Fucking Flu Bug Penetration...

Looking quite good there... *calls asylum*

Screw all the fucked up, "hey, that idiot's sneezing like some decathlon-thrusted porn bitch's cunt" medical PhD's (Philippine Dicktards) out there who will probably spew out semi-liquefied, "100 years old till solid-encrusted grandma halitosis" saliva saying that I have H1N1 bullshit (which is fucking over sensationalized by Anderson Cooper's 500 sulfuric farts per minute nonsense... or maybe even by some Failippine schools out there who'd just throw the media "oooh, we have some hillbilly on weed crack having H1N1" boner out there just to have 10 days off from work coz' they're lazy bums in need of homo-S&M recreational shitfest). No, I DO NOT have that fucking swine-manure flu that everyone thinks is the next Britney Spears reincarnation (well, can't blame them... Britney's as much fecal material as this fucking flu...), but I will admit that I am sick right now, having a faucet-leak of a runny nose with Gargoyle-green mucous lustily sweeping down my once immaculate, now deflowered snout (ok, wrong analogy, but you get my fucking point... right?) and a throat-scratching hoarse voice that sounds like someone is doing Initial D drifts at the base of my profane Zippo lighter fluidized oral cavities (I just hope that it ain't JR Smith driving the fucking car: see ESPN news). I'm glad to say however that I'm near recovery again (if you've got balls as large and "ready to blow" as mine, fucking flu ain't got no chance, but of course most of you are probably societal clones of Paris Hilton... so ummmm... better get new testes), and once I'm back at full strength, expect a longer post... or two...

Yui and Azusa's REAL After-School Tea Time... yummy...

On to more pressing matters... I've been rewinding Cagayake GIRLS! and Don't Say LAZY on my iPhone like a XXX-zillion times already (Fuwa Fuwa Time as well, but more on that later...) and I'm eagerly waiting for the next K-ON! songs to be released (fuck it, 13 episodes!? Kyo Ani, you sick pussy retards...). Thankfully, July 22 will see the release of After-School Tea Time, which will be a mini-album (it's the Franken-child of the fucking idiotic single and the equally useless, Western conceptualized album) that also contains apparently, the Stapler song (*jumps like that gay-ass guy in striped shirts on that children's show with canine bestiality undertones...*). As if my sausage ain't fried and tenderized enough (rescusitation to pre-masticated levels is futile...), September 2 will be the glorious release of another K-ON! album featuring the Let's Go song (which, if I remember correctly was also included in Yui's character song single, albeit in a less than glorious, "you fucking ripped off my money" snooze fest that resembled the bland idiocy that is the Duke Blue Crazies) and the 5 member version of Cagayake GIRLS! (about time, bitches!!!). You see now why Japan is such a place for trollage and "suck my wallet dry like Maria Ozawa sucks dicks dry"-fest? They keep releasing new versions of their stuff (optic scans Bandai's Gunpla line... hey, wasn't 00 Raiser released just a month ago? And why is it fucking pink? Ballerina lessons?) every fucking 6 months or so that you'll really be forced to buy the new version to have the latest in bling (well, the whole commercail system's like that anyway, so fuck it... when was the last time you saw Wacko Jacko's "Thriller" got released again in some sort of Memorial Ultimate, Better-Than-Last-Time, Worth-Your-Poor-Money Version?) Oh well, such are the mysteries of life (and no, don't even get started on the God-speak lest I flame your noobish ass like those Afghan idiots getting fucked by Obama's minions in some sand dune out there...), but needless to say, I'll still be listening to the new songs like a grade school kid happily listening to subversive nursery rhymes (looking back at them now, they did sound kinky... must've been why I've been watching boobs and pantsu since grade school... good job, school! social formation it is...) while going faux emo on the present lack of Yui, Mio, Ritsu, Mugi and Azusa in my life... Now if you'll excuse me, I'm meeting the Dalai Lama for an exercise in sexual visualization (oh great Sora Aoi, please teach me the philosophy of pleasure!!!)...

Omg... *nosebleed*

Btw, just posted this here in skool aka Hell...


Random Thoughts for teh Day...

- Why does white bread go so well with scrambled eggs? No seriously...

- Hmmm... should I go for a loli or a busty?

