Monday, October 31, 2005

The trailer told the whole story already!

Was asked to watch Cinderella Man not long ago. (actually almost a week already but I got nothing new to write about mah)
I replied: No, thank you. I've seen it during high school.
And then I couldn't help snickering, leaving my friend with a conversation baloon that said: SML*?
Well, I mentioned I'm from a private Chinese high school right? However, we were still given the choice to sit for the government exam called SPM. If you chose to take this SPerM exam, you have to attend an additional tuition class, which is taught by random teachers from dunno God knows where.
Our English teacher's name is Cinderella.
She's Indian. Her voice sounded like as if she drank wasabi + hot water before coming to class. And she's got a beard.
Yes. She's got a beard, and a moustache. If you're still going 'hah?' I'M TALKING ABOUT MISAI LAH!
Of course, her beard's not as thick as the barbers you find in Jalan Taiping, but still, you can see her 5 o'clock shadow.
I'm alright talking about this now. But five years ago, for a 16 year old Chinese high school boy, that was damn freaky ok?
No, don't 'assume' I'm 'assuming' she has a beard. Because, we could see her effort of shaving them off. She put talcum powder over her shaved neck. YES! NECK! And by 8pm (night class la) you could see those tiny little ants starting to grow out of her face.
Tuition is like horror movie marathon. I'd twitch whenever she gave me a pat in the back. (good in English subject, what to do?)
Eventually, we felt sorry for her. We started thinking: what if she's actually not a transvestite. (sHe-man) Although until today I still believe she is, I'd still feel sad for her if she's actually a 'she'.
Imagine yourself with such a name. Cin-de-rey-lah! With all the hopes of living happily ever after, dancing with prince charming and pretend to lose your shoe and all that.
God has to give you facial hair.
It's as bad as having names like Ong Ying Jun (Handsome Ong) or Tan Bee Lee (Beautiful Tan). I appreciate the parents' effort. But even if the children ARE good looking, the names would turn me off. Their friends'd still laugh about it everyday.
'Gahahahah! Your name is Beautiful! Beautiful! Gyyahahaya! 苏永康! Good name! Heeheeheheheheheee!'
And they'd change it to Fanny or Ah Dick or Titan or Kenzo whatever, which are equally drop dead funny for the angmo's.

*SML: Si Mi Lan. Equivalent to WTF?

Update: Yes, I just realised how amusing it is for you to see a guy with the name of a University laughing at other people's names. Ei, At least my name's any time better than Fanny ok? Shut up. I didn't choose my name. You don't understand my feelings at all~! (dash towards door)

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Taylors? No I don't need clothes.

Haven't been chatting with my high school mates for some time. Whenever Klang people catch up, it's always about food.
Because, I think that's the only attraction we have. Our memories revolve around restuarants. Teluk Pulai, Modern, Centrepoint, Melawis Laksi, Bee's cafe (Haha!), Pandamaran Fried Chicken, Cendol Klang. Eng Ann Mamak. If you've lived in Klang before, I'm sure you'd find some familiar names back there.
And of course, my Chinese high school life.
Reading JHT*'s latest work reminded me of my Tongkat Ah Meng Chinese root. Which is strange, because, most Malaysians don't believe I'm a Chinese student when I tell them.
Wat, jast becoorse I durn spueek blocken yinglish theyn I'm lot Chainese ar? Yu all daem lacist one.
I remember my harcore Chinese high school life. Which, only the English teachers spoke England.
Good days. Although I didn't have many friends. Yes, I do notice I don't have THAT many friends now, but yea.
People used to ignore me in high school. It's pretty funny because my size was impossible to ignore.
Like the audience try to 'not notice' the elephant in a circus.
Speaking of getting ignored, something similar happened recently. Yes, I'm being ignored by someone, again.
It's pretty simple. A joke gone too far. Can't take it back. Not in speaking terms anymore. I've experienced that with my 'J' joke before. My 'J' joke brought me respect and life long friends; it made me lose a lot of friends and gained enemies as well.
Anyway, I just realised: to dislike, or hate someone takes so much effort. You have to know where that person is, when he/she's round you gotta put up a straight face. You gotta put up the fuck off look, buy voodoo dolls, prick them on the heart. You know, that kind of stuff. So I've decided not to hate people. I choose to despise or symphatise them.
It's easier plus you don't really care about them do you?

