My relationship with Emily has always been a fun-going one. We always call each other names … and always prank around. It has always been like this ever since I met her 9 years ago.

There’s one particular ostentatious mischief that I always liked to play with her — is that whenever I was outside her apartment (back to the days when we weren’t living together), I will hide myself,… and then call out in a feigning manner of a cat instead of knocking eg. “meow-meow..”. When Emily hears that, she will usually hop out happily to greet me with a hug and we’ll have passionate sex right at the entrance … Alright, I made that having sex part out.

Of course, I will make sure that she’s alone before I fucking do that. To be caught in an act like this would be catastrophically embarrassing. It’s like a very private kinda act. A proclivity of esoteric flirt that both of us did ..only when we’re absolutely alone. Never had I been caught doing that … except one fine Saturday morning.

On that fine Saturday morning (of many years ago), I had an appointment with Emily .. and I’m suppose to go up her apartment to meet up with her. I had called her on the previous night, and was made known that there will be no one around her apartment that morning. So, my plan was set — I’m gonna meow-meow Emily as usual … and we’ll hug and do cool stuffs that lovers usually do. Like squeezing zits and removing white hairs … (hey, what the fuck were you guys thinking ?)

Once I’m there, I tip-toed myself around the corridor towards her apartment, like a very stealthy ninja. My objective was not to assassinate anyone or anything, but to ensure my presence go unnoticed … and I’m gonna meow-meow Emily. Ensuring that she got a professionally induced full-scale surprise. Oh we’re gonna be so freakin’ happy doing these feline act.

I took a peek from the very corner of her unclosed main door from outside — great, she’s not in the living room. I can see that her room’s door was half open, and I was sure she’ll hear my meow-meow. I then opened up my mouth, and elicited the 2 magical words from my mouth — meow-meow — in the most delicately soft and lofty voice … that it could make a gay cat cry.

I paused myself while hiding by the side of the entrance, to spot for any sign of movement. I could hear some friction against the floor … but obviously not a sound of someone walking. I took another peek. Nope, no sign of Emily. WTF - I thought. Probably she could not hear me clear enough, and so, I gave another call. Meow-meow… and hide back at my position. This time, it was louder - almost sounded like a desperate male cat that just said “i want sex”. Loud and clear.

I heard some movement after that, and took another peek. But before I could see anything, I was blinded by a sudden flash of an object. Something that appeared right in front of me (at the entrance) when I was peeking out. It was Emily’s sister - checking out some weird noise that she apparently heard. There were approximately 3 - 4 seconds of pause when we looked at each other in the eyes. I’m frozen and she’s dumbfucked. She was looking at me with a face full of derision… the kind that tells me she’s ready to blast her spit and phlegm laughing out.

Words cannot describe how embarrassed I felt at that moment. If I’m a real ninja, I bet I would have performed seppuku on myself right on the spot. I was uttering some profanities under my breath for that big boner I’m facing… but didn’t say a word. I was too fucking scared to even talk … and pointed inside — gesturing that I’m looking for Emily … not her. And then, she gave out a smirk and called out loud for Emily … that “Michael is looking for you !”

The episode ends here .. for everything went grey from there afterwards. I told Emily the whole thing … and she laughed out loud at me like a hyena with serious brain damage. For sure, if I have a mobile phone back then, this probably wouldn’t have happened. Goddamn.

*apparently, Emily’s sister filed for an emergency sick leave that day .. and that’s what had caused the unprecedented screw-up.

Last night, inside my car.

Emily: “Dear, promise me one thing. Drive carefully in Austin.” [I'll be flying there for a business trip this weekend]

Me: “I’m always careful. Don’t worry, baby.”

Emily: “Refrain yourself from picking your nose or teeth. It will affect your concentration.”

Me: “Did you just say pick my nose or teeth ?”

Emily: “Yes. Don’t do it while you’re driving..”

Me: “Oh pleaseee… I’ve never done that sort of things before ! What makes you say that ?”

Emily: “Yes you did.”

Me: “No I didn’t. At least not when I’m driving ! You’re sick !”

Emily: “Whatever”

Me: [picks my nose and flick some micro-boogers at Emily] “You asked for it.”

Emily: “Eeeeek!!!” [responded with a smacking reflex at the same time]

Girls … they always misunderstand us guys.

Today, I was in the Logistics department doing something fairly important when LongLegs2 approached me. She was standing beside me till my attention was distracted. When she knew I took notice of her, she then uttered the following to me — “Michael … nah !”.

Nope. She did not stick her middle finger to me. I would have bitten her tits till it turns purple if she does that. She’s actually handling to me a package. It’s a pink coloured box in a plastic bag.

“What’s that ?” I asked.
“Can you pass this package to Veron’s daughter ?” (Veron is my colleague who lives next to me). Then she gave a lengthy explanation … while I indirectly admired her pair of boobs nice and beautiful hair.

