The Green Fingers In Me

I admit, i've not had any green fingers.

Over the period of one year, i've murdered and killed numerous plants on different occasion. The main culprit was overwatering.

I thought i was doing the plant a favour by watering them. But i was wrong, there is such thing as killing them with water. Root rot was the main reason why they died.

On different occasion, i over fertilised and totally burned the leaves, but managed to save them on time, by removing the top soil and replacing it with fresh soil.

Only on two occasion that the plants succumbed to parasites. Namely the mealy bugs. These pesky pest would multiply under the leaves and initially you would had thought some spider made some nest underneath with some spider-webby-looking ...err...web.


Notice the whitish looking thingy on the stalk of this calathea variant??

Out of the two plants with mealy bugs infestation, i managed to save the one above. The other one, a palm tree, was beyond salvage as the root was also infested and the only way is to rid the whole pot away.

For the record, i've also killed 1 Pandan leave plant and also 1 Kari Leave plant. How is that for being green? Both was because of over watering.

Lessons learnt about watering. It took me almost a year to realise that i wasn't doing any good to the plant if i over water it.

Rules of the thumb is that i should only water after the top 1/4 inch of soil is dry. Or just let it dry between watering. 2 to 3 days interval works fine if the plants are exposed to the sun. Otherwise, some plants only need watering once a week!

Fertiliser shouldn't be used like it's some miracle drugs for growth. Use it sparingly, if the instruction says to use 2 tablespoon, just use one. It's safer that way.




Cactus..aint they pretty?


Money Plant on kitchen's window with the cacti above

Wifey always love Dieffenbachia and also Crotons. Which explained why we had this much of these plants at home. However, do take note that the sap from the plants could be toxic to a certain extend. hence, proper handling and also respect for the plant must not be taken for granted.


Dieffenbachia


Another variantion of Dieffenbachia


And anohter...


Grim reminder of the once large Dieffenbachia


Some crotons...


and anohter variant of crotons


Anohter Crontons...this time a tree like looking one.


One of the crotons i overwatered and repotted to save it...


And this too, this almost died because of overwatering....

Then, there are other plants where the scientific names are not even pronounciable by mere green finger wannabe like me.


A small mother in law plant...


Some big leaves plant....


Japanese Bamboo


Some very fragile shrubs which needs loads of TLC


This looked like the Pachira, but it isn't...


can sometime tell me why my aloe vera looked like it's dying???


The calathea making a full recovery!!!

Gardening is soothing. It could be frustrating sometimes when it doesn't go the way it should. I hope that these plants, which were planted with much TLC by the nurseries where i purchased them, would not die in my hand. I tend to them everyday, removing any dead leaves and checking for pest which might be present.

Currently, my balcony is almost camouflaged by the plants. Wait up while i paint my face...

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Ryan - 39th Weeks and Waiting...

Went for a check up last Saturday and Ryan is now 3.35kg big and almost 20 inches tall.

However, Dr. Raman, which was fresh out from hosting the FIGO conference, told us that it won't happen until a week or two time.

"Akan Datang", he quipped.

"Got contraction or not", he asked.

"Cervix not dilated yet", he confirmed.

Then later on Saturday, we went to OPA for the Raya Open House. The usual suspects are there, as usual and it was catch up time again.

Jokes were flying all around and one particular Old Putera (OP) was asked if he was related to the Mongolian Bombing's suspect. Can't help it since the name was almost the same to a certain extend.

Also present were the Form 5 boys, which will be taking their SPM on the 20th November. I wish them and all of you good luck! Don't worry, i'll be at you passing out on the 22nd December this year.

Che Aris has the best expression of them all.

"What happened?", pointing to wifey's very pregnant tummy.

Wishes came in from left and right and tips were again, exchanged amongst the wives of OPs which most of them are proud mohter in their own right.

Congrats to Upak too. He is also expecting a baby boy next year and things couldn't be better for RMC's future. Chips will have a boy, Iqbal will have a boy. I have a boy, Upak will have a boy. That makes 4 future RMC boys in the making. :)

It's funny though. With Ryan's due date coming this soon (it could be like now as i'm blogging this), i have a mixed feeling. Emotions and physically wise.

I'm sure it would be emotional to see my first born coming out to this (cruel) world. Perhaps i would be so overwhelmed by emotions that i forget to blog about it live? (Goddamit, still thinking about blogging ah? KNN!!!)

Whatever it is. I do not know what to answer anyone when they ask me how i feel.

"So how you feel?" Bandit asked last week.

"Err...excited?", I anwered while shoving a serving of BBQ chicken breast into my mouth.

"excited or not?", anohter friend asked on Saturday.

"Yeah, we hope the baby won't come out like now, i still want to eat my satay and laksa", I answered.

Frank Beltran, an OP in his 60's told me that a woman giving birth is like me trying to pass motion while doing handstand. If i could sh*t while doing a handstand, i would know how that feels like to be giving birth. I can't do handstand to begin with.

Then, of course, you get all the advise from people that isn't even married yet, let alone having a baby or even gotten pregnant in the first place.

"you know ah, they say first born usually early", a friend said.

"No la, my friend say usually they late!", anohter added.

