Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Porn on the 31st of August

You know what the problem with this country is?

No. That's not it.

Nope. Not it either.

No No No.


Okay. So there are many problems with this country. It was a rhetorical question, dammit.

The problem with this country is this:

There's not enough locally-produced porn.

I mean, sure. There's stolen private videos and hidden cam stuff and all that.
But the quality is bad. The acting is bad. And worst of all: There's no script. No plot.
There's nothing for potential sexual criminals to get off on. Which is why sexual crimes are on the rise. Or maybe they're not on the rise. I didn't actually bother to check. But I'm assuming they are because I'm irresponsible and proud of it.

So, in line with the Government's efforts to stop sex crimes by using ridiculous methods, I, Pazuzu, am hereby publishing, without any expectation of payment, Malaysia's very first porn script, which has been approved by both The Information Ministry and Dewan Bahasa:

Gerak Hasnah: The Movie

Doktor: Hmmm...kenapa dengan awak ni, Hasnah?

Hasnah: Saya sakit dada, doktor.

Doktor: Baiklah. Mari saya periksa.

Pokok: Mmmmm...

Gamelan music comes on.

Hasnah: Mmmmm...Doktor.

Doktor: Mmmm...Hasn...Eh? Apa ni?

Hasnah: Inilah tali-pinggang chastiti saya, yang diluluskan oleh SIRIM dan Istana Negara. Sila tunggu sebentar sementara saya mencari kunci untuk membukanya.

Doktor: Baiklah.

Nurse: Mmmm...can I join in?

Doktor: Oh tidak. Malangnya, wajah Pan-Asian anda tidak sesuai dipaparkan di kaca televisyen negara kita Malaysia yang merdeka! Berambus!

Nurse: Ya, Doctor.

Pokok: Mmmmm...

Doktor: Hasnah, kenapa lama sangat ni?

Hasnah: Kunci saya sudah hilang, Doktor.

Accappan: Ada orang hilang kunji, kaa? Saya ada jumpa ini kunji di luar.

Hasnah: Accappan! Apa awak buat di sini?

Accappan: Penulis skrip telah memasukkan watak saya untuk menunjukkan bahawa negara kita Malaysia yang merdeka adalah terdiri daripada rakyat yang berbilang kaum! Sekarang, saya mesti pergi dulu.

Doktor: Baiklah.

Hasnah: Doktor! Dengan menggunakan kunci yang dijumpai oleh Accappan ini, saya telah berjaya membuka tali-pinggang chastiti saya!

Doktor: Mmmmm....

Hasnah: Mmmmm...

Pokok: Hentikan adegan lucah ini dengan segera!

Hasnah: Eh? Pokok ajaib!

Pokok: Saya bukan pokok ajaib! Saya sebenarnya Menteri Besar Terengganu dan Pengerusi Kelab Mat Skodeng Malaysia yang Merdeka! Selama ini, saya menyorok di belakang pokok ini sambil merakam kegiatan lucah awak berdua! HaHaHaHa!

Hasnah: Doktor, pada pendapat saya, kami berdua perlu insaf.

Doktor: Baiklah.


Okay. So maybe it's not such a good idea to produce a locally-made porn movie after all.
Stupid me.
I think I'll go work for the government.


Please disregard the previous post. Sometimes Stupidity has the power to inspire.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

The War Against Stupidity

Stupidity wears a tie. And a coat. Even though this is Malaysia and we mengalami iklim khatulistiwa, which means the most appropriate attire for work should be slippers and shorts (shirt optional).

Stupidity sits at the head of the table. He pretends to frown thoughtfully after listening to what I have to say. Then he tells me I'm wrong. He is unable to tell me why.

Stupidity has a bookshelf. There are many books, all neatly arranged, all unread, all self-help books, on it. There is a book on his table - Seven Habits of Successful People, I think it is. It is dog-eared on Chapter 2. It has been for months now. I guess finishing what you started isn't one of the 7 habits.

