Ampang Medikal : Wit, Wattage and Watchmen

Seriously.

By the third admission - the results are back - and I can tell Ampang Medikal is in dire straits. Blood pressure falling, oxygen saturation fluctuating, heart rate flatlining - it needs a resuscitation trolley desperately. If only someone would give it a good dose of epinephrine stat.

Or preferably a full calculated dose of what I'd call Wit, Wattage and Watchmen.

Wit

Come on. Our very own little Dr Siti to carry the show with her spiritless, humourless monologues? Gosh, someone give our dour doctor a quick stab of humour please. Not to mention I find her coy flirting with the patients simply inexcusable as well.

Siti : But I was only trying to make the patient comfortable.
Paul : By letting him propose to you? Excuse me doctor but you're not dawdling at a dingy bus-stop shaking your booty picking up flirtatious fellas.
Melissa : Hee hee hee.
Paul : Stop that infernal cackling this instant.
Wong : Damn I got vomit on my scrubs again.
Paul : My God, you poor one-trick pony! Next time get a plastic apron and a mop.

Yes, the bubbly Dr Melissa has to stop giggling before someone slaps her to reality. A wonderful character otherwise but is she actually high on amphetamines all the time? Enough with the childish chatter. Time for some beta-blockers, I think.


All hail, the gang's all here.
Not much to say about the token minority pair, Dr Rajesh and Dr Wong. Apart from his obvious crush on her ( though no one knows what suddenly drew them together! ), both of them seem to have no role in this series. Apart from Dr Wong being the unfortunate victim of the vomit gag. Again.

Why do I have a bad feeling it's going to happen again?

I won't even talk about their diminished superiors who seem to have shrinking roles. Even their medical officer seems to be nasty without much provocation ( at least with the charismatic Miranda Bailey, you had the feeling that she was a super-capable wonderwoman ) so his well-meaning advice seems far less than it should be. Good writing establishes personality with defining moments and loaded lines. So really, where is the characterization in the script? So far, all the doctors seem to be near indistinguishable ciphers with bland personalities? Get a new writer!

Wattage

ACTION pls. Someone hook this fellas up to an epinephrine line fast. We need to pump up the volume and speed up the damned lagging pace. Does nothing happen in the hospital? It's.... like working in an abandoned city hospital during the Raya festivities when everyone's decamped away - and to add to it, somebody had to release a lethargic anaesthetic gas on the rest of the workers.

Watchmen

Really. Get a medical consultant STAT. Like yesterday.

So many things far too mind-numbingly hilarious that any medical personnel watching would be ROTFL. Sure, Grey's Anatomy has its flaws but at least it usually tries to stick to what's happening in the medical world.

Ranting raging star with cameras and crew without the hospital agreement? Never. They'd be gently but forcibly shoved out by our persistent nurses in milliseconds.
Head injury patient with an endotracheal tube left dangling in the air? Possible - if we wanted to perform euthanasia!
Paediatric surgeons delivering babies? Really, are obstetricians obsolete?
Are these house officers all in a single department or do they perform go-fer for all the departments in the hospital?

And finally... a watchman just to ground them to reality. A worldly-wise sophisticate ( at least what I assume Dr Melissa was ) wouldn't simper like a ninny after being asked out by a two-bit Don Juan! Wishful thinking by the writers perhaps but honestly no self-respecting lady would do such a thing. Maybe much later in the privacy of her own room, she might giggle and goggle with her buds but not at work with an unappreciative audience. The house officers are all of 25, they wouldn't simper like silly sophomoric schoolgirls.

Not to mention a world-class neurosurgeon and cardiothoracic surgeon sending their precious progeny to an unnamed, unbranded ( and appallingly common! ) kindergarten? No KUMON method? No Montessori? I'm not trying to be an elitist bitch but seriously, that's not happening in the real world.

Chinese Curses

They say that couples start to rub off on each other after a while.

Believe that would hold true for what I dub Siamese twin couples - to be separated only at risk of death or dismemberment - but does it really happen to everyone else? Always disregarded that particular relationship adage since Charming Calvin and I are miles apart in temperament and humour. Seemed almost impossible that a sober respectable fellow like him would pick up some of my more unsavoury traits.

Nor would I suddenly turn into a Lord of Perpetual Yawn like him.


The Dark Side of Calvin
Till the other day when he blithely mentioned cropping pictures of a fellow colleague. Certainly piqued my ready curiosity especially when it turned out to be shots of Creepy Cruella from his office. Stranded in Beijing, our poor hero Calvin has had to contend with a number of particularly repulsive characters ranging from minor pest-like nuisances such as indecisive clients to the aforementioned Creepy Cruella in management.

