Thursday, January 9, 2014

Nightclubber Mor Sai shows off his hot blond American pen-pal

(Pixs of models for illustration purpose only)

“Here’s my American pen-pal!” Mor Sai says, taking a photo from his shirt pocket and passing it to Hussein.

Ang Mor Sai, Hussein, Wati, Jessica and I are in the midst of eating snacks and sipping refreshments in the VIP Room of Hot Legs Niteclub & Karaoke. Chow Kah was supposed to be here but he had to cancel at the last minute because of diarrhoea. So his Papa, Mor Sai, filled in for his junior so that we can split the bill three ways.

“Wow! She’s hot!” Hussein says, his eyes bulging in their sockets.

Mor Sai takes a gulp of his Sapporo beer. “She’s five feet, ten inches. A Texan. Twenty-six years old. Divorced, no kids.”

“Let me see it,” Wati (pix below) says, leaning sideways towards Hussein. “Eh? Why is she wearing striped clothes?”

“She’s a prison inmate.”

“What!” exclaims Jessica (pix below), pulling down the hem of her orange miniskirt and crossing her legs at the knees.

I lean forward to the table, spear a jalapeno popper and bring it to my mouth. “For what offence?”

Mor Sai returns the photo to his shirt pocket and leans back. “Murder. She poisoned her abusive mother-in-law. Laced the old lady's apple pie with cyanide. Got life sentence with no parole. While she was in prison, her husband divorced her.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Holy shit! Looks are deceiving!"

“Why you want to write to a jail babe?” Hussein asks, placing his hand on Wati's lap.

“Look at me. I’m old and ugly and am only five feet three inches. Where can I find a pretty blonde who stands five feet ten inches to be my friend?”

“How did you find her?” I ask.

“There're a couple of websites that have prisoner pen-pals. Examples are, and”

“She’s dangerous!" Jessica says. "Better to be involved with the hostesses here than with a jail babe." She lights a cigarette and blows a puff of smoke ceilingward. "Though she’s a serving life sentence, she may have a brother or a boyfriend who’s criminal-minded. She might ask him to come to KL to kill and rob you!”

“I’m not worried.”

“Why?” I ask.

Mor Sai flashes a grin. “I don't use my address for our correspondence. I'm using Chow Kah’s address!”


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