Stepping aside for Reality

I just checked my Li Daifu site and came away impressed at the amount of spam it had collected in the comment box. I don't understand why spammers will want to target that blog coz I am sure that hardly anybody goes there.

There is a certain structure to spam. First, the bugger tells you how much he likes your blog, and then he invites you to go and visit his blog. Most of the time, these people are selling something. That is what spam is all about.

Well, if others can do it, so can I. Thus, in a moment of inspiration, I decided to create my own spam, like this:

"Hi! I just came across your blog and wanted to drop you a note telling you how impressed I was with the extraordinary bullshit you have the nerve to post here. Please accept my compliments and best wishes for your depraved version of joy and your freaky sexual experiments. If you have a moment, which you do since you don't do shit, please take a look at my equally disgusting site
http://dearlaima.blogspot.com/. It features weird incoherent ramblings masquerading as solid professional advice. Best regards! And yeah, this is spam!"

Here’s the deal. If you have a blog, and you want me to spam your comment box, all you have to do is say “Spam me!”

A long time ago, there lived a sage, respected both by kings and common folk.

One day, an old man approached him in a highly agitated state. His mind was full of anger over something that the sage had taught. As he approached the sage, the old man spewed forth with terrible rebukes and curses.

Finally, when he was out of breath with all the cussing, he paused.

The sage took this opportunity to ask him, “Old man, is it true that in your culture and traditions, that when you visit someone, you will not go emptyhanded but will bear gifts with you?”

“Yes,” replied the old man.

“What if the one you visit do not accept your gifts?” asked the sage.

“In that case, the gifts remain with the bearer,” answered the old man.

The sage smiled and gently said, “Old man, I do not accept your gifts.”

The veil of ignorance fell from the old man and he immediately understood the lesson; when someone bring you gifts of insults, and you do not accept them, they remain with the one doing the insulting.

The sage’s name was Siddharta, widely considered an enlightened person. He did not cuss back, or mount a protest….nothing. Today, he is acknowledged as the wisest man India has produced.

The obscene violence, unnecessary deaths, widespread destruction of property, beheading threats, and the frenzied whipping up of hate over a bunch of drawings is a thousand times more damaging when a simple act of NON-ACCEPTANCE was all that was required.

Where is the spirituality?

Have humans learn nothing the past two thousand years?

My prediction for the 6 male finalist places are:

Chris Daughtry
Elliott Yamin
Ace Young
Taylor Hicks
Will Makar
Kevin Covais

Again, it is none of my business. I just want to test out my predictive senses.

Based on the first performance, my prediction for the 6 girls who will enter the finals(in no particular order) are:

Kellie Pickler
Ayla Brown
Mandisa Hundley
Paris Bennett
Lisa Tucker
Katharine McPhee

Not that it is any of my business. But I just want to KPC a bit.

I'm exhausted.

There’s a bird flu alert on. It looks serious. Dead serious. Seems that the virus was discovered in the Setapak area. They are now going house to house to search for chickens.

I told Harry not to visit any chicken farms in Setapak. He assured me that there are no chicken farms in Setapak, none that he knows of anyway. To his knowledge, most of the henhouses are in the Chow Kit area.

I warned Harry that the chickens in the villages are now also being watched. He replied that there are no chickens in the villages too. Otherwise there would not be a need for lonely old villagers to visit Chow Kit.

The newspapers have warned that one should take health precautions when handling chickens. Harry agreed with that one. He said that he always had protection with him. And they are easily available all over Chow Kit.

Enough….one shouldn’t crack jokes over anything as solemnly messy as this.

Let’s move on.

You guys must be comedians. For yesterday’s pic of John Cusack, I had thought that there would be a couple of straight-laced guys who would think that John Cusack would say something profound like:

“Let us narrow our differences for world peace and the betterment of humankind”

Or some similar intellectual shit.

But no, we had none of that. It’s all about sex and jokery with you guys, is it? Where have all the serious straight-laced squares gone?

As for FireAngel who seemed to think that I have small…..feet…..well, John Cusack wants you to know that he was talking about my.....ahem.....thickness. Yeah!!!!!

Somebody, anybody, please tell me what actor John Cusack is trying to tell us!

Suddenly, I'm getting visitors from Thailand to this blog, all because of rotiboy. I can't believe they are selling it in Bangkok for a whopping 25 baht each(or RM2.35)!