*JHT = 痞子蔡. Taiwanese author. Latest work: 孔雀森林. Got it, Lum?

Friday, October 28, 2005

Leaves are money, no?

After pausing the PS2 for three days, I've finally finished Haisei Tanuki Gassen Ponpoko of the Ghibli set.
The movie is about a Tanuki community who's been driven out of their homeland because, well, we human need to develop residential areas. Plus, what the hell is a Tanuki anyway?
Tanuki is an atypical species of dog that is often confused with badgers or racoons. Japanese folklore consider Tanuki to be magical creatures with the power of transformation.
Also, Tanuki has giant testicles.
You read me right back there. They call them Kin-tama (Golden Balls). The testes are supposedly symbol of good luck instead of sexual reference. The Tanuki uses the testes as a drum to beat out the 'ponpoko' sound. (If only that didn't sound so wrong)
Well scientifically speaking, male Tanuki has large scrotum because of the fierce competition for the female Tanuki.
In the movie, the Tanuki stretches out its scrotum as a parachute in a desperate suicide attack. There and then, I thought: WTF.
It's made in 1994. I guess if I'd have watched it then, it would be an enjoyable experience as a kid. You know, seeing the Tanuki's transforming and stuff. Yet this is one of those movies that actually depresses you as a grown up. Like 'oh they're so happy, but sooner or later they'll die anyway.'
For a few minutes I was thinking: No! I refuse to go Tokyo now, because they killed all the Tanuki's!
And then I fall asleep.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

I'll have one googol taugays, thanks.

Was chatting to a girl for the first time. On the internet.
She said she just came back from a lecture titled 'The Wisdom of Choosing', written by Lee Kai-Fu.
And I asked: Lee Kai-Fu? Who's he? What does he do?
He is the ex-vice president of Microsoft and the current president of Google China, she replied after a ten second pause.
I was tempted to ask: So can he afford an Ipod Nano?
But I guess sarcasm's not a good idea for first encounters.
By the way, do you know that Google Inc. approached $100 billion in market value? That's how many brazilian rupiah ah?
Google might as well just build an island using coins next to Sumatra. Fucking capitalists. I want to be or have their son.
And random fact #228: I guess the name Google comes from the unit a googol, which is one times 10 to the power of 100.
And a Googolplex is one times 10 to the power of a googol. Seriously, who comes up with all these shit?

Monday, October 24, 2005

People, hot or not?

I thought she went bald? Reminds me of Keira Knightley here.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

I'm suppose to do work, I know

S@iGoN says:
hey just a random question...would u want to marry a virgin or u wouldn't care

Harvard: 17min36sec + Sunday library says:

Harvard: 17min36sec + Sunday library says:
if i buy a computer. it would be really great if it comes with a free printer. if it doesn't i'm also ok.

Harvard: 17min36sec + Sunday library says:
free printer = virgin.

S@iGoN says:

Coitus Interruptus. Ask me about it.

Check this out. I was doing my research for my Reading Media Text assignment and I came across this comment by Michel Foucault:

That is why coitus* in the middle of the night is deceptive, because then the food is not yet elaborated; the same is true of coitus that one has early in the morning, because there still may be ill-digested food in the stomach and because all the superfluities have not yet been evacuated through the urine and the feces. So that, all things considered, it is after a moderate meal and before sleep -- or possibly before the afternoon nap -- that the time will be most favorable for sexual intercourse.


NAH! For people like me got chance to coitus kill pig thank Dua Bek Gong** already! Still got time to hiam*** the time for wat wat coitus ar?
These postmodern people really siao one. Might as well set up a time for us to dig nose or trim nose hair.

*coitus: SEX LAH!
** Dua Bek Gong: a type of Chinese God.
***hiam: complain/make preference etc.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

You gotta pick them up just to say hello.

