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. 🙂

Anyway, to prepare for my trip to Sibu I googled ‘Sibu Sarawak’, and out came the official Sibu website at www.sibu.com.my.

Don’t ask me why its sibu.com.my and not sibu.gov.my.

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.

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!

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.

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. 🙂

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!

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. 🙂

The earthquake off the coast of Sumatra midnight this morning is a tragedy, no doubt about it. But as they always say, every cloud has a silver lining. Disasters like earthquakes and tsunamis are often unpredictable. However, the events that followed such disasters are very very certain.
Here are the list of things to look forward to in the aftermath of the Asian Quake crisis.

5. Disaster = Charity Concerts!

Guys, I really really really wish I could say that I photoshopped this picture. I’m sorry to say that this photo 100% real – its official, THEY’RE GAYS!

The Backstreet Boys will be coming back to Malaysia to hold another ‘Force of Nature’ charity concert. Maybe this time we can all sing “Backstreets back, ALRIGHT!”
Halfway through Nick Carter will be probably speak in a touchy-feely voice saying “The biggest force of nature is the human spirit. *sniff*” Then AJ will be like “Will somebody PLEEASSEEE think of the children?” Then the five of them would be all crying and hugging and kissing and groping each other on stage, asking everyone to donate money for relief efforts, whilst they go backstage to provide some hand relief efforts for themselves.
As usual all the Datuks and Datins will have the best seats of the evening.

4. Disaster = People Blaming People for Everything!

Let the finger-pointing begin!
Hyper-religious idiots will be screaming “This is God’s revenge to all these Muslims!” Or in Audrey’s case, people saying to her “[You] should convert to Christianity now so if anything happens, [you] can go to Heaven.” Poor nations will be complaining that rich nations are stingy with their efforts. Rich nations will be contemplating whether to donate or spend another $30 billion bombing iRaq. Meanwhile, concerned/brain-dead citizens will blaming their government “OI!!! How come you din tell us earlier that there’s going to be an earthquake ar? ITS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!”

3. Disaster = Major Festivities Postponed or Cancelled!

Remember how last year’s New Year’s Eve celebrations were toned down or cancelled in the wake up the tsunami disaster? Sorry to all the jokers out there, but April Fool’s this year is postponed.

What? You think we all still have the mood to play jokes on people ah? Shame on you! Why don’t you spend your time helping out with the relief efforts instead?

2. Disaster = Opportunity for Political Publicity!

Forget about reading the local Malaysian newspaper. I can describe the front page headlines for the next 7 days. Visualize this: Overblown pictures of political big-wigs hitting some gong or cutting some cake on some so-very-important ceremony. The big bold headlines would scream something like “Politician says ‘DONATE MONEY FOR QUAKE RELIEF EFFORTS!'”

1. Di$a$ter = “Buy thi$ and We’ll donate 5 cent$!”

Businesses will be taking advantage of this disaster to lunch, sorry… launch their late$t $ale$ promotion. They’ll entice you to buy their latest product whilst claiming that a portion of their money will go towards some big-ass charity. If you don’t buy their products then you must be a heartless person. Shame on you. People dying everywhere and you aren’t even helping those big companies to donate towards relief efforts!

Ahhhh…. I reckon its going to be oh-so-routine.
Of course, I’m not slamming them. After all, all these go towards a good cause.
But you know what? We don’t need big-ass charity concerts, big-nut politicians and big businesses telling us to donate money. We are not animals. We are humans, we have feelings and our need to help others should just come naturally from our hearts.
Guys, you don’t need me to tell you to donate money. Just give what you can give.

Meanwhile, here’s a picture of me doing my own relief effort. 😉

I noticed that Singaporean girls are notoriously quick to follow the latest fashion trends.
The last time I was in Singapore was two years ago. Back then, the look of the season was that perfectly straight rebonded hair. I’m not surprised why that hairstyle is so popular since I know a lot of girls who wanted that perfect straight hair seen only on Taiwanese celebrities and Pantene commercials. Rebonded hair could instantaneously transform an otherwise bland and ordinary girl off the streets into a sizzling hot sexy babe like Jolin.

