Monday, December 30, 2013

25 Reasons Why You Should Never Invite A Makcik Over For Christmas Dinner

1. They don't eat ham. And you can't lie to them and say that it's turkey ham. They can smell a gram of pork, miles away, just like sharks to blood. Come to think of it, some Malay makciks ARE sharks.

2. They'll gossip about you at the table itself and you won't even realize it.

3. They will give you their recipe for a more "sedan" roasted turkey.

4. They don't drink wine. They call it "The Devil's Piss".

5. They have a different way of saying grace. And it's not going to be pretty when there is pork and alcohol on the table in front of them.

6. They probably have a nicer set of cutleries and will make no effort to conceal that fact in your face.

7. And a nicer set of table runner.

8. And curtains.

9. They will stop eating halfway to go to the toilet and make a quick phone call or Facebook status update about your terrible hosting skills.

10. For the Christmas gift exchange afterwards, someone will receive a set of second hand unused "good as new" Tupperware.

11. They'll find your Christmas background music too churchy.

12. They'll want to eat Sambal Belachan with everything, and who has time for that shit?

13. They will probably come an hour late because they have to "settle some things at home first".

14. "Eeuw! You eat slices of beef with cranberry jam?!"

15. They will scoff at your version of eggnog and ask you to try pengat instead.

16. "Chinese New Year you celebrate, Christmas also you celebrate, actually which one you really supposed to celebrate?"

17. They'll bring along their kuih makmur and pineapple tarts and hog all the limelight.

18. They have to leave by 8 cause there is a re-run of Adam and Hawa on Suria at 8:30 after the news.

19. They won't be game enough to wear Santa hats cause they're already wearing the tudung.

20. Have you ever seen a Makcik singing a Christmas Carol. Exactly. Me too.

21. They'll stand in front of your Christmas tree going, "Where did you cut down this tree?"

22. They'll bring along a friend who will invite another friend and another friend because they are "shy to come alone".

23. They'll bring their own non-christmas-y dishes. Something Hari Raya-y.

24. Have you ever seen a Malay Makcik eat mashed potatoes with a fucking fork. Yeah, me neither.

25. They'll want to come back again next year.

Like Mak Nenek

There is something incredibly off putting about parents who dress up their kids in clothes that make them look way older than they are.

Don't get me wrong. I adore kids (not really) who are dressed very cutely and appropriately. I, however, am talking about parents who dress up their kids years beyond their age, complete with garish make-up and unnecessary accessories.

See I believe that kids should look and dress their age. I am absolutely all for playing dress up and looking all cute and she but I draw the line at trying to dress up your kid in such a way that they don't look like a child at all.

I believe that parents have the final say on this issue mainly because they are the ones purchasing the clothes and dressing up their children. And if their children are the ones who request to wear make-up for example, at only six years old, it is the parents who have every right to say "NO". But sadly, some parents don't share the same sentiments.

I was at a wedding the other day with my mum when both of us saw a pair of sisters sitting across our table dressed 30 years beyond their age.

They had a princes gown on, complete with makeup (and we're talking mascara, blusher, lipstick, the whole nine yards), a handbag, a pair of dangling (!!!) earrings, a bejeweled hair band and get this: gold necklace and earrings.

They both look like a bad attempt at dressing up as a Boyanese (fun fact: Boyanese love their gold jewelry) princess during Halloween. And I'm being nice here.

My mum however is more brutal with her observations.

"Why are the two girls dressed up like a Mak Nenek? The mother stupid or what?" my mum loudly exclaimed.

"Mum I think the mother heard you," I whispered, hitting my mother's leg from under the table.

"So? Let them. I mean, children should look like children, not like their mothers!" my mum rambled on.

"You've got a point," I smiled.

The mother of the two girls started to give us wary looks, as if suddenly realizing that we are talking about her.

"They think cute is it? Oh, like trying to make their kids models lah wear this and that. But the children so ugly how to become model? And then they uglify their kids further with makeup and gaudy fashion wear!"

"Mum! Stop, that's so mean," I hushed at her.

"Oh! A Son Of A Peach is telling me that I am mean? What double standard!"

Slowly after, the mother of the two girls stood up and motioned for them to follow her.

As the two girls were walking, my mum said something that made the mother turned and glared at us.

