Illegal Parking

I was having lunch at the Song Kheng Hai foodcourt in Padungan earlier this afternoon when I noticed this peculiar sight.
Noodles parking
Some smart-arse decided to “park” his dried noodles on government regulated car park. For the benefit of those not in Kuching, you may park your vehicle within any parking space indicated by a yellow number, provided you place a parking coupon on your dashboard.
Yet, this guy has the audacity to sunbake his noodles on not one, but across TWO parking spaces! What the fish!? Your grandfather own the place one is it? Weren’t ever-so-diligent the parking inspectors doing their job? Sheesh…
So Kenny, being a good Kuching citizen, did his part to help this poor guy out.

Parking Coupon

P/S. Half-arsed update today. Exhausted, but felt weird not writing anything here. Full-arsed update tomorrow.

Impression on Sibu, Sarawak

Its quite unfortunate that I didn’t get to go out much during my time in Sibu. I was stuck at work most of the time. Coupled with the flood and rain, it really wasn’t a good idea to fit some sightseeing into my schedule.
For two nights I stayed at Li Hua Hotel, which is a three-star hotel overlooking the Teh-C-Peng-like Rejang River. My room window faces the river, and from the 7th floor the view is simply amazing. There’s something about big rusty old cargo ships sailing past equally old and rusty jetties that’s so beautiful, so quaint, so…. uniquely Sarawakian.
Rejang River and Ship

Titanic, this is not.

I always feel a sense of connection with the Rejang River, like we have something in common. Its not surprising though. After all, Rejang is Malaysia’s longest river, and I have Malaysia’s longest penis… nevermind. ๐Ÿ™‚
Wooden houses along Rejang

If I can’t afford a bungalow by the beach front, this is where I’ll be staying.

A lot of people regard Penang as the food capital of Malaysia. Perhaps I’m a little biased but I’m afraid I have to disagree on that. (Ok lah, I’m very biased! ;)) I think Sarawak has the best range of authentic Malaysian food that suits the palate of people all over the world.
The food in Sibu is disgustingly cheap and many times I feel like giving some tips to the kopitiam waitress just because service was so prompt. Sometimes I wonder why posh 5-star restaurants have the audacity to ask us for tips for their crappy service when the young girl at the kopitiam deserves it more and yet we never thought of giving anything extra to her.
Anyway, back to food. The trademark food of Sibu is the kampua mee (or ‘dry plate noodle’ in Hokkien). Although this Foochow dish is available in Kuching, Sibu is the place where you can savour this yummy noodle in all its authentic and original glory.
Kampua Mee

I like my kampua the way I like my ladies. Cheap, quick, hot and saucy. ๐Ÿ˜‰ But not with charsiew on top please.

This plate costs me RM1.80 (or AUD$0.60, the price of one pack of chewing gum in Perth). I had mine the way I like it, and that’s with soy and chilli sauce. It tastes very much like Indo Mee Goreng, except its drier and fresher. I reckon if you lick your computer monitor really hard you might be able to taste it.

The size of this coconut is about as big as my balls. Except mine is bigger.

I ordered a fresh coconut (RM2.00) to go with it. I’m a strong believer that coconut water should only be drank straight from its shell. Anything other than that is an unneccessary compromise.
Fruit Ice

Ice kacang? Pfft! Sibu people wouldn’t stoop to that level. So, they created FRUIT ICE.

This is Sibu’s famed Shui Guo Bing (or ‘Fruit Ice’ in Mandarin) for RM2.00. Its essentially a big bowl of shaved ice and some jelly atop pieces of watermelons, honeydew, pineapple, lychee, etc. This mouth-watering dessert is best savoured after a round of hot spicy dishes to cool your tongue down.
Hungry yet? ๐Ÿ™‚
11:30pm was the only time I could explore Sibu on my own. The good news is, there were pubs around the hotel I was staying that operate late into the night. The bad news is, these are dangdut pubs featuring fugly singers with thick make-ups and skimpy clothing unfortunate enough to be cursed with singing voices that rival the ah-peks of Chinese wedding dinners.

There’s something incredibly sexy about big-sized makciks cooking your late-night supper

I was lucky there were few late night kopitiams around, mostly selling seafood. I saw a makcik (Malay for ‘auntie’) skillfully cooking seafood on a sorry-excuse-for-a-BBQ stove. I remembered my workmate recommending the sotongs (‘octopus’) of Sibu, so I wasted no time ordering one.
Sotong + Sambal + Kangkung

Sotong + Sambal + Kangkung = Where’s my gym membership?