Apparently, it’s a box of Barbie doll set from a friend of mine as a gift to Veron’s daughter. That friend passed the package to LongLegs2 a few days ago — so that she could in turn pass the package to Veron. But Veron has been absent from work for these few days … and the dolls are turning stale. So, LongLegs2 had to resort to pass the package to me … so that I can pass to Veron after work (as she’s my neighbour).

To put it in a simpler picture - the package was passed from Friend to LongLegs2 … to Me … then to Veron. Then to her daughter… of course.

Well, LongLegs then shoved the entired package to me (which my hands automatically took hold of it..) and was preparing to bail off … when I bitched

“Awwww… man …not this !”
“Just pass it to Veron .. ok ? Bye ! ”

I thought of complaining more, but LongLegs2 already bounced away happily without giving a damn about my querulous condition. I was left standing in the Logistics department holding a box of Barbie doll looking like a possible candidate of Paedophile of the Century. Oh fuck. This is so despising. How am I gonna face the society if I were to be seen carrying this piece of disaster around ? ? It would undoubtly leave a deep scar on my reputation in company.

I quickly fled back to my own office cube, and hid the Barbie package under my office desk - which, was seen by one of my colleague in the process. I took no chances and explained to him - “fuck dude, this is not mine. It’s for my neighbour’s daughter .. ok ? I’m doing this for a friend.” Alright, he believed me, I believed.

Then came the hardest part - that is to carry the package out from the plant without being seen. The idea is to stealthily sneak out from my office, pass the security checkpoint, and to vanish myself in the sea of cars in the carpark. I picked the moment where there’s less people walking about, and quickly fled towards the exit.

I’ll have to go through the security checkpoint as I’ve a notebook in hand… So, I was kinda like hiding the package behind me when the security housewife was raiding my notebook bag. I was praying hard that she didn’t see the package … but that didn’t worked. She saw it and asked “Apa tu ?” … to which, I sheepishly showed her - that it’s a fucking Barbie doll set. She was kinda like giving me this kind of look - as if I’m a male who’s confused of his own sexuality, that enjoyed playing with a Barbie doll very much. I gave a quick reply to even up the situation - “Boss mia anak mia patung” and scurried towards my car without looking back.

It was a close call. I was almost seen by a few chicks who happened to be searching for their car in the carpark. Upon reaching my car, I slam dunked the package into my trunk and sped off. A close call indeed.

Lesson learnt: Never accept packages of unknown origin.

******
sidenote about Barbie :

Barbie doll is the motherfuckest toy product mankind has ever created to deceive young little bastards. It’s a disease and a parasite of our civilization. This doll has evolved from a simple concept of doll (you know, tea party or shits like that) into a hip teenager icon who adopts a slutty lifestyle that spends all her money on chintzy clothes and makeup apparatus. It indirectly promotes excessive spending among the females … and causes massive inflation.

And what more ? Barbie is fucking expensive, and parents are often found themselves being ripped off for spending a few hundred bucks buying pieces of plastic slut that has an endless supply of props, which are sold separately. And this plastic slut even have a boyfriend named Ken — who doesn’t have a dick. I mean, if Barbie can be a slut and has a body that suggests she looked like one … why can’t Ken have a dick ? What’s a guy without a dick ? Is this what I think it’s trying to portray here ? — female chauvinism or excessive desire of control over the male species ? This is so sick.

You know, it’s really dangerous when you have the habit of talking yourself stupid when you’re sleeping. Especially when your surroundings are filled with people who took the liberty to listen to every single word of it. That’s what happened to my friend Ayamas at our weekend Euro2004 match party in a hotel room.

We were watching the Spain-Russia match when Ayamas fell asleep. Snoring on a couch. It was then, Ricky made a bogus call to Ayamas’ mobile phone - thought of waking the slouch up. When his Phantom of The Opera ring tone wails out, Ayamas suddenly awoke in such a haste and yelled out his girlfriend’s name — as if she’s there to give him a nasty boner up his ass with a king sized dildo with built in 8.0 richter scale vibrator.

From his simple reaction, we inadvertently discovered an ugly fact - that he’s probably freaking scared of his girlfriend. Looked like a macho dude during the day, but a sex slave at night. That’s just a so cruel way to let your friends know your darkest secrets.

But Ayamas’ case was actually nothing if it were to be compared to sleepwalking. I’ve a cousin who has this special trait - of … you know … sleepwalking. He’s known to wake up in the middle of the night, and wander around the house with his eyes wide open - but was never really conscious of doing it. Usually, all he did was just walk, and when he’s tired, he will be back crashing on his bed.

There’s once, my cousin’s sleepwalking took an ominous turn into the darker side when he started to talk while doing the sleepwalking. And boy it was a bad start. It happened when he was just merely 9 years old. It was very late at night, when his dad (my uncle) was watching porn … alone (thinking that it’s safe to do so since everyone’s asleep).

Then, my cousin came wandering out from his room … sleepwalking. He then took a seat beside my uncle on the couch … and watched the porn together with him - without expression or a blink. Of course this got my uncle in a real panic state… and he does not know what to do next. My uncle knew his son was sleepwalking so, he decided just to let the little guy do what he want around … and he’ll back up to his own room. So, my uncle was kinda like sit together with his sleepwalking son on a couch … watching porn.

