Creepy assholes need not apply

I am freaking out here people.

I know I have been gone for a looong time and well, life happens. To get y'all up to date: I have now gone on an epic quest to become a bonafide runner. I have done three 5ks so far, signed up for my first 10k next month and if all goes to plan, I will be running my first half-marathon (21.5km) in July during the Gold Coast Airport Marathon. And for all that, I have been hitting the gym quite hard actually. Like.....90 minutes sessions 6 days a week. And that's just cardio, we're not talking about strength training yet. I abhor strength training by the way, but it has to be done. It would help me with the half marathon and the full marathon at the end of the year.

Which brings us to our actual story here.

The gym that I go to is my apartment gym. It is not one of those fancy schmancy Fitness First-type gyms. It is just equipments, open 24 hours a day for residents, comes with the rent and well, situated in a glass bubble in the middle of the complex, overlooking the pool. I feel like a fish every time I workout cause of the glass walls.

Our story begins last Friday while I was hitting the treadmill hard. I try to walk/run (cause I am not such a good runner yet) at least 7km a day...sometimes 10km a day when I feel like it. I run outside sometimes too but it is autumn now and it has been raining a lot here in Brisbane...I really could not be bothered. So I was on the treadmill in my aquarium gym, it was completely empty but for myself when this guy came in. He smiled. I nodded. Then he started saying something and I was like “What now?” I honestly do not know what he was talking about cause I was trying not to die here. Running for me is that fine line between pleasure and eternal death. Gotta concentrate so that I don't keel over and die whenever I run. Obviously, this fucker did not realise that.

Dude went on and on and I honestly do not know what the fuck he was saying. I was like “Um asshole, can you not see I am trying to workout here? WTF?” But obviously I didn't say it, I was more like “Uh huh” to whatever he was saying. I did get bits and pieces of it, mostly along the lines:

“Oh I see you in the gym before.

“Uh huh.

“You come here quite often.

“Uh huh.

“You really workout huh?

“Uh huh.

“So I see you tomorrow here round this time?

“Uh huh...wait what?

“I see you tomorrow.

“Uumm...uh huh.”

And then he left, which I was thankful for. I finished my workout and then it occurred to me that dude was trying to chat me up. And that was just ridiculous cause when I go to the gym, I always, consistently look like shit. We're talking old shirt, faded pants, sweating buckets, flushed cheeks and just gross all around. And who the fuck chat up girls on the goddamn treadmill anyway? And I was like okay, that was weird and that was that.

The next day I went to the gym round the same time and he wasn't there which I was thankful for. Finished my workout and as I was leaving the gym, he came running out of his house waving at me. Turns out he lives in the house right NEXT TO THE GYM. Which kinda make sense at that point. And he was like

“Oh I thought I come see you after you're done...

“Okay.

“So what are you doing tomorrow?

“Uhh.....”

“I'm just gonna walk you home okay?

“Umm...this is where I live.”

Like, the gym is probably a minute walk away from house. So we kinda stood awkwardly in front of my place. The thing is... I have noticed him before round my area cause he's kinda hot. But in a threatening kinda way. There are 2 types of hot: The first being men who are just hot cause they are good looking (ie: Orlando Bloom) and the other type is that they're kinda have a dangerous vibe to them (ie: Clive Owen), kinda like a bad boy. This guy is of the second type. He's about 5'11, slim, muscular, really nice arms.....but its kinda messed up cause one arm is pretty much all covered up with tattoos. And y'all know how I feel about tattoos. He's hot when I seen him around from afar, but now that he was standing in front of me, with his tattoos and shit....it is intimidating. And threatening.

“So I'm going in now...really nice meeting you again *Tyler.”

He just stood there like I was supposed to invite in. WTF? I just met you. Again, awkward. Then he said

“Okay I'm just gonna talk with my boys and I'll be back okay?”

After that he just left, he didn't really give me an option. I was like “Did that just happened? Did that guy just invited himself to my place?” And of course, I freaked out. I texted like 3 of my friends

“HOLY SHIT! SOME GUY FOLLOWED ME HOME FROM THE GYM! HOLY FUCK! CALL ME WHEN YOU GET THIS!! I MIGHT BE DEAD ALREADY!”

