I had a great time during my campus days. The campus community especially the residential college communities were really lively. Every weekend there would be a dance party in one of the residential colleges somewhere. I was then playing in my college band and we were booked full. Some student groopies would attend every party just to enjoy listening to us or get close to us. I enjoyed being a mini rock star.
My residential college community did not tolerate those who did not mix well with others. I remember a chap who tried to stay alone and aloof and never bother to even greet fellow residents. One fine morning he went to the bathroom whistling loudly along the way. But the whistling stopped abruptly as soon as he opened the bathroom door, for there he came face to face with a brand new Honda Cub next to the toilet. Mind you this bathroom was on the third floor of the hostel. Looking at the number plate it dawned on him that the cub was his. He ran around knocking door after door asking for volunteers to carry his machine down but only met with laughters after he told them what had happened. When we felt that he had learnt his lesson we all helped him bring down his motorcycle. After that incident he mixed well with other residents and even joined the college band.
There was an Indian student named Rama who made clear that he must graduate with a first class honours even though he was in his first year. Anyway he studied really hard. On the night before his first year exam he studied up to midnight and set his alarm clock to 5am to continue his last minute preparation before his 9am paper. In his haste he set the clock to 5 but forgot to rewind it. The alarm did not go off at 5 and he woke up at 8. He looked at his clock. It showed 3 but the sun was already up. Snatching his wristwatch he then realised that his clock went dead at 3. He started to howl and cry and told everybody that he did not want to take his exam for he would surely fail if he did. We did all we could to persuade him to sit for his paper and finally he relented. Hours later he came back again crying and howling blaming us for persuading him to take his exam. He said he was sure that he could not score high and therefor he wanted to commit suicide. Every one was alarmed and started to dissuade him from committing such a stupid act. Some reminded him of god and some his family etc but he was so adamant. Finally one guy who really got fed up with this chap's antic told him to go ahead. So he went to the varsity lake but came back a half hour later. We then asked him, "Are you Rama or the ghost of Rama?". He pointed to the leg of his pant which was wet at the ankle and told us that he failed in his suicide bid as the water was too shallow. By then we could read his antic and told him that we would help him commit suicide by throwing him right to the center of the lake. He immediately told us,"No, no, no...actually I didn't jump into the lake. I just jump into the drain nearby". From then on he was known as Chicken Rama.
We used to have what we termed as 'panty raids". These were events when students from the boys' residential colleges raided the girls' residential colleges. If the boys failed to conduct these raids for more than a fortnight the girls would provoke the boys to do so by calling them all types of names that degraded their manhood. Feeling challenged the boys normally organised them. The girls got ready by splashing soap water on the floor. When the boys rushed in they would fall all over the places and the girls would spray them with fire hoses and the water fight ensued till one party surrendered. If the boys were defeated they would retreat gentlemanly and planned the next raid. If the girls were to lose the boys would confiscate at least three items of ladies undergarments as the spoils of war. The victors then would organise a victory procession around the campus on motorcycles. The boys at the front end of the procession would be wearing bras, panties, petticoats etc which were confiscated earlier. The procession would end in front of the main library where the spoils of wars were then hoisted up the flag pole with this song repeatedly accompanying:
Daisy, Daisy...show me your grassy land
I'm half crazy my ???? is on the stand
You are of the feminine gender,
Your ???? are soft and tender
So lift up your frock, I'll shaft in my ????
On a bicycle made for two
The funny thing was that nobody complained. Not the students nor the authority. Sometimes even policemen in their patrol cars waved at us with broad smiles.
So that's it for now. Bye and have a nice day
Friday, February 19, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Old Jokes - A Reminiscence
I stopped writing for a while (in fact I thought for good - kaput) since there was no response to my jottings. I felt deserted in my attempt to interact with the cyber community. Now with better responses I somehow feel recharged and encouraged. I feel more urged to resume my effort to interact with those who love a little smiles and laughters here and there, now and then rather than debate endlessly over some hate messages. Hmmm...maybe I am too impatient as a beginner.
