When the Ball Hits Your Nut and You Land on Your Butt...That's Karnain!

My office uses Mozilla Thunderbolt instead of MS Outlook!!! How refreshingly odd 

If you haven't yet seen the full transcript of new interim Newcastle United manager Joe Kinnear to British sports journalists, here is the (now not-so-new) full transcript of his foul-mouthed tirade. It's so horrific, it's funny. Oh, and I love the way Simon Bird answers "Thank you" after being called a cunt. Class! Apologies for the language, though!

JK Which one is Simon Bird [Daily Mirror's north-east football writer]?

SB Me.

JK You're a cunt.

SB Thank you.

JK Which one is Hickman [Niall, football writer for the Express]? You are out of order. Absolutely fucking out of order. If you do it again, I am telling you you can fuck off and go to another ground. I will not come and stand for that fucking crap. No fucking way, lies. Fuck, you're saying I turned up and they [Newcastle's players] fucked off.

SB No Joe, have you read it, it doesn't actually say that. Have you read it?

JK I've fucking read it, I've read it.

SB It doesn't say that. Have you read it?

JK You are trying to fucking undermine my position already.

SB Have you read it, it doesn't say that. I knew you knew they were having a day off.

JK Fuck off. Fuck off. It's your last fucking chance.

SB You read the copy? It doesn't say that you didn't know.

JK What about the headline, you think that's a good headline?

SB I didn't write the headline, you read the copy.

JK You are negative bastards, the pair of you.

SB So if I get a new job next week would I take the first day off? No I wouldn't. If I get a new job should I call my boss and tell him I am taking the first day off?

JK It is none of your fucking business. What the fuck are you going to do? You ain't got the balls to be a fucking manager. Fucking day off. Do I want your opinion. Do I have to listen to you?

SB No, you can listen to who you want.

JK I had a 24-hour meeting with the entire staff.

SB Joe, you are only here six weeks, you could have done that on Sunday, or Saturday night.

JK No, no, no. I didn't want to do it. I had some other things to do.

SB What? More important things?

JK What are you? My personal secretary? Fuck off.

SB You could have done the meeting Saturday night or Sunday. You could have had them watching videos, you could have organised them.

JK I was meeting the fucking chairman the owner, everyone else. Talking about things.

SB It is a valid point that was made in there. A valid point.

JK I can't trust any of you.

Niall Hickman Joe, no one could believe that on your first day at your new club, the first-team players were not in. No one could believe it in town. Your first day in the office.

JK My first day was with the coaches. I made the decision that I wanted to get as much information out of them.

NH But why Monday, no one could believe it?

JK I'm not going to tell you anything. I don't understand where you are coming from. You are delighted that Newcastle are getting beat and are in the state they are? Delighted, are you?

NH Certainly not. No one wants to see them get beaten, why would we?

JK I have done it before. It is going to my fucking lawyers. So are about three others. If they can find something in it that is a court case it is going to court. I am not fucking about. I don't talk to fucking anybody. It is raking up stories. You are fucking so fucking slimy you are raking up players that I got rid of. Players that I had fallen out with. You are not asking Robbie Earle, because he is sensible. You are not asking Warren Barton? No. Because he is fucking sensible. Anyone who had played for me for 10 years at any level ... [but] you will find some cunt that ...

Other journalist How long is your contract for Joe?

JK None of your business.

SB Well it is actually, because we cover the club. The club say you are here to the end of October, then you say six to eight games which would take it to the end of November. We are trying to clarify these issues. We are getting no straight answers from anyone. How long are you here for. It is a dead simple question. And you don't know ...

JK I was told the length of contract. Then I was told that possibly the club could be sold in that time. That is as far as I know. That's it finished. I don't know anything else. But I have been ridiculed. He's trying to fucking hide, he's trying to do this or that.

There follows an exchange regarding the circumstances under which Kinnear had met the owner Mike Ashley and executive director (football) Dennis Wise.

Steve Brenner (football writer for the Sun) We are all grown men and can come in here and sit around and talk about football, but coming in here and calling people cunts?

JK Why? Because I am annoyed. I am not accepting that. If it is libellous, it is going to where I want it to go.