And yes, you've guessed it....Thai visitors are making their way here for my recipe on rotiboy. Frankly, I hope they are not too disappointed to find that this is an unusually inane bullshit blog and not your usual food information dispensing outlet.

Look, people...that recipe may not be the best, but it has been known to work. If I could translate that recipe into the Thai language I would. But I can't. I hope you understand.

No? Let me try again.



Sawasdee!(Welcome)

I so sorry if I cannot write recipe in Thai language.

Pasa thai mai khao jai('Thai language don't understand).

Never mind, you try out the pasa angrit(English language) recipe first and if got luck then maybe sabai sabai('good good')

If it turns into something else, then, mai pen rai('never mind')

Khawp khun khrup('Thank you')





Okay, I'm glad we got that out of the way. Let's get on to more serious business.

I heard that Proton has decided not to sell the Lotus company for one pound. Sure lah, so cheap who want to sell?

"We are not interested in selling it at whatever value,” the MD said.

Damn! I was prepared to go up to two pounds. Looks like I may have to offer three.

Good morning.

I haven't had my coffee yet.

I would like to begin the week with an important community message from Britney Spears:
"Smoking kills. And if you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life."

True , true!

Superficial Britney is making sense to me. That can't be cool.

Shit, I need my coffee.

Update at 11 a.m.:
Arkane correctly pointed out that it was Brooke Shields and not Britney Spears who said those immortal words. I really need to wake up! Where is that second cup of coffee?

Good morning. Here is the news roundup for this week.

Earlier in the week, we had the long awaited cabinet reshuffle and now we have a completely new team. Last I heard, this new team is gonna plot a bold new direction for us……and turn the country around by 360 degrees.

U.S. president, George Bush, sent his congratulatory telegram messages to the fresh new line-up, saying that they look so much better than the tired old line-up. He will be going for his optometrist appointment next Tuesday.

U.S. vice-president, Dick Cheney, invited the new team over for a quail hunt. He is promising them a heart-pulsing time of their lives. To my knowledge, no one in the new line-up has accepted the invitation yet. Now, that is just plain annoying.

Dick Cheney shot his hunting partner, a lawyer, a few days ago during a quail hunt. Apparently, the lawyer was mistaken for a bird. It wasn’t Dick’s fault. All birds look alike……vulture, quail…...what’s the difference? Anybody could make a genuine mistake.

Over here, we have individuals getting APs every year because they were repeatedly mistaken for car import companies.

And then there is an old foggy who regularly gets mistaken as a Kepong bridge expert.

This is the end of the news roundup. Have a great weekend!

Some of my female friends are getting to be a pain in the ass….sitting around bitching and moaning their woes to all and sundry within earshot.

They bitched about how they threw in 896865432692 mandarin oranges into the water during Chap Goh Meh and not a single one of them worked their magic.

And then they bitched about how by Valentine’s Day, they still did not get to catch their Mr Right.

“A good man is hard to find!”

No shit.

“All the good guys are taken!”

No shit.

“Men are shallow; they only marry girls with big tits!”

BULLSHIT!

Why is it that every girl who can’t get a boyfriend automatically assume that her tits are not big enough? If that is the case, why then do they bother to go throw oranges into the sea every Chap Goh Meh?

I’ve had enough of this crappy logic. If you girls want a boyfriend, I’ll tell you how to get one pronto. All you need to do is use your oranges to the fullest effect.

No ifs and buts. Just follow my instructions. As long as you got tits the size of oranges, it will work for you. No mangoes or pomelos. Just oranges.

Stand in front of a mirror and check that you have a pair of oranges.



Count them. Note that you need to have exactly two. Not one less, not one more. I can’t emphasize this often enough.

Next, you got to watch your posture. Even though you may think that your oranges may be too small to be impressive, hold them up HIGH. Do not slouch!

Like this.




When you hold them up high, they will appear bigger than they actually are. But that is not the point. You will appear more confident, and good men are attracted to confident women!

For the next step, you gotta learn to play snooker. This is Plan A.

You know snooker, don’t you. It’s a game played with a long stick, hard balls and inviting holes. Much like the sort of game you will be playing when you get your Mister Right.

Next time you are with a group of male pals, challenge the cutest one to a friendly game of snooker. Then as you bend down to cue the ball, sway gently from side to side, allowing your oranges to roll about in the confines of your clothes. You may be interested to know that every time you bend low, your oranges will appear bigger. Because of gravity.



