The Real Third World Country

Oh? So what makes us third world is how much our country and its fellow citizens earn annually?

This is word vomit so please forgive me if I let loose and reduce myself to profanity. 

My Kitchen.  The damned kitchen.  No.  It’s actually my damned housemates.  See, they don’t give a fiddler’s fart about the kitchen.  I’ve never come across people like these.  Really.  I know not all Aussies are filthy, but having visited some other friends’ place, gosh I feel like a LARGE amount of the locals here don’t give a fishcake about personal hygiene or cleanliness.  They consider us third world countries, but let me tell you something.  Yes, Sabah or any other Asian countries may not be spick and span, but let me tell you something, you Bogans from the Land Down Under, you ain’t clean yourselves.  You’re so freaking lazy to clean up after yourself that you pay a crapload of tax money to your government to hire cleaners.  You’re so damned ignorant that you don’t mind throwing a paper bag down the drain knowing that your tax money is paying someone else to pick up after you.  For that reason, that makes you more civilized than us?  I’ve never met people so unmotivated or unprogressive.  For you who are not aware, jobless people get government support here.  They get about 100 – 200 bucks a week.  Oh what?  My uni fees is being streamlined to pay for locals to study here?  Not only are my parents’ money being used to support Bumiputeras in their quest for educational advancement which they will use to smack us in our faces with… us being those who come from Borneo, the less civilized island.  Oh?  Australians are civilized?  Really?  Gosh people here are so fat they drink coke and walk around sans shoes/thongs, and what?  They go around almost naked, oblivious to the fact that the sun here kills so many Aussies in a year (skin cancer).  Now tell me who’s more civilized?   Oh yeah, yesterday, I was coming home after teaching my student at the ESL center.  There were two Asians walking ahead of me, and all three of us passed this group of Aussie teens smoking.  This was still within the compounds of the university but obviously these teens were still in high school or probably drop outs (what’s the point of finishing your education anyway when the government gives you free money?) They approach me since I was the last one on the path, it was not dark yet, but there was just very few people walking that route back.  They asked me for the time.  Well, if you guys know me well enough, you’d know that I don’t wear a watch.  So I told them that I’m sorry I don’t have the time, and I walked away.  They told me to fuck off, and I’m pretty sure there’s no other way of saying that in a more polite way.  I didn’t take offense, as I learned from these people here that you can ignore whatever people say to you.  I walked a few meters and looked back and they were still staring at me, like hawks, ready to strike.  I quickened my pace and instead of going through the tunnel where they could easily catch up with me and do mean things to me in the tunnel, I climbed over the fence and walked on the highway, which almost all university students do.  Initially I wasn’t sure if I wanted to walk on the highway since it was drizzling and you would not want a car crashing into you on the slippery road.  But I took my chances, either get knocked down by a car or getting beaten up in the dark tunnel.  I chose the former.  I made it in one piece.  I called security, I hope they tell those bastards off.  People have been assaulted in the tunnel before. 

Oh yes, what inflicted this angst?  Well here is the kitchen after my Aussie housemate decided to have a baking spree on Monday.  It’s Tuesday now by the way.  He takes about one week to clean up. 


None of my housemates take out the trash


None of them bothers to scrub the stove.  Seriously.  The last time I did it was back in winter.  I was just tired of cleaning up their filth after that. 




So tell me, who actually qualifies for being third world? 

Saving Grace & Saving Face

I’m not trying to stir a theological debate here, but one that affects us culturally.  There are times when I feel that the culture that I was brought up in handicaps my capabilities.  The notion of ‘face’ is always smacked straight into my face.  I’m sure there are many of us who find ourselves torn in situations like this.  I’m not only saving my own face, but the face of others’ around me as well.  I can’t help it, can you?  We know we are progressive beings who, at times, need to prioritize our own well-being.  But coming from a culture where social relationship is foremost the most vital aspect, face saving appears to be hindering us from achieving our full potential. 

I went to a friend’s house yesterday.  My friend’s housemate is an Adventist and goes to church, occasionally.  Recently, he met a divorcee/widow who’s a decade older and they’ve been living together.  I’ve also encountered him at the uni pubs on my way back from class.  I’m not judging him but the bumping into him is so awkward.  This all started about a month ago when I bumped into him on my way to class.  I greeted him with a ‘hello’ and he responded with a ‘sorry.’ 

This and That

Literally.  This and That.  My guy who supervises me at my workplace told me before that I should never stuff the dishwasher with too many items.  Also, I should try to wash the same items at one go.  That means, don’t mix plates with pots, don’t mix cups with spoons, etc.  Well yesterday, another dude came in to fill in for my supervisor (supervisor is back in Thailand holidaying).  There was a birthday dinner going on and it went on till half past ten.  That means I have heaps and heaps of soiled dishes to do, plus pots, and stoves to wash.  Well, I was trying to make sure I did what my supervisor did.  Suddenly this new guy (he’s not new, he’s been working there longer than me) comes in and tells me to step aside while he ‘shows’ me how to do it.  He was quick I must say.  But he stuffed everything together.  I wasn’t sure whether or not tell him that my supervisor it was done differently.  I kept quiet of course, but I was very tempted to tell him, “But Ben (my supervisor) told me otherwise!!”  He kept looking back at me, and tell me that he understands that I’m new here and that I’m slow.  I just smiled and gave him the ‘whatever’ look. 

One of my restaurant colleague is in a dilemma now.  His girlfriend in Thailand found out that he’s been fooling around with another girl here.  Is this a Thai-thing?  I’ve got lots of Thai friends who are never content with one girl. 