Newcastle press officer What has been said in here is off the record and doesn't go outside.

Journalist Well, is that what Joe thinks?

JK Write what you like. Makes no difference to me. Don't affect me I assure you. It'll be the last time I see you anyway. Won't affect me. See how we go at Everton and Chrissy [Chris Hughton, assistant manager] can do it, someone else can do it. Don't trust any of yous. I will pick two local papers and speak to them and the rest can fuck off. I ain't coming up here to have the piss taken out of me. I have a million pages of crap that has been written about me. I'm ridiculed for no reason. I'm defenceless. I can't get a point in, I can't say nothing, I can't do nothing, but I ain't going to be negative. Then, half of you, most of you are trying to get into the players. I'm not going to tell you what the players think of you, so then you try and get into them in some way or another, so I've got a split camp or something like that, something like that. It's ongoing. It just doesn't stop.

Journalist It's only been a week.

JK Exactly. It feels more like a year.

Journalist It's early days for you to be like this.

JK No, I'm clearing the air. And this is the last time I'm going to speak to you. You want to know why, I'm telling you. This is the last time. You can do what you like.

Journalist But this isn't going to do you or us any good.

JK I'll speak to the supporters. I'm going to tell them what the story is. I'm going to tell them. I don't think they'll interpret it any different, I don't think they'll mix it up, I don't think they'll miss out things. I mean, one of them last week said to me ... I was talking about in that press conference where you were there, I said something like "Well, that's a load of bollocks ..."

Journalist "Bollocks to that" is what you said.

JK Bollocks to that. And what goes after that?

Journalist That was it.

JK No it wasn't, no it wasn't. What was after it? I don't know if it was your paper, but what went after it?

Journalist I don't know.

JK It even had the cheek to say "bollocks to Newcastle".

Journalist I didn't write that.

JK That was my first fucking day. What does that tell you? What does that tell you?

Journalist Where was that? Which paper said that?

JK I've got it. I can't remember. It was one of the Sundays, not a Saturday. It was a Sunday.

Journalist But you didn't say that to the Sundays, you said that to us. That was during the Monday press conference.

JK I'll bring it in and show it to you. Why would I want to say that?

Journalist Are you saying that someone has reported you saying "bollocks to Newcastle?"

JK Yes. Lovely.

Journalist I don't know who's reported that.

JK I'll tell you what, I'll bring it in.

Journalist That's obviously going to damage you. That's not a good thing. But I don't think someone's done that. We have to have some sort of relationship with you.

JK So have I. But I haven't come in here for you lot to take the piss out of me. And if I'm not flavour of the month for you, it don't fucking bother me. I've got a job to do. And I'm going to do it to the best of my ability. I'm not going to spend any more time listening to any crap or reading any crap. Stick to the truth and the facts. And don't twist anything.

Journalist You know, you know the game ...

JK Of course I know, but I don't have to like it.

Journalist Today we'll print the absolute truth, that you think we're cunts, we can all fuck off and we're slimy. Is that fair enough?

JK Do it. Fine. Fucking print it. Am I going to worry about it? Put in also that it'll be the last time I see you. Put that in as well. Good. Do it.

Much, much later after long discussions over whether Kinnear had promised Alan Shearer and Kevin Keegan would be returning to the club

Press officer Let's get on to football. Let's have an agreement that everything said so far, if anyone has got their tapes on, it's wiped off and we're not discussing it.

Journalist But that's what Joe has said he thinks of us.

Press officer I'm saying don't push it. Let's accept what's been said and try and move on.

Journalist: Move on to not doing any more press conferences?

PO: No, to doing something now.

Journalist: What, one press conference only?

(Silence)

Journalist: Any knocks?

PO: Come on, let's go football.

Journalist: What are your plans for training in the next three days? How's the training going?

JK It's going very well. No problems at all.

Journalist Enjoyed getting back in the swing of things?

JK Absolutely. I've loved every moment of it.

