Hang Tuah Fails SPM From Excessive Clubbing Nights Out

The Day Of Conundrums

I stared at a mannequin with temperature aversed nipples today and thought that the world was just like a store full of mannequins. Full of superficial tits.

I went to Memory Lane today and noticed that there were 13 "Goodbye!" cards. But there was not a single "Welcome!" greeting card and thought that people won't really like you until they know you're gonna leave soon.

I went to a store today and saw a Malaysian brand trying to sound like an Italian brand selling Malaysian songket and songkoks for Hari Raya. To Malaysians who want to feel like they're wearing Italian inspired songket and songkoks, no doubt. I bought one and cursed at myself in the toilet while shaving just now.

I saw an TV commercial showing a dad looking guilty at the dinner table, when his 5 year old girl said to him "Waaahhh banyaknye makanan ayah!". And a tagline came out along the lines of "Elakkan Rasuah". And the end shot was the father reaching out and continuing to eat. And the ad was sponsored by the government.

I had to slam on the brakes today when a Subaru Impreza decked out in full Rally kit and decals emergency braked in front of me upon reaching a bump in the road.

I went to Times Bookstore today and was annoyed that there were only FHMs, CLIVEs, and NEWMAN magazines with scantily clad women on the covers when I was looking for AUGUST MAN September issue to see if they're finally putting more scantily clad babes in their content.

I wanted to buy a baju raya that is corporate yet looks rebellious, from good designer brands that are going for cheap, that doesn't look Ah Beng. I think the fashion industry is purposely avoiding my segment in their focus groups.

I walked past British India today and noticed their prices and wondered if a bunch of Malaysian designers decided to create a brand that reminds Malaysians the feeling of being screwed in the ass off of our money by the Colonists.

I wish there was a book that summarises the stories of all the other books that I've bought but never read.

Technically a cock doesn't come with balls. Only testicles near their backbones. Ironically our leaders are cocks with no balls, while the people who make up the backbone of the country are closest to all the piss work.

Caution : Calculative Risk Ahead

A lot of my friends are getting married this year. Either they're 3 years late or I was 3 years early. There's nothing worse than to turn up at a buddy's wedding with a baby in tow. There'll always be 2 camps of friends at a wedding. One that snickers at the groom on his impending doom, and another that welcomes him with open arms. You know what they say, the more the merrier. But in most cases, these wishes by baby-toting husbands are more like cheese tied to a string leading into a box trap. Obviously with a baby as an accessory, you fall into the latter category.

But as a consolation, friends' weddings also serve as a time for people like me to find a desperate purpose. To put the experiences I went through to good use, and impart my newly found wisdom to the walking dead.

Marriage, my soon-to-be domesticated compadres, will ultimately amount to a game of numbers. A series of binaries that will distinguish your right to the bed or sofa, a night at Laundry or doing the laundry. It's about calculated risks, and how to manage them.

Sure, you may get all caught up in matrimonial afterglow - you sit down together, holding each other's hands, gazing into each other's eyes and list down a checklist of magical and wonderful things that you will do for each other, with unicorn rides into the sunset, baking carrot cakes together while you cuddle your unborn child within her glowing and growing belly.

You'll be the best husband ever! And she did a great job in moulding you since the engagement. She'll be the best wife in the world, and she can't wait to fill in the role of your very own Martha Stewart.

But what makes a good husband? By doing more than what a boyfriend does?

And what makes a good wife? By doing less than what a single, available woman would?

Wrong.

It's completely the other way round. At least to you, it is.

Husbands will ultimately justify their efforts into the marriage by what they're doing LESS than what they used to, not more. For example:

1. Less going out with the blokes

2. Less time on the PSP

3. Less drinking sessions

4. Less karaokeing sessions

5. Driving with less speed

6. Spending less on himself

7. Going out with the blokes but spending LESS time than usually before and coming back early

Wives, on the other hand, will compare that with what they're doing MORE of:

1. More time in the kitchen

2. More time sorting out the laundry

3. More time cleaning the house

4. More planning (equals less spontaneity)

5. More heart to heart discussions

6. More health conscious

7. More time at home.

And these are the numbers you'll automatically pull out when the honeymoon's over, and you're being questioned on your contribution to this matrimonial relationship.

And when you men start thinking of of what you're depriving yourself of, also think of what's added on her plate.

Then maybe, just maybe...you'll both see that Hubby needs to spend more time with his friends. And Wifey needs a break from the dishes.

So you can still come home at 3am, drunk driving while playing the PSP. And do the dishes.

Either way, you still lose, you jackass.

Mano a Mano

There's this theory that time and space can be bent. And, if bent at a 180 degree angle, you get to see yourself, just in a parallel plane. If you adjust the angles, you can manipulate time and space to see the past, and possibly, the future. This can be verified by Denzel Washington, as evident in his misadventures in Deja Vu - if any of you wish to know further about this opening remark more than giving a toss to read where this is all actually leading to.

So, say you had this uncanny ability to manipulate time and space albeit the nerdy costume and gay superhero name. What would it be like? With a twist of your left and right hands, you somehow work the angles and voila, you're standing face to face with the previous you, and the future you.

Previous Me would be the one that freaks out the most, first.

Current Me would then turn to Previous Me and hug him ever so tightly, screaming phrases like "I miss you!" and "Take me back with you!" or bawling out " Don't ever leave me again!".

Then Previous Me starts kicking me in the ass, screaming out "What did you do to me?!?" or "How could you!?!!".

But suddenly, Previous Me will notice a few things that he missed out on all the commotion.

Parked in the garage is a magnificent steel stallion, idly sleeping in turbine slumber, with bared nostrils and 4 nose rings oozing out of its own charisma of dur technik, that has been versprunged.

And at the front door a beautiful lady with adoring eyes and a sunshine of comfort and heart.

