Friday, April 28, 2006

Triple Trouble Threat - Three Ts That Thou Thinketh Titles This Thread

Ladies and gentlemen. And ladies.
On the back of wild celebrations - instead of a horse, galloping into the sunset after another gunfight - since our announced partnership with Google, a majority of the company has taken ill due to hangovers, although foul play has not been ruled out.
Fowl play however, in the form of some minute avians has been uncategorically ruled out, despite being obvious suspects, since the mere idea of such punnery would make the Potshots staff even sicker. Oops.

Fowl play can be deadly, sejak Zaman Kesultanan Melayu Melaka.

At least half of the staff has been unable to contribute to Potshots' daily, dairy or hairy operations since early this month, due to the illness mentioned above, the recently concluded talks with Google and too much time spent taking pictures of snails.
Whatever the raison d'etre and whether there was an agent provocateur who incited too much à la mode during the night's joie de vivre, all we know is that this will not stop Potshots from bringing you the par excellence in risqué and rouge repartee thanks to the greater than ever before esprit de corps.

In other news, Potshots is now offering evening classes for those who are too lazy to click on links to find out the meaning of borrowed words used by English writers/journalists (or in fact, bloggers) who use them for no apparent reason other than to make a reader click on a link to find out what he is trying to say. C'est la vie, eh?

Voila, fresh from the fryer a minute ago.

Meanwhile, our brand spanking like a discipline teacher who's just caught someone smoking in class new email address has received a rather insightful correspondence. Here it is, reproduced verbatim, with no history tampered at all.

Underground Mail via Wormhole
From: Jill Satria Civic
Date: Apr 27, 2006 10:01 AM
Subject: "First World Mentality"

Dear Daft 'Equinely Hung' Oi,

I don't know whether this is worth blogging. But as always, that is not the point with you. The point is truth, whether Rashomon, Pokemon or common.

The reason I am emailing - besides to proposition you, of course - is to inform you of the lack of good First World mentality in places where you most expect it - the FIRST WORLD ITSELF!
I was appalled, when I arrived, to find such a hideous sight. Just look at it!

This was only after I had visited their modern, state-of-the-art website where I took an eGENTING Virtual Tour and found such beauty in how their hotel foyer was rendered. It looked perfectly in sync with the Satria GTi that was parked in its foyer. It had me dying to park MY SATRIA GTI THERE TOO!
So, without further a deer, a female deer, I decided to book a long stay there at the soonest possibility where I could take advantage of their low season rates, instead of their shoulder, chin, nose, head, peak, super peak, peek-a-boo or prick prices. After consulting their seasonal charts, I finally found a period that was perfect!
So here I was, a decade later, with my Satria purring like a meowing hyena outside their hotel and I am aghast at what I see. It's enough to make a man commit suicide. Thankfully, I am woman. Women hold up half the sky. Because we are afraid it will fall. Funny, cause the other half doesn't seem to fall either.
But nevermind that, we must change this First World mentality and force them to repaint their building to something less 'mental'(I funny or not, Daft?).

Best regards,
Jill Satria Civic

ps: enclosed here, are two pieces of my used underwear, fresh off my creamy buttocks. Just for you, my hero!

I told you it was verbatim.

For those of you still with us, the last piece of information in today's triple goodie-two-shoes pack is that the Malaysian Blog-of-Record (unlike the NST, which isn't, although the Blog-of-Record claims that NST claims it is, a newspaper of record), Screenshots, has broken the "cardinal rule of good journalism. There is no source attributable to a reliable spokesperson."

His Holiness, the Cardinal Rule of Good Journalism, before he was broken.

In a recent entry, Ooi claims that people are asking something he cannot prove they are asking. But a nagging question begs asking: are these people make believe? Is his oft-cited Joe Public nothing more than mere fictions of his imagination? Are his Little Birds even less tangible than he claims? Who knows, but if any Jill Civics or Little Earthworms report to Daft Oi on this, you'll certainly find out, post-haste!

Friday, April 21, 2006

Google now a Potshots Premium Partner

In the past few days, Potshots has not been updating its website as it had frozen - like those peas, corn and carrots that come with your hawker stall chicken chop - its own operations while negotiating a sponsorship deal with Google Ink, which comes in blue, red, yellow and green. I like green.
Lo, and behold, Google was so impressed with Daft Oi and his team, that they have offered him the position of top search result when you type in daft oi on your google search bar.

A fatter type of Lo, before he became a DJ.

Even better, they've also decided to help out any Jill Civics who want to get jiggy with Yours Truly, Madly, Deeply, by allowing them to type my name and let Google know they're feeling lucky.
"We are proud to have signed this longterm contract with Potshots as their brand, which is associated with honesty, accuracy and hari-hari makan nasi, will definitely help us pound the hapless Yahoo!li!gan!s! into submission," said Google Business Development Director Goo Gurl, who is a self-confessed Jill Civic type of girl... Type-XXX, that is.

Goo Gurl, Ogling & Googling, all night long.

