Category: Thoughts & Musings

These Boots Are Made For Walking

While in Perth, I discovered some pretty funky new tunes playing on Australian airwaves never heard before on Malaysian radio.

The guy on the right looks strangely like a younger version of Peter Tan.

One of them is The Black Eyed Peas’ crude but catchy little tune called “My Humps”. With creative lyrics like “My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump. My lovely lady lumps. In the back and in the front”, I doubt it’ll ever make it past the Malaysian censors, unfortunately.
It’s a nice song. But I still don’t understand how anyone would actually go through all the trouble writing a bloody song dedicated to their tits and ass.
Another song I THOUGHT will never make it past the Malaysian censors is Jessica Simpson’s “These Boots Are Made For Walking”, a track off the Dukes of Hazzard’s OST.

I don’t know about you, but the first time I heard that song, I thought Jessica Simpson was singing “These BOOBS Are Made For Walking”
Wah, so power! I know her boobs are fake lah, but I sure as hell didn’t know they’re MADE FOR WALKING!

Sorry Jessica Simpson. Your boots are the last thing on my mind.

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Character Confusion

Am I the only one feeling this way?
I was watching Lord of the Rings: Return of the King on HBO when I realised how I cannot get used to Hugo Weaving as the elf lord Elrond.

I’d already gotten so used to Hugo Weaving playing Agent Smith in the Matrix trilogies that EVERYTIME I watch a movie with him in it, I’d automatically visualise his character in black suit and sunglasses.

But still, I like Agent Smith in the Matrix trilogies a lot more than I like Neo eventhough he’s the protagonist. There’s just something inexplicably cool about a guy in full-on business suit doing kung fu. You have to admit that his facial expression in the movie is simply priceless.
I had fun adding speech bubbles to his photos. Here’s some.

Agent Smith “comparing notes”.

Agent Smith rushing somewhere.

And my personal favourite…

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If Everyone Followed Advice On The Internet

Imagine waking up one day, and – BAM – just like that, the entire Earth’s population automagically started to follow the hundreds and thousands of advices dished out over the Internet each day. What would the world come to?
A wise one commented, “Accepting that interview shows that you did want the fame. If you didn’t, why did you accept it in the first place?”

Great Advice on the Internet #461: Thou shalt not accept newspaper interviews for fear of being called a fame whore.

Patriotism Misunderstood

(continued from last entry. I took a lot of time editting this entry before I publish it because I have to particularly careful with what I say and how I say it. The end result is not exactly what I wanted but I’ve copped enough shit already and I don’t need more.)

This post today is not about me joining in on some childish mudslinging match between Singapore and Malaysia. I was just inspired to write this entry after observing how my fellow Malaysians react when negative aspects about our own country are being highlighted.
I’m grateful that Malaysia is a peaceful nation and, when compared to the many war and famine strickened countries around the world, we should really feel happy with what we got. There’s been all these talk about racism in Malaysia, but I’m appreciative of the fact that I keep my Chinese last name, practise our own religion and celebrate Chinese New Year. In addition, I think Badawi is doing a fantastic job so far (not being sarcastic here) though I’m afraid I cannot say the same things for our other leaders in the parliament.
That said, Malaysia is not perfect. I acknowledge the fact that Malaysia is a developing nation, and that it still has a long way to go before it realises Vision 2020 (if ever) and becomes on par with the first world countries.
There are a lot of things not right about our country. ‘Efficient’ government departments, ‘zero’ corruption, ‘excellent’ public transport system, ‘fair’ tertiary education scholarship criteria, ‘not enough’ race-based political parties and so on, being the few of them. And the feeling I got is that majority of Malaysians, the younger ones in particular, either don’t care about it, don’t know about it, or worse, don’t want to hear people talking about it.

