Your mother likes it rough

congratulations!

2007-04-13T05:42:00.000+08:00

Mario, the princess is in another castle.

:( part 2

2006-12-23T01:44:00.000+08:00

mood: blind
listening to: Stevie Wonder: Greatest Hits

My girlfriend who tells me that she loves me poked me in the eye.

This makes me sad on the inside.

: (

2006-12-06T07:46:00.000+08:00

I miss my grandad.

Serial nights of insomnia have resulted in me thinking about him quite a bit in the past few weeks. He died a couple of years ago.

He was fantastic. He brought me to movies when I was younger. And to boot it off, he loved all those awesome American action movies chock full of testosterone. Air Force One, Die Hard and all it's spawn. Ditto Jurassic Park. I was first exposed to King Kong in the eighties, thanks to him. On VHs. And he would have loved Peter Jackson's take on the giant ape. He was the main reason we would make a trip out in the car to the local laser-disc store (remember those huge bastards?) to rent horrible action movies where things blew up and people died. It's because of him that I can appreciate movies like Kill Bill, Snakes on a Plane. And to this day, I love any Sylvester Stallone movie where people get killed horrible and shit blows up. I mean, this man was so awesome, he spent 50 dollars on tickets and snacks for me, my sister and him to watch the Titanic. He proceeded to wrap himself up in his jacket and told me to wake him up when the shit started hitting the fan. 50 dollars spent willingly just to watch the spectacle of a ship sinking into the water. Then he went to sleep again until the movie ended. Then he said it was a good movie. You know what, he'd probably have loved Michael Bay's abominable take on Pearl Harbour. 'Cos, y'know, shit blew up and people died.

I remember when I was in primary four (or thereabouts) my mum yelled at me for taking too many of his cans of Coca-Cola (he just loved the stuff, and well, so do I). After yelling at me for about half an hour, she left me crying like a wuss in the guest bedroom. A few minutes later, when she left to do some stuff, he snuck in the room with a massive grin and a can of the drink for me in his pocket and told me that I was welcome to his stash anytime I wanted. Irregardless of what my mum says. Then he grinned some more and buggered off to watch stuff blow the fuck up on tv.

He bought me toys. And taught me how to appreciate them for their engineering and sculpting. This is the reason Transformers hold a happy place in me. They remind me of him. And the feeling I had when he was around.

He bought me my first video-game consoles (an NES rip-off and, later, a Sega Genesis) and introduced a whole new medium of storytelling to me. He bought a ginormous Lego technics set and we spent every night of 3 weeks putting together a massive car. We messed up the gearbox, but whatever. He loved Salem cigarrettes (they killed him, which is why I would never smoke), red bean ice-cream, braised pork legs in XO sauce. He was a dentist and a competitive badminton player. He hated butter and lamb but loved chicken chops.

At one point in time, we went to the Sarawak Museum every weekend. Just to look at stuff together. I can still see him in my head chatting with my grandmother on the patio every evening when I came back from school. I think they're the definition of the perfect couple.

I was in Sydney when he died. My mum called me at 7.15 am Sydney-time to tell me. I had spent the whole night blubbering on the couch because I knew it was coming so when she called I was just numb. I was numb for the longest time. And I didn't cry for him until a couple of months back, because I'm fucked up that way.

They wouldn't let me go back for the funeral. I was pretty fucking pissed of about that. I still am. Majorly so.

I'm not being very grammatically correct and this post is badly written but the point of it all is this:

My grandad was awesome.

my grandmother is a ninja. she will stab you many times in the dark. with a knife.

2006-11-21T05:07:00.002+08:00

Seriously. All of you are bastards. Every single fucking last one of you. Except for you at the back there with the buttons on your pants. You're an asshat.

Random diatribes of ANGER aside, things that have happened since my little corner of the intarwebs went down with a debilitating venereal disease, IN THE GROIN:

1. The Lady got new slippers and a new phone.
2. I got new speakers. Cheap.
3. I discovered that there are a LOT of bloody idiotic people in KL.
4. These people are still allowed to use their gonads to produce more stupid children. Stupid with a capital DUMBASS. WHY?!
5. I intended to buy an Xbox360.
6. My laptop is showing signs of dying. No more Xbox360.
7. Optimus Prime can, and will, kick anyone's ass.
7a) special clause for Lainie: This includes Daredevil. In yellow OR in red.

Muahaha.

oh.my.god.like, totally.

2006-07-10T14:45:00.002+08:00

Shows my girlfriend have gotten me addicted to since we started living together:

Survivor
One Tree Hill
Random Chinese 6 pm soap
American Idol

Shows I have gotten her addicted to since we started living together:

Scrubs

My macsulinity, it hangs on like a limpet to the rocks in a raging storm, slowly losing its grip. Screaming out its futile words of defiance, lost in the cacophany of sound.

Plus, I really like One Tree Hill now. Damn damn damn bloody damn damn.

PS: does anyone know what a limpet looks like and if it actually clings to rocks?

FUCK

2006-06-28T03:05:00.000+08:00

I have spent the last six fucking hours of my fucking life trying to get all my stupid fucking music into my fucking iPod. FUCK. Stupid fucker of an iPod keeps fucking freezing on my fat Chinese ass.

And it being 3 in the bloody morning my vocabulary is basically, on a scale of 1 to 10, stupid.

FUCK.

Ohh! Look at me! An Apple user! Look at my pretty Apple products! My shiny silver laptop! My white square shaped music player with rounded edges! Come! Have your flabbers gasted while I repeatedly get reamed from behind as I try to get some monkey tossing music on my AU$500 music player! Ohhh! My rectum! It hurts so good! Yes! Please, Mr Steve Jobs! Can I have some more!

Motherfucking overhyped piece of white plastic fucking cuntwhore motherlicking son of a backwards rhinoceros.

FUCK! ARgh, damnit. The word doesn't even begin to relieve my feelings anymore. Arschloch mutter dirne schnecke bumser.

Bugger this for a herd of camels.

I'll whistle if I need music.

she's a lady

2006-04-24T14:15:00.000+08:00

My darling love is the most exquisite thing that has happened to me since some dude invented soft toilet paper.

I will not hear a word said against her for her honour is mine to defend and other foofy romantic crap like that.

BUT.

She kicked me out of the bed last night. I mean literally, with an ingenius combination of foot- and arm- action, the woman who is the heart, soul and center of the happiness in my life managed to kick me, a fat bastard who is a whole 30% heavier than her, off the god-damned bed. All the while sleeping the deep, drooling, snoring sleep of the sinless. No amount of dodging, weaving or general athletics (hah!) could prevent the inevitable.

Truly, my kung-fu is not worthy.

crap

2006-03-17T17:10:00.000+08:00

Nghh.

Ngggggghhhhhh!

NGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

Squelch. Sploosh.

Aaaaaaaah.

Wipe-wipe.

Flush.

Parp.

school is FUN! HAVE FUN, DAMN YOU!

2006-03-05T12:24:00.000+08:00

Wheeee! It's been, what, three weeks since school started again? The Fishballs, he is liking the CenFad so far. He is liking the CenFad very much. The teachers are hilarious, if a little off kilter, the food it reasonable if a little randomly priced and the work is fun if a little abundant. The classmates are... I'll save the classmates for later.

However, the computers are slower than taking a size ten shit out of a size two ass and the Internet access is as speedy as your grandmother in the toilet. Two toilet analogies in a single sentence. I am king.

Now then, we come to my favourite bit: the classmates. Now most of my classmates are decent people, lovely and intelligent. The rest however, are buffoons of the highest order. Loudmouths who's main objective in life is to irritate the fuck out of anyone within a certain radius of themselves. Stupid fuck-ups who's fucking idea of a fucking joke is this: "Hey Miriam, we should call you Mary-anne" They follow this up with a grating laugh not dissimilar to donkey in labour who's baby is coming out sideways. THROUGH THE RECTUM. JESUS H. CHRIST ON A FRENCH FUCKING CROISSANT THIS MOTHERFUCKER GETS ON MY FUCKING NIPPLES. Seriously, the only thing that is preventing me from jumping across the class and stabbing him in the fucking eyesockets with my graphite pencils is the fact that graphite pencils are expensive and I'm on a budget.