In lieu of payment, Potshots Public Limited Conqueror of Universes will receive a whopping 2700+ MB email account for all loyal and patriotic fans to get in touch with Oi and have cybersex with him (note: only fit chicks need apply). The latter is all thanks to Google's generous offer of integrating Gmail Talk functions for this email address. The humongous mailbox, according to Gurl, will continue to grow in accordance with the size of public lust for Oi's hot, boiling and waiting to explode like Mount Merapi sexuality. Don't jeles.

I'm too sexy for yahoo, as most recently reported by analysts.

With this new development of course, Potshots will change its email address to reflect its new partnership with Google. In return, Google will provide Potshots with an integrated and scalable prioritised news feeds into his email interface like so.

Google news, right at my doorstep, from now on!

Not only that, Google promises to help Potshots to achieve record profits by offering the latest news of the best bargains according to whatever Oi is talking or typing about. Google is getting so intimate with us that it's like sharing a prison cell with Tom Cruise and Elton John at the same time!

So, my esteemed readers. Waste no time, get on your bikes and ride to the nearest Internet connection. If you find a handicapped or preschooler using it, don't worry, shove that Screenshots reader aside and do your bit for justice and freedom of the Press to quote Google as an official source by emailing us!

Friday, April 14, 2006

Loser likes winning

Ladies & gentlemen, boys & girls, Daft Oi will admit any day to being a fast driver. Driving fast is what gave me my nickname back in my schooldays in the town of Tinbang - they called me 'fastie'. I like fast things, which is why I'm always watching motorsport, and since I'm also a patriot, I need always be training an eye on our nation's racing talents. This is why I've been watching the A1 Grand Prixs a lot, because our man Alex Yoong is blazing a trail over there, except maybe not blazing so much as sort of reheating the cold leftovers of a trail.

Yoong, bringing Malaysia to a glorious fifth place finish in the A1GP, which was recently concluded.

Alex Yoong is a big man, a man tooo big for things as small as Formula 1. That's how I always felt, which is why when I met him I'd say "Alex, why this Formula 1 nonsense, a man like you should aim for something bigger, like Formula 3 or Formula 500 or Formula 3000."
He never listened. Now I feel like corralling the guy and giving him the old 'I told you so', because he's just pretty much said the same thing recently, when he announced that he prefers A1 to F1 (note: just like 3, 500 and 3000 are bigger numbers than 1, so A is alphabetically bigger than F. Let's hope Yoong doesn't end up racing in the GP2 support races for the F1. Now that would be sinking low).

A race we hope never to find Yoong in, at least not until he grows up a little.

Yes, F1 is easy, peasy, lemon squeezy. After all, two of his former teammates at the now-extinct Minnowdi F1 team have ended up being Formula One champion and Team Williams' No.1 driver respectively. Piece of cake, this F1 business.

Anything Fernando Alonso can do, Alex Yoong can do better - by finishing second instead of first, on the same day.

Yoong explained that, "Formula One is the pinnacle of motorsport in terms of technology. It is about manufacturer against manufacturer, about engine deals and about money. A1GP is run by countries, the cars are identical, it is an equal playing field. The aim is to see which is the best team and driver, it is about the people."
Yes, Alex, it's all about the rakyat! The rakyat that you will never disappoint! The rakyat that saw you fail to qualify in an F1 race not once, not twice, no way, but three times, forever putting Malaysia into the F1 record books! Syabas and majulah sukan untuk negara!

Alex Yoong, making Malaysia known far and wide, for the past five years.

Yoong's opinion has been backed by veteran superboss and skirting-designer/remover of F1, Flavio "Flava" Briatore, "The people looking F1 because is everything together. Is the driver, is the team, is the performance, is the private jet if you want. Is the helicopter, is the girl, is the star. This is F1. Is the one big box with all these ingredient inside and are keeping the keys and we are sometime too arrogant as well. Including the team. And I believe you put a big mistake."

OK, then.

Even easier, peasier and squeezier than F1, is Flav's insightful statements on the sport, each and every time he ends up on TV.

Yoong also says that, "I would definitely stay in A1GP, it would have to be a good deal for me to move to F1. A very good deal!"
He refused to reveal what sort of deal constituted a good one, or even a 'very good' one, but with fellow A1 driver Scott Speed being the only man so far to move from A1 to F1, it would probably have to involve something incredible... like actually having an F1 car to drive. Not to mention enough talent to drive one. Perhaps he's holding out for a sponsor to help him leapfrog over that unfortunate 'talent' issue, the way 4D berjudi-judi honchos Magnum did when they offered to help the Minnowdi team continue existing in exchange for them making Yoong one of their principal drivers. Money for letting Alex drive, in other words, in the sort of deal that happens all the time in Tijuana or the shadier streets of Bangkok. Perhaps, if Potshots could so humbly suggest, he should get his current sponsors Proton to help the Stupor Aguri team of Japan, currently said to be in a position occupied by Minnowdi back when Yoong was F1's 'Defensive Driver of the Year'. Proton could give Stupor Aguri some Iswaras, which they could look at after each race, have a hearty laugh and thus relieve the stress of being designated losers. In exchange, the Aguri boys could let Yoong drive. Heaven knows, that'd provide enough comic relief without the Iswaras.

