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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUCRXs8eSp7ImA9Wx5UFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186</id><updated>2010-10-20T11:44:24.571-07:00</updated><title>SARCASM ON A STICK</title><subtitle type="html">It beats killing people; much cheaper too.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/farahharith/pdjM" /><feedburner:info uri="farahharith/pdjm" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAARHk-eyp7ImA9Wx5UFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-9073177195899218651</id><published>2010-10-20T02:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T02:59:05.753-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-20T02:59:05.753-07:00</app:edited><title>Don't make me....</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="color: #cc0000; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;To a certain woman whom I despise so terribly much (I'm sure you know who you are), I just want you to know that what I feel like doing right now is give you a &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #20124d;"&gt;HUGE TIGHT SLAP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; right across your face. Your childishness is truly irritating the crap outta me. Balik la to your other negara cepat-cepat sikit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TL685UQ6iOI/AAAAAAAAAuo/07aVnJf8g3Y/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TL685UQ6iOI/AAAAAAAAAuo/07aVnJf8g3Y/s1600/images.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-9073177195899218651?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dbifKh33kFIqCyD_LlUlSMO5iGc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dbifKh33kFIqCyD_LlUlSMO5iGc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dbifKh33kFIqCyD_LlUlSMO5iGc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dbifKh33kFIqCyD_LlUlSMO5iGc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/GMDx-MXbQ7s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/9073177195899218651/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/10/dont-make-me.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/9073177195899218651?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/9073177195899218651?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/GMDx-MXbQ7s/dont-make-me.html" title="Don't make me...." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TL685UQ6iOI/AAAAAAAAAuo/07aVnJf8g3Y/s72-c/images.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/10/dont-make-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcNRHk-fyp7ImA9Wx5WFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-540664875598004293</id><published>2010-09-28T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T09:58:15.757-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-28T09:58:15.757-07:00</app:edited><title>Watching the world go by....</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sometimes the mind wonders why can't children remain children forever? Instead of growing up and joining the world of adults where nothing is certain and almost everything is twisted beyond comprehension. Wouldn't it be nicer if children are able to stay young forever? Then you wouldn't need photographs to remind yourself of how cute they used to be, or how adorable they used to act. There are times when I wish I was still a child. Living in a world where everything is perfect and nothing can ever go wrong. A world where I don't have to deal with problems, be it financial or career or even matters of the heart. It is a common believe that you have to go through hardship in order to attain that goal. But what is my goal? What is my motivation? Somehow I am not able to see anything more than 2 minutes into my future. What is my silver lining? I used to think I know what it is and what I'm hoping for, but right now, what is hope, even? It is the only medicine for the miserable, so they say. But isn't medicine supposed to make you feel good? My hope is only causing me more and more misery. What is more miserable than hoping? The inability to give up hoping. Wouldn't it be easier if I can just say adios and embark on the next episode? Unfortunately for me, I just can't seem to give up. Perhaps when God made me, He opted not to instill in me the courage to give up. The ability to say that's it I've had enough. But then again, He does know better. Perhaps I can't give up because of that pot of gold waiting for me at the end of the rainbow. If I had the nerve to give up, I'd probably never live to see the pot of gold. Although at this point, the proverbial pot of gold is seeming farther and farther out of reach. It's just a blur right now. A dot if you may. A tiny dot on the far end of the horizon. Almost like a mirage. Everytime I think I've got it, it disappears. And that leaves me frustrated. Time and again. How much more can a person take? The way I see it, I'm like a tourist on planet earth. Just passing through. Observing. Looking at life from the outside. I'm just watching the world go by....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-540664875598004293?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sRdrwZyYmRQl0H9A-DeUsGIuEcE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sRdrwZyYmRQl0H9A-DeUsGIuEcE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sRdrwZyYmRQl0H9A-DeUsGIuEcE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sRdrwZyYmRQl0H9A-DeUsGIuEcE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/MYnKB13RJU4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/540664875598004293/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/watching-world-go-by.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/540664875598004293?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/540664875598004293?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/MYnKB13RJU4/watching-world-go-by.html" title="Watching the world go by...." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/watching-world-go-by.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QEQn0-fip7ImA9Wx5WEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-3439539526211357362</id><published>2010-09-21T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T05:15:03.356-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-21T05:15:03.356-07:00</app:edited><title>Film Reviews Project</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"&gt;As you have read in the previous post, I have listed the movies that came out in 2009 and 2010. Observe the next table. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"&gt;Top 20 Highest Grossing Current Malay Movies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJiYFvKZwNI/AAAAAAAAAuU/7VAO_LITnI0/s1600/table41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="363" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJiYFvKZwNI/AAAAAAAAAuU/7VAO_LITnI0/s400/table41.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"&gt;Therefore I shall now embark on a journey to ascertain whether or not these movies deserve the acclaim they have received (based on the money they made).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"&gt;The following are a list of the movies I have choosen to watch from 2009 and 2010 and also some from the list above, and a few others not in the list which were quite big and popular. The purpose of this is to determine what kind of audiences we have in this country and what type of movie-makers we have. Observe the second table.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJid9RPM88I/AAAAAAAAAuY/PA3AiZ3_MtU/s1600/table51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJid9RPM88I/AAAAAAAAAuY/PA3AiZ3_MtU/s640/table51.jpg" width="464" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Above are the movies I have seen and shall be reviewing soon enough. You may have noticed that I have not included quite a few big titles of the past years. Observe the next table.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJihk01rzaI/AAAAAAAAAuc/wiQSH6RrIt4/s1600/table61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJihk01rzaI/AAAAAAAAAuc/wiQSH6RrIt4/s400/table61.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-3439539526211357362?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/c0DkGtwUWL7j4VpMDFa-A-ZVo3I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/c0DkGtwUWL7j4VpMDFa-A-ZVo3I/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/c0DkGtwUWL7j4VpMDFa-A-ZVo3I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/c0DkGtwUWL7j4VpMDFa-A-ZVo3I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/J1pi7i9sJog" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/3439539526211357362/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/film-reviews-project.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/3439539526211357362?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/3439539526211357362?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/J1pi7i9sJog/film-reviews-project.html" title="Film Reviews Project" /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJiYFvKZwNI/AAAAAAAAAuU/7VAO_LITnI0/s72-c/table41.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/film-reviews-project.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08FQ3g5cSp7ImA9Wx5WEEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-7537851649352737933</id><published>2010-09-20T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T13:50:12.629-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-20T13:50:12.629-07:00</app:edited><title>Malaysian movie-goers are too generous with their doubloons....</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In my latest attempt to review the state of our film industry, I have decided to catch up on some of the movies I have missed in the past couple of years. As much as most of the movies are causing my brain cells to cry out for help, I am not giving up just yet. I shall take you through my project step by step. My first step was to list down the movies I intend to watch before I can share with you my thoughts on them. And now my second step is to list down the movies that came out in the years 2009 and 2010, according to FINAS. Note that I have not included any animation based movies because this project is focusing entirely on non-animation based films. I do not have the authority to speak about animations nor do I have any intentions to watch Geng or Upin and Ipin or whatever the hell it is they're called. I'm just not a fan. Sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Filem Cereka 2009 (Mengikut Syarat Wajib Tayang)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJfD-0b5V0I/AAAAAAAAAuM/gilECa4OSXc/s1600/table2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJfD-0b5V0I/AAAAAAAAAuM/gilECa4OSXc/s640/table2.jpg" width="512" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Filem Cereka 2010 (Mengikut Syarat Wajib Tayang)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJfH0CscNhI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/hTGIxjzO4Jk/s1600/table3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="341" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJfH0CscNhI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/hTGIxjzO4Jk/s400/table3.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I shall let you sit on this information for awhile before I bring you the following part of my project. Coming up next will be a list of these movies I have seen and the reasons I have for refusing to watch some of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-7537851649352737933?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/z495L-daHucR9jRKddazJgWmQlk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/z495L-daHucR9jRKddazJgWmQlk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/z495L-daHucR9jRKddazJgWmQlk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/z495L-daHucR9jRKddazJgWmQlk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/gPpgzkn_ZHs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/7537851649352737933/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/malaysian-movie-goers-are-too-generous.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/7537851649352737933?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/7537851649352737933?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/gPpgzkn_ZHs/malaysian-movie-goers-are-too-generous.html" title="Malaysian movie-goers are too generous with their doubloons...." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJfD-0b5V0I/AAAAAAAAAuM/gilECa4OSXc/s72-c/table2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/malaysian-movie-goers-are-too-generous.