Author: admin

Father’s Day

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The candles formed a heart shape in the dark. Amazing.

I just got back from my cousin Clare’s 21st birthday party. I might be wrong but Clare must be my only cousin who knows about this blog. It must be about 2-3 year since I last saw her. She has grown up to become so beautiful I barely even recognised her.
Oddly, Clare’s party was also a pseudo Father’s Day celebration. All my maternal relatives whom I haven’t met for a long time were there. At one point in the party, all the fathers present gather around the cake as their kids happily wished them “Happy Father’s Day.”
But my father wasn’t one of them. I envy them. I envy all those whose father is still around. I envy all those who can say to their father, face to face, “Thank you, dad.”
Its been almost 7 weeks since my father passed away on the 4th May. According to Chinese superstition, the soul of the dearly departed still lingers around for 7 weeks, after which he’ll leave forever to a different world.
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7 weeks already. Feels like its been such a long time with him not around though I can remember the events leading up to his passing as vividly as if it only just happened yesterday.
Its common practise for us kids to call out “Pa chi, Mi chi” (Dad, eat. Mom, eat) as a form of courtesy to our parents when we have our dinner. The day after the wake, I broke my own heart when I called my father to eat eventhough he’s no longer around.
Its been 7 weeks, and I still miss him.

I couldn’t celebrate Father’s Day with my dad, even if I wanted to.
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A Letter To Gym Masyarakat

To: The Manager of Gym Masyarakat
Dear Madam,
Re: A Little Suggestion For Improvement
I have been a member of your gym for two months. Although I appreciate you offering members like me a nice environment to workout and lead a healthier lifestyle, I feel there has been some rather frustrating issues plaguing the operations of your gym that’s overlooked.

Gym Masyarakat is a state government-sponsored gym that is actually quite decent, if it weren’t for its lousy management.

For your convenience, I’ve summarised those issues below.
1. The gym attendants in general are helpful. However one in particular stood out like a sore thumb. For some reason, the vocabulary of that attendant in question seems limited only to two phrases – “No” and “Don’t know.” I don’t even need to ask anything because I know her answer will be definitely be something negative.

This is the most useless help desk in a gym anywhere in the world… simply because there’s nobody there 90% of time. Even if there are people there, they sure don’t provide any ‘help’.

My issue with her started even before I joined this gym.
Kenny: “Hi. I submitted my gym membership application 3 weeks ago and I still haven’t heard from you. Do you know what happened to it?”
Blur Staff: “I don’t know.”
“Okayyy then… is it possible that I speak to your manager?”
“No. She’s not here.”
“When would she be in?”
“Don’t know.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
*blank stare*
“Alright… I’ll leave my card with you. Please ask her to give me a ring when she gets this.”
“Ok.”
Rather predictably, I never receive any follow up. Its only after I made a second trip to the gym that I got your number from a different gym attendant.
2. Every now and then there is this one big group of smokers (some of whom are the gym attendants themselves) gathering at the entrance of the gym fagging happily whilst the front door is wide open.

Evidence: cigarette butts outside the gym entrance.

All the smoke generated from them inevitably spread into the gym, polluting the lungs of everyone else inside. I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want when I’m puffing heavily on the threadmill is to choke on second hand smoke.
3. I’m ok with the gym closing on public holidays, but I am NOT OK with is the gym closing without giving its members any prior notice. The most recent example was over the Gawai Holidays. We were given notice that the gym will be closed on Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. We were NOT given notice that it will be closed on Friday. So while your gym attendants were off enjoying their 5-day break, the bunch of us were met with a locked door on the Friday when we expected it to open.
4. The advertised closing time for Gym Masyarakat is 9:00pm on weekdays. Not 8:45pm, not 8:50pm, but 9:00pm. Therefore I do not understand why the lights are off, music are off and the aircond shut down even before the clock hits 9:00pm. I certainly do NOT appreciate having the lights turned off on me when I’m halfway lifting weights. It is RUDE.

Don’t turn off the lights when I’m still working out. Who do you think I am? Batman?

5. If there are times when the gym needs to close at 8:30pm, let us know EARLIER. Don’t turn off the lights in the middle of our workout unexpectedly just to chase us away so you can have an early night. It is RUDE.
6. And on that note, may I remind you that your clock in the gym is actually set ten minutes too early.

My clock says 8:32pm when your clock says 8:40pm.

There are no reasons why these problems should arise, apart from the lazy sloth-like attitude some members of your staff adopt. I’m sure you’ll agree with me that it doesn’t take much effort at all to put up advanced notices, close the gym on schedule, or for that attendant to smile and learn new words like “Yes, how may I help you?”, does it?
Well, I thank you for taking time to read this letter and I do hope that you also take time to rectify these problems. It doesn’t cost money, but it will be for the benefit of your gym and its members.
Have a nice day.

