What have I done?

For Sale: BR250 Nissan Skyline R34 GTT

2011-12-01T13:28:00.001+08:00

Hi,

Selling my car. Red R34 GTT. Price RM125k nego.

04/09
Manual transmission

Comes with:
Trust/Greddy FMIC
HKS Pod Filter
Nismo Thermostat
Blitz Aluminum Radiator
Sard Fuel Pressure Regulator
Sard Fuel Pump 235lph
Greddy Profec B Boost Controller
Apexi 'ciplak' Turbo Timer (works just fine)
Custom made straight pipe w/ Blitz Nur Spec muffler
Pivot Speed Meter V
HKS Hiper D Coilovers
Steel braided brake hose
Endless 500deg brake pads (front)
Endless 350deg brake pads (rear)

Ori GTR bumper
Ori GTR bonnet
Ori GTR spoiler
FRP GTR rear bumper
FRP GTR side skirts

Basically, I believe, all the things you need for the next step of upgrade (turbo, injectors, etc).

I also have the following which have not been installed:

Apexi Power FC
Z32 AFM

Price does not include these two, though I would think you might want it to complete the package :)

I can help arrange the loan through the 2nd hand car dealer that I dealt with when I got the car, but you would have to bear the cost.

Interested, PM or call/SMS me at 012 2000361.

When It Rains, It Poors... Too

2011-11-13T11:27:00.001+08:00

It rained again. This time the water came from the radiator instead of the sky.

I was driving to work one glorious Monday morning, enjoying my Airtrek, which was recently serviced. The car felt even better than when I first got it. After changing its muffler and tailpipe, plugging in the leaks in the manifold, and replenishing the oils, the Trek has a faster and smoother acceleration. The other noticeable difference was the gear change. I don't know how or why, but the lower gear changes are now more drawn out (???), i.e., it changes at a higher rev. Nevertheless, I am not complaining.

Thinking that the worst was over, I pushed the car a little bit harder, especially when the traffic that morning was relatively good. If ever there were any lingering doubts about the Airtrek, sans the fuel consumption, it was all erased, as I drove it through toll after toll... after toll.

Then, out from the book of automotive nightmares, the aircond started to heat up. I slowed down a bit to look at the gauges and, lo and behold, the water temp had shot up straight through my wallet! Immediately, I pulled over and turned off the engine. I popped the hood to inspect the damage and I could see the culprit - a broken radiator.

Plumes of steam billowed out from the crack at the top of the plastic/fiber top and the engine bay was splashed with hot, scalding magma... ok, it's not a volcano eruption, but, metaphorically, it probably had the same financial impact. Anyways, the engine bay had water marks all over it. I shook my head, praised Allah for this testing times, and called the tow truck.

Once at the workshop, the radiator was taken out and serviced. The top part was replaced and everything went back in by the end of the day. As a bonus, the mechanic actually solved one other problem I had, which was low idling.

I left few hundred Ringgit poorer, a missed day at work (yay!!!), but infinitely satisfied with how the Airtrek is finally shaping up into a functional and reliable family vehicle.

The aftermath of the radiator spring

Few days passed with nothing out of the ordinary. I was ready to put the troubles behind me and move forward to better days. Then, out from the book of automotive nightmares (hmm, where have I said this before), as I left the grocery store near my house, I noticed something amiss. The car was veering to the right. Immediately, I knew, the tire had gone.

I wobbled the car home. It wasn't a puncture from a stray nail for sure. I don't know how to explain it, but the tire... went off the rails, just like my mind was. Again, I praised Allah and for the next few days of the week, drove my Skyline to work - oh, what bliss!!!

Anyways, that weekend, I texted a friend for help. I had to replace the tires, so I wanted to go to a place that was credit card friendly and had competitive pricing. He took me to a place in Shah Alam (the City of Roundabout), where he demonstrated the merits of sending non-Mandarin speaking kids to Chinese school. I don't know how that had helped with the price negotiation, but I found it immensely useful to be able to communicate with other non-Bahasa Malaysia speaking countrymen.

I bought the second cheapest tires there were. At first, I wanted to just get two, but I took a gamble. I told the... guy... to swipe my beloved credit card for the price of four. If it got through, I would be going home with four brand spanking new tires (yay!!!), but if it didn't, I would gladly settle for just the two. Lo and behold, as if by divine intervention, a max-ed out credit card is never really max-ed out! Hahahahahahahahahaha!!!

Not funny.

I chose to go with a different profiled tires. Previously, I was using 235/40/18. I chose the 225/45/18 instead with hopes to improve the ride comfort. In terms of coolness, the new ones kick ass. Not only did it make the car seem lower, it looked like an absolute beast with its devilish thread pattern. Below are two pictures of before and after:

But my troubles didn't end there.

After the... guy... test drove the car around to check for the alignment, he came back telling me more heartbreaking news. Apparently, the new tires, the front left specifically, was rubbing against the suspension. As a fix, the... guy... told me that I had to use spacers - aghast!!! To make matters worst, the spacer looks exactly how a RM15 spacer should look like - CRAP!

I had no choice. I couldn't afford new rims, nor can I wait for better spacers, which had to be ordered - not that I was so keen on getting them. With great reluctance, I agreed for the... guy... to put them on, as I watched despondently from the side.

The next day, I happened to travel eastwards towards Janda Baik. I took the opportunity to 'test' the car with its new tires and the RM15 spacers. As expected, the car drove like how a car with RM15 spacer should drive like - CRAP! I could feel the vibrations through the steering wheel. It wasn't there before, so my guess was that it had to be the spacers.

So, I went back to the shop the next day and I tried my best to understand what he was trying to say about why the tires were hitting the suspension. I kept nodding to show that I understood what he was talking about, but, the truth is, I really didn't. Not until he demonstrated to me the issue.

He took my old tire and my new tire and laid them side by side. Theoretically, a 235 would be wider than 225, at least this is my understanding of simple mathematics. But... unfortunately, they're not. Take a look at the picture below:

The one on the right is my old tire. You can see that the new tire is slightly taller. That was why it was scrubbing the suspension. I can't explain it, can you?

Then I told the... guy... to take another 235/40/18 tire, just to complete the comparison. Look at the picture below:

Even when set at the furthest from the camera, the Federal 595 stood taller than the rest.

How can two tires with the same profile, but from different manufacturer have different width when both of them measure 235? Can someone explain this mathematical anomaly to me?

Anyways, thankfully, there was a solution to the problem. Camber screws.

*Phew*

So far, so good. The vibration's gone, the ride comfort slightly improved, dry grip seems to be good, and, for the most part, I am still able to use my credit card (yay!!!). It has been a tough November, but I know good things will come out of it, Insya Allah. Allah knows best.

But, for now, I hope that the rain would stop, even if it is just for awhile. I need the sun to shine again, because when it rains, it poors!!!

When It Rains, It Poors

2011-10-25T22:25:00.000+08:00

Lately, the sky has been opening up and we are seeing a lot of rain interspersed with days of intense heat. It has been causing a lot of havoc in certain parts of the world and, microscopically, a slight hassle in my daily routine. Rain every other day in the afternoon results in exacerbated jams, during rush hour no less. Cars become dirty and washing them is an exercise of futility.

However, I do like what rain brings along with it. Cooler temperature to name one. Excuse for running late for work or having longer lunch breaks can be another. Furthermore, calling in sick for catching a cold sounds more plausible than any other seasons in the year. Ironically, rain also increases the temperature of man's libido. The pitter pattering of water falling on rooftops coupled with the relentless drone of tropical rain can soften even the hardest of hearts and harden even the most flaccid of phallus. One can only long to be in bed (if one is in the office), all curled up with nature's best heaters - our significant other in their birthday suit - as the rain serves up the romantic procreation inducing ambience.

Regardless, rain is a blessing, if only you choose to see it that way.

As it turns out, rain is not the only thing that I had to deal with of late. Metaphorically speaking, recently, I was swept away by the deluge caused by the unexpected rain in my life. Just like any other flood, the aftermath of destruction was inescapable and destined to cause massive financial hemorrhage.

It all began with the Road Tax (RT) renewal back in September. The Airtrek, in recent months, have been the main transportation that ferries me to work during weekdays and doubles as the family mini bus on weekends. In terms of importance, it has leapfrogged BR240 and no amount of excuses in the world can convince the man of the house (my wife) that the RT cannot be renewed prior to expiry. So, I crunched the numbers and, eventually, was forced to burn a hole in my pocket. The RT set me back a couple of thousands, as the dark ominous clouds hovered over me.

Yet, even when I knew a storm was brewing, I did not prepare myself for the rainy days ahead. There was nothing much I could do given what I had at that time in terms of what I was able to save. The only recourse was, of course, a career overhaul, which in itself a concept that I was (am) struggling with. To say that I risked too much is an understatement.

So, when the rain inevitably came, in the form of the scheduled maintenance for the Airtrek, I was caught with my pants down. What started out as basic oil change and a redress of an existing idling problem suddenly became a torrent of issues.

First, the front discs were totally skimmed to the maximum limit of braking safety. I had not noticed the wear and tear of the Brembo disc when I purchased it used - not that I knew how anyway. My only reprieve was that I had a pair of spare Evo discs lying around in the house that bolts right into the Trekker. However, in doing so, I had to scrap my plan of using them on BR240 in the future.

Next, unbeknownst to me, all four brake pads were also worn out... totally worn out. I could have sworn that, last I checked, they still had life on them for another, say, 1- 2 months of daily use. When the mechanic showed me, they had mere millimeters left of the friction material. It then made sense as to why the car was squealing every time I applied the brakes. Since braking is paramount to safety, I had the pads changed to ones by Ferodo (not the Hobbit).

As if those weren't enough to make me fall flat on my face, the banana manifold was found to be cracked. Apparently, it is a common problem with low quality built such as the one that I have. The exhaust gas that flowed through it was seeping out giving the engine a lumpy characteristic, especially so during cold starts. In order to rectify the problem, the manifold had to be taken out and welded on to plug the holes. Even so, it was no guarantee that the problem will never happen again.

Just when I wanted to pick myself up, the monsoon rain kicked my ass back down again. Because the car was bought from a used car dealer, I did not have any information on its historical background. As far as the naked eye could see, it was as standard (minus the manifold) as an Airtrek could be. When the manifold was taken out, I had the mechanic inspect the turbo to see if it needed servicing. After all, the car had clocked 120k when I got it, it was safe to assume that a turbo refresh was in order. What he found out was that the turbo might have been tampered with judging from the housing and the mismatch of the bolting points. The clearest indicator had to be the actuator, which included an extra screw to elongate the shaft to the lever that controls it. To add salt to the open profusely bleeding wound, the actuator shaft was loose and had to be tightened up DIY style. I don't know how that would hold up in the long run, but I am just praying that it does so for years to come.

Last (yes, there's an end to all this!), the pipes inside the muffler were suspected to be broken based on the 'knocking' test. When the tailpipe was struck, an audible rustling sound could be heard coming from inside the muffler. Though there wasn't any other way to verify this besides dissecting the muffler, I had to rely on faith that it was what it was and that I wasn't being swindled at a time when I was at my most vulnerable. While a change in muffler was not urgent, I'd rather fix it for peace of mind.

Well, there you have it. All that on top of the compulsory engine oil, filter, and axle oil changes. It added up to quite a hefty bill and a permanent migraine. However, I do think it was a blessing that the problems were discovered before it was too late. At least, I get to address them properly to ensure that personal safety is not compromised. And I must say, driving the Airtrek now feels so much better, especially the brakes... I love my Evo Brembos. They bite so hard that it makes me think why I didn't put it on BR240 in the first place!

While I have to pick up from the financial devastation, this episode has really taught me a very valuable lesson and that is to always save for a rainy day. We will never know when it is going to be sporadic drizzles or an all out prolonged tropical thunderstorm. Best be prepared because sometimes... when it rains... it really poors!

Review: Porsche 997 Turbo... (the real "review")

2011-10-03T16:59:00.001+08:00

Ok. I was just kidding about the last entry. As far as first impressions go, the last 'review' captured exactly what I thought the Porsche 997 Turbo was. However, after much painful consideration, I've decided to not deprive you of the actual useless review with hopes that it will bring more traffic to this site and, eventually, make me... famous!

Now that I've dispensed with all the rubbish talk, let's get on to the real trash talking.

Sundays are usually reserved for the family. Unfortunately for me, last two Sundays, I had to scoot off to Putrajaya, spend time with a bunch of car nuts, and drive a Porsche 997 Turbo. Not the ideal way to finish the weekend, but what's a blogger to do? Sigh.

I could have been in bed with a pitched tent and an eager beaver, practicing the lost art form from the pages of an ancient Indian love tome. But noooo, I had to leave the house at 7am, drive my beloved BR240 at law breaking speed with the windows down through the Sunday morning traffic. Bummer.

The things I give up so that I can fill these pages with some essays of interest just because I know how much you guys (and gals) enjoy my writing... right? If that's not enough, then I was held against my will and coerced to drive the Porsche 997 Turbo. I mean... hello... it's not like I've got nothing better to do on a Sunday morning than to drive a Porsche 997 Turbo, ok? Sheesh.

Porsche 997 Turbo... pffft... Yeah, sure... I drove a freaking Porsche 997 Turbo. Big deal. I'd rather be home doing the nasty than drive the the Porsche 997 Turbo.

Wait, have I mentioned that I drove a Porsche 997 Turbo? A freaking Porsche 997 Turbo? Hell yeah I did!!! Hahaha.

So, what was it like driving it? Boy... surreal would be a good description. I know to some of you, it's not that big a deal, but you have to look at it from my perspective. This is a RM600k car that, in all likeliness, may not find its way in my porsche (porch... geddit?) any time soon. When the opportunity presented itself to actually take it out for a spin, it was hard to refuse. Well... I refused the first time I was asked by the owner, but that was just to make sure that he knows what he was asking. Once I was sure that the owner knew that I will leave the country if ever I managed to crash the car, I accepted the car key with great composure and not a smidgen of excitement, even though my knees belied this by shaking uncontrollably.

Actually, I was probably awestruck. I've driven a similarly priced and equally powerful car, if not more, in the R35 GTR, but minus the jitters. This time around, I could not get a handle on myself, as breathing became short and almost suffocating. Every single sentence I spoke, while driving the 997 with the owner seated beside me, was done in one single breath, at which end, my face would turn white from the oxygen deficiency in my brain courtesy of my tendency to be superfluous.

I suppose I was a little bit shocked being asked to drive the car, really. I certainly didn't ask for it, which was weird in itself. Perhaps the owner thought that it was just reward for organizing the photoshoot... perhaps he felt guilty for turning up late, so he offered an olive branch in the form of this lovely Porsche.

Regardless, there probably was a certain respectability, subconsciously, that I have for it that caught me mentally off guard. It is not everyday you see such a car roaming the streets of KL as opposed to the relatively more common GTR and when you do get to see one, what more if you get to drive it, the sensory overload can be quite overwhelming.

Even so, thankfully, the shock and awe did little to impair my sublime driving skills. While I could not restrain my emotions, I handled the car with precision and panache. I made the straight Putrajaya Boulevard even more straight - if that ever was possible. As I approached the turn in one of the kazillion traffic lights, I decelerated, rolled down the window, stuck my arm out, and signaled to the car behind me of my intent to turn right. I then eased the car around the corner safely, probably much to the delight of the covering insurance company, and stepped on the gas once more, only to see a bunch of overenthusiastic cyclists overtake me.

I was that fast. :)

Jokes aside though, aesthetically, the 997 is very... effeminate. Apart from the monstrous brakes, nothing about it, in my humble opinion, has manly proclivities. The silhouette is instantly recognizable, a legacy from Porsche of old, refined and emasculated through the ages. Heck, even in the movie Cars, the Porsche was animated as a female, the love interest of Lightning McQueen. If you look at it from behind, it looks like a gigantic round ass that tapers to a svelte waistline. Throw in the flowing curves and the big round headlights, you would get an automobile representation of a woman... don't you think?

This is not to say that the 997 is a car for women. Far from it. Though it is easy enough to drive (even for me!), nonetheless, when that pedal hits that metal, all hell breaks loose. Unlike Gobiz's RB30 R32 GTR, I felt that the 997's power came in very early and less punishing. Even though I didn't get the chance to fully explore the extent of my cowardice, for that few seconds down the straight, I experienced the same kind of acceleration and horror as the R35 GTR I drove many moons ago. The 997 was really fast. Also, it didn't help that the speedometer was in MPH instead of KMPH because any conception of speed had to be multiplied by 1.6 so that I can get the accurate reading of how fast I was actually going. And before I knew it, I was already hitting above 100 kmph, in such a short space of time, in a car that dupes its passengers from the reality of its blistering pace. It's like being told by a woman that she's been faking it with you all this while - DEVASTATING!

(Please note I am only assuming that it would be devastating to receive news that contradicts one's perceived sexual prowess. Definitely not a true story on my part.)

Though I would have loved to drive the car a bit longer and further, I was hit hard in the face by the cold harshness of reality as I stepped out from the Porsche knees trembling. The car didn't just isolate me from its power and speed, but also from my own existence, if ever that made any sense. I was transported to a whole different world, a world that belongs to the rich. Like I alluded to in my previous satirical preview of this car, everything about it is daylight robbery. However, you do get what you pay for and the Porsche more than delivers on it's RM600k price tag.

With a Porsche, any Porsche I reckon, the mere mention of its name is able to get your speed juices flowing. You don't really need the extra blings to make it look more manly or go faster. It is perfect out of the box for a 2 door sports car; a perfect amalgamation between performance, drivability, and status. It looks simple yet elegant, like the dream girl that everyone wished they had, but just couldn't afford the price tag. It's more like a trophy wife than anything else and that's not all bad.

I can definitely see the appeal.

But then again, as I alighted the Porsche and walked towards my car, I realized that... not everyone wants a trophy wife. It works for some, may not for others. I happen to really like my 'wife'. Sometimes, all a man needs is just one good wife, no matter if she has rock hard suspensions that breaks your back or makes loud exhaust noises that makes you deaf or breaks down once in a while that brings tears to your eyes. It's about appreciating what you have.

Once we were done with the shoot and breakfast, I quickly went home to my beautiful family in a gorgeously dirty red Skyline, either of which I am eternally grateful for. Now, for an average hard working tax paying law abiding bloke like me... how surreal is that?

As surreal as driving a 997. :)

Special thanks to Nizam, Joey, and Nazli for participating in this shoot. For more pics, please visit awesomepowered.com.

