My Very First Newspaper Interview

“Flash your titties on your blog big deal ah? Come interview me lah!”
Shortly after I posted that entry, heng-heng two journalists from two different newspapers e-mailed me for an interview. One is by a Malaysian newspaper who wished to remain anonymous, and the other is by Singapore’s Straits Times.
The journalist from The Straits Times damn power. We talked on the telephone for almost an hour, international call no-less, until my ear also barbequed to medium-rare liaw. How much of what I said is recorded I don’t know lah. Singaporean readers please keep an eye out for an article on the ‘Sarong Party Girl’ fiasco over the next few days ok?
I was told that there’s a possiblity my ‘red boxers pose’ might be published on the Singaporean national newspaper. Honestly I don’t know why they would want to do that. Singaporean people so skinny already they still want to make them vomit out their lunch some more. Later Jonathan “Talk” Kok sue me for breaking obscenity laws then I know ah.
If you’re wondering about the details of The Straits Times interview, I basically said what I wanted to say in my entry already. I don’t agree with Sarong Party Girl’s ideologies, but I do believe that the newspaper is making a big hoo-hah out of it, and I think Ng Heng Ghee’s remarks about her parents were out-of-place and insensitive.
We talked about the repercussion of this and how the elder generation might become even more paranoid about the Internet and their children keeping blogs. She defended the newspaper’s decision to publish the story in the first place, whilst I argued such gossipy kopitiam talk shouldn’t even be worthy of a 6×4 place on a reputable national newspaper.
I made some comments about bloggers sticking up for one another in times like this. Obviously I’m not the best person to represent the millions of bloggers out there, but I think the statements I made reflect the sentiments the blogging community in general have regarding this Sarong Party Girl situation. We shall see.
All in all, it was a great chat I had with the journalist.
Now, all that’s left to be done is for Sarong Party Girl to read that newspaper article when its published, and convince herself that my dick is in fact, bigger than a white man’s dick. 🙂


I suffer from an incurable disease. Its called Datuknametoolongitis.
Datuknametoolongitis is typically characterised by the sufferer’s inability to remember people’s names in full, especially that of the Datuks. At best the sufferer can absorb the first three syllables of the name. Anything after that becomes pure gibberish.

Jalan Datuk what-what-what?

Kuching, my hometown, is a city that discriminates victims of Datuknametoolongitis, like me. I’m saying that because 70% of the roads here are named after famous people, most of whom are Datuks, some of whom have unfortunately very very long names.
Many years ago I remember studying at a Chinese Primary School along Pineapple Road, not too far from Palm Road. I remember a Jalan Keretapi (Train Road) near Wisma Saberkas. There’s even a oddly named Jalan Central Barat (Central West Road), which is a strange fusion of Malay and English words.

Jalan Rambutan. One of the few old road that retained its name. No there’s no Jalan Coconuts.

I then travelled to Perth Australia where I stayed for eight years growing accustomed to road names like Hay Street where I do my shopping, and James Street where there’s good bubble tea, great coffee and fantastic pubs at night. The longest road name I’ve came across is probably Sir Charles Court Promenade, which is more of a walkway on campus than a road.
And then I return to Kuching. And I experienced reverse culture shock.
There are some changes with Kuching that I can put up with. Then there are some that I cannot.

One road, two names. One new, one old. Kinda defeats the purpose of changing its name isn’t it?

Gone was Jalan Central Barat, its now Jalan Tan Sri Ong Kee Hui. Gone were Palm Road and Jalan Keretapi, its now Jalan Tun Ahmad Zaidi Adruce.
I have nothing against their names. I don’t even know who the heck they are. But I’m sure at one point or another probably they did something so magnificient the city council decided to name a road after them. Then another. And another. And one more. Then another…
As if remembering long and complicated names wasn’t difficult enough for sufferers of Datuknametoolongitis like me, I was further punished by having to differentiate between two almost similar road names.

Two roads, similar names. But the difference is day and night.

Its not that I didn’t try remembering the names. Believe me, I tried. Its very difficult to know the names by heart. One trick I find very useful is to associate the road name with food.

Doing so helps me remember long road names, but makes me hungry very easily.

Its too bad some road names are a bit too long for me to use that trick.

Umm… Jalan Murtabak?

Then they start naming the roundabouts after these famous people.

Try reading them double fast without pausing.

How bad can this get? I thought those were the worst, I have no idea.
Until I came face to face… with The Mother of All Long Roundabout Names.


DOUBLE the “Datuk”, DOUBLE the “Abang Haji”, DOUBLE THE OOMPH!!!

