So. I decided to write a non-fiction book. This book. Well, actually, all this is fiction.
I did it for the lulz.
I wish I could have said that. In ancient Internet jargon, say, circa 2004/2005, I did it for the lulz means doing it for the sheer pleasure of watching other people die and crumble before you. Schadenfreude.
But I am writing this because I am worried. Terribly worried.
There is an impending economic storm in the horizon. The 21st Century no longer looks like an Asian century. We all look like century eggs about to be raped by some fat Azn mouth.
The recent results of the elections(at the time this is written), last March 2008 seemed at first, to be a victory for democracy.
After a few months, it looks more like democracy's fugly stupid sister.
Not two weeks after the much-vaunted 'victory' of the opposition, I sat down with some opposition members and MPs who were already talking about infighting and whatever shit.
Then the double sodomy scandals hit.
I did a poll of DAP members and asked them, "What's your plan for the impending economic crisis?"
The answer was, more often than not, micro-scale bullshit. Like giving money to poor people. Yeah, that's a good thing, but how in the blue hell would that stem the impending economic crisis?
Okay, so some people are wagging the dog with the sodomy scandals. What are they going to do to make sure that the country focuses on important stuff like hetero porn, I mean, like fortifying our trades and shit? Like foreign investments and things with molecular structure and THIS. IS. MY. BOOM. STICK!?
They haven't a clue.
"We think it's an UMNO problem."
Na-ah! It's a PKR problem. AND it's diverting attention and energy ad resources away from the economy and the Government.
And then I asked a stupid fucking general question to these opposition people.
"What do you think of our fossil-fuel based economy?"
"Oh, it's bad."
And? Any ideas?
"We should emulate Singapore."
What the fuck, man? Do you mean to suggest that following Singapore's lead in allowing only half the vehicles on the road on any given day ill actually do anything?
Stop thinking like municipal councils la, dey!
I am sorry to say, but my ass can run the country better than these people. And I am not even saying that I can be a good leader for the nation. I would destroy the country, if I were ever in power.
What I AM saying is that MY ASS can run the country better than these people who say a lot but know jack shit.
I have not asked UMNO people about the impending economic crisis, but I am ASSUMING that their answers would be something like this:
"We will...make some studies...on...the price of...chicken. And...rice...and we will talk to the KSU to release more funds."
Or some shit like that.
Motherfucker.
Since MY ASS is the greatest economist left in this country, I am presenting this book as a guide on how to rule and how to run. Consider it a manifesto I expect politicians and normal people to embrace and shove it up their collective asses.
THIS, my peeps, is HOW you run a country. I know it's not the BEST way, but like I said, MY ASS can run this country better than you.
So, rather than follow your own myopic shit, just follow my ass.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Tales from the Drunk Side: The Amazing Adventures of Amir Hafizi
Amir Hafizi woke up today and discovered that Amir Hafizi is a zombie goast.
"Oh no!" Amir Hafizi exclaimed, like a fag. "I now have to move to the countryside and become friends with John Freeman if I do not want John Freeman to shoot me in the head and it hurts to be shot there."
So Amir Hafizi went to the countryside like the speed of SPEED (ampethamines).
There Amir Hafizi saw many more zombie goasts. And headcrab zombies. And dead pants.
"Join us," said the zombie goasts to Amir Hafizi.
"NEVER!" said Amir Hafizi and shot something special at the zombie goasts. Then Amir Hafizi went on his motorcycl which was fast and had gas in it, though gas is expensive nowadays, and he went to a motel.
There, he met ego-bimbo-bitch final boss.
"I am headcrab zombie!" said Ego-Bimbo-Bitch Final Boss.
"No!" said Amir Hafizi. "You just have crabs."
And he found a wepon, yes a WEPON near a fountain and started shooting real fast at Ego-Bimbo-Bitch with crabs.
The bullets were fire bullets and burned all of Ego-Bimbo-Bitch's crabs.
"My crabs!" She screamed. But she was dead.
On the way out of the motel Amir Hafizi saw Milx, aka Mahathir Buang who STILL owes him RM11,700 and shoots WEPON at him.
"My crabs!" yelled Milx, but he was also dead.
"No you are not dead yet, Milx," said Amir Hafizi to Milx who was really just almost dead after being shot with WEPON.
"You have to move to the countryside and be friends with John Freeman and pay me my money first."
So Amir Hafizi brought Milx to the countryside and sold him as a bitch to the zombie goasts.
"Thank you, Amir Hafizi! For bringing us Milx which now has become our bitch. Here is RM11,700 for this kid's ass."
"Thank you," said Amir Hafizi. "This will help me pay my credit cards and my rent when some OTHER people have not paid me money yet which I thought would be good to give to the landlady who collects my rent."
And then Amir Hafizi went and started killing more zombie goasts even though he, himself, is a zombie goasts.
"Oh no!" Amir Hafizi exclaimed, like a fag. "I now have to move to the countryside and become friends with John Freeman if I do not want John Freeman to shoot me in the head and it hurts to be shot there."
So Amir Hafizi went to the countryside like the speed of SPEED (ampethamines).
There Amir Hafizi saw many more zombie goasts. And headcrab zombies. And dead pants.
"Join us," said the zombie goasts to Amir Hafizi.
"NEVER!" said Amir Hafizi and shot something special at the zombie goasts. Then Amir Hafizi went on his motorcycl which was fast and had gas in it, though gas is expensive nowadays, and he went to a motel.
There, he met ego-bimbo-bitch final boss.
"I am headcrab zombie!" said Ego-Bimbo-Bitch Final Boss.
"No!" said Amir Hafizi. "You just have crabs."
And he found a wepon, yes a WEPON near a fountain and started shooting real fast at Ego-Bimbo-Bitch with crabs.
The bullets were fire bullets and burned all of Ego-Bimbo-Bitch's crabs.
"My crabs!" She screamed. But she was dead.
On the way out of the motel Amir Hafizi saw Milx, aka Mahathir Buang who STILL owes him RM11,700 and shoots WEPON at him.
"My crabs!" yelled Milx, but he was also dead.
"No you are not dead yet, Milx," said Amir Hafizi to Milx who was really just almost dead after being shot with WEPON.
"You have to move to the countryside and be friends with John Freeman and pay me my money first."
So Amir Hafizi brought Milx to the countryside and sold him as a bitch to the zombie goasts.
"Thank you, Amir Hafizi! For bringing us Milx which now has become our bitch. Here is RM11,700 for this kid's ass."
