Was It Worth It?

It’s 5.41am.

A full tank of petrol for my Naza Ria will now cost me RM202.50 as opposed to RM144.00 ’til 11.59pm yesterday. I got caught in a horrendous jam last night getting out of Subang Jaya, and all the way to my destination. There was a mad rush for last minute cheaper petrol and diesel, that even the petrol stations along the highways weren’t spared. I don’t know if it was worth the long wait just to be able to fill your car up with probably three days worth of fuel when inevitably you will still have to fill it up at the new prices.

So…fuel price is no longer cheap; and that is going to affect all Malaysians across the board. My road tax will cost me RM200.00 less from now on but that means I will still have to fork out RM648.00 per annum. The cost of diving and liveaboards will go up as diesel now costs almost the same as petrol does at RM2.58 and RM2.70 respectively. My usual RM50.00 will only get me one return trip to Yummy Baby‘s place instead of two, with 30 kilometers to spare. So I can make a trip to The Mall and then figure out where to refuel. Food and essential items will now cost more while our purchasing power remains status quo. And I don’t care if fuel costs RM5.00 in Singapore because if you convert that into Singapore Dollars, fuel will be as cheap as it is in Malaysia now.

Seriously, I will have to consider converting my MPV to NGV/hybrid. It may cost me a bomb, but that would be better than paying RM60.00 per fuel tank. Instead of giving vehicle owners stupid cash benefits that amount to nothing more than just a few milimeters of taik gigi, it should look into making it compulsory for all major gas stations, or at least for PETRONAS, to provide NGV. As it is, there are only 58 stations providing NGV to cater for 25,000 users nationwide. Subsidise the conversion of vehicles from petrol-based to petrol-cum-NGV based.

Secondly, charge only a nominal sum for road tax. Maybe it is time for the government to consider charging only RM60.00 per private vehicle per annum for road tax. As at 2006, there are 14.8 million registered vehicles, and that alone should earn the government RM888,000,000.00. That is almost RM1 billion in road taxes alone. You think that is going to burden the lower income group? Come off it. RM60,00 a year is nothing compared to 6 packets of cigarettes a week, if not more.

Today is going to be an entirely different day. And it was only 4 years ago that a full tank for my Naza Ria cost me only RM90.00.

Sheesh! I should start robbing banks.

But, really! Was it worth the long queue for those who queued last night?

After 31 Years I Can Still Feel The Pain

Persian Kitten

It has been 31 years since my Persian cat, Foxy, died. I have written about Foxy in several entries on this blog. Everytime I think of him, a sense of sadness would linger. Foxy was my best friend in many sense. He was my only friend when I was at home near the Lake Gardens.

Foxy was given to me as a kitten by my piano teacher who is also the daughter of friends of my parents, Kak Lily. For more than a year, Foxy was my only friend as my only other friend who lived nearby, was also, like me, living in a gilded cage next door being the son of a Prime Minister. Every morning Foxy would chase after my legs while I jog around the field and bite; and he would be by the door waiting for my return from school. Everytime I got a beating from my father, Foxy would come and rub himself against me as I lock myself inside my room; and Foxy would sleep on my pillow next to me, often pushing my face away if I had taken too much space.

Today, I read Aiz’s entry on the passing of her cat, Troy, and after 31 years, apparently the pain of losing Foxy is still there. She wrote this of her husband, Din:

The passing of Troy was very tragic that it made Din cry. I’ve never seen him cry like that before. He cried after he buried Troy and in the middle of the night he cried again..

Suddenly, the memory of losing one’s best friend gushed back into this frail heart. Suddenly the memory of those painful days and nights that followed after Foxy’s passing came back. Tears roll down my cheeks as I type my comment on her posting. I can feel Din’s pain. I can feel the anguish. I can feel the anger and frustration of not keeping Foxy inside the room that fateful night. I can still see the way Foxy, with a broken pelvis, tried his best to come to me as he usually did, to cheer me up every morning. I could almost see the pain he went through trying to get a pat on the head and a stroke beneath the chin.

I am sorry for your loss, Aiz and Din. I really do not know what to say….

…because after 31 years, I still cry for my Foxy.


Bitten By The Bug

Gemgem sent a text to Yummy Baby saying he misses the island. Yummy Baby has been missing the island since coming back. Soon she will join Abang Rina, Liverpool Babe and Gombak4Life doing their open water diver course.

Now they know why am I always cranky if I do not get to dive more than 2 weeks.

Gem and Cotton Islands

Don’t Open Your Mouth


I have many great friends who come from, or are biological descendants of this particular state. There are also those whom I loathe who come from, or are biological descendants of this particular state. A lot of pretty women originate from this state, and cutting across the board, I would say that this state produces some of the most business-savvy women Malaysia has ever known. The men I know, like Deepblu, Holemaster, Sheik, to name a few, are also smart; but the few I name represent the few I know who are smart enough to be called smart. Other than that, if you were to go to this state, the ones minding businesses would be the women, with their gold bangles decorating each hand to just below the elbow, while the men laze around at the local coffee shops talking cock. And I can vouch for my female friends from that state who are both smart and beautiful – Daa, She, Cher – to name a few, and they represent the majority. Trust me, they can make heads turn.

