TheNightWasDarkAndStuff

Controversial issues have surrounded Green Tea, officially known as Ocha by the Japanese, and the effects that it has on the human body. Generally considered good for health, green tea has a few dark…dark…green secrets. Many have reported that their skins have turned to a shade of olive green after a comsumption of more than 6 cups of green tea per hour. "It’s NOT the shade of green I wanted!" "People don’t treat me the same, now that I’m green. It’s not easy being green." Other dangers of drinking green tea include insomnia, due to the caffiene content, excessive urination, and getting abducted by aliens mistaking you for their own kind. Brewing green tea should not be taken lightly. Using the wrong procedures when brewing green tea have been known to cause bad-tasting tea, scorn from peers, and death. A 17 year-old boy, a self-admitting green tea addict, who studies in Taylors, has reported that a green tea sapling has established its roots in his large intestine. The boy had reportedly only brewed the green tea leaves for 8 seconds, ignoring the 10-second minimum rule set by the International Green Tea Association (IGTA). The leaves survived the 8 seconds of 85 degree celcius water bath before being accidently ingested by the boy. The boy went through a painful procedure to uproot the plant from his rectum and has been reported to be recovering. On a seperate matter, tension is rising between the IGTA and the small, relatively unknown nation of Narnia. Narnia has reportedly banned the import of green tea leaves and executed a nation wide genocide and extermination of green tea, moments after the Emperor of Narnia declared green to be his least favourite colour. Delegates from both parties are carrying out negiotiations to avoid World War III. Although unofficial, IGTA seems to have strong ties with Japan as leaders from both sides have often been seen drinking green tea together. Green tea - a blessing from above, or the harbringer of World War III? This is the good stuff. Cheers.

Hoooooooo-boy. Friendster blogging has been a blast. Nothing like 3 clicks away from a freshly baked blog. Nothing like the swearing after a 1 hour blog getting deleted because of friendster’s shittay system or the darned ‘C’ key.

No music.

No pictures.

Make Living Life, Pangsai Central, Sub-MachineGun Land, BlackLight, TheNightWasDarkAndStuff a dull blog.

Right now, I plan on moving my online creative outlet to…*drumroll*…

TheNightWasDarkAndStuff.blogspot.com

DUN..! DUN..! DUN….!

Do not panic. Do not cry. I have not left you. I am still here. There is still hope. Just not on my friendster blog.

Now at least you won’t be left hopelessly dry and hanging when I stop churning intellectual manure every once in a while on friendster. I know you guys survive on The Gustaveness.

Yes, yes. No need to thank me.

Yes…I love you too.

No…I do not want you to worship me.

Yes, a six-pack of chilled Malta™ would suffice.

No, I will not forsake you if you don’t fork out the Malta.

*Sigh*…if you must know, yes, I am single.

Aiman, Hafiz and I are also tinkering with the idea of setting up a group blog.
*FUN FACT* ‘Gustave’ and ‘Hafiz’ are actually English words. Try typing them. No red-line underneath!

Ah well, when you are The Gustave, you get to um…*ahem*…convince microsoft and friendster that the names of the people you like, and approve of, are actual, proper words.

Type in your name the next time you blog.

See red?

Try harder.

Who knows?

Maybe.

Just maybe.

Someday, if you try hard enough.

You might.

Might.

You might make it into my top 50.

Till then, cheers!

This is The Gustave, over and out.

The few days after Biology was fun, I accomplished a few things.

Slept over at Marvin’s house after 6 hours of gaming.
Headshot tons of scouts on TF2.
Learned how to play StarCraft:The Board Game.

Set a new high score for a Hammer bashing strength game in an arcade near my house. (Yeah…Aku hebat!)

Hunted for some nice songs, or hopefully nice, songs in mph…so I could download them for free on Ares later.

Shot Khristie over 60 times with my BBgun.
Scored a hit on Khristie’s left nut and made him scream with my BBgun.
Had a mini gunfight with Mark, with an unwilling Khristie as a hostage.
Scored more hits than Mark even though he had a gun with a calibrated laser sight.

Discovered that fart is flammable and that sharks fear dolphins. Thanks to the magic of YouTube and the genius of the MythBusters.

Managed to get a sore throat.
Missed an ISKL play.

Created a Facebook account.
Poked Tasha, Aiman, and Marvin.

Updated my blog.

Cheers.

A’vast, fellow friendster bloggers. D’ya yer’ ever notice before creating a blog post, the list of "featured blogs" friendster has chosen ta embrace? Argh. It be a mound of whale poop, I say.

Since february 2007, I must have been seeing things, because a "featured blog" must somehow be active. Well, yer might say, more active than my blog anyway.

But since the month of february, argh, I’ve been seeing "Man peels coconut with bare teeth in 20 seconds" by Tommy.