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQDRH4yeSp7ImA9Wx5XGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-3492051948392345260</id><published>2010-09-19T15:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T15:12:55.091-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-19T15:12:55.091-07:00</app:edited><title>of hopes and dreams....</title><content type="html">Life is about taking risks. Taking chances. As the famous Wayne Gretzky once said,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"You will always miss 100% of the shots you don't take."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But alas, who am I? To ask of another human being to take a chance on me. All I have is myself. And my heart. And my dreams.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Who am I to hope that someone else will want to share my dreams, my hopes, my fears and my laughter? For that is all I can offer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In the words of William Shakespeare,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"The miserable have no other medicine but only Hope."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-3492051948392345260?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sL-Bu3lU4TfMdWdbeVg6OI9oGdw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sL-Bu3lU4TfMdWdbeVg6OI9oGdw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sL-Bu3lU4TfMdWdbeVg6OI9oGdw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sL-Bu3lU4TfMdWdbeVg6OI9oGdw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/JQH2ezdwWhA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/3492051948392345260/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/of-hopes-and-dreams.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/3492051948392345260?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/3492051948392345260?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/JQH2ezdwWhA/of-hopes-and-dreams.html" title="of hopes and dreams...." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/of-hopes-and-dreams.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8NQX86cSp7ImA9Wx5WEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-6951965956021312489</id><published>2010-09-17T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T04:18:10.119-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-21T04:18:10.119-07:00</app:edited><title>Is there hope??</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJUbBAfCijI/AAAAAAAAAuE/vgsYS4rNCcQ/s1600/film.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJUbBAfCijI/AAAAAAAAAuE/vgsYS4rNCcQ/s320/film.jpg" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
I am currently in the mood to catch up on current malay movies I have missed in the past year or two. Why? Because I'm trying to find some hope in what our filmmakers are churning out. So far my hopes have been dashed. But I guess all is not lost yet. I shall provide a collective review soon, after I'm done completing the movies in my to-watch list:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Watched so far:&lt;br /&gt;
1. Kecoh Betul - S. Baldev Singh&lt;br /&gt;
2. Lu Pikirlah Sendiri The Movie - Aminah Rhapor&lt;br /&gt;
3. My Spy - Afdlin Shauki&lt;br /&gt;
4. Legenda Budak Setan - Sharad Sharan&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To-watch list:&lt;br /&gt;
1. Semerah Cinta Stilletto - Ahmad Idham&lt;br /&gt;
2. Adnan Sempit - Ahmad Idham&lt;br /&gt;
3. Muallaf - Arwah Yasmin Ahmad&lt;br /&gt;
4. Andartu Terlampau....21 Hari Mencari Suami - Din CJ&lt;br /&gt;
5. Belukar - Jason Chong&lt;br /&gt;
6. 2 Hati 1 Jiwa - A. Razak Mohaideen&lt;br /&gt;
7. Zoo - Azhari Mohd. Zin&lt;br /&gt;
8. Evolusi KL Drift 2 - Shamsul Yusof&lt;br /&gt;
9. V3 Samseng Jalanan - Farid Kamil&lt;br /&gt;
10. Setem - Khabir Bhatia&lt;br /&gt;
11. Sepi - Khabir Bhatia&lt;br /&gt;
12. Gadoh - Brenda Danker &amp;amp; Nam Ron&lt;br /&gt;
13. Duyung&lt;br /&gt;
14. Hati Malaya 1957 - Shuhaimi Baba&lt;br /&gt;
15. Bohsia....Jangan Pilih Jalan Hitam&lt;br /&gt;
16. Tipu Kanan Tipu Kiri - Sharad Sharan&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-6951965956021312489?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T54-mnDau_raIkehnl-v92KYC_k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T54-mnDau_raIkehnl-v92KYC_k/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T54-mnDau_raIkehnl-v92KYC_k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T54-mnDau_raIkehnl-v92KYC_k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/uEkYYNIcgkQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/6951965956021312489/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/is-there-hope.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/6951965956021312489?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/6951965956021312489?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/uEkYYNIcgkQ/is-there-hope.html" title="Is there hope??" /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJUbBAfCijI/AAAAAAAAAuE/vgsYS4rNCcQ/s72-c/film.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/is-there-hope.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EASHsyeCp7ImA9Wx5XFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-2562964943814176246</id><published>2010-09-16T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T11:27:29.590-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-16T11:27:29.590-07:00</app:edited><title>Lagenda Budak Setan??</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJEVqWF0l9I/AAAAAAAAAtk/8HRIqTWB_YY/s1600/setan.jpg" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;I did not see this movie when it came out on the big screen. I bought the DVD from Speedy last Saturday night and sat down watching it the very same night. After I finished watching, I regretted not having seen it at the cinema. Not because it was good. But because it would have been a blast to laugh out loud in the cinema and annoy all the other people there who were busy crying their eyes out. I read some reviews online and most people liked it. In fact most of them said they felt sad and shed tears. Thus their general feeling about the movie was that it was good. I would have busted my gut laughing and mocking the movie from start to finish! Now for that reason, I deeply regret for not seeing it at the cinema. There goes another chance to piss strangers off. Anyway, back to the movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;For one thing, the title was all wrong. According to a friend of mine, the correct spelling is LEGENDA and not LAGENDA. But that would be the fault of the author, so that's fine. My issue is with the movie. And the director. And the dialogues. And the scenes. And the actors. And the shots. And the characters establishment. And pretty much EVERYTHING else.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;If I had to rate this movie, I'd give it a negative 6 kabajillion. Yup, that's how bad it is.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;I wouldn't recommend this movie to my worst enemy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;I don't even want the DVD anywhere in my house anymore. I've already given it away.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;I blew 20 bucks on that movie. On an original DVD. This movie doesn't even deserve the 7 bucks it cost if I had bought a pirated copy. But pirated copy would have been better coz the 7 bucks doesn't go to the people who made this movie. But my 20 bucks has already legally contributed to the production. Now that is something I shall regret for the rest of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm not even going to bother listing down every single thing that was wrong with the movie because that would take up precious space on my blog. If I were to write it down on paper, it would become so thick I can use it as weight-lift.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Sharad Sharan. Apparently some big shot director from India who has also worked in Indonesia. For that crap of an end product, an ITM grad could have done the job. Why hire someone from outside? Mr Sharan would have made an excellent DOP. But that's about it. He has no talent at all as a director. I mean come on, look at his track record. Diva???? Tipu Kanan Tipu Kiri???? And yet we still don't learn.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;But what astounds me even more is our own Malaysian audience. The movie grossed in some big bucks. And I presume by that, the director and those involved take this to mean that Legenda Budak Setan was an excellent success. The majority of our malay movie audience obviously still lack the brain matter to discern between what's a good movie and what's a bad movie. All you need to do is put two good looking leads, give them some sob storyline, and voila they think that's a good movie.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;I read a review of Legenda Budak Setan on a website and this could probably be one of the few reviews that actually saw the movie for what it really is - crap. And so many people commented on it and disagreed with the reviewer. I understand that things like this are subjective. But it's different to be subjective towards something that has very little flaws than something that is so flawed I wonder if the director had some brain complications.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Example: Avatar was a good movie. But I didn't like it. That's because the movie did not suit my taste. Not because the movie was badly made. Legenda Budak Setan on the other hand was terribly made.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;And yet the majority of our audience still defended it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Here are some of the things I read from the comments on that review I found (and underneath each comment, you can find my own thoughts.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;neela kata: “biase la..setiap filem mmg ade kesilapn..”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;yes indeed, keep this attitude up. keep making excuses for our directors. ask this question: how come you can hardly find a flaw in a P.Ramlee movie?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;fairus kata : “Sebab aku tonton bukan untuk mencari kesalahan. enjoy je tgk cerita ni, sedih pun sedih. kuar air mata jgk la aku tgk, ditambah lagi bila wife aku tersedu-sedu.”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;I did not watch this movie to find flaws. I was hoping to finally come across a current malay movie I can actually like. I had heard some glorious reviews about this movie, so I decided to see it for myself. So I repeat, just like the reviewer, I too did not watch this movie to find flaws. But THE FLAWS JUST SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE! It was sooooooo bloody hell apparent that it would have taken an idiot to miss it! So mr fairus, excuse us for being smart! And he cried! He cried at this stupid flick that did not deserve one drop of my tear! I didn't even know where to cry! At one point I was already rooting for somebody in the movie to just die!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;khai kata : “Gagal?? rasanya tak kot… cuma jalan cerita jer x sebagus Hollywood yang diagung2kan… cukup membuat penonton menangis dah menyatakan cerita ni mudah dihayati dan difahami…memang anda dtg cuma nak kritik bukan untuk hayati crita yang cuba untuk disampaikan…"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Again, another idiot who thinks that we came looking for flaws. Hellooooo the flaws were soo obvious, that it would have been a crime to miss it! And why must he talk about tak sebagus Hollywood? Who's comparing? Hollywood can't help it if their just better at making movies, although they too are susceptible to some bad flicks once in a while. I agree that cerita ini mudah difahami. It was too mudah that it looked like a movie made for 6 year olds!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Nopy  kata: “salah ke pape xde bwk ke mati…huhu..”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Again another idiot who likes to make excuses for our filmmakers. Keep the attitude up. Coz this is the attitude that keeps fattening their bank accounts without having to work hard at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;zeena kata: "actly, lakonan farid kamil kali nih mmg mnyntuh hati gilerrrr. sedih aaa filem nihhh. nyway… congratz utk filem LBS sbb karya n jln citer lebih baik dr cita ‘jiwang2′ melayu yg pnh aku tonton ada peningkatan. i really like it" &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Juding by her spelling, it's no wonder that she actually enjoyed the movie.