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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMBQX8yfCp7ImA9WhRUF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118</id><updated>2012-01-27T22:34:10.194-08:00</updated><category term="Facts of life" /><category term="Quotes" /><category term="Wishes" /><category term="Tales From My Students" /><category term="Stages In Life" /><category term="My Awards" /><category term="My Award" /><category term="Strange tale" /><category term="Mummy tale" /><category term="What's cooking" /><category term="Tell tale bout me" /><category term="Animal tale" /><category term="Humor tales" /><category term="New Me" /><category term="Funny pet video" /><category term="Special tale" /><category term="Dating Tale" /><category term="Cute bird video" /><category term="Funny tale" /><category term="Plants tale" /><category term="True tale" /><category term="Spooky tale" /><category term="Places" /><category term="Ang Pau" /><category term="Tell tale" /><category term="Life after school" /><category term="Little Miracles" /><category term="Creativity Tale" /><category term="6S tale" /><category term="Cookies" /><title>Krazy Monkey Tale</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>231</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/KrazyMonkeyTale" /><feedburner:info uri="krazymonkeytale" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EDRn46fip7ImA9WhRUFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-1053936046727573489</id><published>2012-01-24T20:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T21:34:37.016-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-24T21:34:37.016-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ang Pau" /><title>To Give Or Not To Give</title><content type="html">As we all know Chinese all over the world are celebrating Chinese New Year now which will last for fifteen days. Married couples are required to give "Ang Pau" (red packet with money in it) to others who are single during these fifteen days. Bosses too gives "Ang Pau" to workers etc. Single folks, customary, do not give Ang Pau to others. I have absolutely no problem with this but one small hiccup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime single folks who are about my age or older than me would appear and I am not sure if I should give that person an Ang Pau. Felt kinda awkward to give and not sure if they would feel offended to received.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would normally give to those who are single but younger than me. I have distance relatives, quite a few actually, who are still single and no intention of getting marry, ever. There was a time, I heard a little child asking her mom how come that particular auntie didn't give her an Ang Pau because that aunt look old enough to start giving.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are also those that grow up with me and never got married and every year when I gave out And Pau to nieces and nephews and children and have to give him one, he receives unpleasantly. Maybe because I am only two years his senior and had been giving him Ang Pau for almost twenty years now. Hmmm wonder if I should stop giving him or continue and pretend that it is not a big deal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only we could exchange gift like Christmas instead of giving Ang Pau, then awkward moments like these would never appear but then again, our tradition will be loss for ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Chinese New Year to all and thanks for reading. By the way, do you have any awkward moments that you would like to share?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-1053936046727573489?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Gh6Gi4kpyKNOQBcvPyKaiZVgZhY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Gh6Gi4kpyKNOQBcvPyKaiZVgZhY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1053936046727573489/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=1053936046727573489&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/1053936046727573489?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/1053936046727573489?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/3OuuK5fi0tk/to-give-or-not-to-give.html" title="To Give Or Not To Give" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2012/01/to-give-or-not-to-give.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUDRHs7eyp7ImA9WhRVFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-7370614030896522087</id><published>2012-01-15T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T16:04:35.503-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-15T16:04:35.503-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tell tale" /><title>Superstitious or Religious</title><content type="html">Chinese New Year is just a few days away. Had just finished cleaning up the house, put up clean curtains etc, bought some cookies, dress up my plants with some bling bling, got new clothes for everyone and still felt like I had missed something. In actual fact, for those who are superstitious, there are more things to prepare. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grow up with a mom who constantly remind my grandma (her mom) what is superstitious and what is religious and certain things are a waste of money and time. Grandma however, would never listen and continue with what she was taught or should I say, traditions brought down from generations to generations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year grandma would buy new sets of bowls, plates, spoons and chopsticks to be used on the eve during reunion dinner. That's why we have lots and lots of it. A new broom is a must too. There are certain food that is compulsory on eve's reunion dinner.  Mom would complain of the excessive food as there were only four of us and we don't eat so much and mom don't really like having left overs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I got married, it is compulsory to have the reunion dinner with my in-laws. My mother-in-law have her superstitious too like not to used anything sharp like knife or scissors on the first day of Chinese New Year. So after a hard days work, cooking for so many of us on the eve, after we had clean up, she would start cutting food, preparing for tomorrow's three meals because she don't want to use the knife on the first day of Chinese New Year. There are certain things that should not be cut before cooking but she would not listen. She had to tired herself and make sure she cuts everything before the clock turn 12 midnight. This is more scary then horror movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For most Chinese, they believe that they should not sweep the floor on the first day of Chinese New Year for fear one would swept away all the luck of that year. I remembered there was one year when mom found the floor dirty on the first day and she went and mop the floor, granny was upset. Mom jokingly told grandma that she didn't sweep the floor, technically mopping is not sweeping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess since my mom's generation, most of us had broke the superstitious rule. I, too don't believe in all these but in order to respect my elders, it is best I kept all this inside since it is very hard to change something that they thought were good for them or the right thing to do and had been practicing for years.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for reading and Happy Chinese New Year to all who celebrates. Are you superstitious too?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-7370614030896522087?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/og775__vamakZLypXyc1OYS6Z6c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/og775__vamakZLypXyc1OYS6Z6c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/2667088298188082039/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=2667088298188082039&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/2667088298188082039?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/2667088298188082039?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/W9_49BWCYTM/my-pampered-cat.html" title="My Pampered Cat" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JQTc-G0jwpA/Tw4acTDpLTI/AAAAAAAAAvA/vF3pgpvN1uw/s72-c/cat2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-pampered-cat.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cBQn05fip7ImA9WhRWGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-1814555339670262739</id><published>2012-01-07T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T18:50:53.326-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-07T18:50:53.326-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Humor tales" /><title>Car Accident (funny)</title><content type="html">A man was trying out of a parking lot when he bounced the bumper of a car parked in front of him. This was witnessed by a small group of pedestrians waiting for the bus. The driver got out and inspected the damage, and proceeded to write a note to leave on the windscreen of the car he hit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The note said: "Hello sir / madam, whichever the case may be. I have just hit your car and there are some people watching me and they think that I am writing this note to leave you my name, phone number and address. But I am not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Who Is Younger&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a recent class, a member of the class mentioned he has two children. The facilitator asked, "How old are they?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eleven and nine." The facilitator asked, "Two boys or two girls?" He replied, "One of each." "Which one is the younger?" "The nine-year old," was the reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for laughs! Thanks for reading. Hope I get to blog more in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-1814555339670262739?