- If I can sell my fucking Godzilla figure, then I'd call myself a genius... if not, I'm still a fucking genius... either way, you're still my bitch...

- Oh shit, 10 mins till class!!! Well, fuck that... no wait, I have a quiz!? Bullshit.

- Just when I bring a jacket, the rain stops... !@#*&^!!!@ss?!!@#$


Gotta go, bitch pigs!!!

The Weekly, "I Was Due," Compulsory Update of Penile Madness

I'm guessing C.C. and Kallen just made your pants a lot tighter and hotter... oh crap, stickier as well...

So here I am, languishing in anal pleasure after a nice F-bomb of Kelloggs' cereal-induced manure (tip to lose weight: eat healthy, seemingly grandma-saliva tasting shit in the morning and then gulf down grease-goodness, processed pseudo-gourmet, sweet-as-cunt food after) on a needless to say, boring Sunday morning updating my recently neo-widgetized (copyrighted word for me, bitches) blog with another post of deviating topics and whatever pussy-shit my sex-pumping cranial muscles come up with... Yes, school sucked (well, it's always a constant anyway, but we'll get to that... hopefully not... later)

No, I refuse to cooperate with the vaginal failure known as Wordpress.com...

Wordpress is overrated, fucked-up piece of "no, you can't cum on the chick's cunt" shit that makes you wonder why it even exists in the bloggosphere...

Truthfully speaking, and you know I tell the truth and nothing but the damn fucking truth (well, maybe except when I say "I love school" coz' I obviously, if you're smart enough to realize it, don't) the hype about Wordpress' funtionality and overall orgasm-inducing, pre-ejaculatory geek pleasurability is overrated (much like how Transformers and any other Michael Bay failure is... oh fuck, didn't I just enjoy Bad Boys 2?). Seriously, I learned (even though I don't need to, but am forced to by Wordpress' anus-contracting shittiness) this the hard way for 3 fucking hours, leading me to delay finishing Natsu no Arashi (good show btw, despite SHAFT's refusal to put in a sufficient budget for Chinese slaves), last night. I wanted to move this blog to Wordpress since I've had a seemingly pleasant experience with it in updating Panther's blog, but NNOOOOO!!! Wordpress.com wanted to screw me harder than Vince McMahon jackhammering some unexpecting WWE diva in need of 60 year old sausage bone. Why does Wordpress suck so much? Let's run it down shall we...

a) 3 GB of total space for porn images, scandal (no, not the fuckable J-pop singers, but close...) videos featuring known celebrities and ear-drum rupturing music, with limited support for file types... yeah, good job Wordpress... my testicles are beating like angry drums wanting to ball-slap the hell out of your idiotic noggins.

b) Fucktastically noobish themes... Hey, Blogger themes suck as well, but Wordpress takes it to another level. Imagine George Bush humping his fugly, sperm-drinking dog and then following it up by ripping up the butt-linings of 50 Failippine grandmas in 5 minutes with his petroleum-powered bio-rocket of semen-istic origins.

c) NO FUCKING WIDGETS!!! and NO FUCKING AD SUPPORT!!! Are they "Manny Pacquiao for US President" demented!? or are they even Homo Erectus-level sane!? Those Wordpress limp-dicks just took out the fun out of making blogs, making their templates the least satisfying, bland-as-my-grandma's shit-scraped Sunday veggies, ones on the face of God-knows (no, I am not a religious fanatic like those niggers on my sidewalk) the only planet in the worthwhile universe (worthwhile only because of me and hot Japanese chicks).

BOOOOOBS!!!

New widgets for the only blog for balls-to-the-wall, anything goes, penile excrement spewing blog...

On the subject of widgets... If anyone of you were smart enough to fucking notice (I sure hope so coz' I don't tend to stupids, idiots, morons, infantile dicks and the like), I've added several new widgets to this site (thank God for HTML support in Blogger... suck my damn cock, Wordpiss), most of which relate to interwebs techno pop-princess, Miku Hatsune. Well why her? It's because I just love the modern, mind-orgasmic, jovial feel that Miku brings and she's more moe than any other "I love Miley Cyrus' squealing, "she's fucking Chip and Dale" voice" 3D female noob out there. Besides, the black and green hues (artistic bullshit from yours truly) of Miku are complementary to the colors of my one and only waifu (though I am prone to polygamous relationships... hehehe) C.C. as well so you could say they're more homies than Jay Leno and Ellen Degeneres will ever be (besides, boot-chin and lesbos don't mix). But no, unfortunately, Miku and C.C. yuri doujins (it's almost like faux incest, only better) won't be appearing on my female-organ squirting promotional blog for the moment... unless of course the Great Internet Gods happen to release any... XD

The real Santa Claus and Jeebus' candy bar...

iPhone OS 3.0...

