Quotes. It doesn’t really matter where they came from. They could have been uttered by famous and influential people, picked up from charming characters in movies, even shows like Family Guy. More often than not, they do make sense. A couple stuck in my head and are very much applicable to my day to day dwellings.

I once had a rather uncomfortable conversation with a friend’s father. He said, “Taufiq, when there are problems or conflicts surfacing within a family or any intimate, if not romantic, relationships, the man is ALWAYS to blame. Never put the blame on the woman… NEVER” How we ended up talking about it, only god knows. However I couldn’t agree more with that wise old man. He had the hands on experience. In the beginning he did not anticipate how much damage his misdemeanour would cause and the eventuality of things blowing out of proportion (shit hitting the fan) as it should. When they did, hell broke loose. He had almost lost all he had. It has gotten better for him since but left an ugly scar in his marriage. While he was lost in the world of infidelity he always had in mind, justification to his deceitful behaviour. There was always someone to blame and point fingers at. However once the real demon unearthed, the fingers were all pointing back at him. It was he who distanced himself. It was he who succumbed to the seduction of that hideous stray bitch and it was he who brought himself to believe that what he was doing wasn’t wrong. Little did he know, his whole family, the people who loved him unconditionally, had been, all that while, suffering. The wife had nobody to turn to, and the kids, longing for a fatherly guidance were lost “seperti kapal kehilangat nakhoda”. Despite the absence of him, the family, with whatever they have left, each other, pulled through. They patiently waited for the man of the house to come to his senses and rejoin a what-used-to-be a perfect family. And, unlike many of the similar instances, fortunately, he repented, and salvaged whatever that was left of his family and more importantly, marriage. It was however, never the same. The trust lost is never regained. Nobody could put humpty dumpty together again. It, he said, is like driving a car that has been fixed from a nasty crash. Not as good as new and far from being better. Never the same.

One fine summer evening during the last days of my student life I was hanging out with my two best friends in the back yard of our rented home in - effortlessly chugging a crate of Stella Artois (each) – when one of them said something quite surprisingly wise. It was more of an open ended question. He asked, “Guys, if there was someone who has, all these while, provided you with everything you ever needed that you feel forever indebted, and one day that very same person murders your mother, would you still be indebted to that person?” I sat there and thought, ‘wow, that is probably the best way to define the love a boy has for his mother’. That is one line that NOBODY, under any circumstances, should ever cross. No external factor, not even divine intervention, can ever disrupt that sacred bond between a son and his mother. The nature made it that way and that’s just the way it is and that how it should be. When I said NOBODY, I literally meant NOBODY without any exceptions. Those who hurt my mother, in any possible way for any possible reason, deliberate or accidental, are pieces of shit and do not and will not ever deserve my respect for what it’s worth regardless all the good things they have given me. Give me all the money in the world and beg for forgiveness, you will still be a piece of shit. And a piece of shit will always be a piece of shit.


-Tau

p/s: don't mess with my mother

CEOs, Sweage and Civilisation

An integrated sewerage system is one of the most important yardsticks in the history human civilisation. In Paris, France, the idea of an integrated sewerage system was coined, or promoted, by King Philippe Auguste when he ordered drains to be built along roadsides in the city during his reign in the 13th century to channel household wastes into the river. However, the open-drain system was found disastrous as it contributed to the rapid spread of the bubonic plague in 1346 which believed to have wiped out up to 60% of Europe’s population. It took 150 years for the continent’s population to recover. The cleaner and more effective solution was developed by a man called Bruneseau, under the rule of Napoleon Bonaparte, construction of which took seven years from 1805 and 1812. Bruneseau also disinfected and purified the entire network of the subterranean sewer. In 1850, Victor Hugo further improvised the system as he separated the underground passage of sewage and drinking water using techniques made possible following the industrial revolution.
In London, the introduction of flush-toiled backfired as it overwhelmed cesspits, London’s primitive and inefficient sewerage system. This has led to two major black spots on London’s history; the widespread of Cholera disease and the infamous Great Stink. Addressing the gravity of the situation and to avoid the shame these civil blunders could bring to the ‘greatest empire in the world’, the Parliament decided to built a network of enclosed sewer as proposed by a civil engineer, Joseph Bazalgette in 1895.
Many major European countries followed suit and the ingenious technology was later introduced all over the world. The integrated sewerage system provided people with comfort and convenience. It also helped technological advancement. For instance, Elisha Otis’s invention of safety elevators would have been left in vain had occupants still had to travel to the ground to answer nature calls or Londoners still yelling “out the window” to rid their biological discharge.
Quite amazing the sewerage system, really. Developed in 1800s and until today, the basic concept of leveraging on water flow and gravity still works perfectly. The breakthrough, however, is always forgotten. We treat it as if it had always been there; as if nobody had to suffer or even die before it was perfected. It seems, many is taking it for granted and some is going backwards against the flow of civilisation.
Now, to the point I’m to make. In my line of work, i get to visit a number of office buildings to meet clients and most of the time I would meet with the top management of large corporations. Typically, the elite group (those holding higher position) would occupy the higher floor of the building while the working class; lower. As the meetings require high level of focus and professionalism I would hit the loo before the meetings commence. There seems to be a strong correlation between cleanliness of toilets and class of people utilising it. The executive floors are always clean while the working class ones, more often than not, covered in filth. Same apply to airplane lavatories. Business and First class WCs are always cleaner than those of coach.
I began to question. One: Did the likes of CEOs and CFOs become aware of toilet ethics, personal hygiene and common courtesy after they made their way up the corporate ladder? Or two: was it their in-built toilet ethics, personal hygiene and common courtesy that propelled their success? I think it’s the later. What do you think?
You can argue on volume and frequency of cleaning. But it’s not about numbers. It only takes one irresponsible bastard to spoil the comfort of an efficient sewerage system for everyone.