Its not true what they said about Sarawakians living on trees you know. That’s not what we’re famous for.
We’re famous for giving road directions to tourists.
Angmoh tourist: “Excuse me, how do I get to the library?”
Local Sarawakian: “Oh that’s easy! From here, go along Jalan Datuk Abang Abdul Rahim, turn right at Jalan Tun Abdul Rahman and drive until you reach Bulatan Datuk Temenggong Abang Kipali Bin Abang Akip. Do a 3 o’clock towards Jalan TunKU Abdul Rahman, make a left at Jalan Tun Ahmad Zaidi Adruce and drive until you reach the roundabout at Bulatan Datuk Amar Abang Haji Suleiman Bin Haji Taha. Exit at Jalan Tun Abang Haji Openg, then turn left at Jalan Laksamana Cheng Ho. Soon you’ll reach Bulatan Datuk Menteri Abang Haji Mohammad Zin Bin Haji Salleh, where you should turn into Jalan Tun Datuk Patinggi Abang Haji Muhammad Salahuddin until you arrive Bulatan Datuk Patinggi Abang Haji Abdillah Bin Datuk Bandar Abang Haji Mohammad Kassim.
The library is just on your left. Any questions?”

Angmoh tourist:

Which Singaporean Blogger Are You?

One of the biggest kicks I get out of reading blogs from both sides of the causeway is watching the interaction between the two. Case in point, the sexyblogger meme ended up becoming a cross-country ‘grober’ phenomenon.
In general, the popular Singaporean blogs are a lot more fun and humourous in nature (and perhaps overly so) whereas the popular Malaysian blogs can get a little too serious and news-like. Like wine and coffee, its all a matter of personal taste really. Serious blogs raise awareness and educate, whereas fun and humourous blogs seek to entertain.
So anyway, in an effort to promote and further improve the interaction between Singaporean and Malaysian blogs, I (once again) made use of my rusty programming skills and came up with another mini game. This one is heavily inspired by the stupid personality test like “Which Pokemon Character Are You?” that some people post on their blogs.
Its another equally stupid personality test called “Which Singaporean Blogger Are You?”
It took me quite a while to write this (which explains why there wasn’t an update last night), but I’m quite happy with my effort. 🙂 gs I’m doing this partially because I realised that lately I’ve been entertaining my Singaporean readers with fascinating topics such as ‘Racism in Malaysia’ which I’m sure they don’t give two merlion’s coconuts about anyway.
But I’ll do one for Malaysian bloggers at a later date.
Here’s the link to the quiz:
Obviously this isn’t a real personality test. But do visit the whoever’s site that came out in your result, yea?
Try the test and let me know how you went. If you don’t want to put it on your blog/don’t have a blog, you’re more than welcome to spam my comment box with your results. I’m interested. 🙂
I did my test too and here’s what I got.

Congratulations Kenny, you are…

Mr Miyagi of

You are witty, and you know people from places. Those two qualities and others make you a very popular person among your peers, but that’s probably because they want to hear you dish out filthy backstage gossips. You also have a knack for inventing new words to suit yourself. You are a very loyal friend, and would jump into the ocean if your friend asked you to. That’s probably gonna happen if your friend gets too jealous of you pulling all the girls/guys.

Which Singaporean Blogger Are You?

Pub Cast

They’re supposed to sit for their final exams next week, but Irene and IngHui couldn’t care less. Instead of piling on books and burying their faces into lecture notes, the two devils took advantage of Curtin Miri’s week-long study break to drop by Kuching for holidays, so I met up with them.
I’ve known Irene for a while now, but its my first time meeting IngHui since I met her online few months ago. Its interesting hanging out with these two. We met up for cheesecakes at Tom’s and hearing the two girls yak about their shall-we-say “extracurricular activities” is easily the most amusing thing I get to witness. Sometimes I think they’re betraying the female population talking about the things they talked about in front of me. And they weren’t even drunk.
Wednesday night is ladies night, where the girls get free drinks and the guys get to ogle at the girls who came here for free drinks. The three of us initially agreed to go pubbing together as the two girls will be flying back to Miri soon. But alas, they “let go of aeroplane” on me for better plans, and I ended up at the pub alone. Very pathetic.
Actually, having a quiet drink alone isn’t as loserish as it looks. I was sipping vodka in my little corner, observing the dynamics in the room, when suddenly something struck me. Have you ever noticed the types of people who come to pubs are almost identical everywhere?
Just look at their image, their attire, their body language. Its very actually very easy to sort these people into categories. Here’s what I did.

1) The resident pub dwellers
You know the ones. It seems like everytime you visit the pub, they’re there. No, not the staff. I’m talking about people who go to these pubs so often its almost as if they’re part of their furniture. They always stay till late and they’re always saying “Hi!” to people every 2 or 3 minutes. I wonder if they listed the pub as their postal address.

