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Things I learnt Recently

MAJOR EDIT. Before you read the following post, I'd like to share this video with you. It has nothing to do with the post but just watch it unless you follow Britain's Greatest Talents fervently:

Now, you can enjoy our regular programming.

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I've learnt a new thing. I'll explain it in point form so that the blur and ignorant among us don't need to feel dumb.

1. You have apocrine glands [This is not the thing I learnt recently!]
2. Apocrine glands produce pheromones [No, either.]
3. Pheromones are airborne chemicals that in humans mainly function is for sexual arousal [I know this, too]
4. Apocrine glands mainly are situated in the pubic and axilliary areas [You know what, I'm just gonna tell you which one I don't know]
5. Axilla is your armpit
6. Apocrine glands start to work on the onset of puberty
7. Pubic and armpit hair also start to grow on when you start your puberty
8. Armpit and pubic hair is not like your normal head hair [You know it, you've caressed and compared your hairs too. Admit it]
9. Apparently, according to some US-based NEWTON online scientific society doctor, the function of these coarse hairs [This is the part I didn't know] is to project pheromones more efficiently 0.o
10. Conclusion 1: If you shave/pluck/epilate your armpit and pubic hair, you're gonna be less sexy to people further from you.
11. Conclusion 2: I still find armpit hair gross. And ungroomed pubic hair too. [This is the second part of the things I didn't know]

To fix that information in your mind scroll down...

Enjoy the rest of your day with that image in your head

P.S. I swear, after my english post, I've been doing a LOT of silly grammatical mistakes wtf

How to combat winter depression

These few days I've been plagued with winter depression. No, not as horrible as my prep-first-year years, not really a depression, also. More of a slight blue funk than depression, really. 

Then, today, to make matters worse, today I feel the encroaching army of sickness. You know the feeling: not-really-sore throat; a general not-so-weak weakness; not-really-pain in your muscles, or in my case fat flaps; that warm-not-in-a-good-way thing that's trapped in you. Yeah, sickness precognition wtf.

So, I decided to get out of my emotional and physical bummed-up mojo on the way to the bathroom. And no, I didn't raise my spirits traditionally. You can't get it up when you're feeling all sick and stuff. 

I decided to shower in a colder temperature than comfortable: cold showers are always refreshing. Got rid of that sick feeling right away.

Now, to battle the aforementioned slight blue funk: I set this as my wallpaper:

Now the faithful readers of my blogdrive blog would understand this but I'll explain it to you anyway. 

These are cosplayers potraying the Legend of Zelda characters. That's unimportant. I laugh pitifully at cosplayers in general. They always seem to have no life. Even more than me. 

But these girls... Let it be known that I harbor no lustful thoughts for them. I just like to look at their cute faces. They always make me giggle. No, I don't imagine them naked, I don't imagine doing nasty stuff to them. I just like to look at their faces. GiggleGiggleGiggle. 

The left one is rather androgynous but her smile... God, her smile! I tell you, most people would look thousands of times better when they're smiling. But then again, some look more horrendous. Her smile could rival Mona Lisa's but that's not really fair, is it? Mona Lisa's smile says, "I'm thinking of that secret we both share."; Left girl's saying... I don't know what. I scrolled up to the picture for reference and started giggling again.

The right one have that "Ooh! Bunnies!" look that's priceless. That also make me giggle like a little girl. 

GiggleGiggleGiggle

I wanted to lament how I could not seem to want to write about anything but religious restrictions and to write a fiction but... oops, glanced up and giggled again.

Ihihihihihihihihihihihihi

Edit: One thing I absolutely hate about blogspot is how they don't widen your column when you put a big pic. I had to do this manually.

Language I

I have this rather irrational fear of people thinking that I look down on the Malay Language. Sure, I find the vulgar words extremely... well, vulgar. I mean, for me, Fuck is not so vulgar compared to Puki and Pantat and even the quasi-rude Cipet. They sound horrendous, don't you agree? I for one can't use them even when I'm angry. Unlike Fuck.