Then there's the lady in the class whom I like to call "Oooh Look at Me Please Pay Attention to Me" or as I like to call her OMG STOP IT YOU FUCKING CUNT AND DIE DIE DIE DIE DAMNIT. She stands around and tries to fish for compliments about her sub-standard work. AND SHE KEEPS ASKING IF ME IF HER HAIR IS FLAT AND OMG SHE HAS HAIR LIKE MICHAEL JACKSON FROM THE 80's. Note of importance: If you have hair like Michael Jackson from the 80's, it does not matter if your hair is flat because you look like a fucking troll anyway. Note part deux: If your hair is naturally curly like that, fair enough, sucks to be you. But SHE DID IT ON PURPOSE OMGWTFBBQ. Disclaimer: Keem's hair is curly as well, but not McDonald's Curly Fries curly. But even if it was, I would adore it. With all my heart. Also egg-tarts.

Bleagh. But I've met a few cool people here as well so it ain't THAT bad. Also, I've been hanging out with that Lainie and also Miriam, who agrees with me about the bottom-feeding, cruel-tricks-of-nature that I've just mentioned.

And Lainie is girly.

My hunny-bunny-poopy-schnookums is coming tomorrow. My insides are all a-squishy in excitement.

The asshole on the next computer is playing FIFA by himself and he is swearing at the computer ref. Fucking tool.

hurt

2006-03-01T19:42:00.000+08:00

ouch

wheeeee!!!

Pussywhipped

2006-02-06T11:11:00.000+08:00

I am the tyrant of a woman who stomps over the man who writes in this blog.

This is one of my moves to take over his life.

Give me your powerbook!

Whips, chains and needles,
Your darling.

Fishballs' amazing insight no.53

2006-01-29T10:38:00.001+08:00

The phrase "if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself" doesn't really apply to blowjobs.

Sekian, harap maklum.

Also, Happy Chinese New Year, you bastards.

c'est amour

2006-01-11T18:02:00.000+08:00

My girlfriend is bouncing around the room in a pair of horrible red boxers with some kind of animal printed on them. Also, a halter top in some alien shade of green. She seems utterly pleased with herself.

I do believe I'm in love all over again.

Now I will play a violent game which involves shooting people in the face repeatedly to make them die screaming.

Help!

2006-01-04T19:01:00.000+08:00

will give sexual favours for internet access.

Help a brother out, why don't you?

tenebrae?

2005-11-30T13:15:00.000+08:00

Dang, I love me some animated Hellboy.

I also love me some comic Hellboy figures

Christmas is coming soon. Coff.

And now, shower time.

googly moogly

2005-11-26T19:21:00.000+08:00

As it goes, everytime I come back to Kuching, my little patch of the interweb (courtesy of Al Gore) gets neglected like a wrinkly whore's vagina.

But things I have been doing since I have gotten back:

1) Seen The Lady. This makes me happy and smushy inside on account of she makes me happy and we laze around a lot. Also, she is really good with the directions when I am driving. Because I am frankly piss at the whole 'getting around town' business.

2) Watched Harry Potter and the Whinging Brit Kids. Was not as a good as I'd hoped but not as bad as I feared. There was a dragon and that dude with the eye and that other dude with no nose. All fun for the kiddies. Harry Potter is still a whining little shit and his red headed friend keeps looking worse as the series wanders along it's inconsistent track.

3) Seen the Sexbomb and the Furry who have come back from New Zealand. It is good to see them again on account of they are my friends. Both are very sarcastic and horny as ever. Hornier, in fact. Now that they've acquired sources of regular sex that are back in Sheepsville waiting for them. Fun for all. Yaaaay.

And now fuck you all because Miss Vanessa has decided not to blog anymore.

I going to make a shit now.

>fart!<

2005-11-11T21:43:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, I was berated for "being too understanding" and was told to stop it.

It was a new experience.

And then today, I went to the One Utama with a friend. I rushed to the toilet and made a poo. I squeezed so hard that my ears got blocked.

This was also a new experience.

My ears are still blocked. The poo was at about 2.15 in the afternoon.

In other news, this is the coolest damned kiddy-put-a-coin-in-to-ride thing:

omgwtfbbq?!?

2005-11-08T20:46:00.000+08:00

I'm back in Cyberjaya again. Everything moves slower.

But this post is not to whine about the lack of sentient life in my surroundings. Oh noooo. It's about something else all together.

Being in Cyberjaya and having no car means that I have to do my grocery shopping at Alamanda. At the big BIG chain supermarket there.

Now, this in itself is no biggie. I've never minded public transport. Having an iPod and a book pretty much makes me invincible to all the cliche annoyances on a bus/train.

But this big supermarket chain thing there has the most annoying security ritual ever. I don't mind leaving my bags at the counter or submitting to a search when I get out of a place. But the buggers here insist on making you hand over your stuff to be sealed in thin plastic bags. Granted this might seem to be a reasonable way prevent theft.

But bugger me backwards if it isn't the most BLOODY HINDERING AWKWARD SECURITY MEASURE EVER.

These sealed baggies that they back to you have no handles. Or grips. Or whatever you call them. So you carry your stuff around gripped tightly like bloody rubbish bags. Fine you can put them in the basket or the push-trolley-cart-whatever-the-fuck-you-call-it thing. But I once went in there with a bag (with handles) of KFC to quickly get a bottle of last minute ketchup. ONE BOTTLE OF KETCHUP. And they made me seal my FOOD in the baggies. Along with my book. And the stack of artwork I had in a file. ALL IN ONE BAG. SO NOW TERRY PRATCHETT SMELLS LIKE THE COLONEL'S DAMNED CHICKEN. Not to mention the artwork. And the proccess took a whole 10 minutes because of my next point about the damned baggies.

They are made of that really thin, floaty plastic. You know the kind. Really cheap and hard to manage. Floating all over the place. The poor bugger behind the sealing machine was wrestling with the stuff like was going to fuck him hard the wrong way. I mean, it was a life and death thing. Crocodile Dundee has nothing, NOTHING, on the poor plastic security sealing baggy dude. Bud Lite salutes you, wrestler of plastic baggies.

It took me all of 30 seconds to run in, get the ketchup and pay at the empty express counter.

Stupid fucking baggies stealing minutes of my life away. I'm a design student dammit. I have procrastinating to do.

ps: Terry Pratchett's "Thud!" is fun.

pps: Everyone give me money so I can buy a ferret at the pet store dammit.

her hump

2005-10-31T20:28:00.000+08:00

I'm sure the whole bunch of you have heard the latest wretched single from the Black Eyed Peas.

Does anyone else feel like it's a song being sung by a lady with a hunchback and a collection of disfiguring warts all over her body. And she's wearing a skimpy top and a mini skirt and she's rubbing herself against grimacing men in a club.

Her lovely lady lumps indeed.

La Jeune mariée De Cadavre

2005-10-29T14:27:00.000+08:00

So, like, I got to watch The Corpse Bride last night with The Lady.

I was sorely disappointed at the fact that there was no badly translated Malay subtitle for the movie's...er...title.

I mean, I was expecting something like "Si Perempuan Mahu Kahwin Yang Sudah Mati" or something like that. That would have been cool.

But nit-picky, waste-of-time comments aside, the movie was fucking BEAUTIFUL. Everything was textured and layered like a motherfucker with pretty glowy bits and butterflies and swirlies. The human figures were wonderfully stylistic.

And the MUSIC. OMG. I want the soundtrack to this movie. But only if it has the two piano pieces.

Shame about the story. 'Twas badly paced and and lacked, as The Lady put it, focus.

Lovely movie. Must buy the DVD for the pretty pictures.

grumble

2005-10-28T03:20:00.000+08:00

I want a great big fucking bottle of Hershey's Chocolate Syrup, a glass of cold milk and a cuddle from her right now.

I feel like SUCH a woman.

But I have needs, damnit.

yay!

2005-10-24T17:48:00.000+08:00

So, like, I 'm in Kuching and shit.

Which is fun, because the lady who calls me her darling is here.

Now, I adore her, make no mistake about that.

But today, I might have very well fractured my ring finger courtesy of the car door when I went to meet her for lunch. Now, upon informing her of this faux pas, the lady who calls me her darling proceeds to not only NOT give sympathy and lovin' as required by the Relationship Clause, subsection 42.5b which clearly states that, well, I'm owed some pampering, she decides to laugh at me in my suffering and pain.

Which is fine, because she makes up for it with kisses and stuff.

