u need MEGA panadol

Oh porn, why doth thou beckon?

An example of porn

When I think about it I just don't get porn. Perhaps porn should just be seen and heard but not thought about in much depth. After all, porn movies rarely demand much, or if any, intellectual rigour or emotional depth. The plot is usually easy to follow that even our local politicians can understand them in one sitting, or may even have acted out some of them out themselves unknowingly, of course. And like the usual Hollywood summer blockbusters, we all know who is whom, whom does what to whom and how it ends. Yes, there are some variations in terms of where the limbs are placed, or whether one is standing, kneeling, on all fours or lying down but when you come down to it, there are just two main working components with a straightforward two stroke motion. Forward. Backward. Isn't it strange the amount of complexity people go through to seek for such an embrace in such a manner as pleasurable (generally anyway, Navel Gazing recognizes that there are occasional performances so dismal in quality that it would have been better for both participants to have not engaged in the act) as it is simple?

So we can understand the act itself and the reasons for doing so. (And if you don't please stop reading the rest of this article immediately. Read only what is in within these brackets. If you stay in here, you will be safe. Now, very slowly, press the reset button. Keep your eyes on the words in these brackets. Got it? Good.) Now that we've got rid of those fellas, as I was about to pose a question rhetorically, why do we enjoy porn, or in another way, watching other people copulating?

We are not engaged in the act with them. We do not know them. And they are not performing it live in front of us, it's recorded. In an immediate sense the performers don't care what we think. In most cases we will never meet them. It's not as if we haven't done it before, or done it in that fashion, or know how it feels. What is more they could make us feel inferior with their better bodies, better looks (okay, maybe not for most of the guys), better staying power, and are skilled at their craft to do some fonky positions like the verticle 69 and helicopter (novelty factor: 10 cool factor: 0). We are also less likely to perform the act in heels, with a bowtie around our neck, or crotchless underwear in a room filled with other people. The loudness of the moans would usually be less because we are embarassed if other people hear us having sex (what's so bad about hearing other people having a good time? Enjoy it like you would good news off the radio-ish, unless of course their dirty talk sounds up like some filthy DJ banter then turn the volume down. They are, after all, not there to talk). Our facial expressions would more likelier be less intense and pained looking than those on screen because we are not performing for people we would never meet and need to impress them with the intensity of our performance.

So what is it really? Why ah?

I mean aside from the fact that it's nice to watch every now and again in reasonable doses.

Proton is diversifying into car accessories.

Tuesday 31st March:

In an announcement made yesterday, Proton MD proudly announced that the national car manufacturer is diversifying into the huge car accessories market which is as yet untapped on a large scale by car manufacturers. The Proton MD confessed that a walk around Sunway one day had inspired him to suggest to the Proton management to take a plunge into this market.

"I was walking around Sunway one day and I was awestruck by how lively the auto aftermarket products scene is. There are tonnes of people modifying their cars with aftermarket products. The place is littered with turbos, superchargers, stickers and what have you. The people just like to personalise their cars, be it the engine, for more power or the body, for a distinctive look," enthused the Proton MD. "Of course, Proton is not going to manufacture turbo chargers, super chargers, exhaust pipes or aftermarket pistons, conrods and the likes, not as yet. We will start with body kits."

For a start, a new subsidiary company called Proton Body Kit (PRO-BOD) has been established. "We are starting with some nice body kits for upmarket cars like BMW and Mercedez. That is because the owners of these cars would have the means to purchase these nice upmarket kits."

"We believe PRO-BOD will take the aftermarket scene by storm. This will also ensure Proton's ability to ride out the current economic meltdown,", said he.

The PRO-BOD's Brabust Body Kit Series. Only for serious enthusiasts.

The Economy: A Stimulating Idiot's Guide (Reloaded)

Art originally wrote this piece which is published at Articulations and Loyarburok. We thought of putting it up again here with the pictures he actually wanted to use. I volunteered to undertake this. In return he graciously permitted me to '[f]eel free to re-write whatever is deemed fit and necessary.' So with this license, I thought I'd try doing something I've been wanting to try out: an Art/Daef collab. So here is the piece, reloaded! We hopes you enjoying its.

So, we're supposed to be insulated from the global economic meltdown like a turgid penis fully sheathed in a skin tight condom with the little tip flopping about impotently at the end. Like, uh, awesome dood! When countries with bigger metaphorical penises like America, Japan and Germans suffering economic-tile dysfunction so badly they're almost diagnosed as koro, we on our mishapen penile peninsular named Malaysia smiled like a pimp after his hoes turned good tricks all night. When the biggest economies were foretelling complete and utter financial disaster, our guys are telling us that you, me, and yeah you too, that we would be insulated because of our "diversified economy and strong foundations". Not only that dood. We not just gonna maintain our hard on, but we gonna grow it even bigger and better... 4.5% of penile growth they proclaimed. Forgetting that even with the condom on, their balls are still exposed.

