The statement was issued by a few men and women claiming to be from the Bolehland Ministry of Health wearing lab coats. Members of the press present during the press conference were thoroughly convinced of their credibility when the post-tea break press conference had a tea break halfway through the presentation of their findings.

A credible expert with a lab coat

According to the double-spaced 57-page report, Mr Potatohead had been showing several signs associated with Idiocitis for the past few years. The experts have reason to believe that the PM himself has no knowledge of his condition, due to the fact that one major symptom of Idiocitis is that the victim is oblivious to everything that happens around him, much less the nation itself.

“You can see that the disease has started to eat him completely. The nation is suffering from many crippling issues yet Mr Potatohead publicly announces that the country is booming and soaring to great heights. He also trumpets his achievement of giving out plenty of monetary goodies to the people without understanding that the amount would probably be only enough to buy a month’s supply of tuna and toilet fragrances for a family of 4”, said an expert that had thick-rimmed glasses that made him look important.

Sources have also confirmed that the Prime Minister has no frickin’ idea about the effects of statements that he makes on public events and how he expects himself to be seen as a PM for all citizens of Bolehland after uttering them. Examples include endorsing a bunch of old farts waving a traditional dagger to be the 37^th line of defense for Bolehland when a group of protesters were mobilizing to march on the streets of Bolehland’s capital demanding for common sense in the nation’s electoral process. Another example has him completely mum on the actions of certain right-wing groups demanding the continuation of a 300-year-old policy that allows members of a certain race to sit in the board of a company without doing anything while enjoying 30% of the profits and also obtain a 7% discount on housing prices.

Random big house picture that is entitled for 7% discount. Random.

Despite claims from his cabinet members that the Mr Pinklips Potatohead has gone off to diplomatic meetings around the world, the guys in the lab coat claim the opposite: that the PM is being secretly brought to see health specialists around the world in hopes of being cured of his condition and resume a normal life.

“The man has Idiocitis. He would have no frickin’ idea whether he’s meeting the President of the United States or the President of Ramly Burger.”

When approached, his deputy, Mr Moo Moo had declined to comment on the condition of his boss, but then went on a 25-minute monologue on him being a dickwad first, a Bolehlander second. Unfortunately our on-site journalist died of multiple continuous yawning during the monologue, so we are unable to provide our readers with the full text.

We at My Seed Stories wish the PM of Bolehland a speedy recovery (if a cure exists).

Related posts:

1. Change Your Lifestyle – Being Screwed In Bolehland

So what exactly did our famous Malaysians say when asked to comment on the cow and condo issue?

Tun Madey – How do you expect Malays to hold on to power if every single person talks about cows?

Jibby – This is in line with the government’s effort to provide more freedom to the people and cows of Malaysia.

Tsu Koon - My thoughts are the same with the PM, as always. But more importantly, I’m pulling out of the next election. It’s a big sacrifice on my part.

Mooyiddin – Why are you asking me? You should be asking the cowherd.

Rid T – As Malays, we eat lots of beef. Thus it is simple logic that the cows be allowed to do what they want.

Ibbit Ali – This… thisss… this is not a cow nor a condo issue! You Indians don’t eat beef so you are trying to play this up! And it is all because of that Ambiga woman!  Don’t think we can’t see through your lies. We will defend this country before we lose all political power!

CSL – Yes, it was me in that condo. That cow was a very dear personal friend of mine. No more questions.

Saifool – The condo was at a secret location. I went there, and the cow put its penis inside my anus.

Nazri – There is no evidence linking the cows and Saifool.

yoRais - This is the best cow business I have ever chanced upon, since I became a minister. The best ever.

Pak Lah – The minister and her husband are more than capable of handl…… ZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Anwar – This is a deliberate attempt made in bad faith, to swindle the monies of the Malaysian people.

Kinabatangan Bigfoot – The minister should resign. And handover the condo as dowry for my wedding.

Khairy – Well, it’s like this. It’s made to look like an escrow account but it’s not. It belongs to the class of “principle-accounts” held under the cow farm bearing interests to the board but not the shareholder, who actually gain an empirical profit from the investment in real-estate based on the mutually exclusive dividends paid out by the buyers of the meat in return for a high quality product. Any schoolkid can understand this simple explanation.

