Dear Boss (Ending)

Dear Boss,

Now let’s get back to our conversation, shall we? Before that, I really had to ask if you somehow managed to stumble upon my blog. That should explain why you wasted no time to send me out to Kampung Baru Changloon. Holy shit boss. Kampung Baru Changloon. Have I heard about Changloon before in my life? Sure, I did have a classmate named Chiang Loon a long time ago. He used to eat his boogers, but that’s beside the point. Apart from the fact that you sent me out to the middle of nowhere (again), I'm still fairly impressed by how the hell you could secure a project somewhere in between no mans land and hills with eyes. It's as abandoned as the spot in between your anus and testicles. Why in the world would anyone build anything there!?

Did you know I had plain fried noodles three times a day for almost the entire week? I swear my shit were starting to come out in strands by the end of it. But you were very successful in stopping me from blogging. Because nevermind computers, there wasn’t even sufficient electricity from the generator to let us keep our lights on long enough. The Bangladeshi perverts could’ve been masturbating to my face every night and I wouldn’t even know. Come to think of it, maybe that's why my eye was kinda stuck together that one morning.

But nevermind that. Let’s get back to topic. Now where was I, boss? Oh right.

Yes, boss. I, FUCKED in your office room. And by that I did not mean the street expression of fuck as in “fuck you bitch!” or “man, that shit is really fucked” or “why do you have to go and fuck it up”. Whereas, boss, I meant to say that I had sex in your room. With a girl. No, not with my hands as you think I often do (although I will not deny that). Rather it was with a cute girl that you fantasize about whenever you pleasure your missus. Speaking of which, I believe, is rare.

It wasn’t just your regular wham-bam-thankyou-m’am, boss. It was loads and loads of sex. Like the smell of jasmine on the first day of spring. Or the deep stench of a passing garbage truck. Overwhelming. In fact, if you stare hard at your desk, it almost feels like its about to blurt out “Holy shit there was a lot of sex going on here last night!” Such is the aura of the great after-sex. And all those loads and loads of sex compressed into a single night. And then further compressed into a single hour.

Ahh, how I recall the short passionate moment on your mahogany carved desk,

a little banging against your double-pane fully tinted glass,

a little rub-a-dub on that contemporary glass coffee table,

and a whole lot of no-no-oh-shit-yes on your prime Italian sofa.

Dear boss, I could not however, for the life of me, find the remote for the air-conditioning in your room. I paid for that with a hell load of sweating. The genius of where you hid it confounded me, although I can never understand how you must’ve predicted this moment and wanted to save on the air-conditioning electricity bill. You’re always efficiently economical like that. Like how you always returned all the scented napkins to the restaurants on our company dinners and then demand them for a discount.

Or how the rest of the office staff uses furniture that comes embedded with termites as our office pets, or tables and desks that look suspiciously like the ones they throw out from the primary school next door. Truth be told, you’re a genius in cost-saving. They should call you, Costco, Walmart, Econsave, or something.

Remember the one single time you promoted me over the 4 years I worked for you, you said to me “You know what, I think you’re doing a great job. You deserve a promotion and I’m going to give you one today”. It was the happiest day of my life.

It was one small step for a job title (executive to managerial), and one giant leap for salary increment. Remember boss? Eighty eight fucking ringgit.

In an instant I officially became the lowest paid manager in Malaysia. I wanted to call up my mom and scream to her “MOM I FINALLY MADE IT!!” but my phone had no more credits. Oh I’m sorry boss, I meant the beautiful hi-tech COMPANY phone that YOU proudly issued to me.

Now really, at least an increment was better than none. And I supposed the number eighty eight is your own special way of expressing your kind of humor. Way to go boss. If you had added 88 cents to make it RM88.88, I wouldve thought you're the funniest man on Earth.

But among all your greatness, your best display of cost-saving will definitely be the time when you promised me an office room in the main office. Boy, did I get one. Tune Hotel and Tony Fernandez himself would’ve been proud of you. I was only surprised that the activation button on the air-cond did not come with an ‘insert-coin’ slot.

You know boss, I’m always curious why my office room is laid with ceramic tiles, have huge pipes running overhead, comes with a ventilation fan on the grill and smells somewhat funky. Yes, no price for guessing what the room actually was. But hey, you said it wasn’t a toilet, boss. So I believe you. Like one douchebag used to say “It may look like it, sound like it, but is not it”.