We were taught in school that Newton's Law Of Gravity was discovered after an apple fell on the head of this Newton guy. I heard another version though. It happened here in our country long before Malaysia is called Malaysia. Pak Hussin, a padi farmer was sitting under a coconut tree figuring out the effort needed to fight gravity in order to raise water from a nearby stream to his padi field. Unfortunately a ripe coconut fell on his head and he died instantaneously giving him no chance to finish his work on his Law Of Gravity. Just imagine if it was just a mango that fell on his head, today's Law Of Gravity could have been known as Pak Hussin's Law Of Gravity instead of Newton's.
A friend of mine, a government servant, served in Kedah for ten years before being transfered to Kuala Lumpur. While in Kedah he got married and was blessed with a cute little girl. By the time he was transfered to KL his little daughter was starting kindergarten. His child was bright and active. One day her kindergarten teacher showed a large picture of a spoon with the word 'sudu' underneath it. The teacher spelt out the word by syllables and asked the little children to repeat after her loudly. She went, "S-U...su" and everyone shouted "S-U...su". Then "D-U...du" followed by the children. Then the teacher asked,
"Who can read the whole word?"
My friend's daughter confidently stood up and said,"Camca". If you do not know it, in Kedah 'sudu' is ordinarily spoken as 'camca'. Similar thing happened when the teacher showed a picture of big red chili which in Kedah is normally called 'cabai'.
This reminds me of another school story. This time it's 'Kelas Buta Huruf'. These were classes organised for the benefit of adults who were illiterates. They were organised in villages with one or two teachers to a school. The Visiting Supervisor will visit such classes from time to time to see the students' progress and the effectiveness of the teachers.
One fine day it happened that the Visiting Supervisor visited one such school. He stood in front of the class intending to personally test the students whose average age was about 50. The class teacher respectfully stood behind the supervisor near the black board.
After a simple salutation the session started.
"I will spell a word each time and I want you to pronounce the word correctly", said the Supervisor and everybody yessed out loudly.
"Now the first word is B-A-J-U. Who can give the answer?", he asked.
The students went blank to the point of fainting. The class teacher was in trouble but suddenly a bright idea struck him. Out of the eyesight of the Supervisor who was standing in front of him, he tugged his shirt repeatedly and made eye signal to the students. The whole class lit up and "Baju!!" they roared.
The supervisor was highly impressed and he continued,
"Bagus! Now the next word is S-E-L-U-A-R. Who can give me the answer?"
The teacher quickly tugged his trousers made the eye signal and "Seluar!!" came the confident loud reply.
"Hmmm....I am extremely impressed". He continued,"The next word is G-E-L-A-N-G and who can give me the answer?".
The teacher who happened to be a male, of course did not wear a bangle. He knew he was caught this time but in his desperate last ditch attempt, he unwisely raised both his hands above his head and clenched the fist of his right hand and used his left thumb and index finger to encircle his right wrist to indicate the imaginary bangle on his right wrist. However without the real visible bangle on the teacher's right wrist, the students just could not decipher his signal. So again in desperation he wriggled the clenched right fist vigorously complete with face and eyes signal to attract the students' attention to his imaginary bangle on his right wrist. At last one student of about 55 years old with dentures almost falling off, stood up,
"Itu saya tahu Cik Gu. Haaa....itu... b?t?h... Cik Gu!!!".
Well, in Indonesia this word means 'perlu' or 'need' but here in Malaysia? It's not really a proper word to use in public even if you are extremely angry. Anyway, if you got plastic brain, you figure it out and if you got rubber lips, you may say it out but not too loudly and only when you are angry with yourself.
What else can I say? Maybe just bye and see you later.
We were taught in school that Newton's Law Of Gravity was discovered after an apple fell on the head of this Newton guy. I heard another version though. It happened here in our country long before Malaysia is called Malaysia. Pak Hussin, a padi farmer was sitting under a coconut tree figuring out the effort needed to fight gravity in order to raise water from a nearby stream to his padi field. Unfortunately a ripe coconut fell on his head and he died instantaneously giving him no chance to finish his work on his Law Of Gravity. Just imagine if it was just a mango that fell on his head, today's Law Of Gravity could have been known as Pak Hussin's Law Of Gravity instead of Newton's.