Ali Ketam – We’re drawing up laws against homosexual cows. Just in case.

MACC – The cows will be called up for questioning at the 15th floor of the condominium complex tomorrow. No further comments.

JAKIM – There’s pig DNA in the cows.

Ambiga – Cows can have condos but  regular Malaysians are suffering in the street. If cows can have civil liberties, why can’t we Malaysian citizens have them?!

Guan Eng – Penang has already achieved the national target of producing premium beef at half the cost and manpower. And we have free WiFi at our abattoirs.

Bik Mama – The feedlot didn’t achieve it’s target because it didn’t use green technology. But we have been able to make quality handbags from cow foreskins.

Keng Liang – I thank the PM for his hard work in ensuring that the 1Malaysia citizens are provided with high quality 1Malaysia beef from the 1Malaysia cows. Truly a PM for everyone. 1Malaysia.

Namewee – Cheebai lanjiao cows! Lu ingat senang ah mau bikin feedlot lepas itu kasi buang duit dalam longkang? Pukimak lu lah!

How about those people who are a bit more… well… closer to the ground?

@syahredzan – Lembu? Siapa? Siapa? Siapa kau panggil lembu?

@myy085 – Hatta apa sekalipun yang diperkatakan, daging lembu di Miri yang paling best sekali.

@superredpatek – I promise to give you premium cuts of beef if you vote for me to be the TJ Youth Chief.

@youtiup – Cina mau makan lembu harini.

@aidasue – Hi uols! Jangan lupa, #twtupLembu Ahad ini!

@kennleandre – Stupid cows. #Ha.

@shakirameer – We mamaks make a lot of money with selling nasi kandar, man. I’m don’t give a fuck about where does the beef come from.

@tashny – Fuck. Staying up late night to do this article on cows. Cibai la!

@spinzer – All right guys! Crowdsource RM3000 (using small donations of RM5 – RM10) to buy a cow for my 27th birthday!

@anthraxxxx – Fucking cows and condos! Whose fucking money these fuckers think they’re spending? Cibai lah. Just like the Melaka MRT.

@patrickteoh – Niamah. I also wanna farm cows.

@limmengkeong – Gua hari ini tak nak cakap pasal lembu pasal sudah lama isu ini didebatkan. Hari ini, gua nak cakap pasal laksa Penang.

@pualdidan – Melayu International tak makan daging lembu Malaysia.

@obefiend – Meleis complainng aboit peoplw complaining abput feedlot. Bangang kau pun bayar tax jugak kan? Fucjing ignorant asshols.

@bongkersz – HUUUUAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!! What fucking cows? pffffft!

@kavilan – Bored. MIC cows quiet on timeline.

This post was written in collaboration with @bongkersz. Inspiration was from his article titled Malaysian politicians & famous people on #themissingrmafengine

If you have any suggestions for future topics, please put them in the comments section below.

No related posts.

It was Friday, 8^th of July. Packing lightly, my friend dropped me off at work. I was nervous and excited the whole day as Twitter was buzzing with the main topic being the proposed Bersih 2.0 Rally on the next day. When my working hours were over, I walked from my office to the Bukit Jalil LRT station and headed towards the Bandaraya LRT station.

The air was calm, almost too calm. My fellow passengers sat down and looked at each other and smiled. I didn’t know who was for Bersih, and who wasn’t. Upon reaching my destination, I checked into my hotel along with Padma, Jo Ling and a bunch of other activists. This hotel was very near to Sogo. Raaja joined me in my room sometime later at night and we prepared ourselves with talks on how to handle possible agent provocateurs in the rally and making jokes about certain pea-brained politicians to ease the growing sense of worry. Truth be told, we were all scared and do not know what’s going to happen on Saturday. Tweets were already circulating on how the police were raiding hotel rooms looking for Bersih supporters.

9^th July 2011. We woke up early to have breakfast and we ate while whispering to each other the plans of the day. Some people who newly followed me on Twitter asked me where I was and what was my plan – I couldn’t breathe a word of it because you’d never know who’s that person really – it could be those freakin’ cybertroopers or worse, Special Branch moles. I kept with neutral answers and by then it was 10am and time to move out.

