Friday, July 27, 2007

Oh OH oH

I want to recommend everybody the deepest, most meaningful, most soulful, most poetic song to have ever graced the realm of music. Fuck your mtv top 40 bullshit, this is the real deal. Here are the lyrics:-


Left? ..
Can't live..
Must die..

Haven't died..
Still live
Must cry
Must cry

*repeat chorus

There's no..

Party in the backyard..
Spin spin spin..
Must die!
Fucking hell!
I put my wee wee in your flower pot
I broke your flower pot
I cry..
I must die..
I have an ipod
You have more space in yours
I cry..
I can't die!
I must live!
But I must cry!

*repeat chorus

*holler at what year it is and your peoples

On another note I am the king of world! My life is complete! I have bought a new laptop cooler fan unit! It has three fans! Muthafucka did you read that it has 3! 3 fucking spinning ones! 3 fucking three, fucking thalatha, fucking &$5482o, fucking Le Tghee, fucking Ze TghEe. Yes.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007


I was gardening (wanking) the other day when I got to thinking. If god/chance(if you're a godless heathen) did not create orgasm, sex would be like playing a very good video game on ps2 with a girl or gender/species of your choice.

What would happen? usually when you play a very good game you can go on for hours until one of you gets bored. In certain cases only a few minutes after which the girl would realize she's simply not into it and just leaves you battering away at the beloved gamepad, alone, crying.

In a very hypnotic and enjoyable session you could be at it for days and days, stopping only for a few bites of the old potato chip or a sip of the icy soda. No need for a stop even, some would prefer multi-tasking. Do it keep dooinit until you both plunge into a slight coma.

I won't elaborate further as my train of thought can't travel too far as I'm not a jew.

All I'm saying is if you know my game, we could go on for seasons. And you'll stop only when I say so, beyotch. So if you want to be my game buddy (females only, I'm a PLT = People Like Them), call me at 0127553535.

Just kidding, I'm a virgin, I'm a loser, but damn it if I don't thank god for the big O.

Rectumus Optimus

As I'm sitting here facing the vast opportunities of the world, I feel as if intense pressure is rectuming my rectumus confidence. I need to take a shit. I'll return to you blog.

Ok here I am.

To my readers, all 2 of you, don't forget to visit an audio blog I was added into - Rogue Radio. I'm not allowed post my undying love for Take That there, but it's all good and shit.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Low 2.5 Spiralling Madness of Random Metal Objects

This is a continuation of a previous chapter to my novel entitled, Summer of Hope. This chapter, however, I dub, Spring of Forever.

Spring of Forever: Cunt
There I was sitting alone.

Cold plain water, cuddled inside my hand in its waning firmness.

What was to happen, was a number, conjoint with the very same number.

2-2 it says.

Urawa Reds ..2, Manchester United .......2
Fucking hell. This was good pre-season practice. Urawa Reds played like a low-ranked but determined EPL team. They defend well, might be a little bit sloppy in the passing department, but don't need too many players to cause the opposing keeper trouble. The type of teams Man Utd are very weak against. No new players fielded, boring. Whateva, hope there's some for the next one.

Spring of Forever: Doo
I realized the best time to listen to music while driving is after waking up during the night followed by a nice shower. What I mean is for an example - start sleeping at 8 and wake up around 10-11. Your mind is in this fragile state where every bit of the rythm affects you in a very pleasant way, as you might find yourself subconciously enjoying the music more than usual. This cannot be compared to the effects of the ganja of course. Not that I have tried it. Maybe I should one day try that shit in a digestive form. I can't really explain it. It's also quite dangerous as your mind is in a very passive state in terms of impulse, so drive at a very slow speed. I'm guessin' this phenomenon occurs because of a sluggish heart rate, I don't know, what the fuck do I know.

This is also, however, very different from sleeping at around 4-5 and waking up anytime during the night, most of the time around 7-8. This is madness, this is a brit pop ska band. Erm. Yes. In this instance, instead of a pleasant feeling you would normally get a lingering supressed headache, and total fuckup sense of logic. It's a thin line between Jimi Hendrix pleasant, and Fallout Boy supressed headache.

Spring of Forever: Pee
So there I stood, clad in my black leather jacket.

Oh black leather jackets, yet another substitute for testosterone, or a big genital.

