Thank you.

I’ve no more tears to cry. I am now emotionally drained.

I had cried the whole night. I even cried in my dream.

As cliché as it sound, yes, life is so unfair. My wants, my wishes… my 3 ultimate desires… No one, NOT ONE FUCKING SOUL CAN HELP ME ACHIEVE IT! Not YOU, YOU or EVEN YOU! FUCK YOU!

It may sound melodramatic to you, so what? What do you know what goes in my head? What do you know about suppress desires? My wants are bigger and greater than ever and it matters a lot to me because it’s mine. I don’t care about YOUR wants because EACH AND EVERYTIME YOU WANT SOMETHING, I’M THERE TO PROVIDE YOU TO HELP YOU AND EVEN WENT TO THE EXTREME TO GET IT FOR YOU. And this is what I get in return?

Thank you very much, selfish asshole(s).

Maybe I’m the only one with these issues?

If 10 people agree with you but ONLY one person doesn’t and give you a negative feedback, why do you let that one negative person gets to you?

If someone ask you “Are you happy?” and you wonder why would he/she ask you such question when obviously you are happy and you ponder on that matter for hours and hours no end until you realize you just waste your time thinking whether you are happy or not when in fact, if you’re not crying or wailing or hurt or in pain or depress, yes, yes, you are happy.


If you’re new in something, take for example, Twitter, do you watch and learn from others or do you banzai your way in and think your unique way of doing it is so awesome-bow-to-my-superiority-doofus? I’m just saying coz the way you tweet is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen in my long history in Twitter.


If you keep flaunting and bragging about your wealth, you are showing your insecurities and unhappiness. If you keep quiet and be humble, you are wise and confident. Same goes with your relationship. If you always talk about how great/generous/successful/rich/loving/gorgeous/handsome your partner is, you are not injecting jealousy in others. You are injecting insecurities onto yourself.


If you teach your children by saying, “If you don’t do well in school, you’ll end up like your cousin/neighbor/friend Balqiz. Do you want to be like her?” (Whoa… Whoa… What?) Do you think giving an example like that will teach your children to be a better person or a judgmental one? It is no wonder racism and hatred exists.


I’m in my negative mood. Bite me.

My 2011 To-do List

1. Dust and vacuum the WHOLE house excluding the garage and toilet ONCE A WEEK.

2. Buy a book shelve, a shoe cabinet and a kitchen cabinet (b-b-b-but portable kitchen cabinet is so fugly… *whine*)

3. Paint the house, the doors and to make sure there’s no single drop of paint on the sofa or carpets for fucksake.

4. Work out. Go to the gym or jogging or kickboxing once a week AT LEAST!

5. See a dentist and pull that bloody wisdom tooth out before it grow so big, it pushes all your other teeth out of your mouth goddamnit.

6. Facial. Facial. Facial. Please. For vanity sake, go for a facial once a month!

7. Buy 2 more Guess or CK Jeans coz Levis makes your ass looks loopy.

8. Hang out with girlfriends once a week instead of gluing yourself in front of the TV from dusk to dawn.

9. Buy new shoes. Something that will not hurt your feet when you climb up the staircase coz limping is NOT sexy.


11. Listen more and talk less (Pfft. Yeah. Sure. Good luck trying)

12. Eat more fruits.

13. Pay cash. Dun. Dun. Dun….


15. Learn to cook (UUGHHHH!!! Cooking frustrates me no ends. These 2 weeks I’ve been trying to cook and ALL MY COOKING END UP IN THE GARBAGE BIN BECAUSE IT TASTED LIKE CRUDE OIL!)

16. Once the house is fully LIVEABLE, invite friends and family for a BBQ.

17. Please scrub, sun screen and lotion your armadillo’s skin.

18. Take calcium. And all your vitamins. If you can remember to steal a bite from a chocolate bar, YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO REMEMBER TO TAKE YOUR VITAMINS.

19. Wear less make-up.

20. No online shopping. Period.

No funny ha-ha post this week.

I am so not in the mood to write anything or take photo these past few days.

Lately, I’ve been in and out of sickbed. So most of the time, I’m at home surrounded by medicines and watching Charmed on DVD (currently watching Season 3). If not, I’m at work.