And in her arms, happiness, joy and beauty bundled in a tiny human being's body.

Previous me starts to think "Dude, this is not so bad after all".

And Current Me picks himself up from the floor and brushes him off. "Yeah, you know what? You're right. This is way better than what you got going on over there...kinda" (points to 43 degree angle of warped time and space of 2002, where some Kampung Baru mongoloids were dancing on the podium in Bar Ibiza, dancing to Beyonce).

And both of them will turn to Future Me. "Let's see what you have on your side, old man".

"I can't show you." he says.

"But I'll tell you all about it over a few brewskies, gents."

And we'll talk and talk all night till the wee hours of the early morning.

Contented and pleased with ourselves, we all adjourn.

Previous Me goes away to find a chick with an apartment to crash at.

Future Me goes back to his house just in time to catch his son crawling back from his night out.

And Current Me goes back to change fresh diapers and kissing his sleeping wife goodnight, and thanking God for what he had, he wouldn't have had it any other way. And for what he has, to hold them tightly and never let go. And for all that's destined to come his way, to be true to who he was, that made him who he is, and will lead him to who he will be.

Have we met? Cause you look DAMN familiar, man.

My 28 day old baby girl woke up for her second morning feed at 6am today. I was half asleep, holding her bottle to her mouth with my right hand Taking my cue from all fatherly characters in feel good family movies, I started to softly coo and babble baby talk to her as she was noisily sucking away at the silicone teat.

But instead of getting the overly familiar giggle, smile and cute gestures back, all I get was an intense look on her face with an expression that clearly resonated a chill of deep and dark experiences from my past.

It was that unmistakable female facial expression, with slightly frowned eyebrows, cocked head to one side and questioning eyes. "Like, Can I help you? Do I know you for some reason?"

In my short tenure as a father, the same thoughts did pass by in my mind a couple of times. Do I really know my daughter? Should I take for granted that she actually knows me? Or do we both just pretend that we know each other?

So she stared at me. This giant, holding her tiny body in his arms. Popping bottles in her mouth. With that look plastered all across her face.

She doesn't know me.

But she doesn't mind. Somehow she feels that it's safe and she doesn't cry or wail or kick me in the nuts and escape by rolling herself down the stairs to the neighbors house and cry "Stranger Danger! Stranger Danger!".

I don't really know her.

But somehow I'd jump in front of a moving truck for her.

Then she kicked me into reality, signalling to me that she's had enough milk for now. I pull out, burp her while trying to ignore the milky stench, and was rewarded with a resounding audible of her poop and the unmistakable tremor in her diapers.

My Oscar Acceptance Speech

If my life was a major motion picture, and it won an Oscar, what would my acceptance speech sound like? Maybe...

"Oh my God. I mean, 'whoa!'...this is outrageous. Right. First of, I'd like to tell you all about the wonderful journey that has been the making of this extraordinary film.

It all started sometime in July '78, where the idea of this story was probably conceived by 2 brilliant people, the legendary Mr. Sufian and the ever graceful Mrs. Mardiana. The concept was a no-brainer to decide on. Within a few minutes of negotiation, the team went straight into pre-production.

All it took was 9 months before the full development of the lead character's role was born. I remember the day of shooting for the first scene in a hospital location in Pudu. Though the producer was toiling away for several hours getting the scene to come out right, the director came on set a little late, and the first take was already done. And that was the beginning of thousands of brilliant cinematography work which took nearly 30 years in the making.

I'd like to thank Mrs. Jacob of Tinkerbell for the wonderful coaching on how to read the alphabets on the script, and learning to tell the time. The impromptu "hot cross buns" performance also helped to sharpen my skills as the lead role for the upcoming scenes.

A big thank you to Ms. Jayem for the piano lessons that gave me just enough skills to memorize Fur Elise, and use it as a cheesy tool to tickle the ivories whenever the opportunity struck within the confines of a piano/keyboard and a chick. Apologies for dropping out at Grade 3 and shifting over to the drums.

The highly engaging scene at the Ulu Kelang regional ping-pong tournament could not have been choreographed as immaculately as it did without the coaching of Encik Nasa, the ping-pong coach. Although my character had to lose to the flying chinese super twins (villains) from Rawang, it was one of the highlights of the film, especially when we were forced to wear the ever colorful girl's netball team jerseys for lack of funds.

A wonderful thank you to Encik Abdullah, for conceiving his daughter, which played the lead role of the love interest in the primary school scenes, and for then leaving the country with his daughter in tow so that my character could venture on to other pastures at the age of 13.

The High School scenes

The cast and crew at MYPM was a fantastic bunch to work with for 2 years, and special thanks goes to Encik Ismail Muzir, Aton, Ramli Jawi, the wardens Encik Razak and Ustaz Md Nor for whipping my character's ass into shape. To those playing the senior roles, my heartfelt thank you for kicking me in the ass when the situation required for it to be, you sons a bitches! Couldnt have made it through adulthood if you didn't. I'm also very sorry for throwing stones at Mr. Muzir's kids as they played in the backyard of the warden's old quarters of the old dorm.

When we changed location to Melawati (after being evicted off set from MYPM due to ridiculous reasons), the new production and cast went straight to work in progressing the newer scenes. The casino scene with Shahan and Anwar Mata at his apartment, the porn sessions at Usop's house, sleepovers in the tents at padang H and basketball at Aneil's, smoking up at Afat's stairwell, the scenes shot every weekend at Salem Power Station at Lot 10 were definitely memorable moments in filmmaking.

Special thanks goes out to the costume department at Jun Saito and Cardin House in Sungai Wang for the best designs in costume history. From the 20" bawah and lipat atas designs were definitely in-season styles for those scenes. And sorry for not agreeing with you guys on the "poket belakang Batman" designs.