"But they say Boy usually late la, what more first baby?", anohter interjected.

"eh, you taking Epi(dural) ah?, they say not good one la", one relative quipped.

"My friend say you have to follow confinement practice strictly, if not, you will suffer later in life", anohter added.

You see how many MY FRIEND, YOUR FRIEND, THEIR FRIEND say this and that?

Why no one actually ask us, or more specifically wifey, how she felt?

But of course, we are young what, where got experience?

It doesn't help i guess, with both parents expecting their first grandchild and with no reference on both immediate sides of the family about newborn.

But nevermind that, i'm fully trained. Domesticated. My mum has taught me well and enough to handle a new born. I grew up with my mum babysitting babies as young as a month's old until they are old enough to go to school. I grew up with kids at home. No issues. I'm a family man. No doubt.

We went to church yesterday for Sunday Mass. Nola, no sms this time about anyone being baptised or any FRU presents. It's silly, really.

For the first time since i know wifey and went to church with her on Sunday, we sat separately. No thanks to some church goer which place their precious handbag on the seats next to them like they were booking for someone.

So, i sat an aisle away from her. Was thinking she would go into labour.

Then, she stood up and walk out. Alamak. I got worried. But i can't get out as i'm sitting at the dead end of the aisle. I would be stepping on at least 4 pairs of feet before i could leave. She sms-ed me and told me she wasn't comfortable as the bump was actaully touching the seat infront of her when she stand up.

So, i went out and stood at the church's entrance with her. No one actually offered her a chair until one of the church goer brought a seat to her. Thank you sir! Sorry to say this, but perhaps the church that we go to are pretty superficial. Everyone just wishes each other "peace to you" because they have to, not because they wanted to.

I've lost count of time where i sat next to a person which looked like he/she would eat me up. I tried smiling, maybe my face are just not pleasant enough.

Heck, i've even nearly had a brush with accident once with this youth driving so fast and did not stop at the junction in Taman Tun, showed me the finger because i horned at him (i was on the main road and i had to stop for him) only to end up parking next to me near the church...and i had the last laugh when he sat 2 row away from me in church.

He never did look at me when i offer him peace though.

Or how about those that act holier than thou and then once church's is over, their own spiteful and attitude returns?

After Mass, we went to anohter church, as they were having sales on plants. Last week, we spent RM30 and bought a few nice plants. Uncle Joseph and Uncle Thomas, which runs the nursery in their free time, nuturing the plants and selling them so that the money would go to that particular church. I frankly felt that church has nicer people, more genuine to help and offer help. The two old men even offered to help me bring the plant to the car, parked a good distance away, as they notice wifey is notably pregnant. We bought more plants yesterday and gladly gave them more than what the plant was worth as it was for a good cause.

It made me think, why so different in attitude, was it the location of the church? With one set in an affluent neighbourhood, when anohter was in a more mixed neighbourhood?

Maybe it got to be with the people's attitude and mentality. The richer you are, the less human value you would have. The more well to do you are, you tend to think and feel others are less of a human and could be treated like some outcast. Prove me wrong, will you Malaysians?

I've seen a lady screamed at the cashier at Tesco, for reasons only known to her and the cashier. I've never came across any rude cashier in Tesco, but i've came across some in Giant One Utama.

I cooked lunch for wifey yesterday, as opposed to us eating out after Sunday Mass. I was still a bit sad that i had to miss the Powerman race in Lumut a day before. But i promised wifey i won't have anymore outstation race or even bike ride until the baby is safely borned.

I was also feeling a bit down yesterday, as some event took place over the week, which question my believe in things i've always believed in strongly. Family that is. I felt helpless to a certain extend, and angry and frustrated on the other end.

My family came over last minute yesterday, to have an early birthday celebration with me to mark me turning 3-0. My sis bought some dishes while mum brought over some home cooked food and all i did was cook the rice. Wifey bought 4 slices of cakes, of which 2 were of the chocolate variety, 1 durian cake and one cheese cake. That meant a lot to me. My family is what you would call the typical chinese family that don't express our love openly verbally but rahter by action.

Without fail over the past 8 months of wifey's pregnancy, my mum has diligently bought fishes for me to cook for wifey. She has helped me marinate chicken to be stewed, yong tau foo to be fried, fish paste to cook porridge with, and tonnes of other things which i never did ask for. She brought along 6 bottles of high grade sesame oil for wifey's confinement yesterday, along with some dried oyster which would be used to cook for wifey as well. All this, without even asking her to.

And that made me felt that the very thing i believe in, the family institution is strong and very much alive despite some ass burning ear paining talk about "you younger, you listen" mentality.

As for now, there is still 12 more hours should Ryan decide to come out on my Birthday.

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Mat Rempit : *Globalised*

Hey, what do you know? All these rebranding of Mat Rempit and mat Konvoi has gathered enough international attention.

Check this page out : Los Angeles Times

Extract from the online paper:
It's the roar of rebellion
By John M. Glionna, Times Staff Writer
November 6, 2006

THE traffic light lingered red as the motorcycles congregated at a crowded downtown intersection — engines revving, drivers fidgeting. Dozens more filtered through the idling cars to the makeshift starting line and soon there were 60 cycles in all, buzzing like angry insects.