About a month ago I received the most pleasant of surprises when an Editor I work with (a really groovy and wonderful lady named CLARE KENT) gave me a nice little hamper, all the way from Australia! Of course, being the chowhound that I was I decided to eat the gift before I actually blogged about it. Still, I did drop a "thank you!" e-mail to Clare, but at the same time I felt a little guilty that I didn't send her anything when I had the opportunity before (Images of Andrew Chan and Nicholas Crombie racing their really neat Hot Wheels cars that I gave them came springing to mind, along with the obligatory guilt-tripped feeling!).

 And so, after having put a lot of thought into it, I've decided to drop a special shoutout to Clare!!! :D Hopefully, I'll have the opportunity to send her something nice in future :) But for now, THANK YOU, CLARE for brightening up my day with the mini hamper of goodies! Nothing like chocolates and tim tams to brighten up my day, but I must say that it was the first time I ate Australian Twisties and I swear, they tasted crispier, with a hint of kangaroo in 'em! ;)

Check out the yellow stressball!!! :D Although I don't actually use it for stress, It IS a lot of fun to hold it next to my face and smile when people pass by my cubicle. It makes me look nutty, in a ball-sy sort of way...

I didn't want to have the word "penis" in my title, okay? -__-

In KL thus begins our story,

A tale of a moron and his butt-naked folly,

He should be thankful he's not bruised, broken or bloody,

For those that emerge unscathed from this sort of thing are usually not many.

Called up to the UM Medical Centre the firemen were,

A most unusual distress call, leaving them very unsure,

But when they got to the scene, they all shouted "F**K!"

A guy had stuck a ring into his penis, and gotten it stuck.

Misguided and horny, this bloke really was,

He thought the metal ring could give him a mystical force,

But increase his sexual prowess was not what it did,

In fact, it only served to make him look stupid.

Things got complicated when Mr Happy started to swell,

Lodged at the base, the ring was giving him hell,

The firemen decided they needed a plan,

Out came the wire-cutters, they couldn't do it by hand.

Gingerly they placed a plank underneath him,

They proceeded to cut and he proceeded to scream,

Like a girl he writhed while squirming and crying,

But eventually they were able to slice through the damn thing. 

Let's hope that the jackass learned a valuable lesson,

For, this whole incident could've left him dead,

And remember: When it comes to sex, love and passion,

Dude! Why didn't you just use a rubber band instead?!

They came to the picturesque town of Edinburgh,

The rats of the sea, they called 'em,

But now they've got the residents going "URGH!",

Because all they have brought is mayhem.

Seagulls have got the Scots all uptight,

And it ain't just because of their terrible shite.

"Aggressive urban seagulls", is the term that they use,

These buggers have bad tempers, and a really short fuse.

The initial battle will start in the town of Dumfries,

They'll destroy all the nests, and off the babies,

"Seagulls are a menace to Scottish towns and cities",

said the Environment Minister while he chewed on some haggis.

The gulls are a problem, they thrive on litter,

They divebomb at people, and even other critters,

One paperboy in Dumfries abandoned his route,

Everytime he got near them, the seagulls would shoot.

The Dumfries town councillor,

said the time for talk was now over,

Said he: "They're not gonna have a prayer,

'cos I'm packing my revolver!"

So if you happen to be passing

This great Scottish Town

Be sure to ask "Exactly what's cooking?"

After you hear the double-barelled sound.

I'm not sure if the killings

Will make the situation better

If you ask for my opinion,

They're out of their kilter!

Specially dedicated to Sean Connery, who won't declare war on seagulls and go James Bond on their asses.

For the real story, click here.

No, I'm not in love. I just couldn't sleep -________-

Love is...

...convincing yourself that you're really special, only to discover that you're not as special as she is.  

...discovering that she makes you really really happy, yet makes you really really upset, at the same time but in a good way.

...looking at each other by accident, saying "What?", and then laughing.

...that glint in her eye when she mischievously smiles at you after a nasty prank that left you seething.

...looking up to the sky and asking why why why, then looking down into her eyes and going sigh sigh sigh.

...buying her a Happy Meal to cheer her up just because she said she felt like crap today.

...giving up the toy you got with the Happy Meal, even though you really wanted to keep it.

...writing her a song without rhyming her name more than once.

...writing her a song while rhyming her name more than once.

