The Sensitive Gay Man

Dear Subjects,

Of recent a majority of my posts have been disturbing tales associated with my best friend Tattoo. Imagine my utter shock the other day when he actually called me up to say that he had been reading my blog and was utterly saddened and dissapointed that i had actually decided to write about him ! What the fuck is this ? Dead GAY Poets Society ??

He had spent the previous two days it seems locked away in his room crying away about the fact that I, by his overtly sensitive account, betrayed him on some front in telling his stories on the world wide web... What a load of horse shit ! Until now the identity of the cunt remains a big bloody fucking secret and the fact remains.......he was not ever famous before(as in more like no one knew he fucking existed) and he for sure ain't famous now.

So therefore I have decided to write a blog today regarding unwritten man rules for the perusal of that stupid wanker. Being a big girl/sissy he needs (as well as all you fellows out there unsure of your sexuality) to understand that guys have certain priorities and perogatives in life to fulfill.

A JOKE BETWEEN MEN CAN ALWAYS BE MEAN AS LONG AS THE JOKE DOESN'T "CROSS THE LINE."

When a man asks another man what did the hand say to the face and then proceeds to slapping the shit out of that man, that joke clearly violated what we call Man Rule #x. Anytime a joke gets physical, the punch line is most likely two men trying to beat the piss out of each other. A joke doesn't just have to be too physical for it to cross the line and violate Man Rule #x. When a joke gets too personal then it stops being funny and starts becoming the opening arguements to a physical altercation.

By no means is this guide by Sangalli telling men to play fucking nice. Fuck that! men play nice with their kids and to get some poontang from an attractive woman. Men should be tough enough to take a joke. Even a momma joke or two is all within the legal limit of a joke. It's when the momma joke goes way too far and is way too personal is when that man has been disrespected. But if a man is not tough enough to take a joke, then he is too sensitive and not going to find any sympathy from this guide by Sangalli.

The sensitive man is usally the subject to countless jokes because he can't take a joke. Men too sensitive leave a scent like a wounded, crying gazelle. It's only a matter of time until another alpha male like myself, who preys on sensitive men like the lion hunting the wounded gazelle, picks up the scent of a weaker man and makes him the punch line to the next joke time and time again. Because this guide by Sangalli doesn't in any way endorse the sensitive man, the next rule will allow the lion to hunt his prey over and over.

AS LONG AS THE LINE ISN'T CROSSED MEN ARE ALWAYS ALLOWED TO EXPLOIT THE WEAKNESS OF ANOTHER MAN.

It-'s all fair when making fun of the sensitive guy and exploiting his sensitive weakness as long as the line isn't crossed. Like if i were to talk about indonesia. It's alll a part of the inner Alpha Male taking advantage of the weaker male. That does not mean that's its's only the sensitive man that gets taken advantage of. Any weakness a man exposes can be taken advantage of and be exploited in a joke by another man at any time.

If a man is scared of spiders, then there is nothing wrong with placing a bunch of fake rubber spiders on this man to scare the piss out of him. Watching a man scream like a little girly bitch is always funny and authorized according to man rule#x. One of the greatest parts of being a man is taking the opportunity to burn and laugh at another man. That amn could be your best friend and closest buddy, but if there is a chance to make him look silly and laugh at him doing so, you are just being a man when you do so.

So Mr. Sensitive @ the girl previously known as Tattoo, stop feeling all melancholy. Sangalli's advice to you is this ( which is my advice to all sissy men ) : Go POP a fucking prozac before you go fuck yourself......

Jiwang Dei.......

Things people do in their sleep

I must be blessed with some of the most weirdest of friends. But the weirdest of all would have to be my friend Tattoo by far. I have had the displeasure of being witness to some of the most disturbing antics that only one such as himself could have come up with. Here is one such incident, which by right should never see the light of day, but this is me and I don't hold anything sacred. So here goes...

It was one of those lazy Saturday mornings where I would have preferred to wrap myself in my duvet and sleep my day away, but unfortunately I had made some prior plans with Tattoo to go do some stuff with our cars, Tattoo considered himself as the man who invented the modern internal combustion engine and had somehow managed to con many into thinking that. But those privy to my blogs would know different. He could not even get his internal combustion system to work properly as you would have by now no doubbt read in the previous posts. Anyway I managed to get my lazy ass out of bed and go pay Mr.Tattoo a visit. Upon arriving at his nasty dwelling, which consisted of a mud hut with a chimney, one could only wonder why a sou hai (as i would put it) would need a chimney in this tropical heat.Not only that, he also had installed all around the hut barbed and sharpened stakes. Not only was my boy a victim of fashion, his house had to suffer too?? Christ !! Like anyone would rob the poor bastard anyways....!!!! And the chimney ? Maybe he was just being cautious and getting ready for that big winter. Dumb fuck. So I proceed to knock at his mud hut, making sure not to make a hole in the thin mud caked grass door. After being what felt a eternity, the door opens and there stands his maid, who proceeds to tell me the useless lard head is still in bed. Aaargh the dumb fuck. Now we were going to be late. At this point if I had known the horrors that I would be witness to, I would have made a bee line back to my car and driven far, far away. But in my naivety I tell her I'll go wake him up from his lazy slumber.