When F (note I said F, not X. They’re two totally different people) wrote a list of Malaysia’s flaws on her blog in an entry titled ‘Negaraku’, I’m surprised she got flakked for it eventhough a lot of what she said is true.
Maybe its to do with the fact that she’s a Malaysian living abroad. Maybe its the way she used another country as an example of “how things are done right”. But among other things, she was called ignorant, superficial, even a traitor for dissing her own country. Someone made an interesting comment on her blog saying Malaysia’s biggest flaw is not teaching its citizens to accept it for its flaws.
Wait a minute, Why should we accept the flaws of this country? Are we saying that we should accept handbag-snatchers, dirty streets and crazy-ass traffic officers seeking a contribution to their retirement fund as the norm? Of course not.
I’m just disappointed that there are people I know who’s saying we should all just shut the fook up and quietly eat all the crap being thrown at us JUST because that’s what we grew up with and that’s the way things work around here. I mean, if I were to follow THAT advice during my fiasco with the Malaysian Customs, I’m probably never ever gonna get my money back.
No, I will not let you screw me in the ass just because that’s the way things work around here. If you’re being unfairly treated because of some stupid policy, stand up and speak up for yourself. Challenge the authority.
What everyone ought to remember is that love for the country is very different from love for the government. A lot of shits we had to put up with are the direct result of both the government’s lack of planning/lack of foresight/lack of common sense and some uncivilised citizens. Keeping our cities clean is everyone’s responsibilities, but how many people actually follow that principle?

We should ALWAYS love our country because patriotism is a virtue. We should ALWAYS be proud of the Malaysian flag because it is our identity. But we should NEVER EVER accept snatch thefts as the norm. We should NEVER condone corruption as part of the Malaysian culture. And above all else, we should NEVER stop challenging the government to work for its people. Each of us citizens have a part to play to make Malaysia a better place. One of the ways we can help is by talking, or as some people put it, ‘complaining’ about the issues.
There’s nothing wrong when other countries are being used for comparison. I’m not saying those who’ve been overseas are holier art thou. Hey, we all learn from other people’s successes and failures – that’s why we study history, that’s how we grow. Don’t be too fast to shoot down someone, especially a fellow Malaysian, and accuse them of dissing our own country just because another country’s name was mentioned. More often than not, it’s after staying overseas and observing the ways things are being done elsewhere that we realise how things could be better done with our own country.
Of course, one has to be reasonable when it comes to this.
I’m not gonna compare Malaysia’s hot, humid and rainy climate to Australia’s clean fresh air across four seasons because we are not Gods and we cannot change the weather. I’m not gonna bitch about how, in an effort to boost birthrate, the Australian government gives AUD3,000 (that’s RM8,500) to the parents for each baby born (it’s true), whereas the Malaysian government gives you nothing more than a pat on the back and a “Well done!” because I know its silly to compare Malaysia’s cash reserves to that of a first world nation.

However, I’m gonna bitch about how in Malaysia ‘courtesy’ was an alien word to people working at the cashier counters before Starbucks came along and taught us how to smile and say ‘Hi’ to our customers, and not just stare and follow them everywhere when a customer walked into their shop like how some shopkeepers do because they’re afraid you’re gonna steal their stuff. I’m going to bitch about how in some countries, people study overseas because their results are too poor to get a scholarship into local universities; whereas in Malaysia, people study overseas because their results are too good to get a scholarship into local universities.
There’s a limit though. I’m all for weeding out the negative aspects of our country but not at the expense of losing our Malaysian culture and identity. I mean, if the VCD seller at Petaling Street starts speaking to me in perfect English I’m probably gonna slap him.

I’m an optimist and I think, with the exception of a sad few, that most Malaysians love their country, including F. Home is where the heart is and so far I haven’t yet met any Malaysians who is so ashamed of our own country they had to introduce themselves as Mongolians.
I think Malaysians in general just don’t like to hear criticisms about their own country. Everytime we hear someone mentioning something remotely negative about our country we automatically go into defensive mode and attack the person making those comments. Frankly, I think that kind of attitude is sad. If that’s our idea of patriotism, then I think we’re pretty much screwed.
So all I’m saying is this, people: Be proud of Malaysia and love your country. Just don’t love it blindly.

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Malaysia’s National Service Program

I read with interest Jolene‘s account of her life at the Malaysian National Service (NS) training camp. Believe it or not, growing record-breaking armpit hair, camp trainers chasing away ‘evil spirits’, kissing your used sanitary pads as a form of punishment (wtf?) – its all part and parcel of being an NS trainee.

Our very own Jolene Lai, proudly serving the nation as a blue zebra.

When I first heard that Malaysia is about to implement the NS regime, I was very supportive of it. I believe that so long as it’s for a just cause, improving our national security and instilling patriotism in our youths is always a good thing.
I wouldn’t mind being part of the NS program myself because I heard girls think men in uniforms are sexy and I wanted to wear one. I’ve had plenty of friends from Singapore and Taiwan who ranted and raved about what a life-changing experience NS was for them and how they came out in the end a better person.
For many, NS is a rite of passage where the clueless becomes disciplined, the weak becomes strong, the boys become men.

