Box Set: Lingam, The Musical (Complete Episodes 1-5!)

Episode 1




Episode 2




Episode 3




Episode 4




Episode 5






The management of thefloatingturd.blogspot.com hereby vow never to do anything like this ever again. Thank you.

Debate: What You Use To Catch DeFish

Topic: Pee around the toilet bowl is caused by, not men, but women who, in their struggle for equality, try to pee standing up.

Discuss.

Save The Chinese!

I have been accused by A Babe of Very Little Brain of being a peanut who has forgotten its err...peanut shell ever since I was famously featured in The Star (Note to Babe: Has Jasmine ever been featured in The Star? Huh? Has he? HAS HE?).

So I would like to clarify once and for all that I, Pazuzu, have not let fame go to my hea...what do you mean you didn't know I was featured in The Star?

You don't read The Star?

What the fuck kind of MCA member are you?

Never mind. For the benefit of all you morons out there who don't read The Paper That Only Prints Really Really Really Important News So You Have More Time To Read The Ads, I have reproduced the article here:



Click to enlarge


Hah!

You read that?

Huh?

Did you?

Kiss my Trademark Adobe Flash Stickman! KISS IT! (Note To Babe: Does Jasmine have a Trademark Adobe Flash Stickman? Huh? Does he? DOES HE?)

Anyway, now that I'm really famous and have a Trademark and all, I have decided, as all famous people do at some point (usually when they get on Oprah), to "play my part" as a "responsible citizen" and "give something back to society" and "have my picture taken with retarded/sick/old/orphaned people" so I can "look good" and "people will like me" and won't mind in the least when I "use quotation-marks unnnecccesssarily" and refuse to check the actual spelling for "unnnecccasssarily".

And as you all already know, the most underprivileged community in Malaysia, despite what HINDRAF and UMNO will have you believe, is The Chinese Community.
Sure, they may have a natural aptitude for business and making money and becoming rich and all, but the one sector where they lag behind all the other races is in the "Not Giving Myself a Comical-Sounding Name Sector".

Not that other races are much better.

Indians have a tendency to put way too many syllables in their names. I suspect that it's because Indians will always be competitive and try to outdo each other ("Your son's name is Mangolingam? My son's name is Thirumangolingam! Hah! ")
Malays have a tendency to give themselves Government Names like Nuriah. If you ever met someone named Nuriah, your immediate instinct would be to address that person as Puan Nuriah, even if this particular Nuriah happens to be a newborn baby.

The thing is, with Indians and Malays, these unfortunate names are given to them by their parents, probably as a permanent practical joke.

But most Chinese people, as you all know, choose their own bloody names!
Once they reach a certain age, they will suddenly show up in school with a new name-tag and announce to everybody that they no longer wish to be called Wong Wee Lim. "Call me Ricky," they would happily say, and go about their business as though nothing unusual just happened.

Then, sometime around the 80s I think, Chinese people appeared to have simply run out of names. All the Rickys, Jackies, Vickys and Nickys were taken. So, out of desperation, they started using non-names as names. Suddenly, you found yourself being introduced to a Milk Choy or a Prudential Tan or a Coppertone Ooi. My mother once had a student named - I swear I am not making this up - Filofax.

People, this has to stop.

We cannot simply hunch over our beers and pretend that this isn't happening. I believe we have to Do Something. Which is why me and fellow-famous-person Bono have started the "Donate A Name and Save A Chinese Person" worldwide campaign:



(from left) Bono, Me and Chinese Person


And you can play your part too.
All you have to do give an example of a wacky Chinese name and a suitable replacement-name in the comment box below and you could help a Pantomime Chin become a Bob Chin.

To promote this campaign, Bono and I are giving away free T-shirts to all those who donate a name:

I realise some of you don't drink or smoke and probably have no use for the above T-shirt. But that's like saying you won't wear a "Save The Whales" T-shirt because you're not actually a whale. Come on people. Do your bit for your fellow man.

Donate a name in the following format in the comment box:

Wacky Chinese Name: ___________
Suggested Name: _______________
E-mail: __________

and I'll e-mail you a voucher which you can print and redeem for 1 free t-shirt at Bojangles Pub in Desa Sri Hartamas (the road behind Fitness First) while stocks last (if you don't want to display your e-mail in the comment box, you can e-mail me your e-mail and I'll e-mail the voucher to your e-mail. e-mail. e-mail. e-maiStopIt! )

Guys, if all of us do this, then maybe, just maybe, I can get enough Chinese votes to win my election campaign and become your next Prime Minister. Speaking of which:

PUNDAK is back.

You can become a PUNDAK candidate for the General Election. Go here and pick your constituency now!

The Floating Turd Movie

Ever since I released the amateur video of myself talking to someone who may of may not have been Chief Justice Fairuz a few weeks ago, I have received tons of movie offers from well-known directors and porn producers.

Sadly, most of the roles that are on the table are only there because of my, as one famous director puts it - "leading-man good looks".

Listen here and listen good, you superficial Hollywood movie moguls:

I may be good-looking but I'm not just some hunky piece of meat, okay? I have genuine talent, dammit! Also, I will NOT do nudity unless it's for "artistic purposes", okay?

So while waiting for a big-budget script that is worthy of my talents and/or nude body, I have headlined a small independent film made by a well-known director based on a story by a famous writer.

And the movie is about...Me!