A friend of mine, a government servant, served in Kedah for ten years before being transfered to Kuala Lumpur. While in Kedah he got married and was blessed with a cute little girl. By the time he was transfered to KL his little daughter was starting kindergarten. His child was bright and active. One day her kindergarten teacher showed a large picture of a spoon with the word 'sudu' underneath it. The teacher spelt out the word by syllables and asked the little children to repeat after her loudly. She went, "S-U...su" and everyone shouted "S-U...su". Then "D-U...du" followed by the children. Then the teacher asked,
"Who can read the whole word?"
My friend's daughter confidently stood up and said,"Camca". If you do not know it, in Kedah 'sudu' is ordinarily spoken as 'camca'. Similar thing happened when the teacher showed a picture of big red chili which in Kedah is normally called 'cabai'.
This reminds me of another school story. This time it's 'Kelas Buta Huruf'. These were classes organised for the benefit of adults who were illiterates. They were organised in villages with one or two teachers to a school. The Visiting Supervisor will visit such classes from time to time to see the students' progress and the effectiveness of the teachers.
One fine day it happened that the Visiting Supervisor visited one such school. He stood in front of the class intending to personally test the students whose average age was about 50. The class teacher respectfully stood behind the supervisor near the black board.
After a simple salutation the session started.
"I will spell a word each time and I want you to pronounce the word correctly", said the Supervisor and everybody yessed out loudly.
"Now the first word is B-A-J-U. Who can give the answer?", he asked.
The students went blank to the point of fainting. The class teacher was in trouble but suddenly a bright idea struck him. Out of the eyesight of the Supervisor who was standing in front of him, he tugged his shirt repeatedly and made eye signal to the students. The whole class lit up and "Baju!!" they roared.
The supervisor was highly impressed and he continued,
"Bagus! Now the next word is S-E-L-U-A-R. Who can give me the answer?"
The teacher quickly tugged his trousers made the eye signal and "Seluar!!" came the confident loud reply.
"Hmmm....I am extremely impressed". He continued,"The next word is G-E-L-A-N-G and who can give me the answer?".
The teacher who happened to be a male, of course did not wear a bangle. He knew he was caught this time but in his desperate last ditch attempt, he unwisely raised both his hands above his head and clenched the fist of his right hand and used his left thumb and index finger to encircle his right wrist to indicate the imaginary bangle on his right wrist. However without the real visible bangle on the teacher's right wrist, the students just could not decipher his signal. So again in desperation he wriggled the clenched right fist vigorously complete with face and eyes signal to attract the students' attention to his imaginary bangle on his right wrist. At last one student of about 55 years old with dentures almost falling off, stood up,
"Itu saya tahu Cik Gu. Haaa....itu... b?t?h... Cik Gu!!!".
Well, in Indonesia this word means 'perlu' or 'need' but here in Malaysia? It's not really a proper word to use in public even if you are extremely angry. Anyway, if you got plastic brain, you figure it out and if you got rubber lips, you may say it out but not too loudly and only when you are angry with yourself.
What else can I say? Maybe just bye and see you later.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Malaysian English
In general Malaysians do speak English well when compared to our neighbors like the Thais, Indonesians, Cambodians etc. However to the ears of an Englishman, I think, we sound quite funny or at times incomprehensible or maybe even menacing. This is due to our pronouciations which are thickly influenced by our mother tongues. A well-intentioned word may sound offensive to the uninitiated ears of a white gentleman. Anyway in reality, many Malaysians do not want to sound exactly like an Englishman for fear of being labelled 'a synthetic orang puteh (white man)' by their friends and foes.
For a start we do not elongate the sound of 'ea' in a word or syllable but instead pronounce it as an 'i'. So the word 'beach' sounds similar to what an Englishman expects the word 'bitch' to be pronounced. So please picture out a situation where a generous-hearted Malaysian offers an Englishman, "Let's go and enjoy the beach (pronounced 'bitch')". Surely he will wetting all over with excitement and of course he will be fuming mad when he ends up on a sea shore with no god's creation to hug and kiss but only coconut trees.
