WE HAVE MOVED

WE all need a fresh start sometimes. Just like PotSNORTS needs a new home, too. Much as we love this spot and have gotten used to it, we are looking at expanding our blogging horizons so that those who follow/chance upon our musings would have a better read.

So, please do come visit us at http://malaysianminx.wordpress.com where PotSNORTS is now known as Musings of A Malaysian Minx. We would be pleased if you drop comments there as well.

There is one other thing: our new home supports People for Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), which is one of the biggest animal rights organisations in the world. On the right side of the page is a little badge called 'Social Vibe' which enables you to do your bit to raise funds for animal rights. There is no money involved: all you need to do is click on the badge, work through a few of the questions and you will earn points which will translate into cash. This will then mobilise the right people and organisations to do what's right for animals.

Please visit us there. We love to write and we hope to make it an interesting read for you.

Aku Anak Malaysia

YESTERDAY, Malaysia turned 53. Yesterday, we celebrated our freedom from colonial rule (and that of the Japanese, Dutch and Portuguese before that) -- an event our forefathers fought so hard for. Yesterday should've been a celebration.

But yesterday was a lacklustre affair. Sure, there was the usual celebration at the Stadium Putra, but the streets were quiet. There was little hype and fanfare. Fewer Merdeka ads on TV. Far less Merdeka banners or Malaysian flags on buildings. No Merdeka 'feeling'. Throughout the entire month of August, I could count the number of cars with the proverbial mini Malaysian flag attached on the side; previously, numerous cars were decked with numerous mini flags. Previously, I saw people waving full-sized Malaysian flags on the backs of pickup trucks.

This year's National Day, sadly, is laced with apathy, anger, and racial discrimination. This year, some have been heard to threaten the increasingly fraying harmony of my country with a repeat of May 13. This year, some of us have been unfairly labelled as 'pendatang'. This year, those who spoke up against injustice and bigotry in the country were threatened with bullets in their mail, had multiple police reports lodged against them, were harshly branded as traitors to their own kind. This year, principals are turning a blind eye to unity by sowing seeds of discord among students. This year, a few Malaysians walking the streets on Merdeka eve were suddenly attacked by a bunch of youths and told to "balik ke negara asal", simply because they were Chinese. This year, Namewee is placed under investigation for being vocally critical (in YouTube) over a principal's racist remarks against Chinese and Indian students in her school.

Perhaps, it's because Yasmin Ahmad is dead and there is none left capable of carrying the torch. I hope not. Perhaps, it's because the likes of Perkasa and MPM, namely Ibrahim Ali and his bunch of bigoted cohorts have not been duly muzzled. Perhaps, Malaysians are forgetting what our forefathers fought for; truly fought for. And that, perhaps, is the fault of the powers-that-be.

I am of Chinese-Indian parentage. I make a halal living. I love my country and its multiple ethnicities. I love the peace and harmony here. And I am saddened by what has been happening of late.

Aku anak Malaysia: I am Malaysian, and I am not ashamed of it.

I call on all Malaysians to remember
that united we stand; divided we fall.
Happy Merdeka!
And peace to all

No Arms No Legs No Worries

THIS is perspective.

Just for Now.....

“I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.”
- Anais Nin

Tempting Topiary

I AM a happy woman...although I had no happy thoughts first thing this morning.

I woke up with the usual hangup of having to drag my sorry ass to the office (my favourite days are the days when I don't have to go to work, but, really, I shouldn't complain because it ain't all that bad). Having to iron a particularly difficult shirt three times consecutively made my mood all the bleaker. To make matters worse, I was late. Yes, again.

I was stopped by the receptionist-cum-HR person as soon as I breezed in. I panicked for a moment, thinking 'My ass is so busted...they are gonna nail me for being extra late today for sure.'

To my surprise, I was told that I had a gift. Puzzled, I watched as she reached behind and placed this beautiful bouquet in front of me.

It took me a moment to realise that this yummy little topiary (yup - it was not even a mere bouquet...it was a friggin' work of art!) was for me. ME! And with it came this really sweet self-penned poem by a beautiful, wonderful person. Now, Beautiful Wonderful Person (BWP) is not even in the country at the moment. It was during one of BWP's wanderings at Solaris recently, that he came across this neat little florist-cum-bakery shop. BWP walked in, selected the flowers and other knick-knacks and left the rest in the artistic hands of the florist. Yeah, kinda like a veni, vidi, vici moment.

Bear with me a while longer. The topiary is a prettily woven arrangement of gerberas, mums and roses punctuated with white and dark chocolates, strawberries (fresh and dipped in chocolate) and cherries. Here are some close-ups:







What really moved me was the thought behind the gesture: the selection of flowers and chocolates, the poem; the whole works.

Thank you, BWP, for being such a beautiful, wonderful person. You made my day especially when I needed it.

For some brief details on the creation in the words of the florist and to know more about the florist, click here.

NOTE: Pictures courtesy of Little Collins Bakery & Florist

Of Cheater Co*ks (and Cu*ts)

I'M having an image flash in front of my eyes right now: a Legally Blonde Reese Witherspoon-lookalike in a tight form-fitting crepe pink suit with a matching pillbox-style hat suit, and tooth-sparkling smile to boot, annoucing: "Hey married people, cheating is in vogue now; it's so the new pink! You just need to know how to do it!" (cue: giggles)

So what inspired this sickly, saccharine-sweet (not) moment?