So I proceed to make my way to his bedroom, meandering past their cooking spot on the floor which now only holds the faint ambers of last nights cooking fire, while thinking to myself why the fuck doesn’t he just buy a fucking stove, stupid keling. Finally I reach his spacious cavernous bedroom, which at this point rumbles with a cacophony of snores. Lo and behold, on the bed lies Tattoo the moron with his shirt off and his little man boobs heaving like twisted coconuts on some distant wave. It was an ugly sight. Man he was black and ugly with clothes but semi-naked?? Think dear readers of Gollum. The Dark version. After he fell into the fires of Mordor.

So I brush the image in front of me aside and move closer to wake this sleeping hobbit of a person. I proceed to wake him, at first with gentle prodding then slowly making my way to a earth jarring shake, but all to no avail. This idiotic dumb fuck just proceeds to sleep. After much rigorous attempts to get him up have failed, I stopped, cursing myself for getting up so early just to carry out this fruitless endeavor. Then, just as I was contemplating kicking sleeping beauty in the gut and making my way back home, the most strangest of things happen. Dear Tattoo opens his blood shot eyes, stares directly at me and proceeds to do the most vilest of things I have ever seen. He moves his hands ever so slowly down his pants and starts scratching his privates with such gusto that it resembled someone going at a gold nugget with a pick axe. And while he was giving that itch a good looking at, he had a developed a grin on his face of one who was content with all that life had to give, including that itch. Well at this point I just told myself, well we all get an itch down there and what better places to give into your carnal cravings then in the privacy of your own bedroom. But how was I wrong, because the next thing Tatoo did nearly made me gouge my eyeballs out and stomp on them for merely seeing the sight that was before me. Tattoo after a long period of scratching proceeded to sniff the hand that had stroked the beast and even worst, opened his mouth and started to suck that offending hands thumb. He sucked like a new born calf suckles on his mothers’ tit, looking for sustenance and security. This was sick. The sick fuck. At this point I could not take it anymore and started to run. Trying to find my way out of this sick and twisted place. Then I noticed the same familiar door, that door that had opened up to these horrors. Just as I reached the door, Tattoo's maid pops up and grabs me. What wrong says she, with such innocence. I in my demented ramblings, manage to tell her of my ordeal, to which she coolly replies, while laughing nonetheless, "Ah! That’s normal, he always does that." What? You telling me a full grown, dumb, albeit serially short male who scratches his balls and proceeds to sniff and suck the thumb of the very hand that had done this disgusting deed is normal. NO....No I say, we don’t do that, not me, not any sane male walking gods green earth will do that. No...And with that last cry I got into my car and drove, drove till my car would not go no more.

Jiwang Dei.....

The man behind the name

Since my introduction of Tattoo and his exploits into my blog, I have surprisingly been informed that people out there want to know more about Tattoo. I have even received marriage proposals for him from star struck female readers. Therefore I feel it’s my duty to expand further on the man that has become to be known as "Tattoo".

Tattoo in his early days was a thin, braces wearing lad who thought no end of himself. Actually I secretly believe his parents got him braces to shut his incoherent ramblings of how he is all that. They would have had better results if they had just wrapped chicken wire around his gob. But he was sadly a fish out of water, cos no one really understood him, (didn't really help that the chicken wire made his speech nonsensical), except me. He used to walk with his head held up high, thinking he was god's gift to something, while those around him thought he was a complete nincompoop. Those were trying days for the poor chap, but he soldiered on oblivious to the gawks and finger pointing that went around him.

But as time went by and he blossomed into a young man, you could see he had broken free form his awkward phase in life, but he still looked like a complete doofus. The first time I laid eyes on him was in Secondary School, and how I rue that day. For my life would have been so much simpler if not for that day. There he was walking into class wearing those gunny sack pants, pants deemed fit to be used as uniform by some higher power who probably was sitting in his gloomy office laughing at how his plan to chafe the skin of the poor adolescent males of the school had been successful. When I saw Tattoo that day with his gunny sack and silly grin, something primal in me just wanted to go over, tie that gunny sack over his head and throw him into the deep end of a shallow lake. But alas my better nature took over and I ended up being friends with him and being witness to his countless escapades.