Set the police hotline to my number 1 speed dial and literally just barricaded myself inside my bedroom for the next half an hour...and he didn't show up. So I thought it would be safe to go out to the kitchen cause I was really hungry at that point. Just as I was starting to cook, he knocked on the front door and the shitty thing is that my kitchen is right next to the front door. I can't actually hide now can I? So he stood there looking expectantly at me and I felt cornered....I invited him in. I should not have done so but I felt cornered. I was also, well frightened to a certain degree cause I didn't know how he would have reacted. So he came in and it was really tense, well for me. He seemed really relax and I was on the edge of my seat especially cause the house was empty but for the two of us. Both my house-mates were out. One went home to her parents' place, the other is spending the night at her boyfriend's so, yes, I was edgy. Thankfully my phone kept on beeping and ringing cause of the message I mass texted to my friends so I was like “Look! You cannot kill me now cause people know you are here!!!”

At one point he even said “You look so tense, I have a bottle of wine at home. Would you like me to bring it here?”

ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME?!!

He could have just said “Oh yeah, I totally wanna get you drunk so I could rape you when you're out cold.” Would have cut out all the bullshit right?

I finally managed to fake a very important phone call from Malaysia and told him to go home. Before that he was still like;

“Right, so what are you doing tomorrow?

“Movie with a friend. He wants to watch that new war movie.

“Oh what time is that?

“I dunno yet.

“What about at night?

“Going out with my girls.

“What about Sunday?

“Uumm.......church.”

He stared at me while I try to keep a straight face. Church, my ass. I'm not even Christian dude. Then I said

“Look, we live here. I'm sure we would bump into each other someday. I really need to take this call now.”

And he left. It was strange...and I am creeped out by it. On Saturday, I did went out with the girls and then on Sunday round 6pm he came knocking again. The shitty thing was that I was sitting in the living room watching some creepy-ass movie so when the knock came, it scared the shit out of me. And again, I was alone. No house-mates. I answered the door and he was like

“Hey what are you doing?

“Watching a movie.

“Should I watch it with you?”

Seriously, that's what he said. How pushy can an asshole be? And I said

“Um no, I'm planning to get some work done after this. So no.”

He looked surprised so I went on.

“So I'll see you okay?”

And closed the door. And that was that. I wonder if he got the message.

I'm kinda creeped out still. What if he comes around again tomorrow? I mean, he knows where I fucking live people. My house-mates are back but still....And this probably means that I can't go to the gym anymore cause then he would know when I'm home, right? This is bullshit!! All I want is to do is workout in peace. Is that too much to ask for? For fuck's sake man!

Plus, I dunno what he wants but he's coming on too strong. Coming around whenever it suits him. WTF. I don't even know you. It's creepy! Like he could at least ask for my number so that he can call before he wanna come around. Not that I would give him my number, but it won't matter cause he KNOWS WHERE I LIVE. It's scary. I'm creeped out. It's okay if he's not coming on too strong but he is. Plus, he's in a no-win zone anyway with those tattoos.

Looks like I have to start running outside tomorrow and the weather forecast says it would rain.

This is bullshit.

Paranoia...or justified?

I finally have the time to blog now seeing that my sis and bro-in-law (hereby will be known as BIL cause I’m too damn lazy to type the thing all the time okay. Let me be.) are already asleep. I am doing this all on her laptop cause I left mine at home.


Not that I wanted to but because my sis practically yelled down the phone telling me not to bring mine. Her reason being is that when I come back to Malaysia, I will be bringing a lot of stuff so what’s the point of lugging around the laptop. Just additional burden. I could of course yelled back at her saying that I will bring it cause my laptop is my lifeline, an extension of my being, the very reason of my sanity and where I store half naked pictures of firemen I’ve accumulated over the years…but I didn’t. Cause as much as I love my sister and I do; the woman is fucking fierce okay. I get shit scared when she’s angry with me. I still have memories of her yelling at me when I broke her hairclip when I was 7 and she was 12 and that still send shivers down my spine.


I still have an uncontrollable urge to scream out “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!! I didn’t mean to sit on your hairclip with my giant (yet sexy) ass! I’ll buy you a new one!!” whenever we get into an argument. Actually I did that once a couple years ago and she stopped yelling at me, stared and then just walked away mumbling something about weirdos, sister and “just my luck.”