The difference is in the balls.

Unfortunately, as more details emerge, I started to grow skepticism.
For one, the program is only going to benefit 20% of the country’s 17-year-olds (money not enough). Then I learnt that duration of the NS is not 2 years, not even 1 year, but just 3 months (money not enough). THREE PATHETIC MONTHS! Many people have said it – three months ain’t National Service to train boys into men. Three months is summer camp for kids.
How the heck are you going to instill patriotism in just 3 months? These things don’t just grow on trees overnight. Patriotism is something that require the victims to be subjected to lies and deception and propaganda over a long long period of time one, you know?
I reckon the only way they’re able to effectively instill patriotism in the minds of our youths is by using some bizzare mind-control technique.

What really went on behind-the-scenes during NS.

Jolene wrote about having to attend racial integration classes. Its fun and nice and all, but in a way, its also quite sad to see that the country has to resort to programs like these to promote racial harmony among the Chinese, Indians and Malays. I’m no expert, but I do know that forcing cross-cultural interaction in a formal classroom-like environment is about as effective as forcing a chicken and a duck to talk about the latest EPL soccer news.

Its only gonna work during supervised sessions. As soon as that’s over, the Chinese is gonna stick with their Chinese friends and likewise for the other major races. Most of them anyway. For many, a comfortable common language is still a barrier for interaction to take place.
But hey, at least they’re trying.
The biggest joke of all is that the Malaysian National Service isn’t providing any military training at all. Heck, the trainees aren’t even given the chance to handle weapons! All that pretty army uniforms and they don’t even get to hold a gun. What the hell, right? I wonder why the Ministry of Defence is running the program ‘cos all these “racial integration” and “character building” exercises seem more like the Education Ministry’s job.
There are military drills. Its just that at most, the trainees are taught to climb ropes, do monkey bars, and run. But geez, what are these kids gonna do if Malaysia came under attack? Throw sticks at them?

Yes, I feel very safe.

(Just in case there’s any government people reading this who thinks I’m criticising Malaysia’s NS program, I’m not lah ok? I think Malaysia is good, and I agree Badawi is the best thing since Elvis. Yeah, baby.)

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Longer Than One Singapore Minute

As part of his contribution to the Singaporean National Day, patriotic mr brown started this meme called “One Singapore Minute”.
He’s asking his fellow countrymen to take a series of photos within a minute to show what their country means to them. All the photos are then collected and displayed here.
Since our National Day is also just around the corner, I wanted to start a “One Malaysian Minute” meme too. But thanks to the haze, I think all the photos from our KL bloggers are gonna turn like this.

Regardless, I contributed towards the “One Singapore Minute” meme. I know I’m not Singaporean and all that lah. Then again, Singapore’s LianHeZaoBao newspaper also said I’m Singaporean liaw, so I think I must be one.

From zbNow (LianHeZaoBao), 4th July 2005.

Here’s my photo set, taken at the New Asia Bar on the 70th floor of the Swissotel Stamford from my last trip to the city state. I have to confess – these shots were not taken under one minute. It should have been that way, but that tulan bartender took ten bloody minutes just to get my drink ready. My One Singapore Minute became my Ten Delayed Minutes.
kennysia's OSM #1
kennysia's OSM #2
kennysia's OSM #3
kennysia's OSM #4
Singapore Sling on top of Singapore City itself. Doesn’t get any more Singaporean than that. 🙂
Speaking of the lion city, what’s with almost every Singaporean I know heading over to Kuala Lumpur these few days? Why go KL? Got haze lah, go KL do shit? Come to Kuching lah.

The haze situation in KL is getting so bad even the garblement is declaring a state of emergency. The problem is, other than closing down all their offices, nobody seems to know what else to do under a state of emergency. The only thing the people there were told to do is this.
Everyone is waiting for the thick white smoke blanketing the nation’s capital to clear up and disappear. So the garblement and residents in KL are all praying for a miracle, praying for the wind, praying for the heavy rain to fall…

KANINA IT RAINED ICE INSTEAD! They must have prayed a little too hard liaw. Poor bastards.
Times like these, it feels so darn good to live in Kuching.

