Update: Part of this post was featured here in The Malay Mail, thanks Sheila!

If I knew my brief encounter with the Prosperity Burger at McDonalds would haunt me forever, I would’ve never made that order. But you know how it can be difficult to predict the future right? It’s much easier to blog about the past, and act like you knew it all along.

However, this story plays itself out quite differently.

Some men say that a woman can tear even the strongest man apart.

But with a prosperity burger?

Well, let’s start this story at almost midnight, on a recent Thursday. A very hungry Thursday. My gut suggested grabbing a prosperity burger from McDonalds (yeah I know, I usually avoid McDonalds, but I was in the mood for beef, and there wasn’t many beefy options at the time).

Little did I know what a horrible choice it would be.

Because it led me to “her”. Yes, her. She was standing right there, behind the McDonald’s counter in her clean white headscarf. Innocent. Her pleasant demeanor invited me to approach her, and initiate the conversation that would change everything.

Read on »

I never thought I would fall in love on the plane.

But yeah I’m on the plane right now, on the way to Sarawak, and guess what.

No, it’s not the dude in the magazine.

I know you like looking at pictures, but let me give you the full picture. I think I found love. And it’s in the advertisement pictured above.

1. The ad copy

This is Seiko Criteria. Selected by Daniel Wu. A chronograph that measures in increments of 1/20 seconds for up to 12 hours with rotary slide rule. 10 bar (100m) water resistant. The watch for the man on the move. Is it you?

Babygirl, you read my mind! You must be psychic! Gosh it’s like we’ve known each other for ages!

“A chronograph that measures in increments of 1/20 seconds for up to 12 hours” is EXACTLY what’s missing in my life!

I’ve been dreaming of it ever since I started time traveling.

Or when I leap through trains doors on the way to work, the last thing I want is to miscalculate an increment of 1/20 seconds, right? Heck I remember being late for business meetings for up to 3/20 of a seconds WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE sweet mother praise the earth!

What was that? It comes with a rotary slide rule? Okay. Might come in handy when I bored on the throne, and decide to measure a body part.

But yeah. Just look at you. You’re a work of art. Just look at your face.

2. Your face…

What a round, smooth face you have…

I remember all those lonely nights, when I’m in my room, 100m underwater, I would dream of a face like yours. Mysterious. Look at all the junk on your face. You’re an enigma.

Will you tell me more?

Nautical miles? Fuel? Oil? Stat? LBS? Calculator? Is the temperature in the cockpit okay? Is it tiger mating season yet?

Your face tells a thousand stories, and my brain will hurt if I knew them all.

3. Plain looking man

Who is this guy? Why is he undressing you with his eyes? This ticks me off a little. I’ll let him off this time. But you ask him to watch out okay.

4. My tie

My tie has nothing to do with my rant about this stupid watch advertisement. I’m just killing time before this aircraft lands.

And the pilot just mumbled some stuff about it (the landing, not my tie).

I guess this is where I stop bashing the advertisement. I mean, I’m sure some men will rush out and buy this watch, and I haven’t worn a watch since kindergarten so perhaps I’m out of their target market.

Conclusion

If you want to be seriously confused every time you want to know the time, or if you truly desire a chronograph that measures in increments of 1/20 seconds for up to 12 hours with rotary slide rule you can ask Daniel Wu for shopping advice.

Meanwhile, I’m off to the rainforest music festival in Sarawak, and forget time even exists.

Talk later.

Three weeks ago my mobile phone decided not to send SMSes on my  behalf. If you sent me an SMS, I would read it and compose 160 characters of wit just for you… but you would never receive it.

What a pity.

Then the unexpected happened…

I would call you instead!

You send me an SMS right? And I’m like KAZZAAAAM!!! HELLO!!! And you’re like WHOA SLOW DOWN BOYO, but I’m like YOWZAAA!!! MY SMS IS BROKEN SO TALK TO ME HONEYBUNS

This would happen with every SMS that demanded a reply.

I started talking to more people.

And people talked back.

Profound?

I wish I could tell you how I now have deeper relationships with the universe. But no. It has made no noteworthy difference in my life.

I guess I’m still noting it down, because I never imagined a lifestyle experiment involving not sending any SMSes for 3 weeks.

I mean, what if you couldn’t send SMSes for 3 weeks?

Try it.

You’ll see what a pointless exercise in frustration it is. I’m getting my phone fixed this week.

Side observation:

Mobile phones and me = Women and me

They look good at first, but after a couple of months they start to act strangely. Guess I pressed the wrong buttons.

The sketch you see is “hdd”, from my gallery of digital doodles

I just got back from the Police station.

It was a long night.

Nika’s friend had a friend visiting from Poland, it is her first night here in KL. She was walking in front of Bangsar Permai apartments on Jln Tanduk, Bangsar, when 3 men leapt out of the car, armed with a giant curved parang.

She got robbed, in front of the guard house of the apartments!

Being the courageous hero manly man I am, I was in Nika’s apartment hanging out, drinking some sour Polish soup they made.

As soon as Nika’s friend stumbled into the apartment in tears, my spider-like reflexes prompted the extension of my muscular arm into my pocket, initiating crucial contact with the police department.

