OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE, NOT AGAIN YOU LAZY BASTARD.

That's right. I didn't update my blog for some time (5 months?). And this is another tired "I'm back" post. You're welcome.

To be honest, I felt nobody was reading this shit. I'd rather post stuff on Facebook, where I could see people actively comment. This blog seemed a bit... dull.

Of course, like before, people started asking me why the hell I haven't updated the blog. So... looks like people ARE reading it. Meh.

So since I don't really have anything to add right now, I'll just let you have a few random thoughts of mine. I say thoughts, they're mostly rants.

-If you thought Sai Baba devotees were fucked up, retarded, faggy freaks who should be slowly tortured to death, you really have not encountered Hare Rama Hare Krishna devotees.

-Why do Malays chat-laugh like this - 'Wakakakaka' or 'Ekekekeke' or 'Huhuhuhu'? And why do they sometimes end a typed sentence with 'Erk'?

-To the Indians: Stop giving me shit about Surya being a serious 'actor'. He's just as retarded as Vijay and is a total joke. I wish I could take back the 15 minutes I spent watching Kaaka Kaaka - it was pathetic and you know it.

-Till this day, I'm not sure how to drive to One Utama.

-I finally got drunk with a Kazakh dude. I asked him about Borat and R Lizer and all he had to say was 'It's bullshit, man!'. He also invited me to his house in Almaty. Sweet.


That's all, folks. Will post higher quality shit the next time.

Kadhal Dot Com

Sorry, it’s been in my mind for way too long. A movie I made up (which turned out to be real. Well, at least the title is).



MOVIE PREVIEW OF…

Kadhal Dot Com

Three simple words.

One Meaning.

Love….


Starring Abbas, Harini, Prakash Raj, Dilli Ganesh, Visu


‘Kadhal Dot Com’ is a story of two people who are brought together through the Internet. Brought together in Love. By Love. For Love.

Although they remain cyber-lovers online, they have no idea that their families are great rivals and will never accept their union. When will their parents realise that their love is not only Kadhal… it is Kadhal dot Com.

>>LOGIN
>>ACCESSING WWW.KADHAL.COM
>>ENTER PASSWORD
>>ENABLING HTML
>>ENABLING FTP
>>ENABLING… LOVE….


Abbas plays ‘Karthik’, an honest, jovial youth who likes to have fun and drink with his uglier, darker friends. He loves chatting in the cyber café, but when he chats you can hear him speak out the dialogue in his mind so that you don’t really have to read what he’s chatting when you’re watching the movie.

Harini plays ‘Swarna’, a decent college girl who follows her father’s every wish. She, too, loves to chat.

Prakash Raj plays ‘Swarna’s Dad’, an uncompromising bastard who will learn about true love at the end of the movie. Well, not at the very end, just close to the end.

Dilli Ganesh plays the same role he has been playing for 30 fucking years.

Visu plays ‘Wise Older Man Who Teaches People Life Lessons By Manipulating Them in Hilarious Yet Touching Ways’.

Guy-Who-Looks-Like-Younger-Version-of-Vadivelu plays one of the ‘Uglier Darker Friends’.

Pandian plays nobody because he’s dead.



Some Song Lyrics

Track 3 – Cyber Ponnu

Hey hey
Nee than yen Cyber Ponnu
Kadhal dot com…
Cyber Ponnu login pannunge…
Hey hey!


Track 6 – Chatting La la la

Chatting La la la…
Chatting La la la…
Oooh yeahhh… Kadhal….cyber…SMS….
Chatting La la la…
Chatting La la la…


Track 7 – Mannusuku Email

Oowa oowa!
Internet ulagam… cyber kavithai…
Yennaku Yahoo, unnaku Googazh
Britney Spear dancing teriyuma…
(Rap) Yeah yeah, Kadhal.com
Friendster, Orkut is all just Kadhal for me
Check it out, check it out.