Despite trenchant criticism from sounder economists that our Finance Ministry is living in Najibland, we are also insulated because of the wide spread mental therapy our Home Ministry has implemented known as 'Repeat Therapy'. Unfortunately, it does not apply to sex. For the virginal, Repeat Therapy is a process where we convince ourselves of the truth of something by repeating it until we cannot think of anything else. We have one of its most profound practitioners of this mind techonology with our beloved outgoing Prime Minister, the inimitable Dato' Seri Abdullah Ahmad Badawi. Remember when he repeatedly said "I am in control" as he was being shoved out the party? Or when he repeatedly chanted "I will be fair" when he was at best only in skin colour? Or in those private moments when he whispers consolingly to himself repeatedly, 'I know what I'm doing.' before falling asleep soundly. Stuff like that. So let's do the Badawi and keep chanting (unless you are Muslim then you can only chant in Arabic, because then it doesn't count as chanting even though it really is) 'Malaysia's economy is insulated' as our nuts hang out for the global financial epidemic to wipe it clean off.

The truth is the world economy is bad, getting worse and going to hit us like one big bad fiery meteor from hell up the arse. Check this. The International Labour Organisation projects that 23 million people are going to lose their jobs in Asia this year! (see here) 1% of that is 230,000. Even if Malaysia "contributes" 0.5% of that, it would mean 115,000 Malaysians would lose their job! Insulated? Like a condom with the head ripped off more like. And what about the approximately 300,000 Malaysians crazy enough to work in Singapore? If even 10% of them are retrenched, that means 30,000 people without jobs.

Now factor in the reduction of working days due to production cut-off, cancellation of over-time, forced holidays, compulsory masturbation and the freeze on bonus and salary increass; has our government given any thought what the cumulative effect of all that would do to our economy?

Condom with the head ripped off? Na'ah. 4.5% GDP growth? Ha ha. More like A bulldog ran over and slashed at our nuts and ripped off our no longer turgid penises with one savage yank (no I don't mean American). Just recently, Citibank Group forecasted that our GDP will in fact shrink to -1.5% this year! Economic koro dood. The big R. The Mama Kahuna. But remember what Abdullah Ahmad Badawi and Nor Mohamad said earlier this year? No. We will not be in a recession. We will do fine. We will grow wings and halos will appear on our head as our genitals grow larger and wider. So repeat after them and it will be alright, okay?

The numbers are creeping out now. Malaysia's export has shrunk. In December 2008 alone, our export shrunk to 46 billion ringgit, which represents a 14.9% decline year on year (see here). Our biggest trading partner, America, is in a financial black hole. Japan, our traditional trading partner is seeing their consumer index dipping southward at an alarming rate. And we are insulated. Roight. The only guy who can probably pull insulated off in such an environment is David Copperfield but it's a shame he didn't do finance and economics.

So let's discuss economics in easy to understand terms. We want to use terms that can reach both the lowest and highest common denominator.

Lesson One: The Economy is Like a Set of Tits

God, aren't those awesome. Uh, where were we? Oh yeah. Tits. Big ones. We think we like 'em big. Because big means more and in this age of capitalism, bigger always means better. But the thing is, tits are generally not naturally big. Well, most of the time, that is. To make the economy big, we would have to do something to it like if we wanted to make a pair of tits firmer. We gotta stroke it, love it, want it. But they definitely ain't getting firmer or bigger just by staring hard at them. Plus, it's rude to stare you know.

No. That wouldn't do. We have to bring them to the operating table, cut them open and inject silicon to prop them up so that their nipples start pointing skyward and stitch 'em back discreet.ly Then they will be big. But no, we cannot just do that. That would be wrong.

We at Navel Gazing will always examine our subject matter thoroughly first. From this extensive examination, we can then determine what is wrong, or not quite right with them. Then after a shag or two, we go to the drawing board and plan. We would have to imagine then start sketching out modestly the kind of tits that we crave or may need. We cannot just make do with any old tits which are big. And we certainly cannot be mechanical about it by either injecting and injecting until the nipples start staring back at the owner or stimulate, stimulate and stimulate until the nipples get sore. If we did that, we'd have Frankenstein tits - monstrous, ugly and totally useless because they are so frightening!

Lesson Two: The Economy, Like Tits, Must be Proportionate

Just because big is good, don't think that the bigger they are, the better they will be. That is why China had to actually control its economics growth. They try to control growth around 8-10%. Sometimes it exceeds to 11%. But there must be control. Why? Because if we do not control the growth, the economy would grow too fast and a bubble effect would ensue. The bubble then, when it is too big, like tits, would burst! When it burst, it would ruin the hard on, dooood.

Lesson Three: Look at the Whole Body, Not Just the Tits

This is very important. Just imagine a 36FF on a 4'8" body with big hair. Whoa nelly!

So just like a woman's hawt body, the economy must be looked at as a whole. Not in selective spots here, there if not everywhere. We have micro economics and macro economics. Both must compliment each other the way our respective reproductive functions of both sexes do. Micro policies must be optimised to support the macro ones, like the various limbs and body work to support the breasts.

Which brings us to our next point. The economy does not exist in a vacuum. It is but one element in a bigger circle consisting of the society and the international community. And in that respect, politics plays an important role into the equation. Hence the economy cannot be detached from its direct impact on social and political life, or as we would happily argue sexual life! When planning the economy thoughts must be given to its societal impact.

What for instance are we going to do about the people who lose their jobs? What about retraining? What about creating small business opportunities? Or new job skills? And have we thought of the rising criminal activities which are induced by economics uncertainties or difficulties? What about health problems afflicting the people due to the economics downturn? What about health care system? Are we going to sacrifice educations in favour of a quick financial gain elsewhere? And what are we going to do when all these turmoils are over? Back to the same old game? Or new games? If it is the latter, do we need new rules and regulations? Are we going to diversify in something else? New and uncharted economics territory?