It's no secret that I own an iDrug... I mean Jeebus phone... oh, iPhone. I'd have to admit that I was a Failippine "I hate Obama's black nigger, shit-encrusted ass, but in reality, it smells like ripened ambrosia" hypocrite for buying one. Yes, I now admit my mistake of trashifying the "OMG!!! WTF!!! LOLWUT!!! @_@" gadget of probably the last 50 years (ok, that was a stretch, but still not as outrageous as saying that the Philippines is the best country in the world, unlike some Anonymous dickless douche bag who commented on one of my previous posts on Failippina abroad making herself into dumb shit laughing stock...), and has apparently taken over my deific royal existence of which the world would not be able to fucking live without with, and shall bring forth Apocalypse once it ceases to exist (yeah, THAT'S HOW FUCKING IMPORTANT I AM, BITCH PIGS!!!). How? Well, if I'm sick of listening to social commentary of "Hey, you know my niece has a boyfriend already..." or "My sis just got laid by her uncle..." the kind, then I can just plug my ears with the soothing sounds of "SATSUGAI!!!" and pretend that the idiot around me got massacred inside a gas chamber filled with Hitler sado-masochistic pron images (yeah, nice way to die eh?). Another instance of iPhone messianic salvation (oohh, Holy Spirit... *sarcasm*) is being inside a "pin drop annoyance" room with some Stupid spitting his acidic saliva all over the cheap Malaysian marble (apparently Malaysians are now the 2nd joke barfs after of course, the country of 4 foot dwarf rulers...). All I need to do is wrangle free my JobsPhone from my skinny ass, tight-fit, Euro jeans (to hell with elephant, broom jeans from Dickies... hehe... DICK-ies) and voila... I browse through thousands of synced hentai and ecchi photos to make my crotch inflame like Satan incinerating Marlboro cigars like burnt human epidermis with sanguine fluid spewing capillaries. And this past week, iPhone OS 3.0 has just been released. Lots of fucking new features, which admittedly should have been included in the first place, but Steve Jobs needed to ram his liver-sick, 17-inch bratwurst into Bill Gates first before spewing out all the iPhone feature cum. Some features of 3.0 are... (note, 3.0 not as in iPhone 3G S, but the damn Mac OSX OS for the iPhone... bet you didn't know that, cunt-whore)

a) Landscape mode for everything typable... It's basically a walking keyboard phallus!!! Well at least compared to the physical creakboard shits from T-Mobile and Palm and oh yeah... Nokia (overrated Finns who suck narwhal titties).

b) Search function... For the lazy bum like me, it's like God sending a gazillion JAV idols who serve my every boner whim and desire... not to mention the 6,459,320 sexual positions I have in mind, which mind you, includes lathering chocolate over oppai and going predatory gagas over them... oh yeah!!!

c) Copy and Paste... The ultimate expression of Apple trollage, but I still love 'em. Sending novels of e-mails will never be the fucking same again... (well, except for the risque images, the "umph and oomph" sounds and the "Oh yes! MORE, MORE!!!" Maria Ozawa videos) Hell, of course I have tons of those. Any sane male (I'm assuming most of you are normal heterosexual geniuses... fine, not geniuses, but of capable, non-esoteric natures) would have terabytes of bedroom tutorial videos (excuse me, not only bedroom... hehe... includes tables, kitchens, bathtubs and even concrete floors).

d) Voice Memos... Not sure what this does, but it feels like having a nano-megaphone on hand to publicly humiliate some unsuspecting Jeebus-imitating fatboy with jiggling 500 lb of semi-liquified blubber fat who can't even jerk of because of his .00000000000001 mm Hungarian tube.

e) Etc... Can't remember the fucking others. No I'm not going senile. You should reserve that for John McCain's "I love Sarah Palin's ass" campaign idiocy, of which he has already probably forgotten. Yeah John, you're the first living proof (not trilobytes, not algae, not plankton) that white boys DO and CAN lose in politics. Good job. Your Arizona folks are probably sharpening their meat cleavers waiting for your tiny, wriggling squirt of a schublig.