There he was, in his own testosterone armour. Proud bearer of his posse's logo. Flames, skulls, bones, eagles, tigers, wolves, more flames - any other form of graphics tremble in fear at the sights of these, except maybe, a giant centipede.

Butterfly knife inside his tight grip. No object of any kind inside mine. Oh I will manipulate this napoleon-syndromed barbarian. I shall make him twist and turn anticipating a piercing of my flesh only for his devised agenda to crash and burn inside a deep deep ravine that he will never leave, and it, will never leave him.

And then I will fuck his girlfriend senseless while she shouts for help in a denial of pleasure. For it is with pleasure as my wingmen, I invade your body. I build an empire. And I anticipate a glorious celebration as you slowly but surely reject all denial and accept me as your master. Your master of pleasure.


you know there's this hot amongst common people tv series called manja lara about some phony fat chick. It's basically shite. But it's got quite a lotta cute malay actresses. There's this one that caught my mind. Nadia or suttin', strangely enough she was credited as babyfaralia, did she just use her former irc nickname as her stagename or is she some singer I don't know about seeing as the malaysian music industry is highly ignorable. I don't know. Is she really hot or was it just because of her slightly tanned skin. Or her slimy role as the obligatory evil but not too evil young malay slut. She is slimy. I wanna slime into her. Dayum. Dayum. Muthafucka Dayum.

Spring of Forever: Whore
Malaysia 0, Iran.. 2, and the Malaysians didn't play too bad either, plus this was fucking Iranians mind you, world class

The only Malaysian match I watched. I have concluded, the reasons we sucked so bad in this tourney are:

I didn't watch the other matches. If I did we would lose 1-2 to China, then shockingly win 1-0 against Uzbekistan.

We had far too many light-skinned players. It got me confused, I had to press info just to make sure this was a sports channel, for a few moments I thought I was watching an Astro Ria drama. Most of the players looked like actors. Not that the Iranian players didn't, but that's how most of their people look like. Where have all the payu baka people gone? The most kampung player was Shukor Adan, and he was a badass. He was a total badass. I remembered back when Malaysia had a minor peak in football with a marvellous team a few years ago doing well in the Tiger Cup, he was only a substitute defensive midfielder. How he has grown into a badass. His composure is unmalaysian. And at one point he tried to chip the iranian keeper, forcing the keeper to stretch his persian ass. Commentators were praising him like fuck.

Moving on.. did you see the indonesian team? It was made up of construction workers. Dark and kampung as hell indonesian construction workers. That's why they gave some of the tourney's favourites a hard time. Not that Indonesians don't have light skinned fucks, they have in abundance. But apparently after extensive research I found out that their footballing association automatically rejects any aspiring footballers who don't have access to mud nearby their housing estate, can't destroy someone else's soul through a stare, and don't look like construction workers. You do not fuck with Indonesian construction workers. I tells you. They are total badass. The presence of them alone inside our country has injected a high level of masculinity into our image as a whole. Come on. Don't fuck with them. One time I was driving around Cyberjaya and I just flipped inside my car then found myself in the back seat before flipping back to the front after I caught a glimpse of this dude who was on a ladder inside an unfinished walless building he was constructing, just a few centimetres from the edge. He was on the 4th floor. That's just the bottom feeder of scenarios. Don't ever fuck with these dudes. Don't ever stare at them while driving either. The type of situation they're in makes French free runners look like puppy eyed amateurs. Fucking hell.