Then my shirt…

I could go on.

But let’s not dwell in the past.

This blog post is about solutions!

If you think about it… everyone you know, knows someone who got robbed or snatched or whatever. Right? Don’t know someone? Well, you know me, and it’s happened to my mom, my ex-girlfriend’s sister, and even I got robbed! Twice! (Both times the robbers got caught / humiliated but that’s another story.)

Gah! Bah! We have to stop these crimes!

Since I want to avoid any real confrontation, here’s the plan.

1. Guys and girls walking around the city? Carry an ugly market-like plastic bag, and put vegetables in it.
2. Make sure a cucumber, or a cabbage is sticking out, so it is clear that you are carrying a bag of vegetables.
3. Place all your valuables next to the cabbage. Wallet, money, handphone, whatever. Wrap it up, place it in the cleverly disguised bag of vegetables.
4. Carry your usual bag, the way you normally would, except you could place a home made booby trap. No booby trap? Place a couple of extra vegetables in there. Maybe a rotten one, too.
5. In the event of danger, drop your plastic bag of vegetables (which contain your belongings) on the floor. Or throw it far away. And give the criminals your expensive looking bag (the one with the booby traps)

OK…ok… You may think this is a stupid idea.

After all, not too many people have real booby traps for robbers. Heck I was thinking time bombs but not everyone has time bombs.

You can also argue that a robber who goes home to find a bag of vegetables might anger him enough to go out and rob some more victims.

But perhaps, in the long run, if all of us implement my idea, robbers may get sick of vegetables, and try other stunts to get money, like becoming social entrepreneurs.

I guess, the idea has too many maybes.

Since this is a serious topic, allow me to suggest some alternatives.

1. Resolve economic disparity through changes in public policy and the education system
2. Increase employment opportunities and skills development for the urban poor
3. Form a special task force to crack down on snatch thieves and robbers

But if you analyze the above solutions, and compare it to my vegetable bag trick, they are just as likely to get implemented, and have any real effect on the recent crime spree.

Seriously.

But I won’t complain about stuff here… Solution focus! Yes, yes! And if for some reason, the solution is beyond my pea-sized brain, I need your help.

If you have any real ideas on what we can do to stop this sort of crime, do share.

I promise to give the best idea a bag of vegetables. (I did this for a friend’s birthday once, so I’m not kidding)

Tell me your great idea for solving snatch thieves and armed robberies, and I will give you a healthy reward.

Poor fat kids.

In my extended Chinese family, the annual exodus back to the village for Chinese New Year is pure hell for fat kids.

Pure. Hell.

My relatives have no mercy on fat kids.

Maybe it’s just my relatives. Or maybe all Malaysian families, not just Chinese ones like mine.

I don’t know. You tell me.

Imagine for a moment…

1. You are related to me
2. You put on weight since last year
3. You came to my village

Are you imagining that?

Scary eh. It is just the beginning.

• Everyone will take turns to point at you with comments and questions. Like “Wow, you are so fat now! What happened?” or “Putting on weight? Very prosperous! Hehe!”
• They will even pit you against other fat relatives… “Look at kor-kor (means brother in Chinese dialect), if you don’t watch out your belly will be as big as his!”
• They will do this, a couple of times, even if you smile politely in return, or ignore them.
• They might even throw you some rude accusations cum weight-loss advice… “Exercise! You never exercise!”
• And yes, they do all of the above, even if they are fatter than you.

In some other context, or culture, this is called bullying. But for my relatives, this is Chinese New Year.

Sigh. I can’t help but feel bad for the fat kids in my family.

But to be very honest with you, sometimes, I’m tempted to join in the fun.

Hey bro, it’s not the year of the pig!

Haha. Ok, that was mean. But you have to understand, I was keeping that in all day.

For the record I am not a fat kid.

I’m fortunate to have an athletic figure. I probably don’t know what it feels like to be fat (and I intend to keep things this way).

However, my older brother, who has long ago decided being fat was no big deal (pun), has to endure this.

Good thing he developed a few defense mechanisms against my extended family. The most powerful being “Wall of ignorance”. It’s almost as though he puts on an invisible cloak, as he goes for the next plate of rice.

Why does it have to be like this?

It’s not like fat kids go up to the elderly and go “Wow! You’re so old!”

I’m guessing, either…

• My relatives are mean! They get kicks out of laughing at fat kids.
• Or, my family members mean well, and believe taunting will drive a fat kid to shed the pounds.

Anyway, I just wanted to highlight this issue to other Chinese families out there to see if it makes a difference. I’m not doing this to make my relatives look bad. I like them, they are generally nice people, who contribute to society meaningfully.

It’s great to have family to celebrate with, even though some members come in different sizes :)

Here’s to a healthy, happy new year everyone!

This letter is Inspired by my younger brother’s hilarious and heartwarming letter to my grandmother, who only speaks Hokkien… a language I’m only familiar with when ordering a style of noodle.

Dear “Amah”,

How are ya? We’re into the final quarter of the year, and boy does time fly! Next thing you know, I’m 94 years old, just like you.

