It’s Just a Mug of Lard

I have always been a grandma boy since the day my mum decided to retire from being a full time house wife and join the work force, so that we had enough to put my sister through Art College. So I was left under my grandma’s rules at the age of 3. Most of the people who knew my grandma, knew her as a sweet old lady who wouldn’t even hurt a rat, but none of them knew about the iron lady that rule with an iron clad fist when it comes to grooming and table manners. For the first 10 years of my life, I was basically a private living in my grandma’s barrack and was put through the most intensive grooming mastery and table manners mastery training (think Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket but minus the vulgarity). For her grooming and manners is nothing to be laughing and gagging around about; and she believes that all good things should be rewarded and bad ones are to be punished. There wasn’t a day in my life while living with her that I do not fear that I was not presentable enough for her and having meals with her was as intense as taking a walk in the field filled with live mines. Today, many may think that I am just generally faking my table manners to impress others while my friends used to think that I might be on the verge of becoming a transvestite because of my overly grooming “protocol”. But thanks to the term metro-sexual, I finally got them off my back. Even though her methods may seem a little excessive but only good things has come from it. She has made me who I am today in terms of self grooming and table manners.


But I never thought that one day it would lead me to one the most horrid experience in my life. It was early morning at Shegar and while my Canadian companions were still resting after a night of drinking, I decided to go down to the lounge of the guest house that I was staying in. Just as I step down and into the lounge, two Tibetan women saw me and they jump up to their feet and started to talk in tongues to each other. Then one of them came over and said something to me which totally sounded gibberish and then she seated me at a table, while the other woman was busy preparing something. Well, I guess they were just doing what they do best – Play host and feed the guest.


One thing that my grandma had thought me is never to turn down sincere hospitality and also I must not leave the table until I finish what that has been served to me. But as I turn my head over my should and saw one of the women walking towards me with her eye fixed on mine and in her hands the single most behemoth size mug which I have a pretty good idea what was inside it. I was right; it was what I thought it was – Yak Butter Tea that was made from green tea leave, Yak butter and water.


Earlier I was told by the Canadian connection that Yak butter Tea was probably the worst drink that they have ever tasted and I should by all means avoid if I do not have a strong stomach. Now look at the mess I got myself into just by taking a stroll downstairs. I try to calm myself down and told myself that it wasn’t going to be that bad. I smile and accepted the women’s generous offer. And now it was just me, the monster mug and 2 sets of eyes on me; I take a gulp of the hot, salty and buttery drink. Bloody fucking hell, the taste was far worse than I ever anticipated; it was like drinking really bad melted butter.


Faking a smile and throwing a thumb up, I manage to keep the ladies’ eyes off me. But now, I have to get to the bottom of this mug and I had a plan. I will try to take little sip that would allow it to slip pass my taste receptors at the side of my tongue. It was a good plan at first but soon I begin to realize that it was too slow and the top layer of my tea was starting to solidify and pretty soon it turned into chunks of lard.


You know what is worst than having Yak Butter Tea? It is having a cold Yak Butter tea.

Really I don't have to tell you how my story ends because you can pretty much guessed since I was stuck with a mug full of misery. Draining down a mammoth mug of green tea with chunks of chewy lard floating in it is probably the worst experience thus far and it will forever earn a place in my life's hall of fame. Usually, I would become a spin doctor and tell everyone how tasty and good this beverage is and everyone should try it. But I think anyone without a strong gut to hold in a steamy mug of lard should never ever go through what I have just gone through.


Let’s just hope I don’t get sick along the way to our next destination - Shigatse.