Yes. It is the story of my life. It is the story of my struggle against oppresion and people who seek to keep me down. Best of all, it is a story that does not contain the line "Aku tak nak jadi cicak! Aku nak jadi normal!". So you know it's going to be a good movie.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you The Floating Turd Movie:

The Drunken Indian Defense

Okay. So you've seen the video. The one that, if you listen to members of the Legal-Community, should bring the Judiciary down to its knees, forcing many judges to turn-in their black housecoats and comical wigs in shame.

Of course, you could argue that it is in fact more shameful to actually want to wear the black housecoat and comical wig to work everyday, but you would be - as you often are - wrong.
You see, in the Upside-Down World of the Law, where Black is sometimes White, Right if often Wrong and Guilty is always refered to in legal terms as Not Guilty, this otherwise-ridiculous attire is a symbol of Honour and Justice and stop laughing, dammit!
I'm being serious here!

Fine.
Read it yourself.

It clearly states in Article 20.2/:( of The Constitution of Malaysia that:

"The Wearer of The Black Housecoat and Wig shall, at all times, discharge his duties with Honour and serve the needs of Justice, insofar as insofar, even if He (or if no Hes are available, She) is laughed at by people wearing normal attire."

There.

So, in light of the revelations in the Lingam Video, The Legal Community is up-in-arms over something or other that besmirches the integrity of the Black Housecoat and Comical Wig.
I like saying besmirches.
Besmirches besmirches besmirches.

Members of the Legal Community are so convinced that this video is whatever, that 2000 lawyers, mistakenly believing that the Prime Minister can read, actually marched to Putrajaya the other day to present a memo to him demanding that Action Be Taken and that Prima Facie Verily Deo Ipsum Loqouituresque!

Imagine that! 2000 lawyers to deliver one memo! Boy, I'd hate to be the sorry schmuck who's going to foot that legal bill. Bloody thieving lawyers.

Meanwhile, The Government, in a response that can only be described as nincompoopy, has appointed a Special Three-Man Panel to ascertain what any pimply-faced Playstation-humping teenager can tell you within minutes:

Whether the tape is authentic or whether it is actually a Pixar-Animation production with the part of VK Lingam played by a guy in a blue-suit, probably the same guy who played Gollum so convincingly in The Lord of The Rings Trilogy.

But let us, you and I, not be morons for a moment and assume that the tape is indeed authentic. Come on. Let's. It's safe. Really.
There are people, usually balding manager-types, who will tell you that it's wrong to assume. They will tell you that when you ASSUME, "you make an ass out of u and me".
Then they will look at you expectantly, like they want you to applaud their superior intellect or something.
These people are idiots and you should point out to them you cannot really make an ass out of u and me. You can make an emu out of u and me. You can make meu, mue, uem, ume or even an eum. But you cannot, no matter how hard you try, make an ass out of u and me.
So the correct phrase should, in fact, be "U, me and an ass can make Assume" which sounds really stupid if said out loud by anyone who isn't Arnold Schwarzenegger.

So, having ascertained that both u and me cannot be made asses, we'll just go right ahead and assume that the tape is authentic. Okay?

Right.

My question to you now is this:

So bloody what?

Look at the video again. Look at the foreground. See that bottle there? Well, let's just say that it's not a bottle of Chili Sauce.

Hah!

Get it?

Chili Sauce?

Because his name is Lingam, you see. And there's a brand of Chili Sauce called fuck it never mind. You're a humourless lot, you are.

Anyway, if my years' of watching CSI have taught me anything, it is that the bottles in question are, in alphabetical order:

1) Dewars (probably White Label, subject to DNA results)
2) Red Wine
3) Sprite (probably to be used as a mixer for the Dewars)

So now let me ask you this:

Which Indian man do you know, having consumed copious amounts of alcohol, has NOT, at some point in his life, called someone up and promised him the Chief Justiceship of Malaysia?

This could've happened to anybody, dammit! And I should know.
This video of me that you're about to see was secretly filmed by some bastard whom I can't remember while I was happily drinking at some place that I can't remember:

Now does this mean that I'm guilty of anything?
Of course not!

Because according to unreliable sources who were also drinking at the time, this conversation was recorded while I was calling a cab to take me home. And I have a vague memory of listening to hold-music (I think it was The Yellow Rose of Texas) throughout the time I was talking.

So all I'm saying is that we should give Lingam the benefit of the doubt. For all we know, he could've been talking to his mother. Or attempting, in his inebriated state, to order a pizza.

Disclaimer:
I'm not suggesting that Lingam was drunk while he made the call. It is entirely up to you to figure that out for yourself. You can mathematically calculate the drunkeness of an Indian using the following formula - 3.14(circumference of hand waving) X voice decible level + number of times the word correct is used.
The higher the number, the more drunk he is.

And if Lingam was, in fact, drunk at the time, then even if he was talking to the judge, he can simply use The Drunken Indian Defense to fight his case.

The Drunken Indian Defense, of course, has been used for years to absolve Indians of any wrongdoing whatsoever by allowing them to quickly plead "I was drunk" when caught. It has successfully been used in many cases where Indians have uttered such damning words as:

"Of course I can sing on stage!"

"I'll pay you back next week"

or, worst of all:

"I, take you to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part."

Note:
The Drunken Indian Defense, as the name suggests, may only be used by Indians. Chinese people can't use it because they usually pass out after two drinks. And Malays can't use it because, as everybody knows, they...ahem...don't drink.

So, in conclusion, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we can deduce, using The Drunken Indian Defense, that Lingam is Guilty, which as you already know, according to The Law, actually means Not Guilty.
And with that, the defence rests its case.

Now let's u and me go make an emu.

The Return of The Floating Turd. Seriously.

I guess I should start by explaining my absence:

I've been working on, well, things.