There is also this general view based on various random observations that no matter Harvardly-trained or Queen’s-English speaking they are, the moment they meet another of their countrymen, all that training goes down the drain and they will speak in a lingo that would make you think you are in some kampung in that state…even if you are somewhere in the Taymyr Peninsula in North Central Siberia. Bellieve me, it really happened that way in that place that hardly gets any notice on the world map. While some are handsome and dashing, most of the men would have this typical face where you could see the map of that state pasted on it without them having to open their mouth. They can look very hot and girls would swoon looking at them; but all that face-worshipping ends the moment they speak.

As with the men from other states, there are MCPs from there too. Some would marry women from outside the state to be of some higher social status; some are contented with keeping women from other states as trophy girlfriends, or as some cum-bucket as it would be detrimental to their financial health if their same-state-wife/wives find out about their vice. Some who are more adventurous would screw their not-from-the-same-state-wife, AND their from-the-same-state-ex-wife, just to prove to the latter that he could be fair and just to both women. I mean, it is bad enough to screw your wife and girlfriend; but this, screwing your wife and your ex-wife…is just plain sick. I sometimes wonder if either women know the existence of the other, or know if the husband is still screwing the ex-wife. But that is how disgustingly demented some can get. I know this can happen to any other man from any other state, but I, so far, only know of two who do this and they both come from that state, or are biological-descendants of that state. Very selfish.

They can be self-centered too. There was one who was at a friend’s house, who came with another friend who was invited to dinner at this host-friend of mine. Yes, this guy was not invited; he just came with the other friend. There I was standing next to him and he did not even lift his head to say, “Sorry, I can’t shake hands with you because I am eating, so please come sit down and eat with me.” When I sat down at his table, he started to pull all the lauk nearer to him. What the fuck? How rude can they get? Oh, they CAN actually get worse than that.

On one other occasion, a friend who was also my junior in college and I were eating, when this guy whom we both don’t know, but is a friend to a friend to a friend, walked past us. My junior/friend invited him to sit down with us. This guy probably had to think in Malay, then translate that into his native tongue, then into English, before answering this junior-friend of mine, “I’ve been here before.” What the fuck has that got anything to do with the invitation to sit down? Just because you have been to that place then you think it is your territory and none of us others know about that place as much as he does? How naive and rude is that?

During a recent trip to the local cinema, Yummy Baby had had a bad experience with a woman from that state. There was this woman, dark-skinned, had light foundation applied onto her face that made her look ghastly (she looked ghastly without the enhancement already…the foundation just underscores the ugliness), hair highlighted that made her look like some aborigine woman from Uluru. She probably married some 80-year old Caucasian who probably thought he is Tom Cruise. She brought ALL her kids to watch a movie. When I say ALL, I mean there were about 8 of them. She gave each of them a ten-ringgit note and asked them to buy whatever they wanted to have themselves.

She spoke with this “American” twang and said things like, “Do you want to odder wadder? Whaddabout some porp-corrn?”, and I began to reminisce this one particular incident at a certain Starbucks outlet where someone ordered More-char instead of Mocha. Yummy Baby was somewhat exasperated when her kids started to cut queue just because theirr other siblings were in front of us. This moronic woman should have ordered for ALL her kids instead of munching popcorn and sipping Diet Coke (not that it was going to make her any slimmer) watching her kids buy their snacks. Just when I thought the More-char episode wouldn’t happen there, she cut queue and ordered for her son a packet of CHEEZIES…stressing twice to the cashier the name: CHEEZIES when the cashier read correctly the name of the stuff on the packet: CHEEZELS. Ten minutes later, the inevitable happened:

“Tok payoh lah! Nok masok doh nie!”

…and I went, “Oh, fuck. No wonder she is like that!”

And she cost us the first ten minutes of the movie – the stupid fuck. And not a word of sorry to any of the people who were queueing up for their snacks and had to miss the first part of their movie.

All that put aside, I do speak the lingo, and I love the culture as well as the food that comes from this state. I play the wayang kulit and some of the musical instruments associated with it, and I love budu, no matter how bad it smells. The worse it smells, the better. And as I have mentioned above, there are many great friends who come from that state, but this entry depicts some of the bad ones.

And Deepblu, who hails from that state, and I, made this observation: MEN FROM THAT STATE HAVE SMALL DICK. If you don’t believe us, walk into any public toilet there. Men from that state will never pee at the urinals…no matter if there are 30 urinals in there and only 4 booths with either squat or seat toilets, and 482 men are waiting in line to pee. Gemgem can vouch for this too. And Deepblu and I concluded that the reason for them not to pee at the urinals is because they are too shy to show their tiny dick.

So if you are involved with men and women who meet every single category above, whether or not they are from that state, please leave now and stay sane and don’t humiliate yourself and others of your gender by standing by them.