Five things I miss most about Chinese New Year

While Chun See reminisces and muses about the five things he would not miss about Chinese New Year (CNY), I thought the sentimental fool in me would do just the opposite. Here are the five things I miss most about the CNY of yesteryear.

• My childhood home at Club Street.
  This is the Headquarters. All my relatives - uncles and aunts, cousins, nieces and nephews would gather at this "checkpoint" on the first day of the New Year. It was obvious why we called our home at Club Street the HQ - simply because the matriarch of our extended family, my paternal grandmother lived there. Everyone one, young and old, would come to pay her respect (and get angpow) on the first day of the New Year. She passed on in the late 80s, and for a while, there was no HQ for gathering. Subsequently, my first aunt's home at Holland Drive was assigned the new HQ. But she too passed on several years ago. Today, the new HQ is at one of my cousin's house at King's Road, also somewhere near Holland Drive.
  
  
• My pajamas
  Call me silly, but when I was a young boy, I used to love wearing pajamas to bed (now no lah, juz a pair of shorts and bare-chested). On the eve of CNY, my mum would made us kids wear new pajamas she bought from the market. Oh, I'm sure you know those pajamas. It's those stripe-pattern pajamas with pull-strings pants normally worn by Ah Peks. But because we were kids, mum usually got us the elastic-band type. What's the significance of wearing new pajamas on the eve? I dun think kids these days, especially the boys, wear pajamas. My boys certainly don't.
  
  
• Gambling
  Yes, believe it or not, we kids were allowed to gamble during CNY, not with peanuts or sweets, mind you. We gambled using real money from our angpow. But the stakes, in this instance, are really peanuts - each round only could bet no more than 10 cents. But we have supervision from our parents, who told us that we could only play the cards (another phrase for gambling, heheh) on CNY. They must have imparted us the right value lor. Why? None of us kids turned into gambling addicts, my 4-D and lottery "addiction" aside. Hehehehe...
  
  
• Angpow
  Of course, children are the happiest creatures on earth comes CNY. They can indulge in all the cookies, sweets and soft-drink all day, and mums would not bat an eye-lid. What's more, they get lots and lots of angpow or red pockets. When I was a kid, the angpow my siblings and I collected could hit at least $200 each. We would compare and see which one of us got the highest amount. Now, I dun get angpow anymore, which is fine. But what is not so fine is that I now must GIVE angpow to every kid who crosses my path, even total strangers whom I meet at my relative's house. Not fair one. LOL.
  
  
• Firecrackers
  When the gahmen banned firecrackers, somehow, much of the spirit of CNY also disappeared along with the ban. One of my aunts who stayed in the same building at Club Street hawked firecrackers, so I sort of have free "supply" of firecrackers to play with on CNY. One of the favorite pastimes of us kids then were to quietly sneaked up behind an unsuspecting neighborhood kid with a "rocket" fire-crackers, lit it up, and startled the kid out of his pants when the firecracker "erupted" with a loud bang, leaving some of them in tears. Yes, we were a bunch of sadists, but hey, we were juz kids... LOL
  

Well, so much for the CNY memories. Yesterday, the first day of CNY, was a flurry of visitations. One of our stops was at the Slim Lady's grandma's at Yishun where we stopped for lunch. I've noticed, year after year, that granny always indulges us with nothing but meat on her dinning table. Can someone tell me what's the significance of eating meat on CNY?


Oh, and here's a shot of my mum's popiah. Sorry if I'm beginning to sound like a broken record on my entries on popiah. I know I've blogged about my mum's popiah in a number of entries already - here, there and everywhere. But I'm really a sucker on this dish! Yum!

Victor, come my house lah. Doesn't the popiah look yummy? Dun say I neber invite you hor.

LOL.

Category: Yesteryear

新年快乐

One of the best things I like about Chinese New Year is the Reunion Dinner. It's a custom of family togetherness and rekindling of family ties. In my extended family, we have steamboat every year, at my parents'. Look at the spread we juz had, taken with my camera-phone, of course.



Each year during CNY, my mum would also cook popiah for all her visitors. Her popiah is simply the best! Can't wait to sample them tomorrow ....slurp...

祝大家新年快乐！

Category: Family

Club Street revisited

Ever since I became a proud owner of a camera-phone, lunch with my lunch kaki has taken on a new meaning. To put it simply, I've become quite trigger happy with my new found toy. And at times, perilously so (more about this in another post).

