Budak kampung lembut ni pun tau what’s what…
Moe the Iraqi Leech is back in town. He finally obtained his Canadian citizenship and is now back in Malaysia “looking for a job”. Good luck with that la bai. He contacted me almost as soon as his plane landed! Started going on as if the past 8 years did not happen and that I will just fall back into his arms and start bankrolling him AND HIS ANNOYING FAMILY like I stupidly did before. Apakepundek? I was a lonely, vulnerable divorcée when I met him and felt I needed to buy love to get it. Even though I could have gotten it without doing so… from others. I don’t understand myself sometimes… *facepalm* BODOH!!
I told him like it is… “what did you expect?” I actually toyed with the thought of leading him on like he led me on… just for the schadenfreude of it all… for sweet revenge… but I dunno, since 2010 I am not the biatch I used to be. I might still do it… but I have stopped entertaining his messages and have made it clear in no uncertain terms that things. are. different. now. I have remarried and there is no way I am going to be so “kind” as to bankroll his life anymore.
His Mum is now suffering from kidney failure. My heart goes out to her… and the family.. but enough is enough lah makcik.
Makcik, I remember the time you would use me and suck me dry. We would go for a stroll through a shopping mall and you would hit me up for ribu-raban winter coats, Guerlain cosmetics and the such. When I took off the citrine ring given by my mother to wash dishes at your place, without a thought nor care for my feelings… you took the ring and put it on your finger… wanting to claim it as your own. Coz by that time you had already gotten everything so easily from me that you felt whatever you wanted you surely MUST get.
And then what happened? You couldn’t take the ring off.
Your finger started swelling and you started crying and stamping your feet like a petulant 4-year old in pain. I secretly wanted to laugh at you, watching your son desperately try to get the ring off your finger. If I were royalty sure ada orang dah kata terpalit ‘daulat’. LOLOL
The ring managed to come off and you gave me such a dirty look after that as if it was MY fault you couldn’t fit the ring. Yalah, badan aku aje gemuk… tapi jari-jemari aku kecik la… ikut mak aku. Padan muka kau!
I also remember the time when some friends of your son MoePantat invited him and all of you for a Raya do. All you did at the do was criticise EVERYTHING about the hosts house, the food, their family… you think I didn’t understand what you said? I felt bad for the hosts. They were kind enough to invite you into their humble home and you acted as if you were the Queen of Frikkin Sheba. Hel-lo… your son’s apartment in Pantat Dalam ain’t all that either… so go cermin yourself first.
What about the time I brought you Philistines for a show at the MPO? You made loud disparaging comments throughout the entire show… I wished the ground would just open and swallow me up. Lesson learned… never bring sakais to civilised, artistic performances at the MPO Hall.
I am starting to think there will be a whole slew of #moepantat entries in this blog.
Purging is sooooo liberating!
I was trawling through the FB page for the residential area where I live and read a woman’s ranting post about her curtains that she spent RM 80,000 on, bought from a popular neighbourhood interior design shop.
She went on and on about how shite the curtains were, how bad the installation work was (the entire thingamajig had fallen, railings and all from their wall-brackets) yadda yadda yadda. Said post also came with a snapshot of the fallen curtains ~ simple, cream, plain chintz-y type material.
Her major beef was that she had called the shop ONCE but didn’t receive any reply, that’s why she wants to highlight how bad the after-sales service of the shop was. So many other of my fellow kampung-ites chimed in and said, she should call again. They may have been busy when she called, citing their own experience with the shop being nothing but good. (I have good experience with the shop too, their good/products/service are pricey but they are very professional. The Burmese teak custom-made bed that I am lying on as I type this was made by their master carpenter. When one of the mattress supports broke several years back [don’t ask… *rolls eyes*] they sent the original carpenter who made the bed to come and repair it for me. )
The woman ranter/poster then replied, “I am not going to call again and again. As far as I am concerned, once is enough.”
Wah… arrogant nya kau.
Makes me wonder if her motive was just to herald to the world that she has curtains worth RM80k in her house. I know people who have RM110k worth of curtains in their home, tak ada pulak nak gebang.
At any rate, apa punya bangang lah nak install curtains that expensive in one’s home when one can get absolutely similar ones for a minor fraction of the cost from places like Nilai or Tangkak? Susahlah sikit to drive all the way to these jin berdisco places but why not if one can save tens of thousands of ringgit? Lecehlah jugak when things need to be resewn/repaired but.. hel-lo… TENS of thousands of ringgit saved compared to the minor inconvenience of driving out of the city?
Belen nouveau-riche kot. T___T
The munafiq will go to deepest Hell.
Why do you choose to be one of them?
You show a different face to the world, act as if you’re the best amongst the best, that you could possibly do no wrong… yet behind the facade, away from the sight of those whose validation you seek, you are a totally different person.
One whom cannot even be “gently corrected”… tak boleh ditegur… taking umbrage at the slightest comment, even though you fully know that you are wrong.
You call others “arrogant” but don’t you ever stand in front of a mirror and see that same “flaw” in yourself? Or is it you don’t want to see… that is why you begrudge those who hold the mirror up to you?
When I was still a janda (tak berapa nak terkesan), I struck up a friendship with this chap online. I can’t remember exactly where we met online, prolly some ruangan mencari jodoh for fat chicks or summat coz our boy Nando Torres here likes his wimmin on the thick and chunky side.
