Rhythms of the Night

First, I want to introduce you an angel. Sometimes she comments here and sometimes I go and visit her. She has a nice blog that I think you will like. I find that she has a good sensible head on her shoulders and she has a gift for the language. When you read her blog, you feel as though you are watching a very engrossing romantic movie. You feel as though you are alone in a very quiet room listening to a very sentimental song. AND SHE TAGGED ME!

What’s the tag? I’m suppose to state 6 random facts about meself. I thought of doing it like thus,

I am an old monkey,

I have a big belly,

My foot is damn smelly,

I’m an ohkau kaki,

I like to watch porn movie,

And fiddle my little willy.

Buthen, since she is an angel, I’ll do a serious one.

1. I’m too blunt and straightforward for my own good.

Don’t know when and don’t know how, but I lost the art of patronisation. Offended quite a few people but i have no regrets offending them.

2. I don’t pre-plan anything I do.

Always doing things on impulse has cost me quite a lot, but till today, i still am doing things without careful consideration of the end results. Stubbornly believing that if you look at things in too many different angles, considering too many things, nothing will be done.

3. I can endure, but I don’t have a strong willpower.

Are endurance and willpower the same thing? If you say I don’t have a strong willpower, how on earth did I endure 11 hours on the road finishing a 60 km. run/walk. How on earth did I complete the marathon that I took part a few months back. But if I am so strong willed, how on earth did I fail to give up smoking after 3 attempts?

4. I can’t resist good food.

I binge.

5. I don’t know how to save.

Whenever my wallet is a little bulgy, I tend to splash, never stopping to think I might need some for a rainy day. That’s why I am almost always broke!

6. I am a total failure!

For a man who had lived for 18,250 days, I am a total failure. When everyone else my age has already made his fortune and on the verge of retirement, I am still here, worrying about next week’s expenses. People like me are considered, ‘’Don’t die also no use lah" 

Think I’ll tag MsLenglui and Titoki with this one.  

August 30th. Without fail, each year around this time, the earth beneath our feet begins to stir. Like the boiling magma within our earth’s crust being disturbed by some unseen force, the earth begins to heat up, causing all the earth worms that have been living lazily all this while, to wriggle out, trying to escape the increasing heat. By the stroke of midnight, the earth, that has been relatively quiet throughout the year, will be manifested with worms of a certain nature.  The roads will be teeming with them.  They will be roaring their way, not caring about the safety of others as well as themselves. They can do super stunts belittling even the greatest stuntmen. Ladies and Gentleman of this great country, let’s welcome the Mat Cermerlangs!! formerly known as Mat Rempits.

Tonight is open season for them. All they have to do is to stick a big flag at the back of their ‘Kaps’ and then while tearing down the roads, shout "Merdeka!" and the authorities will turn a blind eye. They are patriots of the country, and you don’t arrest patriots for small petty crimes like riding without a helmet, driving without a licence, breaking the speed limit, using a stolen vehicle and causing public nuisance. They are the future leaders! 

When after all their patriotic antics have ended, and they are tired, they head down for the beach for  their much deserved rest, before they start all over again, going on throughout the night. They leave the beautiful beaches with souvenirs of old newspapers, Kentucty fried chicken wrappers, and used condoms splattered all over the beautiful white sand. 

Come daylight, the earth miraculously reverts back to it’s natural temperature, and all the worms will reluctantly crawl back into their respective holes, laze around not wanting to fertilise the land that they are suppose too, but always complaining that they are not given enough to chew on. It’s their land after all, they say.      

Lilian posted about giving birth and she posed a question as to how we men would feel about being in the delivery room and witnessing the whole bloody mess miracle of child birth.  Frankly, I have never had the previledge of witnessing such a  phenomena, firstly because all 4 daughters of mine were born in a Government Hospital where they don’t allow husbands in, and secondly, even if they did, I don’t think I would want to watch. 

I think those fathers who are there to see the whole thing pocesses something that I seriously lack. Sentimentalism. If there is ever such a word. It takes a very sentimental and romantic kind of guy to want to share the labour with his wife. They say they were overwhelmed by the feeling of warmth and love when they see a new life being born. I think I would probably puke at the sight. Now you ladies and all those sentimental and romantic guys can go ahead and screw me upside down, but seriously, I don’t think I can stomach the sight. I mean, it’s not as though the baby will just slip out and start giggling or anything. It’s such a bloody affair. I’m very selfish ain’t I? The misus is screaming her lungs out, and I am smoking a cigarette outside. Buthen, I’m also feeling very nervous outside you know.

Then there is the after effect of witnessing such a mess miracle. I don’t think I’ll be able to look at the lovely cheebai with the same lustful feeling ever again. I might even become impotent. That would not be very good would it? For both of us I mean.     

