It just gets to me that people now don't understand the true meaning of entertainment. Just recently, Malaysia banned a rocker for taking off his shirt on a live telecast. Maybe he overdid it. And to most it was not very kosher. Taking into perspective of the fact that our society frowns upon almost lewd acts upon live audiences, it still doesn't explain much why Faizal Tahir deserve a 3-month ban from all live telecasts.
So what? The guy bares his chest in front of millions of people. It's not as if he showed any pubic hair. Are they going to ban all forms of entertain where a man bares his chest? Sadly the censors proved it to be enough to lay him down with such a sentence.
What a bunch of prunes. What a group of maroons. And most of all, what a bunch of crap.
If you ask me, Faizal is passionate about his music. Not latino-like by the way. There's love and there's passion with too much sauce in your burrrrriito.. It's the passion where one gets off on a high brought about by his music not from how much his boner bulges from his tight leather pants.
In a press interview, one reporter actually had the audacity to ask if whether he was stoned or drunk. Right, how good of a reporter if you had to ask that. I mean if you were drunk and the police stopped you over for dangerous driving you still wouldn't tell them straight off that you had a bottle of smirnoff before. Plain stupid question to ask or just plain stupidity on that reporter's behalf.
Regardless of what happened to Faizal Tahir, it was good to see a change in the music scene. No longer do ballads dominate the masses. No longer do you have to hear another ballad winning another award. Rock is making a comeback. Its too much love on the airways nowadays that's enough to make me gag and vomit my own spleen. Put in a spanish guitar solo, a wailing twit going own about how his heart is caught in the carnage of some beautiful girl that used it for toilet paper and an audience that think they can relate to what he is going through and you have an instant crooning hit. Fuck that.
Here's why I listen to rock. Real rockers sing their hearts and minds out without trying to be some suave, hispanic wannabe horndog. They tell you exactly what happens and does not compare the beauty of someone to any celestial body without sounding gay i.e enter James (needs a hooker badly) Blunt. And its not even about the looks. They don't go around adding some corny line like "do you know what it feels like" and then for much of the video it focuses on his facial features or in some cases how a certain feature has been removed i.e. enter Enrique (look, no mole) Igleawhatsisface. And some wear make up. Like lip gloss which I find disturbing on a man singing a ballad. Which makes you wonder if underneath that manly exterior is a corset loving, thong-wearing transvestite. Now you may say something about Marilyn Manson and his affinity for cosmetics. All I can say is that he's a freak and it goes well with his music and with his devil-worshipping. Plus he does not wear shiny lipstick. Just freaky combinations of foundation and mascara.
Most rock songs are about life and it's harsh reality. And you feel that through every song. Ballads are so overdone and such cliches. Love won't conquer all. In any case it makes you delusional of what you cant have.
At least that's what i think.
I have a headache. I blogged because I can. On a very most interesting note, i found two websites worth checking out. One is http://www.gua.com.my and the other is http://batdude.blogspot.com. Check it out for yourself. It's worth it. Besides, gua.com.my has a couple of online series that is worth checking out. I wish my neighbour's got wifi. Then I wont have to post via mobile.
P.S: I want Maya Karin. She is hot. Hot would be an understatement. If looks could kill, she would be Death on the finest set of legs. I kid you not my friends.
Good nite numbnuts.
So i was watching the news on our local (yes, a very local tv.) channel and i noticed something totally absurd. They had this pop-ish tune in the background as they read the headlines of the recent demise of a well-known politician.
Tell me if that's not stupid.
Someone died, ok? Not as if it's happy news. The montage in the background is wrong. It's like telling someone that you killed their daughter in the form of singing telegram. I mean if you're going to put something in the background at least have it inspired with a little sense of urgency and something less chirpy.
Its the NEWS!!
Make it sound like the news, not the opening to Sesame Street. There's no such thing as good news. Its always bad, bad and more bad news. I mean we don't actually live in heaven. And even if this is heaven, bad news would sound like...
