Of Cheese and Penguins

Alright, this is gonna be one of those what-I-had-for-lunch kinda post. Feel free to ignore if you wanna.

One of the best things about having a blog is that it does a lot of good to your stagnant social life.
Moving back to Malaysia from Perth after 8 years was a big turning point for me, because that meant losing a lot of friends and networks that I’ve built up over the years. But ever since I got readers coming to this site, I’ve been meeting new people from all over the place non-stop. And I love every moment of it.

Jasiminne the Penguin is one of the more interesting ones I met recently. At just 19, this quirky graphic design student is showing a lot of talent in photography and photo-editting. You gotta be impressed with some of her creative artwork.

Cheesie is another one. When I first mentioned her in my entry about The Stellars , she didn’t take the avalanche of insults too well and ended up feeling distraught for several days.
Who’d have thought just 30 days later, a lot of positives came out as a consequence of that entry. I shan’t divulge too much. Suffice to say, Kenny Sia here indirectly played the role of a matchmaker and *cough* found her a special someone after being featured on kennysia.com. How cool is that?

So anyway, I was in KL over the weekend and made plans to meet up with the two girls. Couldn’t get hold of Cheesie initially because she had more important things to do like attending a play.

Starbucks Espresso Tiramisu cake = 4/10.

Jasiminne and I had Starbucks and Haagen Dazs at KLCC. Camwhored a bit. It’s damn difficult to control myself everytime I meet up with a hot chick ok. It’s even worse when mildly suggestive sexual connotations are all over the place.

We had this phallic-looking bowl of ice-cream from Haagen Dazs.

And discovered there’s this new menu item called the Melon Milkshake. Seriously, wtf?

“Hi, can I have some of your Melon Milkshake please?”

We’re waiting for Cheesie but she didn’t pick up our calls.
Jasiminne’s pal Leonard was nice enough to pick us up from KLCC after work and ferry us around. We stopped by the KLPac (performing arts centre), which is a absolutely gorgeous. It’s tucked inside a park hidden away from the hustle and bustle of central KL.
Then it’s down to more camwhoring.

SEPET 3: One Chinese boy. One Chinese girl. One wardrobe malfunction.

It wasn’t until much much later that evening that Cheesie FINALLY called us. By then we’d already left for dinner at The Curve.

Questionable Hotel Souvenirs

When I was in KL, I had the pleasure pressure of staying at Imperial Hotel. Despite the regal-sounding name, it’s actually a dodgy-looking hotel located in the dirtier seedier side of the glitzy Bukit Bintang.

As I took the lift up onto the 3rd floor, I noticed the cleaners were sleeping on old newspapers on the floor.
It was quite a sight. I’ve stayed in worse hotels before (in Saratok), but to witness the hotel staff giving you a warm welcome by sleeping on the floor – now that’s definitely a first.

I paid for a Deluxe Room at a rate of RM81 per night. “Deluxe” being a relative term. Anything better than a rubbish dump is considered deluxe when compared to the other rooms of that hotel.

Of course lah, I was being damn stingy. Money is hard to come by these days ya know?
Stupid petrol price increase. And I thought AirAsia moving to the Low Cost Terminal is gonna help make flights cheaper. Why the heck is it called LOW COST terminal if you’re gonna charge us HIGHER airport taxes? Brainless idiots.
Didn’t wanna pay for better hotel since my flight was at 5:30am the following morning and I’d only planned to get a few hours of shut eye before I had to head out to the airport.

As it turns out, my night was spent catching up with naeboo at the mamak stalls in Bangsar till the wee hours of the morning. I ended up spending not more than a grand total 5 glorious minutes in my RM81-a-night hotel room.
What a way to waste your hard-earned money, Kenny. Well done. At least I don’t have to worry about burly transexuals knocking on my hotel room door at 3 in the morning to gimme a “Welcome to KL” from my backside.
One bizarre thing I did encounter in the hotel room though, was this.