Review: Porsche 997

2011-09-27T06:56:00.001+08:00

$$$$ $$$ $$$$$ $$$$ $$$ $$$$$$$$ $$$$ Porsche 997 Turbo $$$$$$ $$$$ $$$ $$$$$ $$$$$$$$$ $$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$ $$ $$ $$$$$. $$$$ $$$$$$$ $$$$ $$$$$$ $$$ $$$$ $$$$ $$$$$$$$$ $$ $$ $$ $$$$$. $$$$$$$ $$$ $$$$ $$$$ $$$ $$ $$$$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$!!!

$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$ $$ $$ $$$$$. $$$$ $$$$$$$ $$$$ $$$$$$ $$$ $$$$ $$$$ $$$$$$$$$ $$ $$ $$ $$$$$. $$$$$$$ $$$ $$$$ $$$$ $$$ $$ $$$$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$ $$$ 473bhp $$$ 620Nm $$ $$$$$ $$$$$$$$$. $$$$ $$$ $$ $$$$$$ $$$$$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$, $$$$ $$$$$$$$, $$$ $$$$$$$$$$.

$$$$$ $$$$ $$$$ $$$$$! Hehehehehe.

$$$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$$$ $$ $$$$$ $$$$$$$ $$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$$$$ $$$$. $$$$$ $$$$$$$ $$ $$$$$ $$$$$$$$ $$$$ $$$$$$ $$ $$ $$$$$$$. $$$$$$ $$$$$ $$$ $$$$ $$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$, $$$$$$, $$$ $$$$$$$$$ LOL!

$$$$$ $$ $$ $$$$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$$$$$ $$$$ $$$$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$ $$$$$$$$. $$$ $$$$$ $$$$$$$ $$ $$$$$$ $$$$$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$$$. $$$$$ $$$$ $$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$$$ $$$$$$ 0-100kmph $$ 3.4s! $$$$ $$ $$$$$$$$$$ $$$$$!!!!

$$$$ $$$$ $$$. $$$$, $$$$ $$$$ $$$$$$, $$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$$$$$$$ $$$$ $$$ $$ $$ $$$$. $$$$$$$$$$, $$$$$ $$$ $$$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$ $$ $$$$$$$$$ $$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$ RB30. :)

$$$$ $$$$$$$ $$$$ $$$$ $$$$$$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$.

For more information and photos of this 997, visit awesomepowered.com or click here.

Dead Battery 2

2011-09-10T20:16:00.001+08:00

Sounds like a title of a really bad B movie.

(In deep throaty voice)

The story follows a boy in the cusp of adulthood, searching for a better life in the City of Dreams... Batang Berjuntai (Hanging Cock [I'm not kidding!]). Abused as a child, he ran away from home at the tender age of 16, struggling to make ends meet until he found Odlid, a magical vibrating one foot obelisk. With it, he philandered his way into the inner circle of the rich and powerful. His reputation grew and finally caught the attention of the underworld kingpin, whose wife was well known in Batang Berjuntai for her voracious rambunctious carnal appetite. He was given two choices by the kingpin, serve only his wife or death. Just when he thought things could not have gone any worse, Odlid stopped working. Thus, began his quest to replace... the Dead Battery!

Coming to a theatre near you.

I got a surprise this afternoon when I attempted to start BR240 - the battery was dead. No signs, no tell tales. Just died there on the porch.

To be quite honest, I could have done without this happening now. Of late, many a monies have been spent to just maintain both cars and, what with Raya and all, the financial strain is quickly becoming suffocating. Out of frustration, I cranked the engine again and viciously stepped on the gas pedal. Thank God, the car managed to start.

Quickly, I drove to the nearest workshop and had the battery replaced. Case closed.

For Sale: Honda Civic Type R

2011-09-06T22:25:00.001+08:00

I'm just helping out a friend to sell his Honda Civic Type R.

He is selling it for RM 162,990 (negotiable). Details can be found here.

The picture above is the actual car for sale. We took this one fine morning around the Bukit Jalil Stadium before we were chased out by the security guards. Then the morning became not so fine. :)

If you want to set up a viewing, please do contact Zuhril (012 3000836).

Project BR240: Oil Cooler

2011-09-04T21:32:00.003+08:00

One of the problems with my BR240 is the oil temperature. Prolonged driving at law breaking speed, even though well within the speed cut limit, will cause the oil temperature to rise to about 110 deg or 9 o'clock on the stock meter cluster on the dash. Sometimes, during the drive up to GTJ, the temp will rise after which point I would usually back off from the throttle so the oil would cool down. Having to monitor the oil temp all the time is no fun at all, but so is having something break down due to reckless disregard for, what I think is, one of the vital signs of engine health.

So, I decided to install an oil cooler to counter the problem.

Gambar hiasan

The unit that I got is a trusted item in oil cooling that is meant for a BNR34. It came with all the hoses and oil filter relocation kit. If I am not mistaken, the oil cooler, in a BNR34 is usually located on the right hand side of the bumper where the vents are, but on an ER34, they are usually placed in front of the radiator, which is where I had mine installed.

I was very excited when I got my car back, hoping that all my oil temp problems would be a thing of the past. I looked forward to driving hard, either on the long straights of the highway or through the back roads of Ulu Yam, never needing to steal a glance at the oil temp meter ever again. Unfortunately, my expectations were wrought with false impression.

Quite shockingly, to my utter dismay, the oil cooler did not solve the issue... well, not entirely. What it does is slow down the rising temperature, i.e., I can drive further before the temperature hit 110 deg. Ultimately, I still have to keep an eye on the gauge, which is annoyingly distracting.

However, I did notice that when I slowed down, the temperature went down a lot faster than before. This means that I can get back on the saddle and ride the horse to town within a shorter cooling period.

I can't say that I was totally disappointed with the results. I suppose the oil cooler is doing its job considering I still have the OEM radiator and thermostat in place. Perhaps, once I've changed the latter two to aftermarket ones, I can see a more stable oil temp... at least, that's the hope.

So, stay tuned to this blog to find out if it does. Till then...

Cheers,
Director of Project BR240

Malaysian Skyline Club 1st Charity Drive & 2nd Break Fastival

2011-08-14T09:56:00.045+08:00

It was a hot day. I was out in Sunway to work on Project Runway... I mean... Project BR240. I could feel the energy drained out by the stifling heat, especially so in this fasting month of Ramadhan. I was parched, partially dehydrated, and delusional. In a moment of weakness, I almost bought a boost meter which I did not need. Thank God I didn't.

I looked up at the sky with my hand shading my eyes from direct sunlight, only to find that there was no reprieve from the midday heat. There were no clouds in sight.

I crawled back on all fours to where my car was. I clutched at the small black ledge of the window, struggling to pick myself up, but somehow managed to summon the reserve energy stored in the layers of fat that I have in abundance.

I lumbered into the car and wasted no time getting myself out of the money pit that is Sunway.

***

I woke up at 430pm in my air conditioned bedroom. Though still a little dazed, I could feel the energy returning to my body. My wife and kids had just returned from window shopping and we had half an hour to get ready for our date with the kids from Badan Amal Nur Zaharah.

Outside, the clouds began to gather. As we exited into the highway, the skies opened up and the heat finally washed away. Seeing how the roads were wet all the way to the BHP checkpoint, it did cross my mind if the rain would actually disrupt our planned evening.

Few had pulled out due to personal encumbrances, but I had no idea how many would turn up for our very first Malaysian Skyline Club charity drive. It was when I reached the checkpoint, albeit a little late, that I realized my fears were misplaced and allayed by the more than a dozen Skylines parked at the far side of the BHP wall.

I was greeted by the friendly heckles of the Skyliners, who occupied half of one pump island, no doubt, to the great consternation of the station owner. Everyone was in high spirits, some wore Baju Melayu, some dressed casually, and there was one odd duck clad in jubah, visibly the most excitable among the lot.

We left to our destination, shortly after the last two cars arrived, under the shade of the overcast clouds and the ensuing drizzle. I was the designated sweeper and laid watch to the stable of high horsepowered cars in front of me.

Led by Pimpin, we reached Badan Amal Nur Zaharah, about fifteen minutes shy of seven. Parking was a little bit trickly, but we managed to squeeze majority of the cars in the compound, while others parked outside. Once out of the car, carressed by the Janda Baik breeze, I marveled at the sight before me.

Badan Amal Nur Zaharah sat on a plot of land roughly the size of a football field, with a long driveway leading towards the main building which stood parallel to it. To the right of the entrance, a wooden Balinese looking chalet overlooked the whole area like a watchtower. Slightly further down, a belvedere of sorts was perched on top of a man made pond. Across from the pond and beyond the small hall, an open space laid the foundation where three tents had been erected solely for the occasion. Besides the few quarters to the left of the open space, the one structure that stood out, for me at least, was the covered open air surau (place of prayer). Between the tranquility of the surroundings, the fresh air, and the soothing breeze, Badan Amal Nur Zaharah was truly an inspiring sight.

Unfortunately, even the tents couldn't prevent puddles of water from forming underneath it. So, we had to move the tables to less soggy grounds minus cover over our heads. We were fortunate that the rain had stopped and dining under the stars was the perfect way - the only way - to celebrate the auspicious breaking of fast with the children of Badan Amal Nur Zaharah.

We had about 20 minutes to kill before sunset and most of us huddled in groups, enjoying each other's company, exchanging banters and... what else... modification stories. The children weren't anywhere in sight, perhaps wary of the strangers and their loud cars at their doorstep. To be quite honest, we weren't exactly inviting in our demeanor, preferring to stick to what's familiar, which was to mingle amongst ourselves. Like the attraction between future lovebirds, neither one wanted to make the first move, but both happy to be with each other, unspoken and shy.

When the sun finally set, we broke our fast together.

The best part of the night for me was during prayers. A wooden gazebo bore witness to our congregation, easily supporting more than 50 people at any given time. All of us, the Skyliners and their families along with the folks and kids of Badan Amal Nur Zaharah, stood side by side in prayers led by our gracious host, Ustaz Yahya.

For me, it wasn't just the coming together of two different socio-economic classes under one roof, before God, that was appealing, but, in actuality, it was the ambience, in which we were shrouded in, that was captivating. First of all, there were no concrete walls or glass windows barricading us from nature. I could hear the tranquility ringing in my ears serving as background to the Quran recitation being read out by our imam. Second, and most noticeably, the air that enveloped us that night. The air was fresh and still. It was cool and serene. If ever there was a right temperature, one that does not make you sweat, considering our tropical humidity, and one that does not make you shiver, that was it.

You had to be there to understand what I am getting at. I've never felt so at peace and contented in my life as much as I did on that gazebo. Truly, an unforgettable experience.

We capped the night with everyone gathered in the hall where the womenfolk sat. Pimpin and Feezdya represented the Malaysian Skyline Club presenting gifts for the kids to Ustaz Yahya. The kids were excited, but especially so when one of the members (Akram) handed out duit raya. They queued up, boys first (how gentlemanly), with their faces beaming with joy. Raya came early for them.

We left soon thereafter, but not without surprise gifts for the Skyliners too. One of our members, who recently traded in his masculine, testosterone driven job in the tire industry (there goes my supply!!!) for a feminine, estrogen filled, pores closing, lovey dovey career in the cosmetic industry, was kind enough to give away Mary Kay's shower gel and perfume!

OMG! OMG! OMG!

Mary Kay y'all!!! For Skyliners!!!

This... is... the best club... ever! :)

Alhamdulillah.

Alhamdulillah, everything went by without a hitch and I think it had much to do with our organizer extraordinaire, whom shall remain nameless due to his (or her) adversity towards compliments. Also, it was really nice to see Skyliners coming together for a good cause. I was particularly encouraged to see new faces joining in our event. I have never been more proud to be a part of a club that, on the surface, seems antonymous to charity, but in reality, surprisingly charitable.

Driving home, I felt really good about myself and what the club has done for the less fortunate. My wife told me how the kids loved the food as if they've never tasted better. But the reality is, they probably have not or, at least, not as often as they wish they could.

As I looked on at my eldest who was sleeping in the back seat, and my youngest deep in slumber in the loving arms of her mother, I realized how truly fortunate I was. I had a good upbringing with parents that did all they could to give me the best the world could ever give and, now, I am doing the same for my children.

I was told, some of the children of Badan Amal Nur Zaharah are orphans, some come from broken homes, some poor, and others who fare no better. While their future remains as bright as they want it to be, there is no doubt that they have their work cut out for them. I think it will be that much harder for them to achieve their dreams in life without the necessary support system; be it parental love and guidance, good education, conducive environment, or proper funding.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so good about myself. I felt that my contribution was small - very small. In the grand scheme of things, I only paid for their food, for one night, for one meal - and probably only for 2 children!

Couldn't I have done more? Can I do more? Why is it that I can spend thousands of Ringgit on car mods, spent hours at the workshop, waiting and wasting time, yet only offer so little to the needy? Worst, I fear that whatever I have given, I did so because we're in the blessed month of Ramadhan. What about outside of Ramadhan? Will I be so 'generous'?

This is why I am taking this opportunity, to do my part, to encourage my readers to help these children of Badan Amal Nur Zaharah by donating whatever you can, daily, weekly, monthly, or at least once, if it is not too much to ask. I am sure that our collective contribution will benefit them in one way or another. If this is not the charity of your choice, then do so with those that is.

For details:

Badan Amal Nur Zaharah

Lot 27797, Kg Sum Sum Hilir

Janda Baik, 28750 Bentong

Pahang.

Ustaz Yahya Bin Yusof - Pengurus

012 - 627 1549

017 - 234 7040

No Account Maybank - 564726100594

May Allah bless our efforts that night and continue to enjoin us to do good deeds. Ameen.

Surah Al-Ma'un

1. Have you seen the one who denies the Recompense?

2. For that is the one who drives away the orphan

3. And does not encourage the feeding of the poor

4. So woe to those who pray

5. [But] who are heedless to their prayer

6. Those who make show [of their deeds]

7. And withold [simple] assistance

p/s: Some of the pics were taken from the Malaysia Skyline FB page.

Project BR240

2011-08-08T12:36:00.013+08:00

Lately, I've been taking long hiatus in between posts. There's a good reason for it. I call it extreme laziness. Typically, this will coincide with a period of searching... for money. It is natural then that the Skyline and the retention of money do not mix well. There is a convection between the two, where the latter will be sucked dry if it touches the former. So, in order to keep them apart, I divested myself from car blogging, from being poisoned, to distract myself from intentionally searching for reasons to invest in my favorite four wheeler. It seemed to work... for awhile.

Let's face it, I can't keep dodging the modifying bug forever. For the best part of two years, since I misguidedly bought the car, I tried my very best to refrain from joining the modifying bandwagon. Yeah sure, I did do some modification, but nothing that I would consider as... big or serious. I had the exhaust done barely two weeks into the ownership plus I installed a turbo timer, which has since turned zombie on me, i.e., it still displays the timer, but it doesn't do didley squat except to remind me why I should buy original in the first place.

Other than that, almost a year later, through the Skyline Anonymous support group, I was given the opportunity to reconstruct the frontal features of the car to bear the image of an R34 GTR. I coupled the aggressiveness of the new look with braided brake hose and Endless pads and topped it all off with some decent aftermarket ignition coils.

Ok... I admit. I've done quite a few things now that I've listed them down, but still, they were done out of necessity rather than through proper planning. At least, this is what I told my wife. Hehe.

Everything else was unmolested by aftermarket parts. I drove the car daily and enjoyed every minute of it. Even when I got heckled by the Skyline Ultra for running with the stock speed cut, I held my ground, taking in the insults, jeering, and booing with a modicum of whatever that was left of my dignity.

It was difficult at times to resist the temptations of the seductress, who, surprising was not my fellow well intentioned Skyliners, but the mod demon in me, constantly doling out excuses after excuses on how best to manipulate my finances (and my wife) to serve the modification cause. I fought the demon as best I could, for two perilous years, often deflated by the heartache that I could not give what my car deserved.

Then, one day, by God's decree, I stumbled into the Tree of Enlightenment, an intangible map born from the darkest corner of my brain that charts the modification path from the roots of basic upgrade till the last twig of proper tuning. I started to see things more clearly now.

Gambar Hiasan.

I realized then that I need not sacrifice one for the other; the car for the money and vice versa. I could have both by exploiting my resources and converting them into reasonable workable solutions. Without getting into the gory detail of my finances, suffice to say that I am now on my way to reach my targetted horsepower, which I have set at a meagre 400whp. This will be my project for the next... 3 years!!!

So, what's the difference between what I've written before and what I will write in the future?

Well, for a start, I've given it a name. A name that will reflect, somewhat, the progress I've made in terms of horsepower. The project will be called... BR240 - BR is just the initials of my alter ego in the forum and 240 is the base horsepower when I first dynoed the car.

There you have it - a cause that I can truly get behind and am really excited about. Hopefully, I can carry the momentum over the next few months and continue writing as much as I can, at the same time snap me out of the debilitating condition of extreme laziness.

Till the next update.

Selamat Berpuasa to all my Muslim readers! :)

So This Is How It Feels Like... 3

2011-07-24T12:19:00.009+08:00

I went to my first dyno tuning session the other day with my good friend Gobiz, who was kind enough to invite me to witness the spectacle that is his R32 GTR monsta aka Gorgon. If I had known what to expect, I would have brought along a set of those noise filtering headphones cause when we were done my eardrums were shot and I was momentarily deaf from the countless times the car was revved till the 7000rpm self imposed limit.

Anyway, even at 1.2bar, the dirty black bastard from hell was churning out 500 ponies with about 60kgm of torque... actually, I don't even understand what I just wrote in the last sentence, but what I do know is that it is heaps above my GTTR aka BR240 power/torque curve. And that can only mean one thing - more fun!

What was interesting though, the tuner did attempt to push the figure upwards by increasing the boost to 1.5bar, but, sadly, his noble efforts were hampered by the driveshaft vibration, a sign of its impending demise. Even so, he did manage to hunt down a truckload of ponies, edging closer and closer to the magic 600whp.

After the session, my eagerness to mount the beast was stopped only by the grumbling of our collective tummies. So, we enjoyed our lunch under the shade of trees around Rock Cafe Sunway, sipping our fruit juices and gobbling our meal, which were paid for by our ecstatic host, Gobiz. The day could not have gone better... but it did.

Since my BR240 was forcefully decommissioned by the Road and Transport Department, Gobiz had to pick me up and drop me off at my place. So, riding shotgun on his R32 on the way back was a real test of my neck strength.

Being the cautious person that he is, Gobiz navigated the emancipated beast through traffic off boost, reducing the possibility of any untoward incident due to his unfamiliarity with the increased power. Once the road cleared, it was time to hit the boost and...

...

"Bro, where's the boost?" I asked perplexed.