Lyrics by Vairamuthu’s retarded brother.

To ALL JAPANESE GIRLS: Why You Should Date Me

I like Schoolgirls

Fuck each and every one of you guys out there who says he doesn’t like schoolgirls. Well, to clear things up, I don’t really like school girls per se – I like girls in school uniforms, so they could be of any age. Then again, I’m a registered sex offender.

So, yes, Japanese girls, with me you can be free to wear that little sailor uniform. And the short skirt. And the high socks. And the white panties. Ok, no panties.

I Think Giggling is Sexy

I want you to giggle at everything I say. Preferably with one hand coyly covering your petite mouth. “Hey you look so cute!” GIGGLE! “Hey I love your Hello Kitty bag!” GIGGLE! “Hey my uncle's daughter got raped so he killed himself out of shame!” GIGGLE!

I like Your Body

Japanese girls are not flat! They’re perfect. Ok, maybe a bit flat, but still perfect. Each time I say I like Japanese girls to an Indian girl, she says “Oh, they’re so flat”. Well, sorry, I’m just not into huge child-bearing hips or ‘big because they’re fat’ boobs.

PS – I would like to clarify that Indian girls are not all big hips and fat boobs - some have moustaches too.

I’m Into Whimpering During Sex

Japanese girls don’t moan in pleasure or scream out your name during sex – they just plain whimper. Sometimes with a finger in the mouth. I’m doing her, and she’s whimpering – in pleasure, apparently! That is just so tits. Anyone who’s watched Japanese porn knows this. Fuck off, don't stare at me, you all have.

I’ll Piss On Your Face

First of all, we shouldn’t make fun of other people’s customs. People do things differently in other cultures. We kiss during sex, Japanese people just piss on each other. Don’t laugh, this is serious shit. That reminds me – they sometimes crap on each other too. But that’s just gross. Sick Japanese bastards.

Hate Mail I Received Because of This Post:

Dear Rajjiv,

I am a successful Japanese woman from Tokyo. This is a highly distasteful post that is both degrading to women and the Japanese. Japanese women are not sick perverse nymphs ready to serve you sexually. This is typical stereotyping that can only be produced from a mind so steeped in pornography and cheap television shows. I hope you burn in hell.

Anonymous

My Reply:

Dear Anonymous:

YES ME RIKEY YOU RONG TIME TOO. I RESPECT ALL JAPANESE WOMEN. I WISH FOR YOU TO GIVE ME MANY MANY SEXY TIME PREASURE IN PENIS AREA. I WANT TO DO YOU FROM BEHIND. THANK YOU PREASE. SAYONARA PREASE.

Rajjiv

BOOK REVIEW SECTION: Chicken Soup for The AIDS Patient’s Soul

The ‘Chicken Soup For The Soul’ series has long been a leading source of inspiration for millions worldwide. I remember my first read years ago – finding the original book in my grand-aunt’s antique bookcase, where she carefully kept all her most treasured books.

I remember her smiling as she saw me holding the book. It was rare to see her smile then – the cancer had taken a huge toll on her. She said to me gently “This is one of my favourite books. And I want you to have it.”

I nodded, but I never read the book. Video games and television had captured my attention. The book lay under my bed, gathering dust.

Two weeks later, my grand-aunt passed away. I remember family members shifting the old antique bookcase into the storeroom to make room for the funeral. Those books were her only treasure. I felt my heart grow heavy because I knew they would never be read again by eager eyes full of wonder. Her eyes.

When I got home, I picked up the old book my aunt had given me and opened it. And I felt my eyes fill with tears. My grand-aunt had written a single word on the front page – ‘Hope’.

With a warm cup of hot chocolate by my side, I snuggled into my old armchair and began reading ‘Chicken Soup For The Soul’.

Fifteen minutes later, I was drowning in a pool of my own thick glutinous vomit and feverishly clawing at my eyes like a rabid mongoose screaming "The gayness! The gayness!"