"Thank you," said Amir Hafizi. "This will help me pay my credit cards and my rent when some OTHER people have not paid me money yet which I thought would be good to give to the landlady who collects my rent."
And then Amir Hafizi went and started killing more zombie goasts even though he, himself, is a zombie goasts.
ThunderCunts, GO!
Today was such a blah day. Blah. Blah. Blah.
The world is ending. Everything's dying. Everything's becoming more expensive. Blah. Blah. Blah.
Minions are undermining everything.
"Though everyone lives above us, NOTHING is beneath us!" - The Underminer.
Gremlins, the lot of them.
In these times of trouble, I call upon the ancient spirits.
"ANCIENT SPIRITS OF EEEEEEVIL! Transform this decaying form to The Malay Male - the EVARRRRR LIVIIIIING!!!1!ONE!"
But I would then have to fight the ThunderCunts.
ThunderCunts!
KEBISHZSH!
NONG NGENENG NGENNONG
TET TERET TET TEEEEEEEEE!
E-EEEEKK!
ThunderCunts are on the move
ThunderCunts are loose
Feel the magic
Hear the roar
ThunderCunts are loose.
Thunder, Thunder, Thunder Cunts!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!1!ONE!
I draw from the source of all evil. I call forth Lucifer Morningstar. I am selling my soul for USD400 million. Though you might only get a soul that is ALREADY damned to hell.
But this, too, shall pass. I will not let some stupid idiots get to me. I am Amadeus! I am Loved by God. Ramble ramble ramble.
I am not Emo Shit.
I will prevail. Suck it in!
The Malay Male will now take navigational control.
Acknowledge, April. Navigational control, ON. The Malay Male Challenge Phase - ONE.
Head 'em up,
Move 'em out.
Powerstrike, and ready to ride.
FULL WEAPONS MATRIX!
The world is ending. Everything's dying. Everything's becoming more expensive. Blah. Blah. Blah.
Minions are undermining everything.
"Though everyone lives above us, NOTHING is beneath us!" - The Underminer.
Gremlins, the lot of them.
In these times of trouble, I call upon the ancient spirits.
"ANCIENT SPIRITS OF EEEEEEVIL! Transform this decaying form to The Malay Male - the EVARRRRR LIVIIIIING!!!1!ONE!"
But I would then have to fight the ThunderCunts.
ThunderCunts!
KEBISHZSH!
NONG NGENENG NGENNONG
TET TERET TET TEEEEEEEEE!
E-EEEEKK!
ThunderCunts are on the move
ThunderCunts are loose
Feel the magic
Hear the roar
ThunderCunts are loose.
Thunder, Thunder, Thunder Cunts!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!1!ONE!
I draw from the source of all evil. I call forth Lucifer Morningstar. I am selling my soul for USD400 million. Though you might only get a soul that is ALREADY damned to hell.
But this, too, shall pass. I will not let some stupid idiots get to me. I am Amadeus! I am Loved by God. Ramble ramble ramble.
I am not Emo Shit.
I will prevail. Suck it in!
The Malay Male will now take navigational control.
Acknowledge, April. Navigational control, ON. The Malay Male Challenge Phase - ONE.
Head 'em up,
Move 'em out.
Powerstrike, and ready to ride.
FULL WEAPONS MATRIX!
Season of Mists
A toast, for a better tomorrow:
- From Season of Mists, The Sandman, Written by Lord Shaper Neil Gaiman
To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due.
- From Season of Mists, The Sandman, Written by Lord Shaper Neil Gaiman
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
I Miss You
I scratched my balls (edited. Previously misspelled as ballas) as I balanced the receiver on the side of my head.
Me: I don't think this is working.
She: What is not working?
Me: This long distance relationship thing. Tell me what you're wearing.
She: SHiny things.
Me: Are you wet?
She: Always.
Me: I miss you. I always do. Not a day goes by without me dreaming I'm inside you.
She: Fuck.
Me: Yes, please.
She: No, that was corny-
Me: I know.
She: - but I'm horny. More.
Me: Well, when I'm with you, I'm not paranoid anymore. I am at the source of power. I am safe and warm -
She: Hot.
Me: Hot. And nothing, absolutely nothing could hurt me.
She: So when you coming over?
Me: As soon as I can. Maybe during Ramadan.
She: Well, I gotta go. Lots of clients. Good night, Amir.
Me: Good night, Bangkok.
Me: I don't think this is working.
She: What is not working?
Me: This long distance relationship thing. Tell me what you're wearing.
She: SHiny things.
Me: Are you wet?
She: Always.
Me: I miss you. I always do. Not a day goes by without me dreaming I'm inside you.
She: Fuck.
Me: Yes, please.
She: No, that was corny-
Me: I know.
She: - but I'm horny. More.
Me: Well, when I'm with you, I'm not paranoid anymore. I am at the source of power. I am safe and warm -
She: Hot.
Me: Hot. And nothing, absolutely nothing could hurt me.
She: So when you coming over?
Me: As soon as I can. Maybe during Ramadan.
She: Well, I gotta go. Lots of clients. Good night, Amir.
Me: Good night, Bangkok.
House of Mystery
When I found out, I can safely say that I was not entirely surprised.
I mean, I declare myself as the most righteous motherfucker the world has ever known. But deep down inside, I know that is not true. EVERYONE is a righteous motherfucker.
EVeryone wants to be right. No one wants to be wrong.
On occasion, I wanted so badly to be wrong. But I never was. And I would often try to tell people about the REAL truth behind things, but I later realize that for some people, the truth is some kind of poison.
And, in the words of Morpheus the Dream King, as written by the Great Neil Gaiman, "It is a fool's prerogative to utter truths that no one else would."
More often than not, I AM that fool. I WAS that fool. Right now, I am too old. too ANCIENT. Too long in the tooth to actually risk life and limb and force people to face reality.
There are those whom you are afraid to lie to, so you will always tell them the truth. Then there are those whom you are afraid to tell the truth to. And this batch is more varied. More common, though they think themselves as special.
Let us just, for the sake of false peace, agree to discard this truth I have discovered behind the mask of loyalty, obseiance and love. And let it be buried behind my cursed and gifted eyes and mind.
For if you want a fool, they're having a sale soon. I'm afraid, that I quit being that.
No more. This is done. Good luck.
I mean, I declare myself as the most righteous motherfucker the world has ever known. But deep down inside, I know that is not true. EVERYONE is a righteous motherfucker.
EVeryone wants to be right. No one wants to be wrong.