While having lunch with Victor and Moogee at Maxwell Market last week, I couldn't help but reach for my camera-phone to snap some shots of my favorite foodstall.



Of course, this is the famous 五香贯胀 of China Street, juz a stone's throw away from Club Stree where I grew up. I practically grew up eating these stuff back in the 70s and 80s. My Dad loves the ngor hiang and the guan chiang from this stall. And so do I. The variety sold here are very different from the "chunky" ones you find in foodstalls elsewhere, both in taste and in appearance. I love the egg slice here. It's second to none in Singapore.

Each time I'm at Maxwell Market, if I'm not having them for lunch, I would tapau them for dinner. And I've been there at least twice for lunch with Victor and Moogee the past two weeks. I never grow tired of eating these stuff!


One our way back to the office, I asked Victor if he could kindly detour to Club Street. The sentimental fool in me wanna take a look at the place where I grew up and to zap a photo or two of the building which has been preserved by the gahmen. Bless his soul, Victor very kindly obliged, but not before giving me an assignment by saying, "Take the photos already better blog about it!" See lah? There's no such thing as a free lunch. Victor never misses a chance to remind me that!

Anyway, before I knew it, we were at the carpark in front of what used to be my childhood playground - my childhood home which I've blogged about it sometime back! See how it has been transformed....

Club Street today

Club Street in the 70s/80s. The blue arrow is where my family used to stayed, while the 2nd floor and the ground floor were occupied by my granny, aunts and uncles

See what a camera-phone can do to you? It draws out the sentimental fool in me and put me in a nostalgic mood. I've got more photos in my phone waiting to be blogged!

Category: Yesteryear

What Valentine's Day?

I've been called a Romeo, a dreamy Romeo. If only the Slim Lady is anything like Juliet.

Sorry to disappoint you buddies, but no, I'm no Romeo. Why? Because a man can only be called a Romeo if the centre of his affection knows how to reciprocate his gesture or expression of love.

You can say the Slim Lady is one HELL of a special lady. She has no time for Valentine's Day. She couldn't care less for chocolates, candy, teddy bears, diamond, nor candle-lit dinner. Valentine's Day, to her, is but a ploy by various commercial establishments to rip money out of us consumers and take us for fools. Why? For the sake of love, I'm willing to play the fool once a year. Cannot meh? Her notion of a Valentine's celebration is to stay at home, coaching Junior in his studies, and nothing more.

I picked up some flowers (from the florist, not roadside hor) today on my way home after work for my special lady. As I entered the house, I could hear her nagging at Junior for not doing his school work properly. I walked into the study room, surprised her with the flowers and blurted out, "Happy Valentine's Day, Dear!"

She looked up from the study desk and gave me the kind of look she would probably reserve for someone who has run loose from the Institue of Mental Health. "Why you go waste money like that! You nuts or what?" she actually raised her voice. "I told you already, dun spend this kind of money! Why dun you give me the money instead!"

Well, she used to say something like that each year on 14 Feb, but never so "vocal". Neither had she sounded so angry before when I gave her flowers all these years. What's with her? Did I catch her on the wrong time when she was lecturing Junior? Or, has the passion really faded, after 18 years of marriage?

My female colleagues are wrong - dead wrong. NOT ALL women love flowers. I'm convinced.

Valentine's Day? What Valentine's Day? To me, it has all the excitement of a morgue....

Juz go away. I'm on a women-banging bashing mood now.

Category: Family

Snap!

I don't care anymore. I've bought myself a camera phone. And nobody, not even the gods in the office, are gonna sway me.

See, for reasons I've no wish to dwell into, my office, like some private firms, has banned the use of camera phones. Awww... come on. In this time and age, only people living in the Stone Age carry phones that only function as, well, a phone. How could the IT-savvy me, as claimed by Victor, be seen carrying a basic phone? I have a reputation to uphold, you know.

I understand the rationale behind the ban. But dammit! I wanna a camera-phone! I want, I want!

Thankfully, the gods who banned camera phones are not beyond reasons. Perhaps it has finally dawned on them that technology is here to stay and that it's better to keep up with technology instead of forever living in the Stone Age.