Screw you, Grand-aunt. Seriously, screw you.




Anyway, here are some stories from the latest edition of ‘Chicken Soup For The Soul’ – ‘Chicken Soup For The AIDS Patient’s Soul’.

The STD Inspirers

Everyone in this world has a purpose. No matter how insignificant you think you are, you live to inspire someone else.

We, the victims of AIDS, live to remind people how fragile life can be. (hesitant pause) Well, maybe LIVE isn't the right word to use here...

AIDS is not a limitation to faith. These days, finding a person with good faith is like finding a needle in a haystack. (hesitant pause) Well, maybe NEEDLE isn't the right word to use here...

Still, we press on. We never give up. We would rather die than stop trying. (hesitant pause) Well, maybe DIE isn’t the right word to use here...

So, even if you're a needle-sharing homosexual drug addict who has unprotected sex with multiple partners, there is still hope. (hesitant pause) Well, maybe NEEDLE-SHARING HOMOSEXUAL DRU...never mind.



Life’s Beauty – A Poem

The lilies beckon to the lonely dove
Little fairy folk on buttercups
I hear the song of a nightingale in love
You have AIDS



That Little Bastard

Once upon a time, there was a very sick little boy. Now, although he had to lie in bed all day long, he always wanted to go out and play. He often saw the other children outside his window, playing and laughing and longed to be with them. So he decided to pray.

He prayed “Dear Jesus. Please make me better so that I can go outside and play with my friends.” And so he said this prayer every single night before bedtime.

And one night, the boy opened his eyes and saw a man standing before him. This man had kind eyes and a beard. And Jesus said to the boy ‘My child, come closer and you shall know my love’. And Jesus kissed the boy on the forehead, and the boy fell asleep, dreaming of playgrounds and ice creams and lollypops.

When Jesus returned to Heaven, he was stopped at the pearly gates by St. Peter because he had contracted AIDS from the little boy.

“That little bastard!” said Jesus.

The Gayest Movie Poster I’ve Ever Seen

I always thought that the gayest movie poster ever would either be a Tamil one or an Asian horror film/shitfest. But when I went to watch Star Trek (which was fucking brilliant by the way), I saw this:






Just take a moment to absorb the image. And then slit your throat open with a rusty knife licked by an AIDS patient, because that’s better than living with this absolute atrocity in your mind for even two seconds.

Oh and one more thing.

THE NAME OF THE MOVIE IS SYURGA CINTA. THEY NAMED THE MOVIE SYURGA FUCKING CINTA.

Who’s the guy who came up with this bullshit? Who was the one in the production meeting who got up and said “I know! Let’s call this abortion of a movie ‘Syurga Cinta’. Who was that guy and why isn’t he horribly tortured to death yet?

Just look at the poster. Everything about it is just WRONG. The girl has this “I’m a dumb bitch” confused expression on her face like every worker in MPH who goes “Hah??” if you ask for a book that isn’t Harry Potter. The guy looks like your girlfriend’s male friend who follows her shopping when you’re not around and gives his unwanted opinions on your relationship. I already know he’s the type who doesn’t wear sunglasses, but yet has a pair perpetually perched on his head all the time. And the kid-


Ok, the kid is something else.

Take a look at the kid’s face. It’s that whole inane cutesiness that gets to me. His expression! He’s an annoying little bastard, isn’t he? He’s like a little midget who creeps into your room at night to kill you. Little midget bastard wearing a scouts uniform… oh god, who the fuck is designing all this?? Who is doing this shit??

I’ll tell y’all one thing la. This poster is so awful and clichéd, that it can already tell me the entire plot.

I will now write down the entire plot of this movie without knowing a single thing beforehand, and I guarantee you a 99% accuracy rate, or your money back.



The Plot of Syurga Cinta

-The Girl is the Kid’s teacher.

-The Guy is the Kid’s older brother/relative/neighbour.

