So apparently, I avoid conflicts...and has a small ass

I'm always a sucker for personality tests. I dunno bout you guys but I have no problem whatsoever with answering questionnaires to get to know myself. I like talking about myself. I like writing about myself. I am my favourite subject. I mean, c'mon! I have a blog don't I? As my Sayang pointed out, I like the....how did she put it...rrrrright...... the "ATTENTION". Speaking of which it has been ages since I have any haters on this blog.





What's going on? Why are there no haters lurking around no more? I would like to say that no one hates me, but that would be like saying that I am as skinny as well.....Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Ritchie at the peak of their anorexia days. Which you guys as well as I know, is not true. My ass is so huge, it could engulf an entire nation. So haters, delurk yourselves. Leave me a hate comment.......or 3. C'mon, you know you want too. I'm feeling less ossum these days. I need y'all to be hatin' on me and be talking smack so that I can feel superior of my obvious ossumness and charisma that you worthless piece of shits are clearly lacking. So please, you and you and you, you know who you are, you've been lurking for far too long now. Time to unleash all that hatred and jealousy, time to call me fat and insult my friends.








You know you want too.








While we wait for you lot to grow some balls, I found another one of those personality quiz type thingy. This time it is courtesy of the good doctor Paul who posted about it on his blog. It's actually a site where they determine your personality through your writing style and as it turns out....I am a Performer.




So apparently through my writing style I am entertaining and friendly. Entertaining- yes. Friendly.......well it happens. Not often.....but still, it happens. On most days I'm actually bitchy as fuck. The "living in the present moment thing" is true though. Like the other day my mom asked me what I'm gonna pack when I make the move next year. I told her that I would like to bring all my 33 pairs of shoes, and then she got pissed off. Like, is it so wrong that I wanna bring all my shoes? Really? Then she went on and on about how I "never thinks ahead" and "flaky". So if my mom says I never thinks ahead and then this site confirmed it therefore it must be true.


See? The art of straight-thinking-bimbotic-logic. Mastered it, I haz.


However the kicker is this: "They tend to avoid conflicts and rarely initiate confrontations..."............................AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Omfg!!! Yes, this is true. I agree. Completely. I do avoid conflicts and never initiate confrontations. I also hate drama, am ridiculously shy and kill puppies during the weekends. Also, I have a small ass.


HAHAHAHA!!!


In any event I want you fellow bloggers to do this too. Make it like a tag-type thingy. Let me know what you get and if it's true. Mine gave me such a good laugh, it's ridiculous. This site should sustain me till my haters grow some balls and decide to be entertaining and insult me again. No seriously haters, come back. I miss y'all.



*****************************



On other news regarding other news that have nothing to do with the the previous news, I have changed the settings of this blog. Now there are only 5 posts on the main page, instead of 10 like it used to be. I think 5 posts instead of 10 would help the page load faster. Also I added more pinup girls on the side and a bigass one at the bottom of the page. Let me know if these additional photos is troublesome- page loading wise. I am nothing but accommodating towards my readers. I mean....whereelse will I get the "ATTENTION" from?


Right, sayang?

Endings could be joyful too you know...

Today is my last day in college. Okay, last day for going to classes in this college. Next year I will be flying off to complete my degree in another country. My degree is like this international twinning program thingy, hence the need to fly off. Next week is my finals, and after the 4th I will be done with this college forever.





Wow.





I feel ecstatic. I feel free. I feel so fucking ossum. I'm moving on bitches, I'm moving on. I know that this high would eventually wear off and then I will become sad and nostalgic thinking of the friends I'm leaving behind. Then all I'll have of this period in my life would be the memories we created together. The in-jokes. The stupid arguments. The drama (most of time created and made possible by me). The endless stupidity. The joy and laughter. Parting is such bittersweet sorrow. But for now I am ecstatic. I am joyful.





I am experiencing the feeling of satisfaction that could only be felt when one is taking a step forward in one's life. A feeling of progression. A feeling of complete and total ossumness.





So no, no bitching post today nor any stories regarding my adventures into stupidity (and God knows how many of those I actually have). Today I am zen.





Today.....I am happy.

That car was a ninja and it totally did ambushed me.....

