Saturday, December 22, 2012

Because Why the Fuck Not.



Signs that I'm getting old: Everything revolves around motherfucking post-rock.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Love Exposure.



I... Don't actually know what the fuck is going on in this video but it's the only one there is...


Sunday, November 4, 2012

The Return of the Dreams.

If here, I was in a state of mild panic due to the lost ability to dream, these past few days have been bloody triumphant. The amount of dreams multiplied by a fuckfold and the intensity of them... Jesus fuck, I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.

Eargasm of the day: Listening to this and going on a killing spree in Sleeping Dogs is one of the finer things in life.




Monday, October 29, 2012

Holidays.


Work done: Zero. Perhaps going into the negatives; if it is not in that zone already.


Monday, October 22, 2012

Sleepless Nights 73 - Patience.

Trials and tribulations? Don't fucking kid me, son, there are things far more insane that'd fuck up your life. Compared to these things, exams are child's play. Diseases are a walk in the fucking park. Deaths are just another occurrence that could be brushed away by having a good night's sleep.


Sunday, October 14, 2012

Sleepless Nights 72 - Perihal Pramugari-Pramugari.

Yes, post kali ni dalam Bahasa Melayu. Mengapa? Serious la bro, kalau kau nak aku jawab dengan tulus hati, aku jawab kau ni manusia yang retard lagi cacat. Suka aku la nak tulis macam mana pun, perlukah aku ada sebab? That one's for you, you damn shallow cunt.

Apa-apa pun, aku dengan terus terang cakap yang aku ni bukan jenis yang kaki naik flight. Kalau dari Melaka ke KL pun nak naik flight tu agak drastic dan gila fucker aku ibaratkan. Tapi aku rasa aku dah cukup pengalaman bila nak bincang bab-bab tidur kat altitude 32,000 dan secara tidak langsung aku pun dah khatam bab-bab pramugari ni.

Dalam filem Chungking Express karya director China Wong Kar Wai yang aku rasa cukup awesome dan epic, salah satu karakter dia berkata "On every flight, there's always a stewardess that you'd want to seduce". Okay. Yes, mamat ni memang power direct tapi aku kena amek chance dan kata itu semua bullshit semata-mata. Or flight yang aku naik semua selama ni flight jenis kanineh.

Yes, muka semua manis belaka. Berlesung pipit, mata bujur dan cerah. Yes, semuanya ada, bak kata orang yang arif dalam terminologi porno "Bubble Butt" yang memang buat aku pandang dan terliur macam binatang buas. Yes, buah dada setiap satu buat aku ingin tuang kuah rojak satu botol, tabur kacang yang diblend dan tala seperti aku tala rojak buah Ah Chye kat Gurney Drive. Tapi kalau nak seduce atau tackle... Aku tak pasti. Idaman aku berhenti di takat buat cuci mata sahaja. Kenapa? Pasal ura-ura jalanan yang mengatakan diorang ni kaki romen dengan apa-apa yang berbatang dan berduit? Fuck no man, I don't give a fuck about that. Aku rasa manusia yang daif dan berperangai 'holier than thou' je boleh cakap macam tu. Yang sebenarnya, aku frust dan stress bila bercakap dengan diorang. Macam robot. Mechanical. Macam berborak dengan kereta BMW Z3. Memang cantik, anggun dan sebagainya tapi untuk dibuat bicara, hampeh. Mungkin kau anggap aku ni biol lagi badigol kerana diorang tu tengah buat kerja dan kerja diorang bukan macam GRO kat kelab malam yang memang lancar dan manis mulut tapi last-last wallet kau kosong. Maybe you're right. Maybe aku ni jenis yang psycho dan realiti aku tak ramai yang boleh accept.

Thing is, bila bercakap tentang benda-benda yang cukup best dan lazat nak dibuat angan-angan time berak atau kat kelas, ada a set of things yang patut ada. Rupa fizikal tak cukup sama sekali untuk aku, macam mana power pun imaginasi aku (Power? Wak lu power.), kalau aku dah tengok minah yang lawa dan cun meletup tu cakap beef or chicken berkali-kali, otak aku terus kena assfuck.

