Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
The Original People
Since I am a bit free, I want to fill this here empty space with a question that has been bothering me for awhile (about three days).
Why aren't the Orang Asli of Semenanjung given Bumiputera rights, but the Malays and the 'Natives' of Sabah and Sarawak get it?
('Natives' because even people who are 1/32 native like myself can get Bumi status).
Since I can't find any proper definition of what exactly Bumiputera rights are (aside from gross injustice etc etc), here's the Wikipedia link: Wiki Bumi link.
All this while, I had though we were existing in a sort of arena of benevolent negligence when it came to Orang Asli rights. I mean, obviously, since no one gives a flying fuck about them and what's happening in their society.
It's like, Oh yeah. Those poor Orang Asli. Fishing and building rope bridges deedlydeedlydoo thank goodness they can use the bumi quota to get into uni since many of them are too poor to get a proper tertiary education otherwise dumdeedumdeedoo now what shall I have for my overprivileged bumi lunch?
NOT.
I had no idea they were being repressed from their due rights.
And when I say DUE RIGHTS, I mean the rights any idiot would expect them to have, being, you know. Orang Asli. So what, there's only one type of Bumiputera allowed in every 'Part'? Like Sabah and Sarawak get Bumi rights for their natives, but the Malays usurp the Bumi rights of the Orang Asli in Semenanjung? I doubt it. There's hardly enough Orang Asli to constitute a threat.
Because, if you hadn't noticed, they're busy being poor as churchmice. They're even poorer than the AVERAGE churchmice.
And you know what poverty means?
Crappy healthcare.
Crappy education (or none at all at a tertiary level).
Crappy opportunities.
And all this results in there being no one, or at least not enough people out there fighting for their rights, because no one is making other people aware of this.At least the Native Americans got a bunch of casinos and neverending beer. And a mention in a crappy multimillion dollar sparkly vampire franchise.
This would never happen to our Orang Asli because they don't even own this much stuff collectively.
What do our Orang Asli get?
Screwed over.
Fine, don't meddle with your precious constitution. I like having preferential treatment anyway (because I'm cheap).
But why don't you (and by you, I mean our errant government) take a bit of that frigging FIVE BILLION ringgit that you're going to spend on that concrete representation of penis envy, and give it to the Orang Asli? Eh? How about that?
Yeah, I know it'll be a few hundred thousand bucks out of coffee money for you, sorry about that. You'll have to wait for the next bribe load to pay off your childrens tuition at their poshy overseas university. Gimme a break. Sell off one of your BMWs and give the money to the real Bumis so that they can upgrade from a donkey cart to a bicycle.
See this car here?!! It is a symbol of corruption and...other horrible things...and. It's a very nice car isn't it? Very sexy. I forgot what I was saying.
A link:
Center For Orang Asli Concerns
PS. This is not, like, a political post or anything. Like, no way! I'm just a girly little girl, concerned about all those poor hut-living people with no flushing toilets.
Why aren't the Orang Asli of Semenanjung given Bumiputera rights, but the Malays and the 'Natives' of Sabah and Sarawak get it?
('Natives' because even people who are 1/32 native like myself can get Bumi status).
Since I can't find any proper definition of what exactly Bumiputera rights are (aside from gross injustice etc etc), here's the Wikipedia link: Wiki Bumi link.
All this while, I had though we were existing in a sort of arena of benevolent negligence when it came to Orang Asli rights. I mean, obviously, since no one gives a flying fuck about them and what's happening in their society.
It's like, Oh yeah. Those poor Orang Asli. Fishing and building rope bridges deedlydeedlydoo thank goodness they can use the bumi quota to get into uni since many of them are too poor to get a proper tertiary education otherwise dumdeedumdeedoo now what shall I have for my overprivileged bumi lunch?
NOT.
I had no idea they were being repressed from their due rights.
And when I say DUE RIGHTS, I mean the rights any idiot would expect them to have, being, you know. Orang Asli. So what, there's only one type of Bumiputera allowed in every 'Part'? Like Sabah and Sarawak get Bumi rights for their natives, but the Malays usurp the Bumi rights of the Orang Asli in Semenanjung? I doubt it. There's hardly enough Orang Asli to constitute a threat.
