WARNING: This post is immensely insensitive and offensive!!

Disclaimer: If you suffer from "taking-everything-personally syndrome", can't take a joke or have certain complexities about being chastised; it’s advisable to seek professional counselling before continuing on.

Now.. I am not bullshitting the slightest bit. But if you do start reading this post, I urge you to do so till the end.

Today’s topic is “two types”.

You know that wildly popular and overused phrase in movies and t.v shows that characters use to make a dramatic point..

It goes something like this..

“There’s two types of people in the world… stupid people who follow the herd, and smart people who control the herd.. so which one are you boy?”

Or like one of my favorite hairstyle designer, Einstein’s quotes :

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

Hope this clears you a bit about today’s topic “two types”. if you’re still lost, I recommend you watch more t.v or ask a close trusted non-molesty adult to explain to you slowly with visual aids. Let’s start.

  There are two types of wines.. red ones.. and white ones.

  Red: I am scientifically proven to be good for your heart.

  White: I taste like stale armpit-flavored beer, good at giving  
  you nasty hang-overs… and pregnant!

 HEHEHHEHEAHEHEheheheheh.....

  There are two types of Indians...

  Those who own a currency exchange shop

   And those who own a casino.

   Two types of Chinese people..

             Those who can't dance...                      and those who make silly
                                                                                    dances popular

   Two types of Malays..

Those who try real hard to convince others their not typical

  and those who sell ayam penyet.

  There are two types of Caucasians..

   Those who are annoying when drunk

          and those who are overly friendly when drunk

There are two types of Mexicans..

 hot ones... (some of you might recognise her, and if you do.. your secret is safe with me ;) *winks.)

 and those with mustaches

There are two types of African American people...

   Those who address you starting with "Hello, how are
   you today?" 

and those who address you starting with "HEY YO WAZZAPPPpp DAWWGGgg!!!"

 There are two types of Arabs.. 

        The misguided closet horn-dog

  and the ones that inherit riches from their dads

If you have a sense of humor and are chuckling to yourself, you will agree that it’s funny not because I’m the lousiest artist since saber-tooth raping cavemen; but there are some truths for all races. 

This post was some what inspired by a case a few months back involving a certain Cmy Aong (real name not used to protect identity of those involved) and the over zealous responses to her rant.  

This is my take (mind you i am not a profesional thinker or philosopher), truth is.. we are all fucked up.. me.. you.. your mom.. the morning bus driver.. a scholar.. a politician.. a chief in a massive,  reputable organisation.. a student..  a plumber.. a model.. the list goes on.

But at the same time, these same people (including you and me and yes.. your mom) have showed great feats of concern, love, care, sympathy, empathy and so much more on more than one occasion.

We all have the ability to love and hate. 

And to me in that sense, we are perfect and imperfect in our own ways.. its the balance of both that makes us human. make sense??

So lets abolish racism, love more, smile and get along.

P.S. I dont know about you but if the Mayans were right, ill rather spend my last days fucking then fighting. allrighty psychos! till the day I'm not lazy as roadkill and feel inspirational... stay silly.  :D

Inanimate Objects

Sorry psychos! its been a stretch of a long time. But fret not, kim o kimmmy is here to once again save you from a smile-less day. HURRAH!! lets welcome back joy in our lives!

Today's post is about what and how everyday stuff; if like in the cartoon Beauty And The Beast could talk, feel and react; what would they say?

Urinals

Motorbikes

Chairs

Soccer Balls

The Sun 

Matchstick 

Tempons

Keyboard

The hospital Pick up

The hospital pick up


During the few months before i was gonna ORD, We pretty much had a lot of spare time. On most occasions, we would play scissors-paper-stone in our bunks and gossip like little girls or head outdoors and have an intense game of street soccer.




We were having a friendly game within my own platoon mates on a humid sunny day. Everyone was  having fun, cheering for their friends, jeering at some for the fun it. Our warren officer Fran was there to loosen his half-rigid legs.


