Sunday, August 28, 2005

wooOooOoooooooo

It's six in the morning and I can't get to sleep. It's been this way for the last 5 hours in which I have done the following:

1) Trimmed my nosehairs. I decided to stop after I realised that I was a sleep deprived guy with a small pair of incredibly sharp scissors up my nostril.

2) Cut my toenails. There was shrapnel flying everywhere and I think it hit the little kitty that was dozing away in my laundry basket. Serves the little demon right for sleeping in there, adorable though she was.

3) Peeled the potatoes that I will be using for lamb stew tomorrow. Do you reckon it's possible to get high from potato skin fumes? I feel a little light headed. I probably shouldn't have handled the knife.

4) Killed 5 mosquitoes by hand. I feel like a kungfu-ninja-matrix-type person right now. Whoa, I know kung fu.

5) Decided that everyone was a cunt and that they should give all their money to me.

6) Giggled at the word "diphthong". heh. Diphthong.

7) Giggled at Wang Utama. hehehehe. Wang Utama. heh. coff.

I will try to go to bed now. I probably shouldn't be drinking this bottle of pepsi.

You're all assholes. Your mother looks at you and it makes her cry herself to sleep at night.

These random bursts of omnidirectional hatred are surprisingly cathartic.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

i am the champion!!!

So today, I pooed so hard, I couldn't feel my ass after.

And then all my poo blocked the toilet at Alamanda.

Then the toilet overflowed.

*superhero pose*

So what did YOU achieve today?

constipation

I've been bothered for the past few days.

It's like there has been a sudden burst of creativity and I can't get at it. You know the feeling probably. All the ideas that fade in and out at random. And the whole time you get, like, aarghrrr gROWL AARGGGHH RGGGGHHR RRRRRRRRHHHH BRRRRRR BWAARRRRR!!!!!!!!


HULK SMASSH!!!!


miaw?

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

quote of the day

hahaha!

In a discussion about prostate flexing to increase power and control of the male orgasm, my female flatmate asked "So how do you flex your prostate?"

I go into a detailed explanation while in the background, the third member of the party is asking "What is a prostate?" He's a guy.

Anyhoo, he gets really agitated when we ignore him and yells the immortal words:

"TELL ME WHAT A PROSTATE IS AND I'LL TELL YOU HOW I FLEX IT!"

You can't make this shit up, I swear.

This is going on a t-shirt.

Monday, August 22, 2005

armpit

You see the entry below this one? It's obselete. Bwahahahahah!

I am an idiot.

I go eat chocolate now.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

uh

So, I started this blog for a few reasons. The first was to have a place where I could put all my brainfarts together so I could glean some inspiration for my work. The other was so that I could have whatever it is that festers inside pinned down on a screen for dissection. The other-OTHER one was, well, because the therapist lady said it might be a good idea. She gets paid to do brain stuff so I'm inclined to believe her.

As the few of you who stop by every so often can see, what goes on in my head is pretty much random crap and vulgarities involving everybody's mother, her unmentionables and, well, unmentionables in general. The emo stuff has been few and far between. Which is probably a good reflection on my life since I started this ego stroking exercise in intellectual masturbation. Not much going on in the heart department and general arsing around in the brain department.

Why am I saying all this? It's a disclaimer. Strap your knickers on. Here comes the emo.

I've been buoyed by a ridiculous sense of euphoria for the past few days. I won't say why. Because of privacy issues. But it was the sort of euphoria that makes you prance around and piss people off.

There was an ache. But it was good. Because there was a good reason for the ache. The ache itself didn't matter at all. The reason behind it, however, was fantastic. And that made me love the ache. It's kinda like a hickey. The actual thing itself is quite an ugly manifestation. A little red spot on flawless skin. But the reason why it's there in the first place is what makes you love the hickey. Get it? No? Go get yourself a hickey, then come back.

And then there was a discussion. And then there was a decision made (still not very sure what it was). And then in all the chaos, I felt as if the waiter pulled the table cloth out from under the plates right as I was about to start on the chocolate cake with my expensive silver mini-fork thing for eating cakes with. Only worse.

Before I forget, this entry IS NOT AN ACCUSATION. It's an aid for me to adjust my thoughts and man-feelings. Which are like feelings. Only manly and stuff. Because everyone knows I'm a manly man of manliness. I'll probably remove it once everything's settled down. This post, I meant. Not my manliness. That stays.

Ok. So today. Things felt odd. I was out the whole day with a friend. But I felt disconnected and distracted. I haven't been pleasant to be with. I don't like it. I missed something or someone or whatever.

I just went through my message bank. There was some communication today but it felt stilted and awkward. The messages were so vastly different that it jarred me quite a bit. The phonecalls were difficult for me. Forced. And it felt like I was stepping on eggshells the whole time.

