Wednesday, December 24, 2008


The last time this kinda thing happened, Catherine and I took a bus downtown to be married by a judge named Baker. This time around, I'm not sure where all this is gonna lead me to.
If there is ever a time I miss someone so much - wish you were here, Catherine. Because falling in love with someone else's missus is not the kinda thing anyone wanna do in a summertime.

I wonder if you still look the same, Catherine.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Lunch With A Friend's Missus

I LIKE THE MOVIE 'THE TRANSPORTER' because the hero has got himself a set of simple rules that he follows. I too got myself a set of simple rules but the sad thing is (seven out of ten); I break my own rules to accommodate a situation, or a person - and this has gotten me into some serious trouble with people. Do I learn anything from these experiences? No, I don't. Which is why I keep breaking my own rules from time to time, and which is why I keep getting myself into one trouble after another that I'm close to making a decision to leave a country to go live in a remote place like Gairloch - where I can do my own thing and not care about anything. But I know better that this is not possible because a guy with my kinda complexion and my kinda name won't blend too well in a place like Gairloch because you'd need to be a white man to live in a Scottish town like that. Of course I can marry a Gairloch girl and try to blend in with the folks there but this would take a lot of time and money and so I say to myself something like this; forget about it.
Oh yes, I've got a set of simple rules I'd like to follow to the letter - like never dine with a married woman, especially if the married woman is your friend's missus. But I gotta make a slight adjustment to this rule because the woman in question is the one who sobs sobs sobs in between the sentences when she has the sudden urge to talk about her hubby who has been missing for a couple of months now that he's got himself a new missus. In the meantime, I'm having lunch with the 1st missus in a restaurant where it's very difficult to be discreet when she keeps sob sob sob in between the sentences that people are beginning to pay attention to us probably thinking to themselves something like this; that couple is breaking up because that man is going to run off with a young thing in a skirt shorter than a handkerchief. I keep saying to her; please, ma'am, don't sob sob sob here, people are watching. She stops for three seconds, only to sob sob sob again the next minute. It's not the kinda sob sob sob that I used to do as a kid when I wanted something from Aunt . The sob sob sob I mean sounds more like a muffled cough - the kind when a heroine in a movie does it, hiding herself behind a box while the bad guys go around looking for her with a dog. Something like that. Do you know what I mean?
I'm not much of a guy to have a heart for a woman, especially when I'm a little hungry in the stomach and the food is right before my eyes. It so happens I'm in the mood for some Monghul food on a wet afternoon like this and so I say to her something like this; ma'am, why don't you eat something, it's good for you. She has a bit of kebab not bigger than the size of a morsel and leaves the rest untouched. And so I say to her; can I have that?
In between chewing and trying to be civil in a respectable restaurant, I watch her from time to time hoping and praying that she won't start on me with a set of sobs that can make people think I'm breaking up with her. Now this is between you and me; I will never figure out why a man would want to leave behind a pretty woman like her to marry someone less pretty (I've seen the picture of the other woman and believe me, on a scale of 10, this missus here is a high 3 and the new missus is a 7). I hope you are not offended by this grading but it helps me give you the idea of what I'm talking about. In case you wonder how does a 1 looks like in my book - I'll tell you. A young Elizabeth Taylor is a 1.
I say to her; ma'am, would you like some dessert? She says no and so I say to her; why don't you have some Kashimiri tea, it'll do you some good. She talks in a round about way about her life, work, childhood and stuff like that. I listen thinking to myself; ma'am, will you marry me?
I'm gonna be in a big trouble to break my second rule; never fall in love with someone else's missus, especially a friend's missus. But I've gotta make a slight adjustment.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

The Guy In The Middle.