I blame it on a clip I watched on SkyNews: something to do with websites for married people looking for a booty-call/affair with other like-minded married folk. Which, led me to scour the Internet to find out if such websites truly exist. And they do!

I googled "dating websites for married people who want to cheat" and it rendered 296,000 results in 0.22 seconds! I guess it really isn't that big a deal if you compare it to googling "how to bake a cake" (which, incidentally, rendered 10,100,000 results in 0.13 seconds), but it is appalling enough to know that, based on the results that I got from Google, you can read up to 811 entries a day on how to cheat on your spouse for an entire year!

The results range from various websites where would-be philanderers can sign up and meet other would-be philanderers (one of the sites termed it 'married dating' - what the hell, that sounds like an oxymoron!), interviews, videos and even an affair guide.

One of the websites I came across (the CEO of said site actually talked about the website on CNN) even came with a money-back guarantee. Their motto: 'Life is short. Have an affair.' Also, I learnt that 70% of its 3.86 million members are men.

Another website tried to explain why men cheat. Here's an excerpt:

Their libido is prickling their self-esteem and making them ask why their wife no longer seems to want or desire them.
Unfortunately, for many men, it's not that their wives don't feel sexually attracted to them personally, but that they are so exhausted by the daily trauma of raising kids, they don't have any energy left to think about sex at all. And many will not have the inclination to question the need for business trips or client entertaining.
And this is the real answer to why do married men cheat.
The problem is that the fragile egos of their men folk equate sex with love. So, they feel diminished if they are not receiving that type of attention on a regular basis. Without that intimacy they begin to feel inadequate and worthless.
If a partner of either sex feels neglected or starved of affection within a marriage, eventually they will look to inject some excitement back into their life.

Can society get more permissive than this? I'd like to think that there is still some sanctity in the institution of marriage. I'd like to think that spouses can still remain madly in love with one another and still have crazy passionate sex up till their golden years (ok, maybe it won't be that crazy passionate when you can barely remember where you put your glasses or dentures, but you get what I mean). I'd like to think that old married couples can still have loads to banter about, laughs to share and tears to cry on each other's shoulders. I'd like to think that married couples can still hold hands right up to the very end.

There has got to be a way to circumvent this issue. The question is, why are the women "so exhausted by the daily trauma of raising kids?" Ironically enough, therein lies the answer to the question. Men, if you want your wives to be energetic enough in the bedroom, you have GOT to empower her. By that, I mean take some of the burden off her; make sure parenting/housekeeping is a shared role. If she gets enough rest as you do, why won't she want sex right? Of course, men, you gotta have great technique to get your women salivating for you. Else, don't bother, k? You might as well hump a pie.

My friend Sean has a very interesting point of view. He says sex with a woman begins from the moment you talk to her: how you hold her hand, the compliments you pay her, how you manage things at home, how you help her around...basically, the point is to make the woman feel like a woman..and helping her with the kids show that you value her. It shouldn't be too hard, especially when sex with a man begins the moment he unbuttons his fly and whips his penis out (yes, this is also another nugget of wisdom from Sean). But then, I acknowledge that not all men are like Sean, who relishes making a woman feel special. Which, then, makes me conclude that not all men are marriage material. So, how come it is the men who are promiscuous and complaining about their marriage? Shouldn't a higher percentage of women be out there screwing around to make up for the lack in their partners?

But, back to the issue at hand.

How about scheduling some time for each other? Perhaps leave the kid with the nanny twice a week, i.e. two days consecutively? The first day can be devoted to letting the spouses recuperate and talk. The second day allows for more physical activity.

Ultimately, it all boils down to understanding and maturity in both partners, and also making the effort to make it work together.

I refuse to believe that we have to resort to cheating to fulfill a lack in a marriage.

And I choose to prove myself right. When my time comes, I will make it work.

Because of all the mistakes that society and I, myself, have made.

Because of all the mistakes I have seen happen in front of my eyes.

P.S. Oh. By the way, I have nothing against blondes... but the reason I chose to lead into this posting the way I did was because it is a visual depiction of how sickly sweet this whole sugarcoating of infidelity is to me.

Imogen Says It Best

WAIT IT OUT

Where do we go from here?
How do we carry on?
I can't get beyond the questions.
Clambering for the scraps
In the shatter of us collapsed.
That cuts me with every could-have-been.

Pain on pain on play, repeating
With the backup makeshift life in waiting.

Everybody says: "Time heals everything."
But what of the wretched hollow?
The endless in-between?
Are we just going to wait it out?

There's nothing to see here now,
Turning the sign around;
We're closed to the Earth 'til further notice.
Stumbling cliché case -
Crumpled and puffy-faced -
Dead in the stare of a thousand miles.

All I want: only one street-level miracle.
I'll be a an out-and-out, born again from none more cynical.

Everybody says that time heals everything all in the end.
But what of the wretched hollow?
The endless in-between?
Are we just going to wait it out?

And sit here cold?
We'll be long gone by then.
And lackluster in dust we lay
'round old magazines.
Fluorescent lighting sets the scene
For all we could and should be being
In the one life that we've got.

In the one life that we've got.

Everybody says that time heals everything.
But what of the wretched hollow?
The endless in-between?

Are we just going to wait it out?
Sit here. Just going to wait it out?
Sit here cold. Just going to sweat it out?

Wait it out.