But I digress. I speak very bad proper Malay. I write very bad Malay. Hell, in my SPM the lowest mark I got was Malay. I did not grow up in a Malay speaking environment. Before you give me all the pah! and tearing of clothes with disgust at my statement, I would like to inform you that my parents encouraged us to speak English from a very early stage. We grew up with Peter and Jane. And they'd buy us gifts if we speak good English. True, they don't speak English all the time. Hell, not even most of the time. They speak Kelantanese or Kelantanese English.

Again, with the hair-pulling and cloth-tearing: STOP! Kelantanese have very different grammatical structure compared to Malay.



For instance, in Malay, you would say, "Pagi tadi, semasa di dalam perjalanan ke sekolah, saya ternampak kemalangan jalan raya di antara dua kereta."
Now, in Kelantanese, that would be, "Pagi ni kawe dok jale gi skoloh, tibo-tibo gedegung! Keto bi eng langga pghotong. Huh, habeh punoh pghotong loh. Hok tue dio tu pulok..."

That is without all the inflections. Inflections and sound effect and elaboration of the subject is very important in Kelantanese.

If you simply say, "Pagi ni, tengah kawe dok jale gi skoloh, kawe napok keto langga keto.", a Kelantanese would nod and though, he would register what you said, it would take massive willpower and effort to continue the conversation.

Ok, so I grew up in a Kelantanese-English+English environment. Until this day, whenever I go to a friend's place and hear him speak in BM to his family, I suppress the laughter. Especially Johor BM. Yes, Nurlin, if you read this, I have to tell you, hearing you use Kamu with your brother is extremely funny to me.



So, let's examine my forte instead, eh? I speak horrible English. This was confirmed to me by Barry in Darjah 6 and now it's even worse. Russian, Malay and Kelantanese influence screw up my speaking English.

My writing English, on the other hand, I would be modest to say that I'm just above average and hell, let me be modest here. Russian still mess up with my English but I rather think that I do less careless mistake in writing English than most non-native speakers. That being said, you could, of course, understand why was I so pissed when my UiTM English teacher told me I speak good English. No? Well, let me tell you the story:

I was in UiTM for two months before I started studying in Russia. So, we had a class of English 101 in UiTM. It was the first day of the English class. The sun was shining, the birds were singing. I was in a fairly good mood. I loved English classes in high school. Not so much because of the teacher. The teacher was ok for your average high school English teacher but she used to teach Geography, for goodness sake. And me and few of my friends were better at the language than her. That's not an exaggeration. No, I looked forward to English classes for the Essay-writing part of the programme. We would let our imagination go wild with every story. Ah, those were the days.

So where was I? Oh yes, the English 101. So, for the first day of class we had to do a pop quiz. Fair enough, I thought. You have to test our mastery of English, don't you? So, I look at the questions and was baffled. I had to fill in the blanks with 'is', 'are' or 'am'. I thought of telling the teacher there must be some mistake but being quite the nerd that I was and am, I just did what I was told. Surely, it's for formality sake, right?

Naturally, I scored a hundred for that 20-questions paper. And the teacher came to me to congratulate me. With her heavily accented but grammatically perfect English, she commended me for my command of the language with unveiled surprise in her face. You understand why was I offended? She was SURPRISED that I knew how to put 'is', 'are' and 'am' at their respectful places. IS AM ARE. IS ARE AM!

I never went for another English 101 class after that.

I strayed far from the main purpose of this blog. I wanted to tell you how important English is for certain professionals: Lawyers, Politicians, Doctors, Lecturers and so on. But this entry has been going on for so long without any relevant pictures, I'm gonna save that for another day.

Toodles.

P.S. - The pictures are all artworks of the very talented Yaro42 and I don't do them justice by not showing them in their full-size glory. Head on to his gallery if you're interested.

Suckage of Blogging: A Thesis

Uno:

Image by BabushkaYaga

You blog because you want a way to vent. Ok, but you can't rant about:

1 - someone who reads or might be reading your blog;
2 - someone whose friend reads your blog and you doubt the friend's loyalty to you
3 - something that you feel strongly about BUT you know a friend who reads you who feels the opposite way

Yeah, shut up with your 'it's your freedom of speech', 'oh, I won't mind', 'eh nevermind, I can learn from my mistakes': Nobody is ok when you say bad things about them/ their beliefs on how the world turns. Not even your best friends since womb. Nope, nada. Just keep it inside and shut up.

