Looks like Borobodur is remaining an elusive place for me as it has been raining all afternoon and its pouring by the buckets. Nothing else to do this evening except sit and write down as much as i could to while the time away productively.
My son in Dubhai insisted that translated the slander made against me into English so the he can reply to it as one of my children. He was very upset when I told him of the comment that had been made to undermind my character especially it coming out of the blue for no rhyme or reason. But i wrote to him to chill and let it play itself out as I have no idea who or where it came from and i have no desire for him to fall foul with my family. I have always told my children to respect their uncles and aunties regardless of how i personally feel about them and this I still insist upon. It is sad though that sometimes I have to persuade them to visit these relatives of theirs and i can tell that they have reluctance in doing so for some reason, and not that I blame them. I have two sisters and both love my children and vice versa. The kids are genuinely excited whenever they visit their aunties although they dont talk much but thats them, they dont talk much with people period, especially my son Karim. Now with this comment written in this blog it would be hell of alot harder for me to convince them that all is well with all their father's side of the family. My children read my blog as does most of my f
riends although they refrain from commenting.
As gas been emphsized alot earlier in the beginning this blog is a form of self exploration, self analysis, self experimentation, getting to know know and understand the self and not to promote the self for elf agrandizement. It is called the moaning and groaning of the Cheeseburger Buddha simply because that is what it is. A look at the dichotomy of life, the opposits or the dual thinking mind and not an invitation for a fencing of characters. No one has to read it much less comment on it. Sometimes i write dumb things just because i enjoy writing for the sake of writing and i am getting alot better at it, at least my typing speed is. It cost me quite abit here everytime I sit to use the internet as most travellers will tell you but hell it is raining outside what else can yo
u do?
Bought a few pieces of Batik Sarongs for my sisters today and will tell them it came from my son as he is paying for them. Bought some 'Janting and wax for Batik making s they were cheap something that I need so i can start doing some painting using these when I get home. I like the looks of batik on canvas done at some galleries here and thought it is time for me to do some exploration into this medium. Visited the Kraton or Sultan's palace too and was given a guided tour of the place by a lady who I did some flirting while at it. She is 40 and went along with it and this made what would be a very boring excursion into the lives of past Sultans and their collections of medals and wives more exciting. I most probably left her thinking that i am a dirty old man, which I am! The secret is i undress every women I look at with my mind and by the time we hd part company I would hve made love to her insd out and upside down but offcourse she has to have the appeal. So beware you ladies dont catch me taking a second look at you! And if I do take it as a complement.
How pure is your mind? Or are you the type who sees a pair of legs walking, a pair of arms danggling and a head rolling on a pair of shoulders. God bless you for you have indeed the blessings of having a pure mind. How terribly boring! I was entranced watching the Ramayana show last night by the two lead female dancers in their Javanese batik costumes with their white breasts half stryggling to pop out all night long and I am sure ninety percent of the men did so too! The second great thing God created was women the first is Life as it is. I am staring across the room at a lady who is sitting facing away from her looks and manners is normal but the fact that half her bra is sticking out under her armpit has turned me on and every night before I go to sleep after meditatng I ask my Lord to protect me from my own desires. Yes, I am saying this just to sound cool, it is a fact and I have been doing this for as long as I can remember having had my first orgasm. My lust for women has got me into more trouble than my temper. I have committed some of the most unspeakable acts for the sake of getting laid and on looking back I would not trade my place for anything better. I have commited one of the mot gravest sins and that is I worship the female form. As I am writing this crap the azan is being called at the mosque the street, what more can I say.
I can go on writing about my life and times in relation to the opposite sex all night long but it will cost me a bundle using this internet. Rain or not I have to quit while ahead.
Oh please, my mother one day caught me spying on a few school grils taking their bath at the well one day and with the most disgusted look in her eyes that till this haunts me said, "Hang ni Boya!" or you are a crocodile. It may not sound bad in translation but in its original languge and manner of delivery it was being dumped with a bucket of shit, I was fifteen or fourteen at the time. Nope I am not blaming her, she was right.