On occasion, I wanted so badly to be wrong. But I never was. And I would often try to tell people about the REAL truth behind things, but I later realize that for some people, the truth is some kind of poison.
And, in the words of Morpheus the Dream King, as written by the Great Neil Gaiman, "It is a fool's prerogative to utter truths that no one else would."
More often than not, I AM that fool. I WAS that fool. Right now, I am too old. too ANCIENT. Too long in the tooth to actually risk life and limb and force people to face reality.
There are those whom you are afraid to lie to, so you will always tell them the truth. Then there are those whom you are afraid to tell the truth to. And this batch is more varied. More common, though they think themselves as special.
Let us just, for the sake of false peace, agree to discard this truth I have discovered behind the mask of loyalty, obseiance and love. And let it be buried behind my cursed and gifted eyes and mind.
For if you want a fool, they're having a sale soon. I'm afraid, that I quit being that.
No more. This is done. Good luck.
Memories of Things to Come
People, especially the older generation, seem to think of the Internet as a series of tubes. I mean, they think that the internet as something magical.
Probably the same way that their fathers thought that the television as a magic box.
It's crazy, isn't it? They hear about stuff happening on the Internet and they smile with this oafish grin on their face, and probably give some small shakes to the head.
The internet is NOT magic. And neither are hydrogen fuel-cells or flying cars. Or protein-based microprocessors. Or fiber-optic processors that uses photons (light particles) travelling through prisms instead of current through copper wires/semiconductors.
Web 2.0, and now web 3.0 is a scam. Just like 3G phones and 4G phones. What does 3G or 3.0 mean? Nothing. It's an attempt by marketeers to put a name and box the progress of technology.
In the near future, we shall see electric cars on Malaysian roads. The APs for hybrids are already out. And hybrids are just a stupid, expensive intermediate level before we go full electric. Or hydrogen.
And please welcome the advent of Malaysian nuclear energy as well. There is nowhere else to go. Oil will be precious for the manufacturing of polymers - used everywhere from the plastic industry to paint to coatings, which affect ALL products.
The future, my friends, will be one of cotton and glass. And natural rubber.
Well, at least condoms will be safe.
The world is going to starve soon. 9 billion people by as close as 2012. Or 2020. Who gives a shit? One day, we will be eating mushrooms and fungi harvested from old oil rigs.
Moisture farms will be set up in Singapore. They will buy our nuclear energy for a cheap price in order to de-salinize sea water. In fact, sea water could be hooked up to homes in order for them to do general cleaning. Special detergent sans salt will be sold in Singapore.
Newspapers will one day have to be printed from vending machines, or downloaded into your laptop or universal readers.
I tell my father all these things, and he's STILL enamoured with the TV. TV is nothing. A TV is just a cathode ray tube firing electrons at a screen. Or more recently information translated across liquid crystal displays.
The duo-core processor is just two processors in one. The same technology with server arrays. Or synchronised computing like the one done by geeks as early as 1995.
No idea is new. You know what STILL amazes ME? Bread. How did people, from seeing something that looks like stupid weed, can harvest wheat, grind it up, mix it with water, later yeast and leave it for the leavening process, then poke the air out, and then bake it to make a baguette.
That process has to be perfected over hundreds, if not thousands of years. The next jump in technology will be in the next few years. Already, I feel old and obsolete.
Pretty soon, I will be on my death bed, praying that the euthanasia clause in my insurance policy holds out.
Probably the same way that their fathers thought that the television as a magic box.
It's crazy, isn't it? They hear about stuff happening on the Internet and they smile with this oafish grin on their face, and probably give some small shakes to the head.
The internet is NOT magic. And neither are hydrogen fuel-cells or flying cars. Or protein-based microprocessors. Or fiber-optic processors that uses photons (light particles) travelling through prisms instead of current through copper wires/semiconductors.
Web 2.0, and now web 3.0 is a scam. Just like 3G phones and 4G phones. What does 3G or 3.0 mean? Nothing. It's an attempt by marketeers to put a name and box the progress of technology.
In the near future, we shall see electric cars on Malaysian roads. The APs for hybrids are already out. And hybrids are just a stupid, expensive intermediate level before we go full electric. Or hydrogen.
And please welcome the advent of Malaysian nuclear energy as well. There is nowhere else to go. Oil will be precious for the manufacturing of polymers - used everywhere from the plastic industry to paint to coatings, which affect ALL products.
The future, my friends, will be one of cotton and glass. And natural rubber.
Well, at least condoms will be safe.
The world is going to starve soon. 9 billion people by as close as 2012. Or 2020. Who gives a shit? One day, we will be eating mushrooms and fungi harvested from old oil rigs.
Moisture farms will be set up in Singapore. They will buy our nuclear energy for a cheap price in order to de-salinize sea water. In fact, sea water could be hooked up to homes in order for them to do general cleaning. Special detergent sans salt will be sold in Singapore.
Newspapers will one day have to be printed from vending machines, or downloaded into your laptop or universal readers.
I tell my father all these things, and he's STILL enamoured with the TV. TV is nothing. A TV is just a cathode ray tube firing electrons at a screen. Or more recently information translated across liquid crystal displays.
The duo-core processor is just two processors in one. The same technology with server arrays. Or synchronised computing like the one done by geeks as early as 1995.
No idea is new. You know what STILL amazes ME? Bread. How did people, from seeing something that looks like stupid weed, can harvest wheat, grind it up, mix it with water, later yeast and leave it for the leavening process, then poke the air out, and then bake it to make a baguette.
That process has to be perfected over hundreds, if not thousands of years. The next jump in technology will be in the next few years. Already, I feel old and obsolete.
Pretty soon, I will be on my death bed, praying that the euthanasia clause in my insurance policy holds out.
Prostatots, Religion and I Am an Old Man
"We need religion," said the guy.
"What for?" I asked, hypothetically, of course.
"So that we can make money. Capitalize on the whole shit."
"We need religion," said another, "As guidance on how to live our lives."
"Do not make John Lennon's words true," said the guy. "Otherwise, how can we make money? Religion causes division and terrorism and bigotry and misunderstandings. Do you really want to live in a world where the news is all about ponies and fairies?"
I live now, today, when there are such words as PROSTATOTS.
PROSTATOTS - (n) A preteen girl who dresses like a prostitute.
Clear heels and all, motherfucker! Just go and see how the kids below 12 today are dressing up. I saw some with vests, knee-high boots or Mary-Janes, short neon-green tutu skirts. And braces.
