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oh gosh, i didn't fucking it do it!

(Friday, January 27, 2006)
it was the one armed man.

like bugs are attracted to lights, i'm obsessed with moving things that's trapped in a cube. anything at all. like every morning when i get the fuck outta my bed, i root my ass down in front of my computer and watch some pornography. or sometimes when i'm not in the mood, i'll watch mtv or some basketball video or some girl giving a lucky bloke lap dance. when you do that in the morning, it just offers a certain inner-peace that doesn't come elsewhere.

yes yes, tom, dick, harry, pam or paris has peace of some sort when they're watching porn but mine's not limited to that. you can just take away my monitor to television and replace it with an aquarium full of fishes (that moves) and i'll still be as happy. the view of having something strolling about the cube feels so good.

no, i'm not high on weed. or alcohol. just that i think it's cool to see things moving.

alright that statement wasn't downright convincing whatsoever.

oh my point is, wouldn't a 42-inch plasma tele makes porn so much better?


11:51 AM


glad is a four letter word.

(Tuesday, January 24, 2006)
the office connection is as fucked as jenna jameson on her casual porno routine. it gets fucked in three ways and there's still more to come. which explains the lack of posts lately. an i can't shit anything out from my head when i really need to do it, 3 hours and i wrote merely 2 sentences with less than 10 words. then i slammed my face on the table. talk about anger management.

the good news is, broadband internet might probably be elusive for the next 2 years. i got it right the first time, not 2 months or 2 weeks, it's 2 fucking years. that's malaysia's telco company for you. the supreme lack of performance is their motto, their reason to be here. they're not fucktarts, just a little slower in reaction.

chinese new year is around the corner! the week of noisy relatives crushing into the house, unliberal use of colour red in fashion, parades with gold jewelries, loud bangs of fire crackers, angpau angpau angpau and everything chinese. and i love every fucking bit of it. i mean every fucking bit. except for the part where my relatives have little children. well, that can be ignored. i can just imagine them little girls 10 years from now. fuck all. anyone who thinks visiting my house will contribute to your college or retirement fund, you may just fuck off then. the rate's 1.10. if you steal the bucket of fortune cookies and the crate of beer, it'll be about 100 bucks. that is if you can elude the rottweiler. and the killer pussy vanessa.


10:23 AM


rape me.

(Tuesday, January 17, 2006)
Notice: if you're rich, (like millionaire rich, not sperm rich) and you happen to stumble upon this journal of mine, i've got a once in a lifetime offer for you. all you need to go is to get me a iMac G5 and i'll let you bugger me silly. i'll settle for a apple powerbook too, mind you.

yeah, i was at the deutsche's princess' house. the mac was more than provoking. it's like having pamela anderson in the skimpiest transparent lingerie she can find in the same room but you can't have sex with her. or touch her. or jerk off cause they tied you up. and the bloody (not literally) princess was showing off with her remote control for the mac and all. then the camera, then the new iTunes, then her library of songs. that bitch.

Notice #2: if you don't happen to be rich and still want to bugger me silly, there's an alternative. with the sufficient amount of experience in larceny, you can still do so. call me. any given sunday. i've got a little something something for your yellow/white/black/green ass.

***

whops, the phones are ringing again. will be back.

blogging sucks. in the office at least. i won't be back. i mean today.


9:37 AM


dogma of doggy style.

(Thursday, January 12, 2006)
the new place doesn't have broadband internet. nor does it have a telephone line.

so every minute i'm home it feels like i can hear the clock's second indicator ticking every so silently. tick...tock...tick...tock, you get the idea. after two days assult commenced by micro-volume tick-tocking at home (the effect is rather in the head), i hate to admit the internet withdrawal has only touched the surface.

somehow, it's safe to say being addicted to internet is better than being addicted to drugs but the outcomes have their similarities; lost of social life, depature from the real world, profound need for an alternate world, obesity and others. but it's not really. an addiction is an addiction. the big trouble is, i can't really recall what i used to do when i'm not online everynight, navigating through oceans of webpages and showering pornography with attention. in hollywood, the parallel would be movies where the hero has a problem remembering their past then starts shooting around CIA, FBI, SEAL, navy, mafia, neighbour daughter, kids, your mama to retrieve answers for his paranormal state of memory. normally, with enough magazines of bullets and a substantial amount of violence, things would turn out fine for him. but i can't kick shoot my way into the telco company as much as i love to.

