Firdauz takes 5

KLue has linked him. Everyone on Twitter has retweeted him. Even Malaysia Kini has linked him. We only hope for the best. But if they send him to Kamunting for a very long vacation, — well, he probably will for uncovering evidence of online poll fraud, put up by the national religious body whose intention is very clear : “We insist on caning, your opinion does not matter. We have an algorithm for that. Every time someone says ‘no’ to canning, we double the number of ‘yes’. It’s autocratic, we mean automatic.”

Wowzer. Satu Malaysia! Semua boleh. Huhu =P

But anyways, in case they send him to Kamunting, or even me to Kamunting for everything that i am, i dedicate this video to him.

Huhu, don’t la go Kamunting ok? =P

Kata Si Perempuan.

For Carol and Tim, with love.

“Eh bro, when’s your anniversary yeah? It’s nearing — sometime this month right? Or is it past already ah?”

“Eh! Why you damn kepoh one ah?!”

Tim never liked my question. I could understand that. Not everyone is comfortable sharing their private lives with people like me.

Yeah, people like me. The kepoh baluchi type. I made up that word, kepoh baluchi.

Well, to be honest, i only kepoh and poke fun only at the people i care. It’s who i am. I believe that little hurts and little annoyance give people the chance to explore and express their raw feelings — it’s kind of lonely being clinically insane so i guess, i like my friends and the people i care to feel what i feel most of the time.

It’s kind of retarded to write such sentence, ain’t it?

But anyways, happy anniversary in advance to Tim and Carol whom i caught were holding hands in a car park late one night when they were still falling for each other, i think.

It’s what we live for, ain’t it?

To tell a guy to kiss a girl, to tell a girl to another girl for a twist. And to celebrate those who make this world, a better place by — i don’t want to say the world. You’ll figure it out.

Aha!

“I’m so tall,” told Michelle while waiting for the lift.

By means of metabolism, or perhaps oxidation in thermodynamic sense, breaking down a gram of fat yields approximately 38.9 kilojoules of energy. That’s the same amount of solar radiation received by one square metre of the Earth in roughly a little more than half a minute.

C16H32O2 + 23O2 → 16CO2 + 16H2O2     ∆G°' = -9.3 kcal/g

By means of nuclear fission, or perhaps splitting atoms in nonsensical sense, if the total mass of a fissile element is equal to that of Michelle’s total body weight, you can a very happy nuclear explosive!

God help humanity! For Michelle is so fat i can’t but laugh like its a freaking marathon.

“I’m so tall,” told Michelle, looking at her heels, while waiting for the lift.

The elevator doors opened. 9 or 10 of us went in.

“Fresh, you know about evolution,” i came closer to her and whispered, “that we all came (evolved) from apes?”

“Yeah, i know.”

“I think Michelle right,” while pointing at her and she looked blank, “came (descended directly/mutated perhaps just a little bit) from dinosaurs.”

What a lovely friend i am! But Michelle sayang me, nonetheless. Kan kan?

*Pictures stolen and edited without permision from Amanda.

“Baby, i rasa kan,” while flipping through a Biochemistry text book (true geeks read textbooks for fun!) looking for ways to hydrolyze triacylglycerols with alkali, in other words — learning how to turn fat people into soaps, i had told, “our paths pernah crossed before. Betul Baby, i rasa.”

“Iya? Kat mana Baby?”

“Kat sini,” i held a deep breath to make my chest appear broader and bigger and tougher and with a finger, i crossed my heart and almost turned the moment into a soap opera. But of course, all i got afterwards, was incredible sex.

I’m a chai wallah. Tumsapenehe Jamal Slumdogehe coca-cola.

Acha betha. Computer ghee lock answer Jamal cucu mata, acha betha.

Acha betha. Peletum peletum nahe nahe supramaniam tarian naga. Ayoyo!

Nahe yoyo! Mumbai ka, makan petai ka tetek tada besar. Peletum?

Jamal, peletum nahe?

Tarian naga betha? Acha.

Whatever it is, chinese he, india he, malay he, one malaysia, hepi niuyar.

Kongsi kongsi.

Telah merasuk seorang lelaki separuh gemuk.

Dan lelaki itu menjadi gila.

Lala.

Life was, so much easier, and so much merrier before she came too close to my screen.

Life was — like any drama queen would tell — depressing and not worth living when she found out about it.

