Monday, June 29, 2009

yeah you're right. your friends were right. i'm not worth it. i'm unreasonable and i'm queen bitch of it.
i love treating people like dogs.

yes, thats me.

Thursday, June 25, 2009


Of course I wouldn’t leave out my mama. She is also the bestest person on earth, albeit controlling, naggy and slightly neurotic. There are high chances that I’ll turn into her when I get older as strong evidences now show how I’m slowly evolving into my mama. I may not be as sexy or as pretty as she was but the characteristic traits definitely show.

My mama has tried to have me for 8 years but it never worked. Finally at last when she was hitting 40 I popped out of her va-j-j. my maternal grandma actually told her she was lucky to have me. Her exact words were ‘ho chai’ (which funnily sounds like my bosses name).

When I was 5, she forced fed me with books when I don’t even know how to read. I had to figure out on my own how each word came about. Then she would proudly parade me to everyone and said that I learnt reading on my own! It was no ordinary feat. Reading without any guidance was a terrible experience.

Anyway, when I was growing up and going to school at 5am in the morning, my mama would wake up religiously everyday clad in her crumpled nighties and a granny cardigan and kiss me every day without fail and sent me up the bus!

When I had to go for tuition in Singapore, she would drive me in a then wait for me to finish my tuition then buy packed chicken rice and sugar cane water for me to eat while we wait out the jam and I would fall asleep after that and she would drive me back home.

Mama will always pay me 5cents per strand of white hair I pulled out when I was growing up. I used to be such a rich kid in school.

She would always let me buy the story books I want without complaining (of course that was only limited to school book fares when prices were cheap and reasonable for us students to afford!).

When I was in secondary school, she would always pick me up after school and bring me for sushi king or marrybrown, or lavender. Anything that is good that I would eat, then I would take a nap, then she would send me for tuition.

Mama would tuck me in bed every night. Usually she would fall asleep faster than me and snore so loud that I’d have to poke her in her ribs to wake her up.

Mama would bring me shopping every time and get me pretty clothes so I’d look good. No matter how expensive it was, if she could afford it she would definitely buy them for me.

Whatever I wanted, mama would always give me if she could afford it. Just like now, she’s paid for my anti-cervical cancer jabs even though there’s several speculations on how it wont work on me. Hhahaha.

Mama would pain stakingly pay a couple grand just for me to go for my facials (I have bad case of acne) and she would spend lots and lots of money on weight loss regime (that would fail miserably all the time, because it was never meant to be). She is still of high hopes that I will attain supermodel figure and marry a rich husband one day.

When I was overseas mama would either sms or msn me everyday. She couldn’t live a day without me. And during Chinese New Year, she would pack cookies, food stuff, red packets, New Year clothes for me so at least I can feel a bit festive there. The postage price was a bitch. But she paid it anyway.

She was the only one that would condone my million shoe shopping spree , million bags, jewelry and what not. Because she is me, I am her. We are both alike and understand the need for unnecessary things in life.

She would be the one who would slog her ass off on Chinese new year eve, Chinese new year day all on her own so we could have 12 dishes on our tables to eat and throw up later due to over eating.

As I got older, slight coughs would worry her especially during this H1N1 season. I would have excuses to sleep when I am tired and fluey.

There was once I fell down a flight of steps in front of her. She just sat down and cried and cried and cried. I was of course fine and bounced back up like a ball. But to her it was too much to take seeing her daughter fall at such a great height at such an old age. Now, she holds my hand while walking down the stairs instead of me holding hers. What an embarrassment!

I have this bad habit of leaving my dirty clothes on the floor and jumping into the bathroom and never picking them up – ever. My mama would ALWAYS pick them up and take them out and put them in the laundry basket. She would however complain whenever my S-I-L do it. AHHHHHHHHH. Such privileges of being her daughter!

She would also let me have the first mouth of whatever herbal soup she was brewing and made sure I had more portion than anyone else in the family! Of course, my health is weaker these days. I am definitely be entitled to more health supplements!