After secondary school Tattoo and me ended up in the same college, how this happened till this day I have no clue. During this period is when I realized that Tattoo was actually a true victim of fashion. I remember quite vividly the first day I saw him without those gunny sack uniform. He looked like a badly casted extra from 90210 with monstrous teeth, oh yes his teeth were huge. He probably was the muse for the dude who invented the coconut scraper. All those years wearing braces seem to have had no effect on his dental demeanor, and his parents should have gotten their money back. Anyway Tattoo continued in his usual nonchalant way and dressed as he pleased; with his two toned silky shirts and carrot cut jeans. Even to this day his fashion sense has not swayed far from that of one being clueless. Recently at a close friends wedding his ensemble was closely related to that of a driver. Yet he didn't give a shit.

Anyway putting all his short comings as a human being aside, Tattoo is quite the character. Therefore I will further endeavour as time goes by to bring his stupid antics to light. Till then happy reading to all.

Jiwang dei.....

Wag The Dog (Disturbing Incident Pt.3)

Dear Subjects,

This is the second disturbing incident that happened during our formative years in school. It was circa 1993 and one month or so before our SPM examination. Tattoo and myself both being last minute sloggers were panicking while studying at my house as we slowly came to the realisation that we fucking knew nothing out of the nine subjects that we were sitting for. FUCK !

We were busy revising for our Biology paper and the subject was reproduction..... I then out of the corner of my eye spied Tattoo eying up my dog Boxy, a cute spayed Scottish Sheepdog.

Then the psychotic horned up twit asks me whether I am sure my dog has been spayed to which i nod in the affirmative. He then with much gusto akin to that of a child molester proceeds to manhandle the dog turn it over and without so much as a thought to his incredibly sex crazed action, propels himself to start jacking the poor creature off. WHAT THE FUCK ??? I stare in complete disbelief at his blurry handaction and realise that there is no hope in hell this psychotic twit will ever set foot in the pearly gates. Part of me wishes beyond all hope that somehow the poor tortured animal will find it in himself to give him a pearly necklace but alas that is not to be as he triumphantly turns to me and confirms the fact that the dog is definetely spayed.

I am still in utter shock when he makes us pinky swear never to reveal this incident to another living soul ...... Ya Right !!!!! The next day before he enters the school compound i made sure i told everyone what had happened and you cannot even begin to fathom the lectures, stares and dissings he received at the hands of classmates (esp. girls ) who could not even begin to understand what had possessed that madman to perform such an act on a dog who everyone deemed to be the cutest thing alive. Even now at gatherings encompassing former classmates there is still a hint of hate when people mention this particular incident. Tattoo just remains uncompassive to the whole thing and pretends to brush it off like it never happened.

As for poor old Boxy, till his dying day whenever he saw Tattoo he just flipped right over and had a come hither and take me you bastard look only just for that wanker......

N.B : It should be noted that Tattoo is the fictional name of a real character who happens to be my best friend. He was given the name after we realised he looks exactly like the character played by Hervé Villechaize in the serial Fantasy Island. He is also of the same stature. Tattoo is now an unemployed bum who does odd jobs collecting dung from the farmyards supplying the farmers with manure for their transgenic crop. How ironic. The shitty bastard. On occasion when bi-planes fly by he has been known to run up and down the paddy fields shouting those immortal words "De Plane!" "De Plane!"Jiwang dei...

Oh Shit not again.... (Disturbing Incident Pt.2)

Dear Subjects,

Tattoo's excrement escapades did not stop during our school days.......Following is another incident that happened quite recently actually......in fact this story is based just two years back.....

It was a gloomy afternoon. Tattoo was busy having a chicken rice lunch with an associate of ours, none other than ScaredShitless.....It was halfway during this when Tattoo began to feel those oh so usual rumblings deep in the pit of his stomach. Undaunted he proceeded to finish off his meal and then proceeded to have a smoke. Now most people know that smoking has a laxative like efect on bowel movement and sure enough the turtle's head reared its mug through the tip of his already tiring spinchter.

It was time to react and Tattoo did so to the best of his ability. The closest place he could think of was the Hyatt Saujana Hotel nearby and so he forces ScaredShitless to follow him on this excursion. Now ScaredShitless is one who possesses many cars but is more akin to hopping into another's car to go places. Probably has to do with the fact that he is a) scared of driving b)scared of using petrol c) scared of wear and tear on his cars.

After reaching the presaid destination, Tattoo realised that he had a very slight window period to find the toilet and he proceeded to look for one, all the while the evil turtle head waited in anticipation to burst forth into the new world. After wasting precious time in fruitless searching he finally found the toilet but alas it was to be too late. Upon entering the toilet area the whole lumpy gravy train burst forth in all its glory almost knocking the poor halfwit off his feet. By the time he entered the stall it was too late he realised to salvage what was once his underwear for now it was a tattered mess. The fine gravy had also worked its way through the very fibers off his bikini cut to produce a large angry stain on his bermudas.

