Vanity of Vanities...

...all is vanity.

Said King Solomon in his old age.

Even though I do not believe everything that is written in the Bible, I do agree with this statement. A lot of people today live and conduct their lives over pointless material things. Some are not even physical things.

Take Facebook for instance. Or Instagram. Or Twitter.

What do the likes and 'friends' that one has collected even mean? What is the purpose of the countless edited photos that one posts up?

People today go to the extreme to get likes and followers. Some have even died while in the act of getting an 'awesome' selfie picture. Click on LINK to read what stupid things people have done for a selfie which resulted in death. Selfie with an injured bear! What a moron! Selfie on train tracks with a speeding train heading towards the selfie-rs.

Solomon was the richest man on Earth during his time. People from all over the world went to him for advice because he was the wisest man of them all. He even had 700 wives and 300 concubines! He had everything. But in the end at his old age, he felt all had been meaningless and futile.

The literal translation of the word 'vanity' is "ha-vel" which means "vapour" or "breath". It is only for a short moment and then it is gone forever. What Solomon was trying to tell us is not be swept away by the temporal things in life which have no meaning. Live a life which is meaningful and not one which is filled with vanity.

We've been given one life. Don't live in on futile things. Don't let vanity be the bane of your life.

Live meaningfully.

Make full use of your life.

*picture taken from HERE

Mottainai

Mottainai is an ancient Japanese philosophy. It is translated as "Oh what a waste!" or "Don't be wasteful!". It is a term used to express a feeling of regret at wasting the fundamental value of a resource or object.

The word "mottainai" is believed to have origins in the Buddhist philosophy and religious practices. *It is used to express the feeling of regret that carries metaphysical, ethical and aesthetic connotations.

*taken from HERE

This term was made famous outside of Japan by a Kenyan environmentalist named Wangari Maathai. "Mottanai" to an environmentalist is to respect the resources around us. To not waste resources. To use things with a sense of gratitude. It has become synonymous with the four Rs: re-use, re-purposing, repairing and respecting items.

In these times of consumerism, massive wastage and extreme pollution, let us practice "mottainai" in our everyday life to help save our environment and also our wallets!

Hide & Feed!

Recently, a breastfeeding mother from the US was told to "cover up" at a restaurant while she was on holiday. She promptly covered her face with a towel.

That was posted online and it went viral. Click on LINK to read about the post. Of course helpful netizens all over the world went crazy and had to put forth their opinion.

One particular woman strongly voiced that in order to avoid exposing the breasts in public and to avoid bringing upon oneself unwanted leering, breastfeeding mothers should either cover up with a cloth OR HIDE in a room to feed the baby.

Really?

Let me share with you what happened when I went hid in a breastfeeding room to feed a few months old baby Joel many, many years ago.

We used to live nearby a very popular and hip mall. There were plenty of changing rooms and breastfeeding rooms in this mall. We were in one of the main departmental stores when I had to feed Joel. I went into the room, closed the curtain and placed the stroller with two of it wheels exposed outside beneath the curtain (standard procedure to inform other mothers that the room is occupied). Usually they will softly ask whether the room is occupied or not if they do not see stroller wheels.

Lo and behold as I was feeding Joel, when suddenly the curtain was drawn wide opened! A man with a smug look, stood gawking at me breastfeeding my son. He stared at this breastfeeding act with wanton lust in his eyes. I was so shocked. I wanted to scream 'PERVERT!' at the top of my lungs. Trust me if I had did that, the whole departmental would have heard me even with their music blasting from their speakers. But I was afraid of frightening Joel as he was fast asleep, happily drinking from me. I was also worried that he would turn violent and attack my baby had I started to scream at him.

Lucky for me, my large blouse covered my breasts.

And then his very tired-looking wife appeared from behind him with a baby in the stroller. She had not seen me yet.

"Abang, apa kau buat?" "Husband, what are you doing?" she asked him.

I glared daggers at her the moment our eyes locked and her eyes went wide as saucers. She quickly pulled her husband away and apologised profusely as she drew the curtain close. There was still a gap between the curtain and the wall and I could see that bastard husband of hers walking away with a proud swagger while the wife hurried after him.

