A lot of people assume that I'm generally an undisputed asshole based on the lies that I fabricate on this blog. What they don't know, is that what I write are only lies if it doesn't make your life any better. You think what I say doesn't make sense? Then by all possible means, treat them as lies. If these penned words somehow do seem rational, then treat it as the truth. It's always consoling knowing that people share the same views and principles as you, no? Human nature hard at work here, making us group with people that we can relate to while ousting ones who differ from us. I don't blame you, I do that too. Tribalism is working its magic all around us everyday.
The above may sound a little bit unrelated to the title but please let me rationalize. I've been asked a question and amazingly, I didn't know how to answer. Maybe it's because the answer is not thoroughly defined and that it's just a concept established by different perceptions. I'm quite sure that the answer to the question I'm about to present will vary greatly depending on the point where you are looking at this from. I'm really trying to find who agrees with my views so please help me out?
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Paul lives in America. He's a man's man. If Bruce Lee is still alive today he will be polishing Paul's shoes cause he's even manlier than Bruce without the trademark,"watahhhh~~wochooo~" howls. Paul is not afraid to uphold his views and principles. He isn't very calculated and at times, impulsive. Moreover, he is not threatened by the word Fear and is not afraid to go one on one with Fear in Street Fighter 4. People bully him but he makes sure they walk away with at least an extra hole to defecate from. In other words, he's manly.
Marty lives in an Asian country. He's a man's.... woman. People look down on this poor soul cause he's been subjected to various social norms and thus labelled as a coward. He doesn't stand up for his views if any physical harm is present. Maybe he's just lazy to get into trouble and wasting precious time arguing over feeble matters that rewards him with nothing other than "face". But he is precise, he thinks ahead. He knows what he should do to save his cowardly ass.
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As you can see, Paul and Marty lives on two different part of the planet's big face. Also, their personalities are evidently a far cry from each other's. Today, they're put in this similar stage where the scripts and lines of the antagonists are basically the same.
One fine night, the protagonist had a squabble with 5 guys just outside the bar. These drunkards accused the protagonist of something that he did not do. Things got out of hand cause when you're high on alcohol, men prefer to think (and also walk) sideways. And to make things interesting, the protagonist has his girlfriend by his side when God decided to make a blockbuster movie (not forgetting a blog update) out of his life tonight.
Below is how each man responded to the situation:
Paul unquestionably stood up for himself. You know what's worse about getting into an argument with drunkards? It's not realizing that drunkards usually comprehend "NO" as an invitation to land their fists on the opposing team. Immediately, the 5 men sprung on Paul similar to how a lion invited himself to partake in an sexual intercourse with a lioness. Only that this one involves no genitals, only clenched fists. Paul refused to back down and apologize for what he didn't do, and resumed getting beaten into a pulp. To cut all the action short, he ended up in a hospital suffering injuries. His life is in danger, this guy might actually die. But his girlfriend saw the manliness in him and her love and devotion for him increases. He is forever recognized as the guy who sacrificed for his belief and died a true man.
Marty on the other hand, cowardly apologized and tried to settle the restless drunkards. He reasoned with them briefly but everyone knows you don't reason with 5 gorillas out to make your life a living hell. To make matters worse, he even said, "Sorry for all the troubles I've caused." to these men. He walked away unscathed but his pride was smashed into oblivion. His girlfriend saw him as a coward. He lives on only to see his girlfriend leaving in another man's car. What she didn't see, is that he somehow protected his girlfriend from being potentially harmed by these drunkards. Or is he thinking too much? Thinking too far ahead? Maybe these drunkards didn't even think about hurting the girlfriend.
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Which path will you tread on? Paul's or Marty's? It's true that I'm definitely not sitting on a fence with this one, and I'm veering towards Marty's side. All of you who've seen me in real life before might know that I might even lose in a fight with a cat. Remember, most of the time.. even when you win, you lose too.
Oh, did you realize that I didn't curse at all in this post?!?!??!!