But….I digress.


This post is not about Finland yet. It’s about my journey coming here.


Before I left Malaysia for here, my parents reminded me again and again and again not to leave my bag alone unattended at the airport, not to speak to people, just sit quietly and mind my own business. Not that I am a 9 year old kid that needs reminding but because well they are parents and these days you are always reading about how Malaysian women ended up being drug mules for something or other. I am in fact a single, young woman traveling on my own- prime candidate for a whooole lot of fuckery.


My parents were telling me the same exact thing in the car on the way to the airport. When we were parking the car at the airport carpark. While I was checking in my luggage at the airport. While I was searching for a place to sit at the airport. When I was sipping my hot chocolate at the airport’s café.


Same damn thing. Don’t leave your bags alone. Don’t talk to strangers. Do not become a drug mule and end up in a Turkish prison. Basically the same thing every parent tells their children when they are traveling alone ya know.


So I got on the plane and ended up sitting in an isle sit. There were 2 empty seats between me and some middle aged dude. For a while there it seems like the 2 seats were going to stay empty when at the last minute this dude came in. Blond hair, blue eyes, about 6 feet tall, beer gut hanging out, tattoos all over his arm and uummm…….braided beard. No I’m serious. His beard…..was braided. It was one long…thing hanging off his chin and I knew he was going to be trouble before he parked his ass right beside me. It wasn’t comfortable, I can assure you that. About 5 mins before take off he asked the airhostess for vodka. I thought he was a nervous flyer, probably needs a small amount of liquid courage. So yeah we all have issues. But apparently his issue became my issue when he downed the vodka with 2 white pills. Dude, you don’t mix liquor and medications. Look at what happened to Heath Ledger. Let’s all take something out of that little episode shall we?


About 10 mins into the flight, he started mumbling incoherently. Then he fidgeted about. The hell, these are coach seats and fucker you’re 6 feet tall. Stop fidgeting. After that he begun leaning on me, by this time I believe that he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. Liquor, pills and being that high in the air can do shit to you so I managed to squeeze out of the seat and asked an air hostess to relocate me. I honestly believe that he wasn’t a bad dude…just you know he enjoys taking pills with Vodka.


All to his own.


I did not encounter another pill popper at my next seat but there was this old lady and all through the flight she tried to make conversation with me. At first I pretended not to speak English but that was stupid cause I ended up taking out an English novel to read so then I had to speak to her. She was about 75, Irish by her accent and claimed to be a nun. She wore this huge cross at her neck and told me about her missionary work. I listened to her with feigned interest but really you know….I really do not care. All I wanna do is sleep or check out the steward with the tight ass. He wasn’t hot per’se but tight ass yo…tight ass. Priorities people, priorities.


I dunno if it was the exhaustion of sitting on my ass for 9 hours or my parent’s inflicted paranoia or the fact that I’m obsess with CSI, but it occurred to me that the lady was mentioning the fact that she is nun in every other sentence.


“Me, being a nun told him…..
“Because I’m a nun….
“We nuns know better…..


Like yes, I get that you are a nun. You don’t have to tell me 3 thousand time. God. Yours and mine…but yeah. It was like she was selling it too hard. So I just kept quite. She kept on asking me about me as well. “Was I flying alone? Is anyone meeting me there? Is this my first time traveling alone?” Kinda…weird. Or maybe not but I’ve decided its no big cause I wont be seeing her after the plane landed anyways. After the plane landed in Amsterdam she asked me if I have a transit and that if I would like to have coffee with her, I told her no cause I much rather not waste time and get to the next plane immediately. I thought that was the end of that.


I was browsing through some of the duty free stuff in Schipol when I bumped into her again and again, she asked me for coffee. Clearly I wasn’t rushing anywhere and I can’t refuse her. That would be plain rude so I said yes. I wasn’t happy bout it but there was nothing else I could do.



So we were having coffee and again she was telling me about her missionary work. I didn’t ask really. I mean, maybe she’s proud of what she does. Maybe she was trying to convert me. Maybe I am the perpetual drama queen creating drama in my head when there is none. Whatever it is, I was on edge with her. I felt that we did not “bumped” into each other; she singled me out. This is of course pure speculation.