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Napi kata: "Rasa untuk movie kira boleh lah tgk nak kata teruk pun tak gak sebab citer novel utk 550 pgs di jadik kan movie 1 setengah jam. Alamatknnya berjanggut ler nak abih. Maybe you jenis suka citer mat saleh kot tu yg datang tgk apa yg tak kena ngan movie cam ni. Rasanya kalau movie mat saleh mungkin lah you rasa sedih ke touching ker sebabnya tgk ah , citer dorang pun mana ada censored nak bercium bagai. Apa2 pun oklah citer ni."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;The first book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Fellowship of the Ring is made up 480 pages (on mass paperback) and Peter Jackson managed to turn it into a wonderful movie. He was smart in selecting the scenes, establishing the characters and merging the whole thing together in a brilliant flow. So don't say things like berjanggut lerrrr nak abih and all. Bullshit! Kalau pandai, it can be done. Masalahnya bodoh. And what the hell does cerita mat salleh boleh touching sebab ada scene bercium?!??!?! Cerita P.Ramlee Masam-Masam Manis, ada ka scene bercium between Cikgu Shaari dengan Norkiah?! And yet we can totally feel for the characters, and wanted them to get together in the end. So apa kejadah bullshitnya nak include that stupid remark about cerita mat salleh boleh bercium bagai sebab tu lah boleh rasa sedih?!?!?!? Mentaliti penonton macam ni lah yang akan mematikan industri filem tanahair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;ito kata: "susah2 ekau jo la yg jd pngarahnyo.."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Classic stupid remark. Don't even want to attempt commenting on this one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;All in all, the movie was crap. Legenda Budak Setan as the title boasts, and yet the idiot was a Setan for like 3 minutes of the whole movie! Nice work, Sharad. You should obviously go back film school and learn a thing or two more on character establishment. And Kasyah changed from Budak Setan to Budak Jiwang Karat in the span of 2 seconds. Again, nice work! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;As a conclusion, I'm glad at least somebody in the movie died in the end. Made the torture I went through watching the whole thing somewhat worthwhile. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Dreading the sequels, because it would just further affirm the fact that our audience are regressing more and more. Sad state of affairs.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Note to Directors : Use the tools at your hands to educate, and not be complacent just because the crap you produce are reeling in big bucks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Note to Audience : Open your eyes. And open your minds. If you don't demand for quality, then that is the end of our film industry.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-2562964943814176246?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gV9QAs5iOg5-HtizaUeU85pWm-w/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gV9QAs5iOg5-HtizaUeU85pWm-w/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gV9QAs5iOg5-HtizaUeU85pWm-w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gV9QAs5iOg5-HtizaUeU85pWm-w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/8c9S5yGfL4Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/2562964943814176246/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/lagenda-budak-setan.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/2562964943814176246?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/2562964943814176246?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/8c9S5yGfL4Q/lagenda-budak-setan.html" title="Lagenda Budak Setan??" /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TJEVqWF0l9I/AAAAAAAAAtk/8HRIqTWB_YY/s72-c/setan.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/lagenda-budak-setan.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUFQn86cSp7ImA9Wx5XEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-5593446354562622033</id><published>2010-09-09T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T12:56:53.119-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-09T12:56:53.119-07:00</app:edited><title>Kurniaan Di Hari Raya - Feminin</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Feminin's Raya song - Kurniaan Di Hari Raya (lyrics by Hang Tuah). Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="405" width="500"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/04cPXQ2WyX8?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/04cPXQ2WyX8?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-5593446354562622033?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6D283l1Qki6dGY13IEhN3lN6VRs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6D283l1Qki6dGY13IEhN3lN6VRs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6D283l1Qki6dGY13IEhN3lN6VRs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6D283l1Qki6dGY13IEhN3lN6VRs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/uYYWlzfeXAA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/5593446354562622033/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/kurniaan-di-hari-raya-feminin.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/5593446354562622033?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/5593446354562622033?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/uYYWlzfeXAA/kurniaan-di-hari-raya-feminin.html" title="Kurniaan Di Hari Raya - Feminin" /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/kurniaan-di-hari-raya-feminin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUGRXc5fip7ImA9Wx5QGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-7109452032186322289</id><published>2010-09-07T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T14:00:24.926-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-07T14:00:24.926-07:00</app:edited><title>Things that make you go Vadaaaaaaa....</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIahINuEnpI/AAAAAAAAArU/G7yDBDBK0ss/s1600/elmo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIahINuEnpI/AAAAAAAAArU/G7yDBDBK0ss/s1600/elmo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;To those of you who have been reading, I believe the time has come for me to introduce you to a word that has been coined by my dear brother. We've been using it for ages and the time has come to let the world in on it. The word in question is VADA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It essentially means "what-the-f***" or "what-the hell" or rather "you've-got-to-be-kidding-me". It's a more polite way to say those things actually. Kinda like the hand gesture Ross (from Friends) came up with to replace giving the middle finger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So in this post, I'll be listing down the things that will make you go Vadaaaaaa!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIahwcbKldI/AAAAAAAAArc/gvghVOgGkXA/s1600/atm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="149" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIahwcbKldI/AAAAAAAAArc/gvghVOgGkXA/s200/atm.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;1. ATMs that shut downs soon as the clock strikes midnight. Like seriously? It turns into a pumpkin or something if it doesn't switch off before midnight?!?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIaivtslU3I/AAAAAAAAAro/SbM2BfonBjk/s1600/offduty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIaivtslU3I/AAAAAAAAAro/SbM2BfonBjk/s1600/offduty.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;2. Pharmacies that are open, but puts up a sign that says "No Pharmacist On Duty". Come on! Might as well just close up, right?! And why the hell do pharmacists work less hours than other normal human beings??!! There's never one around when you need one! But hey on the bright side, with your headache playing sommersaults in your skull, you can still purchase a bottle of hair color or a bar of soap off the counter!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIaiq3ErpeI/AAAAAAAAArk/SjovqMJ_yEA/s1600/doc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIaiq3ErpeI/AAAAAAAAArk/SjovqMJ_yEA/s1600/doc.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;3. And what about clinics that close on the weekends? Is there some kind of stuff they taught these doctors when they were back in med school that people don't get sick on the weekends?! So yeah, go right ahead and work 9-5 on weekdays! And no, don't tell me I can always go to the hospital! The reason clinics exist are for people like me who hate the sight of hospitals.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIah4KplyOI/AAAAAAAAArg/5AQuXvT2Juw/s1600/nakedbaby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIah4KplyOI/AAAAAAAAArg/5AQuXvT2Juw/s1600/nakedbaby.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;4. Now this next one is a chart-topper. Over-zealous parents who create Facebook accounts for their new borns! Doesn't the fact that Facebook has an "above a certain age" clause before you can join trigger something in their little heads that maybe, just maybe, their babies DO NOT need an account just yet?! I mean seriously, what's the point in a signing up a 2-month old baby for Facebook? Starting the kid at a young age on the social networking, no holds barred world of privacy-less life on the world wide web? And post up naked pictures of their baby and think that it's cute?! Wait till the kid grows up and resents you for that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIahew0VGEI/AAAAAAAAArY/Owsw7AsNtO4/s1600/gucci.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIahew0VGEI/AAAAAAAAArY/Owsw7AsNtO4/s1600/gucci.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;5. How about this one? Measuring life by the number of branded handbags you have?! Hmm okay, now I have 300 Guccis and 4500 Pradas and 67 Christian Diors, oooh my life is so complete! Come on! And I am in no way jealous of those who have those handbags, wanna know why?! Coz I bought a Christian Dior in Petaling Street once for 80 bucks, and 4 out of 5 people who saw it actually thought it was an original! So there, no I don't get jealous if you blow 4000 bucks on one friggin' handbag! Too bad for those designer brands, I'm a smart cat! And by the way, if I do have enough money one day to actually blow it on those bags, it's because I just want to. Not because I feel like I've achieved something by purchasing those overpriced nonsense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIamG0883wI/AAAAAAAAArs/f6e_MoyMsFI/s1600/clavage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="149" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIamG0883wI/AAAAAAAAArs/f6e_MoyMsFI/s200/clavage.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;6. And this one just irks me to no end. Married ladies who are over 40, yet behave like they're 17! With their cleavages hanging out, short skirts riding up, and holding a cigarette in hand while the husbands sit next to them looking like a complete tool! Grow up, already!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIamnveXHcI/AAAAAAAAAr0/ADoOgD5FrnM/s1600/panty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIamnveXHcI/AAAAAAAAAr0/ADoOgD5FrnM/s1600/panty.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;7. Panty lines. Major fashion faux-pas. Major vadaaaa moment. If you wanna wear a tight skirt, or a tight white pants, please have the decency to put on a thong&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIamswvOaNI/AAAAAAAAAr4/hsjD4G4tdIE/s1600/muffin+top.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIamswvOaNI/AAAAAAAAAr4/hsjD4G4tdIE/s1600/muffin+top.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;8. People who are big wearing clothes that are 5 sizes smaller than their actual size! I have nothing against big people. I mean look at Adibah Noor. She's big, but she knows how to dress. You don't see bits and pieces of her hanging out all over the place. So come on, either you lose weight, or embrace your size and dress appropriately. Nobody enjoys the sight of a muffin top cropping up on your jeans, and you would expect their shirts to be long enough to cover up the muffin top but noooooooooooo the shirt seems to hang just somewhere in the middle of their tummy. Not sexy, people, not sexy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIamxarRkfI/AAAAAAAAAr8/kvQokzX-piQ/s1600/crack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIamxarRkfI/AAAAAAAAAr8/kvQokzX-piQ/s1600/crack.