You know you’re a Malaysian if you can understand the conversation (from MSN) below:

Michael: itu lydia shum sudah mati

Luis: betui ka..

Michael: yeah. latest news

Luis: but she is old aldy ler.. i mean got problem aldy…

Michael: yeah, dia mia timing belt sudah putus

Luis: aaha.. timing belt…

Michael: dia mia piston sama itu valve semua sudah out of sync. macam yewtube mia kereta. hahah

Luis: tapi memang dia dah ada problem ler.. just that depa keep from news

Michael: i think Star published her pictures before. she basically looked like a rat… her fat all gone.

Luis: yeah…its a sad news ler..

Michael: it seems like the stars of our time are tapau-ing one after another. dude, can i blog this conversation? see if people can understand our language…

Luis: i think yes ler.. but what if lydia read this ?

Michael: lydia’s dead dude

Luis: and get upset like XXX ?

[actually, I had a case recently with a friend - whose name I masked with 'XXX' - that got really upset with me for blogging about him. His discontentment has since been allayed with a couple glasses of beer swigging measure]

Michael: you mean, her hantu come and haunt us? ahaha

Luis: ahaha

*****

If you do not understand what we’re talking about, nevermind.

Mojo Jojo was looking for some light banter at work yesterday… but he picked the wrong target

Mojo Jojo: “Hey Michael! You’re married right? Shouldn’t you be distributing angpows?”

[If you don't know what an angpow is, you ought to have your head forcefully shoved into the toilet bowl and flush... ]

I wasn’t in my fine mood, so I gave him this nasty look like I’m ready to slash his throat…

Mojo Jojo: “Where’s my angpow Michael? heheheh”

Me: “So you want angpow huh?”

Mojo Jojo: “Of course!”

Me: “Ok. Come over here. I’ll give you an angpow.”

That was when his primordial caveman instinct hinted him that his life is in danger, and he began to show withdrawal symptoms… with the flinching and all that…

Mojo Jojo: “[gulp] No thanks… eheheh. I think I’ll just go back to work”

Me: “Don’t you want my angpow? Come here you fucker. I’ll give you your angpow. FIVE BUCKS!” [and I waved my palm in the air]

He then bolted off into his lab without bringing up the ‘angpow‘ topic again.

I recall of a conversation I had with an affable Malay lady - whom I fondly call ‘Badak’ - at Company X many years ago…

Me: “Eh Badak, apasal you orang ni some ada pakai tudung dan some tadak pakai aa?”

Badak: “Tak compulsory lah. Tapi lebih baik pakai lar…”

She’s with a headscarf herself…

Me: “Apasal lar? Ni tudung-tudung ni… actually untuk apa lah?”

Badak: “Nak tutup aurat. Ni aurat tak boleh kasi lelaki bukan husband tengok.”

Me: “Urat tak boleh tengok? You mia kepala mana boleh nampak urat?”

Badak: “Auratttt, bukan uratttt. Aurat tu rambut lah. Tak boleh kasi you orang tengok rambut.”

Me: “Macam itu middle east mia orang? Depa tu cover dari kepala sampai ke kaki macam ninja lah. Tapi you orang perempuan Malaysia cover half kepala aje. Ni kenapa ni? Ni eyebrow, tangan, eyelash… ni semua pun rambut jugak kan?”

Badak: “Itu bulu… bukan rambut!”

I stared at her… and then said

Me: “Ohhh… rambut tak boleh tengok, tapi BULU boleh?”

She paused for a few seconds, processed what I had just uttered and broke into a jackass laugh

Badak: “HAHHAHHHHH! Kanneh you! KOTORRR!!”

Me: “Ni tak logik lar… rambut simpan tapi bulu tunjuk… happaraaaa…”

And she chased me over the production floor to give me an elbow…

Overheard this dialog between Milkboy and Elliot, while I was at my workbench… (it’s in Hokkien)

Milkboy : “Ah Seng ah… lu oo Lawlen eh tenwah boh?”
(translation: “Elliot… do you have Lawlen’s phone number?”)