Many of us will read 'S-T-E-A-K' as 'stick'. You may do well to get a serving of nice juicy steak at a restaurant in Kuala Lumpur but try that in London. You probably will end up being shown the way to Sherwood Forest to gather some sticks from the woods or maybe kicked to some old folks home to sample some walking sticks.
In Malay language there is no plosive sound in the pronounciation of words ending with alphabets like 'k', 't', 'd' etc. So word like 'bank' will sound more like 'bang' when spoken by most Malays. What will an English tourist perceive when a Malay Policeman tells him that, "There's a bank (pronounced 'bang') at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport". I am sure that he will conclude, "Must be Al Qaida, must be Al Qaida!".
'Th' sound is normally pronounced without the 'h'. It is reduced to only the sound of 't' just like the phrase 'thank you' which is reduced to 'tank ewe'. Just visualise how happy a visiting Minister of Defence from an African country feels when he hears our minister announces, "...we offer you lots of tanks for your friendship..." but will be deeply disappointed when he learns later that what was offered was just "lots of thanks".
Finally the sound of an 'x' is never easy to the Malaysian English speakers' tounge. 'Income tax' comes out sounding 'income tack". An Englishman will be dumbfounded to hear a newly wed Malaysian saying that, "....I wish in future I could have sick children...", when what he actually wished for is to have 'six children'.
Actually I can go on blabbering about this unendingly till the cows come home. However I am sure you will get bored in no time at all. So I will end here by wishing you 'tank ewe belly much for leading my belog'. Bye
For a start we do not elongate the sound of 'ea' in a word or syllable but instead pronounce it as an 'i'. So the word 'beach' sounds similar to what an Englishman expects the word 'bitch' to be pronounced. So please picture out a situation where a generous-hearted Malaysian offers an Englishman, "Let's go and enjoy the beach (pronounced 'bitch')". Surely he will wetting all over with excitement and of course he will be fuming mad when he ends up on a sea shore with no god's creation to hug and kiss but only coconut trees.
Many of us will read 'S-T-E-A-K' as 'stick'. You may do well to get a serving of nice juicy steak at a restaurant in Kuala Lumpur but try that in London. You probably will end up being shown the way to Sherwood Forest to gather some sticks from the woods or maybe kicked to some old folks home to sample some walking sticks.
In Malay language there is no plosive sound in the pronounciation of words ending with alphabets like 'k', 't', 'd' etc. So word like 'bank' will sound more like 'bang' when spoken by most Malays. What will an English tourist perceive when a Malay Policeman tells him that, "There's a bank (pronounced 'bang') at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport". I am sure that he will conclude, "Must be Al Qaida, must be Al Qaida!".
'Th' sound is normally pronounced without the 'h'. It is reduced to only the sound of 't' just like the phrase 'thank you' which is reduced to 'tank ewe'. Just visualise how happy a visiting Minister of Defence from an African country feels when he hears our minister announces, "...we offer you lots of tanks for your friendship..." but will be deeply disappointed when he learns later that what was offered was just "lots of thanks".
Finally the sound of an 'x' is never easy to the Malaysian English speakers' tounge. 'Income tax' comes out sounding 'income tack". An Englishman will be dumbfounded to hear a newly wed Malaysian saying that, "....I wish in future I could have sick children...", when what he actually wished for is to have 'six children'.
Actually I can go on blabbering about this unendingly till the cows come home. However I am sure you will get bored in no time at all. So I will end here by wishing you 'tank ewe belly much for leading my belog'. Bye
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Antics Of Golfers
Golfers are a unique species of human being having special mindset, taste and emotion. Though they walk and dress stylishly when they go about participating in their golf related activities, somehow they quickly metamorphose into clowns, angry bulls, cheaters, bunglers or even generous and exemplary beings according to situational demands especially on golf courses. Their antics are for all to enjoy. Here are some true comedies of golfers.
