Clean, my ass

Well hello there, here we are back again at yet another instalment on Dramatic Musings in which I bitch about Mr. Clean. Otherwise known as the Australian-fucktard-I-live-with. Well then, settle in, get comfortable and enjoy the post.

 

See, I dunno whether I mentioned this before or not but when I moved in here I was told by the Australian-fucktard-I-live-with that there are a set of rules in which I am supposed to abide by when living in this house. The rules are as followed:

 

1)     No guests stay over more then 2 nights in a row. In fact he would prefer it if I bring no on home at all.

 

See I am totally cool with this rule. To tell you the truth I kinda like it cause it gives me the privacy that I crave and it would stop people from always wanting to crash at my place. Also, I have never mentioned this before but the bedrooms doors in this house have no locks. Only the front door, the backdoor and the bathroom have locks on the door. See this is a house based on the “Concept of Trust” or some fuckery right that. The rule is thart when you leave the house, you don’t close your bedroom’s door. You leave it wide open. When you’re home, you close it. It works as a signal too. And the system works to certain extend cause I have lived here for 2 months now and none of my stuff have gone missing. So yeah, okies.

 

2)     No dishes stay out all night long.

 

It’s more of a hygiene issue. You wash the dishes as soon as you used them, leave it out to dry and then keep them at night. So no dishes stay out at night. Sometimes once a while I don’t keep mine or the other 2 do the same and it’s cool. As long as you keep it the next morning but the ultimate thing is that no dirty dishes in the sink.

 

3)     “Don’t come home late at night, if you need to come home at 3am you might as welll don’t come home at all.”

 

He said that to me. I told him seeing that I am paying the rent which technically makes this house my house as well, I come home anytime I want. I’ll keep the noise to a minimum.

 

4)     Don’t turn on the music or TV too loud.

 

Understandable.

 

5)     No showers above 15 mins or we have to pay extra.

 

I take one hour showers everyday, I told him I’ll pay the extra. Stupid fuck. I blame my parents for making me stay here.

 

6)     People have to do chores according to the duty roster.

 

Okay so the house has a duty roster. Dissapeara and I share one bathroom, and le Fucktard has the master bedroom. So let me break it down to you.

Dissapeara and I take turns washing the bathroom and vacuuming the top floors cause its carpeted on alternate weekends. This has changed now seeing that she hates vacuuming and I hate washing the bathroom. So now she does the bathroom every weekend and I vacuums.

 

The downstairs floors is not carpeted. So on alternate week, either on Weds or Thurs, Dissapeara and I take turns moping and le Fucktard does it over the weekend. Cause over here we wear shoes inside the house and the floor get dirty real fast. So the floors get done twice a week. Supposably.

 

The kitchen, well its understandable that you should clean up after yourself after you use it. Wipe the hot plate, the counters, the microwave, what not.

 

We have a lawn. Le Fucktard supposed to mow it once it gets unruly.

 

 

So basically those are the rules, in a nutshell.      

 

Last Sunday, while I was doing the laundry, I noticed that le Fucktard was in the kitchen making sandwiches. Fine, then about an hour later after I’m done hanging up my clothes I noticed that he did not clean up after himself in the kitchen. There are bread crumbs on the counter and unwashed dishes in the sink. Fine, I was feeling charitable so I wiped the counter and did the dishes. Sometimes this happened. People are late for class and then all kinds of shit happen and did not clean after themselves. After I’ve cleaned up after that asshole, then only I realise that it was Sunday. And there’s no class on Sunday.

 

Fine, shit happens.

 

Then same shit happened on Monday and I’m like…okay. Interesting. Then on Tuesday the dishes piled up. I asked Dissapeara and she said it wasn’t hers. And then microwave dinner boxes started turning up all over the kitchen counters. Le Fucktard didn’t even bother to fucking throws it into the bin. See, after the whole fish-incident…I have stopped buying TV dinners and now I just cooked for myself. Plus those things taste like crap. Dissapeara cook for herself too and the only one who eat that shit is him. See now I am getting pissed but I have not bumped into him and I’m like “Maybe he has exam and is just stressed out. Maybe his mom is sick. Maybe maybe maybe….” Then this morning I went downstairs for breakfast and lo and behold what should greets me in the morning but his leftover TV lasagne on the kitchen counter and apparently a bunch of ants have made their home there overnight. No seriously, imagined lasagne that was left overnight. And then ants swarming all over it. It was disgusting. I could clean it, I could but I just pour myself a glass of orange juice and drink it while watching the ants have a mighty feast over that lasagne.