Stupidity has a Problem. Proudly, he announces to me that he also has The Solution. The Problem can be metaphorically described as "Global Warming". Stupidity's Solution can be metaphorically described as "to wear a really large hat".

Stupidity has a Successful Sense of Humour. Which means that his jokes and one-liners consist of incomprehensible remarks about golf, cars and second-wives. Example:

Me: We have two-concepts to present.

Stupidity: You have two concepts? I have two wives! HaHaHaHa! Geddit?

Me: No.

I have no sense of humour.
Not today.
It's in exile.
It fears the mess that Stupidity has left in much of my brain.
I can't write. I can't laugh. I can barely think.

I need the antidote to Stupidity.

I need Langkawi.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

A Poem About Love

I Lhove You.


No. Rheally.



No. But...


I'm nhot dhrunk.

What dh'you mhean I'm schlurring?

I'm nhot schlurring!

Bhut I only had tchree bheers.



But I'm schtill schober.


I Lhove You.



Followed by: A Poem About Sex


Tchis Dhoesn't ushually...


Bhut I only had tchree bheers.




Monday, February 12, 2007

War! Hurgh! What is it Good For? Why, it's good for some Weekend Fun, of course!

Welcome to another edition of Weekend Fun!

If, for some reason, you aren't stoned or drunk while reading my blog, then you will remember that in my last Weekend Fun entry, I had generously showed you how you can become famous and rich by Invading The Subconcious of Malaysians via TV News Shows.

I am pleased to announce that I have taken my own advice and, due to my famousity*, am now the star of an on-going advertising campaign along with footballers Michael Owen, Steven Gerrard, Robert Pires, Ryan Giggs, Maya Karin (Cristiano Ronaldo with make-up) and Some Chinese Guy.

The thing is, I didn't even have to stake out a news-crew to get famous. As Blogger of the Year, I was invited, yes- INVITED, to a press-conference by former Prime Minister Tun Dr Doom...errr...I mean, Mahathir:

Folks, this is how you become famous.

Anyway, while I was there, I was mesmerised by Toon's (no offense, Anttyk) views on War and whatever.
You see, Toon has actually set up a War-Crimes Tribunal to try Bush, Blair and "that pocket bush from the bushlands of Australia (HaHa! Good one, Toon! You should host the next Oscars! Really!)"

The setting-up of this Tribunal is made even more remarkable by the fact that Toon is now, as he calls himself, a Commoner and Citizen of Malaysia.

After listening to him, I was inspired. I mean, a War-Crimes Tribunal! If that's not a good way to have some Weekend Fun, then I don't know what is! Or at least I won't know until next week.

So anyway, here's how you, a useless Commoner, can set up your own War-Crimes Tribunal:

First you have to induce senility.
You must do this so that, as a War-Crimes Tribunalist, you yourself are beyond reproach.
You can induce senility by drinking large quantities of Balalaika Vodka, which is distilled locally using Paraquat and possibly Dettol.

For example, if, in your crazy youth, you happened to remove a Lord President or two, one bottle of Balalaika will make you completely forget this.

Or if, on your 21st Birthday Party, you got really drunk and threw-up and hired a stripper and arrested a few-hundred people under the ISA, three Balalaikas should do the trick.

Now that you're drunk, senile and think you're Mother Teresa but only not as ugly, you're ready to start your own War-Crimes Tribunal!
You may invite Toon to join in the fun, along with a few Friends, as the following example shows:

Chandler: Hear ye! Hear ye! The Tribunal is now in session! The honourable Toon Dr. M presiding!

Dr. M: Order in the court!

Chandler: Toon, who should we charge with a War-Crime?

Dr. M: Order in the court!

Rachel: But you said that already!

Dr. M: Said what?

Rachel: Order in the court.

Dr. M: Hey! You can't say that! I'm supposed to say that!

Rachel: I know. I'm saying that you already said it. Twice. Don't you remember?

Dr. M: I remember nothing! You have nothing on me! Nothing! Bailiff! Remove Rachel from this court and arrest her under the ISA!