Not the ones that Yoong would want, for next season.

But Yoong is not a man to be underestimated. In his previous association with the pussy's excuse for motorsport, he came out the undeniable winner in a gamble with Magnum, striking the proper 4D combination to have himself sponsored by the promoter of our local traditional sport of crowding around an accident scene.

Supporting Malaysian motorsports, for generations to come.

After all, someone has to pay for the fact that Yoong has to work longer hours in an F1 car than he does now in an A1 car. For example, in Sepang, it's a 310km race, taking this year's winner, Giancarlo Fishyfellah 1.5 hours to complete, whereas the A1 race was a 165km affair that the faggy peace-loving French won, with a supersonic time of 1 hour. You're in and out in the time it takes to watch Teri Hatcher prance around before getting laid by the gardener.

But if any of you are math geniuses, and I know that at least one of you is, you'll realise that the average speed for an F1 race is over 200km/h whereas for an A1 skip-around-the-yard, it's 160-odd.
Meaning, Yoong would have to work much harder and risk higher chances of getting hurt in an F1 race. SO, YEAH, F1 TEAM BOSSES, BETTER PAY OUR MAN ALEX A SHITLOAD OF CASH OR YOU'LL NEVER SEE THE LIKES OF HIM OR A MALAYSIAN CHICK IN THE PITLANE AGAIN! Oh, wait, forgot about Yang Berbahagia Datuk Panglima Kosong Kosong Tujuh Kuda Melonjak Michelle Yeoh.

Datuk Michelle Yeoh, flying the Malaysian flag high in F1, every time she goes to bed with Jean Todt.

When asked to comment on whether he would finally win a race next year instead of finishing second twice in A1, or his career best seventh in F1, achieved after seeing off Pedro de la Rosa in an intense battle to not finish last in an eight-car race, Yoong refused to comment, instead walking off in the arms of his loving wife Arianna Teoh, sobbing and whining about how nobody appreciates him. The problem was exacerbated when immediately after that Yoong heard the name 'Karamjit Singh' being mentioned, something which never fails to send him into a flurry of desperate sobs. Teoh was later heard saying "There, there, he's not better than you, the earth's gravity is just a bit stronger everytime he races, so his downforce is better. Rallying is eeeaasy..."

Let's face it, you'd go sobbing to her too, as often as you could.

Don't worry, Yoong, it's okay if Karamjit has five hundred and twenty three times your talent and half the opportunities you've had, because here at Potshots, you are always appreciated for bringing a smile to our lips, specifically, the ones on our faces, just like everything else we talk about here.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Daft Oi tames the Wild

Like a bridge over troubled water that was proposed 10 years ago and already invested in but then cancelled, Potshots is back with more scintillating analysis, not to be found anywhere else on the planet. Ok, more like eavesdropping, actually.
Be afraid. Be very afraid. At least mildly terrified. Because your kids will want to watch The Wild, because "got lieyearnss and geeruffss and koala!"
Eyes have not seen, ears have not heard, butts have not been this restless, since Catwoman produced a Halle Berry that seemed to be fruitier than her name.

They sure don't make 'em, like they used to.

Is this movie funny? Does it have great animation? An interesting storyline? Well, of course! It's Disney!

What could be funnier than a giraffe? Haha, it's got spots and that neck! It's ridiculous! It's perfect. I guess that's why Madagascar had one too.

Giraffes, hahahaha, snort, hehehe, could laugh at this, hahaha, forever.

What could be better than lifelike animation? I guess that's why The Incredibles sucked with its cartoony stuff, huh? Cartoons, hehe, who watches such juvenile shit anymore, right?

You know this, right? Haha, you're a loser, officially starting now.

And the plot? Sublime! Just check out this conversation I overheard on opening day between a snotty-looking 14-year-old girl and her horny, 18-year-old boyfriend who was busy trying to look down her top and blocking my view.

Artist sketch of the view that I missed, from three years ago.

Girl: This movie very fun wan. First there's a zoo in the middle of the city.
Boy: Oh, you mean like Madagascar.
Girl: No, because then at night the animals will come out and play.
Boy: Like Madagascar?
Girl: No, they play and then one animal will run from the zoo. Then they all go find him.
Boy: Madagascar lah!
Girl: No, cause then they have to go on a boat and all that and find him in the Wild!!!
Boy: Madagascar also got, what!
Girl: No! Then in the wild, they will discover some dancing animals!
Boy: You mean like Ali G in Mada-
Girl: No! It's some cows-la. Then they'll all discover true friendship and forgive each other.
Boy: Oh, like a teen movie.
Girl: Ya! That's why we must watch!
Boy: OK-la. Hey, you dropped your hairclip, bend over and get it.
Girl: OK.

Dancing cows can be disturbing to children, especially during a movie.