Then the light turned green and chaos ruled.

In a renegade roar of noise and smoke, they were off. Teenage girls riding pillion held on tightly as their boyfriends popped wheelies, vying for show space, racing fast and furious into the humid October night.

One rider turned his head back to confront cyclist Wazi Hamid, shooting him a defiant "Can you catch me?" glare before slicing left in front of a lumbering bus and careening in the wrong direction up a one-way side street.

"I call it a motorized typhoon!" Hamid shouted over the wind's scream. "Racers love the sound of their bikes — that 'waaaaah, waaaaah!' is music to their ears. As the night goes on, their maneuvers get more dangerous, the stunts get crazier and crazier."

Across Malaysia, weekend nights are mat rempit time.

That's when tens of thousands of mat rempit, or illegal racers, take to the streets in a noisy show of daring, speed and questionable judgment. Factory workers and fry cooks, soldiers and students, these Malaysian Marlon Brando wannabes are typically bored teens with too little money and too much time in this orderly Muslim nation, experts say.

But the government has recently declared war on the youthful street subculture. Since the races became popular in the mid-1990s, scores of youths have been killed. The fatality rate has surged in recent years, leaving officials wondering, "Why only in Malaysia?"

Authorities have imposed heavy fines, jail time and a lifelong driving ban, and they've forced repeat offenders to view the autopsies of crash victims. They've also considered confiscating motorcycles and outlawing the bikes within city limits and at major universities.

Still, police say the mat rempit have grown in number to an estimated 200,000 nationwide, menacing other motorists as they compete for money, prestige and women. The racing scene is a two-wheeled version of Hollywood's "The Fast and the Furious" amped on steroids.

SOME thrill seekers turn violent and even deadly, authorities say. After a traffic accident with an illegal racer, a motorist was beaten to death in 2005 by a mob of cyclists. This year, mat rempit used their helmets to attack a driver after an accident in which a cyclist was killed.

"The mat rempit are very aggressive, sometimes even criminal," said Shafien Mamat, deputy of traffic enforcement for police here in the capital. "They're a major problem in our country. Motorists are afraid of them."

The racers have also become a cultural phenomenon, inspiring a popular movie as well as a university study that sought to paint a portrait of the cyclists. One political party wants to turn the races into a tourist attraction.

Rozmi Ismail, a psychologist at the National University of Malaysia who interviewed scores of mat rempit for the 2002 study, calls the practice a coming-of-age ritual.

"It's a social rebellion," he said, "kids saying, 'We don't care about your laws.' "

Many illegal races are underground events akin to American rave parties, complete with sponsors who put up prize money. Others are spontaneous face-offs triggered by a stare or a challenge at an intersection.

"This is Malaysia's showoff culture — kids risking their lives for attention," the researcher said. "At age 18 they're all invincible, right?"

Ahmad Idham, who directed the 2006 film "Remp-It," sought to show the racing culture for what it is: an exhilarating, sometimes deadly sideshow.

"I didn't try to make these racers into supermen. They're just kids expressing their dissatisfaction with society through racing," he said. "Their skills are incredible. But in the end, one mistake and you die. And nobody cares about you anymore."

Wazi Hamid insists Malaysian society has misjudged the young motorcyclists. The 35-year-old former street-racer-turned-professional-motorcyclist has emerged as the maligned youth culture's biggest defender.

Hamid says the daredevil stunts suggest a deeper societal problem: blue-collar youth who feel ignored by their own culture. "It's a last resort of underprivileged kids with nothing to do and nowhere to go," he said.

IN Malaysia, small but speedy Japanese-made motorcycles are inexpensive, a fraction of the cost of a car. Youths may lack the money for discos or movies, but many can pump 5 ringgit, or less than $2, of gas into their tank and run the streets from dusk till dawn, with cash left over for cigarettes.

"The speed is addictive," Hamid said. "You want to be the most skillful. Riders think: 'I'm a very bad man. I want to be the bravest, the best.' "

Hamid says all racers are unfairly lumped together as criminals and delinquents. Invited to take part in a recent government seminar on the issue, Hamid said he was the first racer asked to meet with Malaysian ministry officials.


No, it's light baton, not Keris

In tense confrontations with police panelists, Hamid often showed his emotions.

"I said, 'You want these racers to stay in every night and play with their baby dolls and wear women's clothing so your streets can be emptier?' " Hamid recalled. "These kids are not that kind of people. They're athletes and they're proud of who they are."

Hamid sponsors several youth programs to defuse the problem: He invites the most skillful riders to join his motorcycle performance team as a way to earn money. For the rest, he offers free two-day seminars on bike safety.

The slightly built Hamid, a father of four, calls many of the riders "my boys."

"You've got to talk to these kids," he said. "You have to show them some respect, rather than just strong-arm tactics. Increased enforcement should be used as a last resort. You can't destroy a culture just because you don't like it."

HAMID began riding a motorcycle when he was 12. Before long, he was street racing for bragging rights — long before the practice became a national passion.