2) The underaged kids
This ones are easy to spot. First of all, they look WAY too damn young to even be drinking. They huddle around the table as if they’re having dinner, sitting there looking very bored, yawning, or even sleeping.
Little Annie probably told her mommy she went out for movies with friends, but here she is dazed and drunk after half glass of Tiger Beer. Why do they go to the pub if its so damn boring? I don’t know, probably because drinking is the cool thing to do.

3) The popular girls
You know her. The popular girl is super chio, nice bod, great top, long legs, thick lashes, million-dollar smile, sashaying in whilst all the guys go ga-ga. The guys she hang out with line up to buy drinks for her and she accepts, winking back at them cheekily, their hearts melt. She enjoys making the guys fall for her, but she doesn’t want anything to do with them. That’s because she most probably has a boyfriend somewhere.
The guys there have no chance. All her girl friends want to get on her good side, but they secretly bitch and backstab her because they’re all jealous of the fact that she steals all the guys’ hearts away.
4) The weird loner who drinks vodka in a quiet corner silently using his camera to take photos of everyone else in the pub, most probably to publish them onto his blog later or something.
Yea, stay away from him.

5) The popular guys
You know him. The popular guy is tall, handsome, big arms, perky butt, spiky hair, million-dollar smile, surrounded by an aura of suaveness.
He’s also very rich but that’s because he’s spending a lot of his father’s money because you always see him walking in and out of the private VIP room with the popular girls. All the girls secretly want to have hot steamy sex with him and all the guys are jealous of him but they’re not as vindicative about it because they get to have free drinks off him.

6) The rich businessmen
These guys are clearly a little too old for a pub filled with 20-somethings. Sometimes they’re seen together with the resident pub dwellers, but most of the time they’re just standing there still like a monument. They are very generous alright, ordering Chivas by the bottle and shouting everyone free drinks.
They shamelessly flaunt their wealth, because they can. At the end of the night all they want to do is to get into the pants of a girl young enough to be their daughter. And sadly for us, they usually succeed.

7) The desperate single males
Sit around, beer in one hand, popular girl walks in, eyes lit up, approach her? Nabeh… boyfriend look very fierce, got tattoo one. Waiting waiting waiting, watch soccer on TV, sip another beer, vampy little nymphette walks in. Wah her clothes so terror! Approach her? Don’t want lah, too shy. Take another sip, watch somemore soccer, aiya stupid Beckham dunno how to kick, miss the goal completely! CCB.
Waseh one chio bu just walked past me, fuyohhhh, check out the boobs on her. Aiyo how come the boyfriend so fugly, bad taste, dirty dancing some more. Dance with me lah! Haiyah. Finish drinking liaw. Buy another beer? Fuck lah no money. Tiu, so boring, no girls one. Better go home, wank and sleep lah.

8) The vampy little nymphettes
These small, young and petite little girls are helluva easy to spot. They usally come in wearing a top one-inch too low, a skirt one-inch too short, and ended up looking like Bai Ling on a bad hair day.
I don’t deny that they are sexy mamas with a sizzling hot bodies to boot. Its just that when the slut-factor is turned up way too high, good taste turns sour, clouds turn grey and birds fall off the sky. All the girls hate her and all the guys pretend to hate her whilst they stare at her cleavage.
The vampy little nymphettes will act like divas, cigarettes in one hand, alcohol on the other, coldly rejecting any attempt to start a conversation. Unless you’re the rich businessman, the popular guy, or an angmoh, in which case they’ll latch on to you like koala bears, virtually begging you to bring them home.
Those lucky bastards.

Ang Mo


The original ‘Ang Mo’.

I know racism is a boh liao topic but please just bear with me one last time. 🙂
First off, apologies in advance to non-Chinese/Hokkien readers. This entry will be written from a Chinese guy’s point of view so much of this entry might not be entirely comprehensible. Also for this entry only I shall use ‘we/us’ to refer to Chinese and ‘them’ to refer to Caucasians.
Its quite interesting to read the suggestions some commenters have come up with to replace the Hokkien word ‘Ang Mo’ for Caucasians. Its also interesting to note that no one have yet come up with a solution to call Caucasians without making references to their skin colour, their hair colour, or by calling them ghosts.

Try calling her gwei-lo. Or rather, gwei-lui.