MA'AM, WHEN HE'S MADE UP HIS MIND TO MARRY ANOTHER you'd better get out of the way and call the Fire Department. I don't think I'm the right person for you to call in the middle of the night to sob sob sob in between the sentences about how you've given everything you got to make him happy like keeping yourself pretty and desirable, not to mention learning everything you need to learn from Betty Crocker and Martha Stewart. Yes, I do mind answering the phone when I'm all set to call off the day, dreaming of a happy dream about the person I most would like to marry and live happily ever after. But I don't have the heart to tell you this and so I write this in a blog hoping that you won't find it because if you do, I figure you'd be hurt twice over and I'd be in a lot more trouble than the state I'm in.
Your hubby isn't exactly a friend but he comes around the house every now and then to brag about the new woman he just met that he's decided to marry come what may. I don't keep friends because I'm not much of a friendly kinda guy to begin with but I treat a guest the best way I can to make him feel at home and that simply means cooking up something simple like braised lamb, or nasi goreng kampong, or whatever.
I don't have a good advice for you, ma'am. But I know this for sure - that when a man decides to marry another, you'd better get out of the way because he believes he knows what he's doing. You can trust me 100% on this one - after six or eight months, when the dust finally settled, he'd think of you more often than he does of his new woman, and he'd want you back the same way he wanted you when he first met you on the first date. You see, your hubby isn't the first guy who comes around the house every now and then to brag about the new women in their life. I bet all the stuff in my fridge that he'd come around the house in six or eight month from now, crying like a baby, pleading and sobbing that I call you to tell you that he's sorry and that he wants you back. I've never been a woman before but I reckon this kinda stuff hurts you inside but I know for fact that in the end you can win this game if you just let him have his way for now.
I'm gonna tell you this next time you call so that you won't sob sob sob in between the sentences.
One time there was a woman with the same predicament as the state you're in who came around the house to sob sob sob in between the sentences because her hubby had ran off with a new woman he met on the airplane. She found out that they married in a state where you can marry as many women you want in a single afternoon. Next thing I know, she came around the house looking for her hubby thinking that I had allowed the house to be used as some kinda sanctuary for the newyled. She sob sob sob so hard and so long that I gotta keep running to the kitchen to fetch her a glass of water to replenish the tears she cried because I figured if she kept going that way, she'd dry up the tears in no time and that she gonna get herself dehydrated like a leaf dry as bone in the sun.
Please, ma'am. You'd better call the Fire Department. Or one of those motivators on the morning TVs. They seem to have all the answers in the world that I have the impression they can help turn this world into a huge market for their motivational talk. Do you know what I mean?

Monday, December 15, 2008

Do You Know What Love Is?

No point denying the fact that a guy can love six or sixteen women at the same time. And he loves them the same as the first or the second or third. He doesn't distinguish one from the other, he loves them as good as love can get on a sunny day with blue skies and all. But this being a rainy day I reckon a guy won't be doing much loving because every woman he calls is either out of town or busy shopping for one last time before the economy goes under. The next best thing to do when this happens is to bring out the broom, the mop, the floor detergent and start doing something respectable and honorable which you may have already guessed from the equipment I've mentioned - that is to clean the house as good as a house can get to being a maternity hospital, or a nuclear plant.
Sensing that this may take at least three solid hours of a wet Sunday, I start with the fans. And then the bookshelves which need serious dusting both with a feather duster and a damp cloth. And then the floors - a good sweep with a nice broom with thick bush and a good mop soaked in a powerful floor detergent. And then the fridge and the freezer. The bathrooms.
By 3.00 pm there's no more cleaning to be done and all I can do is to sit and think what to eat now that I'm beginning to feel a little hungry. Now this is not a big problem for me because I know exactly what a man should eat in a weather like this.
Throw some keledek, daun cekor and santan. Fry a good chunk of ikan talam masin. Deep fry a piece of thick tenggiri.
By 6.00pm I'm out cycling in the rain on my new Giant XTC Three bike.
Do you know what love is? I'd say sharing this moment with someone you really care is a good start to find out what love is all about.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

I Came Home

Will up-date soon now that I'm home.