I was involved in an accident last week. A vehicular accident. Actually "accident" is such a big word. It was more like....there was this car. And I uhhhh..kinda.....hit it. The worst part of it was that the car was stationary. How fucking sad is that? I drove into a stationary car and calling it a vehicular accident? Really, honestly. It is not my fucking fault okay. That car was a bitch.





It was around 8ish in the morning and I was leaving for class. I parked my car round the corner from my house on this abandon piece of land. That land can fit up to 3 cars and since we live near that spot, it is very convenient for me to park my car there. There was this other car that always park behind my car. Not exactly behind my car but damn near that whenever he parked his car behind mine, it is damn difficult to just reverse out. In fact I have to do that annoying go forward, reverse a bit, turn a bit, and then repeat 3 times before I can get out of the spot. Bastard.





So that morning I was more than a little bit preoccupied. I have Spanish quiz at 10am and basically my head was filled with Spanish verbs and future/past tenses. I barely acknowledged that car as I walked past it. I got in my car, put the gear into reverse, looked into the rear view mirror, smiled smugly at my perfectly groomed eyebrows, backed the car out and BANG!! All my smugness and my Spanish verbs went out of the window.





I remember screaming "Where the fuck did that car come from?!!" I got out of my car and there was this huge motherfucking dent at the backdoor of the car. Thankfully mine was all okay except for some paint transfer.








The first thought that came to my mind was "Oh fuck."


The second was "Oh fuck."


The third was "Run bitch! Run while you can!"








But alas by the time I could do anything my mom was already out the house. She looked at the car then she looked me standing there between my car and the victimized car then she looked at me straight in the eyes...... I mean fuck this happened near my house okay. If it happened like I dunno somewhere else, like 3897 meters away from my house I can just tell my mom "OMG Mom, it is soooo totally not my fault. Like I was driving according to the speed limit -being the law abiding citizen I am- then all of a sudden this raccoon jumped out of nowhere. I swear to God, a raccoon! On Federal Highway. I think it was nesting on one of the billboard...and I think it was rabid too....but it jumped on my car. It landed on my windshield and I screamed. I was so shocked that I lost control of my car but at the same time there was this parked car by the roadside...yes Mom a parked car on Federal Highway, I'm not making this up and I hit into that car. But don't worry that car is only dented. And I managed to deliver that raccoon to the nearest vet for psychiatrist evaluation. Poor baby. So you see Mom, it is totally not my fault. It's the raccoon's but we shouldn't blame it seeing that it's insane....." But of course I can't say that. Shit son...she saw the whole thing.





"And you expect me to let you drive my car?"


Wow, sarcasm is not appreciated at moments of life and death like this, okay Mom?





"How did you managed to drive into this car? It wasn't moving."


"It wasn't my fault! I did not see it there!"


"Constant Drama* (insert full name), it is a car. A car. A huge car. It is not a toy car....Do we need to get new prescription for your glasses?"


"The sarcasm is really not appreciated at times like this. This stupid car should not be parking so near to me. It's not my fault........."


*dirty looks* "Constant Drama, you backed your car into a parked car. As in the car is not moving. Nooooottt moooooooving. How is that not your fault?"





I learned at a young age that upon fucking up big time, one must keep one's mouth shut so that's what I did.





"You have a quiz today? Go to class. I'll deal with this. And your father will know about this too."





Fuck.





I'm telling you, I was on the verge of dying of a heart attack that whole day in college. All I could think was how my Dad was gonna kick my ass. Figuratively speaking of course. Wah, it was damn scary. It was like being an inmate on death row. Then I decided that instead of running away from my problems, I should confront it....so I called my Dad. I was all matured and shit.








"Dad.... I wanna talk to you about what happened this morning."


"I'm busy. We talk about it when I come home."


Then he hung up. On me. His last born!! I'm telling you...the inmates on death row got it easy compared to me. When he got home, we did have a talk about it. Actually....it was more of him yelling and me keeping quite and trying to shrink into a corner. However this is impossible seeing that my fat ass cannot fit into any corners.



"Ayah...Adik serious tak nampak kereta tu kat situ."

*Dad, I seriously did not saw that car there.



"Oh kau kena ambush lah ni? Apa keter tu macam ninja? Ambush ko dari belakang?"

*Oh so you were ambushed? Was that car a ninja? Did it ambush you from the back?