Monday, September 28, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Guy Debates. Obviously Wins
Debates. Not many people realize this, especially kids, but debates are something we adults indulge in just to make ourselves sound smart and matured. People always think they know best, but they forgot that in this blog, I am the fucking reincarnation of Socrates. This is weird but a debate is only called a debate when I win and you lose. I will then consider myself owning if my godlike enormous brain totally shut your fucking mouth up in the process. Extra points for me too if you cry on the floor, weeping like the sad fuck that you are.
Anyway, some smart bitch decided to challenge me for the heavyweight title of boasting, lying and making up baseless facts. Little did she know that she was up against the offspring of The Rock and Stone Cold Steve Austin if they were gay and had the abilities to give birth. It was like Hell In A Cell except that Vince McMahon decided that I'm gonna walk out the winner. Coincidentally, I was in a mood to bitch, and you never anger a person who's high on bitch-pills. She was in for the most electrifying debate in the history of social-status charged entertainment.
Being the usual asshole that I am, I was worshiping money and the endless peace that it brings to this ugly world. She then decided to say the one thing that I hate most and that's:
"Money isn't everything, you can't buy everything with money."
WELL GOD SAVE OUR FUCKING SOULS BUT WHY IS IT THAT EVERYTIME I HEAR THIS, IT'S FROM ANOTHER HUMAN BEING WHO HAS SHITLOADS OF MONEY?
If Paul Gilbert allowed me to, I could've bitchslapped that pussy straight to the moon through my phone. Immediately, I jammed my clenched fist into my head and proceed to flick the "bullshit switch" on. On its way out, my hand also switched on the "pretend" button to increase my guard against the stupidity that is her. Below are five things that she said money can't buy. Following closely are the things I said to prove that the world now has one extra stupid dumbfuck.
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1. Money can't buy happiness.
If I had a pussy everytime I hear this, I could've opened a whorehouse so big that it encompasses West Malaysia (Singapore included). Money CAN buy happiness. Ever heard of retail therapy? I heard it works wonders. Ever heard of pussies? Well aren't you happy now that I'm telling you that you can buy them. I'm stopping here cause there's just no point in giving more examples. Cause I told her that it's ironic that she brought up this point right after she told me she's so happy that she shopped at mid valley and bought shitloads of items just a day before.
2. Money can't buy love.
If you haven't already know, love is sort of like business. Let's say you're one ugly son of a bitch (I know you're not, cause only smart beautiful people reads this blog), you've got no game and nobody's suitable for you. Now, let's compare you with a mamak stall. You only know one dish and that is Maggie Goreng. Obviously, only Maggie Goreng lovers will come to you. But if you've got the money, you can hire a Burger guy to assist you and voila! You've expanded your target market! With money, you can dress yourself up and cater to different tastes, different people. With so many fish in your fucking pond, it's not so hard now to find your loved one now isn't it?
3. Money can't buy health.
This is stupid. I refuse to believe that I stooped this low to argue about this poorly thought out point. What the fuck are vitamins for? What are the clinics for? What are the monthly checkups for? What are health insurances for? Why do they cost money? I thought you said health can't be bought?! Why isn't it accessible to poor kids in Africa and everywhere else? Oh yeah, why does Appeton Weightgain(adult) costs over a hundred? Fuck this shitty point.
4. Money can't buy time.
When you look at this from a certain perspective (the unimaginative one) it sounds kinda realistic. For a second there, I thought I was going to tread down the path straight to loserville. BUT! Did the Americans just say, "Oh I guess we'll have to tolerate monster hentai rape and shit-eating porn from now on :(" when the Japs fucking demolished East Asia? Did Super Mario weep and cried with Luigi when flying turtles are about to stop them from getting laid by that princess? NO! This man will not go down without a fight!
My bullshit machine was overheating I thought I was gonna vomit brain matter and meet Paul Gilbert up in the clouds. There was never really a question though, only an equation:
From point 3,
Money = Health
Health = Longevity
Longevity = Time
Therefore, Money = Time
If you can't buy the past? Why not extend it? Why not buy the future?
