When I was a kid, we used to live next door to a Chinese family (in fact our other neighbour was chinese too and not just any other chinese but Robert Kuok’s mum’s house. Although we never got any free bags of sugar). Anyways, I don’t know much about them (the other one, not Robert Kuok’s mum), but do I remember their dog; an old German Spitz (or something to that variant) by the name of ‘Chao Hai’. I can assume that it was his name as we would constantly hear the Auntie next door yelling ‘Chao Hai’ this and ‘Chao Hai’ that, quite a lot.
The thing is with Chao Hai that it looked liked it had been dragged out of a Stephen King novel about people who interbreed with aliens. It was really, really old and its fur was coming out in tufts and I knew for a fact that it was cultivating a deadly strain of rabies which it intends to wipe out the entire Malaysian peninsular. In addition, that damn dog was a clever SOB: It knew I was deathly afraid of it and it had a mean sense of humor; its favorite pastime was attacking little boys coming home from school and making them pee in their pants.
Every day it was the same story. I would reach home around 7.15pm, step carefully off the school bus and then be forced to run the gauntlet of this suburban Hell hound. Roughly I had estimated that the distance between the drop-off point by Uncle Ah Kow, my school bus driver and my house was exactly 23.9m. At that time the Malaysian Ministry of Education was hot and heavy in making us 8 year olds study the British metric system so I knew every kilogram of the 2,390cm that led up to my house and sanctuary. And somewhere along the route, Chao Hai would be hiding under some cardboard box or behind a trash can, ready to pounce.
Other times, the owners would tie that damn dog to a large pole in front of their house, using a metal chain which probably weighed about 90 pounds (exactly 38.6kw). Chao Hai would come bursting towards me, biting and snarling like a wolf does when you snap it on the ass with a towel and the only thing that would save me from being mauled to death and becoming dog chow was the 1.45m and 90 pound chain holding the devil mutt to the metal pole.
After a year of mental anguish and trauma, I decided to take matters into my own hands and put an end to this clear violation of my personal freedom, not to mention my health. Ironically, it was on a Ramadan month and at that time , the Malaysian government has yet to list firecrackers under the Seksyen 4(2) Akta Bahan Letupan 1957 and was readily available from any kedai runcit. With the RM2.50 I obtained from the money jar my dad used to give away duit raya to the budak-budak Salamekum, I purchased a star shooter. 45cm long with blue, green, and red balls of firework wonder, and not forgetting the 1.5 second fuse.
Chao Hai used to sleep out in the compound right next to our main gate. That night, while everyone was asleep, I went out to into the garden, and using a chair peered over the garden wall into the neighbor’s compound. I carefully set the star shooter on top of the wall and aimed it inside the compound. I slowly lit the fuse and called for Chao Hai. He came running like he’d been insulted by a T-bone steak…. right into my ambush.
I had timed it pretty well, as the first burst from the star shooter whooshed with a blinding flair, straight into Chao Hai’s evil, snarling face. The second caught him by the side of the head. And by the third, the evil mutt was rolling around in confusion and anger. He was frothing in the mouth, probably thinking of how nice it would feel to disembowel me and present my innards to his master, Lucifer but at the same time he’s going crazy trying to avoid the fiery bombardment I’m directing towards him.
Suddenly, the most outstanding thing happened. By the 8th shot (a sky shooter usually holds 12 shots), Chao Hai dropped dead. His old heart couldn’t take the excitement and suddenly stopped ticking; a massive coronary failure between shots 8th and 10th. I was stunned. My enemy was finally dead by my hands.
By the last shot, I quickly turned the star shooter up into the sky and with a final puff, the last fireball arched across the heavens, like a beacon of hope and retribution for all the persecuted residents of Jln Capt Mohd Amin, hailing to one and all that the Beast was dead.
No one was the wiser to what had happened that night. My parents thought that Chao Hai had just died of old age and the chinese family probably might have suspected something fishy about the death, but it was hard to tell as Chao Hai looked like a drunk Amy Winehouse on drugs anyways.
If you happen to live in Johor Bahru in the early 80s, specifically around the Kg. Mohd Amin area, you would have probably used Jln Capt Mohd Amin.
Jln Capt Mohd Amin was a convenience for JB road users as it connected Straits View to Kg. Mohd Amin, Kolam Ayer and Nong Chik which meant that they didn’t have to go all the way up to Larkin or use the Lido road to get to where they were going. Frequent users would further be familiar of how steep the road up (or down, depending on where you were coming from) was. Being somewhat elevated, it was here that the occupants of the vehicles would be exposed to the risk of the drivers accelerating whilst going down Jln Capt Mohd Amin, as it would induce a small but satisfying euphoria of having one’s stomach transferred expediently to one’s throat.