We must train our players in paya bakaus. You know? In swamps, yes, in the hot sun, till they all look like construction workers. We should include orang asli and borneoans in the selection. You ever seen a borneo fuck play football? These fucks could be somewhere in the peninsula playing 5 matches back-to-back then walk back home to the borneo islands. Before resting for 5 minutes, then walking back to the peninsula to play another 5 matches back-to-back. They eat lizards and shit for supper, they have the stamina of gandalf's horse. We have to utilise all these options. Have the borneoeans play defence and defensive midfield, they'll run muthafuckaz off the pitch. Then an orang asli as the keeper, so he will use his magic to make the goal virtually impenetrable, letting a few goals in only as cover up. Indians also usually have massive strength and stamina, plus they run very fast tirelessly, we can have a few in fullback positions, or as wingers, they'll run the fuck up and down that flank like a mufucka. We'll have a chinese as a central midfielder, chinese people are usually very technical and sharp, so this guy will plan everything perfectly, he'll pass the ball around like riquelme. Then we'll have a few fanciful malay rempits in the attack, these muthafuckaz will use their flippedy skills to get through everything, they have excellent acceleration, imperious balance, and when needed that extra bit of flair, I mean did you really expect that dude to just lie down and let his helmet touch the road?. They will use their butt ugly exterior to fool the enemy and BzaMM! ..beautiful move, score. Like they usually do with chicks and fancy bike tricks. Infact, as strikers usually play the game facing the wrong side as they're always anticipating balls, rempits would be most perfect as strikers, as they're always facing oncoming traffic when executing their fancy tricks. Plus, the opposing defender trying to stop them will only fail as we all know rempits don't give a fuck about a red light. We'll have a few northern or town or city malaysian folks too though, light skins and all, in the subs bench. Having been exposed to too much breezy winds and air conditioners and shit. This particular crew will be responsible for distracting the enemy with their lovely complexion, petite malaysian exterior and Astro RIA drama actor faces, cause we all know everybody loves tight 7-year old girl asses.


Fuck it just ignore 1 and 2. We just simply suck. Seriously we need to consider making footballing a "mulia" (holy) career. Muthafuckers in the slums of ghetto ass brazil grow up wanting to wear a boot and kick balls. That's why they're good at it. Face it, we're not that cerebral. We're not that developed. We're not that modern. Fuck all that cat. Let's all walk the streets of KL city wearing fur fresh from a squirrel's ass. We shall all sing melodies of content. I am free from neckties and microsoft excel. Let's all just find a nice lady to be with till the end of time. And fuck her till the end of time. Fuck fuck fuck. Glass of water. Fuck again. Fuck Fuck Fuck. I love you baby. "Penetration is the ultimate condemnation of a condemned nation" - Fancy Name. Let's all make our female companions cover themselves with the Malaysian flag, as their only clothing. Then chase them all over the city. Let's all go to Port Dickson and clean up the beaches, put clorox in the water and watch as everything turns to haven. We shall have clear waters in Port Dickson. We will have filmakers shooting scenes there. Let's all encourage our footballers to sport thick moustaches. Shall we.

Spring of Forever: Five
High five!

I gave her one. We're friends and all. But she never knew what I felt for her. She often walks around the college with George of Famous Five in mind. There were rumours that she preferred her end of the field, that she liked to wet not spread, the hole, that she was an all out cunt licker. Confusion reigns. I don't know whether to feel sad or turned on by the stories my friends who invade diaries would tell. Should I one day sneak a hand inside her bag and read her daily musings. If I get caught there would be no more high fives, no more late night conversations on an unplanned drive to nowhere, no more debates about diving in modern day football. Or is she just like any other girl and will mellow down after a few months of relentless begging. Maybe I'm thinking too much. Maybe love can bend and mend sexual preferences. Maybe she's not a "scissor" sister afterall. There's nothing wrong with thinking too much, just if it is fueled by worriments.

My worries aside, at least I'm not the lead actor in Chasing Amy, at least I was prepared if she was to usher the prom queen downstage and french kiss. Fucking french people, with their croissants. How I would love to feed her my croissant. Rub the oil off onto her flesh. I always have the tendency to stray from my initial stream of imagination, I also tend to look on the bright side too much. I mean come on, worst-case scenario, at least she's just a dyke, not a tranny. But then again, am I that sure she isn't? Fuck, vagina confirmation needed, gotta get that diary.

Monday, July 16, 2007


Monday morning, though it's afternoon now after a little bit of work. Light head, q-tip ear fucking orgasmic, simple meal, cold plain water. Laptop at the service centre causing my ear to be infested with akon, gwen stefani, black eyed peas, etc as I sneak into this house's office room to borrow some desktop usage. laptop cd rom damaged, format needed, if format wasn't needed, laptop would still be here. No more heavy duty work to be done, thus laptop could be safely handed over to the service centre, to the hands of the malay female customer exec. who will pass it over to the chinese male technician. I am stereotyping in typing. I don't think I've ever been to taiping.

Saved enough money to buy a whopper of a desktop to play games. But I dunno. I'm a bad shopper, too hesitant to spend, bad spender. Bad shopper and spender. Too hesitant to spend, too naive to shop. Blame it on the maleness. According to this book "Stereotype" by "Stereotyper", males go straight to the shit, and grab it, females sift through a lot of shit, and grab it all. Shit grabbing. But some males have better female instinct then others. It's too hard to stereotype, so I'll monowrite. Never been on the KL monorail. Not yet. At least.

