Loop Holed

It's a bad thing being pessimistic all the time. I'm finding it real hard and almost impossible to deal with. I keep thinking that if I were to be anything other than pessimistic, then I'm being delusional. I have optimism guilt. I have no idea how I became like that.

Unfortunately, I also don't know how to get rid of that guilty feeling. It's stupid and exasperating and I know for a fact that it will make itself obvious in whatever I do or say, thus creating the "self-fulfilling prophecy" effect.

I'm stuck in a loop of perpetual victimhood, dooming myself to failure in whatever risky thing that I do. Of course, repeated failures will obviously result in my self-esteem taking a dive down south again, thus making me more pessimistic. See the fucking loop?

How the hell does one get out of this shit?

A Shirt And Khmer Spirit

My kanid, Kelvin went to Siem Riep, took pictures of a lot of temples and all he got me is this stupid t-shirt. And a bottle of the local moonshine. The shirt is all good but the moonshine came as a surprise. He was nice enough to bring a small bottle of the poison for me to sample considering the fact that on his stop over in Malaya, the liquid was almost mercilessly wasted in the hands of very inconsiderate kanids. Blood was almost shed in his effort to save what little was left.

I don't remember what they call it now but I was taken aback by the sheer power it packed. It tasted very similar to our langkau but it leaves an after taste at the back of the tongue. It doesn't smell that strong and was a little cloudy. I tried to wash the taste down with a few rounds of Tiger but that didn't work. After four shooters or at least that's how much I think I had, the effect began to kick in. And with the combination of good spirit and real music like Battery, Holy Diver and Master of Puppets playing in the background, the moment was perfected. I really don't know if the effect was accentuated by the number of Tiger I had or...I don't know. But my head was buzzing. Buzzing fiercely, I tell you.

I woke up the next morning with a horrible back and muscle pain something common to what my doctor would like me to know as alcohol poisoning and all that jive. But that's what he likes to say to scare me.

I think I like our langkau better.

Happy New Year 2007

Here's wishing y'all Chinese buddies, brathas, sistas and fuck mates, Happy and Prosperous Chinese New Year. May this year brings forth with it better luck if you have been luckless last year, better fucks if last years ones were...well, fucked.

Cheers!!!

A Stairway, Shag and A School

When I first saw the stairways it reminded me of the song. In fact, when one actually reaches the top and walk into Semuti its almost surreal. Its like being in a fairytale. I remember my first time visiting and I was immediately reminded of my own village up on the mountains. I was there again last weekend taking advantage of the hot lazy Sunday afternoon. And also, I had earlier promised to drive a friend there. I even solemnly declared that I would endeavour to climb the stairs despite my weak lungs and spend a bit of time at the family house. I didn't.

I was stopped by these five very nice village gentlemen who were sitting outside this house at the foot of the stairs. The host happens to be my friends uncle and after being formally introduced to the village elders, I was cordially invited to join. I politely declined their offer but when I saw what was prepared on the table I began to salivate like there was a Japanese porn star spreading her legs thereat. After much coaxing, I obliged. I must remember to be more sensitive than not to decline offers from village elders. Especially if its for a round of Langkau and fermented wild boar meat. And so what was supposed to be a short stay continued on for three hours or so.

I had several rolls of 'Tembakau Shag'. Very popular with the folks living close to our neighbour's border. I remember as a very young person back at my own village smoking a lot of this. Hence, the weak lungs, I think. Don't even bother to try because it tastes and smells like shit. Sometimes.

It was perhaps by divine intervention that the host ran out of Langkau because if the drinking went on, I would have been too inebriated to make that two hours drive back home. We finished two bottles of the poison and I was definitely there but not there enough. So I excused myself and insisted that my friend take me to the village stream where I dipped myself in super cool mountain water. It was refreshing and sobriety slowly kicked in.

So later, we walked the 30 minutes hike to the village school to send some items to my friends siblings who were boarders there. On our way, we met the village hunter carrying on his back and in his rattan basket what was a fresh kill. Yup, a small size wild boar but small enough to feed the family good meat for the next week or so. Along the way, fog and clouds slowly began to envelope the surrounding hills and villages around. It was just beautiful.

These are some of the school kids. Most are from neighbouring villages. The ones here had just finished their dinner and was monkeying around like any 7 or 8 year old should. The bastard in the white cap...is just a stupid drunk from the city.