"Oh my god the two girls are wearing heels! I thought it couldn't get any worse! Very Mak Nenek!" my mum squealed loudly.

I immediately took out my phone and pretended to test. And you think I am the bitchy one in the family.

Monday, December 16, 2013

The Art Of Gifting

Every Christmas season, you can be sure that Steve is single handedly improving the Singapore economy by going on a shopping rampage to buy gifts for literally…everyone.

The fact that he has a bank account that never seems to deplete in reserves also means that the gifts he buy would either send you into materialistic orgasm or shame at your own poverty.

Over the years I have learned to accept his gifts with a gracious "thank you" and though he never asks for it, presented him with an equally exorbitant (what's the use, really) gift in exchange.

"He bought me a Michael Kors tote! And all i said was, 'Oh my god, this would be a perfect Christmas gift', and then bam, suddenly I have a Michael Kors paper bag in my hand!" Star squealed in excitement yesterday over dinner.

She, Melanie and Steve had went Christmas shopping earlier in the afternoon and while Steve is in the gents, Star and Melanie regaled in sheer excitement over Steve's utter generosity in buying Christmas gifts.

"And he bought for me an entire set of La Mer beauty products! Like on a fucking wimp! I mean, I'm aware that he is filthy rich but he's pulling all stops this year I'm telling you!" Melanie continued, flipping her hair fabulously.

"He got for you a $500 gift voucher from Kinokuniya because he knows you love to read and collect books and something from Tom Ford, don't tell him I told you," Star winked.

"No fucking way. He bought me those shades that I've always wanted?!" I said, feeling a rising fear inside of me.

Fear because there is no way I can top his Christmas gift. And the worst part is, I don't even celebrate Christmas in the first place.

Just then Steve came out from the gents and said to me, "From your facial expression, I know for a fact that Star have told you about the gifts that I bought for you."

"I did not!" Star tried to explain.

"Your vagina is not the only thing on your body that is perpetually gaping. I told you I wanted to surprise him Star!" Steve angrily said.

"It's the season of giving. I just thought he should know the starting price cap for YOUR gift. In a normal situation, I would just give the man who buys me a branded bag a blow job, which is priceless if you ask me, but since you're gay, all the three of us are left with a splitting headache and a groaning wallet in order to top your Christmas gift," Star said.

"You know I'm not like that. It's the thought that counts," Steve chided Star.

And so yesterday, I went to get for him a cufflink from Dunhill and at the same counter, struggled with the Ah Lian salesperson.

"This one for you?" she asked earnestly.

"No, it's a Christmas gift for my best friend," I smiled.

"Wahlao! So high crass one!" she suddenly raised her voice.

High crass. Crass. CRASS.

Beats me as to how these people get to work in a luxury store int he first place.

Star texted me just now saying that she bought for Steve a Marc by Marc Jacobs sling bag and that she finds this whole Christmas gifting ritual a tedious and stressful affair.

Not when you are at the receiving end of it BITCH.

Friday, December 13, 2013

25 Of My Favourite Tweets

These past eleven months, I have been busy tweeting snarky tweets, one after the other. In short, here are 25 of my favourite tweets, so far.

P/S: Do follow me on Twitter @asonofapeach

1) "Baby, have I gained weight?"

"What am I? A fucking weighing scale?"

2) I don't understand how some Minahs wear foundation; white face, brown neck.

What is this? An art class?

3) I think it is absolutely rude to pinch your nose when you see a Bangladeshi worker. Do you see me closing my eyes when I see your face?

4) Just overheard an Ah Lian telling her friend, "Eh that Channel bag 3k leh!"

She said Channel guys. Channel.

5) If you don't like what you're doing, move on.

You're not a tree.

6) Shit happens. I mean, look at you.

7) People who post unrelated photo captions on IG should have their names changed without their consent so they understand the meaning of relevance.

8) "Love is blind"

That's what I keep telling myself when I see you and your boyfriend.

9) $50 Malay wedding. A shotgun case and a trip to the ROM by cab.

10) My gay friend is so obsessed with T.O.P. from Big Bang he said, "I would be bottom just for him!"


11) "One Way Or Another" from 1D is a perfect stalker song.

12) Eh Minah, what shine bright like a diamond? Your standard is Zhulian only girl.

