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If I were asked to explain all my jokes my body of work would assume sacred proportions and the exegesis (commentary) would soon exceed the original discourse. But I shall don my professorial hat, the sage green one with the long pheasant feather and beer and mustard stains that I picked up at Octoberfest and do some ‘splainng’.
Comment peut-on expliquer une plaisanterie, sans lui enlever son humour?
The French philosopher and donut shop owner, Henri Bergson, explained, « le rire est ‘du mécanique plaqué sur du vivant’, c’est-à-dire qu’il provient d’une rupture dans la fluidité du mouvement « (laughter is ‘the mechanical encrusted on the living’, that is to say it comes from a break in the flow the movement). But that has little to do with my my joke. That simply explains why we laugh when Charlie Chaplin falls on his ass and allows me the opportunity to peacock my knowledge of French and continental philosophy. I’m not just one of those logical-positivist bitches sucking on Witgenstein’s crusty teats.
Here we go. Jesus and Mohammed have what in common ? Not much. Mohammed was camera shy and Jesus was like, ‘check out this crucififixion pose’, ‘check out my abs’, ‘does this crown of thorns make my ass look fat?’ What they have in common is that both were prophets. ‘Prophets’ is a homonym for ‘profits’.
Jesus saves what ? Anybody — you there in the back with the maroon Haj hat. What does Jesus save ?
Correct . Jesus saves souls. Allegedly.
But, playing on words, we have a subtextual resonance going here on ‘profit/savings’.
People who save are conservative, putting their money in banks. As opposed to people who – you, the lady on the left with the green jilbab that matches the bread you’re eating – people who save are opposed to people who…
Correct ! I’ve said ‘correct twice and that qualifies me for Singapore citizenship. The other qualification is eating pork three times a day, so I’ll pass. Your country is just one big f*cking shopping mall anyway. In fact, the armed forces of Singapore consists of mall cops and old men who cane teenagers for chewing gum. F*ck Singapore. You’re only good for visa extensions and Android phones.
So, we’re at ‘Jesus saves, Mohammed invests’. I just threw in ‘designer goods’ because of the stereotype that all Asians are obsessed with designer goods to validate their status and differentiate themselves from their bajakan poor origins that their ashamed of. As if I can’t tell you have no class behind your Gucci sunglasses.
Now ET, call home…
Merci beaucoup. Thank you so much. That makes sense, especially the last paragraph. To quote also Henri Bergson: There is nothing in philosophy which could not be said in everyday language.
Now back to business (=girls).
Lately this thread seems to have veered stylishly into a poetic direction. Therefore I kindly offer you my own contribution for Christmas. After all, only the gods speak in verses.
Dedicated to Yo*, the 5′ Bitch (not Indo but Caucasian), a victim (sic) of pre-puberty incest, who used this misfortune to gain sympathy and compassion and then turned it malevolently to her advantage with the psychologically unaware.
I thought you were special
my muse, my heaven, my dreams
a rose for all seasons
unfortunately it seems
For some perverse reason
it gives you a kick
to hurt and insult
and make people sick
That you broke my heart
I must humbly admit
who was to expect
you are so full of shit
But you were so stupid
no less than an ape
cause last time we spoke
I got it on tape
Remember your phone call
and my voice mail machine
about you and your grandpa
you were barely a teen
That you did compare me
I will never forget
and as long as you live
I will make you regret
So f*ck off and vanish
stay as far as you can
when this thing goes public
and shit hits the fan.
* names and places have been altered to protect the innocent.
Selamat Hari Natal (also for the muslims whether they like it or not)
I Can’t F#cking Sleep the Night Before Christmas
My life is a yardang curling through the Sinai,
an illuminated arc, a geologic spine eroded on one side
by life (remembrance) and the other by death (forgetfulness).
I am reproached for the dualism I’ve manifested
between mind and body, the Cartesian schizophrenia
that is modernity, chasing polarities — at what price?
Let’s blame it on faulty wiring, genes not up to code.
The hardest truths to swallow are the earliest –
that there is more in life than fruit that is perishable.
I saw the watermelon rind of a smile of my first cat
lying dead in the gutter, her lower teeth frozen in
the grit of impact, replaced by many cats thereafter
bearing her identical name – Frisky – the first one,
apparently, not frisky enough to dodge a 1961 Impala.
Is that how we deal with the toxicity of transience?
Replacement, displacement, distraction?
Do these palliative obtain for the death of a loved one:
‘Sorry for your loss, here’s a puppy’.
