Save Your Lousy Marriage: Go Holiday!

Apparently, “all Malaysians” in crappy marriages can now sign up for a second honeymoon at Pulau Perhentian to rekindle the flames, or at least diminish the urge to pummel each other with shovels. And it’s all sponsored by the government at RM1,500 per warring couple.

This Second Honeymoon comes with a programme for you and your husband. There are long, romantic walks along the beach; building sand castles together (WTF); marriage counseling; and simply being left alone, I presume so they can hopefully, bonk each other’s brains out.

According to committee chairman Ashaari Idris, “We have the right accommodation to help couples become intimate again.” I wonder what that means – probably that you’ll get to stay in a room with a bed as opposed to say, under a coconut tree, which might make it somewhat difficult to engage in ‘intimate’ activities.

So far, four couples who were on the brink of divorce have experienced this Second Honeymoon and are now as happy as a bunch of clams. Their marriages have been saved. They love each other again. They want to make more babies. They want to … sign up for another package. Right. So, there’s a Third Honeymoon package right? And a Fourth Honeymoon package and a Fifth and a Sixth … because we all know marriage requires hard work. And now that the government has taken upon itself to rescue all these silly couples who probably shouldn’t have been allowed to live past puberty, let alone get married, the onus is on the government to keep these couples’ love jugs jiggling. After all, what kind of success story can our dear leaders have if the couples follow up their free honeymoon several years later with a divorce?

This might come as a surprise to some of you but I am a tax payer. Yes, I have a job (lord have mercy). So, forgive me if I’m less than thrilled at the prospect of paying for a bunch of people to go on some free honeymoon to build sand castles and have sex. Honey, if you and your spouse need a honeymoon handout from the Malaysian government, you’ve got bigger problems than your rocky marital union. My advice? Get a job and pay for your own honeymoon. And if you can’t afford to do so, I strongly recommend divorce.

Candle Light Is Evil And Will Lead To Sex In Budget Hotels

“We will also check restaurants that offer candle-light dinners, as these often lead to possible sexual activities in budget hotels,” says JAIS director Datuk Mohamed Khusrin Munawi, who states that Valentine’s Day isn’t for Muslims.

Bwahahaha!!! Is it just me or is that the funniest thing you ever heard? Oh god. I have tears in my eyes. But that aside, I must confess I agree wholeheartedly with the good Datuk. Those damn candles are unwanted pregnancies / pre-marital sex / extra-marital affairs just waiting to happen.

You know what the solution to this is? White fluorescent lights. In fact, you know what the solution to all that’s wrong with this country is?

WHITE FLUORESCENT LIGHTS.

50 Things That Make Me Go “Eeeww”

1. Guys with long pinky fingernails.
2. Guys who perm their hair. I don’t get it.
3. Cars that honk when you don’t move the nano-second the light turns red.
4. People who spit in public.
5. People who mispronounce ‘development’ or ‘three’, use ‘double-confirm’ or say ‘actually’ at the beginning of every sentence.
6. People who cross the road like their grandfather owned it.
7. Cars that go faster at crossings even when there are pedestrians (pedestrians meaning me).
8. When you’re pissed and somebody says, “Chill dude chill.”
9. Limp handshakes.
10. Sweaty, clammy handshakes.
11. People who think Paula Abdul deserved to be on Idol.
12. People who don’t like Simon Cowell cos he’s a “meanie”.
13. Anyone who thinks Adam Sandler is funny.
14. People who step on the toilet bowl to pee (what the hell’s up with that??).
15. People who leave the toilet stall all wet after use.
16. Manoeuvre – it’s the one word I can never remember how to spell.
17. Korean actors with permed bouffants and creepy, effeminate lips.
18. People who speak really bad English but with a British accent.
19. Bats – they look like the spawns of Satan.
20. Stupid things politicians say in the paper to dodge our questions.
21. Men with hair pieces cello-taped to their heads – come on guys, who do you think you’re kidding?
22. Men with comb-overs. Sure, drag the twelve greasy strands the opposite direction and we’ll be none the wiser.
23. Unibrows – unless you’re channeling the spirit of Frida Kahlo, just pluck the damn hairs.
24. Bushy, unshaped eyebrows. Last I checked, tweezers aren’t all that expensive.
25. Moles with hair growing out of them.
26. Ears with hair growing out of them.
27. People who wear super-short shorts to go running, displaying their wobbly cellulite and jumbo thighs for the world to see.
28. Sun sleeves. Worse – patterned sun sleeves.
29. When you’re eating out with ten people and you’re the slowest eater and everyone gets their food but you and when your dish does arrive, it’s not what you ordered.
30. Restaurants that don’t provide complimentary glasses of water (and make you pay RM5 for a bottle of mineral water instead).
31. When waiters take your order and you can tell from their blank faces that they have no idea what the heck they’re doing.
32. When all the parking metres near your car are spoilt and you need to walk really far.
33. People who move their heads too much when they talk.
34. People who physically stand in an empty parking space to ‘reserve’ it for their friend who’s driving around the lot in search of a spot wa-a-a-ay on the other side.
35. People who don’t signal and turn, or signal but don’t turn or turn the opposite direction.
36. People who drive with their hazard lights on.
37. People who drive too slow.
38. People who drive like they have a woman in labour in the backseat. Usually, they don’t.
39. Idiot lorry drivers who tail you and flash you from behind.
40. There’s a traffic jam FOR NO REASON.
41. Traffic police on the shoulder lane on the Federal Highway waving at you to go straight. Hello, there’s no other way to go la. Did you think, without these buggers, we’d all stupidly turn right and crash into the divider?
42. People who slow down to gawk at accidents.
43. You finally find the perfect pair of shoes and they don’t have it in your size.
44. You buy something only to have it go on sale 70% two weeks later.
45. People who go into the dressing room and stay in there while their girlfriends run around the boutique pulling additional stuff off the racks for them to try on.
46. Paying forty bucks for a book only to find it super-boring.
47. Visible panty lines.
48. Cracked heels with dirt lodged in them.
49. Carrot-cut jeans. Every pair should be burned as a warning to other defiant manufacturers of carrot-cut jeans.
50. Shapeless, baggy garments that do nothing for your figure.
51. Reaching 50 and realising I can still go on!!