Then I washed my glass, went upstairs and knocked on his bedroom’s door.

Die stupid racist fuck! Die!

 

 

It was about 9 in the morning. I woke him up cause I could hear him grumbling as he gets up and walk towards the door. The fact that I woke him up made me happy.

 

 

 The moment he opened the door I was all smiles.

 

“Hey Chris*, did  I woke you up?”

 

“Yeah, you did.”

 

“Good. We need to talk.”

 

“Bout what?”

 

“Are you okay? Are you sick or something? Do you have an exam that you are stressed about round the corner?”

 

“No, why?”

 

“Cause I thought that might be the reason why you have not been pulling your weight around here. The reason why you haven’t done the dishes or clean up after yourself in the kitchen.”

 

“No I just don’t want too.”

 

Le Fucktard totally said that.

 

“Oh, and why is that?”

 

“Cause Tanya* haven’t done the floors.”

 

Seriously, he said that.

 

“She done the floors yesterday.”

 

“Yeah but I told her to do it before and she didn’t and I won’t do my dishes because of that.”

 

See what I have noticed that le Fucktard is a racist bully that thinks he’s better then Dissapeara and I just because he is white. The thing with Dissapeara is that she doesn’t fight him back so he walked all over her and make her do shit.

 

“So how does that make sense? She doesn’t do the floors and then you don’t do the dishes and we all live happily ever after? See Chris, the lawn is getting unruly and one of these days snakes are going to move in and call it their home cause you haven’t mow it. But you don’t hear me or Tanya making noise about it or see us not cleaning up after ourselves and leaving the kitchen in the disgusting mess that it is just cause you don’t pull your weight around here.”

 

He just shrugged.

 

“Listen we are all busy here. Tanya works. I have assignments, just because we can’t do the house chores on time doesn’t mean we are not going to do it. We do it. We are all adults here, not a bunch of 12 year olds playing the blaming game. Seeing that you just woke up you wouldn’t know that a whole bunch of ants are downstairs in the kitchen, having a feast with the lasagne you did not clean up last night. Now you see, I don’t like that.”

“I don’t like it either.”

 

“Then why do you do it?”

 

“Cause Tanya….”

 

“No. This is not about Tanya. This is not about her. This is us talking now. This is about you being immature and trying to put the blame on someone else when you are the one not pulling you weight around here. When I decided to move in here, I was led to believe that this was going to be a clean house. That people actually respects each other in this house. And quite frankly, with the way you have been acting I feel that I was lied to. By you. And I don’t like being lied to.”

 

“No CD, why don’t we talk about this later. When all of us are home, when Tanya is home.”

 

“Good. Tonight then.”

 

I did not yelled when I talk to him. I was calm, I spoke slowly and I did not once broke eye contact. Fucker. After that I went out. Wah I am damn pissed off okay. There are so much shit I hate about him. He is very condescending towards me. He thinks just cause he is white he is better then me. Fuck that shit. I let it go for a while but the ants were the last straw. Fuck that. Tonight I’m gonna say it all to his face. When I got home bout an hour ago, the kitchen was clean though. So I’m happy bout that.

 

Tanya’s home now. I asked her in the kitchen just now if she wanna have the talk with Chris. She said she didn’t’ want too. She wants to go out with her boyfriend. The woman doesn’t like confrontations. I thrive on it. I’m waiting for her to leave the house and then I’m gonna call Chris and we gonna have our “talk”.

 

Stupid fucking asshole.

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.

I'm racist. You're racist.......So what happens now?

Disclaimer: The following post deals with issues concerning racism. It could be hurtful to you. It could also piss you off to the point of wanting to track me down and kicking my ass. So if you don't feel like reading an extremely long post in which I ponders the issue of racism in all my pseudo-intellectual glory, then don't. Unlike the real world; freedom of choice still rules supreme in the blogsphere.

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

Let's be honest here, there is a bit of racism in all of us.