The morphology and syntax of death scrapes for meaning.
We dance around its inevitability like Astaire, in a sidelong shuffle.
We are dragonflies, flapping desperately in our hunger
and our fleeting winged iridescence.
Moses’ Torah ends before the Jews enter the Promised Land
prophetic to a life of wandering, whining, golden calves
and quiet miracles, always one beat short of fulfilling
my promise because I was too busy toasting a bagel,
flipping channels or photographing the cols and cwms
of the desert with my Canon – in the name of art.
Though I’m at a loss to define death
life pulsates with the lure of one more river to cross.
Just one more, God.
That’s my New Year’s resolution.
So f*ck you Santa
and the reindeer you rode in on!
P.S. Merry Christmas y’allz! I want you to be more naughty than nice this holiday season because nice is f#cking overrated. Now that I’ve raised the bar (or lowered it, depending on your POV), let one and all wax poetic about Idul Christmastri…
This is out of topic but other participants may also be interested. Is it possible to provide a tab on the interface with access to a chronological or tagged listing of all threads that have appeared on IM? Many topics contain a wealth of information and research. Thanks.
Balipoet and ET,
You guys got me trippin reading your posts!
I think ET’s idea is good.
Anyway, merry christmas everyone!
I think ET’s idea is good.
Let’s call for a referendum.
An Indonesian girl crashed our wetback themed Christmas party. She was such a dog, but I’ve got to admit, a helluva dancer!
MISSION IMPOSSIBLE: SEDUCING THE INDONESIAN GIRL IN 24 HOURS
You’ve got 24 hours to part your date from her panties like that number Moses pulled on the Red Sea when the Egyptian charioteers pursued those stiff necked Israelites rushing to a ’Going-out-of-Business’ sale in Canaan. Put Charlton Heston in a corner and he either goes ape shit, clutches a Winchester with his cold dead hands or parts the seemingly unpartable…As always, should you or any of your IM force be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions. Good luck, Jim or Jack Bauer or whoever the f#ck you are. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds because we have not yet invented the indestructible compact disc.
Events unfold in real time.
No.1 Unbalance your Date
It’s important to quickly unbalance your date so you have the immediate advantage. Don’t force her against the Octagon cage with a flurry of punches and elbows to her face. Save that rough stuff for the bedroom. All you have to do is ask about her about ‘past lovers’. This will help you quickly assess her FF (F#uckability Factor) and, Heaven forbid, whether she’s holding on to her precious maidenhead with an iron grip that has not been seen since the Kaiser Franz Joseph grabbed the last dinner roll at the Congress of Berlin in 1878. Virgins possess the WTFF (What the F#ck Factor). Don’t waste your time with these nuns cause your getting none. They are as useful as a bicycle is to a fish or as democracy is to an Indonesian. Let someone else break them in or rig the election. The candidtate with the most toys always wins. If she’s been around the block she most likely been hurt or may still be in love with her ex-expat name Pat or just expat exPat for short. Become chummy with her and comfort her about past mistakes. Wipe her tears, smudge her mascara and share a good cry. Now you’ve positioned yourself into being just ‘one of the girls’, her besty and confidante. Don’t be shy. Tell her your gay. She’ll do all the rest to set you straight. It’s called ‘empowerment’.
No.2 Dream of going anywhere special?
Asking about her past travel destinations and where she dreams on visiting in the future. When she mentions Bali or some promotional destination on Air Asia’s route (Vientienne for $10), become the knight in shining armor and offer to make her dreams come true. Soon you’ll be sharing a honeymoon suite on the beach and being her personal rough guide on this lonely planet.
No.3 Got MILF?
Ask about her mom. Maybe she’s even a better candidate for a rebound f#ck. Her mother probably experienced a bad divorce or separation, especially at a young age and was, of course, cheated on by her ex-Indonesian husband (does a bear shit in the woods after he eats bakso?). She’s as wound up as a cobra in a glass slipper for a good hammering. That makes no sense but I couldn’t resist the graphic image. She’s hornier than a convict just released from prison. Become a switch hitter and play ‘Who’s your daddy?’ on weekends and ‘Who’s your mommy?’ on weekday afternoons.
No.4 How’s your suck ass job?