The LimKokWing scenes

And who could forget the slutty gals (extras) in LimKokWing for those eye refreshing days when the scenes were getting tiresome. From bra-less tops to the shortest-shorts, it provided the perfect backdrop to the adolescent scenes. Also to more smoking up sessions at the stairwells of the Tun Razak and Taman Mayang sets. And Adrian's car was one of the best props we've ever worked with, since it could be started with just a set of folded scissors and it also had an ultra cool oscillating fan on the dashboard, which was a brilliant touch that made the scene perfect.

The Rhode Island scenes :

Thanks to Arthur, Payii, Yau and Kentaro for the good stuff, Farid for the Fifa 1998 and Tekken 2 sessions and Fahar for the clubbing and drunken scenes, especially the weird night out when 2 Malaysians sesat at a wet t shirt contest, front row and tak malu. The gaduh scene at the traffic light on the way home from clubbing at Thayer Street could have been an awesome one, but alas our senses came back to us and we decided to ditch the idea.

Thanks to Bobby the chinese restaurant cook for talking in a funny accent and blowing your top off whenever we called you names in the kitchen. You're still a babboon who cant cook for nuts.

No thanks to Mr. Boyscout who came from nowhere to Rhode Island and no thanks to Fahar who dumped him in my apartment where he spent the whole night talking while I tried to sleep in drunken stupor and ignore him.

No thanks to Farid that dragged all of us all the way to Philly with the promise of 'Hot Malaysian chicks from IRC!' and wound up with a decent nasi ayam meal, a cute pose with kittens, a weird night at a weird club (coz you didnt wear shoes!) and at least a trip to six flags after 19 hours of driving in winter and playing games through the sunroof.

Thanks to Mike Schiller and Chris for being terrible paintball coaches but cool weedsters to hang out with every weekend. At least team Naga got as far as 9th place at the New England Paintball League 1999.

A big thank you to Apai for freaking out after his first X and forced the whole crew to leave early from club Hell, only to find him dancing alone in the attic with the strobe light on 3 hours later, after claiming his first 'peak'.

The Advertising scenes (FCB)

I'd like to thank Mr. SP lee for his awkward pauses in our discussions, Mimi Mook for throwing JRs back to my face, the creative teams for accusing me of being the client's lackey and the production team that printed out my mailers in the wrong grammage. And to everyone for the drinking and party sessions

The Advertising scenes (Grey)

I'd like to thank Jeff Orr and Guan Hin for the awkward pauses in our discussions, Phelo for throwing JRs back to my face, the creative teams for accusing me of being the client's lackey and the production team that printed out my mailers in the wrong grammage. And to everyone for the drinking and party sessions. Special thanks to Kamal, Eddy, Steve, Pawan, Michael and Amos, my bros before hoes.

Special Mention

Special thanks goes out to the podium girls at Forum, Barbarran, Chinois, Nouvo and Ibiza.

And to wrap it up

To my supporting cast and crew, which includes my siblings and family, thank you for being there for the ups and downs, the highs and the lows.

And to my leading lady, I know you had to work a lot on my character development, but you gotta admit, the end result is a masterpiece.

And for my parting words, I'd like to announce that we have been working on production for the past 9 months, and will be debuting our new masterpiece in the next couple of days. She's going to be a winner, this one. Even though I've only seen the first few edits only, I'm pretty sure the finished product is going to be a beauty. This will be the start of an epic film.

Daddy can't wait to meet you for the first time, babe."

The Guy's Guide To Rules Of Engagement : Chapter 2 - Species In The Kingdom Of Eve (Part A : Office Chicks)

There's just one thing that you need to know about women : That there's more than just one thing you need to know about women.

Women come in all shapes and sizes. Some symmetrical, mostly abstract. Some too big, some just nice enough, some with expiry dates, some longer and some shorter than others.

They are so uniquely individual that it's hard NOT to generalise them.

Observations of Eve's army can vary between cultures and geographical locations. And by virtue of being the melting pot of South East Asia, KL girls are as categorically unique as they come.

This guide is to serve as a handy reference tool on your next birdwatching trip, and conveniently covered by specific locations and scenarios, for easy referencing.

Part A : Office Chicks

- The Powersuit. Eats trainees for breakfast and shits them back out after her morning coffee and ciggie break just so that she can piss on them at exactly 5:28pm. Comes pre-attached with backstabbing knives mostly aimed at less stylish but hardworking female managers. Loves to have power lunches at Alexis or Lemon Garden 2 Go (Shang) with higher ranking male executives and willing to stuff a cigar in her mouth just to be one of the boys. Some have been known to be willing to stuff one of the boys' cigars in her mouth as well. Mostly dressed in black and carries cellphones that slide out with a loud "clack" sound effect. and likes to talk loudly with a lit cigarette (Marlboro Menthol Lights) stuck between her fingers, attached to arms that flail around in visually trying to prove her point to the other person on the line. Chinese ones are usually named Pearly or Arianna; Malay ones Marsila or Shirene, and Indian ones Anita or Geetha. Usually calls people "babes". Tapaus nasi lemak only for her posse of female powersuits, of which they secretly harbour dark and deep plans of outstabbing each other while they chat about which podium they danced on on Heritage Row last weekend.

- The Office Slut. Easy to spot. Easy to notice. Easy. Unlike your common slut, Office Sluts are a bit more focused in the direction of their skills. Ambitious to the point that she will usually want to be on top of everything important. Has no problems in riding it hard all way to the top. Highly adaptable to office environments and are able to work in the pantry, stairwell, staff lounge, toilets and nearby hotels if required. Usually wears clothes that look like their sewn to her body. Tapaus food from nasi campur stalls when the boss' wife is around. Office sluts usually has a medical condition which only allows their body to only bend more than 45% forward when setting documents on their boss' desk. Usually named Zaza, Nana, Lala, Zoey or Shiela.