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rtscFHvWiLmWqe_gO28djEip3jE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rtscFHvWiLmWqe_gO28djEip3jE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1814555339670262739/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=1814555339670262739&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/1814555339670262739?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/1814555339670262739?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/AinPE2xz948/car-accident-funny.html" title="Car Accident (funny)" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2012/01/car-accident-funny.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQNQ38-eCp7ImA9WhRWE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-3596958387165914705</id><published>2011-12-30T19:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T20:06:32.150-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-30T20:06:32.150-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Wishes" /><title>Another Wonderful Year</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I wrote down "Happy" They told me I didn't understand the assignment, and I told them they didn't understand life"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;- John Lennon&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On birthdays, we wish Happy Birthday and on other festivals too, we wish others by adding the word "Happy" in front. All these words were invented long time ago, meaning that folks during those days already knew Happiness is very important. people still know that happiness is important but most of the time forget how to be happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I take this opportunity to wish all a Happy New Year! Hope this year was a wonderful year for you and next year even a better year for all. Delete all the bad memories or worries, erase all unhappy thoughts that bring miseries and focus on how to make yourself happy for the whole of next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for reading! Stay healthy and happy always!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-3596958387165914705?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/utD4O5nrS_JKsDO_9P-St__Vrlo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/utD4O5nrS_JKsDO_9P-St__Vrlo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/3596958387165914705/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=3596958387165914705&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/3596958387165914705?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/3596958387165914705?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/OsozdUQMvqU/another-wonderful-year.html" title="Another Wonderful Year" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/12/another-wonderful-year.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMFRXk8eCp7ImA9WhRXGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-8054640191316693397</id><published>2011-12-27T05:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T06:00:14.770-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-27T06:00:14.770-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="What's cooking" /><title>French Toast</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZX0XiR0_1xY/TvnMk6DYgJI/AAAAAAAAAt0/wd2AC9Lmff0/s1600/t5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZX0XiR0_1xY/TvnMk6DYgJI/AAAAAAAAAt0/wd2AC9Lmff0/s320/t5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690804538590134418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a while since we made this. Last week we saw on t.v some people introducing food from coffee shops and one of the popular breakfast is this. Yummy but a bit oily and rich too. Well, eating this once in a while wouldn't hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sandwich two breads with butter and cheese, some with peanut butter and banana, some with butter and jam. Soak the sandwich into the beaten eggs that had been mixed with milk and a pinch of salt and fried them in butter. Yes, yes I know that it is a bit oily but it is sooooo tasty.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Droooooling already. So when was the last time you had French toast? We don't eat this very often because of so much work involved and fattening too. Normal days were just bread and jam etc no frying etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for visiting. Hope you enjoy cooking too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-8054640191316693397?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jBIKKFJUlOXm-URzeJmxmqiNKa0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jBIKKFJUlOXm-URzeJmxmqiNKa0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8054640191316693397/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=8054640191316693397&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8054640191316693397?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8054640191316693397?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/n-URraUFmcY/french-toast.html" title="French Toast" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZX0XiR0_1xY/TvnMk6DYgJI/AAAAAAAAAt0/wd2AC9Lmff0/s72-c/t5.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/12/french-toast.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4BRno-fCp7ImA9WhRXFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-1467170455012229932</id><published>2011-12-23T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T19:55:57.454-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-23T19:55:57.454-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Humor tales" /><title>A Christmas Joke</title><content type="html">A Russian couple was walking down the street in St. Petersburg the other night, when the man felt a drop hit his nose. "I think it's raining," he said to his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, that felt more like snow to me," she replied. "No, I'm sure it was just rain, he said." Well, as these things go, they were about to have a major argument about whether it was raining or snowing. Just then they saw a minor communist party official walking toward them. "Let's not fight about it," the man said, "let's ask Comrade Rudolph whether it's officially raining or snowing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the official approached, the man said, "Tell us, Comrade Rudolph, is it officially raining or snowing?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's raining, of course," he answered and walked on. But the woman insisted: "I know that felt like snow!" To which the man quietly replied: "Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for laughs! Merry Christmas to all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-1467170455012229932?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dFCdHAcMt2c4jPg9y4QjTze9K58/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dFCdHAcMt2c4jPg9y4QjTze9K58/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1467170455012229932/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=1467170455012229932&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/1467170455012229932?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/1467170455012229932?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/NsNsG_lI-8k/christmas-joke.html" title="A Christmas Joke" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-joke.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEANQXk_eCp7ImA9WhRXE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-7227548236826146707</id><published>2011-12-20T06:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T06:53:10.740-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-20T06:53:10.740-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Plants tale" /><title>Brinjal / Aubergine / Eggplant</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AqvaCqzalG4/TvCbnOBPw6I/AAAAAAAAAtk/KdC5YoWG8VI/s1600/brinjol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AqvaCqzalG4/TvCbnOBPw6I/AAAAAAAAAtk/KdC5YoWG8VI/s320/brinjol.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688217427449463714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in school, my teacher told me this is brinjal. Later when I was working, cook show said this is eggplant. When my son starts school, this is already known as aubergine. Wonder why so many names for this particular plant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A neighbor gave hubby a packet of seeds. He planted the whole packet of seeds which is about hundreds of seeds in there. Out of the hundreds, only one plant survive. It has been blooming none stop, but most of the flowers didn't turn out to be eggplant. A few did but drop before it starts to grow except for this one and only one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess now all we could do is wait for it to turn purple. Can't wait. Now I get how farmers feel. Must be frustrating at times. It has to depend on the weather, soil, pest etc. Farmers must be patience folks. I sincerely thank all the farmers around the world from the bottom of my heart. Thank you, thank you and thank you. Without you I wouldn't be having vegetables on my table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for reading and happy gardening to you too. Now when I eat my vegetables, I think of the farmers and are really grateful of their hard work. Thank you again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-7227548236826146707?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fix5Z30a_2LIDNJlUQCIX7uUhCU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fix5Z30a_2LIDNJlUQCIX7uUhCU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7227548236826146707/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=7227548236826146707&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/7227548236826146707?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/7227548236826146707?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/rHaCGhQPxEM/brinjal-aubergine-eggplant.html" title="Brinjal / Aubergine / Eggplant" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AqvaCqzalG4/TvCbnOBPw6I/AAAAAAAAAtk/KdC5YoWG8VI/s72-c/brinjol.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/12/brinjal-aubergine-eggplant.