Warmest Regards,
Kenny Sia

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Why You Should Vote For kennysia.com

I haven’t got any funny stories to share today, so I’ll just write something I haven’t wrote about in a long time – myself. Normal blogging resumes tomorrow.
I am privileged to be chosen as one of the finalists in the PPS Blog Awards 2005, organised by the Malaysian blog portal Project Petaling Street (PPS). Most people probably don’t care about this but it is quite a big thing to me. This award is unique because it is one that is organised by Malaysian bloggers, voted by Malaysian bloggers, for Malaysian bloggers.
There three award categories are : Blog of the Year (BOTY), Ping of the Year (POTY) (aka Best Blog Entry) and Neophyte Blog of the Year (NOTY) (aka b3sT n00b b|0GG3rz!)
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I hope the winner gets some trophy like this.
I am honoured to be in the running for the Ping of the Year award together with such worthy contendors as Jeff Ooi and Peter Tan. *pauses for applause* I am also up for the prestigious Blog of the Year award alongside well-respected Malaysian bloggers such as Mack Zulkifli and Viewtru *pauses for another round of applause*
There’s one day left till voting closes. If you’re a eligible, I urge that you cast your vote. You don’t have to vote for me, vote for the meaning behind it. In saying that, no matter who emerges as the winner, do remember than in our hearts… we are already winners.
May the best man wins. *wipes tears*
:’)
AAAAHHHHHHHH Screw this diplomatic bullshit! Cannot tahan trying to act Mr Nice Guy already. Too boring!
That’s the problem with us finalists. We are all too nice to each other. No one is writing anything passionate about this contest I’m starting to think we finalists probably forgotten all about the awards. What we need here is a little bit of pretend rivalry to spice up the awards. Which is what I’ll do.
I’m unable to contain my excitement. Its true that I respect the other bloggers in the running for this award, and its true that I probably don’t deserve to win. But I cannot hide the fact that I want to win the PPS Blog Awards. There’s free T-shirt and free 1-year webhosting for the winner. And I want them. I want to win. Who doesn’t?
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The prized T-shirt, as modelled by PPS Administrator Aizuddin Danian on the catwalks of Milan last summer.

The behind-the-scenes gossip at the PPS Blog Awards is already sensational on its own.
Initially I was leading the nominations for both NOTY and POTY, narrowly losing out the BOTY finalist spot. Jeff Ooi’s BOTY finalist spot was a certainty and looking at the number of nominations, many predicted that I would win NOTY and Jeff Ooi would win BOTY by a landslide.
Yet, when the voting booth opened many people was surprised to see that Jeff Ooi had relinquished his BOTY finalist spot. I was taken off NOTY and given Jeff Ooi’s finalist spot to run for Blog of the Year, eventhough I didn’t qualify in the first place.
This could only mean one thing. I’m not a NOTY boy.
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And the nominees are…
Pardon the lame pun.
To Singaporean readers who have no idea who Jeff Ooi is, allow me to introduce. Jeff Ooi is one of the most respected bloggers in Malaysia. He is our very own moral crusader, our freedom fighter, our online ombudsman, Malaysia’s Most Influential Blogger, and the AH KONG of all Malaysian blogs! As an analogy, think Singapore’s mr brown… but a lot more serious content and a lot less humour.
I look at the people I’m contending with and I look at myself. A lot of people might disagree with me, but I’m the underdog here. Let’s see who I’m up against.
Blog of the Year
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Or if you like… Triple Mack Vs View Mystrurio Vs Hulk Coconut

Viewtru. An anonymous blog whom some people say have the same brand of humour as mine. He’s been blogging since September 2003, which makes him the veteran blogger in this category. Compared to my blog, Viewtru’s style of writing is not as attention-grabbing. It is very casual and relaxed which probably appeals to the other bloggers who would cast their vote in his favour based on that.
Mack Zulkifli is a highly intellectual individual whose blog focus mostly on politics and current affairs. He’s often compared to Jeff Ooi, and I must say they are indeed quite similar… right down to their brush with the local police respectively. Some would say his blog is dry and reads like a PhD thesis. But unlike Viewtru or myself, Mack’s blog seek to empower not entertain. He’ll appeal to voters who want a serious and mature current-affairs-type blogger to take the Blog of the Year award because let’s face it, I find my coconuts more interesting than politics.
Ping of the Year
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Or if you like… Stone Cold Jeff Ooi Vs Kenny Cena Vs Peter The Rock

Jeff Ooi’s blog got him on front-page headlines and won him the Freedom Blog Awards. And all my April Fool’s entry got me was marriage proposals.
Peter Tan risked his life to type this entry when the Earthquake hit Penang. All I risked was my dignity.
I think its pretty obvious which one of our blog entries has more substance lah.
Damn. I wanted to blast my opponents but I ended up giving people reasons to vote for them instead. But yeah… vote for me because you enjoyed reading me or something lah (I hope!)
You need to be a Malaysian blogger previously registered with Project Petaling Street to be eligible to vote. There’s one day left, so be quick!
And if you can’t vote, I guess you can always give me encouragement by telling me how beautiful I am.

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My Very First Newspaper Interview

“Flash your titties on your blog big deal ah? Come interview me lah!”
Nabeh.
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.
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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.
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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.
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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. 🙂

Datuknametoolongitis

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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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Umm… Jalan Murtabak?

Then they start naming the roundabouts after these famous people.
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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.

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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:
“Huh?”

Which Singaporean Blogger Are You?

Introducing sgblogger.kennysia.com
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: sgblogger.kennysia.com
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 myveryownglob.blogspot.com

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.
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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Yea, stay away from him.

5) The popular guys
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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
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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
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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.
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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

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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”

Ouch.
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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.
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Looks normal right? Ok don’t ask me what ‘Macho Membunuh’ and ‘Anggun Membunuh’ means. I have no idea.
Here’s a closer look.
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TUAN SMITH!!!!
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PUAN SMITH!!!!
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’.
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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.

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