Rape the Moment

As our Land Cruiser chugged down the unpaved road leaving a trail of dust, we slowly made our ascend to the world highest plateau. We work our way across Nyalam Pass which was about 3,800 meters above sea level and we steadily climb up Lalung-la Pass which stood above 5,050 meters. Officially, we were on top of a plateau that is 1,000 meters taller than the highest peak in Malaysia. So, is there any chance in hell that maybe I could get one of them certificate that mountaineers get after that have conquer Mt. Kinabalu? Hell, I’m Malaysian and I stood taller than your highest peak? No? Pffffftttttt…


You know unlike Malaysian highways, here you don’t really have to worry about going to the rest room at a pit stop. Because it is everywhere, I am not kidding you. Whenever you feel like doing number 1 or even number 2, there are no worries about holding back till the next stop. Seriously, you don’t have to because there aren’t going to be any pit stop en route. Just look around you, the nature is your fucking toilet; behind some bushes or a huge rock or trees or maybe a cave if you are lucky enough. People here live and shit freely as they wish; they do not need a designated place for them to aim their penises or squat down, and that my friend is the free spirit of Tibet. (iThink…)


Anyway, it was the same old clear blue sky with white cotton candy clouds, the gray unpaved road and the typical Tibetan landscape filled with the view of the Himalayan ranges. And it was just a little outside of the town of Tingris, the Braille of our facial expression let out in unison the meaning of awe and adoration, as we caught the first glimpse of Mt. Everest - the mother goddess of all the mountains. I was looking straight at the roof of the world. Its funny how just by recalling that moment, I get goose bumps all over. But it went down rather differently there. Just like a pack of excited wild baboon, we pull our vehicle aside and started doing crazy pose and ugly facial expression as we jump around and take turns to snap pictures of ourselves with the north face of Mt Everest. Are we just being disrespectful for not respecting the moment or are we just humans? I really cannot imagine if god were to come down and we all started to react to the same manner as we did today; but I guess it would have been a great “Remember the time I camwhore with god” story. Fucking A?

And so we did what we have to do, and after we have kill and rape the revered vibe of that moment and place, our excitement finally died down and we were on our way to our next stop for the day – Shegar.

At The Gates of Hell

After a real early supper on our first day in Nyalam, I was stuffed, not drunk but almost and I was ready to mingle with some of the trekkers staying in the same guest house. But to be frank, right about now, the last thing I need is some loudmouth trekker telling “Remember the time” stories and how awesome it is that they are going to head out to Mt. Everest base camp tomorrow. Seriously, I don’t get jealous easily but right now I don’t need another half-stoner reminding me that at my current state of health, I am not fit to even think of Everest. I know it is hard to avoid it because most of the trekkers that spends the night here is either going up or has just came back from there and every fucking thing that they spits outta their mouth is either Mt. Everest or something related to it.


So being that sore loser that I was that night, I drifted away from the “Mt Everest” clique like a desolated jerkwater berg and sat down alone at the corner far enough where their conversation seems gibberish and the sound of their laughter seems muffled. Just as I thought my first night here was going to end the moment I finish the strong content that was inside my flask. A fairly young local came up to me and we sorta started talking. The conversation wasn’t as interesting as the one going on inside, as a matter of fact it was full of banality but I do appreciated her gesture of coming over.


My night here was basically between Scylla and Charybids, but if I have to choose between them again, it would definitely be the slow and boring chat with this local Tibetan girl. Well, at least I found out what the nickname of this Town of Nyalam is; the Nepalese traders refers this place “The Gates of Hell' because the route here to the Nepalese border is so treacherous. Here Bhote Kosi River which acts as a physical border between Nepal and Tibet drops into a deep and extremely steep gorge, like a crack on the face of the earth that is almost 1000 foot deep. Well, I am glad I already passed through that and I will not be looking forward to crossing it again on my way back.

We started the next day pretty late because unlike me, most of us were too pissed drunk to even bother sleep last night. Amongst my friends back at home, I was the most lay back ones, but when I'm with these guys, I’m like the Monica Gellar of FRIENDS. You know one thing that I didn’t really notice last night during supper is that how crappy the food here is. Our lunch spread was basically: fish that smells fishy, soy sauce that doesn’t taste like soy sauce, pork that taste like last night’s pork (Wait it is last night’s pork!), noodles basically serve with water, bean curd (well, this is alright) and some tasteless broth with floating vegetables. Maybe it is just me feeling a little cranky but I am just gonna let it slide because I am really looking forward to head to our next town.