Hence the name.

A typical middle management monster, Cruella spends his hours in the office cubicle devising torturous Machiavellian schemes for his unsuspecting colleagues, sending self-laudatory messages to his superiors and then offloading sloppy jobs to his hapless minions. Not forgetting the occasional infamous office cc bullets to incriminate his fellows.

I'd have crushed such a repellent snake beneath my muddy boot-heel long since.

Ever the pacifist, Charming Calvin however tries to stay clear of such annoyances; then braces himself as much as he can when the bullets hit. Till today - no doubt a cataclysmic event occurred to break the proverbial camel's back - when he finally decided to take some action the old-school way ( think BC ) by invoking the family gods!

Our inventive Calvin started writing curses on scrolls of lead.

Finally the man reveals his dark side! Endless rage has Calvin baring his hitherto-sheathed claws swearing vengeance using the dark lessons learnt from his coven of Charmed Calvinettes. Not sure if this change of heart is to be blamed on his mother's malevolent influence or that the fault clearly lies at my door.

Have to admit I find this turn of events disturbing in the extreme. To put it plainly, Calvin invoking curses would be akin to me skipping rope with the singing Carebears! Had me wondering whether to be immeasurably proud of his progress ... or endlessly worried! :)

But what the hell, maybe I should bring him live poultry to sacrifice this fall. Curses look so much better written in fowl blood. Perhaps that would be enough to bring the downfall of Cruella.

Foreign Immigration

Let us not quibble over the matter.

It's obvious that the division chief Ahmad Ismail should be hung, drawn and quartered for repeating seditious statements that pertain to the citizenship of the Malaysian Chinese - likening them to filthy off-the-junk immigrants who will never share the rights of the natives! Is it any wonder that the usually reticent Chinese have raised their hackles in protest?


Are we immigrants still after all these years?
How dare he even question it? Do these politicians even stop to think before they speak? Immigrants most of us might have been a century ago but our decades here have certainly proven our loyalty as a citizen of this country.

A mere slap on the wrist could hardly be called a worthy punishment - since no less than immediate exile to a torturous gulag would suffice for such grievous insult! Although no matter what they finally charge him with, hopefully this precedent serves as a deterrent to any political ingenues seeking to rise meteorically in the ranks by uttering such seditious anti-Chinese rhetoric.

But I have to admit my sympathies go out to the racist fella.

Let us not be so naive in thinking that he's the sole bearer of such Malay supremacist sentiments ( such racist embers usually vigorously fanned during political gatherings ). How is he any different from the bigots who'd tell the Chinese to return to their supposed homeland if they don't like the governance of the country? By chance, Ahmad Ismail is just the handy scapegoat who got collared publically! During the political rally where he allegedly made his speech, no doubt he had a large number of ardent supporters - who although they might not have agreed wholeheartedly to his fiery comments - didn't even bother to raise a single whimper of protest.

So these are the people we should fear most - the silent majority easily swayed into such racial prejudices by a select militant few who still hold on to the concept of supreme Malay hegemony - dismissing the other races as mere troublesome squatters in their land to be deported at the government's behest.

Although if they regard the term immigrant to be an insult, I really have to question the intelligence of such bright thinkers.

Seriously. Are there any true natives in the world any more at the moment? Not even the aborigines can claim to have been a native of their lands since before creation! Surely Adam and Eve didn't multiply in an instant simultaneously all across the world so we must all have been immigrants sometime in the past.

It doesn't take a genius. Short of having a family tree that's rooted to one place for literally eons - and obviously interbreeds endlessly producing genetic dead ends - can anyone honestly say they don't have a single immigrant in their ancestry?

Zinedine meets Mr Sandman

The annual monsoon seems to have reached our shores early this year with almost daily torrential downpours! Though it seems as if rain's not the only thing going down these days.

So hold on to your tickets, lucky touts! Sure Zany Zinedine's long ago V-Card wager should have expired months back - with the spring break coming on to mid-autumn - but let's give our bashful first-timer here a break, shall we? Since then he's been busy being the proverbial clubbing socialite - no doubt flitting around town litely clubbing notorious cavemen with his tiara to drag home to his beautifully styled abode.

For endless months, we assumed that his vintage Dior chastity belt would go out of fashion before one of the cavemen mentioned managed to find the precious key. Obviously trying to fit knock-off ( or even worse last season's! ) Prada and Gucci keys wouldn't work on this particular fashionista!