The Guilty Golfer
A friend of mine who stays in Alor Star which is about one and a half hour drive to Hatyai, Thailand, is an avid golfing enthusiast but alas on the side is also a die-hard sex enthusiast. He frequently makes trips to Thailand where he can mix and enjoy his two 'enthusiasms' and come back in time for evening tea like any old office worker does.
One fine morning he left his house just like an ordinary office worker and headed straight for Hatyai. After fulfilling his two 'enthusiasms' he returned like a good old family bread winner. However his wife was grumbling that she had been ringing him the whole morning but all she ever got were the 'out of coverage' messages and demanded an explanation from him. Sensing a storm coming he quickly announced that he was taking the whole family to the fun fair that night. The children erupted in joy overshadowing the mother's grumble.
That night at the fair the performance of a blind street musician caught the attention of his six-year old son. He stood there transfixed. The father realised that an opportunity was there for him to conjure an image of exemplary father (bapak mithali) in order to pacify his wife of her anger. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fist full of coins. He gave them to his son and asked him to donate them to the blind musician. The little boy threw the coins into the donation box one by one. Half way through he stopped and holding a coin high above his head,
"Mum, how many cents is this coin?", he asked.
It took the mother just one short glance to identify that it was a Thai coin. I won't venture to tell you what happened next. Your plastic brain should be able to figure out.
The Innocent Golfer
Another friend of mine befriended a self made millionaire Chinese businessman at his club and soon the two became the closest golfing buddies. His friend though successful had little formal education thus could not speak English well.
One night they went out to dinner with their wives. As it was the first time he introduced his friend to his wife telling her what a wonderful man his friend was. To return the compliment his Chinese friend said,
"Your husband ah.... enjoy kaki one. But partner no good la. His ball always go into young girl...sure lose one."
Again I am not going to tell you what happened before my friend managed to convince his wife that what his Chinese friend was trying to say was that he was a joyous happy-go-lucky man but not good as golf partner since he always hit his ball into the "jungle" and they would sure lose the game.
Forced To Be Generous Golfer
Another friend hit his ball into the bunker filled with fine sand. The ball was almost buried leaving only a little top part visible. He tried to hit the ball out a few times but failed every time. This made him so mad that he flung away his sand wedge. Unfortunately it landed and remained stuck on the branch of a nearby tree. He was forced to smile when others were laughing their heart out at his antic. Finally he pulled out 20 ringgit and slipped it into the caddy's pocket. The caddy instinctively knew what his master wanted. He climbed the tree and retrieved the wedge.
The Vile Tempered Golfer
Another golfer did not play well on one fine Sunday afternoon. His ball kept going astray. By the time he reached tee box 5 he was fuming mad cursing, swearing and shouting the worst expletives in various languages on top of his voice. In that state of mind he teed off and sure enough the ball landed in the pond. He was super mad by this time and with curses pouring out of his mouth like rain, he grabbed his golf bags with clubs and all in it and threw it inside the pond. Mumbling and grumbling he walked all the way back to the car park.
At the car park he reached into his pocket for his car key. At that moment he realised that he had kept his key in the golf bag. He called a caddy, gave him a hundred rinngit and asked that chap to follow him to the pond. There the caddy jump into the pond to retrieve the bag. He then retrieved the car key from the bag but threw the bag back into the pond swearing that he would never again play golf in his lifetime. However that night he took his son who was a good swimmer to dive for his bag and the very next evening he was back on the course.
They say never built your house bordering the golf course for fear that your children will pick up dirty expletives in various languages before they can even read ABC.
Bye. Have a nice day.
The Guilty Golfer
A friend of mine who stays in Alor Star which is about one and a half hour drive to Hatyai, Thailand, is an avid golfing enthusiast but alas on the side is also a die-hard sex enthusiast. He frequently makes trips to Thailand where he can mix and enjoy his two 'enthusiasms' and come back in time for evening tea like any old office worker does.