God, I miss tar roads

As Bloodshot Clear as Stigmata

Driving along the Chinese 318 feels like a [G - D^add11 - E^m7 - A^m]; if you are not sure what the fuck I mean, maybe you could strap on your guitar or pull up your piano seat and try playing these chords. The sky is so clear and blue; you could through the stratosphere and maybe beyond; the panoramic view of the mountains over the Tibetan plateau makes you wonder just how huge this earth that you thought was getting smaller really is.



Let me take you a little after the border town of Kodari, we have to leave our Nepali ride, bag up and make it up to the Friendship Bridge, then waltz right into China on our feet. (No cars are allowed). Once we pass the arch with the red flag, we were officially out of Nepal and now we are subject to the rules and regulations of the People’s Republic of fucking China. There was a little set back because we waited for hours upon hours before we could get to our Land Cruiser. I guess someone didn’t slip in a little something extra for the officials but I am just too tired to be complaining and I am just thankful that we are back on the road and not locked up in some cell to rot because we were carrying a fair amount of “spirits” with us.



Everything was uphill (literary) after we left the bridge over Bhote Kosi river; the first Tibetan town we came by was Zhangmu (樟木), it was 2,300 meters above sea level. It didn’t stop there, we continue on climbing till we reached Nyalam (聂拉木) which was 3,750meters above sea level and which was also our first pit stop for day 1. If this was Malaysia’s highest mountain then I have already made it 90% to its peak. I swear if I didn’t know better, I would have thought that this was the stairways to heaven.

Maybe it was because of the staring into the clear blue skies and the endless jagged mountains along the way that have given me a sign, as bloodshot clear as stigmata. Who am I kidding? I looked deep into my heart and found that it was drenched with only the thought of her. So be gone my inner demons, stop stalling me, for I am ready to split myself open like the Red Sea and bare my soul to the apple of my eye.

Alright Ramblers, Let’s get Rambling.

My days in Nepal are finally coming to an end. Initially I was going to embark on a journey by bus to get myself into Tibet and head towards the holy land of Lhasa. But it was probably fate or maybe the alcohol that led me into a group of Canadians from Calgary, Alberta. They were about to drive from Kathmandu to Lhasa and I was more than welcome to join them as long as I am willing to help out with the trip. We will start from Kathmandu and drive about 130clicks to the Nepal/Tibet border town of Kodari, after getting through the Chinese border it would be another six days ride cross country before we reach Lhasa. It’s been so long since I have been on a really long road trip and I am really looking forward to it. I really hope that none of this would turn into the tragedy that befell a family of Malaysian in Kashmir.


Three's a company; Four may be a crowd but you don't need to graduate from MIT to know that it would definitely ease everyone’s financial burden and thus more loose change to booze all night, all the way. So I guess in a matter of hours, I will be off with my new found ramblers, rambling outta Nepal and into Tibet. This is how I met Greg, Owen and Susan and the beginning of the end of my run to the roof of the world.

Current: The [insert a Canadian slur here, I can’t think of any] are still getting all provision and stuff for the trip and not to mentioned something extra for our spiritual needs. It might get us a little bit high but I reckon spirits are really necessary to keep us warm against the Tibetan cold weather. As for me I am all set and ready to go anytime now.



P.s. Yes, sometimes I wish I could be there to talk to you too.

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.

Going Home

playing on my iPod:
Open Your Eyes - Alter Bridge

The first thing they teach you when bringing a hooker to a hotel for the night is never show up with her at the lobby at the same time. Instead ask her to chill outside while you go through the bullshit red tape of getting a room. Once you are done, head up to room alone and then text her your room number. Never in any circumstances be caught together in the elevator or even walking within 5 meters of each other. I mean you can never be too careful when you are engaging a sex transaction in Malaysia. You know what, since I am talking about this shit right here, it does put me in a position of a regular whore customer who does this all the time huh? But again, hookers are not the only ones that you bring to a hotel for the night. When you are having an affair with another person's wife, these are the little things that you pick up along the way; you just gotta be more careful when you are a mounting someone's wife than just a hooker. But it just wasn't tonight; I broke every single fucking rule that I could think of that is listed in the unwritten book of fornicators under the chapter of "Getting a room to fornicate" Thanks to the half tablet that was dissolved in my beer which I drain down like an extra strong maxi-pad while I was in the Golden Bar, I was fucking high and almost drunk when we reach the hotel and Noi was with me all the way, from the lobby to the room.