Burn, Baby, Burn!

I used to read the local papers diligently. Every single day, in fact. So every morning, over a cup of coffee, I keep up with all the happenings in our country:

somebody robs and maims somebody …

some driver falls asleep at the wheel, crashes the bus and kills everyone in it …

somebody slaughters somebody else for cutting him in traffic …

somebody blows up a fancy hotel, a plane, a train, a really really tall building, another person …

somebody warns us not to “sensationalise” racial issues …

somebody spews some more vacuous rhetoric on the wondrous transformative powers of 1Malaysia …

somebody builds a really really big house with funds that seem to have popped out of nowhere …

somebody hacks off the head of a sacred bovine creature and runs around town with it in a most defiant manner …

somebody gets thrown in the slammer for simply doing their job …

somebody gets shoved off a really really tall building …

somebody is accused of corruption while another, who is as corrupt as the big nose on his face, walks away free as a bird …

somebody wants to ban lipstick, high heels, concerts, performances, oxygen, butterflies, whatever …

somebody burns a church …

and another …

and another …

I’m calling it a day and tossing the papers in the bin. I don’t want to read them anymore. I’d rather read this.

1Toilet: Together, We Flush

So apparently, the secret to world peace is sharing a toilet. Yesterday, the Terenganu state government announced that they will introduce … (drumroll please) … 1Toilet!!! In the school!!! Okay la, so the paper didn’t say 1Toilet will bring world peace, but they did say that it will “liberalise education”. Yes, very liberating indeed.

1Toilet is a very clever play of words, cunningly coined to reflect the magnificent 1Malaysia concept that we have all so lovingly embraced. So just as 1Malaysia means we’re all one in this country, 1Toilet means that we all also use the same toilet.

And the poor kids, teachers and even the principal (God bless his soul) of a school in Terengganu have the privilege of experiencing the transformative powers of 1Toilet firsthand. The chairman of the State Education, Higher Learning, Human Resource, Science and Technology Committee (SEHLHRSTC) believes that sharing a toilet will give teachers and students a feeling of “oneness”. When put that way, it sounds almost … kinky.

Sharing a toilet, the government claims, will give kids a sense of “belonging” and will “inspire them to excel further in their education” because students – after experiencing the joys of peeing down the same hole as their teachers – will believe that they are “on par with academicians” as such an act will “automatically invoke a sense of importance”.

I had no idea the mere act of sharing a toilet could result in such remarkable progress. I’m sure the government has conducted sufficient research to ensure the success of this ground-breaking concept. Oh no wait, they haven’t. They just implemented 1Toilet in some school in Hulu Terengganu a few days ago, so it’s too soon to tell. They’ve received “positive feedback from the school management” so far though. Uh huh. I wonder who the ‘school management’ is … probably the ones who don’t have to share the toilet.

The poor teachers. Just when you think they’d suffered enough.

We’re Malaysians And We Like ‘Em Ugly

As a country, we’re known for lots of things – great food, horrendous public toilets and idiot politicians who behave like extras in a B-grade soap opera – and last week, I added one more to the list. We don’t like good-looking people.