Lesson Four: Stimulations Must be Total

Don't just concentrate on the nipples! Just as a woman needs to be pleasured thoroughly and completely before she hits a multiple orgasm, those so called stimulus packages should be spread throughout the various economic sectors. They certainly should not be targetted solely at heavily politically connected industries like the construction industry. Just recently we heard that Road Builders (a subsidiary of IJM) was awarded the extensions of a road by 12 kilometers immediately after the concession of the toll road it operates expires! Hmmm... one expires and another one springs to life. Like an irrepresible hard on. Interesting.

Anyway, as we were saying, the stimulus plan must be wide ranging and holistic in nature. It mustn't be a stop gap measure. That's like being able to obtain a hard on easily but then suffering acutely from pre-mature ejaculation. Little point in it. Stimulation must have direction and work towards a goal, and must not be spaced too far apart. You just don't warm up the breasts only to go off for an hour and then come back for the main course. The economy just doesn't work like that. The fact that we have to announce a second stimulus just about 4 months after the first one shows that the first one was insufficient and not sufficiently thought out. We do not want a 3rd stimulus after this. Or a 4th one. There must be one holistic stimulus. Have we ever heard China launching a second stimulus in 4 months? Or Germany? Or wherever? Oh wait, maybe Chad... oh wait, they don't give a shit.

Our Government has a bad habit of introducing stop gap measures. While these may seem good at first, problems will continue to arise like a nasty ex-gf you just cannot get rid off. Any stimulus package must appreciate all angles. In particular, it must address all the issues raised in Lesson Three above. If not it is more useless than stimulus. And that is so not the very cool, dooood.

in line six...

 

a pedant's first paragraph

It was a dark and stormy night. It was so dark, the darkness of which you would have never seen. But of course, come to think about it, one could never see darkness. Lest it would not be dark. Or dark enough. And the darkness of this particular night is one of those. It was a type of darkness that one could not even see one's palm even if one holds it up an inch from one's eyes. Really dark. Pitch black dark. And there was nary a ray of light. None. Absolutely none. Not a single teeny weeny bit of light anywhere. The sky was black. No star. No moon. Hence the total darkness that night. I did a test. I closed my eyes and then I opened them. It was the same. The sight was absolutely totally the same as when my eyes were closed and when they were opened. I could not see anything. It was that dark. But to say the sight was the same would imply that there was a sight or an ability to see. The truth was there was no sight at all. I could not see anything. Because the night was so dark. Pitch black dark. And it was stormy too. Well, not really a storm. No. Not really. It was raining heavily. And the wind was blowing. Not the kind of wind which would be classified as a storm. Just strong wind. The kind which would make the tree branches sway left and right, up and down. Not the kind which would cause the lamp posts to fly or the trees to be uprooted though. It was a strong wind. But not a particularly strong wind as to qualify it to be a storm. Stormy it might be. But definitely not a storm. The rain was heavy, although it was not the kind of rain which would cause a flood in a minute or two. Heavy. But not overly heavy. It wasn't really a storm then. It was just a heavy rain with a not particularly strong wind. In other word, it was a mild storm. Very mild storm. Thunders could be heard of and on from afar. And although the thunders were not particularly loud, the darkness of the night made them sound more pronounced that they actually were. In actual fact, they were not even sufficient to jolt me out of my sleep, if I were asleep. That kind of thunder. Occasionally, there would be lightning bolts. Which would light up the nights as and when it happened. Well then, it wasn't really a dark and stormy night. It was a dark night, littered with lightning bolts - which would illuminate the night with lights - and stormy, in a not very stormy way, night.

I had to leave the place fast. I walked briskly. Well, I was almost running actually. Not a sprint but.....

Pontifications of the Penis

A cross section of the penis as we know it

I have a penis so it goes that I'm man. That adores women. And admires men. So it means I'll get on my knees for the former. Not the latter. And for the most part, I enjoy wielding a penis. My penis. Not yours. Or yours. You sick bastard. I admit it's not the 15 incher most guys in their first flush of porn would crave for, but you can bet it's not something to pick your teeth with after you eat. More like a slow melting ice cream that doesn't melt ... kind of thing. 

Actually, I don't like the word 'penis' because it sounds so clinical, so formal, so I need to wear gloves before I use it sorta thang. I like 'cock' better. It sounds dirtier. More sinister. Infinite possibilities abound. And it also rhymes with 'rock' and partially with 'fuck'. The downside is that it also rhymes with 'lock' but who cares. I'll never rhyme cock with lock because it sounds a little offensive, and I just fucking hate sounding like some offensive 15 inch cock wielder. 

Which I'm not because I don't have the number. 15 to be precise. These days I've learned to be happy with what I have. Which means not having 15. That's what experience does to you. Or rather growing old. Sometimes though I can't quite tell the difference where one ends and the other begins or if it even started in the first place. And experience has taught me why I won't be content with 15.