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Needless to say, I saved the world once again. With another mouth firmly shut, mother earth was finally able to go on spinning on its orbit without having to worry about the plague that is stupidity. The best of all? The 2 minutes silence between me and her after I let her taste what a Stone Cold stunner is like, in words. Okay I'll be honest today, I was laughing like a brainless maniac inside.
EDIT: I forgot a point, will update as soon as I ask about it. Damn, the worst thing you could do to a person is to ask them to relive that shameful moment that they're trying so hard to forget. Fuck me.
Anyway, some smart bitch decided to challenge me for the heavyweight title of boasting, lying and making up baseless facts. Little did she know that she was up against the offspring of The Rock and Stone Cold Steve Austin if they were gay and had the abilities to give birth. It was like Hell In A Cell except that Vince McMahon decided that I'm gonna walk out the winner. Coincidentally, I was in a mood to bitch, and you never anger a person who's high on bitch-pills. She was in for the most electrifying debate in the history of social-status charged entertainment.
Being the usual asshole that I am, I was worshiping money and the endless peace that it brings to this ugly world. She then decided to say the one thing that I hate most and that's:
"Money isn't everything, you can't buy everything with money."
WELL GOD SAVE OUR FUCKING SOULS BUT WHY IS IT THAT EVERYTIME I HEAR THIS, IT'S FROM ANOTHER HUMAN BEING WHO HAS SHITLOADS OF MONEY?
If Paul Gilbert allowed me to, I could've bitchslapped that pussy straight to the moon through my phone. Immediately, I jammed my clenched fist into my head and proceed to flick the "bullshit switch" on. On its way out, my hand also switched on the "pretend" button to increase my guard against the stupidity that is her. Below are five things that she said money can't buy. Following closely are the things I said to prove that the world now has one extra stupid dumbfuck.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1. Money can't buy happiness.
If I had a pussy everytime I hear this, I could've opened a whorehouse so big that it encompasses West Malaysia (Singapore included). Money CAN buy happiness. Ever heard of retail therapy? I heard it works wonders. Ever heard of pussies? Well aren't you happy now that I'm telling you that you can buy them. I'm stopping here cause there's just no point in giving more examples. Cause I told her that it's ironic that she brought up this point right after she told me she's so happy that she shopped at mid valley and bought shitloads of items just a day before.
2. Money can't buy love.
If you haven't already know, love is sort of like business. Let's say you're one ugly son of a bitch (I know you're not, cause only smart beautiful people reads this blog), you've got no game and nobody's suitable for you. Now, let's compare you with a mamak stall. You only know one dish and that is Maggie Goreng. Obviously, only Maggie Goreng lovers will come to you. But if you've got the money, you can hire a Burger guy to assist you and voila! You've expanded your target market! With money, you can dress yourself up and cater to different tastes, different people. With so many fish in your fucking pond, it's not so hard now to find your loved one now isn't it?
3. Money can't buy health.
This is stupid. I refuse to believe that I stooped this low to argue about this poorly thought out point. What the fuck are vitamins for? What are the clinics for? What are the monthly checkups for? What are health insurances for? Why do they cost money? I thought you said health can't be bought?! Why isn't it accessible to poor kids in Africa and everywhere else? Oh yeah, why does Appeton Weightgain(adult) costs over a hundred? Fuck this shitty point.
4. Money can't buy time.
When you look at this from a certain perspective (the unimaginative one) it sounds kinda realistic. For a second there, I thought I was going to tread down the path straight to loserville. BUT! Did the Americans just say, "Oh I guess we'll have to tolerate monster hentai rape and shit-eating porn from now on :(" when the Japs fucking demolished East Asia? Did Super Mario weep and cried with Luigi when flying turtles are about to stop them from getting laid by that princess? NO! This man will not go down without a fight!