This is Sibu’s sotong, grilled to perfection with traditional Malay’s sambal paste and some fresh kangkung. It really is as delicious as it looks. A dish worth coming back to Sibu for indeed.
Sibu at nightSibu at night

Obligatory late-night shots of Sibu.

Before I leave Sibu, I just had to do a shot of the town’s landmark. The place was quiet except for a few loud and drunk teenagers loitering around. Not far from here is the Sacred Heart Cathedral where a mass was held mourning the death of Pope John Paul II.
Sibu Markets

What’s this “kilogram” thing you’re talking about? Sibu people still use the “kong” system.

Sibu is an intriguing little place that retains much of its old-town charm. Its so quaint, so fascinating. I can’t wait for the next time I travel to Sibu to explore the place a little bit more. Hopefully, without the flood.
To conclude this diary entry on a funny note. Introducing, the worst name for a cafe in Sibu…
Mobilephone cafe

Who the *toot* would call their business the “Mobilephone Cafe”?

A MOBILEPHONE CAFE? A cafe for mobile phones? wtf? I don’t know about you but this is what I imagine what the inside of the cafe would look like.

Mobile phone talking

Bartender: Hey wassup, what would you like to D-Ring?
Patron: The usual – just a glass of battery juice please. ๐Ÿ™‚

Just as I was editting this photo, my elder sister walked into the room.

Sister: “Why you took a photo of that cafe?”
Kenny: “‘Cos it has a funny name.”
Sister: “What’s so funny about its name?”
Kenny: “Well, its called Mobilephone Cafe!”
Sister: “I don’t see why that’s funny. I mean there are Internet Cafes so what’s wrong with Mobilephone cafe?”
Kenny: “………………”

I think my sister turned into Jessica Simpson after she got married.

The Great Sibu Flood

I hope I didn’t shock anyone with this entry’s title. ๐Ÿ™‚ I just got back from Sibu, and man… what a trip that was! My flight from Kuching to Sibu was definitely one of the most terrifying flights I have ever been on.
Sibu Aerial Shot

Sibu from air. The town of Sibu reminded me of Kuching ten years ago, when there were more trees than buildings.

Sibu is located about 30 minutes north of Kuching by flight. My flight departed Kuching airport 5:30pm on Sunday. By 5:50pm, the captain PA-ed through advising us that the flight is due to be landed shortly. Everything was SOP (standard operating procedure) up till this point.
Safety demos

In-flight safety demos: the only thing preventing me from becoming an air steward.

As the Boeing 737 began descending onto Sibu airport, we experienced a mild turbulence which progressively grew in magnitude. Before long, the entire aircraft was shaking and dropping uncontrollably. Few passengers were already making use of the air sickness bags for reasons other than stealing Malaysia Airline’s cups and cutleries.
Looking outside the window, I could see, amid thick clouds, that we were close to landing. I held onto the passenger seat in front of me, expecting a bumpy touchdown while cursing myself for ignoring the pre-flight safety demonstrations. Then suddenly, instead of landing, the aircraft picked itself up and climbed back onto air. Sensing confusion, the captain advised us that we were unable to land due to bad weather. We circled the air, waiting for the weather in Sibu to clear up.
Departure hall

Scene of chaos at the departure hall, Kuching

After 2 hours of circling Sibu’s airspace, we were running out of fuel. The aircraft flew back to Kuching to re-fuel and dumped the passengers in the departure hall. It was 8:00pm and we hadn’t yet had our dinner. Starving, I sauntered to the only cafe opening at the Kuching airport’s departure hall only to find out that a RM2.50 kueh tiaw costs RM8.40. I politely declined, instead purchasing RM8.40 worth of biscuits and chocolates which I shared with my five other workmates.
Lights dimmed
By 9:00pm, we were back up in the air en-route to Sibu once again. That was another equally horrendous bumpy ride that only the West Malaysians who have experienced the earthquake could understand. The astonishing thing here was that there were passengers stupid enough to get up and go to the toilet in the middle of a major turbulence. Its amazing to see an ah-mah trying to balance herself holding onto the seats on a bumpy air-ride, whilst asking people where the toilet is. Until that dat, I have never seen an air stewardess shouting at passengers to get back to their seat.
Departure hall

Ah-mah: “But I wanna pee-pee. :(“

We touched down at 9:45pm with a hard and solid thud, followed by cheers and applause and mobile phones ringing because I forgot to turn mine off before boarding (oops!). My workmates and I exited the departure gate only to realise that our driver had conveniently left us to go home and sleep. ๐Ÿ™‚ Anyway, we flagged a taxi and checked into Li Hua Hotel.
Sibu at last

Sibu at last.