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UDQ38_cCp7ImA9WhRQGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-5911326305235662290</id><published>2011-12-13T23:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T23:54:32.148-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-13T23:54:32.148-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mummy tale" /><title>What's Your Reason For Having Children</title><content type="html">Someone once said that the more children he have the better, because in case one child didn't make it in the world and can't afford to take care of him, he still have others to rely on. Sounds like buying lotteries to me. The more you buy the higher your chance of winning. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is his prediction of the future, but what about bringing them up, now, financially and fizically. Is&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt; he and his wife capable of doing it? There was this documentary about a Chinese couple in Malaysia, who have fifteen children all together. They kept getting pregnant until her body says other wise and end up with so many children. The man have the same thought too. The more the better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;They live in a small wooden hut and only the husband is working on odd jobs which doesn't pay much and most of the time they live on sweet potatoes and vegetables that they plant outside their house. The man said that his eldest daughter is in her teens and will be getting a job soon to support the family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;I find these rather disturbing. How could a dad asked his daughter to help bring up his children. Then when she grows up, she might fall in love, get married and need to take care of her own family too. Then what. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;Yesterday one of my student told me that after form five, he will not be going to college because his mum asked him to find a job fast so that he can help bring up his three younger brother and sister. I wonder how many more family have such thinking too. He also mentioned that actually his parents decided to have him as an only child. By the time he reached ten years old, he wanted someone to play with and asked for brother and sister. His mum then gave birth to a boy and one year after that a pair of twin sister. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;By telling him this story does it mean his parents have made it his fault that they have four children now and due to age factor they are retiring soon and the eldest have to support his siblings. Sounds pathetic to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;Thanks for reading. I just want to get this of my chest. So, what's your story for having kids? Accidently, deliberately or just want to start a family and upgrade yourself to become a mum or dad, just like me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-5911326305235662290?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5ddQY1SLT-zwsfmoK769efgLxk8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5ddQY1SLT-zwsfmoK769efgLxk8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/5911326305235662290/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=5911326305235662290&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/5911326305235662290?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/5911326305235662290?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/shX1bGE5VLw/whats-your-reason-for-having-children.html" title="What's Your Reason For Having Children" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/12/whats-your-reason-for-having-children.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QEQH4ycCp7ImA9WhRQE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-656165011672812791</id><published>2011-12-08T03:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-08T03:55:01.098-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-08T03:55:01.098-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tell tale" /><title>Grumpy Grandma</title><content type="html">I used to think that grandparents are the most fantastic people on Earth. Not sure about you but I indeed got a loving grandma who pampered me and my sister more than my parents. A neighbor of mine, who lives behind my house, is a very grumpy grandma. Those days when I just moved in to the neighborhood, I rarely hear her yell. Now a days since she had to take care of her grandchild, I could hear her yell almost everyday. It is either "Don't touch that", "Why can't you just sit still", "Told you not to ...." etc.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The child could hardly speak a full sentences, my guess is she could only be around two to three years of age. Poor child. I, felt like the child is in prison. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having children around is like having pets. Have to keep them occupied. If not they would ransack the whole house. I am sure those with children or pets will agree with me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to collect McDonald Happy meals toys for my sons when they were young. On birthdays, I would pampered them with more toys, educational toys or toys that would keep them busy for a while. To me Lego and Hot Wheel is a must. My sons love cars, guess most boys do. So with a set of Hot Wheel, they need time to assemble the tracks etc and they could play for hours. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone taught me to keep all toys in two or three separate boxes. Let them play with only one box of toys and hide the others. After a week or so, they get bored, hide the first box and let them play with toys in the second box. Works for me, all the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So when they are busy with their toys, I could at least have some time to do housework and they don't even bother to touch my stuffs. When they are busy, I am busy and less or zero yelling which makes them happy children and most important me a happy mommy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometime I wanted so much to tell my neighbor about what had worked for me in the past but then on second thought she might think that I am teaching an old lady with few grown up children how to be a mom again? Better keep my thoughts to myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy reading and hope you are a happy parent too. Happy parenting to your children and pets. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-656165011672812791?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dg3znAKKTx8y5nqk2f1nmXW-iII/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dg3znAKKTx8y5nqk2f1nmXW-iII/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/656165011672812791/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=656165011672812791&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/656165011672812791?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/656165011672812791?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/KlFN_I548uw/grumpy-grandma.html" title="Grumpy Grandma" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/12/grumpy-grandma.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQMQH48eip7ImA9WhRRF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-1952816325768452976</id><published>2011-11-30T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T16:46:21.072-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-30T16:46:21.072-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Humor tales" /><title>Media - jokes</title><content type="html">On a political rally, Simon was arrested. Why???? A woman journalist was walking around with a badge that said "Press", so he did. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Old And Still Going Strong&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My granduncle is eighty and still doesn't need glasses. He drinks straight out of the bottle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sign At A Barber's Salon&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"We Need Your Heads To Run Our Business."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sign In A Bar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Those Of You Who Are Drinking To Forget, Please Pay In Advance."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just for laughs! Hope you find this amusing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-1952816325768452976?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OrtYNqSoGQB0LbLvB6UPnIQK_Mk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OrtYNqSoGQB0LbLvB6UPnIQK_Mk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1952816325768452976/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=1952816325768452976&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/1952816325768452976?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/1952816325768452976?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/nFfpgiVMbKc/media-jokes.html" title="Media - jokes" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/11/media-jokes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMESXcyfyp7ImA9WhRRFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-9046971423755114410</id><published>2011-11-27T06:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T07:06:48.997-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-27T07:06:48.997-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Animal tale" /><title>Rusty The New Cat</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g2g7GjYn3gU/TtJHYMBLMSI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/upgeUs-dA0o/s1600/rus2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g2g7GjYn3gU/TtJHYMBLMSI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/upgeUs-dA0o/s320/rus2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679680560936202530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ji2fr15FoMg/TtJHYK9GQAI/AAAAAAAAAtI/gk6jt5Htmt4/s1600/rus1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ji2fr15FoMg/TtJHYK9GQAI/AAAAAAAAAtI/gk6jt5Htmt4/s320/rus1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679680560650665986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;New addition to our family. He adopted us instead of the other way round. Remember my earlier post about Kiko, the orphan kitten that we adopted, or should I say found at the school science lab. We had him for only a short period of time and he died in a freak accident. So sad.