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;9. This next one doesn't just make me go vadaaaa, but also makes me want to puke. Those who wear short shirts and low cut jeans and when they sit down, they love leaning forward and leaving their cracks peeping out for all the world to see! Seriously, please, people, pull up those pants!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIam1DFBi4I/AAAAAAAAAsA/qa_jHFB_Fg8/s1600/gagak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIam1DFBi4I/AAAAAAAAAsA/qa_jHFB_Fg8/s1600/gagak.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;10. Lady Gaga. Need I say more?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-7109452032186322289?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qkWKIBjYWITi9jam6iWZTcnLkdw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qkWKIBjYWITi9jam6iWZTcnLkdw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/4kdz3qICe84" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/7109452032186322289/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/things-that-make-you-go-vadaaaaaaa.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/7109452032186322289?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/7109452032186322289?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/4kdz3qICe84/things-that-make-you-go-vadaaaaaaa.html" title="Things that make you go Vadaaaaaaa...." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIahINuEnpI/AAAAAAAAArU/G7yDBDBK0ss/s72-c/elmo.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/things-that-make-you-go-vadaaaaaaa.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQGRXs7fCp7ImA9Wx5QGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-7981351705273920700</id><published>2010-09-07T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T06:48:44.504-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-07T06:48:44.504-07:00</app:edited><title>Songs You Should Never Play At A Wedding....</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIZChyR8NbI/AAAAAAAAAqI/nVRKb46s0IE/s1600/wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="226" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIZChyR8NbI/AAAAAAAAAqI/nVRKb46s0IE/s320/wedding.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Have you ever been to a wedding; as you enjoy the romantic ambience, how the bride and groom look so happy together, when suddenly the band starts playing songs which shouldn't be allowed anywhere within a 5km radius of a wedding ceremony??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Listed below are a list of songs that should &lt;b style="color: red;"&gt;NEVER&lt;/b&gt;, and I repeat &lt;b style="color: red;"&gt;NEVER,&lt;/b&gt; be played during a wedding:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. My Way - Frank Sinatra&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Now this one is a definite favourite during weddings. Out of 10 weddings I attend, at least 7 will play this one without fail. Why, I will never know. I have nothing against this song, I love it, it's also a classic karaoke favourite, but a wedding is the last place people should play this! I mean seriously, &lt;i&gt;"And now, the end is near, and so I face the final curtain, my friends I'll say it clear, I'll state the case of which I'm certain, I've lived a life that's full, I travelled each and every highway, but more much more than this, I did it &lt;b&gt;MY WAY&lt;/b&gt;!"&lt;/i&gt; For real now?! If the groom did it his way, he would never get married. And the end is near?!? Yeah, if the couple believes that their wedding is the end of the road! So people, don't just pick songs because they're popular, take a look at the lyrics when you're putting together the playlist, for crying out loud!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Superwoman - Karyn White&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Now this one just astounds me. I attended a wedding once and they actually played this! I'm sure the bride and groom did not have a say in their playlist coz' they're one of my closest friends, and they are absolutely in love. So another word of advice, DO NOT leave it to the band to pick your songs. This is what happens when you let them go nuts with their music selection. Superwoman is possibly even more inappropriate than My Way for a wedding! &lt;i&gt;"Now you say the juice is sour when it used to be so sweet, And I can't help but to wonder if you're talking about me, We don't talk the way we used to talk, it's hurting so deep, I've got my pride, I will not cry, but it's making me weak....I'm NOT your superwoman...."&lt;/i&gt; Now you can play this at your 20th wedding anniversary! Just not on your WEDDING DAY!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Please Release Me - Engelbert Humperdinck&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This just goes without saying. I know that it is an extremely popular oldie and no wedding is complete without at least one song from the great Engelbert. But just don't let it be this song! &lt;i&gt;"Please release me, let me go, for I don't love you anymore...."&lt;/i&gt; Seriously?!?! It's your wedding day, for heaven's sake, and you're already asking to be released?!?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Yesterday - The Beatles&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Another major hit classic. Who doesn't like the Beatles? (I don't actually, but I know most of you out there do.) But &lt;i&gt;"Yesterday, all my troubles seem so far away, now it looks as though they're here to stay, Oh I believe in yesterday...."?!?!?!&lt;/i&gt; Nice to know how you people feel about your wedding day! So please, do not wreck your romantic atmosphere with this song. Keep it to when you're going out for a karaoke session with your mates, but do not let the band spin this number as you've just exchanged vows to spend the rest of your lives together!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. On Bended Knees - Boyz II Men&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Now who doesn't like a little hot r&amp;amp;b during their wedding? The smoky, sultry harmonization. The beautiful voices and the sexy beats. But not this one! Just because the title says On Bended Knees, it is not referring to a guy going on bended knees proposing happily to the women he loves! He's on bended knees, begging for her to come back to him! So do not be deceived by the title of a song! Spend some time and read the lyrics! This is a definite no-no for a wedding. &lt;i&gt;"Can we go back to the days our love was strong, can you tell me how a perfect love goes wrong, can somebody tell me how to get things back to the way they used to be, Oh God give me a reason, I'm down ON BENDED KNEES!"&lt;/i&gt; Doesn't sound very wedding-y anymore, does it?! There are so many other beautiful r&amp;amp;b songs out there you can choose from. Stay away from this one like the plague! You already have each other, for pete's sake! What do you want to go back to?? The days when you were begging for her to go out with you?!? Or the days when you were trying to make him see that getting married would actually be a good thing?! In the words of Ali Nadeem, oh blimey!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;6. Rose Garden - Lynn Anderson&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A lot of people like to play oldies at a wedding. I like that too, in fact my own wedding someday will be filled with a whole bunch of lovely romantic oldies. But as I've so adamantly stated from the beginning of this post, PAY ATTENTION TO THE LYRICS FIRST BEFORE YOU DUMP IT INTO YOUR WEDDING PLAYLIST! How is this song befitting for a wedding?! &lt;i&gt;"I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden, Along with the sunshine, there's gotta be a little rain sometime, When you take you gotta give, so live and let live, or LET GO, I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden." &lt;/i&gt;Sounds like a disclaimer, if you ask me! Dude is safeguarding himself before his wife starts to ask for things he can't give! Come on! Keep that for after the wedding, or shouldn't that be something you settled before deciding to take the big leap?!?! Weddings should give off a romantic illusion, don't wreck it with this number!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;7. Bad Moon Rising - CCR&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I understand that you rock lovers out there would want to infuse your wedding with that part of your personality. But please not this one! Of all the rock songs, just not this one! Play something from Nirvana or Dio or Guns N Roses for that matter, coz' with those rock groups, you hardly know what they're singing most of the time anyway. So whatever the lyrics are saying, you're safe. But not Bad Moon Rising! &lt;i&gt;"Don't go out tonight, it's bound TO TAKE YOUR LIFE, there's a bad moon on the rise...."&lt;/i&gt; Do I have to explain it any further?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;8. How Can I Tell Her - Lobo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When I hear this at a wedding, I just surrender in desperation. Even my Dad loves this song! I wonder how my mom seems to be okay with that! But anyway, again, karaoke session with your mates, fine! Just not at your wedding dudes! Yup, again the title sounds deceiving. Sounds like he's trying to say how can i tell her how much I love her. bla bla bla. BUT NOOOOO! &lt;i&gt;"How can I tell her about you? Girl please tell me what to do? Everything seems right whenever I'm with you, so girl won't you tell me, how to tell her about you...."&lt;/i&gt; He's trying to find out a way to tell the woman he's with that he's got another girl on the side! Perfect. Introduce your bride to your meandering ways on your wedding day itself! Keep it for later, for goodness' sake! Just try to keep the romantic illusion for that few hours!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;9. Ain't No Way - Helen Reddy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Now who can resist the beautiful vocal of Helen Reddy? She's got so many other beautiful classics, but somehow, this one makes the cut onto your wedding playlist! &lt;i&gt;"That ain't no way to treat a lady no way to treat your baby, your woman, your friend, That ain't no way to treat a lady no way, but maybe it's a way for us to END."&lt;/i&gt; Nice. You've been married for a few hours, and already you're looking to end it?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;10. I've Never Been To Me - Charlene&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yo ladies. You wanna play this at your hen night, go right ahead! You wanna belt it out at your hen night, again go right ahead. But at your wedding?! In front of your newly-wedded husband?! A bigger no-no than My Way, Please Release Me, and all the other no-no songs put together! &lt;i&gt;"Oh, I've been to Georgia and California and anywhere I could run, I took the hand of a preacher man and we made love in the sun, But I ran out of places and friendly faces because I had to be free, I've been to paradise but I've never been to me...."&lt;/i&gt; Way to go, confession at the very start. I know how they say honesty is the best policy, but try to make your confessions before you rope the guy in with a wedding band around his neck! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #3d85c6; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;11. Torn Between Two Lovers - Mary MacGregor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And to wrap up this list, there's no other song better than this one. &lt;i&gt;"There's been another man that I've needed and I've loved, But that doesn't mean I love you less,  And he knows he can't possess me, and he knows he never will, There's just this empty place inside of me that only he can fill, Torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool, Loving both of you is breaking all the rules...."&lt;/i&gt; Yeah you're a fool alright! 'Nuff said!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;People don't realize how important the songs you play at your wedding are. Sure you don't really take those lyrics to heart, but it just doesn't go! Doesn't set a romantic mood at all! Far from it, as a matter of fact. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yDoWTn6bxYqI0xVPDbvkW0Pp-fw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yDoWTn6bxYqI0xVPDbvkW0Pp-fw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/e8qkOH_bHo4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/7981351705273920700/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/songs-you-should-never-play-at-wedding.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/7981351705273920700?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/7981351705273920700?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/e8qkOH_bHo4/songs-you-should-never-play-at-wedding.html" title="Songs You Should Never Play At A Wedding...." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIZChyR8NbI/AAAAAAAAAqI/nVRKb46s0IE/s72-c/wedding.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/09/songs-you-should-never-play-at-wedding.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQESHk5cCp7ImA9Wx5QF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-6698769047613304402</id><published>2010-09-06T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T08:35:09.728-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-06T08:35:09.728-07:00</app:edited><title>of low levels of the dark pigment eumelanin....</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIUKEU4yZvI/AAAAAAAAApg/ZERfvcI1X_I/s1600/caridee-photo-dumb-blonde-model-rea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TIUKEU4yZvI/AAAAAAAAApg/ZERfvcI1X_I/s320/caridee-photo-dumb-blonde-model-rea.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As promised in my sneak preview, here is my two cents' worth on a certain species. The hair color used to signify that those with that particular hair color were specifically stupid. However we have evolved. Those who are blondes are not necessarily stupid anymore. We have the late Lady Diana, we have Ellen Degeneres, Katherine Heigl, Martha Stewart (although this one is rather subjected to differing opinions), and the list goes on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But it's amazing how dumb blondes have now evolved to those who do not even have that hair color.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I have nothing against people with blonde hair color, I just have something against those who are dumb yet insist in thinking that they are actually smart. I am in no way implying that I am all that smart (I succumb to the occasional blonde moments, but don't we all?!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I had the opportunity to come across certain specimens of said species. And all I can say is that may they prosper in their own little ignorant shells. I probably shouldn't be hitting out at them so much seeing as to their limited brain cells capacity in comprehending logic and reason. So all I can say is, &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Comic Sans MS; font-size: small;"&gt;Those of you who think you know everything are annoying those of us who do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;So I named this site Sarcasm on a Stick, but even sarcastic people are romantic souls at heart. Tonight, I'm just feeling somewhat melancholic. Putting sarcasm aside, love is what's on my mind at the moment. Perhaps it's the night air, could also be the fact that I have been spending the last hour listening to love songs on YouTube. Or it could be that tonight I saw a collage of old photos made by a friend to commemorate his 40th wedding anniversary. It's amazing in this day and age how two people can stay together that long and from the way he talks, it's apparent that they are both still very much in love, perhaps even more so than from the moment they first met. Happy Anniversary Joe. This post is for you and your lovely wife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;I congratulated him on his anniversary and his response was that things were much simpler back then. That's why both of them found each other and decided to spend the rest of their lives together. My parents have been together for 30 years now. Next April they'll be celebrating their 31st. It's relationships like these that still make me believe that love isn't a lost cause after all. Perhaps today we choose to complicate things. We seek for love in all the wrong places and we end up making excuses for our choices. Love shouldn't be complicated. It should be beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/THV1WttooMI/AAAAAAAAAgE/4po72rE6XSk/s1600/old+photos+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/THV1WttooMI/AAAAAAAAAgE/4po72rE6XSk/s320/old+photos+005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Somebody once told me that love isn't lost, it is merely waiting to be found. To Joe and his wife, to my parents, you guys are truly lucky to have found it and to have sense enough to hold on to it. There are those who throw it away at the sight of the slightest bump in the road. They forgot all about the day they exchanged vows to be true to one another. They forgot about the songs they picked to be played at their weddings. They forgot about the beautiful lyrics that moved them at the time. They forgot how it felt when they looked into each other's eyes. They forgot how it felt waking up next to each other every morning. These people do not realize that there are those who spend their entire lives searching for what they have so casually thrown away.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"You could give me wings to fly, catch me if I fall,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Or pull the stars down from the sky so I could wish on them all,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;But I couldn't ask for more,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'Cause your love is the greatest gift of all....."&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Sometimes I feel like I'm older than I actually am. I long for the simplicity of the days that my eyes never saw, my body never lived through. But my soul has been around perhaps longer than my physical being. Perhaps that is why I feel like I belong in the good ol' days. Where life was simpler and love was uncomplicated. But indeed, God is great, he gave me someone who has seen the days of simplicity. A man who lives by the codes and conducts of a gentleman. Yes, our love is still complicated. But, the truth at the heart of the complication is that I am willing to ride the waves to see what the future has in store for us.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;"There's a light, certain kind of light,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;That never shone on me,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;I want my life to be,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Lived with you, lived with you....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;There's a way, everybody say, to do each and every little thing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;But what good does it bring,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;If I ain't got you, ain't got you....."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Maybe the lesson here is that we should never lose sight of the big picture. No matter how bumpy the road gets, no matter how crazy it may seem, if we believe in it, then it's best to keep it simple and remember that love is worth it. Like the old Malay adage, "Kuman seberang laut nampak, Gajah depan mata tak nampak." Sometimes what we're looking for is already right there in front of us. All it takes is to look with your heart. In the spirit of keeping things simple, here's to all you lovers out there. Just think back to the feeling you had when you first saw her, or him. When you first held each other's hands. When you first kissed. When you first laughed over the silliest thing. Then 40 years won't be a distant dream. Here's to 50, 60, 70, 80, a lifetime's worth of romantic bliss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;"Well you had me from "Hello"&lt;br /&gt;
I felt love start to grow&lt;br /&gt;
The moment that I looked into your eyes, you won me&lt;br /&gt;
It was over from the start&lt;br /&gt;
You completely stole my heart&lt;br /&gt;
And now you won't let go&lt;br /&gt;
I never even had a chance you know&lt;br /&gt;
You had me from "Hello."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Make it last, people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Make memories and remember them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="color: magenta; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-3670229755930746191?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QuXT8jwxRDiU-BcZ_FrImq-h89o/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QuXT8jwxRDiU-BcZ_FrImq-h89o/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/9szYarsOM4g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/3670229755930746191/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/08/of-falling-in-love-and-staying-that-way.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/3670229755930746191?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/3670229755930746191?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/9szYarsOM4g/of-falling-in-love-and-staying-that-way.html" title="of falling in love and staying that way...." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/THV2WCULcsI/AAAAAAAAAgM/fT7SqU0PQEg/s72-c/old-couple-on-beach-001.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/08/of-falling-in-love-and-staying-that-way.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YEQHc7eSp7ImA9Wx5RFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-3719637168718467192</id><published>2010-08-23T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T12:18:21.901-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-23T12:18:21.901-07:00</app:edited><title>Of moonbathing and tomato sauce....</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/THK6Rx8HgMI/AAAAAAAAAeY/TGjeDircdOc/s1600/zila+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/THK6Rx8HgMI/AAAAAAAAAeY/TGjeDircdOc/s320/zila+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;If you're really lucky, there will be somebody in your life who understands you inside out, finishes your sentences, thinks your thoughts and is always there throughout each and every crazy scheme you come up with. I have to warn you, this post might start to get sappy but I don't care. This post is for you awak. To the rest of you who may find this heavily mushy, screw you. To the rest, read on. You might a learn a thing or two about life and friendship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In 1999, I stepped into a place I have come to hate as the years went by. I still hate that place and I have no qualms in stating that the place I am referring to is the International Islamic University of Malaysia. But one thing good that came out of that life-sucking hole, is the few great friends I made. "Awak" here is one of the few friends I still cherish to this day and will continue to do so for the rest of my life. We were both from up north and initially had absloutely nothing in common, or so we thought. She hung out mostly with the upper crust kids, and I found solace in my dorm mates. See it was my first time in a dormitory and suffice to say I hated hostel life. We shared the same class that first semester. We were among a handful of English Lit students who were exempted from taking language classes because we had the sense to actually pay attention in English class back in school. So we were instantly able to start off on our Lit courses. The first few weeks, "awak" and I still did not interact much. I kept to myself&amp;nbsp; mostly and was never good at initiating the first move in making friends. I'm still like that actually. But that's another story....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Anyway, one fine day, I got a call on my cell phone. Back in '99, not many kids carried phones, unlike today. Even primary school kids carry the latest funky phone to school. Back then, I was one of the few in my class who had a cell phone during our first semester. Turns out it was "awak" who called me. She had my number coz' we were in the same drama group, so I guess I must've given out my number or something. I can't really recall the details. But she called me, and she was somewhere off campus and she couldn't make it back in time for our class. So she needed me to fabricate a little excuse to tell our lecturer. I obliged. And somehow that sparked off a friendship that I will forever hold dearly in my heart.