Came back at midnight light night because there were three customers lingering around the restaurant.   The owners (Thais) told us to clean the kitchen quietly.  How are we supposed to tone down the cleaning when we’re vigorously scrubbing walls and the floor?  So much for being Asians.  The funny thing was all them were complaining afterwards that the three customers did not give any gratuity.  Ahhahaha.. back at you!!!!

Last night I broke a cup, but I escaped the wrath of the boss.  Not that the boss will kill me if I broke something.  Let’s leave it at there :P


No, I didn’t get any piercings, my slipper did.  I found a thumb-tack stuck to the bottom of my thongs this morning after my shower.  I’m inclined to think that someone must have left it lying around on purpose… but who would be so spiteful?  I was, a couple of days ago – I shook a very very filthy kitchen towel (and I mean DIRTY, used to wipe counter tops and soak oil) over my housemate’s cake.  Why did I do it?  Well, angst and hatred have been accumulating over the past few weeks.  After my housemate baked a lovely cake for himself and his gf, he had the guts to leave it on the kitchen, not forgetting the mess as well.  This particular tea towel, it’s blue.  None of us except for the housemate-who-baked-the-cake use it.  That, too, he left lying on the table next to the cake.  It looked so inviting, not the cake, but the tea towel.  So I took the tea towel, imagined I was in a Chinese opera where the characters prance around with a piece of silk hankie, and gave it a good shake over the cake.  I saw flakes falling, multicolored flakes, like those multi-colored chemically induced stuff that one would find on cheap cakes.  Need I continue?  I felt really good after that.  Concise did kick in after a while, but that really felt good, in a bad way. 

It was my first time to be in a kitchen of a busy restaurant.  Last night soiled plates kept coming in from the moment I started work till the restaurant closed at 10.  It took me another hour to finish up all the other utensils the cooks used in the kitchen.  Didn’t get paid.  Will get paid on Sunday.  Bleh…

Dalam sebutan baku: sasa fies


picture taken from here. 

I went to the I Am Tour’s official website yesterday and saw that Malaysia’s not on the list, or was it? 

Malaysia, a country a call my own, has set rather strict ‘surface’ rules when it comes to visiting performers like Beyonce.  Artistes who went their way to meet fans in this part of SEA have had to abide to the country’s conservative.  Those who expose a lil’ bit of themselves end up being scrutinized and fined.  But hey, these artistes are rich… to them getting fined would probably be like paying for a parking ticket.

I can’t imagine Beyonce singing Diva or All the Single Ladies or Crazy in Love clad in a blanket.  Btw, have you seen how Malaysian artistes dress?  It’s nothing different than how Beyonce dresses up.  Cleavage is shown; figure-accentuating costumes; etc.  Some high ranking official mentioned that Malaysia does not need any of Beyonce’s sexy moves.  Damn right she’s sexy… and nobody in Malaysia can beat her sexiness.  That’s a valid reason for her to come, to show Malaysia who’s the real Diva in the music industry. 

On a different note, there’s another dust storm raging outside.  Don’t we just love the weather these days?  Yesterday started out hot with the sun out, then it rained cows and pigs last night, this morning I woke up to orangey skies.  What next?  A tornado?  I do hope so.  I’d like this wretched pig sty I’m living in get bombed by a flying oil tanker.  It’s not too much of a request is it? 

I probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed (for me to be writing posts like this on such a lovely dusty day), but it I think it’s because I woke up alone again (nahh… I’m just a little edgy because last night I went to bed and half past ten and still I couldn’t sleep. bleh)

cloudy with a chance of?

rain, perhaps? but they said meatballs will fall out from the sky. 

Incidents at my work place – Boss to Daron, “Daron, please cook one rice!”  Daron to Boss, “Yes, Boss!  One rice coming up!”  As I reach into the bucket where they store rice, my eyes quickly jump from one rice (what’s the classifier for rice?) to the other.  It’s SO hard to pick out which RICE that deserves to be boiled and served to the customers later.  I finally have my pick, I wash the rice twice with cold water, and then measure a droplet of hot water to boil the rice with.  I do all of these in a large 10 liter rice pot.  Please cook one rice please people. 

other funny words encounter: mik entree, sepring roll, kali puff, I’m sure there are more.  I just need to fine tune my ears. 

My two weeks of midterm holidays came to end yesterday.  It’s back to the grind now.  I still three more weeks of classes, a presentation of my research project, and finally my internship (which begins this week) and will run till the middle of November.  I have about two to three weeks to linger around before I board the Singapore Airlines’ A380, where I’ll be sitting in 38G (aisle seat) sipping a Bloody Mary (just joking?) while watching and listening to the latest movies and music :)  Can’t wait!

omg like totally


latest installment to my skincare products. 

Check our their other products here.

A guide to working as dishwashers

no, I’m not talking about the machine.  I’m talking about the person that actually does the dishes. 


Last night, at work, I decided to don the green rubber gloves that were hanging right in front of me in my temporary glamorous career as a dishwasher (is there another name for a person who washes dishes, ‘dishwasher’ rings strange in my ears').

Last night, I got told off for talking on the phone for 1:32 minutes.  As far as I can remember, I had already finished my dishes, and right after I was told off, the boss’ phone rang and she went away chit-chatting happily.  Oh, so the boss can do it and the DIVA can’t??!?!?!?!

This week, I trimmed my hair.  I don’t know how I did it but I managed, with a pair of scissors of course. 

It’s the first of October today.  For some reason I thought i was Halloween last night, must have been all those horror movies I’ve been watching lately.  Oh, I watched Jennifer’s Body and there’s this hot scene where Jennifer (Megan Fox) and ‘Needy’ (I forgot the actor’s name) made out.  Hot! 

I’m writing essays now.  Switching between one and the other every ten minutes.  Its amusing how I complicated my thoughts with two unrelated essays.