No, the possession of the camera-phones in the office premises is still against regulations, and rightly so. But happily, security boxes (like the safe boxes found in commercial banks) have been erected at the office atrium. The onus is on officers with camera-phones to deposit their gadgets into the boxes before entering into their office. It’s an OMO operation and is absolutely hassle-free. You choose any of the available empty boxes, throw your stuff in, lock it and keep the key. You could draw the phone while out for lunch, deposit it back later and then collect the phone on your way out when you’re done for the day.

Of course, people who are IT-idiot find this a bother. Victor, for one, said he would see if I could keep up with this practice of depositing my phone at the atrium. I told him it's a small inconvenience to pay for the spontaneity I enjoy with my new camera-phone. The camera-phone makes blogging so much easier and more fun. If you spotted anything that catches your fancy or worth blogging, you juz reach for you camera-phone and simply snap! Of course, the picture resolution might not be as good as a normal camera, but if it's juz for blogging, a tech geek would tell you that a 2-megapixal camera-phone is more than sufficient to do a decent job. Here’s one shot with my new toy. Not too bad, huh?



Besides, I don't want to be seen lugging a camera around my neck like some goon, looking like a tourist in Singapore. No wonder he almost got beaten up by some madman at Mohamad Ali Lane.

LOL.

Category: Musings

What does Ivy want? Really?

You'd remember attractive and wealthy Ms Ivy Lee.

Months ago, dating agencies reportedly shut their doors at her face. Reason? She was considered too old at 42. Men only have eyes for SYTs.

After her story was published in the Sunday Times, about 100 men reportedly wrote in and asked to meet her.

Happily for her, she got hooked up with a 46-year-old widower. But unhappily for her, they have since parted ways. She cited "personal reasons" for the breakup. When asked about the "database" of the over 100 suitors, Ms Lee reportedly said that she "did not have the time to go through each and every e-mail in detail".

Well, that juz about sums up Ivy's attitude in her quest for love. No time? Then why bother looking for a mate in the first place? Love, as we know, takes time. If you have no time to sieve out the man of your dream, one wonders if you'd have the time to nurture love at all.

Sorry Ivy honey, no, you can't have your cake, and eat it too.

Category: Musings

Once there was a girl, the prettiest in the line ...

The girl needs no introduction, of course.

She was (still is) a nurse. I was a soldier.

She was the sister of a friend. And I was a friend of her sister.

She had her suitors who drove big cars, and who wooed her with flowers and brought her to posh and fancy restaurants. I had nothing and nobody; but was looking for love (in all the wrong places, as Johnny Lee would have sung).

As Cupid would have it, she only had eyes for me.

She asked me out for a movie. "I've bought the tickets," she called one day. I remember the name of the movie and the cinema - "Stand By Me". We planned to meet at the now defunct Orchard Theatre.

When I reached the Cinema, she was already waiting for me, her hands full with a McDonald's paper bag, stuffed with fries and McChicken.

She said the bespectacled me was kinda cute and she loved my loving nature. I thought she was demure, sweet as sugar and I liked it that she seemed to have "no-temper". We fell in love. And got married. I thought our marriage was made in heaven. The honeymoon was so sweet; but how soon it flew!

Of course, after almost 18 years of being "enslaved" to each other, we know better then believing in marriages made in heaven. She actually has quite a temper, which had been lying dormant. She tricked me! But our married life is typical of most couples - we love, we bicker, we scream at each other, kiss and make up. Couples who said they do not squabble are either not telling the truth, or they're simply not communicating.

She's a lovely wife (she does not fancy diamond or credit cards), and a good mom (she knows how to handle the kids to make them seen, and not heard). But no matter how hot and steamy a relationship is, passion does, unfortunately, fade with time (no?). There are times she made me darned mad with her unreasonable behavior (aren't most women like that?). I reminded her that I AM THE HEAD OF THE HOUSE. She added, "Well, then I'm the neck that controls the head!" How does a man respond to that? I was left speechless.

But I love her, I really do. But there are times when I juz feel like, you know, strangling her, making her see things from my point of view.

Truth is, nothing quite prepared us for what lied ahead when we took the plunge. When we registered our marriage at the ROM, we weren't given any instruction manual like "An Idiot's Guide to being a Perfect Spouse" nor "Parenthood Made Easy". Weren't most married couples like us? We simply dived into this institution called marriage, haplessly and without much clues as to what it takes to make a good husband or a good wife.