Once again, this has been Potshots, the first to the trivial shit that is trivialised everyday on a daily basis. Just to prove that I am serious about The Wild, I am offering two tickets to Pak Lah and Lee Hsien Loong to watch this movie and see for themselves how they can settle bilateral ties once and for all and then we can hear the tiger and lion roar. Or the merlion. Or whatever.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Penang-o bang-o bang-o

It may seem as though I have abandoned you, my lovelies, but that is simply an ill illusion. In fact you are always on my mind, when the lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes, oh Mandy. What happened was I took the weekend off, inspired by the Mighty King of the Malaysian Blogocastle, Jeff Ooi, and visited Penang Island.

Under normal circumstances I would do what Jeff Ooi refers to in his post on going to Penang as a ‘Joe Public’ and go to Penang via public transport. This would be because Joe Public can’t afford a car, although Jeff Public can.

But while Ooi decided to ‘do a Joe Public journey’, I decided to do something a bit different. Since the Government has asked us to 'change our lifestyles' in these days of fuel price hikes, I decided to do a Prince Leopold of Bavaria journey and drive a BMW to see how it would burn my pocket.

Hahaha, a total and utter lamebrain, recently.

The second thing was to avoid trying out the new public transport system that the Penang state government implemented effective from April 1. In this way, I won’t turn into some kind of perpetual whiner who secretly believes that Penang ought to become a republic and be allowed to turn into a dirtier, poorer, slightly less overhyped version of Singapore. Anyway, I worked out that taking a BMW would cost me RM275.20 – RM200 on petrol, and RM70 on tolls, and RM5.20 for snacks.

However, taking a BMW, didn't actually cost me the simple calculation of RM275.20 getting from Point A to Point G, without stopping by at Point F. As Jeff says, “There are many other hidden costs which I can't claim for reimbursements from anyone else.” The biggest cost in this case would be the constant risk of turning into some sort of feckless pain-in-the-arse who spends the first few paragraphs of his post talking about the high cost of modern life in a lame attempt to make people like him. Such is the life of a Prince Leopold of Bavaria.

Life is hard when you've got this many medals, circa World War I.

To get to Penang, first I drove to the ferry terminal. Then I drove onto the ferry. Then I drove off it. Then I drove onto the island. That’s about it, really. Saw lots of stuff from the inside of the BMW, which was cool like a whorehouse by the Mexican border, where they’d just fitted two-zone climate control. Firstly, there was that sore dick Komtar building, which could be seen clearly from the ghetto, standing out like proud early morning wood against the dawn sky, as the other buildings around seemed like maidens who had lost their maidenheads to the giant sore dick and were now very sore themselves.

Yes folks, it's the Night of the Sore Dick, last night.

I drove through what Ooi so evocatively termed the “city slumps in Penang”, and realized what he meant when he noted that “Penang has no plan for urban redevelopment. It looked like a terminally sick patient now entering the hospice.” Presumably this patient is male and his terminal sickness is the cause of that sore dick that he keeps complaining about. Maybe he should have spent more time with the maidens and less in the whorehouse.

The thing that shocked me the most, though – and this was the same thing that upset Ooi – was that it appears as though no attention at all is being paid to the development of Penang’s public transport system. As one of the woolly commenters on Ooi’s site has pointed out: “I think the public transport in Penang is comparable to the 3rd world country.” He did not specify which 3rd world country. Given his indignance, probably not the 3rd world country that Penang currently resides in.

But I empathise with him nonetheless. Penang's buses are a shambles, there’s no rail service to speak of, taxis try to con the pants off you without actually wanting to do anything nice and sexual and this results in a terrifying, um, result – Penangites take to the roads themselves. And drive.

Example from a Penang driver's holiday photo album, two weeks ago last Tuesday.

It is well-known and scientifically proven that Penang drivers are the worst in the universe. Their food may be so delicious that it is singled out as a mortal sin by over 27 global religions, but their drivers are just horrid.
They haven’t even invented cars on Mars yet and the little green drivers there are better than Penang’s. The French drive on the wrong side of the road and Cambodians drive on all sides of the road, but Penangis drive on whichever side of the road the oncoming traffic happens to be taking. When you use an indicator light they think your car’s malfunctioning. If they get to a curvy road they defy it and drive straight anyway. They think rear-view mirrors are there for them to check their eyeliner and flirt with rear passengers. They think the fast lane is for people who are fasting. Which is why, for the purposes of Prince Leopold of Bavaria the public transport system MUST be improved, to GET THESE PEOPLE OFF THE ROADS NOW.

Look look look see - this guy's driving in the wrong lane, every single day.

I find myself agreeing with Ooi on this matter, because if the public transport system is not improved, Penangians will continue to mire the roads of our nation in fear, stupidity and a total inability to get the hell out of the way. Some on Jeff’s blog have suggested that ministers and other public officials of note be made to take public transport in Penang so that they’ll understand the depth of the problem and work to improve it.
I, however, have a different suggestion – make them drive themselves around the island. They’ll be so frightened they’ll not only pump up the public transport budget, but they’ll turn into religious folk overnight, soothe their sore dicks and never sleep with anyone other than their spouses ever again.

