|
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
HOME | ABOUT THE GUBER | GUESTBOOK | ARCHIVES | SUBSCRIBE | CONTACT THE GUBER |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
CATEGORIES ::
> Blah! > Movies, Music, Guitars & Comics > Fiction
BLOOD, SWEAT N' TEARS ::
> Y2k > Ciplak
ONLINE PRESENCE ::
> MySpace > Flickr
FRIENDS' BLOGS ::
> Albert > Az > Cynthia > Debbie > Eddy > Effigy > Izuwan > Jordan > Kevin > Pete Teo > Rina > Shelley
|
I'm sorry, 20six. I really am. We've had some great times and you've been with me for almost five years, but the truth is, I don't think it's working out anymore. There've been so many times when I've needed you and you weren't there and all I get in return is 'server too busy'. We can't connect anymore, you and I. Not like we used to. I've... I've found someone else. Someone who's not as fast as you were back in the day but with a lot more to offer. And that someone is never too busy. That someone is called Tera, and her pad is a lot nicer. I know it's hard. Saying goodbye always is. But, if you're in the neighborhood, do drop by. You can find me by clicking here. All the best, 20six. We had a good run. At least I got to write a post on you one last time, even if it is to tell you that I've moved on. Take care, and don't let the annal fissure disturb you too much. - Justin Guber If you've somehow ended up at this blog because of the title and were looking for some good ol' Alisha Klass butt-banging frolics, my apologies, but I just put that title up because I couldn't think of anything else. Stick your cock back in your pants and go find something else to wank about. Unless you wank about the writings of a pensive man. If this is so, again, please put your cock back in your pants. If you're a woman, though, that is a different story, and... Hmmm. I digress. Back to the plot. So some of you have been wondering what's been going on with the Guber. True, I used to write a shit load more back in the day, and as the year closed in to 2008 whatever random bursts of writings that would have popped up almost vanished into nothingness. Well, there's a reason for that... ...and I'm not going to tell you. Now, there's often been a few things that I'm not willing to tell you good folks about. Not many, but there have been a few occasions when this was so. This is one of those occasions. Perhaps in the near future I will let you all know, once things are set in stone and officially official, but until such time, I'm keeping schtum. What I will say is this: things are better. Much better. I didn't think they'd get better, but the change was pretty much instantaneous. 2008 has brought forth some incredibly drastic changes in my life, but changes that are all for the better. I am reborn, recharged, re-educated and ready to rock out with my cock out. Not literally, of course. If anything, the events that have led up to this fateful year of our lord 2008 has been nothing short of insurmountably mental, but it's the fuckups in life and the way we handle them that leave us less fucked. And I'm sure there was a less profane way of saying the above, but the adage still stands. ...Shit, what does 'adage' mean again? A carmaker conflict has caused NBC to hire Val Kilmer to replace Will Arnett as the voice of KITT on its "Knight Rider" revival. Arnett ("Arrested Development" Problem is, Arnett had a contractual conflict of interest. For the better part of a decade, Arnett has done voice-over work for General Motors -- as the voice of GMC Trucks. NBC's new "Knight," however, is "played" by a Ford Mustang. What's more, Ford isn't simply providing cars for "Knight Rider." It's taking an active role in the marketing and branding of the pic, a backdoor pilot for a possible series. Ford's logo even appears all over NBC's on-air promos for the pic. Not surprisingly, when GM found out about the Ford connection, it asked Arnett to pull out. "I was very excited at the prospect of playing the part of KITT in the new 'Knight Rider' movie," Arnett said. "However, because of a long relationship with General Motors as the voice of GMC Trucks, I had to respectfully withdraw from the project." While NBC and Universal Media Studios will have to scramble to replace Arnett's dialogue with Kilmer's work, the upside is landing a well-known name for the part. In addition to his roles in pics such as "Batman Forever," "Heat" and "Top Gun," Kilmer has done plenty of voice-over work, including the voice of Moses in 1998's "The Prince of Egypt." Carnacki on Wikipedia - a ficitional supernatural detective created by William Hope Hodgson in the beginning of the twentieth century. Mental note: find