The next half an hour was spent doing damage control. This meant yet again he had nought but a choice then to sneak out ever so often to the basin to wash his underwear and the seat of his pants. Everytime the poor sod heard a noise he had to run back into the stall and hide for fear of being caught by unsuspecting guests. Finally the deed was done. Both his pants and underwear had been washed but nevertheless they were soaking wet not to mention rank with the smell of decayed flesh mixed with a strong caramel aftershock. In a nutshell it was probably the worst stink one can ever think about.

At this point Tattoo walks out and realises ScaredShitless is still waiting for him in the car but by now they have been joined by S.Baba out on rounds with a new vicitm HornyStewardess. Now S.Baba and HornyStewardess have plans to go to a shop specialising in car bodykits and ScaredShitless is adamant on going too. Fuck knows why as he probably might be scared that if he bolted on a bodykit to his car the car may fall apart. Now Tattoo being the sly cunt that he is immediately concocts a story about how the floor in the bathroom was fucking wet and his pants happened to fall in it. Unfazed ScaredShitless still insists on going to the bodykit shop so they hop into Tattoo's car and proceed onwards following S.Baba's car. Now after two minutes being in the car the rank smell starts overpowering any other smell inside the cabin and the Ambi Pur bottle proceeds to commit suicide by performing hara kiri on itself. Undaunted ScaredShitless still insists on going to the shop although at one point Tattoo tries to turn off in the direction of his house only for ScaredShitless to force turn the steering in the opposite direction. Tattoo tells me at that time he actually contemplated murdering the fat bastard.

At the bodykit shop as they alight from the car Tattoo notices his car seat having a really visible wet stain on it.....visible to all except the turd ScaredShitless who was most probably too scared to look. Neways they then stand around chatting while S.Baba gets on with his crooked business dealings with the shop owner. At this time HornyStewardess starts fliting and clinging on to Tattoo and unlike most people who worry about getting some sort of fatal communicable disease this time it was Tattoo who was worried that the putrid stench would pervade her nostrils. But fate played a hand then as S.Baba miraculously had finished off his dealings and had decided that some food from the nearest McDonalds was in order.

On they drove again but this time as S.Baba turned into the Mcdonalds parking lot Tattoo with all the cunning possible from one so small as himself continued driving on......on towards his home....At this point ScaredShitless began wailing and crying imploring Tattoo to turn back and head towards the McD's. Undaunted by the constant drone in his ears caused by the Blubbering Fatso next to him, Tattoo drove on to his house where he finally managed to clean himself up and finally change out of those wet rank clothes.

As he got back into the car ScaredShitless was still wailing and crying. Again murderous thoughts went through his head seeing this big overgrown bufoon going on and on. It was at this time that another friend called and asked them to come over to his house and at long last ScaredShitless stopped the fucking blubbering.

It was at this time that Tattoo started talking about how the smell was mostly gone to which that moron ScaredShitless actually said yes and how he HAD BEEN SUFFERING IN THE CAR ???!!! Makes me wonder sometimes what lengths morons go to at times.....sheesh...

Anyways that night poor Tattoo spent his time cleaning up his seats using industrial paint stripper and solvents at the expense of his sleep as the smell had worked itself into the very fabric of his car seat due to the fact he had spent long amounts of time seated in them.....Poor poor cunt....

N.B : It should be noted that Tattoo is the fictional name of a real character who happens to be my best friend. He was given the name after we realised he looks exactly like the character played by Hervé Villechaize in the serial Fantasy Island. He is also of the same stature. Tattoo is now an unemployed bum who does odd jobs collecting dung from the farmyards supplying the farmers with manure for their transgenic crop. How ironic. The shitty bastard. On occasion when bi-planes fly by he has been known to run up and down the paddy fields shouting those immortal words "De Plane!" "De Plane!"

Jiwang dei...

The Legend

Earlier I wrote about a friend of mine called Tattoo who was so called because he resembled actor Hervé Villechaize, famous for such roles as Tattoo on Fantasy Island and also for playing Nick Nack in the James Bond classic The Man With The Golden Gun where he was the evil sidekick of the villian Scaramanga played by Christopher Lee.

I am a really big fan of this little bastard. Why you say ? Well because it is a little known fact that on each episode of Fantasy Island he propositioned every actress who guest starred on the show. How cool is that ? What a dirty little sod ! This eventually led to his dismissal from the show unfortunately. Fuck man nobody ever recognises talent...... It's of little suprise that the show only lasted one season more after his dismissal..... Audiences missed his tag line of "De Plane" "De Plane"..... This is why i miss my friend Tattoo also. During our schooldays he would regularly do the same should he spot a plane on the horizon !!

Lastly Herve the horned up one also never really got over his dismissal from the show. According to his former butler in an episode of the E! True Hollywood Story, Villechaize never got over losing his job, and for the remainder of his life practiced an often nightly ritual of drinking in a darkened room while screaming obscenities at an episode of Fantasy Island playing on his television. What a cool twat...... He made his final appearance in a cameo role in the 1988 erotic film Two Moon Junction. Nice Eh....... Man he was the bomb and an inspiration to sexual deviants everywhere........