But that is not the main reason which made Jln Capt Mohd Amin infamous. If you were a frequent user of the said road back in the 80s, then it was most probable that you would have encountered a small individual, who had become almost legendary in those parts.
He was called the Terror of Jln Capt Mohd Amin.
The Terror was named the ‘Terror’ as he had a habit of suddenly crossing the road in front of the victim’s vehicles, specifically at a certain (and only) blind spot; and subjugating the driver to the risk of cardiac arrest. This individual was said to be of small stature, befitting a child of 6 years. Witnesses who had previous encounters with the said individual had reported that it was usually clad in shorts and t-shirt and carrying various plastic instruments which could be described as in the shape of a plastic machine gun.
However, the reports would vary from witness to witness to the items the Terror was carrying. Eyewitnesses reports ranged from a large stick to a Frisbee, a Star Wars action figures (note the plural usage of the word), and once, a watering can.
Victims of had also reported that they were unable to identify the Terror or make him out clearly as for one; the Terror would cross with a blur right across their vehicle and two; once the initial shock had worn off, the victim would find the Terror to have disappeared, almost into thin air.
These strange occurrences halted in the late 80s however. No one knew why exactly why they stopped. There were no more sightings of the Terror ever again. However, his legacy still lives on till this day as every junction or crossroad there now would be either Stop signs or speed bumps which weren’t there before. A reminder of a time when drivers used the road at their own trepidation and risk.
Once upon a time, sometime during the 80s, when dinosaurs roamed the earth and Man still hunted the woolly mammoth for food, a new genre of music was born. No, this was not any ordinary genre. In the 70s, disco was all the rave, shiny orbital balls and John Travolta with his bell bottoms and massive sideburns et al. Not to be outdone, bands started to play fast and thick with highly amplified distortions, extended guitar solos, and they were very, very loud. Their lyrics did not contain the usual ‘I-Love-You’ crap but is instead filled with angst, machismo and masculine sexuality. They would also have had watched Lethal Weapon 68 times already.
And so, not to be outdone, in the late 70s, this particular style of music came to our shores as one by one, local bands started to go Hard Core.
Some were good, and some…… shouldn’t have really bothered.
And knowing us, they had to introduce a different version of the Hard Core Metal purely for marketing reasons as most people tend to favour the ‘I-Love-You’ crap songs. So, being the innovative and proactive chaps that they were, they introduced the style of the rock kapak jiwang.
Now, not everyone can play this particular genre. For one, they had to be greatly influenced by.. no, not Padi’ or ‘Boyan-on-Seven’ or whatever Jawa, oops sorry .. Boyan band playing on our radio now but by Led Zeppelin, Judas Priest or Black Sabbath.
Secondly, they must look the part.
Torn Jeans one size too small? – Check
Long, frizzy hair? – Check
Aliph sneakers? – Check.
And finally, in order to go rock kapak jiwang, they must proceed to sing a sappy, lovey-dovey love song, which is a reverse criteria from the definition of a Heavy Metal Rock band. No worries though, this is purely acceptable as they need to sell those albums somehow. An added advantage is to have either M. Nasir or JS Kevin write them.
Quoting the bootylicious Leen, “Pakai jeans ketat, rambut gerbang, muka garang tapi lagu semuaaa tangkap leleh baiii”
So without further a due, here are the Top 5, Rock Kapak Jiwang-est, bestest (sic) ever songs played by the most reknowned rock band in Malaya.
#5. Olan – Cinta Bandar Tasik Selatan
He got dumped (don’t they all) *rolls eyes* and our protagonist whines about all the loving memories they had whilst in Cheras because that was where the girl probably lived. Probably took the LRT everywhere for their dates too.
Well at least she doesn’t live in Pandan Indah.
#4. Bumiputra Rockers (BPR) – Dari Sinar Mata
Heh. Like we didn’t know that they were Malay rockers. This song is as sappy as they come. You know, the I-was-lonely-until-I-met-you-crap-now-I-am-complete. Tell you what, that director of Jerry Macguire should have used this song as background music during that ‘You Complete Me’ scene.
Renee: Stop, you had me had hello. You had me at hello.
*background music: ‘Keunggulan cinta… dari sinar mata.. yang bergeloraaaa‘.
They taught us how to spell. Seriously. Thats a bonus point there. And it was catchy. You don’t need to be a rocket scientist to understand the lyrics though. They sang about the ups and downs of being in love while competing in a spelling bee competition.
Next..