The room was a cozy with two single beds; I actually requested it that way because the last thing I wanna do was sleeping and cuddling with someone I just met from a bar; for fucks sake, I don't even enjoy cuddling with any of my lovers. As we stepped in room, I asked Noi to go take a shower or do whatever she is supposed to do and I told her to take her fucking time because I was going to steal a nap before the party starts. But as I lay my head on the soft pillow and wrapped myself with the comfortable duvet, I felt like I was cemented unto the bed. Every inch of my body refused to move and it almost feels like I was paralyzed. From there, all I could remember was Noi coming up to me but I brushed her away and asked her to off the fucking lights, the next thing I know I woke up in the morning, only to find Noi sleeping on the other bed. As for any fucking action, I can be very sure that none took place because I was still fully clothed and still stink of yester-night's cigarette and alcohol stench. I showered and then woke Noi up then I took her out for breakfast before dropping her off. I guess there is something about not getting it on with Noi last night that made me feel good, my spirit was lifted and I didn't even bother about being seen leaving the hotel with her. Even though others might think otherwise about what happened last night, but to me nothing happened and I was fucking proud of it. Though my wallet is RM400 thinner but it was an experience that counts. So I have officially engaged the service of a whore minus the sex and now can go around calling myself macho and brag about it. To be frank, my intention last night was to go back to the hotel, get high with booze and pills and see what happens but it rather turn out nothing. Noi being the professional treated last night as a legitimate deal and spoke nothing of it. But deep down inside I think I know she is smiling all the way, because she was a client richer and she didn't have to break a fucking sweat or fake an orgasm for it.

It was one of those awkward breakfasts because I was the type who doesn't know what to say to a hooker the next morning and she definitely didn't want to remind me that I was a fucking dead corpse last night and then having me ask for the money back. The uncomfortable silence was like a pinch in the nuts, so I ended it by telling her that whatever happens last night, just leave it all behind us and use whatever time we got to have a nice breakfast and a good conversation. I thought I saw her let go a sight of relieve as she digs in her morning meal. Our conversation was just small empty talks about the mundane and everyday life, but it got interesting when she suddenly open up and shared about her life and how she ended up here. You see her father was a hardcore serial gambler that got himself into some serious debt with the local loan shark; Noi had no choice but to work for them. She was first promised work as a cleaning lady in Malaysia but that wasn't how it went down when she reached here. The initial stage when she was here, she just couldn't take it. She was locked up in houses and apartments, transported like livestock to bars, brothel or SPA, wherever girls are needed, she was to be send there. Guys of all shapes and sizes, race and age have a crack on her; she felt so filthy and couldn't imagine herself being this low. She tried to end her own life but didn't succeed; in turn her employers threaten her that if she dies, he father's debt will never be clear and her younger sister will eventually take her place. Her contract was that she has to work as a sex worker in Malaysia for 5 years to clear off her father's debt and she has to sleep with at least 800 clients per year. Man, talking about having a hard life and even though I do have my downside in my life but not this low. I asked her how she finally comes in terms with herself and what she is doing. She told me that even though she hates what she is and even when the society look down on her like a immoral degenerate scourging and plaguing the earth with sickness and disease, deep down inside she know that she is doing all these for her family and securing a future for her younger sister and there is no shame in doing something for her family. But if given a chance, she rather be in another profession than this. Whatever she told me, lay heavy in my heart for my action last night makes me as guilty as any other horny bastards who look at Noi as an object to quench our carnal desire and not knowing that the shit that she has been through. She has definitely opened my eyes and I have a whole different view on prostitutes.

