When fluff is good

Hot on the heels of The Times UK list of "40 bloggers who really count", I decided to draw up my own list.

Let's call it the fluff list. I find comfort & entertainment in these self absorbed & vain bloggers. It's completely mindless but it's what one needs after a stressful day at work. Honestly.

Surely, a self-confessed perasan bloke who claims to be the "Bjork from Malaysia" urging readers to make him their go to person for 'fashion' advice is cringe-worthy & funny!

THE FLUFF LIST

1) bryanboy.com - He met Anna Wintour, for god's sake!
2) cutecarry.com - Highly perasan blog. At least bryanboy looks fashionable.
3) xiaxue.blogspot.com - Everyone's reading it mah..you donno meh?
4) cheeserland.com - Kawaiii...errmm.. Yeah. Whatever.
5) kimong.com - Almost famous

There you have it.

-e-

Oh, KL!

It wasn’t always like this. This anger, resentment and frustration that I feel on most days seem to have appeared quite suddenly and ruled my life. I blame it all on the smokecity.

Oh, KL how I love you. But I hate you in equal measure.

Those glittering spanking new buildings keep popping up like spots on a badly pockmarked teenager’s face. The mega projects that we display proudly to the world in our desperate attempt to be a ‘developed country by 2020’.

The choking traffic that clogs the city’s arteries every morning and evening. Oh, and when it rains……

Oh, how I miss blue skies dotted by cottony white clouds and fresh air instead of this dull white haze and acrid smell that linger in the air long after the traffic disperses.

I want to strangle all the strangers (and even acquaintances!) who ask what my race or religion is. “Engkau ni Melayu ke Cina?” (Are you Malay or Chinese?)

I’m a Malaysian, I tell them but it rarely satisfies them. They cajole and prod until I relent. They then pull a long “ohhhhh…” and flash an idiotic smile when I tell them what I am.

The winning incident must go to the dickhead who stopped his flashy Perdana while I was walking to work one fine morning to ask if I was a Muslim.

“Tanya saje,” the leering bigot asked. I told him to piss off before sprinting to work.

And the crime! How outrageous that somecolleagues were mugged or fell victim to snatch thieves as they were walking the eight minutes home. It’s scary because I walk the same route every day and I have been chased by drunkards before.

But for all your shortcomings, KL, I can’t let you go. Not yet.

Home: Sun, surf & fresh air

Your transportation system is far from perfect but it’s not that bad compared to KK. There are more drivers here who know what that blinking indicator is for. They also don’t crawl and hog the right lane at 40km/hr.

Food here can be dirt cheap at about RM1 for a piece of roti canai. (But seafood in KK wins. No questions.) Teh tarik is that and teh ais is well..teh ais, not teh tarik ais as we Sabahans call it.

I love your cool old enclaves like Chow Kit, Pudu, Brickfields, Petaling street and Batu Road. I love the rebellious streak that shows itself from time to time.

Oh, how I love and hate you in the same breath.

You gave me the best and worst experiences of my young adult years. You nurtured me as I slaved for my education and shared my joy as I got my first paycheck. You witnessed as I set up ‘home’ with the Brother long after the Bestfriend and I fell out.

But I’m afraid our relationship is at its last leg. Too much of something is bad, they say.

Someday, KL, I will come back with a renewed sense of pride like the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed smalltown girl a long ago.

I lup chew long long time, KL.

Running free

Welcome to the Real Plastic Chicken.






A wonderful illustration by Daphne M.

It's my playground where I pretend I'm the boss & that everything is perfect. Where my googly-eyed followers eat only organic & free-range, despise shark fins soups & are as pliable as Play-Doh pretzel from too much yoga.

It may be far-fetched but at least it makes me cool. Sorta.


Why Real Plastic Chicken? DOH! It's so much better (& sexier!) than Run (Free) with Eve, don't you think?

Peace.