"Ummm... God, there's a slight problem. Lucifer and his minions have just arrived at the gates of Heaven and they're taking it off its hinges. No, we can't do anything. Apparently, Hell's population is 10 times as much as ours."
By the way, this is like my 70th post in the past twelve months or so. That's more than I can say for most bloggers I know. I'm not pointing any fingers but if your shit stinks, it's probably you. Along the way my blogging has actually gone downhill, my chatbox violated and I've seen people comment on my posts and then disappear. To where you ask? Well, I didn't do it and that shovel's not mine.
Before I end this post and spend the rest my life in probable solitary confinement, let's play a little game. After you read this, post in my tagbox the word 'duct-tape'. If you don't, hopefully you'll look like Firdaus' vagina. Yes, he's a she. I accidentally saw his camel-toe. There was a slight upskirt incident awhile back and some of my hostel mates also caught an accidental glimpse of his/her nether valleys. Talk about pure poison. Post 'duct-tape' or be cursed to look like Fir's cunt.
Good night everyone.
Hey you!!!
Yeah, you!!! You there, reading this, staring blankly at this screen.
Has anyone ever told you how delectable you look today? How each and every stride you swing is a savoury delight to watch? You look practically scrumptious. A delectable piece of human perfection. A savory specimen of your species...
Dammit!!!!!
I'm so hungry I could eat a horse and the rest of the stable. But I don't wanna eat. Eating makes me heavy and my knees can't take anymore excess weight. With the lack of strenuous activities these past few weeks, it would be impossible for me to lose any weight.
But if I could go out and buy food right now, I would definitely go for something chocolate-y and creamy and in a bun or something. That or a burger. I've been craving for a beef burger.
Must get my mind off of food.
You know what sucks? It’s the way computer games are made. I think they taunt you and then they give you what you want but in the end, just at the end, they dangle it in front of you, just within your grasp. But right before you reach for it, the game flying-dragon kicks you in the face and then goes straight for your balls, taking a hold of your scrotum with a great kung-fu grip.
Paloi right?!? Just when you see this glimmer of hope, this light at the end of the tunnel, at that last moment when you think you are in the clear and about to win, it screws you over big time. And I’m talking about colossal screwing.
I’m going to be very vague in this here post. Why? Because I feel like I want to be very vague tonight. I’ve never done vague. Or vogue. Or vase. Or Vaseline… WHERE IS ALL THIS HEADING TO?!?
*sigh*
I better go before I write more rubbish than usual. Good Night assholes… Hahahahhahahahahah Didn’t see that one coming huh? New game: If you don’t tag in my cbox after reading this, you are an asshole. You will walk around looking like an asshole and feeling like the opening of someone else’s ass. Everyone else looking at you will feel the same way too and see what you see in the mirror – an opening into your own rectum. Hence, asshole, should you not choose to tag, you are an asshole. Hahahahahhah I love this. Good night, asshole.
I wonder what kind of karma pornstars have.
Yeah, the most random stream of thoughts ever.
Obviously, there are perks as one, right? But its just so weird how'd you go about telling people what you do for a living if you were in the adult industry.
"Hi, I am an architect. I design buildings."
"Hi, I am a civil engineer. I help to keep those buildings erect."
"Hello, I do porn for a living. I was designed for an erection."
Some of us out there are at awe of the strenuous efforts that these professionals have put into each and every shot. Some of us might even be disgusted at what they do for a living. And some drug manufacturers are actually smiling at the fact that a pornstar's promiscuous ways help to put food on their tables. I for one am baffled to say the very least at how you go about and act your way into a skin flick.
How do you even interview for it?
I mean if you are a fresh college graduate with some sort of degree just off an amazingly positive interview, the conversation with your parents would sound something like,
"I was really impressive today. They said I had vision and they liked the ideas that I had. I think I totally nailed it!"
Can you even imagine how the conversation between a soon-to-be pornstar and his parents over the phone sound like?
"Hey mom, I nailed some girl today and got caught on video doing it and next thing I know some film producer offered me some contract to do a few skin flicks... It was awesome. They said I had an impressive package...
Yeah, I'm in porn now."