We came out the hotels in parties of two and naturally, Raaja was with me. We headed out of the hotel and walked around a bit, to survey the situation. Police has started cordoning off the streets and instructing the public to move away from their barricades.

And herein comes the most comical moment of the whole episode. Knowing that we stuck out like sore thumbs in an area filled with Arabian and Indian nationals, we headed into Haniffa Textiles and into the saree department. We each bought a saree (even though I am single and available) from the clearance bin and walked out of the building. Our plan was to tell the cops (if they stopped us) that we’re here in KL shopping for a wedding and the saree was proof. **facepalm of the highest order**

Thank you, Mr. Haniffa!

We followed an Indian family (they looked like tourists) until we were behind Sogo, and then we managed to get to the Bandaraya LRT Station. We boarded the train and got down at Plaza Rakyat then proceeded to walk towards Central Market. It was there when I planked on the sidewalk (coz I promised Bong and Bumi that I’d do it).

Taxpayers' money! YEAHHH!!!

Planking - Indian style (Hands out in front)

Just before we reached Central Market, I called Adzliyana (Yan) and found out that a bigger group was having drinks at the Cafe Petaling in Swiss Hotel. So Raaja and I backtracked and Yan was there to wave at me excitedly. I just burst into a big smile as I saw Yvonne, Aiyook, Zul, Fathi, Ahmad, Patrick Loh,  Naim, and Raja there. I also met a bunch of new friends there (I’m sorry I couldn’t remember your names here, peeps).

I had a drink and spent some time exchanging racial stereotype jokes with the boys (as usual) and we laughed around, trying to mask our shaky knees as knew the hour of reckoning is close at hand. We then started moving along Petaling Street till we reached the crossroads of Jalan Sultan and Jalan Petaling. That’s when we saw a group of lawyers in suits walking and we followed behind them, straight along Jalan Petaling.

We reached the junction to enter Jalan Stadium and were greeted by a police blockade, complete with barbed wire. The lawyers began to engage the police while Yan, Fathi, Ahmad, Naim and I planked (in defiance of the cops) while Yvonne took a picture (at the time of writing, it got more than 7000 views).

Mass Planking

Yan then suggested we move towards Kg Atap and so we did. We sneaked into a stall to have some drinks and plan our next move once we saw a Federal Reserve Unit (FRU) truck parked there. That’s when Puvanan joined us. After refreshing ourselves, we moved back to the barricade at Jalan Stadium and stood with the crowd contemplating our next move. We then decided to move back to Jalan Petaling when we spotted a huge crowd there.

Twitter updates informed us that Cental Market was under siege by the cops and this only made our resolve stronger. We converged with the crowd and moved into Jalan Sultan towards Jalan Pudu where the Maybank building stood. Out of nowhere, people began joining us from alleyways and before we knew it, we were inside a large crowd moving towards the Maybank building. Zul unfurled his Sarawak flag and we marched on as the crowd cheered “BERSIH! BERSIH!”. The atmosphere was electric, to say the least.

It was then when I got my first taste of the tear gas. Loud bangs were heard and I saw the canisters fall into the crowd about 100 metres away. That was enough to bring a sting to my eyes but I managed to brush off the effects with a bit of water. The crowd didn’t let up, though.  We pushed on into Jalan Pudu and spirits were still high. I got separated from everyone but I managed to rejoin Puvanan and Raaja.

It was then when another barrage of tear gas was fired into the crowd but I was too far behind to feel the effects. Shout of BERSIH, Reformasi, Bersihkan Pilihanraya were going on non-stop. The tear gas made the crowd disperse for about 5 minutes before they converged back and continued chanting. I was feverishly tweeting the updates and sending a couple of snapshots to share.

Can you give me directions to Merdeka Stadium please?

Then we sang Negaraku and my heart was beating fast. No because of the fear, but because of the camaraderie. The marshals were  there managing the crowd and we were in high spirits. When I turned around, Aiyook was standing right beside me and I hadn’t noticed! We started cheering and the crowd was relentless as well. Then it started drizzling and that’s when we thought, THANK GOD! Now the tear gas wouldn’t have any effect!

