Seekarlui and I are having dinner at Lala Cheong. With nothing better to do, we observe the family eating at the table next to us.

Seekarlui says, “Wah… That girl’s hair is so fook.”

Puzzled, I ask, “What the *&^%$$# is fook? Never even heard of this word.”

“Fook means straight, smooth and flows down nicely lah, you unwashed peasant,” Seekarlui retorts.

“You’re shitting me right?”

“Serious one…” Seekarlui pouts.

Ten minutes of peace ensue.

Suddenly Seekarlui exclaims, “Wah, look at that girl in the green dress! She has huge boobs.”

I choke on my soup.

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Endangered Species


Common Name: Ass Kisser

Scientific Classification: Charthai Jai

Physical Appearance: The Ass Kisser’s huge red lips are a prominent feature. The lips are constantly inflamed, and emits a faint shit-like smell.

Behavioural Characteristics: Generally incompetent and possesses virtually no skills. The Ass Kisser is not very bright, in fact, scientific tests have proven without a doubt that doormats are smarter. This species can often be found fawning and hanging around authority figures.

Habitat: Most Big 4 Accounting Firm offices. Continue reading

Soothing Tea


Have a nice, soothing weekend people.


I have always been complimented on my youthful looks in the past. Doesn’t happen anymore these days. I’d be really lucky if they get the decade right.

Nowadays, I get insults more than anything else. Sigh.

“Oi! You bald old man.”

“Yech. Get off me, you dirty old man.”

“Baldy, baldy, baldy. There’s a huge patch of bald on your head.”

“Wah… I jealous you. Your shampoo must last you like six whole months. Haircut cheap also, just pluck.”


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I cannot stand the clicking-sucking sounds some folks make with their mouths when trying to remove bits of food stuck in between their teeth.

“Ssssschack! Ssssschack! Ssss…”

It gets on my nerves.

I dislike Sunday evenings. They remind me of the fact that Monday is looming around the corner. I love my job, but I detest Mondays. If possible, I’d avoid it like the plague. Does that make me strange? Cos’ I contradict myself all the time.

But what I dislike even more than Mondays is working on Sundays. Sundays are meant to be spent lazing around, mucking about and doing some productive ass scratching. Instead, I’m stuck here staring at a workpaper so incompetently prepared I feel like shooting myself, repeatedly. With a water pistol. 

Arsenal better beat Manchester United States tonight. Otherwise, I’d be really, really tulan and cranky come Monday morning.

* * *

Newcastle 2 : West Ham 2 – Good comeback from behind.

Pool 2 : Chelshit 0 – Scousers steal posh London hubcaps. Nice one scousers.

Arsenal 2 : Manure 1 – Time wasting tactics backfire.

Exemplary Self Control

C. Lengus has been trying to encourage Chosim to quit smoking lately. An exercise in futility, if you ask me. But that would not discourage him one bit as C. Lengus, my boss, can perform amazing feats. He can consume an entire chicken murtabak with four mouthfuls. I swear, it’s an amazing sight to behold.

Our daily mamak sessions are most certainly colourful – a dinner and a show, they say. Chosim, Maxie and I would be ROFL-ing around and C. Lengus would be sitting on his chair blinking, looking remarkably like a chipmunk with too many nuts stuffed in his cheeks.

But, I digress.

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I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Maybe I’ll do both. Talk about prophetic words. Niamah.