...giving up the last piece of chocolate to her, even though it's her fourth piece.

...helping her match her clothes, even though yellow doesn't go with everything.

...listening intently when she explains the difference between a pull-string and a wing-tip.

...not laughing out loud when she shows you a pull-string and a wing-tip.

...cheering on her favourite tennis player, even when she complains that you're not as good-looking as he is (damn you, Rafael Nadal. And Novak Djokovic. Thank you, Marcos Baghdatis and Nikolay Davydenko!)

...never getting tired of saying "These are the bestest, chocolatiest, chewiesest, awesomest, delicousest cookies ever!" everytime she bakes cookies for you.

...opening the door for her, but letting it hit her butt as it closes and then running away while saying "but the door never moved, dear!"

...gritting your teeth and singing along to "Bleeding love" whenever the song plays on the radio, because she's singing it and she's sitting right next to you.

...letting her hold the popcorn AND the drinks.

...saying "hi" to her online, and then quickly running over to her cubicle to say "hi again!" before rushing back your own cubicle.

...laughing like a hyena, but not telling her that she laughs like one.

...not hiding behind her when a big cockroach is flying across the room. 

...trying to guess what the hell she just painted by going with "safe" answers such as "the colour of love" or "a feeling that lasts".

...SMS-ing "I heart u til it hurts" everyday to her.

...singing the lyrics to "I love it when you call" by The Feeling everytime she calls, and then hanging up so she has to call you again. 

...noticing her new hairdo when it really isn't new, and quickly saving yourself by switching to "I love how that dress makes you look so radiant!"

...taking her to watch you play football with your friends, and winking at her when you score a goal. Pretending to draw a giant heart on the field also counts.

...remembering that "peach" isn't just a fruit, it's also a type of colour AND using it in everyday conversation.

...honestly being able to tell the difference between eggshell, flesh and beige whenever she asks you.

...ordering salad and a glass of water just because she is.

...not getting mad at her for treating you like a 5-year-old and enjoying it instead.

When it all falls down,

And you're hitting the ground,

When you've given your best,

But just can't pass the test.

It's frustrating indeed,

Enough to make you cry,

But in your darkest moment of need,

You try and you try...and you try.

When you find out who you really are,

Acceptance won't be very far,

You should never change just 'cause someone said so,

The people closest to you, are the ones who REALLY know.

At the end of the day, we decide how we do,

It's not about us, it's not about me, it's not about you

The Lord decides, determines our success rate,

So what'll it be...chase your destiny, or be consigned to your fate?

I just finished watching a brilliant French Open 2008 tennis match between Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic and I must say, although he was eventually beaten in straight sets by a terrific performance from Nadal, special mention must go to Djokovic for maintaining a cheerful facade and happily signing autographs for fans at courtside immediately after that. Real classy, Novak. You're one of a small handful of wonderful player personalities who are ready to oblige the fans even in the face of defeat!  

SPUD

Single Person Urban Dwelling

Meaning: The new generation of dudes and dudettes who do not engage in relationships and remain unmarried, preferring to focus on their careers or themselves instead.

Well...just call me Mr Potato! :D

Short note: On 7 April 2008, my grandmother passed away. I miss you, Atuk.

Dad and Mom are still away in Mecca doing their Umrah(think of it as a pre-visit of Mecca before performing the Haj) and are due back tomorrow. Interestingly, Dad conveyed this interesting story to my brother yesterday night. This was their fourth day of Umrah, if memory serves me correctly.

Dad had just started reciting prayers for my late grandma (the Umrah and Haj can be performed on a "representative" basis for deceased friends/family members) when he suddenly got a call on his cellphone. Of course, he didn't answer it because he was in the midst of reciting prayers. But then after that, he checked the number that called him and he was surprised to see that it came from my late grandmother's house, where the maid was staying alone. He called back to check on why the maid had called his cellphone. But here's the thing: The maid did not call my dad and neither did she know what his cellphone number was. Furthermore, there was nobody else in the house at the time.

