Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Before the football match between Argentina and Brazil, an Argentinian condom company came up with this ad to show the Brazilians what they were going to do to them.
Brazil won the match and their football organization replied to the ad.
Serve the them right for showing such buggerish attitude.
And have you read about Malaysia's New Toilet Revolution?
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Spot the difference (mark X, at least two)
I DON'T CARE.
All I want to know is...
WHAT DOES THE MILLIONAIRE DATUK K HAVE THAT WE DON'T?
Congratulations to K and S, commiserations to all other Malaysian men.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Clever girl: What do you call an intelligent, good looking, sensitive man?
Sisuahlai: Don't know. Me?
Clever girl: No. A rumour. Now stop disturbing me. (clever girl friends overheard and laughed!)
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Sisuahlai blogging in Kuching.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Easier than you think, not
It is not easy to speak good English. We really cannot use our Kuching brand of English in England. There are just too many short-cut, lazy bad habits in our daily Kuching-English conversation. Furthermore, the England brand of English is not anything like the English we learn in Primary School. This recent example highlights the problem:
Kuchingite in London fish market: The prawn you sell how much?
English fish-monger: Sorry?
K: I want to buy prawns. (pointing at the prawns)
E: Right mate, how cha whonnit?
K: Fresh only.
E: (laughs) How much prawn do you want?
K: Oh, sorry. Five pounds.
E: In weight or money?
K: Five only.
E: Yer said five pounds, iz that in weight, or money?
K: (puzzled look) Aiyo so difficult. Give me purs-tic bag, I choose.
E: Here. (hands over a plastic bag)
K: Nah, this how much... (hands the content back to the fish-monger)
E: Jez over six quid, but I'll geevit fer six.
K: No squid. Just prawn thankiew. How much you say? (the Kuchingite gave him £10 note) Got change or not?
E: (laughs, he gestured six pounds and took the tenner from the Kuchingite) Six English pounds.
The Kuchingite walked away, fuming after that encounter. After ten twenty yards, it suddenly dawned on him... he walked back to the fish-monger.
K: Give me my ten beg.
K: Give, my, ten, beg.
K: I want my ten DOLLAR beg.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Sarawakian Bloggers Unite
Thursday, August 10, 2006
None of his utensils have touched animal products. Pure, he say. Siao, I say.
So he showed me how to prepare a typical vegetarian dish. He is originally from Bangalore. Some town, or city (whatever) in India.
"(My real name), this is how you make masala dosa!" He smiled and inadvertently showed his uncaffeinated spotlight bright white teeth... si beh kherng. He held up a potful of batter. Dosa is made from lentils and rice blended with water and left to ferment overnight, in his case, a few hours. This is life in the fast track. We are doctors, no patience. Patients are sick people.
He folded his sleeves and washed his hands ala scrubbing operating theatre-style. "Follow me."
I said, "No thanks. I can learn by observation, no need participation."
This was when he started crushing well-boiled potatoes with his bare hands. He added salt, spice (could not rememeber names, the only Indian spice I know is called curry), and onions into the mashing frenzy.
Then the dosa batter was spread on a heated pan. While another pot cooked the spiced up potatoes. The dosa slowly turned golden. And the cooked spice exuded this heavenly aroma. I wish one day there is an internet "olfactory" technology so that one can share the sense of smell. Yum.
"This is a classic vegetarian dish from my hometown." He preached some more about the virtues of being a vegetarian.
I nodded, not listening. I was too busy stuffing my face with masala dosa.
"Try this coconut chutney." He pushed more food in my direction.
With food of such high quality, I will swear loyalty to any allegiance. "Thank you Apoo." I left his kitchen, happily satieted, convinced this is THE lifestyle.
I went home an hour later, and seriously annoyed my wife. "Sorry for not informing you earlier." My guilt was evident in my voice, body language. I just could not have another meal after the masala dosa.
"I just have your chicken soup, ok?" I gingerly slurped the broth.
Proud, I was a vegetarian for one full hour! (I just heard on TV that vegetarian is a primitive word for bad hunter).
Who serves the best dosa (toh-sei) in Kuching? Let me know.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Someone asked me what's Hokkien for embarrassing. It took me 30 minutes to come out with the answer. Now, that is truly lau kwi. Like incontinence in public places. (the answer to public incontinence can be found on this ship...)
Saturday, August 05, 2006
A personal blog
I have given in my resignation letter (tears streaming down my cheek, yes, play that violin) a week ago. I feel so liberated. Liberated from doctoring responsibilities and the stress of making sure my patients get better, and getting top level care, no less. I have discovered that in my years as a doctor, I am really a paranoid person. If I had a complicated case, I would just sit and think about it all day and everywhere, during dinner, in the shower, in bed, and if I thought of a better solution, I would call the ward, even at 3 in the freakin morning, just to tell the nurse about what needed to be done. Kerrazy. But that's me. So I am glad I've detached myself from all these. I need a break. For those of you who still stick to this job with the same amount of passion as the first day you walked onto a hospital ward, hats off to you, you really have my admiration. Not you lot who sit in your private clinics for few hours a day and then head off for golf or whatever you do after work. I mean real passion.
But I am going to miss my working environment, the wonderful people I've worked with in the Emergency Department. I have never seen a more dedicated group of nurses, who in my opinion, earn peanuts for the amout of effort they put in. Someone told me that for anyone who want to be a nurse in the UK health system, he or she must have led a terrible past life, I could clearly see why now. But the department is not made of doctors and nurses, the people who really hold this place together are the radiographers, lab technicians, ambulance crew, porters, hostesses, receptionists and cleaners. I have so much respect for them.
Alright, enough of this boring girly-type oscar-night speech. By the way, my sis thinks blogging are for teenagers and for bo su cho people, so if I continue with the above tone, I might totally fail to prove her wrong. (She is so adorable. I hope her new business venture pays her better than her current job.)
This is Week One of work freedom. But someone has to pay the bills. Thankfully my skills are not confined to hospital work. I have made more money this week (at home) than had I gone to work all week. In ringgit terms, I have made more than RM10k in the last 4 days. If I can keep this up, my wife says I'll be heading for retirement very soon. No, no. Me retire? Kerazzy. I need to work, I get bored too easily (so Mr Kenny Sia, who I suspect secretly reads this blog, you'd better write something interesting on your blog, my attention span cannot hold it any longer... he he, I have gone off xiaxue, she has lost all ability to blog!)
Going back to me... I much prefer helping people free of charge. I will elaborate on this next time. So it's good to be rich, only if the wealth can be shared by the people close to you (first!) and then the rest of the world. To quote a popular philisopher, most of us only care about money makin', selfishness got us in the the wrong direction (Justin Timberlake in Where Is the Love).
Ok more about me, I am beginning to enjoy cooking. My current fave is tuna salad. I don't mean canned tuna that taste like salty chicken. This is fresh tuna steak lightly pan-fried, served with fresh baby lettuce dressed with red wine vinegar and olive oil. The keyword here is FRESH ingredient, jamie oliver-style. We have bought some crab meat yesterday, it is still in the fridge. We could not decide on the best way to prepare it. We'll sleep over this for now. If any of you sisuahlai readers want to help, please e-mail your best crab recipe. I might video-blog your recipe, who knows.
Ok, enough about me. What's this about a datuk pepper-sprayed our beloved ex-PM? So bo kah si. Respect for the elderly.