She smiled as she left my car. I silently wished her all the strength and wellness in the world as she turned and walked into her living hell of which I have come to know as the Golden Bar. Even though, I never really know her that well but the story of her life left a dent in my heart. All this while I was pissed and frustrated with the way my life is going and heading; and at so many times, I came so close in ending it. But here, I am destined to meet someone who is suffering more than me and on top of that, she can't even bail out on her life. I have been traveling aimlessly around and finally it took a stranger to make me realize that I should head home and face whatever that reminds me of my pain?

I'm going home...


*All the above took place almost a week ago, but I just took my sweet time to blog about it. Currently I am back but camping out in the studio and trying to see what is next for me*

She is Going Back with Me

playing on my iPod:
The World I Know - Collective Soul

You think you are going to be doing this forever? You think you are going to outlast time? The problem is, now you have the ability but the thing about ability is that they don't last. Your days are numbered and it is ending one minute, one second at a time. That is the hard fact of life that your ass has got to be realistic about. But in this business there are a lot of motherfuckers who is not realistic about this. Motherfuckers who think their ass would age like wine, if you mean they turn into vinegar, you are right. But if you think it will get better with age, they don't. When you look yourself in the mirror, you will find your breast isn't as perky as they used to be or it isn't located where it used to be. When most guys would rather go for the younger girls than go with your enthusiasm and your experience, even when you are willing to lower your price; you know it is time to fold your cards. The moment you make that decision to quit, you will feel a sting because that is your motherfucking pride fucking with you. Fuck pride, it only hurts and it never helps. Noi most definitely knew this because she was your average sex for hire worker. She has been in this line of profession for 3 years and for someone in the sex trade, it has been a long time. Coming from a family who had nothing, 3 years ago, she was promised an overboard job in the sanitation field but how she ended up fulfilling men's pleasure is another untold tale. I asked her how does she cope with what she is doing, she simply told me that money may be one of the biggest motivation for her but at the same time, she have learn how to enjoy the sex. When men pay for sex, they expect to get the whole package. A good head and then some wicked humping. Foreplay to them is when you fondle their dicks while they sip their beer and there is no chance in hell they would stick their tongue in to the holiest of holies or chow down on some pussy. You just have to find ways to excite and arouse yourself than to rely on them clients.

So in that dirty scandalous booth of which the patron of the Golden Bar refer to as the love booth, I was caught in some sort of a meat entanglement with Noi; she was all over me; it was intense and if you have been having a long dry spell of sexless night, I bet your dirty ass that a lot of men are going to fall into her seduction, if not, suffer a death by having sperm rush to the brain. But somehow it didn't work for me; don't get me wrong, I am not saying that I am some sort of a super monk sworn to celibacy that has a super resistance to sex; deep down inside I am still flesh and bones and I admit that do find joy and indulge in various carnal pleasures and fantasies. But coming from the state that I am in, it would take a shit load of Viagra to ever give me a hard on; even if she manage to get my "man stick" to stand up, the only sex position that I can ever perform would be a "Dead Fish Position" of which I will be playing the role of the dead fish and that would pretty much be like necrophilia, wouldn't it? I guess all her teasing tricks of the trade to sexually arouse me just didn't pay off today. Not only I was corpse like tired, one of my firmest and treasured believe that I hold tight to is that I don't believe in paying for sex. It is not that I look down on sex workers or anything, I totally have no problem with them and I respect them. I have no problem shoving my dick in a public places but I believe that sex should be done freely, in terms of money or will. Paying to get laid is something that I have never done before. You know as I lay there, Noi was pulling out all her trick to get me to go to bed with her; the thing that was going in my head wasn't should I or should I not bang her like a drum tonight? The first thing that came to my mind was, she is Thai and with the mention of Thai, the first thing that comes to mind is Transsexual. The only sane thing to do was to reach down and brace myself for a confirmation. 

Hallelujah! No dick! The feeling of happiness and relieve only lasted about two shakes of a lamb's tail, when the feeling paranoia started to creep in again. What if Noi had a sex operation? You just can't blame me because she was from a country famous for girls with willies; she could look like that Aliza Elizabeth, but it is still damn gross. Hey, no matter how major of a crush I have on Aliza if she previously has a dick a Man-vagina is still a no go for me. Selah[Hebrew].