I know the word ‘Ang Mo’ is not meant to be deragotory, and most Caucasians don’t mind being called ‘Ang Mo’ or ‘Pek Lang’ or ‘Gwei Lo’. After all, those are colloquial terms instilled in our mind since young. But colloquialism is not an excuse for racism.
Put it this way, how would you like to be called a ‘Yellow people’ or a ‘Ching-Chong-Chang’ when you’re overseas? I know I wouldn’t be very happy if a Caucasian were to call me a ‘Ching-Chong-Chang’ instead of an ‘Asian’. So how come when we call them ‘Ang Mo’ its ok because its colloquial, but when they call us ‘Yellow people’ we think its racist? Those words are similar what!
I don’t understand. We can call Dayaks ‘La Kia’, Indians ‘Kek Leng Nga’, and Malays ‘Hua Na’ (not the little girl Huang Na, ok). YET, there are NO words to call Caucasians or Africans without making references to their skin colours. What is wrong with us Chinese!? We’re even funny enough to call ourselves ‘Terng Lang’ when clearly we are not the longest people on this planet!
Actually I do have a body part that’s very long. But that’s besides the point.

Yao Ming. The original ‘Terng Lang’. The girl in the picture is Coco Lee. She’s the cousin of my balls, Coco Nuts.

There’s a few people who suggested that calling Caucasians ‘Ang Mo’ is not accurate. ‘Ang Mo’ literally means ‘red hair’ but Caucasians are mostly blonde or brunette. We should call them ‘Kim Mo’ (gold hair) or ‘Chocolate Mo’ (brown hair) respectively instead. Then again, looking at the number of people dying their hair these days, I think calling a Caucasian ‘Kim Mo’ is also no longer accurate.

Anita Sarawak is not an Ang Mo leh.

Jeff Yen suggested that instead of calling them ‘Ang Mo’, maybe we can be more specific by referring them to their nationality. So we avoid the skin colour issue by calling them American (Bee-kok lang), or British (Ying-kok lang), or Australian (Oh-jiu lang). Of course that wouldn’t work right? Everybody knows these countries are actually quite multi-racial. Just because someone is American, doesn’t mean the person is Caucasian.

Snoop Doggy Dog clearly is not Ang Mo.

So how?
Here’s where I propose a solution. We need to create a new word. Let’s put an end to Chinese people calling Caucasians by their hair or skin colour!
Notice how some Chinese words are created from English words?
Like how ‘Mahathir’ is 马哈迪(Ma Ha Di) and ‘George W Bush’ is 不死(Bu Si)?
Let’s just translate the word ‘Caucasian’ to Chinese then.
Caucasian = Kou Ke Xian = 口渴先= Thirsty First
Caucasian = Gou Gu Xian = 狗骨先= Fresh Dog Bones
Caucasian = Ku Gua Xian = 苦瓜仙= Bittergourd Angel
Ugh… hopeless. I think I’ll just stick to calling them ‘Ang Mo’ for the time being.
I’m a big fan of Quentin Tarantino’s black comedy Pulp Fiction.
I thought the scene where Samuel L Jackon’s character (a hired assassin) uttered out a passage from the Bible before opening fire on his victim was a classic. Its so grim yet so funny. I never took his character in the other his movies seriously since.
Like the one in Star Wars.
I can’t help it!

Oh No, Not Another Post On Racism

Racism in Malaysia is a recurring topic that often crops up in people’s blogs every 2 – 3 months.
It is an important topic. But frankly speaking, the topic has been done to death. Every man, woman, uncle, auntie, ang moh, cina, malay, Ah Beng, Ah Seng, and Hello Kitty have all written a blog entry on Racism in Malaysia. In fact, I think a Malaysian blog isn’t a Malaysian blog until you’ve written something about racism.

Even expats like ShaolinTiger wrote about racism in Malaysia. (No actual Shaolin tigers were harmed in the photoshopping of this photo)

Recently, the discussion on racism cropped up again after an e-mail from a so-called ‘very frightened Malaysian abroad’. Click here if you want to read it in full, but here’s a heavily-shortened version.