"Wait for it. It's coming," he replied assuredly.

Few minutes past and still we had not got on boost. "Bro, this is not funny. I thought you said the RB30 has higher torque. The only torque I feel is you touque-ing cock! Dude, where's my boost?!"

"It's coming, it's coming, it's coming," Gobiz was in a visible crescendo of excitement, "4000... 4100... 4200... keep your pants on... 4400."

By that time, I was asleep and snoring hard.

"4500... here it comes!!!"

Then suddenly, right out of nowhere, this surge of lateral gravitational force was pulling me back and wedging me into the tiny R32 GTR seats, jolting me back to life as I struggled to make sense of the ferocity of the T04R turbine that was spooling rapidly on boost hitting the 1.2 mark on the orange HKS meter within seconds... no... milliseconds! My God, that was a devastating yet amazingly pleasurable wake up call I've ever had in my life.

Having been on Pimpin's and Dark Child's megawatt R34 GTRs umpteenth months ago, I distinctively remember how it felt when they stomped on the accelerator for the benefit of a newbie. That served as a reference point, at least to me, for future co-driver experience. So, when the Gorgon's RPM needle hit 4500, it took that experience up by few notches.

The acceleration was astonishing. The exhilaration was a natural high. All the pain in my ear from the dyno run, all vanished. The elevated endorphin levels made sure of that.

After a few enthusiastic steps on the accelerator, Gobiz had to back off and hit the brakes as we ran out of tarmac to peel. Unfortunately, the brakes could not match the power and, even as a passenger, I could feel that it was horribly inadequate. Immediately, I relayed my thoughts to Gobiz, which he concurred. As a consequence, he ensured that the braking distance between the GTR and potential disaster was wide enough to halt the marauding beast.

As we reached my place, we got out of the car with smiles on our faces. We giggled our way into the house, where we performed our obligatory prayer, thanking God for the blessings that He has showered upon us. I offered Gobiz a drink before he had to make his way home, thanking him for the ride.

Thick skinned that I am, I went for glory to cap this wonderful day. "Can I drive the car?" I asked confidently.

"Ok."

What the...

I knew he had no qualms about letting me drive his car, but to get the opportunity so soon after tuning? Well, I was quite surprised. But I didn't need any second invitation. I took the key from him and quickly settled into the car, adjusting what needed to be adjusted.

My biggest fear in driving someone else's car is always the clutch. So, I familiarized myself with the twin plate, which was surprisingly softer than I expected, and started off driving slowly. I went through the slow turns, the bumps, and the stops around the housing estate, trying my best not to stall the car especially when I could barely contain my excitement for what is to come.

Once I felt an ounce of confidence, it was time to put the horses to the courses. You see, the small township where I live is a perfect short track with multiple long straights, sweeping bends, sharp turns, wide roads, and, best of all, almost devoid of any traffic. Of course, being extremely familiar with the location helped add to my confidence.

So, when the first stretch appeared before me, in 2nd gear, I floored the accelerator. Reaching 4500 RPM required little effort thanks to the increased displacement, though a ball bearing turbo equivalent would probably spool a lot faster and make the car more responsive. Again, the moment it was on boost... *shakes head* ... Masya Allah... freakin' insane. It was so fast that I literally felt scared.

I had only 2000 RPM to play with, as I had to shift before reaching 7k, even though it was short, but it was all the fun I needed to wash away all the work related stress. Surprisingly, going from 2nd to 3rd, grip was aplenty and there was no indication of any spin whatsoever. The car felt very stable and I had no fear of losing control.

I drove around for few minutes just bathing in the awesomeness of the power of Gobiz's R32 GTR. Any longer I would probably be chased down by the police, not that they could catch us or anything because we would be in their view for 1 second before we left them smelling our fumes. But out of respect for my hood, I had to keep the screaming wastegate to a minimum lest I be banished from this quaint neighborhood forever.

When I was done pleasuring myself with the car, I understood more of car modification than before. Not so much on the technical side, but more about chartering a path that suits one's goal or character. Gobiz is clearly a straight line, high speed (up to a point) kinda guy and I can totally understand the thrill in just gunning down a long highway or smoking some stranger at the stoplights. It is his path and it clearly showed in his expression that day of how happy he was with his pet project. For others, it might be pointless, preferring more to turn their cars into a track fiend or a formidable touge machine, but to each his own.

Whatever road one chooses to follow, one thing is certain, with great power comes the need for greater braking ability. Without a proper brake set up to back up the power, we are only endangering ourselves and those around us. I believe Gobiz is looking for one and I hope he gets it quick. On boost, his car is wickedly quick and I fear for his safety, even if he is very level headed and cautious.

But I will never forget this day when a dirty 20 year old rusty car put a big smile on my face. Never in my wildest dreams, since I drove the R35 GTR many aeons ago, that I would be privileged enough to actually drive a car that has more than double the power figure of my beloved BR240. It was truly a pleasure driving the Gorgon and I have Gobiz to thank for this.

Thank you bro.

Hope you get that driveshaft fixed and the brakes upgraded soon. I can't wait when the car is tuned for 1.5 bar with higher rev limits! Insya Allah. Till then....

Handbags & Cars

2011-06-28T13:03:00.042+08:00

Take a look at the picture below taken by my wife while we were in Sunway. We were there in support of Gobiz who wanted to explain his leaking problems to Max and Loki who dropped by to check on the progress of his R33 GTR project.

We were all standing around in the workshop, just chatting, when Max jacked up the 33, so that Gobiz can show him the location of the leak spots on his car. Immediately, we all converged underneath the engine bay. So, my wife and her new foreign friend, Miss Loki, could not understand how a bunch of guys can just stand, sit, and stare at something that is as boring as Monday morning meetings. On top of that, during the Sunday morning breakfast in PD, she remarked that we talk about the same thing every... single... time we meet up. Basically, she doesn't understand the obsession men have over a chunk of metal! It just doesn't make sense to her.

Actually, it makes perfect sense. Cars to men is no different than handbags to women.

Before we move on, I need to point out that you should be thankful that your man is preoccupied with cars rather than some other women. This should be your main consideration point whenever he wants to go to the workshop or hang out with his car buddies. It is paramount that you understand this and accept the fact that a sports car is men's way of circumventing a monogamous relationship. Hehehe.

Also, realize that we consider hanging out in the workshop with you as quality time. In fact, we would love nothing more than to see you bored out of your skull, sitting on greased covered chairs, sweating, in a poor air circulation environment. It makes us horny. And that's a compliment to you. :)

Now that I've got that out of the way, lets get down to business.

Functionally, a car is much like a handbag. It is a carriage. It carries things. It carries people as opposed to a purse, make up kit, tissues, reading glasses, sun glasses, pens, pencils, old receipts, breath mints, house keys, diary, cheque book, latest edition of Marie Claire, one fruit, a box of sanitary pads, a pack of condoms, and other crap that a woman puts in a handbag.

Visually, a car accessorizes a man like a handbag does to a woman. It helps augments one's appeal depending on the car one drives. For example, for handbags you have brands like Bonia, Jaspal, Coach, Burberry, Ferragamo, LV, Gucci, Hermes, Chanel et al and the higher up you go on the price tag the higher the appeal. Similarly, for cars we have the Proton, Toyota, Honda, Merc, BMW, Ferrari, Maserati, Lambo, and, of course, the cream of the crop, the Nissan Skyline. I dare quote a friend who said, "Seeing a GTR (R32-R34) is like a special event." I kid you not. His words, not mine. So, by associating with a particular car, automatically, increases a man's appeal.

Also, like handbags, cars suffer from imitation too. I know from my wife that there are Grade A, B, C, D until Z of imitation handbags. Sometimes even the high end stores can't even differentiate between the real and fake ones! Unfortunately, for cars we have the Wajalutions, Wiralutions, Inspiras, and the GTR wannabes. In fact, I know of one red Skyline GTT with the 3-spoke Advan rims, which recently converted to look like a GTR. Shame on him!

So you see, even though we are from Mars and you are from the Black Hole, we have more in common than you might think. I am sure you talk about handbags passionately with your girlfriends and handbags is just one of many standard topics that you have, for example, shoes, dresses, make up, blings, kids, and, not forgetting, wayward husbands. Similarly, men talk passionately about cars, football, other women besides their wife/girlfriend, sex, and more sex.

Maybe you don't talk about handbags as frequent and as long as we do about cars, but that's just because a car consists of many components that are upgradeable, whereas a handbag is stuck to its design. About as much as you can do to a handbag is to buy those overpriced little trinkets that you can hang on the handbag. This process of accessorizing the accessory is what drives (pun intended) us to spend countless hours at the workshop, waste our time at the coffee shop talking about the array of possibilities on how to get our wife... I mean, our cars to go faster and faster.

The quest to find the right balance between drivability, reliability, performance, and visual appeal is our ultimate goal. And if it means squatting under a jacked up car with 5 guys, then so be it. We would camp and start a bonfire if we have to. That's why it is so much fun for us.

Also, the reason we talk about cars every... single... time is men are just not good listeners. We are also forgetful too. That is why we always forget birthdays and anniversaries. So every time you allow your significant other to hang out with his car buds, remember that when he comes home, he would have probably left the conversation at the mamak stall. It is imperative that you keep allowing him to have more and more sessions with the boys to improve his listening and memorizing skills. It can only benefit you. I'm sorry, but we are trying to be better listeners and more mindful. You just have to bear with us for a little bit.

I hope you can understand now why we do the things we do, specifically when it relates to cars. It is more than just a chunk of metal. It's our pride and joy. It is the extension of self, the expression of our inner child. It is the sanctuary outside our home. It is the reward for all our hard work in the office. It is the materialization of our desires. It is the anchor to our sanity. It is damn personal. It is...

Wait... I take it all back. It is nothing like a handbag. In fact, I don't even understand why handbags are so expensive... and why women need more than one is beyond me. There's absolutely no technology to be marveled at. Slap an LV tag onto a cardboard and it'll probably cost an arm and a leg. It doesn't make sense.

Men and cars do. Period.

Breakfast @ PD #1

2011-06-26T18:45:00.001+08:00

We broke our tradition today. Instead of going to Goh Tong Jaya, we went to Port Dickson instead. The trip was basically pure wangan. We met at a secured location near a recently renamed hotel which sits close to a toll. From there on, it took us about 40 minutes to reach the destination... well, most of us at least... ok ok... all of them except me. I took longer cause I still have the speed cut.

I was left alone at the tail end of the convoy pretty early on. Thank God I had company in the car. Not that we could do any talking because of the massively loud exhaust at the designated highway speed limit of 90kmph *ahem* but also, because the roads were so bumpy that we were gasping for air most of the time.

The guys actually waited for me at the Seremban toll, I don't know how long, but long enough that my wife told me that I was embarrassingly slow. At least, I know that she supports me to go faster hahahahahahaha...

After that, it was another wangan all the way to PD town. Again, I was left in their wake. The PD highway was even worse. Not only was it bumpy, it transformed our cars into airplanes as we went airborne more than a few times.

Anyways, we reached PD town about ten to nine, went to have breakfast at this place called Kedai Kopi Paklang. Food was awesome! Nasi lemak (fat rice), roti bakar (burnt bread) with a slab of butter, half boiled telur ayam kampung (egg of village chicken), french toast with kaya (rich), fried ice cream, and drinks after drinks... it was gastronomical heaven.

We spent a good 3 hours chatting while waiting for someone who had overslept and had to rush from Malacca. I won't mention his nickname, but it rhymes with Lemon or Demon. Even when we wanted to leave, we couldn't because the rain had fallen.

In the end, we decided to just wait it out while we filled our time with empty talk about future Skyline events and something about... about models in bikini car wash. Apparently, someone suggested that in order to attract Skyliners all over Malaysia to come to the next Skyline Gathering.

Other ideas thrown about was to have a trampoline. Yes, I do not understand why he brought it up. It is a mystery, though I can confirm that this person recently celebrated his birthday and probably wanted a trampoline. I don't know. I am not judging. He also suggested blow up castles (my my, he must have really wanted the trampoline and castle on his 10th birthday). I am not sure if he mentioned blow up dolls, but I am sure it probably crossed his mind or at least in the mind of the one who suggested the bikini car wash.

Also, to all the Malaccans Skyliners, please be informed that your grand daddy Mr RB30 will come down to your part of the world soon. I have informed your Malaccan spokesperson to roll out the red carpet for his arrival and please, please, please, pay your respects when he is there. You do not want to incur his 400hp wrath. :)

The rain stopped and we giggled our way out of Paklang's. Just like in any breakfast outings, it would not be complete without the customary outdoor chat and open bonnet. Since it was late, we had to cut it short and made our way back home.

Of course, I was left alone once again. Halfway through, a new friend I met, who drives a tricked out Audi A4 Quattro something with 13 speed, was tailing me. Damn that car was fast and gorgeous!

Everything in, it was a nice Sunday morning breakfast with a lot of horny guys and 2 ladies. Though I did not like the drive as much as a tauge trip to Goh Tong Jaya, the food really made up for it. However, we do plan to go there again in the future. I feel that it is a perfect spot to connect with our Malaccan and Niners (N9) Skyliners. Next time, we plan to follow the tauge route of Lukut to reach PD town.

So, look out for that event and, Insya Allah, we will meet again at the next Breakfast @ PD.

Renault Sport 250 Cup

2011-06-20T22:55:00.037+08:00

Life is full of surprises. You are rarely prepared for what's coming. Usually, it comes in either one of two guises; good or bad. For example, an R34 GTR parked in your porch on the morning of your birthday is, without a doubt, a good surprise. However, an R34 GTR parked in your porch on the morning of your birthday with a sign that says "This is not yours. It's mine. I just came to get my things, you loser. Much hate, Your Rich Ex-Girlfriend" is, absolutely, a bad surprise. Whichever way you take it, surprises, in general, make great conversational pieces.

Earlier this week, I had the privilege of enhancing my burgeoning reputation by presenting the success story of a project, that my colleagues and I recently completed, to the top brass. I was brimming with confidence of acing the presentation because I felt responsible for introducing a service that is generating a new revenue stream for the company. Of course, my ego was further inflated by the fact that they had erected super huge billboards and ran print ads in local dailies promoting my awesomeness.

I was on top of the world.

So, there I was, walking in the corridors of power, in slow motion, to the applause of my fellow co-workers. I was greeted by a line of thumbs up, high fives, and pats on the back. The ladies were screaming my name in fanatical adoration. Some fainted as I shook their hands or shine a smile in their direction. Flanked by an army of supporters, I was ready to take my place amongst the greats that have walked through these walls.

I stepped into the room where the big guns were waiting... SURPRISE!!! Suddenly, the world spun and I blacked out.

When I came around, I had bullet holes all over my body. I wasn't dead, but it really hurt. I looked at my marketing colleague, who was my co-presenter, apparently, he got it worst - he was blown up! With everything still blurry, the last thing I remember was someone shouting "Landmine!!!". I am pretty sure that my colleague stepped on it. So, I searched for his scattered limbs and pieced him back. Amazingly, he was not dead either. Through all his pain, he managed to whisper, slowly, "Ouch...".

After some time, both of us got up to our feet. All the so-called fans, the thumbs up, the high fives, had disappeared. No one was around. It was a long road down the corridors of power and we were standing there alone. Picking up the pieces, we searched for our belongings, but we could not find them. We looked again and again... yup... they obliterated all of our belongings; our egos, our confidence, our reputation, and our self worth - all blown up to smithereens. So, with only our battered bodies intact, barely, we walked down the Hall of Shame with our heads misguidedly held up high, strangely pleased by the sprung surprise.

That was not the end of surprises that I got that day. As I was walking back from lunch, I saw this bright yellow 2 door hatchback sitting by the side of the road. It was the Renault Sport 250 Cup! I have only seen it once before on the road and to see it parked right in front of me was quite a surprise.

Then I saw a guy wearing a Renault lanyard smoking next to the car. Having survived a massacre, my new found sense of invincibility compelled me to ask him if I could test drive the car, which was something I wouldn't have asked due to my innate debilitating shyness. Guess what? He said OK! Surprise!!!

Apparently, he was waiting for a customer who had made an appointment during the Japan GT for a test drive. So, I gave him my number and told him to call me once the client was done. And call he did!!!

The first thing I noticed was how perfectly flush my ass sits on the Recaro semi bucket seats. While getting my huge thighs in - in between the steering and the seat - required some flexibility on my part, once inside, it felt like the Recaros were specially made for me. I had expected it to be a little bit hard on my back, judging from how sturdy and svelte it looked, but I was genuinely surprised that they're actually very comfortable.

The interior has nothing much to shout about. The only thing that caught my eye, after a bit of searching, was the multi purpose controller thingy that hides behind the steering wheel. It does a lot of things including shrinking your balls from huge to tiny in 2 seconds. That's because it controls the throttle response of the car via different mapping presets; Progressive, Linear, Sport, and Extreme. I think there are more settings, but I only cared about going pass Linear.

So, it was no surprise then that I selected Extreme, as a testament of my huge sack, to begin the journey. And the first thing I did was... stall the car. Hahahahahaha! Well, almost. Between the short clutch and the extra responsive throttle, I let the car get away from me as it hopped to an embarrassing halt. Sensing my ineptness, the Renault salesman told me to shift the mapping back to Linear.

I did as told, but mostly because I have this uneasy reservation about driving someone else's car. Anyway, off we went with little to no drama. Once I got used to the clutch, it was pretty easy to drive. The ergonomics of the drive was excellent for someone with my body fat percentage or, according to the unreliable BMI, a classification of dangerously obese. There was sufficient amount of headroom and plenty of space between driver and passenger. Everything was within comfortable reaching distance. The rear windscreen was a bit tiny, but that was, literally, a small matter.

Now, that day wasn't even my birthday, but I had been getting a lot of surprises, good and bad. Once we were in front of the Syariah Courthouse, I set the mapping back to Extreme (cause that's how I like to roll... yea right) and floored the little mother Cup-per and... BOOM! Another SURPISE!!!

The chicken little can really fly! The response was unnervingly fast. Hitting the 7000rpm redline was effortless. And there was little to negligible torque steer. The gear changes were short and smooth. But the acceleration was what really caught my attention.

There was no chest compressing G force that you get with a typical Jap sports car. Despite the Extreme setting, the acceleration felt very linear all the way to the redline. In a way, this drive reminded me of one DC5 Integra Type R that I drove awhile back. In terms of response, the RS 250 Cup feels like it was NA more than it was a turbocharged engine. It felt, to me, exactly like the Type R, minus the deafening noise. It was quiet as a mouse. On top of that, while the Type R prides itself as a track machine with rock hard suspension, the 250 Cup's ride handling was firm, planted, and, above all, pleasant. Granted that I did not weave through the KL arteries like a possessed lunatic, (neither did I with the Type R), I really feel that the car will hold up against more challenging bends under the boots of a professional racer.

