Hospital - The Brothel for Perverts

playing on my iPod:
You Gave Me a Promise - Fireflight

It has been raining for days, even the floor that my bare feet is stepping on is cold and almost freezing. I saw the weather forecast on the fucking news earlier today; it says that the rain would continue to piss down on the east coast of Peninsular Malaysia till this coming Saturday. I fucking hope they are right because this cold and gloomy weather is giving me mood poisoning and also it has interrupted my new found daily ritual of hanging at the beach alone from night till the crack of dawn. It is like a reflection time for me, to watch the waves break as it hits the shore and see people of so many fucking shape and size congregate at one place and sharing one fucking thing in common - to do something which amounts to nothing.

But that isn't the case for me today; it is 2:59 AM and I am sitting in a twenty-four hour KFC outlet, feasting on what I once called my favorite thing on this planet. But everything changes when all you feel is apathy. I just can't recall what is it that makes me feel happy or at least content anymore. The cabbage in the fucking coleslaw is bitter; the mash potato taste like the dirt hasn't been cleansed from it; the bun stinks of bad butter; the fucking chicken seem to smell and taste like it was re-fried with used cooking oil. WTF! Why was I ever addicted to this shit? Even Pepsi tasted flat like sugary water poured into a paper cup fill with ice cubes; as a matter of fact I think I can taste the paper cup more than the Pepsi. This shit that they are serving here is totally grade A bullshit and I should have option for the Kid's meals, at least when I throw the food away, I still get a Patrick Star's wrist watch, now I just have to shove my whole fucking snack plate combo aside.

So here I am on a cold and rainy night, sitting in a place which once served the things I love but now loath, with an old school leather note pad and a pen I am trying to recount the stories during my aimless road trip around nowhere. On an occasion, in one of the cheap inn that I was bunking for the night, I meet this interesting person call Henry in the common room. Henry was a retired male nurse who used to work in one of the government owned hospital. I don't mean to be disrespectful but people who work in hospitals are really big mouth bitches who just couldn't keep interesting shit to themselves. They will be mouthing off each and every single scandal there is to tell. Like what fucking happen when I was in high school, the whole fucking town found out about the procedure that my classmate's rich mother had to go through in the hospital because a condom slip from the dick that she was fucking and ended up inside of her, the sad part is the condom didn't fell off her husband's dick but someone else that very likely seem to have a needle dick. It is nice to listen to all these scandalous gossips and have a good laugh about it but I cannot begin to imagine how it feels like to have people laugh at your expense on the count of the hospital worker's big mouth. What the fuck ever happened to patient's confidentiality?

So let's get back to Henry, he was a mean ass, bad motherfucking nurse who likes to work in the ER, not because he loves the blood and cries of agony; but he takes joy in laughing and mocking at the bruised and injured "Mat Rempits"(Malaysia's self proclaim stunt man and road racer who rides a very low CC motorbike but thinks it is a super bike or Harley Davidson). Most of this Mat Rempit found their way into Henry's office by way of illegal road racing or performing bikes stunts that was way over their brainless head. One of the sadistic things that Henry does to these morons is ripping and tearing their jeans to an un-wearable state, to get to the wound, so that he can clean it (even though he didn't have to do it). Sometimes, when the patient is to be given painkillers, he will take his fucking time and will only give it at the very last second. Henry believes that pain is the best fucking reminder to these morons that what they do is such a waste of their hopeless existence. Henry likes to believe that these fuckers are aware enough to know that there is nothing sadistic in his actions. Well, maybe to others but not to these lame fucks. But it was just Henry being at his most masochistic.

This isn't actually the main part of what Henry shared that night. It started when we were talking about how much it costs to get a hooker to warm up your bed these days. In his days, there was actually such a thing call a "2 dollar whore" because it really only cost you two dollar to fuck one. But now "2 dollar whore" is only used as a metaphor for cheap ass hookers. Back in the days, you don't even have to waste your fucking money on some hotel room; you can get it on behind some bushes or some dark back alley. Then he asked me was I aware that necrophilia is happening right here, right now, right beneath our nose in our fucking country? A country who uphold moral values so tightly that Hip-Hop MTV that is aired on TV which contains too much breast or booty shaking must be boxed out; a country who dares claim that Avril Lavigne is way too sexy for their youths; a fucking country who is willing to send a man to jail because he likes to shove his dick up someone's ass. All these but they are unaware that the corpses that are laying in the government owned hospital morgue are being fucked by perverts.

It all happens during the graveyard shift and the person to see is the person who has access to the corpses. For RM20 per corpse, fuckers are free to choose a corpse of their choice and cum in it as many times as they want for 2 hours. The best ones are those whose mortal coil has just ended because there is still some body warmth and the plumbing below is still moist and creamy. As sick and repulsive as it may be, you will be surprise with the numbers of motherfuckers or in this case corpse fuckers that is willing to pay RM20 for the ride. There was even once a really sick fuck who proclaimed that he was damn lucky to have fucked a body that has just died within an hour. She was young with azure hair, legs that go on forever, perky firm breast with pink cherry nipples and a bush that was nicely trimmed?If only he knew how the fuck she looks like, it would be every corpse fucker's wet dream to fuck such a corpse. You see the corpse that he fucked was faceless because it was ripped off in the car crash that killed her.

Before everyone who is reading this starts to get sick and throw up all over, let me switch to something less morbid but equally stimulating. Henry told me that if getting laid with corpse in the morgue isn't your fucking cup of tea. You can always try a comatose patient. Patient who has been in a coma for months or maybe years and are not expected to wake up anytime soon. But of course the price of this would absolutely be higher than a corpse cum galore. The general rules when engaging sex with a comatose patient is that fuckers are not allowed to punch, bruise, bite or chew off any part of the patient's body. The person in charge of taking care of the patient will be in a shit load of trouble if there are any bruising, teeth marks or love bites found by a family member of the patient. Other than that, everything is good to go and fuckers can cum in them as much as they like; comatose patient won't get pregnant. Usually the pipe down under will not be functioning and the vagina will get as dry as a bucket of sand, so fuckers are allowed to use Vaseline or KYY gel to help them get a smoother fuck.

It is indeed an eye opener for me; I have always thought that it would only happen in some uncivilized country or some country with junk culture like USA. But never in a million years have I imagine that such repugnant activities are going down in our own fucking turf. I am sorry if I scare you especially the ladies because by now you should feel insecure about being in a coma or being dead. And to think that after being dead all your problems are gone, necrophilia is new cancer for corpses.

It is fucking late now and I think it is time for me to call it a night. There are still many more stories of my road trip that I have yet to share; of witch doctors, sex offenders, peeping toms that I met and many more, but it would have to wait. The time is 4:25 AM and it is still fucking pouring out there and looks like I need to make a dash for my car.