Friday, October 15, 2021

“I saw a snake butterfly!” shrieks Sifu Sabrina, splashing water with her feet


“There! On that rock!” Sifu Sabrina runs her hands through her hair. “It’s a snake butterfly!” Her curves are as dangerous as a mountain road, and have elicited a few wolf whistles from picnickers.

I swing my gaze from Sifu Sabrina’s face to the algae-covered round rock indicated by her. “Nope, there’s nothing there.” I toss my attention back to her.  

Sifu Sabrina and I are at Kanching Waterfall, located near Templer’s Park, KL. A canopy of branches hunker over us—a tapestry of green leaves and shafts of sunshine—and birds occasionally ululate to the murmur of gliding waters over rocks and pebbles. 

“Up! Up!” Sifu Sabrina raises both her slender arms and arches her eyebrows.  “It’s flown up to that branch!”


I snap my head up, creaking my neck bones, and squint my eyes. “Yes, yes, I see it!” 


Moving to dry ground, I extract my cell phone from my back jeans pocket and do a search for snake butterfly. “It’s not a butterfly but an Atlas moth,” I say to Sifu Sabrina, reading from a website.  “Oh my goodness, they’ve a life span of only two weeks.”  I give my head a few gentle shakes. “No wonder, it’s so hard to spot them.”

Hmm…why can’t God give these beautiful creatures a longer life span?


Saturday, September 18, 2021

Interesting trivia about hair among top leaders of the Chinese Communist Party


“Have you noticed that top leaders of the Chinese Communist Party all have black hair?” Mummy Lulu asks, resting her elbows on the metal table.

I take a sip of my Asahi beer. “Nope.”


“Dyeing one’s hair black is compulsory--I repeat, compulsory--for the top brass of the CCP.” Mummy Lulu lifts her glass of tequila, slams it down her throat and releases an exhale. “It is regarded as a sign of a powerful man, and a powerful man cannot let ageing show on his hair.” She plunks the glass down on the table

“Gee… where did you learn that?”

“I read it in a book titled Inside the Mind of Xi Jinping written by Francois Bougon.”


“Holy cow!” I fish my cell phone from my shirt pocket. “I need to call my hairdresser now! I want to make an appointment to dye my hair!”


Monday, September 6, 2021

Origin of the Mooncake Festival and related legend of the Emperor who executes artists


“The eighth lunar month’s here.”  My gaze wanders to Sifu Sabrina’s face. “Origin of the Mooncake Festival?” 

Please click on the YouTube link below to watch what Sifu Sabrina says about the Mooncake Festival and related story of the Emperor who executes artists:


Sunday, August 29, 2021

"The cowgirl and doggy sex positions are the most dangerous," Jessica and Wati say

I pull my car over to the visitor’s parking lot, yank the handbrake up and get out. I press my remote control and the car headlights blink once and a beep sounds. I hike on sneakers to the security booth at the entrance of Jessica's condo in Cheras.

A Nepali guard pops his head out of the window of the booth. “Yes, sir? Which unit?” He is wearing a peaked cap in a rakish angle and his dull eyes look sleepy.

“Jessica’s unit, number eighty-eight—she’s having a poolside BBQ.”

The guard gestures with an open palm. “Please enter, sir.

I duck the boom bar and enter the compound of the condo. When I reach the swimming pool, I see that Jessica’s party is in full swing—some of the guests are scarfing down grilled food, others are dipping in the pool. 

Clad in a blue t-shirt and jeans, Mummy Lulu is swaying to the music by herself. I see Papa-san Johnny Yap, owner of Hot Legs Niteclub & Karaoke. Garbed in shorts, he sees me. I wave at him. He waves back. He slips on the wet floor and falls into the pool. 

The smell of cooked food wafts in the air and starts the engine of my appetite. A mini compo is blasting out foot-stomping music which almost makes my stomach vibrate and a singer's hoarse voice is shouting, “Put your fucking hands up!” I almost cringe at the vulgarity.

 I spot Jessica and Chow Kah half-submerged in the pool and wave at them.  Chow Kah waves back at me and I go to the BBQ grill and pile some grilled squid rings and prawns on a plate. After getting a drink, I settle my butt at a poolside table and start to eat.