We lost touch when I remarried… but he emailed me again earlier this year saying that he may be moving out to Southeast Asia to be with his Pinay love and was coming to KL in December. Apa-apalah laboo… I am not about to go and meet you anyhoos. (He and I have a … “history”… one I am not about to go into here. A very dear friend here knows wot transpired.. *nervous laugh*)
He wrote me a couple more times after that, messages which I ignored for the most part… except for the occasional courteous, “hope you are doing great too” in response to his good wishes for me.
Just recently pokcik started moyan because his Pinay girlfriend has turned out to be a liar. She told him he was an engineer but from what he told me about her, I am more inclined to think that she’s either a maid or a nurse. He told me he went celibate in NYC for the past year and a half, in loyalty to her. Muy pendejo, verdad? The Pinay may have been kangkang-ing all over Cagayan De Oro and Cebu City for all he knows.
The upshot of it all, she had promised to send him money… and of course she hasn’t up to now. Next thing I know he is reminiscing about our “closeness” and trying to hit me up for a couple of Ben Franklins.
Hel-lo? He may be a pendejo but I am not.
Harap muka hensem badan sado jah but wot a bleedy loo-hoo-ser.
I started going to Arabic classes nearly 2 months ago now. Initially it was just to support a friend who had started an ‘academy’ of sorts in the area where I live, teaching Quranic tajweed and Arabic.
My interest was piqued in the language after the first month, so I decided to sign up for the Intensive Arabic Programme offered by the Islamic Online University (IOU). I could have joined the Madinah Uni Arabic course but having to drive all the way to Section 9 in Shah Alam for classes, I didn’t see how I could be consistent with that. The IOU allows me a certain level of freedom as to when I can attend classes and finish the modules so it works for me perfectly.
Anyhoos.. akak moyan ni coz of the ustadz who teaches at the Academy. This Ustadz was brought in by my friend to teach tajweed and Arabic. He’s not local and he struggles with his English. When I first signed up, I was wondering how in heck was I going to learn Arabic when the ustadz can barely convey what he needs to convey to us because his English is so poor? But I soldiered on because I was thoroughly enjoying learning a new language… and was doing my own research/study outside of class anyway.
Lately I noticed the ustadz seems to make it his personal goal to put me down in class. Whenever I answer correctly, which is 95% of the time (I work hard and put in effort), he would just totally ignore me or never bother to reward me with an “احسنت” that my fellow classmates would get when they get something right. OKlah.. aku bukan hadap sangat dengan your puji-pujian… but when you start to say stuff that put me down and humiliate me in class then that’s bleddy not on.
He started class off today by asking everyone whether we can read Arabic. All of us read the Qur’an so I guess we can say that we “can” read Arabic, albeit with diacritical marks to help us pronounce the words correctly. Reading Arabic text, is quite a different kettle of fish as there are no diacritical marks (baris atas, bawah, depan as the Malays would say.. fatha, kasrah and dhamma in Arabic) to help one along. When he came to my table, he asked me whether I could read the text on the new handout he had just passed to us seconds before. I didn’t say, “YES! I can read..” I just hesitantly said I will try and proceeded to read the first few sentences of Arabic text on the handout. He cut me off very abruptly with an “OK” and strode to the front of the class.
He started to pokpek pokpek… then said, the sister *points to me at the back* just now said she could read but she read it wrong.
He then proceeded to read out the paragraph correctly, which was exactly like how I read it except for one connecting vowel (harakah) which was governed by a grammatical rule that we hadn’t yet been taught. Apakepoonders kau nak kena kata “the sister said she could read” and then proceed to highlight my mistake, one which would have easily been committed by everyone else in the class if they had been asked coz none of us had been taught that particular grammatical rule YET?
Macam kau nak kata sebenarnya aku tak pandai baca la kan? Padahal dalam kelas kau terpaksa tanya aku jugak in the end when the others are just busy with their ‘errr… errrmmmm’ upon being asked any question.
Each time I answer a question right, he will ask me a FURTHER more DIFFICULT question… It’s as if he wants to catch me out, set me up for a fall. This is why now at 2:20am I am up reading, building my vocabulary coz I want to give him proverbial slaps in the face each time he tries to set me up for a fall in class by answering each question he asks me correctly. Padahal orang lain get asked kanak2 Ribena tadika level questions. I get asked convoluted grammatical questions, even the NAMES of each grammatical rule.. segala Ta u ta’nith ussakinah la.. ya u mutakallim lah, ta mutaharrikah lah, nun an niswah and segala bagai toknenek Arabic grammatical terms lagi.
The others will get simple “ما هذا؟” questions that only require, “هذ١ قلم” kinda answers. Apakepundek? Kucing aku pun boleh jawab.
I suspect pundek berjanggut perut boroi ni has been told stuff about me by The Sanctimonious Prick Ex. I am sure none that was told to him was anything good.. knowing him. I know he knows him. Kaymark tak kaymark?
Anyhoos, I have been planning to quit classes at the Academy once my IOU classes get underway. This Friday’s class will be my last at the frikkin’ Academy. My friend was kind enough to set up the Academy for this bleddy ustadz so he can earn some income whilst here in ماليذيا but dasar tak sedar diri. A whole family of students (mak pak and 2 daughters) already quit earlier this month… coz no one understands wot he’s on about (more than) half the time.
Nota kaki: Moyan in Malay is sooooo much more satisfying!