My bullshit machine was overheating I thought I was gonna vomit brain matter and meet Paul Gilbert up in the clouds. There was never really a question though, only an equation:
From point 3,
Money = Health
Health = Longevity
Longevity = Time
Therefore, Money = Time
If you can't buy the past? Why not extend it? Why not buy the future?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Needless to say, I saved the world once again. With another mouth firmly shut, mother earth was finally able to go on spinning on its orbit without having to worry about the plague that is stupidity. The best of all? The 2 minutes silence between me and her after I let her taste what a Stone Cold stunner is like, in words. Okay I'll be honest today, I was laughing like a brainless maniac inside.
EDIT: I forgot a point, will update as soon as I ask about it. Damn, the worst thing you could do to a person is to ask them to relive that shameful moment that they're trying so hard to forget. Fuck me.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Me Wants Be Retard
A lot of movie going fags are going to go all out and make sure I go to hell for this, but I’ve just watched Forrest Gump a couple of weeks ago. Gee, even my not so English educated brother has seen it, maybe I do really deserve to die. Fuck it, nobody’s gonna stop me from writing this anyway.
The movie is really, REALLY touching. I almost had an interesting conversation with my brother that night over a glass of teardrops but being the man that I am, I didn’t cry. Maybe I have a soft spot for mentally retarded people. Then again, I’ll just resort to the option that I am indeed a sensitive and loving man. For those of you who (except me) doesn’t know what the movie is about, this flick is on how by just being honest and following your heart, everything good will comes to you and you’ll live a fairly interesting life with free pussy (albeit only one) thrown at you.
Obviously, what Forrest went through is very fucking impossible. Now kids, don’t let this movie be your excuse for being stupid and retarded. Everybody knows nobody gets THAT far in life for just being ignorant not to mention, retarded. Let’s get real, people. Yes, it gives you hope for being stupid but I strongly insist that these kind of stuff only happen to you when there’s a crew filming you and your boring lives.
Like every other TV series that has major twists in their stories (I’m looking at you, 24, Lost and Prison Break), this one has that twist that just makes you wanna scream, “OOMPH!”
Ironically, I wish I’m retarded at times. I’m serious, instead of finding the cure for AIDS why don’t doctors make pills that make you stupid and retarded for only a certain period of time. Oh wait, they did it already. I forgot the miracle and hard work of men called ecstasy pills and Johnny Walkers.
I guess that’s why people drink their sorrows away. Your mind needs to be blank once in awhile at the expense of getting ridiculed at when you make love with the pavement and your puke by the street. Believe me, I’ve seen many strong and eager men fell in the battle against the evil that is liquor. Strangely, they’re always accompanied by statements like,
“HAHAHA let’s take a picture with him while he’s drunk, while flashing the peace sign.”
“I’m glad I have a Facebook account. Thank you, God.”
I want to be retarded like Forrest Gump, living life without any care. My brain screams for me to let him have a well deserved rest. My eyes refuse to let me see things as they are. My tongue wants to reject the pain and insecurity that is the future. My sense of touch wants to snub the boredom in everything I do. The liar in me wants to stop lying without guilt. You took everything I have, but why not my brain?
Anybody wants to drink? Only if you treat, though.
The movie is really, REALLY touching. I almost had an interesting conversation with my brother that night over a glass of teardrops but being the man that I am, I didn’t cry. Maybe I have a soft spot for mentally retarded people. Then again, I’ll just resort to the option that I am indeed a sensitive and loving man. For those of you who (except me) doesn’t know what the movie is about, this flick is on how by just being honest and following your heart, everything good will comes to you and you’ll live a fairly interesting life with free pussy (albeit only one) thrown at you.
Obviously, what Forrest went through is very fucking impossible. Now kids, don’t let this movie be your excuse for being stupid and retarded. Everybody knows nobody gets THAT far in life for just being ignorant not to mention, retarded. Let’s get real, people. Yes, it gives you hope for being stupid but I strongly insist that these kind of stuff only happen to you when there’s a crew filming you and your boring lives.
Like every other TV series that has major twists in their stories (I’m looking at you, 24, Lost and Prison Break), this one has that twist that just makes you wanna scream, “OOMPH!”
