Of Happiness and Valiums

Chronicling my strife with the universe.

APAcS’ Mingle-mingle in the Park; July 2007

with 4 comments

Organised none other by;

UiTM’s Association of Professional Accountancy Students (APAcS)

Read a particular older post, and you know why I have deep-seated dislike for APAcS. Actually, it spanned long before the dinner when I was subject to one of the world’s most disproportionately lame “Mingle-mingle in the Park OMG WE USE GRAND PRIX THEMES AND BANNERS HOW COOL IS THAT?!?LOLOOLOL!!1!11” program.

All thanks to who? Let’s say it together now, Thank You Apeks!

It was an introductory program for new students. We’re supposed to: Develop friendship bonds and mutual trust amongst professional accountancy students through a day filled with sporty and fun activities! New and old merge together to eliminate the dark abyss of enmity and find the solitary light of strengthened ties and bonds!

Bonds like these… *cough*

So as I missed my own personal program of killing newborn babies and mutilating children for this funfilled activity of orgies and crystal meth, I met some new friends. It was surprisingly exciting! We had so much similarity and chemistry thanks to that event that… wait. I can’t remember who they are. Ah well. At least I remembered that they looked stupid.

He’s thinking ‘Shit… Did I close the door too hard?’

I had the misfortune to be in full health on that particular day. Why must you not answer my prayers for stomach cramps, God. Why?! For Izyan though, halfway through, she actually got stung by a bee and had a nasty allergic reaction. Her face was all puffed up, her body parts swollen and red patches showed up everywhere. She had to go to the clinic (Guess who sent her there? Haha. It’s how the love started growing) and spent the whole day throwing up and sleeping.

She gets all the luck.

Anyway, the program was supposed to be a treasure hunt. We were segregated into groups of (I don’t remember so here’s a random number) 239, and would each be represented by an APAcS member as our facilitator. Guess who I got? The President of APAcS himself.


‘Iffah: That’s the president of APAcS? …Is he standing behind that stupid looking guy, or…?

Me: No, no. I think that’s him.

‘Iffah: Damn.

Me: Well, at least we got each other.

‘Iffah: Uh, you’re on your own man. I’m with Ferrari.

Me: Right. Who did you get?

‘Iffah: …Him.

Me: …Is he standing behind that stupid looking guy, or…?

For completely perplexing reasons, my facilitator’s nickname was KE, his actual name being Fathinufikri. He probably thought having a nickname that bore no actual resemblance to your actual name and refusing to clarify what it stands for makes him sound cool. That’s his vice. I’m just gonna call him Fatin from here on out.

I expected Fatin to be annoying, hell I wanted him to be annoying. The people that rudely woke me up at 6am for ten hours worth of needless exercise has an unwritten rule to be annoying, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t pleasant either, he was just… in the background.

By this time, my stomach was rumbling so loud that it sounded like a stomach rumbling loudly. We sat in this bench-equipped, mid-sized gazebo thingy.

Bench-equipped, mid-sized gazebo thingy

As I arrived, they were already passing out breakfast. Delicious, mouth-watering breakfast in the form of bottled water and RM0.60 Gardenia bread. As I muttered death curses, my love for APAcS grew.

<3 APAcS

After all that, we got into our groups, introduced each other, elected a leader (This guy elected himself and too pissed to care, we agreed. Ahh democracy), and had to draw a group flag. My group was named Spyker and we were so overflowing with enthusiasm and creativity that we drew an ‘S’ with spikes. By ‘We’ I meant the three domineering personalities stepped up while I was imagining the blades of grass to be little miniatures of them and stepping on in with much fervor.

We took longer than the others because ours was a very complex design of a squiggly line-ish S with really fancy looking thorns! See, the trick is to make the ‘S’ look like an ‘S’. Ahhhh. When they were done, I was much impressed and as I stared appreciatively at the S, the ‘spikes’ and the two blazing fires inexplicable added as an afterthought, I thought fondly; ‘Fuck these people are artistically challenged.