So this is Potshots, freshly full of overpriced char kuay teow from the angry sister with the safety goggles, saying buy new busses, set up a monorail, hire new drivers*, institute the death penalty for not staying in your own lane – whatever it takes, just do it so that driving to Penang will once and for all not involve driving among Penangoids.

*Please hire drivers from outside Penang. Please.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Thousands die as History succumbs to digital manipulation.


After the latest spate of either somebody twiddling his fingers or filing her nails or fudging up some pictures, thousands of lives have been claimed in the devastating aftermath of History taking a walk in the park and suddenly being ambushed by some shady characters.

Another shady character, just before a downpour.

The first signs were uncovered by the Shepherd Whose Rod and Staff, They Comfort Me, Jeffovah Ooisbergskistein, who expertly deduced - without a calculator, mind you, to his mother's great pride - that pictures by Reuter's photographer Basuki aka Bazuki aka Whatever Else Jeff Wants To Call Me Because He Is A Great Journalist And This Means He Checks His Names and Facts Religiously had been digitally manipulated by either Ba?uki, Reuters or the newspaper that published the manipulated image, Berita Harian Kecuali Ahad.

Rumours that Ooi used an abacus are unconfirmed, as of now.

Whoever the guilty party is, it became obvious that the price of an eye-catching picture devoid of some monkeys making people faces is far too high as the earth-shattering and sky-dropping after effects of such unrighteous irresponsibility started to unfold, doing the very opposite of what a Filipino maid might do after doing the ironing.
To illustrate that this was no game of chance that the media was playing, Ooi proceeded to tease us with a little puzzle, asking "Now, take a look of the pictures again. Spot the difference and tell us, which one is the faked Bazuki?" before proceeding to tell us exactly which one was the original.
Now, perhaps this may still be a tough one to crack for the average Screenshots reader, since it's only in school that they teach penaakulan mantik, everyone's favourite gameshow on the Math Channel on TVP. But for the rest of us, a short bit of chin-stroking after overcoming the initial burst of "What the hell is Jeff Talking About" coursing through our cranial neurons, would reveal that Ooi is talking business, and not just the sort of business that he writes of for The Scribe.

Dropping to second, on this week's favourite gameshow list.

And so it was that the ghosts of the missing monkeypeople went to visit History, who was trying his best to be original and not be repeated, which he always fails to do, but tries anyway. These spirit beings proceeded to knock the bloody stuffing out of History, although it only turned out to be rather old cranberry stuffing instead.
And so, reality and the universe themselves were shaken to their very roots - whereupon, my trusty Earthworms finally realised that something was going on.

Artist sketch of old cranberry stuffing from the temporal crime scene continuum, just minutes ago.

They hearkened unto the whaling wails of the walls of the world and discovered that history has been changed forever! Just like in that movie where Arnold Schwarzeniggahplease goes back in time to end Michael J. Fox who ends up sleeping with his grandma and ends up being his own grandfather which explains why Fry is such a retard in the end.

Watch out Fry, he's going to get you, sooner or later.

My Little Earthworms have uncovered in this new, changed history, America apparently decided not to invade Apple's iRaq or Afghanistan and instead pulled out all their troops from the Middle East. Such a pussy move resulted in those rabid Jihadderizing Angels of Death continuing to destroy buildings across America, resulting in far more lives being lost than in the wars (that now don't exist). After all, logic dictates that if someone complies to your demands, you can always expect that person to continue to be your bitch.


Don't believe that history has been changed? Just check out what Ooi, in his capitalised and emboldened state, said earlier today;

JEFF OOI says: ...An apprentice cook like you want to meddle with bolts and nuts in a mechanic's workshop? Or an alchemist's lab?

...and also

JEFF OOI says: ...We don't suffer fools here.

Human civilisation has had its fate rewritten and now, Screenshots has an entirely new readership, totally devoid of the fools who thought that since this altered picture didn't lie, it's only akin to an article that has some facts edited out due to irrelevance. Why did we ever listen to such deviously seductive common sense that appealed to our wicked nature of good judgment?
Even more disturbingly, bolts and nuts are found in an alchemist's lab! If alchemy instead of chemistry exists today, then the Age of Reason has not truly taken over and magic still exists! The Stone, Bronze, Industrial and Band Ages got all confused and rolled around until we are left with but one last frightful question to ask...

"Why does a question that begs also have to nag?"

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Crossword (Puzzle) ***FLASHYNEWSFLASHY***

Saviour of the Universe, Jeff Ooi has uncovered another heinous crime on the part of the mainstream media monsters! As he has reported in a post today, the long-standing crossword puzzles concocted by beloved humourist and all-round beloved person Uncle Yap have been discontinued in the Brand Spanking New Sunday Times. Yes, discontinued.