If you can honestly say that you are not racist, at all, then you my friend are a liar. We are all racist. It comes with the upbringing. When we were growing up our parents, our relatives, the people of our own race who associates with us......well they inject a certain something into our subconscious. It is called ""racial superiority". The case in which we view our race, our people as better than anyone else’s. This shit is like Sociology 101 yo.


Now how we are going to deal with that racism is up to us. We can choose to remain being racist or we can choose not to. Me? I have selective racism. It is shameful. It is wrong. I should get my ass whooped for it….but then you know, no matter how ossum you guys think of me, I am still but human. A constantly dramatic human, but still human.



You wanna know who I am racist towards? Chinese teenagers. Yes, do I hear uproar out there? Yes of course I do. But please before flooding my comment box with hate comments, let me just get some points across. I am not racist against all Chinese teenagers; I am only racist against those supa kawaii ones. The ones who find the need to emulate Japanese street fashion, to be anime themselves, the ones that wear top to bottom pink, the ones that talk like fucking bimbos……and those are just the girls. The boys, God the boys are another story all together.


But I do notice that this damn fucking annoying anime/Japanese/Harajuku behaviour are most of the time attributed in Chinese teenagers exclusively and because of that I am racist towards them. Please note that I am not racist towards the Chinese, just the supa kawii ones. I have Chinese friends, I watch Chinese movies, I think Lee Hom is a hot piece of ass and remember geek boi of which I had a………..sex dream of? Dude’s Chinese. How’s that for not being racist against the Chinese?


The second group of people that I am racist towards are white people. Yeah I know. Contradictory ain’t it? Am I not the one who goes on and on about how I wanna bang Clive Owen’s within an inch of his life? And clearly, he’s white. Do I not idolize Kelly Clarkson, and look at her- she’s white! Am I not blogging in English, which we Malaysians recognize as the language of white people? I mean go anywhere in Malaysia and speak a bit of good English and you’ll probably get comments that go along this line: “Berlagak lah tu, sebab pandai cakap bahsa omputih.”

Let me explain. I am not racist towards all white people. I am only racist towards white people living in Malaysia. Now I dunno whether you guys notice but white people living in Malaysia, most of them, they think they are so much more superior than we the locals. Cause they’re white. Just because we are all brown and suddenly they’re white in the sea of brownies, they think they are so much superior to us? It does not help that most Malaysians cannot escape the colonized mentality and view them as better than us. And because of this, white people in Malaysia think they can take advantage of us. They can skip queues, get discounts and bla fucking bla just cause they’re white. They think they can get away with anything, just cause they’re white.

Shit pisses me off.

And no, my selective racism is not limited to other races only. I am racist against my own people too. Malay people. Yeah I know, I am here to declare that yes that the Constantly Dramatic One is Malay and I take an active role to not be associated with people that I deem to be “too Malay”. The ones that I like to label as “kampong”. I mean the ones that only want to watch Malay movies, religiously watch "Akademi Fantasia", go for those damn "Sure Heboh!" bullshit. Yeah….those. I am racist towards them.


I view myself as more modern, liberal, hipper Malay whereelse they are the outdated, boringly traditional and kampong Malays. They in turn, do not view me as a modern, liberal or hip with a positive spin to it….They look at me and think that I’m a skank for not dressing in the typical Malay fashion, and that I am going to burn in Hell for being me. They also accuses me of bringing shame to the Malay community for being “liberal”. They are as racist towards me as I am to them. The cyle of hate that comes with racism is a vicious one.

So you see, I am racist. I will not deny it. But I am selectively racist. I do not blindly hate a group of people just because what I heard or because I have been thought that my race is “supposedly” superior when compared to everyone else’s. I hate them for reasons that make sense to me. So does it make it okay for me to hate?

Of course not. It’s hurtful.



I’m sure what I wrote about being racist towards Chinese teenagers have angered…well Chinese people out there. I’m sure what I said about white folks would lose me my international readers and I’m sure somewhere out there some Malay girl is reading my blog and going “Oh dia ingat dia bagus sangat lah sekarang? Betina sial.”…or you know something along those lines. Because let’s face it. Racism hurts.