Jiwang Dei.....

An Awesome Poem

Dear Readers,

What I am about to say to you is of the utmost importance. Whenever you are in a tight situation this following poem comes in handy. The way to use it is to say each word while pointing to a different person and then when it has finished you point to the last person and guffaw inanely.

The words are as follows:

Vahllakaar Tohllakaar
Oruevahlli Pahvakarr
Dahm Duhm
Duss Puss
Kuss.....

Then you just point at the last person while guffawing inanely and claim that they have let one rip......when in actual fact it was probably you.....

Jiwang Dei....

P.S : For a translation as to what it means please leave a comment and i will get back to you.

The Shits 3 ( Disturbing Incident Pt.1)

This is a continuation of The Shits 2 (Disturbing Events Pt. 1) and any or all reference should be made to that blog.

Now all that time in the bog had made poor Tattoo very hungry and so he bought some goreng pisang to munch on while trying to hail a cab to go on home. Almost immediately he managed to procure the services of one and so he climbed in and said the now infamous words "Tehlos Piggi". Oh and it should be mentioned that his use of the National Language is limited to say the least.

As the cab driver drove on as instructed towards Tattoo's house he soon became quite agitated as Tattoo noticed. Then Tattoo realised why as the cabbie soon said " Wahhh banyak terror la you! Itu goreng pisang memang busuk sangat tapi engkau masih sanggup makan hah ! To which Tattoo calmly replies " Tahpi Shedap Lahh"

Finally they reach Tattoo's house and Tattoo gratefully pays him before alighting the cab. And then he sees something which scares the living crap out of him which is the fact that there are poo nuggets gently floating in a light brown shit gravy in between the recesses of the seat visible quite clearly. Luckily the cabbie misses it and so Tattoo runs into his house grateful he would not be the next unlucky sodomite to get in that unfortunate cab.

The next day in school he pretends nothing ever happened and even accuses people of spreading vicious rumours about him......what a right cunt....!!

N.B : It should be noted that Tattoo is the fictional name of a real character who happens to be my best friend. He was given the name after we realised he looks exactly like the character played by Hervé Villechaize in the serial Fantasy Island. He is also of the same stature. Tattoo is now an unemployed bum who does odd jobs collecting dung from the farmyards supplying the farmers with manure for their transgenic crop. How ironic. The shitty bastard. On occasion when bi-planes fly by he has been known to run up and down the paddy fields shouting those immortal words "De Plane!" "De Plane!"

Jiwang dei...

The Shits 2 ( Disturbing Incident Pt.1)

This is a continuation of The Shits (Disturbing Events Pt. 1) and any or all reference should be made to that blog.

Undaunted by the fact that the whole class by now knew of his misdeed, Tattoo with all the bravado afforded to one guided by an IQ of that of a rotten stump got up, flipped a birdie to those close to him (including me unfortunately, thus signalling that we WERE friends) and made a beeline for the dirty shithole we knew to be the damn toilet.

Once there the silly geezer locked himself in a stall and then proceeded to hatch what he believed to be a dastardly plan. Firstly he had to evade all the classes that would be using the toilet as a changing room for P.E and secondly he needed to avoid the crowd that would be pouring in during recess which was around the corner. All this so he could wash his shit soaked underwear in the washbasin without being seen......

So like a ninja full of stealth but akin to a lemming on acid Tattoo sneaks in and out of the stall running to the basin and washing his granny briefs and his gunny sack pants clear of shit while evading P.E bound students who wonder what creature has died in the toilet but alas to no avail as the foul smelling substance has by now eaten into the very fibers. In the end legend has it that certain corrosive paint stripper had to be used....

But back to the story dear readers. For now Tattoo had realised that it would be a cold day in hell before he could actually clean out his abused clothes. So he sat in the stall formulating his next dastardsly plan and came up with.....NOTHING......c'mon lets face it, during those days he was no friggin' Einstein aight'.....

Anyways whilst all this thinking is going on it so happens recess comes along and with it a gaggle of students into the toilet. Among them Tattoo hears a familiar voice, that of a prefect known in here as S.Baba. Following i have attached their conversation.

Tattoo : S. Baba is that you?
S.Baba : Tattoo you silly cunt, where have you been ?
Tattoo : In the toilet all this while dude, kinda shat meself....
S.Baba : Man you are such a loser....you even left shit nuggets on the chair you bastard...
Tattoo : Oh my Lord God..! Ok i need some help man....
S.Baba : As long as its not wiping your ass, anything bro.....
Tattoo : Ok then go to the office and tell them to call me mom or the national guard to come
rescue me. Then come back and inform me what time any of them can come get me...
S.Baba : Dude no problem. Will come back with some updates.

