The Fog

How many of you actually believe in the supernatural? How many of you have actually seen ghosts?

I was about 5 when I saw a ghost in the form of a scary looking old woman when we were staying in this old government quarters in Melaka. My father used to lock me inside this storeroom. It was pitch black because it didn’t have any window. And this old woman would appear behind me.

I learnt much later that almost all, including my father, had encountered this apparition.

The quarters we lived in when my father was the Inspector-General of Police was equally haunted. We’d hear of rapping within the walls, my bed was tossed about ala The Exorcist, and something would fly part the window.

Have you had your own encounters? Tell us about it.

Groovy Groove Groove

…well, maybe u can write abt how u got your groove back

That was the text message she had sent me earlier. Not groove as in the groovy stuff of the 60s and 70s, but groove as in screw. Not the literal screw, but the intimate one. So if you cringe at reading about sex, or is in the opinion that sex is a taboo, do not read any further. Click on this link to read about the ASEAN economy or something.

The previous few months have seen me having nocturnal (well, daytime too) bedtime activities more than the number of times I have had it since 1991 (when I first got married) until March 2008. Sex had become such a bore to me that I hardly saw the need to even have an erection. Seriously. It was so bad that I used to wonder waking up in the morning sans erection, whether I have lost 50% of what it is supposed to be used for, the other 50% being its use for peeing.

Then when I was admitted to the Coronary ICU of the DSH back in 2004, I was given Cordarone to regulate my heartbeat, and since it (generic name Amiodarone) shows beta-blocker-like actions, it slowed me down – EVERYWHERE! When I was diagnosed as being hypertensive last year, I was first prescribed with Atenolol, an ancient but well-proven beta-blocker, and that further cut down my ability to have normal sex (and, abnormal ones, in case you guys want to know).

I was thus reduced from being a Tiger to a Kitten; ironically can’t even get into a Pussy. I look at a sexy woman, I felt nothing. I watch porn, I felt nothing. I whacked the fella, I felt nothing. I was flogging a dead horse. The Stallion had been reduced to an Ass – without the lethal kick the latter gives. It was not totally dead; there were times when I could have an erection. An ex-girlfriend had my erection poking half heartedly at her ass while she was on all fours and I thought, “There is a God in Heaven!”. Alas, it was during the fasting month and it could have been an MCKK-trait I somehow earned despite not playing rugby after Form Three that decided to rear itself at that awkward moment. It was frustrating not being able to will an erection.

“It could be the company,” I thought to myself. It just had to be. Maybe there was no chemistry there to make a big thing out of something small. It wasn’t totally dead. Not Micro but Soft nevertheless. I even sought the help of my GP, and he recommended me the best tablet for my trouble – but at more than RM50 a tablet, I thought maybe not, since I was not interested in having anyone again.

Then I met Yummy Baby. There has never been any physical attraction whatsoever during the 6 months that I knew her prior to dating her. I never thought I would have made it onto her list of hot studs that she had dated, or were dating then. Even my college classmate she dated before she was married, and after her divorce, was a lot hotter than I, and classier to add insult to an already injured ego. What more (with the exception of the guy who had muscles but had none down there to control premature ejaculation – it could have been the food they served him at a certain boarding school in Melaka) they were driving Beemers, and wined and dined her in classy places; places I would not normally go to on a daily basis to wine and dine a lovely person such as she.

Twice we checked into a hotel with no intention of having sex (oh yeah, I prayed hard for sex not to be on her mind because it definitely was not on mine) – more to spend time alone together, cuddle up in comfort and so on. Then, the inevitable happened. We both got aroused. She was afire, my hose didn’t have enough water pressure! I cursed myself all night, and morning when she left for work. On the second occassion, the same thing happened and I thought I was doomed – she was going to leave me for being a dud.

It had to be psychological. It just had to be. I went for work in Tioman and was diving a lot, and I was relaxed then despite the hectic schedule and the pressure of training people underwater. She was away overseas, helping the economy of a certain country, adhering to Tun Dr M’s call to ‘prosper thy neighbour’. And I missed her a lot. When she got back, we spent some time together in a hotel, and suddenly, in the words of the famous Dr. Frankenstein, “IT’S ALIVEEEE!!!.

Or was that Igor who said that?

Anyway, we average at twice a night, peaking at six. And for each time, I’d make sure she achieves orgasm at least twice before I can rest. I am happy now that I have broken that mental barrier that rendered me useless before I met her. Now, I know she can sleep soundly at night, with sound of course, signaling how spent, sated and satiated she is everytime after an extended performance.