-The Girl is looking for Mr Right. The Guy is always dating the wrong girl.

-The Kid decides to pair them up through many hilarious (gay) and cute (gay) ways, such as pretending to be sick in school so that the Guy has to come over and run into the Girl, or by sending text messages to both parties claiming to be the other.

-The Kid also has to make sure the rival love interest does not interfere in the relationship, e.g. stopping a slutty chick from going out with the Guy to a club, or putting laxatives into a suave male teacher’s coffee so he can’t ask out the Girl.

-There must be a breaking point where the Kid is forced to admit what he did, and the couple will be pissed off with the little bastard, but not for long because they realise that his little midget heart was in the right place.

-The Guy and the Girl soon realise they really love each other and the movie ends with a wedding, where the Kid sings/dances to a closing song number while we all try to wake up from a pool of our own vomit.



But just to make things interesting, if I had my say, this is how the movie would go:

-The Kid tells the Guy about his hot teacher. The Guy decides to seduce her.

-The Guy and the Girl go out for a while. He screws the shit out of her for a week and then dumps her sorry ass.

-The Girl goes back to school very upset and annoyed. She starts picking on the Kid for no reason, humiliating him in front of all the students. The Kid begins to hate school and life in general.

-The Guy uploads some 3gp sex clips online, to the Girl’s horror.

-The Girl hits the Kid one day in class, and is suspended with non-pay leave.

-The Kid finds out some time later that he is diagnosed with AIDS.


NEXT WEEK!!! LAMEST CHINESE MOVIE TITLE EVER!

You Are Retarded If You Listen To This…

Classic Songs Remixed Into Techno.


Because that’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Oh, everyone loved Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On”, so now lets remix it with a 1000dB pounding bass drum-line, synth special effects and someone shouting ‘who let the dogs out?’ every 5 seconds.

Ok, I don’t really mind these ‘techno-tards’(copyright) blasting their mind-numbing trance garbage all day long – it’s only a matter of time until they OD on their Ecstasy pills anyway. But why remix Bryan Adams? And Lionel fucking Richie? I don’t get it.

The car hi-fi system nuts are usually the major offenders. These are the type of people whose cars sound like they have throbbing erections amplified, because of the bullshit being played inside. Also, on another note, these people are also the sort who fix up their cars so that the engine still runs for a couple of minutes, even after they’ve turned off the ignition and walked out, looking incredibly smug, as if to say “Yeap, that’s right. The engine is still running, but it’s ok – that’s how I set it.” Fuck you.

Only if you have ZERO musical taste, would you listen to Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’ and think ‘Hmmm. Since I’m a bloody musical genius, with my Fruityloops and laptop, let’s see how else I can bastardize someone else’s work.’

Ok, fine. You want to add your retarded trance drums to otherwise slow songs. However musically sacrilegious that is, I understand your point, just like I understand genocide and child abuse. But why the hell is there some Euro-trash guy, who I imagine is topless and sweaty, shouting something random after every sentence in the song?

Celine Dion: Every night… in my dreams..

Euro Trash Piece of Shit: EVERYBODY DANCE! EVERYBODY MOVE! IBIZA! IBIZA!

Celine Dion: I see you.. I feel you…

Euro Trash Piece of Shit: I AM THE SOUL OF THE EAGLE! FLYING OVER IBIZA! RHYTHM!

Celine Dion: That is how I know you…

Euro Trash Piece of Shit: RHYTHM OVER IBIZA! EVERYBODY DANCING NOW!

Celine Dion (suddenly repeating the same phrase again and again like a fucking spastic): Go on! Go on! Go on! Go on! GoGoGoGoGoGoGoGo OnOnOnOnOnOn!

Ibiza always sounded like a cool place, but now I hate it from the bottom of my heart. And the best part is how the DJs look – despite the huge sound, they’re all just a bunch of skinny, balding white guys wearing black rimmed spectacles.