I know it’s not uncommon for hotels to offer items from their hotel room as mementoes their guests can purchase. But seriously though, it baffles me why ANYONE would wanna buy second-hand crap from a dodgy budget hotel at prices that’ll make Ikea look like Petaling Street?

Do they expect tourists to carry a dusty torn sofa (semen stains complimentary) all the way back to Germany or something?

Bed spread for RM200. Bed sheet for RM60. Blanket for RM180…

MATTERS PROTECTOR for RM40! What the heck is a MATTERS PROTECTOR? Protect your “matter” one is it? I thought condoms cost like RM1 only leh.
I think this condom must be special one – have LV prints all over it.
I wouldn’t put this up on kennysia.com if it weren’t for those “questionable” items they are selling. Among them…

An eye viewer? What’s an eye viewer?

Fancy a used Foot Mat for RM15? Take a whiff.
Or how about a Toilet Door for RM200?
“Hey Dear, look what I’ve got for you from my trip to Malaysia? It’s a TOILET DOOR! Happy?”
These hotel people are nuts I tell you.

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Egyptian Magician

The function I attended in KL this past weekend had an Egyptian theme to it.

The event organizers did a great job recreating the Egyptian atmosphere at the Sime Darby Convention Centre, decorating the entire ballroom with (styrofoam) hieroglyphic walls and even shipped over some entertainers from Egypt to entertain us in the lobby before the show.
The “Egyptians” spoke suspiciously in a Indian accent. I asked one of them from which ancient city they hail from and he said Subang Jaya, Egypt.

Dessert came a bit late, so he started first.

It always freaks me out everytime I watch people play with fire like that. What amused me though was his warning message to us during his performance.
“Please don’t try this at home har. You want to try, you can try here. Not at home har!”

Also on hand was an Egyptian fortune teller, who apparently has the uncanny ability to read into a person’s future with the aid of magnifying glass and a plasma ball.

Here’s what the Grande O’ Ball-Reading Psychic had to say about Kenny Sia.
– “Long life. That means above the age of 80.”
– “Very good next 5 years. You can get money suddenly.”
– “Very good lady you can get. Very soon. Within 5 years you can get marriage.”
– “Very intelligent. Particularly you are very courageous.”
– “Following 6 year period. You can expect much more money from sudden change.”
– “From 2006 to 2010 – 4 years will be your fortunate period. You will get much more money and within this period you will enjoy your good life.”

The Fire-Eating Egyptian requests the Ball-Reading Egyptian to read his ass.

WAH! So nice. But that’s like the same as 30 other people’s future he read before me.
I thanked the Grande O’ Ball-Reading Psychic profusely. Then I put his finger on my left nut while I read into his future.
“One… two… three…. four… five… You will have a very good life, Mr Psychic. You will make a lot of money within 5 years. And according to my reliable Hairy Coconut Ball-O’-Mystery, you are also a graduate of the University of Lick Balls And Bullcrapping. Correct?”

The most entertaining person of the night was perhaps the charismatic Egyptian Magician himself. You may have heard of David Copperfield. You may have seen David Blaine. But have you met David Hassan?
Click the play button to watch the Egyptian Magician in action.

Now, how the hell did he do that?!

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Miss Sarawak Model of the World Hair Show

Beauty pageants are like money. Having some is good. Having more is better. One thing for sure, there’s never enough beauty pageants in this world.

The Miss Sarawak Model of the World 2006 is yet another beauty pageant that just started in Sarawak this year. They held a hair show recently at the Travillion, and I popped in to look at chio bu cuci mata study the situation.
The hair show was held in conjunction with Alan Salon. This being the first hair show I attended, I didn’t quite know what to expect. Mannnn, what an eye opener it was.

The show started off innocently enough when four impossibly slim girls came out to parade in skimpy frocks and hair that rivals Mt Kinabalu in size.

This must be the Haute Couture of hair fashion industry designed to promote the reputation of the salon. Don’t imagine anyone would wear these out on the streets.