Yay. Music night. Rock on!
Well. It was 2 nights ago. And JH organised a choir group (sorry I said choir because I can't spell acapella.)
We sang "Short People" written by Randy Newman. You know the one that goes "Short people got no reason to live, they have little hands, little eyes, they walk around telling great big lies..."
And people actually came up to me and asked if I was singing about my ex. You know, the 'not so tall' one.
My first reaction was actually to reply them: Oh so you actually think she's short huh. How terrible of you.
And of course, I didn't pick the song. Although I didn't quite object it. Mehehe. We sorta screwed up in the end. But hey, nobody noticed. And we had fun, that's the main point!
This update is kind of late. Because, I can't think of anything interesting that happened lately. Except for the flu I still have.
Oh wait, yesterday I did ride a bicycle to Lygon. (Queue "the Elephant song")Yea, I felt like I was in a circus.
On my way there I was so tired: The bike's so difficult to move. My muscles are aching, I was short of breath. Stuff like that.
After all that running, and I couldn't even ride a bike.
I brought the bike to a bike shop because someone stole my seat adjuster. After replacing it and all, the shopkeeper asked me: Do you know that your tyres are flat?
Ah. I see.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Your skin makes me cry

We bury people in plastic containers in year 2074.

Woke up at 9.30am. Just in time to miss breakfast.
And I thought, well I might as well try fasting today.
Bad decision.
Without food I was bored. So I decided to play some basketball by myself. You know, to kill time.
Bad, bad, bad decision.
And then I remembered I've got dance class.
So by 2.15pm my brain was kinda going woo-ing woo-ing. chip chip. spark. Ctrl + Alt + Delete + your momma.
By the time I broke fast at 6.45pm, I realised I've got a haircut. Plus a mullet. Fuck. Not funny at all.
And I stole two people' s late meals.
I can't understand or believe how the muslims could get through this. Especially the ones back home.
Malaysia's productivity must've been -824%. Lots of people go to work and screw up and say: Apa buat? Puasa mah!
I'm sure the Chinese and Indians are happily eating Happy Meals in front of their Malay friends just to tease them.
You want to see Zombie: Resurrected? Go to the warung makan in Klang right before they break fast.
After the radio prayer says: aoowooaoaooa - eat rice - owoaooaoaoa. You see all these boneless people puffing away while drinking and eating. Quite a sight really.

Monday, October 17, 2005

You make me feel like a hundred dollars.

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close - Jonathan Safran Foer

Last Saturday night I ate too fast and a piece of Chicken Ala King got stuck in my throat. You know. that place that connects your nose and throat? Yea, I could feel a piece of chicken in there.
I snorted and snorted but it went further in.
The ultimate disaster. You can feel it's just there in your nose but your fingers are just a wee bit short to dig it out.
Now I think I got infected and sore throat/flu.
Which, on the bright side gave me time to stay on my bed and finish this book I've been reading for the past 2 weeks.
If you only read one book a year, make it THIS book.
The story: A 9-year-old genius, whose father died during 9-11 set out to solve a mystery of a key he found in his father's closet.
It's not about the story. It's HOW the story was told.
Beautiful words. Engaging, and the layout of the book is incredible. Did I just say layout? YES! The layout and fonts in the book change from time to time. Which is why I think it's special.
And the story is heart warming. Or depressing. Depends if you're an optmistic or pessimistic person.
Please read this book, if you see yourself as a reader.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

I dare you to say the title in Cantonese.

Picture from

It's a chick flick. It started off with Cameron Diaz got caught sleeping with her sister's boyfriend.
Cut to bitch fight. Cut to running away from home.
Cut to Miami, where suddenly the whole movie is filled with old people in a retirement village. Enter the sisters' long lost grandmother. The connection. The middle layer of a Big Mac.
It's a typical movie which you've already know the ending: Sisters broke up. They discovered something important about themselves. They meet again. They get back together. And everyone lives happily ever after.
If only reality works that way.
I guess that's what makes these movies so appealing to girls.
For guys? Well, just take this as repaying your girlfriend by making her watch Sin City with you.

Although a big part of the movie is just about Diaz showing off her hard body, the casting is pretty good.

It's not gonna be a blockbuster. But if you're into chick flick or eager to get in touch with your feminine side, go ahead.
Sheesh. I need my shot of male hormones.
First Stargirl, then this. Too much pink. I accidentally caught myself filing my nails this morning. Yipes.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Lion King goes pole dancing. Call Tiketek.

Tiger not used to this type of pole.