“Why are you…reading about painting nails one?” asked Fresh whose Chinese name literally meant fresh. Her face looked puzzled.

“Hahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahhaha..” I laughed, i just had to. I wanted to kill myself didn’t i? Ofttimes, i’m confused between being suicidal and highly amused. My life was — before she found it about it — cloaked in melodrama and insanity. My life is, after she found out about it, still pretty much melodramatic and insane. Look at the way i write. Look at yourself. The eyeballs that follow each line and the lips that whisper every word i write, amuses me. “I want to know how they did it! I painted my nail but why not even one ah. How, how.”

I had painted my fingernail purple. And like every effeminate man would tell, it’s pretty. Prettier than yours.

(and like a girl, you’ll be jealous of it)

(losers!)

(sissy!)

Remember when we were friends and you were stupid and i was obviously charming and gave you pink flowers and told you to return them back?

Those were the happiest days, weren’t they?

Now you went Japan and all around the world and got handsome boyfriend already very action ah. Message also dowan reply.

How you been, silly girl.

Sometimes, stupid friends of yours are less stupid than mine when mine constantly leave me to go to Klang to eat my favourite dish and then beyond extreme stupidity, i suspect, they laugh happily with white teeth and bunny teeth at least one of them at the matters because i don’t get to join them.

Stupid friends of mine. What did i do in my previous life to still have them as friends? Was i Adolf Hitler or am i the reincarnation of Britney Spears? Poor girl is still alive isn’t she. Too bad i don’t care.

And among the stupid friends of mine, i picked my favourite and text her a message. Her name could have been Vernice Mashi Moro if she were a fat Korean rabbit but then again, everything i write is just a crazy stream of insanity that sometimes, doesn’t really belong in a sentence.

I wrote, not to a fat Korean rabbit but close, i wrote, “you guys go BKT ah?”

“Yes, jam here.”

“Tapau for me can ah? One set can?”

Of course she said yes. After all, i’m the cleverest among them and i had decided after a big bowl of the very delicious Bak Kut Teh, that i don’t really mind if my friends are stupid.

After all, it’s too cliche to end a story with an after all.

(didn’t i tell you everything i write is just a stream of insanity)

you may stop praying now. Yes, i’ve found god (or a shawl to wear as headscarf)

An old joke i used to tell :

“Dulu, memang dia tu pondan. Tapi sekarang dah insaf. Dah tak nak jadi pondan lagi, dah pakai tudung, tutup aurat. Alhamdulillah.”

(It’s a joke about a transwoman who had finally become a good muslim and decided to wear something he shouldn’t be wearing at all, a hijab)

*picture stolen from tim’s tweet

A huge girl, — a really huge girl –, whose name could have been Michelle, or Mishuyumi, or quite possibly could have been Toro-Toro Gonoki-Gonoki Michelle, came from behind and rocked my chair with — quite possibly — her giant hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” i asked.

“Nothing, just .. headache.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure? Nothing else? Obesity… maybe?”

But people, even giant people, they love me for who i am.

(and i don’t mind loving them back for who they are. sumo wrestlers or whoever.)

“Come shorty,” told Karen Mayer, the girl i probably hated the most, “come take picture.”

Karen Mayer, Christy, another loser whose name was forgettable and I were talking about a few other losers whose names were beyond forgettable when we came to discuss about the people and judging their characters.

“So,” i asked, “Christy, what kind of a person Karen is?”

“I don’t know. I probably need some time to think about.”

“Perhaps, i asked you wrongly. So Christy, what kind of an elephant Karen is?”

Not a mythical one. Recommended for those who don’t believe in God, this giant is genuine.

In the year when the silly Malaysians still had not tried to burn down churches for fun, I had learnt from a very prestigious school on how to hammer poetry onto a piece of metal.

It sings;

“Anis *** Bontot Gemuk.”

Oh, so poetic.

P/s : I couldn’t think of anything more poetic than that! At that moment, Anis Yulianna’s butt seemed like a delicious muse to me. At this moment, it still is. Nyum Nyum. Bontot gemuk. Mmmmmmmmm. =P

“I look very weird in this picture.” I told, “almost, not like myself. What’s wrong with my new camera?”

“Nothing,” told Michelle, “just that your camera can’t detect your dark skin and the dark background.”

I’ve trained a terrorist. Fat people are just mean.