*mom hangs up. Dial tone audible*
"Hello? Mom?"
For some people, consentual sex without paying or getting paid for it, is the pinnacle of their bachelor life. You know how when you watch movies and in it there's this guy that's bragging about how awesome his sexual encounter was the night before and he tells his friends just how wicked it was? A pornstar would probably be telling his friends how exhausting this one shot was because his co-star kept messing up a scene and they had to do the same position over and over again and then he'd probably end it off with some note of wisdom like "a libido is only as big as the size of your scrotum, my friends. Sex is a fiend and not a friend after that."
I need sleep. Or a life. This is just so badong. So bad and so wrong at the same time. I hereby need to clarify that I at this very moment am not watching any pornographic video or in possession of any sexually stimulating material. I was watching "Ripley's Believe It or Not!" and wondered why Dean Cain awkwardly reminds me of pornstars. And at the utter disgrace of my own revelation, I turned off the television. That is all.
Good night.
Wouldn't it be nice if the things that we wear day in, day out, didn't exist? The need to completely drape ourselves in something that is visually accepting to the rest of the flock is purely subconscious and habitual. It's genetic. Ludicrous even to say the very least. Did I mention it's a total hassle? Yes, I did. Wouldn't it be nice if the things that we wear day in, day out didn't exist? I did say that didn't I? Well, I am saying it again just to bring my message across the masses.
I am talking about shirts, pants, underpants and other underthings. It's just too much of a hassle putting on every article of clothing just so you can go through the day without looking completely and literally naked. The matching of each apparel, the constant cleaning after each wear, the maintenance of every piece and then the wearing. And here's where it becomes idiotic - the cycle repeats itself again. The wearing and then the cleaning and then the ironing and then so on and so forth. IT'S REDUNDANT!!!!
Why, oh, why do we trouble ourselves with something as minor as a little bit of decency? Isn't it overrated? Who invented this whole "clothed" concept anyways?
If clothes didn't exist, fashion would be just another word muttered by the psychologically disturbed. The whispers of a mad woman that falls on the deaf ears of society.
"Fashion?!? What manner of curse have you placed on me you wretched creature?"
*slaps mad woman*
*mad woman falls flat on the ground with giant thump*
Any sensible person knows that we are governed by what is primarily the social perspsective of what is cool and what is not. Clothes are as they say "make the man" or something like that. And fashion is what controls what you wear and why you need. Everyone needs to be in tune to it. Unless, you want to be shun by the public, be given the evil eye and well the occasional hissing or two. Hence to blend in, eventually any social outcast would have to conform to the double-edged blade of fashion consciously or subconsciously. Sure it supposedly makes you look and feel good and that guy or girl that you like so much gives the occasional glance your way but it does wonders to the contents of your wallet, doesn't it? Plus it's been subliminally planted that it makes you look good. Your parents say it, you friends, TV. TV DAMMIT!!! Oh Tv... Why, good friend, do you do this to me?
If we didn't have to buy a new shirt or a pair of jeans ever so often, we could be covered in money. A lot of money, I tell you. So what if we stride nakedly in the streets, in our homes and in our schools? It wouldn't be a problem anyways since no one wears anything at all. I mean think about it. Would a naked body be much of a turn-on if it's the only thing that we see everywhere? It would be like watching rain fall or dirt. Physical appeal would have no meaning at all. Seriously, if man is not obsessed with what's underneath your shirt, every conversation you have with the opposite sex, or the sex of your preference for that matter, would be an eye-to-eye and not an eye-to-hello-my-face-is-up-here.
Oh, how I dream of that world without clothes...
Clothes are marketing "gold mines" for those who make them. Trends are nothing more than just an excuse to make more money to make more crap for us to buy. Every year there's a new style, a new trend, a new excuse to buy new clothes. I mean how absurd can it be when people start buying underwear that's gonna cost you roughly the price of a heart by-pass? And its the piece where you are the only one that knows is wearing it. Unless you're Paris Hilton. For a billionaire heiress, she really needs to spend less money on buying her own albums
(Who else would? Honestly, can she sing?) and more cash on buying undergarments for everyday of the week. It's as if she feels like the world needs see what a billion dollar groin looks like.