Guys will look. Their brains are in their zips. At some point in the game, a message lights up in their brains, telling them that you’ve got a wonderful personality. At that point, you have got them snookered. They may not remember what your face looks like, but it does not matter......you’ve got a wonderful personality.

Oh wait. What if you wish to play snooker and the guy can’t play? Snooker is out, so you need to go with Plan B.

Drop some stuff near the guy and then bend low to slowly pick up your stuff. Make sure that he has a good angle of view. But obviously, you can’t do that all the time or he may think that you are clumsy. You will have to supplement your dropping stuff actions with bending low to pour him beer, coffee or whatever.



If there is no response, not even a surreptitious look; don’t give up thinking that he may be gay. Go for Plan C and sit like this:




Some men are not into oranges. That’s because they were never breastfed when they were little babies, and so they did not develop the natural connection with female tits. In that case, their interests would be channeled to the legs.

If Plan A, B and C all don’t work, it does not mean that all hope is lost. Or that the men are gay. It may only mean that the guys you know have bad eyesight.

In that case, invest in a good pair of bikini top and hit the beaches. In the bright sunlight, no one can mistake what you have.



I hope you have been listening. If not, next Chap Goh Meh, you’ll be throwing oranges again. And after Valentine’s Day, you’ll be bitching again. And we don’t want that, do we?

Good luck.

I just lost a bow-tied actor.

Without him, the Shakespearean plays will never be the same again.

Oh woe! The cast is undone.
Wherefore shall I continue?
Bring the bagpipes to the gate
Sound off thy lofty trumpets
And by that revelry, remember us well
A gentleman with the gift of tongue
To enthrall with thoughts that meddled the brain
And obscured the landscape of reason
As we learn'd, there was no purpose in him
And thus was a soul bid begone
And an actor leaves the gilded stage
O wretched Shakespearean play.....
What will become of thee?


I must be brave.

It’s Valentine Day, the most stressful day of the year.

For those who are sitting a lone tonight without a date, it’s stressful.
For those who have a date but forgot to book a restaurant table, it’s doubly stressful.
And for those who managed to get a table, and found out that the menu prices have shot astronomically upwards to Mars, it’s triply stressful.

Hot Babe and I have an agreement not to celebrate Valentine’s Day on Valentine’s Day itself. We can celebrate the weekend before or the weekend after. That way, we avoid the crowds and the high prices. Hot Babe is allergic to crowds. I am allergic to high prices.

I remember the time when we went to a small restaurant in Port Klang to have crabs for our Valentine Day dinner. We were early and the restaurant was half empty. Halfway through our meal of seafood, the crowds arrived. We could see the couples waiting anxiously for empty tables, the look of intense desperation on their worried faces, like they have just shitted in their new Valentine-brand underwear.

While I was still tearing a huge crab apart, as romantically as I could, one desperate couple hovered nearby, waiting for us to quickly vacate the table. I found that mildly distracting, especially when I was attempting my best to look romantic while repeatedly slamming the crab claw viciously with a hammer. We decided that Valentine Day dinner was a bad idea from that day onwards.

Hey, do you know that I am Numero Uno on the Google search list for “orangutan haikus”? Despite the fact that I have never written anything resembling an orangutan haiku? No shit!

Hahahahaha!

To make up for that oversight, here is a haiku, written in the usual 5-7-5 format.

Darn orangutan
Carving haikus on the trees
I honked the fucker

May I remind folks that we should never go around carving things on trees? It’s simply not socially nor ecologically acceptable. That goes for animals too. If that cheeky orangutan is not gonna behave in an environmentally responsible manner, it’s gonna get a honking from me. Honk! Honk!

Oh, happy Valentines Day!

I have always known that religion is divisive. Events of the past days have proven me more right than ever. I may be a godless heathen but yet, no one can convince me that religion can lead to spirituality when every religious squabble points in the opposite direction.

The danish cartoons may be unfunny, but the carnage and mayhem in the reaction was even more unfunny. Eleven people have lost their lives so far. Eleven people!

It is not as if the crowds were especially big. Some of the protests against the World Trade Organization had even larger crowds, but nobody died.

