Author: bimbobum

one fine day on MSN….
frank: do you think i’m cute?
me: huh???
frank: do you think i’m cute??
me: what kind of question is that?????
*panicking*
[how to answer him??]
me: err…. this kinda question, don’t la ask me.
me: you should ask your girlfriend la, if you have one… i cannot answer questions like that!
me: ask me la questions like whether i think you’re fat or not, that one i can answer la. hehehe.

frank: but you’re talking to me…
frank: so that means i’m cute la!
*still panicking*
[wah, how come so perasan** one him?]
*pretends to be busy for a while without answering*

persistent fella continues to chat with me…
frank: your msg on top says “Do Not Disturb!!!! unless you’re cute…”
frank: and you’re talking to me
frank: which means i’m cute la…
=

**getting the wrong idea either in a good or bad way.

as kids years back, we’d look forward to receiving fat red packets [ang pow] from elders who were giving distributing handing them out. of course, we had to make sure we greeted our parents’ brother or sister or cousin properly according to their ranks first, before we were handed the red packets. we’d fight among cousins to see who could greet the uncle or aunty the loudest, “GONG XI FA CHAI, KU MA!!!!!” or something like that.
and as the older ones we’d snub the younger cousins, “haha, yours so little! i got more money!!” just to make them cry. yeah, we were meanies. ;P
fast forward, and we now don’t find ourselves eagerly rushing to corner unsuspecting relatives for angpows anymore. politely, we’d shake hands and wish them good health, happiness and wealth for the new year, and shyly, uncomfortably accepting the angpows. feeling too old to be accepting angpows. = as working adults, should we not accept them, or shall we just take them, because we’re still not married?
i remember the biggest angpow i ever received was RM1,000.00 when i was 14 or younger. but now, how come i don’t get such an amount?? inflation???
i’m not shy! just accept any angpow given to me….. but i dread hearing the words that accompany them, “so when are you going to bring your boyfriend home to introduce him to us??”
“what boyfriend la, aunty… don’t have…..”
“what don’t have…. so shy for what….” my aunt will nudge me, thinking she could coax me into saying, “YES, I HAVE! NEXT YEAR I BRING OK!”
“don’t have la…. because i wanna continue collecting ang pows! hehehe…”
but i overheard my uncles suggesting that they may start a rule from next year onwards that for every year we delay in getting married, we’d have to refund a certain amount from the angpow received. which sounds rather stingy if the angpow is only RM10, and i’m asked to refund 20%!

overheard:
“aiyo, i tell you… my roommate is so pretty!
but wasted la…. so pretty but she snores!!”
the girl shook her head as she remarked – as if it was such a sin.
so if she’s not that pretty and she snores, it’s ok? ;PppPpPP

**[disclaimer: a possibly inaccurate personal account on slimming treatment(s), written on 17/01/06.]

chinese new year is just next week!
i must admit (shamefully), i go for slimming treatment(s) in a desperate attempt to lose the extra inches and kilos, to avoid having my cheeks/tummy/thighs/arms/bum mercilessly pinched by my relatives and hearing them say, “wah, aren’t you prosperous? child-bearing hips!! got boyfriend ah? very happy life in kl ah? food there must be good!” and etc..
the slimming treatments differ for different people, depending on their fat content, detoxification, ….. and goodness knows whatever else they can think of la.
on the day of my appointment for treatment, they weigh me before and after the treatment, to record how much weight i’ve lost from the treatment. the worst is if i’ve gained weight between the last and current treatment. =(
in the beginning, i never knew what “wrapping” was.
but i should have guessed that the literal meaning applied.

problem areas [thighs, bum, saddlebags, tummy, arms, double chins, eyebags, earlobes, fingers, feet, etc] will be wrapped up with industrial sized cling wrap after you’re slathered with slimming cream or chilli oil. this is to allow for better penetration of the ‘slimming elements’ to fight the fatty cells in you. *bishpiakpoofbishbishpoing*
it doesn’t work that well apparently, if you do this yourself at home because it has to be REALLY tight.
and i thought of doing it myself to save some money….. *sigh*
and right after i am wrapped up, i am not supposed to eat until i unwrap myself an hour later. but usually i’m too hungry to bother waiting. hehe.

p.s. me not THAT fat. = but in the KL society of super ultra thin teeny tiny petite angelic waifs with stats of 36-21-30, me am fat. *sobs* it’s a cruel cruel world….

caught someone in my office staring at my *cleavage* the other day, just because i had the top 2 buttons of my shirt undone. but there was no hint of soft curves whatsoever though. unless he was admiring my smooth skin, or the pendant on the chain around my neck… perhaps even the split ends of my hair? hmm.. but i always have the top 2 buttons of my shirt undone what.
sure us girls/women nowadays usually do the same, tantalising you men with a peekaboo[b], and yes, you can look/stare/ogle if you want to, but does it have to be done BLATANTLY and right-in-my-face-while-i’m-asking-you-a-question instead of concentrating at the question at hand?
10 seconds is LONG!
wait, 5 seconds is also long!
coincidentally the day before this happened, i had a conversation with a friend regarding blatant ogling. he told me that he was with his friends [another guy and one girl] and as they walked out of the restaurant, a guy was coming in. just after the girl walked past this guy, he made a 180 degree turn behind and deliberately craned his neck to peer into her shirt!
uhm, excuse me… be discreet la.
it’s not about us girls/women ‘asking for it’. it may be complimentary, but if you’re a guy who has a permanent hamsup (perverted) expression on his face [*ugh*], and/or forever staring like we’d be flattered to see drool coming out of your mouth [*bleh*], and/or we’re talking to you but your eyes are just glued to our cleavage, and/or you’re just short so your eye level just has to remain at our cleavage level, it doesn’t mean you cannot be discreet.
anyway, it wasn’t like i was wearing this to the office…..

[this pic is taken from www.jabrocks.com]
p.s. and when your boss does it….. *shivers* ……. yerr..

one evening when i was a pudgy 4-year-old, my dad came back from work with a surprise. he shook the package and told me, “i’ll let you try this after dinner, ok?”
“what’s that?” i eagerly asked. he replied, “chewing gum!” and he showed me this.

[courtesy of www.dutchvalleyfoods.com]

after dinner, my dad took out the box, and like a sacred occasion, he slowly opened the box flap and put one square piece in my palm and one in his.
“now, this sweet, you CANNOT swallow, understand? you can only chew, until it no longer has taste, and then you spit it out. CHEW. understand? DO NOT SWALLOW, ok?” he explained to me the basic rules of eating chewing gum. i nodded solemnly, feeling like a big girl with an important task.
i popped it into my mouth and chewed. at first, i sucked on it. that hard sweet outer layer tasted nice. then i started to chew. i felt like i was eating a lil piece of plasticine.

[courtesy of http://www.hosokawa.com]
about 10 minutes later, my dad announced, “ok, time to spit out the chewing gum!” and led me to the kitchen and stood me in front of the basket/dustbin.
“now, spit.” he instructed. he demonstrated by spitting his into the dustbin.
i spat into the dustbin.
he peered in.
“nothing also. SPIT!!”
*CaaAAaCk*
i stuffed my lil head into the dustbin.
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my dad looked at me.
i looked back at him innocently.
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“make sure you just pangsai (shit) it out later……..”