Firstly, the surgery would hurt a lot. What's more, if I grafted a 15 incher, I might just get a massive stroke or heart attack whenever I get a boner, so that's no fun. 'Hey watch it honey, you don't want to turn me on! I might just die on you. But you can ride me after if you're into that.' What's more, if I had a 15 incher, it'll in all probability be black in colour. Like the Macbook out now. If you want a bigger hard drive, we only got them in black honeh! I may be Asian and all but big cocks are black. That's that man. I've never seen a 15 in any other colour. And, and I'd have to be all rapper like, wear big gold chains, swap my teeth for gold ones and get tattooed up. I'm just not into all that. Plus my rapping sucks and I can't play basketball or run really fast. So even if I had 15, it might be wasted on me. 

And the vagina can only fit up to about 6 inches. So what's the point of having a 7 course meal when the diner only wants 3 satisfyingly full courses? Yes, a vagina can stretch much wider to accomodate a child but let's not dismiss comfort and extraordinary circumstances so readily shall we. That niner is not just excess... it's waste. And I abhor waste! Having a 15 incher swaying on a windy day will just conflict with my intense sense of moderation and reduce me to schizophrenia, if not multiple personalities for me and my cock. The latter may have psychological problems pretending to be a stout 8'er when he really is a hefty 15. There are somethings you just cannot fool yourself about. 

A 15'er will never get the whole thing unless he's into horses. Even then, watch out for the kicks, cowboy! And, and, he won't be able to wear shorts in public that end at the thighs cos then the package will be showing. He would have no career in speed sports be it swimming or running because of the drag his cock caused. He cannot be terribly clever because most of the blood is usually swirling around his tower of cock. He would have to take many breaks to read, especially erotic stories. Even if 15 can be considered a super power, he can never have a cool superhero name because all of them will sound funny. Nobody will want him in their superteam and he will end up doing straight to video porno and die a lonely death naked in the tub in some cheap motel after overdosing on a potent mixture of viagra, cialis and cocaine with cheap German porn repeating silently on the television.

I guess it's hard being a 15'er too. 

Poor chaps. 

Spare a kind thought for the 15s yah? They're human too. 

without and with...

Without flash...



And with...flash.

weekend observations...

I tell ya...my grandma had a tough time deciding which one to buy for my mom's 76th birthday.

A long long time ago, if your family has always been  some kinda "smith", ie, locksmith or  whateversmith, than your surname might be "Smith". Ditto if your family's  been dabbling in witchcraft, your surname might be "Witch". Of course, now, if your family is in the construction business.....

Humen Against the Mistreatment concerning Sex and Attention to their Penises (HAMSAP)

I'm sick and tired of a particular species of non-governmental organizations (NGO) in Malaysia. Now I'm not putting them down or the good work that they do - helping oppressed and abused women, providing them shelter, fighting for their rights and all that. Great stuff. I'm all for it. 

But I'm sick of them because firstly there are so many of them: All Woman's Action Organization (AWAM), Asian-Pacific Resources and Research Centre for Women (ARROW), Murni Women's Development Foundation of Kelantan (Yayasan MURNI), National Council of Women's Organizations (NCWO), Sabah Women's Action Society (SAWO), Sarawak Federation of Women's Institutes (SFWI), Sisters in Islam (SIS), Tenaganita, Women's Aid Organization (WAO) and Women's Crises Centre (WCC). And if those organizations from civil society are not sufficient to cover women's issues, don't you worry, because the government has the National Council of Women's Organizations, the National Advisory Council on the Inter-Action of Women in Development, the National Clearinghouse on Women in Development (NCWS) which is under the Prime Minister's Department, and the Secretariat for Women's Affairs (HAWA) which is also under the Prime Minister's Department. 

In all those women's organizations, there's only one male organization I found - Pink Triangle. But membership there is a little more exclusive. It's for boys that like boys and/or like dressing as girls. So while I have nothing against homosexuality (diversity is the spice of life!) and have gotten over my homophobia (this happened when I realized that gay dudes are better traveled, well read, more sophisticated, usually possess a high level of aesthetics and great conversationalists than the common heterosexual male whose idea of conversation is scratching their balls and taking about their football team), it's not my cup of tit because I like my tits in pairs and if there's any cupping to be done, it had better be me. 

What annoys me about these women's group organizations is their complete lack of creativity in coming up with cool abbreviations for their movements. I mean check it out - SAWO, SFWI, WCC - sheehs. You think they just picked out the first letters of their chosen organization name and used those. Oh wait. They did. See what I mean about lack of creativity? And when they actually make an effort to come up with something they use potent penile imagery. I mean, let's take ARROW for example. Come on. Is there even a sliver of pubic hair of vaginal imagery with that word? I think we are all agreed that a long hard shaft capped with a protruding and pointed head strongly suggests the penis. A turgid one at that. 

And this brings me to my second point - it's all about women, women, women. And if it's not about that then it's about women needing this, women needing that, that men have penises and are bad, smelly and don't shave and how if they were into pussy they would all be licking and fingering themselves without us. There's nothing about the celebration of maleness, manhood or about men's place and role in society vis-a-vis women. It's gotten to the point where men don't even know how to be men anymore because we are too busy trying to please women. 

