taste of paint. Yucks.

I raised my hand to indicate that I was dead and walked over to the side.

The marshal was barking orders at me for safety reasons, "Sheath your gun! Don't open your face mask until the game is over and you are out of the arena!"

It was good that he constantly shouted these reminders as an unlocked gun can cause a lot of damage to someone who had no face mask to protect their eyes and face. And it's not uncommon to want to rip that darn face mask off your face - it's that uncomfortable! It fogs up after a while and when you can't see a thing in front of you, it freaks you out even more being out there in the battle field. There is a way to prevent fogging by breathing in through the nose and exhaling through your mouth. But that takes practice. Something I don't plan on doing after this.

Soon the game was over when our enemy managed to grab our flag and I staggered out to freedom, took off my face mask and took in big gulps of fresh air.

"Can I skip the next two games? I don't want to risk injuring my toes as I didn't bring proper sport shoes," I told the person in charge. Which was all very true. I just didn't add that paintball just plain freaked me out.

She took one look at my scabby toes and quickly agreed. Another girl tried her luck but since her toes were in perfect condition and she had no other injuries to boast of, she didn't get let off the hook.

So yeah, I was saved by my toes - literally.

Enjoy the pics but do not be deceived by my smiley face. They were taken before the game began when I was still harboring hope that I'd find paintball palatable.


My Sungai Tengi team


While they were strategising, I was photo shooting


Me in camouflage and sandals!


The torture equipment


Photo credits: My pic taken by Alex

As a sign that he's thinking of me, bigbro Josh sent me this for my Coolcat sightings collection.

Thanks, man. Made my day!

Any of you who want to show me your love, you know what to do

In reverence to the Malaysian Mega Sale, my love for gadget shopping and parody. Sung to the tune of My Fair Lady's I Could Have Danced All Night.

I want to shop all night
I want to spend all night
And live to shop some more
I want to spread my wings
And buy a thousand things
I never bought before

I never know
What makes it so exciting
When all at once
My eyes took sight

That P1i is sleek and black
It’ll look good with my laptop bag
I want to shop, shop, shop
All night!

More and more people I know and love are considering migrating to Aussieland. Why? Why? Why?

No other place to go meh?

I've already 'lost' many a good friend to that mammoth land. Call me The Immovable Rock of Gibraltar but I don't see why one should uproot themselves from all that they know and love to replant themselves in another country. Unless of course they are specifically told by God to do so. Like Jonah who tried to run the opposite way but was swallowed and subsequently vomited to the land God wanted him to go. But that's besides the point.

The point is that Aussie is one big wolfish land that has been pulling the people I love away from me.

So when I came across this gem of a page today, I couldn't help giggling with evil glee. Folks, presenting to you the very funny Microsoft Windaz 2007.