Within moments, Jessica joins me and slaps a high-five with me. “Glad you can come!” She drags out an empty chair beside her for Chow Kah who’s holding a plateful of satay in one hand and another plateful of popcorn shrimp in the other hand. 

"Great party!" I flash a smile at Chow Kah and pop a squid ring into my mouth. “Where’s Wati?”  Talk of the devil! I mean, Wati. At that moment, bikini-clad Wati emerges from a changing room near the pool, rounds our table with a wiggle of her butt and joins us. 

I flick my gaze at Wati, sitting across me.  “Hi, Wati, where’s your best friend, Hussein?” I point at Jason, Mummy Lulu’s toyboy—togged up in swimming trunks and a bowtie—gyrating under a marquee. “You know, two’s a couple, three’s a party!”

“Didn’t you know?” Wati picks up a popcorn shrimp and blows on it. “He’s in hospital.” She pops it into her mouth. “You know what happened to him?”

I shake my head and from the corner of my eye, I see Jason coming to our table. He pulls out a chair, nods and sits down. “Don’t let me interrupt your conversation,” he says.

Wati crosses her shapely legs at the knees. “Penile fracture.”

My jaw sags a full inch. “Sweet thunderation! How did it happen?”

Wati’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “He was making boom-boom with his fourth wife when it happened!” She picks up a six-inch bamboo skewer.  “An accident broke his manhood." She snaps the bamboo skewer into two. “Like this!”

Jessica picks up a skewer of satay. “Do you know that certain sex positions are dangerous?”   She brings the skewer to Chow Kah’s mouth. “As proven by research.”

“Wow!” I sit upright. “You just read another interesting scholarly article?

Chow Kah bites off two morsels of meat from the skewer. “Yes, Jessica loves to read.” He takes the skewer away from Jessica's hand.  

Jessica picks up her glass of fruit punch, sucks at the straw and winks. “The University of Campinas -– that’s in Brazil -- compiled statistics of penile fracture treated at three hospitals from 2000 to 2013.  Most of the victims revealed that they were engaged in either the doggy or cowgirl style when the mishaps happened. The risk of the man accidentally hitting the woman's pelvic bone is very high in these two positions.” 

“Journal of Sexual Medicine article?”

“No, a journal called Advances in Urology." Jessica puts the glass of fruit punch down. "Year 2014 issue.”

Sucking at a plastic pouch filled with what looks like milk shake, Wati flits her gaze to Chow and then to me. “Not only that— an article in International Journal of Impotence Research states that the doggy position causes the most severe injury.” She pauses. “I think it appeared in a 2017 issue. The authors of that research paper were err... Dr. Barros and Dr. Schulze."  Her face becomes taut with seriousness. “Men who suffer penile fracture can be left with permanent erectile dysfunction.  It depends on how serious the injury is. So, this is no laughing matter.”

"Gee..." My eyes jolt wider. "You also read medical journals?"  

From the corner of my eye, I see Jason winking at Wati. "This I gotta tell Mummy!" he says. "Maybe I need to show her the article, too." 

I cast my gaze at Jason. "Why?"

A sly smile blooms on toyboy Jason’s lips. "Then I can avoid doing those two positions with her! I hate them, have always preferred the standing disco and missionary."


Thursday, August 26, 2021

"Stop burning paper electrical items and COVID vaccination kits for the dead," Sifu Sabrina advises


"Don't burn paper electrical items and cell phones for the dead during the Ghost Month," Sifu Sabrina says. "There's no electricity or telcos in Hell to render all those items functional." She swerves her apple-red lips in a near-sneer before her sparkling eyes turn serious. "The latest craze is paper COVID vaccination kits. Another nonsense! This is just a sales gimmick by paper workshops to make you kiss goodbye to your hard-earned money!"



Tuesday, August 17, 2021

Jessica discusses a Christian romance novel titled Oceans Apart by Karen Kingsbury

My gaze settles on the book in Jessica’s hands before rising to meet her eyes. “First, tell me something about the author.”

Jessica meets my gaze with a sliver of a smile. “Karen Kingsbury is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. Has written seventy, eighty novels. Four have been made into Hallmark Channel TV movies.”

