Colitis the Titan Bane

In my iPod: Love - Def Leppard
[download]
State of mind: ass fucked
Location: Home

When you wake up feeling like a senile old fart in the morning; every fucking inch of your corpse-like body is covered with searing torment; You can hardly scrape your lifeless ass off the bed; you fucking know that you are fucking-ly fucked up beyond fucking fuck ups. Once again I had to fucking learned it the hard way; feeling like an impenetrable colossus after I have taken all my Hepatitis shots from A to Z, I was fucking invincible as a fucking titan (which of course was nothing more than a state of mind). I thought I wanted to give my new and improved body immunity a trial run before I head to the land of diarrhea, so I headed to the dirtiest food stall and start to binge whatever filth they have to offer there.

Look at this high tech piece of fucking water dispenser. If you fucking order a glass of iced water, this is where they fucking get the water from… Fuck this crap; I cannot begin to imagine where they fucking keep the ice. You know, I cannot start to image how it is going to be like in India because all I know is that this place right here is consider super clean compared to the places in India.

If you are wondering how am I right now? I must say I am pretty fine, except for all the puking and purging. I have been commuting every 10 minutes from my bed to the toilet for the last 12 hours. So right now, I am official crowned the King of the Crapping throne (toilet bowl). Hell no, Zeus isn't the bane of the Titans, Colitis is.

But all is not lost when I have a great white “pillow” to comfort me in my time of tribulation cause by the looseness of my bowels.

A Vagabond off to India

In my iPod: Snuff - Slipknot
State of mind: Binge, Re-gorge & Purge
Location: Home

First and fucking foremost, this is just a fucking short update...

And so my fucking friends, in less than 3 weeks, I will be on my fucking way to India to fucking lead a bohemian life style. I got my fucking visa and tickets; my dog will be very well taken care of because Jane has promised come back as often as she can; all my office work is fucking settled (what work?). In my fucking absence my co-workers will be taking turns filling my shoes as the fucking cook; My new HP mini has just arrived (it sucks but I really need to travel light), so hopefully I can update as I move from places to places; I got my travel plan of how I am going to ramble like a homeless cat around India for 5 long weeks to fucking quench this wanderlust demon in me. My motherfucking backpack is ready and it will fucking start from:

But one last thing that I need to do is get my stomach ready for India. You know the one thing that everyone gets (whether you like it or not) from India is the fucking diarrhea. I just talked to Bobo the other day and she told me that her sister actually turned green during her stay in India. I gotta admit that of late I am not that very strong in the stomach. As a matter of fact I am a softie when it comes to that. Since coming back here, I haven't been eating food from the roadside stalls or night market. Heck, I hardly eat out. Thus making me almost 99% certain that I am going to get the looseness of the bowels and I am going to get it real bad. But right now, I am 110% sure because I am having a shitting my ass off after I consume a new product from the night market. It is call a coconut shake. Coconut shake is basically any kind of drink with an added dash of coconut milk. I was told not to but...

So now I am in the process of fucking recovering from my purging disease but what I really need is to strengthen my fucking stomach before I head to land where diarrhea is abundant and free. That is why besides taking Bobo's advice of taking every goddamn immunity jab and Tzyy Ling's advice of packing a medicine cabinet into my luggage, I need to fucking fortified my stomach into a fucking garbage processor, so that I can take in whatever shit they fucking serve there. They say that the more you fucking recover from food poisoning the less venerable you fucking become. So here's my fucking game plan: to get as sick as much as possible from food poisoning, recover and get stronger from it before I leave.

I know it will be over dramatic to eat rotten food or food that I pick up from the ground or trash can; but thanks to the local city council here, they have this cleanliness rating system for restaurants. “A” being really clean and “C” being dirty. So my mission for these 3 weeks before I leave is to dine as much as I can in these “C” class restaurants or maybe even a “D”. I haven't fucking seen a “D” yet but I am guessing it means fucking filthy. You know what, if it is really that filthy, what is difference from eating outta a trash can? Anyways, if anyone is interested in turning their stomach into steel, you can always join me.

I know 3 weeks is still a long way to go but I am already excited. I just can't fucking wait to go to a fucking place where people worships livestock and elephants as deities.

Anyway, I am still glued to my TV watching 怪谈(some Hong Kong paranormal talk show) that Jane has recorded for me on HD. This shit is fucking addictive and not to mention spooky which is totally to my liking. It's one of them show that after you watched it, you will get all nyctophobia and shit and all you wanna do is sleep with one eye open while gripping your fucking pillow tight. (Alright I admit the last part of the sentence is a rip off from "Enter Sandman" :P)

Ok, so this wasn't a short update after all..my bad.