What be this nonsense, says I? Who be this featured Tommy lad? And why, in the name of the noodly Flying Spaghetti Monster, has he not been posting anymore ripe ovary of a plant peeling stories by men with bare teeth?

Argh.

Go ahead, says I. Go request ta be featured. See what happens, matey. They might very well blast yer blog right down ta Davy Jones’ locker, I say.

Argh. May His noodly appendage be with yer, laddies!
R’amen.

The long twisted road of Mission Hollywood is long…and…um…so very twisted. Yeah.

The second roadblock stares at me like a ginormous mound of mutant dog crap, blocking the only way through. Getting past would mean going through some Semi Permeable Matter.

SPM, bitch.

SPM stress has a wonderful effect on people’s moods. Mainly turning them from fun-loving stupid teenagers (stupid teenagers…kinda redundent, eh?) into angry Schizophrenic monkeys hooked on caffiene and ritalin, ready to rip out the grootch of anyone who says more than 3 non-SPM related words within earshot.

The grootch is the little piece of skin right smack between your legs, behind the scroutum. Interesting, isn’t it?

The days left to that one test which may very well determine how people look at you for…oh I don’t know…the rest of your life?…has hit double digits.

25 more days. 600 more hours. 36000 minutes.

How will you spend your next hour?

This is dedicated to all those brave, brave souls who bravely brave SPM. We share your pain.

Cheers.

Make the world a better place. Kill your school busdriver, today!

sBy this age, I am supposed to have lost my virginity, smoked weed, driven a car for more than 10 meters, and report someone for statutory rape.

Unfortunately, life has not turned out the way I have expected. I cannot even legally expose myself in public. Not that I have ever done so, hypothetically, in front of fresh, hot,young, girls. Not that I intend to do so either.

In other news, I am proud to announce that as I turn 17, I have gone 4 days without pleasing myself. However, I have frequent headaches and feelings of fatigue. Must be a withdrawal syndrome. I also take this opportunity to declare that I have gone through 3 DotA-free days out of 7.

Then the clock hits 12.01. My cell phone is flooded with birthday messages from fertile, available females.(Probably because I rarely delete any messages and have space for 4 extra sms to come in at any given time.)

I sit here in front of my computer fantasizing about Mission Hollywood with comrade Tasha. I then told her that The Hush Sound’s music videos are nothing like what I imagined at all, with old men potting flowerless plants. The discussion moved from how much The Hush Sound rocks to how music dumb most Malaysians are to "bands that suck like nobodies business."

At this part, The Click Five and The Jonas Brothers found their way into our conversation. So did My Chemical Romance, but only briefly. ONLY BRIEFLY, Regina.

I finally wrote a song and attempted to satisfy my carnal urges in the darkness of 4.30 a.m.

I gave up and fell asleep at 5.30 a.m.

After a nice, solid one hour nap, I got dressed for school. I marched past form 3 lines listening to Sweet Tangerine sung by Bob Morris. During recess, I couldn’t help but notice Mark Sia inviting Aiman to enjoy the view of the Mandarin Court hotel, only for Aiman to threaten to take Mark Sia’s life. I then remembered that they had just painted the railings a slick, shiny, government-school-grey.

My leet genius, combined with my uber acting skills, and fused with that overeager, excited, psychotic look I usually have, managed to get 7 people to lean over the railing to take a look at "a grey mass in the longkang." Aiman and Mark made it look perfectly real.

Here are the people listed in chronological order:

1. Jedidiah (who went berzerk)
2. Thiru
3. Khin Yew (although it is unclear who came first as we combo punked them)
4. Vaasan
5. Jaya
6. Hafiz
7. Syed (who is still angry because his prefect’s tie was defiled)

We unsuccessfully grey-ed a form 6 girl because the paint dried up at a certain part of the railing.

"There, can you see a grey mass?"

"What grey mass? Where got…OMG!"

"On your hands la! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL"

I then got my english paper back from Jaya K. She says that I wrote the best essay in class. Aiman stared at me contempiously while muttering, "you are so lucky she doesn’t watch TV."

I ripped off the closing paragraph of my essay entitled "Life" from Heroes.

This is an extract from my essay, as defiled by Jaya K:
"Atheists see life as an "as it is" deal. They do not believe in superior beings. Eternal bliss in heaven. They believe that they get one shot in life, one chance to make a difference in life, for better or for worse. However, with no fear of reprocussions, this take on life may prove to be a double-edged sword. punishment from the Almighty, many of them lead unscrupulous and meaningless lives."

Oi, I am an atheist, you disrespectful, tissy-fitting bitch.

…or as Surrej more aptly says,

"Far-ker bus-turrrd."

I was then given the power to judge.

