Sunday, January 29, 2006 

Pornographic Chinese New Year Doll.

Someone gave my mum two dancing Chinese New Year dolls.

At first glance, they seem innocent enough. That’s until the male one starts dancing.


Monday, January 23, 2006 

Morning Express with Michael Lai (TMNET CEO)

I listened to Michael Lai on my way to work today. The interview is what I can only describe as entertainment at its best. Based on that radio interview, this is what I have to say about the man.

I like Michael Lai, for he is a poet. He says things like:

“Wah, today the flesh is a little bit weak but whenever I am here the spirit is always strong”, before he starts singing “I feel good! Dadadada!”.

“As I always say, at the end, technology is not special, life is.

He quotes, “Aspire to greatness. Each of us is going to travel the world of life’s adventure only once. But once is enough if you do it right. So my advice is - One life to lead, and one life to live, and it’s ours. So make it good Malaysians, doesn’t matter if it’s short or if it’s long, as it was a good one. Because in the end it is not the years in you life that count, it s the life in your years. So Malaysian, be the champions, make it matter."

I like Michael Lai, for he is a neologist. He creates new ways to use common words:

“Last week we asked Malaysians on their opinions on the government’s STABS to curd the country’s crime rates.”

“You’re SPORT on, SPORT on, Nigel!

“Victor from Malaysian IDLE”.

I like Michael Lai, for he looks on the bright side of life (also known as turning a blind eye to fundamental facts).

“I would like to thank all customers out there who supported TMNET through thick and thin and voted for us on the awards.” ~ Michael’s response on TMNET Streamyx winning’s Best Broadband Internet Service Provider.

He obviously forgot that they very much monopolize the entire market.

I like Michael Lai, for he thinks even the dumbest questions are intelligent.

DJ: “And what’s the function of an installer, Mr Lai?”
ML: “Well good question Nigel! An installer's role is to install TMNET streamyx at the customer’s premises…”

I like Michael Lai, for he does not encourage dangerous driving (just really corny punch lines).

“Just for those who balik kampong during this festive season, drive carefully. No speeding on the highway. And remember, it’s only legal to hit on the accelearate, on the broadband superhighway.”

I like Michael Lai. Same time, same station next week.

Radio interview here.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006 

Cybersex, love, and drugs 2

Note: This is the second part to this post. You might want to read it first.

Have you ever secretly liked someone, but never dared to believe, even in your dreams, he’d like you too? Have you ever felt drawn to someone you’ve just met, because he understands you better than you do yourself, and the only logical reason must be, he was a lover from your previous life, and the life before that life, and the life before that life.

From the first time we met, I felt a connection. I felt naked, like he could read my mind, understand my most childish fears, and dispel the knots of anguish I bottled inside. When I looked into his tender eyes, I saw someone who wanted to heal my wounded soul. Someone who felt so much pain looking at what I’ve done to myself, he had to close his eyes to calm his thoughts.

Meeting Jack the first time was an ineffable feeling. It was a short meeting, but when he hugged me before we parted, I knew we would be together.

I was a ship with a torn stern, in the eye of the storm, struggling not to sink, not to crash against the sharp rocks. Every direction I turned, darkness encompassed me. Jack was my lighthouse, my safe harbor, my new drug.

His life story inspired me to change, to stop drugs, to realize that life is a blank canvas and only I held the brush. He was from a poor family. His Dad was in the police force, and his mum worked as a maid for rich Singaporean families. He didn't owned a bicycle, until one of the families his mum worked for threw one out. At a very tender age, he started smoking, got involved in gangs which escalated to drug abuse. His body is covered with tattoos; one on each arm, one on his right calf and 4 Chinese characters on his back.

He bounced back, armed with only his A-levels, and started a very successful sales career in a multinational company. By 23, he had his own car and gold car. His company trusted his so much, he was sent to Europe to run the operations. He decided to stop work in his late-twenties, and with his savings, self financed his diploma, degree and masters in Australia. We he spoke, I listened and respected him, for he too carried battle scars.

I decide to bite the bullet, stop drugs, and endured the backlash of 4 years of abuse. There were days, when I felt so bad, I wished I died in my sleep. Drugs regulated my mood. Now my emotions were all over the place, with extreme highs and lows. Becoming sane again, drove me crazy. But he held me together, he sooth me, he made me feel there was more to life than this.

One weekend, a month after we first meet, Jack came over to my place as usual. And we had a wonderful weekend playing pool, watching old movies and indulging in a legal sin, wine. Sunday night, he stayed with me until I was ready to sleep and made his way across the causeway way pass midnight.

The next morning, while I was still in bed, my phone rang. I smiled, when the caller id showed “unknown”. It must be him.


“Hello”, said an anxious voice. “Is that Slinky? Was Jack with you last night?”