Unfortunately, I could not experience the true potential of the Brembo brakes. This is because the car had clocked more than 20,000km and had gone through multiple days on the track. In spite of that, it was still grippy enough to stop me from being an idiot on the road.

I must say, with great humility, that this car drives much faster than my Skyline or, at least, it felt faster. I would have loved to drive it a bit longer, perhaps up GTJ, but I knew I was driving on borrowed time. Given the 10 minutes or so, it was an absolute pleasure to have got the chance to take this pocket rocket for a spin.

All in all, despite the fact that Renault probably manifested this stunningly beautiful automobile for the track, it is surprisingly practical in every single sense of the word. Every single creature comforts that you expect from a car is available. Boot space is sufficient and extra space can be had by folding the rear seats forward. Fuel consumption, according to the spec sheet, is about 8.3l/100km, which translates to about 12km/l in mix urban driving.

If I had the means to afford this, I would definitely drive this to work everyday. No point keeping it tucked in the driveway. Once you get used to the clutch, it should not be too much of a hassle, even in traffic.

So, as I reluctantly gave back the key... oh wait... there was no key, I realized that a Conti car can be as much fun as a Jap sports car, if not more. The RS 250 Cup was the first Conti sports car that I've driven and, if I may be so bold, it truly represented the European contingent pretty darn well. Overall, I am surprised by this RM230,000 ++ mid life crisis package and it has certainly given me fruit for thought in terms of what sports car I will drive in the future.

Couple of days later, I related this drive to my marketing colleague and how it helped me release all the frustration from the firing squad we both received that fateful day. Without even thinking, he said, "Why you want to buy this kind of cars? So expensive and you can't even get a chick to get in the car," and before I could answer him, "Me ah... drive a Camry only I can already pick up chicks... no need to go fast la what la."

I was stunned. I was surprised and caught off guard by his statement. But I guess life's like that - full of surprises.

Announcement

2011-06-04T19:07:00.002+08:00

This is to inform you that I will be moving the Hikayat Merah Serongmangsa to my other low traffic blog (azmir2.blogspot.com). This move will enable me to freely explore the possibilities of the series without having to pigeonhole myself inside the car genre.

I did not expect to find renewed motivation to write when I started the series. Initially, it was meant to chronicle some recent events/upgrades with a fictional twist, but as I kept writing, I wanted to see how much creative crap I can spew from this little noggin of mine. The story has really taken a life of its own.

So, this decision came to spare all of you from my dementia. If you decide to follow the series, do so at your own risk. :)

I do thank to those who have religiously followed the adventures of Merah Serongmangsa. I will, Insya Allah (God willing), continue to write and I hope that you will enjoy it.

Azmir Z.

Hikayat Merah SerongMangsa (The Tale of Red Sideway Victim) - To Kill A Prince

2011-05-24T17:05:00.017+08:00

It was a full moon. The usual night silence was ruptured by the howls of the heathen hordes from the marshes of Jei Zed, home to the once formidable clan called Supr Ar. For decades, the Supr Ar had tried to breakdown the Northern Great Wall of Nis San, but they could not surmount nor break the 20 feet high iron barricade.

Ever since the defeat in the Battle of Quarto Myle, named after the highest peak in the land, Mount Quarto, they have been trying to make their way back into more hospitable terrain. The King had driven them out of Myle's Creek, their motherland, and erected the Great Wall to protect the Kingdom from Supr Ar's attacks.

Casualty of the Battle of Quarto Myle.

It had proved to be a masterstroke by the King. By pushing them back to the marshes, the Supr Ar were walled in by the ferocious Sea of Karrat to the west, the arctic cold of Gon Subsidee mountain range to the north, the haunted Forrest of Yam in the east, and the Northern Great Wall of Nis San in the south. Their numbers had dwindled over the years and, subsequently, they had grown weaker from the harsh conditions of Jei Zed. Whatever attempts to breach the wall were only made by the Supr Ar younglings desperate to lead a better life. However, their efforts had, thus far, come to naught.

Supr Ar's numbers have declined over the years.

Tonight was no different. However, the futile attack was not the only ploy at work. Deep within the Forrest of Yam, away from the illumination of the moonlight, Hijau Tertiuar stood at the altar of Gayn Ting, beside him, the sultry witch, Breadegg Yamyam.

"Father's affection for Merah is increasingly suffocating... not to mentioned, annoying! If I don't put an end to this, the throne will forever be lost from my grasp," groaned Hijau.

"Did you... bring... what I... asked for?" asked Breadegg in her slow haunting voice.

"Yes."

Hijau handed over a lock of hair to Breadegg, who placed it in a wooden mortar that was filled with a concoction made from the waters from the River of Dhal, the Hotspring of Sham Bal, and Teapull. Immediately, the mixture effervesced and released a pungent smell.

"Hmmm... most... in... teresting."

"What is? The smell? I can tell you it isn't. Even Arbi's fart smells better... and that's saying a lot!"

"Where... did you say... Merah... come from?"

"I didn't. We were told he was an orphan from a small town in Joe Hur."

"Anything... else?" probed Breadegg in her usual sloth.

"No! What are you getting at?! Did the spell work?" Hijau was running out of patience with the witch.

"The spell... only works... on those... with common blood."

Hijau turned pale when he found out the truth about Merah.

Hearing that, Hijau's face turned ghostly white. "You mean he is... actually... my half brother?"

"Yes... lucky... bastard, eh?" Breadegg turned away and chuckled, amused by her own wittiness.

"So how do I get rid of him then?!" demanded the impetuous prince.

With his back against Hijau, Breadegg reached inside her cloak, pulled out a vial containing a yellow substance, and threw it at Hijau.

"What is this? Is this urine?"

"Die Zel... you... idiot."

"Will it kill him?"

"No. Just... paralyze."

And with that, Breadegg disappeared into the night.

Hikayat Merah SerongMangsa (The Tale of Red Sideway Victim) - The Nose

2011-05-22T15:40:00.008+08:00

"Father... why is my nose different from my brother's?" asked Merah, the King's whoreson.

"It's because you are special, my son" answered the King as he watched his youngest observing himself in the mirror, his reflection an image of discontent and shame.

Merah's nose.

"Well I don't want to be special!" he snapped, "Hijau, Pocong, Hitam, Perak, Arbi... they're always making fun of me. Calling me names. Calling me GTT! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it."

"What is GTT, my son?"

"Who knows?! I don't know!" Merah sobbed, clearly the brotherly taunts had gone too far. He was feeling angry and ashamed of himself.

"Tell me. What does it mean?" the King spoke with a soft calming empathetic tone.

Merah turned to face his father. He looked up and said, "Got Tiny Testicles."

Hearing that, the King almost broke into a hysterical laughter, but for the sake of his favorite bastard, he suppressed it by turning away and pretended to cough. He knew his elder sons were capable of making caustic remarks, but he could never fault them for their creative ingenuity. Once he got over the cough, he composed himself, put both his arms on Merah's shoulder and said, "Look here my son," he chuckled and immediately looked down, almost giving himself away, "if you feel so profoundly about changing your nose, I know of someone who can help. In fact, I am sure he can fix you up before the Royal Testi... I mean, Royal Ball."

"You'd do that for me father?"

"Of course... you are my favorite ball... I mean boy... boy! Favorite boy."

"Thank you father." Merah was so happy he hugged his dad, who by then was teary eyed from holding back the urge to laugh.

Got tiny testicles... genius!

******

The Royal Ball attracted the who's who of the kingdom. They came from all over the land, as far away as Joe Hur, the kingdom's last southern bastion.

The aristocrats in attendance for the Royal Ball.

But it was different that year because it coincided with the unveiling of the new prince, as was customary when the prince hit puberty. Every one came to witness for themselves the truth behind the rumors that the King fathered a child.

They came to pay homage to their just King.

As the guests waited with bated Ron Smilan Tjuh stinking breath, finally, along with his brothers, Merah stepped out to the balcony to a rousing reception from the gallery at his coming of age gala. The crowd cheered at the new prince as he waved at them.

The titular prince final unveiled.

"He looks just like the King," some remarked.

"OMG! What a ravishing red royal!" some cooed.

Merah was overjoyed. He was pleased with his new nose and none was the wiser, except, of course, those in the know. And Hijau Tertituar knew.

"You may fool them, brother... but you ain't fooling me. One day, they will find out who you really are. I'll make sure of that," Hijau whispered his threat to Merah.

Merah's face changed. He should have expected that from his brother, especially on such a special occasion as the Royal Ball.

"Oh, by the way... we made fun of the size of your balls and you went ahead and got a nose job? Brilliant, my brother. You have truly redefined the meaning of stupidity," Hijau's parting words were as incisive and hurtful as his sword play.

With that, Merah relapsed into his pre-nose job depression.

Hikayat Merah SerongMangsa (The Tale of Red Sideway Victim) - The Family

2011-05-18T11:23:00.017+08:00

The child was taken in by the King as his adopted son without the consent of anyone from the royal household. They were all taken by surprise by his decision, yet no one dared to question him. All they were told was that the boy possessed remarkable potential to succeed him to the throne. Such brazen declaration did not sit too well with his other sons especially when they had more rights to the throne than this... malfeasance at their doorstep.

Leading this motley crew of disenchanted princes was Hijau Tertituar, the first in line. He was the bravest of them all, oft seen leading an army through the winding haunted Forest Of Yam for the Teepull elixir, a magic potion of great power, and returning with but a minor chink in his armor. His eagerness to ascend the throne was well known. As the rightful heir, he exudes a cantankerous hubris that was beloved by none, least of all by the King.

Hijau Tertituar

The other princes, Pocong Telurbasah, Hitam Legamtul, Perak Tukarkalerla, and Arbi Terti, were all under the control of Hijau Tertituar through his evil enchantress, Breadegg Yamyam, who uses the Teepull elixir to control their minds. So, it was no surprise that they treated their new brother from a different mother with utter disdain and hatred.

The King, sensing the lack of congeniality among his brood, lavished his bastard child with all the love that a bastard child deserves, while keeping close to his heart the true identity of his transgression byproduct. He raised the bastard as the titular crown prince for no apparent reason than to spite his first born, who had been a thorn in his royal butt for years now.

Hijau Tertituar's many excursions to the Forest of Yam had cost the kingdom many a knight, leaving it with a weak defense against the barbarians of Tayip Ar. As a result of the ensuing caravan raids and robberies, prices of goods, like sugar and the kingdom's official Ale -the Ron Smilan Tjuh - had gone up causing all the subjects to suffer from bad tasting food and sobriety. Taking into account personal and property safety, it was just a matter of time before the subjects will rise against the King and demand for his blood.

That was why the King had to protect his illegitimate offspring from the clutches of his half brothers and to ensure that enough time will pass for him to fulfill his potential and to, finally, challenge Hijau Tertituar for the throne of Jiti Ar.

Hikayat Merah SerongMangsa (The Tale of Red Sideway Victim) - The Birth

2011-05-15T20:29:00.016+08:00

This is a tale of a young pretender, the youngest among a sibling of six, who was born of royal pedigree. His story is one of tragedy, spawned from the unholy union of the king and his commoner love interest, his geniture was shrouded in secrecy. I remember it like it was yesterday, though long have I travelled through the passage of time since. So vivid is the memory that, had you lived during that time, you too would not have shelved it deep inside your cerebrum.

It was a day unlike any others before it, punctuated sporadically by unusual events in what should have been a typical mid summer's day. It began with an eerily silent morning, devoid of the soothing cacophonous melodies from the animal kingdom. Not even the stridulating of crickets nor the croaking of frogs nor the chirping of birds could be heard. As if they knew the significance of that day that we did not.

The village.

Right across this tiny village, the agonizing wail of the mother fighting through her contractions could be painfully heard echoing through the darkness. The proximity between houses and the cobblestone streets carried the screams all the way to the doorstep where I used to live. I tried covering my ears, yet it managed to penetrate through my fingers, the pillow, and right into my eardrums, permanently etching the horror in my brain. That dreadful sound has haunted me for years.

Then, it stopped. The sun was now slightly above the horizon, illuminating the quaint village with its ray of light. For a moment, I thought the worst was over, that the baby was born and the mother was peacefully at rest. I went about my usual routine, when, suddenly, just as it had stopped, the screams had started again. Everyone was out of their homes and pouring onto the streets, panning their heads in search of the source of the afflictive shriek. But none could pinpoint the origin.

The townsfolk murmured to each other, speculating and gossiping about the identity of the woman in labor. Even in that close knit community, no one knew of anyone being pregnant, which adds to the mystery surrounding this birth.

Townsfolk gossiping.

As the sun rose higher and higher, so did the screams. Strange though it was, I noticed, even when the sun was out, the air remained unusually cool, like an autumn evening. The chill, literally, sent shivers down my spine. I wish she would stop screaming. Frighteningly as it was having to listen to her cries, I could not imagine the pain the mother had to endure in labor.

Just when I thought things could not have been any weirder, the clouds began to gather. By this time, I was at the woods next to the village, trying to escape the reach of the mother's cry. From that vantage point, I could see the clouds slowly swirling, quietly converging on top of the village. Then came a sight I will never forget. The sun's majestic rays were now completely absorbed by the thick ash colored clouds, plunging the entire town into morning darkness. The skies, once tinged in soft baby blue, had by then saturated into menacing red, turning the swirling clouds like a suspended whirlpool of blood. Yet, from where I stood, the sun was still glazing me with its soft morning light.

Ominous red sky... see. Scary right?

You can't help but get the ominous feeling that the unborn baby was somehow connected to this ungodly phenomena.

Just then, the rumbles of thunder could be heard. The sound grew louder and louder, crescendoing as if trying to reach a climax, hopefully bringing to a close this horrifying episode in the village's history and, by a larger extent, end the mother's suffering.

So it did.

As if nothing had happened, the clouds dispersed and the skies returned to its original hue. The mother's agony had been replaced by the baby's lung expanding cries. The worst was over... or so I thought. I slumped down, processing what just transpired, when, not too far away from where I rested, came the sound of galloping hooves headed in my direction - FAST! Instinctively, I threw myself away from the trail, just in the nick of time. As the horse drawn carriage zoomed by, I managed a glimpse of the insignia imprinted by the door.

It was the royal emblem. Why would the palace be in this part of town?

The royal emblem.

"Nooooooooooo!" the shrilling cries of a distraught mother shattered the tranquility.

To be continued...

For Sale: Camera Gears

2011-04-26T12:48:00.011+08:00

Ok. More stuff. This time my camera gears.

1. Nikon D3 (no pics) - RM10k - SOLD!

2. Tamron 28-75 f2.8 - RM1200 - SOLD!

3. SB800 - RM700 - SOLD!

4. Nikkor 70-200 f2.8 VR1 - RM5000

5. Nikkor 17-35 f2.8 - RM3800 - SOLD!

6. Manfrotto tripod (190XPROB) + 3-way head (804RC2) - RM500 - SOLD!

7. Lowepro Slingshot 200AW - RM180 - SOLD!

8. Lowepro Mini Trekker Classic - RM180 - SOLD!

9. Lumiquest light bouncer - RM50 - SOLD!

10. Reflector (circle with 4 colors, gold, silver, white, and black) - RM80 - SOLD!

Hurry, hurry! All price negotiable.

Call me 012-2000361

For Sale: Strobes & More

2011-04-25T18:39:00.007+08:00

Selling off my studio lights and more:

2 x 600w (if not mistaken) + strobe lights - RM1300

2 x light stands - RM200

1 x remote trigger - RM100

1 x backdrop stand - RM150 - SOLD!

1 x backdrop (grey, as seen in pic below) - RM120 (I'll throw in another 2 backdrops; one blue,one sunburst) - SOLD!

If you take all of this, I'll give special discount.

Call 012-2000361.

Bike sold separately. :)

For Sale: Yamaha Electric 5-String Bass Guitar

2011-04-21T18:26:00.005+08:00

Update: SOLD!

Update: My apologies, it's not Ibanez, but Yamaha.

I apologize for not updating this blog for quite some time. It's just that I've been busy doing nothing and was not compelled to update it as a result.

However, today, I suddenly had the urge to write, though just a little bit.

I have an immaculate Ibanez electric 5 string bass guitar for sale. I've had it for probably more than 10 years, but only played if for about 2 years. That's why it is in such a pristine condition.

I am selling this with the carrying bag and a bass amp. I'll put up the bass amp picture later. All in, I'm looking to let go for RM1300 (negotiable).

If you are interested, you may call me at 012-2000361.

Mid Life Crisis

2011-04-07T16:29:00.006+08:00

Recently, I visited a friend in the hospital with... other bunch of friends... and our topic of conversation veered from penis catheter to mid life crisis. I don't know how we managed that, but I think being in the hospital and the all too familiar hospital smell - the smell of old age and death - probably got us thinking about what lay ahead, should God grant us long life that is. I suppose, one of the milestones in life, for a man at least - though existentially rebuked by academic researchers - is the mid life crisis. I wouldn't go so far as calling it a crisis... I mean... penis catheter? Now, that's a crisis.

Regardless, being perilously close to this mythical age, I couldn't help but wonder if I am already in this... psychological maelstrom... that is a bane for any wife and a potential cause of marital ruin. I read an article once in The Star which says that the age band of this crisis now sits in the 30's instead of the 40's. Let's look at some facts:

1. I have work... but not a career. My job is hugely unsatisfying, no matter how grateful I am of it.

2. I have the desire to resist old age and hold on to my youth (or whatever that's left of it)

3. I do exhibit the tendencies to be alone or with my peers (I'm talking about you Skyliner lot)

4. I did trade in a perfectly low fuel consuming 4 door saloon car with a perfect gas guzzling 2 door sports car

Hmmm... maybe I am in my mid life crisis!!!

It's much like the current state of affair of the R34 GTR. I believe it is going through an automobile's version of a mid life crisis. If you ever care to browse the local popular car classifieds, you'll find there are a lot of R34 GTR on sale at the moment. Not just that, its price has significantly gone down, even as low as RM145k.

What could be triggering this mass migration into the market? Because I have nothing better to do, I have come up with several possibilities.

#1: The Age of Puberty

Most GTRs I've seen of late are those manufactured in '99. That means, in Malaysia, it has reach the car loan puberty age, making it almost impossible for ordinary chaps like me to own one without having to break into my children's education fund. The 34's are unlike the 32's and 33's - it is still commanding a hefty price. To fork out even RM145k, which is cheap by 34R standards, is still frightening. As opposed to the 32/33, personal loan plus some savings can net you a decent model without stretching your financial commitments too thin. Therefore, before these bank loans completely disappear, it would be best for current GTR owners to sell their cars now or risk huge depreciation to the car's value.