So we had coffee and then I offered to clear the table and put away the try. I was just in the process of picking my bag from the floor and putting it over my shoulder when she tugged at it. She had her hand on my bag, tugging it towards her and she said


“Why don’t you leave your bag here while you put away the tray?’


What the fuck? Bitch, I am not gonna leave my bag to virtually a stranger whom I just met not even 10 hours ago, okay. And the hell, who the hell are you? I don’t even know you. The hell should I leave my bag with you. Maybe it was a combination of paranoia and exhaustion but alarm bells went off in my head. So I tugged my bag towards me, smiled politely and told her no thanks and this was the weird part….and maybe a bit creepy. She tugged it again. She was like “Oh no, I insist.”


The hell motherfucker?


I tugged again, stronger this time and told her no. Then I put away the tray and told her that I need to use the bathroom. In truth I was ditching her. I mean the fuck. That was creepy okay. You don’t go tugging people’s bag for no reason. I did however went to the bathroom and literally cleared out the entire contents of my bag on the floor of the stall. I went through one by one, I figured if I found anything suspicious and wasn’t mind to begin with; I would have flush it down the toilet. But there was nothing.


I did not went back to the café. I went straight to my Gate, sat through my 3 hours transit and made no eye contact with anyone. Too tired to deal with another fuckery.


Could have been paranoia but really….what’s the deal with the bag tugging bit? What do you guys think?

Stop stealin' my name, bitch!

Dude, this is pissing me off.

So apparently my handle "Constant Drama" is not as original as I thought. If you type that in the search box, the first thing that comes out isn't Dramatic Musings my friend. Its this lame ass hip hop album called, you know it folks: Constant Drama.

Right. Awesome. There is an a compilation of hip hop beats all fitted into an album called Constant Drama. And people, it sucks donkey balls. It sucks so much I wanna cut myself while listening to the sample tracks coz it is that bad. And they're all by these hip hop artists that I have never heard of.

Who in the fucking blue hell is Mac Mall? What kind of a dumbass called himself Mac Mall? There's another dude that called himself Mac Dre......riiiiighhhht. Are you Dr.Dre's long lost retarded little cousin? And what the hell is "Mac"? Is it some street slang for "dumbass" that I do not know of? And oh, oh get this!! There's a hip hop group that also contributes to this piece of shit. They call themselves.......wait for it: the group No Name Yet.

I cannot make shit like this up.

Now lets assume there were three clowns in this impressive hip hop ensemble. Imagine the conversation that they might have had upon creating their out of the world, insanely cool group name.

Clown #1: Now that we have a group yo, we should totally name it, yo.

Clown #2: Yo, I'm down with that. Yo.

Clown #3: But what? What about ass clowns? Yo, I be down with that.

Clown #1: Ass Clowns is not ghetto yo. Something more bangin. What bout "Mo' pussy for the bangin". Picture it dogg, when they call us out on the stage they go all like "And here to perform their first track of their album "We are ass clowns" is "More pussy for the bangin!!!". Ain't that of the hook? Yo yo. Dogg.

Clown #2: Hell no!! I ain't down with that! What about "Doggs of the Hood". Coz we doggs and we're from the hood. See what I'm sayin......Yo.

At this point the White Manager walked in...

White Manager: Boys, come up with a name yet?

Clown #3: The group? Ain't no name yet.

Clown #1: Hold up, hold up, what cha' sayin?

Clown #3: Imma sayin, us group ain't no name yet.

Clown #1: That's it!! The group No Name Yet. That's our name!!! Ain't that the shhhiiit!! Hollerrr!!!

Clown #2: That's off the hook!!!!!! The group No Name yet! You got mad skillz dogg.

Clown #3: Word.
...........................................................................................................................

White Manager: Whatever you boys are on, I want some of that.

I mean honestly. I listen to hip hop. I do not discriminate against them. I know Dr. Dre is good. Eminem. Tupac. Hell, Chris Brown is good but this shit its crap. I am so pissed that my handle will forever be associated with a lame ass hip hop album. Seriously. Anyone of you have heard of them so called....."Macs"? I'm willing to bet on my right buttcheeck that none of you have. But worst of all, what pisses me off the most is the cover of the album.