On a final note, don’t think only white Euro trash and Chinese fengtao kids pull off this shit – I’m sad to say Punjabis are also to blame. Stop remixing every popular song with bhangra. It doesn’t work and never did. I don’t wanna hear Snoop Dogg being given the bhangra treatment. You guys have a great culture, and your women are hot (when young), but let’s all face the ugly truth – bhangra is one of the worst forms of music every conceived, and the dance is even worse.


So, stop listening to classic songs remixed into techno… because that means you’re totally gay. And retarded.

Motivational Section - How To Inspire People

You don’t need to sit through a Tony Robbins seminar to learn to inspire people. Through simple words and phrases, I can teach how to sound like your average stick-up-his-ass spiritual guru.


Repeat the Same Phrase Twice

By doing this, you drive your point deeper into the subject’s head. For example, if the subject is going to the liquor store, this is how your conversation might go:

Pathma: Bye, I’m off to the liquor store.

You: Hey, Pathma?

Pathma: What?

You: You can do it. You can do it.


Remember to take a slight pause between the two phrases. And for the second time, try to sound more smug, and maybe even nod in approval.



Pull off a ‘Steve Perry’

Instead of encouragement, this time you provide hope. Again, remember to sound like an asshole.

Pathma: Bye, I’m off to the liquor store.

You: Hey, Pathma?

Pathma: What?

You: Don’t stop believing.



Show a Very Sudden ‘Thumbs Up’

Please be sure that when you show your thumbs up, you do it really suddenly and proudly, like as if you were building momentum to jam your thumb up someone’s ass. Sorry, that was the only example I could think of.


Pathma: Bye, I’m off to the liquor store.

You: Hey, Pathma?

Pathma: What?

You: (shows a ‘thumbs up’ sign) Yeahh!


FOR ADVANCED INSPIRERS – Repeat The Same Phrase Twice, Pull off a Steve Perry and Show a Very Sudden ‘Thumbs Up’

Pathma: Bye, I’m off to the liquor store.

You: Hey, Pathma?

Pathma: What?

You: Don’t stop believing. Don’t stop believing. (shows a ‘thumbs up’ sign) Yeahh!

Pathma: Alright! Jesus…

Directions Guy Must Die!!

Today’s fucktard of the week is Directions Guy – the guy who can’t stop talking about directions to anywhere in the world.

Everyone knows someone like this. He’s the guy who knows the roads like I know Japanese porn – and trust me, I know my Japanese porn. I am now at a point of my life where I am perfectly comfortable watching a giggling Japanese girl piss on a guy wearing a bear costume. The giggling is the part I don’t get. Guy shits on her face and she’s still giggling like a schoolgirl. Just… giggling! Can’t stop giggling!

Ok, moving on. Instead of being helpful, Directions Guy pisses people off. You see, this guy also falls under the category of ‘People Who Have Nothing Interesting To Talk About But Yet Must Never Stop Talking’. Honourable mentions in this category also include ‘Guy Who Can’t Stop Talking About Handphones’ and ‘Guy Who Loves Telling You The Entire Plot of A Movie You Already Saw’.

Here are some examples of how a conversation with Directions Guy might go.

Me: Ok, I’m going back now.

Directions Guy: Where do you live?

Me: PJ.

Directions Guy: Oh, oh, which way you take? The Federal exit after the Sunway toll? Or the NKV exit before Subang?

Me: Errr.. the Federal one.

Directions Guy: Oooh, ok ok. That one if you go further, you’ll see a Sperm Bank. And then on the left you’ll see a wheelchair dealership right.

Me: Is that a question or…

Directions Guy (now has a throbbing erection): I know, I know where you’re going. If you go straight means, you’ll come to Jalan Nutsack. On the right is a Ballsack Restaurant I think.

Me: I really don’t…

Directions Guy: The NKV exit is better ‘cos less jam. That one you go straight and turn right means you’ll reach Brickfields. And on your left is the police station…

Me: ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I ADMIT IT!! I like little boys, ok?? There, I said it!