I, however, in my most desperate of days, managed to sneak in a very heavily-veiled attack in a few of my entries that nobody except for me will understand it. I get to feel the sense of accomplishment of saying something to a person's face and the victim won't get irritated because he/she doesn't realize that it's directed to them.

Dos:

Image by AK-is-Harmless

There's a lot of types of bloggers out there. There are the writers like yours truly, the capabs [How American does Kuh-Pap sounds eh? It's pronounced Cha-Pubs by the by], the camwhores, the emo, the real writers who don't really care who reads them and so on, and so on.

Let me tell you a secret. Writer-bloggers, the first one, LOVE it when people leave comments on their entries. It's true. There's a major hintage if there is ever one. Even a Hi, I read your blog comment. Yeah, I do sound pathetic but I'm 3 parts writer, 1 part emo and half a part capab so there.

Tres:

Ah, I don't have a tres, so I'll post this video:

It irks me that people don't watch my video. So watch it! I won't post anything that's not good for you.

I am so watching this

Pereriv

Sometimes you just have to step out of all the rage and chaos and, yes, even controversies and listen to songs that makes you feel warm and fuzzy. Therefore:



Moonshadow by Cat Stevens


What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong


Imagine by John Lennon


Give Me Love by George Harrison


Ain't Got No / I Got Life [Groovefinder Remix] by Nina Simone


One Love by Bob Marley

That's enough of feel good song to get you through the week. If you hate these songs, save us by rolling in honey and hanging yourself near a black grizzly bear's cave.

Creating Controversies

picture by Puk3y101

It's so easy to create controversies. People are so bloody sensitive when it comes to things that don't affect them the least.

Take the recent idiocy of the fatwa diarrhea for example. A non-muslim friend said that she didn't think the fatwa on yoga is credible because commercial yoga don't even touch the spiritual side of yoga. She got blasted. Apparently, she insulted Islam.

...

"Religious" people get so easily excited over people saying something about their belief that they don't accept/are ignorant of. You shouldn't insult our religion, nay, negatory, noncorrectomundo! But we're free to insult yours.

...

Feminists. You open the door for them, you're being condescending. You don't open door for them, you're being an unchivalrous pig.

...

People hate it when you're controversial. I secretly believe that they're angry that they themselves didn't have the courage to do what you did. That's my secret for PostSecret

Equality between sexes

Image by qczman

Fuck you, there's never been and never will be equality between sexes.

Man and woman were not built the same. A penis is just not a vagina. And man-boobs can never be as glorious as natural boobs.

Men are superior to women, generally, in terms of physical strength and... umm... hmm... oh yeah... no... Well, that's it.

A woman is superior to a man in every other way:-

• Emotionally - yes, you cry a lot but it's healthier than the male bottling-up
• Physiologically - your immune system, your hemostasis, your instincts... hell everything la
  
• Sexually - Dude, women can get multiple orgasms! You know how many guys envy that?
• Socially - reproductive, nurturing, political, economical roles have been dominated by women since the dawn of time. Men's only role in a purely biological and evolutionary society is reproductive, i.e. continuing the breed. And that too society only needs the seeds, not the whole organism
• Spiritually - In all systems of belief women come after men. God made men and said, "Oh shit, I fucked up." and made women. Women are Homo Sapiens 2.0
• Medically and scientifically, do you know that the embryo's neutral template is that of a female? This means that if there is a problem with a genetically male fetus' gonads not producing testosterone or something, the baby born will resemble a baby girl, complete with vagoo and stuff, and if this is not fixed, this might go on for the rest of his/her life.
  

Image by mehmeturgut

Male chauvinism mainly came from two ends with one origin. They came through the spreading of Christianity and Islam. No, I'm not saying that these religions teach sexual bigotry... Well, you have to ignore whatever Paul said post-Jesus. Paul is a sexist wanker.

But see in the Quran and in the Gospels. Both raises the standards of women. You see, there was no need to raise the standards of women in all other societies in the world except for the Mid-Eastern tribes.