Unconditional love. Say what???

Woman: Love and emotional support? One at a time mister. Show me the money and body-convulsing orgasm, and then we talk love and emotional support.

Man: Love and emotional support? You have a pretty face? You have an epic pair of bosoms? If the answers are yes to both questions, let’s talk love and emotional support.

Men and women. We are all the same; messed up in the head and incapable unconditional love. We do try, all the time, to prove otherwise, using many different methods. Be it self help books, retarded friends’ advice and even religions. But we’re fooling no one but ourselves. We are very particular, have preferences, and more often than not, will jump at the first glimpse of a better option.

I will be polite here. Ladies first.

Yes, they can provide men with support and love and are vital components in the pursuit of the continuity of mankind. But these services do not come free. Quality of service depends entirely on how much men are willing to spend. I’m not talking love, protection and care of a man; I’m talking dollar and cents (preferably dollar of course and with a lot of zeros excluding decimal points). It does make perfect sense if you look at it. Like buying a car, if a customer walks into a Proton or Perodua showroom, the only questions worth asking for the sales person to the potential - and most probably eventual – customer would be which model, transmission type and color. Because there’s no point promoting the cars for there’s nothing to promote and the only reason the customer walked into either of these showrooms is that they know they can’t afford anything else. Once the car is sold, the sales person would say, not out loud for sure, “it’s your problem now”, with a smile in his face. After sales service? What after sales service? In fact, the soon-to-be dissatisfied customer probably does not even expect any after sales service. He knows, considering the amount he paid, he doesn’t deserve any. Now if we relate to men picking a mates. They know very well that with the little money that he had, could afford to or was willing to spend(t) that’s all he is going to get… Junk. If we look at the other extreme, say you bought a prancing-fucking-horse (that’s Ferrari) the after sales goes on forever. They’ll build you a car that fits every part of you perfectly. They’d measure the length of your thighs and width of your hips and even the diameter of each of your testicles, to the nearest millimeter to promise comfort. You decide what color, which part will come in. Your wish is indeed their command. Try buying your woman a RM20,000 Channel bag. I bet on my mother’s house, with my mother in it, they’ll fulfill your sickest, most disgusting sexual desires right outside the KLCC boutique. You will never ever have to tug your sorry self while she’s busy tugging someone else’s anymore.

Now we move on to the gentlemen.

They are a bunch of cheating, lying, and deceitful sons of bitches. Never trust them. Here’s the conundrum. You can’t trust men with money but you don’t even look at men without. What does that leave you with? Ponder that. You may be the hottest, foxiest, woman he knows now. You probably have the sweetest rack, round, firm arse and vertical lips as tight its neighbor an inch away that he couldn’t tell the difference at times. You think he’s not going to go anywhere… forever. Let me break it down to you missy. The moment a wrinkle appears on your used-to-be pretty face, tits and honka-donk sags, and your verti-lips down under gape perpetually like a dead Indonesian volcano, he’s out the door. First his mind, then his heart, and eventually, sooner rather than later, his physical self. Unless you’re lucky enough that he dies before he could find your replacement.

For women, it’s always money first, sex second and the rest later and for men, its face, boobs, cunt, ass, and the rest, in that order. Strip off all our self-righteousness, men are just a bunch of lonely lowlife, housing long-term prostitutes, masked by the politically correctness of self dictated economic success and women… well, you get what I mean.

There’s no such thing as unconditional, and forever love. Terms and conditions always apply…. Always.