The arrival of my periods will always be such a relief for her. She’s so worried that I’m either pregnant (she knows what I’m capable of) or either that a much worse situation that I am screwed in my uterus. But stress is the main factor why my menses is being a bitch, and me being a bigger one when they come.

There are so many more things that mama has done out of love for me that I take for granted. Of course the true fact is that she loves Keith more than me. She outrightly denies it ALL the time. BUT it is true. Everyone who has eyes can see it, and even the deaf can hear how much she loves him. There is no such thing as equal love among children. But of course she’ll love all her children. But not all equally! But at least I know I rank no.2???? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Mama has influenced me on loving the colour green and of the finer things in life like, table runners, porcelain plates, dessert dishes, ike bana, flower arrangement and expensive things to waste money on to make your house look slightly prettier.

For that she has created a standard of living higher than the rest for me. She does not hand these to me in a financial form. Its more of a skill and habit lifestyle passed on to me.

Hah, everyone knows my mama loves me a lot. She has done so many things for me that I have taken for granted. But I hope she knows that I do loveeeeeeeeeeeee her even though I’m such a pain in the ass to take care of most of the time!


Hah, everyone knows that I’m papa’s pet, me being the youngest daughter after 8 years of dealing with annoying, pesky sons. Of course I’m an angel! The added bonus is that my first word was ‘PAPA’ instead of ‘MAMA’. So that brought me up a few notches to the first position!

My papa is 60 this year, and he is still as handsome and charming as ever. Both my parents are really the best looking people in their era, but I wonder why their kids turn out to be !@#)(!)(2)#$(@%(!)@(#!)(????????? That is really puzzling.

He would be the one who would ask me to eat more when he brought me out for meals so I wouldn’t have to suffer so much when mama would starve me when I got back home. That happened many eons ago of course. When I was much much skinnier than my predicament now.

He would outrightly tell my whole family (or anyone for that matter) to fuck right off if they said or did something that made me upset. Then when he sees me crying he would hug me and then I *secretly* think that he would be crying inside too.

When I was born I was so precious to him that he never let anyone touched me in fear that they hurt me. He would also visit me every day during lunch time at the baby sitters place to make sure that I was alright!

He has never laid a hand on me (which would explain why I’m so spoilt now), only once, he smacked my feet when I still put my feet in the mud when clearly 3 seconds ago he told me not to. He was squatting next to me when I blatantly ignored his rules and dipped my feet in mud (there were always mysterious foot prints around the house in mud when my house was under construction long long ago).

When I was younger he would bring me to Starbucks (when he was richer and less stingy) and he would order an Americano and chocolate cake while I would order my raspberry mocha frappuchino and cheesecake. Then we’d compete and see who finished it first. After that, we would walked the malls and when we got hungry, he’d bring me for KFC and order me a big fat zinger burger meal! Yum.

Papa would also bring me to watch cartoon movies (alone without my bros or mama of course) such as Mulan, Finding Nemo, etc etc. Then we’d share a large coke and he would TEACH me and purposely pull the straw and push it in the cover to make that annoying ‘eek eek’ sound, or slurp REALLY loudly when there wasn’t any drink left. HAH!

This man would shove cabbage and maggi mee down my throat when mama and bros were away for holiday and there was no one to cook for us. He would insist that cabbage was good for health and cook like half a cabbage and not put any other ingredients in it. YUM.

When I was very young (and appropriate) he would hug me to sleep SO TIGHTLY that I thought that I was going to choke to death. Yes. Hugs of death were invented by him!

He would also bring me shopping for clothes and dress me in the LONGEST adult maxi dresses (when I was only 10!) so that I don’t expose too much skin. WTF. He was the inventor of the popularity of maxi dresses! Hahaha!

We had a phase were we would just go down to pet shops and buy guinea pigs one after another. Then he would patiently build the cage and house them. Then we would sit and watch the guinea pigs squeal for us. We bought like 20 guinea pigs! The obsession was so great that when they died one by one due to some disease outbreak, we were so heartbroken that we never bought anymore guinea pigs.

