Sexy Russian social escort springs surprise on my pal, Hussein

(Pix of model for illustration purpose only)

“Gong Xi Fa Cai,” Wati greets Chow Kah, shaking her hands clamped into a fist vigorously. Chow Kah’s frequent companion, Jessica, the hottest gal in Hot Legs Nightclub is away in Taiwan on a vacation. So, he has booked Mimi, a shy, new-comer on the nightclub scene.

Chow Kah gives Wati and Mimi an ang pow each. Hot Legs Nightclub & Karaoke has been closed for four days for the CNY. Earlier, Mamasan Lulu had consulted a geomancer who said it’s only auspicious to open on the fifth day.

Wati is dressed in a stunning red cheongsam, with side slits revealing her sexy thighs. Seated beside her, Hussein peels a mandarin orange and throws a slice into his mouth. He pops another piece into Wati’s waiting mouth, her scarlet lips, matching the colour of her dress, spread open like an “O”.

“How was KL during Chinese New Year?” I ask Hussein. “I heard you didn’t balik kampung.”

“As usual, it was quiet. With no traffic, I went looking for awek in Cheras and Kepong. Quality of stocks was poor so I ended up with a Russian social escort. With half the city’s residents gone, business was slow for them. So I managed to get a discount. Only six hundred instead of the usual eight hundred.”

Chow Kah grins. “You lucky man. I should’ve stayed in KL. But, my parents’ll hammer me properly for not going back.” Mimi cracks some Shandung groudnuts, feeds him.

Hussein shakes his head. “It was a date gone sour.”

“Oh? How? Bad service from her?” I ask.

“No, she was friendly except for one thing. When I was in the lobby, she came down smiling and escorted me to her room. She called herself Arina. Blonde, just like a centre-fold model. Face, good-looking. But, in the room she dimmed the lights. I didn’t like it, but she insisted. She says she’s new to the business and is shy.

“My mental alarm bell rang. Could she be a transsexual? Sex-change transsexuals pretending to be women always try not to allow their clients to view their artificial womanhood. She didn’t join me in the shower, which increased my suspicion.

”She didn’t want me to see her body. For what reason? I wondered. Anyway, while making love, I tried to fondle her breasts, but she pushed my hand away. She hugged me to divert my attention from her breasts. They looked solid and juicy. But, in a fit of passion, I swiftly moved my head down, and began sucking her nipple.

“I was shocked when her breast slipped down her belly. It was a prosthetic breast. My tongue was licking an ugly surgical wound – a dark and long scar across her former left breast! I almost puke. I rushed to the washroom and gargled with Listerine. ‘You have only one breast?!’ I shrieked to her when I came out. She was torn between guilt and embarrassment.

“ 'Yes, I lost one breast to cancer. I’m sorry,' she said. She retrieved the rubber thing and tried re-sticking it to her chest using adhesive strips. 'You – you still want to continue?'

“She was almost in tears. Crocodile tears or real, I don’t know. I shook my head. For some reason, I was consumed with guilt.” Hussein’s face radiates with compassion as he speaks. “I paid her and left. I didn’t feel good for another reason -- six hundred went down the drain.”

Pity for Arina hangs in the cool air of the VIP Room of Hot Legs Nightclub & Karaoke. Everyone is silent for several moments.

“She shouldn’t be doing this work if she has artificial breast,” Chow Kah says.

“Let’s not judge her,” Wati comments. “Just consider her as a breast cancer victim with no marketable skills and no proper education trying to make fast money.”

/end

Ladyboys serve as stewardesses in Thailand’s P.C. Air

Pondans or transsexuals or ladyboys – either you love them or hate them. Though they are sometimes ridiculed, Bangkok-based airlines P.C. Airline Ltd has recruited six ladyboys as its stewardesses. Among the recruits is Miss Tiffany 2007, Miss Thanyarat Jiraphatpakom (pix above), who measures 38-24-38. Peter Chan, CEO of P.C. Air Ltd, says he believes in equal employment opportunities. Transsexual stewardesses wear distinctive name tags so that immigration authorities can identify their gender. My kudo goes to Peter Chan for not discriminating against kateoys. Nay, I’m no transsexual lover.

/end

Wati of Hot Legs Nightclub advises all readers to drive home carefully for the reunion dinner

"Hi, Guys! It's me, Wati, GRO No. 128 of Hot Legs Nightclub & Karaoke. In the spirit of 1Malaysia, I wish all readers of The Wordslinger a "Happy Chinese New Year". Please drive home safely for your reunion dinner. Don't be a mangled corpse. Wet kisses!"

/end

Gong Xi Fa Cai from Jessica of Hot Legs Nightclub!

