Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Sexy nightclub girl condemns practice of unannounced Aedes mosquito fogging
[Pixs of models for illustration purpose only]
Eiiiiii... Eiiiiiiiii... Eiiiiiii...
“Hey, a mosquito is in the room!” said Hussein, brushing the air with his hand several times. “Let’s change karaoke room.”
“Sorry, I think all VIP rooms are fully booked,” said GRO Wati. ”I’ll get the bar captain to spray some insecticide here; in the meantime, let’s go out and sit at the bar counter for a few minutes. When the smell of the insecticide goes away, we’ll come back.”
Hussein, Chow Kah, Wati, Jessica and I trooped out of the room-of-pleasure. Sheathed in a skin-tight evening gown; her long hair swooped up into a bun at the back of her head, PR-savvy Mamasan Lulu was the perfect hostess. “I’m so sorry your karaoke session was interrupted.” She escorted us to the bar counter in the hall. “As a gesture of apology, tonight, I’ll give you a complimentary serving of fresh fruits. That’s the kind of service Hot Legs Karaoke & Nightclub offer to maintain our reputation.”
Chow Kah stared at the rows of hard liquor on the glass shelves behind the bar counter: Bombay Sapphire Gin from London; Beefeater Dry Gin from London; Absolut Vodka from Switzerland; 42 Below Vodka from New Zealand; Sky Vodka from USA; Martell Cordon Bleu from France; Singleton 12 Years Old Single Malt from Scotland; Remy Martin VSOP from France; Jack Daniel’s Whisky from USA; Glenmorangie 10 Years Old from Scotland, ad infinitum. “Guys, later, we should order a bottle of Sky Vodka; then our blood will be full of alcohol. If a mosquito bites any one of us, it will be drunk and can’t fly; that’s when we whack it.”
“I think this is the breeding season for mosquitoes,” said Jessica, climbing atop a bar stool. She adjusted her bra strap and placed her elbows on the counter. “Water melon juice, please,” she said to the bartender.
Wati sat upright on the bar stool, crossed her slender legs that ended in six-inch stiletto hells. “You’re right, Jess; yesterday, there was a fogging campaign in my housing area; those idiots did it unannounced; some more, in the evening at around 7pm.”
“A hilarious episode happened in my back-neighbour’s home. While I was washing plates in the kitchen, I heard a loud NGGGGGG... NGGGGGG... NGGGGGG... I looked out of the window; a masked guy was at a far end of the back lane. He was holding a fogging machine and discharging white fumes left and right, into drains and into plants and scrubs in people’s backyards; in fact, everywhere.
“My neighbour’s kitchen window was open; so was the back door. I saw her pembantu rumah [Indonesian maid] rushing into the kitchen. Her bouncing breasts were draped in a batik sarung hastily tied together at two ends; water was dripping from her hair and body. She snatched several filled plates from the dining table and shoved them into a food cabinet.
“Then my neighbour, Kak Rose came scrambling down the stairs -- clad only in her brassiere and polka-dot panty! Kak Rose gathered all the vegetables in the kitchen sink and put them in the fridge.
“Wait, there’s more! Kak Rose's husband scampered down the stairs two steps at a time. Only a cotton towel wrapped his lower torso; I noticed that it was distended! Eeeeeek! He was having an erection! He slammed the kitchen door shut and closed all the kitchen windows to prevent the fogging fumes from entering the house. Everything happened so fast.”
To the romantic tinkling of piped-in piano music, Jessica quivered in muted chortle as if in orgasm; Chow Kah almost doubled up; Hussein’s eyes welled tears; my funny bones ached: we all held back our laughter as other patrons were in the hall, cuddling their hostesses and whispering sweet nothings.
“Next day, I asked the pembantu rumah [maid] why everyone was half-naked," continued Wati. "She explained she had just bathed, and was naked while washing clothes in the bathroom when she heard the drone of the fogging machines. Frozen fish and beef were lying on the table, waiting to be thawed. Vegetables were being soaked in the sink. Those fumes can be dangerous to our health, according to the maid.
“The maid elaborated: ‘My poor boss and his wife were upstairs. Mereka dalam tengah-tengah berhubungan seks! [They were in the midst of having sex!]. That’s why they had rushed down telanjang setengah [half-nude]’ ”
“I read somewhere on the Internet that those fogging fumes consist of a compound called pyrethrin that is mixed with either oil or water,” said Chow Kah. “Although the compound is supposed to be relatively safe for humans, it can cause coughing, wheezing, shortness of breath, nasal congestion, chest pain and difficulty in breathing. Contact with the skin can cause irritation, itching and blistering. It all depends on the person’s sensitivity.”
“Those barua [stooges] should first inform the residents the time of fogging so that we can keep our food safely,” condemned Wati. “Who knows? Consuming food contaminated with those fumes may even cause cancer, huh?”
Jessica said in jest: “Look on the bright side, Wati; tonight when your neighbour has sex with his wife, they won’t be bitten by the Aedes mosquito!” She cocked her head to acknowledge a gesture from Mamasan Lulu at the other end of the hall. “Gentlemen, I think your room is ready; Mummy just gave me a thumb-up sign; come, let’s go back.”