Carefully steer the conversation and let her go into the mundane details about how fed up she is with her life, her stupid boss, her mind numbing job. By now she’s on her seventh margarita. Present yourself as her savior transforming her worthless job into a fulfilling career. Maybe one day you’ll help her open a business of her own, design handbags or start a hotel. You’ll fund the whole ad-venture using Monopoly money. Buy her Boardwalk, build a hotel and wait until someone lands on the property and you’ll be rich. Or hire a hitman to murder a Supreme Court judge and buy Dreamland like what’s his name. The possibilities are endless when you’re not using real money or your Tommy Soeharto.
No.5 Eye on the Prize
Now, on her ninth margarita, she is looking at you with that sparkle in her eye. Her body language says you have her undivided attention. She’s curious to see what other great adventures you have in store for her. Keep hinting at a world of alternative realities, designer goods, travel, partying with the upper crust – all preferable to the dismal state that defines her life – when she hooks up with the right guy – namely, you.
No.6 Snooze Time
She’s asleep. Ten Maragarita’s was her limit. Recharge your batteries.
Jeeesus, don’t you need Viagra after all this trouble?
When I was still living in Phoenix I used to take it easier. I rode around the block a couple of times on my Harley – actually I had three different models but that was easy because I worked for them – or parked at a mall and picked up any cutie who smiled at me and that was it.
But I admit you can’t do that on a Vario in Bali and I’m not going to pay 100% bea cukai plus bribe to import my favorite capitalist tool just to slalom between the potholes on Bali’s backroads or risk my life in a madhouse that is euphemistically called a Bypass. So I kind of sexually retired here which is a sensible thing to do considering this f*cking climate and save my energy for when I have to do a visa run. Anywayz after all these years those Indo chicks all begin to look the same, clutching a handphone – even texting – while riding their Mio’s hypocritically pressing their knees together to avoid masuk angin.
ET, there’s a cunningly hidden archives page – http://www.indonesiamatters.com/archives/ – but date based archives are not that useful, then there’s a tag cloud on the About page – http://www.indonesiamatters.com/contact-us/
What a term that F**kability Factor! I suppose the magnitude of this FF varies for every female as a function of myriad variables including age, preference, belief, estrogen level, former experience, etc, etc. Good luck on assessing it on every girl you meet. Maybe you should invent a tool called F**kability Meter to save time and energy.
I hope you’re currently only reloading the missiles, or taking a “kuda-kuda” position if you prefer, to launch the next attack.
Thanks David, I’ll bookmark these pages immediately.
Maybe you should invent a tool called F**kability Meter to save time and energy.
I exists. It looks like a credit card, with a magnetic strip.
That’s my point. Unless you really are seeking for a long lasting relationship, why should go through 24 hr hassle, if credit card can help you to haggle?
why should go through 24 hr hassle, if credit card can help you to haggle?
Absolutely. And the magnetic strip can be used to unlock the door.
Every Tomo, Dono and Indro know they can never compete with an alpha male descendant of Casanova da smooth talkin’ thongs excavator like Pak Balipoet
or even with a credit card look alike holder like Pak ET for that matter, seriously they have unfair advantage to score with them ladies.
I’m looking forward for more secret insider tips from Ceu Deta here.
How to even out the harsh playing field out there
what make hot/smart/decent women tick? or how to form a lasting relationship with them
(and maybe to “get lucky” too, I knoe I’m pushing the envelope).
Mmm… I am not an expert in this field, Kang Agan, though I don’t mind sharing my two cents (equal to Rp 184,- according to today’s currency rates):
The bottom line is, every woman needs companionship. Call me romantic fool, but at the end of the day, they just need someone to talk to, to share their worries and turn their tears into laughter (even just by watching Shaun the Sheep together). And should you wonder if you will get reciprocal treatment from this sacrifice, don’t you worry. It won’t come overnight, but the so-called smart woman should understand that a mutual relationship needs fair share of giving and receiving.
So, let others play in that harsh field of their own while you create the blue ocean strategy, now that you know that the key to win a woman is really to win her heart. Lame, but true
[to win a woman is really to win her heart]
Deta, I promise you I can play that game too !
Look only into my eyes when we make love
for if your glance should stumble elsewhere
you will see not me but my deformities,
the misshapen amalgam that is me without you.
In loving you, you’ve rendered me perfect, whole,
rectified, an unblemished Adonis to your Dawn.
Your eyes need never stray beyond mine,
for in their rheumy orbs you shall behold
the Big Bang of creation, the sensuous dance of Shiva,
the birth of humanity, the awakening of consciousness.