He also bought me other weird and expensive pets to keep. This was where my interest in animals peaked. We kept bunnies, Madagascar tortoises etc etc.

He would bring me to the deserted beach, then we would divide and conquer. He would pick pebbles and nice stones while I would sit in one corner and collect shells! Then he would teach me all about the shells and the sealife and got me obsessed with shells as well!

As I gradually grew older, papa would teach me to find men who weren’t muscular or pumped up in the gym. That is cos their wee-wees would be so tiny and I wouldn’t enjoy the bedroom activities! AH! That is perhaps where I got my pervertness from. Of course papa had the best interests at heart that I wouldn’t be so DEVASTATED that my man’s package was minute.

He would also teach me to find men that weren’t loaded, or flamboyant. Because that wouldn’t bring you anywhere in life. Yes he may have money. But he may have other women outside too. And daddy knows best about men. He always told me to look for someone who had a decent hobby, such a fishing, gardening (or someone just like him!) that is how I set a benchmark for all the guys I looked for. Someone who really loved you for you (ie your fatness).

Speaking of that, I used to get criticized and insulted by relatives while growing up fat. My dad would stick up for me and say, ‘yes, so what? I like my daughter this way, better than thin and scrawny and nothing to touch (for other men, not him) at all’. Then the people who stepped on his tail had to quietly withdraw their comments.

He used to argue with my mama that despite being this size, that THERE would be people to love me truly, and he was right. My mama would be so angry because at this size, no one rich would want me (that’s a whole other story). But papa was adamant that she should shove a pineapple up the place where the sun doesn’t shine.

My papa would always support (or either be ignorant) of the things I do. Besides not having a vision in life and using his credit card, he very seldom picked on me for anything. I would always be the one who had something to say back to him when I wanted to rebut. No one else in the family dares to do it.

There was once when we were younger my brother scolded me or something (I really can’t remember), then he told him that there would only be one tiger in one mountain ie. Only I get to scold your sister. HAH. I am having this self revelation that my over-pamperedness came from my papa!

Now that my parents have a fridge in their room (for their own selfish personal purposes, like hiding goodies so no one else in the house can touch them), he would always knock on my door in the middle of the night to ask me to go over and have grapes, chocolate, other sort of fruits and what not. Then we would sit and eat while watching tv or looking at something at the computer.

Oh yes speaking about computers, he is the one that would always supply me my electronics. My first camera (it was a shit camera and we both knew it but he bought it anyway because I thought it was COOL) and my several laptops that I’ve destroyed. Now he’s got me the best G7 canon camera on earth!

When papa saw that I had lack of interest in the field of law, he encouraged me to take up HR, which I am quite good in. however, due to lack of financial resources, I have to wait for a windfall for that to happen. My mama was thoroughly against the idea of me straying away from the legal line. He again, told her to shove a pineapple up where it doesn’t shine.

Although my papa may be stubborn and bad tempered (as I am) he always gives in when I talk to him nicely (or write a really thought provoking and guilt tripping letter).

I am proud to say that, even though my papa isn’t as loaded as other people’s dad is, he is a certified good man. Even though he lack some moral values, he tries very hard to instill them in his children for fear that they will become like him. He may be stingy, but never towards me (ok, that’s not fair). My papa is my hero. There is no one who is as all-knowing as he is. Anyone who I am going to marry has to match up to at least a few of his good values or he has to hit the road! He would always support the guy I’m going out with (even though he’s not afraid to use his shot gun ) as he accepts how much I like them! (or maybe he knows he would eventually have to get rid of them – which in turns explains why my ex’s always go missing after some time!).

Hah, I love my papa so much! And I speak for all the daddy’s little girls that they are they bestestestestestestestest man on earth!


Just a little update to show that I'm still alive.

It's end of the month soon and I can't wait to get paid!


Hopefully days of cupnoodles and dust bunnies will be over soon!


Saturday, June 20, 2009

The grumps.

