The city of Kuching appears worn out. But not its welcome, nor its charm. This is anytime better than a concrete jungle that’s spiffy but soul-less. Most of the residents do look the rough, tough and tumble type, but all you need to do is smile, and they’ll blush sooner than they can hide their missing teeth. That said, there’s a lot of beauty in this. It’s that, urgh, what’s that word? Ah, sincerity. Genuine sincerity. Pardon the superciliousness, but their smiles are sincere and so unlike the ones from the fake and flaccid KL-ites.

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When the rich and the powerful plunder everything there is to be plundered, which is everything, the poor are left to steal from the even poorer.

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There are simply too many chords to learn. And my fingers are really, really not long enough for the guitar. Hey, nothing’s perfect. But they can still be the best things.

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Boy have I got two phallic and platitudinous structures, and the people’s hard-earned tax dollars, for you. If you have to compensate, by all means, over-compensate.

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I’d like to dedicate this International Women’s Day to my wife, without whom the day, or any day, would pass with nary an awe and inspiration.

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I’ve never had problems with coordination. So I took up drum lessons. If you see me shake my leg as I sit down eating or anything, please don’t think I’m the cocky or restless type. I’m just practicing in between things.

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