So, who rang my dad? I guess we'll never know.

p/s: I don't know if Dad would ever admit to this, but I'm pretty sure that if there's one thing he regrets about Atuk's passing is that she never got the chance to see our new house. Her health had become too frail, and we literally couldn't take her out of the house without the aid of an ambulance. While Atuk and Dad didn't seem to have a very talkative mother-and-son relationship(Dad's a man of few words), deep down I could tell that Dad loved Atuk very, very, very much and by the way Atuk looked at Dad, I knew that she was extremely proud of him and very happy for him. *sigh*.

Spare a thought for the femal ferret because:

A female ferret will die if it goes into heat and cannot find a mate.

Gee...I wish I'd been born a male ferret. I'd save soooooo many female lives!

A group of twelve or more cows is called a flink.

If you found the above fact useful...somewhere out there, a flink of cows is missing a member of their herd.

I salute you, Ms Bernie Garcia!

copy-pasted WITHOUT permission from www.newsoftheweird.com :

Angelo Trujillo, 20, became the latest, in March, to attempt to rob someone who was pumping gas (at a Smith's store in Santa Fe, N.M.). The customer, Ms. Bernie Garcia, 83, calmly sprayed Trujillo with gasoline, sending him fleeing (but he was soon arrested). [KOB-TV (Albuquerque), 3-13-08]

I can't think of the amount of times I've been pumping gas at a gas station and just wished that I could spray someone with gasoline. Oh sure, if you spray it on your OWN car it's an ACCIDENT, but if you spray it on someone else it's "attempted manslaughter"! Hmph. Really just world we live in, huh?! Still, you gotta respect Ms Bernie, who at 83, still had the presence of mind to use her gas pump instead of reaching for her pepper spray. Gotta love them octogenarians.

For the benefit of people who don't read "Harian Metro"(a very privilleged lot, I can tell you), I will now reproduce a story that appeared in it and made me fall off my seat. But first, let me assure you that I am not a regular reader of "Harian Metro". The only reason I read it is because Dad brings it home along with Malay Mail, New Straits Times and The Star. When all my family members are reading any of those three, I have no choice but to just casually browse through "Harian Metro". Half the time, I don't even read past the first paragraph of the first page. But this story really grabbed me. It's called:

“Ketika itu, Mat Rempit terbabit yang dalam keadaan khayal selepas menghidu gam memberitahu, dia tertelan gigi palsu itu,” katanya.

Katanya, pasangan itu bersama kumpulannya itu kemudian balik ke rumah masing-masing kira-kira jam 12.30 tengah malam.

Bagaimanapun, kira-kira jam 8.30 pagi, Mat Rempit itu merasa perutnya tidak selesa.

Bimbangkan keadaan kesihatannya, dia mengambil keputusan mendapatkan bantuan di sebuah klinik di Bahau bagi mengeluarkan gigi palsu itu.

“Doktor yang memeriksanya memberitahu gigi palsu itu tidak dapat dikeluarkan lalu mengarahkan remaja itu pergi ke hospital untuk membuat imbasan X-ray,” katanya.

Sumber itu berkata, Mat Rempit berkenaan yang bimbang rahsianya diketahui umum pergi ke sebuah hospital swasta di Melaka untuk menjalani pemeriksaan X-ray kira-kira jam 11 pagi.

“Doktor yang merawat Mat Rempit itu mendapati gigi palsu terbabit masih berada dalam perutnya dan memberi sejenis ubat cecair bagi mengeluarkannya ketika membuang air besar.

“Kira-kira lima jam kemudian, dua gigi itu dapat dikeluarkan,” katanya.

Jumaat lalu, remaja terbabit dibenarkan pulang ke rumah sebelum menyerahkan dua gigi itu kepada teman wanitanya.

Gigi itu bagaimanapun dicampak gadis berkenaan kerana berasa geli.

Tiada sebarang laporan polis dibuat berhubung kejadian itu.

The Nopopo(that's "Non-Pollution Power", baby!) liquid-powered battery is claimed to be able to run on any liquid. You basically insert any type of liquid into the "teat pipette"(HAHA, TEAT PIPETTE!) and the battery can run up to an incredible 20 hours. Apparently, at the product demo, the promoters showed it being tested with apple juice, beer and water. They even claim that it CAN be powered via saliva and urine.