But then, I go home and tell my mother about it. The woman who gave birth to me, she decides to laugh at me too.

Sometimes a man just can't get no love, I tells ya.

hari ini dalam sejarah

2005-10-16T20:29:00.000+08:00

I got out of bed this morning to the sounds of my housemates arguing. Which is pretty much par for the course because the both of them are locked in this really twisted relationship.

I got out of the room to see the lady housemate crying and I asked her what had transpired between the two to produce such a tragic outcome. A lady crying is one of the few things in this world that really gets to me. The other thing is penguins. Especially when they get on their bellies and slide around.

But anyhoo, the reason for the outburst of unhappiness from her direction would be this: Apparently, the gentleman housemate (the definition of their current relationship remains nebulous) had accused me and the Lady of having an affair behind his back.

AN AFFAIR.

My flabber was ghasted.

If there were anytime in history where a dramatic rise from the couch followed by a hearty "What the fuck?!?" was ever justified, that moment would have been it.

Things to note:

1) I have a girlfriend, whom I love and adore to bits. I've gushed about her in front of them, in a manly fashion, of course. She has visited before. He has seen her. He has seen how much I love her (Hello, Baby!)

2) The two had had an epic argument a while back, which resulted in people jumping on top of other people's windshields and those people trying to drive away to a Malacca with the former people still attached to the said windshields.

I was not involved and I didn't wish to be, but I was asked played referee for the sake of harmony and I had convinced her to calm down and give him another chance to prove himself. Then after she went to her bedroom to sleep, I spent the night talking to him, telling him how to make it up to her. Advice that he agreed to and never followed. But, it isn't my life, so whatever.

My point is this: I TRIED TO HELP THEM KEEP THEIR RELATIONSHIP TOGETHER.

3) Since then I've made an effort to stay out of their way so they could solve their problems without having to put up with the dude from Sarawak with the really small eyes intruding.

AND AFTER ALL THIS HE ACCUSES ME OF HAVING AND AFFAIR WITH THE LADY!!!

FOR NO COHERENT REASON!!!!

If it wasn't he wasn't such a tragic figure of a man, I'd be laughing. A true male chauvinist, his idea of "respect" to a lady is to order her around in front of visitors.

Actually I think I'll laugh anyway.

Irrational bouts of insecurity are so entertaining. ENTERTAINING TO THE EXTREME!!!!!!!!

OMG, I typed "to the Extreme". That is, like, SO nineties.

BLARGH

2005-10-14T04:01:00.000+08:00

I can't sleep.

You know why? BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL BASTARDS.

That's right. Especially you over there with the smug-ass grin on your face with your Burberry shirt and your Calvin Klein scent.

Good Lord, the scent. When was the last time you didn't smell like potpourri, you pansy-assed nancy-boy.

Aaargh. I'm too short for this shit.

Now give me all your money, you cock-monger. And be snappy about it.

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman is brilliant.

Kahani is my new hero for selling it to me. I haven't paid her yet. But I WILL!

The Keem was here for the weekend. She brought books and food. And then she brought me SUNDROP!

Sundrop is this drink that I can't seem to find in KL. It is freely available in Kuching, however. AND SHE BROUGHT ME FIVE CANS!!!

Me love you long time, Keemkeem. We will visit Wang Utama(tee hee hee) next time you are around.

Also, she bought me cookies. Muahahaha! I HAVE COOKIES!

COOKIES AND SUNDROP! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU ALL SUCK BECAUSE I HAVE COOKIES AND SUNDROP!

Please, in the name of all that is beautiful in the world, let me fall asleep now.

god damnit

2005-10-05T20:24:00.000+08:00

You know what is one of the most fucked up situations you can get yourself into?

You run into the toilet for an emergency deposit that's been waiting for a while. You get on the can and do the transaction and when you're done, the feeling of relief is palpable. So overwhelming that it's almost, but not quite, like an orgasm.

Then you reach over to the left for wipes and the god damned fucking thing is fucking out and you're sitting on the fucking can with your fucking ass covered in fucking shit water because of the splash-back and fuck me if no one is outside.

You say, "But Fishballs, you studly stud of studliness, why not go outside and get the wipes?"

Good lord, do you fucking know how it feels like to have shitty butt cheeks rub together? Take two slices of ham, slap some peanut butter on'em (chunky if you haven't been drinking water) and rub them together. That's how it feels. EXCEPT IT'S HAPPENING TO YOUR BUTTCHEEKS. And you can feel every damned squishy molecule rub together like it's a fucking party in your ass crack.

Thank the creator for shower heads, I tell you. And copious amounts of soap. And therapists.

happiness

2005-09-29T15:22:00.000+08:00

What is it?

I say it's getting a call at 7.45 in the morning from someone who wants to say that they love you.

Tingles and glee, I tell you.

It is NOT however, getting hit in the head by the stick thing that goes up and down at the guardhouse.

Y'know, the thing that lets people go in and out of the apartment compound.

I am assured that this is called a gantry. Whatever it is, that motherfucker will make you bleed like a stuck pig.

Stupid guard.

hehe, i will hold this over her head forever.

2005-09-27T15:05:00.000+08:00

Apparently, this girl I know, she does a lot of things

But the one thing that she doesn't do, is she doesn't smelly.

That's right. She doesn't SMELLY.

The telephone conversation went thus:

Fishballs: Go take a shower, my dear. I can smell you from here.

Lady in question (in a bleary, sleepy voice): I object, I don't smelly.

Fishballs: Bwahahaha! OMG.

Lady in question: Buh?

I am so romantic, I tell you.

Haiku to curry.

2005-09-26T07:25:00.000+08:00

Red, yellow, tasty
flavours swirl around the mouth
curry makes farts burn

thank you, thank you very much. My pain is my art.

meme-licious, v2.0

2005-09-23T19:18:00.000+08:00

Once again, from that lady with the shiny hair:

Seven things I plan to do before I die:
[x] Bungee jump without my clothes on. Seriously. It would be such a rush.
[x] Publish the children's book that I've been working on for the past 2 years. Procrastination is a terrible thing.
[x] Live in Paris.
[x] Live in New York.
[x] Ditto for Tokyo
[x] Buy my Mum a Mercedes
[x] Build my Dad's dream house for him.

Seven things I could do:
[x] Go back to Kuching.
[x] Be less of a bastard. This one is going to be hard.
[x] Eat more vegetables.
[x] Draw more often.
[x] Paint more often.
[x] Clean my room. It's not as bad as it was yesterday. You can see the floor.
[x] Cut my toenails.

Seven celebrity crushes:
[x] Milla Jovovich
[x] Colin Farrell
[x] Rebecca Romijn
[x] Tori Amos
[x] Fiona Apple
[x] PJ Harvey
[x] Michelle Rodriguez

Seven often repeated words:
[x] Damnit
[x] Holy crap!
[x] Jesus H Christ on a (insert random inanimate object. Animals or plants also work)
[x] Oh Crapstain.
[x] LOVEly
[x] REALLy?
[x] Eat crap and die, motherfucker!

Seven physical traits I look for in the opposite sex:
[x] Gaze
[x] Lips
[x] Neck
[x] Shoulders(how she places them)
[x] Hands
[x] Butt. To see if it is sticking out or not (tee hee hee. Wink to the one who gets it)
[x] uh...I dunno...boobs, I guess. No size preference. As long as they are not fake. Fake ones are...creepy.

Seven things I do to make myself happy:
[x] Draw
[x] Read
[x] Sleep. Being sad is exhausting.
[x] Cook. Concentrating on not giving myself diarrhoea is a brilliant distraction.
[x] Watch really bad movies from the seventies and eighties. Especially those badly dubbed Chinese ones
[x] Take a shower.
[x] Uh... I dunno. Kill mosquitoes or some shit.

I tag...uh...some other people. And stuff. If you read this and you haven't done it, consider yourself Tag-gified. By me. Heh, you were tagged by Fishballs. Hehehe. snort.

tolerance

2005-09-22T08:39:00.000+08:00

Heh, damned stupid thing to be pushing in Moral Studies class for the kiddies, I think.

I mean, think about it, they're being taught to "tolerate" people who's faiths, race and other bit's and pieces are different from their's. TOLERATE. As if the difference offends and irritates, but you bear it. Like a damned scab on your knee or a really bad t-shirt.

Wouldn't "acceptance" be better?

tee hee hee

2005-09-21T15:51:00.000+08:00

I got groceries.