If it's something I've inherited from Daddy, besides his really short stumpy legs,
it would have to be his grumpiness.

My goodness. I am the grumpiest person whenever you wake me up when you're not supposed to, when I'm overly hungry, or when I don't know how to do my work.


This is not good at all!!!


Colour Accent Canon G7

I have just discovered the Colour accent function on my Canon G7. And I'm loving it. So enjoy my latest interest!!!

Ah, thank you Daddy for giving me that camera!



Queen of durians!

I had a fun filled weekend having durians.

Mmm.. King of fruits.. my favourite!

Speaking of durians, I have a story to share with everyone of why I'm related to this fruit. This relation is neither scientific or theorized.

Here goes.


Long, long ago, far, far away, in an Island called Penang, there lived a middle aged couple with 2 sons. Their sons were nearly teenagers then. They still felt something amiss in their lives, even though they lived in a big house, had stable careers, big cars and 2 sons.

(of course at this point you get where this story is going)

Why yes, they were missing a daughter.

So this couple tried and tried for several years to get pregnant. You can of course see that they have failed miserably or there wouldn't be a chance to tell a story like this.

After about 8 years of failure, they finally got pregnant.
The parents were finally relieved that they were going to have another child. However, the doctor refused to tell them the sex of the child during the normal routine check ups.

The daddy some how, within his own gut instincts, started writing girly names over flower pots, cupboards and anywhere he can get his permanent marker ink on. He was so sure he was getting a girl, however, it could only be proved when the child was born.

Mummy of course started buying pink baby clothes.

They never realised how much money they would waste if the child actually turned out to be a boy. Or how many flower pots and cupboards they needed to throw out because permanent marker ink could not be erased.

Thank goodness, the baby was a girl (DUHHHHHHHHHHHH).

The parents were overjoyed, the brothers, less, but nevertheless happy as there was someone else they could torture and also take the blame for when something is broken.

The daddy treasured the baby girl like GOLD.

He would carry her around with his arms flat out as if he was carrying, well, a very very precious baby.

No one was allowed to touch or carry this baby because he was afraid that people would accidently hurt her.

Or dirty her with their dirt filled fingers.

Because Daddy's family owned a petrol station, he would never let anyone of them carry her. She was too precious to him.

Daddy's mother made a comment that the baby was like a durian, hard to come by, too prickly to touch, King of all fruits, and so good to eat.

Hence the name 'Liu Lian' stuck on.

So here I am,
as obnoxious as ever,
because Daddy spoils me too much.


Have a happy durian season!!!!!!

Small paws, big dreams

Hell yeah!

Everyone looked down on my fat stubby fingers and swore that I would never complete Grade 8 piano.

But guess what?

I'm a piano genius.





I came home to my lovely bed (like I do every weekend now) and I conked out for like, 14-15 hours. I was so tired. I only woke up at 4+pm today.

The best part of it is I don't have Malay tuition tonight.


Today is looking to be promising!

WEEE! :)

Friday, June 19, 2009


This is just an update on my earlier Mastiff post.

How adorable are they?

Look how happy the kid is!

Indeed it will scare away the boyfriends!