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That unfortunate day, like usual after feeding him, I would let him out of the cage and allow him to run loose around the house. He would normally stay close to one of us. My neighbor asked me to go over her house at that moment and I asked my two teenage sons to look after Kiko. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My eldest son was playing some video game on a rocking chair in the hall and my youngest went to the kitchen to have a glass of water. My eldest son got excited playing his game that he forgot the tiny kitten was very near his leg. He jumped out of the chair, gave a good kick and Kiko died on the spot. Three of us just froze for a minute, went pale and really got a shock of our life when watching Kiko vomited blood all over the floor. Everything happen so fast. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After a minute or so, we came to our senses and wrap him in a towel, put him in a box and drove to the vet. The Doctor said it is too late. Kiko died of shock. We buried him in the garden that day. R.I.P Kiko. Well, it is nobody's fault, guess we were not used to such a tiny creature living with us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later I suggested that maybe we should get another cat but my eldest son still have not got over the incident said better not, so soon. So we decided to feed stray cats with the balance food that we have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About a week ago, this handsome cat was wondering in the garden. I send my eldest son out the garden to feed my rabbit and there it was, staring back at my son with such lovely pampered meows. My son went and took those cat food and fed him and from that moment on, he kinda stick with us. We decided to name him Rusty, my sons idea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first thing when he entered the house, he went straight for the mat and rolled all over. Oh my, making himself at home. He looks healthy, well fed and loves human. I suspect he could be someone's cat. At night we had him sleep outside for fear he would ransack the house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He would disappear every now and then but will always return for his meals and love to sleep on the mat for hours. Lately we taught him how to sit on request and high five with his paw, with treats of course and he is a fast learner. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess everything happens for a reason. With cats around the house, we google more about cats now a days and even learned ways to teach him tricks via you-tube. Perhaps all these are to train and prepare us indirectly for a pet dog in a year or two. I would like to think of all these happenings as my little miracle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy reading about my little miracles and enjoy having pets too, as much as I do. May this be our second cat, as we, I, had never had a pet cat or dog when young because my mom dislike animals. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-9046971423755114410?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k58NXwBrFrIeG-bvgl2p_XzXlcA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k58NXwBrFrIeG-bvgl2p_XzXlcA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/9046971423755114410/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=9046971423755114410&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/9046971423755114410?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/9046971423755114410?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/QENnqeNMNvs/rusty-new-cat.html" title="Rusty The New Cat" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g2g7GjYn3gU/TtJHYMBLMSI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/upgeUs-dA0o/s72-c/rus2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/11/rusty-new-cat.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UCRXsyfCp7ImA9WhRSGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-2017092522346006644</id><published>2011-11-21T19:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T20:14:24.594-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-21T20:14:24.594-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tell tale bout me" /><title>Through Thick And Thin</title><content type="html">My washing machine broke down in the mid of washing. I have to hand wash all those clothes that was already soak in soap in the machine. Almost forgot how to hand wash clothes. Oh my, it had been that long? As I was washing, memories of hand washing clothes and my school shoes etc came back. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I only have one sister which is two years my junior. I and my sister are really closed those days. We do not have a washing machine then, so everything had to be hand wash. We make sure we do our washing together so that we could chat in the bathroom while washing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Those were some of the fun time we had. No computer, internet, handphone etc, just me and her. We would be scrubbing those clothes and giggling and chatting and rinsing and laughing and we had so much to talk about, non stop, one topic after another. My grandma used to laugh at us. She used to say "You two seems to have so much to talk about all the time, can't seem to run out of things to say."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When both of us were in our early twenties, we were almost the same height and size. We were living with mum and grandma until we got married. When we get our salary, both of us would go shopping together. We would share clothes, bags etc those days. All our clothes etc when we mix and match, could go round for a month not wearing the same thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now since both of us were married and living quite a distance, about half an hour drive away, we have very little time to chat. She with her career, children, family etc and I with mine. We get to meet up less than ten times in a year but when we do meet up or phone each other, we still could not stop talking. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The best part is when ever we got promoted, a raise, something happy or sad to share we will definitely call each other and update. Even when her son dropped from the monkey bar and broke his arm, she would called me, sobbing. She knows I will be there listening, consoling and advising and vise versa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading and hope you have a great relationship with your brother and sister too. Family members are very important.  Even if you are the only child, you could still have a best friend or cousins that will stick to you through thick and thin. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-2017092522346006644?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/loxBAr_o0YmeP37jGoZE8Jtr7_Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/loxBAr_o0YmeP37jGoZE8Jtr7_Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/2017092522346006644/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=2017092522346006644&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/2017092522346006644?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/2017092522346006644?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/eGdxoYymvDE/through-thick-and-thin.html" title="Through Thick And Thin" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/11/through-thick-and-thin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IHRX0-cCp7ImA9WhRSFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-8041362474734070688</id><published>2011-11-18T00:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T01:45:34.358-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-18T01:45:34.358-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Places" /><title>Park For Dogs And Human</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-75QISQ6JMEU/TsYiRuSLqFI/AAAAAAAAAs0/xdlu1Zi_N-Y/s1600/park1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-75QISQ6JMEU/TsYiRuSLqFI/AAAAAAAAAs0/xdlu1Zi_N-Y/s320/park1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676262068224501842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Every weekend when we are free, me , hubby and my sons would go for a walk at parks around my place. This is Desa City Park. One of the park that allows dogs. Most park around my place strictly prohibits pets. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pOV6Mtoawnc/TsYiRZwPtAI/AAAAAAAAAss/0oZ3saD6bvU/s1600/park2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pOV6Mtoawnc/TsYiRZwPtAI/AAAAAAAAAss/0oZ3saD6bvU/s320/park2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676262062713451522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They have a huge lake in the middle with lots of colorful Koi fishes. Those fishes are really really big. Some people would just sit there and watch those fishes. Some even feed them when there is a sign saying to feeding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1uIPUv9AYyQ/TsYiRNG8uuI/AAAAAAAAAsg/bo5DdE8NOr4/s1600/park3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1uIPUv9AYyQ/TsYiRNG8uuI/AAAAAAAAAsg/bo5DdE8NOr4/s320/park3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676262059319016162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By the side there is a small man made stream with lovely rocks. Isn't this lovely. Much better then my morning walk around my neighborhood. At least, this is much more pleasant to the eyes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ioDmM0GSTno/TsYekkI5bWI/AAAAAAAAAro/--5Sg5ny_hc/s1600/park4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ioDmM0GSTno/TsYekkI5bWI/AAAAAAAAAro/--5Sg5ny_hc/s320/park4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676257993872207202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Look how wide the place is. It is in the middle of some housing area. At the side of the park there are restaurants, a pet shop and a supermarket. Sometime we have our dinner here after our walk. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IUSdCrSdUaA/TsYejjsZcLI/AAAAAAAAArg/Va_qRpV8cl4/s1600/park5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IUSdCrSdUaA/TsYejjsZcLI/AAAAAAAAArg/Va_qRpV8cl4/s320/park5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676257976572801202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dog meet dog at park. I find most of the dogs found walking at this park are pedigrees. Have yet to see a mix breed. Perhaps I should be the first to bring a mix breed. My youngest son had been bugging us to have our first pet dog. He wanted a Husky. We told him for the time being we could only  go and watch the dogs at this park. We will have a dog but not now.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ws6_1J_jw4Y/TsYejSiaYiI/AAAAAAAAArM/w2wXC0szvfg/s1600/paek6.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ws6_1J_jw4Y/TsYejSiaYiI/AAAAAAAAArM/w2wXC0szvfg/s320/paek6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676257971967517218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This lady here is like a god mother to all the dogs around the park. She and her hubby would walk the park one full cycle and then she would sit at a corner with her stool and bags of dog treats. I notice, those regulars who walk their dogs, when the dog reach this lady all would stop and go near her for food before they continue their walk. She carries a container fill with dog treats. So many without dogs would approached her and ask for permission to take photos with her huge Chow Chow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s9ACaGLsdE4/TsYei4BYz5I/AAAAAAAAArE/G2OGcPSQNQ4/s1600/paek7.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s9ACaGLsdE4/TsYei4BYz5I/AAAAAAAAArE/G2OGcPSQNQ4/s320/paek7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676257964849680274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Besides dogs, there are lots of children cycling, playing with dogs and adults too having a good time away from work and their normal busy life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g2LcyZAJySg/TsYeitxOvvI/AAAAAAAAAq4/cOxLdwoLNno/s1600/park8.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g2LcyZAJySg/TsYeitxOvvI/AAAAAAAAAq4/cOxLdwoLNno/s320/park8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676257962097557234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Isn't this a lovely sight, dogs and humans socializing, strangers become friends and eventually will become a great big dog owner family. Perhaps one fine day I might get a dog and join this big family. Yet to come across a cat park. Guess no one walks their cats, right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading. Hope you have a great dog park at your place too. Even though I have yet to own a dog but feels really happy walking around the park looking at dogs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-8041362474734070688?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DdFqGJLhE05NPUDoM4FZMpdbsgc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DdFqGJLhE05NPUDoM4FZMpdbsgc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8041362474734070688/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=8041362474734070688&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8041362474734070688?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8041362474734070688?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/L5nEt_FuNlA/park-for-dogs-and-human.html" title="Park For Dogs And Human" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-75QISQ6JMEU/TsYiRuSLqFI/AAAAAAAAAs0/xdlu1Zi_N-Y/s72-c/park1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/11/park-for-dogs-and-human.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IHRHcyeCp7ImA9WhRSEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-8250846120112024336</id><published>2011-11-14T05:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T06:05:35.990-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-14T06:05:35.990-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Humor tales" /><title>Consider Politics - jokes</title><content type="html">Raj bumped into one of his school's guidance counselors at a bookstore. "I can't seem to find a career that intrigues me, " he said to his former teacher. "What are your interests?" he asked. "I like to take things apart, " Raj said, "but I hate putting them back together." "Son," replied the adviser, "You ought to consider politics."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Speak Chinese&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Selena, the teenage daughter of a friend of mine, was accepted to attend a highly prestigious school in England. She was understandably nervous, afraid that she couldn't live up to the lofty standards that would be expected of her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"All these girls are so smart," she said to her father anxiously, as they toured the campus for the first time. He tried to reassure her that there was nothing to be worried about, but she still didn't buy it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later, she met some of the students. After the initial pleasantries, she revealed that she had lived in Vietnam for ten years. The girls were impressed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"That is so awesome," said one. "Does that mean you can speak Chinese?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;How It Happened&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;John : Where were you born?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sally : Kathmandu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;John : Wow! How did that happen?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sally : The usual way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just for laughs! Have fun reading!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-8250846120112024336?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G1putQrQKZOmYhwUcli1nmsu9SI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G1putQrQKZOmYhwUcli1nmsu9SI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8250846120112024336/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=8250846120112024336&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8250846120112024336?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8250846120112024336?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/u7lQTm5P1SQ/consider-politics-jokes.html" title="Consider Politics - jokes" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/11/consider-politics-jokes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEERXcyfSp7ImA9WhRTGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-8208783200875471641</id><published>2011-11-09T07:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T07:46:44.995-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-09T07:46:44.995-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="What's cooking" /><title>Bubur ChaCha</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rQX9mHNzlZQ/TrqaqxMkAuI/AAAAAAAAAqo/ZJ0sWd0SWmQ/s1600/bcha.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rQX9mHNzlZQ/TrqaqxMkAuI/AAAAAAAAAqo/ZJ0sWd0SWmQ/s320/bcha.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673016740177773282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My son had been bugging me to make desserts. He found this recipe in the internet from some blog and last weekend we went and bought all those ingredients and manage to cooked it that day itself. We all love eating bubur cha cha but normally we get it from shops. Too many things to cut and wash but since he promise to help, I finally get to cook it for the very first time. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is easy to cook but too many ingredients to prepare. Ingredients are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yam - cut into bite size or any shape you like - steam for 5 minutes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sweet potatoes (2 different colors) - cut into bite size or any shape you like - steam for 5 minutes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sago - boil in water till translucent then set aside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cendol - I bought the ready made from the supermarket (optional)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Banana - cut slices and boil in water with a table spoon of sugar for 5 minutes and set aside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Coconut milk - amount depending on how much ingredients you are using&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Boil some water and sugar in a pot. Once sugar dissolved, add coconut milk. Once it began to boil add in the rest of the ingredients and serve. It taste nice hot or cold. I did add a bit of cornstarch that had been dissolved in water, to thicken it and it is smoother this way.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading. Give this a try. Right after my sons and hubby had their first bowl, they already asked when would be the next time that I will be making this again. It is tastier than those from the shops. I am drooling already. Guess I will be having this dessert very soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-8208783200875471641?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DsYnTmDdz6S8sLrHkZedvx27l1A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DsYnTmDdz6S8sLrHkZedvx27l1A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8208783200875471641/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=8208783200875471641&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8208783200875471641?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8208783200875471641?