I wish I can take medical leave but I’ve lots of office work to do before the long Gawai holiday (1 week! ONE.WHOLE. FREAKING. WEEK. BITCHES! But Imma spend it at home instead… *emo*kick pebbles*Hands in pockets*walk aimlessly in rain*)

Hopefully next few days, my muse will kick me in the groin and I'm back blogging.
Till then, bai.

Babies Galore!

Handsome baby Dylan gazing at his Mommy, Leezbeth Edward Ong.


Adorable baby girl Eszell Lian


Olly, you're baby is so chubby and cute!


I wonder when will God give me one of my own?

Here comes weekend, y'all! Wheeeeeeeeeee!


The crap you miss last month

Apparently I forgot to hit the publish button last month therefore as a result, a post that is half moldy and stinky and rotten to the core... But hey, at least I spotted this early and hit PUBLISH as soon as I reread everything and think... hmmm... Okay. Definately "Publishable"

You see, I was trying to blog via my iPad. Let me tell you one thing about blogging via iPad... NOT. EASY. YO. I think I give up when I was tired of wrestling with the coding and drown my sorrow by stuffing my face with chocolates.

Blogger, you made me wish I had been using Wordpress all these while...

And since Adobe Photoshop (PS Express) app does not have watermark function, I had to use other app to watermark my photos. I used Impression. Pretty useful actually.


Turtleneck by MNG
Necklace by Axxezz


You would THUNK I have the time to apply fake lashes and all those shits on my face just so I can look gorgeous in snow? Fat chance, dude. Those lashes, contact lens and makeup are effects I created using Fotolr Photo Studio HD app.
When I first discover this app, I went gaga over it. I even ‘prettyfied’ my mom’s cat, Tepet Shawshank Redemption Hook Shot the Third
The before photo


See? She’s so cuooote! Like plastic! (Mom is so gonna murder me)

Moving on!


Checkered shirt by F21

Sunglass by Gucci (Bought it at a super low price that I asked the salesperson, “Is this really original or you’re an unethical human being who wants to sell me fake sunnies at RM400 a pop?” No, of course I didn’t ask her THAT question. Why the fuck would I ask that question in a Gucci boutique? But I admit I was irritated that Ms Salesperson gave me the I-are-baboon-with-no-money-to-afford-shit look. So I bought it to spite her. I don’t think I can cry WIN in this situation, huh? FML)


Same shirt. Just different color. I bought 2 of it coz it makes me feel… young (Oh for crying out loud) And I was not happy with that gigantic zit on my face. I swear it was so huge, I can use it to hang a photo frame. Or a lantern while you’re at it. Or hang yourself if you feel like it.


Blouse by Zara

Each and every time my hairdresser gives me a new haircut; I have this urge to howl at the moon or at anybody for that matter. I always, always hate my hair after I walked out of a saloon after a wash/blow/dye/cut. Once I’m out of my hairdresser’s eyesight, I will start messing my hair around just to get that I-just-woke-up-from-a-night-of-orgies-with-my-cats look. But this time, I didn’t mess it up. I took a photo of it first AND THEN I messed it up. Win.
Last photo. I promised.


This cracks me up. That’s my brother next to me. We were checking out this new army shop in Bintang Megamall, Miri and spotted these awesome masks. I think it’s a mask. Whatever. I want to get it so I can wear it on a bike ride with the mister but I think it’s illegal to give pedestrians on road a cardiac arrest. So I didn’t get it *muttered STUPID PEDESTRIANS SO WEAK GO DIE* *Emo*


When you're too hot to handle, everything else will follow. Including things you don't like.

This is a password protected post

This is the reason why I’m a gnat and my husband’s an android.


Check out the mister’s post on Borneo Jazz Festival, 2011.

First day.

Second day.

He came up with a better post than I did. *sulking*hands in pockets*kick dust*emo*

He covered the whole event in details whereas I wrote as if I was stabbing the keyboard with forks.


Go check it out!

Jazz Fever at 2011 Borneo Jazz Festival

I had an awesome night at Borneo Jazz Festival.

Despite the sudden migraine I suffered the whole night, the entertainment that night was so good, it lifted up my spirit and I was swaying with the fantastic performances!

