Kelantanese Chinese
Except for Mrs Lim, KB Guy and the couple at Sun Too Baru, the older generation of Kelantanese Chinese are generally weirdos and fairly dishonest.
I mean, they are REALLY funny type of Chinese-lah. Never before have a Chinese called me an “outsider”. I mean, get real man, Kelantanese. In KL, you are the outsider. But KL people are not like that ‘cos mostly people from out of town and also many KLians, who are very open. Even when I went to Penang for a brief period, don’t have this insider/outsider mentality only a Kelantanese Chinese will have. Penang ppl may speak Hokkien and have some clannish, island-pride thing going for them but they are generally warm, open and extrovert. Here, I dunno-lah. They are not Chinese I think. Anyway, some friends have warned me about this quaint Kelantanese trait.
And where got Chinese cheat Chinese on the West Coast one? Especially when asking for rental rates? In Penang, we paid RM300-400 for a flat, I paid RM100 for a room. Here some lady wanted to charge me RM1,400 but for a nice 3-bedroom-flat/apt in town. Another one wanted to charge me RM400 per room in town for a month.
Maybe they are a bit isolated?
Well most of the younglings have left. The older ones are probably even more conservative than the PAS ulamas?
Anyway, I’m going back to KL this morning to catch the action in the city.
Malays are actually better here. Though some also cheat me but it’s just different when a Chinese cheats a Chinese who is visiting from another part of Malaysia.
Remember, ppl in KL, ask if they are Chinese from Kelantan, then charge them TRIPLE OK! 
Do You Still Want A Pakatan Federal Govt With Anwar As PM?
Me? Not really. Some good ol’ BN peace and stability please.
Imagine Anwar running to some foreign embassy as prime minister for protection.
Imagine the endless soap operas released in installments.
Imagine Jeff Ooi as a Minister. WHOA!
HAIYOYOYOYO.
The Infallible Power Of Dengki
1. I am making an observation based on race as distinct cultural groups exist in Malaysia.
2. Comparing the current scenario with the Massacre of ‘69, I can say that dengki is the key motivator. Then, the Malays dengki the Chinese for having more, etc. Now, the Malays dengki the UMNOputeras (which includes the extended BN family) for having more, etc.
3. Dengki had sparked revolutions and wars worldwide throughout history and probably too in the microcosm of office politics.
4. I am not so sure if dengki plays such a main role in other cultural groups. Boasting, competitiveness and even jealousy but not dengki. I think dengki and its associated behaviourial responses should be addressed for society to progress.
What do you think?
What Is A Statutory Declaration Worth In Malaysia?
Yeah. I mean say only-mah, anyone also can say. Is it possible that pay $$$ also say more?
I don’t buy any of this Statutory Declaration c*** in Malaysia — telling the truth is not a Malaysian cultural norm.
Some Advice From Dr Rafick: Rioting, Will Make Things Worst
A “sermon” from Dr. Rafick:
Politics is never about the people in the streets. Politics is about power and position. No matters whoever goes up, the “real” interest is not the people but it is about power and position. No matter who wins in this power struggle, the people will not gain anything. Rioting will not bring any good to the people. It will make things worst.
My advice to everyone is to stay at home and watch a movie or spend time with their family. That is better. Even is Anwar goes up, he cannot do any miracle of the nation coffer is empty. He can only deliver his promises if he can find ways to increase the nation’s income. I believe any riots will reduce the nation income further. At the current moment, I have my doubt that Anwar can actually raise the nation income and deliver his promises to reduce the people cost of living.
Making promises is one thing and delivering what is being promised is another matter. Do not expect miracles at the time when the whole world is feeling the pinch of fuel speculators. I say it again, stay out of this fight between all power brokers. Do not give an excuse for the Federal Government to impose martial law and take over the governance of the five states. Think again, think hard and think rationally.
———————-
Have you had enough of politics, pals? I’ve had.
Anwar has asked for another chance. Many like me have given him one. And he has shown again that in his universe, he is still the most important person. In 1998, he brought chaos unto the country. Now, with his wild allegations determined to politically finish Najib Razak along with other destabilising events caused in the name of “transparency”, “rule of law”, etc prove to me that Anwar may not have the best interests of Malaysians at heart. If he does, would he so irresponsibly promise to reduce fuel prices?
Anal Sex, Every Man’s Fantasy?
Ha Ha Ha. Looks like FACT may be STRANGER than FICTION.
I have to agree with Rocky here when he blogged:
“Altantuya susceptible to anal intercourse”. I was hoping for solid evidence that would bring a closure to the Altantuya murder case. I am sure many Malaysians were hoping for the same, too.
Instead, I get another Statutory Declaration based on hearsay, a lot of hearsay. Ok, you get a lot in terms of entertainment value.
Who said the gruesomely murdered 28-year-old Mongolian translator was “susceptible to anal intercourse”? Allegedly our Casanova-lah, Najib Razak. Ziana, care to verify this? Rosmah? True?
I can see Rosmah’s possible response already: “Najib never asked for anal sex.”
HA HA HA HA HA.
A Novel - The Sodomite Prince - Episode 3
Akram sat on the bed, watching television in a hotel room. Some documentary on the Discovery Channel about insects that ate their mates. He was tired — dark rings hung beneath his bambi eyes, but his mind still livid from all that cocaine.
It’d been 50 hours 32 minutes 12 seconds, and counting, since he went public with his affair with Adam. It felt like eternity. One moment droned into the next. News of the affair repeated throughout the channels from the local networks to the BBC, Al-Jazeera and CNN.
He looked at his wife, lying asleep on the bed. Still beautiful at 35. His doctor that he had married and promised the world. What kind of man had he become or was? But he had always been gay. It was just something inside him. He’d stopped dressing up and putting on make-up. Cross-dressing was unbecoming of a Member of Parliament. What more the youngest parliamentarian to be elected when he was only 27, almost a decade ago.