This one looks like she has aircond piping going through her head.
I don’t know if these four are contestants for Miss Sarawak or specially-hired dancers for the show – the emcee sorta rattled off a long list of names without exactly introducing who is who.

After a while, we’re introduced to three hair models who will be the guinea pigs for the show. The three made a spectacular entrance, dashing out onto the platform wearing masks from masquerade balls.

This is her “Before” look.
Their stylists followed shortly, led by Alan himself of Alan Salon fame, and began chopping off hair left right centre like nobody’s business.

Here’s where it gets interesting. Because this is essentially a fashion show, the models had to have their hair cut while still posing as sexily as they can. So you have this awkward situation where a man is snip-snip-snipping off her hair, and then she had her hair falling all over the floor doing this.

Or this.

Or even this.

Mommy, when I grow up, I want to be a hair stylist too.
Most of the spectators were here to gawk at the contestants for the Miss Sarawak MotW pageant, but strangely they played second fiddle to the hair show models, posing only when the stylists were doing their job.

There’s a few great lookers among the contestants, but I think the crowd favourite that night was the girl in white.

OK lah she’s probably not the crowd favourite, but at least she’s my favourite can?

Something about her hot cowgirl demeanor appeals to me.
Anyway, the whole show lasted for a short 45 minutes, after a one-and-a-half hour delay. I kinda forgotten about the hair show that’s going on halfway thru. In any case, here’s the end result of one of the hair models.

The Miss Sarawak Model of the World will be decided at the Grand Final this 30th March at the Crowne Plaza.

I hope the cowgirl wins the show.

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My Heritage

There’s this pretty nifty application online called MyHeritage.com
What it does is that you upload your photo, and they match it against the celebrities in their database. It’s quite fun. Plenty of people have tried it already, so I figured why not post up my results on kennysia.com?
At first I just used a normal tulan photo of myself.

And I got this.

WAH! I am 54% like Jay Chou. “Mai ko ah neh pa wa ma ma!” Man, I’m starting to like this thing already. I decided to something uglier.
Here’s a photo I’ve taken of my exhausted self in the midst of my 42km race.

50 CENT!
“Waddup all mah niggaz in da hood?! Dis iz fiddy callin’ up all mah homeboyz from K-to-da-U-ching! Ya dig?”
I’m 50 Cent , which is still not bad, other than the fact that I don’t have his “bling”, or his money, or his throngs of girls in bikinis. 🙁
While I’m at it, might as well upload a rare photo of myself. This photo of me looking like a chipmunk was taken some years ago. My face was all swelled up because it was the day after I extracted all four of my wisdom teeth.

And I become Chairman Mao!
Then I decided to try something different.

Yea, that’s me putting on a facial mask.
I was half-expecting my match to turn out like this.

Unexcitingly, I received no match to the database. What a let down.

But you see, I very the smart. If there’s one thing I know about face recognition engines, it’s that they analyse the eyes of the person to determine a match.
I didn’t have my eyes showing in that pic. That’s why there’s no match.
So I did this.

Guess who’s my match?

Which part of me look like bootylicious Beyonce?
At least I didn’t have it as bad as this guy.

Which celebrity do you look like?

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How To Improve Your Communication Skills

A certain telco company in Malaysia is holding a beauty pageant type contest, aptly named – and don’t get me started on this – the ‘Leng Lui Hall of Fame’.
Each month, customers can vote for their favourite ‘leng lui’ (earning the telco money). Customers can even download wallpapers and video clips of the girls (earning the telco money and maybe freaking the girl out in the process).
Not bad a revenue-generating strategy I say.
Anyway, I was looking through this month’s contestants when this particular leng lui’s profile almost made me puke my coffee out onto my keyboard.

Waliew! Poor girl.
I think I know what she meant lah, but mannnnn… I can imagine her dinner date to go on forever like this.

Lee Hom Heroes of Earth Promo Tour

Chinese-American pop star turned hip-hop artist Wong Lee Hom was in town over the weekend as part of his Heroes of Earth Promo Tour.