However, the next day, I paid the price -I had to hide myself in my room, with no lights, no noise, just blankets and aircondition. I now know how it feels to be a vampire. Any slight movement or just a tiny light, BAM! My migraine hit me hard till my eyeballs pops out of its sockets. And it lasted for 2 days and 2 nights straight.

Anyhoo, who wants to hear about migraines when there's photos to feast the eyes, roite?

Enjoy the photos!








An eco-friendly food container!

Dinner was Penang Char Kueh Tiaw which was SLLURRRRRPPPPPFEST! I was tweeting LIVE the whole night (that explains the phone and err yeah... I forgot what I want to write just now. Damn short term memory lost!)

The first performance was by SIU2 from China


Then by Cunha E Piper from Brazil/Australia


John Hammond from USA



And my long-awaited band... THE LES DOIGTS DE L'HOMME from France!!!


If I'm not married, I'll ask the middle one whether he wants to breed beautiful babies with me...


I told the mister that and he was threatening to drag me back home instantly.


I love my husband.


With Daphne and Elsa.



Thank you Sarawak Tourism Board for organising this awesome event! And thank you to Sarawak Blogger for sending me to cover the night via Twitter and Blogging about it.



P/s I think I'm better at Tweeting about events rather than writing about it. Le sigh...

Isn't it pretty to think so?


“I think it was mostly truth I was after. I know now that truth is a troubling thing. You can’t snort your way to it. You can’t drink your way to it. You can’t fuck your way to it. You can’t cheat your way to it. You can’t love your way to it. You can only let it envelop you and try to make sense of it all.”

— Nick Miller (Isn't it pretty to think so?)

Day 28 ~ A picture of something you're afraid of


It scares me to know there are millions of good books in this world that I haven't read.

It scares me to know I can never read all the books in this world before I die.

It scares me to know there will be a day where books no longer exist; instead, my children and my grandchildren will read stories via gadgets. They will not know the smell of a new book or a musty smell of an old book. They will not know the joy of flipping pages after pages and feeling the texture in their hands.

Worst, it scares me to know I have this intense thirst to READ ALL THE BOOKS IN THIS WORLD ARE YOU CRAZY, ME? LIKE REALLY? ALL THE BOOKS? Yeah. All. The. Books.

I wish there really is a never ending story book....

Photo via Bookshelves Tumblr

Day 27 ~ A picture of yourself and a family member


My 45-year-old sister.


This post is brought to you by THAT-RACCOON'S-ASS-IS-MINE!!!!!!!!!!

Things I want to do this weekend:

1. Clean up the reading room. Last night I swear I smell a raccoon hiding among the clutters. And by cleaning up, I mean, throw boxes away, throw/give away things I don’t use/need/eat anymore, rearrange all my books and put all books on floor back on shelf and once done, I’ll throw a farewell party for raccoon(s).

2. I can’t believe I can only think of one thing to do this weekend.

Should I post this?

Hit Publish Button

Oh shit.

I Don't Know About You But This Week Imma SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ALL WEEK LONG!!!



Formerly known as Miri International Jazz Festival, Borneo Jazz is back this year with more exuberant and vibrant!

On 12-15 May 2011, this extravaganza will offer continuous music and performances that represent a broad range of traditional and contemporary Jazz expressions by internationally renowned guests such as Maria Muldaur, Yuichiro Tokuda's Ralyzz Dig, Les Doigts De L'Homme, Victor Yong & the Electric Carnival Band and many more.

This year’s event will be a 4 day event and the whole city of Miri will resonate with the sounds of music as the festival will be spread out across the city in different venues where musical meetings will be held during the day, apart from the main shows on the nights of 13-14 May.

12 May -Marina Bay Seafood Restaurant
13 May -Parkcity Everly Hotel
14 May -Parkcity Everly Hotel
15 May -Eastwood Valley Golf Club

Tickets can be purchased ONLINE. Tickets are also available at the festival entrance

Be there aight!

If you spotted me there, say hi and buy me a drink! I insist! Oh go on! Don't be shy! I'm a shy person myself and most probably will be hiding, watching all the fun up on a tree branch.

So, will you be there?

Will you be there?

Will you be there?

Will you be there?


