Lawak Antarabangsa

Aku bengang baru-baru ni bila terjumpa bebudak berangan tak sudah.

Kalau ko rasa ko international standard, ko pitch la kat kompeni international. Bukan susah, bro. Pitch je la.

Aku start pitch idea dan cerita kat kompeni antarabangsa masa umur aku 19 tahun. Aku ambik outline cerita, idea dan cerita tak siap - pasal aku budak umur 19 tahun yang tak mengenal dunia - pastu aku hantar pakai email ke Random House, Del Rey, Dark Horse Comics, apa-apa alamat e-mail yang aku jumpa masa zaman purba Internet.

Kebanyakan daripada diorang reject. Ada yang hantar rejection letter yang amat sopan, baik dan pemurah. Ada sorang je editor berbangsa Yahudi yang memberi galakan yang hebat. Berminggu-minggu dia suruh aku habiskan cerita pasal orang Yahudi masuk gas chamber.

Dia rasa, seorang beragama Islam menulis cerita sci-fi pasal orang Yahudi kena bunuh masa Perang Dunia Kedua sebagai satu cerita yang penting. Sampai sekarang, aku masih terhutang budi kepada seorang editor Yahudi yang membakar semangat aku di kala aku rasa terperangkap dengan dunia penerbitan fiksyen. Banyak jugak aku belajar daripada dia.

Beberapa minggu lepas, aku pitch kat satu kompeni international yang bertumpu kat sini - kat Malaysia. Selepas 14 tahun, akhirnya ada kompeni sebesar tu yang suka cerita-cerita aku. Apa akan jadi? Adakah aku dapat buat cerita-cerita yang aku suka dan pasarkan ke arena lebih besar? Entah. Aku tak tau.

Aku masih berpijak pada bumi yang nyata.

Yang penting, aku tahu yang aku hanya akan gagal selepas aku berhenti mencuba. Jadi, kepada sesiapa yang amat yakin dengan karya sendiri, kalau nak pitch kat kompeni international, dipersilakan. Bagi aku, aku percaya kepada membangunkan kemahiran sendiri dan mengkaji penerimaan pasaran di kampung halaman sendiri sebelum kau mencuba pasaran luar.

Apa-apa karya yang mampu menyentuh sekumpulan manusia, mempunyai kebarangkalian besar menyentuh kumpulan manusia yang lain. Sebab karya kreatif ni cuma menyampaikan cerita dan idea kompleks melalui apa-apa medium, dengan perlaksanaan yang hebat.

Aku menyampah kat ramai Gen Y sebab berangan lebih. Fahami market kau sendiri - fahami industri kau sendiri sebelum kau terkinja-kinja melompat macam beruk. Fahami manusia. Kalau pemahaman kau pasal dunia cuma bergantung daripada buku yang kau baca dan siri TV yang kau tonton, baik ko pergi keluar dan betul-betul hayati dunia ni macam mana.

Tetapi, aku juga rasa amat gembira bila aku terjumpa Gen Y yang bersemangat nak buat kerja. Ya. Aku tau. 'GenY' dan 'kerja' tidak selalu selari. Tapi ada yang rajin. Ada yang mahu terus berusaha. Ada yang faham bahawa kejayaan itu tidak datang daripada duduk melangu, mengelamun sambil tunggu orang basuh berak kau.

Gen X pun ada jenis tunggu orang bagi dia duit. Atau fikir orang buat kerja sebab nak rompak/curi duit dia. Aku kenal. Ramai.

Ada kos untuk semua benda. Kalau kau fikir kau hebat sangat, dipersilakan. Selepas 10 tahun aku bergelumang dalam industri korporat dan kreatif, aku masih lagi budak umur 19 tahun yang hantar pitch kat syarikat antarabangsa.

Cuma janganlah kau fikir semua orang ialah bibik kau yang akan basuh lubang jubur taik ko untuk bayaran picisan. Ko cubalah dengan kompeni antarabangsa dan tengok sama ada kau diterima atau tidak. Kau mungkin berjaya, atau kau mungkin jadi lawak antarabangsa.

I'm Better Than You

You know what? Just because I come from a teacher's family from the outskirts of Kuantan, I AM better than any of you.

Think about it.

I come from a rural area, my family barely had any money, I never went to a single fucking tuition class, and still manage to score in the top 5% of the country when I was just 12 fucking years old. I beat over 90% of you, on a lower budget.