My heart skipped a beat. My mind raced; he must have had an accident. This lady is must his sister, calling me, because he didn’t make it back home. The thought of Jack hurt was too much to bear. I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t speak.

“Hello, are u still there? Were you with Jack last night?

“Yes, yes, I was. Is he safe?” I blurted out.

Silence followed.

My heart sank.

“Do you know who you are speaking too?

“No”, I replied.

I couldn’t bring myself to ask if he was safe. From her voice I could tell she’s been crying. My mind was a blur.

“Do you want to know who you are speaking to?” she finally asked.


“ I am his wife”.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006 

Cybersex, love, and drugs

The first time I had cybersex (1996), I met Jack, who immediately deduced from my obviously lack of sexual experience that I was a virgin desperately trying to pass off as a blonde slut. He was 8 years older, extremely intelligent with a wicked sense of humor. I was immediately, wildly infatuated with his online persona. He was very experience with women and when we chatted, he knew the right buttons to push to make me feel so sensuous. He took a genuine interest in me, and gave me advice without treating me like a child. I so longed to meet him, but alas, though Singaporean, he lived in Europe.

A year later, I moved to KL to attend college and meet the guy who would eventually tear my hymen. Jason was sweet but overly possessive. His explosive temper, triggered by something as trivial as another guy talking to me, cost me a lot of friends. Jack was one of the casualties. Jason forbade me to contact any other male, and happily delete every single male contact from my cellphone and email address book. I was in love, I was blind, and I put up with it for three years. He got abusive; I put on my running shoes, literally.

I moved on and got stuck for another three years with a wannabe-professional-Counter-Strike-gamer, cum pothead. I too became a wannabe professional gamer cum pothead. I spent so much time smoking Jumbo Js, feeding the munchies and exercising nothing but my fingers, my weight hit an all time high of 72kgs. Somehow, Jack managed to find me online through ICQ, and told me to get a grip. I fought back, stopped gaming, started exercising, lost 19kgs (unfortunately it didn’t last ;P) in under a year and managed to complete my degree. But I was addicted to weed.

I started work in JB; my pothead boyfriend did not finish his degree and was going no where in life. I tried my very best to help to help, but eventually threw out the life raft and jumped off the sinking ship. It was perhaps the lowest point in my life. I was single again, after two, three year relationships, and my family was falling apart. Mum and Dad would argue, while I sat in my bedroom, rolling a joint to calm the nerves. Their arguments got worst, my addiction deepen. To make matters worst, I got involve with someone I should not have gotten involved with because he was involved with someone else. I started taking pills to regulate my mood swings, to help me sleep. I took ice, ecstasy, ketamine, dormicum…anything I could lay my hands on. I got involved with people who were bad for me. I took more drugs. It was a vicious cycle.

One night in a mamak, after a ketamine-induced night of partying, when everyone was ready to go home, I felt so depressed; I secretly popped and chewed 2 ecstasy pills. I received an SMS from Jack (he was back in Singapore for sometime now). He wanted to know if I’d be free the next day. I never got the chance to reply. The next thing I knew I couldn’t see. Everything became a blur. I had to be carried back home by a good friend. I hallucinated the whole night of walls caving in on me and people walking around my bedroom, while I lay glued to my bed hardly able to move. I cried and I slept with someone I didn’t love but loved me. The next morning I woke up with a very swollen jaw and a dozen ulcers from biting myself. Even my most hardcore druggie friends felt I was dangerously reeling out of control.

Jack called me that very afternoon to say that he’ll be coming to JB with another friend and was hoping to have coffee with me. It would be the first time we met after 7 years of being online friends.

We met for the first time in Coffee Bean and recognized each other instantly. After the customary “Hellos”, he squeezed my jaw, and although I did not tell him what transpired the night before, asked, “My dear girl, what drugs are you on?”

My heart whispered, “I found my soulmate”.

To be continued...

Part 2 here

Saturday, January 14, 2006 

Four ringtones and a Haiku

Streamyx service down.
On a lazy Saturday,
New ringtones I make.

To the people at Streamyx, I'd like to wish you a warm FUCK YOU for making me to spend my entire Saturday waiting for your technician who never came, and for the phone calls you didn't returned.

On the bright side, I was so bored, I installed a pirated music editing software, and voila! - new ringtones! Here are some of my favorites.

Please note, music files play for about 25-40 seconds.

My new default ringtone is Blur's Song 2 (Listen to ringtone). Woo-hoo!

Interesting fact: Song 2 is the second track on the CD, the second single from the album, it hit #2 in the UK, and it is 2 minutes long.

All my cute boy friends are now assigned to the Bee Gee’s classic, Staying Alive (Listen to ringtone). This tune makes me wanna strut sexily down the street like the tight-ass hunk in the Diet Pepsi commercial.

I got the infamous Katamari, Laaaa lalalalaalaa song as the assigned ringtone for my addicted-to-PlayStation sister.