The rain then slowly started to become heavier and from nowhere,  Padma and Jo Ling were there! We hugged and congratulated each other and started to move deeper into Jalan Pudu, towards Berjaya Times Square. Then I heard the crowd cheering and I turned around to see my friend Vickna pushing a wheelchair. And in that wheelchair, sat none other than Irene Fernandez! With permission, I took her picture and tweeted it. Looking at her, there on a wheelchair, braving the weather and the tear gas with fellow Malaysians, gave me a huge boost and lifted my spirits sky high.

Shades. Never out of style.

Then the rain fell hard, and I had to store my phone away in a plastic case. At that time, I was near the Tung Shin Hospital carpark building. Quite timely, as it was then when another barrage of tear gas and chemical water spray fell. This time the gas hit me hard. Smoke all around me, and a brush of chemical water on my back. My eyes were almost blind from the tears and I couldn’t breathe in or out. My lungs had spasms and I was coughing uncontrollably. I lost my friends and I was running aimlessly.

It was then when I reached a pillar some distance away and leaned onto it, all the while coughing and gagging. Someone shoved a bottle of 100Plus mixed with salt into my hand and shouted “MINUM! MINUM! Kasi pass around!!!” (Drink it! And pass it around!)

I took three gulps of it and my energy returned. I could breathe and the rain helped wash off the sting. A good Samaritan was holding out a bag of salt and shouted “GARAAAAMMMM!!!! GARAAAAAMMMMM!!!”. I walked up to him and grabbed a pinch of salt to eat. Just as he appeared, he vanished into the disoriented crowd, helping others in need.

By the time I found Puvanan and Raaja, they were safe. Puvanan and I put our phones in plastic and into Raaja’s bag. It was right after that when another round of tear gas was fired and the crowd panicked. I ran with Puvanan and Raaja got split up from the group. We saw the police spraying chemical water into the car park building.

Then the rain stopped. The crowd was segregated. A old man, dressed in plain white tee and slacks and a white skullcap looked at me and said, “Kita ni bukan orang Malaysia ke? Salah ke kita tuntut pilihanraya bebas?” (Aren’t we all Malaysians? Is it wrong for us to demand free elections?)

By then Puvanan and I took some time to catch our breath at the Chinese Maternity Hospital carpark. There, we met YB Ravi (ADUN Port Dickson) and YB Sivakumar (ex Perak State Assembly Speaker). The situation appeared calm so Puvanan and I went back to the roads where YB Sivarasa Rasiah was engaging the police. Once done, he came to us and addressed up on the update.

It seemed that the police had relented and allowed us to march, on the condition that it is done peacefully and only on one side of the road. We were all squatting there, listening to him while the members of Unit Amal PAS were all around passing the info and keeping order. There, Puvanan and I met Durai and Danny and we were elated.

Our Muslim brethren performing their solat outside a church. (Photo by Danny Kumar)

The sun began to shine brightly. The crowd began to gather back. Danny read out a report from Malaysiakini saying that we’d be allowed to march. Three guys behind us, dressed in long sleeve shirts, black slacks and leather shoes, were too reading out some positive news. We were jubilant. That’s when the most horrifying scene struck.

The police shot tear gas at the gathered crowd. Puvanan, Danny, Durai and I, along with countless other, ran helter-skelter. It was all so sudden. We felt cheated. They fired WITHOUT warning. They made us gather and they screwed us big time. Expletives were heard. I cussed as I ran towards the Chinese Maternity Hospital car park. I managed to see the police chase the front-liners and beat them before arresting them.

It was there that I saw probably the most epic act at the rally. As I was running past the gates of the hospital, I saw two tear gas canisters hurtling towards me from the skies. By the time they landed, I was already some distance away. Out of nowhere, this brave guy ran towards it with a yellow cloth. While running, he bent down and wet the cloth in a puddle of water, then proceeded to wrap the canister with the cloth and diffuse it. Another guy did the same thing with another canister and threw it down the drain. It was freakin’ awesome!!!

I kept on running towards the car park. The other 3 who were with me were already ahead. I struggled to get to the end. There was a small hill there and my fellow rally goers were clamouring up the hill for safety. I was too.