He and other challengers performed stunts such as the "balance of death," riding on only the front tire, and the "highchair wheelie," sitting on the handlebars and leaning back to control the bike. They did headstands on their seats and drove with no hands. They raced on darkened highways without headlights, to see who was braver.

"I look back on those days now and feel lucky I didn't get killed," said Hamid, who left the scene for the professional racing circuit and now competes throughout Asia and Europe.

On a recent Saturday night, Hamid toured downtown streets saturated with the acrid odor of thousands of motorcycles.

By night's end, a 21-year-old would be stabbed to death in an early-morning face-off between mat rempit.

Outside Kuala Lumpur, two 15-year-olds were killed during a race on a rural back road. Neither boy had a driver's license, police said.

But at midnight, the night was still young.

Near City Hall, several riders parked their cycles on the sidewalk. With sullen looks, they watched other racers storm a 10-block circuit with reckless abandon, many ignoring the traffic lights in a heated hurry to go nowhere.

When asked about it, a cabdriver moved a hand frantically back and forth like a motorcycle moving through traffic: "Zip, zip, zip, zip. Why? Motorcyclists used to have to look out for cars. Now we have to watch out for them."

Nearby, two young men slouched atop a 110-cc Honda to watch the action.

Joehan Mohammed, 20, works two jobs, as a dispatch driver and restaurant worker. He called racing a release from the real world.

"I work hard — this is my freedom," he said. "On my bike, I can go anywhere."

His best friend, Wan Johari, also 20, frowned. "The police treat us all like criminals," said the woodworker, cigarette in hand, baseball cap worn backward. "That's not who I am."

Within minutes, two police officers approached the men, demanding licenses and insurance papers. They threatened to confiscate their bikes unless the riders moved.

Hamid shook his head in disapproval.

"They're just young — is it a crime to be young? I know that woodworker. He's a creative kid. Why don't Malaysian authorities try and get to know him, help him get through those uncomfortable years between 18 and 25 and emerge a healthy adult?

"Instead, what do they do? They get out their ticket books."

Not far away, a traffic light turned green and another race was on.

Oh ya, incase you do not know what Mat Konvoi is, they claimed to be the non-racing version of Mat Rempit. They don't race, they only Convoy. No wonder they say they were misunderstood!


My FOOT!

Oh ya, remember i mentioned about 2 Live Crews? This must be their pre-race song for Mat Rempits.


R Rated. listen at your own ear-risk

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Teresa Teng

I was back at my parent's palce for dinner yesterday and went through the stacks of CDs that i had, mostly oldies and boring stuffs by today's standard anyway.

I even earned the nickname "Monster from the past" back when i was in school for my knowledge of old songs (yes, when NKOTB and groups like those rules the day).

I chance upon one CD with someone i thought i've seen before. Yeap, it's Teresa Teng. I couldn't resist it. So, i took the CD back for listening.



As i played the first song in the car (Yuè Liàng Dài Bia Wo De Xin - Moon Represent My Heart), i can't help but felt nostalgic.

It's like i was brought back to my younger days when i was growing up watching those old mandarin movie which more often are more tragic than some tamil movie or bollywood movie of today...you people around my age and had to sit through RTM2 on sunday afternoon with all your aunts and uncle watching these tearjerkers back in the 80's knows what i meant la.


Linda Lin Dai - HK Movie Queen

As Teresa sang to me and wifey in the car drive from Gombak to Damansara, the all familiar simple lyrics of songs of yesteryears made me realise why i actually likes them.

The songs are simple. At best innocent. Unlike songs of today that has singer singing like they are constipated (Rihanna - Unfaithful; seriously, she sound like she need some enema), or corny (James Blunt - Your Beautiful ; but that's all he can say about it in the Subway???) or even plain rude (2 Live Crew - Nursery Rhyme ; Jack & Jill went up the hill to have a lil fun???)

And so, today, i ripped the whole CD from the, err...CD and uploaded it into my lifelogger.

Problem is, i can't read chinese and i do not know the title of the songs, except for a few which are too obvious.

But here it is, for your listening pleasure.

Click Here for some old love songs


Tián Mì Mì

Anohter song worth mentioning is Fragrance of the Night (Yè Lái Xia-ng) .This song was originally sang by Li Xiang Lan, a japanese (borned as Yoshiko Yamaguchi in Manchuria in 1920). Then, Teresa hit it with all the right notes. Our home breed Dama Orchestra even released a CD with this name with Tan Soo Suan rendering it out as original as possible. I've seen Dama started from way back in the early 90's as one of the founder is a family friend.

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Phone From China...

My Grandma recently went back to Eng Choon before her 80th birthday to visit her sisters and brothers and living relative. And she brought back with her, this phone...



It cost her RM40 or RMB90...

How Ah Beng is this phone???

If there is any show to imitate Pimp My Ride...this got to be Pimp My Phone...

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Subang 10K:2006

The paper wrote there were 3500 people running this race yesterday.

There were me, amir, ming, ben, adilah, ayam, hakim, achot, doc and family.

I also saw Princess, Kim, Ah Thiam, Weng Aun, Dino, Azam, Ashley and a host of other regulars.