Enough money to buy a big pile of electronic shit that will allow me to play oblivion. As intended. As recorded in a previous entry. I'm hot for oblivion. A bit. Maybe I've lost the passion. I wouldn't know until I've tried. Still I'll need that BP of ES so that I could do the only work I want to do. Big pile of electronic shit, I want to excrete from you little pieces of melodic shit, one by one. You fucking cunts.

Monday afternoon. Very good weather. Mild. Cloudy, not gloomy. The instant urge to unlock the door, burst out naked followed by chants of doom anarchy slogans. No. Anyway, woke up at 4:40 AM to the sound of handphone organizer alarm, "brazil vs. argentina 4:50AM". I say fuck it I wanna sleep I can just check the result later. Later, on soccernet, "Brazil cruise to Copa glory". Thank god/chance I didn't force myself to watch that shit, I have a soft spot for Argentina. Maybe it's the colours, gay blue and white. Can't go wrong with that. Can't go wrong with maradona either. The god and goddess of 80s pop culture, maradona and madonna. The god of lazyness, some malay dude. I might be a demigod of some sort. He could give me command of some fort.

Oh god of lazyness, wielding the spear of done none, half human half gorilla, endorphins extravaganza, the perfect poster non sparta of peace, the mainstay of beds and dining tables, the preferer of moving film over books, the curator of minimalist movers, the... the cow dung of heaven's grassy knolls. The anti thesis of roles.

Thou shalt possess me.

Oh haven. Big living room. Electronic black box. Two tentacles. Moving colours. Stupid fucking games. You make my life worthwile, for a few hours. Until the man-made lights go on, cause the light from that big hot one sided testicle of fire is going off. I move in the night with a soundtrack. A munching pac man. Street burgers. Mmm. Oh vagina, help me.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Transformers : More Than Meets The Eye

I've been getting a lot of heat regarding my transformers review. These past few hours I've been plagued by calls, smses, emails, etcetra etceggha whateva. People are pissed. People are calling for my head. Just a few hours ago I was at the nearby 7E, some girl I don't know greeted me with a polite "hi! kawaai" before bashing me for dissing transformers.

Oh man, I can't even sleep. I silenced my handphone, they tried my house phone. I unplugged the house phone, they rung the doorbell. I smashed the doorbell, they knocked the door. I slept at my friend's house, turns out I owed this particular dude 10 plus bucks for a movie ticket. I escaped his house and slept alone at a bus stand, they appeared in my dreams with chainsaws and shit. Fuckin' 'ell. I heard around 46 transformers puritans were killed in KL by action movie lovers yesterday alone, now they're targetting the puritans' symphatizers. People like me. What trauma. Sun Ra yelling preaching in my left ear "watchu gon' dooooo, bout yow ASSSSSSSSSS?".

So I've decided to make peace, I gathered them all around a football field and explained that I only dissed mainly two things - the robot's design and the stupid pointless action scenes (which is dumbness on my part as what'd you expect? it's michael fucking armageddon bay). And so I listed out everything else good about the movie to them. I also had to admit that at least the female was hot. Well she was not THAT hot, she had bad skin, she's aight tho, I'D HIT IT ANYTIME DAWG. Though not as hot as April in TMNT old cartoons, fuck anything to escape a gangbang murder. Although I didn't mean all of it, anything as long as me getting maimed by a bunch of fuckos is avoided. At least some of them bought their children with them, maybe the movie was 25% a piece of shit, but if children loved it, who gives a fuck, it will all benefit the greater good of Hasbro.

And so as they slowly and zombie-ly left the ground, I shouted "SYKEEEEEE!!!" wkauugeauhga and then ran for my life.

I ran into the city, and into an underground highway where the puritans gathered, they call themselves G1ANAL Collective. I need their protection. They were not just content with staying still as flash floods could occur at any time. So they started devouring energon cubes acquired from a mystery chinese meal restaurant. And all of them somehow started transforming into giant square robots. Some of the cooler ones did not have a MOUTH. A few had really cool EQ'd voices. One in particular had an ultra annoying voice. They all flew up onto the surface and transformed into nationally made cars - Proton and Perodua.