Sure, the Son of Heaven is the Supreme Ruler of Ancient China but the Queen Mother by tradition always had the last words. See the priesthoods of Mars and Amaterasu. See the cult of the druids and the Puteri Gunung Ledang. Women played at least an equal, if not greater, role in all ancient societies.

The Y chromosomes have only 86 working genes compared to the thousand that are in the X. Even Evolution hates us. We're dead sooner or later, men. Better suck up to the girls now.

So girls, stop your whining. We'll be gone sooner than you expect.

Cikgu aku gempak

I've always been the teachers' pet for almost all subjects since my secondary school, I think. I don't know, maybe I'm just lovable and cuddly in nature. Maybe it's because I pay attention when they speak and seriously, people our age don't do that no more.

Nah, it's the cuddly thing.

So, anyway, my favouritest teacher in high school was this one lady named Pn Rawiyah Mustaffa Kamal. And, like everyone in high school, she first referred to me as Dahlia's brother. You'd think that'd be something to be annoyed about but seriously, EVERYBODY referred to me as Dahlia's brother. Even some of my friends who I knew for so damn long. Haha.

And at first I thought the Kamal at the end of her name is just something people add, that is to say, there was quite a famous actor back then named Mustaffa Kamal and everytime I hear the name Mustaffa, I make a mental addition of Kamal. You know, like Colonel and Sanders, Ronald and McDonald and so on. I thought everybody did it. Haha.

Everybody loved the BM teacher and that's a rare ocassion in our class. The sports-metallica jocks liked her. The group of Malay girls liked her. The numerous pengawases loved her. Hell, even the cool chinese gang at the back of the class loved her. This is a BIG thing, since they seemed like they have a problem with every single one of our teachers.

'02-'03 were the years of WWF and the thing that was shown back then was Raw is War! and Pn Rawiyah was often referred to as Pn Raw. And I don't know why but I doodled a caricature of her [It was my I-wanna-be-a-comic-artist stage] and scribbled under there Raw is War! Needless to say, she discovered it and that earned me an ear twisting. One of the guys sitting at the back of the class brought a camera, I think it was the last week of school, and that moment was immortalized forever in our senior year's Gemala magazine.

After leaving SMKSU, I tried to set up lunch/high tea with her and my friend her daughter but I guess time was never on our side. At one point, me and Amni, her daughter, that is, even toyed with the idea of a picnic, haha. Oh well. There's always this summer.

And Amni just told me that Pn RAW has a blog!!! Bimbo mode commencing- Like, OMGary! I'd be super scared if my parents ever discover blogging. They'll be, like, all up my space and whatnot. Like, whatever! - Bimbo mode end

What is the purpose of this post? I don't know. I just feel like sharing it. It's my blog so shut up if you don't like it. I guess, it's a tribute. I would have written in BM but my BM is so bad I'd insult Pn Raw.

Blogspot's acting weird now and I can't add a pic of her here. Oh well.

A New Fatwa

PRINCESUCCESS, Bolehland: The National Fatwa committee of Bolehland has decided to show to people how ignorant they are and a new way to put 'Islam' to a new low.

Dr. Sakaria Ztapa from the Faculty of Islamic Destruction of the University Kebangsaan Bolehland claimed that breathing can be traced back to the pagan belief of cavemen. He explained that the cavemen breathed and therefore are able to worship the sun, the moon and their neighbour Bob's inch-long penis.

"Breathing is therefore essential to the pagan spirituality," explained Dr. Ztapa. "And anyone breathing are deviating from the true teaching of Islam!"

He further urged that all Muslims cease to breathe and those who are practicing this vital act should stop immediately.

When asked by this reporter why Dr Ztapa hadn't stopped breathing, the Dr immediately held his breathe and after five minutes collapse lifelessly.

Following this recent and sudden death, Muslims of Bolehland gathered to mourn his passing by pissing and spitting on the corpse. But the devotees were disappointed: it seemed that the body was struck by lightning an average of three times in a minute and this obvious divine approval of the Doctor's fatwa brought joy to the gathered crowd. They then proceeded to fling their refuse to the corpse from a safe distance.

