Men! Dont read your wife's diary

There's this couple that's been married for 20 years, and she'd kept a diary stashed somewhere in the store feeding the silverfish for so long the cover's gone. One day hubby was looking for his drill bits and chanced on the journal. Blowing the dust of the book, he started reading, it got juicier and juicier. Now, if you think I'm going to give you the details, sorry. You'll just have to use your imagination.

Next thing we know, the wife crept quietly behind him and calmly tap him on the shoulder : "Whaddya think? Do you think it can be made into a blockbuster?". Startled, hubby quickly put down the book and muttered something about a career in carpentry. The conversation that ensued sounds like this:-

Startled hubby: Huh, er......hi...I was looking for my Carpentry for Dummies, what I got was this moth eaten Bible.....

Wife: Nice try. How many chapters have you read?

Hubby: This Bible? I was just about to open it, I hope its King James' Version....

Wife: Give me a break will you? I was watching you from a distance. Dont you ever respect a person's right to privacy?

Hubby: Ow, come off it, I was just into.....um...two pages only.

Wife: You know, you're sick.


From that day onward, the wife farts and pick her nose in his presence, burps at the table and break all the taboos on the list. What I'm trying to say here is a diary is so personal, so sacred that if someone ever reads yours, then you might as well break wind in his presence, for your soul has been already laid bare, spread-eagle for the world to ogled.

What I'm trying to portray here is that how time has changed. We write our deepest thought in a blog and invite the whole world to see! With a tremendous help from the electronic world of internet, what we see, feel, think, are all in our blog. And we want everybody in this planet to read and see that. And we like to peep into what other people have written about themselves. See, we are voyeurs and exhibitionists all at the same time, all thanks, or no thanks to blogging, whichever the case maybe for you.

Obama and Osama (part 2)

Obama's phone rang again

Osama: Salaam, brother, peace be upon you...
Obama (body goes limp, eyes roll up): What is it now?
Osama: Did you manage to get Condoleeza?
Obama: Honestly, I dont know what you see in this broad
Osama: It the gap on her front teeth, it makes me soooo horny just to look at her face....mmmuak!
Obama (shuddering with goose pimples): Look, its very dangerous to call me now, can you call after my inauguration?
Osama: Inauguration! That's why I'm calling you now, please can I come? Please?
Obama: C'mon, brother, I cant invite you, you know that!
Osama: I can shave clean, just lend me a tuxedo! I'll leave the AK47 at home.
Obama: Besides the FBI screen all guests, who are you going to pose as? Ambassador of Osamanistan?
Osama: I can slit of the guard's throat and put on his uniform.......
Obama: Okay okay whatever, let me beat Huckleberry...I mean Huckabee first.
Osama: I heard Hilary is going to sabotage you, you want me to fix her up?
Obama: No! Not now! Now don't call me again until I win okay?
Osama: Wait! Please put me sitting next to Condoleeza....
Obama (exasperated now): Geez! I'll put you next to Bush if you dont hang up now!
Osama: Okay okay! Cool it man, you're joking right?....hello....brother? hello?
Wow, these American are all the same, black or white.

Osama and Obama

Osama bin Laden on line with Obama. "Brother, as soon as you're elected lets throw a party okay?".
Obama: Are your crazy? This phone might have been tapped!
Osama: Nah, I check already, everything is cool, my men has got the AK47 all ready
Obama: Will you get serious? If Clinton knows I'm talking to you now, I'm history! Kaput! Say goodbye to the Presidency!
Osama: Why, you can always stage a coup....
Obama: Hmmm.. but how do I do that?
Osama: Brother, leave that to me. Thousand of my suicide bombers are at my command. I just create mayhem at the White House and help you seize the CNN....
Obama: I want that broad blown to smithereen!
Osama: What's in it for me?
Obama: Hey, man, we're brothers, remember? We'll talk again later okay?
Osama: Wait, I kind of like Condoleeza, can you do something?
Obama: Look I've got to go.......
(Heavy breathing from Osama)
Obama: Alright! alright! You got her!
Osama (grinning): like, spoils of war, right?
Obama: you dirty old fox! (click)

You can't call yourself a true-blue Siburian unless.... (Part 3 of the Trilogy)

1. You own a motor bike even though you have a 4x4 and a saloon car already.

2. You throw mammoth bashes to celebrate the 50th,60th,68th,70th,80th88th,90th(gasp)100th birthday of your parents/grandparents besides the 30th, 40th 50th ........ 80th.(fill in the blank)... anniversay of their wedding.