I must say i misses racing. Infact, this race was possible because i promised wifey i'll finish it in record time just incase Ryan decided to come out yesterday.

Also, thanks to Bandit for being so kind and registered me for the race.

As with any other races, anticipation in the early morning was hard to ignore.

I felt like some virgin runner, running my first ever race. Nevermind the fact i posted my PB time last year at the same race with a good 48.44 minutes. I did tell myself to try to at least acheive this again.

So, at 7.30am, the MB flagged us all off. I found myself running a good pace initially. For a good 2km which i did in 10 minutes of jostling with other runners. My heart rate was going skyhigh, touching 180bpm on several occasion. Adrenalin rush. It felt good to be racing, again.

Weng Aun caught up with me and i ran with him for the next 2km or so. Then, i realised my second wind ain't coming anytime soon. Going into my 20th minutes of run, i felt very lethargic. Legs were not listening to what my heart wants to say.

But i ran anyway. Going into my 5th KM in 26 minutes, if i could maintain this pace and sprint when going downhill, there is a good chance i'll do anohter PB.

It was then Amir came from behind me and asked me to push for 48minutes.

He was running without a number as Bandit had some emergency and couldn't pass the bib to him.

Not that it mattered anyway as SJ10k is notorious for not providing ANY water to runners. Cheapskate.

Amir pulled away and i could already see Weng Aun running infront a good distance.

My second wind never came.

It was only after running for 40 minutes and going into my 7km that my leg got it's rhythm back and i tried to keep a 6:00 pace.

No pain whatsoever, but heart rate was a high 171bpm.

At the u-turn, i saw Amir again, he should be doing a good 50minutes or less i supposed. After the U-Turn, i saw Ben, then Ming and then Adilah.

Ben overtook me at the final last 300 meters and i know i won't be able to post any PB.

But that doesn't matter, as i finished the race anyway. Not in any style, but with a friend.

Amir waited for me at the side while wifey snapped pic of me and him.



I ended the race in a slow 57min +/- 1 minute.

Congrats to Kim, Dino, Ashley and Ming for scoring good position!

And congrats to me, for not crashing out and giving up.

This morning, Wifey gave me back my Phiten. She thinks i might need it as she knows my legs are hurting this morning. Almost jello like!

So, there you go, my last race for this year and on the plus side, my PB record wasn't broken by any of my LnE friends, YET!

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3R: Kem Kotek Konfiden

The final episode of the season for 3R was aired yesterday.

Here is whatever i could actually capture on my phone.

My sis in the chinese girl in Team Biru and both Songx and Ladysoul was there with me to marshall the race as well.

You could see both of them clearly, compared to me, which was shown in green looking night vision colour as i unhooked them from their abseil line inside Gua Tempurung.

:)


Part 1 and Part 2


Part 3 and Part 4

Enjoy!!!

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Happy Birthday Granma!!!

Last Saturday was my maternal Granma's birthday. Her 80th to be precise.

My granma came all the way from China, to be precise, in Fujian province where most hokkien immigrants came from. For those that knows what i'm talking about, it's in this village called Eng Choon.

Rumours has it that when hokkien people from this particular place comes from, when they walk on the grass, the grass will die because they are known to be "kiam siap" (that's stingy for you that is hokkien-ly challenged).

She came to Malaysia, to be more precise, Old Klang Road 5th Mile when she was 8 with my great-grandparents. She got married to my grandad when she was in her mid teen and has since then given birth to 8 childrens, of which 2 died of SLE in their mid 30's and 40's.

She wasn't given the Malaysian citizenship until 30 years later. Not going to go into some other stories about why it took her so long when some other immigrants could do so in record time.

My grandad passed away in his 60's. That was almost 17 years ago. Cause was Lung Cancer. Just like granma, they share packs of ciggies (Peter Stuyvesant - Your International Passport to Pleasure), which my uncles would pinch as well when they ran out of theirs.


Their passport to everything...

Heck, i even recalled stealing one stick and shared with a distance tom boy cousin (which has since gotten married and had 2 kids of her own) and ended up choking on the smoke. That experience has some what made me dare to light up a ciggie in the school lab (the experiment was to show what damage the ciggie would do, a stringe with moist cotton inside to represent the lung and we would draw the ciggie by drawing the stringe, but we had trouble lighting it up, so, i literally lit it up...i was 13). Then, later in my teen life, i was averaging 2 packs a day. Wouldn't go anywhere without my Dunhill AND Semporna. But that was history since almost 5 years ago.


My sinful pleasure

They lived in Old Klang Road for a number of years before they shifted to Gombak when the logging business was good back in Karak. My grandfather, his brother and one cousin made a living being middlemen for the logging business, buying and reselling the timber for a living and managed to build one big house where the 3 nucleas family stayed under one roof. Each individual house has 10 rooms inside but only 2 toilets and bathrooms in each units. Water wasn't an issue as for the past 30 odd years, we've been living, washing, cooking from underground water. The taste of the *mineral* water will take some use to for some though.

It was later that when the timber business wasn't as profitable anymore and could only sustain one family, granpa took a brave step and tendered for a canteen job in SM Chong Hwa at Jalan Gombak.