I cursed him that he would have erectile dysfunction from that day until to the day he dies. No Viagra or Tongkat Ali can save that dick of his.

So woman, HIDE and FEED you say? I hid and fed and yet this perverted a**hole came LEERING anyway. Cover with a cloth then? You ever tried sleeping on another person and drinking with a cloth covering your face? Can you breathe? Do you know what body heat is?

The mentality has to change. Breastfeeding is giving food for the baby. Period. That is all to it. Men with dicks as their brains must be overhauled. Women who view this as unholy and sexual need to have their brains overhauled too.

Or maybe we should tell the cows to cover up their udders too!

Elephant Legs

I remember when I was about fourteen, my class teacher gave me the duty to write out her notes-of-the-day on the blackboard. As I was writing, the hunk-of-the-school called me. When I turned around, he said this in his loudest voice: 

'Evelyn, why are your calves like elephant legs? You shouldn't be called Evelyn. You should be called Elephant Legs!'

He then guffawed and turned around to the class and shouted 'Miss ELEPHANT LEGS!!!!!!!!!! HahahahahahahaahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA!'

My soul was scarred from that day onwards. I researched religiously on how to make my calves smaller. I began to only wear pants and long skirts. I wanted to keep my 'elephant legs' under wrap so that nobody could see them. I detested my 'elephant legs'. I would rather kill myself than to expose them and walk out of the house! Why did I have SUCH ugly legs?! My mind was always in my legs. 

Sad to say, this went on until I was in my twenties and even in my early thirties.

Most of the time when my husband and I went out, he would point out to me those plus sized ladies wearing dresses, skirts and shorts who had bigger legs than me. He would say, 'Look at them! Theirs are so much bigger than yours and yet they are so confident! Why won't you be like them? You're not Elephant Legs!'

Unfortunately, the scales did not fall off my eyes. I couldn't spew out the thorn that had embedded so deeply inside my soul. It was too rooted.

Until one day....

When I met Death. 

The shackles have been falling off slowly over the past seven years. 

Imagine that I used to wear pants even to the wet market. 

Thinking back, I was NUTS! Yes, the elephant legs must have loved nuts!

The change was slow and steady. The confidence grew bit by bit.

It started with shorts to the market. Then it progressed to the supermarket.  To the shops. To school. Shorts soon graduated to knee length skirts. Which was worn to malls. 

Who gives a damn if my legs do not conform to the supermodels' strict size 0 measurements? Who cares if my legs are not miles long? Marilyn Monroe was considered fat at one time. And then she became perfect. Fat, thin, skinny: the ruler that is used to measure beauty fluctuates all the time. It never ends. Perfect beauty doesn't exist. I have legs that can carry me and walk. Period. And that's what I'm thankful for. 

To the little girl whose friends called you ugly and rejected you because you're different from them, you're you. You're special. And I hope you will not waste 20 years thinking that you're ugly. You're a beautiful girl. 

What happened to the 'hunk' who called me elephant legs, you ask?

Well, he got married, had a son and decided one day to walk out of their lives as he needed to have his life back. 

I guess he has an elephant butt upstairs.

The Keyboard Warrior

I am sure you have come across warriors in your life.

There are those who are the brave firefighters who fight fires to save lives. They are the fire warriors.

Then there are the policemen who risk their lives to protect the citizens from harm and to prevent crime. They are the crime warriors. Protector of the people.

And there are those who battle fatal diseases. Fighting for their lives and yet still full of life. They are warriors too.

And then, there are the keyboard warriors.

Yes.

You read that right.

The keyboard warriors.

I think I heard you blink.

What on earth are keyboard warriors you ask.

They are the online warriors who defend the effigy of truth. They defend it ever so passionately that it makes you want to cry from their audacity sincerity.

Let me enlighten your mind on how the keyboard warriors defend the helpless people in the world of the internet.