I was never ‘educated’ in sex. Have you? I don’t think so. Till today, even with all the hoo hah about having sex education in school and all, is there really a subject in the school time table that says, "sex" along with "maths". "geography" or "history"? I don’t think I’ll see this in my life time. Not with all those religiously and morally correct people around. Heck, we can’t even have a simple kissing scene on our TV and you want to learn about sex in school?

When I was in, I think, Form Two or something, a lady teacher came to our class one day and asked all the girls to follow her to the school hall. They closed up all the doors at the hall and something went on inside, for girls only. Of course there some curious cats among us who crept to the back of the hall to try and find out what the secrecy is all about and by the time school was over, we were teasing all the girls in class about the "Roti". Well, at least they had their ‘Sex Education’.

Then when I moved on to Form Five, we had a subject called Health Science. In the text book, there is a chapter on ‘The Reproductive Organs in Humans’ where we were presented with the drawings of the male and female reproductive organs, showing the penis, the testes, the ovaries and all. It was a very important chapter and you can rest assured that these 2 diagrams will appear in the year end examinations, so all of us were experts in the reproductive systems having mastered and memorised the drawings by heart. However, the teacher that taught us the subject saw otherwise. The day before we were to touch on that chapter, she issued a verbal warning to all the male monkeys in class that she will not tolerate any questions on that subject. The next day, she practically read the text from the book word by word and that’s it. No explanation. Nothing. So now, we all know how the women can get pregnant but still not knowing how to impregnate. 

Then we had another subject called "Modern Science" where we were encouraged to find for results through our own experiments and analyzation. There was also a chapter on the reproduction where we learned how the sperm will fertilise the egg and all. Since this subject emphasise on real time experiments, we were expecting something really educating from our teacher. Some pictures at least. We were disappointed. There were no graphic illustrations. But we still have do some experiments right? For this, our beloved Science teacher produced a small bottle of sperm for us to scrutinise under the microscope. We were to see how a real spermatozoa looks like and make a drawing of it. But hard as I tried, I can’t see a single thing, even when I set the microscope to it largest magnifying limit. So I tried to be funny and told the teacher that his sperm is no good cos I can’t see a thing, to which he replied, "Those are bull’s sperm" and to which, I innocently believed. Later on, when I was a little bit more matured I realised that it wasn’t that easy to get a bull to shoot his sperm for you.

That about sums up the ’sex education’ that i received in school. I don’t know if they still have these 2 subjects now. My real ‘education’ started after i dropped out from school. From those 8mm silent movies. They are actually not silent, but had to be silenced in order not to arouse suspicions from neighbours. Had to pay 20 bucks for entrance. That was lots of money back then, and that barger made a small fortune showing his weekly movies, and god knows how many lawyers, doctors and engineers that i could have produced got washed away into the drains.  

Since I am so obsessed by the lam pah these days, I’ll delve into another case which invloves the Lam Pah. No, this is not another part of our anatomy. This Lam Pah refers to a certain kind of humans that we fondly call  ‘Lam Pah Kek’. Now "Lam Pah Kek’ is an adjective. An adjective, according to my grammer teacher is a word that describe the noun, and noun is a name we use to address certain thing or person.’Lam Pah Kek" is a person. He can be called any name. He can be called Ah Yik or Samy or Mohd or maybe even Tony, but if we want to decribe the man more effectively when making a sentence, we use the Adjective, ‘Lam Pah Kek’ Thus, Instead of writing a senseless sentence like " My boss’s name is Samy" you can add the adjective and write the sentence this way. "My boss’s name is Samy, he is a Lam Pah Kek" Now doesn’t that sentence sort of make people see more of the real Samy? That’s the power of languages. But today, we are not here to learn  English. We are here to discuss the "Lam Pah Kek"

Now what on this farking earth is a "Lam Pah Kek"?, my dear Simple American may ask. To make it easier for people to comprehend this word, let’s break it up. "Lam Pah" as explained yesterday means ‘Balls’ Right? Now ‘Kek’ means "Guest’. Link them together and you get? ta-daaaaa…. "Ball’s Guest"!!!. Still blur? Come on… "Ball’s Guest". The Guest of the Balls. Okay, how do friends react when they are your guest? They are very patronising aren’t they? They tell you your lice-infected dog is cute. They say your half wilted flower is beautiful. So in the same vein, the Guest of your Balls are the same. Still don’t get it? Ok, call them Balls Carrier! They are the ones that carry your balls sky high. Sure you have heard of Balls Carrier haven’t you? Haiya.. Apple Polisher lah!

Now that we all know what a "Lam Pah Kek" means, what or who makes a good "Lam Pah Kek"?? I’ll leave that for some other day.. or maybe tommorrow. or maybe you can tell me?   