- The Lonely Accountant. Usually bespectacled and sporting a hairband, spends lonely afternoons in her cubicle of fantasizing about magically transforming herself into a vixen with the flick of her glasses and a ruffle of her hairband-less hair, transfixing the jocks in the marketing department. Deems her collection of Mills and Boon stories as the ultimate porn and always has one stashed in her locked drawer for guilty reading pleasure sessions alone with her Pandan Kaya Bun and Spritzer. Usually called Cynthia, Mabel, Zanariah or Sheetal. Ultra Visible Panty Lines under her A line skirt or carrot cut pants. Revengeful during P&L meetings at the end of the year by subtly attempting to get Powersuits fired, but mostly friendly enough to go out for lunch outings with the Office Slut, while carefully observing and taking notes for her next internet role play webcam orgy session at home.

- The Awek Admin Dah Kawin. Usually Malay. Although married, constantly speaks about her ronggeng sessions with a male 'best friend' that the husband knows about, so don't worry. Usually seen kissing her husband's hand as she is being dropped off at the office, right before sneaking out her pack of cigarettes from her secret stash and kicking off the morning gossip for the day. Cleverly adapted names such as Arinz from Nor Sarinah or Kak Jam from Jamilah. Dyed haircolor. Calls other women "nyah", "mek" or "Nok". Uses key words like "That's mean" most of the time and is the center of nearly every political plot in the office. Interestingly enough, most people will trust her with information in exchange for everyone else's information. President of the office CNN (Cibai News Network) and has carefully recorded information on every boardmember's tryst with the Powersuits and Office Sluts, which she plans to use for a rainy day.

The Guy's Guide to Rules of Engagement : Chapter 1 - Clubbing

At any point in time, somewhere around the world a party is kickin. The music's pumping, the lines are getting longer, the crowd steadily throbbing to what looks like a crazy night ahead.

But how well prepared are you, my Y chromosomal compadre, in dealing with the intricacies of proper clubbing etiquette?

Whether the objective of the night is to hook up or drink up, get down or go down at the end of the night there are a few basic etiquettes to adhere to ensure that you pull it off with a touch of class and that much needed pizzazz....

Etiquette 1 : Entry

Never enter into a club with a pre-set dance move. Avoid announcing your entry with a badly choreographed dance move with your buddies while gesturing to hot women by snapping your fingers, winking and pointing at them seductively

Etiquette 2 : Finding a Parking Spot

If you don't have any reservations for a table, that means you have to find a suitable Parking Spot. If your posse comprises of 3 people or less, you are allowed to park yourself by the bar. By doing so, avoid standing around with hands in your pockets and leaning against the counter, facing the dancefloor. Keep yourselves looking busy by ordering drinks, pretending to chat about worldly topics while taking slow drags from your cigarette. While doing so you may subtly scour the bar area for potential hook ups. If you really need to check out the dancefloor, avoid standing in a row and making it a spectator sport. Best to keep your targets confined to the bar area first at this point. If you see anyone you like from across the bar, lift your drink and give a wink. This will be the first of your many winks for the night.

Etiquette 3 : A table is available

A table may be available by virtue of a friend who's booked in advance. Gain entry by nonchalantly ambling over to it and faking a surprised expression. Never walk over empty handed. At least have a drink in hand Once you've slipped into the group unnoticed, refrain from being the life of the party for the time being and gain acceptance by having serious conversations to people in the group.

Never scoop ice from the ice bucket with your hands at least until everyone has had their fourth of fifth drink and too sloshed to care. For the first few drinks, use the proper tools provided, no matter how tricky it is to use that bloody penyepit.

Etiquette 4 : The Wingman

The Wingman is an unwritten rule that must be honored between the brotherhood of man. Upon entering a club with your buddy, the designated Wingman for the night will be dependant on who hits on a hot chick first. For example, Buddy A and Buddy B turn up at a club, and Buddy A starts hitting on Hottie A. Hottie A is giving positive signals to Buddy A. But Hottie A has her best friend called Fattie B. Buddy B automatically assumes the Wingman position for the night. It is a Wingman's unquestionable duty to ensure that Buddy A's path of destruction is cleared for take off, with no obstacles by Fattie B. Fattie B will pose a big threat to Buddy A's chances. Examples of Fattie B's will usually inspect every drink offered by Buddy A by sniffing it out for date rape drugs and insistently think of every possible excuse to bring Hottie A safely back home.

In kamikaze like fashion, it is the Wingman's duty to distract Fattie B from becoming a nuisance. This may even lead to extreme situtaions such as actually pretending to hit on Fattie B amorously, to boost her self esteem and therefore divert her attention to her own chances of getting lucky. Wingmen may also end up taking a bullet for a brother by taking Fattie B's home for the night, which is considered the ultimate sacrifice. In return, the honorable sacrifice is forbidden to be mentioned, ever again.

Etiquette 5 : Quality Control

A good way of maintaining QC is by going to the toilet and washing your face every 15 minutes. Be mindful that the girl you were gyrating with on the dancefloor may look very different after a sobering up in the loo. This will ensure that you always keep yourself in check. Otherwise, should you notice that your friends are pointing at you and laughing, do a double take on your dancing partner just to be sure. If you notice a friend from your posse dancing with a giraffe or a hippo, it's in the best collective interest of the group that you flag him in and debrief him on his flailing mission status.

Etiquette 6 : The Sandwich

Being sandwiched by 2 girls on the dancefloor is allowed. Sandwiching a girl with your sweaty buddy is not.

Etiquette 7 : Attacking From The Flank

The need may arise to hit on a girl from another table. Try not to seduce her with stylish dance moves. Instead, make eye contact from across the sofa and call a waiter to pretend to order something. if you'e minted, go ahead and order a Moet. If strapped for cash, you can still pull it off by whispering another order of Coke mixer and end the order with a cool handshake with the waiter to suggest your status as a regular VIP. Do all that while having a lit cigarette skilfully balanced on your lips. As soon as you notice that you're noticed, amble over to her while pretentiously saying hello and kissing girls on the cheek as you pass them walking towards her.