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Seriously, people call me an embarassment to Muslims everywhere, a murtad, a munafiq and quite a few other mu-s, and they let this guy run around? Hell, the whole fatwa committee should be condemned too for actually having to discuss this rather than throwing it straight into the sewage treatment center, where it belongs.

Summore proudly say that they hadn't reached a decision. Is a form of exercise equal to deviation of Islam? If you take a whole week to declare that you can't reach a conclusion about this obvious matter, you can see which retards are passing spiritual laws in Malaysia.

Women wearing pants = tomboys = lesbians, so no no for Muslims. But gay guys also wear pants what and dresses and robes. Maybe we should all be naked.

The usage of the word Allah should be exclusive for Muslims. Muslim readers ask yourself. Why was Muhammad tolerated when he said none should be worshipped but Allah? I mean, you might say he preached discreetly but obviously it is known because he was getting so much shit, figuratively and literally. Don't know? Well, in pre-Islam Arab mythology, Allah is actually a God too. With three daughters summore, Manat, Latta and Uzza. So, Muhammad was seen as a cult leader rather than bringer of a new religion.

What does this mean? It means that we should censor the Quran. Throw out every single Allah there is in all its form and, since, obviously, Malaysian Malays are the most supreme race, substitute the pagan Allah with P Ramlee or Kassim Selamat. Yeah, you should begin each prayer with Bismi-P. Ramlee-rahmanirrahim.

I know some thick headed bastards are going to condemn me as a apostate, so let me say this here: It's sarcasm, people. And if you HAVE to leave a comment saying that I shouldn't joke about this kind of stuff, just leave a comment saying "I can't take a joke" and I'll understand. A "I am an idiot" or a "I'm a retard" will also be understood.

I demand a reformation of the National Fatwa Council immediately! I demand a review of every single fatwa they issued!
Seeing how you can make fatwas on anything you so damn well pleased without good backing evidence, [or, indeed, any at all] I declare a fatwa to carry this big ass I Hate STUPID FATWAS badge thing on all your blogs.

Holly's looking dry

I just can't ignore a good headbanging. And the run-run-run part is the best I've heard. w00t!



Easy Target
Blink 182
All her signals are getting lost in the ether,(That's what she wanted)
she's a landslide with a city beneath her(That's what she wanted)
So take a good look, so you'll never forget it (That's what she wanted)
Take a deep breath, I know I'm gonna regret it (That's what she wanted)

Holly's looking dry looking for an easy target
Let her slit my throat give her ammo if she'll use it
Caution on the road lies lies and hidden danger.
Southern California's breeding mommy's little monster.

She's got a mission, and I'm collateral damage. (That's what she wanted)
She's the flower that you place on my casket. (That's what she wanted)
Savor the moment cause the memory's fleeting.
Take a photograph, as the last train is leaving.

Holly's looking dry looking for an easy target
Let her slit my throat give her ammo if she'll use it
Caution on the road lies lies and hidden danger.
Southern California's breeding mommy's little monster.

Better run run run run run (Holly let me out)
Better run run run run run (Holly let me out)
Better run run run run run (Holly let me out)
Better run run run run run run run (Holly let me out)

The Hood Theory

I've discovered something today.

Yes, a new theory. [For those who doesn't know me, I have a buttload of theories without any backing]

I christened it the Hood Theory, jengjengjeng.

When you use those sweaters with hoods rationally, i.e. when it's cold and not when you're in a sweaty country thinking you so ghetto, sweaters with hoods can really affect you psychologically.

You wear hoods when it's cold, so it's probably late autumn or early winter. The weather's fucked up. It's gloomy, it's cold. Physiology dictates that you'd be depressed.

So, you put up your hoods. The material is quite thick, just like that double chin you're growing. Every sound around you is muffled. Blingblingbling - You feel alone even though it's the mother of all chaos around you.

You have the sight of a race-horse when you pull your hood on. You have to actually turn your head to glance at a thing on your right and left. Extra work is always depressing or is it just me? Anyways, there'd be more near-accidents. You don't really hear/see cars or people coming at you on the street, lots of horns blaring, lots of mumbled apologies -> the feeling the world is against you.

That's why stereotypical rappers from 4-season countries are always depressed and lash out to the community.