Well…kinda…by Shanti.

Yeah…totally…judged…

FINE! I spotted errors in one essay and spent an hour jotting down the marks of 2 classes. I called adam malik "condom malik" by accident. I then sang Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright in the class.

I stopped by popular bookstore to buy some really nice comics about our very nice politicians doing and saying very nice things. "This is war. By Georg Bush" is fucktacular. BUY IT.

I got a few more messages from hankering members of the opposite sex proclaiming their love for   people who cared about me wishing me a happy birthday.

I said "Hi." to Lianne on MSN and the reply came "Sorry, having sex."

…

…

I now have a hair styling product called ‘Moving Rubber’.

It is not a sex toy that is strapped to the head in order to achieve sexual arousal through pure, non-stop, hardcore, wobbly action.

Its hair wax.

I then sent Marvin "Is this what you want?" and the sequal "This is what you want!" created by Tomorow’s Nobodies. Check them out at Newgrounds.com.

Unfortunately, after THOROUGHLY watching BOTH flash movies, Marvin swore never to accept any media from me ever again.

"why would I want to see DICKS???"

"I do NOT find inflatable penises funny."

"DAVID EFFING HASSELHOFF and DICKS. I DONT EFFING CARE!"

I walked out on my dinner to catch a glimpse of Everybody Loves Raymond. I only returned when my aunt walked into the dining room and screamed. I rushed in only to witness lizard porn happening right on the spot where my feet touched the ground when I sat. The orgy of 4 lizards took notice of my presence and scattered like a group of teenagers caught making out in the fire escape of a shopping mall.

Lizard porn is so, so, very, wrong.

"Their tails will drop off half-way. Detachable vibrators!"

…says Lianne.

I then remembered that I had bought an overpriced pack of SMINT mints. 6 grams for 4 bucks. Still cheaper than weed though.

It is now 5 minutes to midnight. I sit here still, documenting my experience of my 17th birthday. I have survived another year in this crazy world. No drunken, deranged bus driver has managed to take my life yet. Yet.

Not a bad birthday. I conciously lived through 23 hours of the day, fatasized about Mission Hollywood, watched The Hush Sound’s music videos, grey-ed 7 people, ripped off Heroes, been given the power to judge, called adam "condom malik" by accident, bought some over-priced mints, recieved countable messages from people, got a jar of moving rubber, sent flash movies about penises (or is it peni?) to a very possibly aroused Marvin, witnessed lizards making sweet love below the place where I eat, and managed to finish this blog the moment my magical butt-spankingly sweet-17 comes to an end.

Cheers!

NATASHATASHATASHATASHATASHARACHELSHINODAAIMANARIFFTHEHUSHSOUND.

*ahem*

TASHACLAIMSTHATSHEWILLGOBLINDWHILERACHELGUSTAVEANDAIMANSUFFERFROMSPMSTRESS.

*gasp*

JILLANDGUSTAVEHAVENOTGOTTENOVERTHEIRFEAROFLIZARDS.

*burp*

MYFINGERSINSTICTIVELYITCHTOPRESSTHESPACEBARANDMYTOESAREITCHING.

*snort*

THEREISAPOSSIBILITYTHATGUSTAVE’SSPACEBARANDCAPSLOCKISSCREWEDUP.

*whew*

Now, now. Let’s see. I seemed to have forgotten to mention someone’s name. Hmm. I think it starts with a G…no…an R…hmm….no. Maybe an A. Nah. T…? Could be.

This post is dedicated to the crew members of Mission Hollywood.

"Mission Hollywood: Because we are not white or black."

Alright, in collaboration with 50 years of butt-spankingly sexy roti canai and teh tarik, you get the chance to be a part of BlackLight!

(BlackLight my blog, not BlackLight the dead friendster group.)

Right, in the comments section, post:

10 of your favourite ‘must-listen-to-or-bleed-from-fingernails-to-death’ SONGS and WHY.

5 of your favourite ‘must-read-or-die-of-diarrhoea-caused-by-ingesting-orange-fungi’ BOOKS and WHY.

5 people you can think of, wearing dark glasses and sitting in a kancil.

5 of your favourite ‘toad-licking-fun’ FOOD and WHY.

5 THINGS you want to do to someone you hate. You may list more than 1 person.

5 THINGS you can do with a long colourful rubber object.

5  things you love about Malaysia.

5 ‘certified-Halal’ things you hate about Malaysia.

4 ways to make the world a better place.

1 UB3R PfwNZ0rZ dream or fantasy of your choice.

…or if you are not up to it, just do whatever you feel like doing.

