Georgetterox

And
finally, the season of breeding comes up.

Not
just the birds
who wanna breed, but finally a few of my fellas are seduced to
taste the joy of the bridal bed.

Don’t
ask when my turn is. I’m still waiting Brad Pitt to divorce Angelina.

 

My friend got married this week at Turangga. She told it by SMS.

She’s already e-mailed me about it before, too.

I was planning to come, but my Dad didn’t bless me to go.

 

“Why didn’t she invite
you directly? Is she really inviting you or not?” he said.

My
father still believes that a wedding invitation must be posted to each address,
not sent by the phone rate or even e-mails.

 

I defended my friend who didn’t know my address.

According to my father, she could’ve asked me before.

I said, she might haven’t had enough money to buy stamps
and
printing invitations.

My father considered it that I was in the bottom list for
invitation.

I really wanna tell him to shut up, but I was afraid of Heaven.

 

Finally
I asked my fellas why they didn’t post their wedding invitation.

And
they were variety answers:

1. “I know much about how to design an apartment.

But I don’t know how to design an invitation.”

2. “My mother has taken all of the invitations to invite her fellas
whom I never know and she doesn’t leave me any. She really wanna show off her
new son-in-law.”

3. “I don’t know that you’re still in

Bandung

, Vic.

I thought you’d ran abroad with your boyfriend. So I lost your
home address.

By the way, where da hell is your address?”

4. “Well, Mr Postman who works in my district has been an elderly.

I think it’s time for him to get retired.

It’ll be good if I decrease his job by not burdening him with a
pile of wedding invitations.”

 

But we do need to send our wedding invitation, don’t we?

“Absolutely!” said my fellas instead.

“To tell our ex-s so they don’t need to chase us anymore!”

 

The
dark future about the possibility to be shown off to my mother’s fellas whom I
never knew, also the pity to Mr Postman who loads too many mails, make me wish
to be a runaway bride so I don’t need to annoy anybody else.

Married
on our own.. Only me, my baby, and God.

My
mother refuses that idea instead. ”You embarrass
your parents,” she angers.

 

“Mom, being a runaway
bride is healthy,” I said cool.

“Imagine how much fat that we can burn by being a bride who
runaway?”

Sex education often confuses.

Especially when our turn has come to teach the children about it. Have you got any kids? Have you taught them about sex?

Once upon a time in a party family, my dear aunty finally told us to have lunch.

I was playing a chorus in a piano, and I prefer the last queue, with my covered intention of eating up the rest of the roasted duck.

Then my sista came and nudged me, “C’mon, Ky, stop it. Let’s eat!”

The duck has fulfilled her up, and she couldn’t control her too-hard push, and she shook my little body, then I thought my boob crashed the piano.

“Ouch!” I shout. “M’, watch out! Aku masih perawan!”

(Indonesian: I’m still a virgin-Red).

Instead my sista covered the ears of her daughter, Njenk, 7.

“Vicky!” she shouted panicly. Then she whispered, “Turn down your voice!

My daughter could’ve heard you!”

What a wrong action.

Coz, Njenk, who confused coz her mom covered her ears, asked then,

“What did Tante say, Ma?”

“Oh nothing,” said my sista in her false smile.

“Tante Vicky said, she wanna eat bakwan !”

I gaped. What’s wrong? I mustn’t say perawan in front of the kids?

My sista taught her sex education so strictly.

So strict and I think she doesn’t teach a thing.

Ya know, about the boob and the bird, something like that.

But exactly, Njenk has learn about her own sex education.

Once upon a time, she, her sister and her brother brutally demolished my DVD collection. “Tante, let’s watch this!” shouted O’a, 5, showed my The Simpson Movie.

I was eating the chips and wondered.

My sista took the children to the cinema more often than I do, how come hasn’t her son watch this? “Haven’t you watched it?”

“We have,” said Bill, 8. “But can we see it again, please?”

The kids never get bored about the re-runs. “You’ve watched it before?

Let’s see, which scene do you like the most?”

Njenk, already 9 now, answered instead,

“Ooh, I love when Bart played skateboard in naked and showed up his bird!”