Now unfortunately S.Baba had the memory span of a packet of spaggetti o's and as soon as he had stepped out of the bathroom the arse forgot that he had a task at hand. Now Tattoo did not know this and the poor sod sat there and waited for what was an eternity after recess had ended and finally it dawned upon him that S.Baba was not coming back. So like the stoic dimwit that he is so fondly remembered as he puts on his soiled bottoms and marches to the office and asks for permission to leave the school grounds to head back home.

Now the office people in charge will have nothing of the sort and need some sort of proof that he has shat himself to ridiculous proportions that will warrant them to letting this little fellow go back. So Tattoo turns around and the whiff from ground zero proceeds to melt off part of his nose and the view of it burns off part off his cornea as the officer screams in agony.

Minutes later Tattoo is on his way out.......

To be continued.......

The Shits (Disturbing Incident Pt.1)

Dear Subjects,

Time is on my hands today.... By this i mean i have no work to do so now you bastards get to hear a story about a disturbing event that happened a long time ago to my best friend Tattoo when he was in school.....You see my friend Tattoo really....and when i say really i mean REALLY enjoys a good shit.....he enjoys it to the point where he has shat himself silly in his pants on occasion....and this is one of those morbid and horrifying times......although to him it was and still is a time to cherish....

It was circa 1992 and my friend Tattoo was in form four in a school in Petaling Jaya. It's something like 8.30 in the morning and Biology class is going on. For the last half hour or so that doofus Tattoo has been letting some real nasty farts rip and angrily looking around at his classmates trying ever so hard to pinpoint the blame of the foul decaying stench on some of his less unobquitious and nasally abused brethen.

Alas fate was to play a wicked hand that day as during one of his more thick caramel laced ones he accidentally shits himself. Upon doing that the floodgates open and a torrent of nasty brown sauce begins to rush out through his spinchter and through his gunny sack pants onto the classroon chair. Now the sad thing is this teacher really hates his guts and so he sits there quietly till at some point he can't take it anymore and asks for permission to go out to the toilet. But in the process of doing so he gets up and the back portion of the class realise that his pants are soiled beyond belief !! And that there are shit nuggets lying on the chair.....

To be continued......

My Torment

Are you alone?.....Answer me, ARE YOU ALONE?

Good. We can never be too sure, these days. You know they are all around us...all around us I say. Their beady little eyes staring at you. Burning holes into you with their evil eyes. It’s those eyes...those haunting eyes....those eyes that will keep you awake at nights. Those unblinking, yellow beady eyes.

DAMN THEIR EYES.....Arghhhhh

I hate them...I hate them for what they put me through. Hideous, heinous things they made me do. Unspeakable horrors. Horrors hatched in hell and used by them for their sick perverted pleasures. Their deranged laughter and evil beady yellow eyes is all I heard and saw in the darkness. The darkness they spun around me like a cocoon. A cocoon of misery and despair.

But now I have escaped. Escaped I say....HAHAHAHAHA

And now I'll have my revenge. Oh! My sweet revenge. I will destroy you and your minions. All of you will die. Die! You fucking PARROTS. I hate every feather on your feathery body. I hate you with the fury of a thousand suns. You and Parrot-kind will feel my wrath.

You think you’re all that with your colorful feathers, your beak, yellow beady eyes and you’re flying. Oh! Yes your flying. So what if you can fly? Just because we mere mortals are damned to spend an eternity looking up while you fiends kiss the sky, does not make you gods.

Well all that will come to an end. You have made one mistake, you picked the wrong guy to torment. I, Sangalli Vethamani vow to punish and deal death's final blow to all you fucking Parrots of the world. Hear my cry, SANGALLI'S COMING FOR YOU FUCKING PARROTS.

DEATH TO ALL PARROTS

Jiwang dei...

The days are numbered

Today I was driving around in one of my recently acquired automobiles. This particular one is about as old as I am. I still feel that it has the potential to be a true classic icon but my comrades seem to think that it's a piece of junk. What do they fucking know, those turds. Constantly taking the piss because my car doesn't come with power steering. Power steering are for wankers, weaklinks who can't fuckin lift a needle without feeling pain. I should take the needle and prick their fuckin pussies. bastards. Your days are numbered. I have many a devious schemes planned while being in solitary confinement for more than half my tenure behind bars.

As I was saying, I was driving around, and pulled up at a petrol kiosk to buy some... power steering fluid. No, you dumb schmucks, why would i want power steering fluid. If you thought i did, i ought to kick you in your nuts. dimwits... anyway, whatever the reason i pulled up at the petrol kiosk is none of your business, but if you must know, it was to buy some top-up reload for my mobile phone. Ever since my blog was blacklisted and shut down, the damn authorities had my name blacklisted with the telcos and also with the banks. Now i'm forced to carry my cash by the stacks with me, wherever i go. Fucking cumbersome. Blacklist me?? bastards... your days are numbered too.

