just minishorts.

While we're getting all riled up over silly debates over what is ignorance, what is maturity and who can afford single-digit number plates, more important figures are talking about things that really pertain the nation, such as that article by a certain prominent Women's Activist (whether or not she's someone's daughter, does it matter really?), and reactions like this.

I thought it funny of course that my skewed opinion of horny bastards too had to appear on International Women's Day. But never mind that, which was, what I thought, a demonstration of responsible freedom of speech. It sounded pretty sensible to me in a nonsensical way, and of course, provocative at the same time… but really, the feedbacks that came in the lines of, 'Screw you you horny virgin you're only saying that because you don't have experience,' are pretty astounding. Considering the fact that these people will most likely blog about ugly fat women who have asses too big to fit into triple-XL sized pants.

But before you say screw you Minishorts you have no regards for beauty in its entirety everyone is beautiful and who are you to say so-and-so is ugly or not your ugly fucked up bitch, I say it back to you, 'Well you just called me ugly. So, touché.'

But see, we're talking about something important which I of course have to present in a very opinionated way and this is, by no means, not an article. (No Vince, we do not write articles.) Articles are pieces of work who have probably seen the eyes of at least ONE editor prior to publication. Such as that article by Marina Mahathir which is yet to be published.

…

So I was looking at parts of the big picture and it suddenly hit me that while we're in an era where borders are almost rendered invisible, with the Internet, and that freedom of expression is celebrated so joyously, maybe we don't really want freedom at all. I mean when multiple-channeled communications so often hit points of saturation, don't you feel ever, ever, feel that the chaotic atmosphere of differing opinions make you wanna scream 'ORDER ORDER ORDER!'

Just so that you can have some peace and quiet after all.

I don't know. I know that, of course, when I decided to post about how I felt whenever I encountered a horny bastard (come on you all met that dirty old man whose eyes slanted at you shiftily before), I wasn't really thinking. I just got out of a conversation with a friend and it was mightily enjoyable so I decided to write about it. Hey, freedom of expression, practised, my way. Not very responsibly of course, but not like it was going to cause a bunch of horny bastards to scream 'Order order order!', right?

Quite unlike the times when we're talking racist opinions, where of course we have to be careful to not talk about things that lie under the calm waters. But hey, who is to say that all is silent under the deep blue sea?

You see, the problem with women talking about our rights is just this… all too often through the ages women have been subdued. I myself was brought up with the mantra, 'Little girls should be seen and not heard.' God gave women voices after all, yet sometimes, the way men react to us and tell you it's best to keep quiet because our opinions are contradicting, that can be rather paradoxical, eh?

Especially when one opinion is accused by Man of challenging a Word of God.

Oh I'm not qualified to talk about another religion, so I will not touch on that, least someone comes along and points a finger at me to talking about things that I don't know half about. Yes I don't know half about a lot of things, and among these things of course is the very fact and awareness that I am not qualified to discuss something as sensitive as comparative religion and interfaith issues. As it is, I also feel that there isn't anyone on earth who is qualified to discuss these things, examples: Specimen A, Specimen B.

But never mind that, I'll talk about Leviticus and Deuteronomy first, among some other parts of the Old Testament, which contain several rules deemed necessary by the Pharisees in order for order and peace to exist. Also please understand I'm not bashing up the Holy Bible per se, just that I'm going to use parts of it to illustrate what I'm trying to say.

Two examples first,

Leviticus 11:2-3 - '… The animals you may use for food include those that have completely divided hooves and chew the cud. You may not, however, eat the animals named here, because they either have split hooves or chew the cud, but not both…'

11:8 'And the pig may not be eaten, for though it has split hooves, it does not chew the cud. And you may not eat the meat of these animals or touch their dead bodies. They are ceremonially unclean for you.'

Leviticus 7:22-27 - Then the Lord said to Moses, 'Give the Israelites these instructions: You must never eat fat, whether from oxen or sheep or goats. The fat of an animal found dead or killed by a wild animal may never be eaten, though it may be used for any other purpose. Anyone who eats fat from an offering given to the Lord by fire must be cut off from the community. Even in your homes, you must never eat the blood of any bird or animal. Anyone who eats blood must be cut off from the community.'