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I guess along the way of surviving that horrible university, we discovered that we had a lot of things in common and we enjoyed each other's company. We confided in each other about anything and everything under the sun. We were so comfortable with each other that sometimes when we crashed in each other's hostel room, we would sleep on the same bed. Remember those double-decker beds? Well we slept together on the top bunk! No, we're not gay. We both love men too much. Know how some ladies would put lotion on their hands and feet before going to bed? Well some nights we would spend talking while almost entirely clearing out a whole bottle of Nivea lotion. Ok we drew the line there. We applied lotion to ourselves. NOT each other! And that was where we coined the phrase, Moonbathing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We'd go shopping all day, walking hand in hand, out of one shop and into another. Giggling, laughing, smiling, bitching, gossiping, talking about literature, family, dreams, the future, everything. And as far as I can recall, we never fought. Not even once.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Our friendship strengthened when we entered the main campus in Gombak. She went there first. I got held back in matrics coz' I kept screwing up my Arabic. But the friendship never withered. It's very hard for me to put it into clear words what she means to me. She was more than a sister, more than just a normal friend, more than just a college mate. She was this incredibly smart, supremely talented, amazing person. We were like Monica and Rachel. Like those sex and the city folks. Only this was real. Mostly we talked about boys, she had this boyfriend she had been seeing for the longest time. Everytime they fought, I would try whatever I could to make them get back together. She was there for me when my then boyfriend and I were going through a rough patch. She was there for me for everything. And vice versa. Even through her tomato sauce addiction phase.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And then&amp;nbsp; came 2006. Late 2005 I believe it was, she had left for Queensland to pursue her master's degree. I was still in Gombak. She called me from Australia, we shared stories like we usually do. In April '06 my then boyfriend and I brokeup. I was devastated but "awak" was there for me through the phone calls and e-mails. She was also going through some stuff with her then boyfriend. And then something happened. I wish I could say what it was. I wish I knew what it was. But I don't. All I knew was that "awak" had suddenly stopped calling me. Stopped e-mailing me. Her then boyfriend communicated with me at the time, but according to him, he has no idea what was going on. I tried mailing, I tried calling, but to no avail. Perhaps I should have tried harder. Perhaps I should have somehow convinced my Dad to let me fly to Queensland. Perhaps I should have tracked her down harder. But I didn't. I was sad, then I got angry. Then I got sad again. And then time just went by. She was in my thoughts almost every single day. Sometimes I cried. Sometimes I grit my teeth in anger. I wish I knew what it was I had done, if I had done anything at all. I wish I could apologize and things would go back to the way they used to be. So I could have my "awak" again.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I met Hang Tuah in 2007 and I kept telling him how wonderful it would be if "awak" and I were still friends, coz' she would definitely like Tuah. I can somehow picture them getting along beautifully. But alas, all I could do was keep regaling to him stories after stories of my "awak".&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A few months back, after some serious snooping on the internet, I found her on facebook. I looked at her profile picture, and I just stared at the "Add As Friend" button. I also stared at the "Send Her A Message" button. Somehow, I was not prepared for her response. Would she shoot me down? Would she just ignore me? I wasn't really ready to find out either way.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A couple of weeks back, I found myself staring at those buttons again on her front page. Suddenly I found myself clicking on the message button, and I began typing out words. Words then became sentences, and I thought to myself, what the hell? What have I got to lose? Worst-case scenario is she turns me down, and I know I have truly lost my best friend for good. But there is also the possibility that she might just reply. So I did it. I hit send.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And the reply came just a few hours later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It said, "Awaaaaaaakkkkkk, i miss you too."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I cried.&amp;nbsp; I looked at the computer screen, read her words over and over again. And I cried. Here was my "awak" again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And today, I got a call from a weird number on my phone. I picked it up and what do I hear?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The ever so familiar "Awaaaaaaaak. Ni orang lah."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It has been almost 5 years since I last heard that. But it was so natural and familiar to me that it felt like we never went our separate ways. It was like returning home after so many years of being away. We spent almost an hour on the phone, talking about everything we could talk about again. Just like we used to in the old days. We fell back into the familiar role of being each other's best friends like we never were apart. There were no awkwardness, no uncomfortable silences. It was just insanely familiar.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I told her, when we do meet up again, she better not runaway coz' I know I'm gonna be crying my eyes out. She replied the only running she'll be doing is into my arms. Some of you may start to think that this is beginning to sound rather gay-ish. All I can say is, if you do not have this feeling with your best friend, then I'm sorry but you have no idea what you're missing out on. It's not gay. It's not weird. It's just two people who are the best of friends and who love each other no matter what. Through thick and thin. Yeah we had our bump in the road, who hasn't?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So look at your best friends. Are you willing to be there for each other no matter what? Coz' that's what friends are for. If you do not have an "awak" in your life like I do, you're really missing out on the true meaning of friendship.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;To awak, I can't wait to see you! Love you loads.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/248/FF83371A0F9252CADBB7A51F3B72AE76.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: 0pt none ! important;" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-3719637168718467192?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vxziNnMzOrqqELygqQLna0lNS2Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vxziNnMzOrqqELygqQLna0lNS2Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/kB3XB0J1t7s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/6329135082720456755/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/08/of-nothing-to-blog-about.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/6329135082720456755?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/6329135082720456755?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/kB3XB0J1t7s/of-nothing-to-blog-about.html" title="Of nothing to blog about...." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TG0__Oi3exI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/JHl9_CN7gf0/s72-c/P1110068.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/08/of-nothing-to-blog-about.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEARH4_fyp7ImA9Wx5QFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-8048726288544962075</id><published>2010-07-20T10:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T04:40:45.047-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-02T04:40:45.047-07:00</app:edited><title>Tidurlah, Pujaan Hatiku....</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TH-NMy3sWVI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/IoBQra1EV6w/s1600/pr_foto01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TH-NMy3sWVI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/IoBQra1EV6w/s320/pr_foto01.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Seorang insan bergelar lagenda. Seorang anak seni yang tiada tolok bandingnya. Di waktu malam begini, hati ku tergerak untuk mendengar suaranya. Lalu di putarkan lagu beliau. Sedang berkumandangnya kelunakan suara insan ini, tiba-tiba jari jemari terpanggil untuk melakarkan sesuatu. Terasa inspirasi singgah di hati. Sesungguhnya suara beliau begitu menawan kalbu. Ramlee bin Puteh. Diri ini serasa tidak layak untuk menulis sesuatu mengenai insan ini. Rasanya tidak cukup ilmu di dada, tidak tercapai akal ini untuk mengatakan sesuatu yang layak untuk menggambarkan keistimewaan insan ini. Kerna amat benar, insan ini cukup istimewa. Biarpun masa silih berganti, beliau masih tiada penggantinya. Melalui karyanya, dapat dirasakan kesedihannya, kegembiraannya, ketulusan hatinya. Setiap kali melangkah masuk ke dalam rumah beliau di Setapak, sering hati ini dilanda kesedihan yang teramat kuat. Air mata menitis di Kuala Lumpur. Beliau pernah menyuarakan hasrat untuk hidup seribu tahun lamanya. Nyata hasrat itu hidup melalui karyanya. Sungguh hebat bakat yang dikurniakan Illahi pada dirinya. Walaupun pada hujung hayatnya, beliau merasakan seolah dirinya sudah tidak dihargai, namun nyata usahanya sepanjang hayat tidak sia-sia. P.Ramlee seniman agung. Lagenda sepanjang zaman. Inspirasiku. Tidurlah wahai pujaan hatiku. Tidurmu diiringi doa. Perjuanganmu dikenang. Karyamu dijulang. Di dalam hati kau tetap bersemi. Seribu tahun menjadi pasti. Air mata di Kuala Lumpur bukanlah penghujung. Menitis kini kerna kagum. Tidurlah dengan tenang, Ramlee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-8048726288544962075?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/a5oDAbbDz8cKlbkW-3e_mrqDd8c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/a5oDAbbDz8cKlbkW-3e_mrqDd8c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/WPjhI_thkF4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/6180431842326719750/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/07/you-suck.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/6180431842326719750?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/6180431842326719750?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/WPjhI_thkF4/you-suck.html" title="You Suck!" /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/07/you-suck.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkENRHo_cCp7ImA9WxFaEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-828276607316720504</id><published>2010-07-13T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T05:38:15.448-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-13T05:38:15.448-07:00</app:edited><title>Selamanya - Innuendo</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-bbe79ed31a04108" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;This is an amateur video clip of Innuendo's Selamanya; a dedication to the lyricist, Azmi Abdul Rahman (Cahaya Pena).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To view on YouTube, click on the link below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eR9m_deSy44"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eR9m_deSy44&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-828276607316720504?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #000099; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tak kira siang atau&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #000099; font-weight: bold;"&gt;pun malam,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #000099; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ku taburkan bakti...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In a time where almost everyone in this country are having doubts about our police force, I am inclined to believe in them. Or at least in what they represent. And that not all cops are bad. There are those who are dedicated to the force and believes in upholding justice and maintaining peace for all of us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The lyrics above was part of a song called Ku Ibarat Lilin and at one time was the theme song for PDRM. And my uncle who was in the police force sang this song many years ago for the PDRM album which was released in 1990 under BMG Records.