Home is where the figures and sanity are...

On being an Ecchi Sempai in OtaKai...

What is OtaKai? It's my cyber-haven for the weary mind, an escape from the devious clutches of 3D reality... In short, my second home (contrary to the nutjobs at school who say that school is one's second home... fucking mongrel screwing dolts). What's an Ecchi Sempai? It's like being the big bully in a schoolyard (no, not really, but I couldn't think of another Einstein-level intelligible analogy...) who gets extra perks from the even bigger bullies in the schoolyard. In other words, a level higher than the regular member, mate, pawn, citizens and any other term for non-exclusive, unspecial guy out there. This promotion in level was actually a surprise to me last night since I immediately got "perks" (not as in monetary, "give me! give me!," dog tongue drooling perks, but close) that I previously have not had, and upon seeing my status changed to that of Ecchi Sempai, my face glowed brighter than a cheap Christmas LED light in teetering danger of smoldering some 9 year-old brat's Tender Juicy Hotdog (smokey...). So why the change? I don't really know... really I have no idea, despite being granted universal, celestial powers of Omniscient Knowledge (take that useless shit, dog-piss worthy Philosophy... dare give me a failed mark on my 1st quiz eh!?). Maybe it's because I've been posting figure-relevant stuff so much (6 point something posts per day... probably more if I were immediately active since I joined last year) or maybe because I've never logged-out of OtaKai ever (well except to get some shut-eye, duh! noobish idiot...), but whatever the reason is, I'm grateful (and it's not always I'm grateful since most free gifts are either A) "Forced by some nagging, ugly as Paula Abdul's plastic boobs mother" or B) Some cheap buy-out to keep your mouth shut, but OtaKai ain't like that, so it's genuine... fuck you, non-OtaKai member who doesn't believe me, the Overlord of All-Encompasing Greatness and Divine Superiority) for the promotion, since I've always considered OtaKai my second home (obviously my own house is first... what'd you think? the classroom!!!? fuck you) and a place where I feel I'm always welcome (not like school, where social institution and I have a mutual hate, disdain and downright "KISS MY ASS" detest for one another).

Beautiful, stunning and if you don't think so... FUCK YOU!!! C.C. and loli works well... :D

The Much Awaited, "Oh my god, my girlfriend's cunt is about to explode!" Mind Numbing Random Thoughts...

- No, after one week, school is still the Universal Bitchfest denigrating my imperial existence...

- Seeing kids having cheap, factory-reject catsup as their mid-day snack makes me want to laugh at the absurd poordom that is the Failippines... Seems like we're left with the hamburger condiment residues...

- The fat guy references I had during my entire post was inspired by a REAL fat guy, again spotted at Greenhills... Good lord, he must've had a 60 inch waist line... Enough to obscure his dick like Fat Bastard in the Austin Powers films or that Kazakh pig with Pamela Anderson-magazine masturbatory tendencies in Borat...

- I saw a fucking bargain earlier, but didn't get it... but I might end up splitting open my guts and squeezing bile all over my nigger and Indian whore slaves later for it...

- Megan Fox is fugly, bitches!!! She's not even human... just silicone plastic bewbs on two legs...


AND MY GIFT TO ALL OF YOU....

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HAVE A NICE DAY, BITCHES!!!

After A Fucking Month of Inactivity...

I'm back, bitches!!!

Oh my jiggling ball-nanzas! It's been a fucking month already since I've induced literary orgasms to the hopefully female (no, I do not entertain 3rd sex, hotdog-inserting idiots from Planet Loser) blog audience that this demented web batchelor's pad I own. Why the constant delays in blog posts and eventual explosion of sexual fluids from the female brethren? Laziness mainly (I've been staring at oogles of boobs and pantsu these days, c/o Queen's Blade and Saki), but really, I'd blame everything on the social instution of cock-sucking, hypocrites otherwise known as skool (seriously, I'd only love skool if there were girls named Yui, Mio, Ritsu, Mugi and Azusa there, but no...). Since I've just completed my 1st week of Satanic brainwashing from know-it-all "I love Blue Eaglet scrambled eggs" geezers, I'd be more than willing (oh yes, pleasure me, ladies) to give you my insights and philosophical dipshits on my current courses in some hellhole situated 15 mins (without Failippine traffic, but we all fucking know that's impossible) outside my diminutive, yet "I learned to love it after 9 months" err... apartment complex.