Pastu, sebab ada stigma yang semua pramugari ni cantik dan manis macam air tebu di hari panas jembalang, ada pramugari yang gumuk, busuk dan make-up macam hantu cina bajet dia lah yang paling hot. Dialah segalanya. Tak kisah lah kalau muka dia macam cave troll dalam the Lord of the Rings pun, dialah yang paling cun. Kalau duduk tepi dia boleh terbakar jubur pasal dia hot gila. Aku tak kisah kalau sesiapa dalam dunia ni bajet hot. Aku pun bajet hot kadang-kadang bila tengah mandi. Tapi please, jangan la pandang aku pastu buat muka. Aku pandang kat kau pasal aku heran macam mana manusia macam kau boleh dilahirkan. Chromosome macam terlebih lima puluh je. Tangan extra yang ada time lahir tu sembunyi tang mana?

Sekarang, pasal aku baru balik Egypt (20 jam punya travel, mana tak gila) aku dah tak tau apa nak tulis. Fuck it. Aku dah balik neraka.

Eargasm of the day: Bukan pramugari.


Tuesday, July 31, 2012

So Long and Thanks for All the Fish.

Going back home, finally and so this blog will henceforth be on hiatus for a month or two.

See you space cowboy.

*

Eargasm of the day:


Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Knowledge Censorship.

I remembered once when I was a kid, I found Khalil Gibran's book amongst the bookshelves in the basement. So I read a bit and at that time, it was alien to me, I couldn't understand what the man was trying to project so I put it aside. Then I told my Dad and he told me that the book was banned in Malaysia.

Banned. In Malaysia.


Monday, July 9, 2012

Dreamscape.

Over the past few weeks, I've been reliving the past. I've been doing things that I used to do and it's all because of one thing: I didn't dream.


Sunday, July 8, 2012

Sleepless Nights 70 - Cosplay.

I accidentally tripped and fell into the potentially brain-cell killing side of the internet. I'm not sure if it was the sleep-deprivation that magnified the severity of the blow but holy fucking cuntnuggetry....

Fuck, I think I'm still stuck in here.


Monday, July 2, 2012

Fucking Ob/Gyn.

Ah well, ignore the title. A break from the unlimited problems with women's fucked up pelvis.

If only it was that simple...

Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Burn.

What working out felt like after taking a 2 week break.

Monday, June 18, 2012

Sleepless Nights 69 - The Edge.



Yeah, I think that the last fight scene in Avatar: The Last Airbender is probably as good as it gets. Motherfucking God mode.


Monday, June 11, 2012

Wrath.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Realisations 3 - Physical.

*The Human Nature segment will now be renamed realisation simply because human nature is impossible to comprehend*

Also, this segment will have my desktop wallpapers.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Sleepless Nights 68 - Because Real Women Never Seem to be Good Enough Part 2

Here's the first one: Click me or die a fiery death.

So, I realised that I might've left a few fictional bombshells out in the first part or the fact that I got some mixed up. So here's a second one. All the hot, mighty, fictional females to have ever graced my eyes with their presence, whether clothed or not.

I believe Sir Google misunderstood me when I searched for 'Mighty fictional females'...

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Comfortably Numb.

Lately I've been feeling like goddamned Delirium/Delight from Gaiman's Sandman. You know, utterly insane yet strangely cool with the whole fucking thing. This concerns me.

Add that to the list of women I'd kill to be with.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Youth.

You know a post is recycled when the first photo has nothing to do with anything.  Riddle me that, bitch.

Friday, May 18, 2012

The Epiphany.

As much as I hate this god forsaken piece of shit landmass that's unfit to be labelled a country, I have to admit to the fact that at times, I get some inspiration from it.

Fun thing to do: Google image search 'god forsaken piece of shit landmass  that's unfit to be labelled a country'.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Sleepless Nights 67 - The Dead Child.

Well, this popped up in a Steampunk page on facebook:

In which I sadly agree. For once.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Sleepless Nights 66 - Whatever Happened to Crazy Frog?

I hate this naked helmeted amphibian with a fiery passion of  incestuous siblings.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

An Addiction.

Trust me on this (I'd advice you not to do so in most situations), having an addiction is one of the most overrated fucking thing people tend to make an issue out of. It's fine, really, because let's just face it, everybody has an addiction.

What sucks though, is when you realise this addiction is taking over your life.


Sunday, April 15, 2012

Realisations 1 - Ignorance (Knowledge).

No, no I'm not going to talk about things that you already know. Don't want to learn cause it's all just too taxing/meaningless/boring/meh. Instead I'm gonna focus on one little tiny thing that means a lot when you look at the big picture.

Quick, whoever tells me what constellation this is, gets a cookie.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Why Being Sick Sucks and Other Short Rants.