And she sent me this text just now:

“Love you, sayang. You’re such a stud, honey.”

She loves me and the way I do her.

Note: after this entry was posted the frequency peaked at nine TEN. I need a back massage.

Lonely Dinner

There we were having dinner at Le Meridien. She looked superb as always, with her usual sweet smile she throws at me. I was in my scuba t-shirt and Garson track bottom and slippers.

The waiter came to serve our order of Giant’s instant noodles. I know it looks cheap for such a place but I attribute that to my craving. As we were about to start eating, my daughter Nisaa appeared next to me.

“Ayah, nak tissue,” she began. I was like, when on earth did I bring Nisaa along on this el-cheapo romantic dinner?

“Ayah, nak tissue.”

I thought this can’t be real. Her voice was louder than everyone else’s in the restaurant put together. I closed my eyes, then re-opened. It was almost pitch dark. There she was, eyes closed saying, “Ayah, nak susu.”

I reluctantly got up, half-wishing I could still go back to that dream, back to Yummy Baby whom I miss but alas, I have to return to reality.

Back to the perils of single-parenthood.

(This post was made using my new Nokia N95 phone and posted from Ah Pek Kopitiam using its wifi connection)

Semasa Iblis Tidur Membuta, Jembalang Laut Jalan Melata


Bukan hot dog, tetapi waktu sekarang dalam bentuk military time. Iblis masih menggunakan sundial dengan mengukur bebayang suria di atas tanah untuk mengetahui waktu. Sebab itu beliau masih terlajak tidur. Ikut style Arab, mentang-mentang dalam al-Quran dia berbahasa Arab. Tidur pun macam Arab…lepas Zohor. Aku tak envy dia. Lepas selesai tugas dengan tamatnya Devil’s Hour beliau kena pakai ear defender supaya tidak mendengar azan takut terbakar telinganya yang pacang dan nipis seraya menyebabkan surface temperature di hujung tanduknya meningkat hampir sama dengan suhu space shuttle semasa re-entry phase.

Kereta di luar berduyun-duyun tatkala manusia mula pulang dari mencari rezeki di pejabat masing-masing. Aku terlihat seorang isteri bergossip dengan jiran sambil mukanya tebal dengan bedak sejuk. Baru si suami nak balik rumah dan sejukkan hati melihat wajah isteri kesayangan, dah isteri pulak sibuk nak sejukkan muka. Macam tepung gomak. Tebal. Aku rasa 100mg Viagra juga tidak akan menongkatkan si tongkat kepunyaan Ali tatkala melihat wajah isterinya persis Casper the Friendly Ghost.

Aku lihat Nietszche terkebil-kebil di hadapan pintu neraka, masih cuba menjual konsep Nihilism kepada seorang Malaikat. Freud masih cuba nak justify kenapa beliau sepatutnya masuk syurga. Mungkin sebab nak tengok macam mana rupa 70 bidadari yang telanjang bogel. Tetapi aku tidak yakin bidadari yang Freud mungkin dapat akan mempunya rupa cantik dan tubuh sexy kerana beliau lebih suka yang berupa wajah seperti maknya sendiri – gemuk, perut berlapis, tak ada beza antara tetek dengan perut dengan pangkal puting tetek sebesar ashtray kedai mamak, berdagu tiga, pipi melendut seperti telinga orang dari salah satu suku pribumi di Sarawak. Karl Jung masih memandang ke dalam cermin melihat arcanya sambil bertanya adakah itu synchronicity?

Maghrib dah masuk. Iblis sudah mula menggeliat di atas kerusi Cleopatranya sambil menguis-nguis tahi matanya. Aku tengok roster hari ini, Iblis akan berada di sekitar Jalan Ipoh untuk memberi tenaga kepada jantan-jantan octogenarian agar dapat menikmati sisa-sisa hidup berdansa mengikut rentak Inul Daratista dengan GRO-GRO separuh abad dari jam 10 malam sehingga jam 4 pagi tatkala tamatnya The Devil’s Hour.

Susah betul melihat Iblis yang ingin berbakti kepada these tormented souls…sanggup berjaga malam.

Nasib baiklah khidmat aku di sebelah malam kini hanya tertumpu di atas ranjang bersama Yummy Baby jadi aku kekal sebagai Jembalang Laut dan bukannya setan macam yang lain.

Flying In A Blue Dream

I remember one day at the Aéroport international de Genève – Cointrin, while waiting for our flight to Amsterdam, Isyam Swardi and I were humming this song as it played on my phone:

Aku, Iblis, Synchronicity et al

Heureux Hasard.