Elliot : “Tan chek… wa choi khua…”
(translation: “Wait… let me check…”)

A good 10 seconds later…

Elliot : “Nah… ” [hands Milkboy his phone]
(translation: “There…” [hands Milkboy his phone])

Upon seeing what was displayed on Elliot’s phone, Milkboy erupted into a very gayish laughter…

Milkboy : “Eheee hee heee! Wa ai Lawlen eh tenwah lah! Mm si Lehlen eh lah! Eheee hee hee”
(translation: “Eheee hee heee! I actually want Lawlen’s phone number… not Lehlen’s! Eheee hee hee”)

Elliot caught the mirthful banter and followed suit by reciprocating an even more gayish half snort half remark

Elliot : “Oh, hweee hwee hweee! Lawlen si boh? Wa thia tiok Lehlen… hwee hwee hweee” –> I fucking swear, that’s how he laughed…
(translation: “Oh, hweee hwee hweee! Lawlen’s phone number is it? I thought you said Lehlen… hwee hwee hweee”)

Their hormonal frequency resonating each other’s… and then both of them laughed together, like retarded gay twerps.

When stupid people behave like they’re so gay like that, the combination can be so damn fucking frightening. I shudder at the very thought that these 2 must be licking and fingering each other’s anus when nobody’s around, and then to use the same fingers to hold the communal probes used in our lab…eeeeyikess!

(For your information, the 2 pajandrums mentioned in the conversation - ‘Lawlen’ & ‘Lehlen’ - were actually ‘Lawrence’ and ‘Darren’ respectively. Yes, they have problems with their tongue. Probably due to the toxicity of their anus discharge or whatever unclean object lodged in between…)

Company X corporate messenger… (certain details are modified to mask the identity of the characters)

Girl colleague : “hi michael”

Me : “Yeah”

Girl colleague : “you busy?”

Me : “What’s up?”

Girl colleague : “u heard of contest XYZ?”

Me : “contest XYZ? no ler. what’s that?”

Girl colleague : “hmmm.. u got read [prominent blogger]’s blog?”

Me : “no, i never read blogs”

Girl colleague : “go [URL]. Contest XYZ is a competition.. for u to make ur dreams come true.. winner will be rm 150k. my friend is in the final 4…”

I went to the URL. The mainpage was with a cropped image of a rather hot looking girl in a mini tube top posing the belly dancer stance. There were texts surrounding that image, urging visitors to SMS vote the siteowner in the said Contest XYZ…

Me : “you mean, your friend is in that competition?”

Girl colleague : “my friend’s dream is to own her dance studio…”

Me : “that girl is your friend?”

Girl colleague : “yes”

Me : “that photo is heavily photoshopped. your friend works in Company X?”

Girl colleague : “nope”

Me : “so what’s this all about?”

Girl colleague : “i dunno how to explain.. the main purpose is to have dance party.. its like for all those that interested in dancing.. get together .. and exchange opinion and stuff.. but u can’t make money.. so making money part is .. dance classes”

I got a little bit confused… but that was not important anyway…

Me : “so she’s organizing a party is it?”

Girl colleague : “shd be.. but so far none as i know of la.. i lama tak jumpa dia..”

Me : “oh ok. Is she going to take off her clothes at the party?”

Girl colleague : “no stripdance”

Me : “ok. so is she going to take off her skirt or pants at the party then?”

Girl colleague : “no 18SX dance”

Me : “then why should anyone go there lar?”

Girl colleague : “someone who wants to learn how to dance (the dance classes that she has in her studio). someone who would like to meet more ppl who like to dance.. ”

Me : “those people who wants to meet someone who can dance, are only interested to get into that someone’s pants. so to say, people want to dance because they want to impress girls… so that they can fuck them or somethign”

Girl colleague : “what about girls? who like to dance?”

Me : “they want to get into guys’ pants. simple.”

Girl colleague : “wow.. ur world is so simple”

Me : “it’s the reality. guys can see things girls don’t see. you girls read too much love novels.”

A guy’s world revolves around girls. Just like how much a fag’s world revolve around bungholes. *shrugs*

I had to go after that. I did that colleague (and that girl in the competition) a favour - I sent in a vote.