Because, if you hadn't noticed, they're busy being poor as churchmice. They're even poorer than the AVERAGE churchmice.
And you know what poverty means?
Crappy healthcare.
Crappy education (or none at all at a tertiary level).
Crappy opportunities.
And all this results in there being no one, or at least not enough people out there fighting for their rights, because no one is making other people aware of this.At least the Native Americans got a bunch of casinos and neverending beer. And a mention in a crappy multimillion dollar sparkly vampire franchise.
This would never happen to our Orang Asli because they don't even own this much stuff collectively.What do our Orang Asli get?
Screwed over.
Fine, don't meddle with your precious constitution. I like having preferential treatment anyway (because I'm cheap).
But why don't you (and by you, I mean our errant government) take a bit of that frigging FIVE BILLION ringgit that you're going to spend on that concrete representation of penis envy, and give it to the Orang Asli? Eh? How about that?
Yeah, I know it'll be a few hundred thousand bucks out of coffee money for you, sorry about that. You'll have to wait for the next bribe load to pay off your childrens tuition at their poshy overseas university. Gimme a break. Sell off one of your BMWs and give the money to the real Bumis so that they can upgrade from a donkey cart to a bicycle.
See this car here?!! It is a symbol of corruption and...other horrible things...and. It's a very nice car isn't it? Very sexy. I forgot what I was saying.A link:
Center For Orang Asli Concerns
PS. This is not, like, a political post or anything. Like, no way! I'm just a girly little girl, concerned about all those poor hut-living people with no flushing toilets.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
True Marvels
I'm sure everyone watched Iron Man 2. The most important part of the movie was, of course, the appearance of Thor's hammer and Captain America's shield.
And Robert Downey Jr.
Therefore, it's no surprise that the Thor movie (with Natalie Portman. Side note: Why is Portman playing that nurse in Thor? I don't even remember her name. GIVE PORTMAN HER OWN SUPERHERO MOVIE. I suggest Domino. Or any other leatherclad character) and the Captain America movie is coming out.
But what's this?A Black Widow movie?
Wait a second. Didn't a lot of people (including myself) have a problem with Booblett Boobhansson playing the Russian spy? Didn't we originally want the lesser known but better talented Emily Blunt to be BW? And didn't every single thing I said about ScarJo's performance come true?
Of course it did. I am psychic.
Then I realised I was being unrealistic (and also kind of lame). In Hollywood, talent is often confused with other things. For example: drug addiction (River Phoenix), trashiness (Megan Fox), douchebaggery (Tom Cruise [except for Minority Report]) and assuming-your-audience-is-stupid (Ben Stiller, Adam Sandler).
In Scarlett's case, it's Boobs.
(I don't think I actually needed to type that out. But I had to make sure that the connection between Scarlett and her Boobs is clear).
Ah. I am so glad to have gotten that off my chest
*
*
*
*booooom tish!*
When they are so many more deserving Marvel characters than a minor Avengers heroine (anti-heroine? former villain? villoine?), I can only put forward the above explanation as to why this movie is even being made. It just so happens that Scarlett is playing her.
She could have been any character, and it would not have made a difference. Despite portraying the least personality amongst all of the cast, she still gets her movie. But I think humanity has made it pretty clear - who needs personality when you can have Boobs! And Boobs in PVC too!
This is how I imagine the discussion of her movie went down.
In that case, I would suggest my favourite Avenger, Scarlet Witch, to be portrayed by Christina Hendricks to ensure that she gets her own movie.
And Robert Downey Jr.
Therefore, it's no surprise that the Thor movie (with Natalie Portman. Side note: Why is Portman playing that nurse in Thor? I don't even remember her name. GIVE PORTMAN HER OWN SUPERHERO MOVIE. I suggest Domino. Or any other leatherclad character) and the Captain America movie is coming out.
But what's this?A Black Widow movie?
Wait a second. Didn't a lot of people (including myself) have a problem with Booblett Boobhansson playing the Russian spy? Didn't we originally want the lesser known but better talented Emily Blunt to be BW? And didn't every single thing I said about ScarJo's performance come true?
Of course it did. I am psychic.