One fine morning he left his house just like an ordinary office worker and headed straight for Hatyai. After fulfilling his two 'enthusiasms' he returned like a good old family bread winner. However his wife was grumbling that she had been ringing him the whole morning but all she ever got were the 'out of coverage' messages and demanded an explanation from him. Sensing a storm coming he quickly announced that he was taking the whole family to the fun fair that night. The children erupted in joy overshadowing the mother's grumble.
That night at the fair the performance of a blind street musician caught the attention of his six-year old son. He stood there transfixed. The father realised that an opportunity was there for him to conjure an image of exemplary father (bapak mithali) in order to pacify his wife of her anger. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fist full of coins. He gave them to his son and asked him to donate them to the blind musician. The little boy threw the coins into the donation box one by one. Half way through he stopped and holding a coin high above his head,
"Mum, how many cents is this coin?", he asked.
It took the mother just one short glance to identify that it was a Thai coin. I won't venture to tell you what happened next. Your plastic brain should be able to figure out.
The Innocent Golfer
Another friend of mine befriended a self made millionaire Chinese businessman at his club and soon the two became the closest golfing buddies. His friend though successful had little formal education thus could not speak English well.
One night they went out to dinner with their wives. As it was the first time he introduced his friend to his wife telling her what a wonderful man his friend was. To return the compliment his Chinese friend said,
"Your husband ah.... enjoy kaki one. But partner no good la. His ball always go into young girl...sure lose one."
Again I am not going to tell you what happened before my friend managed to convince his wife that what his Chinese friend was trying to say was that he was a joyous happy-go-lucky man but not good as golf partner since he always hit his ball into the "jungle" and they would sure lose the game.
Forced To Be Generous Golfer
Another friend hit his ball into the bunker filled with fine sand. The ball was almost buried leaving only a little top part visible. He tried to hit the ball out a few times but failed every time. This made him so mad that he flung away his sand wedge. Unfortunately it landed and remained stuck on the branch of a nearby tree. He was forced to smile when others were laughing their heart out at his antic. Finally he pulled out 20 ringgit and slipped it into the caddy's pocket. The caddy instinctively knew what his master wanted. He climbed the tree and retrieved the wedge.
The Vile Tempered Golfer
Another golfer did not play well on one fine Sunday afternoon. His ball kept going astray. By the time he reached tee box 5 he was fuming mad cursing, swearing and shouting the worst expletives in various languages on top of his voice. In that state of mind he teed off and sure enough the ball landed in the pond. He was super mad by this time and with curses pouring out of his mouth like rain, he grabbed his golf bags with clubs and all in it and threw it inside the pond. Mumbling and grumbling he walked all the way back to the car park.
At the car park he reached into his pocket for his car key. At that moment he realised that he had kept his key in the golf bag. He called a caddy, gave him a hundred rinngit and asked that chap to follow him to the pond. There the caddy jump into the pond to retrieve the bag. He then retrieved the car key from the bag but threw the bag back into the pond swearing that he would never again play golf in his lifetime. However that night he took his son who was a good swimmer to dive for his bag and the very next evening he was back on the course.
They say never built your house bordering the golf course for fear that your children will pick up dirty expletives in various languages before they can even read ABC.
Bye. Have a nice day.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Of Quest For Beauty
First of all I must offer my sincere appreciation to Anonymous 2:59 (09/01/10} for his/her comment on my last post. Being a beginner to the blogging world I need your support to spur me ahead. I would also like to invite other readers to do the same as this will help me improve. I will try to write more if time is on my side. Have a good day with lots of smiles and laughters.
I never want to be controversial when reducing my thoughts to writing though controversy attracts more responses. However I cannot help observing how far women are prepared to go in their quest to enhance or to sustain their beauty. I have seen on TV where women went through so much pain in their effort to add inches to their height or their busts or buttocks and subtract inches from their thighs and stomachs.
Sometimes though, I wonder at the logic of how things are done. For example, a lady pays a beautician some money to pull out her eyebrow hair. Then perhaps, feeling a little bit naked there after looking at herself in the mirror she again pays her to redraw the eyebrows on her forehead with an eyebrow pencil. I am not sure about the latest technology where you can use elephant brand glue to re-stick the hair.