Bwahahaha! The world can no longer hurt me because of my groceries, for they are the groceries of invincibility! (+2 to all resistances).

Damnit, my geek is showing,

I need to get a fucking life.

I love you all, taxi people. Sniff. You make me cry with mirth and glee when you pull stupid shit like try to charge me $15 for a 5 minute taxi ride. Yes, I'm from Sarawak. And yes, I probably DID ride a crocodile to school back home. But then, that doesn't mean that you can charge me $15 for a taxi ride. You cockmongering cuntmothers ("cuntmother" used here courtesy of Miss Lainie).

Actually, I'd pay $15 to ride a crocodile to school. And maybe I could superglue that Mercedes Benz thingy on its nose and shit. Then it would be, like, totally bling and it'll be, like, all cool and shit.

meme-licious

2005-09-15T07:56:00.000+08:00

I got this from the Keem. In regards to 5 weird habits that The Fishballs (note the capitals) has:

#1 The Fishballs, he likes to sleep in the nude.
This in itself is not that weird or strange. It's just that I constantly forget to lock the door, resulting in a lot of "Oh, dear Lord! My eyes!" moments. I think I wrote about it somewhere below

#2 The Fishballs has a weakness for Transformers.
There's something appealing about plastic things changing into other plastic things. I might have a deep seated problem here.

#3 He reads while he eats, The Fishballs does.
I can't help it. It's bad but, oh, so good. Someone save me

#4 The Fishballs falls down a lot
It's true. I can't help it. I blame society, rap music, and violent video games. That Mario, always with the killing and the maiming.

#5 The Fishballs snores sometimes
Apparently I do. I have yet to receive proof of this, but then some people would say anything to get me into bed.

And there you have it. Now I will go take a shower because I smell like a dead raccoon. Which does NOT smell like flowers.

PS. I tag anyone who comes across this because I am a lazy bugger. But handsome. Some things just can't be helped, I'm afraid.

CSI

2005-09-11T22:20:00.000+08:00

Hey, you know how they say that every gun etches the bullets it fires with a unique pattern?

So that, like, using science or something, the police people can find out which gun a particular bullet is fired from.

Sooo, would we be able to use the same technique to find out which butt a specific turd plopped out from?

knn ccb mch

2005-09-05T04:58:00.000+08:00

Another day has passed as the fucking sun takes his fucking time to crawl on his fucking hands and fucking knees across the fucking sky. This idea of the sun taking his time to smell the fucking roses instead of doing his job of making one day come after the other, I am not liking so much.

You see, there are certain people (see: person, as if it isn't obvious enough) that I would like very much to see again. Because well, I miss them. And they know who they are. And by now, probably everyone knows as well. But you see, I am not caring so much about the people that I am not caring about. So all of you can have a spoon, and eat my ass. WITH KETCHUP.

How? How the fuck would you get rid of this stinking frustration that things are the way they are? That with just a weeeee bit of change, it'll be perfect.

Silly little distractions only carry you so far. And last for only so long, before you're left with a small fucking moment of solitude when crapstain! The ache comes rushing back.

I know I'm not sounding very coherent. Much less making much sense. But that is how it is right now.

Doesn't help that I'm living in Cyberjaya. The place where everything goes to fade away and die. Slowly. Because, y'know, there're SO many things to do here.

wooOooOoooooooo

2005-08-28T06:16:00.000+08:00

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.

i am the champion!!!

2005-08-25T22:50:00.000+08:00

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

2005-08-25T15:58:00.000+08:00

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?

quote of the day

2005-08-23T03:20:00.000+08:00

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.

armpit

2005-08-22T23:02:00.000+08:00

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

I am an idiot.

I go eat chocolate now.

uh

2005-08-21T02:47:00.000+08:00

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.

Buggerration

2005-08-19T21:17:00.000+08:00

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.

this is your brain! your brain on pain!

2005-08-18T09:49:00.000+08:00

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.

Glee!

2005-08-17T13:57:00.000+08:00

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!

place holder blog entry number 1

2005-08-16T13:53:00.000+08:00

Bitch bitch bitch bitch.

Whine whine. Cry cry

Attitude attitude. Drama drama

Whine whine

Bitch about different thing.

Bitch

Lame remark to appear clever.

Dear Ladies, part cinq

2005-08-10T03:35:00.000+08:00

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.

moskibang

2005-08-09T00:30:00.000+08:00

It's my new favourite word.

Right after "cuntmother"

All the cool kids say it.

floppy grandmother vagina lips

2005-08-08T06:49:00.000+08:00

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.

This is a public service announcement:

2005-08-06T13:21:00.000+08:00

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.

MY EYES!

2005-08-04T13:30:00.000+08:00

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.

intertron 3000

2005-08-03T19:53:00.000+08:00

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!

Misery

2005-07-29T00:02:00.000+08:00

You know, that really creepy movie with that lady who kidnapped that guy and did stuff to him in a creepy way.

So, like, my first few days in Kuala Lumpur have been pretty uninteresting, aside from an embarassing sms faux pas which kept me up well into the night. Thank Jeebus for understanding friends.

I have no Internet connection, this is a friend's computer. I visited the college and I'm beginning to suspect that Miss Lainie was right about the lecturers. Either that, or I was talking to the janitor. Self sufficiency it is, I guess.

Cyberjaya is the most fucking despondent place in the world. My flatmates are potheads. Which is hilarious. There are five cats staring at me right now. No, I didn't smoke any of their stuff.

I'm going to my room to read. Because I'm a social butterfly who's got a tremendous ammount of sex appeal.

Your mother told me that she liked it doggy-style.

the pain the in the brain like the hole in the soul

2005-07-26T11:12:00.000+08:00

Dear Penguin,

HOW COULD YOU?!?!?!

OH THE PAIN, THE PAIN.

YOU HAD CONVERSATIONS WITH HIM!!!

*twitch*

I...I need to lie down.

Brain shutting down from the horror. Oh, the horror.

YOU LURVED HIM!

Argh Argh Argh.

OMG COOTIES!!!

Love, hugs and kisses
Fishballs

PS: Argh!

conversations with a dangerous mind

2005-07-24T22:38:00.000+08:00

Here is a piece of a conversation that I had with the ever-sparkly Miss Kim today. You will note that SHE started it first, not me (minor edits for coherence)

:: kim :: says:
Hrmmmm.

:: kim :: says:
I wonder

:: kim :: says:
If anyone has made, like

:: kim :: says:
Er

lechez ce poisson says:
Er?

:: kim :: says:
Glove thingies for guy balls

:: kim :: says:
Don't they get cold in the winter?

:: kim :: says:
It'd be ever so cute

:: kim :: says:
LOL

lechez ce poisson says: (10:54:31 PM)
OMG

:: kim :: says:
Did I break your brain?

lechez ce poisson says:
Little woollen ones

:: kim :: says:
Yes yes

lechez ce poisson says:
With bobbles on them

lechez ce poisson says:
Striped

:: kim :: says:
Hmm

lechez ce poisson says:
I'm blogging this

:: kim :: says:
Those would be a tad inconvenient no

:: kim :: says:
Ahahhhaha

:: kim :: says:
Polka dotted ones make ur balls look like they got measles

:: kim :: says:
Hrm

lechez ce poisson says:
Tastefully coloured

:: kim :: says:
I wonder if balls get it too when you get measles

lechez ce poisson says:
Like, red and green for christmas

:: kim :: says:
Uhhuh

:: kim :: says:
Aquamarine and white if you're a water person

lechez ce poisson says:
Actually, I got a chicken pock thing on my ballsack

:: kim :: says:
Ew

lechez ce poisson says:
When I had the chicken pox

:: kim :: says:
I didnt need to know that

lechez ce poisson says:
It was itchy as

See the totally smooth way the subject changes from woolly testicle sleeves to diseased ball-sacks? More evidence for my singledom. I really should take a class in shutting up while I'm ahead.

(mental note: testicle talk does NOT get you chicks)

hot stuff

2005-07-24T19:24:00.000+08:00

D'you know, I think I might be sexier today than I was yesterday?

'Tis true.

Just thought that I'd tell you, because, y'know, sharing is caring.

P.O.V.

2005-07-22T16:21:00.000+08:00

You know, I could be wrong, so correct me if I am, but now that I'm here, I think Kuala Lumpur might be a wee bit bigger than Kuching.