Serious things.

You see, I've come to realise that, in this great country of ours, there are a great many people who are suffering. People who, if the current situation persists, will not be able to afford the basic needs that we take for granted everyday.
And they have no Datins or Miss Universes to take up their cause.

I'm not sure if I can change things. Certainly not on my own.

But I can try.

I figure if more people know about the problem, then more people will be inclined to contribute to The Cause.

So there will be no making fun of politicians in this post.
No travelling through time.
No Weekend Fun.
No uneccessary linking to Lily Liverbird.
No claims to be the descendant of Jesus.
No conversations with God.
No calling up the Selangor State Government to ask if anyone there is having sex.

This entire entry is merely a plea for your attention.
Because with your help, I believe we can, as corny as it sounds, make a change.

So please go here to see what I'm talking about.
And if you can, lend us your support.
Thank you.

Pazuzu In Da House, Yo!

Disclaimer:
This is not a racist post. Being Indian, it is my God-given right to speak, behave and comment on issues that pertain to black people. Ya' dig?


What is up, my fellow Negroes? Have you managed to persuade any bitches and HOs to perform oral sex on you lately? If so, I am pleased for you! Let us engage in an unnecessarily-elaborate handshake ritual immediately!

Okay. Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I would like to ask my fellow brethren (especially my Indian brethren) a question. And that question is:

What the fuck?

I mean, don't you have enough problems as it is, you have to pretend that your ancestors were brought here as slaves, and because of that you have to spell your name with numbers and talk in rhymes to generic beats?

Let me say here that I'm not against black music. It's rap I don't get. I can't relate to it.
Black people used to SING about stuff that people could relate to. There was a time when, you'd have a black guy with only a slide-guitar, and he'd be wailing on and on about how he "done drank hisself a bottle of bourbon" because some "Devil-woman done stole his soul".

Now that's something we can all relate to.

But now, we have a bunch of Indian guys in some reality-talent show rapping about how difficult life is "in the hood" and it's all because of "Da Police" or something.

What the hell? What "hood"? Bangsar? Taman Tun? Where?

If you're Indian and you absolutely must rap, can't you rap about something that affects your community?
I mean, Denzel Washington has already won his Oscar, but Acappan hasn't won Best Actor for Whatever Acting Awards Thingy They Have Here, as far as I know. And that is an outrage!
Here's a sample of what would make a good Indian rap:

I climbed to the top of Everest
Then I died, but they won't let me have a Rest
In Peace, Yo!

And that's just off the top of my head.
Idiots.

And don't get me started on you Women. Because I'm going to start anyway:

Some moron MPs make a joke in parliament and you're all pretending to be outraged and shit, but when a black guy raps about leaving his bitches and HOs after they've performed an act that is unmentionable here because it is a family-friendly blog that would never use such words as blowjob, you're all bumping and grinding and humping the dance-floor like you're Beyonce or something.

If the MPs had said it in rap format, would that have made it ok?

Jasin: Batu Gajah leaks every month!
Featuring Beyonce: Uh huh! Uh huh!

Kinabatangan: Batu Gajah leaks every month, yo!
Featuring Beyonce: Fo' Shizzel My Nizzel!

Hah! I could just see all you women throwing your hands in the air and waving them like you just don't care as you read that.

I have many more examples of how you lot have about as much credibility as Vanilla Ice, but unfortunately I'm leaving now to drink myself a bottle of bourbon because some Devil-woman done changed the locks on my door.

Yo.




Soalan Bonus:

What's the deal with 50 Cent? Why does he pronounce his name Fi'ty Cent? Does he have a speech impediment? How come he can pronounce the first F but not the second?

Discuss.

Discussion Question:

If gay people are so oppressed, how come they're always so damn happy?
You don't see the rest of us skipping about the office all the time, do you?

Huraikan.


Disclaimer:
I'm not against gay people, I'm just against exceedingly happy people. Okay? Sheeesh.

OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod!!!

Guess what? Guess what? Guess what???










Well?










What the hell?












Are you going to guess or not?








Fine. Whatever.
Annnyyyway....guess what? No wait. We just went through that.
So I suppose I should just come out and tell you the good news:

Ahem...I, Pazuzu, have just....OhGosh...I don't know what to say....I mean, this comes as a total surprise...I mean...you see it happen to other people and you think "could it happen to me?"...and then you think "can you use quotation marks for thoughts?"...and then you think maybe I should use italics...and then you think "Fuck it. I'll use both just in case"...


So anyway, as I was saying (I'm saying this out loud as I'm writing, okay? So don't get all technical with me), I, Pazuzu, have just won...




A Thinking Blogger Award!!!


And...


I, Pazuzu, have just won...

A Thinking Blogger Award!!!


No. I'm not drunk and repeating myself.
You see, I have actually won two Thinking Blogger Awards! One for this blog and one for my other blog and one for the little blog who lives down the lane! Which would actually mean that I have won three Thinking Blogger Awards except that that last bit was actually just a really humourous lyrical reference to the song Baa Baa Black Sheep and fuck it, never mind.

Two is enough.
Because, as far as I can tell, no one else, in the history of the world, has ever won TWO Thinking Blogger Awards. I verified this by Googling "Has anybody besides me, Pazuzu, won TWO Thinking Blogger Awards, in, like, the history of the world or anything?" and Google replied that:


Your search - "Has anybody besides me, Pazuzu, won TWO Thinking Blogger Awards, in, like, the history of the world or anything?" - did not match any documents.