Fr. Kanae is Legend (fuck you, Will Smith)

Theology
Any subject ending with "Y" except for mixology, sexology (is there such a word? oh fuck grammatical correctness...), criminology (DUH! for mass murdering social anomalies also known as gays, trannies, traps and the annoying 10 year-old next door fondling himself with Bakugan balls) and pornography must be bad. Compound this with the fact that I detest God-speak more than I hate hearing Manny Pacquiao's atrociously horrendous nationalistic crap singing and you've got a recipe for profanity ejaculatory reactions from your one and only King. Only thing nice here? Multiple choice tests, but even that's offset by the potential (more like 75% sure... wait, make that 80%) reality that my professor is FUCKING GAY!!! and you'll know how much my stomach is upset like a limp dick after some oppai-lasering session with porn. Only thing worse than this would probably be Benny Hinn and the Pope in a cheap, Brokeback-inspired porn flick entitled "Heaven Sent." Oh fuck, please no...

Yui is now God...

Economics

Now this isn't that bad... If I can stomach 3 one hour sessions of bone-drying, saliva-releasing boredom that is. And we have calculus computation again!!! WTF!!! I've spent 6 units of that math shit already and I have to put up with tempura-fried brain cells again!? Are they fucking, "Mahatma Gandhi saying Jeebus is cool" mad!? Fine, this is basically a sure "A" grade for me, but hopefully I don't get bored enough to think about chopping some sausages from the saliva-spitting, crew-cut, "I'm a military felatio giver" guy beside me. I wouldn't want to be selling organic, blood-dripping, scrotum-crunched, corpse-fit dildos, would I?

Are you ready!? It's SHOWTIME!!!

Philippine History in the eyes of our Loser National Hero
Good thing is my professor fucking didn't show up on her first day because of swine flu (she must've fucked a swine like "Die Another Day"... fuck movie reference...). Bad thing, she gave us a useless, "I try to love the Philippines even though it's a shit-filled dumpster" assignment to work on while she was making her bestiality version of Tommy Lee and Pamela Anderson with her 1000 lb mammalian counterpart. Still, the assignment was fun enough for me to bash and urinate my Stephen Hawking-pwning thoughts on some by 1960's-dead Failippine general who basically became a male, 600 horse penis per second prostitute for the Americans (EA... It's in the game!). Why'd I choose this awful, supposed-to-be subservient, educator-bitch as my professor? Well, Internet rumors told she was hot, but coming from the cyber world that gave us rumors of Adam Lambert being gay (oh wait, that came true... behold the Internet=the real Nostradamus), I wouldn't be betting on it being true... Sawa-chan sensei is still the real deal!!!

"Where does pleasure lie?" In Kanu's oppai!!!

Philosophy
"Y" ending course? Of course it fails, but not as much as Theology aka God-Pseudo Science Fuck Time. But still, anytime you're thinking about "Oh why do I have to love others?" instead of "I need to fucking watch Bible Black again," you know you're in The Truth of Bizarro World (note, the BIG "T!!!"... seriosuly, philosophers worship the big "T" like the Dalai Lama worships Kim Jong Il's high-powered nukes crashing down on Tibetan cow-fucks). People say, "Life isn't all about practicality or rationality... blah blah, oops, I chopped off my tongue," but really, life's all about money and driving your dick on to faucet-mimicking pies (at least for me, I don't know for those "Rabbi Moses will give me a bunny rabbit" screw-jobs who'd rather ejaculate on their dog's miniscule ass). Good thing about Philosophy? Hmmm... Probably the fact that my professor looks like Jeebus in glasses with a personal affinity for Kermit the Frog. Oh yeah!