The enemies are in sight, they themselves transformed.. into random shit with wires and shit, some of them even had teeth, god knows the fuck for. Some had roller blades. Some shoot guns while doing freestyle gymnast sequences full of physical strength, flexibility, balance, endurance, gracefulness, and creativity. It was chaotic. It was a big riot. Bricks were thrown into the windows of BATA shops. Cameramans were everywhere on roller blades falling down and jumping about randomly. I got fed up and told everyone to shut the fuck up. And then the Iron Giant came and destroyed all the shit. The End.

I watched Iron Giant around last week or the week before that, or maybe the week before the week before that, can't be too sure. I nearly pissed my eye. Well I did, actually. It was beautiful. On some when you were a kid watchin' classic disney movies beautiful. You can never go wrong with giant robots. Sigh.

Static Images - Adulthood - Static Images - Inburst

Listening continuously to The Clash's train in vain, did you stand by me? no not at alllllll, did you stand by me? noo wayy lalala. I dedicate the song to this girl I hate and love, I don't know much about you or me about you, you live near the zoo. I dedicate me listening to the song to this other girl who likes this song too, I don't know much about you or me about you, you live near nothing. I dedicate me blogging to this girl who is like my big sister, although if she really was I would've touched the big knockers by now. I don't know. Wkahgeugawkuhga.

I finally watched Mukhsin, a film made by someone people say is not really a women, thus is hated by everyone cause she's/he's a heathen and will be burned in hell by devils and such. What a pity, she's quite a good filmmaker. However I always delay watching her movies, well at least I have the interest, right. I've missed a lot of independent local movies which got attention outside this country but fuck all here cause they don't have some dude wearing a bandana riding a harley. They didn't have a bunch of people talking in funny malay accents + vocabulary that everyone ditched outside bm classes either.

I watched Sepet on a very bad vcd, yet managed to enjoy it. I watched Gubra in the airplane, enjoyed it too. I love storylines but these films don't really have much of a storyline - I can still dig it. It's more about a place, situations, characters. Some films are like that, they are still enjoyable. I could even say this particular director is like our (malay people) very own Spike Lee albeit a more subtle and minimalist version. Like a lot of good malay directors, there's a lotta fucked up shit about our race affecting her.

The films are to me basically comedy. They're funny. Not the sort of dumbfucking humour you get in generic malay films, it's the sort of humour probably extracted from your funny malay uncle or something. The funnies are so familiar and endearing.

Oh yeah I enjoyed Mukhsin too. Like I said, no interesting storyline, just a place, situations, characters. Kinda like League of Gentlemen. Haha. Not a good comparison but whateva. It's kinda like this other movie I watched last year - I think it was titled My First Love or suttin'. A thai movie, I liked the indo dubbed version prolly cause'a'tha familiarity. But My First Love was way more emotional, I pissed my eye. The big similarity was it reminded me of my own childhood. This entry is basically an excuse to reminisce a bit about my childhood. This is the story of my childhood (read in a narrative manner - pan inspirational hip hop music ala wu tang clan. haha). Enter opening credits. End opening credits. Start the shit..

Most of my childhood was spent in a residence nearby Seremban town (My grandparents' house and also my parents' old house nearby). It was a magical place. Irony. It was situated in between a golf course and a small kampung with wooden houses and shit. I did everything they did in Mukhsin and more. But because of the half modern half kampung shit going on you could say I basically played galah panjang one day, stole golf balls the other. Climbed rambutan trees one day, visited my friend who has an "advanced" pc with cool games equipped with photostated walkthroughs the other. Flew my green incredible hulk kite one day, worried my grandma and parents by dissapearing one morning - in my friend's house watching VCR the other. Rode the bicycle everywhere around the kampung and other kampungs one day (one particular journey ended up with me bringing a small plastic aquarium of tadpoles home, idiot), bought by a neighbour to the golf club's swimming pool the other. Haha. You get the idea, bitch.

You could say it was a transition period between old typa childhood and new typa childhood. You still had the creativity and flair of old "seasonal" kid activities, but the modern day shit was looming. You had modern day toys, but not enough to spur you away from the traditional games.