#2: The Age of Maturity

Most GTR owners, the ones that I know and I've met, with the exception of a very very few fellow mid lifers, are just slightly above the legal drinking age. While most of them are financially sound and would not have any trouble with the upkeep cost, they would inevitably surpass the bronze age when a boy, reluctantly, segues into a man - the all important period celebrated by girlfriends all over the world. This is because the vagaries of youth will, undoubtedly, have run the boys down and the harsh reality of age will have caught up with them. In turn, these 'boys' will be more susceptible to marriage and settling down. Of course, no GTR can ever be part of that plan. Hence, the sale.

#3: The Age of Death

We all know the impending ban on second hand parts imposed by our beloved government. What this means is, eventually, parts for the R34 GTR will be rarer than it already is. Though aftermarket parts will still be available for years to come, others like hood, bumper, fenders... err... I don't know... whatever that comes with a half cut GTR... oh ENGINE (!) will be hard to come by. If I got my economics right, with an increase in demand and a decrease in supply, inevitably, the prices will go up. Not to mention, the turnaround time to get the parts in, one would have quite an unsavory situation of GTR ownership. Sound the death knell.

Just like us, the 34 GTR will just have to push through this period of uncertainty much like what the 32 & 33 has gone through. Looking at its predecessor, the R32 is now highly sought after and is considered a classic by enthusiasts. By the same token, the R33, while not a classic (yet), certainly warrants its value - about RM85k - and would be a relatively cheap springboard for major horsepower upgrade.

Once its price stabilizes, there is no doubt that the 34 GTR will inherit new breed of owners; those who are in their forties with good high paying jobs, those who have reached familial equilibrium, those who are in their mid life crisis.

Unfortunately for me, I've hit the crisis age too soon, too soon to amass enough disposable income to own a 34 GTR. Perhaps when I'm 40? Who knows, maybe I'll have another round of mid life crisis.

I See Your True Colors... That's Why I Love You

2011-03-27T22:54:00.006+08:00

I was bored... I admit it. Few of us were discussing about what color our cars should be if we wanted to get them repainted.

Now, the decision to choose the right color should not be taken lightly. It needs careful consideration.

But how does one decide especially when there are no live examples? Aaahh... the answer is... PHOTOSHOP.

So, as a courtesy to my mate, Loki, I have taken a picture of a R33 GTR off the net and 'repaint' the car using different hues. Below is the outcome of my boredom. Oh, picture was taken from motorpix.com.

Very few yellow GTRs around. I've seen a few yellow 34 GTTs. Almost bought one too.

This is what I'd like to call pristine white.

Needless to say, this is the best color. :)

Not for the faint hearted. Loki, think you can pull this off?

I tried getting a brighter more saturated orange, but my Photoshop-ing skills deserted me.

Matte black, almost coal like.

Icy blue. Cool.

Love this color too. In this pic, it looks like a matte gun metal grey. Love it, love it!

I've heard of one green R33 GTR that got totaled. Pity... it would have stood out among the rest.

The first attempt. Tried to get Bayside Blue, but came out like... crap.

Now I Know: Coil Pack

2011-03-26T08:01:00.002+08:00

Note:

I am starting a new 'section' on the problems that I have encountered with my cars called Now I Know. The intention is to share my experience with you so that you don't panic like how I did when I discovered them. Do note that I am not an automotive expert, thus my views here are just what I think I know. Having said that, you should always consult your foreman of your problem before taking corrective action.

Something happened on the way back from the GTR head trip. I was with Pimpin, stuck in a jam when suddenly the TCS, SLIP, and engine light came on. The car was misfiring and sounded like a Subaru. I feared for the worst, perhaps a blown engine. I've never experienced a blown engine before (not that I'm looking forward to it), so I just blurted it out to Pimpin. Thank God, Pimpin has a little bit more experience in that department and he assured me that it wasn't.

The car lost considerable power and I had to lumber it to a stop at Pimpin's palatial abode. We didn't notice anything out of the ordinary from the engine bay, so we decided to just restart the engine. Lo and behold, all the lights were gone!

The culprit.

However, I still had to drive the car back to my house, which was about 30km away through rush hour traffic. Not wanting to experience the same drama again, I called on Max from Speed Effect. His first thought was the coil pack. Since nothing could be done at that time, I figured I'd just wait out KL's congested arteries.

After enjoying Pimpin's hospitality, I decided to make a move at about 8pm. The drive home was, thankfully, uneventful even though I hit a slight traffic jam on the NKVE. Still, no light came on.

In comes the new. Splitfires.

Looking back, I distinctively remember how the car felt a little bit different than usual. Before the engine hiccup, the GTT-R had a smooth drone, which was amplified by my straight flow exhaust system that transfers the vibrations to my ass through the seats. Few days before the incident, the drone became a staccato of rumblings and I could feel it through my derriere.

I didn't pay any mind to it. In fact, the weekend before, I drove the car up to GTJ. Besides the more pronounced rumble, the car was... normal.

The dirty half dozen that robbed my bank.

The next day, I went to Max. He ran a diagnostic and confirmed that the coils were on its way to the grave. Though I suspect that it probably had some life still, I didn't want to be caught off guard again. So, I bought the Splitfire Super Direct.

Now, the engine feels a lot smoother than before. I can't say for sure if there is a marginal increase in horsepower, but the new coils do add a little bit of a kick. Maybe it is just the psychological effect of spending that much amount of money - money reserved for new suspensions - I don't know.

Whatever it is, driving the red rocket is just getting better, Insya Allah.

TT 20110318

2011-03-19T20:38:00.002+08:00

We had a TT (Teh Tarik) session last night. It's been awhile I suppose, discounting Breakfast @ GTJ. Basically, the session was triggered by a new member who wanted to meet up with me. I just thought to kill two birds with one stone by organizing a TT while introducing him to the other 'club' members. It was a last minute decision on my part to arrange this, so I didn't expect a big turn out.

Initially, I wanted to just have it at the usual hangout spot in Putra Heights, but after violent objections from certain quarters, I decided to leave it open to the floor. So, when the suggestion came that we hold this TT at Kota Damansara, I did not object.

Bangkai_jk's R32 GTR. Love the LMGT2 (right?).

Anyways, about 8 cars turned up, which was pretty good I reckon. We had:

1 x R32 4 door

1 x R32 GTR

1 x R33 GTS-T

1 x R34 GTR

4 x R34 GTT

The non-GTRs.

Actually, at this TT, I met 2 new Skyline owners; bangkai_jk (R32 GTR) & Shaiful (R34 GTT). It's always nice to see new faces during these sessions as it helps bring the diaspora of owners closer together. And I think it is easier to get support from the owners once we get to know them, especially when we are planning for the next Skyline event.

Budak jahats. :)

Anyways, the night ended early. Some of us had to go to work in the morning, while others (me) are no longer cut out for long hour TTs. Even so, it is always fun to meet the guys. I just wish that the turn out would be bigger next time... perhaps the next Malaysian Skyline Mega Gathering? *hint* *hint*

Midship's ex, now Shaiful's.

Of course, TT would not be complete without a little wangan. 4 of us were going in the same direction, so it was fun to watch how slow my car was compared to the rest. The speed cut really didn't help and this was the second time in 1 week that I was left in the wake of others because the speed needle won't go beyond the 5 o'clock mark.

Very fast one this car.

But, in general, I had fun; a short drive and a short TT, just nice to de-stress from the week's labor. Hopefully, the next time these guys see me, the car will be free of it's speed limitation, Insya Allah.

Breakfast @ GTJ #6

2011-03-16T21:38:00.008+08:00

There's nothing much to say here. It was our slowest drive up. The roads were wet and some of us chose to err on the side of caution. It was so slow that we stopped twice!

Anyways... here are some pics I took.

Dexter, Blood Red, MrSilvia, & Joey.

I really don't know how someone can manage to drive a 500hp rwd car. Respect.

Even greater respect... the M5.

Dexter's engine bay.

Hide Ken Seek (HKS).

Name says it all.

Schnitzer.

Is it a replica, is it real? Is it a replica, is it real? It's real.

Frootloops GTR.

Joey's RX8.

Love the paint job.

From right, Geber's camouflage R33 GTS (kot), Dinesh's test car FD2R, and Temujin's R32 GTR.

I wish I can test drive a performance car for few days.

A man and his half a million ringgit motorbike.

This car was finally cleaned in anticipation of someone who was supposed to come, but didn't.

I don't know what to write in this caption.

The attendees.

MrSilvia's engine bay.

That's just the housing. I don't know what the owner meant by that.

Project U brake set. NICE!!!

RM500k. Yes, that's right... for a motorbike.

Ok... It's Over

2011-03-15T05:57:00.004+08:00

Apparently, I don't learn lessons easily. I know I said that I was over the idea of owning a GTR, but, while mindlessly browsing the net searching for solace, I found an ad for a 99 V-Spec for a paltry RM145k!!!

I KNOW... what the hell, right?

So, I called up the owner and true enough it was/is RM145k. Immediately, I rang up Temujin, who works close to my office, to see if he was available to pay this car a visit during lunch time. Unfortunately, he had other plans which was more important than looking at this RM145k GTR!!! Next, I called up the encyclopedic Pimpin and, thank God, he was free to go.

Initially, I planned to go during lunch time, but then, since I already have Pimpin to tag along, I thought it might be best if we looked at other GTRs on the market. Quickly, I searched the net for the available GTRs and set appointments with the dealers. In total, we had 3 places to go, all in KL.

Of course, a 1 hour lunch time was hardly enough to cover all these. I did what a good employee would do - I took a half day off for this momentous occasion.

Our first stop was in Pandan Indah, where the RM145k GTR sits dusty in the back of a workshop. As I nervously snaked through to the back, I was trying my best not to get my hopes up to high, but I was cautiously optimistic. In terms of chances, it couldn't get any better than this.

The car, in its gunmetal grey hue, was everything that I dreamed of from the outside...

...

... but the inside...

...

Lets just put it this way. You get what you pay for. Although, if I had the extra cash to rebuild/upgrade the car, then it would have been a perfect platform to start a project. Unfortunately, at that price range (>RM140k), I would rather have something more... palatable.

2nd car we visited. RM198k.

Next, we made our way to Ampang Point, where our next GTR awaits. This time it was a white V-Spec (not sure of year) with plenty of performance stickers. It looked gorgeous and tastefully done.

It had stock engine, aftermarket suspension (couldn't tell which brand), and probably, Ogura clutch. Nothing stuck out except for the price, which I think is a bit pricey for a V-Spec model.

At this point, I finally realized that I truly cannot afford the GTR. But we had one more place to go. So, I figured... better finish what I started. What the heck. Let's just drive the stake further into my heart and make sure that the GTR dream is dead and buried once and for all.

The most bizarre looking GTR I have ever seen in the flesh. An absolute monstrosity!

Finally, we reached our last stop, where we also hooked up with Loki. It was raining by then, but not wet enough to dampen our resolve to complete our scouting mission.

I am sure the first things you would notice are the outrageous 20" Lionheart bling rims and the audacious paint job. That's not all. What you can't see are the neon lights lined underneath the car and in front of the intercooler. I mean... how blasphemous can one get?

Though I respect the owner for taking such a bold approach with the GTR, I just feel that it is wrong to emasculate the 34 GTR that way. But to each his own.

I won't go into the details of what's in the car, but let me just say that, out of the three, this was probably the best. Granted, I would have to fork out additional cash for new rims and tires, apart from that, I think, for RM188k, it is a steal. And if my advisors are correct, judging from the specs, this car is an absolute bargain compared to others in the market.

Alas, the dream has been finally laid to rest, buried deep inside my subconscious. Personally, I had to make this journey to understand what it means to buy, to own an R34 GTR. Needless to say, thanks to Pimpin, I learned a lot about the GTR and what to look for when buying one.

Well... I guess that's it. No more GTR wet dreams. It's over. The dream is over.

...

... or is it?

What Was I Thinking?

2011-03-12T19:18:00.008+08:00

Yesterday, I experienced another moment of weakness. I was flipping through the pages of zerotohundred when I came across an ad for a Bayside Blue R34 GTR which was selling for RM188k. When I saw the goodies listed by the owner, I was overjoyed and instantly hooked on buying the car.

It's not that there are no other R34 GTR's on sale, but this particular one piqued my interest because it has all the mods that I intend to put on my car - aftermarket brakes, suspension, BOV, exhaust, oil cooler, ECU, and many more. Most interestingly, the engine, as far as I could gather from the post, is stock standard!

Dream, dream, dream... I always dream.

For all intents and purposes, this car fits the bill. So, I quickly made some calls to ascertain what kind of loan that I could secure and what sort of down payment that I was looking at. Of course, I had to get rid of my GTT-R first before I can even consider owning this Lapis Lazuli gem.

However, after consulting with industry experts, with the estimate amount that I would have to cough up, it would be better if I invested the money in upgrading my current workhorse. Though I can see their logic - and it totally made good financial sense - it was difficult for me to let go the idea of, one day, owning a GTR. Mind you, this was not the first time that I had a lapse in judgement when it comes to fulfilling my childish fantasy.

In the end, the dollars and cents made the decision for me. Also, the fact that the GTR is reaching its loan retiring age was another deciding factor.

*Sigh*

When reality set in, albeit 24 hours later, I was left with a gaping hole in my GTR heart. I had to fill the emptiness with something... a new TOMEI Arms turbine perhaps... or, or a new set of suspensions... a larger front mount intercooler... no, no... an RB26 engine transplant! Yeah, now we're talking.

But instead... I bought this.

DIY style... that's how I don't roll.

Naturally, I paid using credit card (why not?). While it may not exactly fill the hole, at least I felt like I've spent something on the car. Besides, it's good exercise... right?

Anyway, I spent the whole afternoon washing, not only my Skyline, but also my wife's Airtrek. In fact, I washed hers first before I showered my car with some overdue TLC. I had to appear... impartial... to show her that my purchase (all RM78 of them) had a communal instead of a selfish objective.

Little did I know, washing an SUV can be a b***h.

The Airtrek is huge... and tall. That and the fact that I have a very cramped driveway made for a very exhausting car washing experience. Certainly, my perpetual pregnancy bump did not lend me any maneuverability or flexibility in the tight spaces. I was applying the Lamaze technique just to get enough oxygen to my overworked atrophic muscles.

When I was done with the wash and vacuuming the Airtrek, I was absolutely enervated. The heat of the midday sun was no help either. But still, I had to wash my car, more so because tomorrow, there will a drive up GTJ again, Insya Allah.... and I want to look good in front of my friends :)

So, I used up whatever reserve energy I had left and repeated the car washing process. By the time I was done, it was already 3pm. I was soaked, I was parched, I was hungry, and I was so damn bloody tired.

After washing up, I turned on the air-cond and went straight to bed. My head and my whole body was aching as if I had not been exercising for years... wait a minute... I have not been exercising for years! Immediately, the world turned black and I was quickly on a new exciting adventure in la la land.

At about 530pm, I woke up, body sore, with every movement a torturous task. Then, I reflected on what I had done for the past 5 hours and what had happened the day before with the GTR, the foolishness of the idea, and then, I realized... what was I thinking?

You Know When...

2011-03-08T21:35:00.003+08:00

... you are overweight when your friends start to refer to you as a ballast.

Breakfast @ GTJ #5 (Write up)

2011-03-01T22:30:00.027+08:00

About a month or so ago, I invited a friend (lets call him DC5R) to join in on the Breakfast @ GTJ. Due to his work commitments, he was unable to unleash the fury of his pesky Integra Type R on the Ulu Yam wilderness. But 3 weeks ago, spurred on by my expressive accounts on all the GTJ trips thus far, finally, excited, he plunged himself into the 'Screw Work, Have Fun' group and applied for leave for two consecutive Sundays!

The first Sunday was meant as an exploratory trip between the two of us, since the rest couldn't make it in such short notice. Unfortunately, even after I had rammed the importance of waking up early, DC5R only saw the light of day at 7am, by which time it was already too late to hike up Ulu Yam. Instead, we had Breakfast @ Putra Heights. :P

Tail of 2 GTRs.

Thank God he had a spare Sunday. So again, I reminded him to be up early and, more importantly, to pick me up. He wanted to come by 5:45am, by which I berated him on the ludicrous idea (even though I set my alarm at that time). We agreed that he was to arrive at my place by 6:10am, in time for dawn prayers and we would leave right after.

Usually, I get restless the night before any trip. I just find the drive very... liberating. But, this time around, I didn't have the same anxiety or excitement and I slept like a log. Until... suddenly... a distinctive exhaust note could be heard rumbling under the blanket of dawn. It was the sound of every Skyliner's nightmare, the so called David to the mighty Gojira!

It was DC5R and his super responsive Type R!

Feezdya, finally able to join us. We last saw this car in Oct 2010.

I, literally, jumped out of bed and immediately told him to cut off his engine. I was afraid the decibels he was putting out might not agree with my neighbors... I mean, my GTT is loud, but it sounds so sweet and they've gotten used to it, but DC5R's, well... I'm not so sure how they'll take it. Better not wake the neighbors, I'd say, and especially not when it is 5:42am!

Yeah. 5:42am.

Groggy, I let him. As the cool breeze entered the house - at the risk of sounding melodramatically gay - so did a whiff of his perfume. Dayymm yo! He came all dressed up and ready to go. And there I was, reeking of morning breath, kain pelekat (sarong type thing) barely hanging on my waist, feeling slightly underdressed. I just thought a quick splash and dash would suffice, but after the whiff, hell no.

This car got fire... literally!

Once I rid myself of unpleasant morning related odors, we headed out for DC5R's very first Ulu Yam touge trip. For me, it was a good opportunity to ride shotgun in a FF car, what more a Type R, to get an idea how it handles through the twisty bends. Apart from that I wanted to find out if my back can handle a hard suspension setup, just in case I decide to buy one HKS Hipermax II. :P

When we arrived, almost everyone was there. In total, we had about... 8 cars - 1 x Hantu Pocong, 2 x R34 GTRs, 1 x R33 GTR, 1 x R33 GTS-R, 1 x R34 GTT, 1 x R32 GTR, and 1 x Type R. We didn't waste any time and left Batu Caves by 7:10am led by the fearless and formidable flying phantom of Ulu Yam - Pocong GTI.

DC5R. He was taking it easy that day... watch out when he goes up again the next time.