Then I realised I was being unrealistic (and also kind of lame). In Hollywood, talent is often confused with other things. For example: drug addiction (River Phoenix), trashiness (Megan Fox), douchebaggery (Tom Cruise [except for Minority Report]) and assuming-your-audience-is-stupid (Ben Stiller, Adam Sandler).
In Scarlett's case, it's Boobs.
(I don't think I actually needed to type that out. But I had to make sure that the connection between Scarlett and her Boobs is clear).
Ah. I am so glad to have gotten that off my chest
*
*
*
*booooom tish!*
When they are so many more deserving Marvel characters than a minor Avengers heroine (anti-heroine? former villain? villoine?), I can only put forward the above explanation as to why this movie is even being made. It just so happens that Scarlett is playing her.
Yeah, we're really impressed with your boobs.
I meant martial arts skills.
I meant martial arts skills.
She could have been any character, and it would not have made a difference. Despite portraying the least personality amongst all of the cast, she still gets her movie. But I think humanity has made it pretty clear - who needs personality when you can have Boobs! And Boobs in PVC too!
This is how I imagine the discussion of her movie went down.
Yes.
In that case, I would suggest my favourite Avenger, Scarlet Witch, to be portrayed by Christina Hendricks to ensure that she gets her own movie.
And sequels. Possibly we can even squeeze a tv series in there.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Sukiyaki Study
Have you ever read a food blog? You know, the kind where they go and eat at wherever and then they talk about the food. Sedap ke tak. Servis baik ke tak. Got a lot of cute people or not. They write it down in their blogs to a bunch of drooling followers.
I kinda like to read food blogs la. But after awhile of reading, I realised dat dey all end up sounding sumting lyk dis ;). Srsly. Hw do u expect me 2 finis reding entry lik tat?
Then I, dengan megahnye, said, Ekeleh. I can write a better food blog than that! I am, after all, Captain Obvious and Grammar Nazi all in one delectable package! I can do no wrong with the written word!
(This is where the god of words spit on me, I think).
So I pergilah makan dekat this one Jap restaurant in Tropicana City Mall, with the aim of writing - sorry, not writing, blogging - about it. That and also I was craving meat. MEAT, THOU ART THE FRUIT OF LIFE!! Delicious and tender, sweet and comforting. Thou hath no rival in the world of fruit and vegetables!!Especially not tofu.
Why go to a Jap restaurant for meat? Why, have you not had their thinly sliced beef, grilled on that...stone thing. Or chunks of it, grilled? Or dipped, for only a few moments into boiling soup??No?? Great. Then now you have me drooling for no reason goddamnit.
Went there la (forgot the name of the place). Across from Artista, which is this awesome place for music and drinks. We ordered salmon sashimi and erm, some tuna chunks with this weird bean thing that smelled like a petrol nozzle threw up, and then a spider shat on it, because it had these funny fermented tendrils that stuck on your spoon when you tried to scoop it.
Mysterious bean thing.
Delicious slices of salmon. Wonder why cooked salmon never tastes as good.
That bean thing was like the height of our adventurousness la. So for the main meal he ordered soupy udon noodles (unless it was the other one), and I ordered Sukiyaki.
The main dish. Wink wink.
The whole time I ate, this was going through my head:
Ah, that Sukiyaki. Such a tease. My own Sukiyaki was delicious. And now I malas nak cakap dah about my dinner.
The most important part of my Sukiyaki. MEAT!
Anyway. I realised not everyone can be a food blogger la. You have to be pretty rajin, I think, to write about all the places you eat. I went to that Jap place about a month ago, and baru sekarang I terasa wanna write about it. Tsktsk. Also, you just have to like food. I like food, I do. Really. But I don't like it enough to feel inspired to write about it and describe in an appetising and scrumptious manner.
So I may be aware of proper grammar and sentence structure, but that doesn't make me a food blogger. It just makes me kind of a prick about other people's grammar.
I learned a valuable lesson because of this: I am not the god of words, despite whatever delusion I was labouring under. It's a setback for my plans of eventual world domination, but nevermind. I have a scientist friend who will no doubt succeed in her plans to take over the world and I can leech off her in the future.