I choked up of my chip. “Show his what?!”

“HIS BIRD! ” answered Njenk, Bill, and O’a at once.

So these kids mustn’t know about perawan, but they may know about bird.

Definition about sex education is different for each people.

Me and my sista absolutely have different opinions about it.

Forget it a while. A few months ago, I attended in a symposium about insemination.

The speaker, an obstetrician, was playing a film about insemination process in his clinic.

The film began with a scene when he was sitting at a front of a lady who was opening her groin widely. He was gonna soothe the lady’s groin.

Suddenly from the audience sounded a little kid shouted, “Aaaa..!”

I was astonished. Who was that?

I looked around for the source, but nobody paid attention. Was I hallucinating?

Then, the film changed to a film about how to take the cement sample from a sterile man.

The film figured out how a doctor pulled over his patient’s scrotum and geld it.

Mr Happy looked waving around.

You don’t have to imagine about it!

And suddenly the kid shouted again, “Aaaa..!”

Damn. I really hate being interrupted while I’m watching a bird.

I looked aside. Oh God, a participant has brought her 4-years-old daughter!

So that kid who’d made the weird sounds?

Absolutely her parents had picked up the wrong moments to teach the kid about sex education. What’s the matter? Was the babysitter leaving home?

Then I remember another symposium that I came to.

The speaker showed the slides of ruined vagina and demonstration about how to repair the torn vagina.

When all of the audience was watching the slides respectfully, suddenly there was a voice shouting out, “Daddy, c’mon! You said we’re going swimming today?!”

Everybody looked around, and we got, that among us, there was a 5-year-old boy angry to his Dad, a 40-year-old obstetrician, and this boy didn’t seem enjoy the slide of vagina extended widely at his front.

His father looked embarrassed much and he brought his son out of the hall.

What was the symposium officials supposed to do?

Displaying a large banner on the door, “THE SYMPOSIUM ONLY FOR OVER 17!”?

Even a reproduction expert sometimes doesn’t know the right time to teach his own son about sex.

I don’t know about it, either.

And I thank God that I haven’t had any kids when I haven’t known the answer.

This July 23^rd, let’s celebrate the Kids Day, by not having kids when you’re not ready.

Including not ready to tell your kids that boobs are fun, Mr Happy rocks, and Miss Cheerful is not for you to see if it’s not for appropriate intention.

Miss Universe is hold back. And Indonesia insists to participate (again).

But if we’d like to consider more, if Indonesia won this miss-miss thing, we’re not sure that Indonesia will gratify it.

Honor of winning a beauty pageant is not as great as winning a bronze in Games.

This Miss-Miss thing has been a pro and contra from the start.

If we join, this is a gold opportunity to promote our land to the other nations.

That we’re not just famous as a country which addicted to bomb-breeding, for example.

That we also have beautiful girls to show off.

I think I’ve just sounded like a prostitution middleman.

The problem is, to join the Miss Universe, Miss World, Miss Communication, or Miss whatever, must be able to walk on the camera in bikini. 

This is the thing that upsets our female ministry.

They still hold the old quote that woman must be viewed from her brain, not from her leg or even her belly. Confuses me a little.

Coz what I see in my land, girl is not worthy if her womb hasn’t been proved excellent.

To bear a baby, I mean.

I’m not sure that girl must be viewed from her brain.

It never matters that girls can’t be smart, except if smart means good in bed.

Sometimes we shall ask too, Why must wear bikini to be the Miss Universe? 

This question could answer why Saudi Arabia never join the miss-miss thing.

Coz when an Arabian girl dared once to wear bikini, when she came home to her land, she’d be fucked up thrown rocks and bleed.

That the bikini thing revealed a crown to make her country proud, it’s another problem.

It may also be the answer why my application for being the judge of Miss Universe is always abandoned. Coz I could make the other judges sweat.

Coz I have a dream that the Miss Universe winner is an Arabian.

John Robert Powers complained: “Why would you win the Arabian?

The Puerto Rican chic absolutely more beautiful!”

I answered in cool: “Sir, we’ve been always winning the girls from Puerto Rico, from Venezuela, from Mexico, or any place producing telenovela.  Isn’t it boring enough?