What to do? What to do? I don't want to lose someone who's become my favourite person. That would represent sucktitude of epic proportions.

There were still calls. And messages were still sent.

I still missed you today.

And as pathetic as it sounds, I'm quite sure you missed me too.

Friday, August 19, 2005

Buggerration

I feel like I messed up.

In fact, I'm quite sure I did.

My pants are not happy.

I go to ponder upon the nature of the universe.

In other news, the asshole that parked perpendicularly to my housemates car so that we were stuck in the Indian restaurant is an arsehole. Which is like an asshole, only British, so by definition is more sarcastic. What an asshat. Seriously, who purposely parks in an angle opposing the one that is drawn on the road so that he blocks another guy's car? A bastardly bastard full of bastard-stuff. That's who. Today, he will have mysterious invisible grains of sand in his underwear. THAT WILL MIGRATE INTO HIS URETHRA(pee tube)! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

He must be a metrosexual. Only their kind are that self-centered. I must accelerate my plans to remove them from the gene pool.

I'm going to have some chocolate. SANDWICHED IN CHOCOLATE.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

this is your brain! your brain on pain!

I have a migraine.

Everything is a bastard.

Well. Except you, you're ok. You can stay because you smell nice

But the rest of you are bastards.

Also, your mother.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Glee!

I'm going to bed.

With a damned song in my heart and an idiot grin on my face.

But there is an ache and a yearning there, (my heart I meant, not my face)

for the funny faces and THOSE moments and THAT laugh and THAT smile and THAT scent and THAT voice.

My my, but it hurts so good.

ps: I realise it's two in the afternoon, but I want to, so all of you can shut up. Bwahahahaha!

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

place holder blog entry number 1

Bitch bitch bitch bitch.

Whine whine. Cry cry

Attitude attitude. Drama drama

Whine whine

Bitch about different thing.

Bitch

Lame remark to appear clever.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Dear Ladies, part cinq

Your vagina is not a Doraemon-style magical pocket. You are NOT supposed to keep things in it.

You're not supposed to use it as a mini handbag.

Do NOT attempt to stuff it with compacts, mobile phones, lipstick or whatever.

However good an idea it might seem to be at the time, you WILL regret it later when you have to waddle over to the emergency room to have the doctor poke around in there with his tongue depressor, looking for your (by then) smegma encrusted items.

Remember, the vagina is a place for you to have babies and sex. It is NOT a place for you to keep things in. Or something you can do party tricks with.

Love, hugs and kisses,
Fishballs

P.S: Despite how it looks in diagrams, the vagina is NOT THAT SPACIOUS.

P.P.S: This is dedicated to one lady in particular. She knows who she is.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

moskibang

It's my new favourite word.

Right after "cuntmother"

All the cool kids say it.

Monday, August 08, 2005

floppy grandmother vagina lips

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Oh, how I laughed. Laughed and laughed till it hurt.

Also, special message for Kim: The shower head does NOT go there.

The sun shines a little less brighter today. Back to the drudgery of school and Cyberjaya. C'est la vie and stuff.

Saturday, August 06, 2005

This is a public service announcement:

Stop being a cuntface.

No, seriously, stop.

Nobody likes it and it's not impressing anyone.

You look like you think you're clever. But then, you'd be the only one. Did you know, your mother probably has vaginal cramps everytime you say something to cement your cuntfacial nature?

And everytime your father looks at you, he has to resist the urge to have at his groin with something sharp and metal.

Jesus probably kills something small and fluffy everytime you breathe.

So think of the small and fluffy ones, and stop being a cuntface. It's too late to save your parents as it is.

This public service announcement was brought to you by the Ministry of Also Applies to Assholes and Metrosexuals.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

MY EYES!

First week in Lim Kok Wing. It's not too bad. The teachers are a little...slow, but the ones I have are nice and friendly. And new faces are always fun.

Now I just have to get over the sheer hideousness of the place. It's like someone chewed up everything they thought had something to do with design and threw up all over the place. Then rolled around in it for awhile.

Jesus Christ in a candy coloured g-string, it's as if the word 'subtlety' never occurred to them.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

intertron 3000

I gots da broadband going, yo.

A week's exposure to Cyberjaya has basically reduced my brain into a sort of mush, with the occasional lump of thought floating around. The whole place seems to have been designed to induce the degeneration of brain matter. Nothing moves here. Except for cars. And they zoom by with an amazing alacrity, almost as if their drivers were trying to get out of the place before they get infected with this bizzarre form of viral stupidity that has afflicted me.

Most memorable quote of the day, mentioned at The Coffee Bean, Low Yat, courtesy of my housemate: "We better hurry home, Joey and Desperate Housewives will be starting soon."

Oh dear Jeebus.

Happiness will be arriving in the form of Kim in a few days. Yay!