Gifted people! Let’s enroll them in special ed.

So then, the race was about to start. We had to bring the embarrassing flag wherever we went so the leader tied it around his neck. We were pumped. We were ready.

The race started.


I ran like HELL… until my legs gave out after approximately five seconds. Then I just started jogging and made sure I kept the back of my teammates within visual reach so as to not get lost.

Five minutes of running later, we came to our first ‘pit stop’ (OMG ANOTHA CREATIVE REFERENCE TO FORMULA 1!!!!1!1LOLOMGZORZ!1!!1!1OLOLOL1!) There were a lot of people there as we waited our turn (two others teams got there first despite my energised running) so as we waited, I did the thing with the grass again.

I was so paying attention during the first pit stop! I know exactly what they were doing! They’re, uh, circling a pink shirted guy while staring at the guy having an apparently great time with that black plastic bag.

By the time I killed my 11th blade of grass/imaginary person, I realised that all three teams were running off already, while some new ones just arrived waiting for their turn for the next clue. I was about to locate my members among the three teams that were starting to head in separate ways, then it dawned on me. After ten minutes of introducing ourselves to each other, fifteen minutes spent having deluded thoughts of being artistic, and five minutes of visually remembering how sweat-drenched their backs were getting, I can’t for the life of me, recall their faces.

Oh shit.

Just as I was about to go off to a quiet corner and sleep panic, a guy whom I assumed to be a team member, patted me lightly on the shoulders and gestured with a nod for me to follow him. I was like, bitch please, do I look like yo’ ho? *snaps fingers* so grateful to him that I did follow suit. Luckily enough, he was indeed a team member and not a random rapist that I blithely followed around. I would thank him, but then I forgot his face too.

Next pit stop was a bit of a hassle. We couldn’t decide where to go next. Wordlessly, like a hero with the artistic cape that would have Da Vinci rolling in his grave billowing in the wind, the leader just started to run off confidently towards god-knows-where and we were proud we had chosen him as he made his way towards getting us lost two times. Losing hope, we then secretly looked to other teams (hoping to follow their tracks and find out where the next stop is) while pretending to be merely scanning the area, checking for wind velocity or weather conditions to make optimal decisions.

Doing just that, we soon got lost for the third time (this time with new company). Quite unexpectedly, an APAcS member the President happened to bump into whispered to him where to go next. I knew fair-play and skills would eventually prevail. And did you know that this other team that got us lost actually had the gall – once they ascertained that we knew the exact location – to be secretly looking at us, following our tracks closely and finding out the next location thanks to our extenuated efforts, while pretending to be merely scanning the area? Parasites.

At the next pit stop, the challenge was on a life-sized ship model so today, with immense creativity somehow being the recurrent theme, we had to re-enact Titanic. Yes, the movie that every thirteen year old girl swore to have watched at least two dozen times. Two members were supposed to be Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet (I’m sorry I haven’t watched the movie so I don’t know the characters names), while the others in the background would dance and sing that song by that Canadian singer, you know, My Heart Will Go On, by that, that transvestite looking singer… you know? God someone tell me her name it’s killing me.

Geez how much longer must I keep this pose? Must.. grope.. breasts..

Look! I’m doing a lame pose pretending lamely to be handling a lame stationary object! Cool, right? Cool…

Eager to contribute to the team, two faggots valiant heroes volunteered to be Kate and Leo, while the others, especially myself, danced gracefully under the scorching afternoon sun. The dancing and singing only lasted two sexual harassment potential lawsuits later and fulfilled only one person’s gay sex fantasies (Does the president look queer to you too?). And there’s a picture of us too, try to spot me!

Oi!! Where my pretty face leh?!?!

Fuck. No wonder viagra was concocted.

Next pit stop was easy enough as the President extracted more information from his fellow APAcS members. I knew gay people are useful. It’s like, the natural order of the universe or something. So useful gay boy led us to another pit stop in no time at all and this time it was guarded by Kak Fatty, the anorexic whom I would later befriend.