Case in point: Malaysian wives are up in arms, insisting on a ban on maids from China cos they’re too hot (the maids, not Malaysian wives). Their husbands will be all distracted and start bonking the maid in the broom closet at night. The Star reported last week that bringing in maids from China will make the “men happy and the women sad”. So, no way to Chinese maids. But Indonesian maids can – these ones we hire by the truckload cos they don’t figure as high up on the Hot Ladder as the ones from China.

Exhibit A: Maid from China. Wah!!! No wonder la Malaysian wives want to ban la. How to fight like this?

It’s really funny how preoccupied we are with looks, and I’m not talking about this in the context of the modeling industry where it’s all about looks. No. I’m talking jobs like maids and construction workers and civil servants.

In Malaysia, we only hire construction workers from Indonesia but not Bangladesh cos they are – just like the maids from China – too damn hot. Radzi what’s-his-name was quoted accusing Bangladeshi construction workers for causing “social problems” because they have “blue eyes and look like Hindi film actors”.

Exhibit B: Construction worker from Indonesia.

Exhibit C: Construction worker from Bangladesh. Oooh … is it just me or is it getting hot in here?

And it’s not just maids and construction workers, let’s not forget the civil servants in Kelantan who must be really fugly in order to be hired. PAS Spiritual Leader, Nik Aziz, declared the state won’t hire “pretty women” because they “will get married”. Um, last I checked, some pretty ugly women also have husbands leh. And to keep the ugly quotient as high as possible, the ugly women can’t wear lipstick (it’s too sexy – ban!) or perfume (it invites rape – ban!) or leather high heels (the sound of clicking heels is too damn hot – ban!).

Exhibit D: Ugly enough to work in Kelantan (the woman, not the orangutan).

Exhibit E: Too hot to work in Kelantan.

Three is the magic number, so it’s now official: hello, we’re Malaysians and we like ugly people. So if you look like a cross between a gargoyle and Chewbacca’s left butt cheek, we welcome you with open arms. Come take care of our children, come build our buildings, come sort the mail in a Kelantan post office. If you’re ugly enough, we might even grant you citizenship.

Wherefore Art Thou, Shah Rukh?

Dangerously debonair Bollywood Superstar Shah Rukh Khan has confirmed today that he is too busy to come to Malacca to accept his datukship. Oh no. This is going to make us look stupid. No, wait a minute. We already look stupid. For the benefit of my valued readers, I have taken the liberty to recreate the scene in SRK’s palatial home, which has led up to the announcement in the papers today:

[SRK is having tea one morning in the dining room]
[Door opens and in walks stout little man with moustache and monkey tail]

SRK: Yes, what is it this time Abu? *raises one sexy eyebrow*

ABU: It’s Ali. The phone’s been ringing off the hook since October. He’s getting rather desperate.

SRK: Who is this Ali and why is he harassing us?

ABU: Well, um, er … remember that letter you received last month? The governor of Malacca wants to make you a datuk, sir.

SRK: What is this dah-took? I can’t recall that letter, I’m afraid. *lips seductively puckered; looks puzzled*

ABU: The letter was from Ali asking you to attend some sort of function to accept the award because you filmed ‘One 2 Ka 4′ there. Apparently, you caused the number of visitors to shoot through the roof and brought Malacca, and by extension, Malaysia, to the attention of the world.

SRK: I did? *furrows brow*

ABU: Yes sir. You quite definitely did. You were rather busy at that time, so I drafted a response on your behalf to thank them for this great honour and politely decline to attend.

SRK: Good job, Abu.

ABU: But apparently, a lot of people thought you were going to be there and they waited with great anticipation. It was quite a letdown when you didn’t show up. Ali wouldn’t accept no for an answer though. He kept calling after that event. At one point, he even declared he was going to take drastic measures.

SRK: Such as? *leafs through mail with bored, yet dashing, expression on face*

ABU: Such as threatening to take back the datukship award.

SRK: Really? *yawns*

ABU: Yes. But when he realised that wasn’t much of a punishment, he threatened to throw himself in front of a steamroller instead.

SRK: Did he?

ABU: Obviously not, sir. He is very much alive and still dialing my number.

[Abu's phone rings in the background]

ABU: There he is again, sir. He is most insistent that you attend a ceremony on November 29. It looks like they want to force you into accepting this award.

SRK: We should’ve filmed in Kazakhstan like we originally planned. This is most tiresome, isn’t it, Abu?

ABU: Yes it is. Don’t be troubled though, sir. I shall write to Ali once again and inform him of your decision.

SRK: What if the poor chap loses the respect of his community for failing to see this through?

ABU: Oh, don’t worry, sir. Nobody respects him in the community.

SRK: I hope that is true. I certainly would not want him to look bad.

ABU: Rest assured, sir, that nobody can possibly make him look worse than he already does.

SRK: *sighs with relief; unbuttons shirt* Thank goodness for that then.

ABU: Yes. Thank goodness.