When I was way littler my late grandad spoiled me as I was the first grandchild - which would be the only time I got spoiled as a human thus we had a special bond. I don't remember much but everything recalled by my grandma and my parents who were always there in my life were quite funny. Like how obsessed he would get over everything about me, especially since my parents moved a lot. He fed me good and lied to my mom "alah satu vitagen je sehari", "alah seminggu sekali je kfc mashed potato" - 6 a day, 1 a day. Haha. He would do anything to travel and be where my parents are and if he couldn't would at least send a picture of him and my grandma with my birthday cake. He stayed with me at Kelantan one time where my dad worked as a lecturer. Kubang Kerian turned out to be where me grandad spent his last days. The last breath was beside me, our routine afternoon sleep after doing tiring shit like clearing out the front lawn. Last words were him turning to me before sleeping, muttering I love you so much or something like that, I remembered telling my grandma and parents what he said when I was at that age, but never quite remembered exactly what it was later on in life, my grandma never forgot.

I didn't cry during the funeral, I was quite tough as a kid, I remembered not crying or batting an eyelid when my dad prolly practiced injecting vaccines on me, blood and those whitey liquids spewing everywhere wahgukeaakhga. I remembered not giving a fuck when I was about to be circumcised unlike other kids. Maybe I was a late bloomer in developing emotions, or was just not too good at expressing it. One particular raya, my closest cousin said if grandad was still alive he'd be smoking cigarettes with him (I think only me, him and my sister amongst my cousins got to see him before he died), fuck if he was still alive I would prolly be smoking with them. Outside the nearby 7E. The women are at home watching astro ria sighing with relief that our men's days of renting wrestling vcrs every raya is over or that mamaks show football matches nowadays. Maybe I'll see him in heaven. He is there I'm sure, I'm not sure what type of person he is during most of his life - probably a typical dude from the p. ramlee era where malays are more westernized and not so anal. He likes to go hunting and shit. He had a frozen creature I used to carry on my bike throughout my later childhood scaring random gurlkids (despite occasionally impressing the cuter ones by riding on the bike standing up ala rempit going down hills and nearly being in accidents), that was me not being able to let go of my beloved granddad. Whatever it is I'm sure he's in heaven, if not for him not being evil, for my dad being a very very good son.

His best friend was our neighbour. I've never seen this particular man, he was already gone when I was born. But later on in my childhood his wife became my 3rd grandma (and my mom's best friend - gossip folks). She was a bit strange, she was always happy and smiling. Always knows what to say or do. She was almost like an angel, I'm not being corny I'm serious dawg. I used to go up her house every morning and spent the whole day there. Going home only to devour my grandmas extra sedap cooking. The best days are sundays. In her home watching michael jackson videos. My first favourite pop star. Later on in the day watching movies starring my favourite actor Faizal Hussein. The duller days are weekdays. In her home watching search videos, wondering who isabella is. My only favourite food is ayam merah as far as I can remember. But she made a few things my favourite delicacies - karipap and teh (not tea, those teh that usually nowadays can be found at mamaks). We conversated a lot, you know how kids are, talkative and shit. She was the shiznit! The youngsters (then) and gossiping moms loved to hang out at her house. I loved eavesdropping the moms' gossippings. I hated getting picked on by the youngsters usually her offsprings or neighbours.

Later on in life I started going there less, too macho. But still had her in mind. Always pictured the day I'm married and making my wife meet her. Too late. She's already gone. A few years ago, me in my rented house, peeing my eyes in a sleeping bag avoiding housemates.

I also had another kampung, my mom's side. This was hardcore kampung. Not too far from Seremban - Pedas, but still kampung, hardcore. You can refer to your geography or was it history books it was listed as one of those places with a hot spring. My mom has 12 siblings. Shitloads of cousins, nephews and now grandnephews + grandernephews. Phew. Never met this side's grandad, but he was all that is alpha male I'm sure. Had land everywhere. His main house is a big ass land with houses of three sizes - big, medium and small - now all my mom's as she's the youngest, minang traditions and all (who's laidback so she shares with her sisters or cousins). He was the shit. Back when my fam frequently went back to hometowns I would go there frequently too. Just the weekends. Usually playing army in the sand with my this side's cousin. Just playing around with the other cousins. A lot of drama. But not too involved. There was like so many people in this side's family. But it was a very jolly family with cool nogoghi accents. It was fun. You guys are prolly jealous as fuck with my childhood. It's the shit innit? Haha. Both sides of the family bringing different types of fun. Hahu. Mm. I did get to meet the late grandma of this side though. She's also something, laidback like my mom. Cool as fuck. I've heard cool tales from my mom about both her parents. I didn't know this side's grandma that well though, I was very little when she was around, and still a kid when she died.