Well, finally, I have succumbed to sickness that had been plaguing my housemates for awhile now. I succumbed to it like a slave-whore succumbs to its master, bruised, beaten and at the end, face down and ass high up.


Friday, March 30, 2012

Amelie (Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain)

The best thing about films are when they introduce you to a fictional character that seemed to fucking fit into the criteria of the girl that you would lose an arm for. Sweet God Audrey Tatou, you have ensnared me with that god damned smile...

That smile... That smile... Hnggggg....

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Sleepless Nights 64 - Disappointment.

I had something awesome to write about when I was under the shower just now but I forgot all about it and now I'm stuck here thinking that if I just keep on writing some random bullshit, it'll get back to me.

Oh yes, this is definitely going to work out.

Sir Google strikes again. This time, he brings you an apparently good band called Tomorrow's Friend.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Puzzling.

While I may have a pretty good understanding about most common things and all that, I find myself quite puzzled over some things. By puzzled, I mean I end up having a dream about it. And by dreaming I mean nightmares. And by nightmares, I mean pantaloons shitting horror.

Sir Google's understanding of 'Pantaloons shitting horror.' I must say spot on.

Friday, March 16, 2012

The History of the Bent and the Broken.

I return at last from a week of no access to my own porn laptop! I'm on a writing binge right fucking now, something I haven't done in quite a while. Basically not doing anything except writing, writing and more fucking writing.  I've completed a short story, working on another and now simultaneously writing on this blog. And shivering because it's so god damned fucking cold. And smoking. And drinking coffee.

Because fuck you that's why.



Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Vacation through the Awesome Room.

No, my room is not awesome unfortunately, it's more of a dump to be honest. I am however proud of my growing tower of cigarette boxes. I call it the tower of DEAAAAATTTTHHHH.

Like this, only minus the girl, the clean table and well... Minus everything..

Monday, February 27, 2012

My 'Deen'

Contrary to what people actually think, I find myself quite religious. Not exactly pious of course, but I have my reasons.


Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Sleepless Nights 63 - Anarchy

I read V for Vendetta - Again - and my God it has not lost any of its fucking charm. I feel like a goddamn groupie baring my tits for a lead guitarist during a concert.

Not pictured: Me baring my D cups.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Exam Blues Philosophy

It's during the days when I should be studying, these fucking thoughts linger in my fucking mind. It's a sign, the governing forces of the world does not want me to study.


Thursday, February 9, 2012

Sleepless Nights 62 - One Does Not Simply Walk Into Mordor.


Well, apparently, one can be as passive as possible and make it into Mordor. With the ring.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Sleepless Nights 61 - The (Un)Breakable Resolve.

It's funny how things tend to fuck up when you decide to do something productive. Of course by funny, I mean heart wrenching hatred that gobbles up your internal organs and sets your chest on fire.

Close enough.
When you want to study, for example, countless shit will inevitably happen. Your brain turns to mush, your bed gains an unseemly comfortability, your laundry starts to seem like it's the by product of a million chemical reactions, there will be blackouts, you suddenly lose all the important notes, your eyes have lead weights attached to them, you run out of cigarettes, Audrey Hepburn starts talking dirty to you, your friends suddenly have a million and a half problems and only you can solve them, your laptop decides that it's that time of the month and wants to have virgins sacrificed to it, your ass feels as if a demon trapped for a thousand years needs to get out.............................

And all that shit. Everything suddenly has a red flag above its head and your books seem like blood stained tampons cum-stained panties Satan ate too much chillies and had an accident on top of them. Every single fucking time.

Will you give up then? Like a Beta basement-dweller that suddenly realises that anime characters aren't real? Or will you alpha the fuck up and grab Lady Medicine from behind and penetrate her till your shit stained dick tear through her throat?! The choice is fucking yours you diddling faggot!

Apparently, this is a diddling faggot. By CinderellaPop on DeviantArt.

Here's what I'm gonna do, you fucking cum-guzzling screamer. I'm gonna post songs motherfucker! Songs! Songs! Songs!



No song unheard motherfucker! We're gonna pump this post so full of fucking resolve that Courage Wolf would get a bleeding orgasm just at the sight of this.




Experience the warmth before you grow old you cunt. The only way you're going to ever achieve that is by getting your diseased ass up and working for it.



Kickstart, rev it up, make the fucking earth shake and tremble at the sight of thine resolve. Smash them bastards to tiny little glass pieces, eat the fucking shards and shit out a perfect sculpture.