I grew up eating junk food, literally. Granma would fry fish crackers, pack them and sell them for 10sen back in those days. Sweets such as Hudsons, Hacks, Sugus, Barley Mints were heavenly available anyday, anytime. sweet and sour jerkies were dried and pack in the living room, all those junk food you all 80's kids could remember off were sold there and i have 100% access to them. I also get to count those syillings that granpa brings back everyday after the school session is over. Softdrinks were cheap and a plenty at 40sen a bottle. The original Joy Juice, Kickapoo that is, was like a staple diet.

Granpa too, maintained a small farm in the school, which were granted by the principal and granpa gives living skills lecture on planting mung beans and black beans, apart from the multitude of vegetables that he planted and harvest for dinner everytime. The school was literally at the house's backyard. My uncles literally cross the fence to school and they could afford to wake up 5 minutes before the school starts. It was like bording school with full home confort for them when they were growing up.

Infact, the canteen was also where my dad first know my mum...You see, mum helps out at the canteen whenever she could and dad was one of the regular that comes and buy 3 sweets for 5 sens back then.

And so, we had a blast for her last Saturday. Families at the 3 houses were called for the 80th Grand dinner.


5 tables; 2 family, 1 kids and 2 relatives

And horror of horror, there were karaoke in the room at Kum Lun Tai Selayang Mall.


The closed the Restoran in Petaling Street that served good Dim Sum with old waitresses with Attitude.


And this sis of mine had to sing some songs...

Just how much did my everyone drank? For the record, i did not drink as i can't drink. I wonder whose gene i got. Perhaps it's true that i was really picked up at the hospital's trash can 30 years ago.

5 bottles of VSOP Brandy were dried yesterday. I swore granma finished at least half a bottle. For her age, she is mightly strong. Ever seen an old lady her age hailing down a taxi, and give direction to the taxi driver in HOKKIEN, irregardless if the taxi driver knows the language and bring her to Batu Road? Bear in mind, it's still Batu Road to her and not Jalan Chow Kit. She goes there for the market and back then, she would come back with at least 15 chickadees to be reared behind the house and then slaugthered for festivities when they are old enough...

Heck, my grandad never fail to bring me along to Jalan Doraisamy's backlane for a hair cut which was actually a rundown hut behind a sofa factory. That sofa factory was what i termed as sweat shop back then. Smell of the rubber glue and loud chinese blaring music or the occasional Redifusion afternoon chinese drama blaring still lingers in my mind. That barber was granpa's comrade, literally. Back then, it was Mini Bus number 41, which brings us from Gombak to Jalan Dang Wangi.


She started out the night wearing a sweater....next to her is her sister in law, my late granpa's late brother's wife.



then, after some drinking and it became warm....here she is drinking


here she is forcing a relative to drink...sitting down is her cousin in law.


And here, she is drinking, again...


and i almost caught her puffing her ciggie....


and she still could puff out the candles...


And she blew all 8 big candles out...


With her 6 kids...


3 sons in law...


4 daughter in laws...


and a handful of grankids..some of my cousins can't make it for not known reasons...


collage of pics...


and me, my granma's favourite grandson. :)

It will be exciting as my granma hold her new greatgrand kiddo in less than 2 weeks time, marking the continuation of the 3rd generation of Kiam Siap Hokkien Lang in the Family. Hahahahaha!

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Ah Beng-fied My Ride!!!

Don't worry, it's not gone to the dogs yet.



I had my rear spoiler and the LED 3rd brake lights replaced at the authorised accesories shop yesterday. As i've told you all, a segment LEDs were burnt (5 to be precise) and they gladly replace the whole spoiler unit instead of just the LED light.

So, while i was there, i browse through the shop.

As usual, there will be a lot of ah beng stuff at any accesories shop. Things your car won't need and things your car need.

As for me and my years of driving (13 to be precise, legally), i can't live without:

1. Good sound system
2. Good Tinting
3. Good Horns.

The existing single disc player that comes with 4 factory fitted speakers were decent enough for now. I still have my amps and changer safely tucked somewhere. Infact, i have a Nav/Sat system which i'm still trying to find an installer that could hook it up and make it work! So, item 1 was sorted.

The tinting i had was given free. It's worth only about RM250, so there isn't any magical paper that was stuck on the screen, but i paid a bit more for a slightly better tint that does the work as fine and as well, within the legal limits of course. It is not V-Kool or any Kool, but it works. Heck, even V-Kool doesn't promise your car interior to be any cooler under the Malaysian Sun. But i guess i didn't want to spend anohter extra 600 on top of the 250 for a supposedly better tint. Rules of thumb for me is to at least get paper that will not discolour (that would mean avoiding anything GOLD or SILVER).

So, i ended up getting the blue hue tint.


White background used to show coloured tint

And finally, Good horn.

Now, we all know that stock standard horn on most cars are crappy. With exception of the locally made Perdana that comes with good horns, the majority of the other cars are crappy.

I remembered when i was driving my old kancil, a chicken actually crossed the street, stopped and actually didn't budge from the middle of the road. I horned and the chicken nonchantly walked across to the other side.

Gave a whole new meaning to the joke "Why did the chicken cross the street" eh?