Lain yang aku cari, lain yang aku dapat yang lebih menguntungkan. Dalam bahasa yang dibawa oleh Karl Gustav Jung – Serendipity, yang bukannya sebuah safara-as-safari untuk melihat gajah-gajah mengawan di sebalik perdu taugeh dan sebagainya di bumi Afrika. Begitulah cara aku membuat kesimpulan mengenai hubungan aku dengan Yummy Baby.

Dalam diam aku duduk menung dalam bilik tandas yang serba…errr…serba-serbi ini, aku terperasan akan satu bayangan hitam yang muncul di belakangku.

“Woi!” bunyi suara kuat menjerkahku. “Hahahahahaha!”

“Cipet la kau, Iblis. Aku tengah contraction ni dan kini dalam labour untuk mengeluarkan by-product lunch dan dinner yang aku makan hari ini,” maki aku kepada Iblis. “Dah lah muncul dari belakang orang yang tengah berak.”

“Aku rasa baik aku yang muncul di belakang engkau semasa engkau berak daripada Brother Anwar ataupun lain-lain kaum kerabat engkau dari MCKK,” jawab Iblis.

“Loyar buruk pulak lu, Iblis,” perli aku. “Iblis pun reti joke ke?”

“Dah tengah bulan ni mana aku ada duit nak beli loyar baru,” jawab Iblis dengan nada bersahaja. “Ni, aku bawak mamat ni untuk kita berdialog bersama.”

Dari dalam bakul sampah yang Yummy Baby gunakan untuk membuang pad, muncul seorang mamat berkaca mata. Aku dengan segera mengenali wajah tersebut: Karl Gustav Jung.

“Elok la jugak kau bawak mamat ni ke dalam jamban ni sambil aku cuba nak berak,” aku mengerutkan dahiku kepada Iblis. “Sebelum aku masuk topik Karl Jung, aku nak sampaikan soalan dari Mr Gem Odorono Corleone yang dimajukan kepada aku tempoh hari. Dia nak tahu sesuatu daripada engkau.”

“Apa dia?” tanya Iblis dengan penuh minat.

“When God created Man, God wanted somone to look over Man, so God decided to create Mother. Mr Devil also wanted someone of his choice to look over Man, so God created Wife. Is this true?” tanya aku.

“Hahahahaahah! Memang betholll!!! 10 markah kepada pasukan Gem Odorono Corleone!” jawab Iblis. “Kalau tidak, takkan Adam begitu banyak masalah dia sampai kena tendang keluar dari Jannah!”

“Kau biar betul, Iblis! Kau mengaku kau boleh buat manusia ke?” aku sergah.

“Eh, tak! Tak! Masa Firaun mengaku dia al-Malikul Mulk pun aku cakap kat Tuhan ini bukan kerja aku. Aku tak akan suruh orang syirik terhadap Allah!” jawab Iblis cemas.

“Jadi apa halnya dengan si Karl Jung ni?” tanya aku sambil cuba meneran semula taik yang terencat dan termasuk semula.

“Dia kata aku dan engkau ada semacam synchronicity.”

“Apakah yang kau maksudkan itu wahai Karl Jung?” tanya aku kepada Karl Jung.

Sambil menyalakan tembakau di paipnya, Karl Jung mula berkata, “Aku ingin menulis mengenai influence Iblis dalam analytical psychology, aku ternampak engkau. Bila aku berceramah mengenai analytical psychology, antara mereka yang menghadiri lecture aku ialah Iblis. Kemudian engkau muncul sebagai guest speaker. Bila aku berjumpa dengan engkau berdua, topicnya mesti berkisar mengenai analytical psychology.”

“Oi, Iblis. Orang tua ni dah mula merepek dan aku nak kena berak jugak. Kalau tidak aku yang psycho sebab anal retention. Kau bawak dia balik sebelum aku berak kat muka engkau.”

“Owh,” jawab Iblis, hampa. “Jadi kita tidak akan berdialog secara intelligent pada malam ini?”

Aku lepaskan satu das kentut yang berbau walaupun bukannya killer application yang dihasilkan oleh laxative yang dimakan oleh Yummy Baby yang hampir membuatku mati kelemasan dan jubin-jubin di dalam bilik mandi slide ke bawah.

“Okay, okay, I get the idea,” jawab Iblis cemas. “Jom Karl, kita sembang benda gila dengan Nietszche kat neraka. Mungkin akan ada topik baru dengan mamat tu.”

Karl Jung dengan segera padamkan api tembakaunya dan masuk semula ke dalam bakul sampah tadi.

PTUING…akhirnya…ledakan najis bermula dalam suasana aman.