And if all that is not bad enough, it's not as if women reward us with this greater sensitivity, greater care or thoughtfulness with regular and frequent kinky, creative, wild and noisy sex, daily deep throat blow jobs the moment we step into our castles (that's right boys, don't forget that or who's the king), and indulge our threesome fantasies. If you get even one of them, thank your lucky cock mate, cos most of us aren't getting any of those. Better yet record it on your phone and then email it around to make all of us jealous that you're banging that hottie from Cosmopoint in seven different ways using all the furniture in the room as well as the walls. Dream fucking on mate. Since women are so empowered these days, they will just pat you on the head for your concern and sensitivity and let you go watch football with your friends. If you are lucky she will watch while you wank yourself off and not start flipping a magazine before you cum in your record time of 30 seconds (you fucking loser!). 

After a thorough and vigorous anecdotal survey conducted by the staff of Navel Gazing which are legion, I have also gathered that less and less women are putting out for men. One night stands are at an all time low. Casual sex is almost unheard of. The mention of the word orgy conjures imagery of greek men having a go at one another. And there is a strange notion growing amongst the female population that sex is something only men enjoy. If you know any women who think this, they are part of a dangerous anti-sex cult and a police report should be lodged against them. So that's right men. More of us are being fucked or sucked less. If you are a man and don't know this, you are one lucky bastard (although heads up dude, it's not gonna last forever!). 

I am resolved to change this sad and terrible state of affairs (pun intended). I am therefore forming the Humen Against the Mistreatment concerning Sex and Attention to their Penises (HAMSAP) to stand up against the wanton deprivation of sex going on to the male species (and more specifically, the heterosexual male) going on in this country (pun not intended). The goal of HAMSAP is to foster, promote and encourage a society and an environment where those in either a monogamous or open relationship are able to enjoy frequent, regular and enjoyable sex. That's right, the word 'enjoyable' is significant because where the female partner reads a magazine, yawns or ask the male partner to hurry up while engaging in sexual intercourse does not amount to sex or fucking by HAMSAP guidelines. It is to foster acceptance and the practise of one night stands, orgies and kinky, wild and noisy sex for the more adventurous males of society. In time, HAMSAP hopes to train men in the art of pleasuring women i.e. eating pussy and enjoying it (that's right, it's not just tweaking the nipples like a radio and slamming the salami), so that women will be more obliging with requests for sex.

If you are male and reading this - you know what this is about. This is the penile clarion call that you have been waiting for all your sex deprived life. If you have been wondering what your life has been about and what direction it should be taking - thank your cock that you have found this posting, because you have found it. Join HAMSAP and make this world a better place. Let's get people fucking, sucking, licking and blogging all about it in their salacious and tawdry details. Because sharing is caring, just like fucking is sharing. So join us today at hamsap2008@gmail.com by telling us why you want to join HAMSAP and how long you have been deprived of sex. If we have enough members, we can even launch a political party and really start talking some cock. We will be the premier political party setting penile policy. 

Join us. 

Show them that you have the balls to stand up for your cock. 

Be a satisfied man. 

i Am BoRed...

Bala oh Bala,

kenaper engko camtu

camner aku tak camtu

aku ditimpa bala

bala oh bala

kenaper engko timper Bala

camner aku tak timpa Bala

Bala carik aku

Bala oh Bala

kenaper ko carik bala

bukan aku yang carik bala

bala yang ikut aku

bala oh bala

kenaper plak engko ikut Bala

camner aku tak ikut Bala

Bala suker panggil aku

Bala oh Bala

mengaper engko sker panggil bala

bukan aku sker panggil bala

orang panggil aku Bala

Orang oh orang

kenaper ko sker panggil Bala

camner kiter tak panggil Bala

itu dah memang namer dier

memang namer dier

memang namer dier...

missing the concept 1.0

Pre-Marital Sex

Note: All puns are intended unless notified otherwise. Definition: Navel Gazing categorizes 'sex' as the complete act of copulation until ejaculation (whether premature or mature) or orgasm (multiple or otherwise). So even if there's a whole lot of bed shaking but no crash, we won't count it (even though we'd be quite happy to watch or assist in the video recording). It also does not include foreplay no matter how heavy such as blow jobs, cunnilingus and any form of masturbation,(mutual or otherwise).

Every now and again some unsuspecting fool will ask me, 'Do you believe in pre-marital sex?' I always wonder about such people. Were they dropped on their head when they were young? I tell them, 'I don't just believe in it, I pray feverishly for it (optional: you stupid fool!)'.

Why they use the word 'believe' never ceases to baffle me. And what is there to 'believe' about pre-marital sex? It happens. It happens a lot. As it should. Except to people who want it most. ... And you know what, it's probably happening all over the world in all sorts of funky places as you are reading this - in some nearby secondary jungle, in some filthy public toilet, in the backseat of a car, on the bosses' office desk, at the 7th floor of an internal fire escape of a building. Not that I would know but those 3gp video clips that get passed around sure help verify this (so thank you all of you selfless exhibitionists in Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand, Singapore, and occasionally the Middle East)! And that's just counting the humans.

