Sunday, April 23, 2006

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Tuesday, February 28, 2006

My HNT's For Rogue 2006

I first joined the HNT madness in August 2005. Here are links to some that I chose to highlight for the Rogue 2006... at least for this week. I'll be posting a couple of others for next week's edition of HNT @ the Rogue.

Now click on the links to see each of the submissions presented.

Feel free to comment!

MY FIRST HNT was a simple post of a picture that was accompanied by a story.

HNT # 4 was based on the same concept but the story got more elaborate.

A COUPLE OF WEEKS later and I began getting a little creative.

With HNT NOIR I began treating HNT as a form of blog theatre.

HALF- NEKKID CHEF was the first that included a recorded soundtrack.

On the 9th and 10th you will get to see the HNT Epics that I created.

Happy HNT @ the Rogue!

My first Half-Nekkid Thursday

Let me introduce you to Jimmy. Jimmy is my left hand. Jimmy was a victim of Mr. Polio when I was 4 and a half months old. Actually, half my body was affected but Mr. Polio only left one defect... Jimmy. It was my parents who named him. (The right hand is Audrey.) I have other body parts with names butthatsanotherstorynevermindanyway... I thought Jimmy was the perfect subject for my first Half-Nikked Thursday.

Over the years Jimmy and I have heard it all: cripple, one-arm bandit, handicap, disabled, etc. I prefer "inconvenienced." It seems a lot more appropriate ... at least for me. Thanks to my upbringing my parents set me on the path of independence from the "git go." For this I thank them.

Most people who meet me hardly notice Jimmy... and when they do they are all beside themselves apologizing for not noticing in the first place. It usually happens when Jimmy takes on a strange pose (like in the picture) and they freak. Then they suddenly look at Audrey and the obvious difference in size and ability between the 2 hands.

Most Popular Question: Can he feel anything?
Answer: You Betcha!

Over the years I have noticed that beautiful women like to hold, fondle and play with Jimmy. Jimmy has been a wonderful asset... and not just with the women. Jimmy has allowed me to explore abilities that I may not have considered if I was completely able-bodied. I sometimes say "If you want to find the easy way to do something... just ask the cripple guy."

Half-Nekkid Thursday #4

My last 3 posts included pics and stories of Jimmy, Audrey and Stan. Don't have a name for my bloodshot left eye.

Right now, most of you are jumping to the obvious conclusions as to why my eyes are bloodshot. My eyes have been bloodshot since I was 10 years old. This was the result of swimming. Swimming in chlorinated pools. Swimming in the sea. Swimming in jungle streams.

In fact, many a birthday as a boy in Malaysia was spent swimming in jungle streams. Most kids had birthday parties - I had birthday picnics in the jungle with my friends. My parents would pack up us kids (friends and cousins) into a couple of cars and drive out into the jungle outside the city.

Getting there was half the fun. A hard left off the main highway, there would be a dirt road that veered into the jungle for about half a mile. When the dirt road ended, we tumbled out of the car and hiked in several hundred yards heading toward the sound of a jungle stream. Monkeys would be jibber-jabbering in the trees as we hurried down the jungle path. The closer we got, the louder the sound of the stream... the less jibbering of monkeys.

Finally, the thick jungle around us would magically seem to open up on our intended destination. A picnic spot would be picked on the banks. Mats spread and us kids excitedly jumped into the cold clear waters to frolic. My father would always caution us with the same instructions. "If you need to kenching (pee) go downstream... don't do it in the jungle." If one of my not-yet-hip-to-the-jungle friends would quizz "Why not the jungle?", my father would launch into a gentle lecture about "respecting the spirits." This would instantly ignite a barrage of "What spirits? Why?" among the kids. His eyes would twinkle and with a sly smile he would say, "I'll tell you after lunch." He always kept his word.

Food was usually of the street variety. Nasi Lemak, coconut rice topped with cucumber, eggs and a good hot sambal, served on a banana leaf. Drinks - iced home-made lime juice. Papaya with a squeeze of lime for dessert.

After lunch and tired after swimming, we would lay on the mats under the shade. My father would then tell us about how each living thing had a spirit living in it. That if you did not respect the trees and the rocks and the jungle you were being disrespectful to the spirits... and you would have to pay. This was usually his cue to dive into a couple of jungle "ghost stories" that would scare us even on a sunny afternoon.

These excursions would usually begin at about 9 in the morning and we would leave the jungle by 3 in the afternoon. The cars driving back usually packed with sleepy tired children. I onced asked my mother what inspired them to organize these birthday picnics. "Economics.", she would say quite simply. "None of those birthday picnics cost your father and me more than 50 ringgit."

And the bloodshot eyes? Our family doctor informed me years later that it was a part of a protective coating developed naturally to protect my eyes from the different waters I swam in as a kid. The salt of the sea, the chlorine of the swimming pools and the minerals plus some animal pee in the jungle streams. Someone should have told them where to kenching.
HNT with Shades, Cigs, F-M Shorts on Asphalt

I was somewhat at a loss this week as to what I would post for HNT. The only Monty Python song I had left to use was "Every Sperm Is Sacred" ... and that would be a challenging one to keep tasteful. (but if you really need a song to read the rest of this... click the link.) So, I thought I'd go a different route. Pulled my hair back. Whipped out the camera and this is what I got today. Some are just titles... some have stories... sort of.