3. You consider it is compulsory to put up congratulatory messages/advertisement on all your relatives/friends' auspicious occations, examples (by no means exhausive) are as follows:-

- 70th birthday of your supplier's (who gives you six months credit term) father-in-law, full page.

-Your uncles and aunties' (your godpa and godma) 33rd wedding anniversary..half page.

-Your bank's branch manager (who approved your million dollar loan) got promoted to area manager. full colour double centre-spread.

-You customer (whom you give credit) moves to a new bigger house. half page.

-Your mother-in-law's birthday: 1/8th page.

-Your cousin (still owe you money) opens new shop. the classified section.


4. You consider obituary as essential reading, esp business associates' condolences message, for committing the sin of not publishing condolence msg to him will land you in to his blacklist, and thats not good for your biz.

5. You study other peoples' obits like a college student doing a project on his genealogy, checking whether so-and-so is related to you and how many kids and daughter-in-laws so-and-so has and how many of his kins share your surname.

6.You are always on the lookout for money-making kangtow. Thus you join an average of one MLM per month.

7. You have so much health supplement capsules (from the MLM) you give the expired ones to your mother- in-laws.(okay,okay, I make up this one, just sit down will you?).

8.You tell everybody you have a weekend retreat villa in Sungei Meelook or Aleemah (Your grandfather's dilapidated wooden house).

9. Your kids can repeat your childhood hardship stories with all the intricate details (you know, the rubber estate, pepper farm stories) by heart.

10. When you dont want them (your teenage kids) to disturb you, you simply say "when I was at your age....." they will all scamper off.

11.You belong to 50 associations and organisations like Chinese chamber of commerce, clan asso., dialect asso. surname asso. chess asso., (honorary advisor), wushu asso. (hon. auditor), guilds, and whatever there is to join.

12. You are a member of SUPP, but a closet DAP supporter.

Disclaimer: The above has been meticulously researched and edited for
political correctness (er...except for no. 12). Any disagreement with the above must be registered within 3 days for faster response, as the writer will assume a lapse of memory thereafter.

You can't call yourself a true-blue Siburian unless.... (Part 2)

1. You begin every sentence with "Sah ni koo..."

2. You wear gold necklace and bracelet as thick as "tik lien" (iron
chain)(credit to John for reminding me).

2(a) You wear ten rings on each finger, and each stone on it is as big
as ostrich egg.

3. You wear "Umbrella" brand (Arnold Palmer) collar t-shirt with loud
colour horizontal stripes, and loose fitting "Camel" shorts (or is it
pants?) with two dozen pockets of varying sizes. You bought them at Ngiu
Kee just before Chinese New Year, and will last you till the next CNY,
meaning your buy new apparels once a year only.

4.You file all your documents (4-D slips, photostats copies of land titles,
"555" note book, utilities bills, unpaid invoices, football bets and
passport of your Indonesian maid) in your breast pocket till it bulges
like a gunny sack.

5. Your command of Bahasa sucks like a first class vacuum cleaner yet
you talk to your bumi friends/workers as if its your mother tongue.
Excerpts:-

-Wa punya boss Latok Lau, lu tidak tahu meh?

-apaaa.. lu olang kuak bising

-wa mau tengok lolok... mah

-saya sudah bayar leh!

-lu ada pee gee sana meh?

-kopi-o satu, jangan kuak manik oh!

6. Your command of Iban? suffice to say you only know one phrase:- "Aku
nak nemu...oh", which is enough to make your listener switch to the next
best avenue of communication ie your atrocious Bahasa

You can't call yourself a true-blue Siburian unless....

1. Your first stop upon arriving back in Sibu is to make a beeline for
Ang kow's kampua mee.

2. You have 60 friends with the names like Ah Nong or Ah Teh.

3. You consider sitting in coffee shop for 4 hours firing cannons with
Ah Nongs and Ah Tehs is not wasting time, but networking.

4. You sit down in a coffee shop and expect the waiter to remember you
order everytime, (it's "mien tai peng").

5. You whip out your tube of nose decongestant and stick it up your hairy
nostril, and leave it hanging there nonchalantly for all the world to see.

6. You sit cross-leg on the chair, picking your toe nails
intermittently, while waiting for your buddies to come.

7. One plate of kampua is not enough to whet your appitite (spelling?),
you have to take two plates.

7(a). For you, the best char mien (fried noodle) is the legendary Ah
Ngie's, unfortunately he'd kicked the bucket already. For you, Ah Ngie's
char mien is benchmark for all Sibu's char mien.