See that look on my face at the bottom left? It means "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?" (Photo by Danny Kumar)

The hill was slippery and muddy. Danny and Durai were already ahead due to their slim physiques and Puvanan followed behind me. We grabbed whatever we could to hold on. Women, men, young and old were all there. We climbed slowly. At one point, I reached out to grab a shrub and was greeted by a cactus plant. Yes folks, my palm was pricked by dozens of sharp needles. That was the adrenaline rush I needed to boost my climbing speed.

I slipped twice. Puvanan managed to get ahead of me and lend me a hand. And other hands reached out to pull me and push me. I dragged myself up to find Danny and Durai at the top, helping the other climbers up. I was panting and out of breath when I reached the top, and surprise surprise, Yan was right in front of me. Thank God she escaped as well.

I leaned on a lamp post and waited for Danny and Durai to finish helping the other climbers. It took some time for the adrenaline to wear down and for me to catch my breath. People already started to move ahead. Yan called to me, asking me to come but I said I’ll wait and I needed a rest. Danny, Durai and Puvanan joined soon after and we started walking along Persiaran Raja Chulan.

While walking, an middle-aged woman looked at me and asked “Kita ni kat Malaysia ke, negara lain hah?” (Are we at Malaysia or some other country?). I could not hide my disappointment and said “Saya tak tahu lah, Kak. Saya tak faham dengan ni semua…” (I don’t know, sister. I do not understand all this…)

We reached a T-junction and turned right into Jalan Raja Chulan and decided to head to KLCC. We made a pit-stop at a Shell Petrol Station along the way and I recharged myself with a Red Bull. Our shoes and socks were all soggy and I developed a slight limp due to blisters in both my feet. Durai asked us not to sit too long and we continued walking. Along with us were other rally-goers as well.

Halfway there, I met Steven Ng. After exchanging pleasantries  and telling him that I’m headed to KLCC, we parted ways. We pressed on and reached Suria KLCC via Jalan P.Ramlee. We called Raaja and he said he was pushed back from KLCC to Ampang Park by the FRU. Fearing that there was nothing more we could do, we sat at the bus stand opposite Suria KLCC.

A few FRU trucks raced pass us, then made a U-Turn and parked at the road opposite us. Then, a vehicle I had never seen before appeared. A large blue trailer bore down the road, bearing the letters PDRM (Polis Di-Raja Malaysia). On the back, emblazoned in red, was AWAS: KUDA (BEWARE: HORSES).

The back of the trailer opened and about 7 horses were brought down. FRU members got on the horses, and lined them up for a inspection. An officer brought long beating sticks and handed one each to the riders. I immediately feared that there were going to be used to chase down the protesters and beat them. The horses took off, and I do not know what transpired next.

Who's in charge of the horse droppings? (Photo by Danny Kumar)

I don't wanna know what they'll do with those sticks (Photo by Danny Kumar)

Since there was nothing else to do, we decided to go back home. Raaja had already managed to get into an LRT and was headed to Puvanan’s home. We walked to the Raja Chulan Monorail Station since the KLCC LRT Station was closed off. We headed back to KL Sentral and while walking outside the enclosed area where buses used to wait, we smelled the unmistakable smell of tear gas. The residue was enough to make our throats feel irritated. We then parted company with Danny and Durai at KL Sentral while Puvanan and I took the LRT back to his apartment. We met up with Raaja and he returned my phone safe and sound.

Puvanan then sent me to another station where my housemate picked me up. Upon stopping the car, he rolled down the window and shouted “SALUUUUTTTTEEE MACHAAAAAAAAAAA!”. I just smiled.

I went to out to dinner at 10pm with friends and Karthi was there as well. We both exchanged “war stories” with them and they listened intently. It was a proud moment. They could not come due to various reasons, but I know their hearts and spirit were with us, the yellow fellows, from Day One.

My friends called me up to say that they were proud of me. I was proud of myself. Whatever happens from here on in, I am proud to say that I played a small part in wanting to bring a change to my beloved country, Malaysia.