I stare at Jessica’s face, my eyes drinking her in like a man in a desert. “Wow! Sounds like a heavy hitter.” I grab a chilled can of Asahi beer from an ottoman beside me and take a sip.

Jessica and I are sitting on a carpeted nook in her living room with big pillows, small throw-pillows and bean bags scattered around.  The scent of her perfume kisses my cheeks and soft jazz music from the hi-fi soothes my soul.

Oceans Apart has a strong opening situation.” Jessica’s voice climbs an octave for emphasis. “A plane crashes into the ocean, killing everyone, including stewardess Kiahna, a single mother. Her will states that her seven-year old son Max, fathered by pilot Connor out of a one-night stand, will be sent to stay with his dad for two weeks.  This bloke’s married.” Jessica’s neutral expression slips away and turns severe. “But the boy will be told that Connor is his mother’s friend. At the end of the two weeks, the two-timing bastard can either accept the boy or send him home for adoption. So, Kiahna’s lawyer in Honolulu contacts Connor in Florida.  Connor pees in his pants when he hears the news!” Jessica’s hazel eyes dance with mirth. “Coz he never knew he has an illegitimate son.”

I uncross my legs and stretches them straight. “So, Connor told his wife about his son?”

“Yes, he did. But Michele, Connor’s wife, didn’t clobber him with a broom. That’s what that fucker deserved in the first place!” Scorn laces Jessica’s voice.  “The couple quarrels and, later, Michele allows her husband to let Max come. From here onward, the story bogs down with descriptions of Connor’s camping trip with Max and his two daughters. This episode should be the climax of the story as Connor tries to bond with his son but it has not been handled that well. I shan’t elaborate more so as not to give away the entire plot.”

I take another gulp of my beer. “What else you don’t like about the story?”

Jessica removes her spectacles and puts the book down. “First, it’s improbable that Kiahna has made a will at the age of twenty-something." Sitting straighter, she stretches her hands behind her head to tie her long hair into a pony tail.  "And why is she so dumb to have raw sex with Connor? There’s also an incident where a tree branch crashes through Kiahna’s bedroom window and hits her on the head, while she’s lying in bed.” She squishes her brows in disbelief. “It’s a bit far-fetched this thing can happen. I also don’t like that Kiahna is portrayed both as a Jezebel and a saint as revealed later by her journal entries.”

“Is the book preachy?”

“Moderately. References from the Scriptures are as frequent as mentions of God. Then, in a flashback scene, when Connor is getting physical with Kiahna, God’s voice in his head tells him to back off. But, unfortunately, Connor’s dick is stronger than God!” Jessica releases a chuckle, punching two dimples in her cheeks.  “All in all, nothing wrong with being preachy in a Christian fiction.”

I lace my fingers together and rest my hands on my lap “What about the prose? I mean, style of writing.”  

“A bit too sparse, a bit too straightforward for my liking. Several scenes happen in Hawaii but there’s not even a one-liner describing the setting. Also, the author’s sentences are on the long side. This writing style dilutes the tension in dramatic scenes.”

 “The good stuff about Oceans Apart?”

Jessica picks up the book from the carpet. “Forgiveness is the theme of this book.” She opens to a certain page in the book. “Let me read from the author’s note.” She wears her spectacles and sucks in an inhale. “Kingsbury writes ‘Forgiveness doesn't make a problem go away; it simply gives you the peace Christ intended. Often, when both parties are willing to work on a relationship, healing will come. But sometimes it doesn't. Even then, forgiveness is the only way to the freedom Jesus wanted for us, the freedom He died for.’ ” She raises one knee, drapes an arm over it and rests her chin on the latter.  “That’s damn good advice.” Jessica blinks, her eyelashes fluttering as if to fly her away. “Speaking of forgiveness reminds me of something.”

I cock my head sideways. “Oh? What?”

Jessica glances up, capturing my gaze with a potent one of her own, and my heart almost seizes. “When I was a little girl, I used to pray every night for a Barbie doll, until I realized that God doesn’t work that way.  So I stole one and asked Him to forgive me instead.”

 My lips veer into a wry smile.