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Observer's Post - by Ragin Cajun

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Observer's Post - September 2006

Premature Ejaculation? No Problem!

September 19th 2006 02:20

"A Serbian man needed emergency surgery after he had sex with a hedgehog on a witchdoctor’s advice. Zoran Nikolovic, 35, from Belgrade, says the witchdoctor told him it would cure his premature ejaculation. But he ended up in an operating theater after the hedgehog’s needles left his penis severely lacerated. A hospital spokesman said: “The animal was apparently unhurt and the patient came off worse from the encounter.” "(mX, 18 September)

Wow, the fine medical services they have in Belgrade. I think the witchdoctor suggested the proper treatment and Mr. Nikolovic did the right thing by respecting his medical opinion. Well, Zoran, now you won’t have any problem with premature ejaculation… because you won’t be having sex any more! Sex with a hedgehog? Serves you right. You deserve a mangled penis. If PETA and the SPCA ever got word of this, they would be on your ass in a second. Poor hedgehog, being violated by a creature a hundred times bigger than her. Can anyone imagine raping an animal you can fit in your hands? I would think that the appropriate orifice would be about the size of a pinhole. What I find funny is the fact that the hedgehog was unhurt in the encounter. I guess that says something about Zoran’s package. If you can’t even please a hedgehog, what hope do you have with women? Premature ejaculation would be the least of your problems. To add insult to injury, the hospital spokesman chose his words unfortunately by saying Zoran “came off” worse. Raping a hedgehog, being able to penetrate a hole the size of a needle’s eye, having your dong used as a pincushion, AND still be a quick-shooter? What a charmed life he leads

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Insults 101

September 15th 2006 06:28

This morning, I was standing in the sidewalk waiting to cross the street, when this car zoomed by me. As it passed by, one of the occupants poked his head out of the window and shouted “F*ckin’ Asian!” I looked around and saw that there was no one around except for me and a German Shepherd tied to a post. Since the dog was European (I assumed it was really German), then the guy must have been referring to me. Huh. At this point, I was just standing there with a bemused grin. On a primal level, I understood what he wanted to convey – I had just been insulted. However, what was fascinating was the slur itself. “F*ckin’ Asian.” If we want to get pedantic, it doesn’t really make much sense. It’s not even a complete sentence. Was he implying that I was having sex with an Asian? Was he implying that HE was having sex with an Asian? If so, good for him. At least one of us was getting some. Or maybe he was implying that I was Asian and that… well, I guess that’s it. If so, that’s pretty lame. That’s not even technically an insult. It’s more of a moronic observation. If you’re going to insult me, at least do it properly. Don’t waste precious air. Here, I’ll even help with some tips on how to do a proper insult.

1.) Rule number 1, and I cannot emphasize this enough: DO NOT STATE THE OBVIOUS. For example, take the previous incident. I think the gist of what the guy was saying was “You’re an Asian.” Yeah, and you’re ugly. What’s new? Let’s move on. That’s like telling Pavarotti he’s fat. Trust me, he already knows that. Say something that will really scar the target because it’s the first time they would have heard it. Something like “I slept with your real mother!” or “You’re so dumb, you wouldn’t know if your child was switched at birth. She was!” Note: the second one works only if you’re a hospital employee

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Mr. Allen Smith: Manager Extraordinaire

September 11th 2006 05:11

Recently, a friend forwarded this message to me in my Friendster account. It reads: "(Subject Heading: From Mr Allen Smith (Manager of Friendster))Message from Mr AlLEN Smith ( Manager of Friendster ): Friendster SYSTEM is getting too crowded!! We need you to forward this to at least 20 people. know this seems like a largenumber, but we NEED to find out who is using their account. if you do not send this to at least 10 Friendster members, we will delete your account. We want to find out which users are actually using their account. IF YOU DO NOT PASS this letter to anyone we will delete your account. Sorry for the inconvinience."

Apparently, people still get suckered by this all the time. It is to those people that I now say this: THIS IS ALL BULLSHIT. Let us now retrace my steps to uncovering this insidious revelation

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Mr. Allen Smith: Manager Extraordinaire

September 11th 2006 05:11

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No Bones About It

September 4th 2006 05:14

A few months ago, I read in a newspaper about Eddie McGuire’s intentions to “bone” Jessica Rowe. As the article unhelpfully did not provide a translation as to what boning someone meant, my first thought was “Holy crap, don’t they have any sexual harassment laws in this country?” My next thought was “Yeah, I’d probably bone her too, if given the chance.” It was only much, much later that I would learn that Eddie was only talking about firing her. Oh. How mundane. Coming from a country where “boning” meant totally another thing, I found it fascinating how a language can cross borders and retains its basic form while, at the same time, evolves to create cultural nuances. Viewed from an outsider’s perspective, it can be quite hilarious. Case in point: a linguistic gaffe of mine involving a sports terminology. I had just arrived in Australia and was watching an Aussie rules footy game on TV with a friend when he asked me if I had already picked a team. I said, “Well, I’m rooting for the Saints”, to which he replied with a barely suppressed snicker. I assumed then that he was laughing at me because I picked a lousy team. Now, I know better. Now, I know that the proper term is “barracking for a team”. Apparently, what I previously said involved me, a whole football team, and a sh*tload of sexual favors. Well, excuse me. When I got off the plane, no one ever told me “G’day, mate. Here in Australia, “rooting” is a copulatory euphemism.” I had to find it out the hard way.

In another instance, I was riding with a friend in his car when I saw a piece of paper on the dashboard. I asked him what it was and he said it was his gas bill. I asked, “You pay for your gas monthly?”, and he said “No, quarterly.”. So I asked, “Do the different gas stations each give you a separate bill or is it all in just one bill?” In hindsight, I thought he looked a bit confused after I said this. He said, “Yeah, I only get one bill because I only use one gas company”, and like a dense idiot, I replied “Wow, you’re a loyal customer. But what if you’re on a road trip and there aren’t any gas stations except for those of other companies?” At this point, we were like Abbott and Costello. (Incidentally, that’s another thing I like about Australia. They’ve got politicians named Abbott and Costello. Insert your own joke about politics here.) So he had to explain to me that the gas he was talking about was the one that heats his home, while I had to explain that the gas I was talking about powers his car. Then he explained that the word they use is “petrol”, while I explained that we only had one meaning of “gas” back home because we didn’t have to heat our dwellings since we lived in a tropical country. Well, actually, there were TWO meanings of “gas” back home, but the other one was more of an anatomical nature

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Beat This!

September 2nd 2006 02:34

A few days ago, I read a news article about the sexual habits of men from all over the world (mX, 08 August 2006). An international survey of 40,000 men was conducted by Men’s Health magazine. You know the kind of survey I’m talking about – the non-scientific, non-peer reviewed, non-journal accredited kind usually done by rags like FHM. So, yeah, the results are pretty reliable and statistically accurate. Anyway, it mentioned there that “Filipinos were world-beaters at masturbation, doing it almost six times a week.” At that point, I just had to stop reading and laugh my ass off. World-beaters at masturbation? That was either some clever wordplay or was written unwittingly by a hassled junior newspaper intern hurrying to meet an editor’s deadline.

As a Filipino, I'm particularly proud of this achievement. Hmmm, so we’re “world-beaters”, are we? *snicker snicker* I have some interesting insights regarding this particular fact. First, it shows that we would do anything to get on the record books. We Filipinos are so hungry to get our country on the map, we would attempt anything that includes a superlative adjective. Heck, we already have the smallest fish, largest crocodile, and tiniest president. Why not throw in the strongest right hand wrists for good measure

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