I was the goal keeper, my buddy Stone was the striker on the opposing team. Fran was also on the opposing team. Fran did a terrific dribble, snaked through one of my team mate, pulled his right leg back and walloped the ball hurling toward my direction. 

Good thing the ball zoomed way over my head and flew out of the boundaries of the court. He then proceeded to retrieve back the ball. At this point of time Stone was at a closer proximity to the strayed ball so he exclaimed to Fran:


“Sir, sir its okay, ill get it!” (Stone is such an ass-kisser)

And with that, Stone turned around, placed his left hand on the short-wall and with a mighty leap cleared the short-wall and landed on the other side with a “GEDEBUK!!” sound. Of course being Stone's close friends, our first reaction was to laugh like hyenas on steroids at his misfortune. But our laughs then faded to smiles and to slightly tilted heads with a sprinkle of worry and still Stone's head hasn't popped up on the other side of the wall. 

I jogged over to see what happened fearing for the worst. 


I imagined Stone's body in a prone position with his limbs scattered erratically and his head facing to much to the right suggesting that this guy needed immediate medical attention.


When i looked over the wall, it was exactly how i envisioned it, but with the exception that his neck was facing too much to the right because he was trying to get a good look at me. 


With concern i squinted my eyebrows and asked.. “ Hey you ok??” 

Stone answered “ My hand feels numb”

I examined his right arm it looked somewhat abnormal. I soon gave him my diagnosis.


“Dude your hands fucked up... i think the elbow is dislocated”


At this point of time my warrant officer arrived at the scene and I gave him the four-one-one (to all you bodos out there 411 is an American slang for telling someone the necessary details about the situation) on Stone's busted arm. He instructed me to stay with him and he jogged with haste to the near by medical office.


Around five minutes passed and we saw our warren officer jogging back to our direction. A few moments later a colossal being in the army uniform with a medium sized sling bag and red cross strapped to his left arm followed closely behind.


It was the medic. He seemed to be gasping. Not too long after five more steps, his half-hearted jog shifted to a lower-gear sluggish walk.

The medic was half-way to our location when I started feeling frustrated over the medic's utter obliviousness to the gravity of the situation; i decided to shout something positive, encouraging and overpoweringly exaggerated for him to add haste to his trudging pace.


 “Hey hurry up!!! I don't think he can make it much longer!!”

With renewed enthusiasm he transposed his trudging to a decent jog. But the jog fueled by renewed enthusiasm only lasted around five steps after which he converted back to his more comfortable, leisure- fast-walk pace. I gave up and waited uneasily beside Stone.


With god's merciful will, the medic finally arrived.


He asked what happened like a scene from CSI. Trying to maintain his composure and exude professionalism while gasping to restore his oxygen levels to normal. I gave him the low down and he took a look at Stone's arm. 

What ever the medic tried to do Stone exclaimed that it hurt a lot. With all options depleted, the medic called in the in-camp ambulance driver to send Stone to the nearest hospital. While waiting for the ambulance pick-up, we managed to flip Stone over and sit him up. The medic soon did a makeshift arm holster out of bandages to minimize movement of the injured arm.


The ambulance arrived and I assisted Stone on it at the back. A friend passed Stone's cell and wallet to me and i held it for him as the driver drove us both to the hospital.


Along the way, Stone has started smiling abit more. He then ask the typical question which people normally ask when misfortune has befallen them. “Wah... why me sia...?? :,S”

And in return i gave him a typical answer.. “I donno man.. shit happens :)”

We arrived at the hospital and one of the attendants unfolded a wheelchair for us. I slowly assisted Stone onto it. Before the attendant wheeled him off, i told Stone to hurry up because i hate waiting. He laughed and said okay.


In the waiting room i was beginning to feel bored out of my mind. Ive read the paper and some magazines and now i just cross my arms and stare at the floor blankly. 