And all true mobile phone ringtone lovers have at least one techno/trance sounding ringtone, so for my boss, the ultimate Ah Beng track.

Right, time for some juice.


Slinky, not chunky.

Today I stumbled upon this lovely lady’s long fingers while getting my daily fix of Kenny Sia. I like her entries, she’s got such a natural flair for writing, and boy oh boy, what a babe. Such long, slim, limbs…

I envy people who are naturally slim, even more so if they are tall. Even more so if they are slim, tall and look divine without makeup. Even more so if they are slim, tall, beautiful, and gift wrapped with attitude and personality.

Sometimes, I wonder if slim people take for granted how wonderful it is to be slim.

I’ve battled bathroom scales ever since I left high school. From a moderate 51kg 16 year old, I morphed into a stranded beach whale at 72kgs by the time I turned 22. Since then, I’ve been on the Cambridge diet, the low-fat diet, the Atkins diet, the South Beach Diet, the fucking-don’t-eat-anything diet. You name it, I’ve dieted it.

In 2003, I achieve what many, including myself, thought impossible; I got down to 52 by making dieting my religion, and exercising my creed. By leading a life, which was, in no way normal - absolutely no sugar, no rice, no noodles, no potatoes, no fat, no diary, no fast food, no supper, no fruits, no fried food. I worked out till the point of exhaustion, nothing less than 2 hours a day, everyday. But still, I did it! I was fifty-whoopy-doooo-two.

Unfortunately, this dieter’s story didn’t have a Christy Chung ending.
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Like every person not born with a silver spoon in one’s mouth, I started climbing the corporate ladder, and so did my scales. The two equations below basically sum it up:

Equation 1)
More Money = More Work = Less Time = Less Exercise = Weight Gain

Equations 2)
More Money = More Work = More Stress = More Alcohol + Chocolate = Weight Gain

Now at 58kg, I feel the fear.

If you’ve never been fat, then semi-slim again, you will never know the extent of how superficial people can be. You’ll never know the embarrassment of a physician telling you that the reason you have piles is because you’re probably too fat. You never know how belittling it feels when someone tell another “You’re mama’s so fat” joke. You’ll never know what it feels like when a sales girl tells you that they don’t have a larger size because the black pants (always chose black when you’re fat, it acts as a camouflage) you have on, which is too tight, is XL, the largest size they carry.

I swear, there is no way in hell, I will ever be fat again (nullified once I am above 50 years of age or have no more intentions of being naked in front of another living soul). I want to be a slinky, not a chunky chink (hence the blog title). I may no be there yet, but that’s where I am headed. This blog shall be the testament of my humps, bumps, and blue-blacks bruises, along the way. Pray for me Linda, I’d like your legs please.

Update: View Linda's very thoughtful reply to this.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006 

Is love enough?

Lately when we walk pass a jewelry shop, occasionally he'll stop, point to a solitary diamond ring through the glass window and ask me what I thought about a particular design.

In the last couple of years, I watched as the people around me marry for a variety of reasons other than love. In most situations, there was indeed love in the relationship, but also present was a more persuasive factor which influenced them to take the plunge.

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A Singaporean friend of mine did it to own a HDB flat.
My Arab friend did it so she could move out and escape from her controlling parents.
An old college mate did it because she got pregnant.
My gorgeous friend did because she would marry into wealth and luxury.
A good friend did it to facilitate visa application when he got posted to Switzerland for a year.
My ex-lover did it because she's suicidal and he's been with her for 11 years; though he wasn't always faithful, obviously.

Whenever I attend or hear of a wedding these days, I wonder about the other reasons...not because I don't believe in love, but because I think love alone does not create the urgency needed to tie the knot, unless, of course, the couple has refrained from pre-marital sex ;P

For now, I intend to base my decision, solely on the size of the rock.

Sunday, January 01, 2006 

Life insurance, anyone?

I recently toyed with the idea of a career in network marketing/MLM. I am drawn by the promise of flexible working hours and unlimited earning potential.

Out of curiosity, or perhaps the ridiculous dream of owning a snazzy pink Porsche to match my new pink sandals, I sought advice from a friend who has an e-commerce business (better know as Amway). She gave me the fundamentals and some pointers, and promised to bring me along for the next weekly Amway gathering. At the back of her head, I am also sure she gleefully tagged the word, “Prospect”, to my name.

I decided to do some homework and flipped through the address book of my cell phone. I realized that other than my family, there are only 4 people I call on a regular basis. One of them is my boss and the other is the slave (whom I greatly adore) that reports to me.

Somehow the thought of meeting up with someone, I hardly bother to call in other circumstances, to share an exciting new business opportunity with sounds wrong. I know if the tables were turned I won’t find it assuming.


Perhaps I should try professional blogging instead. I heard the pay is pretty decent.