So as i was heading back to my car, some suthernai (dog's arse) is drooling over my car. At least he knows a classic when he sees one. I call him a suthernai because he's drooling like a dog, dripping his saliva inches away from my vehicle. On top of that he has the face of an asshole. Then as I'm about to get into my car, that son-of-a-gun Suthernai, proceeds to make hand signals as to say "No, don't get in". He then yells, "kejap bro, nak ambik gambar, nak ambik gambar!" and starts jumping up and down like a freakin jungle monkey. I think at one point, he did sniff his bum, and scratch his head, and lick his feet at the same time. This already pisses the fuck out of me, and just as i'm about to kick him in the groin, he says, "Nak Jue ke? Nak Jue... Jue la..." Now, this, to all you tossers who doesn't know what he means, he asking me if I want to sell it, but he breaks out into some thick Kelantanese accent, which in malay means Jual.

For fuck sake, I ain't selling you my ride, you fuck. "Fuck off", I say, to which he is completely and utterly clueless as to what i'm telling him. He replies, "Nak Jue ke, jue la..." and gave me his name card. Because I was taking anger management therapy classes, I kept my cool, and got into my car, and drove off, while running over his feet in the process. Accident la you fuck.

Later, i whipped out his car. It read Lan Pet Pet, Resident Artis. How fucking dumb can you be, to give me Sangalli Vethamani your card. The worst mistake in your life. I will haunt you and make your life a living hell. You will feel my presence, but you will not see me. I come like the thief in the night... your days are numbered.

Jiwang dei....

Day Four... Flying Fuck

Today while i was rummaging through my personal items i kept in a gunny sack stashed away in the retaining wall that was once Compton, i came across this ticket. It was from 10 years ago. The ISA and bons were tracking me down, because the shit had hit the ceiling with underground blog, i decided to lay low for a while and flee the country. With the help of my posse, who went around extorting money, I bought myself a first-class ticket to Bangkok. Come on, if I were to travel, I travel in fucking style.

But my flight was stopped short in it's track when the bons caught up with me and nabbed me the night before my arranged flight. FUCK! I later found out that a certain old lady in SS3 ratted on me, because my boys had extorted RM1.53 from her. It turned out to be her life savings. bitch...

I'm now on a mission to hunt her down, and steal her sarees and auction it off. That'll teach her.

Jiwang dei...

Day Four... Turning a new leaf

Dear friends, I have been getting alot of slack from people who have read my blog, saying I'm very negative in my out look on life in general. Actually I'm quite shocked. Not that I say what I say, but more to the fact that there are people out there in dear ole cyberspace that have actually graced my blog with their presence.

It’s quite shocking to see so many of you don’t seem to have a life of your own. What is wrong with you people? I know that my life seems incredible compared to yours, but don’t hate me for that. Some are blessed while others just wish theirs wasn’t in monochrome.

So I have decided to instill some self believe back in your monotonous lives and maybe someday soon you too can look back and say "Thank heaven for Sangalli, my saviour"

With any problem in life, the first step is getting over your denial. Your denial of the fact that I'm better than you. By saying to yourself, Sangalli is the man and I'll never reach his heights, you'll break those bonds that hold you down. With that you'll be free. Free to express yourself and let life flow through you, like a stream flowing over you and cleaning all the filth of the years that has imprisoned you. So I say my friend break that chain that binds you and follow me, your GOD.

Jiwang dei......

Day Three...

What shall I say bout yesterday? Lots! so if you dont like what I have to say bout yesterday tough luck.

Yesterday sucked...coz a aquintance of mine, who is afraid of everthing kept incessently calling me and bugging my life. This dude is so afraid of everything, his shadow makes him shit himself. Talking bout shiting oneself...I know this dude who regularly soils himself....I think he secrectly likes it.

Ok enough of yesterday....

Today it rained...what was that too much information? Fuck you

Jiwang dei...

Day Two...

Not worth talking bout it. Nothing interesting happened so FUCK OFF.

Jiwang Dei.....

Day One... Insurgence is nigh

Before I sign off for the day, the rough, tough, muffled day it was, oh wait... that was me getting in on with someone, to the tune of unchained melody.

As i was saying, before I sign off for the day, all you bloggers who have been posting crap about nothingness, your master is here. All you bloggers who think you know a whole lot about everything, your nemesis is here. My evolution is nearing completion, and I will hunt you muthafuckers down. Either you join the revolution or fall by the wayside. The choice is yours. Procrastinators can go fuck themselves.

I will visit you soon.

Jiwang Dei...

Day One... Interlude

Cinematographically speaking, this idea for my new movie stemmed from the new series that Discovery Real Time is showing, Bangla Bangers, for three main reasons.

1. No offense to the Banglas, the nice bunch of fellas they are, with their mediocre, unsatisfying jobs of being a cleaner or a janitor, but it reminded of the fat janitor that is Sanjaybaba. Did i mention he is a fat turd?