Yes, I've always believed that the earth's energy problems can be solved if people would just learn to better utilize their urine. Which reminds me of the device I created a while back, but failed to get any patents or investors for it. It was a turd-powered water-saving toilet. You basically poop in it and flush it down with the poop left-over from the previous user. Except for the smell and high infection and death rate, it was a real winner, like the sweat-powered vibrator I also invented. But that's a story for another post. 

As if USB gadgets couldn't get any tackier, a company (whom I take great pleasure in NOT identifying) has come up with a USB humping dog. Available in (surprisingly) very office-friendly colours, the humping dog is made of cheap plastic and comes with a USB port for a penis. You plug it in, and the dog humps the USB port. It doesn't even have built in flash-memory, and so will do what most dogs were put on this earth for: Hump. And we all know that humping, when not performed by humans, is an extremely disturbing sight. Like the time I was at the jogging track in the park and a male monkey decided to do an impromptu hump on a female monkey. It jumped from a tree, grabbed the female by its tail and proceeded to hump her doggie(or is it monkey?) style, leaving the 5-year-old girl who was walking with her mother extremely traumatized and screaming "WHAT IS THAT MONKEY DOING?! WHY IS IT ATTACKING THE OTHER MONKEY?! MOMMYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!" as well as scaring the shite out of her. Okay, it was me, but I swear that I looked really good jumping down from a tree.

Someone once asked me if I have a boring job. Here's what my co-worker has to say:

Thought of the day: If you're going to sleep at your desk in the office, be sure that I'M not around and armed with a camera.

Amazing, astounding, incredible? No, it ain't.

Dad just bought a treadmill for the house. It's really fun, but not as much fun as reading the user manual (It's a Taiwan-made product, hence the "colourful" language). After initially struggling to understand the instructions, I came to the conclusion that the "Jih Kao Enterprise" treadmill is all about pressing buttons randomly and hoping that the thing will fire up. In other words, it's the same thing you'd do if you were in a gym. Anyway, the last page of the manual really caught my eye:

Now why would they go and make an "Exploded Drawing" of the treadmill? I guess "Exploded Drawing" is what happens when disgruntled treadmill users run too fast or smash it to bits in a fit of pique.

Usually, I pride myself in writing original material for my blog. In this case, however, I am glad to say that all the content below did NOT come from me. Except for the last sentence, of course

From Gizmodo:

Prepare yourselves, dear readers, for the greatest invention of the 21st century so far: the Breast Massage Robot. Yes, this miracle of modern science is designed for all sorts of women, from "girls who are reaching or having reached puberty, hope to improve the growth of breast" to "women who want to improve the quality of their sex activities" to "women who want to have pretty breasts." And it only gets better from there.

The device is the brainchild of one Mr. Wang Wei, founder and proprietor of Beijing BUBBY Robot Technologies CO., LTD. His business proposal for the Breast Massage Robot is the best thing I've ever read in my entire life.

As a result of market research, we specified our targeting consumer groups which are listed below:

1.Girls who are reaching or having reached puberty, hope to improve the growth of breast.

2.Women who received surgery in the breast, desire to have a faster and better recovery.

3.Mothers, who are nursing babies, want to release the pain and to accelerate the secretion of breast milk.

4.Female who is having the period, want to release the swelling pain of breasts.

5.Women who want to lower the incidence of mastopathies.

6.Women, who are under pressure, want to relax themselves.

7.Women who want to improve the quality of their sex activities.

8.Women who want to have pretty breasts.

The Breast Massage Robot stimulates massager's hand movements to perform comfortable massage. It is capable of automatically adjusting itself to fit various breast shapes. It also features good portability and a variety of massage programs.

We will sincerely corporate with investors to make the BMR the hottest high-tech product worldwide.

He then goes into great detail with an equally-misguided business plan which I recommend you check out as well. (http://massage99.blog.sohu.com/) So, any investors up for it? It's "expected to be filling market vacancy and in great demand," so don't miss out!

I'll say one thing, though. Mr Wang sure doesn't know much about creativity and innovation in NAMING his product...BUBBY(boobie!) Robot Technology?! COME ON!!! Give me a break.