Thanks to Sarawak Bloggers,  I'll be covering this event and will be Tweeting LIVE too (#borneojazz) so GO ON AND FOLLOW ME WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!

See you there, Chickadees!


A Unique, One of Kind, Rare Finding in the History of My Life

Be forewarned: This post is fucking long. Make yourself comfortable, make sure there’s plenty of drinks and food around you coz by the time you finish reading, it’s July 2012.


I had a wonderful birthday this year. One of the best I’ve ever had in my entire life. Ok, maybe when I turned 18 was also one of the bestest birthday celebration EV-ER but there was no gifts from friends and family. Only lots of partying. By partying, I mean, the whole month of April, every day and night, party nonstop. I was like a younger version of Ke$ha back then. Minus the slutty outfits. Or not. I can’t remember *whistling*

So, as you already had guessed, I went to Melaka on my birthday. It was an impromptu decision by my parents and been a life long desire of mine to step in Malaysia’s most historical city.

There, I found something so unique that as a birthday gift to myself, I bought it without thinking twice. It's a bound feet shoes.




It’s really tiny. I can’t even fit my fist in it.

It’s actually a shoe made for ‘bound feet’ women. Cool eh?

There is only one place left on earth that sells this shoe and it’s at Jonker Street, Melaka, Malaysia. I was so enthralled by this rare, unique and one of a kind shoes and maybe, maybe one day this shoes will worth something, eh?

At the shop:

Why yes, that hairy arm belongs to me.


I was told that this shoe is a pattern usually made for royalties.

My sister with the royal shoes.

There’s a story/article about bound feet that was given together with my purchase and since it’s so fascinating, I’m sharing it here with you.



“To speak of her bound feet to a Chinese lady is a little like asking a Frenchwoman about her clitoris!”

This was a Sinologue Marie Holtzmann’s way of enlightening us on the difficulty of our mission: to meet in China the last women who had their feet bound and to record their account of this custom which has tormented millions of women for more than a thousand years.

Hotzmann was convinced, at least that we would be able to find these Chinese women, even thought this practice was officially banned in 1911. Knowing that the feet of infant girls between the age of two and eight years were usually bound, it was possible that 90-year-old women today would have live through the ordeal. Taking into account the vastness of the country, it was probable that the ban was not respected overnight. In any case, we had to try to locate these women before it was really too late.

It is winter in Beijing. It is close to minus 20 degrees. The roads are either deserter or crossed hastily by people bundled up to their eyes. Where could we find these old ladies?

We try to contact people from various associations in charge of old people. Their tone is very cold. We were at an impasse. The Chinese do not like foreigners’ involving themselves with such sensitive subjects because they are ashamed of this customs and d not wish to expose themselves to possible criticism. We try friends of friends. Many reveal to us that their grandmothers have bound feet but it was out of the question to meet them, they affirm that they could not enthusiastically speak on this subject with foreigners; they themselves had never dared to bring up this topic to them.

Thus, we decided to hang around the old, traditional parts of Beijing, the ‘Hutongs’, where the majority of inhabitants were old folk. We finally notice a grandmother whose footsteps are characteristic of a woman with bound feet. This means that she walks like a duck, pressing on their heels, her feet shaped like a fan...

What is more surprising is that she walks quickly, running even, behind her granddaughter whom she is accompanying to school. The perseverance of our translator finds us at her home. A feat, because to these old people indoctrinated for many years with Maoism, foreign involvement remains somewhat of a taboo, all contact with them having been forbidding for such a long time.

At 72, Elegance wears the Mao jacket, and lives in a single room where a fridge and a TV are enthroned. Here, one washes himself or herself outside, even in winter. When we finally bring up the question about her feet, after a flash of surprise, she speaks with disconcerting ease. Like any old person who likes to talk about the past, she seems to appreciate being able to pour her feelings on this subject.

Everything is square about her; her height, her face, her straight hair, it is clear that she has lost all taste for vanity a long time ago. She compares, laughingly, her two small feet with those of her neighbour, who came over to join us very quickly, curious to see foreigners visiting in the neighbourhood. The latter is from the South and had, she says, “the good fortune to escape this barbaric custom”.