Fug doesn't even begin to explain the cover art. "Oooouuu lets have a background that looks like flames or the close up of a praying mantis's head- depends on how you look at it and bigass font. That shit's gangsta." Suuuureeee.....

I am so traumatized by this. I'm thinking of dropping my handle "Constant Drama" and go with "The Constantly Dramatic One" all the way. At least that's all mine and I no longer have to be associated with this ridiculously lousy hip hop album with the fugly cover art.

Thoughts?

Penis envy?

The Constantly Dramatic One would now take you away from the election fever to bring you this video that I found on youTube. Don't ask how I found it. I just did okay.

It's this commercial spot for a device that let women pee standing up. That's right. A device for women to pee standing up.

I dunno bout you ladies out there but uuuhhhh, this shit is kinda weird. Like really weird. And its a card box....what the hell? I laughed so hard the first time I watched it, I almost peed.......And I bet you whoever that came up with this is a man. Or a woman with crazy penis envy. I dunno, what do you think?

And yes, I just wrote a post about a device that let women pee standing up. Just like Malaysia, Dramatic Musings is also exploring new territories.

I'm sorry. Is this an audition for 'Showgirls' that I do not know of?

Nipple Slut has got nothing on you. Seriously.

Bitch, what the hell was that? Its a public speaking presentation. Not a fucking stripping audition for Showgirls. See, I checked the course outline that it says this week we are all supposed to go in front of the class and give a presentation. There was never a mention of stripping in the course outline.Right, ..........stripping. In class.

What in the blue fucking hell is up with that?

I remember you mentioned once to me that you dress like this, so that one day when you get married only your husband would get to truly appreciate the glory that is your body. Maybe in the middle of sex he will just start singing 'Your Body is A Wonderland' because you kept it hidden for so long and he is the only one that could ever, in your entire lifetime gets to appreciate it. Kudos. I give you one point for dedication and another for being a hopeless romantic. I wish I am but I'm waaay too cynical about that. Plus I also secretly pity my future husband seeing that a whole lot of people have seen my boobies. I like to wear lowcut tops okay?

So anyways moving on..... was it really necessary for you to strip down from that to this:

(Albeit, the model look waaaay hotter than you and less vulgar.)

in front of the whole fucking class? You are talking about male/female interactions, what the hell was up with the stripping? You want to grab attention. You did bitch. But guess what, no one was listening to a word you were saying. I thought Nipple Slut was bad, you huney is the Queen of Hypocrisy. At least Nipple Slut never hides the fact or talk about undressing only for her husband. She is skanky and she never hides that. At least she is honest and that is something you are clearly confused about.


You huney, has lost it all today. You might think that you were being radical and sexy, I have news for you. There is a thin line between sexy and plain out trailer trash skanky. You have crossed that line and you are so far out that the line is a dot to you. I might go around in my miniskirts and sometimes my bra strap pokes through my top but I never stripped in front of the entire class or walk around in religious robes proclaiming that only my yet non-existing husband can look at my body.


Hypocrisy is ugly and come to think of of it, so are you.

Pornography? Here?

Apparently some dumbass from Ireland stumbled upon my blog. Apparently that dumbass also thought that Malaysia is a Middle Eastern country. Apparently this dumbass has added my page on Stumble Upon under the Pornography category.


Like WTF?


First off if you wanna categorize this blog, it should go into Bitchy Rantings, not pornography. Dramatic Musings is not a sex blog. I would like it to be but unfortunately for you and even more so for me, the Constantly Dramatic One is sexually deprived. It comes with being single. And Muslim.

Pornography? What the fuck is up with that?

Second of, Malaysia is not a Middle Eastern country you stupid piece of shit. Just because our main religion is Islam does not make us a Middle Eastern country. It's a South East Asian country. We are talking whole different continents here. I'm sure that in you backass country they actually teach Geography. Or maybe they don't. Seeing that all you Irish ever do is get shitfaced and get your collective fugly asses kick in bar brawls.