Went to Unimelb to see this dance performance thingy.
Flare, they call it.
Our comment after the show: Great lighting effects.
No. It's not that it's crap. I am in no position to criticize. I can't even lift my legs not to mention do a split.
Yet I couldn't help noticing 50% of the show were just people 'clubbing' on stage. Just that they share the same movements.
What about the girls you ask? Well, they all look tasty. Some in a sexual way. Some in a 'if I were to barbeque them and stuff an apple in their mouth, they'd be tasty' kind of way.
Okla. They're just fat ok? But they could still stand on their toes. I gulped whenever they did that. Respect.
My friends and I concluded that each and every one of the audience know a person on stage. That's why they're there.
You know how people just like to shout out names during acts? At one stage I was thinking what happens if I shout out 'NA~BEH~' real loud. And there and then I felt like laughing.
And the Gigaloop starts. If you've never watched Coupling, a Gigaloop is when you try to control your laughter during a formal event eg. funeral but the sensation just gets bigger in your chest.

I had a stomach cramp trying not to laugh out loud. Tears were running down my cheeks but it was fine because a girl was doing a sad impressionistic dance then.
Never drink Yeo's Chin Chao drink during intermission. Gets you high. And it gives you stomach cramp.
At least I get to meet a gal I've lost contact with for 6 months. I've forgotten her name. But I do remember her.
I think she felt insulted when she called out my name and I went blink blink stare blink. I remember you, really.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Update on the update

Erm. No it wasn't about me mentioning sexual experience behind the back alley of Brunswick KFC.
It wasn't about me cursing on stage.
It was especially NOT, about IH food, or homosexual ex's.
It was about me talking about touching as many girls as you can in IH. Apparently from my poor attempt to make a humourous speech, I've upset the head of college.
I thought it was going to be a short 5 minute apology.
Until she broke into tears.
Again, I was dumbfucked and I felt like a prick.
When I'm behind the mic stand, everything I say has a totally different weight and meaning, according to Jane.
And she said I shouldn't have brought myself to such low level.
I'm guilty as charged and I don't think there's any other thing I can do except for apologising. And live through it.
While I was making the speech, I really thought it was funny. I still think it's funny. But I guess, I picked the wrong place and the wrong time. To the wrong people, with the wrong topics.

At the back alley of KFC.

Deep inside the uni jungle. Blue and Gold.

Nothing could be better. Nothing.
It's my last(?) formal dinner and I was on high table.
I got to take photos for the last time. I got to make a speech, which surprisingly everyone seemed to enjoy and laughed.
And I received this Harry Leong award.
It means I've contributed to IH for the past three years, been actively involved blah blah blah. You know the drill.
It wasn't the one that I applied for initially, but you know, it's better than nothing. Hopefully I'll even get some cash.
So I can get my ticket to Japan.
Great night. Times like this I hope I could stay in IH forever. But then again, no. Not a good idea.
I guess I'm just feeling heavy. To leave.

*Update: Apparently I need to apologize to Jane, the head of college for my speech. It's a tricky thing, because I have no idea which part of it offended her. There're so many. If I say: I'm sorry about mentioning sex behind KFC. And she might say: What? What sex behind KFC, I'm talking about you cursing on stage! And I'll say: oh that... yes.. I'm sorry about that too. Hmm. tricky.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

America is a huge, huge mistake - Freud

Shit! That's Granpa's 4-star dragon ball!

A Message (Coldplay) + Kingdom Come (Coldplay) + Flower (Moby) + Wrong Impression(Natalie Imbruglia) = 16 minutes 54 seconds = how long it took me to finish Princes Park today.
Finally broke through the 17 minutes barrier.

I was technically numb when I finished though. Couldn't breathe, white spots appearing everywhere.
I think I scared some children riding their tricycle.
To reward myself, I went to watch Fomula [ver 2.3] by Ryoji Ikeda at the Arts Centre in conjuction with the International Arts Festival. Apparently Ryoji is Japan's leading electronic artist.
I have not heard of him. That's the irony. In Japan some fanatic electronica fans might be working their lives off just to catch his show for once. You know, once in a life time thing.
While I just went: hmm. what should I do tonight? Ryoji Ikeda? The name sounds cool, I might give it a go.
I even got his autograph.
The whole show contains a throbbing centre dot, fast moving perpendicular lines and really loud. noises.
It's really a 'sound' experience. Very surreal. Very postmodern.
Speaking of postmodernism, did I tell you my presentation was over? When I met up with my group mates(grrr!) today and realised they've done nothing, I decided to give up and just enjoy the show. I was beyond angry and actually felt amused.
I think I will pass nonetheless. Yet if I were to have a mace there and then in the cafetaria, I'd put the mace on the table and smash their head to it. Over and over and over again. And then grind their skulls on the mace. Yes. yes.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Birds chipping = 4:04AM

Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli.