I kinda like to read food blogs la. But after awhile of reading, I realised dat dey all end up sounding sumting lyk dis ;). Srsly. Hw do u expect me 2 finis reding entry lik tat?
Then I, dengan megahnye, said, Ekeleh. I can write a better food blog than that! I am, after all, Captain Obvious and Grammar Nazi all in one delectable package! I can do no wrong with the written word!
(This is where the god of words spit on me, I think).
So I pergilah makan dekat this one Jap restaurant in Tropicana City Mall, with the aim of writing - sorry, not writing, blogging - about it. That and also I was craving meat. MEAT, THOU ART THE FRUIT OF LIFE!! Delicious and tender, sweet and comforting. Thou hath no rival in the world of fruit and vegetables!!Especially not tofu.
Why go to a Jap restaurant for meat? Why, have you not had their thinly sliced beef, grilled on that...stone thing. Or chunks of it, grilled? Or dipped, for only a few moments into boiling soup??No?? Great. Then now you have me drooling for no reason goddamnit.
Went there la (forgot the name of the place). Across from Artista, which is this awesome place for music and drinks. We ordered salmon sashimi and erm, some tuna chunks with this weird bean thing that smelled like a petrol nozzle threw up, and then a spider shat on it, because it had these funny fermented tendrils that stuck on your spoon when you tried to scoop it.
Mysterious bean thing.
Delicious slices of salmon. Wonder why cooked salmon never tastes as good.That bean thing was like the height of our adventurousness la. So for the main meal he ordered soupy udon noodles (unless it was the other one), and I ordered Sukiyaki.
The main dish. Wink wink.The whole time I ate, this was going through my head:
Ah, that Sukiyaki. Such a tease. My own Sukiyaki was delicious. And now I malas nak cakap dah about my dinner.
The most important part of my Sukiyaki. MEAT!Anyway. I realised not everyone can be a food blogger la. You have to be pretty rajin, I think, to write about all the places you eat. I went to that Jap place about a month ago, and baru sekarang I terasa wanna write about it. Tsktsk. Also, you just have to like food. I like food, I do. Really. But I don't like it enough to feel inspired to write about it and describe in an appetising and scrumptious manner.
So I may be aware of proper grammar and sentence structure, but that doesn't make me a food blogger. It just makes me kind of a prick about other people's grammar.
I learned a valuable lesson because of this: I am not the god of words, despite whatever delusion I was labouring under. It's a setback for my plans of eventual world domination, but nevermind. I have a scientist friend who will no doubt succeed in her plans to take over the world and I can leech off her in the future.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Freeform Independence
The other day I went and volunteered at a soup kitchen.
I know, I know what you're thinking. Sam? Really? The one who stops at nearly every (nearly because Iylia stops at every) mirror to check her hair? Who won't go out with the wrong shoes or unmatching underwear (I actually do that quite often thanks)? Feeding the homeless?
Yes. Yes I was.
I followed PERTIWI Soup Kitchen (intro-ed by this blog) on Monday night. This is what I expected:
Me: Yes! Exactly like that!!
Seth: (Rolls eyes)
It was nothing like that. It resembled that description the way Stephenie Meyer's writing resembled Jane Austen's: basic premise is similar, but execution is completely unrecognisable.
Yes, they were homeless. And yes, they were poor. Kot. I guess. I mean, they took the free food (which came in tidy little brown baggies), so I assume they needed it. Although there was this one tourist from Pakistan or something who took a free drink before realising it was for homeless people. Technically, tourists are homeless. Except they have money. And a place to stay back in their hometown.
So these homeless people, they look like completely normal people. No beards or braids down to their knees. They obviously had baths and haircuts, and clothes that were, on the most part, clean. If they weren't lining up for the food, I wouldn't have thought they were homeless. It was not as depressing as I thought it would be, to be honest. The lady in charge, Baidah, told us that some people just choose this way of life. Some of them can't change, or don't want to. Some just never have the opportunity to escape from it once they're in it.
I can't really say what they're doing is wrong, or that their life sucks. I can't say I pity them as much as I would, say, a poverty-stricken rape victim or an old man with alzheimers. Those people have no control over what has happened to them, and not much after that either. But these homeless, to a certain extent (excluding the obviously insane and mentally or physically or age handicapped ones), do have control over their future and themselves.