I only got to see the effect of heavy rain the day after.
Sibu, flooded

Sibu, flooded.

Water in the drain spilled over onto the roads. Roads became rivers and cars looked more like boats. There were no shortage of stalled cars by the roadside and residents looked on as if its just another day in Sibu. There was so much water everywhere, I’m beginning to suspect the people of Sibu might actually be amphibious to be able to live in a condition like this.
Sibu, Waterworld
I noticed that the drains in Sibu are all extra-ordinarily wide. In fact, they looked more like the water canals of Venice.
Sibu, Venice
Even then, the drainage system was still no match for such force of nature.
I was put off by the brown-yellowish colour of the drain water. I doubt the sewerage system of Sibu is functioning, so God knows what’s beneath the water. A mixture of mud, shit, soil, shit, urine, shit, etc most probably. Ugh. I tried not to think too much about it. So I visualised the brownish water as Teh Ais instead.
Sibu, Teh Ais

Bad Malaysian Government Websites

I’m flying off to Sibu, Sarawak in 2 hours time for a business-related trip. I’m coming back Tuesday morning, which meant I won’t be able to log on for two evenings. Damn I’m gonna miss the Internet. Nicole once said to me after I repeatedly failed to fix up her internet connection, “I feel so handicapped without the internet!”. Now I know how she felt…

Contents of my luggage: toiletries, business wear, casual wear, ties, undies, and if you see carefully: the infamous red Daffy Duck boxer shorts.

Its my first time going to Sibu, so I’m actually looking forward to it. All I know about Sibu is that its the third largest city in Sarawak after Kuching and Miri, and is home of the Foochow’s kampua mee.
Oddly enough, I met more Sibu people when I was in Perth than I did when I’m in Kuching. To me, the Sibu people I know came across as plain, quiet, hardworking and innocent. They live a simple lifestyle: wake up, work, go home, eat, sleep – its the kind of lifestyle conservative Malaysian parents would approve of. Sibu people don’t care a lot about making up, wearing fashionable clothings, trying to look good or what not. Its either that, or they tried… but failed. Just kidding. ๐Ÿ™‚
Anyway, to prepare for my trip to Sibu I googled ‘Sibu Sarawak’, and out came the official Sibu website at
Welcome page

Don’t ask me why its and not

I was greeted with the above welcome page. I hate welcome pages for a reason. Welcome pages are ok if there’s more than one link on that page asking you to select your country/language/whatever. But in most cases, there’s only ONE LINK on the welcome page. Its an extra work for the webdesigner to create, and extra work for the websurfer who have to click on that ONE link on that page to get to the information they want. And for what? To look at some pretty graphics? Pfft.
Hijacked for commercialism

The blurred line between a government website and a commerical website.

A minor crime they committed is to allow the webdesigner to hijack the website by inserting their domain registration services on the main page. Entering anything in that box will teleport you to the domain registrar’s website complete with bad Flash plugins and horrible mouseover sound effects. But funnily enough, I’m ok with having links to commercial services on a government website.
What I can’t stand is this… ANIMATED GIFs.
God dammit. Stare at that animation for five minutes and tell me you’re not going crazy. The Sibu website is not the only one. It seems like all government websites across Malaysia are obsessed with bad animated GIFs and bad Flash intros. OBSESSED!
Example, JPJ Wilayah.
Go on, click on that link. I dare you. Turn your speakers up loud.
I swear you’re gonna have that tune stuck in your head for the rest of the day. It happened to me. Now I feel like doing a cute little Malay dance everytime I hear that tune.
Any more bad government websites to share? Let me know. Meanwhile I’m off to the airport. See y’all in 2 days!

Kids Moving Out Of Parents’ House

My mother and I were having this conversation.

