One of the things that I have been anticipating all my life is to name my own kid. You know, to bestow her a nice & pretty name that she will be most glad to carry throughout her own life. Unlike what her father had to go through…

As a teenager, I always fretted at how my Chinese name sounded like. I can’t help but to wonder who’s the raunchy twerp that gave me this name… that I’ll have to suffer countless tauntings and distasteful nicks given by my friends and classmates as a result of its oddity…

“It’s your grandfather. Don’t look at me, it’s not my fault.” - that’s what mom said.

Yeah, that was so wise of their lazy ass to let the old man name me. Kaninabeh!

The only thing good about my Chinese name (which I ain’t gonna reveal here…), is that it carries a very good meaning (in Chinese - it means ‘a healthy world’) & I can be assured that there’ll be no duplicate of it on this planet. But that’s not the whole point. Like, you can name someone a meaningful name after a prehistoric sea cucumber… I’m sure it’ll be unique too. The key idea should be, how acceptable it is to the public. How easy it is to be pronounced without pricking a nerve or two. Shits like that.

That’s why I adopted myself the common name “Michael” a little later when I began schooling - apparently, I wasn’t very confident with how people handle my real name.

That’s why, I feel so compelled not to let this happen to my own kid. I’m gonna make sure she is going to be given a tasteful name… scrutinized right to every detail, so as not to conflict with anything at all. It would be really disconcerting to see my own kid fret at her own name later on when she reaches puberty… and adopt a name herself which goes something like p00hb34r^__^…. or perhaps PinkVulva69. (who knows what the future holds?)

Right now, we’ve gone to quite a definitive stage already. She’s going to be named as ‘Regine Ooi’, that’s for sure. And Emily’s in the midst of selecting the baby’s Chinese name… which are based on the meanings that they carry. For me, it’s not so important about what a person’s name mean… what is more important to me, is that it’s simple enough, yet not too common (like Ah Seng or Ah Lian). But it’s the elders that wanted the kid to have a name with an auspicious meaning… which I have no choice but to play along. (I’m acting as the final gate on whatever name that Emily & her cohorts of anal-retentive traditionalists manage to come up with…)

At the moment, we’re indecisive between “morning warmth” and “dual core microprocessor” (kidding bout the latter one, I’ve actually forgotten the meaning…).
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Hilarious names that I had came across :
- there’s a school teacher in my secondary year that goes by the name “Lim Kam Chooi” (in Hokkien, it phonetically means “drink orange juice”)
- another school teacher, with the first name as “King Kong”
- there’s this infamous Malaysian who got an erratic speeding ticket at 773 kph - his name is “New Ching Shit”. (this must be somekind of prank by the then NRD officer…)
- many more (which I’ve forgotten…)

One of Emily’s friend is pregnant too. But unlike us, Emily’s friend conceived her baby through some fertility consultant - where she had to pay a considerable amount of money to get pregnant. My mom asked about that friend’s well being while we’re having lunch today

My Mom: “So Emily, your friend conceived her baby through artificial procedure?”

Emily: “Sort of. It’s not really clear whether it’s due to the medication or her own effort. Coz she has been doing it everyday during that period…”

My Mom: “Do what?”

My mom was offtrack from the frequency for a while…

Emily: “Err…you know… do it? Do? Like everyday?”

Mom: “I still don’t get it…”

That’s when I chip in to save the day

Me: “Fuck. Fuck… mom. She fucks everyday”

Mom: “Oooooohhhh ok ok ok”

I then turned to Emily

Me: “See dear? Sometimes you’ve gotta go straight to the point. Just say it… FUCK.”

Mom: “Come on… not everyone’s vulgar like you”

But hey, look who’s more understandable here…

When I learned that I’m gonna be a father soon, the first thing that came in my mind was the picture of an inquisitive kid that asks “why this why that” all the time - a progeny of a profoundly quick-witted and exceptionally bright person (that’s me). Just like me when I was a kid.

I was a curious kid alright. Impeded with the fact that my mom wasn’t the knowledgeable kind and it was the prehistoric era prior the invention of internet, I mostly gratify my curiosity through my own acute observations. But for some of them, I had to actually ask my mom about it (that’s because the breadwinner’s always out there somewhere winning breads, bah!). I remember one of them being the ultimate question about conceiving babies:

“Mom, how does a man and a woman conceive a baby?”. I was only 6 or so… I think.

“Son, it happens when a man and a woman sleeps together.”

“How is that possible?”

“You see, at night… when all’s quiet and still, there will be these little worms crawling out from a man’s kukuciao, and eventually they’ll make their way into a woman’s stomach through the mouth. From there, one of the worms will settle down and turn into a baby.”

“[gasp!] EWWWWWWHHHHH!!!!! So babies were originated from worms???”

Conceiving babies is nothing of that sort, so I later found, although what she explained could be my first nebulous knowledge about girls-who-swallow… But that was the understanding I carried with me through a portion of my prepubescent life, until I started elementary schooling.