Ross: But you can't do that! You're no longer the PM!

Dr. M: Remove Ross as well. And put him in a cell with Rachel!

Ross: Wooohooo!

Dr. M: Okay-okay. Quickly. Who should we charge with a War-Crime?

Joey: Let's charge Santa Clause!

Dr. M: Why?

Joey: Why not? It's not like he'll actually be sentenced or anything, right?

Dr. M: Good point. Okay.

Chandler: Santa Clause! You are hereby charged
in absentia with War-Crimes!

Dr. M: All in favour of a guilty verdict say setuju!

Joey/Phoebe: Setuju!

Dr. M: All against say tak setuju!

Monica: Tak setuju.

Dr. M: Santa Clause, you are hereby convicted of War-Crimes. From now on, you will forever be known in history books as Santa Clause-Killer of Children. Border in the Port!

Chandler: Don't you mean Order in The Court?

Dr. M: Whatever

So there.
Thanks to the always-inspirational Toon Dr. M and me, you have yet another fun-filled activity to fill your weekends with fun with. Or something.

With your very own War-Crimes Tribunal, you can now charge just about anybody with a War-Crime! All in the name of whatever!

This has been another episode of Weekend-Fun.

My name is Pazuzu. And I am Fun-ky.

Now Flush-Off.


*Because I'm now rich and famous, I can make up words as and when I please. If you don't like like it, you can chuggadeebu.

More Revised National Anthems


Buddy you're a boy make a big noise
Playin in the street gonna be a big man some day
You got Wrigley's gum
You lousy bum
Spittin your gum all over the place

We will we will fuck you!
By order of Lee Kuan Yew!

Buddy you're a young man hard man
Shoutin in the street gonna take on the world some day
Got a fag on your lip
Now here's a tip
You better not blow that smoke in our face

Coz we will we will fuck you
By order of Lee Kuan Yew!

It is recomended that The Government make Brian May a Singaporean citizen in order for him to play the solo here. This would be especially useful during the Singaporean National Day Parade.


We are Kyrgyzstan, hear us growl!
Please Pat Sajak, can we buy a vowel?
Uzbekistan has u, e, i and a in their name,
We have only a, Oh! What a shame!

If we had an i, we could be called Kyrgyzstani,
No wait! On second thought, that sounds a bit funny,
If we had a u, we could be called Kyrgyzstanu,
Remember Mork from Mork and Mindy said Nanu Nanu.


If you think Australia's strange,
you would be quite right,
We like to eat this substance,
That we call Vegemite

And if you think that's not so bad,
Then just maybe,
You would change your mind,
When a dingo eats your baby.

All together now:

A dinggooo eats your babeeeeee!!!!!

Previous revised national anthems here

To be continued...

A Weekend of Silence

Just so you know, Weekend Fun was cancelled because we at The Floating Turd were observing a period of mourning due to the passing of two of the world's most beloved figures - Anna Nicole Smith.

We'll be back.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

They Took Away My Home, and Replaced it with House

I am hungover and grumpy today.
I am grumpy because the hangovers get worse every year even with fewer beers consumed the night before.

Last night, I accompanied a friend for a deejay-job interview in some club called something-that-I-can't-remember.

And the bar manager was telling him that he should be able to play some "Chill House Music, some Acid House, some farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse. Our fugitive's name is Doctor Richard Kimble."
No wait.
That was Tommy Lee Jones.

Anyway, he said something to that effect, and I was thinking "What the hell?"
What is house music anyway?
When did this stupid genre of music creep up on us?
What the hell happened to music played by musicians?
Like in the 80s, when songs had lyrics that meant something, dammit.