But hey, all is not lost. Maybe what I need is juz a little guidance from the love gurus on how to treat and love your woman better. (Darned! The only person whom I thought is an expert on love is currently in a men-bashing mood). But I spotted a book at Times, the bookshop the other day, that might juz do the trick! "The Five Love Languages - how to Express Heartfelt Commitment to Your Mate. Men’s Edition" by Gary Chapman seems juz like what I need to fix my wife make me more aware of what my wife really needs...



I flipped through the book. It does look promising with chapters like:

• What Happens to Love After the Wedding?
  
• Keeping the Love Tank Full
  
• Love Language - Acts of Service
  

No, this entry is not a prelude to that V day much dreaded by us men. Lucky for me, the Slim Lady doesn't believe in Valentine's Day either. She used to say it's a total waste of money to buy flowers. My female friends told me that's crap. ALL women from age 2-92 luuurrrvve flowers.

Let's see what Mr Gary Chapman has to say about that .....

Category: Musings

A brand new look

I thought I'd give my blog a brand new look. Victor would have said my "backside itchy" nothing better do, is it? Ya, I guess I am... on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Anyway, once in a while, I'd let my "creative juice" flow and juz fiddle with my blog... trying to give it a new "outfit". Anyway, the blog is mine, I do and write what I want. Nobody can argue with that.

But no, nobody has died... in case you're wondering why the dark and moody background. It's the best colour to hide the imperfection of the photo I took in Down Under and which has undergone some kinda artistic transformation with the aid of photoshop.

I juz can't seem to get the photo in line with the main body of the blog... The edges are a little crude, I think... But than again... it's my blog. Hahaha..

My new tag - 人生如戏，戏如人生。Sometimes, life is stranger then fiction, don't you agree?

And that song in the background - Shape of My Heart by Sting. I'm not really a fan of Sting, but I heard this song while watching "The Professional" on DVD and I juz fell in love with the Lolita song... So, I went out to buy the CD straight away! Movies made us men do the darnest things!

Category: Musings

Man's three greatest fears

It's been said that a man has three great fears:

• Fear of dying
  
• Fear of presentation or public speaking
  
• Fear of dying while giving the presentation
  

I chuckled alound when I first read this. But shucks, I've been told to give a presentation to the BIG boss scheduled for 27 Feb. Darned! Whatever mood I have for CNY is gone! This time kena arrowed and really a tokong one some more!

The thing is, I'm not even supposed to be the one giving this presentation. This should be the job for someone marked for promotion this year. I tried to tolak this assignment to someone else. But alas, the management seems to have more confidence in me.... never mind that I was recently promoted ....

Oh well, I suppose I should take this all positively, and should really see it as a compliment. Yeah, I should think of creative ways to CAPITALISE on such rare given opportunity hor? After all, how often do I get to interact with the BIG BOSS? I could rub shoulders with the big boss. Juz shoulders, and nothing more hor ..... and tell him what I REALLY think of the office (and him) .... hmmmm.... and why some people dislike CS so much.

But I still HATE giving presentation.

Dammit.

Category: Musings

The day the washer died

It's been acting rather quirky of late.

First, it gave off a rubber smell whenever it got into a spin. Then, over the weekend, it got nasty, behaving like a prima donna, acting as if it had a mind of its own. It began to leak and "piss" all over the spot where it has stood faithfully for the past six years.


I'm talking about my washing machine, of course. When the machine broke, I contacted Mr Fix-it for some advice. I asked if he had any lobang for a washing machine servicemen. That man took a day to answer my sms, and only to tell me to get a new machine when he learned that the one I have back home is almost a museum artefact.

I wish money could juz grow on the money plant in my balcony. Maybe the the problem is as simple as replacing a loose screw? Who knows? Anyway, Mr Fix-it finally gave me a number he found in one of the flyers in his mailbox. It's one of those "fly-by-night" operators going round our heartlands making a killing out of the pockets of the ill-informed or igorant heatlanders. As a parting shot, Mr Fix-it wrote: "use@ownrisk".

At my wits end, I called the number. And the man said he would turn up today. Well, the man came, the man tried to fix the washer and the man gave up. He told me to call the agent, saying that the condition of the washer is pretty grave (or was the tool man complaining about his tools?) Anyway, I called the agent for an appointment scheduled tomorrow. But in the mean time, I juz have to do something to the laundry which is piling up!