See generalization. I am generalizing that all Irish are a bunch of useless drunks that gets into fights all the time because they are a bunch of uncivilized alcoholics.Just like the way you generalizes that we are a Middle Eastern country. And all of you lot, including your women look like this:

Generalizations is an annoying bitch ain't it?

You Irish dumb fuck.

You made a what now?

So today I was in college right.... I mean that's what I do, the Constantly Dramatic One is a college student. I was dressed like a college student, I was carrying college books, I was thinking of my assignments when I received a text message from a friend saying that they all hanging out at the study area. Basically the study area is the 4th level of the building where students go to chill in between classes. Plus it's fully air-conditioned and has wireless. Good times.

When I got this message I was at level 1 meaning I have to climb the damn stairs to get to level 4. Usually I opt for an illegal ride on the emergency elevator but today, today I was channeling 80es Jane Fonda and I wanna feel the muscle burn. Yes, I will. I will feel it burn as I drag my giant ass all the way from the 1st floor to the 4th floor. Feel it CD, feeeeeel it buuuurrrrn.

By the time I got to third floor I was basically huffing and puffing and there were too many goddamn stairs. I was cursing it under my breath when I heard a thud and there was a cry from some chick. Apparently some chick has fallen on her ass. Yeah, okay. Funny shit but it happens. I bet her ass is hurting but I was too preoccupied with the pain in my kidney when I heard what she said next:

"Ouch! I made a boo boo!"..............................................................................................................................................................................

....................................................................................................

What in the fucking blue hell bitch?!!! You made a boo boo? I almost trip up the stairs listening to your impressive vocab! I almost made my own boo boo. Are you seriously fucking with me? Excuse me? You made a boo boo? What the fuck?!!

Okay let's recap. Bimbo landed on her ass. Bimbo hurt her ass. And then she proclaimed to her friends that she made a boo boo?...............................Excuse me? I am in college aren't I? Where there is actually a grade point average to be qualified to enroll? And you said you made a boo boo? Whhhhaaaaaaaaat?!!! Seriously listening to those words coming out of your mouth has lower my IQ by 78%. I am amazed that I could even type this shit out right now.

I look at you and I'm thinking you're what? 19? 20? That means you are old enough to have your reproductive organs to be working. That means you are old enough to actually expend your vocab while you were living your life in the past 18 or 19 years or so. I mean, this is just guessing work but I'm gonna make an educated guess that in the past 18 or 19 years or so that you would have pick up something to read. Like a cereal box.

Seriously. What kind of piece of shit remark is that? "I made a boo boo." I understand that you might be embarrassed seeing that you landed on your ass in front of people. I understand that you feel the need to cover that embarrassment. Unfortunately your need to cover your embarrassment is that for you to act cute. And for you to act cute is for you to use babyish words like that. Sweetie, I got news for you. Once you hit the 10 year old mark, using the phrase "I made a boo boo" is no longer cute. It just makes you seem retarded. While we're on the topic, did you Father drop you on your head when you were a baby coz that would explain things.

And also it wont pissed me off to the core knowing that the girls that I share my tertiary education with are a bunch of weaklings that like playing it dumb to get guys attention. So you fell down, it’s embarrassing. I get it. Pick yourself back up, says it hurts and then hold your head up high. Don't be a fucking retard by using dumbass words like that.

Today I am embarrassed to be a woman. You know why? Because of you. Because of your need to act helpless and cute when shit like this happen. Feminism is set back by decades by bimbos like you who likes to play dumb. And while we're at it, lemme guess your role model is Jessica Simpson right?

"Sweet Escape" my Ass.

So I think you have heard that Gwen Stefani is coming to Malaysia. Her first ever concert in Malaysia for her Sweet Escape Tour. Solo or otherwise...ok not so sure about that but if she has never perform here before then I can actually show the importance of her being here. For the first time. To perform. Ever. See, see the importance of it?!!! Can you see it?!!

Now seeing that I like her music and that I own her first album( original, not downloaded), 2 of her No Doubt album (again: original, not downloaded- quite a feat these days) and watch and generally enjoy her TV specials, its safe to say that yes, I am a fan. Not a big fan but yes, still a fan. So when I heard that she's coming to Malaysia on August 21st, of course I am excited. Of course I wanna go. Of course I wanna see the lovely Gwen in action live with her Harajuku girls.

