If you can remember that ‘super fucked up guy‘ I blogged about some months back… Well, he’s ‘The Gimp’.

Allow me tell you a bit about ‘The Gimp’. Like I’ve briefly explained before, ‘The Gimp’ is a corpulent guy in his 20’s who lacked of something in his head. If stupidity is strength, this guy would be able to raise the Titanic up from the ocean with his sheer stupidity.

Yes, he’s that bad.

And he also lags in his response, that by the time he’s about to stammer out a single digit IQ rated opinion, my car would be already up for it’s next timing belt change. Speaking with him is akin to SMS-ing a cactus plant without a cellphone. It’s just so impossible to establish any kind of primitive contact with his comprehension department through that large gape of murky shitwater filled in between his turgid head and his microscopic brain.

I wasn’t sure if he’s actually retarded to be so tragic like this, but then… I don’t recall seeing him park his car on the disabled parking lot, so I assume that he must be somewhere above the marginal retard line. Or simply, he’s just the retard of all retards, for failing to recognize his privilege as a disabled person.

Being so spectacularly fucked up like that, he dresses just like a typical intellectually challenged clod. Again, like I’ve stated before, he’s usually sported wearing musty-smelling faded Polo T-shirt with double patch of sweat marks on his armpit, oddly matched with an unmatching khaki to work. It’s either that, or he’d be caught wearing an undersized company round neck (again, always with an unmatching khaki) embossing his man-tits to the public.

A veritable piece of walking disaster.

But he was all different today. I stumbled into him at the toilet this morning, and apparently, he did something to his image to look like a totally different person.

- he was with a pair of fluorescent blue jeans, a long deviation from his usual dull khaki days… worn high up way above the waistline.
- short and sloppy black metal T-shirt over his lopsided frame… untucked
- had his hair done for a change, from the William Hung comb-over to a disheveled golden blonde spiky punk; which kinda reminded me of those wiry pubic hairs growing out from a blonde pornstar’s beaver… only that it’s not actually that frizzled.

I don’t know what triggered that complete makeover, but I bet it must have had something to do with the opposite attraction thingy. Probably he got infatuated with the janitor or something, and felt compelled to upgrade himself into a stylistic freak and was gonna do a moonwalk crotch-grabbing act inside the toilet to impress the ammah.

Goddamn!

Well, quite contrary to what he probably believed, in my opinion, that freak transformation definitely did not enhance his physical outlook at all. It’s actually making it worse! What used to be a pretty acceptable looking dullard, has now turned into something with an appeal of a vaginal yeast infection. This is more like an addition to his trophies of handicaps that he possesses more than anything else.

Man, it’s really a wonder how these fucked up minds work.

‘The Gimp’ then exited the toilet with his newfound confidence, raking his blonde hair with his unwashed hand on the way out. I then said a prayer for the janitor…

Man i so fucking hate my sister that each time i see her face, i feel like barfing. Her existence is a big mistake.

Remember that loony cuckoo bird? Well, it’s at it again. Not too sure if it’s the same cuckoo bird but it’s definitely making hell lot of a commotion. This time, it hooted from midnight till the time I got myself ready for work…

I wasn’t sure what was it hooting about. Maybe it’s the mating season, where hollering was part of the ritual to attract the opposite sex (hey, if only that works on humans as well…). Or maybe that bird was playing as messenger of death, sending us a grim reminder about the impending threat of bird flu…

HOOT HOOT - translated as “You’re all gonna die of bird flu…muahahahah”

Silly jokes aside, the long hooting of that bird DID remind me of the recent unnerving development of the deadly avian flu. Flocks of pathogenic migratory birds… they’re flying everywhere to fuck everybody up with their disease laden body …. and us puny humans below them struggling to save our asses up. Goddamn.

But perhaps, that isn’t the real threat we should be afraid of. It’s something else. Just look what has been happening for the past few years. We kept seeing these new hybrid of super diseases spawning from animals - pigs, cows, civet cats… and now the birds. It’s a matter of time before household lizards have their own version of super diseases… no shit! The Mother Nature want us dead! in a way or another…

And all these, I believe, were stemmed from our very own ignorance towards the law of nature. I think this is karma balancing itself out on a large scale. These would be the price we pay for

- having sex with animals
- cutting up Mother Nature’s pubic hair (trees)
- eating things we aren’t supposed to eat
- tweaking the codes of life
- screwing up the ecosystem
- listening to Pussycat Dolls & Vengaboys

Our occupancy on this planet is fast approaching the end and we have to do something about it. We will be put through a test of time to battle against our very own existence… whether or not we will prevail, only time will tell.

But until that happens, I think we should all do our bit to allay our fears against these microscopic adversary of our’s. So, let’s all grab a slingshot and shoot a bird today. [it's a good means to vent our frustration over the recent fuel price hike, so... why not?]

Marilah kita berkempen untuk melastik burung hari ini…

May god bless you bird loving fuckers out there. Eat more oranges.

A friend messaged me on MSN today.

friend: dude, how was ur weekend?

me: it was ok i guess

friend: i was damn sien. my bf was too busy with the new car

me: you should have expected that. he’s a guy after all

friend: wats with cars and guys?

me: gadgets are more important than girlfriends and wives

friend: damns. well… he’s not paying any attention to me, then he can go marry the damn car. i told him that last night

me: it’s alright i guess, at least the car won’t nag him

friend: i told him i wanted to break up

me: he’d be one hell of a happy man

friend: cis bedebah!

me: you’re jealous of a car, you should get your brain checked

friend: darling, he spent the whole weekend polishing the car. no time for me. wouldn’t u be pissed too?

me: you know, if I were to be in your shoes? I’d bring him beer while he’s polishing his car… and if the need ever arises, I’d give him a spontaneous round of sex during his break too.

*****

She went all quiet after that. I think my witty advice might have cajoled her to reconcile with her boyfriend…

I think I’m a genius.