I got all As for UPSR, all As for PMR and six As for SPM (out of 10) cause by the time I was 17, I was an extremely egotistical kid who wanted to prove I could score without studying.

I got 4A1s, 2A2s and a bunch of C3s for SPM on subjects I didn't give a shit about. Plus a 1A for my 1119 O Level. I look at you rich retards, and I think, "Fuck you, you rich motherfucker."

While you fuckers plonked down 400 bucks for Yu-Gi-Oh cards, I could only read reviews of games and comic books online. While you fuckers get driven to piano classes and dance lessons and whatever the fuck shit rich kids do - I was staying away from being raped and/or beaten up.

I beat the motherfucking odds time and again. The ever shifting standards of education in the old days? I educated myself. Fuck you.

I was stuck in the fucking swamp and I learned stuff myself, on my own. I AM better than you.

I can imitate any skill, given enough time and the right reference material. Nothing is beyond me.

Given enough time, I can do anything.

Despite all your resources, all you could ever hope to achieve is to be a loser douchebag while I accomplish heroic feats impossible to rich people cause they never know what it means to be so broke, you survive on cigarettes and boiled water.

You never had to survive on 600 bucks a month, eating eggs, rice and Aji-Shio. Did you? Huh? Did you?

Have you ever been so broke, you couldn't even afford eggs, so you ate rice with soy sauce? Huh? Fuck you, you rich bastards. You pampered sons of thieves, robbers and murderers.

I had to fight, claw, scratch my way every single inch of the goddamned path. And only by the grace of God did I scrape through.

I was almost homeless and I got no money to rent, so I had to squat at a friend's place. I stayed there for six long fucking months, maybe longer, feeling shitty every single day.

I paid it forward by housing a struggling guy, but he screwed me out of money - that's another story for another day.

I was on the brink more times than I could remember. Idiots and fucktards THREATEN suicide publicly. Let me tell you this: if someone's really, REALLY suicidal, they'd just shut up and withdraw.

I'm fine now, but I was so depressed in my 20s, I was hospitalised. Thank God I had insurance.

You don't fucking know what it means. None of you rich fuckers will ever, EVER know what it's like. To live on the brink. And to survive. Every. Goddamn. Time.

I wrote this so I can say: I'm better than you. Any of you. All a you motherfuckers. You pampered bullshit sacks of motherfucking monkey ass rapists.

Best in the World!

I am looking at the comic book company I am doing, and despite all the odds against it, I still want to do it.

The thing needs two things - product and funding. While I'm doing all sorts of tricks and somersaults to get enough money to launch the damned thing, I am also working on the products.

It should have been launched by now, but we hit a few snags here and there. I'll be a monkey's unclefucker if I tuck tail and run, though.

By hook, by crook, by what creeps, what crawls, by what does not, I will get these projects off the ground. I've waited 15 goddamned years to find an angle to do it and I'll be damned to hell if I stop now.

Only death can prevent me from doing comics. That or mental illness, a debilitating disease, apocalypse, a car accident, sudden successful suicidal attempts or if I fall in love with an alien from the planet Pandora.

Other than this, I will keep at it and keep working until one day, I am crowned the Best Comics Writer and Publisher in the world.

Neil Fucking Gaiman will KNEEEL before me and slap himself silly, wipe his ass with The Sandman Comics - The GREATEST comics known to mankind - and say, "I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy!"

(Though if I ever meet the guy, I'd probably be a blubbering psychopath and wet my pants.)

So yes, it's on. I don't give a fuck. Unlike other projects in my life right now, this one is entirely mine, so I really, really special to me. I am already working 15-hour days. If I have to pump it up to 20-hour days, I don't give a fuck.

The Rord of the Fries

Woke up again at close to 3am. Sleep patterns erratic. So I guess I'll tell you about myself. Again.

I left home when I was 12 years old. All my siblings left home when we were 12.

I went to a boarding school, where I was immediately aware that I am poor. Other kids used up their pocket money - I did not have that luxury. I saved every single cent my parents sent me. Nothing to take the edge off that hellhole.

My school was an all-boys' school. So to keep up the macho image, some things were done para-military style.

Orientation week was a time of physical torture. You wake up? 100 squats. You want to have breakfast? 100 squats. Lunch? 100 squats. Dinner? 100 squats. You want to go to sleep? 100 squats. You did something wrong? Everybody got 200 squats. Squats not synchronised? Repeat it again, from the top.

You know the movie Full Metal Jacket? The first part, about private (military private) training? It was like that.

We were 13 years old.