But when Zinedine drunkdialed me this morning to tell me of his happy news, I was the first to erupt with premature congratulations. After all, it's not just every day that one of us loses his V-card! I believe it should be celebrated by Hallmark with special cards and fireworks. Maybe even a dirty birthday cupcake ( with beefcake ornament? ).


Wait a minute. Is that all there is to it?
So I dragged poor Jaunty Jared - along with injured wrist - along for the big reveal!

Where else but Fogal's to seal such a deal? After all with my pent-up sexual frustration, I knew only a sizzling rack would satisfy me once Zinedine spilled.

Paul : So tell me, who is it?
Zinedine : Who is what?
Paul : The lucky fucker? The debaucher? The casanova? The screwdriver?
Zinedine : It was only a dream!
Paul : ....Fuck.

Anticlimactic much?

Turns out Zinedine's gotten so desperate to beat the wager that his hidden psyche has decided to help by making him lose his virginity in a sex-soaked Freudian dream full of tuning forks and screaming divas. Not sure if that actually counts and I was prepared to counter with several objections until Zinedine forestalled me with the shocking identity of the phantom one-night-stand. Seriously. OMFG.

Zinedine has always been unique.

Still, the lunch wasn't a lost cause though. Once Zinedine had heated up the discussion, I caught a distinctly dreamy Jared performing fellatio on a thick unyielding straw. Interesting. That boyfriend of his is one lucky man.

But I bet you're wondering who is Zinedine's lucky Mr Sandman? Well I ain't telling - it's someone we all know! - but you're certainly welcome to make a guess.

All About S & B

Now I know how Nathaniel Archibald feels.

Though I've griped about his moody indecisiveness, I now know how hard it is to choose between two lovers. Especially when they are as different as night and day. Or Serena and Blair.

Or Shanghai or Beijing. Now that's my question.

Wanderlust calls, my feet are itching to move again and the latest travel promotions have gotten me dreaming about my next destination. Seems like ages since I've been out and about in a distant foreign land! Wouldn't want to go too far though since I'm saving for next year - but I wouldn't want to take a short meaningless hop next door as well.

So China seems to be my best bet - and I've narrowed it down to either Shanghai or Beijing.


Time to go a-rambling.
The grande old dame Beijing's a simple enough choice. After all, Charming Calvin's still in the northern capital - certainly a draw factor! Saves a bundle on accomodation that's for sure.

Gotta admit I'm also dying to have another bite of Peking Duck - with possibly another bid to get a cheaper tibetan stool at the Panjiayuan market :) But I've done most of the sights in Beijing, been to all the places I wanna go - and hell, it's only been a year since my last visit!

Far too early for a return visit, right? Especially when I haven't even covered half the places on my blue list.

Hence Shanghai - that modern miss eager to embrace the bourgeois world of commerce and materialism. Been there a couple of years before but it was such a crazy madcap rush with the tour guides that I hardly had any time to appreciate the place. All I recall are shopping temples, shiny towers and chilly boat rides. Still so many places to see, so many things to buy - though honestly I barely even had the time to haggle for prices the last time!

Paul : Ooh, that lamp looks nice.
Shopkeeper : A thousand yuan.
Paul : Two hundred yuan. Take it or leave it.
Shopkeeper : So much ah. How to survive like that, sir? I have children to feed. But today special price for you. Five hundred yuan.
Paul : Two hundred.
Shopkeeper : Aiya! You're killing me here.
Paul : Oh shit. The bus is leaving. Here take your money, you bloodsucker and hand me that lamp.

Half the fun of bargaining is lost, I swear.

And I never had the time to even enjoy their trademark xiaolong pao there! Apart from tossing a few warm ones into a doggie bag before hotfooting back to the tour bus. Somehow it doesn't taste as good when you're struggling to swallow it while being jolted in a speeding bus ( with passengers chattering at the top of their lungs ) down a busy expressway.

Promised myself the next time I'm in Shanghai that I'd take it real slow. More lazy hours at the teahouses rather than being shoved en masse from one temple to another. More hours at the museums rather than squabbling over knockoff designer handbags and cheap tees. More detailed guidebooks rather than guided tours with loud retired holidaymakers.

Thanks to the wonders of the internet, even found this wonderful quaint hotel similar to the establishment we stayed in back in Tianjin. Coincidentally even shared the same name, Ascot House Hotel. Sure the building's a tad rundown and the service reputedly sucks but can anything compete with that old-world atmosphere!