One Screenshots commenter, in between bleats and baas, had this to say: "Is it just me,or has poor Uncle Yap just become the innocent victim of a rather pedantic war-of-words between two very articulate yet very stubborn men?"

Yes of course! It's obvious! There is a feud on, a vendetta, and naturally it is a viciously effective tactical strike to discontinue the Sunday crossword puzzle in order to gain a strategic edge in this "war-of words"! Because, you see, just like in a war-of-fire you can never ignore the crossfire, in a war-of-words you can never ignore the crossword! I can't see why I never reached this conclusion earlier.

Potshots has sent out the Little Earthworm brigade to dig up more information, but for now they have only unearthed one interesting fact - it appears Uncle Yap practises a new form of religion that worships crossword puzzles. As Jeff Ooi himself puts it, "I do know Uncle Yap crafted his crossword religiously not for the money". I'm endeavouring to contact Uncle Yap myself and find out more about this crossword religion - which has been identified as 'Crosswordism' - as well as whether he considers himself to be like the Pope or the Dalai Lama, since he's the Uncle of this religion.

Until then, this is Potshots, always with the latest, the greatest and the updatingatest. Don't be a pawn, move the pawns, and remember Warcraft III is for wusses.

It is said that the Crosswordists have considered this book deeply offensive and heretical, ever since it was published.

Monday, April 03, 2006

"Untitled" aka "Jeff Ooi's Boon is Mills & Boon" aka "Erotica!"

It's a fact often ignored by my legions of adoring fans (this means you) that I am in fact quite a cultured and sophisticated lover of culture and sophistication. Without the arts, the blessed arts, what an empty life I would lead. Recently I was watching 'M! Th!e Ope! ra!!!' and I found it very artistic indeed, although not quite as affecting as the staging of Herald Punter's 'The Homecoming', which had lots of guys walking around on stage in their underpants. Of course I thought this was very nice for the girls, and is in line with the 9th Malaysia Plan, which has a lot of good things for the girls.

Under the 9th Malaysia Plan there will be many more men running around in underpants, which makes the girls happy, often.

So it pleases me no end when a fellow superpundit and personal mentor like the Hurricane Katrina of the Malaysian Blogoweatherpattern, Jeff Ooi, produces artistically cultured works that are pleasing for me to read. What surprised me upon hearing this news from one of my astute Little Bookworms, though, was the genre that Monsieur Ooi had selected for the flexing of his creative muscle - erotica. I must admit this is one of my favourite genres of fiction, introduced to me a long time ago by my friend the literary aesthete/VCD man. But what surprised me was that Ooi too shares this love for erotica, a much misunderstood genre. I say to all who condemn, just read the scripts for Gwendolyn Goes Down To Ghana and Caroline's Run Out Of Cows and tell me you won't be in tears by the last page. Am I right Jeff?

Jeff Ooi's good buddy Fabio says "read more erotica, dudes, or else I won't put my pants back on, and I already don't wear them very, often".

Ooi has posted regarding an interest in erotica before, and professed his love for Judith McNaught. He is an avid reader of romance novels and has studied the differences between various types of romance literature, such as Mainstream Romance and Erotic Romance. He challenges us to "find out if you belong to the older generation trapped in the belief that romances are just frivolous reading." Right on, Jeff, stick it to those fuddy-duddies. What's wrong with some good ol' throbbing member action, eh? As he goes on to add, erotica's focus is "the sex. It does not necessarily have stories that hinge on a relationship between two characters." Now we're talking, Jeff.

But this new entry of his is not just about furthering his status as a guru of erotica. No, this time he is actually producing the stuff for himself, oozing it out his pores like sweat off a man standing naked outside in the hot sun. Ooi's creative effort appeared in a post titled Milan, PDU 9516, and it seems to fall under an obscure category of erotica which deals with South Pacific Canoe Fever (SPCF), where subjects fantasise rather vividly about modes of transportation, specifically canoes.

Oh, you saucy tease, how you tease us all, often.

I have no idea if Jeff's fixation is a new offshoot of this disorder, since he never mentions canoes specifically, instead going on and on about cars, buses and planes. His erotica begins rather innocently, with Ooi outlining his decision to take public transport (as opposed to drive) back to Penang for Cheng Beng, which is a festival where folks get together to say hi to a bunch of dead people. At first he claims that he does this to "see how it would burn my pocket", but as with all great erotica this is simply the classic innocent premise that is subverted by the ensuing lust-filled extravaganza of lovin' - other examples include the 'let's all stay together in this haunted manor' premise and the 'excuse me nurse, but I've got a strange swelling' premise, both frequently used in the best erotica films.

Things start getting hot and heavy when Ooi gets off the express bus from KL and onto a local bus to head for some kind of jetty. There, as he recounts, the "'conductor', also a young Indian chap, just smiled coyly and collected my fare." It seems this young Indian chap and his association with the transport industry awakened things which are best left in slumber, for soon after Jeff produces these two paragraphs, seeded with a series of slippery similes, breathed over with the best of heavy breathing. Hold on to your pants, dear readers, for things are about to get hot.