If you don't get what I'm saying, maybe these pictures will help:



I'm such a sustagenius!

Edit: Blogspot's fine and all but the upload image service is wtfness personified.

See what a great friend I am

This is something I bought in HK and wanted to give Barry for his birthday but forgot, wtf [Actually, if I had the four, I would've kept it for myself but Newman Tse said the rest must be ordered first because not in high demand. Ho hum]
If you don't get what it is: It's a wooden carving of Lennon that you can hang.

Edit:
Oh yeah, happy birthday, GB.

Flea flea flea

This is a flea. What it does is it sucks blood from its host, be it a dog, cat or humans. There's no medical benefit from having fleas. The itch drives you crazy. The only good thing about having fleas is when you finally stink them to craziness, then, you use your thumbnail to crush the little fuckers to death. The music of the squish and the sight of smeared blood are far more than enough to compensate the months of itchiness you had to endure while feeding them. It's just like growing your favourite veggie, only the harvest is infinitely more satisfying.

I feel like crushing fleas with my thumbnail. But the fleas I feel like crushing could only be satisfactorily killed with a nail-studded club.

Author/artist rendition of the joyful day that will come. Yes the
author/artist has a tummy of a respectable size. Deal with it.

Snippets

Borrowed the title from Che Det sat.

I think my last comment on the last post deserves a blog post of its own but trying to not burn THAT many bridges. Plus, it's against my own personal writer's ethic to write about two same things in a row. Oh well.

I feel my sick side is surfacing. Why, just this noon I saw this guy, complete with those aeroback helmet and wide-ass glasses, cycling with passion that could kill a bull, and I was just imagining how would his face look like if I had thrown something in his way and he hit the thing and was sent flying across the air. Or how about yesterday in the bus when my nose suddenly detected a Clorox smell and I see this girl who's not even 10 with a white spot on her skirt and... well, let's just say that was the most sickest I've ever felt.

This morning I decided that I would be depressed for the day. After all, you shouldn't ALWAYS be happy. The balance of Yin and Yang would be upturned. After 20 minutes, I started laughing. I'm such a failure.

I just succumbed to the world of facebook. Yes, kids, facebook. Shoot me in the head and call me a whore.

Spider Jerusalem is my journalistic idol now. I mean, while I love King and Gemmell, I don't want to write like them, you see. Despite the fact that Jerusalem is totally fictional and Warren Ellis created him from thin air, you just have to admire the choice of words he uses: Whorehopper; I can't give two tugs of a dead dog's cock; and my absolute favourite: Mother of Twelve Bastards!

I have very little recollection of my Sekolah Rendah days. Hours after I created my account on Facebook, an old friend wanted to add me into her list of friends and for the life of me, I can't recall her. I have 2, 3 very vivid memories from that area of my life like how Ikhwan lent me 80sen to buy Mirinda [I still feel guilty for not paying him back]; or Haizal's shouts for help after falling off his bike into a longkang in front of house and me not even turning to see what's wrong because I didn't really fancy the guy back then [Again, ridden with guilt]. And how I lied to my dad about rm10 and him going berserk when he found out I lied. There are some good memories too: how a friend of mine asking a really early-bloomer friend how was his glue-glue-gum dream; drawing ninjas with my Sekolah Agama friends - Shah Haiqal, Syazwan, Amiruddin and a guy with specs whose name I can't recall right now; lots of memories of laughing, though I'm not quite sure now about what and with who. Oh well.

Oh yes, who can forget the day the FICTIONAL scandal started between me and Azza? Jeez, she only said Hi to me and I replied back. Can't believe I treated her badly for the next few years because of that, you know boys' misogyny and all that. Still, I'd like to think I wasn't too late in saving that relationship with my winning charm, eh, Azza?

I want to go to Amsterdam for a week and spend at least 3 days baked. I kinda regret not taking that joint when the arab guy offered me but then again I was too young. Way too young. Now I'm old enough and people actually think I'm much older than I am, so it's okay, isn't it? Clearly the show Weeds have such a bad influence on me.