Right off the bat, we were trailing the rest due to traffic. Once we got past one annoying 4x4, it was almost open road till Ulu Yam town. Even at the speed he was going, VTEC revving high on the 8000-9000 stratospheric range, DCR5 was driving cautiously, learning the road as he went along.

But because none of the boys were in front of us, it was difficult to gauge how much speed he was carrying through the corners or whether he could keep pace with the Skylines. Though, I have no doubt that he can.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any more exciting than watching an open road, out of a sudden, it got dramatically exhilarating.

The gaggle of touge-holics.

As we were racing along one of the short straights, I saw a few ponies grazing by the side of the road - not a sight you'd see or, at least, I haven't seen on the numerous times I've been up here. Though it didn't lend to anything else besides the obvious, it was... odd. Something about horses on the road shoulder that doesn't seem to fit... misplaced. Odd.

Then, further up, we encountered what would seem to be a drunkard in an Iswara with massive GT wing. He was swaying from left to right, eating away at the opposite lane as if it was a buffet. DC5R kept his distance until he saw an opportunity to overtake. On these roads, I've seen kiasu drivers, I've seen idiot drivers, but I have not seen a swaying Iswara with massive GT wing! Odd.

After overtaking the drunk, DC5R was just gunning down hard trying to make up for lost times. We were already way behind the rest and we needed to catch up, when suddenly, the biggest of all oddities appeared like a Pocong GTI in your rear view mirror - A POLICE ROADBLOCK!

Holy Crepe!

"Police, police, police!" we both pointed out the obvious. Quickly, I threw down my handycam, disposing of any incriminating evidence that might land us a ticket or worse, a trip to the police station.

But DC5R had a better idea. While going at least... a certain percentage above regular speed limit (60kmph), leaving a trail of deafening exhaust noise, DC5R, quick footed that he is, stepped on the clutch and everything went... dead silent. It was as if his Type R didn't even exist... like the sound of the VTEC roar, just moments ago, was just a figment of the imagination. The only sound that you could hear was our rapidly beating hearts, praying that we wouldn't be stopped by the po-po.

The problem was he did not have the time to brake. So, even though we were cruising surreptitiously, we were going fast enough to be pulled over. Probably baffled by the sudden hush and the fast approaching car, the police was probably too slow to react to stop us. Or maybe, it was because, even in the heat of the moment, DC5R managed to acknowledge the cops by raising his hand and flashing his debonair smile.

We-got-off! THANK GOD!

Euro boys.

From then on, we were just counting our blessings. Of course, that didn't stop us from attacking the roads again. I guess some people just don't learn.

But the drama didn't end there.

While trying to catch DC5R, KneeZam's GTR suddenly ran out of juice. We later found out that one of the hoses came off, so a quick fix later, he was back running.

Alhamdulillah. That was as bad as it got... or so I thought.

Rest stop.

After we refueled ourselves with roti telur and nasi lemak, we went outside for our customary male bonding session. That's when all hell broke loose.

Most notable among the casualties of banter was Pocong. He made the mistake of declaring his brother, his brother. Apparently, according to Feezdya's homo-erotica interpretation, brother in this instance is an euphemism for gay partner. This fact was further confirmed when the 'brother' merajuk when Pocong mentioned of another guy. As if not wanting to dispel his new moniker, he erased any doubts in our minds of his orientation by declaring his new set of tires as... geli (ticklish). That didn't help his case at all.

Funny enough, Feezdya was also on the same path to come out from the closet, even though he is married. First, he was talking about how handsome his real gay friend was. There's nothing wrong about saying another guy is good looking, but it was the manner he said it that raised some eyebrows. As if proud, he actually mentioned it repeatedly. Then, he went on saying how normal it is for guys to squeeze other guy's buttocks. Then finally, he prostituted himself to one of the VW boys. I don't know what transpired, but I do suspect that he was selling insurance... among other things. :P

You can almost taste the freshness of the air just by looking at the picture.

I don't know what was in the air, but it sure got all of us laughing like a pack of hyenas. That's what so great about Breakfast @ GTJ. With the right people, it can turn out to be the best stress reliever, second to sex, for any man - straight or otherwise. It's liberating in every sense of the word.

Pimpin showing Pocong how straight he is, while his 'brother' looked away disappointed.

AP Racing. Yum yummmm...

Feezdya complaining about the Maxis network, which I had NOTHING to do with. :)

I already miss the roti telur.

As time wore on and Pimpin kept badgering us to go home, we all made our peace and said our goodbyes. With the exception of Pocong, the rest of us took the Karak route to go home. There, we stretched our legs and turned touge into wangan. DC5R had no problems keeping up with the big boys, just like I thought he would.

I can't think of a better way to end the trip. If I may say so, this was the best and the most odd Breakfast @ GTJ ever. I think I can safely say that all of us went back feeling satisfied... and gay.

Till we meet again, Insya Allah, see you gays... I mean, guys soon! :D

Breakfast @ GTJ #5

2011-02-28T18:12:00.002+08:00

Simple video of our last trip to GTJ. By far, the most eventful. Will do a write up soon. Till then, enjoy the video.... and TURN UP YOUR VOLUME!!!

Skyline Photo Shoot

2011-02-24T23:17:00.020+08:00

Few weeks back, an invitation for a photo shoot was sent out in the forum by Zahid, a student and a big fan of Skylines. Initially, reception was lukewarm with only few people confirming their participation. Heck... I didn't even plan to go for fear of being busy doing nothing. :)

In fact, I was at home counting the number of rotation a fan makes in a minute. I was that occupied. Sunday has never been so fun.

Highlight of the day. The rest were just props. :)

So, when the call came in, from my ex colleague Reza - an Evo 8 owner of all people - requesting my presence at the scene, I still had half a mind about it. Partly because I just found the fan so darn interesting and it would take a lot to pry me away from my trance.

Then, I was told that only 3 cars had showed up that morning... not a convincing argument to lure me out of the house I can tell you that.

Frootloops' GTR. So sakit hati (pain in the heart) looking at this.

However, Reza was very persuasive and persistent in his quest to get me to come to the photo shoot. Deep down, I felt just a tiny bit responsible... me being the self elected Class Monitor and all... and Reza played that card to the hilt.

So, I succumbed.

I took this while lying on the road. The Midnight Purple GTR on the left is Lemon Demon's.

Unfortunately, like majority of husbands out there, final decision rests in the iron fist of the feared mate - the wife. Any time spent with the Skyliners will have to be replaced with family quality time... with interest. Of late, I have been sacrificing my weekends with the madam and my two princesses over sessions of chest thumping with the lads. I had no bargaining chips.

So, I did what any emasculated husband would do... I groveled.

After looking at this, I should have arranged the front 2 cars slightly closer to the camera. Ahh, who cares?

Whaddaya know? Groveling actually works. :)

With a tank full of my hard earned money, I made my way to Putrajaya in my red GTT-R. I must say I enjoyed the wangan to the location thoroughly... big empty roads with nothing but the mellifluous sound of the engine playing the soundtrack of your life.

*inhale* *exhale*

Simply divine.

Timeless.

When I got to the restaurant where they were chilling out, there was more than enough cars to start a shooting frenzy. I knew most of the guys there, but some I have not had the pleasure to meet. One thing was for sure, I was the 'old' man standing among the lot.

Not wanting to waste any time, I willed them to alight from their seats and move to the shooting location. It was already close to 10 or thereabouts and the heat was just going to get from unbearable to fatal. Judging from the itinerary posted in the forum, I figured we just had to get a move on before we get baked.

Adrian taking a picture of my... I mean his car.

We got to the shooting location and started arranging the cars. First up was the R34 GTRs, naturally. I ended up spending bulk of my time just immortalizing these evergreen monsters in hi-res jpegs. I wasn't even thinking of the other Skyline variants. I just wanted to admire every line, every curve, every nuances of each GTR in attendance. Such is my affection for these timeless beasts.

Eventually, I had to set aside my bias and incorporate the rest in my composition. The R32s were next.

Rokok's, Kyle's, and Sudut's R32.

The R32 has its appeal.

The proud owners beside their machines.

I went back to the 34s for more shots. The white one is Dark Child's.

The elite club. Oh, sakitnya hati aku (Oh, my heart is so painful).

Finally, I got around to the neglected four - 2 x 4 door GTT, 1 x GTT, 1 x R33 GTS-T. By this time, we were all charcoaled by standing out in the sun. My skin was simmering hot and my throat parched. I didn't want to spend any more time than I already had, so I wrapped up the shooting with less than ten shots for the four cars.

Sorry guys, wish we had cooler climate to prolong the session.

Azrish's R33, now up for sale.

I really can't remember the owner's name. But I love the Uras body kit on the 4 door GTT.

Zamada97's 4 door. His rear spoiler is like the Chipsmore cookie, kejap ada kejap takde (one time got, next time don't have).

Everyone admiring from a distance, afraid they'll be eaten by the hood.

The creme de la creme of R34 GTRs.

I need to grovel for this one too.

At the end of the day, I was glad I made the trip. Met new folks and reconnect with old ones. Though I could have remained cool in the house counting the fan's revolution, but this photo shoot was way cooler, even under the scorching sun. I hope to do it again sometime. But next time, we shoot at night!

Thanks to Zahid for organizing this. You can see more pictures in his blog and Dark Child's.

Breakfast @ GTJ #4

2011-02-15T09:01:00.030+08:00

Last week taught me a good lesson in handling pressure. There were so many things to do and so little time to do it in. Add to that a shortage in manpower, I was facing an uphill battle to get my work done. As a result, I had to turun padang (get down and dirty).

It has been awhile since I took charge of a project, grabbing it by the scruff and dictating the implementation with aplomb. That is because, since the change, I have been floating in between working and management level, where my contribution to a project is limited to a high level overview and the occasional diatribe to remind the vendor who is in charge. Also, as part of my'growth' within the company, I've had to take on more roles, which include flexing my customer service muscle by attending to incessant complaints and entertaining obdurate requests from others.

I feel like I am in purgatory. In order to achieve the heavenly sweetness of delegation - which comes as a perk of being a manager - I have to pay my dues and wear two different hats; one for the commoner and the other for the royals. Not one to back off from a challenge, I took them on with gusto.

5 shades of Skylines.

Before my transformation, it used to be that I was only answerable to my boss. Whatever that came above him, will not see the light of day from where I was sitting. I was always sheltered from the maelstrom of criticism and spared from the humiliation of public denouncement. Not so now.

The pressure of delivering a project on time is now mated with the pressure of appeasing the royals at every turn. One misstep, one delay, one unannounced fart will be dealt with swiftly and unceremoniously. My head is lodged permanently in the royal guillotine, waiting for it to be lobbed off my shoulders.

And through it all, even when I am in the right, I have to maintain my decorum and control my emotions lest I be banished as a commoner... forever.

This is the punishment I must endure for my temporal salvation.

The R32 represents my past, and the R34, my future.

These converging pressures climaxed last week as the dateline for a very big project approached. Never in my years of experience have I had to work almost 12 hours a day, for the whole week! Oh, for the love of Allah!

Everyday I woke up thinking, "It's going to be a great day", "The system should work", "Nothing will go wrong", only to be disappointed over and over again from morning till dusk. Each and every turn - just like the Ulu Yam roads - presented a challenge that had to be overcome.

The biggest challenge (and the most dangerous) was dealing with people. Processes can be circumvent. System faults can be patched. But people? That's a little bit more delicate. With people, I had to tread carefully. I had to make sure that when I enter their house, I don't mess around with the furniture.

Under great strain and pressure, I had to obey the rules of the house. There were times when they slammed the door on my face, but I kept my composure. I hit the brakes before I ran out of asphalt. I didn't want to crash and burn and end up making the situation even worse, so I reasoned and I begged, most times to no avail.

The Ulu Yam road was no match for this monster.

It was hard. There were a million and one things to do, but every single one of them met with some form of resistance. My colleague - the only one fully supporting the project - and I looked at each other with broken spirit, utter dejection masking our faces. She understood my pain. We were lost, we felt defeated.

At one point, I really felt... alone. It was as if the weight of expectations was bearing down on me and none was sharing this burden. While I did get some support, which offered me space to breath, at the end of the day, it was still my head on the chopping blocks.

"Die die must do one!" the baritone voice kept ringing in my ear, reminding me of the perilous consequence that awaits my failure to deliver. The pressure was closing in on me.

V for V Spec II.

Facing the threat of ignominy, my brain kicked into overdrive... and so did my mouth. While my colleague worked on the system and network aspects, I put on my management hat and was busy meeting, talking, explaining, exaggerating, and convincing all the relevant stake holders the urgency of their support to ensure the success of the project.

Die die must do one!

By the time I was done, bit by bit, things started to move. Even though it was slow, it gave me hope that I was going to make the dateline.

I could feel it. I could sense victory. Until...

Ministry of Finance.

... my friend and I made an explosive discovery.

It was a Thursday afternoon, I was having a chat with this friend, when an innocent query led us to a trail of questions that desperately needed answers. Unusually calm, we both made calls to our respective resident experts to confirm our worst fears.

Confirmed.

I only had Friday to fix the issue, but this was no ordinary problem. It was the suspended blade of the guillotine. Heads will roll. Game over.

$#%*!!!

What followed suit was a blitzkrieg of importunate events that started as early as 4am, when I woke up to get a progress update on work done during the night. By 630am, I was informed of another problem related to the night work. By 930am, I had to be in the KL office for a meeting on how to resolve the quandary. At 1130am, I had to be in another meeting for another project with higher management.

I was under a tremendous amount of pressure that Friday. My hands were cold and sweaty, my legs were shaking uncontrollably, my brain was over boosted, and my heart had already jumped out the window. I had little to no respite that morning - or for the whole week for that matter.

Hot hatch from Hell!

But things have a way of sorting themselves out. Though, I suffered for few hours pass noon, it was not until 530pm that I got my reprieve. Apparently, the issue was too big a risk to continue without proper control in place and the management decided not to proceed with the initial plan. I was now on borrowed time. Tick tock!

Die die must do one this time!

Oh, the pressure!

By the way, that pressure, is exactly what I felt driving in front of the Golf Polo pictured above during the drive up for Breakfast @ GTJ #4. All the physical symptoms of psychological duress were there - cold sweat, shaky legs, clouded mind, palpitating heart. Aaarrggghh! Who would have thought having fun can be torturous!

At every turn and all the way up, it kept hounding, stalking, tailgating, and toying with me. And try as I may, out of the corner, on the straights, in the parking lot, I-could-not-shake-it-off! Bloody 'el!

What the hell do you have in that car, Pocong GTI?!!!

Thankfully, I managed to soak up all the pressure, but the stress was too great that I lost my appetite for the roti telur. Roti telur has never tasted that bitter to me. Ptooi!!! It was so bad that not even a packet of nasi lemak could save the day. Thanks for ruining the trip Pocong! :)

And just like my project, I can't get my mind off it until it is done. So, watch out Pocong... I am going to make sure that next time you will follow a trail of smoke from my Blitz Nur Spec, Insya Allah.

Till we meet again... stop pressuring me!!!

Change

2011-02-12T12:01:00.010+08:00

Couple of years ago, I was at the low ebb of my career. The job was unsatisfying and future prospects were bleak at best. As a result, I was morose and, according to some my colleagues, I was an absolute disaster to work with... not that I cared, which made it even worse.

It got so bad for me professionally that the frustration overflowed to my personal life. Every day when the sun would rise, so did my blood pressure. The mere thought of going to work was... debilitating. Even when I got home (in a Vios), I was cranky and often, my family had to suffer for my foibles.

Though I had many things to be thankful for, as far as I was concerned, my career was in shambles. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I did not want to leave my employment, but I did not want to stay where I was either. The negative energy was self consuming, eating away at my being until I had lost all sense of empathy. I barricaded myself in self pity.

And it all showed in how I carried myself around the office - in my attitude. I was like a speeding 243hp Skyline with bad brakes. At the rate that I was going, I was bound to hit someone and hit them hard.

... and hit them I did. Unfortunately, it wasn't just anyone from the office. It was my own flesh and blood. What can be passed as parenting corporal punishment, in actual fact was nothing more than the manifestation of my sad mental state.

I could not brake in time.

The new Endless 500deg brake pads.

Immediately, I realized what I had done as the sudden surge of guilt ran through my veins, punishing me for my lapse in judgement. While my 3 year old brood cried downstairs in the loving arms of her mother, I was alone in my room... sitting at the edge of the bed... with my head bowed, I was staring into nothingness and lamenting the mistake.

I got up and performed my obligatory solat (prayer). While prostrating, right out of nowhere, a wave of emotions came crashing down. I felt so small... so so small. I wept.

Vulnerable, I asked Him to give me something better, something that, in His Infinite Wisdom, will steer me away from where I was, something that would benefit me and my family. And with that, I left myself at His Mercy.

Rear pads, 350deg.

Not too long after that fateful day, something happened that appeared to me like God's answer to my prayers. I took it as a sign for me to change my brakes for the better. So, I skimmed my rotors to even out the surface, I replaced the worn out pads to improve safe deceleration, and I changed the fluids to ensure sufficient pressure throughout the braking process. It was as if I went through a psychological overhaul that reshaped how I wanted people to perceive me at work. I was ready to be the new me.

Of course, I did not expect things to change overnight. There were still doubters and haters, mostly those that had heard of me through the grapevines, but especially those that I had crossed during my darkest hour.

The bedding period was the hardest. I was still the speeding 243hp Skyline, but, this time, instead of late braking - or not at all- I just slowed down a wee bit, leaving enough room for my 'new' brakes to stop me from doing harm.

After the brakes had been properly bedded, I had the confidence to push when I had to, and slow down when I needed to. In other words, with the change in my attitude, I managed to rehabilitate my career and get it back on track, Alhamdulillah.

It wasn't easy.

Well... changing brake pads was easy. It was just a matter of swiping the credit card and figuring out how to pay for it later, but changing one's attitude... well that was a lot harder, and changing other people's perception of you? ... Often times it felt insurmountable. But change I did.

So, whether it be your brakes... or your car... or your job... or your life, change can take you through to where you want it to be. It might seem daunting at first, but if you are not happy where you are at and expect others to change for you... well, good luck being miserable. However, if you want to improve your condition, then be an agent of change yourself - for your own sake.

The possibilities are Endless.

Change.

RM2.50...

2011-02-03T07:33:00.002+08:00

Dear Employee,

I've read your letters and I can't help but to chuckle at your ingenuity. You have certainly made your case with regards to the ever increasing RON97 fuel price. Kudos!

I have only two words to say to you in my reply... PADAN MUKA! (Serves you right!)

... and no, you may not work from home nor can you come late and leave early for work. Get on with it and listen to our Prime Minister... UBAH GAYA HIDUP! (Change your lifestyle!)