If you don't believe me, you can damn well Google it yourself.
And, if Google says I'm the only one, then it must be true.
So, years from now, when some history teacher asks who was the only person to ever win TWO Thinking Blogger Awards and some dumbass kid answers "Gandhi" or something equally moronic, the teacher can whack him or ask him to ketuk-ketampi or administer whatever punishment they deem fit in the future for stupid kids who don't know their history.

Anyway, you might want to know that I received the award for this blog from a mysterious fellow named Mr Incognito who has a blog called Almost Anonymous who presented this award to me while wearing pantyhose over his head:




Photo courtesy of Jeff Ooi

Mr. Incognito then instructed me, at gunpoint, to name five blogs that make me think, before running off in a suspicious manner to a nearby 7-eleven. He did not say what the blogs should make me think of, but since this is a family-friendly blog which does not use dirty words like pipet, buret and penunu, I will resist nominating sex-related blogs like LilyLiverbird's.


So, here are the five blogs that make me think about non-sex-related things:


1) Aisehman - Political blogger who writes about politics in a very non-biased, non-sexual way although he does sometimes use dirty words so you shouldn't read it if you're a prude and can't stomach words like "Khairy".

2) The Road Less Travelled - Politics with humour, which, come to think of it, is not much different from what we get everyday in parliament. But. Oh well.

3) GemmaRose's - This blog boggles my mind. It makes me think "Wasn't there a blog here a few weeks ago?"

4) Potshots - It makes me think "Isn't this the same post I read last month?". I usually read it again anyway.

5) Lim Kit Siang - I never actually read his blog but, as is my right as a Rakyat, I keep tagging him with these ridiculous things to see if he'll respond. He never does. Typical politician.


There are some rules or shit that you poor tagged sods have to follow. They're really boring so I've put them in small print:


Note to tagged bloggers:
Congratulations, you won a Thinking Blogger Award!
Should you choose to participate, please make sure you pass this list of rules to the blogs you are tagging.
I thought it would be appropriate to include them with the meme.
The participation rules are simple:

1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think,
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote.

Remember to tag blogs with real merits, i.e. relative content, and above all - blogs that really get you thinking!


Oh, and since this is a Thinking Blog, I thought this post should end with something for you to think about. Something like those pictures psychologists show people and then they ask them "So, what does this picture make you think about?".

So I've closed my eyes and just scribbled this random shape from my subconcious which makes me think about gravity and it's effect on the public transportation industry vis-a-vis the financial analysis of the Darfur situation which might be, according to sources who decline to be named, a paradigm shift:

Now think, dammit! Think!

Weekend Fun: Get Lost

For Weekend Fun this week, I suggest you take Monday off and get the hell out of here.
I am.

And in my absence, I am putting A Babe of Very Little Brain in charge of keeping the comment box going, an area in which she has vast experience.

Note to GemmaRose: No insulting me in the comment box till I get back. Not fair if I can't reply.

This is The Floating Turd, Flushing off.
Till next week.

I'm a Creep, I'm a Weirdo, He's a...

Warning:
I thought this'd be funny but it ended up being creepy. I mean, really really creepy. Do not read while eating. In fact, do not read at all. Okay fine. You asked for it. Here we go:

: Push, honey! Push!! Breathe!! Breathe!!!

: I am pushing, dammit!

: You're doing fine, sweetheart!! Fine!!

: Don't you tell me I'm doing fine! You're not the one who has to...aaarrrggg...

: Almost there, munchkin!! Almost there!!! I can see the head!!!

:...hhhaaaaaarrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhhh....

: Just...a...bit...mo...

:...arrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhgggghhhhhh!!!!!!

: Mr and Mrs Vellu-Jackson, it's a bo...I mean..gir...err...well, it's healthy:

Told you so. Sometimes, I hate the places where my mind takes me. Urrrggghh. Oh, and if you don't watch American Idol and have no clue who the guy above is, whatever.

The Long-Awaited Return of Weekend Fun: New Old Wives' Tales

Okay-okay, I know. I've neglected Weekend Fun for sometime now. The thing is, I've been busy with work and saving the country and wait where're you going?
Come back, dammit!
Don't you walk away from me, young man/woman!
That's it. Sit your ass back down.
There. Hah!
Who's your Appa?
WHO'S YOUR APPA?

Who?

That's right, dammit.
And your Appa says you'll have some Weekend Fun this weekend even if you're utterly miserable doing it.
Understand?
Good.

So:

This week's episode of Weekend Fun is about a topic that has the added bonus of being not only ageist, but sexist as well. It's about:

Old Wives' Tales!

Historians often argue, sometimes violently, about the origins of many Old Wives' Tales. That is why, if you see a bunch of historians enthusiastically having a debate at your local pub, it's best not to get involved. They're a crazy bunch, those historians, and they'll think nothing of boring you to death with the story of how J.W.W. Birch, having spied a local man pleasuring himself, decided to name a town after the man's act, but, like clueless white people often do, mispronounced the Malay word for the aforementioned act.

The reason historians are at loggerheads about the origins of Old Wives' Tales is because many of them (the tales, also the historians) don't make much sense.
Take, for example, this popular Old Wives' Tale:

If you put your elbows on the table during dinner, old people will yell at you

If you dissect (using a pipet, buret and penunu) this Tale, and examine, using a microscope, the Tale's trachea, bronchus, bronchiole dan dubur, you will find that it makes no sense whatsoever. Because unless your elbows are up on the table and your arms are pointing upwards, and your fists are clenched with the exception of your middle finger, there is absolutely no reason why this should be considered rude. And hence, there is no reason for the aforementioned old person to yell at you.