This is my 50:

10 songs-

Hallelujah, Rufus Wainwright. (Love, life, death and peace. gotta love it.)
High, Lighthouse Family. (Gets me high.)
All the small things, Blink 182. (Even those wall flowers go wild!)
Piano man, Billy Joel. (relaxing.)
Zombie, The Cranberries. (Anti war never sounded so cool.)
Speeding cars, Imogen Heap. (Very nice voice.)
My heart will go on, Blink 182. (Because I can play it.)
Iris, goo goo dolls. (teenager-ish)
Wine Red, The Hush Sound. (Pretty much anything by The Hush Sound rocks.)
Negarakuku, NameWee. (Lol. He said kuku.)

5 books-

One Big Damn Puzzler, John Harding. (Magical, believable, pain-stakingly and OCD-ly descriptive, light.)
Harry Potter, JKRowling. (MMmmm…Emma Watson.)
Rise of The Jade Pheonix, Robert Thurston. (Sci-fi favourite since I was a kid. Mechs.)
Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown. (Annoying Christians has never been this easy!)
Va Dinci Cod, AAA Roberts. (Lol. Parodies.)

5 people in shades and kancil,

Aiman, Berlyn, Rachel, Denise,Shanti.

5 foods-

roti telur bawang, my mum’s spagetti, blue cheese, tuna, steak.

5 things to do to someone i hate-

*reserved for future post*

5 things to do with rubber object-

Throw them at school bus driver.
Wobble in face of school bus driver.
Insert into rear end of school bus driver.
Insert in front end of school bus driver.
Erase mistakes on exam paper.

5 things i love bout Malaysia-

Food. Scenery. Chinese. Indians. Malays.

5 things i hate bout Malaysia-

Rempits. Toilets. Bus drivers. Censorship. SPM.

4 ways to make world better place-

Kill school bus driver.
Make DotA an olympic event.
Make wearing of clothes in public optional.
Make Gus supreme ruler of universe.

1 UB3R PfwNZ0rZ dream-

Mission Hollywood: Band together, rent a place in California, work, eat like a health nut, audition like there’s no tomorow, pull rest of comrades in as minor characters when you get your big break.

Cheers.

Gus is alive.

Yes. It’s true. No drunken bus driver has taken my life yet. Yet.

Thanks to SPM, I’ve been in an endless cycle of "rot in school-tuition-DotA". Somehow, a bunny eating its own feaces comes to mind. Yes, it is a metaphor. I do not have a fetish for bunnies or eating shit…or bunnies eating shit. Paris Hilton maybe…but not bunnies. Nope.

Alrighty, after swearing to myself time after time as the cool pipe water, courtesy of Alam Flora, gently cleanses my body of bus exhaust fumes, dried rempit sweat, and lipstic…I have finally decided to go ONE WEEK without DotA. That is correct! One whole week without DotA.

*Plays ‘DotA rocks your world’ by Devil’s Urethra*

Lately, as Rachel confirms, life has been "exams, tuition, DotA, exams. then there’s spm."

Holy fugging ballsacks.

I feel like crap. Awww c’mon, you guys know the feeling, duncha? You know…you wake up first thing in morning and say…"What…? Its 6 a.m already?! Argh…"

Then somehow, by superstudent effort, you make it to school only to find that your teachers are living the life of teenagers and not showing up in class.

*Imagine discipline teacher, ex: semang, at a nightclub dancing or rapping like a brotha’, yo!*

Ok, that was gross. We shall never go there ever again.

Aiman is getting pissed bored at school and the hard working teachers of Victoria Institution. He is writing more songs though. This is a good thing for Mission Hollywood.

Sally has been a wheee bit more chatty with me. That’s a good thing.

Denise and Rachel are still Denise and Rachel since I last spoke to them. Cept that Denise is high on Disney channel and Rachel is high on SPM.

I get high on whiteboard markers.

Alan is really freaking me out. Those of you who know, know. And those of you who don’t, do not despair. Keep trying. One day, who knows, you might just make it into Gustave’s Top 50 List.

Ru has been happy as usual, especially after writing a story about the life of a prostitute for her English spm trials. Damn…I know girls don’t have balls but…damn.

Gus has been rotting away playing DotA with his chinapek gang in Petaling Street. And by rotting Gus means that he uses Pudge the Butcher (pronounced by chinapeks as ‘but-cher’ and not ‘boot-cher’) to meathook an enemy hero and activate rot to pwn them. Gus has also been craving for attention and life. He then remembers the magic substance known as ‘caffiene’. He has been abusing chinese green tea since. Gus has also been writing songs for his band, Linear Equation. Whenever Gus looks in the mirror, apart from popping pimples, he fears getting schizophrenia. His only consolation is reading SilverFish’s 6th collection of short stories.

There seems to be nothing wrong with the people above except for Gus. Something is wrong. Very wrong. Something not even a cornily, obviously, titled blog post can fix.

Cheers.