1. The Righteous Slappers

Miss A: I've tried your recipe twice and it still isn't happening.
Miss B: (Gives a few more suggestions in order to help Miss A.)
Miss A: What am I going to do with all that I've made which didn't turn out so well?
Miss B: (Gives some other suggestion to Miss A.)
Miss A: I do not know how to make the things you've suggested.
Miss B: If there's really no choice, maybe you would have to throw it away.

Miss A goes livid and starts a new post stating that she wants to SLAP Miss B as she had the sheer audacity to even suggest that she throws away whatever shit awesome creation that she had made. Miss A continues to rant that Miss B lied in her recipe. Thus, the failure in Miss A two attempts in replicating Miss B's recipe. And Miss A continues to rant that she wants to slap Miss B's face as she is so INCENSED at Miss B's 'throw-away' suggestion. 'So wasted you know!!!!!!!! She thinks money grows on trees issit????!!!!!!!!'

2. All Hail the Lover-Keeper-Of-All-Things-Alive

SUZY posts a video of a sickly stray dog near her place. She appeals for someone to help the dog. Soon her post is filled with comments.

A: Why did you not bring the dog to the vet instead of asking for help? Aren't you a hypocrite?
B: Please lah. Be more compassionate. You should bring the dog into your house, bathe it and take care of it. God created all animals and God will love you more if you rescue this dog.
C: Stop judging Suzy you people. I'm sure if she could, she would. Maybe she's not financially well off.
D: STFU you #%*$@&$* C! HOW MUCH DOES IT TAKE TO TAKE CARE OF A SICK DOG???!! MAY YOU BE BITTEN WITH A THOUSAND FLEAS ON A CAMEL'S BACK FOR NOT HAVING COMPASSION FOR THAT POOR DOG!
E: Anyone can help with the dog? If I lived nearby I would. Please, anyone?? My heart is bleeding just watching the video! (CRIES)
F: Someone should just shoot Suzy and C for not doing enough for the dog. It's a living being! (SOBS)
G: #^#**@^#^!^&@&#^!^^@#
H: F*CK!!!!!! How can anyone leave the dog out there to die!!???!!! God help humanity.

Soon, Suzy takes down the post.

3. The Cannot-Take-The-F@CK-Word Holy of Holies Holier Than Thou Art

WEEPY: FML! I had such a F8cking day today! Everything went F*cking wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! F*CK!!!!!!
Saint Anonymous: STOP CURSING AND SWEARING. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF FOR CURSING AND SWEARING. DID YOUR MOTHER NOT TEACH YOU NOT TO CURSE AND SWEAR???? YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO YOUR MOTHER!!! GO AND REPENT. I HOPE YOU STILL HAVE SOME CONSCIENCE AND WILL REMOVE THIS POST!!! I EXPECT TO SEE THIS POST GONE BY TOMORROW!!!!

4. The Opinion-Slasher

A: I am just voicing my opinion.
B: You should think before you type. You know people like you do not deserve to be in this world. How you could even type out such a thing is beyond me. You should just kill yourself and do justice to this world.

Aren't the keyboard warriors awesome? I think I better go STFU before someone wants to slap me and send me to the dog pound so that justice can be done!

I Cut My Hair Too

The headlines screamed, 'Kim Kardashian Had Her Haircut!!!!!'

Wait a minute.

I had mine too. About a month ago.

Damn!

It didn't make it to the headlines.

I had expected more news worthy headlines.

Like how scientists have found a cure for Ebola.

Or how there's a cure for dengue.

Or even for HIV/AIDS.

How disappointing.

Anyway, here's some interesting distraction from such depressing headlines.

A miniature Kraken captures an unsuspecting victim!

Will this Kraken please get rid of all these unnecessary news too?

17,589 Kilometres

17, 589.

That is one very big number. To me, that is.

And that is how much I have travelled in almost 2 1/2 years.

I've been through flash floods, endless jams, potholes that could swallow a giant-sized chihuahua, and freak storms. I've encountered drivers in the form of chameleons (they turn into instant angels the moment there is a policeman in sight and into the devil himself the moment they are out of the police's range), monsters behind wheels, courteous drivers, the HULK, the sleeping driver and last but not least, the iGadget driver who can never keep his/her eyes on the road other than their gadgets.