Memories. My parents were laidback, my heroes. My sisters are laidback. My whole big extended family, laidback. We had some drama, not that much. But most of us are laidback peoples. I used to annoy them a lot. I'm still annoying as a person. But life after childhood sucks just because you had such a great one. Not fair to all your friends with bad childhood. So life does not suck, except by comparison. Nostalgia is a muthafuckah.

Back to the movie review. This movie, Mukhsin, liked the rest in its trilogy, featured a lotta impossibly too good to be true characters. It's more life than film. Prepare yourself not to watch developments of characters and events over a period of time, but a passive viewing of life somewhere frozen in a period of time. Not just about the love story of two kids, but their parents, neighbours too. The parents, especially, like the older depiction in Sepet, impossibly romantic + funny. This particular family and the maid, is this what malays should generally be? I know this is what some malays are and some malays could be. We are a race not made to be anal. We are made to be laidback. What the fuck happened. Can a film director with a history of heartwarming tales affect at least a few of us? I don't know, fuck you questions. Other than all that I have wrote, I would just like to say, great locations - beautiful, great camerawork.

I remembered reading an opposition's party publication with a religious person dissing Gubra (anutha movie from tranny director if you didn't follow) for promoting "liberal Islam" (whatever this means). Okay whateveah. Then he goes on to use P. Ramlee movies as an example to oppose the idea brought forth by tranny director. Whut? Has RTM been showing P. Ramlee movies without stoners walking around kampungs and shit, jazz artists having a troubled life, gangsters getting drunk, or a muthafucka killing his scandalous wife while she's clad in her undies in the bed? What's up witchu dawg? P. Ramlee was hardcore. He was only human. He was one of the last non anal malays. Smoking ganja plants and shit. P. Ramlee was way more hardcore than tranny or any other directors still with his cool spirit with them. Argh. Should I publish this post? Fuck it.

Maybe the westerners shouldn't have left us too early. I know we're basically still colonised by them, but not culturally, we're culturally fucked. Stuck in between glorifying the wrong and hazy side of Islamic teachings and acquiring the chosen race attitude of the arabs. Sometimes we glorify rules that don't even have a concrete base in Islamic scriptures, yet are quick to dismiss shit that has. What the fuck is wrong with humans. Fucking hell. If nowadays, being laidback requires a bit of sin to you fuckers, maybe a bit of sin is not so bad after all. I'm sorry for the sudden outburst, but living in a fucked up society will do this to you. You can't escape it, in the politicians struggling to speak official b.m clad-news, in the strange accent-slang speaking characters + comedyless slapstick humour + token other races characters promoting plastic diversity + malays living lavishly in stupid love triangles + bla bla bla films, in the cheap sensational headline mongering tabloids, in the one-race specific conversations full of usually disclosed hate, in in in in in jebaow.

Monday, July 09, 2007

Music Music Music

Last night I went to Paris. I stayed in a hotel. Hilton. My stomach is hurting right now god knows why. I went to Low Yatt and Sg. Wang, there's hardly any pirates. There are a lot in Digital Mall and Jaya but not too many game sellers. Yeah dawg. I have been watching a lotta movies. Let me see what me thinks of dem. Punani me killa go huntin'.

Black Snake Moan
This was aight. Yeah, it was aight. Samuel L. Jackson curing a nympho. Yeah, it was aight.

Hot Fuzz
This was aight too. It was aight. Yeah, it was. It spoofed modern action movies. I probably didn't like it that much cause I hate modern action movies and spoofing action movies involved - yes - scenes that look like modern action movies.

Well, at least it wasn't the gay piece of shit 300 was. I went to watch this with a little hope, and if I had one thing positive to say the hope only ended once the robots started fighting each other and causing a massive headache only achievable through staring closely at random moving pieces of metal shit.

..Or was it when Optimus Prime arrived which gave me around half a minute of nostalgia goosebumps (despite the gay-ass flame bullshit) before he started talking and the camera closes up to his MOUTH. Fuck that shit. I would love to mouth fuck Optimus Prime out of spite.