Death, Injuries and Shit like That

If the above is true, this wouldn’t be me writing this wouldn’t it? But a logical explanation to justify the above would be that I somehow, found my way back from the depths of Hades and blog about what fucking happened to me. But for the time being, let’s just stick to the version that the above isn’t real and let me tell you what fucking mess I got myself into again.

Firstly, I am proud to announce that this should be my 5th injury this year; I am getting better at this I think I had 3 last year. 4 minor injuries and 1 big one (broken feet) this year, am I good or am I good? You can’t blame me because it has been raining like hell these days back here and accidents are prone to happened when you don’t wear protection and it is wet, just look at Evie who gave birth to her first born after 9 months. (Wukakakaka! Okie, not funny, my bad) I know you must be thinking it is nothing to be proud; some of you might have be fond of collecting stuff that you like, well for me, you could say that I have fetish of collecting scars on my body. I wonder will it ever be consider as body art one of these days.

Look at this baby, I got this while one while trying to avoid a fucking tree on my downhill ride in the P Hill downhill ride. It wouldn’t give me a good scar but it will just give me a good old sore arm for days. It ain’t that bad because it is my left hand which is feeling the numb, I still have my good old right which allows me to move my mouse and also practice my one hand typing which is pretty useful when you are having cyber-sex (that is what I heard), don’t look at me cause I am still a cyber-virgin. But the only thing sucky about having a sore left arm it that you can’t play PS3 because it requires both of your thumbs, but there are always alternatives, I guess computer games are back in the menu again. this took place with my biking buddies...

Anyway, Lisa was pissed at me because I didn’t wanna go shopping with her for clothes, I asked her to snap pictures of her in the dressing room with anything she plans to get and send it over to me, it would be like having me with her in the dressing room. But she told me, how on earth can she take her own picture in the dressing room? I have seen it done many many times by many many female bloggers, pointing at the mirror and snapping away. So how hard can it be? It isn’t rocket science right? So I tried showing it to her how it was done but all my pictures turned out crap. So I give up and I will drag my lazy ass out to go shopping with her. I hereby salute all those who are able to camwhore flawlessly in the dressing room.

Strike Three and My Suicide Note

Dear everyone and the aliens who are spying on earthlings with their tiny satellite from outer space,


Current Mood: Alien paranoia due to Star Trek marathon
Suffering from: Depression due to post Nine Inch Nails concert trauma
Listening to: Nine Inch Nails - GHOST IV 32 [click to download]


I am looking at strike count number 3 here. First it was after I tried keeping up with Cheeseburger Eddy’s diet which landed me on the toilet seat more times than some of you ever get laid…wukakaka (joking, at least my sense of humor is still intact XD). The second strike was after endless sleepless nights of chatting on MSN and blogging plus the Hooter-rific hot wings that got me sick to my stomach. And now I got the flu from Lisa who has just recovered; Hell, I have been sick 3 times ever since I came here. It is more like I got sick almost every two weeks. WTF!!! I think my antibody is really going to hell ever since I recovered from my leg injury, which reminds me that I have a long due medical appointment. I should have been checking in with my doctor last month to see how my sepsis is doing but I guess it to wait till I get back.
Anyway, I am back in LA and staying with my buddy Cheeseburger Eddy in Pasadena. Besides being down with the flu, having dried up tangled hair, pale and peeling skin and dried up cracked lips which hurt when anyone tries to kiss it, besides that I am doing pretty good I think. I asked Cheeseburger Eddy to take Lisa out so that she could pick up some brochure and information to help us plan our trip up north of California to see them winery. And so I am home alone resting and armed with some flu capsule and my special medication in my flask. Even though it is 23 degrees here, but I am still having the chills which make it totally alright for me to have more of my special medication. *A mental note to myself, remember to fill in stronger stuff in my flask before Lisa gets back; i.e. Chili Vodka (God damn it, I am so in love with Chili flavored Vodka.). Even my fingers tips are peeling too, which makes it impossible for me to practice any guitar, so I guess I will be doing another movie marathon. And I just found a set of movies from Cheeseburger Eddy’s Laser Disc collection – The Omen I – IV.




xxoo,
x

P.S. If I don’t wake up due to the flu capsule and my special medication, just treat this as my suicide note.

P.S.S. If so, you can also add this to my most painless ways to commit suicide post.