After it was like a whole 5 minutes, my cousin suddenly turned to look at my uncle (his own dad) … and started saying this “Kanneh ma chee bye…” (fuck your mom’s cunt - in hokkien dialect). My uncle was dumbfucked. He just responded “Ok ok … go back to sleep”.
Then, my cousin took a second wave of profanity attack against his father “Kanneh ma puki…” (fuck your mom’s cunt — in a different hokkien synonym). My uncle gave the same response - “ok ok .. i know .. just go back to sleep” … and this time, he obeyed his dad and went back to his bed.

Scary shits. The story was retold by my uncle. When I told my cousin about it … he just shrugged and claimed that he didn’t know about it. Well, either it’s a really bad case of sleepwalking … or maybe he really played possum about it.

Whatever it is, just take heed of this — if you have the habit of talking in your sleep, better sleep alone or with your mouth gagged.

*note that there’s no blog entry on June 10. That was because, I went to the bridal house to have my wedding photo taken.

9.20 am - arrives at bridal house. We’re 20 minutes late. Greeted by a blimp chick - who introduced herself as our makeup artist … I forgot her name, but let’s just call her, Fifi. Quite a friendly lady she is.

9.25 am - Fifi started her work on Emily’s face. She took out a big black case with all her tools and brushes … and wore an apron. I asked her if she’s preparing to clean some seriously clogged sewage pipe … which sent her laughing like snorting hog.

9.35 am - Emily forgot to bring along her black panties to suit one of her black transparent night dress. I was dispatched to go back home to get it for her. I told Emily I won’t be back and bid her farewell. (of course I was joking)

10.15 am - I returned to the bridal house with the piece of black panties she wanted. I couldn’t find Emily in the place. There’s a chick sitting in front of our makeup counter. Where could she be ?

10.15 am - Apparently, the knockout chick that sits in front of our makeup counter IS EMILY. Oh god. I vociferated at Fifi … “Is that my wife ??” Fifi told me that she painted her face white with foundation and some other type of uncomprehendable chemical name…. a pair of fake eyelashes … and a few dozen cans of hairspray. Emily now resembled Kelly Hu from The Scorpion King … That was the time I told Fifi and the gang of blood sucking bridal house attendants — “Now .. I am fully aware the harm that we men are exposed to …. this is so fucking deceiving !!!! ”

10.30 am - Emily fully completed her makeup session. Fifi asked me to sit in front of the makeup counter … I was shocked. “Me ? I need to makeup as well ?”. To which, Fifi nodded. Not wanting to upset Fifi, I reluctantly got myself to sit in front of the makeup counter. At first, she smeared some transparent cream on my face …

“What’s this ?”
“Amp-puse” [this is what she told me]
“amp-puse ? what does it do ?”
“amp-puse makes the foundation stick better to your skin …”
“what’s a foundation ?”
“the powder that makes your face fairer …”
“why do i need to make my face fairer ?”
“to look better in the pictures …”
“do i need to wear skirt ? shave my armpit ? bra ?”

10.35 am - Fifi took out a sponge and start to pad the so-called foundation onto my face. It felt weird. And the sponge really stinks. Imagine the same sponge that has been used to pad countless faces of soon-to-be housewives … a perfect sanctuary / breeding place of bacterias and parasites …. It reeks of unwashed socks that could literally kill a full grown leper skunk. Machao hai … I cannot believe I actually went through that.

10.40 am - Fifi asked me if I wanted to spray some colour on my hair. I vehemently protested. I told her that spraying colours on hair are immoral and is an insult to the way of a guy’s decency. I even quoted the noun - Ah Beng. Almost instantly, I was glowered by another dude who was spraying some brown colour dye on his hair … at the counter next to mine. Geez.

10.45 am - Get to meet the photographer - which is a young girl. Not very good looking but, she walks like a model. It was alright I suppose. Then, there’s this tomboy female assistant of hers that resembled David Finch in many ways. And Finch will be helping me to put on my tie and shits like that. Discussed about how we wanted the photos turned out to be … and I opted for “simple, natural and yet elegant”. We headed to the studio.

10.50 am - Studio is hot. I was sweating like mad. Finch will be helping me to wipe my sweat. How I wished that she weren’t Finch … but someone that resembled a bollywood beauty with 33C instead - then I can consider ask her to wipe somewhere else. Note … 33C is better than 34B.

Alright, for the entire day (until 7pm), both myself and Emily was made to act in front of the camera like a puppet. It wasn’t pleasant at all. The studio was hot and musty … and poor Finch had to wipe my sweat as if I’m leaking or something like that.

Upon completion of the photography session, I brought Emily out for a great dinner to celebrate … and when I reached home, I’ll have to immediately clean off the excessive mousse and hairspray from my head. Feeling exhausted, I fell asleep after stumbling out from my bath … and never regained consciousness until the next morning.

That was my day at the bridal house.