As a very active driver, I can tell you that you can arrive at your destination via many roads. All roads do tend to lead to Rome. It doesn't matter if you choose to take the longer route to enjoy the scenery. What matters is that we arrive at our destination. Sometimes that destination is not in this world. It is not the destination we intended to arrive at. And there are times when we arrive at the destination far way too soon.

Sometimes we choose to drive leisurely. Sometimes TOO leisurely. At other times we fly like a F1 driver. And at times, the drive is an abrupt drive. And it is very sad that today, many drivers are burnt-out, frustrated, unmotivated, exhausted and potential-murderers. Someone once said that it takes 8,460 bolts to assemble an automobile and one nut to scatter it all over the road.

But drive we must drive and drive we shall.

'Leave sooner, drive sooner, live longer.' - Author unknown

The Bear and Man

It stood up on its hind legs towering over Man with its ferocious roar and menacing claws. What was Man to do but fall to the ground and play dead? Bear was approximately 290kg. One swipe with its claws and Man's brains would be pulverized.

If only it wasn't so......

----------------------------------

Bear was just a little cub when Man found it. It was all alone without its mama. It was cute and adorable. And perfect as Man worked in the circus. The wheels in Man's brain began to turn. The 'ka-ching' sound reverberating in Man's brain. The glamour of being known as 'The Bear Man'! Man began training Bear to walk on its hind legs. Each day practicing, pushing Bear to walk. Never ceasing. The cracking of the whip and the never ending 'UP! UP!!!! UP!!!!!!!!!!!' Bear had to walk. And walk it had to.

And finally one day, Bear walked. Man was so blinded by the newly minted coins in his mind that Man did not realise that Bear was now a towering 6-foot-killing machine when it was up on its hind legs.

On that glamorous and glittering opening act of Bear, it roared and roared and walk and walked and pulled the whole tent down. There was chaos and never ending screaming. Man ran for his life. But Bear caught up with him within seconds.

Man immediately fell to the ground and played the dead. Bear the towering giant walked and walked and walked around Man but Man was too afraid to watch. Help finally came and the zinging of bullets pierced the encompassing forest and hit Bear in the heart. Bear crashed on Man and they both died.

'You can never tame the wild.
And you can never tame Man.'
- Girl Alive

Forever F

Fabulously, freaking fastidious,

Faultless, faddy and flaky,

Flamboyant

Was Freddie of Fourth Avenue.

Freddie was fussy, fat and foul-mouthed,

Favors fable over fact.

Follows feelings,

Faithful?

That's a facade!

Freddie flaunts,

Famously facinorous,

Factious,

Forever fabricates.

Foes more than friends.

Freddie was fame and fortune

Filthy rich

His faith was a falacy

Freddie the false-faced!

February came,

And Freddie fancied a fair fawn,

And fiery was the fair maiden

Freddie flew France to her

The fair-head said, 'Forgo the fat.'

So Freddie fasted to lose the fat

Freddie fixed his flagging flubber

Faithful like the furry friends

With her, he falters

He fancied-sick her,

Fantasied excessively about her,

Behaved fatuously with her.

She was f**ked up,

And yet he facilitated her every demand

Bought her a fleet of cars,

He wanted to be her Flora and Fauna.

He friended every friend on her Facebook (a Faux Pas),

Flattered her father

Finished her mother's flawed and flavourless fig pie,

Oh, she was his fair and foxy fairy!

Fairy tale it was not.

She wanted him to fade away,

The flame was flaked out

He fell from grace

Forbade him to even furnish her with a floral gift.

He fell apart,

He floundered, 

He fainted, 

Fatigued hit him. 

There wasn't going to be a flower girl.

He had flunked. 

He was a failure.

His fantasy flopped.

He was a foreclosure.

He faded away,

He was Freddie.

He was Forever F.

The Marionette

A jerk here. And a jerk there. A pull here. And a pull there. That was how 'he' moved. Never on 'his' own. Not since the day 'he' was created. If 'his' master wanted 'him' to jump, 'he' jumped. If he wanted 'him' to fall, 'he'd' fall. Never once of 'his' own will. 