Guess what, I have some good news!

Remember the Apostrophe 16 Word Short Story Writing Competition I told you about. Remember? I shared with you my strategy to win?

It worked! My story was one of the top 16 out of 8,500 entries.

They converted my story into a piece of artwork (left).

However, I didn’t make it to the top 6. If I did, I would be flown to Bali for a writer’s festival, and can probably buy you some fruits when I return.

Nevertheless, the event was really fun, held in the Cental Market Annexe. I’m sure you would’ve enjoyed it.

Okay maybe not, but I enjoyed it.

Got to take silly pictures with other people’s artwork.

Yes, that’s Effa and Nadiah again. No, they’re not Chinese. No, I’m not going to get married with them. I just take pictures with them, that’s all. Yes I have Chinese gal-friends too.

I was catching up with Laych, who is “the older sister” of one of my best friends. Also met the girl who announced the “good news” over the phone.

A.K.A “The Voice”

And this is me licking some underwear. Yes Grandma, this is what young people do these days.

Awwww… :P

The rest of August was pretty cool, too.

Mike and Vishen were travelling about, and the whole MindValley team had to fend for ourselves. We went to so many parties after work!

I’ve blogged about the MDeC creative night, and Flickr24 on the MindValley blog itself. Fun!

But the most fun has to be Yu-jin’s “Gangstas and Ho’s” party!

I grabbed a fake gun and acted like an aggressive ex-con the entire night.

You should’ve seen me grandma. I was shouting profanity at everyone, and using derogatory terms on women.. and everyone was happy!

Strange how things work out sometimes.

Overall, all the little pieces of my life are coming together, and as much as you want me to get married right now, I can’t.

I’m working on so many projects right now, and I’m having too much fun… sometimes I’m not even sure if the conventional idea of marriage is the best approach in this modern day.

I guess when I’m old enough, I’ll understand.

In the meantime, I appreciate your blessings, and I promise to work hard, and work even harder. Sometimes, I’ll party. See you for dinner soon.

sTaY c0Ol 4eVa

One of your many grandsons,
Khailee

Rumour has it, he could chew open a coconut with his bare teeth. The legends referred to him as the “Buko King”…

I had to defeat him.

Watch video PROOF… of me taking on the “Buko King”.

I remember other incidents of course. Some even more surreal.

Such as being led by an island singer to a lonely streetside music machine to impersonate Tom Jones, The Scorpions, and Britney.

They call it Videoke. I call it Karaoke. The locals call it horrendous.

It’s my second time in the Philippines (Manila and Bohol). I was celebrating my one year of being a contributing, functional member of the working class.

Here’s the side of Philippines I saw… illustrated with some videos, photos, and words… sorted by imagination…

Let me start with the beautiful people in our group…

Read on »

Rule number 5 for writing fiction, according to the late Kurt Vonnegut, is to start as close to the end as possible..

I’m not sure if I can get closer to the end than this, considering today’s story begins in a cemetery. 

But then again, this is not a piece of fiction.

Or maybe it is.

I’m not sure what it is you accept as the truth regarding life after death.

Read on »

After 2 weeks of trash talking, the big day arrived…

My colleagues and I at MindValley do more than run mySQL queries and AdWords campaigns… we run offline too ;P

7 of us take part in BHPetrol’s 9km Orange Run at TheCurve.

Khailee: I bought new running shorts. I’ll show them to you when you arrive at the finish line.

Mike: Michelle and I are out having drinks, but we’ll still be able to carry you to the finish line if you need help.

Dave: Get used to looking at C675 (my runner’s number)

The Results

The race is over! No-shows Talat and Vishen, they will be buying all of us dinner to make up for their embarrassment to humankind.

Dave earns bragging rights for his feat of endurance.

Even though we’re all completely tired and terribly injured from the intense competition (or in Vishen’s case, intense partying the night before), we’re already making plans for The Penang Bridge Run in later June this year.

I will redeem myself then.

For now, I’m actually kinda disappointed at myself. I’m used to feeling like an athletic breakdancing ninja, competing in sporting events, running every week etc… However, this morning, I was struggling to maintain a running pace. Worse still, I completely busted my right knee!

I’m not even going to remind myself of the octogenarians and schoolchildren who left me in the dust.

THIS IS A WAKE-UP CALL TO MY BODY

• I realize I don’t have the stamina / horse power I used to possess
• I am more prone to injury.
• My mental strength / willingness to exert has decreased

I MUST NOT go down the path to ageing, poor health, and general unattractiveness!

I refuse to let elements of poor health screw up the story of my life! The last thing I want is to be imprisoned in a fragile, vulnerable, limiting shell a.k.a my body.

I guess all I can do now is write about my fury till my mutant healing powers kick in. Once I recuperate, let the training begin!

P.S - Come join us for a run? Or better yet, for your dream job! We’re hiring bloggers and programmers. More on that in a bit.

Why not go busking at the Bukit Bintang crossroads at 3am, with migrants from Borneo dancing and making song requests? Yeah, why not let’s do that.

Call the gang.

No, it didn’t happen like that.

Click here to read the full story, published on TheCICAK.