Pay RM300 to rebond your hair and look like Jolin!

When I was in Singapore that time, I remembered sitting alone in the Jurong East MRT interchange.
Picture this scene.
A train arrived. Doors opened. Out came a Jolin Tsai lookalike with her long straight hair gracefully flowing in the wind. I looked at her. Everything turned into slow-motion. She smiled. My heart skipped a bit. My eyes fixated on her beauty. My drool dripping on the magazine I was reading.
Just as she walked past me, another Jolin lookalike walked out. And another one. And another one. Then another one. They look like angels. All with rebonded hair.

Suddenly Jurong East transformed into Heaven.

Anyway, the trend has since died down a bit. I think the girls all got sick of looking alike, so at least now there’s a wider variety of hairstyles among the Singaporean girls. But just as one trend dies down, another new trend has hit those ever-so-fashion-conscious Singaporean girls.
This time round, its all about the mini skirts!
No, not those long ugly ones your high school teacher used to wear. I’m talking about those teeny-weeny itsy-bitsy super ultra-short skirts.
The ones that if you bend over, you will inadvertently broadcast the colour of your underwear and the beginnings (or was that the ‘ends’) of your ass to the entire world via CNN.

The white arrows point to examples of the kind of ultra short mini skirt I’m talking about.

I don’t know why, but when these short-skirt wearing girls stand in front of me, it certainly made those trips up the escalators a lot more interesting.

This is an escalator. Now imagine a girl with a very short skirt in front of you riding to the top of the escalator. What do you think you’ll see?

But hey! I’m not a horny bastard ok? I’m not the kind who stalk and prey on innocent young girls. See, when these girls choose to flaunt their ASS-ets and display the colour of their G-strings to me, its hard. Its really hard.
Hard as in… difficult. Not hard as in… penis… hard. No misunderstanding? Good.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Walking along Orchard Road, I can’t help but noticed that the lasses in Singapore have adopted a much liberal sense of dressing compared to our Malaysian counterparts. Maybe its the hot and humid Singapore weather, but there’s a galore of bared mid-riffs, cute spaghettis and short skirts on their 40kg frame. Sometimes I wonder what kinda water Singaporean girls drink to stay so slim. Maybe its the NEWater their government has been promoting.

Wanna know how Singaporean girls managed to stay so slim?

Another thing I noticed is the number of lesbians openly showing their affection along Orchard Road. More lesbians than gays apprently. So, Lainie was right. There are plenty of gays and lesbians in Singapore, definitely a lot more compared to before.
Then, it hit me. If a large number of Singaporean women are lesbians, and those that are not lesbians are angmoh-loving SPGs, wouldn’t there be a distinct lack of Singaporean-men-loving straight women?

“Really ah? Ya hor?”

I mean… think about it! Most Singaporean men right out of army are suave, well built, well educated and have a good sense of humour. These are good quality men! Even if MOST of them hooked up with Singaporean girls, there are STILL going to be a lot of single Singaporean men left out there because the rest of the Singaporean girls are either (A) lesbian or (B) prefer white bread.
Gee, I wonder where can these poor Singaporean men can find their girlfriends then. Malaysia?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When my parents and I were in Singapore, I was always the one to get them food since my father isn’t very mobile and my mother has to stay by his side. I was lucky since Far East Plaza is just across the road from the hotel I was staying. Two years ago, Far East Plaza remind me very much of Kuching’s Hopoh or KL’s Sungai Wang, in that they sell mostly budget items and the closest thing they have to designer brands are imitated ones.
This time round I noticed a lot more creative, youthful and funky shops popping up. I like it how the young proprietors get so creative in the design of their shop and the display of their products.
One of the more interesting shop is InQBox, which looks more like an art gallery than a clothing/accessories shop. I went in there and one T-shirt immediately caught my eye.

The ‘Blind’ T-shirt, featuring the embossed print for the word ‘Blind’ in Braille.

What’s so special about this T-shirt you say? Well, I dunno. For a start, its LocalBrand.

And they seem to have a promotion going on.