And kids below 12 usually have very little say about the way they dress. It's usually the parents' choice. So when the mother is repressed cause she didn't have the chance to dress up like a ho, she would impose the kind of dressing that would ensure her getting picked up at Brickfields for RM30, on her daughter.
"It's okay," they say. "She hasn't had her period yet. No aurat."
Yeah, but that doesn't stop sick pedos from raping them with vegetable.
Look, I'm no moralist. I don't even have any dignity, though I have honour. Dignity = maruah. Honour cannot be translated into Malay properly.
I mean, I LOVE Thai prostitutes. I find a kindred spirit in them and make connections with them all the time. More often than not, I consider that I am the same as the Thai hookers. We are in the same fucking predicament.
And I would freely give up my life if I could save the lives of the hos in Thailand.
Back to Prostatots.
It would have been fine if the parents actually made sure that the prostatots are under surveillance or are trained to deal with the big, bad world.
Most of the time, they just leave the kids, low-riding skirt and plunging neckline wandering alone at pasar malams. If I was a pervert, I could have just nabbed the prostatots and throw her in my as-yet non-existent SUV.
Then it's prepubescent raping time, motherfucker!
So I live in a world of prostatots. In a world where all the loopholes in the original religions are exploited for man's own bullshit.
So pardon me if I believe that something is wrong, somewhere.
My pimp senses have been tingling for 28 years. The only reprieve is when I get to Thailand and can finally relax.
So yeah, I am an old man. I look ten years older than I am, and I feel even older. Most of the interesting conversations I have are with people much, much older than I am. I am beginning to find people my age or within range as boring.
They are all caught up with stupid shit like high-school politics and BREEDING. BREEDING, BREEDING, BREEDING. Just apply pressure on your dick or vagina, and stop the fucking breeding already!
Or better yet, just cover your mouth and shut the fuck up about breeding. It's not even sexy. It's disgusting. You let a parasite rob you of nutrients and nine months later, you expel it from your vaginal canal, bloody, messy, stinky and full of crap.
Sometimes, I wish that I was never conceived. Wish that my father would have just shot his load elsewhere.
Looks like I have yet to find my tribe.
"What for?" I asked, hypothetically, of course.
"So that we can make money. Capitalize on the whole shit."
"We need religion," said another, "As guidance on how to live our lives."
"Do not make John Lennon's words true," said the guy. "Otherwise, how can we make money? Religion causes division and terrorism and bigotry and misunderstandings. Do you really want to live in a world where the news is all about ponies and fairies?"
I live now, today, when there are such words as PROSTATOTS.
PROSTATOTS - (n) A preteen girl who dresses like a prostitute.
Clear heels and all, motherfucker! Just go and see how the kids below 12 today are dressing up. I saw some with vests, knee-high boots or Mary-Janes, short neon-green tutu skirts. And braces.
And kids below 12 usually have very little say about the way they dress. It's usually the parents' choice. So when the mother is repressed cause she didn't have the chance to dress up like a ho, she would impose the kind of dressing that would ensure her getting picked up at Brickfields for RM30, on her daughter.
"It's okay," they say. "She hasn't had her period yet. No aurat."
Yeah, but that doesn't stop sick pedos from raping them with vegetable.
Look, I'm no moralist. I don't even have any dignity, though I have honour. Dignity = maruah. Honour cannot be translated into Malay properly.
I mean, I LOVE Thai prostitutes. I find a kindred spirit in them and make connections with them all the time. More often than not, I consider that I am the same as the Thai hookers. We are in the same fucking predicament.
And I would freely give up my life if I could save the lives of the hos in Thailand.
Back to Prostatots.
It would have been fine if the parents actually made sure that the prostatots are under surveillance or are trained to deal with the big, bad world.
Most of the time, they just leave the kids, low-riding skirt and plunging neckline wandering alone at pasar malams. If I was a pervert, I could have just nabbed the prostatots and throw her in my as-yet non-existent SUV.
Then it's prepubescent raping time, motherfucker!
So I live in a world of prostatots. In a world where all the loopholes in the original religions are exploited for man's own bullshit.
So pardon me if I believe that something is wrong, somewhere.
My pimp senses have been tingling for 28 years. The only reprieve is when I get to Thailand and can finally relax.
So yeah, I am an old man. I look ten years older than I am, and I feel even older. Most of the interesting conversations I have are with people much, much older than I am. I am beginning to find people my age or within range as boring.
They are all caught up with stupid shit like high-school politics and BREEDING. BREEDING, BREEDING, BREEDING. Just apply pressure on your dick or vagina, and stop the fucking breeding already!
Or better yet, just cover your mouth and shut the fuck up about breeding. It's not even sexy. It's disgusting. You let a parasite rob you of nutrients and nine months later, you expel it from your vaginal canal, bloody, messy, stinky and full of crap.
Sometimes, I wish that I was never conceived. Wish that my father would have just shot his load elsewhere.
Looks like I have yet to find my tribe.
Semusim Di Syurga: Soalan Cepumas
Aku dengar, kalau kompeni yang listed kat Bursa Malaysia, tak bayar gaji staff seminggu, boleh kena suspend trading, kan?
Nak jimat ribu-ribu, rugi juta-juta.
Kan? KAN?! KANN?!
KHANNNNNN!!!!1
Banyak sangat member aku yang kerja buat website untuk kompeni-kompeni besar yang dah berbulan-bulan tak dapat gaji.
Taulah harga minyak dah naik. Jangan la buat camtu. Periuk nasi (atau kuali capati) orang tu, beb.
Dahlah Malaysia ni dia punya union tak sekata.
Aku cadangkan kat semua yang ada masalah sama supaya berhijrah je ke UK. Takpun Thailand.
Pasal negara ni bakal dilanda krisi ekonomi yang teruk, kalau tak ambik pot dan asyik fokus kat kes liwat dan memasukkan zakar ke dalam dubur je.
Nak jimat ribu-ribu, rugi juta-juta.
Kan? KAN?! KANN?!
KHANNNNNN!!!!1
Banyak sangat member aku yang kerja buat website untuk kompeni-kompeni besar yang dah berbulan-bulan tak dapat gaji.
Taulah harga minyak dah naik. Jangan la buat camtu. Periuk nasi (atau kuali capati) orang tu, beb.
Dahlah Malaysia ni dia punya union tak sekata.
Aku cadangkan kat semua yang ada masalah sama supaya berhijrah je ke UK. Takpun Thailand.
Pasal negara ni bakal dilanda krisi ekonomi yang teruk, kalau tak ambik pot dan asyik fokus kat kes liwat dan memasukkan zakar ke dalam dubur je.