But what control do any of us really have over our life anyway? No point really thinking too much about it. Just do your good deeds and hope that God is keeping score (do I get an A for effort God? Huh? Do I? Do I?). I did it out of the kindness of my heart (honest!), despite what my friends say (what my friends said:
I know, I know what you're thinking. Sam? Really? The one who stops at nearly every (nearly because Iylia stops at every) mirror to check her hair? Who won't go out with the wrong shoes or unmatching underwear (I actually do that quite often thanks)? Feeding the homeless?
Yes. Yes I was.
I followed PERTIWI Soup Kitchen (intro-ed by this blog) on Monday night. This is what I expected:
Masses of smelly people drooling at the sight of food. Unable to control their hunger and lack of hygiene, they push and shove and fight over the bowls of soup. Raving lunatics and druggies share the same breathing space, dependant on charity for food. Sad, wasted, demented people..Seth: You mean you expected prostitutes waving AIDS-filled syringes in the air to come trampling after you?
Me: Yes! Exactly like that!!
Seth: (Rolls eyes)
It was nothing like that. It resembled that description the way Stephenie Meyer's writing resembled Jane Austen's: basic premise is similar, but execution is completely unrecognisable.
Yes, they were homeless. And yes, they were poor. Kot. I guess. I mean, they took the free food (which came in tidy little brown baggies), so I assume they needed it. Although there was this one tourist from Pakistan or something who took a free drink before realising it was for homeless people. Technically, tourists are homeless. Except they have money. And a place to stay back in their hometown.
So these homeless people, they look like completely normal people. No beards or braids down to their knees. They obviously had baths and haircuts, and clothes that were, on the most part, clean. If they weren't lining up for the food, I wouldn't have thought they were homeless. It was not as depressing as I thought it would be, to be honest. The lady in charge, Baidah, told us that some people just choose this way of life. Some of them can't change, or don't want to. Some just never have the opportunity to escape from it once they're in it.
I can't really say what they're doing is wrong, or that their life sucks. I can't say I pity them as much as I would, say, a poverty-stricken rape victim or an old man with alzheimers. Those people have no control over what has happened to them, and not much after that either. But these homeless, to a certain extent (excluding the obviously insane and mentally or physically or age handicapped ones), do have control over their future and themselves.
But what control do any of us really have over our life anyway? No point really thinking too much about it. Just do your good deeds and hope that God is keeping score (do I get an A for effort God? Huh? Do I? Do I?). I did it out of the kindness of my heart (honest!), despite what my friends say (what my friends said:
HRHing: except thatLies, O Heavenly Father. Utter lies. They should know by now that's what I think about everyone).
HRHing: i bet in that moment when you were helping
HRHing: your head was screaming "Don't TOUCH ME! PLEASE DON'T ROB ME!"
Monday, August 30, 2010
Tell Me It Ain't Cute
Dear Mr Fillion,
I think you're pretty awesome (in a non-fangirl way).
When you were in Buffy as the Brother who poked Xander's eye out, I remembered your creepy but righteous performance.
In Firefly, you were supercool as Captain Mal (just a side note, as I was re-watching several episodes the other day: What happened to Sean Maher? Because he is really a very really good looking man. Really. It seems a waste for such a handsome actor to fall of the face of acting. Maybe you could say hi to him for me? Maybe if you passed me his number, I could do it myself, you wouldn't have to trouble yourself...Anyway. I was just curious).
When Dr Horrible's Singalong Blog came out, I was ecstatic to find you in it - together with the amazing Neil Patrick Harris and Felicia Day (Felicia Day is awesome and funny!), despite the fact that you played a douchebag superhero (which you did very well!).
And then the Serenity movie - if you could say hi to Summer Glau as well? I would be indebted....
Anywhoo. You were in Desperate Housewives after that (WHAT WAS WRONG WITH YOU???EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW), but I forgive you (because of all of the above).
[This walk down memory lane is really just so I can talk about Castle Season 1 and 2 la. Most of you guys (I count 2 of you, including myself) don't know who awesome Mr Fillion is. So I must clarify how awesome he is.]