Blue skies, fresh air. Ahhh… bliss. 🙂

Finish Your Food

When I was younger, maybe about 4-5 years old, my superstitious grandmother had a hard time trying to get me to finish my food. She’d use all sorts of excuses trying to convince me to swallow every single leftover dish there is on the table.
Grandma: “Quick, finish your food. Don’t you know? Having leftover rice on your plate means next time your wife’s face will have lots of pimples.”
Kenny: “Really?”
Grandma: “Ya. If you leave one grain of rice, she’ll have one pimple. If you leave three grains of rice, she’ll have three pimples.”
Kenny: “Then if I don’t finish the whole plate of rice, her head would become like brocolli is it?”

Come to think of it, I’ve encountered a lot of these dinner-time Chinese superstitions.

– Do not leave the dinner table and wander around doing other things, else you’ll grow up to have a bad attention span.
– Do not stab chopsticks on your bowl of rice as if they’re joss sticks.
– Do not kneel whilst having dinner. I see kids sometimes doing this when they’re eating on the coffee table in front of the TV. To their elders, it means their kids are worshipping the TV, which unfortunately is quite true.
– Do not tap your plate deliberately with your utensils.
– Do not shake your legs while having dinner. It means all your good fortune will be shaken away.

I’m guilty of the last one. I’m born with legs are shaky like a polaroid picture. It’s very bad habit I’m still trying to shake off (no pun intended).
Anyway, I reckon I have pretty good fortune so that superstition must obviously be false. I never believe those superstitious bullshit. If my grandmother were to tell me that shaking your legs would make your legs go hairy, maybe I’d actually listen to her.

My mother is not as superstitious. She has her own way trying to get me to finish my food – by making me feel guilty.
“Finish your food, Kenny. Think of all the malnutritioned children in Bosnia / Nigeria / Ethiopia / [insert name of random poor African nation] who are starving right now if you don’t eat.”
It works everytime. My stomach may be exploding, but I’d still be forcing that last piece of chicken down my throat because dammit, I’m privileged to swallow that piece of chicken, OKAY?!
That probably explains why I’m such a chubby little boy today.
Its only when I grow older that I noticed what a flawed argument my mother had.
Look. Whether I eat that last piece of chicken or let it go to waste, what the hell does it have ANYTHING to do with starving kids in Africa? Why do they even come into the equation? Even if I don’t finish my food, its not like KFC is gonna ship that piece of unfinished chicken all the way to Africa, right?
If you’re already full, stop eating. Why suffer? Don’t feel too guilty about letting half-eaten food go to waste, because anything you swallow after the point of satiation is likely to be stored as fat anyway. (This principle does not apply to anorexic and underweight people btw.)
Which one would make you feel more guilty? Half-eaten food going to waste because you’re full, or an extra inch on your waist because you’re eating more calories than you need? Go to waste, or go to waist?

You think this is a normal RC car. You are so wrong.

If I really want to help those kids, I’d contribute to charity. Join, donate to DoctorsWithoutBorders or something, which I did, and you should.
Why the heck should I let those malnutritioned kids come between me, my chicken, and my path to weight loss?

Its a malnutritioned car!

My mother’s strategy certainly worked on me. Instead of letting good food go the bin, I gorged. Even as my waistline expanded, I gluttonized myself as I ate whatever leftover food there is on the table because dammit… THOSE KIDS IN AFRICA ARE SUFFERING!
Absurdity to the max plus one, I tell you.
There you go. Another myth adults tell children debunked, thanks very much to 🙂

Public Apology

Today was such a bad day. Its not just the car accident, its not just the Siarong incident, but many issues happened at the same time and collectively they took their toll on me.
I wanted to move on and write something new, but there are some things bothering me these past few days and I want to get them off my chest.
I have rubbed many people off the wrong way, and I wish to make my apologies.
Firstly, to my real life friends.
I apologise to IC, for snatching your blades away from you, alerting your parents and then sending you to the hospital when you overdosed on sleeping pills last night after a bad fight with your bf. I honestly feared that you were going to foolishly end your life last night. I’m glad you’re ok now.
I apologise to IC’s bf for my interference. I know she looks up to me but she’s really just a platonic friend of mine. I’m as concerned for her as you are. Please don’t take it the wrong way thinking that I have something against you. Its not true. I respect you.

I apologise to you, MN for keeping my mouth shut about your ex bf. When it happened I didn’t think too much of it. I didn’t tell you because I myself think it was a very small issue and I knew you’re going to make a big fuss out of it. I didn’t keep you in the loop for your own good. Despite its bumpy journey, I was adamant that your relationship was still gonna work out in the end. I’m sorry that it didn’t.
Now, onto the online saga.