Songs like this one by Toto Coelo:

I eat cannibal
Feed on animal
Your love is so edible to me
I eat cannibals

I eat cannibal
It's incredible
You bring out the animal in me
I eat cannibals

What can you do
You're in a stew
Hot hot cook it up
I'm never gonna stop

Fancy a bite
My appetite
Yum yum gee it's fun
Banging on a different drum

And I eat cannibal
Feed on animal
Your love is so edible to me
I eat cannibals

Got a hunger for your love
(Hot pot cook it up, I'm never gonna stop)
It's all I'm thinkin' of
(Yum yum gee it's fun, I'm banging on a drum)
Give the world a bone
(Roastin vitamin, forget the dietin')
I got steak at home
(I eat cannibals)

See? Now that's a song, dammit.
I want the 80s back.
I want to live again in a world where crimes are solved by a talking car and "if you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire... The A-Team."

Nowadays, crimes are solved by CSI.
And if you miss that, there's CSI: Miami.
And if you still haven't got enough, there's CSI: New York.
Seriously, do we need this many CSIs? It's only a matter of time before they franchise out the damn series and we'll get CSI: Perlis, featuring Yusof Haslam in the lead role delivering Dewan Bahasa-approved lines:

Yusof Haslam: Sarjan! Sila lukis garisan putih mengelilingi mayat tersebut dan hantarkan DNA-nya ke makmal di Kangar! Kami mesti memberkas pembunuh ini demi keselamatan rakyat Malaysia, negara kita yang merdeka!

Sarjan: Baik, Tuan!

Not only do I want the 80s back, I want to be my 80s-self again, baggy pants and all.

I want to rush home after school to watch MASK and Muttley. And the Hillbilly Bears (Paw! Paw! That darn racoon done stole our dinner agin!). And later, Manimal. And Automan. And Remington Steele.

I want to turn on the radio and scream "Wo-oh! We're halfway there! Wo-oh! Livin' On A Prayer!" and play air guitar and punch my fist in the air for no good reason.

I want to listen to "Love Songs and Dedications" on Singapore Radio to hear if anyone I know from school has a crappy song dedicated to him, so that I can make fun of him tomorrow (In the pre-Astro days, Johoreans were years ahead of the rest of the country because of Singapore TV and Radio. Nowadays, Johoreans are mainly just wet.)

I want to hang out with my friends in the back of the Maju Bus on my way back from school, peering out the window at Convent Girls who are sitting in an...ahem..."unladylike" manner on the benches facing the main road. (Actually, this is a completely unnecessary paragraph dedicated to Leen Ash Burn and Ylanda. Heh heh.)

I want to hang out at the Post Office Bus Stop (affectionately known as PO) and the ais-kacang shop near PO (what the hell was the name of the shop? I can't believe I can't remember).

I want to take Maths tuition from Annamalai on Friday Nights at the Bukit Chagar flats, and then, along with my tuition-mates, make crank-calls from the public-phone downstairs.

Crank-Call Flashback

We used to call up our school prefects at night and tell them that a bunch of us were coming to their house RIGHT NOW in cabs to whack them up.
Then we'd call about 15 cabs and send it to their house.
Ah, the simple joys of juvenile humour.

I want to be a kid who dreams of being a published writer, not an unpublished writer who dreams of being a kid.

Stupid 2007.
Stupid House Music.
Stupid CSI.
Stupid hangover.

I need a drink.


Discussion Question:

Last night, I also went to Hard Rock Cafe. The last time I went there was probably 5, 6 years ago. The price of a jug of beer there is now 73 Ringgit. My question to you is:
What the fuck?

Friday, February 02, 2007

Weekend Fun: Fame, Fortune and Free Speech

I know it's late.

I know I promised you, my Adoring Fans, a Weekend Fun entry every Thursday or Friday so that you won't go bonkers and kill yourself or something.
To those of you who have already killed yourselves, I sincerely apologise - it won't happen again unless it happens again.

For the rest of you, this late episode of Weekend Fun is extra-special.
Because I'm going to show you how to have fun while becoming famous and, consequently, rich.

As you already know, being a Malaysian, you are an insignificant little speck of something with no rights whatsoever.
Even in the BlogoBujur, there is no avenue for you to be heard without being sued.
In my last post, I showed you how you can overcome this becoming a Masked Vigilante Graffiti Guy.
However, while this is a fun way to be heard, it won't make you famous and/or rich.

