just minishorts.

Inspired by Huaibin's comments on my previous post, and the shitload of fairy tale classics I've had to endure in the past week, I am creating a new category in this blog, where the awful thoughts that I want to say but cannot due to political incorrectness, will be recorded. It's all in the name of fun. And if you're offended, don't comment, go away and don't come back. Because if you don't like me, I probably won't like you too so let's claim peace before war breaks up and you go your way, I go mine.

And in the good name of blogging fun, because HB requested to be mentioned in my screwed up fables, I will dedicate the very first entry of this new category to him, with lines that he had thought of himself.

There once was a hungry old doggie who had arrived in a small country. The people in that country were very kind to doggies, and decided that the poor doggie look awfully ugly without anything to eat. So the kind people fed the doggie some food and the doggie was happy for a while.

By the way the doggie was a she-doggie, so to be politically correct, the doggie she was actually a bitch. So from henceforth let's call the doggie a bitch.

Anyway, this bitch one day decided that the small country was too small for her engorged head, and it was time to move on to the bigger things in life. She heard of a bigger city, where bigger healthier doggies live and so, she picked up the biggest bone that the country's butcher gave to her, and made her way to the big city where she hope she would find fame and fortune, and more bones.

Now the bitch had plodded on and on, carefully biting on to her precious bone. Sometimes she would stroked on her precious, other times she would lick the bone out of hunger. But mind you, the bitch took very very good care of her bone, and well, it was good. At first.

It was good, until she came to a nice little bridge across a pretty little stream. She could see the bright lights of the city from where she was standing.

'Oooh. The BIG CITY. THERE I CAN FIND FAME. AND FORTUNE. AND MORE BONES,' thought the bitch (her bone was in her mouth so she could not say a thing). Then she started to move her fat ass again, the bone STILL in her mouth.

She reached the middle of the bridge. And she felt SOMETHING following her. Poor bitch. She looked behind, but there was nothing. She walked a bit further. Something was still following her. The bitch look down. Then she saw it.

Another bitch!

With another bone!

Down, in the stream. Staring back at her.

The bitch stared directly at the bitch in the river, thinking, 'Fuck it what is wrong with you. Go away.' She made a stabbing action with her front paw.

To her dismay, the bitch in the river mimicked her kungfu stance.

Now of course, we all know that there was no doggie in the stream, only the reflection of the silly bitch, but you know how silly bitches can get, they are just plain silly. So the silly little bitch started to become quite angry. She wanted to snarl, but unfortunately, she had a bone in her mouth, and she couldn't do anything.

On top of being silly, the bitch was also very greedy. She saw the bone in 'the other doggie's' mouth, and thought, 'I will get you just you wait. And I will TAKE AWAY your bone too.'

After all, in stream reflections, everything just looks bigger. And the silly bitch did a few ugly looking kungfu stances on the bridge, and finding to her utter horror, that the doggie in the river could do THE EXACT THINGS that she did.

Finally she couldn't take it anymore. 'You think you are so clever don't you? Just you wait. I WILL GET YOU NOW!'

And you know what? The silly bitch jumped into the river in her utterly silly attempts to get the other doggie.

Now, you know this story already because the story of The Greedy Dog has been overtold many many times, what you don't know is…

The bitch could not swim. And when bitches can't swim, they do the only other thing possible, they drown. So they tried to call out for help. But bitches are dogs, and dog's can't talk.

But Gods can.

So at the sight of the drowning bitch, the GREAT GOD SIXTHSEAL (this is where you requested for this HB) who was sitting in his meth-clad pedestal high up above, boomed his great meth-ed up voice, 'NOW YOU KNOW, THAT SIXTHSEAL.COM RAWKS.'

And with that, a HUGE BIG meteorite came hurtling down from the heavens above, and landed on the poor drowning bitch. The End.

And that, my children, is the end of today's story. Amen.

Because this blog is about me, me and meeeee, today I will talk about me, mee and meeee… (and you can scoot off if this does not interest you and it's not supposed to interest you anyway).

Someone asked me what I'm currently doing for a living because I seem to be online most of the time and talking a lot of bull. Well. Right before me is a book full of bed-time stories. I'm supposed to choose a few that has moral values, sans political sentivities, sans religious sensitivities, sans racial sensitivities, and repackage them into an appropriate format that will be CD-fiable. CD-fiable, i.e. a coined term (by yours truly), means to convert into a multimedia format.

I have since re-written about 13 stories for the upper primary market, and am heading on to tell tales like 'The Fox and the Stork', 'The Musicians of Bremen' and 'The Greedy Dog'.

I particularly like the last story, and if you haven't heard of it before, eh you never go kindergarten before izzit? But never fear, I'm here, The Greedy Dog's about an old little bitch who found a bone on her way to get to the BIG city — to get more bones methinks, walked across a bridge, looked at her reflection, saw another dog with another bone and wanted that bone also, and stupidly leaped into the water to eat the other 'bone'.

Somehow this is reminiscent of the actions of some people that I have been recently acquainted with.

Now you see, this storytelling business has been going on for about a week or so, and its getting a wee bit tiring. And sitting DIRECTLY UNDER the air-conditioner vent is not speeding up my brain either. But the again, my worktime chat partner Elaine mentioned that she thought what I was doing was cool, so I think I can live in the doldrums for a bit. But, today I decided to be a good girl and reassure mothers who read blogs that minishorts of the 'WTF and go eat my non-existent balls' bad-mouth is currently writing short stories for children aged 13 and below. And they will be distributed into schools near you.

Can you blame me that I feel like a goddess? A mini chunk of your child's imaginary future is in MY hands. Muahahaha.

Now you are pardoned for feeling pissed. Come let me kiss all the nice and kind ladies in the world.