So how then did this and other nonsensical Old Wives' Tales start?

The most plausible theory is that the Old Wives, bored of knitting and emptying the chamberpot while waiting for their Old Husbands to come back from the Old Pub (they would sometimes wait for months), simply made them up!

And the reason why there are no New Old Wives' Tales is because women these days are too busy with their "careers" because they're now "equal to men" except during Valentine's Day when the Man damn well better do something otherwise he is is Big Trouble. So, like The Tourism Minister said, it's only the unemployed women who have the time to make shit up. Which is why this tradition has been grossly neglected.

So that brings us nicely to what you can do this weekend for your Weekend Fun! You can:

Start a New Old Wives Tale!!

And in this age of 'gender-equality' where even men can be Wives, anyone can participate! I'll start the ball rolling with my own New Old Wives' Tale:

If you pat a dwarf twice on the head, it will bring you good luck

If you see a dwarf walking down the street, pat him on the head twice (it should be an even number, so if you accidently pat him thrice, you should pat him again). The dwarf will think you're merely being friendly and you will, I don't know, win the lottery or become the Prime Minister's son-in-law or something.

See?
That wasn't so hard! Try it yourself!
In fact I'm going to force you to try it by tagging you. I tag The Former Liverbird, Leen Ashburn, Anttyk, Sicko, Lim Kit Siang, and, because he still hasn't updated, Daryl Chan.

Update: And the only person who actually wants to be tagged - Babe.

Hah!

Who's your Appa?

WHO's YOUR APPA?

Damn straight.

Get Your FREE Virtual UniTee-Shirts Now!!

Although it wasn't reported in the mainstream press (as usual), I'm sure you all know by now that I, Pazuzu, am going to be your next Prime Minister once my party - PUNDAK - wins the next General Election.

So to celebrate the launch of PUNDAK, I am generously giving away FREE Virtual UniTee-Shirts now at PUNDAK's official site!

Do your part for your country and whatever!

Vote PUNDAK!!

Heroes: Save The Cheerleader, Save Malaysia!

Khairy: I must use The Power of The Father-in-Law to kill the Cheerleader!!

Samy: I will headbutt the Cheerleader with my Ridiculous Helmet Hair!!

Hishamuddin: I will kill the Cheerleader by waving my Magic Keris!!

Mahathir: I will arrest the Cheerleader under the ISA and then pretend I had nothing to do with it!

Pak Lah: Zzzzzzzz....huh? ....zzzzzzzzz....Cheerleader? ...zzzzzzzzzzzzz...

Lim Kit Siang: I will save the Cheerleader only if she's Chinese!

PAS: We will ban the cheerleader from wearing that short skirt and doing those sexy moves!!

Anwar: Mahathir is evil!! Mahathir is...what Cheerleader?

Khir Toyo: I will tell my goons to call up the Cheerleader and ask her if she's having sex!!

Cheerleader: HaHaHa!! Too late, evil villains! Behold my Magic Cheer of Justice for All:

Gimme a P!

Gimme a U!

Gimme an N!

Gimme a D!

Gimme an A!

Gimme a K!

Put it all together and what do you get?

The Price of Fame: Sex, Money, Girth

I've been busy this past month. I mean, really really busy. In fact, I've been so busy that

Commercial Break

Rani: Amma, will boys ever like me?

Amma: Not unless you use Fair & Lovely Fairness Cream.

10 years later...

Rani: Thanks to Fair & Lovely Fairness Cream, I now have a husband!

Husband: Rani! Get me a beer, dammit! PUNDAKKKK!!!!

Rani: PUNDAK?

Husband: Yes! PUNDAK!

Rani: What's PUNDAK?

James Earl Jones: PUNDAK is coming soon. Watch this space. We now return you to regular programming.


Damn commercials.
Anyway, as I was saying, I've been so busy that I've not even had time to reply to most of my e-mails.
You see, since I started blogging many people have been e-mailing me with various offers and propositions and stuff. Everybody wants a piece of me. But, you know what? Fame isn't all it's cracked up to be.
So, in order to show you, my loyal readers and the papparazzo, what I, as a famous person, have to go through, I have decided, by using many commas in this sentence, to publish some of my fan-mail here. Enjoy:

___________________________________________

From: Sylvia
To: the.hideout@Hotmail.com

Hi there! I am Ukrainian housewife who are lonely and horny! I would like to meet you! I am sure we can have a good time for relationship/marriage.

Reply:

Dear Sylvia,
I am touched by your offer for relationship/marriage and I really would like to meet you to discuss how we can work together to overcome your loneliness and horniness.
However, I'm afraid The Ukraine is too far away from where I am (Kuala Lumpur), and there really is no guarantee that you will still still be horny when I get there, is there?
As such, I am proposing that we meet halfway. Is Kathmandu okay?
Please let me know.

Cheers,
Pazuzu.

PS. You also stated that you are a housewife. What does your husband think of all this?

____________________________________________



From : [GainsOf2Inches]
Sent : Wednesday, March 28, 2007 6:35 AM
To : the.hideout@hotmail.com
Subject : -=SatisfactionGuaranteed=-


AddGirth andLength -- MillionsOfOthers alreadyHave!


Reply:

What the hell? How dare you?! Who the hell do you think you are? Has someone been spreading rumours about my girth and length? Listen you fuckers, I don't care if millions of others already have, okay? I'm perfectly happy with my girth and length. Okay? I've never had any complaints. Well, except that one time when...but...it was cold dammit! And I had too much to drink, okay? Listen. I'll have you know that women from as far away as The Fucking Ukraine want me, ok? For relationship/marriage! So obviously, there have only been good reviews about my girth and length in the grapevine. I think.
Bastards.