This song... Has the instant ability to grant +100 courage, +25 dexterity and +infinite awesomeness.



... 73 slides of CT scans... I... I shall not falter... Aea Earendil, Elanion Ancalima!



You and me Medicine, you and me... Also, best fucking movie, best fucking soundtrack, best fucking fucking. It's hard to understand, to be honest I'm not even sure I got the whole story right after about twenty times watching it. Still, they don't make films like this any more. Sigh. Good times...



Yes, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder but if you don't think she's cute as a little fucking puppy.... Your eyes know not what beauty is.



Fuck you CT scans. Fuck you cholangiography. Fuck you radiology.



Finally. Done. Fuck you Radiology.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Combo Breaker.

I slept for 19 hours today. Today? How does one even categorise most-of-today-and-half-of-yesterday?

I should be studying. I want to study. But now in a fucking freak fucking fuck fucking fuck situation, my laptop decided that it wants to be in silent mode. So I can't listen to music any more. So now I can't fucking study. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I looked at the photos that I was tagged in before and it's awkward. It's like looking at the progress of a recluse throughout the years. How did I manage to smile that much and how did I manage to have that much people around me? It's a fucking question that I can't seem to get out of my head now.

I want to study. Fuck fuck fuck.

I found a game, those weird simulation shit that basement-dwellers seem to value more than their lives. I downloaded it and the main reason I actually considered playing it was that a little bird told me that there was quite a lot of fap-worthy content in it. So, okay, yeah, why the fuck not. Look at the title: Disability Girls. Okay, weird, still. Played the game. Go into depression. Not only can I not fap to whatever fappable contents there is, the storyline (Which, from a writer's point of view, is fucking brilliant) actually lunges and stabs one in the fucking gonads. And heart.

I guess it's the fact that there's so many broken characters in it. There's always some sort of fucking luggage, some sort of 'Fuck you, leave me alone and don't motherfucking prod into my fucking life' kind of shit that litters the game. It feels... Familiar, in a way. Should be made into a film, really. It's twisted, yes. Here you are, trying to get into the pants of women with no arms, or no legs or no sight or no hearing or half burnt bodies but behind that seemingly fucking straightforward appeal(?) there lies a sphere of manly fucking tears. God damn. God damn. God damn. Lilly; forever entombed in memory.



Yes, for what it's worth, I actually do feel like a pervert. Then I think about how I don't care about what you think. Then I further elaborate the point by knowing that you can't do anything about it. So I happily unzip my pants and bathe the world in alpha juice go on with my life. Seriously though, if it is to be considered; what's wrong with a disability. I don't exactly see the point in feeling ashamed when being around disabled people. They know they're disabled, you know it, so what's the point in trying to sugar coat your words.

Let's take an example. You meet a blind person. Fall in love for some weird reason (Fetish? Fetish.). Then when you go out to a new place, you feel awkward cause here you are, going 'Look at that! Look at that! Look at that!' when she can't fucking see. Then you apologise and live your whole life wishing that you're blind too.

You candy-assgot. That's what I don't get; that awkwardness. If it's a new thing and she can't see, fucking describe that shit to her. In detail. Like to the most extreme detail that even an autistic would miss. Don't be fucking sorry. She doesn't feel sorry, so why should you?

I am obviously looking way too deep into this fucking game.

Fuck that deaf cunt.
People are weird. I don't think I know how to communicate with them any more. There was this dude from Germany who came to visit my housemates and I couldn't talk to him. He introduced himself and I shook his hand and that was it. My friend had to intervene and say 'Oh, yeah, and that's Zufar.' I actually wished he had went on and said I was a freak of nature, that would've solved my problem. There's no more charm in strangers. Well, there is, but once they start to speak to you, the image is shattered.

That said, maybe I should work in a mental institution. Since everybody, is insane, I'm pretty fucking sure that there's bound to be something interesting that would happen everyday. Food for thought, I guess. I don't even fucking know what to do after school any more. Everybody is saying 'Do it for the passion!' or 'Do it for the money!' but that shit doesn't make sense to me either way. What about doing it just because you're doing it? For no reason? That's acceptable? Why must there be a reason when one wants to do something?

The novel is coming along well, I guess. I've got some things laid out for the plot progression. It sucks though, Getaran Jiwa is the easiest of the trilogy and I have no idea how to arrange the mountains of shit into a storyline for the next parts.

You know I'm thinking of something to write when I start posting fucking memes.
Yeah, I'm out of fucking ideas...