No, seriously. He said "ninja". I swear, one day when my parents are not at home I am gonna fake a burglary in my house. Disarm the alarm system, brake the windows, thrashed the whole place to make it look like a burglary and the only thing be missing is his damn ninja movies collection. Especially the Akira Kurosawa samurai movies. And if the cops asked how come the burglars didn't steal the plasma TV or the laptop or whatever I'm gonna say...."Well perhaps the burglars were ninjas and they don't want mere mortals, such as my father, to learn their secret ways." In any event, his ninja movies collection have got to go.


And then there were more yelling, numerous versions of his monologue of "money don't grow on trees" and then "you been driving for 3 years now, you should know better"- maybe 4 versions of that ending with my Dad taking away my car keys. That's right. He took my car keys.






Oh my heart! My heart cannot take it!


With that I conclude this story on a sad note. Friends, comrades, bitches: I will not be able to hang out with you guys cause my Dad is PMSing and took away my car keys therefore I ain't got no wheels. I can hang out with you if the place in which you want to hang out is within walking distance from my house. Like the mamak round the corner. Or if you are able to drop me off at the train station so I can get home. If this is not possible then you have to deal with the fact that I cannot grace your life with my presence. I know....I know what a bleak and sad existence your life would be, to be without me....I know it is going to be difficult for you. But you have to be strong okay? Be strong.



Ahem.



I ain't got no wheels and it sucks donkey balls.

Could this be the end of the Constantly Dramatic One?

No proper blog posting today.

I had a shitload to bitch about, a shitload but all that have to go into Drafts and publish on some other day. Why? Cause I totally just had a major anxiety attack resulting in me running around the house shouting incoherent gibberish, pulling my hair out and then accusing Ghendut, my golden hamster of stealing the last Vitagen in the house. Ghendut is now sulking and no longer on speaking terms with me. Fine bitch! Fine! See if you can get by in this life without me. You are nothing without me! Nothing!!! I made you what you are!

..........Oh come on Ghendut don't be like this. I love you. Who's my number one golden hamster? Who? Who? You are....you are. Fine, don't talk to me. I got more important shit to deal with. More important than you Ghendut. You're not all that. No no, I'm sorry. I don't mean that. Goddamn.

Anyways my important stuff consists of 3 class presentation, one in Spanish (my tongue is going to take a beating for this) and Finals in 12 days. I haven't started on anything.

I am going to die.

P/S: Sorry if I haven't been visiting your blogs. I cannot do it now. I cannot pay attention to what you wrote for my mind is too preoccupied with my impending doom. Shit should be fine after the 4th. Ta bitches, and stay ossum.

PP/S: Ghendut is still not talking to me.

So begins my life long phobia....

The following post that you are about to read is something that is very.......personal to me. It is something that is so......horrible that I spent a considerable amount of my life trying not to think about it. But alas....every time I see one of them lurking about, crawling around my fear is triggered back again. I will experience the now familiar feeling of nausea and the emotional, mental need to puke even though physically I do not need too.......The following post will depict my traumatic experience when I was assaulted by a cicak. A single experience that will change the course of my entire life........


Okay, not as dramatic of course. Hahaha! Just talking shit. Hey y'all, I am the Constantly Dramatic One. If there is no drama, I need to be creatin sum. You get what I'm saaaaaayyyiiiin?

I had several of my non-Malaysian readers asking me what a "cicak" is. By "several" readers, I mean precisely two of them. I used the word "several" so that I would come across as popular and cool, which I clearly am not. But it's okay, I live in my own world of make believe and in that world- I am the most popular girl. Ever.

Ever bitches, ever.

So I was thinking to myself......"Dude, wtf is cicak in English? Does it even have a name in English?.....Wait does cicak even live outside of this country?........". So I Google up "cicak" and all I found is this lameass Malay Wiki page but it did however provide me a clue. "Uh huh!! Those little bastards are geckos." Using my super ossum CSI skills, I Google Image "gecko" and I found those little, icky suckers. Apparently, they are called "house geckos"....well no big stretch of imagination there. And you can see how they look like if you click here. No way in hell I'm putting up pics of fucking cicaks on my page. Fuck off.

Those little slimy bastards must die.