I managed to secure two tickets to watch him perform live at the MBKS Indoor Stadium.
Note that those are “VIP” tickets. It found out later that those words are nothing but mere decoration on the paper.

The show is scheduled to start at 8pm. I chose to arrive at around 8:15pm instead. There’s really not much point coming to the venue earlier other than get a good vantage point to stand. The first 30 minutes of these kinda promo shows are always the same kinda boring bullcrap.
First, the host would desperately try to get the crowd pumped up. Then she’d invite some overenthusiastc fans onstage to poorly emulate their idol singing. These fans would then win crappy prizes such as a plastic pen, a lousy notebook, poster and – if they’re lucky – a CD from another singer that nobody else wants.

In hindsight, it probably was a good idea to come in earlier.
The pile up of cars outside the stadium was an indication, but nothing could prepare me for the horror inside the stadium. It was literally PACKED to the max. It’s a complete riot. I’ve never seen so many people squeezed into one building before, not even during the David Tao promo tour last year. Every inch of the ground was filled with sweaty human flesh.
It’s like the whole entire Kuching’s teenage population were gathering there.

I was supposed to enter the VIP area right in front of the stage which offered a bit more space, but there’s literally no space to manouvre around at all. I could barely even make it past the main entrance.
The RELA guys (government-sanctioned volunteers for crowd control) were particularly agitated that evening, screaming abuses and shoving people along the way. If you watch the video later, you might even hear it. Geez, whatever happened to anger management?
Everyone was packed like sardines and everyone was sweating profusely. For that one night, the MBKS Indoor Stadium turned into one big freakin’ giant sauna, except without the coals, or the wooden bench, or the babes in towels.

The organisers don’t have to worry about packing away these roll-out posters. They’re all gone before the night ends.

It was 8:30pm before the star of the show decides to turn up.

Clad in simple T-shirt, jeans, and a “bling” around his neck, Lee Hom appeared rather humble for a star of his stature. His simple gestures like squatting down or pointing towards the audience electrified the Kuching crowd, and they loved every moment of it.

Check out that bling he’s wearing

Lee Hom described the style of his latest album as ‘chinked out’. No, not “Chink Out” – it’s not a racial slur demanding Chinese people to go away. According to Lee Hom himself it’s a new genre of music he created, mixing American hip-hop with traditional Chinese opera.
I guess the result is what happens if 50 Cents is born a Chinese.

I’m not a die-hard fan of Lee Hom so I haven’t actually listened to his album before I came to this show. After watching him perform live, I must admit that I find his new style of music is unique, though not necessarily entertaining.

In all honesty, the whole “Hey yo, this is Lee Hom yo!” schtick is a lil annoying. His American accent doesn’t work too well with Chinese rap either.
Of course lah, the crowd still sap it all up because y’know, he’s like, Lee Hom yo. So check out mah dawg, fo shizzle 4 life.

Lee Hom did four songs before retiring backstage. He came out again to sign autographs for his latest album.
I didn’t stay back because man, with so much sweat and other bodily fluids exchanging you don’t know what you might get when you come out of the building. Sometimes I wonder why we subject ourselves to that kinda torture just to watch a star perform for less than 25 minutes on stage.

All in all, a great night out if it weren’t for the craziness of the Kuching crowd.

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Queen Lizzie

You know how Australians like to shorten long words by taking the first syllable, and then appending an ‘-ie’ or ‘-y’ to it? It’s like ‘Australian’ becomes ‘Aussie’, ‘television’ becomes ‘telly’, ‘mosquito’ becomes ‘mozzie’.

So I was listening to a Melbourne radio covering the opening ceremony of the Commonwealth Games, and when the announcers were talking about the Queen, they shortened her name and referred to her as Lizzie.
Now, to me calling that’s just not on.