Man, it's tough when your washer died on you. Trust me; you could survive without a fridge (well, you juz have to store them in your stomach), the air-con (juz sleep in your birthday suit) or the television (there's always the Net), but you juz can't do without a washing machine, for you'd soon realise that you'd run out of clothes to wear. Not unless you resort to washing your clothes the old-fashion way, like what our mothers used to do in the past, when the washing machine was a luxury only the well-heeled could afford. Yes, you hand wash them, like what I did today!

This is no joke, I tell ya, squatting in the toilet, body all bent scrubbing the dirty collars of the shirts, especially those darned white school uniform of my son! (Now I appreciate my mom more!) You need pails and pails of water, rinsing the clothes back and forth several times. The worst part of the ordeal is having to wring the clothes dry. And that requires lots of effort and strength.



That's not the end of the woes, though. After the clothes have been washed, you've got another worry. Where are you gonna hang out the clothes to dry? Now, no matter how hard you manually wring the clothes, it would never be as dry as those done by the washing machine. So, if I were to hang them out of the windows, I'm sure the water would soon start to drip onto the neigbhours’ clothes below, and I've no intention to be like the neigbhour from hell upstairs who has no qualms whatsoever putting out her wet and dripping clothes out of her windows, regardless or not if the people living below her are drying their clothes.

Well, I really haven't much of a choice. The only thing to do is to wring the clothes, let them "stand" in a pail for an hour or so, hang them up on the poles and put up the poles on the pole-hangers WITHIN THE HOUSE, and when they are no longer dripping wet, hang them out at the windows. See how considerate I am?

And what did I get in return? Another heap of clothes waiting to be "hand-washed". Sigh .....



Category: Musings

The agile Monkey ponders ..........

How To Draw A Table
The agile Monkey	ponders	how to draw a box
So the proud Dragon	kindly shows	the old Monkey how
You either start with MS word	Or the HTML tags	Either way, it's a piece of cake
But don't ask the Dragon how is it so	He's got no clue	for the space between the title and the box
Old Monkey, you go figure

Are we not all sons of Singapore?

When you read something headlined "Even NS can wait for Olympic gold" in one of the local papers, you can't help but felt a sense of injustice for Melvyn Tan and Ike See. The former, a local-born pianist made good overseas but who got flak from fellow citizens when news leaked out that he was fined a mere $5000 for not serving his NS liability; the latter, a child music prodigy accepted by prestigious Curtis Institute for a 3-year Bachelor of Music degree but had his earlier requests for NS deferment turned down TWICE by MINDEF.

Gimme a break. What are they saying? That in the pursuit of that elusive Olympic gold, there's nothing that we won't do for you. Yes, we would defer your NS, give you the sun and the moon, anything - just like how we gave you our top sports men and women who are largely foreign imports. Who are we kidding?

International arts hub? Singapore?

Dream on. Not even the Durian made the cut.

Category: Musings

As happy as gay can be

In the days
That seem so far away
You were just being happy
When you said you were gay

In this age
Of political correctness
People think you're queer
If gay's the word you uttered

Victor's grouses against MJM, our fellow colleague is understandable. That chap is a real pain in the ass... (oh... not THAT word again..)

Sometime last year, both Victor and I received an email from MJM in the office.

The email contains an article about how a Singaporean couple, both doctors, learned of their two sons' homosexuality, from their sons, no less. The father was understandably devastated. Though he continued to love and support the boys, he was disappointed. Three years later, he divorced the wife, remarried and told her: ‘Good. Now that I have the chance to marry another woman, maybe my future children will not be gay.’

But the wife, Dr Khoo Hoon Eng, was made of steelier stuff. When she first learned that both her boys were gay, her main concern was that they would face a life of prejudices. She also realised that their confession does not necessarily mean that they are sexually active. Dr Khoo later became one of the founders for SAFE Singapore (Supporting, AFfirming and Empowering our LGBTQ [Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender And Questioning] friends and family), a support group to help parents to cope with gay kids.

Now, why did MJM send that article to Vic and I? The answer is simple. It's because both Vic and I have two sons. Er... no we aren't gay and we aren't married to each other ... Let me rephrase that ... It was because both Victor and I are fathers of two boys ...(ya, I think that sounds better and clearer...) MJM has no son but three daughters. To put it simply, he was gloating about what can happen to boys in a "twist of nature". How nice, I'd thought, to have colleagues who are so concerned if your off-springs would turn out gay! Though I don't see how it's any of their damn bloody business.....

Usually, I have no time for bigoted and homophobic people like MJM. But I thought I should educate him on the existence of the gays of the other gender - the lesbians. And I asked him, would he abandon his daughters if they turn out gay?

