Hare Cut

With Chinese New Year just a week away, I went for a haircut yesterday. The normal salon that I frequent has recently started becoming popular, with me having to wait for an hour the last time I was there. Now changing hairstylists is never easy and sometimes brings regrets, but the long waiting time is a bit too much. So I tried a new salon.

 The first thing they gave me when I sat down was a catalogue of hairstyles. Right from the start I spotted a problem. It can't be considered a haircut if I walk out of there with longer hair then I came with right?

I wish I had hair like that

There was only one picture in that catalogue that was realistically possible and I showed it to the hairstylist. She glanced at it, said 'Oh, so you want short ah' and started work with a shaver. I noticed she didn't even look at the instructions that were on the page, much less follow it.

After 10 minutes I ended up looking nothing at all like what the picture suggested but I knew better than to protest. Genetically with the cards that we've been dealt with, sometimes its not possible to achieve that ideal model look. Well not for 20 bucks and 10minutes anyway. Nevertheless I'm satisfied enough and will probably consider returning in the future.

No, You Cannot Have Burgers For Chinese New Year

John 'The Orange' checked his watch. It's five minutes to midnight, five more that he needed to remain alive. The dimly lit hypermarket offered many places of refuge and he was more than thankful for a life-sized vat of wasabi peas at the centre of the SNACKS/BISCUITS aisle. Personally, he'd prefer pistachio but those half opened ends looked like they could hurt. He sank his arms under the peas leaving only the top of his forehead visible. There were whispers. John closed his eyes and strained to hear the words."Concentrate," he said to himself.

"Look, he doesn't have to do anything but if we don't kill 'The Orange' in the next five minutes we don't get paid," 'Brinjal' hissed at 'Ramly.' "We need to split up."

'Ramly' nodded. "I ambil section 'ni, you cari dekat 'tu susu dan jus."

'Brinjal' turned and ran. He's going to find that bloody 'Orange' and skewer him with sharpened chopsticks. Literally. Eight hours earlier, twenty-five men from various organizations had each been give a pair of chopsticks and a mission - kill the assassin 'Orange' before midnight. It would be safe to assume that 'Orange' himself had a pair too, judging by the wounds on the twenty-three deceased men so far. 'Brinjal' turned a corner and spotted the lifeless corpse of 'Baked Beans' impaled through his heart with, you guessed it, a chopstick.

"Unnngghh....hnnngghhh....urrgghhhh!"

'Brinjal' stopped dead in his tracks as he heard 'Ramly' struggling. He ran back to where he had left him only to find 'Ramly' crumpled on the ground with a chopstick sticking out of his jugular. He clenched his chopsticks. Surely 'Orange' can't be far...

"Shhheeeeeeuuuwwwtt!"

The lights went out. 'Brinjal' was crying.

"What the f..."

The tears kept flowing from 'Brinjal's' eyes like a full bladder at the urinal after a beer drinking contest. It took him some time to notice that the tears more viscous than normal tears should be. He felt his face and for the first time realized that the lights hadn't been switched off but rather there were chopsticks pierced into his eyeballs. They were heavy, weird almost. He looked up and felt the blunt end of the chopsticks brush his eyebrows. With a quick bone-twisting crack, he fell to the ground with his head facing the back.

"Mahai!" Orange shouted. 'Noobs! All of them!"

Clicks! (There were more than one...) Light flooded every corner of the hypermarket now. A large contingent of men in suits made their way towards him. He saw his employers - 'The Committee.' A large man spoke.

" 'The Committee' thanks all the representatives from various Guilds, Associations and Unions for participating in the 2011 membership application of the 'Chinese New Year Essential Items Register.' We regret to inform you that there will be no new additions this year. Please try again next year." The crowd dispersed.

John heard the President of 'The Bak Gua Producers Union' offering his condolences to his counterpart from 'The Brinjal Growers Association'.

"Close fight this year! Better luck next time!"

Of course, 'Bak Gua', 'Nian Gao' and 'Mandarin Oranges' are permanent members on 'The Register.' John wondered what it would be like had 'Brinjal' won. 'The Committee' being men of their words would've gone all out, conjured a brinjal dish/snack and marketed it as the 'must have' this season. These were powerful men - they owned countless chains of stores, markets and restaurants globally and every decision they make influence worldwide consumption. That's unlikely to happen though with 'The Committee's' last defeat in the annual event occurring half a century ago to a well funded consortium of various farmers, manufacturers and fishermen. Everyone takes Yee Sang for granted now.

John headed for the main exit. The staff were hard at work mopping up blood and storing body bags with lamb and beef parts in the freezer. Fireworks lit the sky outside as people celebrated New Years Day. John's mind was already on his next job two weeks from now. By then he'll be 'The Chocolate.'

Once A God, Now Not Even Acknowledged By A Dog

I'm a dog person. One of the reasons that I look forward to visiting my mother-in-law (MIL) is to see Shiki. Now I don't know how Shiki does it, but each time our car appears from a distance he will already be barking and jumping with joy. Shiki will not stop the barking till we're inside the house or have given him a pat/belly rub. Sometimes both.

Shiki

Frankly, I enjoy the attention. I had a cat for quite some time and all it ever does is eyeball me with an expression that says 'you wanna fight?' Being greeted so warmly makes you feel godly - like having your theme music played whenever you arrive. This must be how the WWE stars feel as they enter a ring.

Unfortunately the theme music stopped a couple of weeks back.

Shiki doesn't welcome us nowadays. Sometimes he'll wag his tail, sometimes he'll totally ignore us. Not a single bark of acknowledgment.What's gotten into him? The only way I can coax some response from him is if I have a doggie snack.

I'm thinking teen angst. Shiki will turn 2 later this year, meaning he's almost approaching puberty in dog years. All those raging hormones and potential territorial disputes with the more established dogs in the neighborhood must have got him depressed. MIL, however, offered a different explanation.

Normally MIL will unleash Shiki once we arrive and put him back on the leash after we've left. Recently she's stopped doing this, preferring to unleash Shiki once we've left. So before this Shiki has equated our arrival with his freedom, and he was so happy to see us because of that!

It seems like we've read this one wrong... we were the theme music all along.

It's all about me...

Mousehunt

"There are rats on the roof."


"Are you sure? I thought that's the sound of water running through the pipes."


"They're rats."

Entrance to the roof

So says my wife. I think she must have x-ray vision because I wasn't really convinced that they were rats. Since the noises kept her awake at night, something had to be done.

I bought a steel cage, armed it with a bait that no rodent can refuse and set it on the roof. It was a piece of chicken skin (KFC, taken from the thigh, Original Recipe) dipped in some cheese sauce (from the cheezy wedges) and marinated for few hours in a container of leftover gravy (from the mashed potatoes). My mouth's watering as I type this...

There was a loud 'PRRRAAAPP!' slightly after 1am and I immediately knew the trap had sprung. I thought of dealing with it the next morning, but it was making such loud frantic noises trying to escape from the cage that you can hear it from downstairs. I left it outside with its final meal.

Lil' Jimmy

Problem solved? My wife still hears some sounds. Probably Jimmy's siblings. Timmy...or Tammy. I'll have to make another trip to KFC soon.