Dear Mr Ooi,
I have been meaning to pen some thoughts for some time now, to let people actually read the views of the typical ‘overseas Malaysian’ who is kept away.
I accepted a Malaysian government scholarship to study at Oxford University [and later] Harvard University for postgraduate study.
Now I am 31 years old and draw a comfortable monthly salary of US$22,000. Yet, I yearn to return home. I miss my home, my family, my friends, and the life in Malaysia. But of late, my idealistic vision of my country has really come crashing down.
I read about the annual fiasco involving non-bumiputera top scorers who are denied entry to critical courses at local universities and are offered forestry and fisheries instead.
I read about a poor Chinese teacher’s daughter with 11A1’s being denied a scholarship, while I know some Malay friends who scored 7A’s and whose parents are millionaires being given scholarships.
I read about the Malay newspaper editors attacking the private sector for not appointing enough Malays to senior management level, whilst insisting that the government always ensure that Malays dominate anything government-related.
I read that at our local universities, not a single Vice-Chancellor or Deputy Vice-Chancellor is non-Malay.
I read about a poor Indian lady having to pay full price for a low-cost house after being dispossessed from a plantation, whilst Malay millionaires demand their 10% bumiputera discount when buying RM2 million bungalows in a gated community.
As I read all this, I tremble with fear. I love my country and long to return. I am willing to take a 70% pay cut. I am willing to face a demotion. But really, is there a future for me, for my children and for their children? I am truly frightened.
I can deal with the lack of democracy, the lack of press freedom, the ISA, our inefficient and bureaucratic civil service, our awful manners and even a little corruption. But I cannot deal with racism in my homeland.
Yours sincerely,
A very frightened Malaysian abroad

After reading that email, my first reaction was “Wah! USD22,000 per month ar? Tio boh?”
But seriously speaking I can empathise with the guy. I’m lucky I don’t have to deal with racism in my everyday life because for some reason I seem to get along with all races very well. I’d like to think of myself as one who embraces cultural differences and I’d like everyone else to do that too.
The only instance I got accused of being a racist was when I wrote about Star Wars: Revenge of the Sikh, which is odd considering I was blasting the AiFM Chinese radio presenter.
Then there’s also once in Australia, an ang moh workmate of mine asked me why I call them ‘ang mo’, since the words ‘ang mo’ and ‘gwei lo’ are intrinsically racist. I stared at him with my mouth wide open as I struggled to find a less racist word for ‘Caucasian’ in Hokkien.
Its a different story when you talk about the Malaysian government, or ‘gahmen’, if you like. Digressing a little – I have no idea why some people insist on calling ‘government’ as ‘gahmen’. Here in Kuching, we call them ‘garblement’ because that’s what they do. They keep on sending out garbled messages to us all the time.
So anyway, do I think the Malaysian garblement is racist? Unforunately yes. I’d even go as far as to say that the Malaysian garblement has more racist policies than the Australian garblement, which is saying a lot considering how Malaysia once cried out against Australia over their ‘racist’ immigration policies and treatment of refugees.
But is it a surprise? Hardly. What do you expect when the ruling party ever since Malaysia’s independance is a Malay race-based political party called UMNO?

“Let no one from the other races ever question the rights of Malays on this land. Don’t question the religion because this is my right on this land.” – Badruddin, UMNO Deputy Chairperson
“Eh hello. I’m born here so its also my right to be here also wat. So hao lian for what?” – Kenny Sia, Blogger.

Btw, I always thought the name ‘UMNO’ for a political party is kinda cute. Can you imagine what their caucus sessions are like?

UMNO Minion: “Prai Minster! Prai Minster! Can we adopt another policy to increase our bumi discount to 30% pleaseee?”
Prime Minister: “UM… NO.”
UMNO Minion: “Then 20% can?”
Prime Minister: “UM. NO!”
UMNO Minion: “15%?”
Prime Minister: “UMNO!!!”
UMNO Minion: “Mmmk. :(“

Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against pro-Bumi policies. Before Mahathir, a lot of Malays are living well below the poverty line. Look at them now, how many of them can go onto Universities and finally afford their own cars?
The wealth gap between Chinese and Malay had been far too wide for far too long, and I think its a bloody good thing that the situation for Malays has improved to the way it is today. A country like Malaysia needs pro-Bumi policies.
On the other hand, policies like these are exploited. By right, regardless of race, the poor and the needy should be the first in line to receive government assistance. But look at what’s happening. The richest Malays in this country are still receiving discounts when they buying houses. How about those who really need it? Clearly, something is wrong.
I’m happy pro-Bumi policies improved the welfare of Malays in this country. I’m happy that it quelled the 1969 racial riot.
But please give me a break lah. Pro-Bumi policies are supposed help the underprivileged bumiputeras stand on their own two feet, NOT hold their hand and walk the long hard road for them. Once they are rescued beyond the poverty line, its time for them to stop relying on the government and start working hard like everyone else to earn their place in society.
I believe Pro-Bumi policies exist as a privilege, not as a right. If these policies still continue to work in favour of the bumiputeras who don’t need it instead of non-bumiputeras who need it, that’s when pro-Bumi policies crossed to the Dark Side and become Racist policies.

Darth Badawi lives.