Even worse, is when two Directions Guy meet each other. God help you if you’re in the middle of that conversation. But sometimes the odds can play to your favour too – Directions Guys are very haughty about their ‘knowledge’ and get extremely indignant when another Directions Guy contradicts them.

Me: How do I get to Midvalley from here?

Directions Guy #1: Oh, easy. I’ll give you the quickest way. You take the first exit after the PJ toll and then you head down past the ballroom…

Directions Guy #2: (suddenly joining conversation) No, that’s not it.

Directions Guy #1(indignant): What do you mean that’s not it?

Directions Guy #2: Fastest way is AFTER the PJ toll past the cable car rides, past the dance academy and then turn right.

Directions Guy #1: You crazy?? That one leads to the something or another la, past the whatsitcalled! And on your left you can see the carnival.

Directions Guy #2: Bastard! That road leads straight to the whorehouse past the woodcutter’s hut near the ass bank!

Directions Guy #1: I’ll kill you!



If you’re a Directions Guy, please only share your amazing knowledge of roads and highways when you’re asked to. You can still be saved.

"I Spit On Your Grave" REVIEWED!!

I am so happy, I just feel like strangling a starving Ethiopian child!

This blog is being spoken about in the media. That’s right, you heard me. My blog, my little deformed, AIDS-stricken, paraplegic baby is hot on the press, as it were. I had no idea people even published reviews on blogs, but apparently they do.

This is the shit because now I get to be famous and I get to pick up any chick I want and have any type of sex I want. And all you hot slutty Malay girls out there – I only watch Japanese porn and I am as horny as balls.

(Horny as balls. A degree in professional writing and that’s the best simile I come up with. Thank you, Bear Beer!)

You know why my blog is all the rage? Probably because, unlike 90% of bloggers out there, my posts aren’t like this:

Today i tried to be different, but couldn’t. I tried to call her but she wouldn’t pick up. I tried to speak to him but he wouldn’t listen. I tried to take a dump but nothing came out. How long will this last? Who am I to question anything? Nobody understands me. Possibly because I am a fat emo fag.

Or like this:

Look at me. I have nothing interesting to talk about, so I’ve taken a picture of my PHONE and am going to review it. GPS device - ok. Camera - not bad. Games - so so. MP3 - good. Me – rich lifeless nerd.

Or even like this:

Hi everyone, I’m a loaded kid living in Damansara who likes anime, gadgets and going to artsy-fartsy clubs. So that means I am TOTALLY UNIQUE. There is NOBODY out there like me. And there definitely aren’t a MILLION blogs which are IDENTICAL to mine. I also play in an ‘experimental/brit pop/indie’ band.

Fuck everyone who has a blog like the above. I am now your god. Read my blog well and know why I deserve to get such stellar reviews from the most established publications of our time.

Cue drumroll and so forth. Here are the reviews:

“…explicitly offensive and degrading in every level. (The Author) should be put down like the rabid mongrel that he is.”

-Crack Whore Magazine

“The child pornography of the blogging world.”

-Bahai Anime Review

“(I Spit On Your Grave) is a literary abortion purged out of a jackal’s infested loins, covered in a glutinous placenta of foul language, trailed by a writhing umbilical cord of distastefulness.”

-Ballsack Daily

“Reading this blog is like watching Baby Geniuses 2 while listening to Coldplay – an ordeal I wouldn’t wish upon a child-killer”

-The Gay Hindu Times

Sigh. I am so proud. Tears trickling down the old cheeks.

Stuck Up Malay Expat – I agree with you, man. I really can’t stand those type of Damansara rich kids. Ok bye, I’m going to No Black Tie after watching ‘Ah! My Goddess’ on my Blackberry.

Retarded Indian Nazi – You want the best blog of all time? www.ragedindian.com This my kaigeh. He top man.