Fuck you,
Pazuzu.


____________________________________________

From The Desk Of Mr.Aziz Moustafa
The Head Of File Department,
Bank of Africa (BOA)
Ouagadougou Burkina-Faso West Africa.
Phone: 00226-7616 94 13.
PLANE CRASH WEB SITE... http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/859479.stm.

("REMITTANCE OF $22.5 MILLION U.S.A DOLLARS CONFIDENTIAL IS THE CASE")
Compliments Of The Season 2007,
Forgive my indignation if this message comes to you as a surprise and may offend your personality for contacting you without your prior consent and writing through this channel.I got your contact from the proffesional data base found in the banking internet tourist search.When i was searching for a foreign reliable partner.I assured of your capability and reliability to champion this businees opportunity.
After series of prayers/fasting.i was divinely directed to contact you among other names found in our banking internet data base tourist search.I believe that God has a way of helping who is in need.
I am (Mr.Aziz Moustafa),the Head of file Department in BANK OF AFRICA (BOA).
In my department we discovered an abandoned sum of $ 22.5 million U.S.A dollars ( Twenty two million five hundred thousand dollars) . In an account that belongs to one of our foreign customer who died along with his entire family on ( Monday, 31 July, 2000, 13:22 GMT 14:22 UK) in a plane crash. Since we got information about his death, we have been expecting his next of kin to come over and claim his money because we cannot release it unless somebody applies for it as next of kin or relati on to the deceased as indica ted in our banking guidelines, but unfortunately we learnt that all his supposed next of kin or relation died alongside with him at the plane crash leaving nobody behind for the claim. It is therefore upon this discovery that I and one official in my department now decided to make this businness proposal to you and release the money to you as the next of kin or relation to the deceased for safety and subsequent disbursement since nobody is coming for it and we don’t want this money to go into the bank treasury as unclaimed bill.
The Banking law and guideline here stipulates that if such money remained unclamed after five years, the money will be transfered into the Bank treasury as unclaimed fund. The request of foreigner as next of kin in this business is occasioned by the fact that the customer was a foreigner, and a Burkinabe cannot stand as next of kin to a foreigner. We agree that 30 % of this money will be for you as foreign partner, in respect to the provision of a foreign account, 10 % will be set aside for expenses incured during the business and 60 % would be for me and my woman colleague. There after i will visit your country for disbursement according to the percentages indicated.
Therefore to enable the immediate trnansfer of this fund to you as arranged, you must apply first to the bank as relations or next of kin of the deceased indicating your bank name, your bank account number, your private telephone and fax number for easy and effective communication and location where the money will be remitted.Upon receipt of your reply, I will send to you by fax or email the text of the application I will not fail to bring to your notice that this transaction is hitch free and that you should not entertain any atom of fear as all required arrangements have been made for the transfer.
You should contact me ( 00226-7616 94 13) immediately as soon as you receive this letter. Trusting to hear from you immediately.

Your’s faithfully,
Mr.Aziz Moustafa
FROM (BOA) OUAGADOUGOU BURKINA-FASO. GOD BLESSINGS,PROTECTIONS AND GUIDIANCE TO YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY.


Reply:

Dear Mr. Aziz Moustafa,
When I first read your letter, I thought "Holy Shit!! 22.5 Million US Dollars!!". To be perfectly honest, I really could use the money.
But what I find hard to believe is that God has put you in contact with me. You may not know this - God used to be my Secretary, but I had to let him go after I discovered that I was the descendant of Jesus Christ. Err..well, it's all a bit complicated, really.
But, since I am a completely non-judgemental kinda guy, I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, and meet you to discuss this matter further. I will be meeting a lady friend of mine soon in Kathmandu, Nepal. I believe this is also halfway between Kuala Lumpur and Burkina-Faso. I hope you can arrange to meet me there with your woman friend and maybe, if you're into this kind of thing, we can swap friends for a day.
My lady friend is lonely and horny and I do think she will be up for it.
Do let me know soon.

Cheers,
Pazuzu.


There. Back to work now.
Sigh.


____________________________________________

Breaking News: He's After Me!!

Khir: IWK main polluter

SEWAGE management company Indah Water Konsortium Sdn Bhd (IWK) has been accused of being the main source of river pollution in Selangor, Mingguan Malaysia front-paged.
Selangor Mentri Besar Datuk Seri Dr Mohd Khir Toyo said the state government decided to expose IWK because the company failed to provide quality service, as several rivers in the state were polluted with ammonia and waste.
He said the other river polluters were the construction sector, factories and industries.
“We want the ministry to review the privatisation of IWK, which I think has failed.

Source: The Star


Chronology of Events:

1) University does study which finds that kids are having sex

2) Khir Toyo, unhappy with findings, says "No way!" and instructs his goons to call up kids and ask them if it's true that they're having sex.

3) Kids, when contacted by State Government Officials and asked if they're having sex, say "Errr...No". Duh.

4) The Floating Turd, vigilante hero of the people and shit, calls up Khir Toyo's office to ask them if Khir Toyo is having sex. They are unable to confirm.

5) In what is clearly an act of revenge, Khir Toyo slams IWK, an innocent party, for allowing "floating turds to go free" and instructs his goons to call up IWK and ask if IWK is having sex.

6) In an act of heroic defiance, The Floating Turd arranges to have sex with a horny Ukranian housewife in Kathmandu.

Your move, Toyo!