#2. Wings – Taman Rashidah Utama
This song was quite weird since I had an Aunt named Rashidah. I once asked her whether there was a housing estate or a garden named after her. She thought I was crazy.
So the song goes that our protagonist had loved and lost, like they ALWAYS do *rolls eyes* and as a remembrance of that failed relationship, he decided to build this garden. No, it wasn’tlike Taman TasiK Titiwangsa or Tasik Perdana, but a real garden to bury the remnants of his broken heart.
Wuss.
#1. Search – Fantasia Bulan Madu
This is the ultimate proclamation of love. Our protagonist proclaimed to all and sundry that he’s somehow will arrange their honeymoon up in the rainbow and though a bit confused on the colour of the cloud, he’s taking here there too. Then he whines and drones about how the heavens will testify to their live and whatnot.
Well, with Air Asia’s free seating, maybe now he can at a more budgeted price.
I am sorry about not having any of YOUR favourite song though since technically this is MY list. But please do leave a comment with a list of yours. Now, all I need to do now is to search for the MP3 version of those songs and set them as my ringtone.. just to annoy people.
Yay-yaearghhhh!
Hello.
Today, the rugged chap with the charming personality will continue your education in speaking proper English. So, he’s going to tell you a story. It’s not that different of a story from the other charming stories he has told previously, but equally important nonetheless. Perhaps, it is the most important story that you may ever hear.
Once upon a time, there exist a city situated along the Merseyside river in the north-westerly part of Jolly Olde England. This city is remarkably different from any other city in the British Isles. For one, it used to be one of the most important shipping ports in the British Empire. Secondly, it is the birthplace of many great talents; entertainment and football-wise.
Some of its favorite sons who have called this city their home include a certain Fab Four; John, Paul, Ringo and George. Not to be outdone, other notable figures in English football were born and bred from this great city; Steven, Robbie, Jamie, Michael and err.. Stevie too.
However, with other famous cities, they have had their fair share of black sheeps, which includes that granny-shagger Wayne Rooney and that cow, Kim Cattrall. It would be ironic to know that Ms. Sux in the City is probably old enough to be shagged by the Troll and depressingly enough, if he does, it would indeed be a step-up from Colleen.
Speaking of the great game though, the most IMPORTANT FACT of all, this city is home to the greatest football team in the WHOLE WORLD, Liverpool FC. We shall not even mention anything about the ‘other’ team though. They are not worth it.
Most recently, this year, the city was named the European Capital of Culture, (Yes, culture.. something that those peasants from Manchester wouldn’t know anything about) to add to the 5 TIMES! European Champions League title held by Liverpool FC.
Now, it is here in this great city, that their accent and pronunciations are wee bit different and the people talk a bit differently to0. The people who live in the city are called Liverpudlians or more lovingly termed as ‘Scousers’. It is well known though, that ‘Scouse’ is a term derived from “Lobskaus”, a sailor (of Scandinavian origins) favorite dish of stewed meat, vegetables, and ship’s biscuit. Thus, over the years, most of the people in the city were eating it and they have been called Scousers ever since.
These Scousers who live in the city of Liverpool are in general, welcoming, fun-loving, hardworking and a talented breed of people. Unfortunately, due to some stereotyping by some idiots, Scousers are made known to be crooks, scum and hub-cap stealer, which is all of course utter bollocks!
Anyways, if one day you happened to find yourselves in Liverpool, and have trouble communicating with the local populace (you might find yourself asking Jamie Carragher for directions, you never know), no worries, here are the more popular phrases which you might come across.
We do dat doe, dont we doe?
It is an affirmative to a question. Basically, a Scouser would reply with this to agree with something one of his mates said. In the Queen’s english, it would be ‘I couldn’t agree with you more’. For example;
Scouser 1: We scousers ay easy peasy go’n and always up fe a tuch.
Scouser 2: We do dat doe, don’t we doe?
La
Just put it at the end of every sentence and use it to end a remark or a sentence. Different from our own Lah, as we use ours mostly as an exclamation and a question.
We ‘uv a gaffer fewtee team, De red one o’ cose, la.
Calm down!, Calm down!
Since Scousers are a fun and easy-going bunch, they always try not to make such a big deal of anything and are constantly calming people down when the need arises.
Scouser 1: Fuck it! We ay tree nil down at alf-time to Meelann.
Scouser 2: Calm down, Calm down. Dun worry, Stevie G wul get dem bach in de second.
Oh, and not forgetting to pronounce all words ending with {ck} as {ch}, as in; back to ‘bach’, sack to ’sach’ or rack to ‘rach’. Have that phlegm at the “bach” of your throat going.
Hope this helps. So, good luck and happy Scousing.