No I'm not a purist, I don't even remember which robot is which that much, never had a toy myself, I just used to watch the series a lot as a kid .I loved the animation movie too but even that movie changed a lot from the series which was the first love (I don't read comics except for shallow shit like Juara Wira). They had a gay-ass 80's soundtrack (while the series had a mean as fuck one done by elfman), a pink female robot, and a successor to all-that-is-alphamale Optimus Prime named RODimus prime. Gay. But it still rocked cause it also had a lot of other cooler things and, and it kept the cool robot designs. I still cried when I was a child.

I had my first heartbreak when Optimus died. My first orgasm when Galvatron was formed. And my fundie hatred towards homosexuality mildly tamed when my favourite robot Soundwave reunited with his master who has upgraded into a fucking cannon.

I don't mind change, but this was ugly change. They had really cool ass cgs but the designs were urgkhhh. Fucking hell.

I did expect the action scenes to be total random shaky "action" fuckedit shit seeing as this is michael bay and he could've just put a black screen saying "some shit happened" fadeout.. another black screen "some bullshit happened and the good guys kinda won" and I wouldn't complain cause it would've fared better with my fragile brain. But he could've at least hired better designers, like what the fuck? roller-blading decepticons, very masculine, I couldn't tell the difference between all of the decepticons too, the tiny bit of Megatron and Starscream banter was as if some dude punched-in that shit from the sky cause I don't brrfS ckbhA arkuhhkugg fuck this shit I hate it.

Don't tell me aliens aliens bla bla cause who the fuck here has seen a fucking alien? fuck you.

However the movie did start out very well, it had a lot of humour, some romantic bits. It would've fared better as a romantic comedy, it made me laugh more than serendipileofshitty could ever do that's for sure.

And the only exception to the ugliness or irrelevantness of the robots would be bumblebee. I hated the cartoon one. I kinda liked this movie one. Probably because he didn't get to talk most of the time.

Jazz, one of the coolest autobots cause he's got soul, the only black autobot, died for no reason at all in the hands of Megatron. Probably cause he brokedance and tried to do impressions of a wigga when he introduced himself. Shitty. However I'm very sure Megatron is a negro himself. Although based on this movie's design I could only say he probably was a negro before he stuck random pieces of metal to his body and then it decomposed and made more random shapes and then somgeiaohnv akuhfahuk hukahappened and fuck this shit.

Just edit out that bullshit towards the end and insert romantic comedy and I might be happy. I don't know.

I mean when I got home and started browsing reviews, I thought Ebert had lost it when he gave 3 stars, but after further reading I thought he was totally on point about the action scenes:-

    "I saw the movie on the largest screen in our nearest multiplex. It was standing room only, and hundreds were turned away. Even the name of Hasbro, maker of the Transformers toys, was cheered during the titles, and the audience laughed and applauded and loved all the human parts and the opening comedy. But when the battle of the titans began, a curious thing happened. The theater fell dead silent. No cheers. No reaction whether Optimus Prime or Megatron was on top. No nothing. I looked around and saw only passive faces looking at the screen." - Roger Ebert

I know a lot of people loved it and would be more than willing to bash the purists. But come on, seriously, one of the things that rocked anuses about transformers were the robots' designs, and the designs in this one, sucked a lot of fucking ass. So fuck you. And what the fuck is totally up with shaky headachy action scenes, what's the fucking point, I'd rather watch that colour trippy shit in 2001: a space odyssey. At least it was meant to fuck you up. You cunts.

Oh yeah. Soundwave was not in it (not too sad cause it would've been sadder if he was, which could make me avoid the second installment unless it was directed by my fantasy), the CIKASKsdajifhaa robot transforming sound was not in it, coolness was definitely missing too (yeah dawg, roller blading robots? robots gymnast-gay-flipping and shooting). I don't know maybe Michael Bay wanted to create new trademarks for his franchise. He forgot that he was Michael bay.

Adkauhghkua. I can't start on the humans cause they were not too bad actually, except maybe for the impossibly heroic soldiers, ha-ha, you nearly got me fooled americans, fuck you. The only cool part in the movie was - Optimus Prime's voice (original voice actor), and when megatron went something like "disgusting bla bla" after falling to the ground then kicking a random human passer-boy - wahkugeakuhukga that was cool and funny.


Shit. I only watched three movies. Fuck. Whateva. Maybe I was under the illusion I have watched quite a lot cause I bought and acquired-through-friends quite a lot. Need to start fucking actually watching.