MURDER-CAR!

The nation is 49 years old.

I’m just regretful that with every 31st August that comes by, I still can’t seem to genuinely grasp the significance of the country’s independence.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m no less patriotic than the flag-waving guy who runs around in Stadium Negara during badminton matches involving our team.

I would not hesitate to fight for my country.

I would not think twice to die for it.

I would be the first to self-draft if ever war breaks out with any of the neighbouring countries. The army may not need an old geezer like me but I’ll have them and everyone else know - I do not need a reason to kick a Singaporean/Thai/Indonesian/Filipino’s arse.

I am very proud of my country but even so can’t bring myself to affix a flag onto my car. Much as I am partial to watching how the flag flutters when a car zips through the road, I just can’t see the Jalur Gemilang as my car accessory. Not yet.

My indifference towards the spirit of independence may be discomforting to some, but I presume it is understandable for those who did not experience the struggle.

I know that the historic event signalled the end of British colonial rule.

I know that it was the coming into being of an independent, sovereign and democratic Federation of Malaya.

Emblemic images of Tunku’s raised hand with shouts of “Murder-Car! Murder-Car! Murder-Car!” marking the great occasion, are my only momentous reminder of the birth of a new nation.

I pray that by this time next year, I can finally say that in addition to my immense sense of pride and allegiance to the country, I would also be able to sincerely embody the essence of self-government, befitting of Malaysia’s 50th birthday.

JEKYLL

DA ROO RON RON RON DA ROO RON RON (C'mon...altogether now)

Roo and Ron kissed and made-up!

What a sight this was.

I'm sure Ms Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou would get wet looking at this pic.

JEKYLL

RENJIS RENJIS DIPILIS

I’m officially an old man now. A grumpy one at that. My niece is getting married next Sunday. If everything goes as planned, I will be a granduncle next June. Great. Just great.

I don’t trust my future nephew-in-law. He has a unibrow. I never trust anyone with a unibrow. Neither do I trust anyone with more rings on a single hand than the Olympic rings, in this case a.k.a. Mr Unibrow’s father. I bet he sets the airport alarm buzzing whenever he attempts to board a plane.

What’s so difficult about tackling the unibrow problem? Haven’t they heard of waxing, threading or even plain shaving? Within seconds, the mess on the forehead will disappear.

This wedding sha-bang is just such a laborious process. It’s fine and dandy when you attend the function - pretend you like the food, shake hands with people whose names you couldn’t remember and check out the size of other guests’ gifts. But when you’re on the other side of the pelamin, it’s a different story altogether.

I just can’t wait for this whole episode to be over. It began several months ago with the engagement. Then came the solemnisation ceremony (nikah) on Friday night and by this time next Sunday it’ll all be over.

We can then all go back to our daily routines. No more colour coordination discussions. No more tray counting. No more egg flowers preparation (bunga telor lah). And then, back to blogging...

JEKYLL

WTF (WHAT THE FAG) ?

Oh dear, Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou - better known as plain old George Michael a.k.a. The Bubble with the Stubble - has done it again!

The media caught him with his knickers down once more. Miss Michael "sank to new levels of depravity – trawling for illegal gay sex thrills in a London park," reported News of the World.

The obvious question would probably be how somebody as rich and famous as George could possibly pick up a "jobless 58-year-old" who lives in a "squalid flat" for a brazen al fresco tryst.

I for one, would have thought pot-bellied jobless van drivers would have more taste - maybe it was too dark to see who he was.

I dunno, but I think it's a somewhat self-destructive lifestyle to go meeting up for anonymous sex in public on hot London nights. But George is being applauded by the gay community for claiming that he can go around having sex with unknown "mingers" in bushes because it's his "culture".

Am I the only person who finds this odious?

"He's just sold out a 50-night comeback tour in 30 minutes -- but George still needs sick thrill," The News of the World screams.

Photographers captured the singer in some bushes having a romp with the old dude. They snapped away as Michael scurried from behind the bushes, while shouting, "I don't believe it! Fuck off! If you put those pictures in the paper I'll sue! Are you gay? No? Then fuck off! This is my culture!"

Miss Michael, while trolling for some arse in notorious Hampstead Heath, picked up Norman Kirtland, a 58 year old jobless man.

Kirtland said after the incident: "I don't even like George Michael. And I didn't recognize him immediately. He sort of came up and got close. He looked kind of brown so I said to him, ‘You're not totally English, are you?' He kissed very well. That was one of his major points. Then it was fondling and mutual pleasuring. It wasn't full sex but it was fantastic."

Kirtland's confession then took a bizarre twist as he bragged: "There's a secret that I have which no one knows about. It's a personal thing. Most people pull away from it. But George actually seemed to respond.”

Ewwww…

I’ve got nothing against gayboys. I came from a school where same-sex experimentation was prevalent and tolerable. But if I were a homosexual, I wouldn’t want Georgios to be my poster-boy.

The fact that he “outed” relatively late in his life is a major mystery. Everyone kinda suspected it before. The hairstyle. The dance (remember “Wake me up before you go go”). The shorts. The jacket. The lyrics.

Yeah, THE LYRICS. Laden with clues that when deciphered, obviously with the benefit of hindsight, I could swear I could see the huge spotlight shine over me!

I mean, from, FREEDOM, we have “I just hope you understand, sometimes the clothes do not make the man”. And “I know not everybody has got a body like you”. This was so prophetic.

Considering the man's age, this from FATHER FIGURE, is just spot-on:

"I will be your father figure. Put your tiny hand in mine. I will be your preacher teacher. Anything you have in mind. I will be your father figure. I have had enough of crime. I will be the one who loves you. Until the end of time"

HYDE