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/tUcFkTPV0wU/bubur-chacha.html" title="Bubur ChaCha" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rQX9mHNzlZQ/TrqaqxMkAuI/AAAAAAAAAqo/ZJ0sWd0SWmQ/s72-c/bcha.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/11/bubur-chacha.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQERXg8fip7ImA9WhRTE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-3520894026608554439</id><published>2011-11-03T19:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T20:11:44.676-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-03T20:11:44.676-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tell tale" /><title>Hey! You Could Use Some Yourself!</title><content type="html">The world is filled with Good Samaritans who just love to give advice to others. I have quite a number of such folks around me too. I receives uncountable e-mails from folks telling me what I should do or not do, what I should eat or not eat etc. I have received many financial and health advice too, from others.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was this family Doctor that I started going to, a few years back. The first time when I met the lady Doctor, I was a kilo away from obesity. She was quite huge herself, too. Maybe because of her profession, she advice me to exercise more often. She said she could feel my muscles were weak and even show me some of the exercise that I could do at home if I do not have the time to join a gym. She said she put off some weights after doing those exercise. I did what she told me and have been going to her for my annual medical check-up. Till to-date, she is still as huge as I first met her while I have shrunk from a size extra large to medium. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there was this lady who loves to talk about health food, how much we should eat, what we should or should not eat or do and she is not even a agent for health products. Every time if we get a chance to meet up, that is all she talks about but the funny part is she consumes the most junk food, is obese and had health issues too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I first announced to the world that I am resigning from my 9 to 5 (actually on most days it was a 9 to 9) job, a few came up to me and gave me financial advice. One even told me that I should get a part-time job or some sort of job that I could do at home so that I could earn a bit of my own income and not rely solely on my hubby, in case something bad were to happen to my hubby. Of all person, this advice came from a single mum who is a shopaholic and is about to retire in a few months time, with no financial support from her ex-hubby and her children are still in school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am grateful to those who gave me all sorts of advice and keep it coming. I love listening to those sound advice because maybe there are certain things that others see about me that I don't. I will always weigh the pros and cons and normally, if I have nothing to loose, I will follow those advise. I am thankful that I have now become slimmer, healthier and happier person because I made a change after listening to others. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only problem is, sometime I wish I could walk up to certain people and say "Hey! Remember that valuable piece of advice you gave me sometime back, I thank you for it and hope you would use it on yourself too."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading and will visit back soon. Any sound advice for me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-3520894026608554439?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/K41v3tmE-NgkyyHZZu8jlhlqIvY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/K41v3tmE-NgkyyHZZu8jlhlqIvY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/3520894026608554439/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=3520894026608554439&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/3520894026608554439?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/3520894026608554439?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/meUsZQO819s/hey-you-could-use-some-yourself.html" title="Hey! You Could Use Some Yourself!" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/11/hey-you-could-use-some-yourself.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4CQHoycCp7ImA9WhdaGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-4254240663275878594</id><published>2011-10-29T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T17:36:01.498-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-29T17:36:01.498-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Plants tale" /><title>Plant In A Cage</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7IeCGtGRrKc/TqyZ_cmgzwI/AAAAAAAAAqU/qpZAnxXy0Us/s1600/cage2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7IeCGtGRrKc/TqyZ_cmgzwI/AAAAAAAAAqU/qpZAnxXy0Us/s320/cage2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669075346241146626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oeX-F7Fu6nI/TqyZ_H_gJBI/AAAAAAAAAqM/GwWk_uVVgCk/s1600/cage1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oeX-F7Fu6nI/TqyZ_H_gJBI/AAAAAAAAAqM/GwWk_uVVgCk/s320/cage1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669075340708815890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Remember the bird with one eye that we tried to save in my much earlier post? Well this is the cage that hubby bought for the bird. It is just a cheap simple cage. After the little birdie died, we don't know what to do with the cage. Was about to give it away to neighbors who have birds as pet. Then I realize, why not plant something in it. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a lot of "money plant" (that's what it is called in my area) in my house and it is easy to plant and spread fast. So we bought some coconut husk for the base and then added a bit of soil in it and put in the plant. I hang it at the side with the door of the cage open hopping that one fine day some birds will lay eggs in it. Fat hopes I guess, hahahah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading and hope you like gardening as much as I do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-4254240663275878594?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/siFHuwq6HJbCUxlbURNroJYMQ58/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/siFHuwq6HJbCUxlbURNroJYMQ58/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4254240663275878594/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=4254240663275878594&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/4254240663275878594?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/4254240663275878594?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/SgvV9DfkjCE/plant-in-cage.html" title="Plant In A Cage" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7IeCGtGRrKc/TqyZ_cmgzwI/AAAAAAAAAqU/qpZAnxXy0Us/s72-c/cage2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/10/plant-in-cage.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQGRX46fyp7ImA9WhdaFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-5280187580266858356</id><published>2011-10-24T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T17:25:24.017-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-24T17:25:24.017-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="What's cooking" /><title>Simple Fried Spaghetti</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g9sVwaHiNGg/TqX-Avm6Z3I/AAAAAAAAApY/WAG_gKaRaPM/s1600/Fried%2BSpagetti.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g9sVwaHiNGg/TqX-Avm6Z3I/AAAAAAAAApY/WAG_gKaRaPM/s320/Fried%2BSpagetti.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667214994848769906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is easy to cook, simple but yummy. Ingredients are spaghetti, carrot, minced meat, minced garlic, prawns, light soy sauce, dark soy sauce and fish sauce.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Boil the spaghetti in water. Add a table spoon of salt to the water when boiling the spaghetti. Marinated the mince meat with light soy sauce, a few tiny drops of dark soy sauce, pepper and some sesame oil. As for the prawns, I normally marinated it with salt, pepper, sugar and a pinch of corn flour. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heat pan with a bit of oil. Fry prawns till both side changed color but not overcooked. Set aside. Now fry minced garlic till fragrant, then add in minced meat. Once meat is well cooked, add in carrots. Add a bit of water, light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, pepper, fish sauce and a bit of sesame oil. When it comes to a boil, add in the spaghetti and fry till it dries up and lastly, add in the prawns. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You could add a bit of flax seed or sesame seed before serve. Give it a try. It is simple and yummy. Thanks for reading and hope you like this month's recipe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-5280187580266858356?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TZQTwFd0ydD5lbrjiouzIz11Mds/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TZQTwFd0ydD5lbrjiouzIz11Mds/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/5280187580266858356/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=5280187580266858356&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/5280187580266858356?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/5280187580266858356?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/PNThhF0DajQ/simple-fried-spaghetti.html" title="Simple Fried Spaghetti" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g9sVwaHiNGg/TqX-Avm6Z3I/AAAAAAAAApY/WAG_gKaRaPM/s72-c/Fried%2BSpagetti.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/10/simple-fried-spaghetti.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08BSXc9fip7ImA9WhdaEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-2571650363529514063</id><published>2011-10-20T04:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T04:57:38.966-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-20T04:57:38.966-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mummy tale" /><title>My Baby No Longer A Baby</title><content type="html">Felt like it was just yesterday that we bought our eldest son his first bicycle. He was only four then. Took him to the park almost every weekend to teach him how to cycle and now he is learning how to drive a car. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Felt like it was just recently that I took a photo of him in class, his first day in kindergarden and now we are scouting for colleges.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Felt like not long ago, I help him memorized his first opening speech for his kindergarden concert. He was only six years old and is already really proud that he was chosen to give that speech. Now he is a King's Scout (equivalent to Eagle Scout / Queen's Scout) and his school's scout troop leader where he have to give speech every now and then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Remembered the day he chicken out on his first kindergarden concert, he was only four years of age. His teacher was so mad because everything went well during rehearsal and special costume was made for him. On that day itself, one look at the audience he chicken out and never made it on stage. Now, as he gets older, when ever he had a chance to perform in school, he would volunteer to dance and sometime even choreograph for his classmate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Looks like he has changed or should I say, all grown up. No longer my adorable baby but has grown into a fine young teenager. Now into adulthood. Guess I, too, have to shift gear and up my level of parenting. Already start treating him like an adult. I would let him make some decision of his own and respect them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Guess that's the wonders of parenting. We not only watch our children grow but we grow together, learn from each other and mature together. All mentioned above are priceless experience and tales that will be with us forever. At least, I would have some awesome tale to tell my grand kids about their daddy in the future. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading and hope you have lots of awesome tales about your children too. Share them with me if you don't mind.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-2571650363529514063?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AotVUBjQ-d-0n5LLzT05gTf4kxc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AotVUBjQ-d-0n5LLzT05gTf4kxc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/2571650363529514063/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=2571650363529514063&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/2571650363529514063?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/2571650363529514063?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/TVc0EZP3m-Y/my-baby-no-longer-baby.html" title="My Baby No Longer A Baby" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/10/my-baby-no-longer-baby.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YAQ347eSp7ImA9WhdbGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-2283299894757648368</id><published>2011-10-16T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T21:19:02.001-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-16T21:19:02.001-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tell tale" /><title>Pet Or Pest</title><content type="html">I was at the coffee shop the other day and as I was paying for my food, the owner pointed at a lady in the next table and chuckle, "That lady over there cried over her dead dog." He told me twice, as I didn't say anything but smile at him. He finds it ridiculous to cry over an animal. Bet he had never had a pet in his life.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had also seen folks who can't stand flies. The minute a fly goes by her house, she would rolled up a newspaper and chase the fly from the kitchen to the garden and make very sure she gives it a good smacking and even after the fly had fallen to the ground, she still had to stepped on it a few times to be 100 % sure it is dead. Maybe she thinks that by killing a fly, other flies will not come by her house anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there was this other lady who can't stand cockroaches. The minute one appears in her house she would spray it with insecticide till it turns over and die, if the cockroach runs, she will give chase and continue to spray till it drop dead and without realizing it, she actually used half a bottle of insecticide to kill just one miserable cockroach. Pathetic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I would like to remind all that during the stone age, we, human, animals, insects and plants live together sharing the jungles and seas. Then man kind starts to used their gifted intelligence and turn the green jungle into a concrete jungle. The animals and insects aren't as fortunate as us and some were born in the concrete jungle too. So where should they live but around our houses and buildings. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you see stray cats or dogs on the street or a fly, a mouse etc and could not lend a hand to help them but at least don't think of them as pest. They didn't ask to live this way, they didn't ask to steal food from us. They have no choice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those who see strays and insects as pest, your blood starts to boil when you see one, your brain starts to come up with 1001 ideas how to get rid of them from the surface of Earth and when your plans didn't work, you get stressed out for no reason and wouldn't this be extremely bad for your health? On the other hand, if you see them as a pet or a friend, even if you could not adopt all the strays in the street but at least when you bump into one, you do not cook up an evil plan to kill it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cried when I watch "Marley And Me", I cried again when I watched it the second time. When mice get into my house, I trap it with a safe box trap and release it some where else. When I see a fly I shoo it away and make sure it does not land on my food. There isn't a need to kill it. When I have extra food I feed the stray cats and dogs around my area. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you have a pet, you love them, they do love you back unconditionally. They do show affection even though they do not speak our language. Guess only animal lovers understand how I feel but for those who don't, for your health sake, let me tell you this, killing a fly or a stray cat does not solve your problem. There are thousands more out there. Why not just let it be. God created them to be  around us for reason. Perhaps to test our patience and to see if we are good or evil.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading and be kind to all living things on Earth even though you are killing it for food, do it with humanity. They deserve a life too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-2283299894757648368?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EY1Ihf7cC_AUtPggIZ2WUA1c9es/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EY1Ihf7cC_AUtPggIZ2WUA1c9es/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/2283299894757648368/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=2283299894757648368&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/2283299894757648368?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/2283299894757648368?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/cp0s7P1w0Jg/pet-or-pest.html" title="Pet Or Pest" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/10/pet-or-pest.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUGSXw7fyp7ImA9WhdbFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-6461805792652365661</id><published>2011-10-12T16:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T17:03:48.207-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-12T17:03:48.207-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Humor tales" /><title>Lawyer Jokes</title><content type="html">A new client had just come to see a famous lawyer. "Can you tell me how much you charge?" said the client. "Of course," the lawyer replied. "I charge RM200 to answer three questions."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Well, that's kinda steep, isn't it?" "Yes, it is," said the lawyer. "And what's your third question?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Doctor or Lawyer&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A lawyer, who was talking to his son about entering college, said, "How did it get into your head that you want to be a doctor instead of a lawyer?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Well, Dad," answered the son, "did you ever hear anybody get up in a crowd and shout frantically, "Is there a lawyer in the house?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-6461805792652365661?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PoyiT2mCuJRVF8cF5vGOsRn6A34/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PoyiT2mCuJRVF8cF5vGOsRn6A34/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6461805792652365661/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=6461805792652365661&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/6461805792652365661?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/6461805792652365661?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/3TFmSbeUluI/lawyer-jokes.html" title="Lawyer Jokes" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/10/lawyer-jokes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIHQH4-cSp7ImA9WhdbEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-8310438829099722365</id><published>2011-10-07T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T22:58:51.059-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-07T22:58:51.059-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Special tale" /><title>Joy</title><content type="html">*Joy is when my boyfriend holds my hand for the first time.&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when I see my son for the first time in the labor room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when my son took his first step.