Stepping aside for Reality

This is my last post for the year 2004. I am going off to enjoy a well-earned vacation. Am in the process of packing my bags. See ya all next year.

The water tariff in Selangor is expected to increase by 15% next year.

But hey, tis the season to be jolly. Cheer up.

Funny-haired man announced that toll charges are going up 10% on the NSE next year.

That's it, I've had enough.

So I've decided to leave you people with something useful. Download this certificate, print it out and show it to anyone who disputes your right to inhale.



You know, don't you, that all this while, you have been breathing without permission? Well, not anymore. This certificate bestows upon you the LEGAL right to breathe.

And breathe in as much as you like. The air is free. The way things are going, I don't want to come back from my vacation to find out that you folks are being billed for breathing. Or worse still, to pay one authority for breathing in and another authority for breathing out.

Oh, you may be happy to note that the certificate is signed by the Jedi Master, Yoda. It means that you are also allowed to breathe officially on other planets. Now ain't that grand? With that, I can go away with ease of mind.

Now let's see....what do I need to pack? Raingear, swimming trunks, tongkat ali tea....yeah. Almost all set. May need to pop into the nearest Seven-Eleven to buy a few more packets of essential stuff.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Happy holidays everybody!!!
And don't do anything that would embarass me!!!
Yeah....right....like that would happen.

I didn’t complete my Christmas shopping yesterday. I had plenty of time so I dingdong here and dingdong there. I overheard two salesgirls talking in Cantonese while in Jusco, and one of them was saying,
“Aiyahhh…..mmm chee miya hai..…”
(Translation: “Aiyahhh…..dunno what cunt…..”

Wow! Those two girls were cruder than the girls in the IT industry.
Then they noticed that I was nearby and started toning down their language. I bet that once I was out of earshot, they would be dishing out profanities like there was no tomorrow.

The good thing about shopping in Jusco is that they have a wrapping service, so I don’t have to wrap the presents myself. The wrapping service is free of charge, which is always a plus with a prudent spender like yours truly. The only thing better that ‘good and cheap’ is ‘good and free’.

I was in another shop when I overheard two Malay salesgirls talking.
“Tolong buka lah.”
“Buka apa?”
“Buka baju…..”
“Huh?”
Then they started giggling between themselves. I guess that salesgirls needed to joke also once in a while.

This proves it. I am not the only one in the world having sex-related thoughts.

I can’t get this word out of my head; “all rounder”. I heard it at a Raya Open House on Sunday. Yeah, I know, it is unusually late to hold a Raya Open House. But this friend of mine claimed that he could not get hold of a caterer earlier and none in the family wanted to cook. The caterer provided the usual rendang and other normal fare. But there was one Italian pasta dish, which seemed a bit out of place. I am normally not a fan of Italian dishes but the pasta was surprisingly good.

Anyway, one of the mak ciks at the Open House commented that somebody she knew was an “all-rounder”, meaning that “to this girl, anybody also can”. You know what I mean. Strange, I thought the term “all-rounder” applied to sports.

I’m on leave today. I just checked my stock of Christmas gifts and I am short a couple. So I am going to hit the malls to shop. As I will be away for Christmas this year(secret destination), I need to get my presents all gift-wrapped and ready by this weekend at the latest.

Let me see, for the nephew who made it to the top of my “naughty” list, I think I will get him a drum. A really loud one. His parents will be sure to take it away from him before the day is out. Gosh, I am wicked. Muahahahahah!

For the little niece who made it to the top of my “nice” list, I may get something extra for her on my trip. Yeah, I’m practising cronyism. Muahahahahah!

‘Tis the season to be jolly, falalalala….lalalala.....

My one-year-old dog was naughty last night. It dragged the “Welcome” mat onto the driveway and gave it a workout. Bits and pieces of the mat were strewn on the driveway and the garden. I caught the dog in the act and shouted at it. It slunk away. I went after it and scolded it non-stop. In fact I was on its case for the next 15 minutes. You should have heard me growling and snarling at it. They say that one big lesson is better than 100 small lessons. And I did not intend to let the dog forget this quickly.

During the night, the dog did not dare to come out to the front and sleep, like it normally does. Instead, it crept to the back of the house and slept.