Next she pays her to cut her hair short like Mia Farrow. Then she goes back home and demands that her husband buys her a wig. After much shopping done she ends up buying a long flowing wig that looks exactly like her own hair before the cutting by the beautician. Paradox?
A woman says that a lady must always dress decently all the time. The hemline must always fall below the knee. Agreed!..(at lips level only but at heart level?...aisay..finish la!..no chance to catch a glance at the hidden and forbidden area). But hold on, don't be discouraged. By the time the dress is worn, you'll get to see what you longed to see for the thigh split will run up from the hemline right up across the thigh! Happy?
Years ago a mother told her young daughter to avoid smoking saying that smoking over time will cause her lips to turn dark. Being an obedient little girl she took her mother's advice to heart and never touch a cigarette at all. Now she's all grown up with a pair of natural pink lips, graduated and works in a big city. One fine weekend she decides to return to her kampong to pay her mother a visit. Arriving at her mother's house she calls out her name and the mother rushes out to greet her but faints at the door. When she regaines her consciousness she asks her daughter, "Dear, why did you take up smoking? Now your lips are all black" to which she replies, "Mum, my lips are not black. It's just my lipstick. It's a trend now in the city to use dark colour lipstick".
Thanks, see you soon. Bye
I never want to be controversial when reducing my thoughts to writing though controversy attracts more responses. However I cannot help observing how far women are prepared to go in their quest to enhance or to sustain their beauty. I have seen on TV where women went through so much pain in their effort to add inches to their height or their busts or buttocks and subtract inches from their thighs and stomachs.
Sometimes though, I wonder at the logic of how things are done. For example, a lady pays a beautician some money to pull out her eyebrow hair. Then perhaps, feeling a little bit naked there after looking at herself in the mirror she again pays her to redraw the eyebrows on her forehead with an eyebrow pencil. I am not sure about the latest technology where you can use elephant brand glue to re-stick the hair.
Next she pays her to cut her hair short like Mia Farrow. Then she goes back home and demands that her husband buys her a wig. After much shopping done she ends up buying a long flowing wig that looks exactly like her own hair before the cutting by the beautician. Paradox?
A woman says that a lady must always dress decently all the time. The hemline must always fall below the knee. Agreed!..(at lips level only but at heart level?...aisay..finish la!..no chance to catch a glance at the hidden and forbidden area). But hold on, don't be discouraged. By the time the dress is worn, you'll get to see what you longed to see for the thigh split will run up from the hemline right up across the thigh! Happy?
Years ago a mother told her young daughter to avoid smoking saying that smoking over time will cause her lips to turn dark. Being an obedient little girl she took her mother's advice to heart and never touch a cigarette at all. Now she's all grown up with a pair of natural pink lips, graduated and works in a big city. One fine weekend she decides to return to her kampong to pay her mother a visit. Arriving at her mother's house she calls out her name and the mother rushes out to greet her but faints at the door. When she regaines her consciousness she asks her daughter, "Dear, why did you take up smoking? Now your lips are all black" to which she replies, "Mum, my lips are not black. It's just my lipstick. It's a trend now in the city to use dark colour lipstick".
Thanks, see you soon. Bye
Friday, January 8, 2010
Of Car Registration Numbers
A long time ago a friend of mine who was using an American gas guzzler suddenly asked me whether I was interested in buying his rickety sedan which gave about 8 MILES to a GALLON. The vehicular contraption looked set to be thrown into the sea as an artificial coral reef. He offered it to me for $800 {$ was the sign for ringgit at that time}. Man! 800 was a big sum for me at that time as I was just a fresh employee in a government department while he was from a rich royal family.
The number plate of the car was BAB 1 and it seemed that he got it from his uncle who did not like the the look of the alphabets and the digit when assembled on a small piece of metal plate. To him it looked more like BABI (pig). When he told me this, my eyes suddenly re-computed my whole vision and "Aah!...why should I pay 800 for a pig when I can have breakfast for just a ringgit?". I never for once imagine that such rare number plate could in future (now) bring in good bundle of cash. Number 1 was especially the preferred number.