I remember watching an episode of Desperate Housewives (looking out for Eva Longoria; she’s a babe! See? Told you I'm straight). One of the housewives, Bree, has a son, Andrew, who is gay, and who did not see eye to eye with his mother in most things. He had blamed her for his father's death. To spite her, Andrew slept with Bree's lover (yeah.. it's all very complicated I must say).

One day, on the pretext of going somewhere (sorry, I can't remember where), Bree told Andrew to get into a car. Then, after driving for a while, Bree stopped the car at some remote part of the country, threw a luggage at Andrew and asked him to get off. Andrew begged his mom not to desert him. With a icy look in her face, Bree told Andrew that she just couldn't handle him anymore, and that she has to let him go.

As she drove off, she was crying with an anguished look on her face, stealing glances at her son from the rear mirror. That was one of the most poignant scences I've seen on TV in a long time.

Now, Bree was not abandoning Andrew because he was gay. She did so, because of Andrew's spitefulness against her. There's no mistake about her love for her son, even as she drove off.

I always teach my kids, that we should accept the way same people are. Sure, there're a lot of debates as to whether homosexuality is nurtured or in-born. Some say it's a life-style by choice. Others say, well, it's juz like how some people are born left-handed. We'll leave that to the scientists. But, my point is that we shouldn't be too quick to judge on people, either by race, colour of their skin, religion, and yes, sexual orientation.

So, would I abandon my boys if they turn out gay? It's extremely difficult, especially coming from an Asian culture. But, my answer is a definite NO.

Would you?

But I feel sorry for MJM's daughters, though.

Category: Musings

Kidney for sale. Price negotiable

Dr Lee Wei Ling's letter in the ST on why foreigners in Singapore should not be denied a chance at organ transplant appears noble at first. Yes, why shouldn't the foreigners here be given a second chance at life? Are they lesser human than we Singaporeans and PRs?

But she lost me totally, when she advocated lifting the ban on organ trading. Calling the ban "irrational", she argued that a person (presumably a foreigner) should be allowed to pay for an organ transplant, so long as Singaporeans and PRs take precedent over foreigners. It does not matter, she continues, whether money changes hands or not. The main issue here is that a life is saved. So, in future, if we're in need of money, we can offer our body parts for sales. What? Eyeing at that 42-inch plasma TV and no cash? No problem, just offer one of your kidneys.

Of course, Dr Lee, who is never shy of controversies, is entitled to her view, which I find rather simplistic, especially coming from the head of the National Neuroscience Institute. If the ban is indeed lifted, who's to ensure that the system would not be abused, unless some sort of legislation is put in place to prevent the abuse. Even with legislation, I think it would be difficult to re-enforce. Organs are in high demand. If there's a demand, there's always a supply. And, sadly, the supply would come from the people in the lower strata of our society. Who's to stop them from selling their blood, kidneys or part of their livers to put food on the dining table? It's difficult for someone who's never been poor or who's born with a silver spoon in his or her mouth to truly understand the desperate measures the poor would take to make ends meet.

In my opinion, organ trading is just ethically wrong. We are not some red or white meat that we could buy off the shelves at the supermarkets. I think we human deserve better than that.

The ban should stay put.

Category: Musings

Aiyeeeh! So dirty!

WARNING: This entry contains mature theme. Minors please go away ....



This is a magazine. A health magazine. A family-oriented magazine.

Oh, did I forget to mention it's a Singapore magazine, approved by the gahmen (MITA?) and meant to be read by Singaporeans?

Now, what makes this magazine stand out from the other locally produced magazines, like 8-days, Her World and FHM? What's so special about this magazine? Anne Kok, the has-been? (Hmmm... nice dimples, though).

When I found this magazine at my brother's house, I took it home with the intention to show to the Slim Lady. No, I told myself she juz had to read this magazine, at least this issue.

So, I left it on the coffee table, hoping that Ann Kok, or something else would catch her attention.

She didn’t take the bait. She's no fan of Ann, and neither am I. The story would have been different if Korean hunky star Kwong San Woo had been on the cover page. She, fan of Korean TV drama would have lapped it all up, and caught that contentious article I so wanted her to read. Well, truth is, since the school term started, she's been so pre-occupied with the kids, with their school works, with household chores, in fact, with everything BUT the husband.