Ironically, I wish I’m retarded at times. I’m serious, instead of finding the cure for AIDS why don’t doctors make pills that make you stupid and retarded for only a certain period of time. Oh wait, they did it already. I forgot the miracle and hard work of men called ecstasy pills and Johnny Walkers.
I guess that’s why people drink their sorrows away. Your mind needs to be blank once in awhile at the expense of getting ridiculed at when you make love with the pavement and your puke by the street. Believe me, I’ve seen many strong and eager men fell in the battle against the evil that is liquor. Strangely, they’re always accompanied by statements like,
“HAHAHA let’s take a picture with him while he’s drunk, while flashing the peace sign.”
“I’m glad I have a Facebook account. Thank you, God.”
I want to be retarded like Forrest Gump, living life without any care. My brain screams for me to let him have a well deserved rest. My eyes refuse to let me see things as they are. My tongue wants to reject the pain and insecurity that is the future. My sense of touch wants to snub the boredom in everything I do. The liar in me wants to stop lying without guilt. You took everything I have, but why not my brain?
Anybody wants to drink? Only if you treat, though.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
God Decides to Punish Your Favourite Writer
After 22 years of frequent masturbation compiled together with weaving intelligent lies, my sins have finally caught up to me. As I sit here writing this, I'm comtemplating calling my dad now as he sleeps to apologize about all those nights I said, "No la I sleep at 1-2am everyday one. Very healthy."
Now God comes comes barging in telling me that he CAN and WILL fuck me up cause I've been sleeping at 5-6am for the past 4 months. Paul Gilbert, please save me from this obscenity that is:
Now God comes comes barging in telling me that he CAN and WILL fuck me up cause I've been sleeping at 5-6am for the past 4 months. Paul Gilbert, please save me from this obscenity that is:
Friday, September 11, 2009
Talking to Girls
If you know me as well as how you know your favorite Korean idols more than your mom, you will notice that I am fucking terrible with words. To put it in layman’s term, otherwise known as “very fucking simple”, I’m bad at conversations. To serve as a reference, my definition of conversations only consists of 4 words: You talk, I listen. But to redeem my genetic shortcomings, I’d like to say that I’m a little better at talking to males. Now, I understand that there’s an underlying tone that I might actually be gay but let me assure you I’m as straight as any straight male porn stars.
If you have a brain the size of an average human, you would’ve noticed that this is about why I just can’t strike a decent conversation with a female.
First off, I’m not a featherweight champion when it comes to talking. Sorry, but I don’t consider “big mouth” as one of my personal features. I don’t feel the need to tell them what the fuck I’m doing these days or which set of boobs is the biggest out of the bunch sitting across us. I’m just socially handicapped, perhaps. You see, when I talk to guys you can spew enough bullshit to fertilize the whole Sarawakian jungle. Topics can range from masturbation to debauchery and so on. But then when I’m talking to girls, I’m limited to just these:
1. How was your day?
2. What’re you gonna do?
3. I wonder what makes you so special? (also known as “Do you squirt?”)
Obviously there’s more to that but I’m just giving you examples. But that’s not the point. The fucking point is I can’t talk freely and I’ll to lie to myself into believing that I’m actually a polite fool who actually aren’t interested in knowing the size of your bra. Honestly, if you’re a human with testosterones pumping into your body at short intervals, you’ll be wanting to talk about games, sex and not forgetting how Stone Cold used to be so fucking badass. That’s all I wanna talk about.
Girl thinks shopping is fun. I think Paul Gilbert is God. Girls think their recent visit to the manicure shop was worth it. I think Paul Gilbert is secretly getting it on with Leah Dizon. But then again, it’s alright if you’re the one who’s talking about this. But don’t expect me to chip in and tell you how I tried this shirt on that day and felt like the most handsome man in this part of the world.