This morning, I noticed that the dog did not eat its morning meal. Its bowl was full of dog food, untouched. The maid informed me that it usually behaves like that. She said that if it gets a thorough scolding from me the night before, it would not eat until 3 p.m. the next day. It is not sulking. It is something like self-punishment. If it somehow displeased me, then it will forgo food in the morning to make up for having displeased me. I have never had a dog that practices self-punishment before. This is the first time and I’m sort of freaked out.

There is something about this dog that made me suspect that it was a human in its previous life. The way it uses its paws like hands. Except that I do not believe in reincarnation. This dog can be a handful, but is also very intelligent.

Anyway, at 11 a.m., I gave it a piece of fish. It was my way of telling the miscreant that it was all right to eat. It came and licked me on the face. I patted it, talked to it, and then left it alone. Half an hour later, its food was gone. But he seems more subdued today.

I hope it doesn't try to tear up the “Welcome” mat from now on.

My nephew wanted to know what I am getting him or Christmas this year. So I told him about a few facts of life.

"You know, you have been a bad boy this year. Santa Claus has a list of kids who have been naughty or nice , and he checks the list twice. And guess what! Your name made it to the top of the 'naughty' list!"

"But I don't want a present from Santa. I want a present from you, uncle!"

"Hey....listen up......I also have a list. And I check it three times."

"Why do you need to check your list three times when Santa only checks his list twice?"

"Well, I have a smaller budget and I want to be more careful."

"But you always have money!"

"Hey kid, it's Christmas season. We can only give presents to kids who qualify. It's the law."

"Can you remove my name from the 'naughty' list?"

"Sure.......I'm your favourite uncle aren't I? But I'll need a bribe. Pay me ten ringgit and I'll do it."

"Okay, what is the value of the present I am going to get?"

"Whoa, being calculative is it? At least 12 ringgit! But that is before I get it at 70% discount. But for that I will throw in the wrapping paper for free."

"All right!"

Amazing. The kid still can't do the maths. I may be on to a great scam here.

Today, I present the concluding chapter of my animal fable story. It is much longer than Aesop's fables, and probably X-rated as well, so I do not think any publisher of children's books will look at this seriously. Still, I had fun writing it.

The Viewtru Fables
Chapter 3: Enter the Curious Zen cat

The Top Dog did a quick analysis of the situation. Somehow, all sexual activities must be prevented at all costs if the meeting is to be successfully carried out.

"Without cocks, there will be no sex!" he thought.

The first thing the Top Dog did was to get some racks built from dry tree branches. These racks were then placed outside the cavern. Every dog in the meeting was required to remove its cock and balls and hang them on the racks outside the cavern. Now, they won't be able to have sex during the meeting. Each set of cock and balls was properly labeled so that it could be claimed by its rightful owner only after the Very Important Meeting.

The meeting went on well. The hermaphrodite dogs debated each point long and hard.

While the dogs were having their debates in the Great Cavern, a team of cats passed by and they saw the sexual organs of the hermaphrodite dogs neatly laid out on the racks outside the cavern.

The cats were curious creatures. They were also into zen practice. As they stared at the unusual spectacle of dog pricks and balls on the racks, they contemplated the true nature of the universe......and whether or not dogs were idiots.

One novice zen cat asked a philosophical question aloud, "If a rack falls in the forest, and there are no dogs there to hear it, does it make a sound?"

The other cats stared at the novice with disdain. For it was a stupid question. And not at all philosophical. Knowing is but a delusion.

Reaching out and grabbing a pair of dog balls from a rack, the novice zen cat clapped the two balls together. Somewhere inside the Great Cavern, a dog yelped in pain.

The novice zen cat asked, "What is the sound of one ball clapping?"

The other cats stared at it with contempt. For it was yet another stupid question. And not at all zen-like. This novice cat had not understood the absolute nature of what cannot be understood.

Paying attention to the dog dicks on the racks, the novice zen cat asked, "If we wank these things at high speed, do you suppose that the dogs inside the cavern can get an thunderous orgasm?"

Aha! Now, that was true philosophy! At last! A question worthy of the gods!