Chandra Muzaffar said it best in his article in the Star:
"......what the protesters do not realise is that by resorting to violence they have unwittingly reinforced the worst prejudices of those detractors of Islam who are only too willing to link the religion to terror."

Chandra Muzaffar is a thinker. I have attended one of his talks and a lot of what he had to say about life made a lot of sense. I'm not surprised that he left Keadilan. Thinkers and politics don't mix.

In commenting on the violent nature of the protests, the Grand Mufti Mohammed Rashid Kabbani, spiritual leader of Lebanon's Sunni Muslims, said that Islamic radicals were trying to "distort the image of Islam."

Did he say "trying"? Too late, man. The lines have blurred and we are now left to wonder which version is the truth and which one is the distorted one.

There was a time in ancient history when religion was synonymous with education and rational thought. Men of religion pursued spirituality, not for what they could get out of their Gods, but so that they could discover the truth about themselves. Today, you talk of religion and somehow politics rear its ugly head. Whatever happened to the noble pursuit of spirituality?

This is not the first time that religion has shown itself to be divisive. The conflict in Belfast along religious lines is known throughout the world. More recently, 36 people died in Pakistan after battling each other with rockets and whatnots over a religious difference which I am unable to comprehend till now. Don't try to explain the history of it to me. I know the history. I just can't comprehend the lack of tolerance.

The reality of life is that most people on this planet has a need for some form of religion or another. Only very few people can be true atheists. Although there are a lot of people who claimed to be atheists, in the face of life-threatening situations, you'll probably find them kao peh kao bu praying to every God they have heard of!

I have mentioned the theory before that this planet is one big giant farm and humans are bred by aliens. Just like a worm farm, where the worms are not aware that they are being bred, humans too, are not aware that they are only farm animals. You are worms, nothing more than that, and that's the sad truth.

Only an idiot will think that the aliens are interested in humans as a form of food or pleasure. Aliens are robots, meaning that they have no need for food or pleasure. I am still trying to figure out what their goal is, but it could be something noble. Looking at the happenings of the world, I bet they are thinking that perhaps they should have bred Neanderthals instead of homo sapiens. It's a good thing that they are robots, and can't get pissed, but they can still decide in a cold analytical way that 6 billion people is too much for this planet.

So listen up, you alien-bred two-legged worms. I do not wish to panic you, but if humans prove to be incapable of developing a rational thought process, the aliens may be tempted to start a culling operation. It may have started already, for all we know.

I’ve been invited to a weekend Chap Goh Meh party.

We’re gonna have food, drinks and then we’re gonna do the cermonial Dog Dance to ensure that we have luck all year round.

I hope that I don’t have to explain to the public that the ceremonial Dog Dance happens when the dancer dances like a dog. That can’t be too tough, can it? And its all for an auspicious return; luck(or “Ong”) all year round. For the dog dancer.

I can’t even emphasize enough how important this ceremony is. Just a short dance is all it takes to get the “Ong” flowing in your life.

You may have some unfounded reservations on dog dancing, but let me ask you this. You wanna dance like a dog for a few moments or you wanna work like a dog for the rest of the year?

OK, let me convince you with some serious COST-BENEFIT ANALYSIS. Note that I’m using ‘management talk’ because I have been told that I’m fantastic management material. Serious. Just because I am good looking does not mean that I am fucking dumb.

Now let’s get on with the analysis.

You only need to dance like a dog for this CNY period(meaning SHORT time) to ensure that your luck flows like a gushing tap for the rest of the year(meaning LONG time). And that allows you to goof off for the rest of the year(again meaning LONG time).

Comprende? Good! It’s very important that you not only know what you are doing, but why you are doing it. It’s called “understand-your-goals-or-else-shit-happens”. Again, that’s 'management talk'. Noobs.

Let us be brutally honest with ourselves…..people who visit this pretense of a blog when they really ought to be working their ass off like a maniac in the office are simply not the type of outstanding models of prolific output who live to work like a dog all year round. See?

Now that I have jolted you into reality, let’s get on with the dance routine.

For that, you need to get down on the floor on all fours like a dog. After that you lift up one hind leg and shake it in the air. To music of course. The cantonese song “Choy San Tou” is appropriate.

It works better if you are naked. In fact, it’s better than doing nude squats, trust me. One of these days, some smart alec is gonna copy this idea, and before you know it, a video of this will find its way to the handphone of Teresa Kok.