SRK: *removes shirt and is topless for the rest of the day*

Exercise A Must (Oh Is It?)

I wake up this morning feeling lazy. I’m supposed to get in a short work out before heading off to the office but I don’t feel like it. I’m having my coffee and flipping through the papers, a battle raging in my head: maybe I should work out, maybe I shouldn’t, maybe I should, maybe I shouldn’t, should, shouldn’t, should, shouldn’t. The ‘shouldn’t’ was winning until I turn the page and see this.

The headline reads: Exercise a must, says Rosmah (huh?). Apparently, we are to “spend about half an hour each day to do some physical exercise to keep fit and healthy (oh is it?). Just 20 to 30 minutes a day is sufficient as long as it is done continuously (really ah?).” She then tells us to embark on healthy “activities like aerobics, going to the gymnasium or taking part in jogathons.” (All this coming from a woman whose only form of exercise, as far as I can see, is balancing a head full of hairspray).

After wiping away the tears of laughter coursing down my cheeks, I hop onto my machine and pedal furiously for a good 45 minutes. Then I go wash out my eyes with chilli padi. There’s only so much Fat & Ugly I can handle in one morning, you know.

Yes, I understand the government is trying hard to get the rakyat off their butts and lose some poundage, but come on. If you really want to make exercise appealing, stop putting up pictures of men who look like they’re nine months pregnant and women who look like they just ate their kids for lunch.

God, I need to erase all the Ugly I’ve just witnessed.

Okay, that’s much better. And for added measure …

… ah … now … um, what were we talking about again?

Ah Seng (Alor) Now & Forever

We now have an ending to the whole four-day Alor saga. Looks like Alor will remain Alor (for those of you who read my previous post, ie. Ah Seng will remain Ah Seng after all). Only in Malaysia, we have stories like this. I swear to god, if all the comedy writers will just come here and stay for a while – for example, in Malacca where Bollywood likes to film their movies– they’ll have enough material to last them several lifetimes.

Sometimes I wonder if our politicians are being numbskulls on purpose. I mean, come on, are you honestly telling me that any human person can possibly be that stupid? They do stupid things that make no sense. They try to fix things that ain’t broke. They make major decisions like changing baju. Hmm, today I’ll wear the pink batik shirt … no wait, maybe the yellow … I’ll drink kopi with milk … hmm, on second thought, I’ll chance it and go with the sirap … aiya, very boring la today, I think I’ll initiate something big like setting up a special taskforce to chop off all those pesky trees and … change all the road names in the city!! Oh ya, and on the way home from work, I’ll buy a new set of golf clubs and marry somebody new.

And these people are our leaders??? We’re so screwed it’s not funny. The only consolation for now is that Alor stays Alor, I guess. I can’t even be happy about that because this whole idiot fest shouldn’t even have happened in the first place.

May the chicken wings rest in peace.

My Name Is Ah Seng And I’m 35 Years Old

You have a son. His name is Ah Seng. Everybody knows him as Ah Seng. Everybody likes Ah Seng. Ah Seng is 35 years old. Not young anymore. Ah Seng serves the best chicken wings and char siew in town. In fact, Ah Seng is so famous that he’s even listed in 900,000 web pages on the Net. Very famous.

Then one day, you decide to change Ah Seng’s name to Ah Beng. Everybody asks you what the %#$@#% you changing his name for? You tell them it’s to upgrade his image, so that he is more international. More canggih. Like cosmic superstar and space. Since your other son became Space Flight Participant and went to space last year, it stands to reason that you must carry this theme through with all your children.

People accuse you of being a numbskull, moron and flat-out arse. “You want to upgrade Ah Seng’s image? Give him a haircut first la. Then tell him to stop wearing kiam-chai singlets and those obiang spectacles la! What for you want to change-change name all that? The fler still the same person, so what’s the goddamn difference?!! Make people confused only!”

You defend yourself by telling everyone that this wasn’t a rash decision. This wasn’t something you dreamed up one day in your big fancy office while eating kueh lapis and surfing the Net for pictures of cats. No siree!! It was something that was planned three years ago. In fact, after Ah Seng has become Ah Beng, his brothers Ah Meng and Ah Heng will soon be renamed Epsilon Lyrae and Ali. Or maybe Abu. See how.

So, despite people’s protests, you go ahead and change Ah Seng’s MyKad to Ah Beng. Changed his driver’s license, birth certificate, passport, etc. It’s damn a lot of work, time and money but nvm, your calendar’s wide open until year 2020 anyway. Besides, it’s all worth it for the sake of Ah Beng’s image.

It has been a few days since the name change and people are still pissed off and cussing at you. They still think you’re a numbskull, moron and flat-out arse. You don’t know what to do. You now realize how big an idiot you’ve been but it’s a bit too late. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. How now???