An old habit that I'm trying to break. I am making headway though... but it's a bitch. And I'll probably be a big one once I completely give it up.

The shadow does look like a smokin stork, doesn't it?


These shorts were given to me by my cousin KN who was on the Malaysian Field Hockey Team in the 1984 LA Olympics. In fact, he gave them to me after the games when he came to visit.

He told me. "Wear them well... I've scored winning goals in them." I can personally attest to that as I did go down to LA to watch him play. Over the years, I've also discovered that the "winning goals" he scored were not limited to field hockey.

There is something about that particular pair of shorts. They have certainly earned their moniker. Enuff said. I don't wear them anymore. Perhaps that's just as well... especially for this post.


To enjoy the full effect of this you need to:
1. Click the music on.
2. Read the post out loud in a detective noir style. Guys try your best Humphry Bogart, ladies... try your best sulty Kathleen Turner.

If it doesn't play "click here. A new window will open for the music.

It was one of those late Summer afternoons when the mating habits of flies on a crusty canine turd seemed like the only game worth laying bets on. The only thing on my pith encased mind was a HNT post that was due and I didn't have a doodle of an idea what slimy form this week would take.

I was sippin a vodka mango between puffs of a coffin nail when I eyeballed her slow, swaying bounce saunter up my driveway. She was built like a guitar waiting to be strummed by a one handed gypsy who worked nights in a piston factory. The curvy shadow at the door knocked twice and let herself in.
"I want in on this HNT thing." she purred from her smoky lips. The moment I heard that I knew this "demando doll" was more trouble with a capital T and looking for more.

"Not so fast, sweet cheeks. What makes you think I have any idea what you're talking about?" She sat down and the surly upturned curve from the corners her ruby pucker suckers told me she knew. She grabbed one of my Javanese shadow puppets and toyed with it like a blind rabbit playing a skunk in heat.

"I've seen your "thang" on Osbasso's list."

"My thang?"

"On Osbasso's list. I want in."

She of course was talking about that Maverick from Montana who ran the slickest skin sensation this side of Harry Connick's junior. She knew that I knew that she had me by the curly-q-fries in hot boiling lard but I still wasn't gonna roll over like a five dollar hooker with a ten dollar habit.

"O.K. suger thighs, what do you have to show for it?"

She whipped off her silky pink blouse like a Siamese schucking mangos on the Mekong.

"How about these?" she teased, working the smoke maker between her fingers like a busty latina rolling the tightest chimichanga in a 99 cent border cantina. "I want to see what you got to show, big boy... and I want it in color!"

I warned her, "It's long and it's dark."

"Go ahead. I like being scared." she mocked.

I took it off and let it down. I turned to look and her full rubies quivered like a bowl of jello in an old folks home. She thought I was some surburban palooka with a hankering for a champagne colored SUV but found an orangutan in 501's instead.

All she could say was, "What conditioner do you use?" It was over and she broke.

But her breaking broke me. This old boy scout was about to learn some new knots to tie and some new tents to pup.

When it was over we were done and the score was even. She walked away into the evening leaving this shmoe wanting for more. So, it goes. It's a crazy business but someones got to do it. As she faded off down the driveway I heard her say, "Happy HNT, hair man."

Special thanks to my friend Dragonfly for joining me this week.

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Ah, welcome... welcome to ze Half-Nekkid Chef.

Today, we will demonstrate how to prepare a staple of ze malay world... ze Hot Chillie Curry Number 1! Your humble Half-Nekkid Chef has it on good authority that sharing zis dish with someone you love will also heat things up in ze budoir, no? After all, they say... curry eaters make hot lovers! Hoaw, hoaw, hoaw!

Lets get down to ze business then. These are ze ingredients you will need prepare:
  • 1 succulent chicken cut into edible pieces. Le Half-Nekkid Chef also likes using a pound of chicken thighs cut in half for a quickee version instead of ze whole chicken.
  • 2 russet potatoes diced big.
  • 1 red tomato quartered.
  • 1 big red onion sliced thick.
  • 1 cup coconut milk... 1 part thick coconut milk mixed with 1 part water.
  • 1 tablespoon ground cumin.
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves.
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon.
  • 5 fresh chilies sliced... or if you have ground fresh chillie... 1 tablespoon is good.
  • 3 tablespoons cooking oil.
  • 1 lime cut in half and ready to squeeze.
  • salt to taste.
Now that we have everything prepared... let us begin, shall we?

First we heat the oil in a pot. Zhen we put in and season ze sliced onion and chillie until it is half limp. Throw in ze chicken and season it for about a minute. Sprinkle in ze cumin, cloves and cinnimon and keep stirring everything for another minute until ze fragrance begins to rise your love temperature.

You will now put in the potatoes and ze tomatoes... stir it in and pour in ze milk of ze coconut. Bring it to a boil. Once at a boil sprinkle salt to taste zen simmer for about 15 to 20 minutes or until ze potatoes are done. While waiting, call your lover and invite them for ze Half-Nekkid dinner. "Allo Cherie... you want to eat?"

In 20 minutes you squeeze ze lime, turn off the heat and turn on ze love.

This should be served over rice and complemented with a cucumber salad. Ze food, I mean... the love can be served anywhere.

Thanks to FINGERS-B for the help with this HNT.
If you try out the recipe... drop a comment by sometime and tell me how it went!
Cheers and Happy HNT, mon ami!