You Know You're From Malaysia

You Know You're From Malaysia (esp. Klang Valley) When ...


You understand if people say "7pm", it means 8 to 8.30 pm.
None of your computer software is actually legal.
Most of your CDs, VCDs or DVDs aren't legal either.
This also applies to your wardrobe.
Hell, everything that can be pirated, IS.
Theoretically, you speak perfect English, but you DON'T.
Your stomach can withstand such intestinal flora that would kill other people (this goes especially to people from Sarawak and Sabah).
EVERYTHING CAN BE NEGOTIATED. Even Datukships (Lordships/Knighthood).
Your brain cannot grasp the concept of shops that close before 6pm.
Your brain also cannot grasp the concept that shops MAY close on holidays.
Pedestrians DO NOT have the right of way. Motorcyclists on the other hand, do.
But that's mostly because they're suicidal buggers.
You swear by the LRT (Light Rail Transit), but you won't bet your life on the public buses.
You pay less taxi fare than the poor cheated tourist.
You refer to every white-looking person as "Mat Salleh" (...long story), "gwailo" ('white devil') or "Ang Moh" ('red hair').
Your capacity for understanding your fellow South-east Asians are as follows: Filipinos/Indonesians - Maids; Indonesians/Vietnamese/Cambodians - Labourers; Bruneian/Singaporean - rich buggers; Thai - Always Available for A Good Time; plus the honorary SEAan, Bangladeshis - petrol station workers/your daughter's
future husband.
You instinctively dislike Singaporeans.
Vice versa goes to both West Malaysians and East Malaysians.
There is probably no organ of an animal that has NOT been made into a dish.
You do not understand the concept of "COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT" and "FAIR USE".
Maggi is the food of the gods. There is no other brand of instant noodle.
(for SPGs - Sarong Party Girls) The only good white man is the Rich White Man.
You immediately assume that a black man is either a)American (which means, "wassup homie!"); or b)African (which means they're out to scam you).
YOU EAT RICE EVERY SINGLE FRICKIN' DAY.
On the road, you drive as though your Kancil is a tank loaded with nuclear canons, and EVERYONE is OUT to get YOU.
Inside your battle tank, I mean car, is a veritable cornucopia of tacky. If you're a girl, it's swimming with lace, and carcasses of stuffed toys stuck on the windows. If you're a guy, nothing says testosterone as a sound system that is capable of inducing its own moving mini-earthquake.
There is no such thing as a dodgy ringtone. To have a polyphonic ringtone blaring Beyonce IS the height of fashion.
Come to think about it, there is no such thing as phone etiquette either. You know EVERYONE's dying to eavesdrop in your conversation.
This is, for the most part, true.
There is no hare-brained schemed designed to uplift your national pride (like, oh, say, dropping the national car in the middle of the Antartica) that can't be excused with the cry of 'Malaysia Boleh!' (Malaysia Can (Do It)!)
The quality of national car made locally is akin to the standard of a box made of aluminium, when the ones made overseas wins rave reviews from car magazines from all over the world.
If you watch the television, we Malaysians won't know how to kiss, but by God we know how to disembowel your mortal enemy in 12 different ways. (Thank you Censorship Board!)
We all know that the West is Teh Ebil. Boo! Hiss! (This may, or may not, include Singapore)
Everyone and their mother was involved in the making of Entrapment (that movie starring Sean Connery and Catherine ZJ). Also 'Anna and the King'.
You know what movies that have entered the National Hate List aka Movies that Will Never Be Shown in Any Government Event (and I am NOT kidding): Entrapment, Zoolander AND Black Hawk Down. Don't ask).

AND finally... You know you're in Malaysia when...

There are four seasons: Too Hot, Too Wet, Too much Haze (is Indonesia on fire again?!) and English Premier League