Eargams of the day: Because my laptop is being such a bitch.


Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Sleepless Nights 60 - Kashmir; Again.

I want to go to Kashmir. I have no idea why, it must be the fact that these fucking books are giving me a serious case of wanderlust, it's not enjoyable any more. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I've finally finished Shalimar the Clown, took exactly a month. Disappointing of course, considering I finished half the book in the past 3-4 hours. Procrastination is being my new fucking mistress now.
Before I forget, I'd like to thank the people who actually rate my post-disguised rants. It brings me much joy, whoever it is, I thank you and urge you do more. I don't think people know how I appreciate this blog being read (And read. And commented. And loved. And used as material to get the love juices flowing down to the sides of the thighs. Call me.), it gives me something to do. I realise I don't thank people enough. It's the ego probably, the incessant psychological foundation in which I believe that I'm extremely independent. This could of course be a rue to actually lure more readers in hopes that they fall for the tough-guy-blooming-heart routine, which come to think of it is highly probable given the fact that I cannot arrest my need to be constantly manipulative. I digress. Where the fuck was I?

And I.... I.... Fuck, where was I...
That's Prachi Desai. One of the hottest fucking creatures to roam the earth nowadays.

I now have a portrait of Audrey Hepburn up in my room. The extent of her beauty is such that it falls into the category of sin, no woman should be that fucking beautiful. It's extra-ordinary. It eats one up, making one reluctant to move from one's bed, where one could get the full view of her smile as soon as one wakes up and restricts one from going to class. Honestly - And this is meant for both genders - could you actually have the fucking heart to break away from a smile and go to class when the smile looks like this:

No you can't, you cunt. How could you even consider that fucking thought. No you can't. Doing so would be going against the rules of motherfucking nature.
I believe I'm stuck in that void where women's beauty are accentuated in the event where they don something traditional. It does not matter what kind of garment it is; it could be a kebaya, salwar kameez, cheong sam, kimono, whatever, point is that if they do, I'm a sucker for it. Bonus points - No - A hundred million fucking stars for them if they actually act as polite as they look. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Give me a goddamn gun already. Cultured. Yeah, that's how they should come.

Suddenly, a wave of depression as one realises that they are no longer made as they were used to.

Ah well.

My mind is so fucking boggled nowadays with the thought of what to study for the oncoming surgery exams. No, I'm not that much of a retard so as to not have a clue at all, I'm just confused considering there's also a fucking oral exam. This unnerves me. Quite a lot.

Someone asked me about my take on adoption before. I shrugged it off, probably because I don't actually care much about the topic or it must've been the inquirer was not someone I was fond of. No matter, the subject has piqued my interest now.

I guess the simplest way to say it would be that a person would have to walk over my cold dead corpse before he or she could manage to convince me to adopt a kid. Call me shallow, call me an insane cunt, whatever. I have an abnormal hatred towards kids in general, and by general, I mean those who are not connected to me by the bond blood. I cannot, under any circumstances, take in a child who shares nothing with me and call him son/daughter. I find the thought two inches short of being revolting. How am I supposed to take this... Being whose history I know nothing of and teach him or her things that has been passed down to me from my very own ancestors? Perish the thought. Out of the question. Sure, call me an insensible husk of a human being but when it comes down to certain issues, I honestly do not believe in any compromise.

What the fuck is with this ramblings...

Eargasm of the day: The greatest song to have ever been created.


Thursday, January 26, 2012

Sleepless Nights 59 - Farewell Blues

No, no, don't consider this blog deserted. I'm having a tough break at the moment and my brain is too clogged up to spew up some ideas to write and ponder upon. Or it could be that all my creativity has been sapped by the fucking novel and I'm now left dry and limp and... Well, you get the point.

I think I'm having a fucking mental breakdown over all these shit. Surgery, Internal Medicine, the Novel, myself in general, lack of productivity, all of them are fucking coming at me with fucking swords. Paranoia is on its way, or hell, it's already here innit. There's just too much to fucking do in a lifetime. Too fucking much.

Okay... Chuck Wilson is going on the list of people to avoid and possibly murder while out on a stroll.
A few days ago while I was in class, the teacher started to go ahead and tell us about different surgeries and all that shit I knew nothing of. It's like a fucking slacking alarm bell, ringing just exclusively for me. Other people are nodding and asking shit while I'm wide eyed at the back wondering what the fuck is the goddamn  contents of the spermatic cord. My fucking Anatomy was flushed down with all the other theory years shit the day I got the news that I passed my exam. Fucking hell man, surgery is fucking nuts.