Elegance started to bind her feet at the age of six years. “Because I found this very beautiful. I suffered a lot when binding them and my mother told me, “Don’t cry. If you want to stop, you stop!” During this time, few women still did it. Even my father didn’t want me to continue. I did it almost against their will. I found my mother’s feet very beautiful, even if they caused her hurt. I couldn’t place on the floor the front of my feet and I still can’t today.”

“I had difficulty finding shoes of my size so I made up the difference in size with stockings,” she explains to us while to our great surprise, she takes off her slippers and large number of stockings to reveal her feet covered, however, with a pair of socks. Only her big toe and first two toes are flat, the others are completely curled up under the soles of her feet where a strange, large ball has formed. “The bones of my toes are all broken. My friends have advised me to cut them off. It seems that it becomes less painful but I am afraid of doing it.”

She stopped binding her feet when she was 20, “when it became unfashionable”. Then she adds, whispering, as if she should never say such a thing, “at that time, I was a little sorry that it became out of fashion!”

Elegance was to be the only one among dozens of women we met who still wanted her feet bound.

According to American historian Dorothy Ko, who studied the life of 16th century Chinese women, we can only separate “the complexity of motivations and sentiments of women. To have bound feet was the most important event in their life and culture as a woman. To bind them was to accomplish the supreme art of femininity. Despite all the weight of mate erotic attraction placed on bound feet,” she writes –this custom would never have lasted more than a thousand years without the determination and pride of the women throughout this ordeal.

The origin of this custom dates back to the 10th century. Stemming from the desire of dancers wanting to have feet the size of a lotus flower, this practice was quickly imitated by courtesans, joined by women of the richer class. To have bound feet became a sign of social distinction. To confine women in the family to the boudoir was to prove that they did not need to work. Thus, their movements are limited.

In the end, this custom was adopted by all social classes, even the peasants and farmers, where the women we met came from, like Zhen, still careful of her appearance at 74 years of age and who dyes her hair ebony black. She remembers that all the women of her family had bound feet. For the majority, it was dreadful, as they had to go to work in the fields in spite of everything. “I remember that my mother could only work on her knees; standing was too painful for her”

Zhen started to bind her feet in 1930, at the age of eight. “I didn’t want to do it! And my mother did not want to force me. But family intervened. They said that i had to bind my feet; otherwise I would not find a husband. During that time, even if a girl was very pretty, she was despised if she had big feet and no one would want her. My father left to work in Beijing and returned saying that feet binding was over, it was longer done. But the rest of the family did not believe him and insisted and convinced my mother to force me to do it.”

When she started to bind my feet, I had to keep the bandage on night and day, but this became so unbearable that I took it off at night. Thus, my mother made me a pair of shoes which I could not remove. I shouted, cried, but she did not give in, and I had to continue. At the beginning, she placed a huge stone on the arch of my feet to break the bones more quickly.

“We used clothes of between three to ten meters long to bind the feet. We curled up all the toes, except the big toe, under the arch of the sole so that the foot would be perfected pointed. The bandage, firmly sewn at the beginning, led the flesh to decay, thus preventing the foot from growing bigger. The feet were often bloody. We continued binding our feet during the rest of our lives, to maintain their abnormal shape.

“In the beginning, it was hell, as each day, the bandage became tighter and tighter,” recounts Chun, 78 years old, forced as well by her mother to bind her feet. “But once the toe bones were broken, it became less painful.”

The smallest feet we saw were those of Xiu, the eldest of them all. She was 90 years old and her feet were barely longer than her hand. They were so minuscule and so deformed. Her terribly arched feet have become ankles.

Xiu has a lot more difficulty walking than the others and supports herself almost all the time with a cane. “My largest fear is my great-grandchildren. I only need to be pushed slightly for me to lose my balance.

Like all Chinese women, she only had one explanation for binding her feet. “It was the main condition in order for us to find a husband. And to marry was our only future,” she summarizes. This sentence, ‘to find a husband’, was thus the theme of their childhood, and of their suffering.

But why was it s important to their ‘husbands’? Why did they like bound feet so much? These questions produced laughter. A rather cheeky laughter. And they never said anything more, inferring that their laughter was sufficient eloquent. How could we miss the importance of feet in Chinese sexuality? Chinese men appreciated bound feet so much because they had a fundamental erotic value. Every and anything was written on this subject. It was claimed that bound feet muscled the vagina, giving men the feeling of penetrating young virgins.