Etiquette 8 : Podium Protocol

Never dance on the podium. Instead, go after the podium girls. Once you've positioned yourself right beneath her, never dance facing a podium girl. Always have your back to them, turning to face them at specific intervals to make eye contact. Pretend that you couldn't care less. Never form a group of worshippers at the base of the podium with your posse. Especially if you're trying to get her attention by dancing with other men.

Etiquette 9 : The Sneak Attack

You can perform a Sneak Attack by dancing back to back with the target, bumping every now and then to the beat. If she doesn't move away, swiftly turn 180 degrees and attempt the sneak attack by dancing with her from behind. In this position, try your best to avoid dancing with your hips in a thrusting motion.

Etiquette 10 : Toilet Tact

If there are 3 urinals in the toilet, and urinal no. 1 is occupied, never go for urinal no. 2. Always skip a urinal if others are available. It is law.

Etiquette 11 : Allow For Sufficient Lighting

Once you've hooked up with someone, allow sufficient lighting before going back together. In case you only find out too late that the zookeepers left the cage open earlier today, when the lights go on and the club is closing, you may require an exit plan.

Etiquette 12 : No One Gets Left Behind

Never leave a man down. Whether passed out at the urinal or unknowingly drunk in the clutches of a Giraffe impersonating to be a woman, it is every man's duty to ensure his posse leaves intact. Or at least with their modesty intact.

Good luck.

Letter To My Son (Part 2)

...continued from previous post.

College & Pre-University (locally, no doubt)

It's OK to drive your mom's old car to college. Chances are I won't be getting you your own car until you've started working anyway. If it's a giant creaking 4x4 you can always make fun of it in front of your friends and call it the "fun mobile". This will earn you points for being the cool guy that isn't afraid of making fun of himself. Earn more points by offering to drive hotties and bros out during lunch breaks. Always remember that the farther away you drive out for lunch and the later you come back into class after, more rebel points are awarded.

In college, everyday is a fashion catwalk for girls while guys will usually try their best to look like "I just threw this on. Fuck it. Fuck the man!". Again, more brownie points.

Never try to grow a ponytail.

At this stage, girls will be more interested in yuppies, while you can score brownie points with high school chicks. However, should you try to woo a college girl, try and find one who has her own apartment. Cause you sure as hell ain't gettin one yet. Make sure you have enough dosh to take out a college girl. They will want to go to the hottest clubs, drink Brandy and Coke and be driven around and seen in nice cars. You can solve the first 2 criterias by working part time in a McDonald's or something, but you still ain't getting a nice car.

You will be introduced to the world of clubbing. For this activity, you will require clubbing clothes. Do not try to get fashion cues from college friends with self-proclaimed names like Jared Kwok, G-garan (self-proclaimed by Gunasegaran) or Shaz (aka Mohd. Shahrizal bin Jabar). If you have a prosperously proportioned tummy, avoid tight shirts.

Since you won't be showered with cash at this age, before entering into a club, please refrain from pooling money and counting it over and over with your buddies right outside the entrance.

Only eat the steamboat on a stick thingy AFTER you have finished your clubbing. And if you're not sober, avoid eating there alone. You may have the tendency to talk rubbish to strangers.

If you were hitting on a girl, wait until you have exposed her to sufficient lighting before deciding to take it to another level.

Keep in touch with librarian and prefect female friends from back in high school. 40% of them may have already progressed and improved. Some may have just found their true calling and after doing really well in SPM, will view college life as a second chance at social life. If they turn out hot, you should be the first to know in the market. Others will wonder where they came from and where you've been hiding her all this while.

You will be going for late night supper sessions. Please do not be seen in a Kancil with 6 other passengers.

Do not try to grow a moustache.

Do not try to modify your mom's car.

You will want to think of a way to host a kick-ass house party. I will do my best to catch you in the act and kick your ass in front of your guests. Think this over carefully. If you succeed, well done. Only let me know at least 3-5 years later.

If you still have not made out with a girl at this age, focus on your studies instead. Hopefully you'll graduate with honors, get a job that pays well and hope for the best that some girl will want you for your money.

University and Overseas Life

The money I give you for your expenditures there will never be enough. Therefore I will deposit them into an account and break them up into multiple Fixed Deposits which matures in 3 months, 6 months, 9 months and every 3 monthly intervals so that you won't overspend your budget. Do NOT dig into these accounts prematurely and fake their certs using photoshop to pass to me when I ask to see them.

Should you run out of money, go work illegally in a Chinese restaurant with minimum wage.

If you end up working illegally in a Chinese restaurant, avoid picking a fight with the cook from Mainland China named Bobby.

Do NOT ask me for USD3000 dollars to buy a car and then buy a Geo Metro 1.0 for USD1,200 and spend the rest on paintball gear.

If you intend to rent out your room to a female friend when you go back for summer holidays, make sure you hide all your porn collection.

Do not have a long distance relationship. You'll end up having an affair with your left or right hand most of the time.

If you're driving long distance in wintertime, avoid playing the "hey let's stick our heads out form the sunroof and see who lasts the longest!" game.

Weed sessions - When it's time to stop taking another hit - When you think that the Doritos that you're eating are travelling in your bloodstream and you're screaming for it to stop.

Make friends with other Malaysian geeks from and Ivy League University nearby. Invite them to stay over during summer holidays. Volunteer to cook dinner and lace the food with weed and entertain yourselves with the results for the rest of the night.

Some Social Etiquettes To Consider

If you're getting lucky in a club toilet cubicle, avoid wearing highly recognizable shoes and stick your feet out from under the cubicle.