And then,

Leviticus 15:19-23 - Whenever a woman has her menstrual period, she will be cermonially unclean for seven days. If you touch her during that time, you will be defiled until evening. Anything on which she lies or sits during that time will be defiled. If you touch her bed, you must wash your clothes and bathe in water, and you will remain defiled until evening. The same applied if you touch an object on which she sits, whether it is her bedding or any piece of furniture.

Try more,

Deutoronomy 23:1-2, on Regulations concerning Worship - 'If a man's testicles are crushed or his penis us cut off, he may not be included in the assembly of the Lord. Those of illegitimate birth and their descendants for ten generations may not be included in the assembly of the Lord.'

…

I don't know about you, but if we really wanted to ahhere so strictly to the entire bible, we'd be in a fix all the time. It is pretty much impossible to adhere to such a law that even on print, looks rather, to put it crudely, discriminating, to animals, women and men alike. And yet, it appears that Christians are disobeying these laws all the time. We eat pork, we go to church even on days when we're having our period, and I personally think its terrible to deny an illegitimate child, of God. After all, he didn't choose to be born to this earth, why should his generations be accursed for something he didn't do? (Don't quote original sin to me if you're a Fundamentalist).

Now that is not to say I appraise people who burn bibles and holy books. In Acts 15, there is this letter to the Gentile Believers, that clears the confusion regarding the laws in the Old Testament,

We understand that some men from here have troubled you and upset you with their teaching, but they have no such instructions from us… For it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to lay no greater burden on you than these requirements: You must abstain from eating food offered to idols, from consuming blood or eating the meat of strangled animals, and from sexual immorality. If you do this, you will do well.'

…

Then again, I did read in this site and sites of other Fundamentalists who doubt the divinity of the Bible that Paul was a drunkard and skewed God's Word to his advantage. Et cetera, et cetera, blasphemous, no less, but so far no huge protests just yet.

I think it's because amidst all this fervour to turn to God and religion as a fundamental pillar of trust and support, the majority of us still realize that Earth is not Heaven and we still have to exist with our different opinions in the most peaceful manner possible, whether we like it or not. At least, we keep reminding ourselves that because only the most qualified people are allowed to go to Heaven, and we're going to Heaven anyway and all these idiots will burn in Hell, we busy ourselves with our everyday lives and choose to shake our heads in horror and turn the other cheek.

Usually.

Except in recent months, while we're all celebrating freedom of expression and the pike of civilisation in a time when humans beings finally seem to be able to grasp that concept of respecting another person's differences, EVERY TIME someone actually demonstrates true freedom of expression, he gets virtually cruxified for his opinions because they're so bloody radical and irresponsible.

So comes the rhetorical question: what is responsible, what is irresponsible?

…

I'm just thinking on Marina's article right now, and of course, me being a woman, I think it's a sensible article with some valid points. So I'm not Muslim, does it matter? And don't come to me with, 'You're not a Muslim it's none of your business'. The last time some people drew cartoons in another country no one said, 'You're not Danish it's none of your business' either.

Let me put it this way, I'm human, I'm Malaysian, and I have an opinion that begs to be heard and this is only the blog of someone quite stupid, some say. *Disclaimer* So please, by all means, disregard me after reading this.

…

I just feel that if you strip away all the religious curtains and veils, it boils down to this, 'Some men just do not like it very much when a woman is vocal enough to say what she thinks.'

And then to shield this very selfish demeanour they cover themselves with armours of religious scripture, quoting line after line and praising God at the same time. Yet don't you think it is pretty unholy of them to call Sisters in Islam 'a sisterhood of Muslim liberals who are the culprits of selling out this blessed faith for cheap publicity and God knows what else?'

Just strip religion away from the standing issue please, don't pollute God in your fervour to be heard. We will hear you anyway, whether or not we agree with you is up to us. Besides, there is nothing more cowardly than a man who hides behind his God in order to subdue a so-called lesser gender.

…

Bible quotations taken from the New Living Translation.

Or none at all.