7(b). You can "gaaarg...ptuiiiiiii" anywhere you like, Sibu is a
spitter's paradise.

7(c). When you finish smoking, you flick the butt at a passing dog/cat

7(c) You hate Robert Lau till your gut spilt, yet you shake hand and
smile at him during election campaign.

8. Your car is parked only one spit away, even though it is blocking
others.

9. You consider hairs growing from facial moles as sacred and never to
be trimmed.

10. You know the country phone codes of PNG, Brazil, Solomon Island, Russia and Central Africa but don't know the one for Singapore.

11. You buy "Compact" toilet rolls by the hundreds when its super
duper cheap.

11(a) You surely have one or two relative who is still staying in "sam
pah" (forest) like Sungei Meelook, or Aleemah or whatever.

12. You pack cartons of "kompia" when you go home overseas, (or even
Kuching, like me).

Project H45W1E: A general report

My daughter, Pauline rolled her eyeballs skyward when I suggested making a trip to Sabah, knowing my constant penchant for what she term "futile musings" she would just leave it at that, little realising this time I meant business. Is this what they call under-promise and over-deliver? Whatever.

Anyway, this was my game plan: First I squeezed Tony Fernandez until I was able to slash the transportation bill to bare-bone level. Next, for accomodation, I pulled in my Mum, to ensure free lodging at her sister's (my aunt)house. Next my niece, Joanne, whose constant snail mail pen-pal contact with my aunt's grand daughter Daffodil, provided a valid excuse to "pay her a visit". Ingenious eh! Mind you, I only share this brilliant idea codename :H45W1E "Holiday For Five With One Excuse", with whoever reads this, and lucky you!

Tension mounted as the Boeing landed on the Kota Kinabalu International Airport. Finally at the exit of the arrival hall, the two pint-size pen-pals met for the first time. Shy glances, sheepish grins as the two girls shook hands. They did'nt even talk in the car on the way home. What a difference from the union of the crying North and South Korean siblings long separated, as seen on TV. But within five days these two girls were to bond like super-glue and inseparable like Siamese twins.

For the next 5 days, we were treated to the whole gamut of Sabah's culinary delights ranging from the legendary Yew Kee Bah Kut Teh, to the to-die-for sea food and exquisite dim sum. We were chauffered here and there to ogle at the sights of the city, which in nearly ten years since I left, had morphed into a thriving and lively city with many new places and high rise buildings.

We also took a choppy ride in a speed boat to Manukan island and the sight of the multicolour fishes simply blew us away! My daughter and the two little terrors (by now) just squealed and shriek their ponytails off. The weather was just perfect for getting a sunburn, so, not wanting to be roasted like a suckling piglet, I decided to join my sister (Joanne's mum) under the shade. Alas, it was not to be. My toothless Sabah niece thrushed a mass of uninflated rubber dinghy at me and smiled. Actually she wasnt toothless, at age seven, she was in the process of dropping off her milk teeth, and they were like the Great White's row of teeth, sharp, serrated and evilly tinged with black plaque or whatever. Damn, I should have taken a close-up of her smile and exhibit them here for posterity.

Anyway, back to the rubber dinghy. So I asked her whether she brought along an air pump. What air pump? Oh oh! I sized up the mass of crumpled rubber and reckoned it must have meant blowing up 30 - 50 good sized balloons, and she was impatient! I must have taken about 15 minutes to fully inflate it, by then I was so friggin' groggy I must have tottered out of the shade and was able to see stars even in the bright sunlight! With my head still spinning as a result of siphoning my body's oxygen to the rubber boat, the squealing threesome of Pauline, Joanne and Daffodil rushed headlong into the warm, South China Sea with their inflated dinghy.

We also drove all the way to the Kinabalu National Park. Mountains have always fascinate me and one of the unforgettable sights of Mount Kinabalu (even though I have been here several times, but not to the peak) is this massive massif looming up in front of you as you get nearer and nearer, four majestic kilometres high, of craggy blueish tinge, sometimes wisps of clouds sweeping by. There are also "waterfalls" running down its gullies, bare rocks and forested fringe. For a guy who spend two scores of his life in pancake-flat Sibu, the word to describe this sight is spelt A-W-E-S-O-M-E. Frankly I dont know how I'd feel if I were to stand atop Low's Peak, I'd probably freaking pass out.