Faggy Christian Youth Chinese Guy – My blog is about how cool is to worship and play in a church band! (Jesus, give him AIDS – Rajjiv)

The Most Tired Joke Ever

You all know what I'm talking about. Please, please tell this joke again to me for the thousandth time so that I can pray to Cthulhu for you to get balls cancer.


Stuck Up Malay Expat - Am unable to relate because have not been to Malaysia in 2 weeks.

Retarded Indian Nazi - I tell you funny joke. One day Samyvellu helikopter going to fall and only got 2 parachute.. (Rajjiv - oh for fuck's sake...)

Faggy Christian Youth Chinese Guy - You know what's a joke? Rajjiv missing our annual Christian Youth Rally. Hello??? Where were you??

Mat Salleh’s Guide to Malaysia

My dear Mat Salleh tourist. You made a wonderful choice to visit our beautiful nation. Please tell your girlfriend to not go braless in Jalan Masjid India.

I am under the assumption that you must have procured some sort of guide to the country through the medium of a fashionable, chic, in-flight magazine splattered with images of Eurasian models. This guide, which I, forgive me, once again assume might bear a title similar to “KL’s Secrets – the Best Places for Malaysian Food” or “The Cultural Experience in KL”, presumably penned by a local who spent half his life overseas.

It’s all bullshit, don’t believe a word of it, and so forth. I will provide you with the PROPER guide to Malaysia, don’t you know, and give you the true cultural experience.

Food.

I suppose the main thing you’d want to check out in the country is the food. Now, those ridiculous guides in those fancy magazines won’t tell you shit about where to eat. They’re ripping you off. They’d tell you something like ‘…best laksa I’ve ever tasted was in Pak Su’s Bistro (which has a wonderful traditional Malay ambience!) at Bukit Bintang, which only cost me RM25.’

Absolute tripe, of course. I don’t know why these articles are almost always written by some prude who ‘prefers TGI Friday’s grilled cheeseburger to Ramly Burger Spesial’. They’ll always recommend you to some fancy Bali-beach restaurant with a pathetically Malaysian name, which serves ‘authentic Malaysian flavours’, all catered to milk the cash out of you, my dear Mat Salleh. How do I know this? Simply because no proper Malaysian restaurant needs to describe nasi lemak as ‘fragrant coconut rice served with anchovies, nuts and spicy chilli paste’. Spicy chilli paste! Oh and it’ll cost you too.

Every self respecting Malaysian knows that the best places to eat are the ones preferably without a name, and with the worst hygiene. For example, if you want the best laksa, you should go to ‘the Chinese shop next to Aaron Video Centre and Karuppiah Shop’ in Klang.

You might have also read about mamaks. And you might have also been suggested to try out the bullshit corporate ‘mamaks’ in Subang or PJ, where they dare to even have a (shudder!) menu. The best mamaks have to always comply with the three no’s: no roof, no uniform and no name. And god help you if a mamak serves western food. Or ice blended drinks.

And I don’t know why none of these crap guides rarely, if never, mention pasar malams. Oh wait, I do know – because the writers don’t know shit about them. Oh, I’m sure they don’t have pasar malams ‘back in the States’, do they? Pissing me off…

Shopping

It’s always Suria KLCC, isn’t it? Everything has to be only in Suria KLCC. Oh, best choices in authentic Malay sarongs – Ripoff Boutique, located in Suria KLCC. What the hell happened to Sogo or Campbell Plaza or Sungei Wang? Oh don’t call me cheap – you know you can find some of the best shit there. Pirated CDs, metal t-shirts, fake handphone covers. Nothing says ‘let’s go shopping, sweetheart’ like a day in Campbell Plaza.

I’m from Klang, so I’d recommend you to shop right in the heart of darkness – Shaw Centrepoint located in the middle of Klang town. Shaw Centrepoint is not only Malaysian shopping in a nutshell, it’s also a quaint cultural experience with all manner of transvestites, junkies, skinheads, bohsias and illegal immigrants. Just smell the marijuana in the air.