At least, that's my skewed perception, and fucking hey (I know disclaimers are pointless, but I think I'd best get it out of the way), you don't have to agree with me. AND BESIDES, where's that lousy old line again, I'm a woman damn it, of course my lines are almost sexist and one-sided. But then what I say might not be the opinion of women worldwide.

It's just that, just that, I was looking around the blogosphere, snooping around that is, and I came across some blogs by men whose posts chronicled intricate, explicit bits of very personal he-she encounters. OH craps, sex of course. In words, spelt out, described with all that 'She chewed on my chest' bits…

And I'm sorry damn it, but I'm utterly not convinced. On the contrary, I feel quite annoyed actually, and instead of feeling 'wow', I go, 'the fuck'. That's what happens when the writing comes across as stilted, forced, and almost-tried-hards.

Sad.

You know Erotica isn't Erotica unless it is appealing, and reading posts like that just brings me back to my holier-than-thou (but of course it is, it is my blog, isn't it?) opinion that men just can't write Erotica, even if they tried hard enough. Or just let me put it in a more politically correct way, okay? Men can't write Erotica that will appeal to a female audience.

You know what I mean by appealing right? Appealing simply means that you wanna go back for more, read more, because reading all these stuff about how he breathes over her face and she feels like she's going to melt down before him and show him what it is like to be truly loved by a woman will actually cause you to feel hot and beg for the air-cond to blow a bit cooler. But na-ah, I don't get that kind of 'OH WOW' kind of feel when I read this dude's scribblings. OK I'd be less punishing, let's just say that so far I haven't read any male writer's sex-scene depiction that's appealing to me. Except John Updike. But see, I haven't met another John Updike. Not yet. I'm still hoping of course.

So anyway I told The Pianist (oh I'll tell about his story another day) about how I felt and in the process, I also showed him the samples that led me to say 'Yuck'. And you know what? The Pianist thought, 'Eh not bad what. I think it's true.'

Of course me being the me who hates it when people have an opinion different from mine, had to go, 'The fuck?'

The Pianist said, 'Looks real enough to me. I don't think he would have been able to write all that if it is not real.'
'Hah.'
'He sounds like a horny bastard though, I mean…'
'Well now that you've put it that way. He does… seem like a horny bastard.'
'Must be lah, only horny bastards are willing to write things like that. Most don't bother. At least we respect our women.'
'Which also proves that all that he writes is not real.'
'How come so?'
'Because he's a horny bastard.'
'And then?'

I don't know if you'll agree with me in this generalization but there is ONE thing I know of women on the whole, we hate bloody horny bastards. Now the question is of course this, if most women hate horny bastards, how many women are left behind to have sex with the horny bastard?

…

So I told the Pianist this, 'No matter how horny you are, you wouldn't want your girl to know that you're actually itching to kiss her there right? Because she'll give you a slap immediately. I mean, if right now I know that you're trying to do something bad to me, you think I'll continue talking to you ah….'

'True also.'
'That's why you cannot present yourself as a horny man. And you won't write things like that this dude wrote. Just in case you come across as a horny bastard.'
'Yeah lah that one I not so stupid one. But you know hoh, most men like to imagine their women are a bit more horny lor…. '
'That one I know. Most men love a girl who is able to write about sex uninhibitedly.'
'So unfair.'

It's gender inequality in the highest. Horny women get great sex. Horny men hardly get any.

Apparently, the mission is yet to be accomplished.

The Pianist: U know … Most guys
Minishorts: yeah ?
The Pianist: When they confess… Got standard procedure
Minishorts:uh huh
The Pianist: Grab hand
Minishorts: yeah?
The Pianist: Ask
Minishorts: erh… that is so not true
The Pianist: No meh
Minishorts: eric did not grab my hand and ask, neither did the first two… did something else altogether…
Minishorts: SOP your head
The Pianist: No meh?
Minishorts: no lah
The Pianist: I donno ma… Then how?
The Pianist: Atmosphere? Loccation?
The Pianist: Lighting?