What is certain is that the foot was an object of desire. That a woman allows a man to nonchalantly caress her bare foot was the signal that a relationship could start between them. But if a man touched them by accident, it was worse than having touched her breasts of buttocks.

The handling of feet was essential prelude to sexual act, a perfect stimulant, as described by Howard Levy in his book, Lovers of the Lotus: Story of the strange erotic custom of bound feet in China.

“Their ears were in love with the sound of women’s footsteps, whereas their noses inhaled the odour of the perfumed soles of the feet. To achieve ecstasy, the lover would bring the foot from his hand to his mouth, kiss it, suck it, insert the foot into his mouth until both cheeks are full, chewing vigorously on it. The lover would press the foot lovingly against his chest, knees or genitals. He was often willing to wash the feet of his adored one, liking to cut, without hesitation, her toenails by himself, and even ate watermelon seeds and almonds which he placed between her toes.”

Men were apparently not turned off by the smell of the decayed flesh of the feet. The odour, when a woman takes off her shoes, was enough – when someone faints – to revive him. It was, it is said, more effective than smelling salts! Women who were well-off, drenched their feet in perfumes, more to cultivate the special fragrance, it seems, than to drown out the original smell.

All these charms which caused Chinese women so many tears suddenly became out-of-date at the beginning of the century. And if voices were raised in past centuries to condemn this custom, they had to wait until 1911 in order for the proposals of intellectual Chinese, made through the influence of foreigners, especially furious missionaries, to carry sufficient weight to provoke a ban.

But this practice would still continue for years in the most remote regions. It was thus that we found a woman who had her feet bound in 1943! Ying lived in the Shandong region, in the mountains surrounding the town of Jinan. She was 10 years old then, 63 today.

“In my village, peasants refused to have their daughters’ feet unbound. It was my mother who forced me to do it. Nevertheless, she suffered a lot herself because of her feet at work. When she enveloped mine with the cloths, I couldn’t walk a step. Little by little, I succeeded in walking again when my bones were broken. I cried every night. Sometimes in order not to suffer, I secretly removed the bandage. My mother beat me but I didn’t care”

It was, she says, the “Liberations’ which ended up freeing her of her bandages. And her husband, she recounts, who was overjoyed to have married a woman with bound feet, encouraged her to stop. “It was like that, during the “Liberation”, everyone changed their opinions and the fact that I had bound feet suddenly became a source of embarrassment to him”

Yin, 78, did not ask the opinion of her spouse to stop a year after her marriage at the age of 20. “It was no longer the fashion and then I didn’t care I was pretty or not because I had already found a husband”

For her as well as for others, removing the bandages proved to be another ordeal. “It became more painful because my feet, used to being protected by cloth, touched the round directly. This hurt them and I often had bloody feet. Our 90-year-old grandmother waited till she was 60 to remove her bandages. First of all, I didn’t dare to walk as my bones were completely broken. I was afraid of falling all the time. I no longer had any balance. I decided to take away the cloth little by little, meter by meter. In fact, I really had to learn how walk again.”

In ceasing to bind their feet, all of a sudden, their years of torture no longer meant anything. They were taught to be proud of their tiny feet. They were then taught to be ashamed of them. And consequently to be ashamed of themselves. Some were blamed publicly during eradication campaigns. Others who bound their feet in order to find a husband, found themselves rejected because of their small feet. With the arrival of Mao, they became the ‘victims’ and the ‘symbol of a feudal and barbaric era,’ expressions which they would mumble in chorus, like a well repeated speech.

Faced with the absurdity of having bound and then unbound their feet, useless objects of permanent suffering, one of them asked us what the use if investigating this topic. “It would change the fact that all the bones of my toes are broken. Unless you have a solution?”

All, with the exception of Elegance, tell us their relief to see the end forever of the era of bound feet. Xiu, a 90 year old grandmother, puts it beautifully to our 20 year old translator. “You can live like a flower having the right to bloom, you are fortunate. For us, in our ancient society, our youth had a bitter taste. I am happy for you.” She was shocked to learn that our translator, in fact, also has bound feet. “But it is not even in fashion!” she insists. “Simply, my mother and I found that my feet were too big. So, for 6 months, I bound them to reduce their size. I suffered a little but not much! And today, my feet are a lot more beautiful!”