Do the leaders of this country know what’s wrong with their pro-Bumi policies? I’m sure they do.
But are they doing something about it? No. And I think it does not take a USD22,000-per-month salary to know why not.
The leader of this country is a Malay-race based political party. So long as there are Malays voting for them, they will always remain in power and they will always come up with pro-Malay policies to make their voters happy. Meanwhile, non-Malays will continue to cry foul. But they can’t do anything about it because they can never garner as many votes as the ruling party.
Its gonna take an UMNO leader with the balls of steel to risk losing votes and say to his supporters “Look, we’ve have done enough for you now. We’ve helped you out of poverty, but don’t worry if you fall because the government will always be here for you. You’re all grown up now so its time for you to stop relying on me and start working hard on your own.”
But until that happen, nothing is gonna change.
This is a sensitive topic and I urge everyone to practise vigilance when leaving comments. Meanwhile, I leave you with a question that’s been troubling me for a very very long time.
Is there anyone out there who can suggest to me a less racist version of ‘ang mo’ in Hokkien?

Revenge of the Malaysian Girl

New blogger Cheneille from Penang KL didn’t like what I wrote about Why I Should Date Singaporean Girls, which is why she crafted a retaliation entry that not only made my balls shrink to the size of raisins, she practically chewed both of them off and made pancakes out of it.
(In my defence, just because I was praising Singaporean girls doesn’t mean I’m putting down Malaysian girls leh. 🙂 )
Update: Please stop attacking Cheneille. She means no malice and I like what she wrote. Its all done in good humour. Here’s a T-shirt to cool you down.
Here’s what she wrote.

2. Singaporean Girls have a good sense of humor.
“Look Kenny you probably haven’t met many Malaysian girls then. We have a sense of humor too!! We know the difference between a sarcastic joke and a sarcastic insult too! Whaddya mean you don’t have to worry as much about offending someone? We don’t get offended easily okay! How dare you! Hmph I angree oledi. *aiya die die i tink hor i’m falling into his trap now leh.. i reli got no ai-dier if he was jus told a joking anot wor. so how now? tolonggg* ah hehe I was just testing you.. Of COURSE i’m not mad! Oh teehee Kenny you’re like SO funny! *bimbo voice* oh did you like hear about that one about britney spears kissing madonna? that is like, ridiculously hilarious! i mean like, britney kissing like madonna? omg that is just so like tickling me!”
6. Singaporean Girls are health-conscious.
“That explains why there are more aneroxia cases in Singapore.”

I was browsing through some magazines in a bookshop earlier today when I noticed Mr & Mr Smith was featured on a recent issue of Hype, which apparently is some Malay language teeny-bopper Smash-Hitz type magazine.
Looks normal right? Ok don’t ask me what ‘Macho Membunuh’ and ‘Anggun Membunuh’ means. I have no idea.
Here’s a closer look.
What the heck?
Face it lah. Some Malay-to-English translation just wouldn’t sound right even if you attempted it. You think your Malay-speaking readers need all the English words to be translated in order to understand it one meh?
Another newly-invented Malay word I cannot stand is ‘Gempak’.
When I first saw that word on an Astro poster, it annoyed the hell out of me because I can’t for the live of me figure out what ‘Gempak’ is supposed to mean. I kept pronouncing it ‘Gh-erm Pa-ak’. It took me half a day to realise ‘Gempak’ is the Malay-equivalent of the English word ‘Jam Pack’. A bit ridiculous, right?
Meanwhile, here’s a free movie poster I made especially for the Hype magazine editors.

Guide to Gawai Lights

The Gawai (not to be confused with the Japanese word ‘Kawaii’, which means something else completely different) is a uniquely Sarawakian harvest-cum-thanksgiving festival celebrated by the native Dayaks here every 1st June.

Hello Kitty. This pampered pussy changes into her cultural clothes every festive season. I call her the Barbie Doll cat.

Whilst the Malays are the natives (or bumiputeras) and form the dominant race in Peninsular Malaysia, the Dayaks are the dominant race in Sarawak, just as the Kadazans are the dominant race in Sabah. A lot of them are from the rural area, but have since migrated to Kuching city for work and studies.
A common misconception held is that the Dayaks are similar to Malays because it seems as if both races speak the Bahasa Melayu as their mother tongue. In actual fact, the Dayaks speak a language that is very similar but not identical to Bahasa Melayu.

Jalan Padungan. You can call it Chinatown, but Kuching city is majority Chinese anyway.

Apart from that, the Dayaks are now very modernised and drastically different to the bloodthirsty headhunters the history books tell us. Most Dayaks here practise Christianity instead of Islam. They are also bloody good alcohol drinkers, and the younger ones have damn cool English-sounding names like ‘Matthew Anderson Lockhart’.
One thing I appreciate living in Malaysia is that almost all races here get to celebrate their respective festivities. I forget how good it felt because I don’t have that kind of luxury when I was in Australia. I can personally attest that hauling your ass to work/lecture on the first day of Chinese New Year isn’t the best feeling in the world.