Well, now we know.
It looks like that of any other call girl. There's no gold in that cave.
Similarly, how idiotic can it be when we have to pay jeans that are made to look used for over a $100? What's wrong with the old ones that I have? Will it not look the same if I dragged it behind my car while I drive up to Bandar? I mean a 100 km would make a new pair of jeans look even cooler wouldn't it? There are also pieces where you buy just for bed. Why? Why pay for something like that when you can just sleep in your birthday suit? No washing up, no unnecessary staining and no runs up your butt crack.
Then there's this whole concept where for different occasions there are different things that you have to wear. Which is why for that very reason that I don't attend formal functions unless it was cataclysmically necessary. The thing I really, truly, deeply hate about clothes is the preparation that I'd have to go through before putting them on. Especially... ESPECIALLY... when I have to attend some major dinner or conference or meeting. I can never make anything look perfect.
*sigh*
This is seriously taking too much out of me. I shall now go to bed. It seems we shall all have to suffer the sins of our forefathers for putting us in a material-covered world. Good day everyone.
I was going to start off with some sort of major educational introduction on how culture ultimately defines you as a person. And then I would lead it to how culture is linked to dance. Now like every other entry this would go on to me saying something obnoxious about something. If you are thinking that then you are right.
So here's what I think. Why don't I just skip that?
If you've been connected to the rest of the world much like the rest of the world is, you might have heard of the term "krumping". That's right. That dance. Now, if you've never even heard of this word, maybe, just maybe, it's time for you to take your head out of your ass and start smelling fresh air instead of last night's digested dinner.
Krumping is in fact originally a form of dance that originates from South Africa. How it has conquered the good ol' U.S of A. needs no explanation since... well, you figure it out. I mean it is a fad now. It's in movies. They even made movies about it. Refer to "Stomp the Yard". And yes, that was cool.
The music itself is not bad. As for the dancing associated with the music, that's another story. You take away the music and the attitude and you've got someone who seems to be having an epileptic fit and at the same time badly constipated. It's like you're stuck between deciding whether or not to give the guy an enema or call an ambulance.
Another thing, Britney's "Gimme More" is awful.
"Gimme Gimme More, Gimme More
Gimme Gimme More, Gimme Gimme More
[Gimme more.. ohhhh ohhhh]
Gimme Gimme Gimme More Gimme Gimme More
[Gimme more.. yeahh’]
Gimme More Gimme Gimme More
Gimme Gimme More Gimme Gimme Gimme More
[Ohh uh Gimme more, Gimme more]
[M…mmm More]
[Gimme More, Gimme more baby]
Ahh OOhhh uhhhh Ahhh hah ahhh ohhhh ahh
Ahh OOhhh uhhhh Ahhh hah ahhh ohhhh ahh
Ahh OOhhh uhhhh Ahhh hah ahhh ohhhh ahh
Ahh OOhhh uhhhh Ahhh hah ahhh ohhhh ahh
Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme
Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme
Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme"That is just BAD!!! It really is. Regardless of the fact that I used to think that she was hot, this whole comeback thing after exposing her nether regions and the subsequent breakdown of herself and also the psychotic, neo-nazi look that she sported after that is just sad. I mean seriously, can we all look at her ever the same again?
T h e n
Awwww... Would you look at that? Now, that is a face that could melt icebergs.
This, however, is the look that could give icebergs nightmares.Hanging out with Paris didn't do much for her either. Just goes to show, when hanging out with a skanky, snobby billionaire heiress, it's good to always remember not to listen to her when she says," Going panty-less is so in right now." There should be like an anti-skank alarm for all of us. And parents blame TV for all the stupid shit that their children pull off. I say blame money for making people forget what decency is. What has TV ever done to any of us? It has shown us a glimpse into a world where the rich and beautiful are nothing more than narcissistic and spoiled brats.
This entry is all over the place. I should stop. I really should. Yes, I should. There. Stopping now. Good night.