But only a wee bit because we musn't get ahead of ourselves. Stiff upper lip and what not. Pip pip.

a-buuuuuuuuh

2005-07-22T03:19:00.000+08:00

I got an unexpected gift today.

The sort of gift that takes away ALL your vocabulary for a good few minutes.

I sat there in a complete stunned stupor when I realised what it was I was listening to.

And then I blubbered like the pussy that I knew myself to be.

Thanks so much, Kim. You'll probably have no idea how much this means to me.

Well, you're clever, so you might.

But having someone make a gift of something this thoughtful makes leaving just a little bit easier to bear.

And because I am a complex, sensitive and unusually handsome guy, that much harder as well.

Jokes aside, thanks again, beautiful.

Harry Potter Spoiler below:

2005-07-21T11:00:00.000+08:00

TONKS LIKES IT DOGGY STYLE.

That is all, carry on.

dangit! the 'chucks got pa! git that thar shotgun!

2005-07-21T02:26:00.000+08:00

Small dinner with friends yay!

Kim molested my pillow, it now smells like her.

I'm assured that this is a choc vanilla scent. My pillow smells like cake, as opposed to its usual Eau de Fishballs.

This is an improvement.

Ivy drives a big car. Really fast.

I leave for KL in two days. I am not even close to being ready for another move.

Fuck.

woodchucks in the yard! save grandma!

2005-07-20T00:08:00.000+08:00

It amazes me how some people can remain at the epicentre of a swirling firestorm of drama of others without being consumed in the muttonheaded supidity of it all. And you know what? They still have the capacity to care. Amazing.

I wasn't able to do it.

I have just heard the saddest damned song ever.

Insomnia is a whore with a floppy vagina. Watch how she wails away as she grinds herself all over you, ignoring the horrified look of disgust on your face.

I got a new toothbrush. Woohoo!

sometimes when we touch

2005-07-19T18:28:00.000+08:00

Kim.

I've known you for about a week and we've been hanging out quite a bit, which has been more fun than stuffing ferrets into bottles.

But after lunch today, something flickered inside me. Something that I thought had died out long ago.

Words alien to the mouth from a long dormancy arose in my throat, nearly forcing their way out. But I said none of them because I treasure what we share.

But it eats at me. Consuming pieces at an alarming rate, washing away swathes of self-control and vast tracts of tact.

I'm left with no choice but to say these words, before they take me completely.

Call me callous and rage at my inability to express myself with the articulation and thought befitting a lady of your brilliance, but I hope you will deign to honour me by reading these words and at least consider them:

Penis fencing.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Jesus Christ in a parachute, I've been cracking up about it the entire afternoon.

Sweet dreams tonight. Tee hee hee!

bibidy bobidy boo

2005-07-19T04:44:00.000+08:00

4.44 a.m in the morning and I have just finished the latest Harry Potter, courtesy of Miss Keem, she of the sparkly eyes and slidy specs.

Here's my review because I'm smarter than your mother:

If this book were a guy, it'll be a complete asshole standing around and looking at you with a shit-eating grin. You know, the kind of bastard grin that bastardly bastards get when they know something you don't. And they tell you just enough to get you hot and bothered. Bastards.

Bargh.

nougat in the chocolate, poetry in the soul

2005-07-18T04:28:00.000+08:00

It's half-past-four in the bloody morning and I can't sleep. I'd dearly love to, but when Mr Sandman is cheating on your sorry ass, that's what happens.

Welcome to Insomnia, where even masturbation don't work right.

I've been severely disappointed by someone with whom I've been on generally friendly terms. I've known him forever, but he's always been a sort of benign presence in my life. Sort of in the background. Y'know, the sort of person with whom you share a "Hey, bitch. How're you doing?" and a drink from time to time. I've always thought of him as basically a decent guy. Others with whom I am closer have had a burning dislike for this individual, assuring me that he is a bastard of the highest degree and an asshole of epic aroma. My basic reaction has always been "Meh, he's never done anything to me. He's ok."

Well, in a few nights, he's proven to be a complete cunt-rag. Bargh. I won't go into the details, but his attitude and the way he treats people are just unspeakable. The supreme lack of tact and that remarkably large amount of inappropriate (see distasteful) comments made to strangers about yours truly just added that little extra piquancy to the flavour of the bile. I tried explaining it to myself by labeling it a combination of slips of the tongue and severe immaturity. But his consistent assholation (assholicity?) is really beating that argument down.

Compound all that with the fact that he makes some people that I actually like uncomfortable and, well, I am possibly faced with the most socially repulsive person I have ever known.

This bothers me more than I'd admit it. I guess it's got to do with that horrible feeling you get when you realise that you've been wrong about someone.

Bah, what a let down. One more for the dip-shit list, then.

Haiku for the disgruntled heart:

You are an asshole
Do you see this finger here?
Special just for you.

I am so fucking talented. Feel that emotion sear itself on your soul. I make Mother Goose cry.

once upon a midnight eerie

2005-07-17T21:41:00.000+08:00

The Mermaid just left my house. It was an interesting visit.

She had driven me home.

Being the gentleman that I was, I invited her in.

She smiled and said yes.

We walked to my room together. I could smell her scent.

We sat down.

I offered her a drink, but she didn't want one. Her eyebrow arched and her nostrils flared.

It was obvious that she wasn't here for drinks.

She looked at me and reached over.

And arranged my books.

In rows.

By author, series and publisher.

Pratchett in front, Rankin at the back, stuff that didn't fit around the top.

And then she said that "they looked happier" like that, all "snug and stuff"

Oy vey. What a woman.

good golly, miss molly

2005-07-16T10:02:00.000+08:00

First things first: This lady has the most animated face I have ever had the pleasure of coming in contact with. It's the coolest damned thing I have ever seen.

I'm utterly in thrall with her. But I'm not the only one, ho ho ho.

It was a rather fun night. Picked up the aforementioned lady and went for a coffee at that place where they have coffee. And we talked bad about other people for about hour before the penguin deigned to join us. Miss Keem was molesting an unhygienic pillow. Several inappropriate stories later, Miss Ivy and Mr Chung Siang joined us. Physical abuse from the dugong lady proceeded to happen. But I am told it comes from a place of affection so I suppose it's ok. No one ever died from some tough lovin'.

She SO wants me, I can tell. It's the boobs. Tee hee hee.

The festivities continued at the place with the alcohol and the groping, but not before Mr Nick and Mr Tak joined us for a wee bit.

I traumatised two manly men in the group by being offensively bisexual.

And as the night proceeded with it's irreverent tone towards everything respectful, I was informed that allegedly this dude asked this lady if I was a girl. Lovely. Just utterly fucktacular, I tell you.

So, we went to eat that that place that had food and then I drove Mr Tak and then Miss Dugong back. Miss Dugong forgot her keys and might have had to spend the night in her dad's car if it wasn't for her brother and his rebellious gaming streak.

I was right worried, I was. My mummy taught me not to leave wee little ladies sleeping in cars.

And then I got lost. That bit of town is a maze. And there were these houses with Roman columns and shit. Ye gods.

I got home at 3 am. Read till 6. Then slept. Then at nine, Mr Chung Siang called. 3 hours of sleep in 2 days. Whee.

Mr Caffeine is my new best friend.

PS: I saw 9 metrosexuals last night.

NINE.

IN KUCHING.

This makes me despondent.

Metrosexuals are the devil.

los cuatro fantásticos

2005-07-15T02:00:00.000+08:00

Soooo, I just came back from the movie.

'Twas a very blah experience.

Damned shame, really. The comics are fun.

Jessica Alba, however lovely she looks in skin-tight spandex, was horribly mis-casted.

The rock guy was kinda rubbery and the rubbery guy was kind of a wuss, not in the you-feel-sorry-and-root-for-him way, but more in that you-want-someone-to-kick-him-in-the-fork way

The flamey guy had the best lines, but he was pretty much a prat. I swear he could pass as one of the Backstreet Boys.

Pretty sparkles are pretty.

Julian McMahon is an asshat.

Drinky-poos with the illustrious Miss Keem as well as that penguin with the perverted psyche are a distinct possibility tomorrow (well, later on, technically)

I'd be lying if I said my pants weren't ecstatic.

Dear Ladies, part quatre

2005-07-14T02:36:00.000+08:00

YOU ARE NOT AS FAT AS YOU THINK YOU ARE.

