In keeping with the #oneentryaday schtick around here, thought I’d dash off a post amidst the whirlwind of my activity today! 🙂

Spoke to the Mak Tiri today (let’s call her Auntie T) re: inviting my maternal uncles for Eid.  She was all for it. She told me Dad had told her “of course they can come, what is wrong?”


Auntie T knows that Dad had called Uncle B (Allahyarhamha Mummy’s youngest bro) and I have already told her what Dad said to Uncle B, about “tak ada Raya” this year because no one will be at SS. We both speku that Dad is just saying “of course they can come”, thinking that he had (secretly) already taken care of the matter by telling Uncle B that no one will be at SS, therefore there will be no Raya. We speculate that on the day itself, when Uncle B doesn’t turn up, Dad will just say, “Biarlah… dah dia tak datang apa kita nak buat?” or something along those lines.

Wot Dad doesn’t know is… I already know of wot he did, after being informed by my cousin J (Uncle B’s daughter) when we exchanged Whatsapp messages re: meeting up  over Eid yesterday.

The plot thickens.



Dad’s ‘intelligence’ tactics are so ol’ skool.  He may have been Malaysia’s answer to ‘M’ back in the day… but with all due respect, Dad… your methods are too… passé.  I think I can give Dame Judi a run for her money when it comes to playing ‘M’. Intrigue and wily manipulations are soooo my cup of char 😎

So Auntie T and I have decided to play it differently. Auntie T will tell Dad that I had gone ahead and invited Uncle B and fam for the first day of Eid at SS, (kononnya) not knowing Dad had played the Raya Grinch and told Uncle B that it’s “off”. I cannot uninvite Uncle B, so Dad will just have to suck it up and endure.

So there.

In other ‘news’, Auntie T told me that she had to call Mum’s helper, the one who is now back in JaTim on a 2-month holiday, to ask her some things regarding a few documents she needs for Dad. (The helper was the one who helped Allahyarhamha Mummy manage all the paperwork in SS during the last few months of Mum’s life.)

Auntie T used Dad’s phone to call the helper… and when the call was answered, Auntie T heard:

“Assalamualaikum, Abang…”


Auntie T then replied:

“[helper’s name], ini Tengku… bukan Tan Sri..”

At which point the helper quickly hung up/ ended the call.

HAAAAAaaaaaaaa…… apakepoons is going on here???!!


No Rest For The Wicked

Well.. well… Isn’t it shaping up to be #oneentryaday, lately?

Allahyarhamha Mum used to love this phrase, “no rest for the wicked” and she usually said it referring to me coz she loved to tease that I am ‘wicked’… which I AM, so I am totally not going to refute it *wry laugh*

I have a gajillion and one things to do in preparation for Eid. I have been assigned to cook the rendang tok by the Mak Tiri. I will also be making lamb and chicken biryani for the so-called ‘open house’ on the first day of Eid. I have sent messages to all and sundry that it will only be between post-Eid prayers and Maghrib.  Saper2 yang lambat tu sila bergerak ke rumah seterusnya coz ain’t nobadeh going to be at Seri Semantan (yes, that’s what the house my brothers and I grew up in is named :P) after Maghrib.

I know Dad will want me to uphold Allahyarhamha Mummy’s Eid traditions… so now I am faced with baking Raya cookies too, the ones she would usually make herself annually without fail~ her famous raisin cornflake cookies, biskut Arab and kuih bawang (aka kuih gunting – the most LECEH of the lot to  make! 😫) Akak dah lama tak buat kuih Raya ni chuols… Pengsan laaaaaa…

Then there’s this whole drama re: Allahyarhamha Mummy’s family coming over to celebrate Eid with us.  I had assumed that Dad wouldn’t stoop so low as to tell my maternal uncles that they cannot come for Raya but he did. just. that.


He just told them “there will be no one at Seri Semantan” so there’s “no Raya” this year.


Does Dad realise how foolish and silly that sounds? Surely Mum’s brothers will be thinking, isn’t In or Zane celebrating Eid even though there’s “no one” at SS? Dad’s issue of being “too embarrassed”/ not being able to face Allahyarhamha Mummy’s brothers with his new wife has created so many problems since Mummy returned to Rahmatullah.

They KNOW of his second wife and they are OK with it (IMHO, they are entitled to feel whatever they want about this) but Dad is the one who cannot face them. I am thinking how much longer does this have to go on? When I wanted to invite them for makan2 after the numerous tahlil-s we had for Allahyarhamhuma Mum and Brix**, Dad would always answer,

“Alah… diaorang bukan Islam pun…”

What??! So? That was never an issue when Allahyarhamha Mum was still around… How narrow Dad’s view is.

Makes me terribly sad… what would Mummy feel if she were still around and sees Dad doing this to her family?

