Monthly Archives: March 2009

The Most Awesome Lady GaGa Fan Video!

One of the more original fan-made videos ever, I present to you : 






Not Fully

I think my immune system is turning against me.

I have developed an ulcer, a cold sore, rashes and achy joints since last week. I believe it’s the flu coming down hard and heavy on me, but thank Bikram Yoga, it hasn’t turned into full-blown runny nose achy and blibbering mess Mei.


“You’re Very Young”

Imagine you’re at an interview.


And all they kept harping on about was how young you are!

A : Wah but you are so young.

B : Means you graduated young.

A : How long have you been working?





For fuck’s sake, my portfolio and work is more important than my age and what I studied. 


And in other news, the 12-year old boy I was talking about a few posts earlier isn’t the father of Maisie!





And poor boy, he really was looking forward to taking care of the baby.




I don’t know what I’m so stressed about. Maybe on April 6th my whole body will erupt in hives.


Damn you cold sore and ulcer. 



“Eating Chocolate Is UnGodly”

This is some seriously funny material from Sacha Baron Cohen, the mastermind behind Ali G and Borat. 


Sometimes I think God made life funny because life’s not meant to be taken seriously. 




Watch it and weep. And go watch his movie!



They Have the Money?

To hire someone who’ll cost double?

But not up my pay? That’s silly, really.
Oh well, a sabbatical before my stint should prove interesting.


Red Alert

For as long as I have been practicing Bikram Yoga, I’ve always tried to practice on FLOW days. In case you’re ignorant or I’m being too polite [HAR HAR!], I’m talking about practicing Bikram Yoga when I’m having my period / menstruating / getting rid of that unused uteral layer which means that I’m not a mother yet again. YAY!

I know there are some Yoginis who won’t practice [Bikram, or any other type of Yoga] at all during menstruation on the basis that it’s bad. Well, Bikram Yoga has no inverted postures [scary headstands, or any other posture where your uterus will be up above your head], it’s safe to practice I reckon, plus it helps get rid of cramps.

On a slight diversion, I used to practice wearing pads but since it’s so cumbersome and unhygenic [really, would you want sweat and blood collecting on your pad in a humid room and spreading the smell and love to other people, especially those with a keen sense of smell such as myself?], I have taken to wearing tampons. Yes, I used to hate wearing them with a vengence but I now am a convert of tampons after learning how to insert it properly. If you must really know, I just did not push it up high enough, which resulted in me walking around in a stilted manner like I have a giant Italian salami tucked between my legs.

So Saturday I went for an evening class with Jun. Yes, I managed to drag the boy to another class [I bribed him, really]. BEARING in mind that Saturday was the Second Day of Bleed. Oh well, I thought, since the flow ain’t that heavy, I’ll just use a MINI tampon!

It was during the end of the standing series that I noticed my tampon string was hanging out of my shorts. Hmm, that’s odd, I thought. It’s NEVER happened to me before! Then came Locust Pose [Salabhasana], that I felt a dreaded plop. I looked down onto my white towel [we all have to line our yoga mats with towels for hygiene and safety reasons].

It had a red stain on it. ARGH!

Fuck me sideways, my MINI tampon was not absorbant enough and I’ve leaked onto my towel! SHITTY SHITTY FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. Screw what they said about Yoga being mentally calming and shit like that, THIS IS A FUCKING EMERGENCY!

After the second set, I grabbed my towel and waltzed out of the room. For the very first time in 1 year, Mei Ng aka Crazy Yoga Chick had to make a swift exit out of the hot room. WHAT BLASPHEMY. It’d be akin to me telling you “No, Michael Jackson was really born a white dude”.

Making my exit as quietly as possible [I actually tripped over a water bottle on the way out, heh], I slammed the door shut behind me before realising : FUCK, I’ve left my locker key on the mat. SHITTY SHITTY FUCK FUCK SHIT. I was then left lounging outside the room for the next 15 minutes [once you get out, you can’t get back in. It’s rude and it disturbs the class energy].

Needless to say, when everyone came out of class and asked me “What happened? Did you puke?” [Er, I haven’t actually had the privilege to hurl out the contents of my stomach toxins], I had 2 options :

1. Tell everyone yes, I went to hurl because I had 6 pints of Guinness and half a bottle of whine wine last night


2. Tell everyone the truth : My tampon leaked and I bled onto my white towel.

Naturally, I chose option 2. Hey, I don’t want to be remembered as Mei, Crazy Drunk Hungover Yogini.