So, the very same day, i paid RM70 for a Hella TE12, or known as Twin Horn or to the Ah Beng, BMW Horn.



This is a 400hz/500hz harmonic horn able to blast 110dB(A) at 2 meter distance.

Obviously, When i saw the same chicken again, even blasting from the horn while the bugger was at the road side was enough to give me my last laugh.

It was when wifey bought her car and i decided that she shuold replace her puny sounding horn to a mean sounding one that i was enlightened.

Anyone heard of Stebel horns?

I had a electro-pneumatic horn installed in wifey's car. It's nasty.

Stebel Nautilus is a twin compact horn that churns out 560hz/630hz sound at an ear piercing 115dB(A) at 2meters distance. Go to the link i gave and look for PRODUCTS->ELECTROPNEUMATICS->NAUTILUS SERIES. Now, see the sound icon at the bottom? Press it and you'll know what i meant. The chicken would die of heart attack.

but i didn't have the chance to test it on the same chicken. Maybe that chicken has seen better days and ended up in someone's chicken rendang 3 years ago. You know what they say about "ayam pencen" and good rendang....


Bad Ass Kick Ass

Stebel Nautilus is hard to find. Infact, i can't find it anymore after going back to where i installed it.

Back to the horn issues. As i said, i was browsing through the accesories shop. And i saw they sell Stebel, apart from FIAAM and Hella Horns.

Like a sucker, i went on to look at the Stebel Horn.

It was priced at RM70 incl installation and the relay/wiring. Almost 40 percent cheaper than the Nautilus which cost RM120 to fix (but that was worth every single freaking sen!)

There were 2 types of Stebel they have. The normal looking Hella-Lookalike TM80 series which looks like this



Which has a spec of 410hz/500hz harmonic sound blasting 112dB(A) at 2 meters distance. Slightly better than Hella. And because of the higher low end noise of 410Hz, the sound produced in harmony are sharper than the Hella.

Then i saw Stebel Magnum 2...

And that bowled me over.


Marketing ploy...

It claimed to be the loudest compact horn the market ever seen. Blasting a good 115dB(A) at 2 meter, which essentially same as the Nautilus(which weight 2 times heavier). The harmonic frequency is 410Hz/500Hz and it's louder...

OK, that's the Kiasu Ah Beng side.


Almost same as Hella and other fake BMW horns sold nationwide...

Anyway, hearing is believing.


Magnum 2 somemore...

Stebel Magnum Series. PRODUCTS->ELECTROMAGNETICS->TM80 MAGNUM
and press the sound icon...


Magnum P.I. Do they use Stebel Magnum???

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It has arrived!!!

All system ready. Items above were delivered to our home.

1. Graco Passage Travel system
2. Graco Pack 'n Play Playard
3. Safe 'n Sound Baby Cot
4. Safe 'n Sound 4 inch latex mattress
5. Safe 'n Sound Latex pillow
6. Safe 'n Sound Bedsheets
7. Safe 'n Sound Pillowcases
8. Safe 'n Sound Safe Sleeper
9. Safe 'n Sound Cot Bumper

What's missing now is Baby Ryan.
:)

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Letter to Ryan

Dear Ryan,

Daddy decided to write you this letter before you are born. You might not be able to read this as yet until you go to school, and i hope that this blog still exist by then. Anyhow, i'll print a hardcopy and keep it safe where you could actually open and read it when you reach 21 years old.

Perhaps, by then, you would be wondering if people during MY time actually still writes letter and not communicate via brain waves.

Yesterday, me and Mummy went to see Dr. Raman and Dr. Yap for what might be mummy's second last visit to see them.

Your vitals are excellent. You weight 2.8kg and about 19 inches tall as of yesterday.

Dr. Yap commented that you have a lot of hair on your head. Well, definately a good point as your paternal parent's side (ie my grandfather, which is your great granpa and my father, your granpa) has problem with hairs up above. You see, we have what they call male baldness. My hair is thin and scarces. Unlike your mummy with her thick dark hair. So, that is definately a good thing to start with.

Unfortunately, we can't see you face. You were facing towards' mummy's bladder. You were engaged, no, we don't mean that you are going to get married like Uncle Mano or Uncle Surin, but what we meant is you are positioned in mummy's pelvic area already. Your legs were crossed at the ankle and that was you pushing on mummy's right side, making her unable to sleep at night. Your butt were sticking out somewhere between the middle and towards the left of mummy's tummy. Yes, that was the strange bump we felt that causes more discomfort for Mummy.

But we must admit, we had as much fun pushing your legs and butt back in as much as you pushing against our pushes. You show good promise with good lower body strength.

Oh ya, did you know that Auntie Lenny spoke to you yesterday, that you will get a brother to play with next April? Unfortunately, he will be a year late technically to be admitted to the same schooling year as you. Uncle Iqbal is daddy's best bud, we grew up togehter, much like how daddy grew up with Uncle Surin and gang. So, you as the bigger brother, you have to take care of him and the other brother and sisters

I'm sure you will find your own bunch of like minded friends that will grow up with you and share your joy and sadness. Just remember, friends come and go, you have to make effort to keep in touch. You must know that friends are sometimes closer than your own relative. They are the brothers and sisters that you never had. Same like when you finally decided to come out (and breath the hazy air caused by our neighbourly neighbour), you will notice other babies that shares the same birthday as you, some perhaps you might meet later in your life, some might just make your life difficult and you might end up marrying one of them for all you know!