Tossed aside like a discarded doll at the end of the day, 'he' would lay in the dark corner of the cabinet with 'his' leg tangled around 'his' neck wondering the purpose of 'his' existence. Until the next day when 'he' would be picked up and dangled like a carrot in front of the audience oooohing and aaahhhing at his clumsiness. It was a mockery of 'his' existence. 'He' should live a better life than this.

But how could 'he'? 'He' was like a cripple. Unable to move on 'his' own. Depending on the mercy of Gestapo. If 'mercy' is a word that exists in this world. If 'he' was peeling or had an injury, more paint would be lathered on 'him'. No effort or even the slightest decency in giving 'him' a minor repair. 'He' was after all a marionette. 

'He' had enough. For far too long 'he' had been bullied and controlled. It was time 'he' did something with 'his' life that brought 'him' joy. But nothing brought 'him' joy except being free of those ugly, mouldy strings that manipulated 'him'. But without them, 'his' existence was nulled. 

'He' purposely fell across the scissors when Gestapo flung 'him' across the room onto the shelf after a lackluster performance. No fault of 'his' since Gestapo was slurring and couldn't even walk a straight line. But then, when was Gestapo ever in the wrong? Soon snoring was heard at the other corner of the room. 'He' immediately got to work.

Bit by bit 'he' sawed off the strings that bound 'his' life to slavery. Little by little 'he' worked to free 'himself'. 'He' ignored the cuts and the nicks. They didn't matter. Layers of thick paint were shaven off. And beneath 'he' saw 'his' true self. Plain and made of wood. But true to 'himself'. 

When the final string snapped, he never felt more free. For once, he felt dignified. He gingerly stood up and gave the world a final performance on his own. He jumped. The ride down was the best thing he had ever experienced. He was free. Even if it was for a three seconds.

THUD!

HE was free.

The Crack

Before they could even begin, it appeared. Like an insidious disease. It crept in like a thief in the night. It came so unexpectedly that no one saw it. No one had thought that it would happen. 

But it did.

At first it was as fine as a hairline. In fact everyone who saw it brushed it aside thinking it was a strand of hair that had gone astray. 

But it wasn't.

And everyone thought it didn't matter much. 

As it widened, the humans found a way to overcome it. At first they could skip over it, hop over it. As it grew wider the younger humans took it to be their new skateboarding hangout. 

Soon it grew as wide as a chasm. It wasn't a problem. The humans constructed a bridge over it. First it was a wooden bridge. And then a new concrete bridge was built. And in the end it was replaced with a titanium bridge.

Of course there were some who fell into the chasm. But they rationalized that it was their bad luck that had caused their death.

It never occurred to the humans that they needed to fix the crack. It took too much effort. Too much work. Too much thinking. Building something over it was much quicker and easier. If it grew wider, build a longer bridge. Build a more magnificent bridge so that the chasm wouldn't be noticed. The brightness and luminosity of the bridge's brilliance would divert the attention from the chasm. 

And then it happened.

It gave way. The chasm turned into a never-ending-abyss. And it continued to expand and it ate up its surroundings.  Its appetite could not be quelled the moment it tasted land. Its thirst could not be quenched. It was ravenous for more. It lusted and hungered for more and more and more.

And it couldn't be stopped. 

And it all began with a hairline crack...

The Perfect Sculpture

We were all born perfect. Blemish free. We were the 'perfect' marble slab until we began on the journey called Life. A few knocks, a few chips, a few cracks and we are labelled useless! We are labeled redundant. Or a FAILURE!

We parents have mini Protégés which we have been given the gravity-defying responsibility to sculpt. It's scary. How the hell are we supposed to know how to sculpt? I'm not a sculptor. I have no bloody idea on how to sculpt. I had almost lost my finger in the attempt to sculpt.