This is how we celebrate festivities in Kuching… by making our streets a little bit brighter.

So anyway, I was in the city last night practising my night photography skills when I noticed a particularly interesting set of decorative lights along Jalan Song Thian Chiok that seems to be telling us some story. Its a bit like pictures in the Egyptian pyramids really.
I know they’re supposed to depict customs and cultural practices of the Dayaks here. But someone not born here might not be able to understand what’s going. So here’s what they might intepret it instead.

This is a story about how the Dayaks celebrate the Gawai Festival.

All day long, the men sit on their butts smoking their big-arse Sarawakian cigarettes. What’s this Dunhill thing you’re talking about? Dunhill is for pansies. Sarawakian cigarettes are for real men, like us.

Feminism? Never heard of it. Our bitches spend their day and night rolling them big-arse Sarawakian cigarettes for us, the real men. For entertainment, we dress them up in skimpy clothes so we can watch them shake their asses while we smoke our life away. Ooh yea, baby.

And, errrr…

Usually them chicks do a good job out of it. But sometimes they don’t. So we gotta teach them a lesson, eh?

Of course the Dayaks are all really friendly people and they’re not like that at all. But decorations like that can easily be misinterpretated, eh? 🙂 Happy holidays, my fellow Sarawakians.

If I Could Be A Blogging Musical Baton

Oh dear. The entire blogging community is going through ‘meme-mania’ right now. Please excuse me while I go into exile.
Except I can’t. I’m supposed to be whoring for votes since its Blog Awards season. Alright, so I’ll do the memes, but under one condition.
If you choose to send me a meme, then I reserve the right to:

A) Post up photos of you, if you’re a girl.
B) Post up photos of your wife/girlfriend, if you’re a guy.
C) Or if all else fails, I’ll just post up photos of your mother.

Its policy. 🙂
Let’s face it, a long and texty entry can be quite boring when there’s no pretty pictures to look at. Without further a do, very relunctantly and not-so-proudly presents to you this Super 3-in-1 Nescafe Mix Meme entry.
The If I Could Be Meme
Tilia is a little-known Malaysian blogger who described herself as “technically, every men’s wet dream”. It isn’t that far from the truth considering she’s one “hot little cheerleader” through and through.

What? She’s the one who passed me the meme? I don’t want to play already.

I didn’t believe her at first because the name ‘Tilia’ sounds like the name of that wrinkly old hag ‘Twila’ from Survivor Vanuatu. But I just checked and Tilia is confirmed a real cheerleader.
Here’s one interesting thing about Tilia. Instead of calling her comments ‘Comments’, she called it ‘Orgasms’.
I wanted to leave her a comment, but I felt kinda guilty giving her an ‘Orgasm’ and walk away just like that. Hey, I don’t think many girls would appreciate getting an ‘Orgasm’, only to see the guy head for the shower room without at least some cuddles and kisses, right?

Meet Tilia. Looks like she received multiple comments ‘Orgasms’… on her blog.

So anyway, Tilia tagged me with the ‘If I Could Be’ meme, which basically requires me to choose 5 3 occupations and complete the sentence “If I could be a scientist / doctor / rap artist / CEO of Microsoft / priest / world famous blogger etc…” you get the drift.
If I Could Be A Priest. Then I’ll be staying with Michael Jackson at the Neverland Ranch, baby. Good things are meant to be shared.
If I Could Be A World Famous Blogger. I’d accidentally lose my digital camera, plead for donation, suddenly find my digital camera, then refund my donation again. 😉

If I Could Be A World Famous Blogger, this would be my site.

If I Could Be A Missionary, I’d wondering why I ain’t a Cowgirl or a Doggie.
The Blogger’s Baton Meme
This one is from

Minishorts is the small one. Not the big one.