That is the reason why I bought the T-shirt.
Oh shit, what have I done?
Yes, I got the 20% discount.
I am ashamed.
I know.
Shut up.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
‘Love’ is a funny thing.
Love can happen in the most unexpected places, under the most unexpected circumstance. A split second of contact can leave an impression that last for eternity.
They say love is blind.
They say there’s no such thing as love at first sight.
These people do not know love. They do not know fate.
But I know.
I KNOW!
I know, because I have experienced it.
We met in the most unlikely of places.
It was but a mere split second, but seeing her made me think twice about the relationship I’m in right now. It made me think twice about continuing this whole long distance thing.
Funny how such a brief moment of contact with someone you’ve never met before can change one’s life, and one’s perception on life.
Yet.
Deep down inside, I know what I want.
It was a difficult choice, almost an impossible one to make.
But I know, one thing for sure, is that – I – love – her.
Impossible as it may seem, but one day, she shall be mine.

It takes time.

But one day, she will be mine.
You just wait and see.

I’m so busy these days packing away all my stuff that even finding time to shit is a miracle. I admit this is gonna be a half-arsed entry.
By this weekend, someone will be coming over to take away my computer monitor. That doesn’t mean I won’t be able to blog. I can still blog, just that I won’t be able to see what I’m typing. So teh wrods mgiht npt comw out clrrektly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The divine Miss P

I think by now most of you would have heard of the news about the heiress to the Hilton Hotel fortune, the divine Miss Paris Hilton, who had her online mobile phone book hacked. For those not familiar with Paris Hilton, let’s just say that’s she’s more well known for her wild party antics, lack of general common sense, and her infamous sex video. The contents of her phone book and other stuff like notes and camera pictures are published on hiltonhacked.com. Among the list of about 500 contacts are phone numbers and email addresses of prominent celebrities, such as Eminem, Limp Bizkit frontman Fred Durst, Jay-Z, Avril Lavigne, Ashley Olsen, Ashlee Simpson, etc.
Ashlee Simpson?! I don’t know what those two airheads can talk about. Imagine Paris sms-ing Ashlee (1-310-254-7114).

Paris and Ashlee. Airhead vs airhead.

Paris: hey what’s up?
Ashlee: not much… what’s up?
Paris: errr… nothing major… i’m just hanging… what’s up?
Ashlee: dunno… well you messaged me first, so… what’s up?
Paris: just… partying… ummm, what’s up?

Fascinating stuff.
Eminem is another odd person to be on Paris Hilton’s phone book. One is always so disturbed and angry, and the other one laughs for no reason. What would Paris Hilton and Eminem (1-917-776-7643) talk about?

Paris and Eminem. What can they talk about seriously?

Paris: hey what’s up?
Eminem: Alright. Now lose it.
Paris: AH-AH-AH-AH-AH
Eminem: Just lose it.
Paris: AH-AH-AH-AH-AH
Eminem: Go crazy.
Paris: AH-AH-AH-AH-AH
Eminem: Oh baby.
Paris: AH-AH
Eminem: Oh baby baby.
Paris: AH-AH

To her credit, Paris Hilton has the number for Feed the Children (235-933-98001) stored on her mobile phone. Tell me seriously, how many people have phone numbers of charities stored on their mobile phone? Do you? Of course not! Because NO ONE STORES PHONE NUMBERS OF CHARITIES ON THEIR MOBILE PHONES!
Its as if she’s the kind of person that would feel sorry for the children in Africa all of the sudden. So much so that she would ring up Feed the Children and say “Hey! Let’s give those children from Ethiopia the penthouse suite of the Hilton Hotel in Las Vegas!”
Maybe Paris Hilton isn’t donating to Feed the Children at all. Do you see how sicky and skinny Paris Hilton is? And then it struck me. Maybe Feed the Children is giving food to Miss Paris Hilton instead!!! THAT’S IT!!! Remember, you hear it first on kennysia.com. 😉