"To all readers of The Wordslinger, Gong Xi Fa Cai and may Happiness, Prosperity and Longevity be yours in the Year of the Dragon! Yum Seng!" -- Jessica (No. 88 of Hot Legs Nightclub & Karaoke}.

Sulaiman Esa should stick to painting and not spread anti-American propaganda

(Pix courtesy of budakad82.blogspot.com]

I enter the National Art Gallery and walk up its circular ramp. An exhibition is being held. At the entrance to one gallery, I see an artist’s name: Sulaiman Esa. I don’t know who he is and have never heard of him. I have heard of Latiff Mohidin and Ibrahim Hussein, though. Scattered on the walls are numerous paintings. What’s this? In another gallery, running video footage on a rectangular screen shows the harshest-possible interrogation committed by US armed personnel at Guantanamo Bay detention camp. A plaque condemns "US hypocrisy" for transgressing human rights against Muslim prisoners in the camp.

Why is Sulaiman Esa abusing the exhibition as a platfrom to condemn America? He is an artist, not an international politician. He has chosen to wear blinders [aka blinkers -- those worn by race horses] so as not to see that the majority of the prisoners were terrorists, their conspirators and hatchet-men. Cold-blooded, ruthless killers who have played a role in blasting fellow Muslims to bits and pieces don’t deserve supposed human rights. Below is the list of innocent Muslims who died in the September 11, 2001 attacks.

Muslim Victims of 9/11
=======================

* Shabbir Ahmed - 47 years old - Windows on the World Restaurant
* Tariq Amanullah - 40 years old - Fiduciary Trust Co.
* Michael Baksh - 36 years old - Marsh & McLennan
* Touri Hamzavi Bolourchi - 69 years old - retired nurse on United #175
* Abul K. Chowdhury - 30 years old - Cantor Fitzgerald
* Mohammad Salahuddin Chowdhury - 38 years old - Windows on the World
* Jemal Legesse De Santis - 28 years old - World Trade Center
* Simon Suleman Ali Kassamali Dhanani - 63 years old - Aon Corp.
* Syed Abdul Fatha - 54 years old - Pitney Bowes
* Mon Gjonbalaj - 65 years old - Janitor, World Trade Center
* Nezam A. Hafiz - 32 years old - Marsh & McLennan
* Mohammed Salman Hamdani - 23 years old - NYPD Cadet
* Zuhtu Ibis - 25 years old - Cantor Fitzgerald
* Muhammadou Jawara - 30 years old - MAS Security
* Sarah Khan - 32 years old - Forte Food Service
* Taimour Firaz Khan - 29 years old - Carr Futures
* Abdoulaye Kone - 37 years old - Windows on the World
* Abdu Ali Malahi - 37 years old - WTC Marriott
* Nurul Hoque Miah - 35 years old - Marsh & McLennan
* Boyie Mohammed - 50 years old - Carr Futures
* Ehtesham U. Raja - 28 years old - TCG Software
* Ameenia Rasool - 33 years old - Marsh & McLennan
* Mohammad Ali Sadeque - 62 years old - newspaper vendor at WTC, reported missing
* Rahma Salie & child - 28 years old (7 months pregnant) - American #11
* Khalid M. Shahid - 25 years old - Cantor Fitzgerald
* Mohammed Shajahan - 41 years old - Marsh & McLennan
* Nasima Hameed Simjee - 38 years old - Fiduciary Trust Co.
* Michael Theodoridis - 32 years old - American #11
* Abdoul Karim Traore - 41 years old - Windows on the World
* Karamo Trerra - 40 years old - ASAP NetSource
* Shakila Yasmin - 26 years old - Marsh & McLennan


[source: http://islam.about.com/od/terrorism/a/Muslim-Victims-Of-9-11-Attack.htm]

I have read “The Holy Koran: Text & Translation” by Abdullah Yusuf Ali (Publisher: Islamic Book Trust, Kuala Lumpur]. Nowhere in the holy book can I find any teaching that says it is jihad to kill innocent men, women and children, whether Muslims or non-Muslims, in the name of terrorism.

Sulaiman Esa, please stick to your paintings instead of spreading anti-US propaganda during your exhibition.

/end

Jessica of Hot Legs Nightclub regales patrons with erotic massage story

[Pix of model for illustration purpose only]

“How’s your holiday?” I ask Jessica. The VIP Room of Hot Legs Nightclub & Karaoke is already decorated with tiny lanterns and auspicious Chinese sayings.

“Great! I went with my Ahkong [grandpa], sister and parents to Bali,” she says.