But seriously boss, the thing that gave it away was probably the little sink pipe outlet on the north wall. I mean boss, what else could that be? Telegram vacuum tube? I don’t know boss. Perhaps it was just my wild imagination.

Just like whenever someone flushes on the toilet upstairs, (right above me, by the way), I sometimes hear these curious sounds of solid matter dropping into water. I’m not sure how to describe it, or if I even want to. What’s the word? Plonking? Like, plonk!...shhhh…. plonk! ‘stuffs’ swimming happily through the huge pipes above me. It does wonders for my lunchtime appetite.

Well that’s that in cost-saving. On the other end of the rainbow, I must say your investment talent is just as sharp. Your prime Italian sofa, for example, was indeed the best investment in your room. The ample bounce on the springs and the plush leather made me feel like I was getting BMW Auto-Bavaria servicing on my gigantic penis while being wrapped in soft and warm embrace of a milky cocoon with a whiff of Persian leather oil. That sentence doesn’t even make sense. That’s how good it is.

Your mahogany carved desk was a point worth noting as well. All the humping and pushing and never did it let out a squeak. But of course, my favorite will have to be your gigantic fish tank, boss. Your fishes now share a deep untold bond with me, after bearing witness to our holy union that night.

Boss, did you really spent RM500 on each of those little Nemos? I could not tell if their eyes always bulged like that or if they were just impressed with my penis. See, apart from Mc Donald’s fillet o’ fish, I have completely no knowledge on our aquatic friends. Now termites, that’s a different story.

Dear boss,

To express my deepest love and gratitude to you, I left a gift forever embedded into the sanctity of your throne room. When the moment of sexual enlightenment ‘came’ (pun intended), I gave it my all with a big thrust and some puckering up of the asshole and some sucking in of the butt-cheeks. Boy, if that was not an Olympic gold medal shot, I don’t know what is. Heck, my knees almost buckled.

Boss, the apple-shaped sweat stain on the sofa may have evaporated by morning, palm marks on the tinted glass windows may have dried up, but a little part of me will forever remain close to you. Trailing down the corner of one glass pane, like a river making way to the sea, was the one token of my memory to you. My own little army of barley soldiers, boss, that’s how much I love you. Sure, most of it must be dried up by now and soaked into the edge of the carpet, but boss, a pinch of love remains and you can always feel its aura. Love is everlasting afterall..

Yes boss. If you stare at it close enough, its there boss. Little spots of barley paradise staring back at you longingly. Like a virgin lover on the window pane of a mid September night.

So here is where I sign off boss, and I probably will not be writing you anymore for a long while. Well, that's what I hope. At least not until I collect enough wisdom from you again. If you really did stumble upon my blog, please, do not pop a vein. It is supposed to be therapeutic according to my hot therapist. Oh wait, I cannot afford a therapist. And please please do not send me to some site in between the testicles and anus again. Taking a shit in the jungle and fearing for snakes while your dick is hanging out is not very pleasant.

So remember boss, if you ever feel lonely, millions of dried up mini-mes are always there to accompany you. Just imagine them as persistent little tadpole buggers, roaming the strands of your carpet. Waiting for that one day when they can all do the butterfly strokes to the warm, wet and stinky gloryhole again. Crushed dreams and delusional ambitions, served just like life.

Take care now boss, and see you soon.

Yours truly,

The only monkey that stayed when you paid peanuts.

Dear Boss

Dear Boss,


How are you? I hope you had alot of fun on your trip to Manila last week. I'm sure there were alot of businesses that you still had to attend to there as you claimed. We all understand how most businesses are really conducted in golf courses, papaya karaokes and brothels. But before we start, I feel that there's a need to address to a disturbing issue of late.

You see, lately, I noticed that you had increased the consistency of the strange habit of scratching your crotch in public to an alarming rate. I would like to point out that stuffing your hand into your pocket to pretend like you are fishing for your keys does not really work anymore. Especially when you claw at the itch so ferociously that I began wondering if you'd tear your skin. Lets just hope for your wife's sake that the itch was not imported from Philippines.

Boss, while you were gone, we were all fine and dandy here in the office. I'm sure we dont need the vacation like you do because you're the only one who works hard in the company. 10 days annual leaves works just fine with me. In fact, I think it's really efficient, especially when public holidays fall on Saturdays and it does not get forwarded. Thus putting a grand total of 6 public holidays and 10 leave holidays in 365 days. Heck, I was just thinking, how the hell am I going to spend 16 days doing nothing? This is why you are a genius boss. Fuck the labor laws right? what do they know. You're so James Dean boss, and that is so cool.