It is a requirement at this village school that each student washes his or her own plate. I just wonder, if you actually do wash your plate after dinner if you're having dinner in the comfort of your home that is. I know some bastards and bitches don't because they just don't know how. But these kids does it with such enthusiast and fervent which I found to be a bit comical until I chanced upon what was at the front of the line.

These kids are so serious about cleanliness that they've got two other kids sitting at the end of the line for the sole purpose of checking each plates to make sure that they were squeaky clean. I mean really, really squeaky clean. The few who had to be sent back to the pipes didn't look too happy.

I left late in the evening a little sober this time, and was once again reminded that even in my busy schedule and fucked up dog eat dog world there is still hope for bastards like me. That I don't have to travel so far to experience beauty and simplicity in life. And in these excursions, I have learned one thing and that is it costs less then 50 fucking bucks to have a good time and some good high...for the soul.

Buffalo Shit Day

We all know this day is a time-slot specially dedicated in Western civilization to a certain ritual expressions of spontaneous sentimentality and all that shit. This may sound like a burdensome oxymoron translated into real-life terms, but I can assure you it is much, much more than that. It is, in fact, a day when the male of our species is expected to be pussy whipped unto the female by means of certain ritual sacrifices upon the altar of Mammon in the name of Eros, or Cupid, or whatever the fuck you want to call it.

This special day is known as ..... (I can't even bring myself to spell it here), in honor of no less than three Christian saints by the name of Valentinius, a very gay name even at the time and still is today and who reputedly suffered martyrdom in the days of the late Roman Empire. One of these man, it seems, got his head chopped off by order of the Emperor Claudius II Gothicus in 280 A.D., reportedly because he would not renounce the name of Christ. Of the other two stupid men, little is known other than they died very gruesome death. Good riddance, I must say. If it weren't for these bastards I won't be wasting my time writing this one.

You know this day is approaching when you notice the spike in retail merchandising campaigns built around the theme of "buy things for HER."And why, you ask? Because it seems, you can't wait to see the sparkle of joy in her eyes!!! Because it is expected of you to make such observances. Because you might not be getting some if you fail. Or worse, she'll probably start comparing your limp dick with her ex-ses.

Go to any jewelry stores and they try to buffalo you into buying expensive rocks, playing upon your misgivings that if you fail to buy such rocks, you'll no longer be permitted to get your rocks off. Yeah, that's right. They all transmit these subliminal messages. What about those package dinner at all these posh restaurants? Yep, they call them package dinner now. Bullshit!!! And have you notice how they fucking rip you off on those stupid roses???!!! One fine young thing approached me last night at the bar and shoved a whole bouquet of roses at my face. I asked how much and she said 'RM450.00. Only'. I could almost feel my knees weakening and the remnants of what was lunch shoving itself upwards to my mouth. I told her to get a nice fuck. In a nice way.

Now they even call it V-Day. The 'V' in V-Day is said to stand for "violence", as in male violence. Or in plain English, V-Day was instituted as part of the woman kind ongoing campaign to destroy normal sexual relations by sowing the seeds of suspicion and hostility between men and women and to dramatically raise retail prices. This day is a female supremacist institution through and through. Its innocence is long dead and it died with the passing of the middle ages and Woodstock.

And to conclude, given that this V-Day or the traditional day in itself harbor anything of value to any self-respecting male citizen, why don't we just pitch the whole mess in the river with no regrets? I propose that we hereinafter refer to this day as V.D. I think it is certainly "venereal" in the broad sense of the term. Furthermore, much about it may be fittingly characterized as "diseased". Therefore, it is a venereal disease!!! Sounds about right to me.

So my fellow men and brathas of all persuasions, let us take example from the Emperor Claudius II Gothicus, and sign the order for the axe to swing.

In the meantime, I will be home tonight watching some Japanese porn and beating my dick till its blue.

Happy Birthday, Bratha

My bratha Jas, turns 16 today and I feel extremely bad for not being there to watch him make a fool of himself tonight. May I suggest that you take it easy on the women and booze later. But really bratha, you are now a year older and lets see some wise moves from now on. If all else fails, try watching Master Yoda's skills on the lightsabre. Concentrating really hard on the Master's skills have changed peoples lives and inspired yet some, to be better.

But here's a poem to make you feel all gay and shit. I shall call this one, 'Screw You'.

A brand new miserable day is dawning

And as it gets its start,

I want you to know that it ain't gonna mean nothing

and that thought warmeth my heart.

I hope your birthday will not be special,

Someone else deserves it more than fucking you!!!