You want to end the night's activities? Stand on tables and chairs and blow at flourescent lights till they go off.

Orientation week was supposed to be for a week, but in various permutations, it lasted four years.

You can get beat up pretty often. You smoke? You get beat up. You make faces at a senior? You get beat up. You say shit to any senior? You get beat up. Walking too loudly? You get beat up.

There were weekly beat up sessions where it started with intimidation and ego-stroking and always ends up with stunts like flying kicks and shit. Saturday night. There was nothing else for the kids to do. We were all very smart - top 400 kids in the country.

I was never really beat up. Some prefects punched and kicked me a few times cause I was standing in the way of love between two people, but that's nothing. Compared to others, I was barely touched cause I slept through most of high school.

Every single time, the reason they give is this toughens you up. It was supposed to break you down as a human so you could be rebuilt. Some people had to pick up pieces of themselves and carry that around for the rest of their lives.

I have to say one thing, though - once you have gone through that hellhole for five years, not many things other than prison fazes you. You learn the true value of everything - nothing. You learn the true value of humans - nothing.

I hate my experience in the hell-hole. But I must admit that all I have seen there has greatly benefitted me. It's like surviving Lord of the Flies. I know how far down the abyss humanity can go. I've been there. I saw the demons lurking behind the masks of tribal anonymity. I saw them smile and bare their teeth.

Nowadays, I hardly ever look back. I hope the worst is over, so I can continue watching porn.

God of War

Been a crazy two days.

Until 8pm just now, I slept for two hours over a 48-hour period. There was a task I thought I couldn't finish by today, furthermore when it is heaped on another task.

But then, somehow, all the layers peeled away and I was there, alone, facing a world of iron and nails. I hacked and hacked at it, never once even thinking of giving up.

And lo and behold - it is done. It is finished. Tasks I thought I couldn't complete - were completed.

I went home and for my reward, I received my mother's cooking.

I felt like Kratos.

Tonight I wake up, and I am already thinking of new work. New tasks. This obsession has barely started.

Under Budget, Ahead of Schedule

I saw one documentary on Samsung and how they got to be where they are.

Those people practised one of the most kiasu strategies in their business. The philosophy was: under budget, ahead of schedule. For every thing.

This will only work in a society that values hard work. There are hardworking people who work hard all their lives and manage only to live till they're old. No Gs, no cheese, no snowmobiles, no skis.

My grandfather - I believe his name was Fong something-something - came to Malaysia on a fucking tongkang. If I remember correctly, he was in his teens. I think he was born in the year 1900. Came here in 1917 or something like that.

He used to tell his kids that he slept on a rock as a pillow. It was by choice, by design, so he would not feel too lazy to get out of bed in the morning and start working. The idea is, if your bed is too comfortable, you'd want to stay in bed all day.

In his 90s, my grandfather lived on a plot of land with a huge chicken farm at the back. Not that huge, just around a few thousand chickens or so. He kept over 40 dogs - all mongrels - and had a small bonsai garden.

He would wake up at 6am every morning and do some farm work. My ancestors from Guangzhou planted tea and lychee, so that part is inherited a few generations, but it stopped with me. I don't plant trees. I plant ideas.

Anyway, my father inherited that thing and played fair, worked hard all his life. The worst offence in our household, when I was growing up, was not doing any work. You constantly had to be doing something useful, or his worst insult will come out: "You're useless!"

He told me to plant corn one time, and I was really pissed off that all my hard work watering those damned things and carrying a sack of chicken shit all over a quarter acre was only going to be worth RM5 per seven ears of high quality corn.

My father's sense of pricing was stuck in World War 2. This was in 1995 or so. I was 15 years old.

We were never rich and putting food on the table was the primary concern. I didn't have lots of pocket money and even though I liked comic books, the only way to enjoy them was to read reviews online (I was online in 1996) as well as Master's thesis on comics.

This is due to the fact that people in 1996 shared useful stuff on the Internet. I read academic journals and papers, slowly realising that the world is full of bullshit and spin.

To this day, my mother cuts chicken to 16 pieces to make sure they go around. We were supposed to eat more rice as it's cheaper.

When a member of another family came and decided to finish off the other dishes, my mother was horrified. Scandalised, even!

This is due to the fact she keeps leftovers in the fridge. She has three - I bought her a large one in 2008. Inside these things are all kinds of food known to man.

During the recent flood in Kuantan, the first thing my mother assured me was that they have enough food in reserve. I didn't need that reassurance. I know in those fridges are a year's worth of provisions - just in case the Japanese were to ever attack us again.