To her knowledge, she is the only to have done so. But as she has never dared to reveal that she bound her feet, it is possible that her friends have hidden this fact from her as well. For a young Chinese woman today, small feet are still considered a criterion of beauty. A custom that lasted thousands of years cannot be forgotten in less than a century.

Excerpt from an article by Catherine Moniajon.

(I've so many rude and sick jokes running in my head while reading this article that if I write it down here, man, I can't imagine the hate mails come pouring in. Instead, I just shared it with my sister and we had cramp stomach laughing our ass off. Yes, yes. We're sick that way)

They know my Achilles heel


Thank you for the birthday gift, Nurul!

And a surprise gift on the same day, husband!


You must be THIS short to read this post

This month, I’m paying back all the debt I owe myself in April. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Read a book. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Cook neighbor’s heads for making such a racket when I try to sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

Last night I slept at 7:30pm. Years ago when I used to fall asleep that fucking early was because I was a depressive hibernating chipmunk. Remember, when you sleep A LOT, it could be a sign of depression. I’m serious! *Lift left eyebrow while doing the Russian dance*

But this time, I was just plain honest to goodness tired. And also fucking lazy as hell.

You guys are awesome. Really! Thanks for taking the time to email me and tell me what’s what and yes, I still haven’t reply you NOT BECAUSE I DON’T APPRECIATE YOUR EMAILS but because I rather use my time to imitate a ninja snail and try to blend in my surrounding. A feat worth documenting in the history of my life.

*Groan* It's too early for spewing rants.
I need my hot tea… or a Tequila shot. Whichever that the tea lady can bring me...


Supporting Sarawak Go Bald Campaign! Shavers not included.

On 1st May 2011, Mirians witnessed their beloved ones who pledged to go bald went from hairy head to shaven clean, live in front of hundreds in Bintang Megamall in conjuction with the Sarawak Go Bald Campaign!

Go Bald is a campaign established to support Sarawak Children’s Cancer Society, to relief and care of children suffering from cancer and their families; and the advancement of research and public education in prevention, control, diagnose and treatment of childhood cancer. (Excerpted from the Go Bald website)

Since Mom would stab my toes repeatedly until I cry mercy if I dare to shave my head (Even for a good cause? WAI MOM? WAAAIIII? *Drama*, I did my part by donating to those who pledge.

In fact, I have been donating every year since it was in introduced in Sarawak few years ago.

This year, it is pretty special coz two of my friends bravely and generously answered the call of the great Elmur Fudd and stepped up on the stage to be shaven bald!





Introducing... Mr. Roy aka Kacang Soya!


Say bye-bye hair


I was hoping the lady gonna do a mohawk on him but mmmppphhhnaaah... spoil sport.


His family was there to support. That's Roy Jr. laughing at his daddy. Maybe he taught daddy was going to perform some kind of magic trick.


Daddy sure didn't disappoint. Instead of pulling a rabbit out of a hat, Daddy made his hair disappeared.  Awesome. Roy Jr. was obviously thrilled.


Hey! There's my mohawk that I screamed for the lady to make! Thank you lady-whatsyourname!


Then Roy Jr. started to realize something... There's something very, very wrong with Daddy's magic trick...






Next is our very own, Eileen aka LadyBird!


Gawd, I can't look....

She's so brave...

If it were me up there, I can guarantee you the hairdresser will have to tie me up and maybe jab me with a tranquilizer to subdue me.


Say bye-bye hair!


And she still can smile and pose beautifully! A.MA.ZING. Again, if it were me, that lady? The one holding the shaver? Yeah. That one. Remember that face coz she won't exist in this planet sooner than you can say BALD BALQIZ WOOT?! Kidding. You know I'm kidding right, lady with shaver? Right? *poke*poke* Smile pwez? Just a bit? No? Fine *ruuuuuuuun!*


A sneak peak on how Eileen look like





Good job you guys!


Copyright © Balqiz 2012 | All rights reserved | Blog Design by Krafty Palette.