It's been a while.
Since I last decided to finish a book in one go.
I must admit I got attracted to the simplicity of the book cover first. From the short introduction I thought it's going to be about some exciting mysteries. However it turned out to be a heartwarming highschool self discovery encounter.
It was a good read. Apparently it was a big hit around, even in Japan. I got the image above from the Kinokuniya website.
The book is about a girl who's basically a walking collection series of chicken soup for the soul. You know, life changing stuff.

It made me thought about my own highschool life. I can relate to it. All the being unpopular and 'having no friends' kind of flashbacks. Uurhghah. ururhg. No, shoo go away!
I wouldn't say it's a fantastic book. Pink, happy, fluffy, and cheerful books are not my type. I'm into cynical destruction, randomness and kinky type of books. Ahem. Cough.
A good bed time story book nonetheless.
Whilst refreshing my page I realise there're still people visiting my blog at this hour. What are you doing? Go to bed!
What? What about my presentation tomorrow? Oh Sh-

Sunday, October 09, 2005

Say it like this: Poo-tah!

Got sucked into the Hayao Miyazaki craze and bought the Studio Ghibli boxset for $60. It was on discount, what could I do?
So at 2am yesterday I started watching Laputa: The Castle in the Sky(1986). I remembered watching it halfway when I was 13 during junior high. It was in this 'activity' room that filled with the stench of sweaty socks.
We pretty much did a lot of stuff in that room: Little skits, movies, presentation, rehearsal. So whenever I thought of those moments such as watching Laputa, or the sex educational tape, or the mathematical documentary about Pi, or acting as Cinderella's mother, I thought of smelly socks.
Anyway, I was watching the movie right, then Parky came over to print his assignment. When I told him the title of the movie, he raised his eyebrows, which I interpreted as:
Doesn't Puta means vagina in Spanish or Portugese? so Laputa would be 'THE vagina' in French.
There and then we couldn't watch the movie with a straight face anymore. We couldn't stop snickering whenever the lead characters said the line: 'We're looking for LAPUTA!' or 'We've found the core of LAPUTA!'
I reckon it'd be a good idea to play the drinking game with this movie. Everytime Laputa is uttered , you skull.
Anyways, I've done my research. Apparently Puta means whore, bitch or prostitute; not the vagina. Yet in Spanish this word is used as the word "fuck" in English.

Tu Puta madre = your fucking mother
Puta!! = Fuck!!
Ala puta!! = Holy fuck!!
Aqui esta tu puta comida. = here is your fucking food.
Ando putiando. = I'm fucking around.

Eyyy. Another informative yet useless session brought to you by the braincells of my pathetic little mind. Enjoy.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Joke of the month.

I was sitting in a cafeteria recently, next to a woman (blonde), who was engrossed in her newspaper. One of the headlines blared: "12 Brazilian Soldiers Killed."
She shook her head at the sad news.
Then, turning to me, asked:

"How many is a brazilian?"

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

IQ Test: Find the odd one out.

Ah. These are the drawings I used to enter the ICAC competition.
From left: dog, plane, young Stanley Kubrick and Sam L. Jackson.

Can you guess which one won first prize?
I'll anounce it two days later.
No I'll do it now actually. It's Stanley. I still think it's ridiculous.
Hmm. I sound like I'm showing off. Then again, maybe I AM trying to brag. What? What? What's your problem?

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Nola. I was talking to my parents.

Is there anyone sitting next to you now? If there is, ask them to leave you alone. Gone? Good. Now look around and see if there's anyone that'd sneak and peek behind your back.
Everything's tip top? Great. Now lean closer to the screen. Because I'm gonna let you into one of the biggest secret ever.
Question: While chatting on MSN, do you pay any attention to the status bar under your chat window?
You know, the one that says: 'Last message received at 10:43pm on 04/10/2005' or 'pReTtyGal is writing a message'? Yup. That one. Especially when it says who who who is writing a message.
Have you ever wondered what's actually going on when the status bar says he/she is 'writing a message'?
What actually triggers THAT message?
Does it appear when you put your cursor on the window? Or does it appear only when you start typing?
Now lean closer. Because I've got the answer.
I've tried it with my trustworthy friend, X. The message only appears AFTER you started typing.
Putting the cursor in the text box doesn't show it.