2. In Bangla Bangers, they are referring to the beat up old cars found in Dhaka, but in this context, bangers reminded me of the fact that Sanjaybaba is a fuckin prostitute, who goes around soliciting his ownself for sex. How fuckin low can you go. Well, apparently, he's gone lower. No offense to all you whores out there. No, actually, i don't fuckin care.

3. Because the new series is about cars, it was an ideal idea for my movie, Sanjay the big fat liar, because of the lies he spews of him owning plenty of fuckin automobiles, and goes aroung snapping photos of random cars and claiming it as his own. I should get a bangla to bang the living daylights outta him. Once again, i pity the bangla.

Jiwang dei...

Day One... Intermission Part One

As i was sleeping, came up with the brilliant idea of making a movie simultaneously to essentially kill two birds with one stone. The clapperboard for the movie is as attached below. Too bad the main star a fat turd called Sanjay does not know he gets shot by me at the end of the 2nd Act.

Jiwang Dei.......

Day One... Intermission

Just got back from lunch. Fucking awesome meal, now I'm gonna sleep during work hours. So fuck off and leave me alone.

Jiwang dei....

Day One... Part Three

Back when i was a little tamellan boy growing up in the Compton Area of Kelana Jaya, i (yes me, Sangalli V. ) actually got in trouble with the law. Those bon(what we labelled the cops back in the hood) made my life a living hell. Me and my posse the Chicago Bears were relentlessly hunted down and shot like wild dogs. Heck we made Operation Copperhead look like a walk in the Muthafuckin park........

Neways back then i ran an underground blog using my 14.4Kbp/s modem which was really slow. I used to post today and the blog would come out like two days later. It was called sparkling rantai and man it rocked the muthafuckin nation.

So by so i got hunted down and shut down under ISA law and my blog lost forever in the realms of Cyberspace. For your perusal i have atttached the newspaper clipping of my arrest ten years ago. Oh by the way was only released last month after ten years of incarceration.

Jiwang Dei......

Day One... Part Two

Who pages anymore nowadays?? People evolve, technology upgrades itself, time changes, yet it seems like it's my fuckin boss who is still stuck in the era where dinosaurs were still king, and the freakin caveman used to run away in fear when a terradactyl, whose staple diet were rambutans, starts homing in on them, because their nuts look like rambutans.

And don't get me started on the topic of evolution... let me just tell you this, evolution from a single cell organism eventually took 2 paths in the grand scheme of things. One path became what is known to us today as humans. The other path, went off the beaten track and got derailed. It stopped at a single cell which could not and does not have the capability to evolve beyond a single cell. I know a person like that. His name is Sanjay. Write in to me if you know people like that, and we can compare notes. Not that I care to compare notes with you, because I will be the one giving comments. So rather, write to me for advice on how to deal with people like them, and i shall reveal the steps and measures you can take to unchain yourself from the death clutches of people like that.

There goes my other boss, emailing me to ask for some damn advice. Till this day, i still ask myself, who died and made this fella boss? The nerve of my boss to constantly ask me for advice, but then again, that's what I'm put on this earth for. To administer advice.

Fuck it, I'm just going to go for lunch...

Jiwang dei...

Day One...

I got into work today and realised what a shity day it's gonna be. So what do I do? Ehmm, why don't I put my displeasure into words and add to my blog.

Should I start by saying how my life sucks and that my boss should be shot dead for staining the earth with his presence or should I be polite and just write bout niceties and how birds chirp and flowers blossom.

Fuck that shit. Who gives a shit bout how I feel today? Ain't gonna change a damn thing if you read this or not. Anyway since we're on that train of thought, why dont you people tell me what gets your juices flowing and what would you like to hear from me. At this point I must warn you I seem to have an opinion on everything, so if you don't mind me fucking up your perception on life, then just drop me a line and I'll endeavor to snip that line of yours and fuck things up.

Shit! The damn fool of a boss is paging me again. Seems I have to hold his hand for everything..Cretin. Anyway till another time.

Jiwang dei.....

In the beginning...

Dear fellow bloggers or random cretins who get their kicks from reading other peoples ramblings, read on.

Havent you ever wondered what posesses people to scour the wee web for hours on end to find that small glimmer of hope that life is worth living, well tough luck you aint gonna find that here, you pansy do-gooders.

This blog is just my way of helping those out there who need a sympathetic ear to pour their troubles on. I might not be a trained psychiatrist, but I can give advice to those looking for it (I charge by the hour). Note to you fellas reading blogs: Who do you think Wikipedia uses as its last line of reference when all else has failed? Answer: Thyself. So I safely can say I know my shit.

From time to time, I will visit your blog and chip in with my 10cents worth of comment. That's all for now. I need to rest my bones for life's problems and worries have taken it's toll on my weary body. Till i visit you.

Jiwang dei...