The humanity involved lifted me. There is still hope for Malaysia. We are able to look beyond race, age, gender and skin colour. We are able to help someone in need. We are able to be tolerant. We are not as divided as THEY want us to be. I saw the good in people today. I saw us being UNITED to the cause, and I saw us wanting change. It was to safeguard our future, and for our children. We shall prevail.

Malaysian first, Malaysian second, Malaysian always.

================================

My thanks goes out to the thousands who attended this rally, and the ones who weren’t here in person but in spirit, wishing us well. Thank you to Unit Amal Pas for coordinating and lending a helping hand whenever one needed it. Thank you to the guy who gave me salt and that bottle of 100Plus. Thanks to the people who lifted me up when I slipped at the hill. Thanks to the Bar Council members who represented all the arrested protesters. Thanks to the admin of the @Bersih2 handle for propagating news for all of us.

Lawyers in style. When I grow up, I wanna dress like that.

Keep looking, people. We're bound to find the PM somewhere (Photo by Danny Kumar)

... and they said shops will lose business coz of the rally. (Photo by Danny Kumar)

You know you don't mess with a man wearing a headdress. (Photo by Danny Kumar)

YOU... SHALL... NOT... PASS!!!! (Photo by Danny Kumar)

Thank you, Malaysians.

My condolences to the family of Baharuddin bin Ahmad. The man gave his life while fighting for righteousness and something that he believed in. God bless his soul.

I ramble on twitter a lot. You may reach me at @kavilan 

No related posts.

I look back at my life and I see myself being screwed by the government at every single turn. Sure, some of you might say that I’m unappreciative of all the good things provided by the government like toasted bread and chili sauce. I don’t give a hoot. All I see is myself and a good few million of us being screwed left, right and center. We’re so used to this rape that we’ve kinda feel that it’s a normal phase in life.

Let me begin during all those school years. It’s no surprise our education system, by itself, manages to shape our fresh, young brains at the age of 7 into a putty of useless, spoon-fed goo which is poisoned by government propaganda by the time we’re 17. That’s 11 years of numbing your minds into becoming flocking zombies. When I came out of school, I was a vociferous government supporter. Of course, all my knowledge came from our local textbooks.

During our school days, we’re lead to believe that we must follow the flock. Finish school, do your tertiaries, get a job, get a house, get a family, die. Repeat process with your children. School going children tend to spend hundreds of ringgit per month going for tuition classes when the actual work was supposed to be done in school. What kind of a fucking life for children where you spend half your day studying and spending less time for recreational activities which are indeed very very important? They spend 4-5 hours at school, then another 2-3 hours at tuition classes, then a few more hours doing homework for both school and tuition? What’s the fucking point of sending children to public schools then? And yet we have those eggheads saying that our education system is not problematic.

Our education system is THIS big

So we finish 11 years of this nonsense, get good grades at the public examinations, and we’re faced with a whole new conundrum. College, university, and the likes. Okay here is where the stick is slowly being put up your arse. If you’re prepared for another 2 years in school, you can try to score well in the following public examinations, get into a local public university (most probably doing the course you have absolutely no interest in), take a minimal education loan, and get out with a degree. You be well into your mid-twenties by then, probably holding a degree you absolutely never knew existed.

Else you could opt for a private college and take a massive loan to study what you want to study, and graduate with an Honours degree coupled with a RM 50,000 debt the day you receive your scroll. Sweet.

Of course, if you’re financed by your extremely wealthy parents or won a scholarship provided by the government or were lucky enough to be given the course of your choice at the university of your choice or just a plain ‘ol lazy fellar who just wants to stay at home, you’re slightly less screwed then most of us here.

It's not as bad as it looks

So here I am, like most of you guys reading this, standing here, in my mid-twenties, holding in my hand a degree which was totally useless the moment I stepped out into the working world and also being in debt to the sum of, you guessed it, RM 50,000.

I wonder why do we have to take massive loans to get an education, then of course get a job to pay back the loans, while leaving very little for us to spend on ourselves. Of course if you don’t get your certificate saying that you didn’t spend that many credit hours impressing a lecturer you didn’t even like, you don’t get to have a job in most places. Ironically, the last thing they do in most interviews is look at your damn cert.  Now, in order to gain more money to pay off your loans, you need a better paying job, meaning you need better qualifications. What do you do then? Scrimp off your savings or take another loan to do your postgraduate studies while living of Maggi Mee and the mushrooms that grow on that rotten piece of wood on your backyard. Yes, a vicious cycle that we drones readily participate in.