Monday, July 7, 2008
The Best on the Internet
by sqirrelking
John Freeman who was Gordon Freemans brother was one day in an office typing on a computer. He got an email from his brother that said that aliens and monsters were attacking his place and aksed him for help so he went.
John Freeman got his computer shut down and wet on the platform to go up to the roof of the building where he left his motorcycle and normal people close because he was in his office lab coat. John Freeman got on his motorcycl and said "its time for me to live up to my family name and face full life consequences" so he had to go.
John Freeman ramped off the building and did a backflip and landed. He kept driving down the road and made sure there was no zombies around because he ddint have weapon.
The contrysides were nice and the plants were singing and the birds and the sun was almost down from the top of the sky. the mood was set for John Freemans quest to help his brother where he was. John Freeman looked around the countrysides and said "its a good day to do what has to be done by me and help my brother to defeat the enemys".
John Freeman was late so he had to drive really fast. A cop car was hiden near by so when John Freeman went by the cops came and wanted to give him a ticket. Here John Freeman saw the first monster because the cop was posessed and had headcrabs.
"I cant give you my lisense officer" John Freeman said
"Why not?" said the headcrab oficer back to John Freeman.
"Because you are headcrab zombie" so John Freeman shot the oficer in the head and drove off thinking "my brother is in trouble there" and went faster.
John Freeman had to go faster like the speed of sound and got there fast because Gordon needed him where he was. John Freeman looked at road signs and saw "Ravenholm" with someons writing under it saying "u shudnt come here" so John Freeman almost turned around but heard screaming like Gordon so he went faster again.
John Freeman drove in and did another flip n jumped off his motorbike and the motor bike took out some headcrab zombies infront of John Freeman. John Freeman smiled and walked fast. John Freeman then looked on the ground and found wepon so he pickd it up and fired fast at zombie goasts in front of a house.
John Freeman said "Zombie goasts leave this place" and the zombie goasts said "but this is our house" and John Freeman felt sorry for them becaus they couldnt live there anymore because they were zombie goasts so he blew up the house and killed the zombie goasts so they were at piece.
Then John Freeman herd another scream from his brother so he kept walking really faster to get where he was. Ravenholdm was nothing like the countrysides there was no birds singing and the pants were dead and teh dirt was messy and bloody from headcrabs.
When John Freeman got to where the screaming was started from he found his brother Gorden Freeman fightin the final bosss and Gordon said "John Freeman! Over here!" so John Freeman went there to where Gordon Freeman was fighting. John Freeman fired his bullet from teh gun really fast and the bullets went and shot the final boss in the eyes and the final boss couldnt see.
Gordon Freeman said "its time to end this ones and for all!" and punched the final boss in the face and the final boss fell. John Freeman said "thanks i could help, bro" and Gordon Freeman said "you should come here earlier next time" and they laughed.
The laughed overed quickly though because John Freeman yelled "LOOK OUT BRO!" and pointed up to the top of the sky. Gordon Freeman looked up and said "NOO! John Freeman run out of here fast as you can!" and John Freeman walked real fast out.
John Freeman loked back and saw Gordon get steppd on by the next boss and he was mad and angry.
"I'll get you back evil boss!" John Freeman yelled at the top of lungs.
to be continued..?
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Strike My Ass
I will be busy for the next few days, maybe few weeks.
Since none of you made me a millionaire, I now have to take matters into my own hands.
Goddamn you rich motherfuckers. Just give me money la. Motherfucker.
Since none of you made me a millionaire, I now have to take matters into my own hands.
Goddamn you rich motherfuckers. Just give me money la. Motherfucker.
On the Bra-Burner
I have been accused of being a bra-burner.
I admit that sometimes, with some women, I'd love to burn their bras.
Some, for obvious reasons. I love nipples. Some, because they're lying.
I mean, come on, man, your tits aren't that big! You fucking stuffed some padding.
There are many types of padding. SOme are sponge, but advancement in polymers have made available silicon sacs.
In the industry, we call 'em chicken cutlets. These can increase women's sizes from A to DD. Or even F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N O or even P.
I'm not kidding you. There are manufacturers who come up with sizes up to P. I don't know if it is for a woman, or a gorilla.
The thing with silicon is that some people are alergic to it or something. Not the silicon, but the coating or the material around the sac. Then there's the temperature issue.
See, the advantage of silicon is that it feels and reacts almost the same way as adipose tissues.
They will get the body temperature and a lot of women say that it's like an extension of their titties.
However, seasoned experts can immediately tell whether or not silicon is used as padding. Use the Force.
Then there's sponge, which is a more traditional 'additive'. For some reason, most women still prefer this thing.
Some bras today have wire support. Their tits will sag, but the wires will support them like re-inforced concrete. Try punching a woman in the chest. Chances are, she will not feel any pain, if she is wearing underwire support.
Another advantage of underwires is the fact that if you are trapped in a room by mad men bent on taking over the world, you can use the underwire to pick the lock and save the day. This was illustrated in a Jefri Zain movie. Malaysia's very own James Bond.
So yes, for mad men bent on taking over the world like me, burning bras can ensure that spies cannot pick locks and have to face the wrath of my sharks with lasers on their foreheads.
The first time I catch a spy with an underwire bra, I'm burning her bra!
(This is way more interesting than writing about the Anwar sodomy case)
I admit that sometimes, with some women, I'd love to burn their bras.
Some, for obvious reasons. I love nipples. Some, because they're lying.
I mean, come on, man, your tits aren't that big! You fucking stuffed some padding.
There are many types of padding. SOme are sponge, but advancement in polymers have made available silicon sacs.
In the industry, we call 'em chicken cutlets. These can increase women's sizes from A to DD. Or even F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N O or even P.
I'm not kidding you. There are manufacturers who come up with sizes up to P. I don't know if it is for a woman, or a gorilla.
The thing with silicon is that some people are alergic to it or something. Not the silicon, but the coating or the material around the sac. Then there's the temperature issue.
See, the advantage of silicon is that it feels and reacts almost the same way as adipose tissues.
They will get the body temperature and a lot of women say that it's like an extension of their titties.
However, seasoned experts can immediately tell whether or not silicon is used as padding. Use the Force.
Then there's sponge, which is a more traditional 'additive'. For some reason, most women still prefer this thing.
Some bras today have wire support. Their tits will sag, but the wires will support them like re-inforced concrete. Try punching a woman in the chest. Chances are, she will not feel any pain, if she is wearing underwire support.