Boss, I remember some time ago when Hari Raya was a week long holiday. Now that we only get one single day off, boy, do I realize how redundant and time-wasting those holidays were. I'm sure you'd agree. You said to me the other day "Hari Raya break so many days for what? The Malays are already so fucking lazy". Sure, lesser informed people will scream racism at this statement, but little do they know you also said the Chinese were all thieving and conniving assholes so they deserve no CNY break. And then some months later, you said the Indians were good-for-nothing dumb gangsters, and these gangsters deserve no Deepavali break.

Well you should remember that one. Because the Indian lorry driver right behind us heard what you said and I swear I heard a vein popped in his neck. I'm still relieved today that I never heard your neck being popped after that. Geez, what racist? I know you're no racist boss. You hate everyone just as well. So thank you, because we all know it has nothing to do with hating holidays but you're just trying to form discipline by maintaining consistency.

So, you asked me what this is all about boss? You see, my therapist said that it will truly do me good if I can confront my feelings about you and express it. Perhaps that way we can say our peace and move on with our lives. She said by doing so, both of us can make waking up in the morning a little easier.

My therapist is actually pretty hot, boss. My mom used to warn me never to listen to pretty girls, but this therapist sounded like she knew what she was talking about. Plus when I'm lying on her leather couch, I sometimes catch a good glimpse of her lace panties. I truly love surprises like that. So, about her idea of confrontation with you, let's just see how it goes, shall we boss?

Well, the truth is boss, I dont even have a therapist. I guess if I had one that's what she'll say. And I'd probably find a pretty one. And the truth is boss, I cannot even afford one. Much less the nice new sports car that you left the brochure of in my office. I had a tough time wondering why you left the brochure there. For the weirdest moment, I actually allowed my completely witless mind to imagine maybe you meant to get the car for me as a company car.

Silly me. You were absolutely right. When I asked you if you were getting me the car and you laughed so loud that I started worrying if you'd pop an artery. Then you said I must've knocked my head silly in the construction site, for saying such a dumb thing. You were right. I must've knocked my head at the site. But hey, thanks for the... brochure? I guess shoving it unto my face and reminding me how little money you're paying me is a great motivation? I'm sure that's your humble intention. And I'm sure you have your reasons. They say God works in mysterious ways. You're like God, boss.

Boss, I must admit that at first I felt offended and insulted when my staff revealed to me that you had been badmouthing me behind my back. And to MY staff, of all people. I mean, what kind of douchebag would do something like that? But later I realized, that you're too professional and too much of a man to be saying such negative things directly to me, and it would be too unbecoming of your big boss status. Direct confrontation is not always the best scenario. So I applaud you for your innovative solution. Spread it instead to the junior staffs.

I totally took heed of your modern business style, which is why I passed the box of Viagra that you asked me to buy for you to my executive. She then passed it to the admin clerk who later passed it on to your personal assistant who left it on your desk. It's too bad you never realized how professional the entire purchase was handled.

Boss, I must also thank you for the display of trust you placed on my talent. Back during the Tampin project when your son fucked it up so badly, you took him out so quickly and dragged me in, out of nowhere. I was never involved in the project hence I had no clue what was going on, but you insisted that I "BE A MAN!", and stick out my neck and reputation on the line. If you had added "DOO THE RIGHT TING!", you wouldve sounded like Russell Peters and I might have found that funny.

But boss, when shit started to surface and everyone (including you) crucified me to be the scapegoat, it wasnt funny at all. Did you know that the client screamed at me so passionately that his saliva practically mosturized my face? After that, my skin did have the healthy glow that Ms. DBLchin always talks about in her blog.

Boss, I now realize that you were genuinely confident that despite my complete lack of experience and non-existent involvement in that project, you felt that I could save the project and along with your son. I'm so sorry and always regretted that I failed you that time. That is why I never blamed the crucifix and did not say a thing when you stated that incident as the reason for me not having any bonus that year.

Boss, we have now come to the part which my pretty therapist calls "Constructive Confessions". It's a rip-off from hot THB's 今日的忏悔 . It's okay though, because my therapist is just as hot.

But the thing is, boss, I dont really have a therapist. It's because I can't really afford one. And I guess I've already told you that. Well, I'm just... hinting... nevermind.