So now let me explain why cicak scares the bejesus out of me. On why every time I see any one of them, my first impulse is to run like bitch while screaming like a banshee and then when I do find a safe cicak-free spot, proceed to puke. Totally. Right, let's take a trip down memory lane of a memory that I always try to forget but never could.........

The year was 199*, I was 13. (Ha! As if you bitches gonna know how old I am) and I was at one of my aunt's. I was pretending to watch the TV while trying as hard as I could to eavesdrop on my parents and my aunt and uncle while they're gossiping bout someone or other. Then out of the blue, my aunt told me to get some brand new silk sheets that she got in Thailand for my mom. She told me specifically that it is in the "big brown cupboard in the next room, go get it now cause I want to give it to your mother". Alright, fine. Whatevs. Like a good kid I went to get it and as it happens, this is the point in time in which the universe decided to Fuck. With. Me.

As it turns out, a cicak was trapped in said big, brown cupboard. I do not know how the damn cicak got in there okay, but it was there. And the night that I was supposed to get the bedsheets for my mom was the night where that damn cicak was trapped in the cupboard. Here is what I think happened: I think that cicak was freaking out that it was stuck in the cupboard so it went towards the crack of the door that was emitting some light in. So this would placed the cicak, right in between the cupboard door. Like half body is on the left door, vice versa. Little piece of shit was in the middle. At the same time I came in to get the bedsheets. Cicak was contemplating its eternal entrapment in the middle. I opened the doors to the cupboard. Cicak went flying off the door possibly screaming "OMGWTFBBQ!!!!" in cicak language.

I saw that cicak flying in the air and in a split second it landed. On my lips. That's right. I had a fucking cicak on my lips. I did not scream. I remember looking down and the cicak was staring up at me. Time stopped. Then it scurried down like a little bitch before stopping RIGHT BETWEEN MY BOOBS!!! Okay to be fair, I was 13. There wasn't much boobs, they were just growing after all but that's where that little icky fucker stop ok. My only consolation that it was on the outer part of my shirt. Thank God. Thank God. Thank God. Thank God. I dunno why it stopped between my boobs, maybe it was horny. I dunno. After that, that little fucker crawled down my body, stopped on my left foot then it disappeared. I was in shock. I just stood there for like a minute.

When the shock was over I ran like a bitch towards the sink. I washed my lips with water and that wasn't enough, I took some of my aunt's dish detergent and smeared it all over my lips and then wash some more. I repeated that like 5 times all the while not making noise. I didn't scream or anything like that, I think "shock" is the word we are searching for. Then I ran to the toilet because I had an overwhelming urge to puke which I did. My parents thought I was sick. I wasn't able to tell them that a cicak landed on my lips in between throwing up.

But it was horrible. After that incident I had this intense fear of flying cicaks and how they gonna land on my lips again. For a while, I even cover my face whenever I open any cupboards. Just in case. I haven't done that for a long time but cicaks still make me nervous. Every time I see a cicak, I could feel it on my lips. It's not fun. It's traumatizing and disgusting and just so damn wrong. Fucking cicak bastards.

Great. Now I'm all creep out again. Okay, let's look at cute photos of cats and dogs to be rid off this creepy cicak-related sensation on my lips....

Awww how cute is this dog? Forget bout the damn flying cicak CD, forget about it.

And this kitteh, awwww bless. Too cute. Awwww, and while we're at it let's look at how cute I was....

See, I was totally cute. Waaaay cuter than you when you were a kid.....ahem. This was the life before I was assaulted by a flying a cicak. A life free of cicak-related paranoia....I can't remember that life anymore....Why you flying cicak bastard? Whhhy?!!

I shake my fist at you!!

* This post is dedicated to Peter and Rujing, the two people who asked what exactly is a cicak.

** The cut off bit of my baby picture is because the date and year was there. Don't want people to figure out how old I am now, do I? I totally have age issue man....

This is not over you filthy Pizza Hut bastards!!!

Dude, I totally threw a bitch fit at Pizza Hut just now. Well not really a bitch fit....more like a righteous tirade. A really pissed off and loud righteous tirade. Which by the way……. totally scared the crap out of Farid.








