Posted in Random Stuff, Shorts

Dead Man On My Chest (Part I)

There was a dead man sitting on his chest.

Roughly two hours and eight cans of Bud Light ago, Jann passed out on his couch. Then, halfway through an unusually comforting dream of three well-endowed strippers giving him free lapdances in turn, he was rudely awakened by a sudden application of uneven pressure right below his sternum accompanied by a stench of rotting meat.

Initially, he thought that he was finally dying of a heart attack. He patiently waited for the white light to appear (or burning flames, whichever), but as the brunette with the lacy stockings continued gyrating in his face, he figured that it was probably the meatloaf in his underwear drawer reaching its final throes of freshness.

Slightly disappointed that his body had not yet given up, Jann reluctantly opened his eyes and –

‘WHAT THE – ‘

‘Shhhh….man, you’ll wake the baby next door.’

The thing sitting on his chest was probably once a man with roasted-coffee complexion, dreadlocks, and a hippie rainbow shirt that said ‘WAR IS A WHORE’. However, the creature that Jann saw had a hole in head where its right eyeball should have been, black fingernails, and gums that had shrunk back so far Jann could nearly see the roots of its teeth. Jann choked back a scream.

It gave him a lopsided smile. ‘Hey, man. I’m – ‘

At this point, Jann’s resolve broke and he opened his mouth to scream. Before the ‘agh’ could turn into an all-out ‘AAAAYEEEEEEEEEEEE’, the creature tightened its strangely sinewy legs around his chest and all Jann managed was a small ‘eeek’.

‘Can’t alert anyone, man,’ the creature said, shaking its head.

As its head turned from side to side, Jann felt small objects falling onto his week-old polo shirt. He gulped. Whatever it was that was falling onto his chest, Jann did not want to see it. He decided that the best course of action would be to close his eyes and pray that this thing would disappear soon. Unfortunately, he could not spare his olfactory nerves.

‘Yo, man. Sorry ’bout this whole sitting-on-chest thing, but I figured I’d better else you’d run.’

Nope, Jann thought, this is all a bad dream.

‘I’m Declan, by the way, but you can call me Dede. That’s what everyone calls me.’

Strippers. Three strippers. At a strip club.

‘Well, damn, man. I thought you’d be friendlier. You could at least look at someone when they’re talking.’

Jann felt something push up against his eyelids. He fought it, pressing his eyes shut. The force intensified.

Nope, nope, nope nope, absolutely – 

All of a sudden, the force tripled in magnitude and Jann felt his eyelids fly open.

He found  one cataract-afflicted eye staring at him. He whimpered.

‘What…what are you?’

The thing’s grin widened.

‘Who, man. Who. I’m your – ‘

He felt something cold and wet flop down onto his chest.

‘Unghh ugghhyy.’

The creature reached down and picked up a limp, grey thing. It examined it for a while, as if wondering how to fit it back in where it belonged. Then it nonchalantly put it into its mouth and pressed lightly downwards.

It smacked its lips and cleared its throat.

‘Sorry ’bout that. Been dead too long, man. Things start falling apart. What was I saying?’

Jann stared in horror.

‘You sure don’t talk much. Well,  I’m your guardian angel.’

 

 

 

 

 

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Posted in Learning Curve, Overseas, Random Stuff

Nikagetsu

I’ve been itching to write this for weeks. I’m just about done with my Calculus homework, so I’ll reward myself with a little time off – just me and you, blog.

Things have been gradually getting better. I sometimes forget that I’m in a different country entirely. The temperature’s been dropping steadily, and today it hit an all-time low of 6 degrees Celcius. But when I told my friend it was six degrees out she turned and stared at me with a look that said “Whaaaaaaaaaat?”

Then I recalled that Americans use Fahrenheit. Ah, well.

I am also developing a strange fetish for Malaysian smells and sounds. Just a couple of days ago I found myself watching a short documentary on Penang culture because I wanted to listen to all the Hokkien sounds. On Tuesday, I stopped for a moment in Armory on the way to class to breathe in a scent that smelled like Malaysian fancy Chinese restaurant. Then last weekend, I nearly cheered when Anees opened up a bottle of sambal petai. We had makeshift nasi lemak for breakfast that morning.

I miss a lot of things back home. I miss getting stressed out driving in Taipan. I miss grocery and underwear shopping in Giant. I miss being able to freely use lah and mah and BAPAK ENGKAU. I miss having to get down from the car to order char siew-siew bak rice at Mei Sek. I miss being able to play the piano badly – because at home there’s no one to judge me. I miss my maroon blanket that my grandma gave me. I miss going to my Amah’s house at 6.30am in the morning. I miss picking my cousins and brother up from school. I miss being able to take cultural celebrations for granted. I miss wearing my ATUSA lanyard around my neck. I miss the blocked toilet and decaying pipes of Akasia. I miss…a lot of things.

But I am learning to love things here. I love bagels. I love how I can see the leaves slowly turn red. I love how the sun here makes the cold more bearable. I love my shinai and my kendogi and my hakama. I love bagels. I love cranberries with oats, pecans, and brown sugar. I love being able to switch between accents, and to accidentally slip back into Malaysian-aunty-mode. I love walking around PAR’s dining hall and coming up with the weirdest combinations of food. I love how the Illini Union is nice and quiet at 9am in the morning. I love hot, bitter coffee on chilly days. I love bumping into Malaysians because there’s nothing quite like hearing someone else use the same accent as you do.  Did I mention that I love bagels?

今日、米国で私の 2 番目の月を開始します.

Kyou, beikoku de watashi no nibanme no tsuki wo kaishi shimasu.

And I’m learning to love it.