I've just finished watching Castle. Both seasons. And I have to say I am so relieved to have had something to watch that wasn't chock full of ridiculous CSI melodrama, and didn't take itself too seriously. THE RELIEF. was palpable. Just a good sit-down, laidback murder mystery series. With two adorable leads. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Like a breath of fresh air. Like cold water after walking up a flight of stairs. Like, well, like stuff that is nice, refreshing and wholesome.
I was going to watch Fringe, but then I asked myself - What happens when you watch stuff like Fringe? You get sucked into it. You start thinking about (spoiler) alternate dimensions and (spoiler) time-rifts and (spoiler) cows. And then what? And then you get depressed and obsessed with the possibility of alternate dimensions and how one is brought into existence every time we are faced with choices - the choices we don't take create alternate realities to be played out in....you see what happens? Nerdout happens. Existential angst happens.
I don't need all that, man. What I need is a pet hedgehog. But if I can't have that, watching Castle is just as nice and heartwarming. Also, has lots of redheads, which I have a soft spot for.
So Mr Fillion, thanks for being so awesome, and could you please hurry up with the third season?
Thanks.
Yours Truly,
Sam.
I dare you to say this ain't cute (remember, everytime you say it, something cute dies).
I think you're pretty awesome (in a non-fangirl way).
When you were in Buffy as the Brother who poked Xander's eye out, I remembered your creepy but righteous performance.
In Firefly, you were supercool as Captain Mal (just a side note, as I was re-watching several episodes the other day: What happened to Sean Maher? Because he is really a very really good looking man. Really. It seems a waste for such a handsome actor to fall of the face of acting. Maybe you could say hi to him for me? Maybe if you passed me his number, I could do it myself, you wouldn't have to trouble yourself...Anyway. I was just curious).
When Dr Horrible's Singalong Blog came out, I was ecstatic to find you in it - together with the amazing Neil Patrick Harris and Felicia Day (Felicia Day is awesome and funny!), despite the fact that you played a douchebag superhero (which you did very well!).
And then the Serenity movie - if you could say hi to Summer Glau as well? I would be indebted....
Anywhoo. You were in Desperate Housewives after that (WHAT WAS WRONG WITH YOU???EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW), but I forgive you (because of all of the above).
[This walk down memory lane is really just so I can talk about Castle Season 1 and 2 la. Most of you guys (I count 2 of you, including myself) don't know who awesome Mr Fillion is. So I must clarify how awesome he is.]
I've just finished watching Castle. Both seasons. And I have to say I am so relieved to have had something to watch that wasn't chock full of ridiculous CSI melodrama, and didn't take itself too seriously. THE RELIEF. was palpable. Just a good sit-down, laidback murder mystery series. With two adorable leads. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Like a breath of fresh air. Like cold water after walking up a flight of stairs. Like, well, like stuff that is nice, refreshing and wholesome.
I was going to watch Fringe, but then I asked myself - What happens when you watch stuff like Fringe? You get sucked into it. You start thinking about (spoiler) alternate dimensions and (spoiler) time-rifts and (spoiler) cows. And then what? And then you get depressed and obsessed with the possibility of alternate dimensions and how one is brought into existence every time we are faced with choices - the choices we don't take create alternate realities to be played out in....you see what happens? Nerdout happens. Existential angst happens.
I don't need all that, man. What I need is a pet hedgehog. But if I can't have that, watching Castle is just as nice and heartwarming. Also, has lots of redheads, which I have a soft spot for.
So Mr Fillion, thanks for being so awesome, and could you please hurry up with the third season?
Thanks.
Yours Truly,
Sam.
I dare you to say this ain't cute (remember, everytime you say it, something cute dies).The Mysterious Case of the Disappearing Nymph
The other day Greg and I stumbled upon the God of Bisexuality.
Greg and I: Whatup
God of Bisexuality: Greetings, my children!
Greg and I: Wha...???
(Question: Why do gods insist on calling everyone their children? You did not give birth to me!)