Okay let me run this scene by you and see if you don't get pissed off too. You are with your good friend having a late lunch at Pizza Hut, which by the way you have indignantly championed from all your friends saying that Pizza Hut's pizza totally taste much better then Domino's. Okay so you are sitting there, munching on your second piece of personal pan pizza, discussing current events, resident college bitches and the perpetual never ending topic: the size of your ass when all of a sudden - a fucking cockroach appeared from the underside of the table, crawled all over the table near your plate that contained your damn food and then disappeared to the underside of the table again. Here's a multi choice answer:





a) Scream, push your chair back and then fall on your ass.


b) Stare at the cockroach in utter disbelief but do nothing.


c) Stare at the cockroach in utter disbelief, make your guy friend capture it by using a tissue, and then make a waiter call the manager so that you can give the manager a piece of your mind.








I picked option C.








Unlike most of the female population, the Constantly Dramatic One is not afraid of cockroaches. I am however, is shit scared of cicak. Cicaks are fucking creepy okay. But I do know that cockroaches are filthy and they bring on diseases. And I just ate from a table that as it turns out, the oh-so-accommodating pit stop of a cockroach. Holy Mother of all that is Pure and True, if I could have open a can of whoop ass on someone right there and then, I totally would. The manager came to me with an attitude. She was all gangsta when she looked at me and asked "Yes?".......Bitch, you do not throw fuel to the fire. Bad move bitch, bad move.








"I just found a cockroach on the table here. Where I am eating. A cockroach! What kind of establishment are you running here when people come here to eat and you serve cockroaches along with the food?"





"Ohhh we just had pest control last Friday.............."








"It doesn’t matter whether or not you had pest control last Friday or yesterday or the month before this. That is a non-issue. What is an issue here is that while I am eating here I found a cockroach crawling around next to my plate. *Lipas tau tak? Lipas. Atas meja.* Do you expect me to sit here and eat your food still?"

*A cockroach you know? A cockroach. On the table.








"Oh we always have a cockroach problem. *But sekarang dah less dah.....*"
*But now it have lessen....*







"Oh is that supposed to make me feel better? Is the fact that last time you had more cockroaches attacking your customers and now you only have one is a victory? Am I supposed to rejoice at that? Seriously, what kind of show are you running here? *Ini kat depan dah ada lipas. Kalau I pergi to your kitchen, what will I find there? Perkampungan lipas dan tikus?* Is that the cleanliness level of your establishment? Eh when I come here I expect a certain level of professionalism and cleanliness. **Kalau I nak makan kat tempat kotor-kotor I pergi makan kat mamak tepi jalan tu. Kereta lalu-lalu, berhabuk sana sini tapi tak per.** Cause that's how much I pay for it. Here I come and I pay your service tax and all that and this is the bullshit I have to deal with?"

*If you have cockroaches at the front of your restaurant, then what do you have in your kitchen? A mini city for cockroaches and rats?*

**If I want to eat at a dirty place, I go to a mamak by the roadside. The food will be all dusty but it's okay because that is what expected of mamak and that is how much I pay for it.**

By this time she looked like she was on the verge of crying. I feel kinda bad but no matter how bad I felt it doesn’t change the fact there was a disease carrying cockroach near my food. Shit son, what if I have rabies now?








"What happens now if I get sick from eating your food? If my friend gets sick? Who is going to foot the bill for our medical fees? You? Your pest control people?"








She just kept quite. On hindsight, what else can she do? I wasn’t screaming but I spoke loudly. I made sure that the whole restaurant can hear the fact that there was a cockroach on my table. Near my fucking food. I am still so pissed off.








"So what are you going to do now?"








"Well what do you want?"








"I do not want to pay for any of these, I will not pay for my food and neither will my friend. When we came in we expected to eat pizza, not some cockroach infested tasty treat. Also do you have a business card? I want your business card if not you write out your name and give it to me. If you think you can serve people food in this kind of place where cockroaches live happily ever after then you are wrong. I am going to report about this. This is not over."