So, while watching TV after the kids have settled, I asked her. "Eh, did you read that magazine on the coffee table?"

"No lah, where got time?" she said.

"Aiyah, there's a very interesting article in that issue leh," I was eager to share.

"Is it? What about?" she asked, eyes glued on the TV.

"Well, there's an article called "Oral Sex Is Safer", I said, trying to arouse her, I meant her interest.

"Aiyeh... so dirty!" the Slim Lady reacted.

Now, you must remember, if you've been following my blog, that the Slim Lady is a nurse by profession. No, I don't have a fetish for women in uniform. The fact that she is a nurse and happened to by my wife is purely coincidental. But to a nurse, ANYTHING that is "out of the norm" is "dirty". Who decides what's the norm and what's not anyway?

Are you blushing? Is that too much information? Okay, I shall spare you the details of my SEX life (I'm not the male equivalent of the SPG, after all). Let's turn our attention to this article in question, or rather, the author of that article.

That writer, by the name of Edmun Wee, must have balls as big as coconuts. Hello? Is he NOT aware that oral sex is outlawed in Singapore? Even if it's consensual and performed in the privacy of one's home? The Singapore Penal Code, Chapter XVI (Offences Affecting the Human Body), Section 377 (Cap. 224) states that:

Whoever voluntarily has carnal intercourse against the order of nature with any man, woman or animals, shall be punished with imprisonment for life, or with imprisonment for a term which may extend to 10 years, and shall also be liable to fine.
Explanation. Penetration is sufficient to constitute the carnal intercourse necessary to the offence described in this section.

For the longest time, we Singaporeans have been the butt of joke in the world stage when it comes to 69, Victor's favourite number. The oral (and anal, yucks!) sex prohibitions have been the subject of controversy since the court of appeal ruled in 1997 that oral sex is a crime except when it is prelude to intercourse between a man and woman.

Just who are we kidding? Do the authorities assume that men and women only have sex, missionary style? Dun be such a prude! (Which is what I told the Slim Lady, exactly!)

So, it was with great delight to many people (not that they give a damn anyway since many of them are already doing it), the gahmen has announced late last year that it is looking into amending some of the penal codes that have been with us since colonial days, including Section 377.

But until that becomes a reality, I think it's still too early for an article to advocate the practice of oral sex, and so blatantly in a family magazine. Edmund Wee, the writer of that article, as I said, must have had balls as big as coconuts. My eyes almost popped out when I read that article, especially in a place as asexual as Singapore (Don't forget, we ranked no 2 in a survey on folks who frequently made love - from the bottom up!)

But practitioners of 69, keep your fingers crossed!


We men know that there are certain things women juz won't do when it comes to sex. And most men respect that. But if the women truly love us, they should Just DO It. Do it, do it, do it! Oh gimme a break! There's nothing dirty about ORAL SEX. Everyone's doing it. Clinton, once the most powerful man on earth, did it in the santuary of the White House! (Now, you could almost sense my frustration, eh?)

If she refuses, then the least she should do is to get me a concubine. Some guys, like Chris, my namesake, has all the luck.

Now, this is what I called "too much information". But don't believe what I wrote at face value though. Most time, I write to amuse. LOL.

Category: Musings

The Time Machine

If you have a Time Machine
Where would you like to be?
Junior tells me he'd zap back to the Jurassic Age
Where he'd have fun and cavort with Dinosaurs all day

The Slim Lady says the bachelorette days is where she'd be
Where life is all easy and carefree
No husband to nag, no kids to scream at
Just she, herself, and the Slim Lady

As for me
The thought came pretty quick
My childhood
That's the place I'd revisit

For childhood is where
Innocence lives
Where dreams are alive
And know no limit

Where kids can throw their clothes on the floor
Believing in the magical forces
That will somehow return their clean and folded clothes
Back to their dresser drawers

Where kids are lucky
They pay no rent
Where they only have to study
To keep Mum and Dad really happy

Where kids never need to wait in line
At the bank, ATM or the supermarket
And should they ever need to queue
It's entrance to the movies such as Shrek and Garfield!

Where kids are unsophisticated little souls
They accept you the way you are
Never judging how you look
Or the kind of job that you do

Where the kids are so full of goodness
They know not what is evil
And their only pre-requisite for friendship
Is friendliness

To a kid
Everything has an answer
If Mum and Dad are stumped or don't know what to do
There's always Grandpa or Grandma to turn to

Adults cry
Usually for themselves
Kids cry, too
But mostly, over little pets that died

If there is a Time Machine
Back to my Childhood
That's the best place to be
Now, don't you quite agree?