Boss, you remember that cute sweet secretary from the office two blocks away that you always talk about? The one the entire office knew you probably fantasize about whenever you 'choke-your-monkey'? Yes, the one who came to invite you to their company's annual dinner but you chose to ridicule her job, her company and even her car instead. I did not understand, but perhaps you were really going for the whole bad-boy Johny Depp image thing by behaving like such a prick. You always did preach about 'nan ren bu huai, nu ren bu ai' afterall. But perhaps it wasn't the sexiest image for a fat balding 65 year old ugly chinaman.

Later on you kept demanding me to look her up, to hire her to work for you. Sure, I thought, I was just going to march right into her office, whip out my oversized penis, smack her on the face with it and command her to work for you.

I did tell you later that I could not get a hold of her, and you called me a complete idiot to have wasted what would've been a great staff. It is so completely my fault, boss, I couldn't agree more.

But you see, boss, I lied.

I did run into her after that, and I did get to know her better. We hit off pretty well actually, and I guess its because we did share something in common; our great love for you.

But that's not all, boss.

Well, you see, boss... around this time last year...


we fucked.








In your office room.

to be continued.

The Blogger That Always Quits

Dear Diary,

An entire month I disappeared from my blog. Some people were probably really happy as the blog rouses nothing but negative sentiments from their minds with a virgin's width. Some probably relieved that they no longer have to fear their spouses snipping their organs off as they sleep at night. Of course regardless of how much 'fuck-the-world' limpek try to portray, limpek still did hope that one or two readers did miss reading the blog. It seems kinda desperate, but its the truth. Kanneh... what to do... in the end, limpek also do crave for some acceptance afterall.

I guess I started to doubt what it is I'm doing here actually. What message it is that I'm trying to convey. Limpek's friends all think this is absolutely retarded, posting nonsense online for anonymous strangers to laugh at, or get shitpissed at. It's obvious limpek dont make a single cent for the blog. And it's not effortless too. Heck it takes ALOT of time for each entry, so limpek is truly impressed with those bloggers with full time jobs. Limpek also dont get to meet hot gers or cool friends because it has to remain anonymous.

Limpek thought to at least try make someone smile for a minute in their day, but it's really hard when smiling is the last thing you feel like doing yourself. If only its as easy as painting a big red smiley lips on my face for you. If it is, I'd gladly do it for you.

So what is it that I'm doing here? Why am I blogging in the first place? You ask limpek, limpek also chui tat lan. All I know is, limpek didnt really wanna just abandon this. It has afterall, help limpek connect to a few souls in this big ball of a mess... And perhaps, make life less lonely?


Sean asked me today "why you haven't been blogging? Just continue la wat the fuck. Make new friends."

Sean usually say things that doesnt make sense, but limpek felt that this time he was right. One great thing that limpek had truly enjoyed since starting the blog a short 6 months ago was getting to know the readers and other bloggers. As little as I truly know them, or they me, limpek felt they were all these colorful characters that hardly exist in my real life, or in my real friends. That's so fine by me. Real or not, life is afterall how much you believe your make-believe. Isn't it?

Well, before I stop making sense and you start thinking that I'm blogging while high, I shall stop here.

so... hello friends. I'm Goldfish Uncle, a friend. And I'm back. Like your genital wart that never goes away.


p/s: Entries will be more casual from now on and less frequent. I'll learn to have fun doing this, rather than getting tired after blogging. =)

Baja Hitam

Continuation from 'Superman' of last post.

This reminds limpek of a story...

A nong nong time ago, Grandpa had a Vespa that he used to round the plantation estate with. It was one of those old things that looked like it came straight from World War II. Most of the time, Vespa was dumped in the tooldshed, keeping itself from everybody's way.

But to a 16 year old punk like me (yes, limpek was once 16 too...), it was the One Piece, the ultimate treasure. Whenever I lay eyes on it, it felt like I could be like this...







That's right.


As cool as Rossi.



So without my dad's knowledge, but with Grandpa's permission (Grandpa was always nice to us), I secretly took Vespa to ride to school whenever I could.


School back then in these small kampungs are always so damn far away, so mom was quite happy that she doesn't have to drive me there anymore. Besides, small kampung roads are empty most of the time so it's safe as well.



Boy, did I felt like Rossi in those times...




All the cool boys rode bikes to school back then in the kampung, and limpek also felt so cool that my nipples could cut glass.



Everything to make it as a cool cat, limpek had it all going.