Now you hear people lavishing hundreds of thousands just to get these novelty number plates. I wonder how much a womanizer will pay for a Penang number plate PUK 1 but hold your horses! If you are an avid golfer, would you be happy if JPJ assigns your number as KED 1? I think you would rather go to your club in a taxi than drive your car there or probably you would run to Johore to register your car as JOL 1 to reflect your clubbing life style.
I am dying to see a married couple having a car each, one registered in Perlis as ROT 1 and the other in Kedah as KOP 1. Coffee combines well with bread. How nice and loving. Of course a Kedahan does not relish KOD 1 as his number plate as KODI in Kedah dialect means low class imitation.
Who wants a special Terangganu number plate TAH 1? or a Selangor BAS 1?
Well, you can go on and on with this. Just sit back and conjure with your plastic brain and if you get the correct ones, just smile with your rubber lips.
The number plate of the car was BAB 1 and it seemed that he got it from his uncle who did not like the the look of the alphabets and the digit when assembled on a small piece of metal plate. To him it looked more like BABI (pig). When he told me this, my eyes suddenly re-computed my whole vision and "Aah!...why should I pay 800 for a pig when I can have breakfast for just a ringgit?". I never for once imagine that such rare number plate could in future (now) bring in good bundle of cash. Number 1 was especially the preferred number.
Now you hear people lavishing hundreds of thousands just to get these novelty number plates. I wonder how much a womanizer will pay for a Penang number plate PUK 1 but hold your horses! If you are an avid golfer, would you be happy if JPJ assigns your number as KED 1? I think you would rather go to your club in a taxi than drive your car there or probably you would run to Johore to register your car as JOL 1 to reflect your clubbing life style.
I am dying to see a married couple having a car each, one registered in Perlis as ROT 1 and the other in Kedah as KOP 1. Coffee combines well with bread. How nice and loving. Of course a Kedahan does not relish KOD 1 as his number plate as KODI in Kedah dialect means low class imitation.
Who wants a special Terangganu number plate TAH 1? or a Selangor BAS 1?
Well, you can go on and on with this. Just sit back and conjure with your plastic brain and if you get the correct ones, just smile with your rubber lips.
A Special Tip For Malaysian Athletes
Wonder how Usain Bolt can run that fast and win all that gold and money? My mind tells me that deep in your heart you are saying "How I wish I can run like Usain Bolt and be famous and rich". Well, actually you can.
Two nights ago while I was sleeping, I was visited by a big guru who whispered in my ear the secret of Usain's success. He told me that every time Usain Bolt prepared himself on the starting block he would re-interpret the sound of the starting gun to be the sound of a vicious dog barking behind him. So he bolted as fast as he can to avoid being savaged by the dog. So almost on every occasion Usain Bolt bolts to a new record whether for 100m or 200m.
So for Malaysian athletes, in order not to infringe the intellectual property of Usain Bolt by imagining a savage dog, you can always imagine Ah Long debt collector chasing you with guns blazing. I am sure you can easily outdo Hussain's record by leaps and bound.
As a footnote, do you remember Armin Hary who won the 100m dash at 1960 Rome Olympic? On the starting block he kept telling himself "I'm in a hurry, I'm in hurry" and of course he rushed to the tape very fast indeed.
Two nights ago while I was sleeping, I was visited by a big guru who whispered in my ear the secret of Usain's success. He told me that every time Usain Bolt prepared himself on the starting block he would re-interpret the sound of the starting gun to be the sound of a vicious dog barking behind him. So he bolted as fast as he can to avoid being savaged by the dog. So almost on every occasion Usain Bolt bolts to a new record whether for 100m or 200m.
So for Malaysian athletes, in order not to infringe the intellectual property of Usain Bolt by imagining a savage dog, you can always imagine Ah Long debt collector chasing you with guns blazing. I am sure you can easily outdo Hussain's record by leaps and bound.
As a footnote, do you remember Armin Hary who won the 100m dash at 1960 Rome Olympic? On the starting block he kept telling himself "I'm in a hurry, I'm in hurry" and of course he rushed to the tape very fast indeed.
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