The cats moved about excitedly, running to and fro, pondering the zen nature of this question. Two cats running very fast, sideswiped each other, and the static electricity from the fur caused a spark which set the racks on fire. The fire quickly spread to all the racks.

The cats pondered this new development, and asked each other, "Is it the racks that are on fire, or the dog organs that are on fire?"

The novice zen cat answered in a solemn manner,
"It is neither the racks nor the dog organs that are on fire! It is your mind that is on fire!"
(Note: This is a very complicated concept, and only a zen monk on his ninth life would be able to understand it. The rest of you will just have to free your minds. But I suggest that it is better to put out the fire!)

The smell of burning flesh soon alerted the dogs inside the cavern. They rushed outside to find that half of the private parts had been burnt to a toast. What to do? Each dog grabbed a set of sexual organs and ran off, not caring if it is the rightful owner or not. Since half of the private parts have already been burnt, only half the number of dogs managed to have a set of cock and balls. The dogs that did not managed to grab a set of cock and balls tried to wrestle them from those who had possession. There soon ensued a tug-o-war over the organs.

The Top Dog quickly assessed the situation and made a new ruling:
"Events have decided our sexual evolutionary path for us! Those dogs that managed to get a set of cock and balls will henceforth become males. Those who don't have cock and balls will henceforth become females."

This ruling set off another round of tug-o-war over the organs.

But soon, peace reigned, and every dog accepted its fate.

Of course, since each newly-made male dog was not donning its own original set of sexual organs, it felt some discomfort. To this day, when a male dog lies down, it has a habit of licking and nuzzling its private parts, still trying to soothe away the discomfort.

Also, the dogs have not yet given up trying to reclaim their original set of cock and balls. So, whenever two dogs meet, they will sniff at each other's private parts to see if the organs belong to them.

But that is not the worst of it.

The bitches have not yet gotten over the fact that they don't have dicks any more. They don't mind having sex with the male dogs. But after sex, the bitches would hold on tightly to the cocks and refuse to let go. They are still hoping to wrestle the cocks away from the males. A tug-o-war always happen after doggy sex.

The male dogs would bark "Let go lah, you stupid bitch!"

And the bitches would reply, "Give it up lah, you stubborn fucker!"

And all the village kids would surround the dogs and shout encouragement,
"One, two, pull! One, two, pull!"

Still, it would take a good half an hour before the male dog can free his dick from the vaginal grasp of the bitch. Who would have known that a stupid fire could have such long term consequences?

And to this day, whenever a dog sees a cat, it would give chase.

I spotted an oxymoron in the Star article(‘One in five immigrant workers is an illegal’) on page 24 this morning. The first sentence of the article read:
“For every five registered workers in Johor, one is an illegal.”

Logically, that is not possible. If all five are registered, then none is illegal. That sentence implies that the illegal worker has to be one of the five registered workers. This is an oxymoron.

The proper way to put it is this:
“For every five registered workers in Johor, there is one illegal worker.”

Now isn’t that much better?

Hold on. The sentence may be correct, but the mathematics is not. That would imply a total of 6 workers(5 registered plus one illegal).

To be mathematically correct as well, one has to say:
“For every FOUR registered workers in Johor, there is one illegal worker.”

Why is it that newspaper reporters don't bother to read up on my FREE and VERY GOOD Lesson on Oxymoron which I wrote earlier this year?

But enough of all that grammatical crap. Let’s continue with Chapter 2 of the animal fables.


The Viewtru fables
Chapter 2: The Very Important Meeting.

The Great Cavern was large. Large enough to hold all the prehistoric dogs in the world. Of course, in those days, there were not many of them around that had survived the Ice Age.

Pandemonium was the order of the day at the meeting. Each dog barked its own views on whether to remain hermaphrodites or to split into opposite sexes, with predefined roles for males and females. The dogs that could barked the loudest made themselves heard over the din.

“Grrrrrrr….. Woof! Woof! Woof? Grrrrrrr….. Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof?”
(Translation: ”What is wrong with being a hermaphrodite? Why the fuck should anybody care if we fuck ourselves accidentally or not?”)

“Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!”
(Translation: ”If a benevolent God did not want us to screw anybody and everybody, we wouldn’t have been born naked!”)

“Bow! Wow! Bow! Wow! Bow! Wow! Bow! Wow! Bow! Wow!”
(Translation: ”Yeah, fuck this shit. All this talk about sex is making me horny!”)

“Ruff! Ruff! Grrrrrrr….. Ruff! Ruff! Ruff! Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!”
(Translation: ”Right…...why don’t we all get drunk and screw?”)

“Ahh.....Oouuuu! Owwww Owwww Owwww Owwww Owouuuuuuuu....... ”
(Translation: ”I didn't want to do it, but ya persuaded me....”)

The Very Important Meeting descended into disaster after that. It became one mass super orgy with the prehistoric hermaphrodite dogs in a sex marathon, each trying to outdo the other in demonstrating positional variations. The meeting organisers tried in vain to bring their attention to more serious matters. Finally, they gave up. The meeting had indeed gone to the dogs.

And that was how we got the phrase “gone to the dogs”, meaning “a cockup ending”. This phrase is still popular today. (Yeah, I know...another English lesson.)

The next morning, the dogs woke up tired and listless, and looked at each other in shame. Instead of concentrating on the important evolutionary matter at hand, they had given way to their sexual instincts. They vowed to take a more serious approach henceforth.

The dogs then decided to elect a leader to control the meeting. They did not have a title for their leader. The terms “President”, “Chairman” or “Prime Minister” had not been invented in those days. So they called their leader simply the “Top Dog”. And this term still exists today to mean “Da Man whom every sonofabitch has to obey”. (Oooops! Yet another English lesson....sorry!)

The Top Dog, a massive creature, took the stand and immediately made a very crucial decision. One that would lead to a series of events that would affect every dog through future generations.

Continued tomorrow: Chapter 3: Enter the Curious Zen Cats

This must be animal season.

First I blogged about cats.
Then Dr Liew blogged about sea monkeys.
And Lucia blogged about zoos.
And Mossie blogged about a frog.

Okay, so it is official.....it is animal season.

Just for that, I am going to write an animal fable. This story will attempt to present the historic reasons why dogs behave like they do, and why they chase cats. It is a very long story, and so I have to write it by the chapter.

The Viewtru Fables
Chapter 1: The end of the Ice Age

A long time ago, just after the last Ice Age ended, all prehistoric dogs were hermaphrodites. And bisexuals too. Each dog had both male and female organs. Meaning that, they could screw just about every other dog. Which must be damn confusing to all of us. But not to them.

It was great being a dog. The only drawback was that it would sometimes accidentally screw itself. But it could live with that.

However, the trend of the prehistoric animals was to evolve into different sexes. Fewer and fewer animals were becoming hermaphrodites. They just didn't want to screw themselves; accidentally or otherwise. Soon, only the dogs, the snails and some inconsequential species remained as hermaphrodites.

"This won't do!" said the dogs, "Our hermaphrodite lifestyle is going out of fashion! We are no longer hip, cool, and with it!"

The other animals would pass snide remarks about the dogs.

"Look, there go the dogs!"
"They're freaking hermaphrodites!"
"I hear that they fuck themselves!"

The cats were more insolent then the other animals. From the safety of the trees, they would shout out merrily to each passing dog,
"Hey, you! Go fuck yourself!"

To this day, this is considered a great insult.

The dogs had had enough. They decided to hold a meeting to determine their sexual evolutionary path. They called it their "Roadmap to future sex". Every prehistoric dog was asked to come to the Very Important Meeting to be held in a Great Cavern to vote on their sexual future, which would be binding on all their descendents henceforth. This decision would be binding even to the descendents of those dogs that did not turn up to vote. Such was the concept of democracy in those days. This concept carried on till today.

And so, with their sexual future at stake, every dog, far and wide, turned up at the Great cavern for the Very Important Meeting.

Continued tomorrow: Chapter 2: The Very Important Meeting

Yesterday night, the TV showed the crossbeams of the Kepong flyover. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the much touted space age technology using carbon fibres to repair the structure, but all the TV showed was only concrete.

Whatever happened to the space age carbon? All bullshit only, is it? Treating the public like fools only, is it?