1. Motorbike. Check.
2. Square-top hair. Check.
3. Fake Clip-On Gold Earings. Check.
4. Unbutton School Shirt. Check.
5. Plastic Pasar Malam Sunglasses. Check.
6. Super Baggy Ugly Green Schoolpants Check.
7. Blowing Smoke Rings with Ciggies. Check.

Limpek felt like all the girls in the kampung will drench their panties if I ever pass by them in my Vespa.



But there was this one girl, that limpek had a major crush on. Pei Ting was her name...





She was the same age, from the neighboring girl school. Limpek always wanted to but never found the balls to talk to her. But limpek knew she always waited at the same bus-stop sharp at 6.45pm every evening.


So finally one day, limpek decided to try and impress her with the Vespa. Limpek imagine myself as Rossi (although nobody had even heard of Rossi then), and Pei Ting was the sexy flag-girl.






'Yes, it's gonna be perfectly cool like that!' that was all limpek could think of.

So limpek flew the Vespa in really close, and for the corner just ahead of the bus-stop limpek had a grand idea.


The great Racer Lean.



For a second there, limpek felt like the Great Spirit of Rossi possessed limpek's body.

limpek felt, like this...








But of course, like what musicians always sing about, "Life isn't always how you want it to be"








The musicians however, failed to mention how different it would be.






But like Yus from the tale before this, pride only comes AFTER a man's fall.






Hey, especially if your one favorite girl is looking, right? You would've done the same.

As I collect the poor Vespa up to stumble away, trying my best to walk straight, a silver lining did appear in the cloud.






Am I okay?





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我们不是東亞病夫!!!

Note to self:

• She talked to me!
• Actually limpek could not turn around because the fattened blueblack face streaming with tears and dirt is totally uncool... Un-Rossi.... beh sai...beh sai...
  
• The hardest butt caning I ever received from Dad that night.
• When I saw the way Grandpa looked at the broken Vespa that night, I made a vow never to break his heart like that ever again.

Cannot die so easy wan

Words have been scarce. Nevermind the fact that limpek wrote a full 2 page entry on monday, fell asleep and knocked the company laptop off the bed. Thus causing the ancient machine to freeze, and then restart, and the entire entry gone along with it. Would've been fine if limpek wrote it while online because of the autosave thing... but this ancient piece of shit doesnt have wireless (god knows who fucked it up). Well basically, words have been scarce... and the lost of one full entry make limpek sien kah na lan.

Limpek had always been better at taking a long time off to write one huge long piece essay rather than these short outbursts required by blogs. Hence limpek's not a good blogger. And even worse will be something like Twitter; constantly updating with a sentence or two about the most boh-liao stuff. Limpek never got the whole idea about Twitter. Despite the fact that a great blogger once said that Twitter sounds like a short lanjiao. Limpek also concur, Gojira is everything but 'ter'.



But then again everyone seems to like Twitter. Reading a random statement every other minute from someone is very syok meh? I mean, what is limpek gonna say on my twitter? Limpek now taking a shit in KLCC. 2 minutes later update, limpek push until face green, the head finally pop out liao. Then 2 minutes later, Damn, went back in. Then 2 minutes later, hailat, forgot to bring tissue. Kanineh like that also want to report ar?

But still people love Twitter. Seefatt Chang also told me blog cannot survive without Twitter. What the flying fuck. Maybe limpek will just get Twitter then... but call it Twi-teng. Twi-tua also can. Then will make sure to update whenever limpek go pangsai.



Limpek was sent outstation for a few days also, busy kena bite by mosquito so no time to blog. Kanineh la, proper laptop also dont have, you teach me how to blog! Block mosquito also beh hu beh hu. Come back only then boss ask to become cow become dog. Really kanasai. Since limpek decided not to resign (hard to find similar pay at this age and economy), the boss keep taruk limpek with work.

Maybe he trying to sabo limpek? Fuck it, limpek like cockroach wont die so easy wan.

Just like alot of bloggers want to sabo limpek's blog, want this blog to die. Limpek dont know why they must act hero and diss or make fun of the blog. For some reason, most are the very ugly bloggers. They say cannot accept limpek's blog.... puahcibai limpek also cannot accept their face wat. You dont see limpek go kaupeh kaubu online also? Knn gong cipet

But anyway limpek also fuck them no free la. If got time to layan limpek might as well go polish the boss's testicles before he give me more shit.

