Fake Accents Piss Me Off

This goes out to all Malaysians who go overseas to study/work. I don’t care where the hell you go to – you can go to Turkmenistan for all I care – but if you come back with an ACCENT, you should be taken to the vet and put to sleep like the rabid mongrel that you are.

I will renounce my worldly possessions and make a pilgrimage to the Himalayas and sit in meditation with monks till I grow a long white beard, and then finally after years and years, God will come before me and say “Behold, My child, with thy infinite penance, thou hath shook the heavens and silenced the worlds. Even with thy perfect devotion, thou hath earned Mine wisdom and love. Speak now what is that which thine heart yearns for?”

“Well, God. You know that son of a bitch who spent one year in US and came back speaking like Justin Timberlake? Please give him AIDS. In the ass.”

Oh god, I just can’t stand those motherfuckers. Just came back from London after a year and act as if they were born and bred there. They’ll go to a McDonalds in PJ and order a diet coke and then turn around and say “Oh, YOUR McDonalds doesn’t have diet cokes.” DUDE, YOU’RE FROM SUNGAI PETANI!

Let me settle this issue once and for all. There is NO WAY you can spend a few years overseas and come back speaking with a different accent. No way. I don’t care what you say.

I have lived for almost two years in Australia in the same house with an Aussie. I am the only non-Aussie in my course. In my last job, I had to speak with Aussies for eight hours non stop. HOW COME I STILL SOUND LIKE A MALAYSIAN?

Pussified Apologist: Oh, Rajjiv, you don’t understand. They only speak to white people over there, that’s why they come back with accents.
Me: Oh and all this while in Australia, I was using bloody African clicking language. I live, eat, study and work with them. Have any of you ever heard me calling you ‘mate’? Fuck…

Pussified Apologist: No la, actually you are different because you can always talk to your Malaysians friends over the phone, so that’s why you still sound the same.
Me: Dumb fuck, listen to me. All these posers go overseas WITH OTHER MALAYSIANS from cunting KDU and LIVE WITH THEM. Don’t give me that shit that they don’t. Even in the rare occasion that they don’t, don’t bloody tell me whichever country they went to doesn’t have phones. Bitch ass probably calls his mom everyday.

Pussified Apologist: (desperate) No…they…actually.. because..
Me: Someone please put this retard out of his misery.

I really, really hate these fake accent fucks. I hate them more than some of our local DJs who have American accents but still say shit like ‘The new Mummy movie is sucks.” You is sucks! It’s all put on, I tell you. Asking for a fucking Kleenex in the mamak – we say TISSUE, asshole, or have you forgotten that?

Do you know why I, although surrounded by whites every day, still speak like a Malaysian? It is because I am secure with who I am and do not need to go back to Malaysia reinforced with a shell of insecure bullshit. These are the same cumstains who spent two months overseas and say shit like ‘Oh Sydney is my real home.” No, last I heard your ass was from Kedah. Your home is in Kedah! Go back home, you paddy field Felda bitch!

Hell, long as I stay overseas, I’m still from the ghetto, fool. Wherever I go, I’m bringing a little bit of Klang. Shit, there’s gonna be a Klang scene in every major city. Tokyo-Klang, that’s the shit – our Klang machas starting our own 2-4 Yakuza Top and then getting fucked up on sake.

Let it be gospel – the day I come back to Malaysia with an accent, feel free to throw me to the wolves.

Stuck Up Malay Expat – Hey pal, I’ve been overseas for ages too and I don’t have an accent either. By the way, what is this ‘la’ thingy you guys keep saying at the end of each sentence?

Retarded Indian Nazi – Brother, I know you are trying to do a jokes, but sometimes we must be careful of the language. Why must you say paddy field Kedah b*tch? Paddy field is like our mother, it give us rice. It’s not nice to call mother ‘b*tch’. Please watch the language, da.

Faggy Christian Youth Chinese Guy – LOL, really funny, man. People should always be themselves, ya know. Sometimes when we come out of prayer meeting, right, some people who aren’t comfortable with their own selves laugh at us and call us gay. Yeah. Gay for Jesus, man. Gay for Jesus.

Important Update - WE Spit On Your Grave

Single minded and selfish as I am, I’ve decided to open up a little and share my blog with a few others. These guys are really cool in their own ways and I can’t wait for them to contribute some neat articles to the blog.

Here’s a little bit of an intro from each one of them. Hope you like their writings as much as you like mine. Thanks.

Stuck Up Malay Expat – Hey guys what’s up? I’m Stuck Up Malay Expat, and I’m a 30 year old Malaysian currently working as a graphics designer in Harrisburg, PA. By PA, of course I mean Pennsylvania, but then again I’m assuming everyone out there knows that. I’ve been in the States for about two years now, and I’ve already forgotten how to speak Malay, what ‘terima kasih’ means, and if Perak is a place or a type of Thai dish. My hobbies include pretending I’m white, pretending I’m white and, during the weekends, I sometimes, if not often, enjoy pretending I’m white.

Retarded Indian Fanatic – Hello, everyone, and Vanakam. Let me tell you a bit about myself. I am the classic stereotypical Indian fanatic – you know the sort which went through Tamil school in Sungai Petani and went on to become head of the Indian Society in UKM. I only know and love Indian people. I really, really hate Indians who are not exactly like me to the dot, and though I picture myself as a warrior for the Indian people, deep inside I am actually a very frustrated virgin who masturbates himself furiously to sleep every night.

Faggy Christian Youth Chinese Guy– Hey, gang! I’m so glad to be here. I’m always positive and uplifting and infuriatingly upbeat. I’m 22 and a VERY active member of the Christian Youth faction of my church in Subang. I look a bit like John Lennon with my long hair and glasses and especially with my guitar, which I use to play hillsongs with the CY band. I have this retarded notion that Jesus is ‘my friend’ and I’m the type of faggot who writes down ‘worship’ as a hobby. I’m always slyly encouraging my non-Christian friends to attend our Youth Rallies, which coincidentally have a lot in common with Nazi Youth Rallies – we both recruit confused teenagers and worship a funny looking guy who’ll shit all over you if you don’t believe in him enough.


So, dear readers, I really hope you’ll enjoy reading our new bloggers’ works, as you have mine.