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The lyrics fills me with a sense of pride for our police force. I still remember, at one time I wanted to be a police inspector. Somehow that plan didn't quite pan out. But I still think that one bad apple does not necessarily contaminate the entire bushel. Our police force keeps us free to do what we want, when we want. How is it that people are so quick to judge them these days? Perhaps this song could repair some of the PR damage that PDRM has been suffering of late.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TBJZYWuV1CI/AAAAAAAAAOY/--aJAVmWpmY/s1600/untitled4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481541971414996002" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TBJZYWuV1CI/AAAAAAAAAOY/--aJAVmWpmY/s320/untitled4.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 210px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mustaffa Yusoff. The man who sang this song. The man with the golden voice. My uncle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This post is for you, Bab, an ex-policeman who dropped out of the force because he "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tak sampai hati nak tangkap orang jahat&lt;/span&gt;." My dad, the man with a big heart. The best dad in the whole universe. Happy Father's Day. To My Bab, and all the policemen out there. People can say what they want about the police force, but I know better. I remember loving this song so much I sang it during one of our family functions. I was only 9 at the time. I loved this song because my uncle made it special. He and my Dad are among those who believes in justice and the truth and doing the right thing. To my uncle, though many may have forgotten this song, I intend to do my part in keeping it alive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #006600; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;Here's the song Ibarat Lilin. Enjoy. Hidup PDRM!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Hello Sanity." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TA3pmnWxqKI/AAAAAAAAAOI/0FPRVRKvKeA/s72-c/plane.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/06/bye-bye-stress-hello-sanity.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cGQn05fyp7ImA9WxFWFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-4200514976123033453</id><published>2010-06-04T04:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T05:37:03.327-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-04T05:37:03.327-07:00</app:edited><title>Next, please!</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAjwQzYoNTI/AAAAAAAAANw/LTifZYDpbm4/s1600/stressed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAjwQzYoNTI/AAAAAAAAANw/LTifZYDpbm4/s320/stressed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478893118158288178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I am just so angry at the moment. Livid, positively flaming with rage. If I was not at the office I would have probably smashed something against the wall by now. The rage that is boiling in me has almost reached its peak that it might just explode and result at profanities being hurled at anything or anyone that decides to cross me right now. Somehow I am trying to contain it and wait until I get home before I explode. I still have one more news to read on-air at 8pm; can't afford to lose my cool now. But once I'm done with that I'm heading home to yell expletives and bash a wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What meeting is so horrendously important that I am not allowed a few hours to unwind and enjoy this weekend? What gathering is sooooo friggin' vital that I am being relegated to a weekend of take-outs and reruns of reruns of reruns? Are you people trying to solve world hunger? Plotting to take-over the British Empire? Working on a cure for the common cold??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why I am beyond furious. Remember Carrie? She was nothing compared to what I'm feeling right now. Hell has no fury like a woman who's weekend just got hijacked by a pot-luck gathering! Words can't even begin to describe how mad I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn't that I don't want to understand. I can. And I think I have been patient enough. I believe I deserve a day to enjoy and unwind and just walk around malls or have tea at some mamak. Bukannya aku ajak pi Bali ka Paris ka. Just a simple day out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, blogging from the office on a Friday night, going back to watch Ghost Whisperer and pig out on McDonalds, and tomorrow's Saturday, stay at home watching Cosby and ALF reruns, pig out on McDonalds, and then it will be Sunday, same thing all over again, and then it's Monday already and a whole week begins again, miserably awaiting for next weekend, probably to get just as disappointed as this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, please. (Note to next: You better not ditch me for pot-lucks!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAjuqRNK_MI/AAAAAAAAANo/mspbbW70gWY/s1600/angry2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAjuqRNK_MI/AAAAAAAAANo/mspbbW70gWY/s320/angry2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478891356636773570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-4200514976123033453?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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A key-chain with the picture of a couple in love. I thought it was romantic. My boyfriend thought it was romantic too. That's why he carries the key-chain I got for him with his car keys and takes it with him everywhere he goes. But apparently there are those who do not like this idea. There are those who probably think this is a romantic idea but feels a tad bit jealous. I don't know, whatever it is, please lah keep your jealousy to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact of the matter is, I am with him and he is with me. We have no idea what the future holds, maybe we'll get married, maybe we won't. Only God knows. But one thing we know right now is that we both love each other and we are together. In an effort to be polite, kindly back off. Sesiapa yang tidak berkaitan tu tolonglah dengan segala hormatnya stop crossing the line. Whatever feelings you may be having for him, will you kindly keep it to yourself? He obviously doesn't feel the same way, so all you're doing is making a fool of yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point in my life, I am beginning to despise women over 40 who are constantly scheming, manipulating and trying to make me lose my mind. Bukan satu ja woman over 40 that is giving me heartache right now, there's more than one. So I think I can safely draw this conclusion: They are jealous of the fact that I am single, never been married, have no baggage and I am at the prime of my life. But the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;THREE&lt;/span&gt; ultimate reasons of jealousy has to be these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;Number One:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAi3nlHqXtI/AAAAAAAAANQ/BytBJe6OI54/s1600/Black-Supermodel-Tyra-Banks-26.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 253px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAi3nlHqXtI/AAAAAAAAANQ/BytBJe6OI54/s320/Black-Supermodel-Tyra-Banks-26.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478830837303238354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:180%;" &gt;THIN&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;TALL&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I may not have the looks but I know how to &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;work it&lt;/span&gt;!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;Number &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;Two:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAi6vZKziII/AAAAAAAAANY/JrHwdqEvBc8/s1600/catherine_zetajones_and_michael_douglas_1138131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAi6vZKziII/AAAAAAAAANY/JrHwdqEvBc8/s320/catherine_zetajones_and_michael_douglas_1138131.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478834270069033090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;young&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. 'Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;And Number Three:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAi7I7mezqI/AAAAAAAAANg/ozucIPUz2HE/s1600/500full-audrey-hepburn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAi7I7mezqI/AAAAAAAAANg/ozucIPUz2HE/s320/500full-audrey-hepburn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478834708808650402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've got the &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;elegance&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;style&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So those are the conclusions I came up with. It has to be. Otherwise, why are they so eager to menyebok with my life? Aku tak kacau orang pun. I'm just a girl, who met a guy and fell in love with him. Yang korang ni nak jealous apahal? Ramai lagi laki kat luar tu. Silalah pi memancing kat tempat lain. Please lah, stop giving me headaches. Why must you keep hoping and hating me in the process?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, I kinda feel good because they are jealous. I mean come on, what else can it be, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a piece of advice: Just stick to being his friend and try to accept the fact that he's taken. It will make life easier for you, him and me. At this point, I am hating you to the point of sheer resentment. Go away. Now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-4560110564494697424?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/189ZEcLsnQFexBU7i-1u-GFol38/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/189ZEcLsnQFexBU7i-1u-GFol38/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/nPVEeGwjqaw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/4560110564494697424/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/06/is-that-act-or-were-you-born-obtuse.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/4560110564494697424?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/4560110564494697424?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/nPVEeGwjqaw/is-that-act-or-were-you-born-obtuse.html" title="Is that an act, or were you born obtuse?" /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAilEKn_e0I/AAAAAAAAANI/ywKuTaPLOYw/s72-c/EB+keychain.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/06/is-that-act-or-were-you-born-obtuse.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ACQ3g-cCp7ImA9WxFWFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-922052290734639438</id><published>2010-06-02T02:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T02:42:42.658-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-02T02:42:42.658-07:00</app:edited><title>I've said it before, I'll say it again....</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;not&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;having&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;a&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:180%;" &gt;good&lt;/span&gt; day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAYjhHVCcrI/AAAAAAAAAM4/Z9tLFAYvPXQ/s1600/bad_day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAYjhHVCcrI/AAAAAAAAAM4/Z9tLFAYvPXQ/s320/bad_day.