I can’t say what I want to say freely and therefore defeat the purpose of blogging as I have been using this medium as my diary.

Now how do I shut this URL down? Arrgghhh.. may-day may-day…there is nothing on this in PC for Dummies.. aaarrggghhh…

You guys been great!

Take care, my online friends. Me lurve you long time….

Currently listening to Bila Cinta Berakhir – Ella & The Boys

This is a further testament that sex, relationship and cycling when package together sells. Add that with poor grammar, noun, verb, adjectives, tense et cetera et cetera makes an ideal 3rd world trashy read.

Theroadie pledges better quality control in the future by reading his blog at least once before posting to minimise grammatical and spelling error.

Theroadie would like to say thank you to everyone for reading and commenting his blogs.

Theroadie would also like to thank Bill Gates for having the thesaurus function in Microsoft Word. This has made it possible for theroadie to occasionally come up with big words e.g., inebriate, narcissistic. (Please do not ask him to pronounce these big words)

I had a rather long caffeine session with a friend who had just come out from a marriage. I usually would decline such alcohol-free session as my life has enough trials and tribulation sans others. (okay this is me trying to be an intelligent writer instead my usual slapstick style) I rather watch an action movie on a Saturday afternoon or battle Fitness Tan on the squash court.

I have this inherent sense of duty to all the soon-to-be and new divorcees to pace them back into the single life. I did my tour-of-duty and the philantropist in me needed to impart wisdom and experience in such matters. Before letting the old tiger back into the wild, I have to debrief him what to expect and the dangers and pitfall of the wild.

From my experience as the “consolieri” to these tigers, one thing that they all have in common are the desire to go hunting  and devour red meat of the wild. They pledge to date women both young an old; to wine and dine them; and to bed them. As senior “consolieri” I hear this pledges all the time.

Most of these old tigers will not actually do anything of that sort. When they are in the thick of the action, they end up hiding behind the bushes. One example would be to cite our many futile trips to Rumah Peranakan or better known as RP especially amongst flight attendants, old swingers and middle aged divorcees. But that is for another time.

I suppose they are many forms of rebound. As for me I fell in love with every girl I meet. Even the toll booth operator at Phileo Damansara. I fell in love with the idea of being in love. I text messaged poems, email long love letters and send flowers. I scared the shit out them. Those women must have thought that I got hit by a Cupid missile. Interesting topic for later blogging pleasure would be, how long does a rebound last.

On the superficial level, I feel like telling him to just stop talking about “doing it” and that I am getting weary of his endless claims of bravado. But on the inside I know that he feel lost, confused, afraid and alone. I have been there too.

Instead, for hours I sat there and participated in the endless banter about getting laid.

After experiencing a game of squash with Fitness Tan, I herewith resolve to never belittle any buffed up guy’s ability to play racket sports ever again.

They are not as stiff as they look and yes, the bulging thighs, chest, shoulder and biceps are not just for show.

The űber-cyclist versus buffy the beefcake in a game of squash? Pffftt.. no contest. William Hill wouldn’t even want to take this on. I was Jahangir Khan in my past life for god sake.

These Malek Noor descendents don’t even know what nimble means. Its payback time for the times they called us sissy in front of Reebok-clad women in the gym.

*******

Instead I got beaten to a pulp.

In the fourth set I became delusional. I swear Fitness Tan was wearing pink ballet shoes with matching leggings. He moves around the court like a ballerina but hit the ball with so much power. It was a massacre.

It is true the muscle for cycling is different than running. I also realised that for many years now, my upper body had not been exercising. The upper body was snoozing while the lower body worked the pedals.

Cycling is about establishing a steady rhythm to maximize energy output. These legs are not use to react when Fitness Tan alternate his strokes from slow drop shots to fast cross court shots.

Legs: Apa itu bola hitam kecik, boss?

Me: Jangan cakap banyak. Kejar itu bola.

Now my calf, hamstring, stomach, chest, shoulder, bicep, triceps, neck are all aching.

x

As part of the Hari Ini Dalam Sejarah (nostalgia month) I like to blog about music between 1990 to 1992.  At the end of 89’, Theroadie graduated from high school and passed his driving test. The 17 years 7pm curfew (referred back then as Zaman Kecemasan) lifted. And he inherited a 4WD petrol guzzling tortoise mistakenly purchased for his mom by his dad about a year earlier.