Your breakfast, lunch & dinner for the next few years

By the time you know it, it’s time for you to start a life with the woman/man you love and therein lies the other big headache. Wedding expenses don’t come cheap and you’d be probably willing to sell your soul just for that one-day fancy dress event. Worse still if you’re Indian, like me. Then it’s time to buy a place of residence. Hey ho there, time to pay the bank a visit for another loan! You then sell your soul, car and pet cockatoo to the bank and continue to pay off the mortgages for another 20 years.

CEO of most financial corporations

Now, after all this mega shit-fest, the fucking government has the cheek to say, CHANGE YOUR LIFESTYLE? My lifestyle has already been screwed mercilessly over and over and over again by your nonsensical policies and public fund wastage. I will be spending my life paying off debts. There’s little room for me to enjoy plenty of comfort. I’m not exactly driving a Mercedes that massages by buttocks while I drive. I drive a fucking Proton Iswara which gives me backaches on long drives because I cannot afford anything better since the whole system has made me a slave to it.

So, my fellow Malaysians, do not opt to change your lifestyle. CHANGE YOUR GOVERNMENT. Ptuiiii!!!!

Related posts:

1. Bolehland PM Suspected To Be Terminally Ill With Idiocitis

Playing with memes is a fun thing to do. What more can I do when a by-election is looming, and political parties are full of drama? I’ve always loved to poke fun on Malaysian politics. I wonder whether will foreigners actually be laughing at us for all the shenanigans that we conjure.

There are many famous memes here, like Courage Wolf, High-Expectations Asian Dad,  Chris Crocker, Kanye West, King Leonidas and finally, my absolute favourite person to make fun of in the whole planet: Adolf Hitler.

Related posts:

1. Malaysian Memes – Sepol & ‘Nuar
2. 5 Seedy Reasons You Should Vote In The Next Election
3. The Cows and The Condo

Johnny Inggebish had gone through a lot in his life. He had been a great champion of rights for his people. They adored him, or at least provided him the illusion that they adored him. Not that it matters to him. It had taken a lot outta him to be here, at this place. A few more years, a decade at most, and he’ll be the one looking down at all the others. All those years of hard work; all those years of snaking his way in and out, is now under threat of going to waste. All because of a set of documents presented to him in a language he is unable to read in. And the people were demanding for an immediate answer. By not being able to comprehend the report, he’d look like a total idiot.

Being an idiot isn’t cool.

Beads of sweat formed on Johnny Inggebish’s forehead. How is he going to get out of this pickle? This isn’t some issue that he could throw a smokescreen and make a dash for it. His name is stapled to the issue now since he’s the man-in-charge for this whole agenda. There’s only one thing for him to do now. The report’s findings shall not come out, whichever side it favours. The plan began to form slowly.

Johnny Inggebish buzzed his secretary and told her to put forward a request to his boss. He needed all the warlords to agree to this. There’s no other way. He then waited. He knew the big kahuna wouldn’t dare waste time on this matter. Something important for the whole team was coming up, and they need a good leverage. This would be it.

The call came soon enough. The meeting was scheduled tomorrow. Johnny Inggebish sneered. Enough time to prepare his whopper. He slept soundly that night, even managing to enjoy some Dom Perignon before victory was even proclaimed. The man had enough cheek to act so confidently.

The next day

Johnny Inggebish looked at the assembly around him. Time to start the propaganda, he thought to himself. He lifted the documents that were given to him yesterday. He cursed the foreign language. He told his comrades about how foreigners are still burrowing into the country’s young minds and trying to colonize them with television and T-shirts and cars and most importantly, their language. This foreign language must be killed off instantly. He drilled into their heads regarding scientific terms and mathematical equations being the mind-control mechanism of the foreign invaders.