Love, hugs and kisses,
Fishballs

PS: That top brings out the colouration of your skin something wicked.

PPS: No it does not make you look fat.

PPPS: I'm not going shopping with you anymore.

achtung! der Fisch kommt!

2005-07-13T12:10:00.000+08:00

So a bunch of us went out for dinner last night at this place called "Jambu" Lovely ambience, above average food. Frightfully expensive. Then we went to Bing for dessert. There was a lovely waitress there who kept asking if everything was alright. I think she liked my boobs.

I told a few of my naughty stories, but I think they might have traumatised a couple of the ladies at the table.

Last night while reading, in a searing bolt of inspiration, I got two fantastic ideas. Ok, bear with me:

First, I'll open a restaurant run by exclusively by attractive ladies of vague-ish sexual orientation. And I'll call it "Eating Out"
hur hur hur. geddit? Eating out?

Then, I'll open a confectionary right next to it, run by attractive gentlemen of similarly vague-ish sexual orientation. And I'll call it "Fudgepackers" geddit? Fudgepackers?

hohoho, i am a funny one, i tell you.

I'm so sorry. I apologise for the overwhelming amount of cheese.

Anyhoo, this was another MSN conversation that occured between Sexbomb and me the other night. I think I traumatised her as well. I do that a lot. "Lechez ce poisson" being me in this case.

lechez ce poisson:
hey, guess what i just saw?

Sexbomb:
   what??

lechez ce poisson:
   a friend just sent me an email with a link to a video of a woman squeezing out live eels via her vagina

lechez ce poisson:
   colour me traumatised

Sexbomb:
   ewwwww i did not need to know that!!!!!!

lechez ce poisson:
   yeah

lechez ce poisson:
   apparently, someone put, like, 2 or 3 in there and she squeezed them out one by one into a basin and they were still swimming around

Sexbomb:
   EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

lechez ce poisson:
   didn't you eat eel the last time you were here at that japanese restaurant?

Sexbomb:
   oh shudup!!!

lechez ce poisson:
   probably cost so much because they were fresh from the vagina

Sexbomb:
   EW YOU ASS!!!!!!!

lechez ce poisson:
   was there a musky smell and taste?

Sexbomb:
   fuck u man!!!

You know, if nothing else, this blog has been a revelatory experience. Especially in terms of why I am still single. I should probably stop traumatising people.

monkeys have it all figured out

2005-07-10T15:06:00.000+08:00

I have shaken the hand of celebrity. Last night, at that place that people go to drink and get drunk and grope each other, I had the distinct honour of meeting Miss Kimberly, she of the dugong-ian persuasion. A fascinating lady with sparkly eyes and pretty hair.

Being the suave lady-killer that I am, I offered my moobs (see: man-boobs, pecs, fun bags) for her groping pleasure for 20 cents. It is to her credit that she managed a quick and clever come back. Must meet up with her again. Yay!

"My goodness, why so cheap?" shocked ladies may ask. It's just good business sense. You let them have it cheap. And when they're hooked, you jack up the price. I knew that Economics class would come in handy eventually.

Everything written before this line probably explains why I've been single. Ho ho Ho. sniff.

Anyhoo, a good time was had by all. A very drunk Mr Arthur smooched me and another really drunk Mr Albert tried to grope Mr Nick in the happy bits. My poor friend Miss Jenny felt so out of place at the bar. Poor lady. Methinks we shouldn't have taken her there directly. Miss Ivy was little despondent. But she cheered up considerably later because, well, gratuitous amounts of alcohol will do that.

Caffeine must now be had because drawings need to be done.

My pants are happy. Yay!

(mental note: Sprite tastes absolutely vile right after mouthwash. It's like something small, furry and rancid decided to have a night of drunken debauchery in your mouth. With cockroaches. Compressed into a 10-second time period.)

beer!

2005-07-09T18:48:00.000+08:00

I remember when drinking was a lot more fun.

It is not as fun as it used to be. This worries me somewhat.

And makes me sad in my pants.

fuck

2005-07-07T21:50:00.000+08:00

Some degenerates blew up bits of the London Underground.

I have friends who live there.

Fuck.

Edit: They're ok. Overwhelming amounts of relief are now occurring.

literary endeavours

2005-07-07T09:47:00.000+08:00

Everyone who knows me well enough knows that I devour books. Two to three books a day is the norm. Sometimes consecutively, sometimes concurrently. Comics as well. I have a shitload of books at home. Almost all the Terry Pratchett ones, Robert Rankin (he's like Terry Pratchett after a few magic mushrooms) by the buttload. All the Frank Herbert Dune books. The Da Vinci code (fascinating read. Crap story, great background stuff), Neil Gaiman's 1602, the Grant Morrison run on the X-men. Hellboy . Kingdom Come (hur hur hur...come). And heaps more. Most of this, as you can probably see, is geek stuff. Because, well, I'm a geek. Don't tell anyone. It's my dirty litte secret shame.

Anyhoo, here's the point: The book stores here depress me. I go there, as often as I can. And each and everytime, I'm disappointed. There's no new stuff. EVER. Sure, they have the Star Wars novelisations, but Star Wars has never been the epitome of good writing. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a delusional fanboy (tip for chasing Star Wars fanboys away: Midichlorians). Jeffrey Archer and John Grisham make me sick.

The ones in KL are way better. But their selections are still a bit hampered. Censorship or something, I gather. The one in that place, what was it called? The Megamall? Yeah, and I asked the lovely lady there where the Robert Rankin books were and she lead me to a shelf with Ian Rankin's stuff. She seemed awfully proud of herself so I smiled and said "Thank you."

Philip K. Dick (hur hur hur..dick) is nigh impossible to find. Ditto with Isaac Asimov and that Murakami dude.

I'll be moving to KL to live for three years on the 22nd of this month. If there's someone out there, who's reading this and lives in KL, could you, like, leave a few pointers on where I might find a nice comic book specialty store, a book store with a lovely selection of books and an art supply store? Preferably near Cyberjaya. I will love you long time.

dear Sexbomb, part zwei

2005-07-06T09:15:00.000+08:00

Tom Cruise is prat. A PRAT, I SAY!

And Brad Pitt is a pillock.

Muahaha!

Nibbles, licks and orgasms,
Fishballs

PS: ALso, this dude read my blog. The magic fingers of celebrity have fondled me again. I feel dirty. I LIKE IT.

Dear Ladies, part trois

2005-07-05T21:20:00.000+08:00

Most of you are smarter than you give yourselves credit for. So you probably know this already.

It's probably a good rule of thumb that the emotional depth of a prospective beau is directly proportional to the amount of time that passes between your first meeting and his hands trying to tweak your nipples.

If a man tries to grope you within the first 20 minutes of meeting you, HE MIGHT NOT BE THE ONE (Unless you want him to. In which case, I'm sure he's got a lovely personality to go along with the roving hands).

Telling him to stop it because "it's distracting" would probably not have the effect that you want.

Might I recommend a two-by-four to the balls or, if Madam prefers a more modern approach, a stun gun up the arse. Kitchen knives with suggestive slashing movements are also very popular this time of year. Of course, if Madam is a traditionalist, there is always the option of pepper spray, also known as capsicum spray in Australia. Hohoho, silly Australians and their funny English.

Love, hugs and kisses,
Fishballs

PS: I think the halter tops and summer dresses look lovely this season.

if i only had a brain

2005-07-05T10:20:00.000+08:00

I had this conversation on Messenger a while back. It broke my heart. Seriously, I felt so disappointed. You think you know someone, and they pull a bimbo on you.

I'm not going to make up a psuedonym because I'm too lazy right now. Blargh.

Girl: Hey, Fishballs, do you know the guy who won that Wimbledon thing the last time?

Fishballs: Yes, yes I do. He comes over on weekends and we have little tea parties with scones and eclairs. He sure likes them scones.

Girl: Stop it, I think he's cute. I just wanna find pictures online.

Fishballs: Who am I to stand in the way of true love, eh? I'm not sure, but I think his name is Federer.

Girl: Oh, he's taken.

Fishballs: How sad for you. I'd offer you a tissue, but I just took a big dump, and well, you see how it is.

Girl: Ewwww. Anyway, Isn't he the guy who married Britney Spears?

(Some time passes)

Girl: Hello? hello? are you still there?

