A Christmas Story (18SX)

Do you remember when you were 14? When your hormones raged within your post-pubescent body? When you were young, dumb and full of cum?

Well, I was never like that. *ahaks*

Anyway, it was Christmas that year in 1985. Sammi looked different that night. We'd always seen the girls in their t-shirts and shorts but that night, the were all dressed up and made up. Sammi wore a little white blouse and a little white miniskirt - which was all the rage back in the 80s. I knew then, that I would dance with her that night. And dance with her I did.

As the night progressed, the music got slower and dreamier. And soon I was locked in an embrace with her as we swayed into the night. She leaned against my chest and snuggled her head against my neck, her eyes closed. (I have no way of knowing that, of course, but since it's my fantasyreminiscence I'll picture it any way I want to! ;P) And then it happened.

"Oh-hoh!" screamed Sammi's bratty little brother, "You touch my Che-Cheh's backside!" My long masculine arms, wrapped around her body, had extended innocently just a little below her perky butt. There was no grabbing or anything. The hands were just... erm... resting.

The whole house broke into laughter. And Sammi broke away from me, taking with her the possibility of what might have been. Which would probably have been nothing, since I was only 14 at the time. But still... *sigh*

The little shit! I hope someone did the same to him when he was trying to score. Not that I was. Heh.

Aww Crap... It's X'Mas Again!

Whoever came out with the phrase, "it's the thought that counts" must surely be someone who gave shitty presents because, like it or not, it's never that. Truth is, nobody gives a rat's hairy ass about your thoughts. It's the GIFT that counts, Skippy!

How many times have you received a Christmas present and end up chucking it aside. Or worse, recycling it for the next innocent victim? Or worse yet, curse the cheapskate who gave it to you behind his back? "I gave you the best present in the world and you gave me this crap? You bastard!"

Today, Mae and I were at Borders when we bumped into my sis. "Don't you dare give me book for Christmas," she snarled. Tough. It was already picked out and paid for by the time she said it. Mae had already figured out what we would give her this year but I said, "No, she's my sister and I wanna handpick her present." Yup, I'm a regular Air-Supply-vannila-ice-cream-soda-pop-loving-sentimental schmuck on a tight budget.

Sure, a spike in the budget could result in a gift that's both thoughtful and tasteful but having to buy nearly 40 gifts a year, there's only so much we can do. And so my poor little siblings end up getting some cheap-ass presents from us which they probably hate, since I never seem to know what they like.

Fortunately, it all works out. Because none of my siblings know what we like too. The bastards. Heh.

Ho Hum Dim Sum

just aiiight, y'know...

This is from our last trip up North. Would have blogged this sooner but work got in the way. :)

For some reason, people associate Ipoh with Dim Dum. So when we got to Ipoh, Mae and I decided that we would sample Ipoh's finest. But here is where our problems began. Anyone familiar with Ipoh would tell you to get your Dim Sum at Foh San Restaurant. In fact, the reputation of Foh San's Dim Sum is legendary making it an important landmark in Ipoh - an institution, if you will. And so even years back, we decided that we would one day eat at Foh San.

Enter Auntie Mooi. When Auntie Mooi came to us as a confinement lady, we often asked her about her Kampar and Ipoh, since she was from that region. We announced to her that we would make a trip to Ipoh just to go to Foh San. And that, perhaps, was our mistake to make.

"Nobody eats at Foh San anymore," Auntie Mooi declares, and then she added scoffingly, "unless you count labourers and contruction workers." (I swear she said that!) Apparently, according to Auntie Mooi anyway, people go to Foh San for the cheap prices and the large servings. "The good Dim Sum is at Yoke Fook Moon Restaurant." She went on to advise us to go early to beat the crowd. We listened to Auntie Mooi. With her gentle demeanour, sincere face and the fact that she was caring for our newborn baby, we bought her story.

And so, on Day 2 of our trip up North, we awoke at 6:00 am to sample Ipoh's finest Dim Sum. That's six bloody a.m.!! And was it worth it? Unfortunately not. Sorry folks, Yoke Fook Moon Restaurant is really nothing spectacular. Sure, the Dim Sum is fairly easy on the palate, the ingredients were pretty fresh and the presentation acceptable, but it was nothing to shout about. And definitely nothing worth waking up at 6 for! Don't get me wrong; it wasn't bad. It just wasn't great.
Mae and I kicked ourselves for not going to Foh San. Which goes to show that sometimes, just sometimes, you have to run with the crowd - especially where food is concerned. We took Auntie Mooi's word over hundreds of Ipoh folks and we regretted. *sigh*

Looks like we'll have to make another date with ol' Foh San!