Shortly after, warren officer arrived  using his own personal transport came up to me and ask of Stone's well being. Me having a degree in unqualified doctorism replied “I think his okay, its just the arm thingy”. He nodded his head, sat beside me and fumbled with his phone abit, most probably to answer some SMS.


Moments later, an elderly couple accompanied by what i can only guess is their daughter walked into the waiting room. The young lady had thick wavy black hair, fair complexion and buttocks like an onion.. as in they made me wana cry.

I turned to my warren officer and with a fox-like smile and whispered in Malay "Kasper nak!!" which means Kasper wants!!. My warren officer examined what i was fixating at then replied casually “Go ahead”. I smiled back and told him to wait for its too much of a hassle to approach her now.


Minutes passed, warren officer and I were conversing about life, reminiscing funny incidents that happened during our service together and gossip about everyone else (we love love love to gossip like little girls). His phone rang and he took his conversation out of the waiting room. 


Soon after, Miss Sexy Booty (the lady i was fixating about) walked over, picked up a fashion magazine which was lying around and sat one seat away from me to my right. She then opened the magazine crossed her legs and minded her own business.


I jump started my creative brain juices to help me figure out which strategy should i use:


1) Lame pick up line 
2) Direct compliment
3) Start a neutral conversation
4) Pretend i need to cool off my body by taking off my shirt and show off my awesomely symmetric nipples


I decided to go with the third choice. Since she was reading a fashion magazine, i decided to use that to my advantage. So i turned my head to her direction and asked.


Hey, what do you think about guys wearing eyeliner?

Her whole body didn't move, but her eyes now looked straight forward. She gave a sarcastic smirk and answered “its okay i guess, depends on whose wearing it”


to which point i inquisitively asked, “what do you mean??”


This some lead to other deeper more interesting subjects like music and travel. We exchanged personal stories, names and also the reason on why we in the hospital. Her name was Ava, she seem genuinely nice and was quite surprised that she was a few years my senior for she looked to be around my junior.


My warren officer Fran walked back in with the sergeant who was “in-charge” of me and Stone at that time. The second he saw me conversing with Ava, he rolled his eyes in a “oh my ggggoooodddd...” kinda way. He then turned around and head back out of the room with the sergeant close behind and waited on the seats just outside the room.


Conversation with Ava went pretty smooth considering the attire i was in. If I can recall, i was in my army singlet, running shorts, standard issue running shoes and the best part was, i wasan't wearing any underwear so i always had to give myself a mental check to make sure that i wasan't sitting in a manner that was to exposing of my genitals.


Then things got a little awkward.


Ava's parents occupied the two seats in front of us turned their heads and started talking to her. After their done, the father looked at me in a certain way as if figuring out who is this strange little skinny punk dressed in less clothing then a stripper talking to his daughter? We locked eyes and it seem to get too intense. So i did what any normal mammal fearing for his life would do. I gave him a huge but shakey nervous smile and offered my right hand. He reciprocated without any arrogance or threat and shook my hand firmly. After the heart-thumping ceremony, Ava's dad turned back around to face the front. I then turned to Ava with a “ that was fucking intense dude!! ” look. She looked at my face and we both started giggling quietly hoping not to capture the attention of her fear striking dad in our mirth.


My tummy started rumbling so i decided to go remedy my hunger. i told Eva about my yearning for sustenance and suggested we kept in contact just in case i got lost because shes seems nice, non-psychotic and most importantly fun to talk to. she said yes.. 


and in my head i was like..

I excused myself and went to the canteen and brought myself a packet of MnM's using money from Stones wallet. As i was walking back to the waiting area the nurses rolled Stone out. His parents and siblings were there and they greeted him half worried and half relieved that their baby is alright. We were introduced and then we parted ways, Stone went home and i followed my warren officer back to camp.


The first question i asked stone when i saw him 2 days after was... "eh.. hows your sister? shes kinda cute!" :)