Let me guess. Wiser heads must have ruled space age carbon as inappropriate. As usual, Highway Hair was making some highly important announcement. I dunno what, ‘cos my mind switched off the minute he opened his mouth.

Today’s Star newspaper reported this article on page 8:
‘Iron head’ act among highlights.
It’s about a wushu exponent who has a head so hard that it can smash a stone slab. Impressive, no?

We don’t have an ‘Iron head’ in our country. But we do have a ‘Concrete head’. By ‘Concrete head’, I mean that he’s hard headed. Extremely.

Even his mind is like concrete: all mixed up and permanently set.

What does the public call him? ‘Concrete head’ or ‘Highway Hair’? Take your pick.

I have seen Platinum Detox being offered by companies operating in One Utama and the Subang Jaya Carrefour building. What happens is that the customer pays something like 80 ringgit or thereabouts to put his feet inside a footbath, and then miraculously, the toxins of the body will flow from inside the body to the water surrounding the feet. Is this a hoax or does the method really works? Can bodily toxins leach out through the feet that easily?

On checking the web, I found this article that says that it is all a scam.

Maybe, someone from the health ministry should check on the claims by these companies.

I was having breakfast in a coffeeshop this morning, nice and quiet, when suddenly some cats started caterwauling in the back lane.
“Ennnnnnnnn………Orrhnnnnnnnn…….Ennnnnnnnn…..Orrhnnnnnnn….”

Cats have the strangest behaviour.
Why is it that when two stray cats meet each other, they have to make aeroplane sounds?
That is most unnatural.

Now, dogs are different.
When two stray dogs meet each other, they will sniff each other’s balls.
Now, isn’t that more natural?

But, back to the cats.
I remember my English teacher saying that cats are supposed to say “Miaou! Miaou!” to each other. I suppose they do that in England.

In Malaysia, as every schoolboy would tell you, the local cats say “Mahu, tak mahu?”

My Japanese friends told me that, in Japan, cats make the sound “Nyar! Nyar!”
Now, that is most odd. It's difficult enough to try to understand a foreign language without having to understand a foreign cat as well.

I have been sent this set of mathematical equations through the email:

Smart man + smart woman = romance
Smart man + dumb woman = affair
Dumb man + smart woman = marriage
Dumb man + dumb woman = pregnancy

Hey, screw all that! How did things get so complicated?
Let me present my own set of solutions:

Smart man + smart woman = great sex
Smart man + dumb woman = great sex
Dumb man + smart woman = great sex
Dumb man + dumb woman = two virgins trying to figure out how to fit the condom on the tits.

I look at things rather simply. As long as there is one smart person in the equation, things will always work out. But then, I'm optimistic.

I hate recreational shooting. Not normal hate, but the hate with the heat of a thousand suns. I have ranted against hunters before, whom I consider as limp-dicked wusses hiding behind high-powered rifles with telescopic sights to shoot at decent wild animals trying to eke out a living on the land.

We need to execute hunters every now and then to make them aware that they can be killed too. No wait.....if they are dead, then they wouldn't be aware that they could be killed, would they? No matter. I'll settle for what I can get.

Now this sicko company that offers hunters the ability to shoot at real targets with the click of a mouse, just got me in the mood for some verbal carnage. You call that recreation? I call that morbid, with a capital M. Knowing that with each click of the mouse, some real life doe-eyed creature is about to lose a life. Or a limb. Or both. And all in the name of recreation.

What is it with people that they need to get their kicks this way? Couldn't they just go to a whorehouse like any normal decent people? Oh, I forget. They are limp-dicked wusses who can't do shit in a whorehouse. But wait, haven't they heard of Levitra, Ciallis or Viagra? Gee, are their lives so miserably hopeless that they can't discover new reasons to live? In that case, they should just take turns to shoot each other. And shoot to kill.

Damn, I am in a foul mood. On top of that, I have to fill up my annual self-evaluation form. Fuck this shit. I'll do that another day. Procrastination is the natural organiser of time. I think I'll just strut over to the next office and educate some cute chicks on the merits of buying me lunch. That sounds morally good. Okay, I'm feeling much better already.