Don’t Drink and Talk
Yesterday we went to Kajang… or was it Kepong… or Klang? argh, anyway, it was a place called North Port.
Michelle brought a bottle of lovely cocktail from Phuket. And I bought a confidence too big to contain.
Seafood were amazing, but Will’s parents are around, and I’m trying to look as composed as possible. Keeping a low profile so that no strings of integgoration are shot at me mercilessly. In other words – I shuddup and eat.
The Vodka-PAssionfruit Cocktail is amazing. Too amazing, i can’t stop myself from taking sips after another continuously, strongly believed in my massive alcohol tolerence level. By the time crab is served, I looked up at Michelle and said “shit, I felt dizzy, think Tsunami’s coming?”
Yes. Laughter roared, my balls confidence shrunked.
Lovely salted-egg crab can’t do enough to keep them from poking at me for the Tsunami crap.
ahh… so much for shuddup and eat.
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Michelle said something i JUST need to quote:
“Basking in the glory of attention” – (referring to her 3 yr old who’s cracking everybody up by parroting everything his aunt’s saying)
SHE should be blogging.
Who’s to blame?
Nurin’s case stirred the nation. Even my family members contributed their opinion towards the case over dinner. I tried to keep my fingers bent, but being almost in the situation myself, made me felt like turning green and stomp the police force flat.
Then again, the thought of having to waste money on torn clothes due to sudden-muscle-enlargment-disorder, made me think twice about what I suggested.
And green is… really not my color.
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Let me share a story I once considered – an embarassment:
I started to walk to tuition since form 2. It was a 5 minutes walk. It happened on a starry night, when my next door neighbour had decided to go home first.
As usual, little geek held her green transparent file/folder at her chest.
I walked my usual walk, counting the steps as I go, watching my Power sport shoes lapping each other.
I heard sound of bicycle chain upfront, and yet I don’t care. Cycling had been a popular children’s past time in the neighbourhood. Although it hadn’t been a norm to have kids cycling at night, I did not care anyway. I’ve expected it to past by me, but it felt wrong when the bicycle sounded like its going to hit me. I lift my head in the instance I felt danger and slam! The son of a bitch hit his hand on my folder protected chest.
No, he did not get what he wanted, but I felt violated.
I turned around and gave a loud roar out of panic and anger, and he fell.
Yes, he fell off his bike.
A normal me would have been dumb-strickened, but yet somehow, a force of strength dragged my leg to that barely-teenage son of a bitch, and gave a blow of fist on his back. The punch felt weak, but I did not planned any of that to happened. I flew back running, after that. Looking back to make sure he’s not following me.
Mom wouldn’t let me go when a neighbour decided to lodge a police report along with the other girls who had suffered the same ordeal. They went. And I stayed back with hope.
No investigation had been done though.
Days later, my brother’s friend’s sister met that son-of-a-bitch. She was molested. Same case, Quick one, but still…
Both my brother and his friend decided that enough is enough. They wore capes and masks with underwear on the outside and went looking for “The-malay-teen-with-a-red-bike”. He was caught loitering by the surau in his uniform. He cried, and denied when he was questioned. Brother’s friend’s sister are brought to identify him, and it was unmistakenly, the son-of-a-bitch idiotic-soh-hai-puki-mak-boh-kasi-asshole.
Then, came a old malay uncle with a white headgear. He defended him, saying that my brother (in his late teens) being unhumane and unfair for taking hold of him like that. He said that both my brother and his friends are just bullying the kid because he’s outnumbered by US CHINESES at that time. He wouldn’t believe it when my brother explained that he was the molester and they’re gona bring him to the station. He even threatened to call the police and demanded that the ‘child’ be freed.
Little did he knew, police had been called. When he police came, Mr.WhiteHeadGearHero miraculously changed his point of view, and said “padan muka, buat malu aja!”
Magik, kan?
He was realeased later without even a day’s lockup. One warning was all he get for molesting so many girls, traumatizing my brother’s friend’s sister to the point where she dared not walk out alone anymore. I may be a strong person, but there are so many other weaker girls who might have their life changed after that. And yet – one warning is all he get.
One Warning is all he get and who’s the one doing all the dirty work?
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Royal Malaysia Police Force *sigh* … don’t get me started about my neighbour robbery case in Penang, my old office break-in case, my brother’s road accident…
Giler glamour they called it – When people only does things that solves media stirups while the quieter case were left to rot. Or rather – Chicken, when they only does things that doesn’t involve their safety.
Who’s to blame now?
Beer craving
I am craving for mooncakes and beer right now.
I supposed if given a chance, I’d light up some candles by the pool, after 10, get some tinned beers and some kacang to go with it.
Nothing to do with being romantic. Its just that the pool light goes off at 10.
Problem is… I won’t want to do it alone. Apartment guards would set dogs on me. Hospital Bahagia would strap me in. And nobody’s wuliao enough to do it with me.
Michelle’s got her *roll eye* hyperactive kid to attend to, Will has got his PS to live with, Amy’s too holy to even invite without getting a sermon about beer belly and bad taste… the rest… I never tried inviting the rest of the human beans (org kacang) to my place. So…
Think I should try?