Fishballs: Just give me a second. I think you broke my brain.

war of the worlds

2005-07-05T00:03:00.000+08:00

I just came back from the movie.

Tom Cruise is a prat.

Aliens passing pictures along to each other is funny.

Asswipes who don't turn off their phones during movies should have them jammed up their urinary tracts. WITHOUT ANY LUBE.

Also, rancid cows and their vapid boy-sluts who won't SHUT THE FUCK UP.

booty call

2005-07-04T13:56:00.000+08:00

My dad gets up pretty early in the morning to get to work. While everyone else is asleep, in fact.

He calls my mom throughout the day because they are, like, so totally hot for each other and stuff.

So, today he calls my mom while she's driving in the car to say something. She starts to laugh her ass off all the way to breakfast.

This is what he had to say:

"God damnit, tell him to put on his damned pants when he's sleeping. Nobody wants to see that."

free willy

2005-07-03T22:09:00.000+08:00

Y'know, it's a well known fact in this house that I like to sleep without my pants on.

You'd think by now people would learn to knock.

i have been touched by celebrity

2005-07-03T08:32:00.000+08:00

Two famous bloggers have read my blog.

The gentle, warming touch of celebrity has sent me running about the house, squealing like an orgasming pig (who, from what I read, can orgasm for 30 minutes. Pigs, I meant, not celebrities. Mmm...orgasm.)

Miss Lainie and Miss Vanessa,

You will make me very happy in my pants if you would do me the honour of allowing me to link you in my "shit i read" column.

shits and giggles,
Fishballs

Also, to the misbegotten wretch (see: bastard) who blocked my car yesterday, I hope you catch a withering, but non-lethal, venereal disease. One that involves some sort of crusty build up and warts. ON YOUR CROTCH. Open sores are also a favourite. With lots of pus. You whorebag.

this is a public service announcement

2005-07-02T09:08:00.000+08:00

To all straight males:

Blowjobs are not as fun for your lady companions as they are for you.

So why not return the favour once in a while?

Or stop insisting on them all the time.

Because this would save a lot of gagging and retching from those of us doomed to the steppes of platonic friendship with the obliging ladies.

We do not need to know about the details of how you like your balls nibbled.

This public service announcement was brought to you by the Ministry of God Damn, Woman, I Did NOT Need To Know That.

Dear Ladies, part deux

2005-07-02T07:55:00.000+08:00

You're all lovely creatures. There's nothing about you that doesn't send tingles up and down my spine.

But try not to go swimming while you're surfing the red tide.

Especially when it's a HEAVY red tide

I had to take 3 showers yesterday.

And I still don't feel clean.

Love, hugs and kisses,
Fishballs

PS: I think you're doing a lovely job with the boobies.

so, like, on tv last night

2005-07-01T15:36:00.000+08:00

They played THAT movie.

The one responsible for THAT song.

And the second bit is going to be on the tube TONIGHT.

Celine Dion and THAT song should be placed in an air tight (preferably sound proof) capsule, fed to a constipated female silverback gorilla (PMSing preferable), and launched, anally, into outer space.

And then do it again with that dude who played the dude who died in the last bit. Except with a rhesus monkey who's been intravenously fed with laxatives for a month. He really grates my mozarella. The dude, not the monkey.

But not the chick who didn't die, because she is ever so scrumptious on the eyes. But she should never try to sing again. Ever.

That is all. Carry on.

have you ever?

2005-07-01T07:35:00.000+08:00

Looked into the eyes of the one you love.

Sighed at the prospect of being allowed to be this close to someone like this

Then uttered the words that never fade away

"Woman, you've totally got eye wax dripping out of your left eye. I mean, seriously, look at that shit. The weight of that motherfucker is actually pulling at the corner of your eye. Are you saving it up for something? Jesus Christ in a polka dot shirt! Look at it! FUCK! IT MOVED! I SWEAR IT MOVED! FUCK! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME I JUST TOOK A SHOWER!"

I am a class A romantic all the way, I tell you.

i have a dream

2005-06-30T22:56:00.000+08:00

I was having problems sleeping one night, when I got the best idea to get ridiculously rich.

See, this is how it goes, I'll have 12 children, right?

And then I'll send six of them to the east coast of the USA and six of them to the west coast of the USA, where they will dominate the NBA (it's this basketball thing they have there, FYI) and face off in the Finals.

I'm sending six per coast because one of them has to be the substitute. I've thought of everything.

Anyhow, I will then proceed to bet a ridiculously large amount of money one half of my brood and tell them to win.

"Dude, like, Dad just called and said that you had to lose tonight."

"Fuck, we'd better be getting something nice for Christmas"

It's fool-proof, I tell you.

No way it can fail.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

best conversation ever

2005-06-30T08:54:00.000+08:00

I was doing some work on the computer when a friend came online. We'll call her Anne, because that is not her name.

Anne: Hey, Fish, if I ask you a stupid question, would you get mad at me?

Fishballs: Heavens to Sally, what could possibly lead you to believe that stupid questions annoy me? But for you, special indulgences apply, because you have D-cup breasts and green eyes.

Anne: Why do you have to say things like that?

Fishballs: Because you KNOW it turns you on. Ask away, then.

Anne: Ugh. Anyway here goes: What's your favourite colour?

Fishballs: Vagina.

Anne: What the hell does that have to do with anything?

Fishballs: You misunderstand me, vagina is my favourite colour.

Anne: WHAT THE FUCK? WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO MAKE ME REGRET ASKING YOU QUESTIONS?!?!

Fishballs: You ask these questions, you get the responses, you regret them. And yet, time and again, you comes back for more?

Anne: Why did I ever make friends with you?

Fishballs: Because you loved my Asian nipples so. You wanted to nibble them.

Anne: FUCK YOU!

Fishballs: You'd really want to, don't you? I can tell.

Things degenerated quickly after that.

But it should be fine, because I just got an email from her asking for photos from some time back

She so totally wants me.

Dear Ladies,

2005-06-30T07:58:00.001+08:00

Stop being attracted to assholes.

Love, hugs and kisses,
Fishballs

PS: Also applies to cunt-rags and dip-shits, please.

PPS: Also, metrosexuals, because them is the bane of all that is good in the world.

there's a secret

2005-06-29T15:32:00.000+08:00

I dare not tell anybody.

I've wanted to tell you so many times in the past, but I just didn't know.

I just didn't know If you could take it, if what we have would be ripped to shreds if you knew.

But I'll tell you now, because I now know that I trust and love you.

Oh, how it burns inside, threatening to break free, but it musn't. Not to anyone else.

Not for anyone else, but you.

And you must keep it well.

Keep it deep and treasure it. Let it be the token of my trust, love and affection.

Are you ready?

Can you make this commitment to me?

Can you take this step?

Here goes, then:

I think I might be sexy.

i couldn't give a rat's testicles

2005-06-29T11:55:00.000+08:00

I consider myself an honest person, so I'm just going to be blunt here, ok?

Our Messenger conversations in college were alright, I suppose. A little bit of entertainment for me, because, hey, what guy wouldn't want to explain the mechanics behind anal sex to an attractive lady?

But, now, things have changed, I wouldn't say it's you or me, because it's probably me and I'm a dick. But, really, I couldn't give a bucket of donkey's bollocks about the new guy who's trying to date you or your new Thai room mate who's really cute. And stop asking for gifts. And I don't give a retarded monkey's turd about what sort of undies you should wear to your date with the guy who's just SO fantastic. Having fake panic attacks because you don't dare to call him is no reason to wake me up at 3 in the morning. 3 IN THE FUCKING MORNING.

And you wonder why I've stopped talking to you?

Honestly, because it's like talking to a whiny-ass teenager. And it's getting old. Grow the fuck up, because I don't have time to handle your shit. Don't try to guilt-trip me because for that to work I'd have to actually like and/or care for you, and that stopped a LONG time ago. Our alleged "friendship" has been a constant stream of you asking me for shit and me stupidly giving it. Now, I'm saving it up for the people I actually give a shit about.

Basically, what I'm asking is: How about you leave me the fuck alone?

And please take your emotional rubbish with you, thank you very much.

Have a nice life. Far, far away from me.

poetry is a balm for the soul

2005-06-28T07:38:00.000+08:00

There was a vampire named Mable

Whose periods were remarkably stable.