Thursday, June 18, 2009

so my irregular menses has finally dawned on me. yesterday was like world war 3. i was the snappiest and grumpiest person in the office. my bad mood could be smelt from a zillion miles away. i am seriously not to be messed with. ARgh. now i have backaches and suffering from anemia. KILL ME.
Dear Joanna,
You’ve passed 2 days 23dom. How are you coping? You’re no longer young anymore. You’re on your way of becoming a salted vegetable as according to your Dad. He reckons that you should be married by 25. But at this rate you’re going, you’ll probably marry by 32. And have NO kids. And you’ll end up in the old folks home old and lonely. Or worse, die in your own house and have your face eaten by your 12 cats.
Your mum reckons you should lose a shit load of weight as well. Because she thinks this is the main problem as to why you’re not gonna marry at 24 to a rich, handsome, well educated man with compassion, generosity and a splendid sense of humour along with impeccable fashion taste and a also with good family background. I know you think she’s gone bonkers. Because she really has. I know that you know she knows that you won’t marry someone like this. Instead you’ll marry someone who makes you feel safe and feed you fried chicken every now and then. Someone who’ll take care of the finances of the family. And that you’ll only have ONE kid. No more. Anymore you’ll go for abortions. Because you know that it is too expensive to take care of more than a kid. And GOD knows that you won’t marry a rich man. However, she may be right. The reason why you won’t marry Mr. Perfect is because you’re in this state of lard. The fatty stage that’ll never ever go away and will haunt you for the rest of your life. But you know that you don’t give a shit. And the man you’ll marry will have to love your fats, by hook or by crook, or he can hit the highway. And go fly a kite. You have firmly instilled in yourself the false sense of internal beauty, which vaguely exists in this society. But yet with your ignorance and mild courage, you have decided to go along with it and see where fate leads you. That is your destiny. You believe that men who love you because you’re beautiful will only love you for that. If you lose it one day (and you definitely will), they will get itchy and find someone else. You know that men who go for beauty are all assholes who don’t deserve your amazing love. You also know that men who are handsome can never be trusted. You’ve been burnt before, haven’t you?
But no worry, God has a plan for you. And if you also believe in Karma, you will keep doing good things for people and only hope the best for them. There is no point creating rumours and ruining people’s life. They don’t need you to break what’s already half broken. They can do it themselves.
You should also stop torturing yourself, Jo. It is never your fault. You can’t help what you can’t help. Not everything is under your control. Not everything has to be done according to your list. Nothing is planned and nothing is in order. This is the line of life. It has many surprises. You can’t blame yourself for every little thing that goes wrong. You also cannot expect anything from anyone. If they failed to do it, you’d beat yourself up because of it. That is wrong. You should give yourself a break. You have been working too hard. Your life is shorter than expected. Don’t waste it over worrying silly matters. Have more fun. Stop worrying what you can’t see. Stop putting yourself in people’s shoes and feeling hurt as well. Because no one cares about how you feel, why should you do the same? You’re not a Saint. You’re definitely going to hell for all the sins you’ve committed.
You should stop eating cup noodles every day. Yes you’re earning peanuts, but that doesn’t mean you should eat crap. I know you want to save money so you can bring your parents for good food, or spend it all in Bugis, but those few dollars doesn’t mean anything to you does it. Stop torturing yourself and being so stingy to yourself while giving everything to people you love. Do you know if they even appreciate you at all? What if they don’t? You don’t really care if they don’t, do you?
You’re a good person, Jo. Don’t let other people tell you otherwise. Promise yourself now that you’re 23, and older, you’re (none the) wiser. You’ll continue to do good things. You’ll always try to put people first and care about everyone around you. Who cares if you marry a rich person or not. What matters is that he actually cares enough to want to build a future with you. And remember, have ONLY 1 kid. No more. Don’t torture yourself working like a dog just to provide a future for your own stupid creation. Practice safe reproduction. Get yourself spayed and him neutered.
If you’re unhappy with the person, Jo, don’t keep it inside. You’ll only hurt yourself. You should tell the person to go fuck himself and jump up his mother’s ass. And stay there. Tell that person that you don’t give a shit. And point him the middle finger and walk away. If he/she tries to be funny, knee them. Don’t let them bully you and push you over.
The main point of this gentle reminder is to tell you to stress less. This stress is happening because you’re worrying over things that are out of your control. You cannot control everything. Everything is destined. Every step is calculated.
Love yourself, Jo. Give yourself a break. Don’t work so hard anymore. You’re nearing a breakdown. You’re borderline depression. I can feel it already. You’re sending me all the bad vibes. Take a break. Have a rest. Go get laid.
I’ll love you always,
Your subconscious-self.

Chinese construction workers

There are some things that I’ve noticed about china construction workers that work in Singapore during my short stay here. I find it most compelling to spread the word to the world on my observations about these china men.