Another advantage of underwires is the fact that if you are trapped in a room by mad men bent on taking over the world, you can use the underwire to pick the lock and save the day. This was illustrated in a Jefri Zain movie. Malaysia's very own James Bond.
So yes, for mad men bent on taking over the world like me, burning bras can ensure that spies cannot pick locks and have to face the wrath of my sharks with lasers on their foreheads.
The first time I catch a spy with an underwire bra, I'm burning her bra!
(This is way more interesting than writing about the Anwar sodomy case)
100
Sham-Pagan and Ctulhu Fthagn! And RM30 young-uns!
So tonight, I was at the Blog-House. I watched some auctions going on and participated at the RM10 level.
"These items are worth at least RM400!" said the auctioneer.
"RM10!" I bid.
The it went out of control and some people bid more than a few hundred for some of the whatever.
"This antique watch was said to be worth at least RM2,000!"
"RM10!"
"This is a one of a kind poster with signatories from six different parties!"
"RM10!"
None of the items went for under RM430.
But it was for the maintenance of the BlogHouse, so it was cool. The amount raised, announced at the end of the night, was sizeable, but not big enough to encourage embezzlement.
I notice that with more at stake, people tend to be more corrupt. I mean, in a bigger organisation handling billions of dollars, everyone will look to screw each other. In the ass.
Like, duh.
So All Blogs now have a place, and a war chest. A stash. Don't spend it all on beer.
So tonight, I was at the Blog-House. I watched some auctions going on and participated at the RM10 level.
"These items are worth at least RM400!" said the auctioneer.
"RM10!" I bid.
The it went out of control and some people bid more than a few hundred for some of the whatever.
"This antique watch was said to be worth at least RM2,000!"
"RM10!"
"This is a one of a kind poster with signatories from six different parties!"
"RM10!"
None of the items went for under RM430.
But it was for the maintenance of the BlogHouse, so it was cool. The amount raised, announced at the end of the night, was sizeable, but not big enough to encourage embezzlement.
I notice that with more at stake, people tend to be more corrupt. I mean, in a bigger organisation handling billions of dollars, everyone will look to screw each other. In the ass.
Like, duh.
So All Blogs now have a place, and a war chest. A stash. Don't spend it all on beer.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Emancipation Proclamation
You know what this cunt-ry needs? A conscience. And more go go bars.
Nothing can be done about the latter, but there is something about the former.
This cunt-ry will have a conscience when the women are emancipated. I'm not talking about putting a few token female ministers or a woman Prime Minister in office. Ooooh. We have a female governor of Bank Negara. No offense to Zeti, but BIG FUCKING DEAL. What about the rest of the 13 million or so women all over the cunt-ry? I'm talking about releasing half of our workforce, half of our brains, and getting the cunt-ry to run at 100% efficiency.
Look, technically I'm a Malay, and I'm definitely a man. I am a lazy motherfucker. In my travels to Thailand, I have seen what can happen when women run some of the shows. Some of the deals. I don't have to do all the work! I can just sit back, relax and contribute whenever I can or whenever I want to.
I have lived in a world, a microcosm of a world where men rule everything - at an all-boys boarding school. The result is a society in which everyone wants to screw everyone. In the ass.
Except for me, cause I'm not everyone. I wrote about this a few weeks ago and sure enough, even our two prime candidates for the PM's office is now accused of preferring anal sex.
I'm not talking about letting women run rampant and become tyrants either, because that would be stupid. If women run the whole show, all we would see on TV are reruns of Desperate Housewives and Ugly Betty. And everything will be so dramatic.
Imagine these headlines, if women are in men's position right now:
I FEEL SO BETRAYED - MADAM PM
CUNNILINGUS CHARGES ABSURD - WAN AZIZAH
It's not a question of who should be in charge. It's a question of who should be WORKING to make this stupid place great again.
What I AM talking about, friends, Romulans and cunt-rymen, is to get women out of their cages, off their asses, and do their share of the work.
Right now, most women are trapped into doing cooking, cleaning, (chores the maid can do) BREEDING or scenting their smelly vaginas to attract a male.
They bear what, 4, 6, 7 children? Then they get beat up. Rather than using them as baby factories, shouldn't we get them to run our factories for us?
All those women trapped all over the cunt-ry, to just sit there and wait for a man to sniff at her pussy and appoint her as his personal slave. When she can be everyone's slave. Don't be so selfish, foo!
Why are we wasting 60% of our most educated citizens on menial jobs like BREEDING and finding a mate? Shouldn't they shoulder some of this responsibility as well?
Cause I sure as hell don't want MORE responsibility. Hell, I'm eight years old, man! Forever! What the fuck you want me to do?
Imagine a world where the women make difficult studies and decisions. Where they go to work. Where a man can just stay at home and watch TV. And porn. Wouldn't you like to get picked up by a hot chick now and then at a club? This could only happen if women are liberated from their stupid domestic chores and start hauling their weight. And we should let them. ladies and gentleman and barbarians and fags and sodomites, we should let them!
I see a few things standing in the way of their emancipation:
1. Religion
No, not REAL religion. Not the TRUE religion, but a misguided interpretation of religion.
Women should just shut up, get married, get beaten up and just get their pussies ripped when a parasite exits the womb.
Fuck that, man.
I'm not telling you to drop religion and be agnostic or atheist.
You can be religious and excel at what you do, and take up more responsibility. Religion should never, EVER hold you back. If religion IS holding you back, then something is wrong somewhere.
A lot of the stupid interpretations say that men should lead and women should just follow and continue washing their vaginas with minyak atar.
I'll ask this question:
Is God a man?
The fact of the matter is, for the past few thousand years or so, the men won the battle for supremacy. In order for us to keep our winnings and our victories, we changed religion so that it should suit us and our needs. Like sex. And beating up women.
Well, our needs have changed, son!
Don't tell me we haven't evolved, primates!
Our problems are now multi-faceted and multi-dimensional. WHy should we solve it for everyone when the woman can do it for us?
2. Society
The current Malaysian society places women as lower than trash.
When trash gets dumped, we send it to a landfill. When a woman gets dumped, we rape them. Well, not really, but sometimes I wished that was true.
When a woman gets beaten up, she sometimes gets something worse than rape. Betrayal. By her fellow monkeys.
Society and our communities have forced women to think of themselves as nothing better than sperm banks. Incubators. Baby factories. Holes for dicks to fuck.
A woman is successful only if she is able to find a mate and after mating with the fucker, bear many children. Even though they won't have enough money and/or brains to raise the brats, they are still considered successful.