Never drink 'Round The World' or 'Graveyard Shift' cocktails prior to breaking up with a chick.

Never leave right after. At least have a smoke and a 5 minute conversation.

A woman treats her body like a temple. And expects you to be a devout worshipper. But remember that some places of worship are open to public.

In Summary...

In summary Son, I guess there's nothing much left to say. I can only leave you to be on your way with some final words of advice, and hope that should I not be there by the time you read this, you can at least refer to this guide when going through all those stages. For everything else that are not covered in this guide, figure it out yourself. You'll be fine as long as think with your head, and react with your heart.

Trouble will come your way. You can never run away from them. When it comes to you, dive right in head first. Because getting into trouble is usually the fun part.

Don't try too hard to stay out of trouble, Son. Outlast them.

Enjoy.

A Letter To My Son

Hey Son,

At the exact moment I'm typing out this letter, you haven't been born yet. In fact, you haven't even been conceived yet. We (your parents) are just a month away from delivering your big sister into the world, and at this point your mom doesn't even want to even think about making you yet.

But I guess it's never too soon to write a letter to you. Can't blame your old man for being such a boy scout, but you know, with all the 30 somethings dropping dead recently, I may just have a coronary after an ejaculation years from now or something and that would have ended up being you. Then I would eternally be responsible for whether you turned up screwed up in the head. Or not. And since you're carrying my genes, I ain't takin any chances, kid.

If I'm still around while you're reading this post, then feel free to ask me any additional questions or references. If you've just started to learn to read (which makes you about 5 or 6 I hope) and managed to get on to this site, don't tell your mother. And ONLY check with ME on certain words that you find in here that you're not sure about. When mom's not around.

So.

I wanted to write you this letter. As your guide in life. Because unless you're biologically structured to grow up gay, there are certain things that boys will inevitably do. You will find yourself in specific situations that are doomed to repeat themselves from generation to generation. This letter is meant to prepare you for those situations, either to keep you far away from harm, humiliation, pain and/or suffering.

These, son, are my guides to each of your life stages.

Kindergarten

Never pick a fight with the girls. They are usually bigger than boys at that age. And they would have already learned the meaning of travelling in packs. If you call them names, they will not retaliate as a solitary unit. They will gang up on you, and even beat you up. Once that happens, your end of the year concerts will never be the same again. You will be unpopular, and never be picked to be the teapot for the "I'm a little teapot, short and stout" scene.

Primary / Elementary School

If you have to wear glasses, please insist that your parent(s) get you frames that are in fashion. Do NOT listen to your mother when she says that the bigger the frame and lenses, the better you get to see. You may see better, but people wouldn't want to be seen with you. They will not pick you to be in the soccer team. They will not pick you to be on the hockey team. Instead, you will be on the ping pong and handball team. The ping pong team may not even have a budget to buy jerseys. You may end up having to wear the netball team jerseys. So choose your glasses carefully.

If you like a girl, don't get your friends to tell her and then avoid her for 3 years. You will find out one day the you'll have to chase them all your life. Better to get a headstart. Be careful of the hottest girl in primary school. They usually end up being sluts in high school (not so bad - invest early) and finally being fat, married early and running a laundromat after flunking college. Go for the cute ones. Especially prefects, since nice girls tend to grow up being more liberated and experimental in high school.

If your friend suggests that you try lighting up his dad's ciggarette, try not to. Chances are I'll find out anyway and whoop your ass. If you do, though, don't waste your time brushing your teeth 3 times and sucking on Hacks before me or your mom gets home coz we'll still know and whoop your ass harder for doing it, and tryinna hide it like an ass. Eat spicy food instead. And drink Lassi (as if your ass can afford one with the pocket money I'm giving you) What I won't know won't hurt me. Or you for that matter.

If you're thinking of joining the boy scouts, be careful who you sleep in a tent with. Most of them may turn out gay 10 years later. Focus your attention only on survival skills and how to pitch a tent. Make sure at this age none of your friends ask you to check out how they pitched their tents in their pants. If they do, kick them in the nuts, leave the boy scouts and go lift up a girls skirt as soon as you can. Your friends may mock you for joining the boy scouts, so counteract them by getting as many contacts with the girl guides as possible. You may need them 3-5 years later.

Do not accept any recommendations of being the class monitor. It's just a propaganda position where you'll only end up taking and sending the class attendance book from the teacher's room, announce the arrival and departure of each teacher in class, and you get to write names of noisy classmates on the blackboard. (x2 if theyre noisy twice!). You will be perceived as the teacher's pet and slaveboy, which will only make you try harder to be corrupt to be accepted by your peers. You'll start taking bribes for the list of names that go on or off that blackboard.

Never come to school with shoes that are too white. Make sure you don't make 'em too white when you kapur your kasut. If they are, scrape them around in the dirt a bit before going into school.

Never, ever pick on kids that are less fortunate than you. You may be an either a smartass or a jackass, but no son of mine is a pompous bastard with no heart. That's just lame. By all means pick on other kids who are pompous bastards.

Never start a fight. Always end one.

A girl will tell you she likes you. If you like her and she's hot, go ahead and announce it to the world. If she's not and you don't like her, don't be mean to her. Making fun of her in front of your friends just to maintain your cool is uncool. Be polite and decline. For one fine day she may grow up to be hot librarian or something. They will remember your kindness and double the returns if you're lucky.

Don't call up girls and ask them if they've grown any pubic hair yet.

High School

Don't be too dumb, but don't be too smart either. If you're too dumb, chances are most people will beat you up. If you're too smart, same thing. Be smart, but dumb it down a little. This way the freaks and geeks will help you with school, and the dudes and bros will help you with the cool. Be a friend to everyone, but know when to be with who and where and how. Study with the brainiacs after school, but roll with the boys for the rest of the time.