I can't even seem to read a book properly lately. I've been at Rushdie's Shalimar the Clown since the 31st of December. Can you even fathom that? Reading a book for almost a fucking month? It's bollocks.

Possibly his best after Midnight's Children. Goddamn this book is awesome.
Thing is, it's not like it's a boring book or anything. It's fucking awesome. There's so much romanticisation of beauty in the book to the point that it's fucking absurd. Still I take a fucking month to read it. Goddamit all.

I'm not ready to grow up. I'm content with the fact that I still like to do things that I have been doing ever since I was a kid. It's not like growing up is a bad thing or anything but I've seen so many people losing the essence of their being when they decided to be fucking mature and all that jizz. I need to keep a part of me insane and carefree to even fucking function in society.

Then it's the fucking novel. You know what, when I first wrote it, I had the idea of writing our story. It will be epically magical, a realm of fact nesting on a bed of fiction and only few would truly know what they're reading. I want to let them know how great it was but holy fucking shit, now I'm finding it so hard to tell. It's like being exposed, being robbed, being fucking torn. This was our story, and here I am showing them what it was like. Being fucking naked, more like.

But it's okay. Things will work out. As the fucking optimists love to shove down our throats.

Eargasm of the day. The only thing that actually fucking relates to the fucking title.


Sunday, January 15, 2012

Sleepless Nights 58 - Notion of Romance.

It's fucking amazing how facebook could manage to annoy me so nowadays. Fucking pictures with quotes decorated with glimmering shit and what's said does not even make sense. Then you have retards going 'TRIPLE LIKE' or 'THAT'S SO TRUE OMGWTFBBQ' and all sorts of other bullshit. I am, of course being rather light on them because for some reason, none of them could spell any more. I digress though, I'm here to talk about other things.

OMGWTFBBQTRIPLELIKE
I don't mind the quotes really, some of them are pretty well thought out. Most are cliché of course but so is your Mom.

Wait, no, really. I can't stomach that.

The truth of the matter is that all these fucking quotes are made up by cunts that got their hearts broken along the way and decide to publish their newfound faggotry for the whole wide world to see. "Oh, I will marry the other woman even when I'm already married to the epic love of my life. Why? Because my Mom wants me too and I'm awesome and I can fucking sacrifice her feelings and shit just for the giggles."

That's from Ombak Rindu. A film so fucking Beta it should be reincarnated as a man and be crucified.

I had am argument with some acquaintances previously about this very thing, and they were all about 'That man is a strong one, since he can let go and make everyone happy.' What. What? How does that make any fucking sense?

If I were to have to choose between my Mother's choice of woman or the love of my life, then the answer would be simple. I'd leave my paramour, say no to my Mom and fucking live my life as a celibate monk. That's what I told them. So they countered with the fact that now, not only have you messed things up for yourself, you've destroyed another person's life.

Look. One of our magnificent human character is the ability to forget and actually move on. It would take a while, no shit, but at a point it'd happen. We humans also have the ability to receive and give so much love that it's fucking impossible to not find another person. So, I'm not destroying another person's life, I am merely depriving her of the love and care that under suitable circumstances would have been given freely. Sooner or later, she'd find someone else, have fun etc. I honestly believe that this is fucking better than me actually getting married to another woman while she watches from the sidelines. Two-timing is still two-fucking-timing and my God that spineless cunt of a bastard child should be murdered in cold blood. The injustice of it. And you have people applauding him. Women; please. Have some pride. (Ready for feminine shitstorm mode activated!)

Fauziah Ashari must be shot.
Problem is... It's so easy, you know. Giving up on true love just cause of a major bump in the system.

I actually do believe in the notion of a true romance. Sacrificing everything for that one other, it really does seem fucking noble to me. I believe that while it's hard, it'll be worth it and most of all, I believe one must not falter when it gets unbelievably fucking hard. Most of the time, it does not work but when it does, it's magic. The concept of soulmates is not as far-fetched as people would like to think, why is it so hard to trust in the fact that some people are crafted to fit each other like a ball and socket?

When it comes to expressing it, I honestly don't see the point in putting pretty words together and making one's significant other blush in awe. Saying things like 'I can't go to fucking sleep because I keep on thinking of you' is a fucking lie for fuck's sake, or else we'd have humanity fighting for survival of the species.