And the night before, I got my period just 3 minutes before class started. BRILLIANT.

How’d I know? Disgusting story, really.

With my keen sense of smell, I detected the faint smell of BLOOD hovering around my mat, so I went to the toilet and BEHOLD, MENSTRUAL BLOOD! Argh argh argh had to run downstairs and shove my emergency tampon up before I could take class. ARGH.

Yeah, that’s all the disgusting stories I have for now. Stay tuned for the next installment.


p.s : I wonder if Jun will come back for a 3rd class…

Yellow Cab Pizza Company contact

Just a quick update [since I am ever so busy at work] :

Jalan Raja Abdullah : 03-2694 2003
Ampang Point : 03-4251 2003
USJ : 03- 8023 3050

Call for delivery.
Delivery to limited areas.
Last order is at 11.45pm



“Yellow, are you STUPID?”

It’s HERE! It’s FINALLY HERE! Yay for Yellow Cab Pizza, it’s finally here in Malaysia!


Had my first taste of this thin-crust-yummy delight in Boracay. Oh I absolutely LOVED IT! Yeah and maybe because I was ravenous that time. And they’ve opened a branch behind my gym! Oh so delicious treats right after a 90-minute session of Bikram Yoga. On another note, I burn around 600-900 calories per class, so this should be interesting to see if I gain any weight 😛


Since I don’t have the contact number for the Taipan outlet, I decided to call the KL outlet [after much googling involved]. And I must say, idiots run amok in Yellow Cab Pizza. Here goes my conversation : 


M* : Hi, can what time is the last order for the Taipan branch?

Idiot #1 : Tai..pan… branch?

M* : Yes, Taipan branch. 

Idiot #1 : Tai..pan… branch?

M* : YES, Tai. Pan. Branch.

Idiot #1 : Tai..pan… branch?

If you seriously haven’t lost your temper by now, I will buy you some Buffalo Wings.


Idiot #1 : Hang on lemme get my manager ahhh.

In the background I hear the words “Taipan. Branch. Time. Number”. Sigh.

Idiot #2 : Hello, yes?

M* : Hi, what’s the number for the Taipan branch? Because at this point of time, I am seriously sick and tired of talking to idiots in KL

Idiot #2 : Oh, what’s up?

M* : I would like to know what time is the last order for the Taipan.

Idiot #2 : Why don’t you call that outlet, maam?

Deep breathe



Idiot #2 : Okay, sorry about that maam. But usually last order is at 11.45pm.

M* : … THANK YOU. *slam



Oh God the IDIOTS I have to face in KL. A colleague suggested I speak to them in Malay, since they’re Malay [or at least, sounded Malay]. 


Well I won’t, so fuck off. You know why? This is the service industry. Y’all who want to be in this industry need to speak ENGLISH, especially so as this is a PIZZA outlet not a nasi kandar outfit. PLUS, speaking Malay when they sound Malay? That’s discrimination as well! 


That pizza I’m having tonight better be good. This will be a good meal before my detox on Saturday and Sunday.




“Let It Go”

During Bikram Yoga practice, we are constantly told not to fight the emotions that come during class. As Sean would like to say : 

“All the times you feel angry at work, you can’t tell that person off, you just keep it inisde? Well here’s your chance to let it all go. Don’t fight it, don’t reach for the towel, just let it go, laugh or cry”.


I surpressed a giggle, because at work, I’m not known to “keep it inside”. Creative head pissing me off? I tell him to fuck off. Can’t take leave to fix my car? I throw a bitch fit. Getting called even though I was on leave? I throw another bitch fit when I get back.  Get blamed for not finishing my work even though I was on leave? I call him a fucking asshole and storm back to my place.


So it surprised me really when in class the other day I felt a slight tingly sensation on my chest, like butterflies in Pandora’s box trying to escape. I just breathed into it, and melted back into the ground. Suddenly it all came clear to me : 


I forgive you for being such a crap manager, forgive you for calling my work crap, and I forgive you for not recognising or acknowledging my talent. Because I can, and will, do better.


I smiled at the ceiling, just in time for Sean to say “Flex your toes toward your face, arms up, cross your thumbs, sit up. And it’s time for Rabbit”.


Finally, I forgive. A little too late, but never too late.