Don't forget animals always have pre-marital sex because there's nobody to marry those poor godless things. Bloody sinful heathens that they are! It's bad enough that as compared to humans they are naked most of the time or have their pubes cover their whole body and can have a riotous bout of sex in public without having to worry about on lookers or the local state religious departments raiding them. So that they get lots of pre-marital sex (granted its the only kind) is quite unfair and smells like the big H putting one over us humans. Sure we get opposable thumbs and big brains but hey, them animals get only pre-marital sex (which I understand from my assiduous analysis of voluminous literature both fiction and non-fiction about this category of sex is the best of its kind as opposed to virgin sex [homosexual or heterosexual], post-marital sex and lousy sex). That's probably the only reason why the big H made animals incomprehensible to us because they would be lording it all over us. I mean, that's why birds sing, hyenas laugh, horses' neigh and cows moo. They're gloating. If we had lots of that, we'd be doing a lot more singing, laughing, neighing and uh... mooing.

If I could enact legislation as easily as I could some really kinky sex fantasy and then pass it as easily as I answer Nature's routine call, you would by now be governed by the Compulsory Pre-Marital Sex Act 2008. This sexcellent Act would require all couples seeking to be married to have sex about 4 weeks before their marriage registration or nikah date with their intended lifelong partner. You could do it with someone else but complications are very likely to arise.

The first 2 weeks is to be spent having lots of sex in as many ways they can think of. The remaining 2 weeks is for the couple to decide whether to go through with their mutual lifelong commitment. If they are virgins that is. If they are not then the first 2 weeks is an encouraged option, unless of course they had already boned their brains out earlier in their courtship. Then only the first week is compulsory. Both are then to fill in a form setting out what they enjoyed, what they want more of, what other positions they want to try, which public places they would like to enact those fonky positions and any suggestions on equipment which will have to thereafter be affirmed before a Commissioner of Oaths. That's right - statutory declarations will be compulsory and must be submitted to the newly formed Ministry of Sexual Pleasure and Sexuality, which I fully expected to be appointed as both First and Second Minister.

The reason for this very pressing Act is to firstly establish sexual affinity between the couple. Trust me when I tell you that you don't want to marry this hot hoochie mama only to discover that she likes eating the carpet after she takes one look at your lamp (and lamp shade, where applicable). Or once your clothes are off, she realizes that she actually likes guys with lots of hair, especially on their back or ass (the disgusting bastards!). Or that she dislikes the smell of your body odour around your privies and needs to wear a gas mask to give you the Australian kiss. Or that he screams excitedly, 'I won! I won!' when he comes 2 minutes after he sticks in her. Loser.

Secondly, it is to ensure sexual compatibility in terms of performance and interests. Sure you may have the affinity but do you want to do the same things, the same positions? I mean, if you like only straightforward missionary sex (you uncreative bastard!) and she can only get going when you have a 12" spiked dildo up your ass, you got a problem. How big the problem is depends entirely on size of dildo and how roughly she manipulates it. Or perhaps she may have this awful habit of pulling out her magazine to read while you're 3 minutes in. It's not uncommon okay! The trouble with modern women is everything is a job and sex is their 5 minute power nap break. So you definitely wanna check this stuff out lest you be prepping for your bout of sexual dalliance by arranging the magazines on the bed. Loser.

Thirdly but not the least important, is to gauge your future partner's sexual desire not just for you but for sex as well. I know for a fact that there are a race of people walking the earth that have no interest in sex whatsoever. Though they may indulge in it 3 or 4 times in their life time, they could quite comfortably and calmly do without it. They sound human, they look human, hell they even eat what we do but don't be fooled my friend. Don't be fooled for a second.

They are fucking aliens. Only aliens don't like sex and well filmed and acted porn. And no they are probably not from Uranus (you immature bastard!). You don't want to tie the knot only to realize you've got to tie up your space shuttle as well. That first 2 weeks (or week depending on which is applicable to you) is therefore very important. These aliens may fool us for the 1st week but their alien inhibition cannot hold out that long provided inflict awesome bouts of fornication upon them. I know this because Pentagon knows this and have yet to declassify the documents on alien visitation but watch out for it in 2024.

Now that you know why you need me to be Prime Minister of Malaysia, please vote wisely in the next elections. I'll be in one of those independent parties with a strong sexual policy for government. So now go out there and register to vote and convert some of them aliens. They're taking over the world as we know it. And if you're an alien reading this, do us all a favour - go fuck yourself.

Barely Legal

Dungun, Terengganu
Malaysia
June 2008

WFKT behind Hock Lee's Supermarket @ Bukit Damansara

It was approximately about yesterday afternoon when Art Harun sent a synchronized message to me. Just to explain what this means to you uninitiated to Navel Gazing habits is this: Fools' minds seldom differ. When they do actually meet, they achieve a synchronicity. It is through this medium of synchronicity (I love using this word dammit! I feel so 80s; cue 'Wrapped around your Finger' by Police for me please) that telepathic messages can be sent. Okay enough science today! The message was clear and simple. We gonna eat them WFKTat a Chinese restaurant comprising many stalls located behind the Bukit Damansara famous Hock Lee Supermarket.

So after we parachuted down from a plane Art rented for the occasion and stored our parachuting gear, Art immediately secured us a classy spot near the fridge where they keep the drinks and kept cool food, where we could enjoy a quiet and immensely thought provoking conversation amidst the slamming of the fridge doors (because they uh, tend to go there. A lot.) and bellowing orders (you gotta love the efficiency of the Chinese - their orders always take the shortest route, from their throats, blasting right over your head, to the other fella's ears - none of your goddamned technology can beat that!). Art went to place a request from the high priest of WFKT who had a small magic wok of WFKT at the front right end of the shop, there he would stand stirring, toiling, and showering the many blessings upon the many WFKT that leaveth his magical and now holy wok. He also ordered some rojak to fill the time before our feast. A cool cincau proved some relief against the glowing warmth of the restaurant.