My son in Dubhai insisted that translated the slander made against me into English so the he can reply to it as one of my children. He was very upset when I told him of the comment that had been made to undermind my character especially it coming out of the blue for no rhyme or reason. But i wrote to him to chill and let it play itself out as I have no idea who or where it came from and i have no desire for him to fall foul with my family. I have always told my children to respect their uncles and aunties regardless of how i personally feel about them and this I still insist upon. It is sad though that sometimes I have to persuade them to visit these relatives of theirs and i can tell that they have reluctance in doing so for some reason, and not that I blame them. I have two sisters and both love my children and vice versa. The kids are genuinely excited whenever they visit their aunties although they dont talk much but thats them, they dont talk much with people period, especially my son Karim. Now with this comment written in this blog it would be hell of alot harder for me to convince them that all is well with all their father's side of the family. My children read my blog as does most of my f
riends although they refrain from commenting.As gas been emphsized alot earlier in the beginning this blog is a form of self exploration, self analysis, self experimentation, getting to know know and understand the self and not to promote the self for elf agrandizement. It is called the moaning and groaning of the Cheeseburger Buddha simply because that is what it is. A look at the dichotomy of life, the opposits or the dual thinking mind and not an invitation for a fencing of characters. No one has to read it much less comment on it. Sometimes i write dumb things just because i enjoy writing for the sake of writing and i am getting alot better at it, at least my typing speed is. It cost me quite abit here everytime I sit to use the internet as most travellers will tell you but hell it is raining outside what else can yo
u do?Bought a few pieces of Batik Sarongs for my sisters today and will tell them it came from my son as he is paying for them. Bought some 'Janting and wax for Batik making s they were cheap something that I need so i can start doing some painting using these when I get home. I like the looks of batik on canvas done at some galleries here and thought it is time for me to do some exploration into this medium. Visited the Kraton or Sultan's palace too and was given a guided tour of the place by a lady who I did some flirting while at it. She is 40 and went along with it and this made what would be a very boring excursion into the lives of past Sultans and their collections of medals and wives more exciting. I most probably left her thinking that i am a dirty old man, which I am! The secret is i undress every women I look at with my mind and by the time we hd part company I would hve made love to her insd out and upside down but offcourse she has to have the appeal. So beware you ladies dont catch me taking a second look at you! And if I do take it as a complement.
How pure is your mind? Or are you the type who sees a pair of legs walking, a pair of arms danggling and a head rolling on a pair of shoulders. God bless you for you have indeed the blessings of having a pure mind. How terribly boring! I was entranced watching the Ramayana show last night by the two lead female dancers in their Javanese batik costumes with their white breasts half stryggling to pop out all night long and I am sure ninety percent of the men did so too! The second great thing God created was women the first is Life as it is. I am staring across the room at a lady who is sitting facing away from her looks and manners is normal but the fact that half her bra is sticking out under her armpit has turned me on and every night before I go to sleep after meditatng I ask my Lord to protect me from my own desires. Yes, I am saying this just to sound cool, it is a fact and I have been doing this for as long as I can remember having had my first orgasm. My lust for women has got me into more trouble than my temper. I have committed some of the most unspeakable acts for the sake of getting laid and on looking back I would not trade my place for anything better. I have commited one of the mot gravest sins and that is I worship the female form. As I am writing this crap the azan is being called at the mosque the street, what more can I say.
I can go on writing about my life and times in relation to the opposite sex all night long but it will cost me a bundle using this internet. Rain or not I have to quit while ahead.
Oh please, my mother one day caught me spying on a few school grils taking their bath at the well one day and with the most disgusted look in her eyes that till this haunts me said, "Hang ni Boya!" or you are a crocodile. It may not sound bad in translation but in its original languge and manner of delivery it was being dumped with a bucket of shit, I was fifteen or fourteen at the time. Nope I am not blaming her, she was right.
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