And then I check the tickets website, and my, my what a surprise. Tickets range from RM385 to RM125 and RM125 being the cheapest and all the waaaaaay back there. Buy the "cheapest" ticket and you can see Gwen as a dot, running around on what you assume is a stage coz you are sitting at the cheap seats and it is that faaaaar away. Check out the sitting:

Green. That's the cheapest one. I mean, WTF?!!! I'm not made of money. The tickets are not this expensive when MUSE came over. Or the Black Eyed Peas or Simple Plan, why in the blue hell are the tickets so expensive for Gwen? Did she won a Grammy I do not know about? Is 50% of the profit goin into African Orphan charity I -again- do not know about? Which is just stupid, coz ya'll know that Angelina Jolie gonna adopt all the African orphans in the world so why start a charity? Just give homegirl some time and she adopt them all. So again back to the question- why in hell is the tickets so damn expensive?!

This is royally pissing me off. Its a couple of years more till I become a filthy rich film producer, at which point I can hire Gwen to perform privately for me. Coz I am just that rich- at that point of course- but until that happens I'm just gonna be pissed off with the ticketing.

Really pissed off. Like barbie-dolls-melting-voodoo kinda pissed off.

"Erotic massage is NOT a crime."

Now that I got your attention...

I am sooo amused by this new revelation and its colourful, lovely quotes (click on the title).

Observed:

"Urut batin is a form of traditional Malay massage that helps the body circulate more blood to the penis while increasing the strength of erections to improve sexual stamina.
However, the ‘shake’ is offered to please the customers during the urut batin session."

"MASTURBATION is not prostitution and it is not mentioned in the Penal Code, said Ampang Jaya police chief Assistant Commissioner Amer Awal."

Do you know its Visit Malaysia year this year? Uh huh, I think we should include that in our brochure. Something along the lines of...

"In Malaysia, prostitution is WRONG WRONG WRONG!!! ...hand jobs on the other hand are just spiffy. These are some of the great places that we recommend for you to get the best... 'shake' experience ever..."

Don't you think it'll be a great boost to the country's tourist industry if they just include that in?

Like WTF?

Today I am going to start a new...section in my blog. One might say. Its when I blog about ridiculous shit that I have heard in the news. And each of these stories will all have the same title: Like WTF?

Yes, my vocab is amazing.

I know.

Now the first story I will talk about is the news regarding hair thieves in Myanmar. Uh huh. Hair thieves. Its not enough that the world have to cope with money-thieves, identity-thieves, car-thieves, corpse-thieves (yeah there are such things), people thieves (otherwise known as kidnappers but I'm following the '-thieves' thread so bear with me), now we have hair thieves.

Apparently long haired women in Myanmar now have to watch out because there's a bunch of bastards going around and cutting their hair. According to the article published in www.cnn.com , these hair cost $300 to $400 when it weighs 3.2pounds (that's 1.6kg). They attacked these women when they are shopping, when they're in the train, anywhere really where they have access to these long haired women. Victims reported that they didn't even realise that their hair have been cut until much later which bring me to the conclusion that the people who are doing this isn't just a bunch of bastards, but a bunch of sly bastards.

You know its sad enough that these days when you go out you gotta be really careful. Always paranoid that you gonna encounter a snatch thief around the corner. Or the guy who's staring at you in the train is a pervert and the fact that he's staring at you with a stupid grin on his face while his hand is conveniently hidden under the newspaper, on his lap, is Not good. If you don't get what I'm saying then stop reading. Clearly you are at the wrong blog. Then of course the stories that you hear about women being pushed inside their own cars and then drove to some God-forsaken place and gang raped. Now this...Bladi hair thieves.

Its just sooo sad what the world is coming to. Even hair is stolen from you. Its pissing me off. But it saddens me more. The world have gone mad. Its no longer safe. The days of rainbows and butterflies and flower power where everyone love each other have come and gone. Or perhaps that just existed in the Hippies deluded reality. They were high on weed back in the 60ties so you might never know...

All I know is that I'm growing my hair now and if anyone try to steal it, I will pepper-spray them. Not in their eyes. On their balls.

Coz its sure as hell burn there as well.