I put Noi to a standstill as I pretend to ask her about the charges for her services and just like a pushy multi-level marketing direct selling representative who is so willing to trap you like a fly and sell her product, she started to lash out what she have to offer and presented her indecent proposal. If you are planning to make a quick cum in the booth, hand jobs are at RM50 and blow jobs are at RM100; but full frontal straight up sex are forbidden in the booth, but you are allowed to take the girl up to a room on the third floor where you can screw each other抯 brains out and also you are treated to whatever special skill the girl has to offer; Noi's special skill is her special blow job which if directly translated from Cantonese it means "Ice-Fire-Wind Blow Job" a blow job which includes ice cubes, warm water and Hacks (a minty cough drops). The whole fucking (verb not adjective) package will only cost you only RM200 per shot but if you are a long distance fucker or the hard to cum type, it will be RM250. Condoms must be used at all times while fucking, if you haven't got any, an additional RM5 will be charged for the use of house condoms. But if you are in the mood of having an all night long fucking session, she can be yours for the fucking pleasure for a one off sum of RM400, but this only applies after 1am and you will have to provide your own hotel room and she must be transported back by 12pm the next day. Looking at Noi and her drape-less breast as she carefully explain to me the terms of the engagement, her ability to sell just wasn't there for me, all I had in my mind was her gender; so I ask her bluntly and she offer my hand a little tour down under and beneath her panties, which I decline. But her sincerity was enough to convince me that she was an XX but it wasn't enough to make me wanna engage in any sexual intercourse with her. I told her that I was dead tired from traveling the whole day and I would take a rain check. But seeing that the time was almost already 2am and I was her last hope for the night. She tries even harder to solicit me to take her overnight and she would even throw in a Thai massage as part of the package. Tempting as it maybe but the flesh is weak and I don't see any way around it except for me bailing outta there right after I finish the fucking nectar that this fine establishment had to offer. And in her desperation, she suddenly took out something that would instantly make me a fish getting its mouth caught in a huge hook. It was in the form of a small tablet and there was an "X" imprinted on it. Even though my physique triumphs over my lust but it was my addiction that got the best of me. Noi has finally gotten what she wanted because somehow she knew that all I needed tonight was to party; party with ecstasy. I paid the full amount and we were out of the golden bar's door and on our way to get a room for the night. I do not know what the night holds for me but you just can't trust a man when you give them booze, ecstasy and a hooker. I don't even fucking trust me?

Noi

playing on my iPod:
Move Along - The All-American Rejects

Even in the mist of all the darkness, Noi was the type who could give you a "Zero to Hard On " below 10 seconds. Her not that pretty but pleasant features and all that mass behind her tight white tank top which is wrapped over hers, as if it was her second skin. She came up to me and stare hard at me as I was trying to swallow a mouthful warm bubbly piss-like beer; I pause as she tilt her head sideways to look for movement in my Adam's apple to see if that the repugnant drink went into my throat. I just couldn't hold in my expression, so she asked me if there is anything wrong with the beer, so I told her that I am just not a beer lover and also usually I don't take my beer lukewarm, I take them boiling hot . She laughed and told me that I should use the ice which comes with the package, thanks but no thanks. She asked me if she could join me; It wasn't really the firm tight boobies that seem to entice me but it was rather her friskiness and the notion of her coming up to ask me if the beer was alright that made me accepted her company.But if she starts with all the pesky soliciting, I will be out of her face in just two shakes of a lamb's tail.

Seeing that she was sitting next to me now, the bar tender automatically came over and ask her what she was going to have and she ordered a bigger bottle of beer for the both of us which automatically goes in my bill. Great, just what I fucking needed, it is not about the money but more piss to go around.