some of the stories. Torchwood Season 2 Promo - Never got into the first season (didn't really get a chance to check it out) but the promo for this second season's got me intrigued. Especially with James Marsters in the mix (I'm a Buffy fan, I can't fucking help it). Interesting how they used his British accent (which, I must admit, had me fooled for most of Buffy until he said 'poofter' in a way Brits don't usually pronounce it). Malaysian Timeline, World Archives: Malaysia and Wikipedia: History of Malaysia - Well, I've got to learn it at some point, don't I? I was googling my random googles when I remembered some of the reasons why this blog came into fruition and what I intended of it. I first started it as a place to type out my memories and small little bits of fiction. I remember who I was going out with at the time, too (but we shan't mention her). I remember starting this blog in Subang, and writing posts about my cat when I was a child and my love for Back to the Future. A while later and the blog was almost forgotten, until I started work at Grey. I looked up the blog account again, saw it was still active, and started writing again. I was pretty much inspired by Warren Ellis' blog, especially his comment on how he sticks whatever he comes across on the net or gets e-mailed on his blog, and how this all fuses into an idea for his writing. Being in a working environment, I kept getting mailed some incredibly weird shit, most of which ended up on the 'Shocking Asia' section of the blog. I then started using it to pimp out my gigs, bands and movies, occasionally writing my own personal thoughts and little snippets of ficiton wherever I saw fit. And then I started slowing down. Life, to me, seems to be lacking in focus at the moment. I find myself in a state where I even checked out 'Death Clock' to see when I'll most likely clock it (the answer is 2046, apparently. Even my date of death is movie related). I'm slowly pulling myself out of this, getting little nuggets of ideas to flesh out, but this lack of focus is killing me, making it harder and harder to be excited about life in general. My usual sarcasm, cynicism and impromptu randomness of my past entries is more and more lacking as time passes by. Sigh... I need a jolt. A thunderbolt. A big, fat kick up the back side. I need a push, a shove, some fire in the furnace. A tune-up, perhaps even an overhaul, a route on a map, a destination to get to. I need inspiration, motivation, aspirations and perspiration. I need a reason. Or maybe I just need a big, fat line of coke. I wasn't even looking at the time. I didn't have too. As soon as midnight rolled around to usher in the brand spanking new year the fireworks set off with a bang into the night sky and crowds outside whooped and cheered and shouted and yelled in merriment. Not me. I've been very pensive, of late. I've never like the months between September and February as it is usually the time of the year when I'm at my most negative. The worst period of this was probably in the winter months between 2000 and 2001. Winter in London means the sun rises late and sets early, and I always seemed to fall asleep just as the sun came up and wake up just as it went down, leaving me a vampire, roaming the night, pensive. The lack of sun, the loneliness and the events that unfolded during that time (which shall not be mentioned to protect the innocent, including myself) left me an emo wreck, listening to the Deftones' "White Pony" album on repeat within the confines of my room. Here, the sun is bright and shinning, but I find myself, over the past few months, following a similar routine. I don't sleep till 4am, sometimes as late/early as 6.30am, and I find myself waking up later and later. On the final day of the year 2007, I woke up at 4.30pm. I slept earlier that day at 7am. 2007 was quite the sporadic year, as far as blog entries went. The posts were few and far between and usually took the form of some kind of pimping of whatever endeavor I was involved in at the time. Was this because I was busy? Perhaps. For the first half of the year, perhaps. But I've been busier. At the height of my blog entries, I was working an advertising job whilst also recording an album and shooting a movie. That was almost three years ago. The truth is, I didn't know what to write. The reason I have this blog is not just to pimp out my increasing number of endeavors, but to write what's on my mind. I'd find a comfy place to plug in my wifi card in my (now ancient) laptop and type away, lost in the realm of words, the keyboard my conduit. But the places are not comfy anymore, and the words aren't coming to