Why? Cause when the kids grow up, they will suck the life of the kids by turning them into living, breathing, insurance policies.
Bitch: Oh, it's easy la for me when I'm old. I'll just use my children to give me money cause I spent all of mine to buy a motorcycle for them so they can be Mat Rempits and take aramine 5.
Oooh. Real successful, bitches. Fucking vampires. Stupid.
Conclusion:
I have seen women leaders, and NONE of them impress me. They suck. Why? Because we do not currently have a good batch to choose from. They still have their hang-ups from society, from religion, and from their desire to be SEEN AS successful. Successful as defined by their stupid community. See how stupid community is?
I know that writing this will not change anything. And tomorrow, I still have to haul my sorry ass to my computer and do some work instead of just staying in bed and let a woman rape me. But who gives a shit? I had a few Jaka Denials already.
Dr M gave the cunt-ry balls. And we have so many dicks and assholes already. Now it's time for somebody to give it a vagina.
EDIT: FINAL POINT - and if anything goes wrong, we can always BLAME IT ON THE WOMAN. I WIN!
Nothing can be done about the latter, but there is something about the former.
This cunt-ry will have a conscience when the women are emancipated. I'm not talking about putting a few token female ministers or a woman Prime Minister in office. Ooooh. We have a female governor of Bank Negara. No offense to Zeti, but BIG FUCKING DEAL. What about the rest of the 13 million or so women all over the cunt-ry? I'm talking about releasing half of our workforce, half of our brains, and getting the cunt-ry to run at 100% efficiency.
Look, technically I'm a Malay, and I'm definitely a man. I am a lazy motherfucker. In my travels to Thailand, I have seen what can happen when women run some of the shows. Some of the deals. I don't have to do all the work! I can just sit back, relax and contribute whenever I can or whenever I want to.
I have lived in a world, a microcosm of a world where men rule everything - at an all-boys boarding school. The result is a society in which everyone wants to screw everyone. In the ass.
Except for me, cause I'm not everyone. I wrote about this a few weeks ago and sure enough, even our two prime candidates for the PM's office is now accused of preferring anal sex.
I'm not talking about letting women run rampant and become tyrants either, because that would be stupid. If women run the whole show, all we would see on TV are reruns of Desperate Housewives and Ugly Betty. And everything will be so dramatic.
Imagine these headlines, if women are in men's position right now:
I FEEL SO BETRAYED - MADAM PM
CUNNILINGUS CHARGES ABSURD - WAN AZIZAH
It's not a question of who should be in charge. It's a question of who should be WORKING to make this stupid place great again.
What I AM talking about, friends, Romulans and cunt-rymen, is to get women out of their cages, off their asses, and do their share of the work.
Right now, most women are trapped into doing cooking, cleaning, (chores the maid can do) BREEDING or scenting their smelly vaginas to attract a male.
They bear what, 4, 6, 7 children? Then they get beat up. Rather than using them as baby factories, shouldn't we get them to run our factories for us?
All those women trapped all over the cunt-ry, to just sit there and wait for a man to sniff at her pussy and appoint her as his personal slave. When she can be everyone's slave. Don't be so selfish, foo!
Why are we wasting 60% of our most educated citizens on menial jobs like BREEDING and finding a mate? Shouldn't they shoulder some of this responsibility as well?
Cause I sure as hell don't want MORE responsibility. Hell, I'm eight years old, man! Forever! What the fuck you want me to do?
Imagine a world where the women make difficult studies and decisions. Where they go to work. Where a man can just stay at home and watch TV. And porn. Wouldn't you like to get picked up by a hot chick now and then at a club? This could only happen if women are liberated from their stupid domestic chores and start hauling their weight. And we should let them. ladies and gentleman and barbarians and fags and sodomites, we should let them!
I see a few things standing in the way of their emancipation:
1. Religion
No, not REAL religion. Not the TRUE religion, but a misguided interpretation of religion.
Women should just shut up, get married, get beaten up and just get their pussies ripped when a parasite exits the womb.
Fuck that, man.
I'm not telling you to drop religion and be agnostic or atheist.
You can be religious and excel at what you do, and take up more responsibility. Religion should never, EVER hold you back. If religion IS holding you back, then something is wrong somewhere.
A lot of the stupid interpretations say that men should lead and women should just follow and continue washing their vaginas with minyak atar.
I'll ask this question:
Is God a man?
The fact of the matter is, for the past few thousand years or so, the men won the battle for supremacy. In order for us to keep our winnings and our victories, we changed religion so that it should suit us and our needs. Like sex. And beating up women.
Well, our needs have changed, son!
Don't tell me we haven't evolved, primates!
Our problems are now multi-faceted and multi-dimensional. WHy should we solve it for everyone when the woman can do it for us?
2. Society
The current Malaysian society places women as lower than trash.
When trash gets dumped, we send it to a landfill. When a woman gets dumped, we rape them. Well, not really, but sometimes I wished that was true.
When a woman gets beaten up, she sometimes gets something worse than rape. Betrayal. By her fellow monkeys.
Society and our communities have forced women to think of themselves as nothing better than sperm banks. Incubators. Baby factories. Holes for dicks to fuck.
A woman is successful only if she is able to find a mate and after mating with the fucker, bear many children. Even though they won't have enough money and/or brains to raise the brats, they are still considered successful.
Why? Cause when the kids grow up, they will suck the life of the kids by turning them into living, breathing, insurance policies.
Bitch: Oh, it's easy la for me when I'm old. I'll just use my children to give me money cause I spent all of mine to buy a motorcycle for them so they can be Mat Rempits and take aramine 5.
Oooh. Real successful, bitches. Fucking vampires. Stupid.
Conclusion:
I have seen women leaders, and NONE of them impress me. They suck. Why? Because we do not currently have a good batch to choose from. They still have their hang-ups from society, from religion, and from their desire to be SEEN AS successful. Successful as defined by their stupid community. See how stupid community is?
I know that writing this will not change anything. And tomorrow, I still have to haul my sorry ass to my computer and do some work instead of just staying in bed and let a woman rape me. But who gives a shit? I had a few Jaka Denials already.
Dr M gave the cunt-ry balls. And we have so many dicks and assholes already. Now it's time for somebody to give it a vagina.
EDIT: FINAL POINT - and if anything goes wrong, we can always BLAME IT ON THE WOMAN. I WIN!
Intermission
There are too many anal jokes flying around. This whole thing has made Malaysia the butt of jokes around the world.
I am going to have a breather for a while before I continue the shit-stirring.