My maternal relatives will always be family to me, I cherish and treasure the relationship… and I am not about to sever any of the ties I have with my maternal uncles. In all honesty, I prefer my maternal uncles to Dad’s side of the family ~ opportunistic vultures each and one of them with the exception of a very select few +___+

That Melayu tamak harta shite you see in those slot Samarinda/Akasia/Dahlia/wothaveyou dramas actually happen IRL, I assure you… well at least in Dad’s family it does! *rolls eyes sampai nak tercabut*

I have to be off to calculate my zakat pulak ni. The state of ennui that has plagued me since the past month made me put it off till today. Ramadhan will be over before I know it and I haven’t calculated my 2.5% yet.. استغفر الله العظيم

No rest for the wicked! 😛

** I have never mentioned nor written about my brother Brix’s return to Rahmatullah… because it is something horrendously painful for me. Just thinking about it feels like a red-hot knife stabbing my heart and twisting and twisting and macerating what little is left of its broken pieces. I will write about it…some day.


Moe the Iraqi Leech is back in town. He finally obtained his Canadian citizenship and is now back in Malaysia “looking for a job”. Good luck with that la bai. He contacted me almost as soon as his plane landed! Started going on as if the past 8 years did not happen and that I will just fall back into his arms and start bankrolling him AND HIS ANNOYING FAMILY like I stupidly did before. Apakepundek? I was a lonely, vulnerable divorcée when I met him and felt I needed to buy love to get it. Even though I could have gotten it without doing so… from others. I don’t understand myself sometimes… *facepalm* BODOH!!

I told him like it is… “what did you expect?” I actually toyed with the thought of leading him on like he led me on… just for the schadenfreude of it all… for sweet revenge… but I dunno, since 2010 I am not the biatch I used to be. I might still do it… but I have stopped entertaining his messages and have made it clear in no uncertain terms that things. are. different. now.  I have remarried and there is no way I am going to be so “kind” as to bankroll his life anymore.

His Mum is now suffering from kidney failure. My heart goes out to her… and the family.. but enough is enough lah makcik.

Makcik, I remember the time you would use me and suck me dry. We would go for a stroll through a shopping mall and you would hit me up for ribu-raban winter coats, Guerlain cosmetics and the such. When I took off the citrine ring given by my mother to wash dishes at your place, without a thought nor care for my feelings… you took the ring and put it on your finger… wanting to claim it as your own. Coz by that time you had already gotten everything so easily from me that you felt whatever you wanted you surely MUST get.

And then what happened? You couldn’t take the ring off.

Your finger started swelling and you started crying and stamping your feet like a petulant 4-year old in pain. I secretly wanted to laugh at you, watching your son desperately try to get the ring off your finger.  If I were royalty sure ada orang dah kata terpalit ‘daulat’. LOLOL

The ring managed to come off and you gave me such a dirty look after that as if it was MY fault you couldn’t fit the ring. Yalah, badan aku aje gemuk… tapi jari-jemari aku kecik la… ikut mak aku. Padan muka kau!

I also remember the time when some friends of your son MoePantat invited him and all of you for a Raya do. All you did at the do was criticise EVERYTHING about the hosts house, the food, their family… you think I didn’t understand what you said? I felt bad for the hosts.  They were kind enough to invite you into their humble home and you acted as if you were the Queen of Frikkin Sheba. Hel-lo… your son’s apartment in Pantat Dalam ain’t all that either… so go cermin yourself first.

What about the time I brought you Philistines for a show at the MPO? You made loud disparaging comments throughout the entire show… I wished the ground would just open and swallow me up. Lesson learned… never bring sakais to civilised, artistic performances at the MPO Hall.

I am starting to think there will be a whole slew of #moepantat entries in this blog.

Purging is sooooo liberating!




When I was still a janda (tak berapa nak terkesan), I struck up a friendship with this chap online. I can’t remember exactly where we met online, prolly some ruangan mencari jodoh for fat chicks or summat coz our boy Nando Torres here likes his wimmin on the thick and chunky side.

Nando yang sado

We lost touch when I remarried… but he emailed me again earlier this year saying that he may be moving out to Southeast Asia to be with his Pinay love and was coming to KL in December. Apa-apalah laboo… I am not about to go and meet you anyhoos. (He and I have a … “history”… one I am not about to go into here. A very dear friend here knows wot transpired.. *nervous laugh*)

He wrote me a couple more times after that, messages which I ignored for the most part… except for the occasional courteous, “hope you are doing great too” in response to his good wishes for me.

Just recently pokcik started moyan because his Pinay girlfriend has turned out to be a liar. She told him he was an engineer but from what he told me about her, I am more inclined to think that she’s either a maid or a nurse. He told me he went celibate in NYC for the past year and a half, in loyalty to her. Muy pendejo, verdad? The Pinay may have been kangkang-ing all over Cagayan De Oro and Cebu City for all he knows.