Feed the Children and Paris Hilton

(Feed the Children is a legitimate charity btw. So if you haven’t given enough, give more. Because some people need it more than we do.)
There are even two doctors on the list, Dr Pat and a Dr Randy Harris. Frankly speaking, I reckon the name “Randy Harris” sounded more like a porn star’s name than a doctor’s name. Could Paris Hilton be wanting to expanding her video library? Would we ever see One Night In Harris? Only time will tell.
Its as interesting to note who is on the phone book as it is to note who is notOne Night in Paris co-star Rick Salomon?
There’s Australian mobile phone numbers of herself and tennis *cough*star*cough* Mark ‘The Poo’ Phillippoussis. I did try calling both numbers, and not surprisingly their accounts are already cancelled. Someone called DJ Am, who happened to be Nicole Richie’s boyfriend. He answered the phone call with an annoying tone, “This is the FBI speaking…”
You know what, looking through all these is kinda fun! Its a bit like looking into someone’s private life or reading someone’s blog (hey… what are you doing here?) Then again, I kinda felt sorry for Paris Hilton. After all, this is such a huge invasion of privacy and I’m sure she’s copping a lot of shit from her acquaintances.
Then I remembered how much I hated her, and miraculously, my guilt suddenly fades away. 🙂

Valentine’s Day is over, but guess what? I’ve decided to continue with the lovey-dovey theme on kennysia.com. Why? Because I enjoy making all my single friends feel like losers, that’s why! *cough*Kim*cough* HAHAHA!
Just kidding of course. Mannnn… I’m mean. Though I shouldn’t really laugh since my valentine is not here with me. Btw, did anyone notice that there seems to be a lot of bloggers out there who openly declared that they are anti-Valentine’s Day?
So, yesterday’s edition of the local newspaper published a special liftout called The Book of Love. Basically its a compilation of lovey-dovey messages that couples leave for each other on Valentine’s Day. A careful read through the book of love revealed…
Messages from couples who enjoyed (endured?) everlasting love.


Couples who didn’t have it easy.


Couples with a good sense of humour.

Proof that Valentine’s need not just be a celebration of love between couples.


And last but not least, couples with questionable pet names.



Speaking of pet names, I’ve always been fascinated by the pet names couples give each other.
“Darling, honey, baby”… some of the pet names can be quite unoriginal, so its up to the couples themselves to personalize it somehow. I thought it was cute that Izuan became IzzyWizzy in front of his girlfriend.
Nicole and I had our fair share of pet names for each other. Even before we got together, I had called her sweetie and she had called me darling. She thought darling was a bit too common and unoriginal, so she started calling me dahwink and later wink wink.

Similarly, I started calling her baby because I thought its more endearing. She liked it and so it stuck. But baby is too common, so I changed the one of the “B” to a “J” an started calling her baji, which sounded like vegie, so sometimes I’d call her Baji-table. Once, I called her Ang Ku Kueh (a red sticky Chinese cake). Later, she came to Perth and befriended Huey Ying, who at the time was studying Spanish. She found it cute that ‘pretty baby’ in Spanish is bebé bonito. So I had to start calling her Bonito
Nicole likes dogs. One day she said she wanted to have a dog, so I said to her “I can be your dog loh!”. And just like that, she started calling me Dog Dog, Doggie and later Woggie.

Our inspiration for new nicknames can come from the weirdest sources. Once we were shopping for clothes for my baby nephew Jayden. She found some from the brand Elle, which I thought was a bit girlish for Jayden. “No,” she said “This one is Elle Poupon, which means its for boys. The girls’ ones are called Elle Petite.” And just like that, I started calling her Petite and she started calling me Poupon. Once after watching Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events (great show btw), she started calling herself Sunny, after the baby girl in the movie.
Our friend Candice who had a dog called Bailey. Bailey has this toy ball that Candice would hide and ask him to find. “Toy Toy leh?” Candice would ask. So from then on, I started calling Nicole Toy Toy, which is what I call her until today.
My other friends have better things to call their partners though.
My dear friend Geraldine is famous for many things, one of which is the way she calls David. “HOOOOONNNNNNEEEYYYYYY!!!”, she would scream at the top of her lungs as the tiny hairs on my arm stand up. David has no idea why lovers call each other Honey. “Honey is something you put on your bread. Why not call your lover some other things that you put on your bread? Like ‘Butter’ or ‘Kaya’,…”