Never date a girl who's dated your buddy. This is illegal. You shall not go for sloppy seconds. Unless you manage to get to one base more than your buddy. If he got to second, you better go for third. If you plan to do this, make sure you're confident enough you can pull it off. If not, stay away and go after another.

Kiss and tell.

If you really need to experiment, only go for what mother nature provided. Nothing white, blue or capsulated. And for heaven's sakes, do it with class, and not out of something makeshift from a coke bottle and from a papaya tree. And not at some rempit locales like in the semak somewhere. Do it somewhere safe, where you won't do something stupid like cross a road or something. If by any chance you were doing it in a friend's house and his mom comes back early, avoid accepting her invitation for some snacks in the living room. You will act stupid and she will notice. And call your mom.

If your'e sleeping over at a friend's and plan to spy on his neighbor taking her clothes off, make sure the room you're spying from have the lights off, idiot.

If you're planning to sneak out his dad's or MY car, you may notice that the steering lock obstacle can be solved by getting an allen key and removing and reattaching the steering wheel. But you may forget about the mileage and gas metres, smartass. I will find out and you'll get your ass whooped.

Date at least 2 girls who are not from your school. You can lie more to your friends about them and it'll be harder for them to validate your claims.

If I forced you to take up tae kwon do in primary school, know that your "patterns" are no match for 15 mat rempits with helmets and kayu beluti's (very painful).

If you're gonna smoke with the boys in the toilet, try your best not to be last in line. The ciggie butt will be disgustingly soggy by the time it's your turn. You'll burn your fingers from the hot ciggie butt when you inhale.

Be friends with nerdy prefects or librarian girls. If you have been practising this since primary school, be patient and continue on...trust me you'll reap the benefits later on in life once the hotties have gone past their prime. You will understand the meaning of late bloomers and the wonders they are capable of in due time. For now, be friendly to everyone.

If you're gonna blow up a toilet appliance using a time-rigged explosive set to trigger during morning assembly, try not to laugh out the hardest or wave your hand in the air victoriously. You will be noticed.

One of the girls you know may be going through a lesbian phase. Find out who and maintain contact with her until you're in college. You'll thank me later.

To be continued....

Karma-Chameleon

An old friend suggested I write about Karma. Being a husband with a daughter coming soon in less that a month's time, I felt it provided the perfect setting to reflect on the terrifying concept of Karma.

If the Karma concept holds true, then the circle of life is basically a bad version of a horrific non-stop revolving door. Especially to those who lived their lives tending to stray as far away as the straight line as possible.

If the Karma concept holds true, then these are what I can expect:

1. My daughter will meet a guy at a club. He will be highlighting the fact that he works in advertising. She will be impressed. He will pull out his mobile and show her pictures of his nephew. She will gush with affection and assume he is a successful, cool yet sensitive bloke. While showing the pics on his phone, he will then ask her to guess how to spell his name. She will guess it wrong, and he will show her the correct spelling on his phone. Then she will ultimately be conned into giving her phone number, since he's got his phone out already anyway. They will date for 2-3 weeks and he won't call her again, ever. Bastard.

2. My daughter will meet a guy and date him for 2 weeks. After which he will invite her for a road trip up north with his group of friends for new years eve. He will end up getting pissed at the party, and his friends will leave him to sit on a chair facing a big dumpster while they have their post party supper at a mamak stall somewhere since he's too schlonked to eat. He will be a jackass for the rest of the trip. Upon returning to KL, he won;t call her again, ever. Bastard.

3. My daughter will fall for a guy and give him her fullest attention and care. He will be okay for the first few weeks, after which she will try to take it to another level and shower him with gifts and her undivided attention. He will get freaked out and won't call her again, ever. Bastard.

4. She will reconnect with an old friend from school, date him and have an open relationship, after being too giving from the last one. After a couple of months, he fails to show any sign of commitment and thinks the relationship is making the original friendship awkward. He will leave things open ended, and not call her again, ever. Bastard.

But then again, if the Karma concept holds true, the best I can do is pray and hope that some things do repeat itself:

1. She will ultimately learn to be stronger, smarter, wiser (there's a difference okay!) and kinder from all the crap

2. She may realise that an old friend is also her soul mate.

3. She'll meet a guy who'd sell his drum set and his car just to be married to her

So, while we always think that the Karma concept deserves the middle finger, it could also turn out not so bad in the end.

Hey, getting there is half the fun ain't it? Who am I to deprive her of that?

Bastard.

The Dynamics Of Sleazy Malay Businessmen

I was having dinner with The Wife in Bangsar tonight, tucked away at a table for 2.

Soon after ordering, a pair of twentysomethings sat at the table for 4 which was next to ours. One in a tudung, albeit her skinny jeans, hugging white blouse and "Haven't I seen you on YouTube at the stairwell scene?' face.

The other, which was a tad more interesting, was in your typical tight "designer" Guess? dress which obviously was more appropriate for marketing yourself on a bar countertop at Barbarran's back in 2001 than going to work in, which I assume was what she would attest to.

Anyways, I took a coupla glances before turning my attention to the over crispy garlic bread that The Wife had ordered, and more interested in what drama happened at her office for the day.

10 minutes later, 2 guys walked in, and stopped at our neighbor's. Initial scans revealed to me that they probably stopped at the wrong table as the Tittilating Twosome obviously had absolutely nothing in common with the Dynamic Dunces that were standing there.

And then I saw them.

Chunky man-bracelets. Vertically striped white and blue shirt with white collars. White pants. Poor excuse of a 5 o'clock shadow. Semi-mullet hair (just the back portion, long enough to reach their collars).

Malay businessmen!

Dinner appointment with the Tittilating Twosome, no doubt. I wonder what the wives were cooking at home. Loud hello's were exchanged, and they made themselves audibly comfortable next to ours, much to The Wife's discomfort.