The food may be spoiled, but you won't be hungry. You may die from food poisoning, but you'll never go hungry.

Anyway, in my efforts to be under budget and ahead of schedule for my own projects, I believe this would be the first year in 33 that I would not be going back for Chinese New Year.

I don't think my father or my late grandfather would mind. I know that if I explained it to them in farming terms, they would understand.

Tales from the Drunk Side: It's Been a While

Yep.

Corporate Vs Creative

I got started on some corporate jobs recently and I soon found myself utterly consumed by it. Whenever I start work on any one thing - with nothing else to take my attention away - I devote myself fully to it.

Everything else falls away, as I see only one goal in front of me. I will fucking hammer at it until it is done. This actually has a physical effect on my body. High on adrenaline, or something, I find my core temperature raised. I feel hot all the time - and not an unhealthy, feverish hot. I stay up longer, and my mind does not stop spinning, painting many possibilities and simulating solutions for everything.

It's a sickness, an addiction. I have been here before. I know the feeling. It's like that one time I rode pillion on a small kapcai from Karak to Lembah Pantai, in the rain. Doing 140km/h on the highway, small droplets of water turn into stinging beads.

Soon, your hand feels numb, then, your face. Soon, you are just a nub of humanity facing erosion in the wind.

I am extremely intense.

Over the years, I have learned some degree of pacing, of patience, of managing expectations. But when I work - when I push - it is this intense energy that carries me forward. And I like it. I do hope everything works without a hitch.

Creative projects generate a different kind of energy. I become more spread out. It's chaos without any single point to focus on. This wide dispersal is about mass movements of energy - about people. It is about arranging many different pieces in a lifetime to prepare a collage.

Sometimes, I get lost in it and not much comes out of half-written novels or unfinished short stories. Movie scripts, though, I approach with a corporate mindset because there are others on the team waiting for the damned thing to be finished.

Both fields provide a different kind of rush. Corporate - an addict-like fire that burns everything raw. Creative - a more holistic, all-embracing neatness in a chaos of fractals.

I think I need to lay off the corporate for a while until everything is confirmed. My intensity might come in handy later on, but I also need to pace myself. What I need to do for this phase is almost done anyway. There are still a lot more to do, but I can wait for the others and other things to be there as well.

I might as well sleep for now, cause I don't know what I need to do tomorrow or next week. I'm just afraid the fire will be stomped out prematurely, which is still a possibility.

Tardy TARDIS

Today, I felt like Dr Who. I was taking a companion on a tour of humanity. The little games, the intense desires and truths and lies and things with molecular structure and this is my boomstick.

I have long past tired of humans and animals. Even plants. Truth be told, given the money, I would just work out every day beside a koi pond, with a yoga deck.

Something like this, but more modest

I have the perfect spot - it's beside my house at the kampung. I'll build a koi pond there, some day. On the side, there will be a wooden deck where I can install a cardio machine or just an empty space to do yoga.

I'd stay there, in that house, watching the koi, and one day I will die. I do not need or want anything else.

I see people with ambition and desire, and I always say good luck to them. I know that for me, nothing they want in life is anything I truly desire. I don't judge them for it - except for those who are animals. Those, I always judge because they choose to be animals - but I wish them well on their way.

The world has enough for everyone - as long as we do not breed like viruses and exhaust the resources - and I believe a quiet, often flooded place at the edge of the Malaysian peninsula is enough for me.

I mean, I'm already immortal - I got my own IMDB page (which is not entirely correct and will always be incomplete) - and I have done all I ever wanted to do in this life.

My daily issues are just that of survival and one day to be able to afford that koi pond. My focus has gotten more intense. I have no regard for any thing other than my goals.

Oh well. Here's my sonic screwdriver. Time to take a nap.

Notes on the Run

Lots of idiots were shocked when I offered the view that we are all insignificant. That I am insignificant - that you are insignificant - that everyone is fucking insignificant.

They see this as some sort of depression, when this thinking is one of those things that got me out of depression.

They don't understand it. Because they are undoubtedly idiots.

When you remove your 'self' from the equation, you will be able to see things more clearly. You will be able to feel real emotion without the constraints of the ego, without identification with the self. I have seen so many smart people fall prey to arrogance and the ego. Scratch that. In doing so, they are no longer smart - but idiots like the rest of them.