"The bus was a ramshackle and has seen better days. Its inside was dusty, hasn't been bathed inside out for years. The temperature in the coach was apparently warmed by the leaking heat insulant and the aircon compressor noise. I could feel it was as uncomfortably warm as a whorehouse at the Mexican border.
The bus took us many residential areas, trespassing the ramshackle ghettos that made up Jalan Jelutong, Perak Road and finally around Pranging Road where Komtar stood like a sore dick. The familiar Shangri-:La Hotel seemedlike a maiden stripped of her virtue as it now looked more a traders' hotel."

I met up with erotica expert Dr. Littel Birdanathan, Professor of Comparative Comparisons Of Literature, You Philistines at the University of Eyesore, India. He singled out Ooi's writing as top-notch erotica.

"Notice, if you will, his that the bus he describes is dirty and "hasn't been bathed inside out". This humanises the bus, making it seem like a dirty loose woman who needs a good bath. He also repeatedly uses of the word 'ramshackle'. This is evocative of the ramshackle state of modern sexuality, with its many offshoots and permutations. So it's not just that Mr. Ooi is turned on by this filthy bus, it's that he takes the bus as a symbol for sexuality. The use of the word 'ghetto' is very evocative as well, as within the dictates of hip-hop culture the 'ghetto' is where you would go to seek out 'dem hoez', and as we all know Mr. Ooi has aspirations to be a rapper. He uses 'trespassing', as well, which segues brilliantly into his later simile involving the hotel that is like a former virgin who has now been trespassed. Finally, in a cunning linguist (hehe, ok, not funny) move, he has emphasised the phallic tradition of hotels by using a colon to turn the phrase 'Shangri-La' into the more visually phallic 'Shangri-:La'. Very clever indeed."

Bertie Bus and his sidelong glance make Jeff Ooi go 'hubba, hubba' and 'meow', often.

Beyond that point, Ooi's post drops the lush language and takes on a certain subtlety, which may or may not indicate an orgy that transpired at a transport depot involving a "young Malay chap, who looked like a college student", "an old nyonya", "people of my Joe Public type", as well as various "elderlies, Chinese, Malays, Indians, the South Indian Muslim converts". Sweet.

He doesn't state anything outright, but to people with degrees in Big Fat Dangly English Literary Bollocks like myself, sentences like this are very telling: "The second conductor 'negotiated' for us to board the second bus. But the driver of the second bus refused to let us in. He was going back to Bukit Jambil and Bayan Baru. When he smilingly endured the #@&* from second conductor of the first bus, we had to quickly to follow his trails as he made his way amidst the restless crowds back to the first bus."

We can only imagine what this mysterious organ called #@&* might have been.

As always, this is Potshots, your one and only site owner who's been called "full of shite, a dim wit and a muggy scumbag with soppy bollocks" by expert wannabe-British commentators, saying treat yourself to some erotica and take good care of your #@&*. Peace out and golden showers.

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Jeff Ooi champions bad phototaking... (2)

At Potshots, I am very remorseful. I have discovered that I am in fact a liar, a fraud, a manipulator of the truth. I know this because the Prince of Free Speech, Jeff Ooi, said so. He said so on his blog, the Crowning Jewel in the Blogotiara, Screenshots.

You see, Ooi's good buddy CY Leow, a photographer for a national daily advertisement delivery device, has been given a chance to post on a scourge that is warping minds and sullying journalism worldwide - photoshop. Leow goes into the reasons at length, and Ooi also features some comments from some guy who claims to be named John Long but denies being a pornographic superstar.

Photoshop is bad, I now realise that, so I would like to come clean on my use of such tools in the past. Sure, I don't actually use Photoshop, I only use Paint, but I have to say I Photoshopped these things because if I say I Painted them you beautiful morons are going to get the wrong idea.

Here is a cunningly photoshopped picture I made, using an image of a t-shirt from the internet and an image of Ooi's face...

...which I got from this untampered pic, in my earlier days.

Why is this Photoshoppainting of images so horrible? Well, think of the human casualties. CY Leow posted these two pictures on Screenshots and made clear to me what a horrible toll these practices exact on all sorts of nice things.

A picture of Ummi Hafilda Ali, professional virgin, a hell of a long time ago if you ask me.

Another picture of Ummi Hafilda Ali, professional virgin - but this time full of lies! Lies! Fallacies! Fabrications! Save our children from these fork-tongued photographs, before it is too late.

Yes, I'm sure your heart is rent in two now for the loss of those empty photoframes, cruelly tipp-exed out of history. As that worthy crusader CY Leow put it, "You readers might think that this is NO BIG DEAL, hello… you are CHANGING HISTORY, that picture is a WITNESS to history!"

Yes, 50 YEARS FROM NOW, dear readers, your children and grandchildren, bastards and grandbastards will NEVER KNOW that those two photoframes ever existed! Their knowledge of history will be terminally incomplete and skewed! It will be like that Michael J. Fox movie where he totally kissed his mum and stuff!