If you don’t have the following cassettes in the car,

Bobby Brown – Good Enough

Natalie Cole – It’s good to be back

Keith Sweat – his second album

Charles & Eddie – Would I lie to you

PM Dawn – Set Adrift The Memory Bliss

Baby, baby, baby – Amy Grant

you are not cool with the women. And back then, you’d sell your own grandma to be cool with the women. You go to the clubs in your one size bigger 501s, big black belt and white tees. The beats are smooth and deep bass. You kick back and move your head slightly with the beat. Its all about being cool.

And when theroadie got shipped out to the land of sauerkraut, schnitzel und bier, he was blown away by the European club scene. Control macho was no longer in. You got to be as hyper as MC Hammer and have cardio endurance like Jamie Lee Curtis.

Dub be good to me – Beats International

Unfinished sympathy- Massive

Gonna make you sweat – C&C Music Factory

Groove in the heart – Dee Lite  

Everybody, everybody – Black Box

I reckon Black Box defined the dance music back in 1990. They were the institution. Everyone in there wore Hugo Boss shirts. You won’t miss it even if you are blind as Stevie Wonder. It had the word BOSS embossed on their shirt you can see all the way from Moscow. “!%@$#@%!# I am wearing a Hugo !^#$#^@ Boss god damn it kind of statement”

And when you are not in the clubs, The Black Crowes and Happy Monday were the bombs. His particular favourite were Jealous and Kinky Afro respectively. And when he wanted to woo this particular greek girl he fancied, he played his Johnny Gill.  “My, my, my, my, my, my, you sure look good tonight”. Unfortunately Miss Extra Virgin Olive Oil did not understand a word of English.

When theroadie found himself in the land of fish& chips, lager n prozac provoking rain a year later; the cool London clubs played RnB and hip hop. It was all about

Naughty by Nature – OPP

I like the way (Kissing game) – Hi Five

Jump – Kris Kross

Finally – Ce Ce Peniston

Ebeneezer Goode – The Shamen

Everyday people - Arrested Development

Sensitivity – Ralph Tresvant

And that summer and every summer since, DJ Jazzy Jazz and the Fresh Prince “Summertime” became the summer anthem. “School is out and there’s some sort of buzz…”

And between 1991 to 1992 – rock got back into theroadie’s life. Guns N Roses, Stone Temple Pilots, Radiohead, and Pearl Jam. Going to Lenny Kravitz concert was an eye opener. “Mr Cab Driver, he refuse to pick me up coz of my colour. Mr. Cab Driver, fuck you I’m a survivor”. I relegated my Tevin Campbell like paisley shirts into the suitcase and made G n R Get in the ring muthafucker tshirt my uniform.

Summer of 92 found theroadie in KL and the Boom-Boom Room, Base, DV8 and these clubs were playing

SWV – I am into you

SWV - Weak

TLC – Baby, baby, baby

Boyz II Men – Motownphilly

Silk – Freak me

Dr. Dre – Nothing like a G thang

Monica – Don’t take it personal (Just of dem days)

Duran-Duran – “that song lah”

“I get so weak in the knees I can hardly….” Oooh theroadie loved SWV. And the first time a girl broke his heart into a thousand pieces, his mom bought him a packet of cigarette everyday because his once cool son couldn’t move and was terbanggak (stumped) in front of the mirror. He got a copy of Tevin Campbell’s album and played the song “Goodbye” about one and the half billion times for about a year until another girl broke his heart into another thousand pieces.

We shall close roadie’s Pandora Box before this blog becomes a long, time wasting, read-halfway roadie’s self absorbing, self serving, self gratifying autobiography.

Ps. I know I should insert Cranberries Zombie & Isley Brother’s Summer Breeze somewhere…

This kind of rides used to excite me. This is the romance of cycling, when the road point up to the heavens. The pain. The heat. The battle between mind and body. And to share all this with your fellow mates.

Imagine you are on your bicycle or running up a hill and you find yourself out of breath and thighs aching. At that moment, imagine how your brain would react when it realised there’s another 30km to go or 3 hours before you can catch your breath and rest your aching limbs. It’s all about exploring and perhaps pushing even the limits both mind and body.

I’d be all worked up the night before and would always have trouble sleeping. But last Saturday night I found myself not being able to sleep for the wrong reasons. I was cringing. I was afraid. No, I was terrified. The thought of the suffering, the heat and reacting to attacks by those wanting my scalp filled me with dread. I didn’t have the stomach for it.

People started coming in after midnight. Don’t they have a day job? Zouk was packed. It was like a Friday night. 

The music was not as good as I expected. The deejay should have spin more 80s disco music. He looked kinda young. I guess he didn’t know what was playing at the clubs back then.  