Girly Boy

For some reason, we often get strangers who ask us if Jesse's a boy or a girl. This is mind-boggling to me.

As far as Mae and I are concerned, Jesse's got a pretty boyish face. Also, looking at the boy go, it's pretty obvious. Firstly, he's loud. He's always making some kind of noise or other. And he's always up and about, running around and touching stuff. He's also got pretty bushy eyebrows for a kid. So there's no way anyone could mistake him for a little girl. I mean, you're more likely to think he's a little monkey than a little girl.

And so we ask them why.

Apparently it's the hair. It's all soft and brownish, and it's never been cut. (Unless you count that time Mae's mom lobbed off a couple of centimeters but let's never ever talk about that again!) And while I know we should really consider bringing the boy to a barber, I've grown quite accustomed to his unruly locks. Makes him looks dangerous - like a vicious little teddy bear on a bad hair day.

However, to some people, that's exactly what little girls look like. Vicious little teddy bears on bad hair days. I thought only grown up girls look like that. Heh!

Penis Van Lesbian

... and proud of it!

This one was shot only last weekend at my brother's house, Jesse's Uncle Stephen. It was a dark and stormy night, and the boy was near to having his buns frozed-off. And so we got Uncle Stevo to bring the boy a t-shirt to keep warm. Bad mistake.

Now, my sibling and I are alike. We're funny guys who like to crack a joke or two. But Stephen is the evil one among us. And hence the t-shirt he got poor Jesse to wear. Still, it reminded us of a joke we used to tell at the dining table.

There was once a talented entertainer who, tried as he might, could not make it big in Hollywood. After having gone for audition upon audition, he was near to quitting when he chanced upon the Casting Agent who would change his life forever.

At the audition, this lively young man did his thing - he sang the house down, danced up a storm and flexed his acting muscles. The agent was so impressed, he have our guy the standing ovation. Yet, he was perplexed as to why this young man had not already made it. "Tell me, young fellow, what is your name".

"My name is Penis Van Lesbian," answered the young man sheepishly. And at once the agent knew that the young entertainer's problem. With such and unfortunate name, it was no wonder that Hollywood would not crown their new prince. Then a spark of brilliance hit the experienced agent.

"We shall have to change your name a little, if you want to make it in this town". The agent went on to assure that the meaning of his name would be preserved. At once the young showman agreed. If fame and fortune was available at only the price of his name, then surely it was a price he could afford. "Let's do it then," said the agent, "from this day forth, you shall be known as Dick Van Dyke."

Yeah, dinner was always lively at the Tan household. Especially with our favourite joke. And one day when little Penis... um... I mean, little Jesse grows up, I'll share this joke with him too. But then again, by then nobody would know who Dick Van Dyke was. Oh well.

Note: Stephen's blogging too these days. Check it out but remember he's evil. Hahhah.

Jesse's Girls

starting young

Here's a shot from our last trip up north. It's Jesse with his 2nd cousins, little Daniika and her little sister, Eireisha. I probably screwed up the spelling of their names. But that's what happens when people pick exotic names for their kids - nobody remembers how to spell it. Now James, on the other hand, is a name that is both easily spelt and pronounce. Except for my secondary school supervisor who used to call me "Jame" without the "s" in the end. *sigh*

It was Jesse's first meeting with the girls. In fact, it was also the first time Mae and I met Eireisha. Little Daniika, however, we first met when she was a mere 3 days old. She arrived almost 2 months ahead of schedule and was the tiniest baby I had ever held in my arms. Today, both she and Little Eireisha are playing big sisters to my kid.

Jesse, for some reason, was as well-behaved as can be expected. In fact, he was quite the ladies' man that day. Except for the bit where wehe was literally drooling all over the girls. But then again, which guy doesn't drool all over cute girls?

I've Been Busy

I have so much to tell you. Yes, you.

But I've been busy like crazy. December is a crazy month for me. Even more so this year, what with all that's happening in my life right now. It's a pressure cooker right now, and that's never a good time for silly, happy little things like blogging. An then there's Christmas around the corner. *sigh* All I want for Christmas is some peace and quiet.

Yesterday, amidst the flurry I snapped at Brownie, my poor colleague. Poor Brownie was only trying to be helpful. This will take many free Paan Meins to heal. But heal it must.

So, no blogs for awhile. At least until some of this pressure lets up. Take care and come back once in awhile. *cak*