I mean, the Queen isn’t exactly your feisty teenage cousin. She’s Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth II! You don’t just call the Queen ‘Lizzie’, because that would be like referring to the Yang di-Pertuan Agong Tuanku Syed Sirajuddin ibni Almarhum Tuanku Syed Putra Jamalullail as ‘The Gong-meister’.
That’s what first came to mind.
The second thing that came to my mind when the announces call her ‘Lizzie’ was “Huh? Lizzie McGuire is at the opening ceremony meh?”


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How Not To Play Golf

Get the background and history of golf equipment here. This is a great site on famous players over the years and the history of golf. You can also discover the differences of golf equipment that many probably do not even know. This site offers lots of interesting facts on golf you can surprise your friends with. If you enjoy playing outside, then check out great information on
sports caps and hats at cheap prices.

I’ve decided to pick up yet again, another sport. This time I’m playing golf.

Like most people, I don’t get this whole golf thing. I don’t get golf like I don’t get ballroom dancing as an Olympic sport or people playing 5-day-long cricket.
What’s so fun about hitting a small little ball once, spending the next ten minutes trying to look for your ball and then hitting it again? I don’t get it.
It’s unexciting. It’s boring. It’s so boring I’m afraid I might fall asleep on the golf course until I wake up the next day with birds nibbling on my head.

But I decided to pick up golfing because golf is the unofficial game of the business world. Jokes about big men playing with small balls aside, the networking and social opportunities one can make on the golf course is quite invaluable.

Business moguls like Donald Trump and big shot politicians like George Chan all play golf. Considering the career path I’m taking, I figured it’s probably better to learn the game sooner rather than later.

See I’ve been hanging out a lot with older guys lately. These guys are so passionate about golf, they virtually eat, breathe, shit golf balls.
And the guys have succesfully coaxed me into trying out the sport. One of them was even generous enough to give me his spare golf set to try out. Thanks!

There’s only one problem.
I know absolutely NOTHING about golf. My experience using a golf club doesn’t extend anything beyond hitting people with it in GTA: San Andreas.

This is how I play golf

It’s gonna be very weird to use a golf club to hit a ball for a change.

So one day I drove down to the driving range at 2.5 mile for some swinging action. A tray of golf balls cost RM6.50 and it’s good for people like me to fire some practice shots before hitting the golf course for the real thing.
I did everything my golf-expert friends told me to: feet apart, shoulders relaxed, knees bent, eyes focused on the ball.

I raised my golf club, and with all the might in my body, gave the biggest swing of my life. WHAM! I struck the golf ball, and it flew through the air disappearing into the horizon. Magic.
Or at least that’s what I hoped would happen.
Reality is, I missed the ball by a foot and ended up looking like a monkey trying scratch its back. It’s not a pretty sight.
Man, this golf thing is harder than I thought. Definitely not as easy as it seems on TV.

After what seems like an eternity of struggle, I finally realised where I went wrong. The other players in the driving range all had a golf tee to help prop up the ball, whereas I was just hitting it from the ground.

That’s why I kept hitting everything else but the ball!
So I bought a cheap rubber tee from the shop, propped up the ball and started all over again.

Feet apart, shoulders relaxed, knees bent, eyes focused on the ball. Focus, Kenny. Took a deep breath, swing and WHAM!
The ball is there, but the tee is no where to be seen.

I hit the golf tee away instead. KNNCCB!

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Privacy? What Privacy?

Say one fine day, you picked up an absent-minded idiot’s lost identity card. What would you do with it?
A) Report it to the police.
B) Mail the lost IC to the address shown on the identity card.
C) Bring it to your local newspaper. Then allow them scan the IC and publish it state-wide full and uncensored.

One would think either A or B would be the sensible options. But yesterday’s Borneo Post decided to choose a different path and select C. The newspaper requesting Miss Yee to come forward and collect her card while publishing her IC in it’s full naked glory.
And now, the whole of Sarawak knows Yee Fong Niang’s IC number and exactly where she stays. Be afraid Miss Yee, be very afraid.

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