"Miss, building ni memang ada banyak lipas."
*Miss, this building is infested with cockroaches.*







"That's not an issue. *I pergi makan kat Subway like 3 doors away and takder pun lipas. I pergi minum kat Starbucks, takde pun lipas. I pergi makan kat Ali Maju, mamak tau mamak, takder pun I kena attack dengan lipas. So don't blame the building for your shortcomings. Ni tempat makan, bukan printers suratkhabar.*"
*I didn't find any cockroaches when I go to eat at Subway which is 3 doors down from here. I don't see any cockroaches when I have a drink in Starbucks. When I go to Ali Maju, which is a mamak establishment, I don't get attacked by cockroaches. So don't blame the building for your shortcomings. This is a restaurant, not a printers.*







I wanted to go on and on but Farid was staring at me from across the table looking on the verge of crapping his pants. (No dude, you did.) So I just stood up and left. I think if stayed longer I would have cut a bitch. Seriously. Fucker!!! What if I have rabies now? Do cockroaches carry rabies? Fuck. What do they carry? I should Google this up. What if Farid and I are infected with it? Whatever it is that they are carrying? What if the disease is spread by saliva? Like rabies? What if everyone we kiss and share a drink with is infected? And those people will infect other people and other people and other people...... In like a week or less there could be an outbreak of cockroach-something disease all over KL!! In a month- the world!








It'll be like the fucking Mad Cow disease all over again. But it'll be worst cause when this story hit the news, the news anchors are going to go "The original deadly disease carriers have been traced and that trail goes back to Malaysia. We have been notified that the original carriers were Farid.A and the Constantly Dramatic One, who ate at a cockroach infested Pizza Hut establishment. Sad to say however that these two individuals who were the original carriers of this deadly disease are already deceased."








WTF?!! I don’t want to be remembered as a plague-carrying-originator. This is not fair!! When I die, people should remember me as the object of Clive Owen's desire. They should remember me for my ass the size of galaxy. They should remember me for my superior bitching skillz. But most of all they should remember me for the ossumness that I am. Not as the cause of a plague bitches!








This is bullshit.








I will lodge a complaint at the Consumer Rights and Health Ministry or whatever. I need to find where exactly I can complain at. And when I do, I will cc. that to The Star, Utusan Melayu and all other newspapers. Take that you filthy Pizza Hut bastards! Take that. If I am going down as the original carrier of a plague-later-to-be-named then I am taking you down with me you filthy Pizza Hut bastards! I am not going down without a fight.








......Damn, I totally need to go to the family GP tomorrow. I need to check if I have rabies. Or whatever it is that will make me go down in medical books as the cause of a plague that wipe out a shitload of people.


Damn Pizza Hut bastards.

Excuse me, shouldn't you stop living in ignorance?

"Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "You guys did vote well. Thank you.":


Excuse me...shouldn't you be more concerned about the political affairs of your own country instead of having visions and premonitions about a foreign country's election?





Dearest Anon,

Regarding your comment, first of I want to say how sorry I am for you. Really I am. You made me really sad. A lot of things makes me sad of course..... for instances the fact that Clive Owen still married to his wife makes me sad. The fact that my sister lives so far away makes me sad. Three legged dogs makes me sad. My favourite hairdresser moving away therefore he can no longer do my hair on alternate weekends makes me sad. So you see a lot of things do makes me sad and sadly I have to say that you have entered the list of things/people/events/creatures that makes me sad.







The fact that you left such a comment shows how small and shallow your world is. Why can't I be concerned with the state of affairs of a foreign country? Is it not my prerogative as a citizen of this world to educate myself and to keep abreast with the ongoings of the world? Be it politically, economically, entertainment wise or whatsoever? Why can't I be excited for what I perceived the new dawn for America? For what in my idealistic, 20-something mind see as the beginning of the end of racism, the existence of a nation as one, the end of a a hideous world economy and also the end of a senseless war that have taken away the lives of so many? Sure, this is all happening in another country. Sure this is the ongoings of America. And I am Malaysian. I realise that. You realise that. The people who take time off their daily lives to read this blog realise that.







Yes, Anonymous, I know that I am not American. Thank you for pointing that out in not so many words.







I am concerned about the affairs of my country. Malaysia. Yes let me spell that out for you again. I am Malaysian. I am not American. If you are so inclined to point that out for me then I am so inclined to point that out for you too. Good manners you see, it's what we Asians (Malaysia is a country situated in South East Asia) are famous for. Yes, I do care about my own country's affairs. I am a registered voter and earlier this year I did my part as a citizen of Malaysia and voted. I voted and closely followed the elections updates with bated breath. I even stayed up all night just so I can hear what the local political pundits are discussing, to educate myself of the ongoings of my own country's political scene. In fact, I was so excited with the outcome that I did my first and only live blogging post. Here let me link you to the posts I have written regarding the political affairs of my country. (Scroll down to the bottom of the page and work your way up).. And if you see on the bottom left of this page of this blog titled "Not Dramatic but Political", yes those are the blogs that I read on a daily basis to know the ongoings of my own country. Malaysia.