Face-to-face conversations are the best cause I’ll can superbly feign interest and act like I actually cared if you think dogs are cute. MSN conversations are better, because there’s this little “X” button on the top right corner of your chat window and the “FUCK TMNET I DISCONNECTED LAST NIGHT” argument. Other than that, there’s always the “Eh my mom called me. She wants to talk.” excuse which can buy you time to surf for some porn. And what’s better is that it’s the same with phone calls.
You might think that I’m doing pretty good for my standards but let me tell you this. It all falls apart when the girl is the quiet type. DAMN! I thought after living for 22 years in the 21st century it is an unspoken fact that girls are the loudest mammals to ever walk on the face of earth? These girls expect you to talk about things that they can actually relate to and if Einstein was smarter, he would’ve come up with this hypothesis:
Girls’ interest does not equal to Guys’ interest. Therefore, girls have to talk more.
I’m an asshole for ending this here. I have no idea on how to continue. To shortly put this, my opinions are already justified.
If you have a brain the size of an average human, you would’ve noticed that this is about why I just can’t strike a decent conversation with a female.
First off, I’m not a featherweight champion when it comes to talking. Sorry, but I don’t consider “big mouth” as one of my personal features. I don’t feel the need to tell them what the fuck I’m doing these days or which set of boobs is the biggest out of the bunch sitting across us. I’m just socially handicapped, perhaps. You see, when I talk to guys you can spew enough bullshit to fertilize the whole Sarawakian jungle. Topics can range from masturbation to debauchery and so on. But then when I’m talking to girls, I’m limited to just these:
1. How was your day?
2. What’re you gonna do?
3. I wonder what makes you so special? (also known as “Do you squirt?”)
Obviously there’s more to that but I’m just giving you examples. But that’s not the point. The fucking point is I can’t talk freely and I’ll to lie to myself into believing that I’m actually a polite fool who actually aren’t interested in knowing the size of your bra. Honestly, if you’re a human with testosterones pumping into your body at short intervals, you’ll be wanting to talk about games, sex and not forgetting how Stone Cold used to be so fucking badass. That’s all I wanna talk about.
Girl thinks shopping is fun. I think Paul Gilbert is God. Girls think their recent visit to the manicure shop was worth it. I think Paul Gilbert is secretly getting it on with Leah Dizon. But then again, it’s alright if you’re the one who’s talking about this. But don’t expect me to chip in and tell you how I tried this shirt on that day and felt like the most handsome man in this part of the world.
Face-to-face conversations are the best cause I’ll can superbly feign interest and act like I actually cared if you think dogs are cute. MSN conversations are better, because there’s this little “X” button on the top right corner of your chat window and the “FUCK TMNET I DISCONNECTED LAST NIGHT” argument. Other than that, there’s always the “Eh my mom called me. She wants to talk.” excuse which can buy you time to surf for some porn. And what’s better is that it’s the same with phone calls.
You might think that I’m doing pretty good for my standards but let me tell you this. It all falls apart when the girl is the quiet type. DAMN! I thought after living for 22 years in the 21st century it is an unspoken fact that girls are the loudest mammals to ever walk on the face of earth? These girls expect you to talk about things that they can actually relate to and if Einstein was smarter, he would’ve come up with this hypothesis:
Girls’ interest does not equal to Guys’ interest. Therefore, girls have to talk more.
I’m an asshole for ending this here. I have no idea on how to continue. To shortly put this, my opinions are already justified.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Semester Break... My Balls
After the recent emotional outburst, a certain part of me have told me to calm the fuck down. Regardless of what insight you guys shared in my last post, I’d like to say thanks for even reading the shit that I spew every other week. It really means a lot. But if you’re gonna ask me to treat you something to eat, consider yourself blacklisted in my list of friends.
It occurs to me (once again) that I haven’t been blogging about other “worldly” matters regularly. But fuck it lah you guys would understand, right? It’s not like a the world revolves around my hatred for the world and whatnot. So I’m gonna talk about myself again today.
If you’ve paid more attention than a common monkey you would’ve noticed that I’ve said in my last post that this is one of the most boring holiday I’ve ever had. This is what my timetable looks like:
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12-7pm:
I wake up and have lunch. My laptop would start screaming at me begging me to open it and go online, and I always comply. If nobody calls me out, then I’ll stay online dicking around the internet until….