Minishorts: aiyah just write her a letter lah
Minishorts: tell her how you feel lah
The Pianist: Letter ar
Minishorts: 'i love you like the moon loves the sky, like micky mouse love minnie mouse'
The Pianist: Hahahaaaa
The Pianist: but i manage to write 2 sentences only wor
Minishorts: which are?
The Pianist: I like u very much, do u think u feel the same too? that's it
The Pianist: One sentence actually
The Pianist: Divided into two parts hehehe
Minishorts: aiyah
Minishorts: cut away the second part
Minishorts: the second part is like pressuring her

Minishorts: just say
Minishorts: i like you very much.
Minishorts: enough
Minishorts: see how she responds
Minishorts: body language also cukup
Minishorts: i HATE it when a guy asks me if i like him
The Pianist: Ooo ok
The Pianist: Then grab her hand la?
The Pianist: Then see her response?
Minishorts: no need lah
Minishorts: i think you just be quiet for a while
Minishorts: then tell her how you know about your feelings for her

The Pianist: If she is in shock leh?
Minishorts: then let it be lah
Minishorts: don't pressure her
The Pianist: Ooo ok
Minishorts: 'i like you very much.'
The Pianist: Ok
Minishorts: if its very quiet just tell her
Minishorts: 'i keep on looking forward to seeing you.'
The Pianist: Uh huh
Minishorts: 'when i am with you i feel happy. '
The Pianist: Awwwww
The Pianist: I'm lum alady
Minishorts:'when i hear your voice i feel very comfortable. '
Minishorts: then be silent…
Minishorts: if she doesn't like you she will respond with lots of crap to stop you from continuing
Minishorts:if she likes you, she should be really quiet.

The Pianist: Wah u caan reaally kau lui
Minishorts: COS I'M A GIRL MAH, I KNOW WHAT A GIRL WOULD LIKE! you doink
The Pianist: Okokok
The Pianist: Wait lemme take note
The Pianist: I'll practise on my dog tonight
Minishorts: WTF?!!!

Excuse me for a day, please, because today I'm going to pretend to be a smart-ass know-it-all. That's just because occasionally, I AM YOUR MOST RELIABLE AGONY AUNT, and when it comes how how to get the girl, occasionally, I'm pretty well-enabled to provide you with some valuable methods.

But really, when the Pianist asks you what he ought to get for a girl he likes, you just have to pull out the resources and do your best to provide help, in any way possible. And then he asked me, 'But really, Claire, if you had a choice, what's a good gift to receive?'

'I don't know. Maybe a bottle of perfume. Wait a minute, what's your budget?'
'Somewhere below a hundred.'
'Awww… I was thinking DKNY's Be Delicious.'

Of course that was entirely fuelled by personal reasons, so I told him this, 'She'll turn out smelling like green apples, quite sexy you know.'

He went to look for the bottle and came back to tell me it cost a little bit over RM250. 'I don't want to scare her with something too extravagant.'

Well, that's fair, and in the end he got her something less lavish, but still above his initial budget of RM100. I'm not going to tell you what it is here, lest she, errr, reads my blog, and realizes that the Pianist is after her.

A few days after Valentine's, I asked the Pianist if it worked. It pleased me to know that the results were pretty much fantastic as the girl actually asked him out for a Valentine's dinner AND a midnight movie.

'That's good. Did you hold her hand?'
'No! You xiao ah?'
'What you mean I'm xiao? No, heck, how many times have you been out together?'
'Urm, a few times, I guess.'
'And izzit always a one-on-one date?'

Sometimes dates come in packs… I once knew someone who thought he would stand out by asking the girl of his dreams to be his girlfriend at a weekend party with the varsity mates. Needless to say, he was a complete failure.

The Pianist told me they'd gone out alone a few times, previously, and it was always one-on-one.

'And you've never held her hand. '
'No.'
'Like what are you waiting for, dude?'
'Cannot so fast lah. Scare her away then how.'
'NO, way, you HAVE TO HOLD HER HAND. Like, what's wrong with you, man? How long do you want to take? Another ten dates?'
'Well maybe. I don't know.'
'Eh, she'll be thinking what's wrong with you and then some guy will come along and that's it lah.'
'I don't know lah.'
'Aiyoh you DON'T HAVE TO KNOW much to grab her hand lah, just take it.'
'Cannot just take like that lah, must ask first.'
'Then ask lah.'
'I don't know how to ask her.'