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when I got promoted when I didn't expect and realize my hard work didn't go unnoticed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when I get to eat what I crave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when I see a bright rainbow up in the sky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when birds taking bath on my plant in front of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when hearing laughter around the house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when I smile at strangers on my morning walk and they smile back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when I see an additional follower in my blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when watching The Oprah Show and learn from experts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when National Geography and Animal Planets bring me to places that money can't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Joy is when hubby still holds my hand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;....  and the list goes on and on and on because most things bring me joy and I am thankful of their appearance / existence and grateful that they are a prt of me and brightens up my day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading and hope I, too, exist in your list of joy! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-8310438829099722365?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pfxsMvVvT9YVkkFnF3RkvAaxK7Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pfxsMvVvT9YVkkFnF3RkvAaxK7Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8310438829099722365/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=8310438829099722365&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8310438829099722365?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8310438829099722365?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/01n3Mv--Mew/joy.html" title="Joy" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/10/joy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYNQHc9eip7ImA9WhdUGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-4949325868744780194</id><published>2011-10-05T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T07:16:31.962-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-05T07:16:31.962-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Animal tale" /><title>My New Pet Kiko</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZsJU9cEIvAk/ToxjEAnjgvI/AAAAAAAAApM/vzZCpsw6QgA/s1600/in%2Bjail.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZsJU9cEIvAk/ToxjEAnjgvI/AAAAAAAAApM/vzZCpsw6QgA/s320/in%2Bjail.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660007752234402546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y6Tc3_34QP0/ToxjDx1cn8I/AAAAAAAAApE/ICufqhij8lc/s1600/bed4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y6Tc3_34QP0/ToxjDx1cn8I/AAAAAAAAApE/ICufqhij8lc/s320/bed4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660007748266139586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HP8QyUF74rQ/ToxjDjo7GRI/AAAAAAAAAo8/Hj2BL0UGYnU/s1600/bed3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HP8QyUF74rQ/ToxjDjo7GRI/AAAAAAAAAo8/Hj2BL0UGYnU/s320/bed3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660007744455514386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r7qa1atHswg/ToxjC76WESI/AAAAAAAAAo0/IUVCvmtKn_g/s1600/bed2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r7qa1atHswg/ToxjC76WESI/AAAAAAAAAo0/IUVCvmtKn_g/s320/bed2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660007733791166754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4DKPTLOnNIg/ToxjCrQ9IWI/AAAAAAAAAos/p6IlY3aE3-0/s1600/bed1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4DKPTLOnNIg/ToxjCrQ9IWI/AAAAAAAAAos/p6IlY3aE3-0/s320/bed1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660007729322598754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Look at him! Isn't he cute! My 14 years old son found him in the school science lab with no mommy or sibling, just him alone. He called me from school and asked for permission to keep him and I said yes. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had yet to have a pet cat. This is our first. More cute video of him coming soon. As you know, I love taking videos and photos of my pets, plants etc. The camera had been pretty busy lately with him around. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He came to our lives last Friday, and was still wobbling when he walk. Had to bottle feed him. Lucky for us, we had bottle feeding experienced with our 2 batches of baby rabbits and an extra cage for him too. Kinda huge for him at the moment. Now, after few days of feeding him with pets formula, he is very strong and had start to run about the house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone at home love him very much. Bet he will be spoiled in no time. So far, taking care of Kiko is not much of a hassle. He sleeps most of the time and when he starts crying it means it is time to pee or shit. When the bottle of milk goes near him, he is like a tiny Might Tyson punching and pushing in all directions not knowing how to drink properly, which reminds me of my 2 sons when they were infant. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading. Hope you have an adorable pet too because they do brighten up the house and make me giggle watching him discover the world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-4949325868744780194?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jBNB_V9aggadWsyl_Akdb6kcdPs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jBNB_V9aggadWsyl_Akdb6kcdPs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4949325868744780194/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=4949325868744780194&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/4949325868744780194?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/4949325868744780194?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/AUo4ykzFLM8/my-new-pet-kiko.html" title="My New Pet Kiko" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZsJU9cEIvAk/ToxjEAnjgvI/AAAAAAAAApM/vzZCpsw6QgA/s72-c/in%2Bjail.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/10/my-new-pet-kiko.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0AFQnYzfCp7ImA9WhdUEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889794752744169118.post-8223249298750720674</id><published>2011-09-28T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T17:21:53.884-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-28T17:21:53.884-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tales From My Students" /><title>Mind What You Say</title><content type="html">I think most parents forgot that what ever they say or do, their children are watching and look up to them. They are the people that children believed and trusted the most. Most parents still do not realize that those words coming from their mouth are extremely powerful and their children are listening. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I teach Maths (tuition) at night to secondary school students aged between 13 to 17. Recently, one of my 16 year old male student told me that he got zero for History. I could not believed my ears. I asked if he wrote anything on the paper, he said no. He just wrote his name and went to sleep till the whole exam was over and passed up the blank piece of paper. Asked if his parents know about it yet. His replied shocked me, "My parents said History is of no use, we won't be needing it when we work in the future."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to teach English and Bahasa Malaysia to primary school children few years back. I remembered there was this mother who was very concern about her son's studies. She would checked with me her son's progress every now and then. Every time when I chat with her, in the presence of her son, she always said, "As long as he knows a bit of English and Bahasa Malaysia, just enough to be able to fill up forms when applying for loans etc, it is good enough." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So no matter how I teach him, even my other students had improved, he remains the same and his mum still do not understand why. Well, most parents would blamed it on the school or tuition teachers and never on themselves. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To me, able to study is an attitude. Something that the parents have to coach since young, just like potty training, manners etc. If they start with the right mind set, studying is not a problem. You can employ the best professor to teach your child but without the right attitude about learning, you are wasting your money. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for reading and hope your child loves learning. Make it fun and tell them it is as easy as learning a new on-line game. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889794752744169118-8223249298750720674?l=krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KD8gorFOG0f2gpYG_ufqPvKT8WI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KD8gorFOG0f2gpYG_ufqPvKT8WI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8223249298750720674/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8889794752744169118&amp;postID=8223249298750720674&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8223249298750720674?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8889794752744169118/posts/default/8223249298750720674?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/KrazyMonkeyTale/~3/e2ncVjUhCfQ/mind-what-you-say.html" title="Mind What You Say" /><author><name>Aries</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02055693297039661810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5BPDCd-gSng/SoNlREZTisI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IQAb4GOtj98/S220/img084.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://krazymonkeytale.blogspot.com/2011/09/mind-what-you-say.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