P.S.S.S. Damn it, I hope I don’t die yet, because I look like crap now. I rather die when I am better and be a good looking corpse.


my ass is like an oil well
I am Afraid of America

Post Concert Syndrome

I am not sure if you all have heard of it but I am sure many of you have felt it but didn’t know what it is. Post Concert Syndrome is actually the feeling of depression that comes about after going to a kick ass live concert. But before you get to the Post Concert Syndrome, the victim will first experience the Pre Concert Syndrome which may include the following:


- Days/weeks/months before the concert, you feel like time is at a standstill.


- Excessive blogging about the band/concert, to a certain point that everybody who isn’t going will hate you.

• Lights in the sky and i am leaving for North American soon
• I Can Hardly Wait
• HURT

-constantly reminding all the other people who are not going that you are going. i.e., Setting your nick or putting the tag line in your MSN to remind people that you are going for the concert.


-a day before or the morning of the concert, you become surged with adrenaline. You get high without the help of any substance or alcohol.


-Moments before the concert, you may appear calm on the outside but inside your heart beats faster and faster, and you cannot believe it is already here.


-When the concert starts you just go in a trance and during the concert, you are in a place of complete bliss - a higher state of euphoria than a Hindu cow.


- Immediately after the concert, you are excessively high and you run around completely hyper, still reciting songs from the band. Everyone in that concert is now your new best friends, even though you don’t know them. Putting your arms around their shoulders and singing along with these people that you have been with during the concert. But to non-concertgoers, you may appear to be some sort of ecstasy.


- As you go home, you may still be trembling with excitement and happiness. And you would tell of your awesome experience to anyone (even the cab driver) who would listen, although most of them don’t care and this is where the Post Concert Syndrome kicks in.

LIFE AFTER THE NINE INCH NAILS’ CONCERT

The Post Concert Syndrome

Emotionally:

-feeling of sadness and infinite melon collie, an increase in obsession with the band i.e. such as listening to nothing but their music.



- partial amnesia, your inability to remember every little detail that happened at the concert or even remembering things that never happened and this will lead to frustration and major mood swing worst than a lady who is having PMS.


-Feeling of regret for no apparent reason…




Physically:


- Looked flush.


-Blood shot eyes resulting from the awesome lighting that probably cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to set up.


-You nicely conditioned hair is all tangled up in a bunch from excessive head banging and hardcore dancing.


-Continuous buzzing sound in your ears thanks to the mega loud music in the concert. The buzzing sound would only become louder when your surrounding is quiet, especially when you are about to sleep. It would probably take days to heal this.


- having the voice of a transvestite resulting from screaming along with the band; you wouldn’t notice that you were shouting the song during the concert because everything was so loud that you can’t even hear yourself scream.


-The smell of a million smelly socks put together, especially when you are standing beside two topless dudes that smells like smelly socks during the concert.
-probably some blue black bruises from all the pushing and shoving while trying to get near the stage.




I guess the aftermath of concert and the Post Concert Syndrome seems pretty bad huh? Even though there is no known cure for Post Concert Syndrome but if you ask me if I would do it again, fuck yeah, in a heart’s beat I would do it all over again because the concert is so fucking awesome. You know even with the super relative word “fucking”, it isn’t enough to describe the awesomeness of the concert. I‘ll tell you all about it another time because I am so fucking tired right now and all I wanna do is fucking lie down and sleep. When I got back to the hotel, I was so worn out, I really wanted to head to bed and dosed off. But knowing that I am not sleeping alone and I smell like crap. I actually tried spraying some cologne before hopping into bed. But I was instantly kicked outta bed and into the shower. So that is why I am blogging this while Lisa is drying my hair. These are really times that I missed my bald head.

You know sometimes I forgotten how nice it is to be living alone. You can do all kind of crap and no one would really bother. But I guess this is the price and sacrifice that you have to make to live together.

The Holy Grail of Female Orgasm

Seriously, I was asked to research and do a post on how to make female squirt water during sex sometime ago by 2 married ladies on the MSN. I was in no position to do so because at that time of my life, I have never ever made or witness a real life water squirting female. But determined to do so, I have dedicated my time and effort in examining the secret behind the springing fountain that lies between the legs of a women. It’s been almost a year now and I think I have did enough research and test to proudly present you with a tutorial on how to make a female squirt water during intercourse.