In order to atone for my past misdeeds of bumping off witnesses to history, I got into my time machine and travelled 50 YEARS FROM NOW - when it is revealed that Ummi Hafilda was, in fact, not a fulltime salaried virgin, but only an incidental, amateur hobbyist virgin - to get in touch with those two deleted photo frames, so I could ask them what they thought of the whole matter. Of course, I could just have tracked them down in the present, but that would have been the kind of thing those pseudo-journalists at Malaysian newspapers would have done. Real journalists use time machines.

Potshots: How did it feel to be so cruelly sliced from the bosom of history?
Left Frame: I was really upset about it. I went home and told all my family-members to look out for me in the paper, and then don't have. People don't even believe me now when I tell them that I was there. How?
Right Frame: Yes, but it was worth it to have seen that woman from the backside.
Left Frame: She's a virgin, you know.
Potshots: OK.

But at this point I'd like to point out the point that I am not alone in being guilty of photoshoppin', and I feel others should atone too. For example, there's the men's magazine FHM. Normally their standards of journalism are very high indeed, but I realised recently that they PHOTOSHOP THE WOMEN ON THEIR COVERS. Yes, readers, those ARE NOT TRULY HISTORICAL WOMEN. I experienced this for myself when I was very much enamoured by pictures of Asha Gill that they printed, until I met her in person and realised that she was dumb. Clearly FHM is guilty of photoshopping the dumbness out of those pictures!

Asha Gill, pre-photoshopping (left) and post-photoshopping (not left), before her dumbness became obvious on Channel V for Lonely Planet.

And if you think that's bad, look here:

Just look at this shamelessness. And what's more, it's from the prestigious Time Magazine. It's a man on the moon! A man. On the moon. Seriously. Who comes up with this stuff? We hope they will end this evil TAMPERING WITH HISTORY, sometime soon.

But alas (and alack), I have discovered that not even the Mighty And Terrible Ooi is immune from this Photoshopping disease. A Little Earthworm sent me an e-mail recently saying "Look at the post titled "How Dare You English Tabloid Editors!" and see if you think it's in bad taste." I checked and yes, it's true, Ooi has photoshopped images as I shall now demonstrate.

This is not the way the Wiley Miller strip looked when the NST published it! No, Ooi has removed the name of the Prophet Formerly Known As MHMMD in order to TAMPER WITH HISTORY as we know it, up to this point.

And if that's not enough, he went further:

Now Jeff, we all know you think the NST's production values are low, but do you honestly expect us to believe that they printed a paper with A GREAT BIG RED ARROW and a YELLOW COMIC STRIP in it?!! You have TAMPERED WITH HISTORY! Why do you let us down, Jeff, so bloody often?

Furthersomemore, that picture you see of him on his site? Yes, it's PHOTOSHOPPED TOO! Check this:

Clearly Ooi has altered this picture to make himself look as ugly as possible, because he heard that chicks dig the ugly guys and the pretty boy thing has actually been failing him, all along.

Perhaps all this stems from the fact that it has become part of modern culture to photoshop. Here, one of our Earthworms on the beat snapped this picture of some people photoshopping.

They're so eager to indulge in this evil, they even bother to queue up, for hours.

Clearly, all this TAMPERING WITH HISTORY must STOP. It doesn't matter that Joe Public and Jill Civic didn't care that the media alter images, they are deluded and we must protect their fragile minds!

Hence, to all bloggers, my advice is to stay your course. Don't be a pawn. Rather, you should be the ones pushing the pawns on the chessboard -- for the larger good. Just make sure you leave the queen for me to get jiggy with.

Traffic at Potshots goes through the roof of a hobbit's home.

Over the past two days, traffic at this butter-spreading-edge site has been... for want of better word, it's mind-boggling. Awesome even.
There can be only one reason for this, and it's not naked pictures of Siti Nurhaliza - although the very mention of that on this space will definitely result in a dozen hits over the next couple of days. Someone famous must've linked to this site!

Someone even more famous than this movie linked to Potshots, at 9.46pm last night.

After some in-depth investigation, meaning, I visited my sitemeter referrals page, I discovered that droves of what I can only assume to be people, since rumours of sheep using ICT other than visiting Screenshots is unconfirmed, have been beaming up to Potshots via everyone's favourite Malaysian exclamation - Aisehman!

All that beaming from Aisehman has turned Scotty into an old man, very quickly.

Apparently, Aisehman claims that we have Killer Wit. Potshots would like to take this time to deny that we are harbouring any murderers, let alone those whose name is Wit, or that we have participated in the death of anything except some Little Earthworms, lost due to lack of protection for journalists in the frontline.

Charles Manson is not to be found here, until he gets parole at least.

Whether this is because I once mentioned him too, I'm not sure. But Daft Oi's heart is warmed by Aisehman's gift and thanks him for doing his bit for liberty, democracy and afternoon tea.
Daft Oi would like to take this time to tell him and other friends of this site, "Thank you for your support. We are all patriotic bloggers and need to stand up for each other, kan?"