For five years, he had stayed loyal to Marina since they wedded in a grand ceremony in the Four Seasons Hotel in Bali. Dignitaries, diplomats, politicians, society’s who’s who dolled up in Gucci, Fendi, Armani, Dior, Cartier, Bvlgari. It was her dream wedding. It was his too.
Their parents rejoiced at their union. Both families were in politics — Marina, a princess from the northern state of Yewopia and he, the son of a minister who had risen up through people power after the Revolution. “A match made in heaven”, newspapers’ headlines read. “Wedding of The Year”, The Tatler said on its cover. Television coverage, programmes before, during and after the wedding made it one of the most publicised event of the year.
But man proposes and God disposes, so the saying went. He had planned to stay faithful to her, never touching another man. It’s a past that he had tried to erase to survive in politics. He, Akram Rahman, the Islamist student leader who led the Islamic revival cannot be gay, not publicly. In his many rallies, he had cried in frenzied intoxication, “Sodomy is an abomination. Islam is the solution.” The crowds, many young Muslims donning serbans and headscarves, cheered along, “Islam is the solution. There is no other truth but Islam.”
All this changed when he met Adam, then in his 50s at a rally . Adam, a fiery speaker, had inspired many like him. The deposed but still loved politician prince had been released early after ten years in jail for sodomy upon Othman’s death. Ah, that dreaded word — “sodomy”. The monarchy had been destroyed but the monarchs still plotted revenge. Through “democracy”, that was what the Americans called it. “Democracy”, nothing more than systematic manipulation, a participatory theatre that deluded the masses into believing that they did have choices.
Adam had plucked Akram out from a sea of young, ambitious men and mentored him. More quickly than others, Akram had risen up the ranks of the Democratic Justice Party, which Adam spawned shortly after his release. Then a naive, bedazzled politician, he had followed Adam everywhere — to meet head of states from the US, Saudi, UK, Indonesia and more. With Adam, he had dined with the world’s elite. An elite that wished to see Adam in power.
“Reformation” was Adam’s calling card. “Islam” was the party’s solution to the country’s woes, including unemployment, inflation, poverty, education, drug addiction, single mothers, immigration, and eternal salvation, it seemed. That they drank copious amounts of the most expensive wines at cocktail parties in Kura-Kura, the country’s capital, and took billions from foreign superpowers to fund their campaign did not seem to contradict their beliefs. After all, villagers were stupid. And urbanites, selfish.
Akram walked to the glass-top coffee table and plonked himself on the sofa. He scooped some white powder from the small mount in the centre. He then went through the ritualistic and almost automatic motions of cutting the cocaine with his platinum credit card, issued by the government for MPs. He rolled a hundred US dollar note into a thin straw. “100 dollar bills are the best,” he absentmindedly reminded himself. Another press conference in two hours. He snorted the fine powder and put on some acid jazz — Jamiroquai. He needed this before he faced the media jackals in the morning.
To be continued…
Disclaimer: This work is entirely fictional and any resemblance to any real event or person is purely coincidental.
A Novel: The Sodomite Prince - Episode 2
“Did you rape the boy? What the fuck? Are you fucking crazy? We are supposed to kick Othman out!” Mookabee screeched on the phone, his hoarse voice cracking at points.
Adam was silent, sat on his imported Italian sofa, looking out his window into the jungle and the night sky.
“Can’t you keep your dick in your pants till later when you are crowned Emperor?”
Mookabee was powerful. And Adam needed him.
“Conspiracy. Again. Just like the last time,” Adam slowly said.
After murdering his parents, Prime Minister Othman Seedie had exposed his sex romps with both men and women. He lost his throne and the support of the people. The rest of the monarchy were disgracefully thrown out of the palace that they’ve ruled from for the past five hundred years.
It’s been 20 years now. He is no longer smooth skinned as before. But still suave with a boyish charm.
Seeing his parents beheaded before his eyes had hardened his resolve to avenge them. Then, he had escaped and fought the revolt. Hundreds of thousands were slained. And he had emerged victorious.
Till Othman’s men exposed his sexual misdeeds, a crime in Muslim Mimbabwe. More damagingly, a deed looked upon with disgust by the masses.
But he had maintained his innocence in public, lying to the people. And called the allegations part of a conspiracy to eject him from power.
Now, the people had forgiven him. And forgotten, mostly.
Then he met Akram. It’d been so long since he had felt love like he did with him.
“Conspiracy?” Mookabee yelled.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. I’ll explain in a meeting tomorrow. Ask your people to meet me at The Ritz at 9am.”
Click.
Silence again.
Oh, Akram. Why did you do this to me?
To be continued…
Disclaimer: This work is entirely fictional and any resemblance to any real event or person is purely coincidental.
A Novel: The Sodomite Prince - Episode 1
“It’s happened again. Darn. I thought we were in love.”
Adam paced the room. Thoughts pounding his head. Alone. He had just finished a meeting with the party’s top leaders, discussing plans to topple the ruling government.
“Capitalism. Bleh. What has it done for our country?”
The military was to move in a few days, after National Day celebrations. He had assured them of money and more power. Money from his chief backers. Power from him.
Then this problem. A perennial one.
“I am Muslim. But I am also bi-sexual.”
The phone rings. It’s General Mookabee.
To be continued…
Disclaimer: This work is entirely fictional and any resemblance to any real event or person is purely coincidental.
Musical Mood: J-Pop - Renai Revolution 21 By Morning Museum
A pal, a bloke, sent this to me.
Mostly a bunch of cutie Jap gals jumping about. A much needed break from “Drama Prima Anwar”…