But got few bloggers very nice and generous to spend time on limpek's blog, and even mention it on theirs. Limpek always feel very humbled when it happens. Like jz, nana and most recently uber hot model blogger Chrispytine. Limpek want to say thank you for the generous promotion its so nice of you all. When other puahbai bloggers bashed limpek, which is quite expected, you all gave limpek a reading chance. If limpek see you all outside limpek will give you a hug and kiss and free massage okay? Satisfaction gerenti wan.

Chrispytine wrote this on her entry:

"My favourite blog out of all the nominees is this very ham sup but hilarious blog. You need abit of patience when you start off reading though. As its mostly in dialects and spelt accordingly. His hum sup illustrations are office and living room friendly. I was looking forward to seeing this man in person (will he look like a pervert or a dashing young man?), alas he still remains a mystery."

Limpek read liao also eyes wet wet. Wan lai limpek's C-grade blog also can be considered favorite. By uber hot ger somemore. Kamsia kamsia Chrispy. Limpek assure you limpek look like an old dashing perverted young man. This kind of combination very hard to explain. Only can show. Actually limpek also love to read her blog whenever got time. Her blog is good stuff and her bikini pics can nose bleed wan. Limpek think maybe we should do a joint blog. This will be our banner...





I know. Damn stim right? Limpek is actually so en-tao and Chrispy so chio ger. The banner so romantic macam the Yang Guo and Xiao Long Nu. Nola Chrispy dont angry first. Limpek didnt mean the chinagirl xiao long nu. Only the most positive associations! We will be San Diu Hap Lui!!! (diu not the fuck diu okay)

Housemate John shouting at the back: FUCKOFF DUDE!!! THAT IS YUTAKI!!! YOU DONT FUCKING LOOK ANYTHING LIKE THAT AT ALL!!!

Limpek must say this John is a very stupid person. Obviously this is limpek, not Yutaki. Yutaki look like this one...



See? notice got slight difference wan. Limpek like, maybe 5% more entao than yutaki.

Stupid John say "Fuck off!"

Okay fine... maybe that might not be limpek, but limpek also got about 95% look like that entao.

Stupid John say "If yutaki is a beautiful phoenix, you are like the shit from the phoenix's asshole".

knnccb. At least its still literally hot shit. T_T


On a last note, limpek finally cross the 10,000 hit in the counter liao. Its such a happy thing, limpek remember keep loading the website to touch the 10 total. Then keep asking limpek's useless porno-surfing friends to keep loading goldfishuncle to hit the 100 total. Then join the sg awards reach 1000 total. Finally six month later since birth, reloading and reloading until finger also pong pah already.... reach 10000 liao. WOOOO HOOOO!!!!

But apparently that is like, total of 1 day hit for the hot ger bloggers qiuqiu or xuesha.


Nehmind.... limpek still happy. Like cockroach, cannot die so easy wan.

A Hero Named Vijay

Limpek just wanted to share a funny conversation that limpek heard on air last saturday. It was Hitz FM, JJ and Ean were taking calls from public regarding the most embarrassing things caller's parents had exposed to the caller's friends. There were a bunch of boring lame stories like getting chased by turkey or whatever at the begining, and limpek almost wanted to switch channels already.

Then this guy, Vijay, called. Limpek will try to relate the whole conversation to you but bear in mind it was a couple of days ago so details might be slightly off.

According to JJ and Ean, Vijay was 40. So they were quite excited assuming that a guy that age must've had something good to tell. Limpek was only half paying attention that time because these DJs tend to go on and on about things sometimes.

This is a family-friendly radio station

Vijay : When I was a little boy, about 3-4 years old, my mother used to bathe me. Apparently I was very sensitive to temperature changes, and whenever it gets a little hotter or colder, my -BEEP- will be standing straight up.

JJ & Ean: HAHAHAH

Vijay: Ya, and my mother will tell all my friends about this...

JJ: HAHHAHAHA

Ean: Dude, your mom talks about that kinda stuff, that's just creepy dude!

Vijay: Ya, so whenever my -BEEP- kena cold or hot water, it will go straight up. And it will actually be standing for a very long time. Apparently It was very sensitve. That's what my mother will say.

JJ & Ean: WAAHAHAHAHA

Vijay: But nowadays... it's just not as sensitive as before. (*caught a slight note of sadness there)

JJ & Ean: WAHAHAHAHA (these buggers just kept laughing only)

Ean: Dude, dude! Did your mom tell everyone this story on your wedding day?