An Unfinished Argument

A scholar student gave this point to the visiting members of the MMC [Malaysian Medical Council] to our university, the gist of which is, “Dear sirs, we get USD 500 a month. With the rising economy, I don’t think it’s enough.”

Another supported the claim by saying, “Unlike private students, we have to pay for the hostel and air ticket.”

Yes, sirs. It’s not enough. I mean, the scholar stundents go to Benetton and Adidas shop only twice a week. New football season means new original nike boots, jerseys. You have to think about that, sirs.

And sirs, what about the winter vacation, sirs? We want to go to Monaco, Rome, Turkey. Where are we getting to do this money, sir?

Let’s take the average private student’s expenditure. They get 500 ringgit, the apartment or hostel is paid for by the parents. The air ticket is paid by the parents. They go winter holidays to Moscow and St Petersburg. Maybe the occasional Turkey or Egypt once in two years.

Let’s be nerds and do some maths:

500 USD is equivalent to more than RM 1500. Let’s take RM 1500.

The average private student uses RM 500. So the difference is RM 1500 - RM500 = RM 1000. In 10 months, the difference is RM 1000x10 = RM 10 000.

The most expensive hostel costs USD 950. Let’s take USD 1000 so that it’d be easier to count. That’s around RM 3000.

So we take the RM 10 000 – RM 3000 = RM 7000.

Take the air tickets then. The higher end airlines cost around RM 4000. That means, RM 7000 – RM 4000 = RM 3000.

You should tax the private students' parents more so that you can add each of us at least 200 USD more!

Sir, please be considerate. RM 3000 where got enough for our Eurotrip! How to pay for our new jerseys and boots each year? Tell me, sirs! How???!!

I have to borrow this from Patrick Teoh.

NIAMAH!!!

Edit
Apparently, according to government students, we private are jealous of them getting the scholarship. Yes, that's true, it has nothing at all to do with how greedy the very thought of asking more of the Rakyat's money to be spent on their European vacation. Hell, they're like Malaysian Politicians.

Some of them, I do respect. With their USD 500, they manage to give one third to their parents. These are the people who truly deserve scholarship i.e. those who can't afford to study abroad, or even local. But these are the same group of people who didn't complain. The rest are the complainers, the ones who use inside men to get the spots, who care not about those who actually need financial help. These are the motherfuckers I'm talking about.

PETPEA

PETPEA's Mission Statement

People for the Ethical Treatment of People who Eats Animals (PETPEA), with more than 2.0 million cells of the human organism and its supporters, is the largest and only people who eats animal rights organization in the world.



PETPEA focuses its attention on the four areas in which the largest numbers of people who eats animals suffer the most intensely for the longest periods of time: during PETA idiotic campaigns, PETA's obvious doctoring and staging of pictures, untalented celebrities who support PETA to gain press coverage, and vegans who can't keep their mouth shut. We also work on a variety of other issues, including the cruel victimization of KFCs, MacDonald's and other "pests," and the abuse in the form of meat deprivation.



PETPEA works through public education, cruelty investigations, research, animal butchery, legislation, special events, celebrity defamation, and protest campaigns.

What people have to say about PETPEA:


"It's Finger lickin' good!"


"It IS finger licking good!"


... Ok, I admit, I don't have anything funny to say. I just had to post this picture wtf

Remember, saving sheep and cows and chickens from the slaughterhouse is wrong! Nature made their meat tasty for a good reason!

So, do your part for People who Eat Animals! Support PETPEA!

Welcome!

After getting very very frustratingly annoyed with Blogdrive, I've decided to migrate this here new land.

While I haven't anything to post yet, I thought I might tell you that.

I mean, I'm a nice enough guy not to want any of you to click on the link for nothing, right? I mean, I'd be fairly pissed if I were to get linked to a new site and the site has nothing but the "Under Construction" sign. *cough*Ahliang.com*cough* What's the point of telling everyone about your new site without having anything on it, right?

It's like saying, "Dude, you've gotta check my new car!"
"Oh, where is it?"
"I haven't actually bought it yet, but it's blue with this cool white top and... hey, that's a nice brass knuckles you've got there. Is it new? ARGH!"

I mean how annoyed are you when people do that?

See how considerate I am, eh?