Of all the vital organs in our body, (i’m talking as a man ok) the ‘chun doi’  or ‘lam pah’ or ‘the balls’ if you will, is the most neglected organ of all. How is it that we take so much care to keep our heart healthy, our lungs in perfect condition, our liver in top form, but we never ever thought of taking care of our balls? We treat them so insignificantly, that some times we even forget that there are 2 nuts dangling down there. 

They are supposed to be the indispensable, for without them, we are no more a complete man. Once they are gone, the all important testerone manufacturing factory shuts down. You will become a eunuch. You are relegated to the pits of misfits called the ‘mou chun doi’ or ‘boh lam pah’ or if you don’t understand dialects, ‘you have no balls’. Men don’t like to be called that. No balls, I mean. You tell someone he has no balls and see. He will jump off a 20 storey building to prove that he still have balls. Being a ‘mou chun doi’ is a big insult to his ego. Especially if he is referred to as such by a woman.

But if it is so important how come we men never take proper care of it? There are tons of literature advocating the importance and the improvements of the ku ku ciao, but non on the lam pah. There are countless pills and herbs for enchancing the health of the ku ku ciao and for the chun doi? None also. How can that be? I am sure there are many enterprising people out there waiting to capitalise on this neglect, but why are they not doing anything? Or is it not worthwhile?

The only people I know who places a certain extent of importance on the balls are the Thais. I have spoken on their ball massaging skills, so I’m not going to repeat meself here, but the point is, they know the importance of balls health. That’s why their ancestors have devised ways to massage those balls and rejunevate them to their full glory. With healthy balls, you will feel young. You get better erection. The load you shoot out will be more wholesome. So, men, take care of your balls!!

 A poetic illustration - Cerita Pasal Lampah.

The block is still up and I can’t bring meself to write anything. But there was a temporary relieve this morning so I went and started a meme over at my other blog. I have never initiated a meme, so those whom I have tagged better give face. If not, i don friend you anymore.  

So I’ll be taking the road to ‘prima donna-ism’ You come to me. I won’t be going to you.  You like what you read, you read. If not, I can’t be bothered.  You want to comment, go ahead. You want to spam me, go ahead, i won’t be replying anyway. I’m going to do what all famous celebrities do, stand there and wait for people to come and scramble over me. Shake their hands only when they strecth out theirs first. And oh, I am going the master the art of the celebritiy’s handsake. When i offer my hand, you are just suppose to hold it lightly and then quickly let go. Don’t give me that firm, hard handshake. That’s not for celebrities like me. I won’t be grasping your hand too eagerly, that’s for sure.

I expect all of you to link me in your blogs,and when you are posting, i expect no less than one permalink per week. I am celebrity, remember that!. Linking a celebrity is good for your traffic. When on rare occasions that i finally link you back, you are to thank me profusely and feel indebted to me for the rest of your pitiful blogging life. You are to mention my blog at the slightest given apportunity and when I am in a good mood, I will visit your blog and put in a one sentence comment. You will be the envy of the sphere from thereon, because I commented on your blog. I am a celebrity, remember that! Having a celebrity comment on your blog is priceless!

You required by the laws of prima donna-ism to worship the keypad that I type on. You are also reminded to put my profile picture alongside that of your ancestors on your family alter. When I blogged that I farted, you must comment and say my fart is like air freshener. When I blog about the piece of nose shit that i dug out earlier, be alert enough to comment that it was a fantastic  piece of shit. Remember, when I’m happy, I might go visit your blog.

My name is Ah Pek! Remember that! Consider yourself previledged to have laid eyes on my blog!   

ok lah, ok lah. 10 q you all for the congrats. I wish I can really do as you all advised. Retire and shake me legs. But I still got 2 more in secondary school. No hope unless I strike toto this week. So I think I better pray hard hard every morning to my Yee Kor and hope he bless me with all his divine powers.

This is really farking boring so I really dowan start writing about my personal things. I mean, who on earth is interested to know. Everyone has their own problems. Buthen, dunno why, I think i have really lost my marbles. last time, when I have nothing to write, I go read some blogs and come back with something. but now, even reading blogs have become a chore of sorts. Like a commitment or something. Like if I don’t go and visit I will not be friend enough. And I don’t think that’s a good sign. I hate commitments. I like to do things according to what I feel at that moment. I don’t like to force myself to do things. That’s why I’m a bloody mess. Because I never force myself to do certain things.

Ok! ENOUGH! I thought I wasn’t suppose to rant about me. What the fark am I doing?! Ahhhhh!!!!! Let’s talk something else. Lets talk something Hamsap. Lets talk about positions. Can anyone tell me how to penetrat in this position? He won’t sprain his Ku Ku meh?

Just got the shots today, but 2nd. daughter also graduated a month earlier with a Diploma from Tar College.