Category: What da f***!!

Cars.

You see them all the time.

You see young punks driving Mercedes, BMWs and so on, and they look all too young to own such a vehicle.

Most drive daddy’s car to impress girls; and the girls will drive mummy’s car for a girls-night-out.

I was labeled as a anak Tan Sri Third Class by this girl who wanted to date me, because I took her on a date going on BMWs (Bas Mini Wilayah) and eat seafood at Benteng. I just cannot see myself driving my father’s Mercedes too woo girls. It is akin to screwing a girl using a dildo because my dick is not up to it.

Then you get politicians, the malay ones especially, who would drive a Mercedes, as a show of status, so much so that someone asked me to buy one. I pointed to my Proton Saga and said, “It has 5 wheels too, and it’s fully paid for.” I can say the same thing about my Naza Ria now. I don’t owe any bank for it, and I certainly do not have any headaches thinking where to scrounge for money to pay the monthly installments. So I also said to them, Mercedes have been used as taxis in Malaysia, and elsewhere. If I wanted a posh car, I’d get me a BMW 735i, something you don’t see with a charge meter inside anywhere else.

That was until I went to Geneva…

At least I have never seen a Naza Ria as a taxi.

Someone who lives not too far away from my house (same section in USJ) is now a candidate for Jelutong in Penang. Jeff’s blog has always been an interesting read; something that reflects the thinking of a somewhat apolitical man-on-the-street.

Now that he is running for a political party, I cannot expect that same feeling when I read his blog again.

He’s just joined in the ranks of the poly tics – the many blood-sucking parasites: be they from the BN or those who oppose them.

How many times have you driven on the Federal Highway, and then find yourself having to avoid a motorcycle?

How many times have you seen motorcycles on the Federal Highway?

Often?

If so, did you not realise that motorcycles are not supposed to be on the Federal Highway lanes as there are motorcycle lanes made available for them? For whatever reason that they may give, what f***ing business do they have riding on the car lanes on the Federal Highway?

It becomes worse during the weekend nights when one group would race on the Federal Highway. They never have their lights on, and they zigzag in between cars as if the car drivers would just adhere to the lawlessness they bring about. It would be nice to see these bastards crash onto the highway at those breakneck speed and actually break their neck that has been supporting their brainless head. Then again, it would be cool to see pink and grey matter spattered all on the asphalt with the top half of the head inside that stupid helmet (if any) and the bottom half begins just below where the nose used to be.

They are lucky they are not doing this some 20 years ago. Nowadays, I would just say things like “Babi punya pelumba haram!” (Bastard illegal racers…literally: Illegal racing pigs)

If only I can perform magic and actually transform them into the exact thing I cursed. Then maybe they would look like this:

Yes, this is another toilet issue.

Bakawali has just posted one on toilet – the issue of whether to have the toilet seat up or down. I’m not going to argue whether to have the seat up or down, or whether men can actually shoot straight into a toilet bowl or not. I just cannot be bothered. I just want to share a few toilet moments with you.

When I was a student in England, my coursemates and I would purposely enter the female restroom and would pee on the toilet seat and whatever extra pee that we had would be directed onto the floor area surrounding the toilet bowl – although that is not half as fun as peeing into the sink in that restroom and leave it unwashed. And in would walk one of the girls, and in this instance I remember it was Julia Platt who gasped with shock seeing me in the ladies, and I would offer the usual, “Oh, sh*t, sorry!” I wonder if that particular incident led to Julia’s persistence in getting a ride from me downtown during lunch in exchange for a blowjob. Hmm!

Anyway, one of my best buddies (and partner-in-crime) has been promoted to the rank of Inspector. Inspector Jonathan “Jon” Goosey (he was from Winslow, Bucks) is now in-charge of Neighbourhood Policing in North Slough. Congratulations, Inspector Jon Goosey.

Imagine the time wasted while you sit on the throne. The above is a new idea on what you can actually do while dumping your crap. But I cannot imagine having to walk from the throne if you want to get the ball back, and you’re having diarrhoea at that time.

I would either have a magazine or a novel with me. If I cannot get those, then I would read the fine label prints of a shampoo bottle or the toothpaste tube. However, thanks to the advent of wireless technology, I am writing this from my bedroom toilet. Imagine the number of fine ideas you get while you dump the crap out of you – marvellous.

My favourite read in the toilet would consist of anything on theology, any underwater activity, military or politics; there was once when I would frequent to the toilet after forcing myself to eat spicy food just so I could finish this non-fiction novel on the involvement of the United States Coast Guard in World War Two. There were times when I would finish one whole chapter only to find my butt feeling very dry and flaky. Of course squeezing your butt-cheek or clenching the muscles of your sphincter would help remove the flakes and make washing of the bum much easier.

Nothing beats a clean toilet bowl. My favourites would include less-visited R&R or lay-bys along the North-South highway. I would however avoid the ones at the Tapah R&R because the toilets there are worse than popular prostitutes who hardly have the time to dry their pubic region because of high demand. But you cannot win them all: dumping crap is an activity that cannot be stopped by anyone, even if the King himself has summoned you. If you have to go, you have to go. Recently I was at this famous shopping mall in the Klang valley and after a bout of spicy indian food, found myself running to the gents. This was the emergency type where a simple fart in the pants would be extremely disastrous. Unfortunately, all but one toilet bowl was free, and it had to be the one with a broken seat and rim. Let me tell you, I managed to dump my crap and how I did it deserves me a phD.

So, what is your favourite activity while sitting on YOUR throne?

Wo bu xiang jiu zhe yang yi zhi zou

Zhe zhong jie guo wo bu yao

…bu hao xiao

…bu hao xiao