The upshot of it all, she had promised to send him money… and of course she hasn’t up to now. Next thing I know he is reminiscing about our “closeness” and trying to hit me up for a couple of Ben Franklins.

Hel-lo? He may be a pendejo but I am not.

Harap muka hensem badan sado jah but wot a bleedy loo-hoo-ser.

Apa Ke Pun Tart

I started going to Arabic classes nearly 2 months ago now.  Initially it was just to support a friend who had started an ‘academy’ of sorts in the area where I live, teaching Quranic tajweed and Arabic.

My interest was piqued in the language after the first month, so I decided to sign up for the Intensive Arabic Programme offered by the Islamic Online University (IOU). I could have joined the Madinah Uni Arabic course but having to drive all the way to Section 9 in Shah Alam for classes, I didn’t see how I could be consistent with that.  The IOU allows me a certain level of freedom as to when I can attend classes and finish the modules so it works for me perfectly.

Anyhoos.. akak moyan ni coz of the ustadz who teaches at the Academy. This Ustadz was brought in by my friend to teach tajweed and Arabic. He’s not local and he struggles with his English. When I first signed up, I was wondering how in heck was I going to learn Arabic when the ustadz can barely convey what he needs to convey to us because his English is so poor? But I soldiered on because I was thoroughly enjoying learning a new language… and was doing my own research/study outside of class anyway.

Lately I noticed the ustadz seems to make it his personal goal to put me down in class. Whenever I answer correctly, which is 95% of the time (I work hard and put in effort), he would just totally ignore me or never bother to reward me with an “احسنت” that my fellow classmates would get when they get something right. OKlah.. aku bukan hadap sangat dengan your puji-pujian… but when you start to say stuff that put me down and humiliate me in class then that’s bleddy not on.

He started class off today by asking everyone whether we can read Arabic. All of us read the Qur’an so I guess we can say that we “can” read Arabic, albeit with diacritical marks to help us pronounce the words correctly. Reading Arabic text, is quite a different kettle of fish as there are no diacritical marks (baris atas, bawah, depan as the Malays would say.. fatha, kasrah and dhamma in Arabic) to help one along. When he came to my table, he asked me whether I could read the text on the new handout he had just passed to us seconds before.  I didn’t say, “YES! I can read..” I just hesitantly said I will try and proceeded to read the first few sentences of Arabic text on the handout.  He cut me off very abruptly with an “OK” and strode to the front of the class.

He started to pokpek pokpek… then said, the sister *points to me at the back* just now said she could read but she read it wrong.

Eh wot?!

He then proceeded to read out the paragraph correctly, which was exactly like how I read it except for one connecting vowel (harakah) which was governed by a grammatical rule that we hadn’t yet been taught. Apakepoonders kau nak kena kata “the sister said she could read” and then proceed to highlight my mistake, one which would have easily been committed by everyone else in the class if they had been asked coz none of us had been taught that particular grammatical rule YET?

Macam kau nak kata sebenarnya aku tak pandai baca la kan? Padahal dalam kelas kau terpaksa tanya aku jugak in the end when the others are just busy with their ‘errr… errrmmmm’ upon being asked any question.

Each time I answer a question right, he will ask me a FURTHER more DIFFICULT question… It’s as if he wants to catch me out, set me up for a fall. This is why now at 2:20am I am up reading, building my vocabulary coz I want to give him proverbial slaps in the face each time he tries to set me up for a fall in class by answering each question he asks me correctly. Padahal orang lain get asked kanak2 Ribena tadika level questions. I get asked convoluted grammatical questions, even the NAMES of each grammatical rule.. segala Ta u ta’nith ussakinah la.. ya u mutakallim lah, ta mutaharrikah lah, nun an niswah and segala bagai toknenek Arabic grammatical terms lagi.

The others will get simple “ما هذا؟” questions that only require, “هذ١ قلم” kinda answers. Apakepundek? Kucing aku pun boleh jawab.

I suspect pundek berjanggut perut boroi ni has been told stuff about me by The Sanctimonious Prick Ex. I am sure none that was told to him was anything good.. knowing him. I know he knows him. Kaymark tak kaymark?

Anyhoos, I have been planning to quit classes at the Academy once my IOU classes get underway. This Friday’s class will be my last at the frikkin’ Academy. My friend was kind enough to set up the Academy for this bleddy ustadz so he can earn some income whilst here in ماليذيا but dasar tak sedar diri. A whole family of students (mak pak and 2 daughters) already quit earlier this month… coz no one understands wot he’s on about (more than) half the time.

Nota kaki: Moyan in Malay is sooooo much more satisfying!