Every full moon,

She'd take out a spoon

And drink herself under the table.

I love the Internet.

pain is my friend

2005-06-27T13:09:00.000+08:00

I yawned just now and the side of my mouth tore and started bleeding.

It hurts like six kinds of fuck. Which is saying something, because prior to this, I have only encountered four.

Motherfucking Jesus on toast with baked beans and fucking onions.

OWNED!

2005-06-27T06:00:00.000+08:00

So, like, sometimes I don't like sleeping with pants on. No undies either. Yes, my twig and giggle-berries are on display for all to see. Don't judge me until you try it yourself. It's like a whole new experience and shit.

Also, I don't lock the door when I sleep because, well, fuck you, it's my room. My mother doesn't knock before she comes in.

You can see where this is going

About 2 in the afternoon, I pull my pants off and sleep splayed out on the bed, face down.

About a half hour later, I hear a collection of sounds: the click of the door knob, the slight creak of the door opening, followed by "AIYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"

Door slams. "WHY AREN'T YOU WEARING PANTS? NOBODY WANTS TO SEE THAT!'

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

That's what you get for not knocking, woman!

A few days later I was reading in bed and I hear this conversation at my door

Mom: Why are you standing there?

Sis: I want to use the Internet (the Internet line goes up to my room.)

Mom: Then go in and use it.

Sis: (in a small voice) he might not be wearing pants

Mom: Oh yeah, that's right.

I laughed so hard my damn near shit my pants.

masochistic entertainment

2005-06-26T19:58:00.000+08:00

Reading SarongPartyGirl's comments board is like scratching a bleeding ass hole. You know it can't possibly be good for you, but you do it anyway because it itches like a motherfucker.

Ok, maybe not so much like scratching a bleeding ass hole.

Whee!

achtung!

2005-06-25T11:53:00.001+08:00

So, it has come to my attention that Miss Furry reads my blog. I did not know this.

Also, apparently, Miss Furry figured out who Miss Sexbomb is and has been teasing her.

Miss Sexbomb has asked me to write something that will give her leverage over Miss Furry

So here goes:

Why do I call Miss Furry by that particular pseudonym? Well, she came to visit me in Sydney and we had to share a bed because of a) I lived with creepy people from China and b) there was no space. Anyway, while she was there, she didn't shave her legs on account I don't know the fuck why.

Miss Furry is a very affectionate sleeper, which is fine by me. But her little leg stubbles stabbed me repeatedly. Sometimes, it was like a cheese grater.

There were other happenings of which I will not speak of. Also, I have photos of Miss Furry having her boobs groped by a mutual acquaintance who has a gay twin brother (hey! holler if you want the photos eh?)

Sorry, Furry. It had to be done. Miss Sexbomb is way taller than you and can definitely kick my sorry little ass. You are kinda short and I can kinda run away from you :)

moments of incongruity

2005-06-25T07:31:00.000+08:00

I have a best friend. It's very soppy, but it's true. I've known her for 13 years and it's one of those relationships where you can say anything and be completely honest and shit.

Now, this lady, we'll call her Furry (Sexbomb is now either a) choking on whatever she's eating or b) nodding approvingly at this very subtle pseudonym) is one of those people, y'know, popular in high school, life of the party, hundreds of guys chasing after her etc etc. Seriously, it's like one of those teen-angst tv drama cliches and she's the hot chick who is fawned after by everybody.

And then on the other end of the social spectrum, you have me, art geek, smells funny, spends way too much time on the computer and is generally shunned by everyone remotely resembling human. It's true. Excursions to the store for are like epic journeys, everyone just stops short of stoning me. I make small children cry just by standing near them.

We have nothing in common. She's Louis Vuitton and Chanel, and I'm Terry Pratchett and Xbox.

Yet for, some bizzarre reason, she's my best friend. It boggles the mind, I tell you.

And I miss her terribly because I'm fucking bored now and she's always good for a laugh.

monkeys make everything better

2005-06-24T14:05:00.000+08:00

They really do.

King Kong wouldn't be half as good if he was a giant mule

does it bother you when we talk about this?

2005-06-24T02:04:00.000+08:00

What do you fucking think?

Jesus Christ in a fucking helmet. I've spent the last 2 years trying to get over you.

YOU tell ME if it might bother me.

Blame me for being the fool that fucking cared, then.

Fuck.

na na na na na na na na BATMAN!!!

2005-06-23T20:41:00.000+08:00

I saw Batman Begins last night.

THAT IS HOW BATMAN IS SUPPOSED TO BE!! YAAAY!!! CHRISTOPHER NOLAN IS MY HERO.

This time, Batman was SCARY. None of this George-Clooney-Bat-Nipples bullshit. Bwahahahahahaha! No whiney bitch Robin as well! Yaaaay!

Michael Caine is the fucking MAN as Alfred! Wise-talking British Butler!! Booyah!

Morgan Freeman as Lucius Fox! YEAH!!!

Gary Oldman as Gordon! Perfect!!!!

Katie Holmes as Rachel Dawes! Barely Tolerable! But tolerable nontheless!

Yay for the Batmobile! Is a fat-ass motherfucker that goes where it wants!!!

Yaaaay!!!!!!

Christian Bale as Batman! From "The Machinist" to this, who'd have thunk it?

poo!

2005-06-21T17:53:00.000+08:00

Have you ever had one of those epic poos.

You know, you sit on the throne for about 20 minutes and strain and strain and push with all you've got through gritted teeth and the Archie comic that you've been reading is a crumpled mess in your hands (Archie comics are perfect toilet reading material, not too heavy and no concentration required) just when it feels like you're going to get a shit induced hernia, you're done. And a feeling of bliss, almost like, but not quite, that first orgasm with that girl who did that thing with her hands overcomes you for a few minutes.

When you turn around and there's this massive monstrosity of a fucker floating around rather smugly in the water, like some sort of blasphemous intrusion into the world. And you feel just a slight twinge of pride, because you made that thing.

Then you wipe your ass and toss the tissues into the bowl and you flush. The water swirls and the paper goes along with it to wherever it goes AND THE POO IS STILL THERE! AND THE FUCKER IS TWICE AS SMUG NOW!!!

"Hahahahaha, you will never flush me, you bastard! YOU MADE ME!! I'LL BE HERE FOREVER!!!"

And you wait for the toilet flush thingy to reload and you flush again. And the fucker just goes round and round. And you do it again. And again.

"Wheeee!" its says "Do it again! This is fun!"

You run downstairs and out to the yard and get a stick from the tree out back and run back upstairs again, ignoring your mother's strange looks.

In the toilet, you poke the poo until in breaks in half. Not so smug anymore, are you? ARE YOU!!!!

Then you flush and the SON OF A BITCH GOES DOWN! YEAH, BITCH, IT'S MY HOUSE! FEEL THE FLUSH!! BWAHAHAHAHAH!!

Then you realise that you're an alleged adult who's spent the last 45 minutes battling a huge poo.

And you have a shitty smelling stick in your hand.

yay!

2005-06-21T10:15:00.000+08:00

After some rooting around, I FOUND A BOOK TO READ!!!

YAAAAAAY!

I have never felt more pathetic in my entire life.

Cookies are good for you.

bleah overwhelming

2005-06-21T01:24:00.002+08:00

I have never been inflicted with this much boredom in my life. There is absolutely nothing to do. I have read every book in the house, finished every game on the Xbox, Nintendo DS and even the lame-o games on my Mac and fiddled with all my toys.

Nothing on the Internet interests me. Probably as an offshoot of the boredom, I feel no inspiration to draw anything.

My brain feels like it is a bowl of gravy. You know, the brown, unidentifiable kind they slop over the meat at cheap steakhouse. With little blobby, floaty bits in it.

My lethargy has reached epic proportions. Yesterday, as I lay in my bed, my nose started to itch. AND I HAD AN INTERNAL DEBATE AS TO MY NEXT ACTION!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!?!?! I HAD TO THINK IF SCRATCHING MY ITCHY NOSE WAS A GOOD IDEA OR NOT.

You know what's worse? It took a whole 15 minutes to decide that scratching it was probably a good idea.

html

2005-06-20T16:22:00.000+08:00

Remember how I said I was going to learn HTML in a week?

Yeah, that didn't work out so good.

Java I can do. C++ I can suss out after a few hours. HTML eludes me for some reason.

Taking breaks to read comic books just made matters worse.