I sure fucking hope she drinks it all. She didn't solicit me but instead started on with some small talk which I was totally not in the mood for. I had to pull the plug before we drown ourselves with empty conversation filled with empty words; Before I let her butcher me with her banality, I decided to be a total disrespectful asshole and ask her how was her sex business is treating her? Just to remind you that she have not solicit me or mentioned anything about her being a hooker, so I was pretty much running on faith asking a question like that. She laughed and told me that it was all good and I commented that with those D cup asset , of course business are good. Men like huge ass cattle corn-fed boobies, especially middle aged "Ah Pek" (China man). Well, she agrees that all the most that comes here are only interested in her breast that is why she has returning clients. She told me that she prefers younger guys, because older man always seems to squeeze her tits so hard that it becomes painful. I asked her does it bother her that men only like her for her breast and not her. She said no, it is good for business, it makes her marketable. As a matter of fact she was proud of it and she massages it daily just to keep it firm. Suddenly there was a pause as a wild though escapes my head, I have this sudden surge of wanting to reach down her tank top and grope a feel of that breast meat. But another sip of the horrible beer saved me and all that animal instinct just dissolved. Knowing that I should changed the topic from her breast to something else was necessary, I asked her about the private booths in that bar.


She offered to show me; she asked me to pick up my drink and led me into one; the fucking love booth was actually a real small area of 1.5 square meters and surrounded by ply wood and is separated from the outside by two curtains a black one and one made out of beads. That is why I couldn't see through. There was a small fucking wooden sitting bench, the type which Jackie Chan used to use as a weapon to fight in his early Ku Fung movies (Drunken Master 1). We placed our drinks on a really small coffee table and then I planted myself on the wooden bench trying to make myself comfortable. As soon as Noi made sure that the curtains was nicely shut, the booth suddenly turned really dark, just like when I first stepped in the bar. Then without a warning, Noi was all over me, if there is ever a way to define what a thousand hands Buddha is, this was it. I don't know how she does it but she was working her magic of groping, touching, and rubbing me all over. So many places at the same time, man, she was elite. Her hands was all over my crotch area, her chest pressed hard against mine and her mouth was next to my ears, sucking my ear lobes and making the most ridiculous fake moaning sound I have ever heard. I must say that all the touching felt kinda good but the fake moan was really a turn off. Then she lifted up her tank top to reveal her tits and elevated her body and used her tits to press against my face. If there is a time to feel good about being slapped, this was it. She was giving me a titty slap. A titty slap is when your face is being place in between the cleavage and your cheeks are being slap by the breast. It was every naughty boy's wet dream to be slapped in this manner. But in the mist of all these, I suddenly realized that I just couldn't go on with all these, until my conscious is clear; until I have clear my mind of that something or someone. I just have to flush it out of my system before I could really bring myself to enjoy what this over enthusiastic sex machine is doing to me. Yeah I know it is sad but it is hard to do something when you have something or someone clouding your brain. So I close my eyes and I ran my fingers slowly up her bare tights, working my way to her inner tights and towards her crotch. God...Please Lord...Please God...FUCKING PLEASE...PLEASE LORD...FUCK...FUCK LORD...PLEASE..No dick, no dick, no dick please...you just can't be too sure of all the products that come out of Thailand.

The Golden Bar

playing on my iPod:
Dance with You - Live

The pain slither from my toes through my nerves and down my spine and straight up to my brain, I couldn't but to shudder. All the money that I spent on getting pedicure have left me somewhat a noob in cutting my own toe nails that eventually led to my toe nails growing inwards, thus making a deep cut on my toe flesh. I ignored the pain when it first started but as I drove on for days, the pain started to grow and the cut kept getting deeper. Now the pain is so intense or should I say it is just one cunt hair from being legendary. Then I remembered someone told me that if you want to make the pain from cuts go away fast , what you need to do is to take the current pain that you are feeling up to another level for a little while; when you go back to your initial pain, you will feel much better. This is easily done by sprinkling salt or lime juice on the cut. By the time I sprinkled lime juice on my toes, I couldn't even feel it anymore. But after a while, it was so true, the pain was beginning to feel much more bearable and I could drive further. But even being able to bear the pain now, I felt like my body was drained of energy and all I want to do is to lie down and be paralyzed like a spineless corpse. I looked at the time; it was already 10pm and that means I have been driving aimlessly from nowhere to nowhere for more than 10 hours; no wonder I was feeling weak. I stopped for gas twice but I hadn't refueled my body the whole day. I could really use a tall hard drink now, so I pulled over the first pub I came across in this god forsaken town and it just so happened to be called Golden Bar.