I'm Not Weird, Everyone Else Is

I suspect that Lily Liverbird is "doing the deed" with YAB Datuk Seri Khir Toyo. I also suspect that because of this, she is nervous about what my investigations into his sex life might uncover. Which is why she's evilly tried to distract me by tagging me.

But she won't succeed. Do you hear me, Lily Liverbird? SHOULD I SPEAK IN CAPITAL LETTERS? CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW? YOU WON'T SUCCEED IN THWARTING MY INVESTIGATIONS INTO YAB DATUK SERI KHIR TOYO'S SEX LIFE!

Okay. Now that she gets the picture, I guess I have to respond to the tag. Here it is:


6 Weird Things About The Floating Turd


2) I have Fear of Changing Rooms (Quadreflectophobia)

Actually, in this case, I'm not weird. Changing rooms are weird. The ones in apparel stores, I mean.
Or are they called Fitting Rooms?
Whatever.
You see, when you change clothes at home, it's relatively simple. Take something off, put something on.
But when you're in a Changing Room, suddenly everything's so damn confusing. You're in there with, like, four pairs of pants or whatever. And then you're taking one off and putting another on and then taking it off and putting it on. And you have to keep track of what you've taken off and what you've put on.
And then there are four mirrors all around you. So now instead of one person with four pairs of pants in there, it looks like there are four Yous with 16 pairs of pants.
I mean, seriously, what the fuck?
There have been times when I've been so traumatised by the all the confusion that I have realised, just as I'm about to unlock the door and leave the room, that I'm still in my underwear.
Really.
And one day, it will happen. I'm sure of it.
I'll just walk out in my underwear, holding a pair of jeans or something and say to the salesgirl "Do you have 1 size bigger?" (Yes. I realise I'm opening up an opportunity for you to make a joke about my penis-size here. Knock yourself out).
I really will.
It's only a matter of time.


5) Yes-yes. I don't drive.

But once again, it's not really me who's weird.
Here's a typical conversation between me and a person who drives:

Driver: I was caught in the fucking jam!

Me: Uh huh.

Driver: Again!

Me: Yes.

Driver: And the fucking price of fucking petrol has gone up!

Me: Yes.

Driver: And can you believe the cost of parking? And tolls? Bloody Samy Vellu!

Me: Uh huh.

Driver: And then this morning this bastard cut me off and he had the fucking nerve to show me the finger. I tell you, these fucking KL drivers, man! Seriously! You know what I'm saying?

Me: No.

Driver: Huh?

Me: I don't drive.

Driver: You're weird.


I'm weird? What the hell?
Here's what it's like with me. I get into a cab. I let my mind work on important things such as figuring out scientific definitions for obscure fears. I get out of the cab. Stress-free.
And I'm the one who's weird?

Having said that, I don't really not drive by choice. I probably would if I could.
The problem is, my mind prefers to be anywhere but the actual geographical location that my body is in.
So if I was driving, my mind should be thinking:

That's a red light. I suppose I should stop.

But in fact, my mind will be thinking something like:

If I win an Oscar, how should my acceptance speech be? Should it be short and sweet? Funny? What if nobody laughs? What if I fuck-up on the delivery? Who should I thank? Will people be offended if I don't thank them? Why is this so difficult? Fuck it. I just won't thank anybody. Was that a red light, just now? And why is there blood splattered across my windscreen? But surely I have to thank my mother? And my sister? But if I thank them, then I'll have to thank...

So it's probably best that I don't drive. For everyone's sake.
Sigh.
That's me. Always thinking of other people.

True fact (as opposed to an untrue fact):
I don't know a damn thing about cars either. I once got into the back seat of a Wira through the front door, thinking it was a Satria.



3) I hate phones and other forms of technology

The telephone, as you all know, was invented by Isaac Newton after an apple fell on his head and he wanted to call up the apple-tree guy and yell at him but then realised he had nothing to call him up with.
Since then, the phone has become the most misused piece of technology in the history of everything.
I mean, I'm not totally against phones.
Sometimes, they can be useful.
Such as those times when you absolutely have to call up the Selangor State Government to find out if YAB Datuk Seri Khir Toyo is having sex.
Or, if you're desperate for some cash, you can call up McDonalds and have them deliver a McChicken Meal and McNuggets to the home of the CEO of KFC. Then you can wait outside the CEO's house and take a picture (with your phone!) of the transaction and threaten to release the picture on the internet if he doesn't give you a million bucks or something.
But phones were not meant for conversations!
Conversations were meant to be had in pubs. Preferably fuelled by copious amounts of beer.
I am always suspicious of people who like to have long conversations on the phone. Why do they not want the person on the other end to see their face? I think there's a good chance that these people are liars.

True fact:
I only learned to sms last year. Or maybe the year before. I still hate it.

True fact again:
I also hated the internet until I started blogging. Years ago, when I was staying in Pantai Dalam, my e-mail address was something@pd.jaring or something. I thought the pd stood for Pantai Dalam. Lily Liverbird, who is evil, loves to remind me of this.


6) I don't eat seafood or vegetables

I don't eat seafood because I don't trust things that can breathe underwater. Think about it. If you travelled to a planet where you couldn't breathe without an oxygen tank and you encountered an alien being, would your first instinct be to eat it?

I don't eat vegetables because I am against the senseless murder of innocent plants. Human beings breathe oxygen. Animals use up oxygen. Plants produce oxygen. So, logically, which one should we kill? Animals or plants?

Exactly.

I also don't eat seafood or vegetables because they taste yucky.