We passed by Kundasang, a quiant little market town with stalls alongside the main road hawking vegetables, fruits and tourist trinkets. However the multitudes of flies there make their presence there in a most disgusting manner, landing atop all the food. There is a nice resort, The Kinabalu Pine Resort is worth an overnight stay. I stayed there once with a few buddies many years ago. I remember vividly, in the evening, as the sun set, you sit on the balcony in an easy chair with the massive forlorn face of Mt Kinabalu looking at you, quietly, mysteriously. I tell you, you suddenly feel you become a wiser man/woman (though only for an evening). Let me recap. Cost of petrol to Mt. Kinabalu RM55. Cost of a double room at Kinabalu Pine Resort RM150. Cost of becoming a wise man after a close-up look at Mt Kinabalu : Priceless.

Dining in Kota Kinabalu can be a very intimate experience. I know because I was working here for one and a half years. I have came to love what the local call "kon-low meen", Sabah's answer to Sarawak's kolo mee, the kaya roti kahwin, the dim sum at Luyang (esp the chee cheong fun), Wei Ya Chicken rice (near Wisma Merdeka) and Gaya Street's Bah Kut Teh, my perrenial favourite. Kuching's laksa is also sold here, and I've tasted it too, but sorry, I have to reserve that compliment to good ol' Kuching. We ate at air con restaurants and open air sea food restaurants and despite the myth about costly eating out in Sabah, it was actually quite cheap. For slightly over a hundred ringgit, our entourage of 10 were burping and happy like Dagwood Bumpstead, granted half our group are kiddies. Of course there are time when it cost more. We almost tried the famous Saturday/Sunday brunch buffet at the Promenade (RM45.00), but it was solidly booked out even though we call out a day earlier to book.

The Damai area Roti Kawin needs a special mention here. We were coasting around the area at 2pm on a Saturday afternoon. Daffodil's dad, Jackie said, if do not try the roti there, its like not visiting KK at all!!! Wow, strong words indeed. What's so kick-ass delicious about this outlet's roti kawin. I worked in KK for so long and never heard of this place. Jackie told me it was only famous just about nine years ago, mmmm....that explained how it escape my tastebuds. Anyway, when we arrived at the place, my jaw dropped (again). It was total mayhem, the sea of humanity jostling to get a piece of the action. We had to stand next to a table with a couple who were munching their bread nonchalantly, oblivious to the shouting of the waiters and our glances. There was only standing room and not much place to move about. Hey, I've heard of coffee shop with good business, but this is ridiculous! Having to stand and waiting to pounce on a just-vacated table like playing musical chair. Boy, this roti kahwin better be good or I'm going to ask for refund. I dont know whether I was hungry that afternoon, but I found myself wolfing down several "sets" of the roti (one set is a rectangle of two pieces cut diagonally, swiped with sinfully sweet and flagrant kaya, and two thick slabs of frozen butter). As you sink your teeth into its soft and springy textured bread, muuuuunch sloooowly, and take a sip of your glass of teh-c (EVERYBODY order teh-c here, the best there is by far), all distractions and noise just disappeared. Which explained why patrons here have this out-of-the-world look on their face and lost all civility and courtesy in giving their seats to those waiting even though they'd finished eating. By the way if you do pass by this way, order the plain untoasted roti kahwin, not the toasted ones. As for the rest of the culinary stories, like the bah kut teh, please remind me to relate it another time, as this manner of describing food make me a bit giddy.

All good things must come to an end. So it was that day Sunday, as we packed and set off for our last breakfast together with my aunt, her daughter (my cousin), her hubby and three kids, and we five Kuching tourists (sort that out yourself). It was a cloudy morning and cool as we ate breakfast. How lucky we were, while my wife and my elder daughter were languishing in the miserable wet weather of London, swallowing mash potato and fish and chips, we were having a gastronomical feast here. Hahaha! Actually my wife was accompanying my elder daughter to "shop" for a suitable university for her Master's Degree. Like we in the phone business are so used to hear customers say, "survey dulu".

At the departure lounge, the Siamese twins had to be separated at last, and strangely they were quiet again, like when they first met, while Pauline looked on bemused as she was not a party to this kiddie bonhomie, being of different age group. Anyway it really amazed me that kids too can have such intense love for each other when they choose to. But separate they must, and this time the long lost Korean siblings analogy gets played again, except the kids are quiet and quite controlled of their emotion. My mum hugged her sister, there was no tears but I felt they wept in their heart. Orientals are not suppose to display affection publicly.