For fucks sake, I didn't know what has really gotten into me but the moment I stepped in this bar, a thought ran across my head, this must be the world's sleaziest bar. I could hear the blend of the humming sound of air conditioning and some old Chinese party background music, like the ones my dad used to have in his cassette collection. The place was so fucking dark; I couldn't even see my own hands in front of me. A waiter led the way with his flash light; I sat on one of tall stool at the bar. As my pupils starts to widen more, I begin to see the interior of that place.

The bar counter was just an ordinary tall wooden platform with no beer tap but it was filled with beer mugs, drinks coasters and ash trays. Behind the counter was a really dirty looking sink that is filled with dirty dishes that looks like it had never been clear for a long-long time. Next to the sink was a really old school stainless steel refrigerator; the last time I seen one of these antiques was when I was in primary school; the top half of the 2 door refrigerator was a glass door which you can see through, there were endless bottles of beer in it and at the top most part were some leftover food which I reckon should belong to one of the employee in this fine establishment. The bottom half of the refrigerator had a solid non-see-through door which I think is where all the ice was kept. I was never a big fan of beer, in fact I hated that shit and beer swelling is definitely not my strong point. But the only drink that they serve here is either piss or fucking beer; I had no choice but to order the smallest bottle of piss. No I mean beer. The bartender came back with my order - a bottle of Tiger, an un-chilled beer mug and a small dirty red plastic basin filled with ice. At first I wonder what the basin of ice was for but as soon as I tasted the beer, I knew immediate what it was for. The beer was warm and so I guessed the ice is to chill the beer but being such a shallow and small red basin, it would take ages to chill the beer. So I look to my left and right, to see what the others do with it and I found out that, the small plastic basin wasn't there to soak your beer bottle but it was to carry the ice for your consumption. Judging from the germ infested condition of the red basin and the first class hygiene of this fine establishment, I thought to myself, I should have ordered piss than beer.

Trying to keep my mind off the piss warm and not to mention disgusting taste of the beer, I divert my attention to my surrounding. As I look around this bar, there wasn't much people around, the high tables and high stools were mostly empty; there was a couple of ladies and waiters around, some sitting down, some standing and some playing with their cell phone. On the far end of the bar, there were booths arranged in a row which I couldn't see through because it was still very dark. The thing that was between the outside and the inside of the booth was some kind of a curtain that was made out of shinny beads. But every time as someone came out of the toilet which was located behind, the toilet lights shine in and I could roughly see those booth were not empty; the beads curtain didn't fully cover the whole door way into the booth. I could see people's ankle and almost all the booth was filled with people. Later I found out that those were private/love booths and there is where most of the patrons like to go in; there is also where all the action takes place. How do I know about it? Well, because before the night ended I was in one of them booth, getting my face pressed against some boobies.

But before I go into what happened inside that booth, let me take you a few moments backwards before that.  A lady,  Bob hair-style, dressed in a tight white tank top and short jeans came up to me; She was petite but with fucking breasts that could easily fucking feed 10 -15 famished infant; her bra was dark in color but I couldn't really make out the actual color but I am very sure it was the laced type because the lace pattern was pressed all over her super tight tank top. I couldn't see her face clearly but I would say it was kinda pleasant looking. If I were to guess her age, I would say she is probably 25 years old at most but then again she could be 35 or maybe 15, one just simply doesn't walk in a sleazy bar and guessed the fucking age of the girls there with accuracy. I am pretty sure she didn't wear any perfume because the only scent was the smell of talcum powder on her. I knew she was a Thai without even asking ; if you have been to a Japanese lounge or KTVs, you would know that Thai girls has this distinct high pitch voice, her voice immediately gave her nationality away. And this is how I was approached by a girl called "Noi"

I am tired now but my little tale isn't finished yet and I haven"t really gone to the part of what happened in that dirty little booth. So I promise as long as I still draw breath, I will continue this shit in my next post.