As Suanie Sees It

I’ve always thought that shaking hands when you meet someone for the first time is the polite thing to do. Of course, there are situations when you either don’t do it, or you really don’t feel like doing it. One would be if the other person has obvious hygiene issues and you wouldn’t touch him or her even with a ten-foot pole. Or you are in possession of an amazing, out-of-this-world pervert radar and you suspect that he or she would rape your hand; how it’s done, I have no idea so go ask someone else. Or you are in a country where public physical contact for something as innocent as a handshake between a man and a woman is frowned upon, or worse, might get you stoned to death. Maybe you should have hugged a cactus instead.

Anyway I thought it’s pretty much a non-issue when it comes to handshakes. Direct eye contact with a smile (even the slightest) on your face, firm grasp but not crushing, “hi, I’m Suanie, pleased to meet you” (formal) or “ohai!” (informal), two shakes or two and a half then let go. Like many people, I abhor the limp handshake. Makes me feel like I just touched a cold, dead fish. I don’t know about you, but I don’t like touching cold, dead fishy. I also don’t like it if someone I barely know for 5 seconds hold on to my hand for a long time, so please let go after 3 shakes. Or if you JUST returned from a trip to the toilet, it’s okay I don’t have to shake your hand! Wave at me, scream, shout, whatever — I don’t want to touch you.

But something happened some time back that made me think about handshaking. I was at an informal social event, and one dude joined our party. He went around shaking hands with everyone at the table, me included. When he reached out his hand to shake another girl’s hand, she extended her hand and allowed him to hold it up till the knuckles. Confused by my terrible explanation? Perhaps the two screenshots below, taken from the movie Sydney White (yes, I like Amanda Bynes, fuck off) will serve as a better guide:

Matt Long and Amanda Bynes shaking hands. This is the only way I know how to do it

Matt Long and Crystal Hunt shaking hands. This was how the girl did it

The guy looked pleasantly astonished and exclaimed, “Why, this is how a lady shakes hands!”

I never knew! Did you? Thoughts??

He called me Genius. I said don’t do that. He asked why. I replied that I am not comfortable with it. He made a sad face. I called him a cry baby. He made more sad faces. He said I’m CruPer and he’d be calling me that from now on. I asked him what that meant. He replied, cruelty personified. I felt a lot better

A couple of weeks ago, Joyce was down with something. Like I told her on Saturday, I felt bad that she was sick, but I was happy that she passed me her invite to the Glenmorangie dinner at Westin KL. I had a most enjoyable time — brought Lainie with me, met familiar faces at the dinner, had some nice whisky, a nice dinner and great conversation as well as random motivation to be a millionaire so I could afford to stay at the Westin KL Chairman’s Suite.

The Glenmorangie whsky range. Click on the photo above for a larger version

Actually it was an event that made me think, still. If I am not mistaken, they rented the suite for two nights. No doubt it was used for assorted sessions, but the fact that they allocated one dinner (that’s one evening/ night already) for 4 bloggers (that’s 8 people including an invite for their partners. So I guess that made Lainie my partner for that night ) was… generous? No matter who the invitees, I’m (always) slightly astonished that companies are willing to… I guess the word is converse, with those with blogs. Because honestly if it were up to me, I’d be smooching with noted pub and club owners

Guess I should shut up now before I shoot myself in the foot.

Upon reaching the venue, we spotted Kim Ong with her dad. I was surprised to learn that the Elaine who did the inviting was *the* Elaine I met 2 years ago at a bloggers’ meet. Now she’s all grown up and working already, heh. There were also Fireangel, Bob, Patrick and Min. Our host for the night (other than Jeff and Elaine) was Annabel Meikle, a lovely lady who is Glenmorangie’s whisky creator and sensory expert.

Food and alcohol for all, aye? Click on the photo above for a larger version

As Glenmorangie whisky’s distillation process is done by a staff of 16, they are known as ‘The Sixteen Men of Tain’. If you are a bit slow, no they are not the *same* 16 men through the years… Nick Lees from The Edmonton Journal thinks that it should now be ‘The Sixteen Men of Tain and A Woman’ to reflect Annabel Meikle’s contribution to the assorted whisky blend and taste as well as its branding.

Indeed Annabel was a most charming host — refined but not in the least uppity, classy but not snobbish, humourous and witty but not crude. You know, someone my mother had hoped that I’d be someday. Let’s get that disappointment out of the way, shall we?