Look, if you feel really stupid doing this alone, maybe you should consider doing it in a group.

Like this group here.



See how it’s done? Legs straight, bent, backwards or sideways.....it doesn’t matter. But the leg has got to be off the ground. That's the rule.

Do it in a group and you won’t feel so self–conscious. And of course, there’s no such thing as group stupidity. Maybe there is, but nobody is gonna say that to a group. We call that the “Awesome Power of Critical Mass”. No, that’s not 'management talk', but something I heard of during group sex. But that’s another story.

So for this weekend, you know what you have to do. Get a dance group going, and then its…………ONG MARI LOR!!!!!!!

Would you believe that I lost half a kg in weight over the CNY period? Oh, I ate a lot all right, much more than my usual amount. You should have seen me hit the buffet tables like a hurricane on the loose. However, during that festive period, I also did a lot of walking and climbing.

Those of you who had been on a wild orgiastic food binge for the past ten days, and who are now thoroughly ashamed of yourself(yeah....right) may want to read this article of interest "Low-fat diet does not reduce health risks".

I know of people who will not take any fat at all, and will diligently cut out any tiny speck of animal fat there is on their plate. It's a total waste of time, if you ask me. A little bit of fat should be good for you.

Although I do avoid fat at times, I do not go out of the way to avoid it. The hard fact is that the fat part is seldom as tasty as the protein part of a meat, so my taste buds would naturally demand that I avoid eating the fat portion. Unless the fat has been stewed for hours, in which case it would be soft and nice. And palatable. The best part of the meat is the streaky meat, with part fat and part protein in layers, but you know that already, don't you?

You know what makes people fat? Milk and carbohydrates.

Milk is probably one of the most harmful and fattening food there is for adults. All milk drinking societies struggle with obesity in their population. I get royally pissed off by milk companies trying to scare the population into drinking their milk to prevent osteoporosis(weak bones). Bunch of marketing crock, if you ask me.

The Japanese eat well, but they don't drink milk, and they don't have a problem with osteoporosis. The Americans drink lots and lots of high-calcium milk, and what do they get for their efforts……..the world's highest incidence of osteoporosis!

Where is the logic? It doesn't take the brains of a gnat to figure out that drinking milk leads to osteoporosis. One day, science will be able to explain why the calcium in milk is simply not working. The good news is that many people are waking up to the fact that milk does more harm than good to women.

But wtf, don't let me scare you shitless. I still take milk in my teh tarik. Gotta live a little mah. And I still take ice-cream(a dairy product) occasionally. Oh yeah! Actually, I prefer the ice-cream potong over the scooped ice-cream. My favourite brand is King, and my favourite flavour is red-bean. When I have one in my mouth, I feel like a little kid again.

Hi! I’m back! From my holidays.

Yvonne has taken objection to my earlier post describing how I met her. Many of you who have read that post would remember that it was written in my usual flippant exaggerated type of language which some of us are known for, because frankly, it is not in my character to use a different writing style.

I wanted to express my admiration for a girl who had achieved much more than many girls at her age could. I was in the presence of greatness, and I knew it. Meeting her was a milestone in my life and I wanted to record it here. The last thing I wanted was for the post to bring tears to her.

Well, if the description in that post offended her, then it offends me too. I have therefore deleted it without hesitation.

I am sorry Yvonne, for the hurt I caused you.

For my indiscretion, I will penalize myself by not blogging for one whole week.

Normal blogging will only resume next Wednesday.

Update:
It does appear that I misunderstood Yvonne. I didn't offend her at all even though I thought I did. I have already said that I will penalize myself by not blogging for one whole week. I cannot change it now without destroying my credibility. One thing that I have learned about this blog is that for some mysterious reason, it works. Many of the things I have called out for in the past have come to pass. Maybe it was just coincidence, or maybe I do indeed have friends in heavenly places. Whatever. The point is that I need to preserve my credibility. One should not say at one moment "penalize" and then retract that the next moment. Even in the event that this blog is so chockful of bullshit that it has only an itsy antsy shred of credibility, wouldn't it make perfect sense to try to preserve whatever tiny shred there is? I can't rescind the penalty, but I can give myself some sort of a parole after serving ONE day away from the blogosphere. I don't know about other people, but that is what I get for very good behaviour. How do you like that......I am judge, jury AND the Parole Board!
Normal blogging resumes on this Thursday!