You thought one of them is Kak Fatty and I was about to point her out, don’tcha? Haha, suckers!

The challenge was tough. Sing Negaraku following the rhythm of My Humps. It was the toughest because I hurt my stomach trying to hold in my laughter as they melodiously sang;

“Ne-ne-.. eh…”

“Ne-ga-ga eh…”

“Ne-ne-ga-ga-ra-ku! Ne… EH EH”



Now, gay boy again extended his influence and we got off easy. Off to the next pit stop. This one was when we had to do the ‘jalan itik’ in a line, following a spiral pathway.

Must… hold… in… fart… Oops! Sorry flag wearing guy now with crazed loon expression on face! >.>

I’m happy.. happy.. Gonna shove this bottle up their goddamn assholes.. Happy happy…

Happy… happy… Fuck I need a bottle… Happy happy…

I was actually crawling when one of the ones who were looking over us noticed and gave me the stink eye. I immediately pretended to be limping, wincing my face as if in pain and I don’t know if he fell for it, but I was studiously looking at the sky, avoiding his stare as he gave the decision if we passed or not.

We passed. Haha sucker. On to the next!

…I forgot what we did for the next one but I definitely remembered that we then had a short break.

A-ha, bananas! Very suggestive indeed! I told you something gay-ish was at play! Did you listen, did you?!

I was with ‘Iffah, seriously discussing world matters such as where’s the crystal meth and I did not see no orgies, them liars when Izyan came up to us and said she might want to be excused early. She was feeling itchy all over after getting stung by some insect.

I thought then, damn what a brilliant strategy. I can’t claim insect bites too since it won’t be original so maybe I should fake a broken neck? while ‘Iffah considered spraining an ankle sometime between Izyan telling us her plans and right then. Izyan lost patience for her two unbelievably stupid friends and proceeded by herself to tell an APAcS member who shooed her away, as he was tending to another person who beat ‘Iffah into faking a sprained body part. Only when Izyan broke out in red spots and resembled a boiled lobster did he call on to… jeng jeng jeng. Mr H! Mr H drove her to the clinic and that’s when the love blossomed… more on that later. Let’s focus on my pain.


After the break, we started the activities again. This time it was less of a gayfest than before, but with more physical type activities. Oh wait. It’s just as much of a gayfest as before.

They gave us sheets of newspapers and we were supposed to lay it on the ground. Then, all of us would squeeze into our small little enclosed barrier set out by the newspapers and the rule is to see how long you would be able to maintain balance before someone in the team trips and causes the whole thing to topple like a deck of house cards. You had to last for thirty seconds, too.

Quick! Take advantage of the girls! Grab her ass! Her breasts are open for access, go! Go! …Fuck man, did you just feel me up me with your tool?

So basically, the gist of it is that if one person screws up, he screws up the whole thing and ultimately disappoints everyone else. Great strategy for fostering team spirit!

See what you did, orange-shirted guy!? I now upturn my ass to yo’ face.

Then, the newspapers would reduce in numbers and eventually in size. Finally, it would be how many people you could fit into in that folded newspaper and how long you would last. The end battle had two teams battling it out on a newspaper folded 1/8th of its size. Two guys on each team and a folded newspaper. I believe the strategy they played was guy’s crotch against another guy’s neck.


Now, I don’t know which pervert came up with this challenge, but I honestly thought it was really awkward, especially given the close proximity of both sexes. And you thought UiTM students were conservative people.

Anyway, when it was my turn (before the size reduction and they decided they weren’t gonna use me anymore since I was among the tallest girls. Well that’s what they told me, but I knew it’s because you think I’m fat. Isn’t it. Isn’t it!?!), and the whistle blew indicating the start of the thirty seconds, I can feel two pairs of breasts pushed against my back. Some other members looked as if they were giving each other buttsecks and I had to wonder what was playing in Gay Boy’s mind, with a guy to his front and two more pushing against him in the back.