1) They have no sense of oral hygiene.

They are practically dirtier than my door mat. They also have the worst case of gingivitis. When they speak they actually kill me. They’re pay isn’t that low, I’m sure they can spend a few bucks on Listerine. But no, they always decide to save that money and visit Geylang then contract some funky disease which makes them deaf or have their penises drop off then they come find us and try to sue their employers for industrial accidents. WTF?

2) They don’t know any housekeeping tips.

They also don’t realize that they shouldn’t keep their clothes in a confined space when it isn’t dry.

This causes their clothes to reek of the disgusting SMELL that I’m not even going to go into. They are just so freaking smelly. I mean, ok, you can’t afford really nice smelling detergents, but at least your clothes wont stink when you completely air them out to dry! WTF man.

3) They are not a fan of showers.

Their freaking BOs are just too much to take. I mean a little sweat on a man is bearable. But this is just OTT. Wtf man. I feel like gagging every time they come and speak. They’ve never met showers, no? Or is it that China doesn’t approve of showering? I really don’t understand? It’s like they haven showered for a week and decide to surprise us and overpower us with their manly scent. PFT.

4) We ask for news, they give us the weather.

When they speak, they like to shower us with spittle of saliva. That is the grossest you can ever get. I practically sanitise and sterilize everything and every place they touch when they come to my desk. Some of their spittle range from the size of a full stop to a full blown mole on a person’s face. They best part is that they don’t realize that.

5) They have the worst fashion sense – EVER.

They tend to pair high school socks with loafers and ¾ pants with polo shirts. And some fake shit Emporio Armani sunglasses. With their crew cuts. Who the fuck wears socks with loafers? And with ¾ pants? And still has crew cuts? (maybe my brother still does ok, at least he’s is decent).

6) They seem to speak like amplifiers.

They are LOUD. One word. LOUD. They are so loud, its embarrassing. They are like a gaggle of geese together. Or a flock of chickens. Or gang of banshees. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like they are trying to outdo each other by speaking louder than one another. Especially on the telephone. They are practically screaming into it! We’re not using paper cups and strings for communication like the olden times you know? Moderate tones are acceptable, thank you very much.

7) They don’t ever listen.

They ask you one question over and over again for like 5 times, hoping for a different answer. Or either that, they don’t register it in their thick skulls when we tell them important things. We tell them to read. Then after reading, they can still ask us the same questions which are answered in the reading material. Wtf man? Does China not teach comprehensive studies? WTF!@#!)@(!)!(@)!(@)$!((!!@!@$*@#(%*@(^*

And they love coming here several times asking you the same questions. Sometimes they pounce on different people to ask the same questions. They’re just wasting our time. When we tell them something, they don’t believe us. Why the fuck are you seeking our help when you don’t even believe what we say? WTF man.

When we tell them to listen to us while we speak and give advice, they don’t. It’s like they’re trying to do all the talking. How the hell are we going to help you when you don’t give us a chance to speak?

8) They love hanging around

- by squatting (in little groups). In little corners of the place. Or outside your door. THIS IS NOT CHINA. IF YOU WANNA SQUAT YOU CAN GO BACK TO YOUR ROOMS/HOMES/COUNTRY AND SQUAT ALL YOU WANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Squatting is not at all pleasing to the eyes. It’s not at all civilized to be squatting around. Neither is sitting cross legged outside our doors. There are chairs. Please use them.

9) They think we’re Gods.

And that we can do anything and everything. Truth is, we can only do the law bit. The rest is your call. We can’t do everything for you. We’re not your mum OK!

10) They have very little common sense.

Except when applying it to their jobs. That, they know a lot of things. But common sense of life, simple things like never believe what people tell you, they fail big time. They are practically big kids that believe everyone. That’s why they get tricked. ARGH. And I doubt educations got anything to do with common sense. Man, I’ve studied so much, I still have NO sense at all.

Am I just being mean? I’m a terrible person aren’t I? But these construction workers really give me bad migraines with the BO. Really man. WTF.