“Oh, I’ve been there before. Yes, fantastic for surfing, cultural performances, handicrafts and paintings.”

She dips her hand into a bag and takes our four miniature blue surf boards brightly painted and four wooden key chains intricately carved. "Take one of each,” she says.”

Chow Kah brings the souvenirs to his lips and smacks them. “Thanks, Jess, precious gifts to remember. Must keep them under my pillow.”

“How’s the nightlife there?” asks Hussein. He places the tokens in his shirt pocket.

Wati observes the blue surf board. It leans against a miniature dolphin in an upright position. Makes a great display on the living room cupboard. “Should be expensive. Kuta’s a tourist destination.”

“Yup, if you want to book a kupu-kupu malam [butterfly of the night], it will cost you one million rupiah onwards.”

“Our money how much?” asks Wati.

“Around three hundred and fifty,” Hussein says.

“That’s cheap,” I say.

“But that’s the rock bottom price for makcik with looks that kill your libido. For spring chicken, it’s one-and-a-half million rupiahs at least. They hang around the bars in Kuta. Cheaper meat are on sale at Sanur.”

“How you know? My 70-year old Ahkong’s [grandpa} still young at heart. Two weeks before the trip, he bought back a bottle of China snake wine. He kept it in his room. Every night before sleeping he'd take a shot.

“One evening, in Bali, my Ahkong [grandpa] sneaked out. I bumped into him in the lobby as I was going to the hotel’s swimming pool. Just going to a spa in Sanur, he says. Next morning during breakfast, I ask, how's the spa?

“Ho liao! My Ahkong enthused.” He gave a thumb-up. The supir [driver] took him to the Arum Village Day Spa. Actually, he asked to be taken to a spa luar istimewa, the hum sup old man confesses. Can't blame him. My grandma died 15 years ago. He's got no one to play with."

Jessica brings out a pile of colour pixs, handing them to Wati. “Here're some photos taken in Bali."

Hussein leans toward Wati to look at Jessica's holiday photos. "Your grandpa went for aromatherapy massage?"

"You know, Thailand’s famous for soapy-water body massage. In Malaysia, our girls use baby oil. Bali's hottest sleazy service is now beer massage. The buleh [Westerners] loooove it!”

Chow Kah raises a pitcher of Asahi beer. “Same as body-to-body massage but they use beer, rite?”

“Sort of. The masseuse enters the room with a basket containing two cans of cold Bintang beer, towels and a spray, my Ahkong says. She shakes one tin vigorously. Then she pops it open. Whoooooosh! The froth starts shooting out! She aims at his body, the froth ejaculating like semen. Ahkong claims that instantly, afternoon heatiness accumulated from daytime sightseeing drains away. Then, she sprays lotion over the beer layer. She springs into action. Massages his arms and chest. Her killer technique is gliding up and down his inner thighs with gentle pinching of the genitalia area.

“After fifteen minutes, the poor old man buay tahan liao. She asks him, Bapak mahu love massage? He understands. Mahu! Mahu! The old bugger shrieks excitedly. His libido turbo-charged with snake-wine already -- cannot resist. The girl strips and takes a quick shower. Lays down spread eagle. She is all his to play with! Her brown breasts are as round as char siew pow, my grandpa's eyes looking dreamy in sweet memory as he relates his sexperience. The Balinese girl is only 18 years old. Her wild orchid tight as a bachang [rice dumpling] my grandpa discovers later."

“She jigs another can of Bintang beer with force, as if masturbating it. Buka dan tembak atas badan saya, she plays teacher. Bapak boleh jilat beer dari susu dan badan saya [you can lick the beer from my breasts and body] Wah, my Ahkong chiak bay leow loh! [eat cannot finish lah.] He's a hard-core drinker.” Jessica giggles. “Must have played doggie for a while with his partner. The rest of the story, you should know.”

Excitement seizes Hussein. “Address of this spa?”

“Jalan Danau Poso, Sanur. All taxi drivers should know it.”

“Wow...I must go to Bali for my Chinese New Year vacation,” Chow Kah announces. “Hey, Jess, do a favour, please. Ask your grandpa to buy a bottle of snake wine for me."

Hussein's eyebrows shoot upward. "Got any halal snake products for manhood, ah?"

/end

Jessica of Hot Legs Nightclub wishes everyone a Merry X'mas and a Happy New Year

Jessica, the "fiery red number" in Hot Legs Nightclub & Karaoke says: "I wish readers of The Wordslinger blog a Merry Xmas and a Happy New Year. My 2012 resolution is to share my jokes and intimate knowledge of sensuality with you all as much as possible." -- This was the message and digital pix I received in my email this morning.

/end