Glenmorangie whisky for me! The Original, The Lasanta, The Quinta Ruban, The Nectar D’Or. Click on the photo above for a larger version

Notice the different whisky colours in the photo above? Well Annabel can tell you what they are just by a sniff or two, as well as what type of casks they were matured in, what they are associated with and how they remind you of certain stuff such as chocolate, cinnamon, mint or apples. Let her sniff a while more and she might even tell how its age. Very powerful nose, that one. I was most impressed because the result of my sniffing the whisky was painful nostrils and near tears in my eyes. I probably should not have stuck my nose that close to the liquid.

On the way home:

Lainie: So could you smell and distinguish all those different tastes and what not?
Me: No, I had painful nostrils and near tears in my eyes.
Lainie: You probably should not have stuck your nose that close to the liquid.

Dinner: Scallop & black cod, lemon & basil sorbet, balsamic glazed roast duck and hot toffee pudding with caramel raisin ice-cream and egg tarts. Click on the photo above for a larger version

Dinner was soon served, each course to be paired with the 4 different type of whisky in front of us. Like wine. The Original with 40% alcohol content (and matured in ex-Bourbon casks) was my favourite. If I could tell you how it felt going down my throat ala Annabel’s rich running commentary, I would; but I can’t so I won’t. The Lasanta with 46% alcohol content was matured in sherry casks was… spicy. The Quinta Ruban, matured in port casks was… even more spicy and my 2nd favourite. The Nectar D’Or, matured in Sauternes casks was the spiciest. I am rather useless at this, aren’t I? Good thing you can find out more about them at the Glenmorangie website.

Patrick brought up a few very good questions, such as how are they going to market the Glenmorangie whisky range in a country where most of us can’t properly pronounce ‘Carrefour’ (I made up the ‘Carrefour’ comparison but it was something like that) and whisky appreciation is defined by age and price. I think Patrick should go back to radio or something along the lines of

Me with Elaine, Lainie, Kim, Min, Patrick and Annabel. Click on the photo above for a larger version

Well, it was very fun and enjoyable. Good whisky, good food, great dinner companions. Thanks for having us

Following BBC News Magazine’s article on songs allegedly used by American interrogators to mentally torture Iraqi POWs, I thought I’d come up with a similar list of my own. It isn’t that difficult; just a matter of unlocking some parts of my brain to remember certain songs that would make me reach for a carving knife and decorate myself ala The Joker. I exaggerate of course, but ever so slightly.

Before all that, insert necessary spiel on how: this is my blog + my list + mine mine mine + if you don’t like it + if you disagree + if you violently object to my selection = I really don’t give that much of a shit. Go make up your own suicide-inducing song list.

But if you agree with my list, then I probably like you. A lot.

Having said all that, you will notice that I skipped out on the Simple Plans, Jonas Brothers, Hannah Montanas and Jessica Simpsons. The first two because I can’t stand ALL their songs anyway, the third because I am not a teenager, and the fourth because I respect good music.

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11. Don’t Worry, Be Happy - Bobby Mcferrin

Unless you are Jason Mraz or Monty Python, whistling in any form pisses me off. It makes me want to shove my hand down your throat and seize your larynx because you are not using it as the great almighty intended for it to be used. If you whistle around me, I probably hate it and my skin would crawl up inside me. But I am too polite to tell it to your face.

10. Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne

Hey hey, you you I don’t like your girlfriend
No way, no way I think you need a new one
Hey hey, you you I could be your girlfriend

Oh, you needed elaboration?

9. My Humps - Black Eyed Peas

I tried to give this song a second chance, seeing that I am generally okay with Black Eyed Peas’ tunes. Locked and loaded on my Winamp, hit ‘Play’, then shit happened. From a near distance, I heard mortar-fired shells as I dived into my bunker fearing for my will-be-useful-soon life. Over at Antarctica, thousands of Emperor penguins found strength in their wings and flew off in protest over unpaid royalty from La Marche de l’empereu. McDonalds serve zero calorie. Anwar was arrested. It will take untold catastrophes for people to realise that some things aren’t meant to be.

8. Stole - Kelly Rowland

Indeed, Greg and Mary could have been something greater if not for unexplained acts of violence that wrecked their futures. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. As Kelly Rowland tried to shake off Beyonce’s larger-than-life career, she brazenly sent a message to kids that they should stay in school and pay attention to their English lessons so they could prove her wrong when they grow up. Hopefully she did mean that, else it would be a fucking embarrassment to have the line “her life was stole” in pop existence. Go back to school, bitch.

7. Crank Dat - Soulja Boy

Does anyone dig’ what da fuq Soulja Boy wuz mouthing about? Does anyone dig’ da viral video movement dat exploded on MySpace an’ YouTube? Lemme know ‘n shit.