Nah, not really. This is his real story:
Hermaphroditus
The son of Hermes (like the scarf) and Aphrodite (she got around eh), Hermaphroditus was the god of bisexuality. He was minding his own business and bathing in a pool, when some psycho nymph who had been stalking him leapt into the pool and merged with him. And by merged, I do not mean have sex. I mean she physically melded into him, so that they became 'two bodies, one form'. Apparently her stalker-like devotion appealed to the generally insane greek gods (what did I tell you about holy STD?), and when she asked to 'never be parted' from him, they agreed.
This is how I see it going down:
Nymph: OOO holy gods and goddesses I hereby sacrifice this here poor virgin goat in your name please let me get sucked into Hermaphroditus and stick to him forever, like a useless excess bit but with sexual organs, much like the male anglerfish to the female! OOOO I beg thee holy gods and goddesses!!!!
*Kills goat*
Aphrodite: Yes, my child.
Nymph: Oh Holy Aphrodite! Allow me to bodymeld with your child and completely lose all sentience so that my vagina can be with him forever!
Aphrodite: My child?
Nymph: The one you had with Hermes.
Aphrodite: I had a child with...Oh. Hahaha. Well, who keeps track of these things? Heeheehee. Sure, do what you like, my dear. But give me a heads up if he's cute! Huhuhuhu.
Nymph: Thank you O Great Goddess!
A lot of people think having gods as parents would be cool, but it's actually not. As you can see from this unfortunate scenario:
Hermaphroditus, bathing harmlessly in a pool, thinking of all the dates he has lined up. Suddenly some random nymph jumps in and starts squirming against him.
Nymph: Oh, H, We will be together forever! Heeheehee.
H: Eh. Hey. Oi, wot chu think you're doing eh? I'm a bloody God, see. And you laugh like me mum. Get the Hades away from me.
She starts being absorbed into him.
H: Heyyy. Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Wot's this? What...ARGH. ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.
Yeah. You know what happens next.
Heeheehee.
Yeah, well. We always kind of knew that, even if you didn't, Barbie.
Greg and I: Whatup
God of Bisexuality: Greetings, my children!
Greg and I: Wha...???
(Question: Why do gods insist on calling everyone their children? You did not give birth to me!)
Nah, not really. This is his real story:
Hermaphroditus
The son of Hermes (like the scarf) and Aphrodite (she got around eh), Hermaphroditus was the god of bisexuality. He was minding his own business and bathing in a pool, when some psycho nymph who had been stalking him leapt into the pool and merged with him. And by merged, I do not mean have sex. I mean she physically melded into him, so that they became 'two bodies, one form'. Apparently her stalker-like devotion appealed to the generally insane greek gods (what did I tell you about holy STD?), and when she asked to 'never be parted' from him, they agreed.
This is how I see it going down:
Nymph: OOO holy gods and goddesses I hereby sacrifice this here poor virgin goat in your name please let me get sucked into Hermaphroditus and stick to him forever, like a useless excess bit but with sexual organs, much like the male anglerfish to the female! OOOO I beg thee holy gods and goddesses!!!!
*Kills goat*
Aphrodite: Yes, my child.
Nymph: Oh Holy Aphrodite! Allow me to bodymeld with your child and completely lose all sentience so that my vagina can be with him forever!
Aphrodite: My child?
Nymph: The one you had with Hermes.
Aphrodite: I had a child with...Oh. Hahaha. Well, who keeps track of these things? Heeheehee. Sure, do what you like, my dear. But give me a heads up if he's cute! Huhuhuhu.
Nymph: Thank you O Great Goddess!
A lot of people think having gods as parents would be cool, but it's actually not. As you can see from this unfortunate scenario:
Hermaphroditus, bathing harmlessly in a pool, thinking of all the dates he has lined up. Suddenly some random nymph jumps in and starts squirming against him.
Nymph: Oh, H, We will be together forever! Heeheehee.
H: Eh. Hey. Oi, wot chu think you're doing eh? I'm a bloody God, see. And you laugh like me mum. Get the Hades away from me.
She starts being absorbed into him.
H: Heyyy. Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Wot's this? What...ARGH. ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.
Yeah. You know what happens next.
Heeheehee.
Yeah, well. We always kind of knew that, even if you didn't, Barbie.
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