*chuckles*

Yours truly,

Boss

Breakfast @ ... Batu Caves??

2011-01-30T21:22:00.011+08:00

Warning: This is not my usual entry. Proceed if you are non-judgmental, bored, or if you are in the mood for reading garbage.

As-Solatu khoirum minan naum

(Solat (prayers) is better than sleep)

Allahu Akbar Allahu Akbar

(God is Great, God is Great)

La ilaha illallah

(There is no God, but Allah)

It was only the second time in my entire life that I've heard the Azan (call to prayer) from inside the mosque for the obligatory Fajr (dawn) prayers. I usually perform my duties in the comfort of my own home, neglecting the practice of the Prophet.

As I listened intently, a wave of guilt engulfed me like the morning breeze on this tranquil wet Sunday morning. There were so many things that I could be thankful for, yet I couldn't spare even a fraction of my time each day to devote myself more to Him. I felt awful. I felt small.

I looked to my right, few rows behind me, Temujin was in deep thought, judging from the consternation on his face. Perhaps, he too felt the same... or maybe he was thinking about the drive to GTJ and how I was going to make him late.

Once outside, I got permit to enter his Kermit... wait... that didn't come out right. Kermit is his green R32 GTR, mind you. Immediately, we set off to the sunrise, but not before we detoured to the next door McD, where a bunch of our mates were chatting over their morning overpriced burgers.

Geared up, we then kapish-kapished to the Shell after the Duta exit. There, waiting for us were Eagle, Mizunori77, and Drift Devil05. After refueling on the subsidy-less RON97, we marched on to the main meeting point.

Boy oh boy. Was there a crowd.

The who's who of the industry was there. By that I mean, who is who I also don't know. Some hid behind their nicknames, so I couldn't put a face to them. Regardless, it was already 7am and we had to get a move on.

Led by the infamous midnight purple R33 GTR of Mr. Nismo, the convoy left with over 15... 20 cars trailing behind. R35, R34 GTR, R34 GTT, R33 GTR, R32 GTR, R32 GTS, 180sx, Evo9 (or was it 8), Rx8, that big Cefiro thing, Satria, Lancer GT, Golf Polo... *phew*... what else?

Temujin and I decided to be in the middle of the pack, not because we wanted to be in the thick of the action, but because we saw an old Indian man wearing pink leotards walking towards us. We were so horrified by the sight of his family jewel's silhouette, so much so that Temujin spun his wheels and cut queue.

Yuuuuccckkkk!!!

After we narrowly escaped the clutches of the disturbed old man, both Tem and I said our prayers.

Bismillah.

Soon after, it started to drizzle. Along with the scantily clad old man, the rain was like a bad omen, a bane for any RWD cars. Then again, I was in a GTR and Tem was gunning down like it was dry. Such bravado.

About few kilometers in, four of us got held up by 2 people carriers. As the roads were still winding, it was hard to overtake until we hit a short stretch. Two cars in front of us started to take the outside line, ready to demonstrate their overtaking maneuver skills, when suddenly, right out of the driving instructions manual no-no, one of the bread loaf on wheels decided to turn right without signaling.

Screeeccchhhh....

All four of us slammed on our brakes taking evasive action not to hit the car in front. Tem, with his acute sense of awareness (usually reserved for pretty ladies), quickly jumped lanes, just in time before everyone was mere inches from one another.

Alhamdulillah.

Pink Panther + rain + idiot... were these signs from the Lord? Oh, we weren't sure... I wasn't sure. So we moved on... ever more cautiously.

Thankfully, nothing untoward happened for the next 15 minutes or so. We passed the Hulu Yam town paying our respects by slowing down and letting the town folk admire our rides (for free) while inhaling toxic fumes from our exhausts. They seemed unperturbed, most likely because they've probably seen better cars passing through their quiet town like Wajalution or something of that sort.

Right after we crossed it, I received a call on my mobile.

"Yes," I greeted my caller.

"There... *static* ... crash... *static* ...," I could barely make out what he was trying to say.

"What?! Who crashed?"

"Yes, one white Kancil. Tires not touching the ground any more," said my friend Joey.

Tires not touching the ground? That sounded pretty bad. Turn turtle?

"Is the owner touching the ground or not?" I asked.

"Yes, he is ok," confirmed Joey as my worry evaporated.

I turned towards Tem with a concerned look, "Bro... we organized this. I think it is best that we turn around and make sure everything is ok."

"What about your roti telur?" he reminded me of why I love Breakfast @ GTJ so much.

"Yeah... about that. We can go again some other time," I said.

Tem agreed and we turned back towards the crash site. Along the way, we asked ourselves who was driving the white Kancil. When we arrived, Eagle, Mr. Polo, Kepet, and Drift Devil 05 were parked by the road shoulder, attending to the crash victim by stroking his back, consoling him with words of encouragement.

Apparently, Kancilman was driving at Kancil speed when he hit a slippery patch at the entry of the corner, which made him lose control of the car. He spun, hit the barrier, summersaulted, and pirouette into the drain, where his rear tires were not touching the ground.

Aaahhhh... that's what Joey meant.

Anyway, we had to call a tow truck, but there was no coverage where we were. Tem and I then volunteered to drive up a bit until we could make the call. I had 3 numbers listed in my phone, but none of them picked up.

So, I called Joey, who was already up in GTJ with the rest. I asked him if he had any tow truck numbers and he said no, but, in the same breath, he mentioned that there was a tow truck right in front of him.

Coincidence? Fate? *shrugs*

"Go wake him up!" I instructed him.

Once we negotiated a price and help was on the way, we went back to ground zero. The rain had not let up and we all stood there... waiting... waiting... and waiting. After about half and hour of talking about our girlfriends and wives, Joey came with the tow truck.

What happened next was gut wrenching. As the Kancil was dragged out from the drain, the scrubbing sound of metal against cement was unbearable. Inspecting the scene, one would notice debris of carbon fiber were strewn about, fog lights lost in the dense foliage, and the sound of hearts breaking was apparent.

When the dust had settled, we bid adieu to Kancilman, who thanked us for being there for him. He also promised to belanja (treat) us Sunday brunch at PJ Hilton. But all I wanted was the GTJ roti telur.

Since it was close to 10am, all of us decided to go back down to have our breakfast. On the way down, Tem told me about a dream he had the night before. He told me he dreamt of a car crashing on this trip, but he couldn't 'see' which car... Jeng, Jeng, Jeng!!!

This whole episode had made me realized how fragile we all are. We may drive like mad men, but still arrive at our destination without a scratch or a ding and we may drive like a turtle, yet end up turning the car into a washing machine and we're the dirty linen!

We are not masters of our vehicles nor will we ever be. It is in His hands that our fate rests. At every turn that day, He had sent his signs. I am just glad that all of us are safe and live to drive up another day, Insya Allah.

I did not get my GTJ fix that day and all I can think about this week is the Cable Car roti telur. I don't ever want to have Breakfast @ Batu Caves again. It is not the same. Regardless of which roti telur though, always remember... before you eat... to start with a prayer.

Bismillah.

Disclaimer:

The article above maybe a figment of my imagination... maybe not. The events may or may not have happened. Any reference to anyone alive or dead is extremely coincidental. Comprehend it at your own risk.

WHIDER: Kenn Loh (R34 GTT)

2011-01-28T22:41:00.009+08:00

A while back, I posted a cry for help to you WHIDers (readers) to save these pages from eternal cyber damnation. In my quest to be different from other automobile blogs/sites, I have inadvertently painted myself into a corner in terms of what I can write about in these pages.

Furthermore, my limited knowledge on things technical - although I am an engineer by training (shame on me) - has rendered this blog completely useless for those seeking useful information from car reviews. Even my initial intention of chronicling my car's journey has been nothing but disappointing, as I struggle to secure the kind of funds required to turn the tame little red poodle into a raging fiery behemoth.

The only thing good that I got going is the artistic journalism that I employ in my writing (read, bad grammar) and, also, the self proclaimed brilliance of the pictures I take. Thus, there is not a lot going on in this blog that promises its longevity in the car blogging sphere.

By engaging you to participate in this blog by featuring your ride, I can, at least, ensure that 'What Have I Done?' is kept fresh and relevant.

Enter my first WHIDER Kenn Loh with his white R34 GTT.

Kenn, I assume this is you. :)

Kenn hails from Singapore, but is current studying in Australia and has been following this blog for more than a year (thanks bro!). I actually got his email like... months ago, but could not find the right moment to put up the pictures he sent me until now...

... when I have nothing else to write about hahahahahahahahahahahaha... Sorry Kenn! :)

Looking nice dude. Perhaps a fill flash to the right of the car would do the car more justice. Hehe.

Among the mods that he had listed down are:

Work Emotion XT-7
Tein Superstreet Coilovers
HKS Silent Power System
Z-Tune Kit
Apexi Turbo Timer

The bumper looks much nicer than the original ones.

Very very clean. No paint chips either.

I want that spoiler!!!

Bring this back home to S'pore dude and drive up to KL to meet up with the Skyliners here.

Well, I hope that with this first WHIDER entry, more and more WHIDER will come forward and help keep this blog alive. :)

To Kenn, thank you for sharing these pictures. Sorry I couldn't watermark them. To those who feel like using these images, please do credit Kenn Loh.

Till the next WHIDER... adios!

Little Red Shining Hood

2011-01-22T13:26:00.006+08:00

Since I got the car, I never had it polished. Never really bothered to be quite honest. I reckon I should finish the mods first before devoting my attention to the cosmetics. But, as you all know, I've not done anything to the car beyond the GTR look, sometimes I feel like having it pampered by the auto detailers. It's not like it costs an arm and a leg to do. Right?

When my car grows up, I want it to be like this! I want that GTR spoiler!!!

I've already got this part nailed down... except for the big cooler, of course.

After the last trip to GTJ, I decided to just have it washed. Once it had been hosed down, one guy from the shop told me that the car needs some TLC. So, he demonstrated his products on my bonnet. Easily impressed, I said, "I'm impressed."

Of course, I wasn't going to hand him my wallet there and then, and not that I am going to send the car there anyway, but the thing is, when I touched the polished patch and the rest of the bonnet, it feels different. The patch feels like how the red GTR above looks. Knowamsayin'?

It's smooth, slippery... and obviously shiny.

Notice the clean patch? I tried to wipe off the dirt, but apparently it has seeped into the paint. However, just a small amount of polish and a gentle rub, the dirt's gone.

Unfortunately, for now, I have to resist the temptation. Even if I decide not to mod and just go straight to improve the aesthetics, I still want to slap on the GTR side skirts and spoiler first, followed by a repaint of the car, and, only then, polish and wax.

*Sigh*

I guess the tale of this 'Little Red Shining Hood' will go on just a little while longer and hopefully, it will end with everyone living happily ever after.

Breakfast @ GTJ #3

2011-01-19T00:33:00.009+08:00

*ring* *ring* *ring* *ring*

I looked at the alarm clock (aka my mobile phone) - 2:47am

"Who the hell is calling at this ungodly hour?" I said to myself. I couldn't recognize the number, so I let the phone ring until, finally, it went silent.

Not too long after, I heard a voice telling me to wake up. Initially, it was just a faint whisper. Gradually, it shaped itself into a form, a silhouette of sort, but non-threatening. Then I realized, even in my sleep, that I did have to wake up early for Breakfast @ GTJ #3.

Trusting my instinct and betraying my slumber, I willed myself awake. I looked again at the alarm clock...

6:22am!!!

"CRAP!"

The call was not actually a phone call... it was my alarm clock ringing!!!

Picture taken by Zool. Nice composition.

Quickly, I checked my phone for any messages. It is customary, now, that someone will bail out from Breakfast @ GTJ at the last minute. True enough, this time the damage was limited to only one participant who had injured his foot the night before. I will not reveal who this person is... but his name rhymes with Joey. :P

Without further hesitation, I washed myself up, performed my obligatory morning prayer, and stormed down to the car with my camera bag in tow. Outside, Zool, a disgruntled Mitsubishi Lancer owner, was already waiting for me. We then left for the Shell along NKVE, where we were supposed to meet up with another fella, which I will name as Mr. Type R (to protect his identity).

This is not Mr. Type R. This is Jucky, who apparently does not think too much of the FD2R.

By the time we reached Shell, it was already 6:50am. Then, with everything going so 'well', the stupid Murphy's Law reared its ugly head again. Out of nowhere, my belly started aching. I had taken every necessary precaution the night before which includes unleashing rapid bursts of processed food down the toilet.

So, when the call of nature came that morning, I was really... flabbergasted. But, when you gotta go, you gotta go. I SMS'ed Jucky and Reza that I was going to be late and scurried to the toilet for another round of logging activities.

I don't know what happened that morning, but it seemed that I had befriended this Murphy character as he, once again, threw me a curve ball in the form of a broken toilet flush. I tried my best to clean up after myself, but to no measurable success. In the end, I had to leave the brown logs where it was as I had to make up time. Sorry Shell!

5 cars in total. Small group of friends.

When we arrived at the meeting point, Jucky and Reza had already been waiting for half an hour. I apologized for being late and did a quick briefing to the newbies to exercise common sense during the trip.

Without further ado, we left the station with me leading the convoy of five. Yet again, Mr. Murphy was waiting for me right at the turning in front of the Batu Caves temple, where a congregation of devout Hindus were slowly amassing for their Ponggal festival.

We were held for awhile at the intersection, but not long enough to emaciate our spirit. Once we got through, it was fun all the way to the top.

I've run out of angles to take the photo. :)

For me, this trip was about releasing all the pent up negative energy I had built up during the week. I went through so much crap in the office that if you were to measure my blood pressure, it would have read 265/35/18. It was bad! Therefore, I planned this drive purposely to let out all the aggression and transferred that into driving myself to the edge of my limit (and the car's).

Even at the first corner, when I entered a little bit too anxiously, I hit the brakes late and hard and the car understeered (or was it oversteered?). And for several corners after that, I had this similar problem until I realized that I was... an idiot.

For some odd reason, I had to actually do something that was counter intuitive, which was to give the car a bit of gas in the corner. Apparently, this gave the car a little bit of grip exiting the bend. From then on, it was just a matter of figuring out when to brake and when to hit the accelerator.

I know I have not got it right yet, so I reckon, Insya Allah, there will be more Breakfast @ GTJ in the near future.

Zool's Proton Insp... ooppss... Mitsubishi Lancer.

Zool took off his spoiler in an act of protest against Mitsubishi for selling out.

Also, although it was only my third time, under pressure for being the lead car, it was, by my reckoning, the fastest I've driven along these roads. In doing so, I really felt the inadequacy of my brakes and suspension setup. It felt a little bit... too dangerous.

About 3/4 of the way through, I slowed down my pace. First, to let the rest catch up (hahaha... just kidding). But seriously, I almost had to. By then, my car was viciously vibrating every time I hit the brakes.

Not very pleasant.

Mr. Type R.

However, we arrived safely, but not before a certain gentlemen in a white FD2R trying to bakar (flame) an exquisite orange Lamborghini. Hahahahahahahahahaha.... dude, seriously, what were you thinking? :)

Oh, I forgot to mention... while we were driving like mad, brother Temujin had arrived 10 minutes earlier in his Grand Livina. Who needs a Skyline when all you need is a better alarm clock! Hahahahahahaha...

As always, men can stare at an engine days on end... without even talking.

So, we all gathered around and had our breakfast. We exchanged battle scars from the ride up and made fun of each other. Normal stuff.

But after Temujin and Jucky had left, that was when the conversation topic took a different turn. You see, Reza, Mr. Type R, Zool, and I, all work in the same industry. Naturally, our discussion steered towards how 'exciting' our work is. Then somehow, we moved towards photography, iPad, iPhone, and ended up talking about remote controlled cars - well, Mr. Type R was doing most of the talking anyways, while we listen attentively.

And somewhere in between those topics, we even managed to talk about fish. Fish I tell you! From cars to FISH! Fishing actually... but FISH!

We convinced Reza the best way to mount an engine is... like this... longi..tu..dinal. Is that right?

Aaahhh... in the end, I achieved what I set out to do that day. After sucking all the fresh air that I can in GTJ, I was ready to face the grueling week ahead. I guess, every man needs his cave time... I just happened to find the perfect route to the perfect cave. With the company of good friends, caving has never been this fun.

So, thank you to Reza, Jucky, Mr. Type R, Zool, and Temujin for joining this session. Look forward to seeing you guys on the next Breakfast @ GTJ.

Look at that smile. Trust me, join us for the drive up, and you'll end up smiling like this. Ladies... beware.

p/s: When I got home, I checked my phone again. Someone did call me at 2:47am. I guess I'm just habitually late then. ;)

Breakfast @ GTJ #3 (Video)

2011-01-16T14:52:00.004+08:00

One of my friends captured our trip to GTJ this morning. Here's the video. Oh, you have to pardon the little teddy bears - it's his G-force indicator. Will post up my write up soon.

Breakfast @ GTJ #2

2011-01-14T00:37:00.018+08:00

The day began more enthusiastically than a fortnight ago. Few days before, Temujin had, once again, been bitten by the GTJ bug and could not resist inviting the troops for another uphill climb. I guess both of us had built up enough interest through our respective cyber columns that a lot of Skyliners registered for Breakfast @ GTJ #2. I even invited few Sky friends to join in the party. By Saturday night, we counted about 15 cars in total, so you can imagine my enthusiasm.

I tossed and I turned, sleeping restlessly, unable to contain my own excitement. Once the first light of dawn broke through the silent night, so too did the SMS beep on my phone. I was jarred from my slumber only to be greeted by a disheartening text message.

Dude, I can't join you today. Have fun. I'll join you guys some other time.

Crestfallen, I shook off the sleep and registered the disappointment. Then another SMS came in... and another... and another. Different contents, but essentially the same message. I was looking at a potential non-event. Then, the biggest shocker came, albeit through a phone call.

"My car can't reverse lah bro," said Temujin to the sound of my broken spirit.

The organizer was not coming.

I was on time!

6 cars bailed out, but with Temujin MIA, we needed a new shepherd to lead the herd. After all sheep had been accounted for, there was only one obvious choice for the position of glorified shepherd - Loki's recently tuned 348 whp R33 GTR!

His was the alpha male among the lot. Not even Kyle's R32 GTS-R was deemed worthy of such esteemed stature. We humbly submitted to the interim head as we lined up and marched out towards our destination.

Kyle's R32. Nice eh?!

Reza's Evo 8.

Loki's GTR.

Midway through, I took the mantel from Loki and sped off, overtaking the others, who were probably wondering what was going on. But they needed no second invitation once the deafening roar of my Blitz Nur Spec pierced their eardrums.