6. In The End - Linkin Park

Then, 2001. Now, 2008. Get over it, clubs.

5. Butterfly - Crazy Town

Refer to #6.

4. I Kissed A Girl - Katy Perry

How annoying is that song? Especially when the Malaysian censorship board cut out the ‘girl’ part? Who seriously cares? A lot of girls will be bi-curious at some point in their lives. Half of them will do nothing about it, and the other half will pursue it their own ways. While the statistics are my own, there are only 2 categories for girls who kiss other girls: a) girls who kiss girls because they are lesbians, bisexuals and/or bi-curious; and b) girls who kiss girls in front of men who think that girls who kiss girls are so hot z0mg let me fuck two lesbians now. Katy Perry strikes me as someone who belongs in Cat B and that pisses me to no end because I hate people who act out just to get someone else’s attention. Go. Fuck. Yourself.

3. We Built This City - Jefferson Starship

There was a time when I really loved this song and I had it on repeat at work, in my car and at home. That is why I deem myself most qualified to spread the word that this song will make you go crazy on infinity loop (hi Bob). Run for the hills, grab your women and children and save yourselves from the song most consistently voted as one of the worst in history. Be a survivor like me, say cheese!

2. Sara - Starship

I once knew a girl with the same name as the song title. She claimed this song to be her favourite because it reminded her of… her. Such audacity in self-worshiping cannot and will never escape my notice. Unfortunately it also reminded me of her ever since then and I can’t think of a worse way than being forced to do that for a long, long time.

1. My Heart Will Go On - Celine Dion

The white bitch wins. I will tell you everything I know.

Honourable Mention:

Umbrella by Rihanna, Marie Digby, Manic Street Preachers and just about anyone lame enough to sing, remix, and/or perform this piece of highly annoying crap.

I’ve been watching ‘Journey To The West‘ with Ryan because; (a) I have the (legit) VCDs, and (b) each episode is different hence eliminating my boredom from having to watch the same thing on repeat.

Xi You Ji is one of my favourite series, apart from the Condor Heroes trilogy and Yong Zheng Wang Chao (even though I didn’t understand most of what they were saying and had to ask my mom to translate the proverbs and what-not). Now, I only watch the 1986 version because I think every adaptation after that is absolutely crap. Except for the Stephen Chow ones, but those are comical. My brother-in-law dislikes it though, as he thinks that it’s too draggy and the effects corny and crappy. I love everything about it. Something from my childhood

Zhu Bajie and Sun Wukong

IMO, Liu Xiao Ling Tong IS the Monkey King. Dicky Cheung can go play with his Lego.

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I work with people in possession of very odd sense of humour.

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After watching The Dark Knight on Tuesday, I finally decided to watch Batman Begins yesterday. Brilliant, just brilliant! Except for the Katie Holmes part, so I think despite Maggie Gyllenhaal’s performance which I think was blah, the latter was definitely a better choice. Well, anyone but Katie Holmes and Katherine Heigl. Can’t stand both of them.

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Tomorrow is the Hennessy Artistry @ Bkt Kiara. The only famous peps I know who are going to be there are Flo-Rida and Nuffnang bloggers

Regarding Flo-Rida… I didn’t know who this cat was until I heard him on the Howard Stern show. Shows you how in touch I am with popular culture. But because I heard him on the show, I know that he lost his virginity at 13, and recently had a tryst with 11 women in Hawaii. I also know that he brought $5k in singles and had Stern throw the money like rain during his performance. Very theatrical. If he does that tomorrow, I’m keeping the dollars.

There was also an stripper awesome at moving her butt-cheeks one at a time, but I doubt that will happen here.

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If you are an avid reader of my blog, you’d know that I’ve ditched Sitemeter in favour of Woopra. And the reason I know I have avid readers is because some of you come here a few times a day, possibly in hope of an update. And the reason I know who refreshes my blog like mad is because Woopra tracks live visitors and also tags them. This is more fun than Google Analytics any day.

It has been one week since I’ve installed Woopra, and here’s a screenshot:

Click on the photo above for a larger version

Only thing I can’t quite figure out is the timezone. I set it to +8, but I think it lags by a few hours. E.g. Visits after 12 midnight our time still count as hits for the previous day, until 4 - 6 a.m. (don’t know, didn’t check properly). Any one encounters the same shit? Help please? It’s not *very* important, I suppose… as opposed to finding a cure for cancer. But it still bothers me.

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I hate the Twitter whale.