Meanwhile, three people gave me 9 million bucks. Well, 9 million bucks in virtual credit, that is. I have been playing this game - Cybernations - and it has taken a lot of my supposedly free time.
I was making alliances, talked to people, plotted and schemed and negotiated many, many things. So much so that they have been sending me money. 9 million so far, with another 1.5 million coming soon.
Man, I just wish they were real credits.
I also got attacked. My nation was thrown into anarchy. I bought some fighter planes including the legendary P-51 Mustang, over 1,000 soldiers and 73 tanks. I could have gotten more, but I think it will suffice as a deterrent. For now.
What the game teaches is basically to connect with other people on the net. And find ways to beat the system. My biggest ally right now is a Belgian girl. Together, we will set up a trade juggling scheme which will take the gameworld by storm.
Why aren't you millionaires sending me money? You son of a camel! I DESERVE to be a multi-millionaire, and a multi-millionaire soon.
I mean, you guys make ass-fuckers and bitches rich. Would it ruin some vast eternal plan. IF...I am a WEALTHY MANNNNNNN!!!
I am going to have a breather for a while before I continue the shit-stirring.
Meanwhile, three people gave me 9 million bucks. Well, 9 million bucks in virtual credit, that is. I have been playing this game - Cybernations - and it has taken a lot of my supposedly free time.
I was making alliances, talked to people, plotted and schemed and negotiated many, many things. So much so that they have been sending me money. 9 million so far, with another 1.5 million coming soon.
Man, I just wish they were real credits.
I also got attacked. My nation was thrown into anarchy. I bought some fighter planes including the legendary P-51 Mustang, over 1,000 soldiers and 73 tanks. I could have gotten more, but I think it will suffice as a deterrent. For now.
What the game teaches is basically to connect with other people on the net. And find ways to beat the system. My biggest ally right now is a Belgian girl. Together, we will set up a trade juggling scheme which will take the gameworld by storm.
Why aren't you millionaires sending me money? You son of a camel! I DESERVE to be a multi-millionaire, and a multi-millionaire soon.
I mean, you guys make ass-fuckers and bitches rich. Would it ruin some vast eternal plan. IF...I am a WEALTHY MANNNNNNN!!!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Tales from the Drunk Side: Man of Tomorrow
In my travels, I have seen the future. And what a strange future it is.
Consider these headlines ten years from now:
NEVER AGAIN: SODOMY LEGALISED
THE BACK-HAND! SODOMY IS NOW LEGAL!
SODOMY LEGALISED - PM
YOU CAN NOW HAVE YOUR ASS AND EAT IT TOO
APPLE LAUNCHES iCHASTITY TO COMBAT ASS-RAPE
BLOGGING ASS - DOCTORS DISCOVER NEW SYNDROME, SIMILAR TO TENNIS ELBOW
SONY'S PLAYSTATION 6 COMES WITH FREE CHASTITY BELT. TEST MARKET TO RIVAL iCHASTITY FROM APPLE
BRUBACK MOUNTAIN: ROCKY CAUGHT RED-HANDED
PRICE OF KY JELLY TO BE RAISED TO RM4 PER ML
KY JELLY A CONTROLLED ITEM - CONSUMER AFFAIRS MINISTER
MALAYSIA TO MANUFACTURE OWN 'HALAL' KY JELLY
KJ JELLY HITS MARKET
AL-LIWATI - OPTIMISED FOR SODOMITES
SODOMY LAWS DRAFTED INTO CONSTITUTION
SODOMY LAWS ON THE BACKBURNER - PROTEST FROM LESBIAN GROUPS
UMNO BACKBENCHERS CLUB TO CHANGE NAME TO UMNO SUPPORTERS
Indeed. A strange future. A queer one.
Consider these headlines ten years from now:
NEVER AGAIN: SODOMY LEGALISED
THE BACK-HAND! SODOMY IS NOW LEGAL!
SODOMY LEGALISED - PM
YOU CAN NOW HAVE YOUR ASS AND EAT IT TOO
APPLE LAUNCHES iCHASTITY TO COMBAT ASS-RAPE
BLOGGING ASS - DOCTORS DISCOVER NEW SYNDROME, SIMILAR TO TENNIS ELBOW
SONY'S PLAYSTATION 6 COMES WITH FREE CHASTITY BELT. TEST MARKET TO RIVAL iCHASTITY FROM APPLE
BRUBACK MOUNTAIN: ROCKY CAUGHT RED-HANDED
PRICE OF KY JELLY TO BE RAISED TO RM4 PER ML
KY JELLY A CONTROLLED ITEM - CONSUMER AFFAIRS MINISTER
MALAYSIA TO MANUFACTURE OWN 'HALAL' KY JELLY
KJ JELLY HITS MARKET
AL-LIWATI - OPTIMISED FOR SODOMITES
SODOMY LAWS DRAFTED INTO CONSTITUTION
SODOMY LAWS ON THE BACKBURNER - PROTEST FROM LESBIAN GROUPS
UMNO BACKBENCHERS CLUB TO CHANGE NAME TO UMNO SUPPORTERS
Indeed. A strange future. A queer one.
Tales from the Drunk Side: Statutory Rape
I, The Malay Male, Pimp Masta G, hereby declare that I am susceptible to being reliably informed that I am a good fuck.
1. Upon advice from a friend, I went and looked at myself in the mirror. What I see is a virile, sexy young man with a face carved from marble.
2. Then I turned my attention to the other people around me, in Malaysia, and all I see are flat-chested women with acne who look like men.
3. After being to Bangkok, this is HELL.
4. Anyway, when I was in Bangkok, all the women said I was Narak, which either means I am handsome or I will go to hell. Both statements are true. I was taking a flight back to Malaysia the next day.
...
...
...
25.2 Uhhhh...Uhhhhhh...uhhhhhh. Ahhhhhhhhhh.......
25.3 "You good fuck," she said.
YEAH!
1. Upon advice from a friend, I went and looked at myself in the mirror. What I see is a virile, sexy young man with a face carved from marble.
2. Then I turned my attention to the other people around me, in Malaysia, and all I see are flat-chested women with acne who look like men.
3. After being to Bangkok, this is HELL.
4. Anyway, when I was in Bangkok, all the women said I was Narak, which either means I am handsome or I will go to hell. Both statements are true. I was taking a flight back to Malaysia the next day.
...
...
...
25.2 Uhhhh...Uhhhhhh...uhhhhhh. Ahhhhhhhhhh.......
25.3 "You good fuck," she said.
YEAH!
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