Kenny: “How much is the rent for a simple house in Kuching?”
Mom: “Not too sure. Why?”
“Well, I do have to move out from this house eventually don’t I?”
“What?” She replied in a surprised tone.
I looked at my mom, wondering why she reacted that way. “You’re not expecting me to stay in this house and depend on you forever, do you?”
My mom looked at me, obviously disappointed. “You wanted to move out?”
“Mom, in Australia kids move out of their parents’ house when they turn 18.”
She drew a heavy sigh. “Actually, I was hoping that you and your brother will stay together in this house. Then we can share everything together.” She said with such a sad tone. I felt an invisible needle pierced through my heart.
“You’re not expecting us to still stay in this house after we’re married, do you?”
“Why not? This is a good house, in a perfectly good location. The best location in Kuching!”
“Mom, if I continued to live with you well into my adulthood, that would be like me still depending on your cooking when I should be independant and you should start spending money and enjoy life. I’m not abandoning you, just living in a place of my own.”
“Well, if you and your brother move out, who’s going to take care of me when I grow old?” A second needle pierced through my heart. “What’s so bad about your family and your brother’s family and me living in the same house? That way, we can all take care of each others’ kids. You don’t want your kids to be raised by babysitters do you? You don’t know how many of them are snakes nowadays. And how are you going to afford living on your own? You don’t have money to burn. Renting would be like giving your money to strangers. You might as well live in this house and give it to me as ‘rent’. Bla bla bla bla…”

I’m not too sure what the Malaysian-Chinese tradition on this issue is. (Heh, sometimes I wonder if I’m still Malaysian-Chinese). I’m pretty sure at the very least, kids live with their parents until they after their marriage. After that they move in with their partners.
Their elderly parents would live in the same house, eventually selling it to move in with one of their sons, or give it to the eldest son and continue living in the same house.
Family Potrait

I grew up in a typical Malaysian-Chinese family. Three generations living under the same roof.

Only a very small proportion of Malaysian-Chinese parents actually move into retirement homes. Leaving your parents in retirement homes is considered by many as being disrespectful to your parents. If you even dare to suggest that option to them, they would bark at your asking you where your conscience lies. Crying, asking if you want your own children to treat you that way when you grow old.
Maybe its to do with that confusingly confusing Confucian values that Malaysian-Chineses are brought up with.
Rule #1 is to always respect your parents, meaning to live with them if they ask you to. In fact I think about the only way adult Malaysian-Chinese don’t live with their parents before their marriage is if they don’t live in the same city as their parents.
Its not the same the way I knew it in Perth.
In Aussie, people laugh at you if you tell them that you’re still living with your parents at 22 years old, as if you’re still a baby who needs mom to personally breastfeed you.

The reason why I wish I’m still be a baby sometimes. Well, I’m working towards that goal. Not with my mother though. ๐Ÿ™‚

Their culture dictates that children move out when they turn 18. In practice, this usually extends to about 22 years old. After high school, University, an obligatory 1-year backpacking trip around the world, and a stable job… a typical Aussie would probably be 22 years old by then – which allows them to afford renting their own place and live away from their parents.
The odd thing is that its not usually the kids who want to move out. Its the Aussie parents who threaten their kids to move out. One of my uni mates told me that his parents had to pack all his items and leave them out the front door to convince him that he is not welcome back home unless he finds his own place to stay.
Australian parents do it because they want their kids to be independent physically and financially from them. Some parents would then refurbish the empty room and rent it to overseas students to earn that extra income. When they grow old and their house becomes too big for them, they move into retirement village where all the old people hang out, just like Grandpa Simpson!
Abe Simpson

Kenny, 86 years old.

It goes without saying that I love and respect my parents. That said, I’m not sure if and when I start my own family, that I would take up the option of staying with my parents AND my brother’s family.
Ideally, I’d like to move out to a rented place of my own before my marriage, whilst saving money to buy a house of my own. I’d still visit my parents and brother of course, but I want to live on my own. Sure, its a waste of money compared to all the luxuries I enjoy right now. Sure its going to be a chore trying to organise my own breakfast, lunch and dinner for myself.
But you know what? Its not like something I’ve never done before. I think I’ll appreciate the freedom and independance of bachelorhood before my marriage. And hopefully I can do that without being labelled a disrespectful son of a mother.
But I doubt so. ๐Ÿ™‚

Oh Dear, What Have I Done?

And with that one single entry, I’ve booked myself a one-way ticket to eternal crapdoom. The horror!
Well, there goes my reputation…
My reputation

Goodbye my friend, I shall miss you!