I apologise to all my readers who were offended and lost their confidence and respect in me after viewing that particular entry.
I apologise to the non-existent ‘kids’ who were in attendance at the after party. You must have sneaked past the bouncer into an over-18-only dance club with your invisible cloak – the same one Harry Potter used to sneak into the Chamber of Secrets. And I didn’t see you hiding there in the corner. Sorry.
I apologise to those who commented on my relationship as if they knew me. I’m sorry, but who are you?

There are things in my private life I don’t write online: my family, my work, my girlfriend. But just this once I’ll write about my girlfriend.
My girlfriend has seen the picture. I showed it to her. She didn’t think too much about it.
My girlfriend likes Sarong Party Girl. She admits she’s a fan of hers. In fact, I think she reads Sarong Party Girl and Waiter Rant more than she reads Very sad.

My relationship with my girlfriend isn’t the same as it was compared to say, a year ago. At the moment I have no intentions to move back to Perth and she has no intentions to come live with me in Kuching. We are in a long-term long-distance relationship. I don’t know if we have a future together. Its bleak. We had a long talk about this and we both agreed to “leave it up to fate”. We used to be very possessive of each other, but its been so long we’re apart, our grip has loosen somewhat.
That’s partially the reason why my inhibitions were low when I was in Singapore. Still, when I posed for that photo I don’t think I did anything wrong because it was a spoof. I make NO apologies for that.
I apologise to my girlfriend for breaking my promise not to write anything about her, or about our relationship.

I apologise to Jeff, Mack, Brown, Caleb and especially Michael. I recklessly did something potentially damaging. But you guys were there to stop “the shit from hitting the fan”. I’m sorry. I learnt my lesson. I almost owe you my life. But I cannot do that, so I’ll just chia you coffee instead next time we meet. 🙂
I apologise to those who said I did what I did to attract hits. I’m sorry because you’re wrong.
There’s a lot of people who urged me to write for myself and not for others.
When I put up that post, I did exactly that – I wrote for myself. At the back of my mind, I know there will be moral crusaders who’s not gonna like it. I didn’t care, I still put it up. I wrote it because its a very unusual and out-of-the-ordinary situation that occured. Its not everyday a topless model wants to take a photo with me (I wish), so I think its blogworthy. So I wrote it for MYSELF.

One of my fave bloggers went to Melbourne’s Sexpo and took photos with a topless porn star. Another one put up photos of her friend getting his pubes trimmed, her female friend’s peeing by the roadside (bare bottom and all), and her other friend flashing half her ass to the camera. They were all very cheeky photos, and I thought they were bloody hilarious. NOBODY who commented on their page found them offensive at all.
I didn’t know I’d cause such a reaction because let’s face it – everyone seen hers, everyone seen mine, so what the heck, rite? BUT, I was wrong. The fact that she’s Sarong Party Girl, and the fact that I’m Kenny Fucking Sia changes things. There’s an unwritten rule that when you’re both bloggers with more than 6,000 visitors coming your site everyday, you’re not allowed to do the things we did, no matter how harmless it may seem.
I apologise for taking down that particular post. I’m not going to put it back up. I’ve caused enough trouble.

I apologise to Izzy. I wanted to drop you a mail one of these days to clarify things. The storm has been hard on me these past two days, but thanks for explaining the actual situation on your end. You are the innocent victim in my mistake. I agree, the people who were there found it funny. The humour somehow got lost in translation from life to blog.
I apologise to people who said that my blog isn’t as funny as it was before. You don’t need to tell me that. Even I myself find my own blog is getting boring lately. Then again, this is, not Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. You didn’t pay and expect me to entertain you. That’s not my job. My job is as an IT Manager, and my blog is just something extra. A hobby. I can stop blogging the next day and I won’t owe a single cent to you because I have absolutely no commitment to you at all.

I admit my blog isn’t as interesting as it was before. I admit I’m turning into a Kenny Sia that I don’t know. I wanted to go back to the way I was before, but I can’t. How do you expect me to go back to being funny when critics were firing disheartening attacks against me? At best, it’ll just make me come up with lame, very lame jokes. How can I be expected to make you laugh, when I’m not even laughing myself?
I didn’t change my blog. You did.
Times like these, I need your support. Not for you to kick me in the gut when I’m down on the floor.