‘Iffah and I were giving meaningful looks across the yard. Well, they fulfilled one expectation. Now we just had to wait for crystal meth.

After that, it was a variety of lame tag-team races. You know, three-legged race, something-in-your-mouth-race (ahem), the sort. In the one where we had to run with our hands behind our back and dig for sweets in a pot of flour I sort of ran into trouble. The moment I got back to the starting line I sort of got ick-ed out and spat the flour and sweets out. Now look who happened to be lucky enough to suddenly pop up in front of me just as I spat. >.>

Suffice to say, I spent the remaining races analysing with intense concentration the blueness of the sky while avoiding the President’s eye.

At least it matches your teeth!

Short break. Prayers. Hot tea. Scalded myself. Saw that Shukri was trying to flirt with Farah, and as Farah gave me a help-me-please look, I felt like I really shouldn’t butt in and the sky suddenly became all the more interesting. So blue…


The third part of that day’s activity was probably the most annoying. They had us knee-deep in a dirty, stagnant lake as they asked us the riddle and we had to answer it if we wanted to get to dry safety. I was trying not to imagine the invisible worms worming its way through my pants, into my epidermal layers and onto my vein, swimming blithely in my bloodstreams before I die by an unexplained viral disease few seconds later. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Gayboy. Newspaper. Three other guys. Orgy. Pictures. Blackmail. Relaxing… relaxing…

Finishing that, we had to go somewhere. I think it was to the animal pens. Then a god awfully lame animal riddle was asked and I contributed in the discussion for the right answer by having a serious debate with my shoelace. Some members figured it out and got the answer right but they didn’t even thank us! I might not have gotten the answer, but shoelace and I really racked our brains! Heathens. We then had to imitate animals in which I don’t know what the fuck I imitated and I swore a member was imitating a bitch in heat but hey, we passed.

Last one was the most annoying, let me tell you that. We had to wallow in knee-deep mud searching for… strings. Three inches of strings in a mud pool as big as a football field.

Wow, I bet it’s hard to find something that you’ve dropped in this mud…. Hey I wonder if she’s wearing contacts. I bet she needs a sudden, strong pat in the back!

Well, I gave up any hope of unearthing this godforsaken string even before I took off my shoes and joined my fellow comrades, so basically I passed my time drawing smilie faces in the mud with my finger over and over again. Then this thing happened. My first recollection of Hariz. He was in some other team and he was not far from me when he discovered a string. He jumped up and down, screaming ‘DAH JUMPE!!! DAH JUMPE!!!’ until his voice broke and he proceeded to run in the mud towards his other teammates. That’s when he splashed mud onto my tudung, my clean shirt I just changed into, and into my mouth.

Hmm… mud + water + a lot of people… Why, of course we jump!

I was not mad at him at all though, nope. I just spent the remaining minutes drawing my stick figure killing his stick figure over and over again, admiring his zealousness in my mind while slipping words like fucker, faggot, ass-rapist and I-swear-I’ll-have-a-castrated-vodoo-doll-of-you to complement the positive perspective I viewed him in.

Then suddenly, while I was perfecting the skirt folds of my beautifully drawn stick figure, a girl shouted out to me;

‘Hey Aziemah. You can come out now, someone’s found the string.’

I was smiling at her, my mind whirring with attempts at recalling her name and the possibility of her getting angry if I replied with; ‘Okay… you person, you.’

She helped me out and said ‘I saw how hard you were searching for that string. You were really concentrating on the mud and it’s like you were in your own zone.’

‘It was really hard to find.’

‘Yeah… It’s a good thing you’re so committed now, you seemed dispirited earlier.’

‘Oh yes, sorry about that. Anyway, I just wanted to contribute as much as I can for this last task, you know?’

‘I know. It’s great to have you in our team.’


Dusk came. Prayers again. Short break. Packed dinner in which I didn’t eat! Wow. Now it was time for… performances!