These past few years, I have been experimenting by tapping into my natural tools such as my drive, my energy and my sense of urgency while retaining my sanity and clarity of mind. The clarity comes realising that I do not matter. That I am nothing. But in order for me to get some things, I have to do certain actions and display certain ... traits.

For example, in order for you to get service at a restaurant, you need to increase your visibility and presence. While talking to people, you need to be empathic and become a receptacle to their thoughts and ideas. In order for you to talk, you need to listen, blablabla.

So anyway, I have found my peace and my solace by removing my presence and my killing instinct entirely. What is outside of my being exists as it is. I sometimes see myself doing things. In the past, whenever I do stupid things, I could sense and see it, but I could not do anything about it. It's like having a dream, watching this idiot stumble through life. That idiot being me.

Through meditation, breathing exercises and mental practices, I have managed to slow the perceived response time between action and thought. It's still not complete - I'll always be a work in progress - but I have seen some improvements.

The more I practice this and the more I make mistakes, I seem to become calmer. It is possible today, to be excited and calm at the same time - if that means anything.

Anyway, I finished a few things tonight and will wake up tomorrow hopefully refreshed enough to tackle the challenges and the Herculean tasks I have set for myself and my team.

Fight the Future

A friend asked recently about the future of this country. A pretty hefty topic for a light meal we were having, but I decided to answer him in full.

"We are all heading for destruction," I said. And I mean it. Not just for Malaysia, but for the world.

There is not enough space nor resources to accommodate the virus that is mankind.

"So where is this country heading?" he asked.

I gave a lengthy answer, but the truth is, and to put it in simpler terms - this country is heading where its people are heading.

Everything that makes a country - the social contract, the laws, the administration, the song, the culture, the flag - all of it were just because some years ago, a bunch of people got together and said, "Hey, let's live together and adhere to these rules. And have these things represent our group."

I've always seen all constructs - nation, race, religion - to be very flimsy agreements between a bunch of people. Do we have to follow all of them? Well, if we agreed to them, and continue to, we are honour-bound by our word - our promise - that things stay as they are.

Therefore, those who are lucky enough to be in control of the wealth or political power should find it in their best interest - in order to remain in control of said resources - that there is a fair distribution of wealth, and some degree of freedom that the majority accepts.

Otherwise, the majority - the basis of democracy - might decide to either not follow the contract put forth that makes this country, or make new rules. Or even take all the money for themselves, denying those who previously have the wealth to have any.

Everything requires balance, and this balance is extremely hard to come by. More so is a sembling of balance, but let's not digress.

One thing I find the majority of Malaysians don't understand is money. Much like energy, money can't be created or destroyed. Almost. There are exceptions, such as the US printing money on the basis that their dollar is strong. It's not that strong anymore, but they keep on printing it, I guess.

Money flows from one place to another. It is limited because scarcity is one of its traits, bla bla bla. I don't want to go to Form Four Basic Economics.

What I want to say is that the future of this or any country depends on its people. If the people work together and benefit each other, there will be much money to be made. If we continue to be entitled toddlers who do not understand that there is a cost to everything and you can't run away from paying what is due, then we as a society are doomed to destruction.

I am writing by electric light. There is a cost to this electric energy, most probably coal or diesel. I am writing on a table. It's wooden, meaning at some point, a tree was cut so it could be made. The lorry that carried that piece of log to the furniture factory was paid.

Everything is connected, and everything has a cost. That movie you just downloaded - somebody paid for the production design, for the crew to haul equipment and operate them. Somebody wrote a stupid script for porn actors who mouthed the lines while sucking cock or nipples. And he/she got paid for it.

I just threw some tissue paper into a wastebasket. Tomorrow, someone will come and collect the trash I will put in the rubbish bin outside my apartment. There is a cost to that garbage man and his garbage truck, and the landfill he will take the trash to.

The roads you travel on - somebody paid for the bitumen or asphalt to be hauled. And they paid for the crew to set it there.

These are our resources, this is our money, and it flows from one part to another. From one person to another.

I find a lot of Malaysians laugh at my face when I tell them the invisible things we have to pay. These are people who download pirated movies. People who avoid taxes. These people use everything everyone else paid for, but have the audacity to try and be cute and get away with not paying.

Sometimes, there are reasons. PTPTN, for instance. I had a huge problem with their customer service at one point. They acted as if they were monkeys yelling at other monkeys to pay up. I hated them for years, but my last official dealing with them was pleasant, and I am well on my way to finish paying the loan. I paid RM300 bucks a month for three or four years already, plus 5K three years ago. And I made sure it's by a monthly cheque, so I would have double paper trails should the dogs of PTPTN who hounded me over the phone years ago decided to try and steal my money by claiming I never paid them.

