Thanks Giving

I'm a fairly polite guy. Really. I'll say thank you to the same waiter who's been serving me for every service they perform, from bringing my meal to taking away the empty plate when i'm done devouring the rather delicious lasagna. Regardless whether or not the said waiter had been a complete turd or a darling, i'll say the thank yous. I credit my thanks giving nature to my family who'll smack me silly if i don't do so.

I know there are some of you who're like me(Hie there fellow nice person) and there are those who are completely oblivious to the power of it. Sure, you don't have to mean it ALL THE TIME, but just saying it sometimes can turn an unpleasant encounter with the durian seller from turning into a thorny affair. Pun quite the intended.

It just so happens that I am surrounded by these people. I blame their backgrounds and upbringing because if they'd had been brought the way i did, then i wouldn't have a topic to blog about. Or bitch. A good friend whom i shall refer to as Dark Stick, said rather succinctly, "Friends don't need to say thanks to friends". Ya meh? Shouldn't we as friends be the ones dishing out the thanks to each other like nobody's business?

Friends call me "hak hei", something like being too thankful and gracious. I got me a friggin' label for being too gracious? Bloody china-people.

It's like not saying "Please" too. YOu want to borrow something from me the least you can do is say please instead of "Gimme now la" or the evergreen classic that is "Bollow me yor stuffs". Fucken china-people.

I tried being like them, just to see what's it like being impolite. I became the non thank you and please saying dude for awhile. I actually itched every time i didn't say either one. "Bah, screw them la", i told myself that. I'd rather be known as the guy who says thanks to everything than be the guy who's a complete asshole.

Politeness isn't part of the package that comes when you're born, it is something you learn.

Chris signing off...

You know English ah?

I am a Banana. No, not the sexual connotation version of it and certainly not from the appalling song by Gwen Stefani but rather, i'm a Chinese dude who can't speak the language. I know most of the foul words(thanks guys!) and i know enough to order char kuey teow and not wanting the icky cockles. More than that, i can grasp words here and there. I was brought up by Yankee and British tv. I read Enid Blyton with a passion. I even developed an American accent from watching Sesame Street and comedies so much so that people thought i was actually from America.

Since i grew up at a place where people who don't know the area at all and who tend to think that its somewhere in between there and nowhere, my command of the national language far surpassed that of my mother tongue. Heck, the biggest praise i got was from the "apam balik" couple who said i sounded exactly like a Malay. With very slitty eyes.

Back in the days of my innocence, i was afraid to go to any Chinese restaurants for fear of being chased out because i certainly would've mispronounced crab (for those who don't know, crab in Chinese is very similar to a certain part of the female anatomy. And it ain't the armpits). There were some nice people who talked to me in either Malay or English but there were also those who gave me dirty looks because of my inability to converse with them in Chinese. When i say, "Can i have the breast part?", they'll pull a blank face ala zombie nation but when i Chinafy the sentence, "Gimme da blest plat ya.Duwan da buntut", voila!

When i was younger, i used to feel stupid for not being able to understand the language. I've even blamed my parents right in front of them. But as i got older, i told myself, "So What?". I'm certainly not the only one who can't speak Chinese. So now, i no more dread going to chinese shops and restaurants. I'll try my best to order but if i can't then i'll switch to English and if worse transcends to worst, Malay. I'll even do sign language. Not even the language barrier is going to stop me from ordering chicken rice.

I remember a time when i used to like this Chinese girl. She was nice, pretty, sweet and i suspect that she liked me too. However, i realised that not only will the language hinder communication greatly but also the way of thinking is just not compatible. She likes Jay Chou. I like Judas Priest. I want to watch Hotel Rwanda(great movie by the way), she wants to watch God of Cookery 3. I'd rather headbang my head off for her than serenade her the latest ballad. I'm not saying that i won't ever get together with a Chinese educated girl but the fact of the matter is that without even the basics, how the hell am i going to tell her that i love her?

I'm not going to blame my parents any more especially my dad, who is the main culprit actually, for not teaching me and my sisters Chinese as we were growing up. It's not too late for me to pick up the language anyway. In fact, i've noticed that there are more and more bananas now. And most of them are girls. Pretty ones too. Thank You, God.

Guess what guys? It's back which means that I'M BACK.

Hello and welcome back to the world of Whacker Inc. Or just plain me, Chris. It's been like ages since i've updated this blog of mine but the truth is simply that i got bored of the whole blogging thing. I got bored updating. I got bored trying to come up with posts that have meaning and a message to present as opposed to my previous posts where they were just absolute crap.

I however got back into the blogging fiasco via Friendster's blog service which at first was enjoyable, got pretty frustrating in the end. It's slow, unreliable and plain sucky. So i hope you guys come back often and check my blog since i assure you all, i'll be updating it pretty often from now on. Topics will range from my rather eccentric life to views and thoughts i feel strongly about.

Until then, take care and thanks for reading. Chris, signing off...