When you write for your readers, people say you should write for yourself. When you write for yourself, people say you shouldn’t write this and that. We’re looking at Bloglitics in action here, people. (And to think I coined that word. Oh, the irony.)
I apologise to everyone who sent me encouragement e-mails / blog entries / cheery MSN messages. I’m sorry I can’t reply them all. Just wanted to let you know, you made my turmoil a little easier to get through. Thank you. People like you are golden.

I want to apologise to minishorts and XiaXue.
No, sorry.
I apologise to Claire Khoo and Wendy Cheng.
There’s a difference.
You wrote about your reaction to my entry. You think what I did was wrong, and you disapproved of it. You didn’t hold back with your criticisms. I read your comments about me, and they hurt. They hurt me lot more than what many other people were saying. That’s because I care what you think.
But you were judging me as a friend. Others were judging me as a blogger.
And as a friend, I let you down, I disappointed you, I made you cry. Of course you have every right to be angry at me. And I’m terribly sorry.

There are friends who stick by you and approve of your actions regardless of what they think is right or wrong. Then there are friends who, when you did something wrong, give you a tight slap across your face and ask you to turn back, to wake up.
Claire and Wendy belong to the latter category. They didn’t do it because they hated me. They did it because they love me as a friend and genuinely care for me. In the process, they had to put up with commenters on their blogs who claimed they’re jealous of me / wanted to betray me / or the utterly ridiculous ones like “You complain so much, go pose naked with him lah!”

They didn’t deserve this. I deserved it. Its the trouble I caused. Why do they have to put up with all this bullcrap? Yet, they did. And although they’re majorly disappointed, they STILL find it in themselves to cheer me up over MSN when I went online.
Friends like these, where to find?

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Guide To Writing Friendster Testimonials For People You Don’t Know

One of my pet peeves with Friendster is seeing people writing testimonials for people they don’t know.
I’m sure we’ve all seen testimonials like these before:

“HmmMMMmm… I dUnNo HeR 1 BuT shE ix berii cuTez aNd preTTyzzzzzzZZZZzzz…..!!! tHx f0R addinG mE tO yOuR FrenZ LiSt! StAy CutEz aNd PreTTy AlWiZZZZZzzzzz!”

Nabeh. You call that a testimonial?
Friendster limits people over 18 to join, but I swear my IQ dropped by half when browsing profiles of those 14 year olds, who cleverly pump their age up to 18 to fool the system. Some even more kiasu and put their age as 84 years old instead. Like talking to ah mah very appealing like that.

Does she look freakin’ 84 years old to you?

I think at the very least, testimonials should contain some substance about the person. They should describe the habits and traits of that person beyond what their profile pictures. Obviously that’s a little difficult considering the person who gives the testimonial and the person who receives it probably never even conversed at all.
So what I’ll do here is provide some hints on how to write good testimonials for people you’ve never met.
If you see them somewhere else, remember, you read it first at
1. Pretend Like They Are Your Long Lost Friend

“WENNY~~~~~!!!! So surprised to see you here on Friendster! ^_^ Haven’t heard from you since Form 3! I thought you went to Afghanistan liaw. But I chatted with Mr Laden on MSN last night and he said you were in London last week? What are you doing there? Keeep in touch ya???”

2. Give ’em A Trip Report

“T+00: read Wenny Sia’s profile.
T+02: surroundings become blur. v nice visuals.
T+03: getting warm in here.
T+05: everything’s so surreal.
T+07: my face is numb
T+10: feel like vomitting.
T+14: effects v strong now.
T+15: shit. cannot hold back. i’m nauseating
T+19: regurgitated on my keyboard. fuck.”

3. Treat ’em Like Weight Loss Products

“After looking at Wenny’s picture, my appetite disappears suddenly. I’m no longer hungry, and I stop having cravings. In fact, food isn’t all that interesting to me anymore. After 10 days, I lost 6kg of weight, 4% of bodyfat and 2 inches off my waist.
Thank you Wenny Sia!”

4. Rate ’em Like How Sammyboy Rates ‘Em

“Met her at L6H9.
looks: 4/10 (very average)
body: 5/10 (a bit fat. boobs hairy.)
CB: 6/10 (trimmed)
AR: din provide. din ask.
BJ: 1/10 (kena teeth a lot)
FJ: 8/10 (accomodating. tried many diff positions until CIM.)
Damage: $40
RTF: never in a lifetime”

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