Verves In Composition

In all my 2 decades plus years of upbringing, I have kept to my own ways of squat toilet usage. It’s very much like the way you were taught to hold your pencil, a very signature style of your very own performed with the most habitual of mannerisms.

As I grew up, there were of course, several schools (mom, grandmom’s, aunts and nannies had their own way) of thought to toilet etiquette and conduct (regardless if you were in the presence of others or not). I thought I always had it right… until I unintentionally flashed more than decent flesh at one point of my life of tertiary education.

How could I ever reveal so much without noticing? Let me illustrate…

Whoever squats like me, IS SURE TO NOT KNOW if the door behind is REALLY securely shut.
Thus my question now is asides from the fact that it has no complete benefit to visual dignity to squat the way i do,…Why the heck do we squat the way we do? Hmmm..

Several debates over the mamak table have ended in ‘The dump goes straight in the hole‘.  Sure…males and females take a dump the same way. But what if we pee?

Guess my way would be more feasible for the pee to get right in the hole! But wait..if a man really had to go pee in a squat toilet…which way does he actually face… *ponders*

I’ve also always had this fear of getting my foot stuck in such a gaping hole in the ground.Hanging my ass over the seemingly bottomless abyss  would actually increase the chances of such, thus I prefer to have everything in front of me. We’ve got to minimise such risks you know….

I’m also a pretty lazy person. Doing it the normal way would mean I would have to perform such actions in sequence.
1) shut the door

2) TURN

3) aim and estimate for feet positioning

4) TURN

5) do my business

6) TURN

7)  Flush remnants

8) TURN

9) Exit stall
My way seems to have simplified things… think of all the time you’ll save not having to turn so much and do all that topographical planning on feet placement

1) close door

2) TURN

3) Do business

4) Flush

5) TURN

6) Exit stall

So there is a reason why I was given directions to use the squat toilet as so

FOR NOT BLOODY DOING HIS JOB!!! IT’S INCREDIBLY ASSHOLIC-ALLY HOT IN MALAYSIA DAMMIT!

It’s been a utterly hot and humid weekend and over this course of time my car air conditioning decides to choke spew and sputter out all it’s gas that keeps it cold.

At first it started with it dancing side by side my accelerator. It moves, then air con moves. So when I was stuck in a pissy jam, bloody hell.

This morning I put on a Coldplay CD, and all of a sudden i hear this “pshhhh…” noise
“Chris Martin,..is that you?” 

psssshhhhhh….

“My CD isn’t scratched now is it?”

psssshhhh….

 

*turns of CD player and presses ear towards air conditioning*

PSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

“OH DAMN!”

Thus now, my car feels worse than a bloody construction site. I was at the Turf Club Today and I SWEAR, even the horses’ stables felt so much better than mine (Smell and humidity wise, since I have been perspiring  uncontrollably.

SO SOMEONE PLEASE SHOOT HIM! BEFORE I GO NUTS AND START LOADING AN ELEPHANT GUN AND GO IN A THIN AIR SHOOTING SPREE! GYWARHHHH

Perhaps it could be “FREE DOG FOOD” or “LOVING PATS AVAILABLE HERE!”. What ever it is, there must be something written in dog language that would have dogs gravitate in my direction.

In all my life, even if a dog(s) was/were barking at me, it’ll/they’ll stop when I come over to give them a pat of approval. I would be called for road trips to babysit dogs. And strays would always come looking for me.
Then, last night, there I was, my arteries were at the brink of releasing evaporations of boiled blood..cause of my pretty dimwitted maid who kept unloading and loading the wrong things in my car. Then a little fellow crawled from under the car, whimpering and looking Oh-so lost.

Late for my appointment at my usual Starbucks, I handed him to mom who was already muttering to the air about providing it a plush, comfy lifestyle. After much pampering and shampoo treatment, the lil male now looks somewhat like this

There he is! He was accompanying me doing some spring cleaning and ended up frolicking in my pile of unwanted old bras

Doesn’t he look like ‘THE DOG’? This is such a greeting card/ mass mailing worthy picture.

Up till now, we have no real clue about what breed he is. Dad has got this thing about only keeping pedigree dogs, which is a shame. We figure he’s a rough age of about two weeks old, cause he’s just barely teething. I’ll let the vet give his expertise tomorrow

This makes dog No.5 in the house. Oh yes, we do need a name for him, the thing is that all my dogs (except Pixie, the miniature pinscher who was named  that way for obvious reasons), are named after famous designers, we had HUGO and BOSS, we have Giorgio, Coco and Chanel at the moment. Please something more manly and nothing under a third rate brand. Any suggestions?