The simplest way of saying it is this. Tell a lady that you don't think about her twenty-four hours. If she cannot appreciate the utter truth and simplicity in this matter-of-fact sentence, then dump her ass. If she does however inquire further, then tell her the truth. Tell her that even when that is so, the moments that you spend with her is so fucking intoxicating that nothing worldly or otherworldly could ever make its presence heard. Tell her that yeah, you do actually think of other women but when she's there, not even Zooey Deschanel could distract you. If she does seem sane and accept these notions, fucking wife her.



I've met and known some people that are insanely epic when it comes to the matters of the heart; my parents and grandparents are in that group too. When you see the connection in these people that's when you feel so utterly inadequate for even thinking that you know what a real romance even looks like.

Fucking sappy post innit?

Eargasm of the day:




“Don’t leave me,” he said, rolling over onto his back and panting for joy. “Don’t you leave me now, or I’ll never forgive you, and I’ll have my
revenge, I’ll kill you and if you have any children by another man I’ll kill the children also.”

“What a romantic you are,” she replied carelessly. “You say the sweetest things.”

-Noman and Boonyi; Shalimar the Clown by Salman Rushdie.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Things That Actually Piss Me Off.

Immensely. I shit you not on this and I swear it on the soul of a star and the body of the moon with mortals as my witness and the earth; my judge. (That actually sounds pretty fucking awesome. Oh, me.)

Anyway, since I haven't been updating as much as I should (Should? What is this should?), I've come up with a list of the ultimate acts of fuckberries that tend to poke at the demonic being sleeping in me. Think Azathoth. Wait, I forgot. You don't know who Azathoth is, do you. Oh, you.

1. Slow walkers.

Why: Because they are a pest on the street and should be swiftly exterminated.

I'm not talking about people who take leisurely walks. I do that, everybody does that, what I truly fucking mean is how some people tend to walk in groups and since their embryological development must have been arrested  at just about the time things like manners and consideration began to form, the fact eludes them. Hog the street by fucking walking alongside each either like the great wall of motherfucking fuckness and ignore the environment.

This is what I feel like doing every single fucking time. Also, guy on far right looks like an elephant.
That's not the worst of it, the ultimate uh, G-spot of anger stimulation is when you pass them and they give you a look as if you're the biggest fucking candy-ass in existence. At that point, it seems as if you're the one that's actually in the fucking wrong, not these fucks that hog the goddamn pavement like it's their goddamn fucking gift to mankind. And when that happens, my wrath escalates to a whole new fucking level.

Fucking cunts deserve to be flayed and thrown into an acid bath.


2. Indecisive Speech.

Again, no, I'm not talking about how you tend to think about shit before you actually do it. I'm talking about people who... Fuck, let's take an example.

A: *Playing video games or raping a 75 year old mastectomy patient*
B: Dude, what the fuck man, you should *Insert carefully planned instructions here* and then you'll get there.
A: Right, okay.
B: Oh, but you know, that's what I think, if you don't want to do it then it's okay.


Look, I generally absofuckinglutely abhor people who tend to tell me what to do when there's so many other ways to do it. Like when you can go left, he/she berates you about the benefits of going right instead. So while I already am offended and pissed, he/she suddenly acts all saint-like and gives a little bastard laugh with the words: Oh, but you know, just from my perspective. Well fuck your perspective you fucking cum-guzzler, do you honestly think that I actually need your guidance doing something which one needs no special skills to master? It's like telling a guy how to hold his fucking cock while he takes a piss.

In contrast, I'd appreciate it a fuckload more if you'd shout at me like, at least then I'll have the excuse to elbow you in the goddamn mouth.

3. Bad Table Manners.

This one is fucking simple, yet so many people fuck it up. I don't particularly blame the participant to be honest, it's their upbringing innit? Still, it pisses me the fuck off, more so then anything else. If you still don't get what I mean, here's a scenario. You're doing something which more or less needs little or no concentration at all. Then comes a person who sits beside you. Said person has some sort of foodstuff and yeah, you admit, you feel quite hungry at the time too. Then he starts to eat, and then this:

When I'm angry, I start to fucking do a form of destructive ballet. Also, holy shit, the curves on that lady.
Why? I understand your obvious confusion reader(s?) but allow me to explain. The moment said associate starts eating, the noise that starts to be emitted from his/her mouth is not only fucking nauseating but also fucking infuriating. I can think of at least ten more verbs but let me just stop myself. It's amazing to discover how the human mouth could make such squelchy fucking noises but most of the time, my meagre admiration is swiftly and brutally murdered by the overwhelming wrath.