Now here's the thing that boggles me. Izzit really, really, THAT necessary to say it aloud, 'Please be my girlfriend?'

Really, really, really? Really! Those are merely formalities, and formalities can be oh so boring. I mean, you've ALWAYS heard about the girl who tells you how she's cornered in a car, where the two of them are alone, and then he asks, 'So what do you think, can we get together?'

Variations of the same kind include, 'Would you like to spend time with me exclusively, me as your boyfriend?'

'Can I fuck you?' 'Can I be your boyfriend?' 'Will you let me fuck you?' 'Will you be my girlfriend?'

SO. VERY. BORING. AND. UNORIGINAL.

'Come come, now,' I told the Pianist. 'Look, does she wear a bracelet?'

'No, hey. I'm not sure. Maybe. Why?'
'Well, well, you can very well use the bracelet as a technique, you know?'
'Like huh? How?'
'You know, you take her to somewhere NORMAL for a meal, it doesn't have to be expensive, and you, you know, test the water by looking at her wrist for a bit. And then, you compliment her on her bracelet, or bangle, or whatever she has there. Her watch also can.'
'Uh-huh.'
'And then you reach out, and ever so slightly, touch her wrist…'
'WAH LAU EH, WHERE CAN LIKE THAT?!!'

But come on, everybody knows that the wrists are hotspots that trigger the heart to beat wildly.

'Why not?' I said. 'Trust me it works. You pretend to adjust the bracelet, and make sure you have skin-contact, and then, keeping your eye on her wrist, you ask her, with a quiet sigh, "Do you like it when I do this?"… bao she will fall for it.'

'Wahlao…Sure or not.'
'Confirm can.'
'You experienced this before izzit.'

Hehe. I'm not telling. But really, let's all wish the Pianist some luck. Or share some tips. Whatever rocks, and whatever works, please.

One of the worst things about gaining weight, is the increased waistline. It's the after-effects of the New Year celebrations, I tell you, and right now, the abdominal crunches don't seem to work, just yet.

And for me, unfortunately, gaining weight doesn't mean gaining an increased cup size. Because only my waist line has increased, my cup-size has decreased too. This is NOT empowering at all. It's not like I like huge boobies all that much, but at least, I want to look like I'm proportionately endowed, or at least, pretend that I look like I have appealing boobs.

It's embarassing, yes, but I've been reduced from a B to an A. Not that B is anything to be proud of, but at least they look like something. A is just… flat. Airplane driveways. Like little slopes instead of visible bumps. Even my mum thinks they're pathetic. Yesterday I was about to go out to dinner in a sleeveless top when Mum decided she'd give her two sen on my assets.

'Wait, I think you should go and change your bra.'
'Huh?'
'You look like you're wearing nothing. SO FLAT.'
'But Ma…'
'Go get that Wonderbra of yours… the one with the extra padding.'
'But… but… but…'
'GO AND GET IT. YOU LOOK LIKE A LOG IN THAT.'

So on occasions, I think that my mother is too open for my liking.

…

Last night, after dinner, Eric and I decided to go to the Metrojaya Relocation Sale at Section 14 to see if we could get any great deals. Place is a complete mess, but if you look long enough, you'll be able to fish out some gems. Like the slinky, spaghetti strap, figure hugging dress I saw, which I think would be great to wear to a wedding at the end of the month. So, you know, you have a boyfriend, you get to ask his opinion when you try things on.

This dress I found was cut really low down the front, so you get to show off a bit of a cleavage… FORTUNATELY, I still have A LITTLE BIT of that lah…. and that's better than nothing right? I slipped in, got out of the room, and asked the bf, 'What do you think?'

'Looks okay.'
'Can I buy it?'
'Errr…'
'What?'
'Front a bit flat lor.'

See I don't quite mind honesty, but this is just rubbing salt in the wound. You think those bust-enhancing creams work?