So you see Anon dear, unlike you I chose to be concerned with the political ongoings of the world as well as my country (Malaysia, we don't want to forget that do we?). I chose to educate myself. I chose to not be ignorant but instead set my mind on a global scale. I keep abreast with the news and the political state of the rest of the world because what happens in a country as powerful as America, effects smaller countries such as Malaysia. Yes, Malaysia. My country. I haven't forgotten and I hope neither have you.








I have to admit that I have never been so into news or politics until I become a student of the Mass Communication lore. It gets tiring after a while to enter a Mass Comm class and to have your lecturer asking you what's happening in Vietnam/Georgia/China/America/Peru/insert-other-country's-name-here in front of a class of 120 and not know how to answer. It is embarrassing too. So to save myself from the embarrassment I started keeping updates with world affairs, reading 5 different sources of international news everyday. I even have a subscription of Newsweek delivered to my doorsteps as to know what's going on in the world. But after a while I stop reading because I "have to", but continue on because I want to. Because to know what's going in other parts of the world, and not just my country (Malaysia) can open up my mind. Makes me think critically. Makes me thankful to be in my own country (Malaysia) when I compare it to the state of other less fortunate Third World Countries. Also reading, knowing and being concerned with the political affairs of America makes me feel close to my brother. He works and lives in Chicago. Reading up things concerning Chicago, strangely, makes me feel close to him. I also keep updated with the political ongoings of Finland where my sister lives. Are you going to condemn me for that too?







So here we are again, back to your shallow existence. Listen, I really am sorry for you. I'm sorry that you cannot look pass from whatever veil of ignorance and shallowness that your have readily put on and wholeheartedly embrace. I'm sorry that you life revolves only around where ever you are from, and only of people you associated yourself with. I'm sorry that in this era of globalization, people like you, ignorant and shallow still exists. I'm sorry for you and the rest of mankind.





I do not know where you are from or who you are. I rather make no assumptions. You could be a fellow Malaysian. You could be a McCain supporter. You could be just a passerby that feels the need to leave a comment. I do not know but I do care. Because it's people like you, that cannot look pass your ignorance, who happily live in your shallow existence who time and time again as history has proved to be the hindrance to a better tomorrow. I'm sure at this point you want me to give examples of what I am talking about but I rather not. Why don't you look that up yourself? Do a little reading. Might do a world of wonders to your perceptions and life.



Anon, before I end this I want to apologize to you. I am sorry that I have ruin your image of Malaysians. I am sorry that I do not blog on how bad my day was "working the paddy fields or about my brand new batik design". I am sorry that I ruin your stereotyping of Asian women who should at all times be docile and obliging. I am sorry that I do not post up pictures of my friends and I partying, "getting drunk" or blog about how devastated I am that I do not managed to get a pair of stilettos in my size or be concerned with things that society thinks women in their early 20's should be concerned with. I'm sorry that I do not conform to your ideals of what an Asian, Malaysian, 20-something woman should be concerned with or should blog about. I'm sorry that instead I choose to blog about some things that matter. Some political affairs of another country that I am not part of. I am sorry that I chose to think globally when you, clearly, do not.



However Anon, I am interested in where this could go. Why don't you leave a comment in the comment box on what you think of me, as a Malaysian should think or react to the political ongoings of a foreign country. Understand that this is not an invitation for an argument but instead of a debate. You state your reasons on why you choose to live such a shallow existence and why you think that I should follow in your footsteps. I in turn will tell you of my reasons not to. Whatever your points are I am confident that I can refute them because you see.....unlike you, my mind operates on a global scale.

hugs, kisses and all that jazz,

the Constantly Dramatic One

You guys did vote well. Thank you.

Obama won!!!! YES! YES! YES!!!!!!!!!!

Fuck yeah! Now bring the change that we need. Get the troops out. End this senseless war. Bring up the economy.