So we look for help and advice. On one side, you have parents hiring the Leonardo da Vinccis to sculpt a Greek god or Barbies out of their slab of marbles. If the chisel chips 1/1000 off the designated place, all hell breaks loose. The parents would wail and deem all was lost. Their protégé is RUINED! Leonardo would be discarded like a rag and it's-the-end-of-the-world-desperate-parent would look hastily for a replacement. Who is Leonardo by the way?

On the other hand, you have parents who love the smooth, perfect marble slab just as it is. Why bother to sculpt? It's already P.E.R.F.E.C.T! Just sit back, enjoy the wine of life and watch how people walk by and use that marble slab as a table or footstool. Hey, Que Sera Sera. What will be, will be! Chill man.

And now we have over-the-counter-mini-figurines that can be bought. This market has buffet spreads catered to suit your every whims and fancies. You can have mini models strutting in stilettos, mini scientists (think Einstein) and even mini chefs! The possibilities are endless.

So how do I choose?

I chose to sculpt my slab all by myself. 

I am no sculpture expert, not even close to passable. Remember that I had almost lost my finger(s). I'm neither an artist. But I'm a realist. I've chipped off chunks where I shouldn't have. I have caused my slab to crack in places that will cause others to gasp in horror. I have even dropped my slab of marble many times!!! 'Your sculpture is DOOMED!!!!!!' many have hollered at me. 

But I don't give a shit. 

Because with all its imperfections, cracks, chips and whatever blemish that I have managed to incur on my slab of marble, I have the perfect sculpture.

* When shit happens, we make manure!

The Bumble Bee

Bumble Bee was one damn happy bee. Its hive had the whole orchard to itself. There were glorious smelling colourful flowers. The flowers were so colourful that one could go blind by the array and brightness of the colours.

Sad to say as the years went by, the occupants of Bumble Bee's hive declined in numbers at a very alarming rate. Cousin Bee never returned after a day out in Flowerland. Rumours has it that he died after inhaling pollen from some of the flowers which were at the southern parts of Flowerland.

And then Monumental Bee died. Followed by Bumble-li-cious. And then Harmony died. And THEN Muscular Bee died. When something happens to Muscular Bee, you would know that it was something very sinister as Muscular had NEVER, ever fell sick in his entire life. And now he was dead.

The entire colony was on the verge of collapse. Bumble Bee became very sick. No one knew what was killing them.  

Bumble Bee could no longer smell the flowers. It could no longer even fly straight. The sickness was slowly destroying its system. Slowly but surely.

Everyone seemed to be dying off. But Bumble Bee miraculously somehow managed to hang on. It had wanted to die many times. It had wanted to end it all with just one sting. But the remnants of the nest needed him. The little young ones were still so small. 

Thus,  Bumble Bee hung on. Even with the poison seeping into his pores, poisoning every part of his tiny body and soul, Bumble Bee clung on. 

Though everything had died, Bumble Bee was alive. Though nothing was the same, Bumble Bee was. 

I.AM.RICH.

1 million, 10 million and 1 billion,

I have none,

It's everybody's mission

To dream of owning a bullion.

Money, money, More money!

They all scream;

To the land of the abundant over-flowing milk and honey

It is certainly everybody's dream.

They will stab,

They will kill;

They will even eat crap

While their lives go descending downhill.

A million I have not,

I am not even a big-shot;

I have never struck the jackpot,

And the abundant thing that I have in the kitchen is the shallot!

But I am rich,

And I am certainly not bewitched,

This is definitely not a glitch,

And no, I did not knock my head in the ditch.

I have wealth,

Though I definitely do not own health,

But yet I am rich,

You too can be once you flip on the switch.

A never-ending-learning mind,

A willingness to make one-hundred mistakes,

One that does not mind the grind,

At times, for years all you do is flipping the pancakes.

A million stories to be told,

From all that you have experienced in life,

All of your days and night are a freehold,

You will definitely cease to strife.

Unlock the vault in your heart,

With peace, joy, love and laughter

Midnights of sadness with definitely part,

Never again will you be the beggar.

I am Rich.