So, let this be your first lesson in life. Friends are for forever. Cherish them and hold them close to your heart like how you do with your family.

You know, when we first found out that you are gonna be around, we have no idea if you are gonna be a Ryan or Rina. Heck, we have no idea that you are gonna be named Ryan anyway! We just wished that you will grow up healthy and go through your term from a single cell up till you could take care of yourself in that manner. We had had a few scare, with Mummy's urine protien level being high at one stage and her having some spotting while me and Uncle Azly was in Bangkok. Yes, for your info, daddy was bald during that period of time. Can't say if i was a superstar, but i did make a fool out of myself on national TV.

Oh ya, today, your cot, pram, mattress and pillows will arrive. We bought it from Auntie May, which happens to be Daddy's boss' wife. We got it all off for a good discount. Yes, we worked hard to provide for you so you could be in your most comfortable when you go home. Much like how your grandparents gave as much as they could to both mummy and daddy individually, that is as much as we will provide in our capacity which we could afford for you. Just don't grow up to be a brat. Because if you do, we won't spare the cane.

That is lesson number two, Your parent's won't spare the cane and see you growing up as a brat!

No, we are not going to abuse you. Don't be silly. For that Daddy has more plans where physical activities are concerned for you. Rest assured, your other siblings that will come along the way will get the same treatment as well.

Now, as you would had known, you had followed daddy for a few races (there were KLIM 42km, MMDS#1, EcoX, PD Tri, MMDS#2, AXN Mall and Desaru) up till so far while you were in Mummy. I'm not any race winner (well, except ONE - AXN Amazing Mall Race) but lessons in these races has taught daddy well. We must not give up. No matter what. As of today, you have a few Ironman uncles. Daddy hope to be one too before you turn 3 in 2008. They did not give up. So, you shouldn't too in life.

Just remember, one failure is not total failure. We will watch you as you take your first step and experience your first fall. Like Auntie Ashley would tell daddy, to let you grow up and see you from the sideline. If you ever fall down, we will pick you up, no matter what.

So, that's lesson three in life, It's mind over matter; if you don't mind, it doesn't matter

As you would had known now, daddy is a corny chap. So, live with it.

By the way, your training starts when you touch 6 months. You are going into the pool for your first dip in water. Ah, you most probably say that you've been swimming in mummy's womb for 9 months and breathing the amionitic fluid like fish to water...but that's besides the point. I want you to learn water confidence. Your daddy didn't know how to swim until much later in life and it was one drowning incident that i learnt to swim. Yeap, i was fighting for my survival and i learnt how to swim, abeit in don't know what style, back then.

Mummy promised to write a letter to you too. She's a busy lady, running her own business with 2 very pretty aunties, which grew up with her since primary school. See, what did daddy says about lesson number one in life?

Oh ya, as you would had known also by now, daddy's friends are very diversified. Daddy grew up in a multiracial and multicutural enviroment. Daddy could write and speak better Bahasa Malaysia than say, chinese to begin with. But that does not meant that you must lose your root as a chinese; that applies too, if you decided to marry anohter girl from anohter race and religion. Daddy will show and teach you about your own roots. You, in return, with your siblings, will teach your kids about your own roots and whoever you all decide to marry.

Which bring us to your name. We name you (and your other brothers and sisters) in such way that it reflect a Muhibbah spirit. We want to start with your name. Ryan Ambrose Lim Jo Hann.

We know, you most probably cursing when you know how to write your own name on your exercise book, or fill in forms later in your life. We have our reasons to name you as such. Ryan Ambrose was used as it sounded indian, we had wanted to name you a more traditional indian name but we couldn't find one that will goes with your late granpa's name. You will bring along the name of your granpa that daddy didn't have the chance to know. Just to let you know, your other granpa knows him when both were working in Selangor Turf Club.

Jo Hann was used because it sounded like a malay name, Johan. Which meant Champion. The only remotely hint that you were a chinese is your surname, Lim. So, live with it. That's our wish to see you grow up as someone that will helm Malaysia's future.

If you must know, we wanted to name you Lim Har Kow, taking cue from daddy's and mummy's surname. But making you sound like some dim sum is not favourable. You might get eaten up where ever you go!

Then we thought of calling you Hanson Lim Leng Chai. That is self explainatory anyway...but what if you are better looking than Daddy and Hanson(sic) or Leng Chai is an understatement??? Got to do justice to you also right?

So, be proud of yourself, for that is your fourth lesson, anyone can grab the tiger by the balls, but it takes a hero to stay there. Be strong, Be YOURSELF!

I should probably sign off for now. Rest assured, there will be more letters such as these written in the near future, to help you remember all your first things in life, for me and mummy felt that life is too short. We might not be able to grow old to see you have your own kids, but for all that is worth, we are proud for who and what you are!

Yours lovingly,

Daddy.

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