4) I oppose Knowledge and advocate Nonsense

Knowledge is the Enemy of Thought. Because the more you know, the less you try to figure out. The less you try to figure out, the less you know. So, the more you know, the less you know.
You know?

No?
Good.

Because if you know what I'm talking about, then you don't know what I'm talking about. Or do you?

Whatever.

I don't care if you think I'm talking nonsense.
Nonsense is underrated.
Your judgement is clouded by logic and reason.
Mine isn't.

1) I hate Order

I hate lists. I hate step-by-step instructions. I hate manuals. I hate Aturcara-Majlis. I hate planners and filofaxes - there's something robotic and arrogant about knowing where you'll be next Tuesday at 3.25.

I especially hate forms.
With their tiny little boxes where you have to fill in your little alphabets and then you realise with mounting dread that there isn't going to be enough boxes to fill in your whole address and now what are you going to do?
So you start trying to put two alphabets in each box and then you get to the end and then you realise that shit! There's a separate box for your poskod and negeri and shit and arrrrgggghhhhh!!!!


Just give me an empty sheet of paper.
And a pen.
And the world, for me, is as it should be.




xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


So there you go. I have to tag other people now, right?
Okay.
I tag Daryl Chan who is a psychotic genius and the weirdest person I know but who hasn't posted an entry for ages because, I suspect, he thinks people will steal his thoughts.

Update: Excuuuse Me, DATUK Toyos R' Not Us

Unless you're Leen Ash Burn and you've managed to somehow knock your head (heh heh), you will remember that in my last post, I said that:

"Since YAB Datuk Seri Khir Toyo thinks it's okay to invade people's privacy and ask them if they're having sex, it would be perfectly okay for us to call YAB Datuk Seri Khir Toyo and ask him if he's having sex (full story here)."

I hope that as responsible citizens of Malaysia - Negara Kita Yang Merdeka, you did as you were told. I mean, I even gave you the contact information, dammit. What the hell else do you want?

Anyway, to prove to you that I'm a practice-what-you-preach kinda guy, I tried to get in touch with YAB Datuk Seri Khir Toyo:

Please click here for audio before you read on (If the Play button doesn't work, click Download. I'm still trying to figure out this audio thing).

Okay-okay. I know what you're thinking:
Someone actually answered the phone! In a government department! And they actually transferred me to someone who wasn't out for tea!
I'm as shocked as you are.

But, overall, I'm disappointed. I didn't get to speak to YAB Datuk Seri Khir Toyo. And even though the person I spoke to seemed really nice, she didn't have the information I wanted. Typical government. They might as well be out for tea.

And there are a few things that I'm disturbed about:

Firstly, the phrase "soalan ini bercorak peribadi". Does this mean that we can't call people up and ask them if they're having sex? How come the government can but we can't? What if I join the government? Can I call people then?
So many questions. I think parliament should have some emergency parliamentary-thingy and sort this out once and for all, dammit.

CAN WE or CAN WE NOT call people up and ask them if they're having sex?

That's all I want to know.


Secondly, was that a threat? The whole "panggilan ini kami rakam" and telling me what my own phone number is? I mean, maybe it wasn't a threat. Maybe it was just an innocent statement. But if it is, why tell me what my own phone number is? Don't they think I know my own phone number?

Better to be cautious and take it as a threat. You all remember what to do with my body if I die, right? Okay. Phew. Just checking.

Annnyywayy, as I was sayingShitWhatWasThat??!!!

Oh. Sorry. Just a damn cat and some dramatic violin music in the background. Nothing to worry about. There's absolutely no one creeping up behind me at this very moment an gvofer vfgvkdcvhegfigerhg hefvriheg hefhvgwjhfwvbjfhv


oeuaryo


heuywe

d








.

Toyos R' Not Us

My favourite jingle of all time:


I don't wanna grow up
I'm a Toys R' Us kid
They got a million toys at Toys R' Us
That I can play with

From cars and trains to video games
And the prices are hard to beat (Gee Whizzzz!!)
I don't wanna grow up
Coz baby if I did

I wouldn't be a Toys R' Us kid
More games, More toys, Oh Boy!
I'll always be a Toys R' Us kid!


I am away. Without internet access (except from the cybercafe where I'm writing this). I'm visiting my Neverland for awhile. Where time is in the belly of a big-ass crocodile.

I need a break from Stupidity.
He's everywhere.
I saw him last in the form of the Selangor MB (Read what the idiot's done here).

Khir Toyo wants to know if young people are having sex.
Okay. Fair enough.
If Khir Toyo thinks it's all right for "his people" to call people up and ask if they're having sex, I think it's only fair that we reserve the right to call up "his people" and ask them if Khir Toyo is having sex.

Here is the contact information:

Pejabat Setiausaha Kerajaan Negeri Selangor,
Bangunan Sultan Salahuddin Abdul Aziz Shah,
40503 Shah Alam,Selangor Darul Ehsan.
No. Telefon Am SUK: (6)03-55447000
E-mel : webmaster@selangor.gov.my

I'm sure the friendly state government officials will be glad to answer the following questions:

1) Is Khir Toyo having sex?
2) With whom?
3) Did he ever have pre-marital sex?
4) Why not?
5) Come on. Surely he could've found someone to have sex with him?
6) You'll give me a hint?
7) Baaa?
8) What the hell does Baaa mean?
9) Shit. Really?

Please let me know the results to your findings when I get back from my Neverland.
Okay. I'm off. Second star to the right and straight on till morning.

This is The Floating Turd.
Flushing off.
For awhile.
See'ya.

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.

N...

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.


TAMAT


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.

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.