So why am I bringing all this up? Why am I airing my racism out to the world? Because, I just recently encountered such blatant racism myself. I encountered it from someone who I think of as a friend. I thought he was cool....then I stumbled upon his blog and I found these gems:


“……………Waiting for the other guy, he stood there, the book in hand, and the place it below his lip and on his chin, the way you would place your fingers below your lip when you're thinking. OMG, the bloody Malay idiot. I just wanted to slam his face along with the book into the counter repeatedly. If he wants to get that personal with my book, let him have the whole shebang, I'd have shoved it up his ass if it didn't interfere with morals... and laws against assault.

Unfortunately for me, the book was the only one they had. Argh, kill kill kill. And if anyone wonders why I believe majority of Malays are uncivilised imbeciles that I wouldn't trust to even be my slave, let them go spend a night with Mr. Bookaphile over there.

Genocide, here we go!”

And this:

“…………show me a malay who seemingly doesn't exhibit traits of imbecility and/or incivility, and I'd prove you wrong.”


I mean, wow. Can you guys just feel the racism in that? At first I was shocked; I always thought he’s a cool guy you know. He doesn't show his racism in real life but every other post is about how he thinks Malay people should be rendered obsolete. Once the shock is over, I became extremely angry. And I just wanna track him down in college and kick him in the balls. I did. Then I thought of attacking him in my blog and then it occurred to me that……….wouldn't that be totally hypocritical of me?


I sure am not as racist as him. I do not want to commit any genocide and no I will not hold it against his people for the things he said………. but to judge him on his opinions of my people, his racism, when I’m in turn is racist too? That’s just wrong and shallow of me. But just because I can think sensibly about this does not mean that his words do not hurt. And that’s what racism is all about. They hurt, they anger and all that’s left is hate.

I have stopped being angry with him. I have also decided to stop being his friend. I don’t think that I could associate myself with someone who clearly looks down on me just because of my race. But of all things that I take out of this, most of all…is pity. I feel sad for him. If you read his blog and if you know him in real life as I do, he is a very clever guy. Quite witty too. But that’s just so much hate there..... I do not know where this hate for Malay people comes from. I do not know whether it is justified. I do not know. What I do know is that, it’s such a damn shame to have so much racism and hate in someone as young as he is.


We are all racist in our own way. It's just a question on how far we let the racist in us go. Do we let them dictate the way we think or view a person of a certain race without any justification? Or do we hold on to our racism but accept a person, albeit begrudgingly, if they turns out to not be what we have envisioned? Are we happy to lead our lives with all these hate and in turn pass it down to the next generation? Could we ever live in a world in which there is no such thing as racism, be it individually or institutionalized? Will the cycle of hate, unjustified suspicions and blind arrogance ever end?

I understand the idea of choosing a part of yourself to be the centre of your being. Gay people wear their homosexuality with pride. It is what defined them as individuals. I choose my dramatic antics to be the centre of my being. The thing that defines me as an individual. But sadly for him, instead or choosing his cleverness or his wittiness or a thousand other good qualities that he has as a human being.....he instead chose his racism to be the centre of his being. The thing in which he defined himself with as an individual.

He wears his racism with pride.

And that is the most saddest, heartbreaking thing I have ever encountered in my entire life.

College policy, my ass

Dude, I fucking hate the parking attendants in my fucking college. Fucking piece of shit assholes.


I am so sick and tired of getting oggled at when I walk towards my car. I am sick and tired of getting hit on whenever I pay for the tickets. I hate that disgusting leering stare and bitch, I know the fact you asked me for my "Full name and student ID" isn't college policy. What kind of bullshit is that? "I need your Full name and ID or you cannot leave this parking lot". What in the fucking blue hell is that? Huh?!!! You fucking piece of shit. I asked around and apparently this new college policy only applies to me. You think I'm stupid? Good thing I just glared at you until you got scared enough to lift up the barrier so that I could leave.


I hate to sound like a spoilt, condescending bitch but excuse me, I'm the one pursuing tertiary education here, not sitting in a fucking parking booth coming up with some bullshit plan to get names off students. And given the circumstance, I highly doubt that I'm the stupid one. On Monday, I am gonna take a fucking pic of you on my mobile phone and than march down to the college admin.


I'm fucking taking you down for sexual harassment you piece of shit son of a whore.