Lately, I’ve noticed yet another annoying trend.
Thanks to the song by Alicia Keys and Usher called “My Boo”, a lot, and I mean A LOT of couples are calling each other Boo. What the hell is a Boo? I have absolutely no idea. So I looked up Dictionary.com’s definition of the word Boo.

boo

1. n. A sound uttered to show contempt, scorn, or disapproval.
2. interj. Used to express contempt, scorn, or disapproval or to frighten or surprise another.
3. n. Slang Marijuana

Heh. Marijuana? Now I know why they call each other boo. Yes yes… I know boo is also a gangsta slang for boyfriend/girlfriend, but honestly, don’t you think it sounds more like poo than a term of endearment?! Mannnn it gets on my nerves I tell you!
Then again, I shouldn’t really complain. After all my pet name is Woggie.

How about you? What pet names do you give your partner (or your ex-partner)? What are the funniest/wierdest/most memorable pet names you’ve heard couples call each other? Feel free to share, and of course, anonymity is allowed. 🙂

Recently, I offended a blogger. Judging by the depressing mood of her entries, its obvious she’s going through a hard time after a breakup. I’ve never met this blogger. In fact, I don’t even know who she is. I was just concerned that she treated herself unhealthily to get through it. So, smart Kenny left a comment on one of entries. I wrote “Its just a break up. Its not the end of the world.”
She shut down her blog the next day.
Its not the first time I offended someone I barely even knew. I have this stupid habit of saying something too honest and too frank straight out of my mouth, most of the time without thinking. Then straight after I said it, I regreted immediately. I just wanted to curl myself up into a ball, lock myself away and throw away the key.

I’m interested to know if any of you have a similar experience. Have you or someone you know said something that you immediately regret the second after it came out of your mouth? Something that makes you want to swallow yourself up. If you have, comment, or blog an entry on it. 🙂 If not, gee… thanks for making me feel bad as I am already.

When I was 15, I used to work at a local supermarket. As it was the festive season, my working hours stretch from 8:30am to 12am. By midnight, I was exhausted. I saw a middle aged man walked into the store. He wanted to buy a bag of rice, but he couldn’t make up his mind which bag of rice to purchase. So I watched him as he picked up a bag of rice, placed it on the electric scales, check the weight, put it back, picked up another bag of rice, and repeat the process. It was interesting watching him so determined to find the bag with the highest net weight. So I said to him jokingly, “Come on… there can’t be that much difference in the weight anyway.”
He calmly put that bag of rice back. Then he came up to me and he just exploded. “SO WHAT? WHAT’S WRONG WITH WHAT I’M DOING? I’M JUST MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS!” And with that, he stormed out of the store whilst I was standing there red-faced. I felt like shit for the rest of the week.
Then there’s another incident when I was 16. I was invited by Jasmine, a friend of Wendy to attend her birthday party. I have heard a lot about Wendy’s group of friends, so I was quite eager to meet them all, especially a guy called Michael who happened to be the birthday girl’s crush at the time. So there we were, 15-20 of us sitting around in a circle introducing ourselves, and I asked which one is Michael. Apart from me, there were only two other guys at the party. One was slouching on the sofa, hands in pocket and a cap over his head. The other had a shaved head, skinny physique and squatting on the floor in a gorilla-like pose. I pointed to the latter and asked “Is he Michael?”. Michael smiled, and the birthday girl said “Not bad…. you’re correct, but how did you guess?”. Without thinking I replied jokingly, “Well that was easy. Michael sounded like ‘Monkey’, and he looked like a monkey so I guessed it must be him.”

There was silence for 5 seconds, but it felt like a week to me. I immediately knew I said something wrong and I just wanted to swallow myself up and vanish from the face of the Earth. Obviously Michael wasn’t happy, the birthday girl wasn’t happy, and I felt like an outcast for the rest of the evening. We met a week later for dimsum and Michael still wasn’t talking to me. I felt like crap.
Since then I tried to watch my speech. Sometimes I just can’t help myself. I wanted to joke around sometimes, but people take me a bit too seriously and I ended up offending people I barely knew.
So if anyone of you are reading this, especially Michelle, please accept my apologies. My brain went on vacation sometimes and my mouth started to act on its own. I am sorry.