The thing is, okay, I get it, you're used to eating with your mouth open and have mastered the art of SBUM (Sonic Booms Upon Mastication) but is it really that fucking hard to close your goddamned mouth when you eat in public? Yes, I actually am being fucking anal here and this is one of the times when I think that I'm allowed to be a fucking cunt.



4. Runny Noses.

This is the pattern. Easy maladies that can be overcome with a bit of cheap materials but people don't do it cause fuck what everybody else experiences, I could care less.

I actually know what it feels like to have a runny nose that fucking leaks every half a day or so. Been there, nothing special about it. Yeah, okay, drugs make you drowsy, fine. What about tissues then? There'll be too much of them lying around? Okay that seems legit, after all, who wants shit like that. What about handkerchiefs then? You're allergic to them? Yeah, now I'm allergic to your fucking presence.


No, you refuse all of these fucking solutions, turning instead to snorting that shit back up your nose and making a fucking racket. Every three fucking seconds. I don't know man, to me it seems like a pretty simple thing to combat. Blow your nose. That simple, really.

5. Parasites That Make a Mockery Out of The Art.

Ah yes. This. Well then.

I don't think I need to explain about the parasitic nature of yours truly. What I want to outline is the fact that some people try to be parasites and end up making a fucking fool out of themselves.

This came up as a search result. Oh sir Google, you know me all too well.
As much as it seems unrealistic for a fellow parasite to follow a set of rules, it's true. It's mostly logic of course.

i. Always have a backup plan. You know, just in case what you want for free becomes unattainable without some sort of compensation from your pockets.
ii. If you're leeching off friends, never aim the same place twice in a week. That saves you the fucking misery of passive-aggressiveness. Also, seriously man, are you that daft?
iii. Never ever reveal your intent e.g. 'Oh man, you should give me some free food.' or 'I'm going to your house for dinner and then I'm going to leave without any feeling of shame'.
iv. Never fucking leech off your permanent contacts.

The final one has always been my favourite. People whom you know will be there for a long fucking time, you don't fuck around with them. For me it's family. You don't fucking parasitise upon family. Or be picky with them. Of course, I'd like to say that everybody should follow the guidelines but I guess some people are not really built for it.

Nowadays you have these buggers that go around proudly exposing the fact that they're parasites with utter disregard of any fucking decency. Fucking cunts. Rot in the tenth circle of hell.

6. Hygiene.

If you have known me, or at least known my good friend Common Sense, you'd know that when it comes to hygiene, I'm not the champion of it. I am, however extremely particular about a few items.

You wish you could get up in the morning and fucking look like this while taking a bath.
My rule is simple. Rooms can be as dirty as you want them to be, hey, go fucking nuts decorating your walls with faeces, I don't care. What I do care however is the condition of the toilet and the fucking kitchen.

Really, is it that fucking hard to clean up the dishes or fucking keep the WC in a soothing condition? Fucking dirty dishes, hair in the sink-hole, are they really that hard to dispose off? It pisses me the fuck off, holy fuck it's a fucking plate for God's sake, fucking wash it already.

7. Whiny Little Fucks.

You've got problems. Yeah, I get that. You need to talk it out and vent, yeah I kinda get that too. What I don't get is the fact that you must, YOU MUST continuously repeat the fact that your fucking life sucks mega-proton-metsu-hadouken-balls to me. I am actually boasting here and the truth is that I'm a pretty good listener but going on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on...

About it does not make me any fucking wiser about the matter at hand. Yes, I have an impeccable understanding of the situation now but no, I do not know what to do even if you tell the same fucking thing a million fucking times. I get pissed off and when I get pissed off I isolate myself and when I isolate myself, you no longer have a fuck-buddy place to rant and when you no longer have a place to rant, you call me a selfish cunt.

... Apparently... A band...
Two things which piss me off about it. One; you find the need to actually tell people about your problems and fucking drag them into the chasm that you yourself haven't climbed out of. This is forgiveable actually, no matter how much a cunt it makes you seem like. Two; the fact that you have not even tried to fucking resolve the problem on your own, in fact, you do absolutely nothing about it, non-whatsoever. You don't even try to help yourself and your first fucking impulse was to seek out the nearest fuck and tell said fuck all about it.

Fucking cunts, the lot of yous.

Eargasm of the day: Fuck, I keep forgetting this fucking segment in.