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478105048552731314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;That pretty much sums up how I'm feeling today.... Terrible but still trying to keep my head up. So it'll be another weekend of moping around, watching Cosby reruns and eating take-outs. I go to the office from Monday-Friday, hoping that on the weekends I will get to unwind and do things I like with the person I love. But this will be the 3rd weekend in a row that his work is preventing us from spending time together. Perhaps I should be more understanding and not throw a fit, but I can't help but feel a little upset. Okay, maybe a lot upset. It doesn't help that this work thing also involves her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;Urgghhhhhh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;no&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;like&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Maybe I am behaving a tad bit irrationally but even if I put aside the fact that I don't like her, he'll still be busy with work, and I still don't get to see him. Now that is an even bigger me no like! The weekends are all I have. Nak harap suruh dia take me along on these business meetings, no way lah kan, since that minah already said she has no intentions of seeing me. Grow up la! If I'm okay with seeing you, and I hate you, shouldn't you accord us the same courtesy? Mengada sangat apahal? Lagi aku nak mengamuk macam ni. I am the one who doesn't like you, I am the one who bitched about you on my blog, now you pulak nak mengada tak nak see me and all. I am fine with seeing you. I don't care. I still stand by all the things I said, and I don't mind being in the same room with you. Tapi kenapa you pulak nak mengada? Seriously, does the word maturity ring any bells?! At least if I don't get to spend time with him doing the normal dating stuff, at least if I get to be with him during these meetings pun dah okay lah. But noooooooo Madam NZ tak suka. Bull shit lah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAYnQUuhAOI/AAAAAAAAANA/KvTqpobUjbM/s1600/you_suck.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 198px; height: 261px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAYnQUuhAOI/AAAAAAAAANA/KvTqpobUjbM/s320/you_suck.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478109158137987298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-922052290734639438?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yQSRXEiyHArtCzXpUyoNpdzHsjg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yQSRXEiyHArtCzXpUyoNpdzHsjg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yQSRXEiyHArtCzXpUyoNpdzHsjg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yQSRXEiyHArtCzXpUyoNpdzHsjg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/4To9qs8VAUI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/922052290734639438/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/06/ive-said-it-before-ill-say-it-again.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/922052290734639438?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/922052290734639438?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/4To9qs8VAUI/ive-said-it-before-ill-say-it-again.html" title="I've said it before, I'll say it again...." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAYjhHVCcrI/AAAAAAAAAM4/Z9tLFAYvPXQ/s72-c/bad_day.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/06/ive-said-it-before-ill-say-it-again.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MARXs5eSp7ImA9WxFWE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-4284532416925301156</id><published>2010-06-01T04:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T04:24:04.521-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-01T04:24:04.521-07:00</app:edited><title>The New Cosby Show....</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TATts1SulJI/AAAAAAAAAMg/MRY1eWX7VAc/s1600/d24a27d99b101aa172.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 401px; height: 264px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TATts1SulJI/AAAAAAAAAMg/MRY1eWX7VAc/s320/d24a27d99b101aa172.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477764401265022098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I must say the afro does look good on me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-4284532416925301156?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/COIPuv0tKa4kj62xX5-J3sZ_wwg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/COIPuv0tKa4kj62xX5-J3sZ_wwg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/COIPuv0tKa4kj62xX5-J3sZ_wwg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/COIPuv0tKa4kj62xX5-J3sZ_wwg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~4/iVLosnNRJyo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.farahharith.com/feeds/4284532416925301156/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.farahharith.com/2010/06/new-cosby-show.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/4284532416925301156?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449730062153304186/posts/default/4284532416925301156?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/farahharith/pdjM/~3/iVLosnNRJyo/new-cosby-show.html" title="The New Cosby Show...." /><author><name>Farah Harith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04772334751313450154</uri><email>farahharith@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="10997443010127510764" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TATts1SulJI/AAAAAAAAAMg/MRY1eWX7VAc/s72-c/d24a27d99b101aa172.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.farahharith.com/2010/06/new-cosby-show.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUBSXozcCp7ImA9WxFWE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449730062153304186.post-7122151627473528343</id><published>2010-05-31T02:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T04:10:58.488-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-31T04:10:58.488-07:00</app:edited><title>Things that make me go aaaahhhh......</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Things that make me go aaaaahhhh and realize that life is beautiful, after all.... We kick it off with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;the man&lt;/span&gt; who drives me crazy and makes me happy all at the same time. The man who makes me laugh with his silly jokes, the man who isn't afraid of making funny faces and getting down on one knee in public just to put a smile on my face. The man who sings so beautifully and lulls me with &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Tidurlah Permaisuri&lt;/span&gt; over the phone before I go to bed (although he can never get the whole lyrics correct!). The man who peels off &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;kulit rambutan&lt;/span&gt; and throws away the biji for me, not just one rambutan but enough to fill a tupperware! The man who feeds me food at the kedai mamak when I'm just being too mengada or too lazy to lift a finger. The man I call my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Hang &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Tuah&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOMxyCLqXI/AAAAAAAAAKg/FMnJ7dxhTdg/s1600/P1010869.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOMxyCLqXI/AAAAAAAAAKg/FMnJ7dxhTdg/s320/P1010869.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477376358685059442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here we have the tupperware of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;rambutan&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOWUVFRFDI/AAAAAAAAAKo/Fvyu9PjUeUE/s1600/P1010870.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 170px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOWUVFRFDI/AAAAAAAAAKo/Fvyu9PjUeUE/s320/P1010870.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477386847813440562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Next on the list of things that make me go aaah is something that some might say is a cliche but it still makes my heart go &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;pitter patter&lt;/span&gt;, especially when it is delivered straight to the office to an unsuspecting me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOWbDhVt9I/AAAAAAAAAKw/6ReBXZT9eSo/s1600/6252_215301575060_789115060_7860536_243077_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 236px; height: 177px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOWbDhVt9I/AAAAAAAAAKw/6ReBXZT9eSo/s320/6252_215301575060_789115060_7860536_243077_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477386963358431186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now we have my weak spot. Something I just cannot say no to. The world's most wonderful &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;sweetness in a cup&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOXRSHdqfI/AAAAAAAAALg/_TVAxsfFl70/s1600/P1020249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 126px; height: 169px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOXRSHdqfI/AAAAAAAAALg/_TVAxsfFl70/s320/P1020249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477387894989367794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What is life without music? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Hard Rock Cafe&lt;/span&gt; is one of the places in KL I simply adore. It still plays ol' skool stuff like Born To Be Wild and Smoke On The Water and it satisfies my inner yearning for a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;big bad Harley&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOWp_ZO2MI/AAAAAAAAALA/26HRy9JKq18/s1600/P1020137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 176px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOWp_ZO2MI/AAAAAAAAALA/26HRy9JKq18/s320/P1020137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477387219948722370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Next on the list is my other &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Happy Place&lt;/span&gt; in KL. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Schokolart&lt;/span&gt; at Solaris, Mont Kiara. It's a place that puts a smile on my face; the manager is a super nice dude, he already knows me and my friends and we always have fun there especially when we order this delectable &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;"&gt;Twosome Chocolate&lt;/span&gt; dish.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOWzEwnb8I/AAAAAAAAALI/79q_T109zSA/s1600/P1010882.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 158px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOWzEwnb8I/AAAAAAAAALI/79q_T109zSA/s320/P1010882.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477387376007802818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And for those nights when I'm feeling a &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;pinch of melancholy&lt;/span&gt;, what else is a girl to do but feel the love in the company of my &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Ramlee&lt;/span&gt;. Thanks to my sweetheart who taught me how to play this instrument; what was once just a distant dream is now a reality. All through my childhood days I used to take my dad's guitar and strum aimlessly, but now I can already make &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;sweet music&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOW7raMpCI/AAAAAAAAALQ/efww9yUzLTg/s1600/4309_172947955060_789115060_6786521_3091863_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 166px; height: 222px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOW7raMpCI/AAAAAAAAALQ/efww9yUzLTg/s320/4309_172947955060_789115060_6786521_3091863_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477387523821708322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another Happy Place that makes me go aaaahhh will always be &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;KLCC&lt;/span&gt;. A place that has created so many memories for me throughout the years. Although I hardly go there these days, a smile will always break on my face whenever I pass by it or when I look at it from the parking lot of my office, all &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;lit up beautifully&lt;/span&gt;, smiling down at the citizens of KL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOXGsQo4RI/AAAAAAAAALY/z1euSdgemrA/s1600/P1020225.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 206px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOXGsQo4RI/AAAAAAAAALY/z1euSdgemrA/s320/P1020225.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477387713028612370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And of course, something that is &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;close to my heart&lt;/span&gt;, and will always make me go aaaah is none other than &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;mi familia&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOX005dP9I/AAAAAAAAALo/OrcjhAuz9Ms/s1600/family2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 219px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rgZizCrxlZM/TAOX005dP9I/AAAAAAAAALo/OrcjhAuz9Ms/s320/family2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477388505621282770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449730062153304186-7122151627473528343?l=www.farahharith.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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