Just look in my eyes and I promise you will behold
the universe entire,
with you at its center.
this is my story as a warning. I came to Indonesia on a 10 months internship, and I had dome pretty bad ideas about dating SE Asian girls. I thought you only had the choice of virgin or prostitute and I didn’t want either. But obviously within about a month I met this girl from the office and changed my ideas, she was great, or amazing in fact. we were both about the same age, she’s a “good girl”, educated and from a good family, definitely not a bargirl, and the relationship was awesome, I’ve never fallen that hard before, we had a lot of fun, and her family were absolutely awesome to me. She had lost her virginity to her local ex about six months before meeting me, he had promised to marry her but turned out to be cheating on her )typical indonesia story!), and was pretty cut up about it, but soon forgot it with me.
I had already arranged to go home and do my masters after the ten months and we talked about this from the start. I stayed for a couple extra months after the internship then went back. we were so totally into each other we agreed to try long distance and then once I was done with school I’d come back get a job and get married. It seemed to work, lots of chatting, huge phone bills then I came to visit for 2 months the first summer, then we fixed a visa and she came to Canada in year two. It was awesome to see her but something was not right, we started fighting for the first time, she started getting really shitty, I mean REALLY shitty with me and started giving me shit about when we’re getting married (although we discussed that already). I totally didn’t get it but still wanted to make this work so when I was done came back out. no jobs in my field so I took shitty work as EFL teacher. Her parents were still super cool, and actually had me live in their house, sharing a room with her for a month until I got my place sorted. Really thought within a month or two we would be back on track. But still something’s not right and more and more grief about when will we get married. By this stage I’m getting pretty bad doubts, but still love her, and she’s still totally in love with me, and feel responsibility to her parents. So finished my contract and we still haven’t set a date, things getting a bit messy, I took six-months work overseas, came back for visit, then take four months overseas. Now we’re at breaking point and I figure just got to bite the bullet and do it. Figure it’s just the marriage thing that’s f*cked us up and everything will be like it used to be if we go for it, so I come back, get engaged, she’s stoked, folks stoked, but something still not right. We do it without condom for the first time and I come straight down with an STD. She goes postal when I try to discuss it. Get tested on visa trip to Singapore, confirmed. Time to talk. Finally truth comes out, just a couple of months after I went back to Canada first time, she starts cheating with some local guy in her office, says she was lonely and he flirted with her, but turns out he has a wife, and an STD which she didn’t know. Then turns out its happened six f*cking times since then all with local office guys who flirted with her, promised to marry her, all had wifes or fiances. f*ck. I never cheated once. says she loved me and wanted to marry me the whole time.
Basically I feel like I’ve ruined my life. f*cked my career. half me wants to go bck to her, but I’ve got to respect myself. I was 27 when we strated and I’m in my 30s now. back then I could still go to a club at home and hook up with a 22 year old but what should I do now. I know I need to go back home and get a real relationship with a real woman from my own culture with trust and respect but don’t know how to start after 4.5 years of baby talk and being the bule boyfriend don’t even know how to approach a western girl anymore. gonna end up bitter and alone. all this time I was laughing at the chauvinist white guys married to maids and prostitutes and talking about how I had a real relationship with an Indonesian but I guess those guys had the last laugh, they basically don’t want a real wife as equal partner, they kno what they’re getting into and they get it. I’m the f*cking loser. So this is my take on Inonseia dating, all the local guys in Indonesia are bad, none of them respects women everyone cheats and uses prostitutes although they have wife/girlfriend. The girls are super romantic and obsessed with marriage but also super naive and easily talked into putting out by predators at work, school etc. the guys knows this and that’s why they are so possessive with their women. That’s your only option if you’re with a local girl too, even if she’s a good girl from a good family. If she’s got a job and if you’re not always around even if she totally loves you you’re f*cked in this f*cked country.
I guess if you want to marry a prostitute and know what your getting into go for it. But if you want a relationship based in equal partnership trust and respect forget it. You’ll end up f*cked up like me.
So, let others play in that harsh field of their own while you create the blue ocean strategy, now that you know that the key to win a woman is really to win her heart.
Seriously, what’s so special about a woman’s heart that it has to be ‘won’? Can’t you just give it away without considering yourself to be prize?
ET, I was just being poetic. But if it is so important for you, you can change the word “win” with “get” or whatever you like. No big deal.