The delegates.

Music was provided by NOS Handcrafted. It looks like crap, but trust me, it sounds awesome!

Alvin's R34 GTT.

Everyone high from the drive. Notice Zamada97 (far left) is not smiling? Well, he didn't join the drive, but instead met us at the top... that's why.

I think this shall be the 2nd Unofficial Headquarter.

In the end, we reached our destination safely, Alhamdulillah. Typical of petrol heads, we settled for some mamak food and chatted about things we chatted about 2 weeks ago and the week before that... and the week before that.

Once done, we lingered outside to enjoy the fresh air and continued our conversation. Thankfully, we had some light entertainment provided by NOS Handcrafted. I must note here, while the demo car looked more like scrap metal, the sound system was absolutely superb. The clarity and dynamic range were unbelievable. Too bad the whole setup cost RM20k, but according to Ken (the marketing manager), even with a RM2k budget, one can get a very good ICE. For more information, you can contact him @ 012-2352296. His shop is located at 79, Jalan PJS 11/7, Bandar Sunway.

I wish that is in my Airtrek.

Would you believe it, this car belongs to a 16 year old.

They stared at the engine for half an hour. "Why would anyone buy a boxer?" they wondered.

The butts.

Geber's R33.

Zamada97's 4 door R34 GTT.

There's some photoshop magic done to this picture. Who can tell me what it is?

My daughter picking flowers under the watchful eye of Pokku's R32 GTR.

Geber's intercooler piping. Very clean.

Once again, Breakfast @ GTJ proved to be... awesome! I just love the absence of heat and the presence of fresh air. Sharing that with like minded bunch of misfits is just fantastic. I am just afraid that Temujin, despite not turning up, has given me the GTJ bug. Damn you bro!

I can't wait to go again. Who knows, maybe I'll go again this weekend. :)

Till we meet again, Insya Allah, I would like to thank those who came:

Loki (R33 GTR), Reza (Evo 8), Geber (R33 GTS), Kyle (R32 GTS), Alvin (R34 GTT), Pokku (R32 GTR), Zamada97 (R34 GTT 4 door), Joey (RX8), and that Subaru guy (sorry, I didn't catch your name).

Mine, in case you didn't know.

I gave Reza a head start before I catch him. :)

We went to pick strawberries...

... and let her ride the pony. Now, that is what I call HORSEPOWER!

Nut-Case!!!

2011-01-08T06:57:00.010+08:00

A while back, I woke up to find one of my tires was flat. I thought the inevitable had happened because the rear tires were living on borrowed time. Thankfully, this happened at my house.

For a moment, I was contemplating on whether to drive the car to the nearest tire shop or fix the spare one on and go. I decided to attempt changing the tires myself nut knowing how calamitous that decision was going to be.

Spare tire out... time to get down and dirty.

Tapping into my engineering prowess, I labored to unscrew the lug nuts. Sweat poured down my forehead profusely and, before long, I was drenched as the morning sun slowly simmered me to golden brown. It took me awhile to realize the concept of leverage when using the tire iron. Apparently, it extends and loosening the nuts became a lot easier once I figured out how unbecoming I was as an engineer. Ah well, I do nut like engineering anyway.

While basking in the sun and in the glory of my ineptness, I botched one of the nuts by accident. I was sure that I had the tire iron secured on the nut when I exerted tremendous rotational force using my body weight, but it turned out I only managed to shave off the nut head. I did nut think much of it (no surprises there), so I left it and went on loosening the others.

When I got back to it, I was gasping for breath. Man! Getting those nuts off was... nuts! It is bloody work! Anyway, when I could nut get it off as easy as the rest, I began to worry. I checked the nut head and...

... I freaking managed to reshape the nut head from a polygon into a circle!!!

Houston, we have a problem!

I had no choice but to drive the car to the nearest tire shop. Slowly, but surely, I reached one closest to my house. The foreman had a go at the nut, but even with all his tools he was nut able to get it off.

He then told me something nutty. He said I needed to weld it out. Holy nutcracker Batman!

I could nut believe my ears. Weld?!

Fortu-nut-ly, he managed to plug the hole in the tire while the wheel was on the car. At least, I could drive the car out. So, I went to an exhaust shop in Sunway hoping nut-ing would happen along the way.

Just in case you did nut believe me... he's welding the nut!

Apparently, in cases like this, what they do is weld another nut onto the head of the disfigured nut. Once it is welded on, they then take the tire iron and loosen the nut. Sounds like peanuts? Nut!!!

What happened was - by the way, they did this a few times - when they tried to turn the tire iron, the whole nut head got chewed off. There was no way to unhinge the nut now! This can-nut be happening!!!

Left with no choice, I left my car at the adjacent workshop. They told me that they need to drill the nut out somehow. By that time, nut-ing would make me happier than to get the nut out, so I agreed to leave my car over-nut.

Alhamdulillah, by the next day, they managed to get the nut out without damaging my rims that much. Immediately, I took the car to the tire shop to get the whole nut changed. And while I was at it, change the rear tires.

There is something nut-worthy to this story - do nut attempt to do things you are nut good at yourself. Leave it to the pros next time or nut you'll be looking at a hefty bill for no good reason.

*Phew*

All this nut talking is making me pe-nut (tired). What a nutcase! ;)

For Sell: Nissan Skyline R34 GTT

2011-01-04T22:21:00.002+08:00

Hi guys,

Unfortunately, I have to selling my beloved car. I have try my best to maintains the car, but now I cannot affords it anymore. I have writed to my boss - twice! - but to no availability.

I cannot takes it anymore. Thats mean I really have to let go of this beautiful car. I hope that the future owner will takes care of it better than I can.

Some info on the car:

Year Make:

Year of the Rat

Year Registered:

Year of the Monkey

Color:

Blue (People always told me it is red, but they all color blind one. It's blue, CONFIRM!)

Engine:

RB25DET NEO (Still standard with speed cut. I have tested this feature, it works.)

Selling Price:

RM133,000 only!!!

Please, no joy riders. Serious buyers only. Jokers will not be entertain.

If interested, you can contact me at petrolmahal@minyak.gov.my

2010

2011-01-01T08:13:00.003+08:00

It was a good year by my Skyline standards, at least, that's what I think. 2010 left an indelible mark on me mostly as the year that I propelled myself, rather undemocratically, to the rank of Class Monitor of the unofficial club - a moniker that doesn't seem to go away.

In applying this self imposed dictatorship, with the help of some dedicated henchmen, I set out to recapture the imagination of the Skyliners, whom, in my humble opinion, had drifted into groups incommunicado. Though this was not a crusade of righteousness nor was it a quest of vainglory, it was a genuine interest to be able to meet and to get to know other Skyline owners.

And, Alhamdulillah, did we achieve that!

The 2010 Mega Skyline Gathering.

The cataclysmic event was undeniably the Mega Gathering that we had back in mid year. What a fantastic show that was!

Ever since, I tried to organize few smaller sessions with my new found friends. And quite respectably, we managed to pull these off throughout the year:

3. Raya Minum2

As the curtain falls on 2010, I called upon the Skyline hordes for a final hurrah at the unofficial headquarters of the unofficial Skyline club. 11 cars showed up, braving the New Year's roadblocks and traffic jams.

Naklaju, Temujin, Blood Red, Sudut, Dr. D, Pimpin, Jahax, Nizam, Pokku, Rokok Sebatang, and Farish.

We capped off 2010 with two joy rides around the unofficial headquarter's unofficial track, one on Dr. D's infamous 4 door R32 and Naklaju's very laju (fast) R34 GTT with a really big turbine that whistles.

What a way to end the year.

I hope 2011 promises the same, if not better. I would like to take this opportunity to thank all the Skyliners that have supported me in all the events. I truly appreciate it. I hope you all had fun in everyone of them. If there were any shortcomings, which I am sure there were, I sincerely apologize for them.

And, needless to say, I would like to thank my loyal speed freak readers, who tune in to this blog every single day hoping that I would upgrade my car, but leaving with nothing but grandmother stories... you guys rule!!! You have certainly gave me the incentive to keep writing and for that, I thank you.

... if I might add, do browse through the ads you see on the top and on the right of the page because... they're awesome! Trust me folks, it would really help me keep this blog... interesting.

Till we meet again, have a great year ahead and may Allah be with you always. :)

Wassalam,

Azmir @ Blood Red @ Class Monitor

Blood Black (??) signing off for 2010. Adios!

Breakfast @ GTJ #1

2010-12-26T16:33:00.011+08:00

It was a Saturday afternoon. I received a distress SMS from Temujin who was trying to recruit Skyliners for a morning drive up to Goh Tong Jaya (GTJ). It would have been an innocuous request on normal circumstances, but the sting of urgency demanded immediate action. Apparently, the unplanned drive was scheduled for the next morning, beginning at 6:45am!

Almost instinctively, I leapt into action. As Temujin broadcasted in ZTH, I was busy fiddling with my phone, writing an SMS to the legions of Skyliners currently listed in my directory. Reply after reply came in, affirming in the negative. By dusk, we only managed to secure about 5 cars.

Unfortunately, that night, I was struck down by mild fever and nasal road block. After attending a private matter all the way to midnight, I was in no shape to participate in the morning drive. I felt dejected. This was to be my first ever drive on the twisty bends of Malaysia's back roads and I was staring at the possibility of missing out on it. Nevertheless, I set the alarm clock at 5:45am just in case the fever went away.

What a wonderful morning drive.

5:45am. I woke up to the buzzing of the alarm clock. I was feeling miserable still. I snoozed.

6:00am. Again, I fought sleep, but to no avail.

6:15am. It was time for Suboh. My body was aching and my heart was breaking.

6:30am. I tried to send SMS to Temujin, but it wouldn't leave the outbox. I sensed something amiss. I turned off the phone, and switched it back on. Suddenly, a flood of SMS came rushing into my inbox. Uncle Eagle had decided to spread his wings with us. Then, I texted Temujin to find out how many was on site and en route. Only 2.

Almost miraculously, the pain disappeared. I still had the chance to catch up with the boys, but I was still undecided. A short conversation with Temujin convinced me that I did not belong in bed that morning. Quickly, I jumped into the marked Red Rocket and sped my way to the meeting point - some 40km away.

I negotiated 30mins ETA, but I was only given 20. I wasn't about to argue. I was hell bent not to keep the guys waiting any longer than they had. Sadly, my good intentions were hampered by an annoying default setting that came with the car - the speed cut. I tried to go beyond 90kmph (ahem), but the car won't let me.

Zul's Zed made the most weirdest of sound. Like a constipated fart. :)

Alas, I was able to join the rest just before the turn in towards Ulu Yam. From then on, it was a festival of speed.

Since it was my first stint and with fresh tires to boot, I drove on the side of caution. Basically, this trip was to gauge how well I can drive the car and how much I understand it. Within few corners, I had already realized what needs to be done. Adjustable suspensions.

The car was like a boat on choppy waters. The standard shocks were not designed for exuberant driving on roads such as this. I kept bouncing off corners and cutting in on the other lane lest I have to invoke my superior drifting skills, of which I have none.

This gunmetal grey car is to be feared. It also makes funny noises when accelerating.

Midway through the course, I noticed another essential aspect of the car that needed attention. Brakes.

I could smell the pungent offspring from the brake pads coming into contact with the rotors. Traversing at the speed that I was on, I had little confidence in the car's stopping power. So I kept my distance from the car in front of me, just to give me enough room to maneuver should anything happen. My crisis of confidence was further exacerbated when my disc started to judder even under light braking.

The Volvo S40, right at the end, is not to be messed with.

But Alhamdulillah, we all made it safely to our end point. We refueled our bowels and enjoyed each others company (somehow that sounds so wrong) in the morning breeze of GTJ. I even showed the guys the iPad, which, coincidentally, is what I used to type 80% of this entry.

The acting Class Monitor. A very courteous driver. He signals right when a car does not give him way, waits patiently, while the rest of us overtake him on the left. Hahaha!

Uncle Eagle's. Sir, if you decide to go GT wing, I want your old wing!

In a Limbo contest, this sure as hell would win.

This car (whatever it is, I still don't know) makes the most thunderous roar! But still I manage to overtake him when there is a bump. :)

I am absolutely delighted that I made the trip. It was a fun outing with fellow classmates (Temujin, Jahax, Eagle, Pokku) and other schoolmates too (Bob, Zul, Hariz).

Breakfast @ GTJ

The marauders!

On the way back, it was all high speed chase on our numerous toll infested highways. Temujin noticed another thing that I need to make the car a complete package - the Power FC. Apparently, he detected that I was lagging behind after reaching a certain speed. ;)

Well, after this experience, Insya Allah, we will organize more for 2011. I hope more Skyliners can join in the fun. I certainly did. So, till the next Breakfast @ GTJ, drive safely folks.

Goodyear Formula Drift 2010 - Part 3

2010-12-24T22:14:00.001+08:00

Here's the video I made from the 2nd day of the Goodyear Formula Drift 2010. Enjoy!!!

Goodyear Formula Drift 2010 - Part 2

2010-12-19T22:22:00.019+08:00

Oh man. I really set myself up for disappointment.

Last year's Goodyear Formula Drift was the first drift event that I have ever attended in my entire banal existence and it totally blew me away. Everything about it was a family friendly fanfare with adequate facilities to support the basic needs of those in attendance. It was also well laid out for photographers to immortalize the drifters in action. Not even the rain could dampen the electrifying atmosphere generated by screeching tires from the drift cars.

Oh how different it was this year.

The venue of this year's Goodyear Formula Drift - in front of the historic Bangunan Sultan Abdul Samad (BSAS).

Granted that I didn't spend the whole weekend there to really absorb this year's Formula Drift spectacle, I can't help but feeling that it fell short from last year's event. Maybe it's because I took a wrong turn after exiting the LRT and found myself walking around Dataran Merdeka until I found the entrance, when I could have easily saved 10 minutes of walking with a heavy camera bag on my back had I bothered to check where the entrance was in the first place... but I'm just guessing here.

The whole arrangement and placement of paddock, sponsors booths, show cars, and F&B stalls were all far apart, which created a problem of accessibility. Look at the picture above, the drift cars were parked to the left at the far end of BSAS. You had to walk the length of the field just to get from there to the sponsors booths. Even the booths were laid out around the perimeter of Dataran Merdeka. I felt pity for some of the sponsors because their booths were all the way across the field (where I stood to take the picture) and they didn't get many visitors.

The only car worth looking at besides the drift machines :)

Now, what I'm about to say next might piss some people off. So just bear with me OK.

OK... show cars. Last year, they had these matte black wide body monsters on display with other cars like the souped up Evo and Subaru, even a turbocharged Toyota Vios! They were cars that you could really sink your teeth into and spend hours taking pictures of.

Can't say the same thing for this year's show cars. I really can't.

They had RX8s. Yeah sure, they're nice. Besides the EA game inspired police car, the rest were... normal 8s. Ok, go ahead, you can crucify me now, but lets not get emotional. Honestly, if it ain't done up, it's not worth looking at because you see so many RX8 on the street already.

Other than that, the rest were... ordinary? I think Sony Xplod had two demo cars. They should have blasted the sound system to really showcase their products. Instead, the car was locked. Also, I would have thought that it would be more meaningful to have their booth next to the cars. At least, that way they could have closed a sale or something. Unfortunately, their booth was located... way... way at the opposite end of the field.

I'm complaining a lot aren't I? There's more...

Sorry...

Honestly, I don't know what's so special about this car except for the stickers.

That's a MYEG car. Would you believe it?

I think that's the same Ferrari that showed up last year.

And then, the one thing that makes a car event worth attending was 'missing' - the umbrella girls, grid girls or whaccamacallit.

Ya ya ya... I know they were there, but they were scattered. When I arrived, I saw a bunch of MYEG babes standing on the field looking at the bleachers. Apart from them, I did see the Goodyear girls camping under the Goodyear tent, but they were no where near the number of eye candy they hired last year.

Funny thing was, last year, I wasn't really interested in taking their pictures. Instead I focused on the cars. This year, I came with the intention to take more of them with the cars, but got... nothing.

Sigh...

I was standing at the covered grandstand. This was my view.

Having said all that, thankfully, the main event was nothing short of fantastic! I am not a big fan of narrow drift courses because it restricts the movements of the cars, but what it does deliver is ample amount of bumper removal service. On this aspect, Sunday's event did not disappoint.

I don't know what is it about drifting, in short courses like this one, that appeals to me. Maybe it has something to do with my short attention span - I can concentrate on each 'race' from start to end without losing focus. I suppose its the 'ooohhs' and 'aaahhhs' and the 'dayyumnns!!' and the 'Oh no you didn't!' type of reactions that make it interesting to watch.

You gotta hand it to the drifters... they are freaking lunatics! I mean from where I was standing, there were mere inches that separates them from victory and a spectacular pile up. And being able to be so close to the drama was... exhilarating!

One of the very few photos I took.

I gave up taking photos by this time. I blame it on the angle.

In the end, nothing else mattered. It was about drifting and that was what the crowd - huge turnout by the way - got, myself included.

I would have loved for it to be at MAEPS where the first Formula Drift was held, but I guess the BSAS served as a perfect backdrop to a magnificent motor sport event.

I didn't take too many pictures, but I shall put up some videos for you to enjoy later, Insya Allah.

So stay tuned to this blog... for more drift action.

Goodyear Formula Drift 2010 - Part 1

2010-12-16T22:43:00.005+08:00

It was drizzling. I was driving back home from work right after lunch time. I had to take the rest of the day off because my mind was preoccupied with a lot of personal matters that would disable me from discharging my duties efficiently... hey, delegation is a duty too you know.

Anyway, in a momentary lapse of judgement, I turned off the TCS (Traction Control System) just to see how the car handles in the wet and to see how brave I was. Apparently, not very much.

I was approaching a bend, took the inside line, and at the apex, I applied a light tap on the gas when suddenly the tail went out before the car corrected itself. Truth be told, I wasn't even going that fast, but I could feel that I lost some control of the car when I switched off the TCS. My bald rear tires didn't help either.

Coming back to my senses, I drove back home - safely - with the traction control on. Scary.

I suppose I am one of those uncle drivers... let the professionals deal with drifting I'd say.

Hmmm... Oh speaking of which, coincidentally... I scored tickets to the upcoming Goodyear Formula Drift 2010!!!! :D

Thank you to my generous benefactor from Goodyear.

I can't wait to cover this year's event. I'll be sure to take lots of photos and videos!!! So stay tuned to this blog OK?

Remember these girls? I'm sure they're all grown up now. :)

Heh heh heh. 2 day pass, Grandstand! Thank you GOODYEAR!!!