After several rousing bouts of conversation and hence working up an appetite, there he cameth, the high priest of WFKT, dishelved, completely driven and focused, his legs bolting with such robotlike precision, completely uninterested in any bit of conversation whatsoever except to tell you your change. Such dedication! Hail thou wok of the righteous! Thou homage to ambrosia that deserveth to be inducted into the Pantheon of Your True All Time Favourite Foods In the Whole Wide World. He came with those two well worn plastic blue and red plate for each of us with carried WKFT, with two equally aged red chopsticks. They look like they had met each other many times before and had nothing left to say to each other. And then gone he was, away to serve the cause of WFKT. My change accurately and transparently spread out on the table. His footsteps lost in the above described din. And there we were, left with the WFKT.

[WARNING: Art ordered us KT sans tau geh so if you do like it with tau geh please be warned! Eating it with tau geh would not taste in the same manner in which it is described below! We at Navel Gazing do not wish to be misleading in our food reviews although we are expected to be terribly creative.]

Now the first thing you would notice about the KT here is that it's the thin sort. Not the usual fatties. I quite like these sort because you get more covered area with the ingredients than if you had a thicker one. So this makes it more tasty. The second thing you notice is when you dig in is that you notice how light the WFKT is. That's because he doesn't use so much oil and so this allows room for the taste to slowly bloom towards its peak, which should be just about after half way through your WFKT. Very cunning chap he is! He has obviously experimented much to get the optimal amount of oil and blend of ingredients. Too much oil helps intensify the flavour but leaves you feeling muted after.

And the taste is quite distinct in its playful suggestions of a Marxian Communism that truly embraced a Wagnerian sort of Capitalism and saw it as a necessary step before achieving itself in the first few mouthfuls. And just as you are about to be let down, you feel yourself transported to the ancient China when people fought with fists in those Jackie Chan kung fu in ancient China movies, and seated at one of those restaurants that get trashed up because people like Jackie Chan's chracters, Drunken Master for example, trashes the place in some huge assed kung fu fight. Hopefully you would have finished your WFKT by then and gotten the hell out of there.

And as you gradually but surely hit that peak of its taste, you become Drunken Master. You are Master of Kung fooking Foo. You can do all those fonky moves like Jackie Chan. Like that one up there. But I'm talking taste here alright! Don't get any funny ideas. But it's no wonder we were here, this is wicked stuff. And after scoffling down the whole thing, you still felt kinda light enough to scoffle down one more. But I can understand why Art likes to come here, its economic use of oil does not impinge on the potency of the WFKT, and we all now know just how expensive the damn thing is as of today. Bastards!!

Anyway, towards the end I like to pick up the little loose bits and pieces because they tend to be pretty potent in taste and give it a boost. And finally, it's great to have that black jelly still on hand to round everything off. That way you can slake your thirst and wash everything else down!

Wooooo - ha!

of solid things...

Yes. Solid quietness. Quietness, like waste, comes in 2 forms. Solid and non-solid. Buy this tyre. And you will get quietness so solid you can bang your head on it. Go ahead.

Pure solid bull waste!

Chinese Drug Dealers

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

16 May 2008

Hey, you a Chinese Drug Dealer, mister?
You having problems with police?
Sign ups now!
Chinese Drug Dealers Association, Federal Territory and Selangor.
Membership having its privileges and bulky discounting.
Be a registered Chinese Drug Dealer.
Be a man.

Things people say which really, they shouldn't say, coz they mean absolutely nothing!

1. First on this list is the oft repeated/used phrase: I apologise if I had offended you; I apologise for all inconvenience caused; I apologise for being correct but you cannot appreciate that I am correct and you are offended because of your inability to do so and therefore you are a moron and so I apologise for your feeling so as I now know that you are a moron...or any phrase to that effect.

I have written about this here. And so I am not going to say more. Except for saying that politicians, stupid morons who think others are as moronic as themselves and lobotomised monkeys are so fond of this useless, insulting, meaningless and totally irritating phrase. To those who is fond of saying this phrase, let me say this. You are a fucking moron! If you are offended, well, I am sorry.

2. Second on this list is: I know that this is the very thing she/he would want me to do if she/he is alive; If she/he is alive, she/he would do this very thing which I am about to do now; She/he wouldn't have done it any differently had she/he been alive or phrases to this effect. You know la what I mean.

Hello? You are quite a piece of work aren't you? Fucking bullshit! He/she is as fucking dead as a door knob you idiot! How would you know that? Duh! Some months ago, the British icons of squeaky clean living and mother's boy, Prince Harry and Prince Williams, decided to have a big bash. They had no tangible reasons for wanting to do that. So they said they knew their mother, the dead Lady Diana, would want her to be remembered on the anniversary of her death, in a big party. Yeah rite....they knew. And how old were they when their mother got bumped off the airbags in that dreadful Mercedes (Mercedes is a stupid car, by the way!) driven by that drunk Brits? Yo! If you want to do something, just do it. Don't say you are doing it because some dead people had wanted you to do it. Idiots.