Vijay: Ya.... That is exactly why my wife decided to marry me that day


HAHAHAHA. Vijay is the hero of the day. Someone with that kind of wit and humor should be a DJ.

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Anyway, last week limpek posted about a very suey day and actually receive a few mails from readers and feedbacks from friends regarding their even more suey days. Limpek will try to get those posted up soon because they were really sibeh funny. Hearing about others suey-siaoness is always relieving for both sides so that life doesnt get too hard on you. Its all about learning to laugh at ourselves isnt it? And then laugh back at life.

But anyhow, limpek have had more lemons thrown my way these lately. And might end up have to resign from my job very soon. With no future plans mapped out yet. Limpek is quite in a fix and lost in thoughts. Can say limpek currently is like the guy didnt wear underwear and didnt pay attention after peeing so end up zipping up on his gugubird. And limpek is the gugubird. Foreskin halfway stuck in zipper already bleeding like hell. Want to pull zipper down will be like double cutting the skin. Continue pull up can also say goodbye to foreskin. In other words, jialat.

This has gotten to limpek quite heavily and blogging to keep the spirit of 'hua-hee-dio-hor' tends to get difficult at times like these. Someone smart once told limpek, "share your sunshine but hide your demons". So limpek will deal with the demon myself.


But anyway limpek just googled 'caught in zipper' and people actually wrote a medical article about it. Quite amazing.

From http://www.ncemi.org/cse/cse1113.htm

11.13 Zipper Caught on Penis or Chin

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Presentation

Usually a child has gotten dressed too quickly and not wearing underpants, accidentally pulled up penile skin into his zipper. The skin becomes entrapped and crushed between the teeth and the slide of the zipper, thereby painfully attaching the article of clothing to the body part involved (most often the penis or less often the area beneath the chin).

What to do:

• Paint the area with a small amount of povidone-iodine and infiltrate the skin with 1% lidocaine (plain). This will allow the comfortable manipulation of the zipper and the article of clothing.
• Cover the area with mineral oil. This lubricates the moving parts and often frees the skin without having to cut the zipper.
• If the mineral oil alone does not work, then cut the zipper away from the article of clothing to leave yourself with a less cumbersome problem.
• Cut the slide of the zipper in half with a pair of metal snips or an orthopedic pin cutter. The patient is less likely to be frightened if this procedure is kept hidden from his view. If you are unable to break the two halves of the zipper slide apart using a metal cutter, then take two heavy duty surgical towel clamps and place their tongs into the side grooves at both ends of the slide. then grip one clamp firmly in each hand and then twist your wrists in opposite directions. This often will pop the two halves of the zipper slide apart, releasing the entrapped skin.
• Pull the exposed zipper teeth apart, cleanse the crushed skin, and apply an ointment such as povidone-iodine.
• Tetanus prophylaxis should be administered as needed.

What not to do:

• Do not cut clothing if mineral oil releases the zipper.
• Do not destroy the entire article of clothing by cutting into it. You only need to cut the zipper away allowing repair of the clothing.
• Do not excise an area of skin or perform a circumcision; it onlv creates unnecessary morbidity for the patient.

Discussion

Newer plastic zippers have made this problem less common than in the past, but it still occurs, and it is a very grateful patient who is released from this entrapment.

References:

• Nolan JF, Stillwell TJ, Sands JP: Acute management of the zipper-entrapped penis. J Emerg Med 1990;8:305-307.
• Kanegaye JT, Schonfeld N: Penile zipper entrapment: a simple and less threatening approach using mineral oil. Pediatric Emergency Care 1993;9:90-91.

This has got to be one of the few biggest trauma limpek had during kindergarten. Baby Gojira that time kena zip up and blood was spilling everywhere. Limpek cry like shit thinking doctor will have to cut off Gojira liao. Then somemore limpek's mother that time dont know what to do, go and call our neighbors for help. And then call her sisters (limpek's aunts). Kaninah they all form one circle around limpek and discussed what to do while limpek in the middle bleeding and screaming and crying for Baby Gojira. Abit like Lord of The Rings, nabeh... Fellowship of the Zipped Penis.

End up limpek's favorite kiddy jeans was cut until small small pieces. Only two pieces of cloth and the zipper left. Kaninah as if butterfly wings grow on Baby Gojira. Then when they pull each cloth apart limpek remember screaming as though Baby Gojira will be gone forever.

Until today still can shiver when think about it.