I knew waking up at 6am, sitting in front of the TV watching CNN with my laptop next to me, cutting my 10am class is soooo worth it. Fuck man, I even set my homepage to CNN Elections Update. Hardcore. My only regret is that I wasn't able to vote too.

Also, I am not talking to my brother for a month. That ass in currently in Grant Park, Chicago. That's where Obama's camp is. That ass. I disown him. I am not talking to him for a month.


Hey McCain's defeat speech sounds gracious didn't it? Wasn't delivered with sincerity though. That's what I think anyways. Also is it evil of me to find it incredibly fun to look at Palin's defeated disappointed face? Cause it was fun to look at her defeated. That woman would have been a plague onto the entire world if she did ended up in the White House. Thank God she didn't. And now, I'm waiting for Obama's victory speech.


The world can breathe easy now. It's time for a new tomorrow.

I'm still not talking to my bro though. Ass.

Vote well bitches, vote well....

Last night I had a dream that Obama won the election. Like I saw him on the stage giving a speech of his victory. I was looking up at him...meaning I was down in the crowd looking up at him. I felt ecstatic. I felt like everything's gonna be all right now. Obama's in the house yo.





I woke up feeling delirious. And then it occurred to me that it was just a dream. It's Nov 4th here in Malaysia but not yet there. Then I got really scared. What if McCain wins? What if that bimbo Palin ended up being President after McCain croaks? The whole fucking world is screwed. You bitches better vote well.



And this dream better be a premonition of what's to come. Because another 4 years of bullshit economy and stupid policies is just too much to take.





Obama/Biden '08 yo.

The Constantly Dramatic One's Shit List: Part 2

Today on the second installment of "The Constantly Dramatic One's Shit List", I would like to bitch about......pronunciations. Yes, that's right. Pronunciations. But before that a little introduction first.

This is the section on Dramatic Musings in which I just wanna bitch in, okay? Just let me be. Most people think I have unresolved anger issues. Most people think that my unresolved issues exhibits itself especially when I'm behind the steering wheel. Most people think I should deal with whatever it is that's making me angry. To most people, this is what I say:

Now I'm no grammar Nazi like some people, nor am I a language elitist but there are some shit that need to be pronounced properly. Such as names. My name is the Constantly Dramatic One. I expect you to pronounce it as the Con-stant-ly Dra-ma-tic One. Okay? Such as you expect other people to pronounce your name pro-per-ly.

I notice lately and by lately I mean on TV that some TV personalities like to pronounce Malaysia as "Maleeeeziaaaaahh". Bitch, wtf? Listen, I understand that you think that you are cool, that you are in fact on TV after all and I'm not. Okay, fine, whatever. But really the fact that you are so inherently Malay and so inherently Malaysian and I know bitch, I know you grew up in Sungai Petani, Kedah* gives you no fucking excuse whatsoever to mispronounce the name of our motherland.

It's Ma-lay-sia you little skank whore. Not Ma-leeeee-zi-aaaaahhh. What the fuck is Maleeeeezzziaaaahhh anyways? Sounds like a fucking venereal disease. Do you have it bitch? That's why you find the need to educate the public about it? I'm sorry that you have "Maleeeezzzziaaaahhh" on your vagina now, but that's not my fault nor it is the country's. It is yours.

By affecting yourself with what clearly is a damn stupid accent does not up your cool factor. It makes you look like an affected, wannabe, venereal-disease-having-skank-whore. Just let it be. If you weren't born in the UK, why the hell do you find the need to speak like you are? You are not Bristish, you are from Sungai Petani. Embrace your roots. Be proud of it. Don't try to cover it with your idiotic, affected accent.

So the next time you feel the need to speak out loud the name of our motherland, please acknowledge its pronunciation and adhere by it. If your name is Dipship, you wouldn't want people to call you Asswipe now do you?

It's only common courtesy.

*******************************
Footnotes.

1) The use of "Sungai Petani, Kedah" is just to drive home a point. She is not from Sungai Petani. I do not know where she if from but I'm sure it is not from the UK. However, I am just trying to make a point here.

2) For part one of "the Constantly Dramatic One's Shit List" go here.

3) To give me a piece of your mind, please key in GO-FUCK-YOURSELF on your mobile phone.

That would be all. Thank you for your attention.