My bank advised me to use monthly cheques, paying them 5 bucks a month so I would have this security of double paper trails. If there are liars and douchebags in PTPTN - whom I encountered over the phone years ago - I am ready for them.

I pay my PTPTN loan because I understand and accept that if I don't, the generation after me might have problems funding their increasingly expensive education. The MoE or Government can't conjure money out of thin air.

I don't have money currently and the only thing I can do is abide by the rules I agree to. I refuse to be a monkey, and this is the only way I know on how to avert total destruction.

I queue up. I do not vandalise public property - okay, I litter a bit. I pay for what I can, and what I should. I refuse to be part of an entitled generation. As if the world owes me a living. And I'm not talking about Gen Y. The Baby Boomers are the ones largely responsible for an entitled mentality. That things should come free. That money should drop down from the sky and wipe their asses.

My only worry is that these days, I find myself to be the ONLY mature and responsible adult in Malaysia. Everyone else wants to be kids. Some of them want to be monkeys. Racist, stupid, irresponsible, fucking bullshit monkeys.

I'm not just talking about politicians and people in control of power and/or wealth - they are all evil monkeys. I'm also putting responsibility on the group of people who made this all possible - you. You who have created a stupid, superstitious, unscientific, egotistical monkey society. You who have cut queues, both figuratively and literally. You who have no problems calling everyone else racist but have yet to realise your own racism. You who pretend to be good and pious, but in essence are less honourable than a prostitute fucking a dog. And what's wrong with fucking a dog? It's non-consensual, bitch!

You have no fucking idea how many stupid fucking monkeys come up to me and judge me with their stupid little monkey brains that I am exactly like them. With the exact same insecurities and fears. They think the little tricks they do is enough to fool me or anyone else for that matter. It is extremely insulting and condescending for them to think that their stupid little monkey tricks are bulletproof when they're as transparent as a hooker's nylon panties.

I do not hate you idiots. Nor do I love you. I don't care. I have stopped caring when I was eight years old and realised I was in a swamp and that the whole world is a swamp.

And thus, I believe that the future for Malaysia is one of wanton destruction and murder. Blood will flow freely on the streets. Monkey blood. I hope I'd have died long before then.

Intermission: Hard Rain

I was pissed off in November because I couldn't push my brain and my work 100%. Things were in limbo and I was playing a waiting game. Not by choice.

Suddenly, things start to change. Now, I am in a situation I know all too well - one man with an army of work in front of me. There are others with me, but who will remain standing in the trenches after all is said and done? We shall see. It's time to be that guy again.

Meanwhile, Kuantan is flooded. Again. This happens every single year, for as long as I could remember (1983. I was three years old and the first few memories were of rain and lying snug in my parents' bed).

There was a legendary flood in the late '70s. One more around several years ago. This flood, though, this 2013 flood, is probably the worst.

Water levels have risen very close to my house, which sits atop a small hill. The swamp is catching up to us.

I check with my mother almost every day, except today - too busy today and need my sleep.

This week, I have never had a full night's sleep, often going to bed only around 4am or 6am and waking up around 8am. Not that I couldn't sleep - I just have too much work, and it will pile on even higher.

Which is why I will do two things:

1. I need to sleep this weekend.
2. I will train other people.

Over the years, I have acquired skills that I replicate from other people. The result is a unique combination. I need to get other people to have similar skills so I can go to Thailand and have fun without worrying about any ongoing project.

Unfortunately, over the years, no one has shown an interest in learning anything. Or they are incapable of doing so, due largely to the aversion to work. My style is huge amounts of work that other people are usually intimidated by. Not many are keen to do work, but like to sit around and talk about times when they thought they were diligent. Some people revel in the amount of money they managed to scam. I take pride in earning every single cent either through my immense brain - I am the Greatest Mind of the 21st Century - or via pounding at something until it doesn't move.

Now, if you'll excuse me, there's another proposal to write.

Racism is for Those Who Have Given Up

I have not given up.

I hate people, but I refuse to believe that racists are the norm rather than the exception. I want to believe.

So. When you girls who are neither Malay nor Chinese see me walking, please sit down, cover your moist vaginas, and start making intelligent conversation with me.

I will judge you based on your soul, your brain and your lithe body. I wanna fuck you in the ass.