Spyker (PH33R TEH FIERY SQUIGGLY S! ARR) had to act out a news report or something. We had a newscaster, a weatherman, few other news spokesperson, and a person who stood in a dark corner while phisophilising with her shoelace on the meaning of life and hey what goes well with over-salted fries?

Guess which one I was! :D

Most of the performances were lame though.

No, I don’t know why the guy in grey is having a mangasm either. Maybe they performed really, really well? (Only picture I could find on the performances, btw)

I was doing something during most of them, I can’t remember what. It was either the shoelace or my newly found friend, the patch-of-dirt-on-my-shirt-sleeves that engrossed me in deep conversations throughout but one team did manage to grab my attention. They had to do a catwalk. It was hilarious and I actually laughed! The shoelace had some mean things to say though, that cynic.

Bollywood and dangdut songs played. Lame host trying to be funny. Prizes given out.

You know, speaking of the host, I despise the guy. I don’t know how to spell his name, but phonetically it’s Razi. Look out for him, he’ll be in a future Special Loser Feature.

And we came to an end. Every team won a hamper and as they were sharing it amongst the team members, I politely declined my share of prize snacks because they were the cheap kinds, those cheap bastards I was surged with a feeling of sharing, love and camaraderie.

I didn’t quite say goodbye to my teammates or the facilitator because despite spending half a day with them, I only remembered their names to be ‘You… That chick… That guy… Self-elected leader… Gayboy… Person… What-the-hell-is-up-with-that-hair… Nice rack…’ etc. Oh hey I just realised why my Mak Long calls me anti-social! :D

When I arrived to my room, I was greeted back by a pale looking Izyan who just woke up from sleep. I immediately recounted the events that she luckily missed:

‘It was great! After you left, the activities were so cool! Food was great! I actually had fun.’


‘Yeah. And the performances? They were genius. I didn’t know we had such funny people around. I was entertained through and through.’

‘What did they have?’

‘Catwalk, newscasting (shit shit what else ah what else) and some other stuff you just had to see for yourself lah, it’s not as effective when I tell it to you’


‘Hey don’t sound disappointed. Your day can’t be that bad.’

It was. But I continued to tell her what fun I had, regardless. You should’ve seen me during the race! I was among the fastest and I was among the most focused when we had to go through the mud if you don’t believe me ask this girl with a super nice rack and then during the performance… oh hey don’t throw up now. I’m not done talking yet. Yeesh you can be so inconsiderate sometimes hey I’m hungry. Do you have any food. Sloppy gruel sounds nice eww stop making that puking noise, etc etc.

It was an unforgettable day, because it marked the day I first started hating APAcS. I’m more mellow now though, now that I’ve befriended some of the members that I find to be really nice, competent and cool. The members I won’t do individual insults of since they’re now granted immunity thanks to these few friends I’ve made.

For now.

Note; thanks to nodie (an APAcS member) for these pictures and being so stalkable online. Thanks also to the APAcS’ Friendster profile.


Written by aziemah

May 22, 2008 at 6:45 pm

Posted in APAcS

Tagged with , , , , ,

4 Responses

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  1. Oh it cant be that bad. ur so cynical sometimes. if only u’d try enjoying urself, u probably would. whats the point in hating so much about the place when ur gonna be there for a loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong time?


    May 24, 2008 at 6:12 pm

  2. It was my first few weeks there and I was wallowing in self-pity. I was hell bent on hating the event, so how could I not have? :P Relax Maynard, I like it in UiTM now, but that won’t stop my cynicism or introversion.


    May 26, 2008 at 5:03 am

  3. Somehow i missed the point. Probably lost in translation :) Anyway … nice blog to visit.

    cheers, Chaser


    June 20, 2008 at 12:25 pm

  4. Haha .. I can’t believe that they still have the Mingle2 at the godforsaken-dead-end place … 2 years I was there I never attended even one! Let me guess they despise you for speaking english better than them?


    December 3, 2008 at 3:16 pm

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