I had a blast. I am going to miss my friends when I leave. Everyone was having fun flirting, chatting and dancing. Alcohol had something to do with it though.

I usually don’t dance. When you get to the third stage of intoxication, you think you are a dancer. I found myself on the dance floor when they put on Rick Astley. And I couldn’t stop dancing. I danced like an eel. I had no rhythm and no coordination. To compound my embarrassment, I did the robot dance. Thank god Mr. Deejay kept his Walk Like An Egyptian by The Bangles LP on the shelf. That would have been curtains for me.

I almost kiss my friend. She was a bit tipsy and a little flirtatious. And I was my usual self – a weak, cheap male slut.  I managed to keep my lips to myself. Thank god for that. Some men cannot maintain a platonic relationship with the opposite sex. And I am not one of them. Okay I might have stumbled a few times in the past but the overall percentage is still very good.

My friends are getting tired of these farewell dos. It is costing them money. They insist sending me to the airport when I do finally go.

Together forever and never to part
Together forever we two
And don't you know
I would move heaven and earth
To be together forever with you

I can’t get this tune out of my head.

So don't stop me falling
It's destiny calling
A power I just can't deny
It's never changing
Can't you hear me, I'm saying
I want you for the rest of my life

Tonight I am going to Mumbo-Jumbo @ Zouk. It’s the 80s night! So I am going to open up my old war chest and dig out my one-inch wide tie, bright red shirt, roll the sleeves up to my elbow, my pinstripe carrot-cut pants and black rubber soled shoes. Its time to boogie.

 The deejay better play one song from each of them below: 

1. Rick Astley


2. De La Soul


3. Teddy Pendergrass


4. Duran-Duran


5. Soul II Soul


6. Fine Young Cannibals


7. Neneh Cherry


8. Bomb Da Bass


9. Tears for Fears


10. Luther Vandross


11. Alexander O’Niell


12. George Michael


13. Terence Trent D’Arby


14. INXS


15. Depeche Mode


16. Spandau Ballet


17. Madonna


18.  Cameo


19. George Benson


20. Happy Mondays


21.  Oran Juice Jones


22.  Jody Watley

I have finally gotten rid of the car. Now I am without wheels.  I have to get use to this. I’ll be taking taxis when I am in Jakarta. I am not too bothered as they have better taxis then the ones we have here in KL.

I did the Friday prayers for the second consecutive week. It will start to snow soon I reckon. What’s next? Daily prayers? Maybe. I surprise myself sometimes.

I had happy hour drinks at Chinoz KLCC and sat overlooking my old office. It brought back memories of the yuppie days. Ah, the dotCom days. Many of us called it the MDC days, Lots of activities back then with the government pumping money into it only for us to piss it down the drain.

It was all about hitting numbers and closing deals. It does not matter if somebody was short changed or somebody got hurt. All is fair in love and war we used to say though I don’t think I added karma into the equation.  

We’d go to Chinoz to celebrate a good week or grief over a bad one. Last night over beer towers I was in the company of bankers. Not the high powered ones, just the young upstarts. Their cufflinks and starched collars looked a tad intimidating at first. But they are quite a laugh really.

I fail to keep to my promise of having just a tipple. Again. But I did get myself home before 12. On the way back I stopped for Ramly burger. Two beef patties wrapped in eggs, lots of margarine and mayonnaise. A sure one way ticket to IJN (or the Mayo Clinic if you are in America) or finishing last in the Criterium.

I have this bad habit of text messaging ex girlfriends, ex flings et cetera when under the influence. It can be quite annoying. I know because I too receive text messages from inebriated exes. Luckily for me my text messages are not nasty or suggestive. But it is still no excuse. Maybe I need to be in a relationship.

Commitment is not bad as some people think. That is, until, sex starts to fizzle out. And they always do. Hah! Just kidding.  Talking about the C word reminds me of a good friend of mine, GK. He would shudder and disappear into thin air if a woman utters that word. His sole focus is his career. Women are simply weekend activity.  I joked that he has to move South as he is running out of women in KL. And he’d mimic Jay-Z and say, “I’ve ninety nine problems but a bitch ain’t one”. I wonder if he would sing the same tune when he hit 45 and is the oldest bloke in the nightclub.

I got up early this morning for the Criterium race only to find out that it has been cancelled. A classic Malaysia National Cycling Federation (MNCF). They can’t do anything right. This weekend could be my last ride but there are problems with my work permit so I might be here a little while longer.