Basically the phenomenon of springing water from between the legs of the lady is also known as the female ejaculation. When women ejaculate as much as two cups of ejaculate can gush out, that is more than a can of Pepsi we are talking about. Many women have been accused of urinating on their partners. And this has caused embarrassment and confusions. But you see heavy stimulation to the G-spot causes the urethral sponge to become engorged with fluid, which is then exploded out during orgasm. Before ejaculating, the woman will feel as though she is going to pee. However, it is impossible for her to pee while cumming because the muscular contractions of orgasm close off the bladder and prevent the passage of urine. So ladies don’t have to be embarrassed about it and guys don’t have to be pissed about it because the shower that you just had is merely an indication that you have been doing it all right. So to achieve this amazing feat, first of all you must locate the G-spot and then administer a shit load of stimulation to it. To help you in stimulating the G-spot, please refer to this post. – How to Kung Fu Sex. As you work your stuff and building up juices down there, remember when the female is nearing cumming, she will have the urge of peeing. That's the cum beginning to flow into her urethra. In order for her squirt water like a fucking fountain, she has to relax, let go, and push down and out with the same muscles she would use as if she were peeing. As she cums and pushes the fluid out, she should feel extra intense orgasmic pleasure, vagina nectar that flow out may range from gentle gush to a fire hydrant spray.


Attaining female ejaculation may take some practice and experimentation and remember it takes two to make the fountain works and a very useful tip for those who is going to experiment on this ….one word….”towels”…lots of them.



*This post is done upon request, if you have anymore things you would like to learn , please email your request .

Curing the Plague of the Flat Chested Ladies

This post actually has got nothing what so ever to do with me, in fact I think my bust is just right. But somehow, people around me especially ladies whom I know seems to be whining about their size lately. I know it is perfectly normal for them to whine about their size but when you have more than 5 people whining about the same thing to you, you seem to get a bit curious and it makes you wonder that is this the new threat to the planet? Soon the world would be overrun by flat chest ladies? God please no, I rather you rain fire and brimstone down upon us. While science have given us the edge to make boobies as large as they can get but they still feel like crap to the hands of a groper and it is still not safe to squeeze with all your might because it might cause leakage. Imagine having to be reminded by the lady not to squeeze too hard because the boob job cost her thousands. Fuck that, who wants fake ass tits on a fucked up chest anymore? But do not despair because what I have learned is implant is not the only way to increase your bust size. Breast Massage is a conventional way of enhancing your breast size. Using massages to enhance your bust size is doubly advantageous because it has no side-effects and it do away with the need of any surgery, no foreign body is ever placed into the body and thus reducing the risk of any problems thereafter. Breast massage is used by oriental women since centuries. It is a simple process and doesn't take more than a few moments to accomplish and it can be done in the privacy of your home or with a help of another person or you can call me (seriously, you can call me anytime).






What is the fucking sense of it all?

You see, the breast is made up of tissue and fat. A firm and proper massage helps tone these tissues and firms them up. This gives the breasts a healthier and more natural look. This therefore leads to an enhancement and enlargement of breast size. Problems like sagging breasts and inverted nipples can be easily cured by breast massaging techniques. Finally, breast massages increase the tone and breast and the bust size.



Hell yeah, I am convinced, show me how it is fucking done…

The four steps in breast massaging…

• One

Starting from the nipple, push downwards with the three longer fingers of your hand. The movement should be slow and almost graceful for better results. Be sure not to apply heavy pressure. The right trick is to maintain a moderate touch.

• Two

Then the breast should be lightly massaged with a kneading kind of action. Hold one breast with both your hands so as to cup out the breast. Do not apply heavy pressure; stop if it begins to hurt. Holding your breast in this manner, go on kneading it slightly for a while. Finish with one breast, and then take on the other.

• Three

The third step is most important to give a round firmness to the breasts. Hold your breast just as you had done in the earlier step. But instead of squeezing it out, give it a twirling kind of motion. Rotate your hands (and thus the breast) in a clockwise motion, followed by an equal anticlockwise motion. Continue this for about ten times. Then repeat with the other breast.

• Four

Finally, open out your palms then move it downwards so that the fingers rub against the side surfaces of the breast. This should not be done on the nipple, as it may spoil its shape. Continue this for about ten times per breast.





Lastly, there are professional breast masseurs who offer breast massages, like xniquet’s house of breast masseurs. They have a peculiar technique, termed as the breast lift. In this procedure, the breasts are lifted skywards. Such a kind of massage increases the elasticity of the breast, and also helps release the toxins in the breast. The masseurs also pay special care to the ladies as long as they are hot. So don’t forget to pick up that dial and call or email to make an appointment.



*This post is done upon request, if you have anymore things you would like to learn , please email your request. Your identity will be kept upon request.*

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