3. Third on the list: If I could turn back the clock , I would or wouldn't put his/her head in that crocodile's mouth at the zoo. Well, you get what I mean.

Awesome! This phrase is just awesome in its uselessness, meaninglessness and irritatingness. Unless I have been so out of tune with scientific reality, which I think I have not - and you are an idiot if you think so, and I am sorry if you are offended by that last remark, tho' I think you are a klumptz for feeling so - the last time I read my science book, I notice that yes, you can of course turn your clock backward (if it is an analogue clock, as opposed to a digital one, coz it is not possible to "turn" a digital clock back!), but it is not possible to go back in time. Yes, it is impossible for you to travel back in time. And that is notwithstanding you having turned your clock (analogue, mind you, not digital - please read the preceding sentence). No. You just can't go back in time. Losers, sentimentalist (please emphasise the "MENTAL" part when you read the word "sentiMENTAList"), hopeless nothing-better-to-do romantics, guilt ridden virgin killers and politicians who have just lost their seats love this utterly stupid phrase. What an arse! Really.

4. Fourth on this list is this utterly self-serving -confident-for-no-reason-other-than-to- declare-one's-arrogance phrase, namely, "If I were to relive my life, I wouldn't have changed it a bit" or "I would have done the same thing all over again" or "I would have lived my life in exactly the same way as I don't have any regret" bla bla bla ...

Yea rite! Bullshit of the year! Why, you mean you would relive your life all over again in exactly the same way? Including the time you were caught wanking at the back of the classroom by the very teacher who was the object of your self-relief? And you are saying you would have betted for Liverpool to win the Premier League in 2000/2001/2003/2004/2005/2006/2007 and 2008 all over again? And what about the night you puked on your girlfriend's boobs while trying to shag her after a party at Hard Rock? Or the time your mate kicked the beejeezus out of your teeth while you dived head on for a flying header during the football practice? You would relive them all over again? You are either an idiot or a liar. Or both.

By the way, it is impossible for you to relive your live. Please see number 3 above. Bullshit!

5. Fifth on the list is favoured by people who can't really understand English, simple minded people and stupid people, which come to think of it, are the same bunch of people. The phrase sounds like this: "I wouldn't do that if I were you..."

Well stupid, you are not me. And I am not you. I did what I did because I wasn't and will not be you. Also because you weren't and will not be me. Ever. If I were you - on the assumption that that is possible in the first place, which I think is not (but then again, you might know something which I don't know, because I am not you and you are not me) - than of course, I would not do that thing which I did, because you obviously would not do that thing which I did when I was myself and not you. Get it? But the phrase which you had just uttered, well, I wouldn't have uttered it if I were you, because it does not make any sense. You know why? Because if you were me, you would become me and you would act my way, because you had become me. So, if you had become me, then surely you would have done the very same thing which I had done, because you are now me and not yourself. The correct phrase is therefore, "I would have done the same thing you had done if I were you". Correct? Well, if you did not understand, it is truly understandable, because you are not me. If you were me, you would have understood it. That is because I am the one who had thought of it and written it. And since you are now me, you would have understood it. But of course, you are not me. Not before. Not now. So, perhaps that is why you did not and do not and will not understand it. Get it? Moron!

6. This is interesting. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world!"

Really? You mean you wouldn't have missed this funeral of your boss' father for the world? Even for Scarlet Johansen waiting for you in a tight leather pants with red bra and panties together with Jessica Alba who coincidentally is tagged along by Rhihanna? You wouldn't have missed it. Would you? Well, if I were you, I probably wouldn't too. But I tell you what. If you were me, you would have given it a miss. Even if it was my own funeral. You twerp!

7. This is favoured by UMNO leaders. "I would contest if the members want me to do so."

Well well well. Bro, if you had wanted to contest, say so la. I WANT TO CONTEST. Because I had always wanted to be the Prime Minister. I don't care what you all think. All I know is that I want to contest. Because I think I was born to contest this post. And I tell you what. I am good. I will be a really good leader. Well, at least, I would be a better leader than the current one. So, all you stupid people, this is your chance. Nominate me. Now. If I were you, I would do so now. And if you were me, you would also do so now.

This is the most faggotsy-flimsy-no-balls-non-committal phrase which is ever so popular among UMNO leaders come party election year. They are afraid to make a commitment, because they might not get enough nomination later. So, they utter this utterly useless no balls phrase. So that if they had enough nomination, they could say it's not me who want to contest against the incumbent, it's the people who want me to do so. And who am I to deny the people rite? If only they could just take the bull by its horn and go for it. Show some balls. Faggots!

ey, u wan dlive fuss one ah?

U wan dlive fuss one ah, u must eat fuss one wor becaw ah, u eat fuss one ah, u get more the power one, more better one your car, vely fuss one your car go. U cum behing the posheay ah, the bugger tekan n tekan n tekan u kno, but u oso tekan n tekan one, your go leally fuss one, den ah, u tekan sumore ah, your car jes fry pass the porshey wor, if u eat dis one la. Dis one ah, u leally must eat one. It not flom maraysia one, flom flance sumore. I hear ah, even det char kuey zey oso eat did one woh...det y ah he can mally that nice blooney...coz ar, he eat dis ah, he got more better power wor...rong rive flance...

The Great Malaysian Obtuseness - a pictorial study