Seems that RJ80 is too harsh in make sweeping judgements about Indonesia. That being said I want to relate my own experience. Working in Jakarta as a free-lance consultant I met a girl who tutored me in Bahasa Indonesia. She worked for a Christian NGO in Jakarta. One thing led to another and within 2 months we were lovers. After 6 months I married her, church wedding and all (her family was Dutch Reformed Protestant) and we lived together for several months, both in Jakarta and Singapore. After returning to the States I brought her over and we started a family – 2 boys. However after 6 years as a wife and mother she became restless, started dating other men and eventually moved in with a guy 20 years her junior. I left with our boys (8 and 9 years old at the time) to live in another state. After I divorced her she married her young lover and left him after 5 years. So my Pentacostal wife turned out to be a slut.
RJ80 – you seem to have fallen for the office slut during your time in Indonesia. Be glad you did not start a family with her as I did. I have read about similar horror stories regarding foreign men and Philippinas (check out the stickman Bangkok website for details). All I can say is better luck next time and caveat emptor.
For starter, when indonesian parents let you sleep with their daughter (not legally married) in the same room, it can be a big question…
Secondly, she flirted with married men, I definitely can tell about her… She must already knew they were married, cut the bulls, how could she did not know?
Thirdly, she told you that she lost her virginity to a local man who promised to marry her… You should know that this was the very first sign of her unstable mental, desperate-ness, naïve-ness, etc.
I’m sorry RJ80, you definitely deserve better. Get over it please… Because I believe you will meet someone in the future…
First of all, I have no idea how a woman can let other take care of her children, even the father of her children. But I heard some similar stories from my expat friends.
Secondly, I don’t want to judge, but again, I personally have no idea how a woman can marry a boy who is a lot younger than her. Nothing big, but it’s just icky.
Thirdly, you and especially your children deserve better!! Goodluck!
ET, I was just being poetic. But if it is so important for you, you can change the word “win” with “get” or whatever you like. No big deal.
Now it’s my turn to be poetic
Is it possible for a woman’s heart also to be stolen instead of to be ‘won‘? It may be only a nuance but I’m sure you get my drift.
babalouie, yes I keep telling myself that about the family and I guess it’s true but I actually wanted to have kids with this girl.
Thanks for kind words bonni but still feels pretty shit. Seriously feel like a don’t even know how to approach a real canadian girl any more. You’re probably right she knew the guys were married/engaged or at least didn’t make any effort to find out (it is a big office, loads of departments several hundred staff, but I guess you’re right).
The thing that really f*cking hurts is now as far as her folks are concerned I’m this evil bule who broke it off and broke their daughters heart. they have no clue about the truth. And these were people who were so good to me for so long, really took me into their family. They’re kind of half really modern and liberal (like letting her go off on holiday with me etc) half really traditional about family and stuff, like they wouldn’t let her marry a Muslim (she’s christian I’m baptized catholic but totally non practicing but for them that was close enough anything but muslim basically I think. And half the office guys she was f*cking were muslims too.
Her folks would throw her out of the house if they knew the truth and half of me wants to go right back to jkt now and tell them the truth about their daughter but obviously i couldn’t do that. no f*cking justice in this world when I think about how all her family will be seeing this breaking off engagement as example of how westerners are all bad and immoral and unreliable. bullshit. bullshit lying hypocritical country.
In order to show you my deepest sympathy to your life story, I’m gonna try to use the word “f*ck” in my posts to you, the way you like it.
Funny thing, she should make an effort to find out whether the man she f*cks already married, yes, if she was serious enough about that f*cking (literally) relation. Although, I still find it a bit strange for indonesian dating pattern.
No matter how liberal the indonesian parents are, if there is no ‘big question’ about that family, they will never allow their daughter to sleep in the same room with the boyfriend she’s not married to. Christian is pretty liberal… But still… But anyway…
So what if her family think you are this evil bule? You are not f*cking related to her anymore, right?
I know man, you’re f*cked. But drink it away, man. Why should wasting time feeling sorry for yourself. That’s her lost anyway.
ET, what’s so special about a woman’s heart that it needs to be stolen? Can you just ask for it nicely, without considering yourself as a thief?
Like the nigga said 400 years ago…
Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more.
Then, if for my love, thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest;
But yet be blam’d, if thou thy self deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty:
And yet, love knows it is a greater grief
To bear love’s wrong, than hate’s known injury.
Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
Kill me with spites yet we must not be foes.
Nothing has changed, no truer were spoken,
Theft is theft, all else is but a token.
Once love departs, the heart lies torn, bereft:
Deta may call it ‘given’; ET still calls it theft.