I think we shall win a girl from Middle East now, to make it fair!”

Donald Trump voted: “You’re fired!”

Putri Raemawasti  represents Indonesia for Miss Universe today.

It’s up to her that she’d wear bikini or not.

If the Indonesian government doesn’t approve the budget for her bikini, then it doesn’t matter. Beside, why should bother about bikini?

Nowadays we can find a lot of swimsuits covering the whole arms and legs, plenty sold at Passer Baroe. Tinggal dipilih, dipilih, dipilih..

No, no! I write this not in campaign for suicide.

It’s all begun from a few weeks ago, as a woman rushed into my ER in her husband’s arms by vomiting.

Actually I’m bored enough of the people who rushed into my ER by vomiting coz intoxicated of expired karedok, expired tempe bongkrek, expired milk, or anything else expired, but this one astonished enough coz the vomit smelled like.. petroleum?!

                                    

According to the husband, his wife had just drunk petroleum at home. I wrinkled.

Why do people drink petroleum?

Please pick up one of the answer alternatives below:

1.   Considering the oil price which has madly risen overseas, it results the individual effort of oil hoarding raising wider.

Including to this person, she prefers hoarding the oil stock inside her stomach.

2.  Still talking about the rising of the oil price, the public effort to decrease the consumption is tighter.

This person doesn’t consumpt mineral water anymore, but she replace it by drinking petroleum.

3.  It’s pure an accident. The heart wanna take the bottle of mineral water. But the kitchen light doesn’t work.

So the hand just takes the bottle of petroleum.

Thanks to National Electricity which has turn off the lights on the whole town.

4.  Anger to her husband, at least she attracts his attention by tentament suicide by drinking petroleum.

5.  … (please fill up the blanks yourself)

You may guess that right answer is the fourth.

My cleaning service couldn’t stop grousing as the patient vomited at my ER.

Imagine, the ER which used to smell fragrant of BayFresh became smelled like petroleum.

The husband said the wife had tried suicide for many times, but she always failed.

She’d tried many kinds of modus, such as incising her wrist by cutter, had overdosed medicines, and even fell herself into creek. And it never worked out. Always alive, he meant.

Now the husband were bored of his wife’s hobby, so he brought her to the hospital.

There are a lotta ways that people usually do for suicide.

Too bad that the efforts always fail coz the executors ain’t professional enough or unexperienced enough in suicide. Why fail? And is it true that the failure is the delayed success?

Let’s analyze the failures by the modus.

1.  Repellent. This equipment is often used for suicide by spraying it into the mouth.

Notice it that just spraying ain’t different from spraying the mouth freshener.

It probably makes nausea or dry throat, but it doesn’t kill enough.

And it sucks coz it makes the mouth smells bad for days.

2.  Carbolic acid. Drinking carbolic acid often considered as killable.

The truth is, drinking carbolic acid just irritates the intestines and makes vomiting.

The kidneys may be ruined and makes the drinkers can’t pee for days. But they are still alive.

3.  Hang theirselves. Imitating the way of Middle Age European remains popular until today for suicide.

There’s only one etiology why the effort often fails: The twist which was used to hang is too long.

Oh, and don’t forget, never hang yourself on the cabai tree! And if it fails, the hardest thing to get is just a bruise on the neck. But the executor must be isolated in the psychiatry salle coz of self-eradicating effort.

4. Shooting the own face. The executor sounds dying faster, but the truth isn’t so.

The skull bones breaks immediately, the bleeding is excessive, but the bullet doesn’t break his nose so he still can breathe.

And coz the bullet doesn’t stay in his brain, he doesn’t faint and he still can rebel when his fellas try to help him. Next time he wanna shoot himself again, he must study anatomy first.

Poor the failed suicide executors.

It’s very difficult if we wanna die, but God hasn’t approved us to die.

Instead of immediate dying, but the executors just get disabled.

It seems that there’s no other choice instead of enjoying our life.

But if you try to execute yourself, I hope you have more recent ways.

So if it works out, you can share your tips to anybody else by writing your own blog..