The best entry I’ve ever blogged is:
All my favourite entries are filed over here. Considering I got two ‘marriage proposals’ and an award nomination out of my April Fool’s entry, many would say that’s my best entry. I’m happy I made you laugh. 🙂
But for me, the entry I wrote the day I scattered my father’s ashes still affects me the most everytime I read back.
The five blogs I read that may be better than mine:

1) Lainie Yeoh. Breaking every social norm there is to break. If life as a lesbian is that interesting, I want to be one too. Actually I’m a lesbian trapped in a man’s body.
2) HB. Breaking every social norm there is to break, and MORE. Widely regarded as one of the blogging pioneers from Sarawak. My layout of is inspired from his site.
3) Finicky Feline. I’ve only just started reading her and I’d be lying if I say her entries didn’t crack me up. Her “Guys Suck” thread blow my “Understanding Women” thread to smithereens.
4) Wendy Cheng. Because she’s my *cough*wife-to-be*cough*. 😉
5) Scarlett Ting. Because she’s my “other wife-to-be”. In all seriousness, she’s the first person I can honestly say I got to know through blogging. If you read some of her entries, you probably can’t understood what the heck she’s writing. Don’t blame yourself though, her entries are indeed more cryptic than dialogues in The Matrix.
As for me, I just enjoy looking at the pictures.

I know my readers are addicted to my blog because:

OH COME ON! Quit lying to yourself! You know you love me coconuts. 🙂

The Musical Baton Meme
QUESTION: What do Scarlett Ting, IngHui and Lainie have in common?
ANSWER: Yes, they are all girls. And they all want to see me play with my ‘Musical Baton’.
I wonder if their ‘Musical Batons’ are battery-operated.

IngHui passed her ‘baton’ to me. I don’t know what to do with it.

Total volume of music files on my computer:
30 Giga-fucking-Bytes. That’s 5817 titles, 406 hours of non-stop hits.
The last CD I bought was:
David Tao autographed album
I still wanna sell it though. Hey, I can even autograph it if you want – but I think that’s gonna make the CD go down in value instead.
Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me:
I’ve uploaded the songs so you can download them here. Be quick though. The links will mysteriously disappear in 3 days time. 😉
1. Jasemaine Gan – Thinking of You
Jasemaine Gan is a singer/songwriter/composer/blogger. She sent me one of her songs titled Thinking of You in an effort to cheer me up following my father’s passing.
I’m honoured. Of the many things writing this blog brings me, one thing I cherish the most is that it puts me in touch with people I wouldn’t possibly be meeting otherwise in real life.
2. F.I.R – Love Love Love
Its a great up-tempo song to sing-along to. Never fails to put me in a perky mood.
3. George Michael – Roxanne
I enjoy this bass-filled jazzy number by the toilet-incident man himself. One of my goals in life, when I have the time and the money, is to operate a cafe/jazz lounge. If I do succeed in that, then this song will be playing in my cafe 24 hours a day, effectively driving my customers away and putting myself out of business.
4. Corrinne May – Fly Away
What can I say? Its the one song that reminds me so much of my own situation.
5. The only song I listen to EVERYDAY is Oren Ishii’s Theme from Kill Bill Vol. 1
Why, you ask? Its my bloody alarm clock ringtone THAT’S WHY! I tell ya, nothing prepares your day better than imagining yourself as Oren Ishii marching down that corridor in Kill Bill Vol 1 as you drag your sorry ass out of the bed and into the loo.

“Silly Caucasian girl likes to play with samurai swords.”

Phew! What a lengthy link-ridden entry this one is.
Oh yeah, I’ve forgotten to pass the baton on to someone else! Silly me.
Here goes.


Don’t tell me you didn’t expect this to come.

Alright, that’s it guys. Have some mercy. Please don’t meme me anymore!

Vote me! Vote me!

Guess what? I’m shortlisted as a finalist in the Project Petaling Street (PPS) Blog Awards! In two out of three prestigious categories no less!
This could mean one of two things. Either I’m one bloody good blogger. Or people in the Malaysian blogging community have finally gone crazy liaw.
But in all seriousness, I’m very flattered. Although I have my serious side from time to time, what I write here are usually very light-hearted and perhaps even ‘infantile’ in nature. There are ‘mature’ bloggers out there (both in terms of their content and their age) who fully deserves to be awarded Blog of the Year. I know I’m not one of them.
Many people believe that Jeff Ooi deserves the Blog of the Year award, but yet he’s not one of the finalists. Well of course not. That man is obviously eyeing his Freedom Blog Awards. He’s not gonna take this PPS bullshit!
In any case, I’m very surprised and I’m very flattered. Judging by the silly things I write, I never regard myself as one of the best bloggers Malaysia has to offer. It makes my balls grow bigger knowing that there are people who do, and I sincerely thank you for that.
If I win these awards, somebody should buy me a new pair of underwear.

Blog of the Year

Ping of the Year


Only Malaysian bloggers registered with Project Petaling Street can vote though. Singaporean readers can show their support by hanging a big banner across Woodlands Checkpoint. Or you can just tell me you love me when I hijack attend the Singapore Bloggers Conference on the 16th July.
But anyway, I won’t ask you to vote for me, because Kenneth Chiew will. 🙂