I do not know why my mom refused to impart the truth to me at that time. Probably feared that I might not be able to handle it (like, I might go around making babies out of every decent parents’ daughter?). But she could have shunned me off by yelling “shut up”… that’ll be a better alternative than infusing me with a bogus fact.

And that was probably why I decided to model my parenting style against mom’s. I’m gonna be all honest about everything and not to avoid my kid’s inquiries (I’m gonna try, yeah). We’re in the 21st century now, and it’s not very hard to learn about things that you’re not supposed to know… so why not veer the kid into the correct direction instead? If you can’t prevent it, then control it.

The only problem with this approach is probably if I’m good enough for this. Will I be acquainted enough to quench a 21st century kid’s thirst for knowledge? At the moment, maybe yes. But I’m not so sure in a few years’ time. Who knows what the chlorine in our water and old age would do to my brain then? I’d be so intoxicated with synthetic chemicals (from the shaving creams, detergents, food, pollutions, etc) that I probably won’t even have the aptitude to sound coherent at all.

Perhaps I should just blog everything out, so that each time my kid asks me a question and I’m not in the shape to answer him/her, I’d just conveniently point him/her to MichaelOoi.net and read everything by him/herself. (and hey, if YOUR kid wanted to know what Uncle Michael’s kid learn at home, you can hover over to his family-blog too).

I guess I’ll just do that. Yes I’m gonna do that.
(now if you’re worried about your kid being exposed to expletives & profanities in this blog, rest assured, it’s not going to be an issue. Like, if your kid’s able to reach my blog through the internet with ease, what makes you think he/she won’t stumble into something even more sinister than my 62% site? Like an online bestiality movement or something? Just an idea, that you should probably be worried about somethinng more significant…)

Got a message from a stranger in ICQ

selina (09:31 PM) : hi
michael (09:31 PM) : hi
selina (09:32 PM) : can i chat with u
michael (09:33 PM) : i thought you’re already doing that now…
selina (09:34 PM) : do wat
michael (09:34 PM) : do what you’re asking…
selina (09:35 PM) : no lah

ACCKKKKKK!!!!! DOLT ALERT!!! DOLT ALERT!!!! (I have a knack of being able to identify a dolt with just a few sentences’ depth of conversation..)

michael (09:38 PM) : excuse me, can you like… message me again… say, in 2015? I’m kinda busy right now…
selina (09:38 PM) : hee
michael (09:40 PM) : ermmm, if you’re retarded, you should probably just stay away from computers…
michael (09:40 PM) : sorry, probably you should just stay away from anything that has to do with electricity

Never got her response after that. Probably committed suicide (hey! it’s a good thing!)

I received an SMS from my colleague today:
“fyi: I am admitted to GMC hospital (fever) in Room ###, XXXXXX 019-#######”

I replied his message
“so you want me to buy you flowers or something?”

Colleague
“haha sent to wrong person! pls ignore”

Me
“ok. I thought you’ve caught the ‘Brokeback Mountain’ fever… and needed some brotherly love. You freaked me for a moment there..”

Like who wouldn’t. Imagine your guy friend suddenly were to SMS you that he’s warded due to some anal sphincter complications and start beckoning for attention like a squashy fag asking for a gift of barbie doll. (I later learned that he has been sending the same message to some of my guy colleagues as well… creepy)

Speaking of barbie dolls, I saw the bizarrest of all bizarre shits today. I was stopping at this traffic lights returning from lunch with the guys, and saw this late middle-aged yuppie man waiting in his car besides mine. At the first glance, everything seemed normal about the man, except for his uncannily gray shoulder length hair that reminded me of that old slug Kwai Chang Caine in “Kungfu the Legend Continues”.

But as I focus deeper into his beat-up Proton, I saw something disturbing perched on top of his car dashboard - a barbie doll.

“OMFG guys! Look!! That old man has a barbie doll sitting on his car dash!! Ewwwwwhhhh!!!”

Now why would an old man adorn his car dash with a barbie doll? That’s so unconventional. Why not something else? Something like a He-Man figure or a toyol? (alright, that may be a bad example, but at least… it’s not HALF AS BAD as a fucking barbie doll…)

As if it’s not distasteful enough, the old geezer stretched out one of his hands to caress the doll… right on it’s thighs. (Or he might be adjusting that AmbiPure car fragrance valve?… but I doubted that - how often do you adjust your car fragrance’s valve anyway? And what’s with the pervert smirk on his face while he’s doing that?)

Obviously disturbed, I remarked to the guys
“Old pervert that molests children… that’s what he is…”

I don’t know why I stereotyped him as such. But to hell if I’m right about that, the key thing is… if you see some guy frolicking with a barbie doll at any stage of his life, that would only denote that he is confused about his own gender, is fucked up and is usually up to no good.

Realizing the stares, the old man glanced back petulantly and we sped off at the green… never to look back at that sadistic monster.