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To keep these Canadians happy when their traditions are in question is not really a job for this minority Malaysian in my house, I tell you. But tonight, just like those two other nights last year, I was put in a role of a Tooth Fairy again. And this time, a Front Tooth Fairy. I went flipping and flapping upstairs and downstairs looking for a little box that could fit a 50sen coin (cheap fairy!). Of course I could not find any! All boxes of all sizes I have accumulated all my life are on their way to The Land of Tzars, duh!

So this little-but-not-so-little Canadian gal would have to be contented with a 50sen coin wrapped ever so nicely in an aluminium envelope with a green corsage her fairy mommy got as a VIP at a forum earlier in the day. Sorry Monchy! Not only your fairy and squary mommy believes in recycling, she also believes that keeping a tradition doesn’t cost a thing. Neither does love.

Now go whistle, baby!

To all commentators and comment-leavers who have taken their time to read all the lines and what lies in between, to review, to reflect and even to rage about what I write…thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you for your time, thank you for your thoughts, thank you for your TLC.

To be frank, I would not have put the visitors counter if I wasn’t curious about how many readers would come visit my words and visit their own mind while reading mine. I truly appreciate every visit and re-visit whether you leave a comment or curse the day I was born. (Yeah, obviously too much SATC!)

I do read your comments as they come in via my email. And I do respond to each and every one of your comments – some in written words, but the rest in thought thoughts, and all…with curved lips on my face.

I just wrote this email to Laurie at WOW! Factor, a corporate event management company in Del Mar, California:

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Dear Laurie,
I was browsing and googling for Wow! Factor in Event Management when I came across your company website. And then I saw this embarrassing spelling error in the ‘About The WOW! Factor’ page:

“… – Protect the pubic against fraud and unfair practices, and promote all practices which bring respect and credit to the profession.”

It should be PUBLIC, don’t you think?

Good day!

Regards,
Enida

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I have nothing against pubic being public. I mean…I am very comfortable with my body, and am not embarrassed mentioning vagina, pubic hair, labia, vulva and anything down under, bottom or behind. And as much as I would like to ‘protect the PUBIC against fraud and unfair practices’, I would really like to promote all practices which bring respect and credit to any profession. That, my dear Laurie, includes the practice of checking one’s spelling before making anything corporate, public.

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With that, I conclude my pubic speaking.
Thank you.

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To Jog A Whale

You are a thief and you have been caught robbing me. It’s just amazing that you are defending yourself saying you have nicer and better things than mine, and that you stole things from me because I left my back door open. If you do have nicer and better things, why are you so sore when what’s mine that you stole was returned to me?

And by the way, what difference does it make which door you came in through?

It Makes Horse Sense

Menemankan Edrick baring-baring for his afternoon nap today, I stopped him from humming the Mozart (yeah, thanks to those Little Einsteins show on Channel 613) and asked him to do animal sounds.

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Monch, how does a rooster sound like?

Oo’ oo’ ooooo’ oooo’k!

How does a duck sound like?

Quack kwek quack kwek!

How about a bird?

Tweet chweet tweet chweet!

A sheep?

Mekkkk!

Edrick, can you do lizard sound?

Tsk tck tsk tck!

Wow! That’s good, monch.

Do you know how a monkey sounds like?

Yess! Ooh aaa aaa aaa, ooh aaa aaa aaa!

How about a cow?

Easy mommy. Moooooo!

Right on! What about a donkey?

Eeeeyore, eeeyore!

Very good! And how does a horse sound like?

Yeeee haaa!

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I had no time to say neigh or nay. I was laughing my eeeyore off on the carpeted floor, yeee ha ha ha ha ha!

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Berdoa Berdua

104th Month Anniversary Breakfast at Delicious,
Dua Residence Annexe this morning.

Berdoa Berdua

104th Month Anniversary Breakfast at Delicious,
Dua Residence Annexe this morning.

Oh Owe!

I owe you at least half of the story. The ending half. The only problem is…it hasn’t ended. It isn’t ending either. I don’t suspect the ending is going to come before MY ending. Mistake is, after all, a life-long lesson you keep on taking until you’ve learned it by heart. Mistakes…yours or others, regardless.

So today I saw Ms X.

Yes, I saw her. Like I saw her a month and a day ago. I saw her better this time. Longer. Many more coup d’oeil. No, she didn’t see me. Not today. Unlike a month and a day ago, she did see me. She turned around when I wasn’t looking. She turned around and hid. She thought I hadn’t seen her when she finally saw me from about 20 meters away.

Today I saw her for good 10 minutes. She didn’t see me. She didn’t know I was less than 5 meters away from her. I was in a line-up, and she was passing by. A friend of hers stopped her and they had a chat. So I saw her.

Every time I saw her, I felt better about myself. I’m glad I am me. A lesson so good to learn, indeed.

"Mata Jendela Hati"

Eyes…the windows to your soul.

I remember reading an article in a magazine about thirty years ago entitled just that…Mata Jendela Hati. And I remember thinking how brilliant the idiom (or saying, or proverb or figurative speech – whatever it is called) was. But then, I remember thinking…how does one tell another’s soul just by looking at the eyes. Do they really tell that much?

Pour For The Poor

Standing the heat…I’ve been staying in the kitchen. Yes, connotatively and denotatively. Ahaks! I was going to make Rosemary Chicken, but as I was literally stabbing her on the breasts (yes, she has three beautiful and yummy breasts), I realized that my jarred Rosemary McCormick was already on her way to the Land of The Tsars. All I had left was the lemon-pepper mix and a new square no-lid skillet.

So it wasn’t going to be Married or Merried with Rose. And so…the Johnsons had to be just contented with Roslaimi Chicken – not Rosemary Chicken, I was afraid. Thus, with three knife-stabbed breasts, frozen Emborg spinach blanched in coconut milk and skillet-roasted potatoes and carrot…we paused before we poured the gravy and so we said our grace at supper.

Pour the grace on us, Lord, as we pray that not one too many a child goes to bed hungry and cold tonight. Not in Gaza, not in Rwanda, not in Bolivia, not in Nako Nambua.

Amin or Amen.
However one spells it.

*Yes. Stabbing was very much needed for those not-fully-thawed-out breasts, as I also discovered that MC “Tenderizing” Hammer has all this while had an affair with Rosemary McCormick and joined her on the Transiberian Cargo.