The Clean Freak

I have to admit that I have an alter ego. And no, she ain't no Sasha Fierce. Or Marilyn Manson. But, my alter ego keeps me 'safe' but drives other people insane at the same time. I don't give a damn, fortunately.

She is 'The Clean Freak'.

You see, I cannot help switching to my alter ego most of the time. (Yikes! Has alter ego taken over completely?) Alter ego helps me to be safe as I might fall sick every other day since I cannot take any supplements or vitamins or any concoctions and am allergic to any other medications too!

So here are my 'clean-freak' methods which my alter-ego has helped me device in order to keep me safe:

1. Beware of the 'Cough Cloud'

According to my alter-ego's theory, the moment someone coughs, a 'cloud-cough' will form. It is a cloud filled with germs and virus and sputum from the 'cough-ee'. So the moment someone coughs, my legs will automatically detour my walk. Alter ego will cause my legs to walk to different aisles to look at things that are unnecessary to look at. It will lead me to walk in bigger circles to reach the department store that I was heading to. And if I cannot avoid the 'cough-cloud' in time, alter-ego will give me super-powers to hold my breath and perform an Olympic-worthy of breath-holding-competition until I have steered clear of the 'cough-cloud'.

2. The Wipe-Down

Everything new that is brought into the house will be wiped clean and if it can be washed, it will be hosed down. Be it the container that the bean curd is packed in or the new container that will be used for compost. It. Will. Be. Cleaned. Even the vegetables that is packed in plastic bags. Even the toilet roll bag. Even the beans that are packed in the sealed bag. E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G!

Alter ego is very concerned about leptospirosis which at the moment has reached an alarming level in Malaysia. Click on LINK to read more. Alter ego wants you to know that we have rats the size of cats over here!

3. Wash Thy Feet

The moment anyone steps out of the house, alter ego will make sure that the person washes his/her feet. And it cannot be a slip shod wash. It must be a thorough wash under running water. Even though if the feet stepped out of the house for 1 minute, it must be washed. For all you know, the stray cat could have walked on the same path and as the feet walks (yes, even with slippers), the 'germs' or 'virus' could waft up from the ground and land on the feet. And then the 'germs' and 'virus' are brought into the house!!! Eeewww! So wash thy feet!

4. No Sitting Please!

When you come home from an outing or gardening, alter ego will MAKE SURE that you change your clothes before you can even place 1/168 of your bum on the chair or even the floor. And for God's sake, go take a bathe. For all you know, you could have thousands of cough clouds attached to your clothing!

5. Wash the Throne!

Alter ego washes the throne after every 'poo business'. The throne is pristine and shiny after each and every session.

6. Only PJs in Bed!

No home clothes whatsoever. Alter ego said that you might have a crumb stuck to your T-shirt left over from supper. And there is NO WAY alter ego will let you go to bed in a crumb-stuck-on-shirt! And please wash your feet before you climb into bed. Yes, it is COMPULSORY!

7. Eating ONLY at the Dining Table

And nowhere else. Not at the sofa. Definitely NOT in bed! Alter ego HATES ants and cockroaches and lizards and rats and every other crawling thing that do not belong in the house.

8. The Wet Ones Dispensary 

You need a wet ones? Alter ego has hundreds. Maybe even thousands. Or tens of thousands. The trolley handle bar gets wiped before it is used. Little one's hands get wiped upon hopping on the car after an outing at the mall. Alter ego wipes her hands after handling the petrol pump, paying money, touching toilet doors... etc.

9. No Sitting to Pee!

Alter ego will never, ever, EVER let her bum touch a millimeter of those public toilet bowls. Alter ego will either find a squatting toilet or do the hover-while-standing-on-floor-manuever over a sitting toilet to pee. She will say, 'Over my dead body' if you ever suggest to her to sit on those bowls.

10. No Recycling of Clothes

Never! All clothes will be worn only ONCE and then it will be thrown into the washing machine to be washed. No dirty clothes will be hung behind the room door. Nothing is recycled. Not even if it was worn for 5 minutes outside of the house. Not even the jacket. You might never know, your clothing could have 'cough clouds' glued to it!

How can you say no to Little Miss Clean Freak?