Category: Humoresque

The "Invisible" Dads

I can't help but be amused by an article in the ST today, featuring fathers who brought their kids to schools. Apparently, it was a project by a non-profit group known as Centre for Fathering (sounds like a centre for men to get their wives to "conceive". LOL) trying to get the men more involved in their children's upbringing.

Very commendable, I must say. After all, studies have shown that kids are generally well adjusted in later life, if the fathers play an active role in their upbringing.

But alas, that article was more than a decade late. Hello? I’ve been there, done that. And I know a dozen other men who do.

Senior Junior's now 15. When he started P1 many moons ago, I brought him to school - accompanied by the Slim Lady. Okay, fine, this doesn't really count. But when it was Junior's turn to enter P1 n 2005, Daddy was the one who took two days leave to initiate him to the joy (and pain) of schooling. Mummy dearest was juz too busy with her work.

Not only that, guess who bought his school books, uniforms and shoes? It was Daddy. Who met the teachers during Parent-Teacher meeting? It was Daddy. Who whips out a good meal for the family? Daddy.

Of course, I dun mean to paint my wife in a bad light. She's a loving wife and mum and all, but hey, I suppose both mums and dads have their roles to play in a family. And sometimes, you just have a role-reversal situation, when Dad happens to be a better cook then the Mum (Juz ask my kid).

Truth is, the picture of a New Age Dad, changing diapers for the babies and breast bottle-feeding the babies no longer raises eyebrows. Perhaps it was so during the time of our parents, when husbands were expected to bring home the bacon and rule the house with an iron fist, while the wives tended to the kids and household chores acting all domesticated and docile. The new breed of males (SNAGs sound so passe) are here to stay.

But with duo-income families the norm these days, how could we husbands be so insensitive as to leave everything, from the kids upbringing and the household chores to the women of our life? Uh-uh.... not me. But still, no matter what I do in the house, it ain't enough for the Slim Lady.

Yes, give the Dads some credit. It's long overdue....

Category: Musings

First day at work, 2007

First day at work, 2007
Déjà vu
The same old job
Nothing really new

The drive to work
Traffic’s heavy but smooth
Even the emails - its sea of red
Fail to dampen my mood

I’m at my desk
A cuppa in hand
I enjoy the job I do
Believe me you

As the day wears on
I’d feel the stress
Endless meetings and briefings
I’m on the verge of collapse!

But I love my job
It’s the only thing I’d do
It pays my rent
Any my indulgences too

It feeds my kids
Their education, too
And allows me
My mistress to upkeep

This last verse; it’s not really true
I wrote it just to amuse you
The mistress is really my other “wife”
The one you’d call a 4-wheel drive!

It’s just another day’s job
I’d live it through
Cos honestly
This job is the only job I’d do

Category: Humoresque

The Wayang begins

In about two hours, the month-long December school holiday would be finally over.

I dunno about you, but the first day of school always gives me the blue. Trust me, it's not juz the kids who are suffering from the “going-back-to-school” blue. The day stresses us parents as much as it does the kids.

You wake up earlier then usual to get the kids ready for school - preparing breakfast, getting their uniforms and shoes ready. On the road, the traffic is heavier then usual, and darn if it rains! Thankfully, Junior's in P3 and Senior Junior's in Sec 3. I no longer have to accompany them to school like I did when they were in P1, as most parents do.

So the "wayang begins ...." without fail each year after the month-long holiday. It's a yearly ritual many of us parents are used to by now.

Well, unfortunately, the wayang doesn't stop when I drop the kids off school. In the evening, Junior's bag has to be checked - is there any instructions from the teachers? Any homework to be done? Books to be brought to school, and so on and so forth ....

Life can be a real drag .... and dread... I'm looking forward to the first school holiday in March 07 already! Perhaps more eagerly so then Junior!

Category: Family

Monogamy Vs Polygamy

Husbands who desire more than a wife to take
Are a dime a dozen
But surely the wives are nutty as a fruitcake
To have mooted such an idea!

Husbands, whose wives tell them to sow their seeds elsewhere
Watch it man, better beware!
You know, and I know
They say so in jest!

For Jayne... whatever she's searching for.....

Category: Humoresque