Foreign languages sound funny. They also turn you into sexy blue cat-like people

Johnny Inggebish smiled to himself. He thought to himself about how stupid his “comrades” are. They didn’t know that he doesn’t know how to read the foreign language. That was his plan. He needed to demonize all foreign languages so that his shortcomings would be excused. They failed to see that it wasn’t about national integrity or unity or any of those off-key issues. It was about him. Him alone. Johnny Inggebish’s plan was, if he couldn’t understand the language, then no one else would. And since his plan to get to the top would only come into fruition ina decade or so, he needed the younger generation to be as oblivious as he is now. It is much easier to rule ignoramuses, he thought. Nowadays, EVERYTHING is political.

Johnny Inggebish looked up. He then spoke in his native language.

“Saya menyarankan agar PPSMI dimansuhkan dan kita kembali kepada pembelajaran dalam Bahasa Melayu. Anda setuju atau tidak, sidang kabinet?“

“SETUJUUUUU!!!!!“, came the deafening approval.

This post was taken from my older blog. I felt it was relevant because there a lot of nuts on Twitter speaking terrible Inggebish. What’s worse is that they almost always misunderstand tweets from other people due to their inability to comprehend a simple sentence structured in 140 characters. How dumb can you get?

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1) It makes you look cool
Voting is the “in” thing right now. Just like how emo fuckers were queing up to slit their wrists to attract attention a few years ago. Go ask any civil-minded youth out there whether they voted in the last election or not. Most likely if they have, or at least registered, AND you’ve done neither of them, you’ll be the worst kinda guy to be talking to. “You haven’t voted? You didn’t even register??? Hmmmmm” would be the average response, followed by the average look that translates into “What a fucking douche…..”. Everyone does it. So why don’t you? It’s far less dangerous than taking heroin up your arse.

They love him more than you, cause he VOTED

2) You’re nobody’s bitch
Voting asserts your right that you want someone to represent you, and they better damn well do their job, else you’d be marking someone’s else’s name on the ballot paper next term. If you forgo your right to be represented, it means you don’t mind being told what to do. In short, the party which wins will be the one with the whip and you’ll be the one bending over getting fucked. And it means you love being somebody’s bitch. Non-voters have no right to complain as they didn’t take part in the challenge to steer our society.

You can choose to be this…

or THIS.

3) Your ass is on the line
Especially if you’re the so-called youth of the nation. The term “youth” here is defined loosely here, because many political parties have youth wings with 40-50 year old members. Anyways, any country policy made today will affect you and your children and their children (and possibly some illegitimate children along the way). If you’re unhappy and want things to change, you should vote. Not sit in the coffeeshop with your low-life friends who are just like you and bitch about the rising prices of sex toys. Go out, vote, and goddamnit show the world that you’ll never pay more than RM 100 for a blow-up doll! Go get ‘em, tiger! (PS: Wash your hands before you vote)

Another victim of rising prices in Malaysia

4) It is your duty as a citizen
There are people in other countries who would fight and die for the right to vote. For that, you must exercise your duty to vote. It is also your duty to keep idiots from running our country. Each and every motherfucker who did not vote, did not perform their duty to serve this country. As a direct result of this (in)action, dumbasses like yoRais and ZamZam Alakazam humiliated our country in the eyes of the world. A monkey wit half a nut could’ve performed better. You non-voters made other Malaysians look like a bunch of people who are worse than a monkey with half a nut. Jeez.

5) Don’t let your child blame you for being negligent
Imagine this: your 21-yr old son/daughter comes up to you one day and asks you, “Dad/Mom, there’s so many problems affecting our country. Why didn’t your generation do anything about it?“. And you answer in typical douchebaggery fashion “Child, I was busy minding my own business. All of it was none of my concern.“. And your child replies back “So you and your pussy generation just laid back and watched our country crumble. Thank you, fucktard“. Then you get a door slammed to your face. Trust me, being called a “fucktard” by your kid seriously poses questions about your character. It’s like PERKOSA telling you to be tolerant to races. Don’t let that happen.

Unrelated picture: Another reason for your kid calling you a fucktard

Get up, stand up. Stand up for your right – Bob “Ganja” Marley

To register as a voter, just go to the Post Office, and instead of sending the mail order for your blow-up doll, you can also REGISTER in the electorate. Just bring your IC. You can get more information on the Election Commission Malaysia’s ugly-ass website.

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