You were such a freak when you had a turban,

It still shows in everything that you do.

So, have a fucked up morning

And an even a fucked up day...

May gloominess surrounds you always

....and not just for today.

Have a fucked up birthday, you fucked up son of a fucking bitch. And may the fleas of a fucking thousand gorillas infest your fucking armpits!!!

Fuck the 'take it easy on the women and booze' jive, bro. You know I don't speak that language. Have one or two or 26 on me and puke blood when you're done!!! And ravish them ladies like you were a serial rapist or something. Hoooooorrrraaaahhhh!!!

Thank You.

A Tiger And A Monkey

How can you hurt and long for someone's touch
when you've never felt it?
I do this for yours, though,
and the craving grows more each day...

You cause me to soften into a puddle
of complete weakness...
You have evolved into my every waking thought
and my every dream at night...

I breathe in so hard
trying to catch my breath when we can't talk...
I close my eyes so tight
hoping when I open them you will be there...

But I know I have to linger
until the time is right...
It seems so far away
that I think I am losing my mind...

I want to breathe in your smell
and keep it with me all day long...
I want to taste your love for me
by savouring your sweetness...

I want to feel you next to me
so when you leave for awhile I can hold on...
I just want you to know
that I really want you...

When the time comes and we are together
you will always know and feel this...
I will always touch, hold and love you
every moment of the day and night...

...My pussy cat, you'll not have another touch unfelt

Mallet And Hammer

Honestly, I'm beginning to have recurring fantasies of wielding a large mallet and applying gross force of said mallet on the telephone. And every time I fantasize about that, the mallet gets larger and transforms into something made out of harder/heavier material other than wood...or maybe even a hammer.

Today has got to be one of those days when I hate the telephone like I hate having diarrhea after a good night out of very heavy drinking. Or like ejaculating prematurely when masturbating. And then there's these few letters from my clients on my table demanding a reply to this and that but really, I'm soooooo not into this right now.

A little nuts and a bit frazzled today but still intact. Just about the only thing that keeps me going are these thoughts :-

1. I need to save leave for this proposed trip to Medan in April. If that happens at all.
2. Medan or Laos or Kho Samui
3. Beer
4. Teluk Limau
5. Beer
6. Rainforest Music Festival in July because the brathas and sistas are coming
6. Tiger beer
7. Tiger beer
8. Tiger beer
9. Red Horse beer (This one comes as a surprise as I found it to be kind on the palate)
10. More beer

Awww, shit!!! Looks like I'm going to have to hit the pub again later.

Very Nice

Haaaa...ha...ha...ha...ha...ha...ha!!!

If you haven't watched 'Borat' yet, you must. And very quickly now, get in touch with your local DVD vendor and grab a copy. I got a clear one for just MYR7.00 and I watched it with the same fastidious fashion that an art historian brought to the study of a Titian. Must have put it on for at least 5 times over the week end. Very nice and I am excite.

That's him with two 'working' ladies sometime last year in Amsterdam. Notice how fascinated they are with his huge equipment. Very nice.

I didn't do much over the weekend because it was raining and my mood has been very much influenced by the same. Its just gloomy in here but I like it like that sometimes. There was this invitation to visit Kampung Danu on Sunday afternoon with Kelvin, a kanid and an American friend but I had to give that one a miss due to some family obligations. So much for banishing my demons, bratha. But lets do that some other weekend. I so very much wanted to go. But the parents had to fly in on Sunday morning for their annual regimental family inspection and shit so now I'm left to do the good son show for a few days. Good thing they're flying out on Friday.

Kelvin told me I didn't miss much on the trip as there was a funeral in the village. It seems one of the village family's patriarch finally took the journey to the happy hunting ground. One would expect a sombre mood in the air but like all native funerals or at least the ones I attended, the atmosphere can be quite jovial. And at some, extremely jovial. I found out Kelvin and the gang came back quite satisfied despite the fact. I've been to a few and there was never a time when I got back home sober. I met our American friend last night and he was pretty much intrigued by how some tribes and communities handle situations such as death.

Ok. Enough of this and back to 'Borat'.

Maaaaaannnnn...the movie is hilarious!!! Very nice.

Bang Nupi Kuh

Bang nupi kuh,

Uih nepapu nemuh,

Lun pegkung Buduk Balud,

Luk medita tu,

Rasat acho,

Pegkung beken melagan,

Uih nenier acheh bawang,

Ieh ineh Ba' Kelalan...