7pm-5am:
Mom calls me down for dinner. If I’m feeling like a dickhead I wouldn’t eat until 8 or 9. My phone usually don’t ring so I’ll go back online, wait for the missus if I’m feeling bored. If not I’d sometimes forget the missus' existence. For some reason I’ll only bath when she comes online. Yeah I’m that fucking weird. After the missus goes to sleep I’ll stay online, maybe watch PPS with my brother if there’s anything interesting. Then I sleep.
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Don’t ask me what the hell do I do on the internet. Sometimes I don’t even fucking know. Maybe that’s why they call it surfing. But in their case, those surfers are prone to getting shitfucked by sharks or jellyfishes. Me? Unfortunate encounters with gay porn, I assume. I swore off gutterpost a fucking long time ago and I’ve revisited the site again after a certain Samuel Law fucking became a fan of gutterpost in facebook. As any testosterone-filled human being would do, yours truly clicked on the link and began browsing again. Seems like they uploaded new sex tapes again!!! Paul, thank you for answering my prayers!!
Sprinkled with a little bit of limteh sessions that juggles between my friends and my brother, that’s all I’ve done for the past month. Can’t wait to get out of this fucking hellhole. My fellow West Malaysian friends, the King is coming back to KL baby! Until college really starts, I think I’ll have around two weeks to play around. Oh wait, play around means that I do basically the same shit that I do back here in Sarawak, just that things are more livelier. Maybe it’s the people. And the constant road rage that entertains me.
Damn, all these look very jumbled up. For those of you who didn’t understand what the hell was that all about. It’s how a not-so-normal college kid lives his life for 20+ days during his not-so-needed holiday break.
It occurs to me (once again) that I haven’t been blogging about other “worldly” matters regularly. But fuck it lah you guys would understand, right? It’s not like a the world revolves around my hatred for the world and whatnot. So I’m gonna talk about myself again today.
If you’ve paid more attention than a common monkey you would’ve noticed that I’ve said in my last post that this is one of the most boring holiday I’ve ever had. This is what my timetable looks like:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
12-7pm:
I wake up and have lunch. My laptop would start screaming at me begging me to open it and go online, and I always comply. If nobody calls me out, then I’ll stay online dicking around the internet until….
7pm-5am:
Mom calls me down for dinner. If I’m feeling like a dickhead I wouldn’t eat until 8 or 9. My phone usually don’t ring so I’ll go back online, wait for the missus if I’m feeling bored. If not I’d sometimes forget the missus' existence. For some reason I’ll only bath when she comes online. Yeah I’m that fucking weird. After the missus goes to sleep I’ll stay online, maybe watch PPS with my brother if there’s anything interesting. Then I sleep.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Don’t ask me what the hell do I do on the internet. Sometimes I don’t even fucking know. Maybe that’s why they call it surfing. But in their case, those surfers are prone to getting shitfucked by sharks or jellyfishes. Me? Unfortunate encounters with gay porn, I assume. I swore off gutterpost a fucking long time ago and I’ve revisited the site again after a certain Samuel Law fucking became a fan of gutterpost in facebook. As any testosterone-filled human being would do, yours truly clicked on the link and began browsing again. Seems like they uploaded new sex tapes again!!! Paul, thank you for answering my prayers!!
Sprinkled with a little bit of limteh sessions that juggles between my friends and my brother, that’s all I’ve done for the past month. Can’t wait to get out of this fucking hellhole. My fellow West Malaysian friends, the King is coming back to KL baby! Until college really starts, I think I’ll have around two weeks to play around. Oh wait, play around means that I do basically the same shit that I do back here in Sarawak, just that things are more livelier. Maybe it’s the people. And the constant road rage that entertains me.
Damn, all these look very jumbled up. For those of you who didn’t understand what the hell was that all about. It’s how a not-so-normal college kid lives his life for 20+ days during his not-so-needed holiday break.
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