With barely any effort required to eavesdrop, I heard nearly every word of their conversation. How was Jakarta? Pergi tak ajak...Eh, let's plan a trip again together this time! Oohh you ordered that Pasta? Just like the one we had in Italy eh? Mi Amore! (in thick Malay slang). Eh, cukup ke tempat ni? Alah...boleh tarik kerusi karang.

Uh-oh...

True enough, 2 other guests from the Principality Of Poyo-ness arrived, armed with the standard issue business powertools i.e. superphones, man-bracelet, bad combination of attire etc.

By this time, it had turned into a sleaze circus. "I saved the best seat for you BRO", says Italian Guy, patting the hottest real estate in town, which happens to be the seat next to "I'm NOT from Kampung Baru!" gal, who was digging in to her Mi Amore! pasta, giggling in the attention being showered.

Mullet-head slid in and fit like a glove and announced his entrance with a few jokes about how he got lost getting there, which erupted the whole table with nervous, anxious, over-compensating-due-to-horniness laughter.

These 4 men were in their mid to late thirties. Obviously married, and loved giving attention to young girls as much as they crave on getting some. Middle management. Dato' ass kissers no doubt, and pulling rank whenever they can. Probably saved up for an E46 3 series (coz the pussies love em!) while their wives are left to fend off daily traffic with their Avanzas or Myvis.

Which led me and The Wife to start breaking down the unmistakable dynamics of the Sleazy Malay Businessmen Posse.

You see, there are specific positions to each SMBP. Each one essential to the successful puntering of unsuspecting (or usually willing) Sapa Bilang Gadis Melayu Tak Menawan.

Usually there are 4 key positions to be filled up:

1. The Fixer - The Fixer is usually the least good looking of the lot. Personable, easy going, and harmless enough for girls to get to know him. The Fixer connects with females fairly easily, using his bad jokes, semi-gay persona to gain contacts, trust and ultimately, the appointment. Fixers usually comes early. To assess and warm up the crowd. Usually starts with loser comments like "Pasta! Just like the one I had in Italy! Mi Amore!". The Fixer is the bridge and the key to a successful night of tongue wagging and ego boosts.

2. The Nice Guy - Usually the first guy to be introduced by The Fixer to the victims. Nice Guy sometimes has a middle parting hair, does not wear a power tie, has a firm handshake even with females, and is polite. Nice Guy solidifies that the crowd to be will be of good company and discerning taste. Nice Guy also completes the fantasy that rich businessmen can also be nice businessmen, and oh please let him be single so I can quit my job at Topshop and be a trophy wife.

3. The Bad Guy - Dresses better than the first 2, sits with his legs wider apart and drinks beer straight from the bottle. Laughs ever so slightly and mostly maintains intense eye contact when a lady is talking. To someone else. Always thinks he's being looked at so Bad Guy fidgets with his phone a lot. Reading imaginary messages sent to him by that singer he just dumped. Shares photos of nude celebrities on his phone to his buddies, claiming how he conned them into posing post coital at a nearby 5 star hotel. Bad Guy will usually pique the interest of the untamed hearts of his unsuspecting (or again, 100% willing) sacrificial lambs. This is the guy that can screw you silly at Concorde and make it home in time with some fruits for dessert and time to watch Tom Tom Bak with his 2 kids.

4. The Silent Killah - Silent Killah moves in mysterious ways in the crowd. He who talks the least, is the most capable to unleash the beast....when the time comes. Usually the best dressed in the crowd. Probably speaks better English. Sometimes you can hardly hear the extra "s" in any of his sentences (refer to previous blog). Sits quitely at the table, as the less he speaks, the more handsome he is perceived to be. Usually earns a bit more that the Tyrannical Trio, to the point that it's borderline smug. Smug enough to project that he could or should be somewhere much more important, but has unselfishly graced this special occassion to turn up the class. Confident to the point that he is willing to show pictures of his cute kids on his iPhone, and still imply that he wants to sleep with you after dessert with the flinch of his presumably deep set eyes. TSK also usually picks up the tab, and while doing so, listens intently for gasps of awe as he charges it to his Maybankard Gold Credit Card (not long before I'm Platinum!). Usually loses out to Bad Guy at first dibs, but silent enough to attack for sloppy seconds unbeknownst to the rest of the Posse.

So there you have it, my take on the dynamics of my misguided peopleS. Yes, with an extra S.

And after paying the bill for our dinner, we left the Sleaze Circus to proceed into the night, with each performer dazzling each other, with the hopes of ending up with something tighter, fitter, louder,richer for the night. I hope they would at least tapau something for the missus and kids back home.

How to be a Malay businessman

Sometimes I feel a bit out of place in meetings. Most times, I try my best to blend in so as to not offend or even make the other party feel awkward. Most people would feel out of place in a circle or in front of a foreign audience.

I on the other hand, sometimes find it difficult to blend into my own kind.

So today, I decided to sit down and go through the changes that I may need to consider to extricate myself from who I think I am, and delve into the makings of the ultimate Malay businessman.

Step 1: Grow a moustache, or simply shave my moustache and grow a pubic like goatee.

Step 2: Get a phone carrier that attaches to my belt. The bulkier the better.

Step 3: Invest in a silver bracelet. The chunkier the better.

Step 4: Pluralise words whenever I can. Example - "May I helps you?"

Step 5: Use a brown belt with black leather shoes

Step 6: Wear torquise colored shiny slacks and match them with pastel colored shirts

Step 7: Buy another handphone

Step 8: Use ultra cool colored lanyards for my security pass

Step 9: Keep a golf set in the trunk of my car - always

Step 10: Set my ring tone to the latest Maroon 5 hit

I guess that's all for stage 1 of my transformation required. The second phase of my transformation will go deep into communication language, semantics and intonation and not to forget physical gestures.

Stay tuned.\