The joy of Fax...

As I was sending a fax to a hotel in Bali the other day, it suddenly dawned upon me how satisfying (on a physical, psychological and emotional level) it is to send a fax.

It all begins with typing out a document with ultra sexy formatting and using words like "Attention:", "Re:" and "To whomever it may concern". The document must fit on a single A4 page yet contain all of the necessary information, which means that some revisions are required to make it all much more concise and wonderfully elegant.

This is, of course, incredibly gratifying as I stare at the screen, alternating between "print preview" mode and editing mode whilst making little adjustments here and there to tart it up.

And once I'm done typing it, I print it on my inkjet printer, with the print-quality settings set at "Ultra High" and on high quality 80g A4 paper.

This Ultra High quality mode causes the print head caress the A4 paper ever so gently and with more passes per row of text as if laying more coats of much thinner paint to produce a fantastic finish. Or in this case, crisper text.

With printout in hand, I march towards the beckoning fax machine, sitting idly in the corner with a dim red glow emanating from its LED power indicator. I slot my A4 paper into its feeding tray (face down, of course), dial in the fax number and watch as the fax machine gently whispers cryptic modem strings over the telephone line to the fax machine on the other side.

And suddenly, the fax machine springs to life, sucking my A4 printout into its gigantic (yet wafer-thin) orifice while it hums. It's a low pitch hum. While it's almost inaudible from the outside of the house, it strongly resonates throughout the halls and corridors within, as it transmits bit and bytes across the copper wires - sending my lovingly crafted document to an eagerly awaiting receptionist on the other end.

HUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM...

And after the climax, the humble fax machine pipes down, ejecting my A4 printout from its nether regions. It lets out a faint beep and tells me that everything's ok through its LCD panel (to be precise, it says "Send OK").

I take my A4 printout, having served its purpose, crumple and toss it into the waste paper basket. While I've satiated my hunger for now, it'll be about 30 minutes before I long to send another fax.

hummmmmmmmmmm...

----------------------------

The problem with holidays is that you suddenly find yourself with a lot of free time and not much to do.

Silence, it can be stunning.

I was driving home just a couple of hours ago (around midnight) when it occurred to me that my car was being uncharacteristically silent. You see, it's normally a hell of a noisy beast when on the move - the slightest of surface undulations would normally send the car flying off at a tangent, resulting in all manner of squeaks, creaks and very worrying, metallic sounding "Clunk!" sounds. Oh, and they seemed to have forgotten to attach the suspension when it was on the assembly line.

So yes, it's put together like a typical Italian car. Which meant that it should've been really noisy considering that most of the roads leading to my house are dotted with small craters attempting to pass off as potholes.

But no. There was absolute silence. It was like a magic carpet ride.

The reason, of course, was that the potholes were no longer there. And the reason for that, of course, is that the roads have been paved. ALL of them.

And the reason that ALL of the roads have been paved is because the general elections are just around the corner and the federal government needs to show that it's actually running the country properly.

And to show that it is indeed running the country properly, they've decided to pave all the roads with glistening, fresh, black tarmac. Mmmmmm...

Never mind that the crime rate is soaring, that inflation is slowly turning my 50 ringgit notes into small change, and that for some reason, it has become socially acceptable for you to thrust a sword into the air during a political party general assembly while screaming some sort of battle cry - as long as our roads are paved, we're happy.

Now this is actually a good thing. I recently spent over 600 ringgit repairing my suspension (turns out there was one after all) after several years of driving into inverted speed bumps.

Want better roads? Vote for this guy!

But here's the thing.

The roads are only paved about once every five years, which coincides with the general elections (held every five years or so). Which is a problem because the roads normally deteriorate into the rut-infested variety after two years, which leaves us with about three years of shitty roads.

This means, of course, that unless we have general elections every two years we aren't going to get freshly paved roads every two years.

Which means, of course, that we must somehow get the government to hold general elections every two years.

And to do that, we must... must... erm... well you know. Yeah.










Sorry, but that's about as far as I thought. I do like the freshly paved roads, though.

World's greatest comb-over

Going bald? No problem - all you need is a hairdryer, a hairbrush, some hair wax and shitloads of patience (i.e. about 40 minutes of your time) to transform yourself from spud to stud...



Brilliant stuff, this.

I touched it!!!

Look what I got my grubby hands on today:

Hmm... shiny phone you've got there... hang on!


It's an iPhone!!! A real one! Not some origami thingy!


Yes, my sex appeal has gone up by 3.142%.

I am now God's gift to a woman again... (yes, that's singular, not plural)