Of course. Allow some time delay. Say, a few seconds. But yea. That was the conclusion. The message only appears when you're actually typing in the text box.
So now you're asking, so what's the big deal?
It's a FUCKING big deal!
Have you ever experienced this: You're chatting with someone you're interested in. You type a message and you wait anxiously for his/her reply. Perhaps you were asking something important.
The status bar shows that person is 'writing a message' for 9 minutes. And after all that you get a reply that says: LOL.
And you thought to yourself. He/she must've been away.
That's not true. My experiment tells us that he/she was trying to type something, but didn't know what to type and ended up giving you a 'oic' or 'lolz' reply.
He/she was there all the time.
Have you got any IDEA how this could severely contribute to the psychology behind the MSN flirting world?
People who understand this, you'd understand. If you're still saying huh I don't get it. Then at least you've gotten yourself a worthy general knowledge.
Now go show off to your friends and pretend it's your discovery you piece of short limb pimple face shit.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Poke poke.

To gas, or not to gas?

Was at the Laguna asian grocery store.
Bumped into this girl I met a week ago. The thing is, I don't remember her name. So I asked for it.
Which, I admit, was kind of embarassing.
She told me her name in a 'hrmmph' way and said I was mean because she remembered my name. Then again, who could possibly forget my name?
It's unfair, to judge me like that. I should be given a handicap in the game of remembering names, of course, if such game exists.
So yea, I went 'oh yea right that was your name thank you' and moved on to the next aisle. 10 minutes later I was queuing to pay. I bumped into her again.
Guess what? I've forgotten her name. Again.
Of course, I didn't tell her that. But I felt really, really guilty.
I told my friends about it. They told me: Dude, because you don't find her hot. or pretty. or both.
Then we started talking about asking women's names.
This is your reaction when you see a hot girl:
This is your reaction when you see an ugly girl:
Anyway, I actually thought that girl was cute. Meh, she'd already have a boyfriend anyway. Shut up. I'm not chicken.
If she's reading this: sorry I couldn't remember your name.
Sorry for poking you too.

No you don't cut the spring rolls in halves!

Yum Cha.
In Malaysia, we call it Dim Sum*. It's the same thing, just different names. It's like calling barbeque 'grilled meat on hot plate'.
What's that Daniel? Oh you just came back from Sydney? What's that? Krispy Kreme doughnut? No, I'm fine. Diet actually. Seriously. No, it's ok. I'm writing my blog here. No, I really shouldn't. No, stop it. Please don't Uuuuuuuuuhoohooh fuck me that tastes so good. Oh the taste of doughnut. Mmm.
Yes. Yum Cha! It is quite interesting on how we have a ritual on Yum Cha's. For Malaysians, at least, we always start with the steam ones. Then maybe we'll order some porridge, some 'Loh Mai Kai's, and proceed to the fried dishes. We have desserts in the end like some egg tarts or mango puddings.
That's how we normally do Yum Cha, or Dim Sum.

However, today, I went Yum Cha with my soon-to-be family in law. They don't follow that sequence at all.
I was dumbfucked for some time there. We started with a fried dish. Then we have dessert. After that we had the steam ones. And then dessert. And then a fried one.
I was like Whoa! Hey! What's this!? You're turning at the wrong corner! Stop! You just ran through a yellow light!
Have you seen those dishes that made you go 'shit, who the hell's gonna order those? ' Uhuh, my question was answered today.
At one point, they ordered a fried rice and beef kuey teow.
Huuueueeaah?! You don't ordrer fried rice on Yum Cha! What the hell is beef kuey teow anyway?
It was a mind blowing experience. Not to mention eye opening. Hong Kong people, they're so cool.
Who says you need to have a sequence to Yum Cha?

*Not to be confused with Dim Sim. Dim Sim does. not. exist. Australians made them up so they could deep fry leftovers and sell it back to customers. No, seriously, can you actually tell me what's in a Dim Sim?

Anonymous quote

"Eating KFC and Indomee are like watching porn: It feels good doing it, but you feel damn guilty afterwards."