Heh, you guys RULE!
minishorts called it “the BEST APRIL FOOLรขโ‚ฌโ„ขS PRANK in blogging history.” Dr Liew called it the “Best April Fool Post 2005”. (Am I starting to sound like that voice we hear in movie trailers all the time?)
At least everyone had a good laugh about it. And that’s good, right? Instead of pulling a prank on some innocent dude, hurting his feelings then blaming him for getting upset on April Fool’s – we’re all here laughing at my hairy legs.
Gee, I never knew the jungle on my legs could bring people together! ๐Ÿ™‚ Something to tell my grandchildren about when I grow old.
Silly, silly me!
*Kenny makes a mental note to never turn up to any future Bloggers’ Meet*

April Fool’s: Making Fun of Myself

I’m never good scheming an April Fool’s prank.
When I was young, everyone hated me on the 1st of April. Whenever my group of friends decided to pull a prank on some poor kid, I was always the first to get all red-faced and laugh out loud. The (supposed) victim would get suspicious and my mates would get all upset because I single-handedly ruined their evil plan.
Eventually I decided that I’m hopeless at poking fun at other people, and so I resigned to my fate as the target of all pranks. I’m not sure what the other bloggers have up their sleeves come this April Fool’s. Someone slap me if its not somewhere along the lines of my-blog-is-shutting-down, I-lost-my-job-cos-of-my-blog, or another one of those terrifying watch-this-carefully-and-you’ll-see-a-ghost.
But you know what? This year, I smartened up. I REFUSE to be made fun of by others. This year, I decided that only I am worthy of making fun of MYSELF.
Maybe its the excess bandwidth usage last month. Maybe its too many episodes of the Numa Numa Dance. But somehow I have an inexplicable urge to embarrass myself on the Internet, and perhaps scare away a few of’s readers in the process to save some bandwidth costs.
There are many well-known bloggers in the ‘blogosphere’ out there. They said that if you can’t beat them… then for fuck’s sake, beat them harder! With a baseball bat, perhaps.
So. Partially inspired by minishorts and the project, I decided that I’m gonna sacrifice my virginity dignity, put myself in their shoes, and see what its like if its ME and not THEM that’s famous.
Anyway, consider this my April Fool’s dedication.


Who better to start the ball rolling, than a fellow Sarawakian and controversial blogger, Poh Huai Bin of
Poh Huai Bin
Offensive yet intelligent. Controversial yet witty. If there ever were a blog version of the Ewan McGregor movie Trainspotting, would be it.
If there ever were going to be a blog version of “Dumb and Dumber”, would be it.
Me as Huai Bin
Note: the dilation of my pupils is not real, its photoshopped. The dilation of Huai Bin’s pupils however……. is also photoshopped.


Next on my list is the author of Screenshots, Jeff Ooi, Malaysia’s Most Influential Blogger. I don’t know why people call him that, but Jeff Ooi is definitely one of Malaysia’s best known blogger. Browse through any Malaysian blog and I guarantee you at least half of them will be linked to Jeff Ooi.
Jeff Ooi

I’m probably not that influential yet…
Me as Jeff Ooi
… but at least I’m trying.


I had thought about doing an imitation of Malaysia’s favourite erotic blogger, author of The Hustler Diaries, Mr Sleek Black Mercedes. However, the Hustler himself decided to keep his identity anonymous. Browsing through his site, I was unable to find anything resembling a photo of him except for an award he won which he proudly displayed on the sidebar of his blog.
Hustler Diaries

Impressive. That’s one thing I can forget about winning. I’ll probably be winning this instead.
Me as Hustler Diaries


I was going to stop here because I can’t think of anyone else worth spoofing. Then I thought, why stop at the guys?
Introducing Kimberlycun, owner of Malaysia’s smoothest pair of legs, and coincidentally the author of that fantastic blog with a fantastic title, “Narcissism Is Necessary”.
Kim Cun

Introducing… my legs.
Me as Kim Cun


I was going to stop here.
But once again, I thought “Why stop at Malaysia? Why not look at say, Singapore?”
Whilst Malaysia’s best known blogger is an uncle called Jeff Ooi, Singapore’s best known blogger is a babe called Xia Xue. Xia Xue is Wendy Cheng, someone who left thousands of ‘blogders’ a day wondering “Why are we worshipping the ground she blogs on?”
Xia Xue
The looks, the brains, the body. Man, I wish I can be like her sometimes. But alas, I think I’m just gonna “Xia Xuey” myself.
Xia Xuey


I hope I’m not gonna regret this when I look back 5 years later. Sorry I wasted your time with this half-arsed foolish entry.
The obligatory flame extinguisher: My apologies to the people above whom I’ve made a parody of. You have the right to be deeply offended because I’m not as pretty as you are. But hey, its the 1st of April! So please, chill… chill….
Added 3rd April 2005: I noticed there’s a lot of non-regular readers dropping by this page. I’d sincerely appreciate it if you leave me just a short comment, telling me who you are and all that stuff. You know, as a small token for my effort putting up this entry. Thanks in advance! ๐Ÿ™‚
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