Culture

Oh, oh, I want to experience authentic Malaysian culture so I have to go to some interpretive dance show held in Bangsar which ‘protrays the identity of the modern Malaysian’, choreographed by a skinny balding white guy named Shankar who smells of camphor and buys clothes only in East India Company.

Malaysian culture can only be experienced by, well, experiencing it. Your ass going to Muzium Negara doesn’t make you an expert in Malaysian culture. You wanna see ‘History of the Malaccan Sultanate’ for what? Your ignorant ass thought Malaysia had no TV.

I’d suggest that any Mat Salleh who wants a true experience, contact me. I’ll pick you up, take you to the Brickfields illegal liquor store, stack up some shit and then I’ll show you your damn culture.

First we’d down a few drinks in the car itself la. And then, take a drive to the local bapok hangout. Now that’s an exhibition for your cultured ass. I’ll introduce you to Disco Rani – she has skin as smooth as her shaved nuts.

And then we’ll head to the padang and that’s our port. After getting shitfaced, we’re off to the local mamak for nasi lemak ayam (fragrant coconut rice and all that sort of thing, but with chicken). I bet no magazine guide told you about all this.

Do’s and Don’ts

Like the magazine guides, I too must have a segment where the Mat Salleh, in a humorous fashion, gets to know what to do and not to do in Malaysia.

I’m sure you’ve already read the usual boring garbage like ‘always make sure your taxi driver has the meter on’, etc. So here’s a few pointers you won’t find anywhere else.

STOP WEARING SUCH SHORT SHORTS. I’m sure you don’t do this in your own country. Why are you dressed like George Michael in that video? This isn’t 1985 anymore. I know it’s supposed to be a hot country but if you’re a woman and have thighs like a rugby player, or a man whose pubic hair seems to trail down to his thighs, please stop grossing us out.

NEVER ATTEMPT TO EAT WITH YOUR HANDS. Just….don’t. Just don’t la. You will never be able to do it. Eat that roti canai with a knife and fork if you have to.

BE AWARE THAT YOU CAN EASILY PICK UP LOCAL CHICKS. Go to any club, wait for a bit, and you’ll get some. Also be aware that they might be the older type chicks like at Waikiki or Old School, but still ok what. I can’t be sure, but last time, the Indian chicks in Bangsar used to go for white fuckers, but I’ve been away for too long, so don’t keep your hopes too high.

WIN OVER LOCALS BY SPEAKING THE LOCAL TONGUE. Just learn to say ‘terima kasih’ or something, and some people will act as if you’re bloody Moses saying the ten commandments. A little patronizing goes a long way.

So, my Mat Salleh friend, I hope you have profited significantly more from my humble teachings rather than some snooty magazine guide. Also be aware that if you’re white, no matter of the world you’re from, you will only be known as ‘European’ in Malaysia. If you’re black (and now that I think of it, I should have mentioned this much earlier), you will be ignored by all Malaysians and even feared.

Cheers.

Stuck Up Malay Expat – You made me think of nasi lemak and rendang and all the best Raya food, man. HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME REMEMBER I’M MALAYSIAN?! Ps – best koay teow is in Hard Rock Café.

Retarded Indian Fanatic – I know why you never mention Batu Caves. Because you think you Australia now, you very high class. Hello… don’t forget you are also Indian. Yah, yah, he can write about people who go overseas and act like white people but he himself… Careful, bro. I also got degree ok. I also can talk.

Faggy Christian Youth Chinese Guy – Hey don’t forget the Orang Asli Settlements. Once our church went there for a charity trip. We gave them clothes and water and canned foods and also told them that if they keep worshipping their pagan animistic gods and do not embrace the good lord Jesus Christ, they’re going to burn in hell. Now I have Orang Asli friends named Matthew, Jonah and Mary.