me. The mind is in a maze and the heart is in knots. Things are wibbly-wobbly indeed. I hope it's not the same for you. ... ...great fucking way to start the first post in this blog for 2008, huh? Pray for something weird to come my way. Like a herd of wilderbeast or something. Go on. Do it for daddy. I have less than seven minutes left on the internet terminal with extortionate prices at the St. Giles hotel near Tottenham Court Road, so we shall make this post quite brief: Checked into dodgy youth hostel called the Generator that hadn't had hot water for a month and froze our buttocks off as the guard shushed us whilst we smoked outside. Proceeded to play at Camden Underworld and got into super finals at Electric Ballroom. Directors of GBOB Malaysia put us up in St. Giles hotel, where hot water is in abundance. Made friends with people of many countries and pissed off a sassy black lady when she ran into my cigarette. Caught up with old friends such as Ramteen who I have known since I was twelve. Snored like a baby Godzilla. Didn't win the super finals, but fuck it, we got to play at the Electric Ballroom and had a blast. Tonight, I go to Kul's place to stay for my remaining nights and we shall paint the town red down the east end. Tonight is when it happens. Tonight, we dine... in Brick Lane. Possibly. It was sometime in the late afternoon at our terminal in the Bahrain airport, when we ran into trouble. They were never told that there was a group from Malaysia going to London to perform, and this did not sit well with them. Somewhere behind me an African with a curious looking passport was being hassled. "Why are you going to London?" asked the Hazamat looking customs official. "I can go wherever I want," said the Big Boi-looking African, "it is my business where I go!" He was pulled to the side. We were pulled to another side. Myself and my bandmates, two people from the organizing comittee of the Global Battle of the Bands in Malaysia (otherwise known as GBOB), numerous people from Astro and two winners of a competition to follow us to the show - a young Chinese man, his first time flying out of the country, and the Silent Cancer of the first runner ups, Revenge. We had our papers, we had our visas, there was no reason for stopping us, but Hazamat would not allow it. Not until he had heard it straight from the horses mouth. One month ago my band Y2k won the GBOB. It was totally unexpected, to say the least. We thought we hadn't performed as best we could, but somehow the gods of rock looked kindly towards us, and gave us safe passage to London to compete in the finals. Or so we thought. Hazamat looked through our letter of invitation from the London office of the GBOB. He dialled the number and got his confirmation, cursing to himself as he did so. "Ask them why they didn't fax us!" said his colleague. But it was too late. They had to let us pass, onto the plane where we would have to endure cramped seats and recycled air for another eight hours and where I would also end up spilling water all over my crotch and snore uncontrollably. I realize I sound negative. This is not the mood becoming of someone who lady luck has decided to deem worthy of going to another country to play a gig, and not just any country. The land where I once lived, and studied, and did silly things. Now I was going back to rock out with my cock out, so why should I be so negative? Because of the water. I am typing this from the Generator Hostel on Tavistock Place. The weather in London is cold, even colder with the wind-chill. Our room is a tiny closet with bunk beds, green and blue walls and a very large number over the door resembling a prison cell-block. I am not a number. I am Y2k. But even this doesn't bug me. What bugs me is the water. Namely, hot water. Or, as is the case with us, the lack of. Yes, there is no hot water, and no one in this hostel, not one of the hundreds here, have taken a proper, comfortable shower. Those that have, have not enjoyed it. Like my guitarist, Hermano Grande. He braved the cold, freezing shower at 5.30am, unable to sleep, numbing himself with the negative degrees of celcius just so that he could cleanse himself. I opted for scrubbing just my armpits, itself a difficult and painful endeavour. And don't get me started on the nether regions. We have no hot water and are surrounded by frenchmen. God help us. |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
had already completed his part for the pic, which is slated to debut on NBC in less than two weeks. Producers Doug Liman, Dave Bartis and Dave Andron -- along with the network and studio -- were all fine with his performance.