So this week's Weekend Fun is dedicated to my readers who want to "have their cake and eat it too."
Here's what you do. You should become a:


As you know, the streets these days are often filled with protesters holding up manila-cards with messages of whatever.
This is a really fun way to spend a day while at the same time annoying the hell out of everyone except the people the messages are intended for:

Malaysia is fast becoming advanced in the area of Creative Protesting.

But we still lag behind countries like the UK. This guy who scaled the walls of Buckingham Palace in a Batman suit should have been Time Magazine's Person of the Year. Stupid Time Magazine.

Before you gatecrash a protest, you must decide on two important things:

1) What protest to gatecrash
2) What your message will be

What protest to gatecrash

You must choose your protest very carefully.
Choosing the wrong protest to gatecrash could end up with you being in hospital or worse - dead.
Here are a few helpful hints:

Never gatecrash a protest where the protesters are predominantly Indian. They are never a happy bunch (see above) and will think nothing of bludgeoning you to death with a bottle (empty) of Guinness Stout.

If you want your message to stand out from the crowd, a Chinese protest is always ideal. As you can see, nobody understands what the hell they're protesting about. This will make your banner/manila-card more "eye-catching".

The Malay Woman* Protest is always the best and easiest to gatecrash. They don't look the least bit interested in what they're protesting about and thus won't mind at all if you decide to "tumpang glamor".

So now that you've selected a protest to gatecrash, you must decide on:

What Your Message Will Be

When choosing a message, you must make sure your message is completely irrelevant to whatever the actual protest is about.
This way, passers-by will notice your message because it will be the "odd one out".

The protesters might get irritated that you're using the publicity generated by them to further your own personal cause.
Kindly point out to them that you have as much right to be there as they do and they can't do jack-shit to you.

You might also want to decorate your sign with colourful Christmas-lights to make your sign even more stand-outish, as this example shows:

Your message could be socially-driven. And it could be used to highlight a politically-incorrect phrase which is offensive to minorities:

Or, if you are a victim of vicious rumours, your message could be a personal rebuttal of those rumours:

Or, if the protest is shown on TV and you need to get in touch with someone who has switched off his handphone, something like this will do:

In fact, your sign can say just about anything, provided it has nothing to do with what the protesters are protesting.

This way, you could become Noticed, paving the way for you to become famous and sign lucrative sponsorship deals with advertisers who are starved for local celebrities to endorse their products.

Another way for you to become famous without actually doing anything useful is to become Paris Hilton.
Since this is technically impossible for most of us, I have another suggestion:

Invade The Malaysian Subconcious

To do this, first, you have to stake out the TV3 building.
When you see a news-van pulling out of the building, tail it until they reach their destination.
When they have set-up for their news story, you should stand in the background and wave to the camera, like this:

If the news-people complain, kindly point out to them that you have as much right to be there as they do and they can't do jack-shit to you.

The following week, do the same thing with other news-channels like NTV7, 8TV, Al-Jazeera and Astro. You may skip RTM, which nobody watches anyway.

If you do this for a few months, your face will become embedded in the collective subconcious of all Malaysians.
Wherever you go, people won't know who you are, but they will believe that you're famous because they have "seen you somewhere before".

If you happen to be spotted by an advertiser, he/she will immediately think you're famous without knowing why, and offer you a lucrative sponsorship deal because they are starved for local celebrities who haven't been caught for khalwat yet.

So there you have it.
This week's installment of Weekend Fun, Fame, Fortune and Free-Speech.
That's four "Fs" for you. In one post!
Here's another one. For free:



* I realise I'm generalising about Malay Women here. I'm sure not all Malay Women will be so accepting if you gatecrash their protest. For example, if you happen to see Lily Liverbird at a protest, you should forget about gatecrashing and run away. Seriously. Don't let her size fool you. She will hurt you. Bad.