13) Am I the only one who pronounce "LMAO" as "Lemau"?

14) Never piss off a Malay woman or she will set an army of pontianaks to your house.

15) People are so stupid sometimes.

16) I wore a beanie once to get that "street" look. I ended up looking like a dickhead with a loose condom flapping at the end.

17) People should stop standing at their windows in the middle of the night not doing anything at all.

18) Heroine is a movie star.

Heroin makes you see stars.


19) I don't trust boys whose eyebrows are slimmer than their girlfriends.

20) I have this inexplicable desire to smack off tiaras off little girl's heads and scream, "You're not a fucking princess!"

21) Love is not screaming when you see your girlfriend's face in the morning without makeup for the very first time.

22) Some girls are medically "mentally-deranged".

23) If you seek Amy, she is not at a Malay void deck wedding.

24) The bra cup will always protect you from the haze.

25) I am so traumatized by Miley Cyrus's performance at the VMAs. I think I got an STD just by watching it on television.


There is something incredibly obnoxious and attention-seeking about people who post unrelated, "mini-essay" captions of their photos on Instagram.

And because of this increasing phenomenon, I am going to dedicate and entire blog post to address this issue and try my level best to give as many wake up calls as I probably can to those of you who are still doing it as of today.

See, I am all for colorful descriptions. I am. And if you know me and am familiar with my work and sense of humour, you would know that I appreciate good paragraphs of carefully stringed words.

But let's not take it any further than that, can we all agree on that please?

I am not going to name names, but I have had the unfortunate luck of following Instagram accounts that are living social media examples of delusion, pretentiousness and irrelevance.

Once a girl on Instagram posted a photo of her newly bought Chuck Taylors and she captioned it, verbatim, "This is a true world we are living in. We smile on the outside but cry on the inside. And cry is all I do. But life has to go on, and even though it is cruel, I have to do it, with only tears as company. #life #qotd #reflections"

……………what the fuck man?

How is a picture of a pair of sneakers related to the treachery of the world? are the shoes in the picture representing the journey and the steps that you make in life? Is that it? Cause I definitely didn't get that from that emo paragraph.

Are you a shoe whisperer?

Do you treat fellow human beings as shoes?

Are you harboring a deep desire to work in a shoe store?

I have so many questions to ask you. And I know I will never get that opportunity to ask you all these questions so the best thing that I can possibly do is to UNFOLLOW YOUR SORRY LITTLE PRETENTIOUS ASS.

And this morning, I unfollowed 27 people on Instagram.

My rationale on social media is this: IF YOU CAN'T STAND IT, UNFOLLOW IT.

It beats than having to sit down and read all these paragraphs of unrelated, irrelevant captions and wasting about seven minutes of your life to try and think of a possible link between "picture" and "caption".

You not only feel happier but it also brings a sense of unclutteredness (if there is such a word though I highly doubt so) in your life on social media.

"Why do people write fucking essays on Instagram for their captions? All I'm seeing is paragraphs after paragraphs of words and words. This is Instagram; I'm here for the fucking pictures!" Steve ranted just now over lunch.

"Who?" was my first question.

"One of my secondary school mates! Urgh, she seems like a cool chick but after her engagement got called of, she suddenly became this men-hating, self-loathing, emo-queen, paragraph-loving mess! And her engagement got called off two years ago! I think she is mentally deranged," Steve shook his head.

"Unfollow her then. That would end all your online misery," I laughed.

"No you know what? I'm going to retaliate and keep on posting pictures on Instagram from now on with an accompanying caption in the form of a long paragraph!" Steve said, taking out his iPhone 5.

"That is childish Steve. And if you're going to do it, then I'M going to unfollow YOU," I threatened,

"Don't be an asshole," Steve sipped his coffee.

That night, he did the unthinkable. He posted a photo of his dinner, a plate of grilled steak and potatoes and captioned it:

"We are in control of our own destiny. Let no one dictate our lives but ourselves. Like sand through the hourglass, so is the days of our lives. I know you might take this as meaningless chatter but remember that we are mere mortals and at the end of the day, God is the one who call the shots. So let us always remain humble and thankful."

To which I replied, "Not long enough. Dig deeper."

That's what friends are for.