so for the next few months, there's nothing more to do than to resort myself in doing real things i've abandoned since ice-age instead of craving for a virtual harmony. see some real people, take some real drinks, rake some real girls from a real bar and if possible, have some real obscene sex with real girls with real big tits. there must 2 billions girls out there who's desperate to have sex because the men pagan themselves to the internet and pornograhpy and other men. a total social massacre if i ask me.

after my segregation with the sine qua non of my life, the bloody internet, life has become less stagnant. interesting ingredients to a life less ordinary are given a rare chance to shine effortlessly in the absence of ineffable internet. hell, tonight i'm participating in a cult to dispose all those little fragile indelible fucking kids and tomorrow i'm leaving for my beach house. sometimes, things we love just poison us into an object for their expanse. it's not really an abstruse, we just firmly believe there's nothing better out there. there was is something better. for one, i don't want to be labelled as a computer geek, eh joyce?


11:53 AM


the sex manual//god of swine.

(Sunday, January 08, 2006)
isn't the title an attention whore.

chinese new year is near.

we're having our annual dinner soon. you know the drill.

vacation vacation vacation.

starting from tomorrow, i'll reside permenantly on a new place.

and every now and then, a great movie comes into play like a messiah. it will be remembered and talked about till the end of the century, and next century too. a clockwork orange is a work of the same repertoire.

i'm pulling the plug.

the telco company is still a bitch.


12:36 AM


ariel is a cocksucking fucktart.

(Thursday, January 05, 2006)
not that i really know who ariel is. but saying something vulgar makes me feel immensely cheerful at this time of the day. fucktart. see, it's really something.

the telecom company just fucked me in the ass hard. with a torny shovel. without lubricant. you got the idea...so to say, yesterday i went to the telco office today to relocate my phone/broadband line to my new place. them fuckers just shoved me a form and said, 'fill this shit up, and you're all good'. blow me you piece of ignorant rubber dick muthafuck! it's never like that. there's a always a medieval sort of catch-22 to all the government/semi-government bureaucracy. first they tell you it's all fine, there's only this form you need to fill in. then they need more supporting documents. then they tell you there's more forms to fill up. they need your wife's pussy length, your dick's diameter. all that fucking gibberish goes on and on. i suspect these assholes are reincarnated staff of a torture chamber back in the renaissance age. 'tormenting innocent law-abiding civilians'. you can see that sentence in their job application resume.

anyway, bureaucracy maze is sort of like a familiar ground for me; you have no idea how many times i got ushered around for no particular reasons because of these ignorant sons of a bitches. so i took a fucking number, waited for 45 minutes with a old indian man whose arse is too big for one chair and a HOOD of self-whoring kiddos. then ask them what is really needed. due to misfortuned track records, i asked the fucking bitch to write everything down, including her name and signature. then i told her, if there's anything missing, i'll fucking file a complain and burn her not-so-fine ass. then that ass licking bitch comes out with another list of things that 'Sir, MIGHT need to do'. the catch-22. the muthafucking answer to the riddle. the way around confusion.

there you go. bureaucracy at it's top form.

although i didn't get fucked in the ass by the telco labyrinth, it'll take them 3 fucking sodomizing weeks to re-enate my broadband facilities in the new place. there's always a catch-22. no matter how fucking good you are, they will always find a route up your sweet ass. way to go.


10:05 AM


short one.

(Monday, January 02, 2006)
there were bloody plenty of people the streets to celebrate the new year? the hunchback or notredame, the bigfoot, the lochness, mermaids, vampires and every other eccentric muthafucka came out to register themselves as phedophiles to celebrate the birth of the new year.


a lochness. or was it a mermaid.

i had a great new year's eve party, despite we were adventurous enough to survery 4 fucking places before we settled for boathouse, which was the first place i intended to go.

Happy New Year, and i hope you got so fucking drunk on the eve, you woke up with a trannie on your bed.

***

oh, i'll take my break from blogging for a bit, it might probably stretches till' about next week. or at least until i get my things sorted out, i'm shifting to a new place. anyone who wants to see me, i'll be over the deutshe princess' castle's front yard, subang, camping. if you want to see me, please bring a chair and some canned food for me. because i'm having an affair with her new roomate, ashley (shut up, kimberly! her name IS ashley). all the bags are packed and i'll shift over as soon after her roomate settle down. blogging activity will resume as before once ashley is overfucked.

please call if you want to help me set up my camp.


5:07 PM


that fucking traitor

liEw, 18 and since 2002, 270lbs, 5ft, brazilian chinese russian icelander hybrid, black eyes, short black hair, racist, antisocial, semi-alcoholic, ignorant, exhales profanity, black-poetry fanatic

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