Et Tu, Babe?

I was browsing for handsfree kits. Y’know, those Bluetooth mobile phone things. Little did I realise I’d find something more interesting. Presenting, Men’s SOM (Super Orgasm Masturbation).

Whatever the inspiration, I think its craaaaaazy! Hahahaha… Yes, I lost some brain cells when I first saw it. Felt like an artery fizzled, popped and deflated in my head. That aside, it seems promising if it was sold to the nice people of the Intelligence community as some torture device. Because I learnt, during Form II, when a pale-looking classmate made a revelation. That the 7th time draws blood.

I forsee. One day in the near future, a comet carrying space virus will smash into Earth. Killing 99% of men. The remainders, the surviving males over time will become the hunted. And this nefarious milking device will be used to harvest the captured. All in the great master plan to repopulate the planet…

Mwahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

Okay, we all know the Japanese have a strange grasp of English. And I bet they know it too. So, recently they integrated Manga into their textbooks and put in new content to keep with the times. The result is some pretty amazing stuff.

Now, I’m not sure whether they forgot to pay the writer or perhaps he/she was on acid. But the result is nuts.

Maybe it’s my look. Or my aura. Or how I look at umm… certain people. But each time I approach a VCD stall, the guy would say, "Boss, 5-X, very good one. For you, special price". And it’s the same everywhere I go, with different genres. No matter how shabbily or well dressed I am. Or in whatever state of mind. Somehow, people offer me porn.

Not that it’s a bad thing. I used to get a kick out of it. But perhaps I’m just getting old. I’m now kinda sick of it all. Yah, porn is nice in your teens and early twenties. At my age, gaah… enough. I’d still have a peek at the more bizzare stuff to ‘broaden my horizons’. But the old poke-poke, bang-bang is getting stale. Give me cartoons any day. Gawd, I’d never thought I’d ever say that.

So am I hamsap? Not really, but only so on odd and even days. The rest, I’m quite fine.

Chastity… the most unnatural of all the sexual perversions.
- Aldous Huxley

Japanese idols aren’t AV Stars though some are. However, they possess the same power of male brain rot. Presenting, Akane Souma, born and raised in Tokyo. She’s been on many Japanese magazines, tv shows, dramas and Idol covers. She should be about 21 now. Damn she’s hot. This strenghtens my resolve to live in Japan someday. Blehh…

I hate it here. I hate what I have to do. Seriously. Fending for myself and planning for tomorrow is driving me nuts. It all friggin’ sucks. But there’s no escaping the end. We will grow old. The economic machine will continue to grind. And we’d still be stuck with monthly bills. No matter what age. Capitalism is only for the rich. It however, strapped me to a millstone at birth. Damn it.

Fear and loathing is alive everywhere. I sense it, feel it and taste it. Always in my thoughts. Never giving me peace. Thus I can’t sleep. So, what do I do? Well, I watch TV.

To be honest, I never liked pudding. Hate it. Mostly because it was boring. Then the sky opened in the land of the rising sun. People invented the boobie pudding. The ultimate lure to get males of all ages to have necessary vitamins and minerals. I haven’t seen, bought or tasted it yet. But damn, I bet it’ll look great in the fridge! Hahaha…

Notice the pudding cup sizes corresponding to the anime babes’ age? Respect-o… the Japs are awesome at details.

Just when you think you’ve seen it all. That’s when you see something that boggles your mind. The following device is a knocked-down version of the high-tech ones we see on err… DVDs. Sold in a local convenience store. Alongside sweets, cigarettes and newspapers. I love Japan!!! Ganbarimas!!!

Hulk Hogan. This man knows no introduction, unless you’ve been living in the Dark Ages. As a kid gowing up, he was my hero. For that matter, he was hero to legions, even my grandpa. He’d always get beat down, almost lose and then, he’d rise. The Hulkamaniac would give the ‘no-no’ sign and you know he’s gonna open a can of whoopass on whoever it is. Even the Ultimate Warrior or Macho Man.

But not many of you know that he has a hot and talented daughter! Her name is Brooke Hogan, 18 and her new album is just out. Titled "Undiscovered". Bloody awesome. She sings well too. :p

Blehh… Hehehe…

He’s disappeared again. The bastard. Every single day it’s the same. From lunchtime till evening, he’s gone. And when it’s time to go home, he comes back and wants work done. That scumbag. Abuse of position and oppression are enough for disembowelment, in my books. So one day, I had enough. I rebelled. I snapped.

I was already home at 11:00 pm. The phone rang. "Where the hell are you?" he screeched. "It’s after hours, I’m home" I said indignantly. He yelled, "Come back now. You have to finish something". "Okay" I replied, gritting my teeth.

The office door was ajar by the time I arrived. I walked in and saw him glaring at me. And he started sreaming. Somehow I didn’t hear the words. All I saw was a mouth opening and closing, as well as a most unpleasant mug. It was like time itself slowed down.

The glitter of a cardboard cutter caught my eye. And a refreshing ‘pop’ went off in my head. It was almost like an orgasm. It was bliss. Liberation. It all made sense. And I grabbed the cutter with my right hand. He gawked. He was stunned. Good.

I charged forward and he raised both arms in defense. I darted cown, leftwards and stabbed deep into the sternum. Before he could spasm, I smashed my left elbow across his jaw. That made him pitch downwards. And the cutter slit its way upwards, separating the ribcage. He hurled blood from his hateful lips. I smiled and thought, "Scold me some more, you mother fucker!"

Blood spilled everywhere. The fax machine, printers, computers and furniture. He stumbled about, wailing something unintelligible. I wasn’t listening anyway, the asshole owed me money anyways. This’ll be payback. I dropped the cardboard cutter. And I grabbed a long sturdy metal ruler and a short one. They feel like blades. Double wielding is fun.

I charged again. First strike was the Sun and Moon Slash. First across the chest with the long blade, twirl and then across the thigh with the short blade. He fell backward a little. Then, I followed up with the Reverse Disarming Slash. Twirling both blades and lunging forward. Both blades coming together like scissors.

Then, there was this bloody car alarm. I woke up. And I couldn’t go back to sleep.

Let yourself go with the disease, be with it, keep company with it - this is the way to be rid of it.
-Bruce Lee, The Tao of Jeet Kune Do (1974)

I must admit, I like to do what’s not expected of me. When I first read "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost (1915), that was my defining moment. We all grow up to think of getting through school, university, job, then settle down, have a family, get a mortgage, etc. Well, I say screw all that.

Free will. Nobody defines the rules. Society forces it upon you so that there is some semblance of ‘normality’ and order. Too bad. I’m the poison pill. Why follow rules and paths when you can make your own trails? Sure, it’s dangerous, tough and hard work. But if it’s fun,  who cares?

Set patterns, incapable of adaptability, of pliability, only offer a cage. Truth is outside all patterns.
- Bruce Lee, The Tao of Jeet Kune Do (1974)