My business... cheap, affordable (but not Taki Corp. quality) sex dolls in 10 years

Business Organizations
Finally, a course that's related to my fucking line of study. Well, bad thing is, I screwed up like Janet Jackson's Super Bowl nip slip by being a smart-ass (not really smart, pretty dumb actually, but not as dumb as Sesame Street-fondling 5 year olds) thinking I got the logically correct response in a recitation mano e mano with this throat-infected, ancient Wu Tang Clan, gayness to the infinite power professor of mine. Turns out I fucked up like a dehydrated bitch who can't spew out orgasmic honey any more and I can now proudly say that my professor has unofficially given me the title of "idiot who I can torture like an S&M addicted dolt and make fun of like a dickless clown running around in circles." Not the best thing in the world (wanna trade places with me?), but at least we have a semester ending feast (better make the food good, bitch...) from said professor, although I'd need to survive 2 days a week of rib-nudging, patience-testing, wit-masticating annoyance. Dammit, I'm now on the realm of "Michael Vick shooting down canine bitches" dumbness...

I shall now account for the apparent wallet weight-loss due to pre-ordering this...

Accounting
Ironically, my worst subject actually interests me this semester. Why? Well, one, the professor looks like Droopy the Dog who just lost millions on overinflated real estate values. Seriously, it's like he doesn't wanna even be in the fucking class breathing the same polluted, dust-bunny propagating, aerated mucous reproducing atmosphere as us! And secondly, I kind of missed my failing grades from technical, accountant-cummage tests that it was a nice sight seeing the columnar pads of terror once again, making me bleed like a profusely menstruating bimbo. Besides, any other subject in a semester with Theology and Philospohy at the same time looks like Matsumoto Jun in a room of naked NEETs (omg, Higashi no Eden reference... Kamiyama is god).


The One Month Overdue Random Thoughts of Sausage Pwnage...

- FUCK SCHOOL!!! FUCK SCHOOL!!! FUCK SCHOOL!!! FUCK SCHOOL!!! FUCK SCHOOL!!! Oh yeah, FUCK SCHOOL!!!

- No, I am not excited to see the faces of my classmates... give me moe anyday...

- Depression over the loss of Queen's Blade, K-ON! and Saki will leave me grumpier than Kobe Bryant's grumpiness, which was actually his inner self laughing at the god-awfulness of the name Hedo Turkoglu...

- Yes, I am officially in debt of 28000 yen... you do the math...

- No, I will not listen to any rants, emotional outbursts of which I detest and alien terms and contexts harder to decipher than Stallone's language of Gruntish...


Queen's Blade corner is on hiatus... until season 2 that is!!!

Writing For The Deathseeker...

Don't be mad C.C., I'm not leaving your site behind... Just reorganizing...

No, this is not going to be my normal social-flaming, fat ass exposing, Grand Theft Auto-anarchism of a blog post... Well, at least not for today. This is merely an informal statement from your Great Emperor of Britannian Hotness that my semi-regular, feel-like-it, demented updates regarding figures will no longer be a part of this fucked-up Blogger site of profane orgasm and uncaring, ball-busting social destruction. My figure posts, as well as my infallible, divinely-gifted insights on the figure industry, will now be moving on to Panther's site, The Deathseeker. Well why move on? Because I want to, fucking cock-pleasing, cum-slurping bitches! I feel that my god-like influence over there will be 10-raised-to-the-power-of-infinity greater simply because there are a lot more otaku connections that go through there and not to mention that the web master has already graciously accepted my request for the freakin' job. So will this be goodbye for your barely 2 month-old sanctuary of sanguine sex organ-exploding, social institution-skinning, idiot-burning Blog of Supreme Universal Knowledge? No. All of the flaming rants, profanitygasms and fucktard-demoralizing goodness will still remain here, as well as most of my personal thoughts and calculated sexual needs (ok, not needs, more like desires...). Obviously, I'm not a fucking moron to bring my trademark "Make some whiny bitch homo-bastards cry" posts to a site with no such testicle-creaming, dick salami-chopping goodness, which is why my Blogger site will remain to satisfy your carnal, cunt-wetting needs for mind-numbing, anal-regurgitation. With that being said, I hope you continue to fucking support both this glorious, heaven-sent site and my second home over at Panther's abode, lest I shall call for Adam Lambert to fondle your titties and animalize you like some Failippine bitch, before I finally kill him as well with a 600 hp chainsaw, leaving his gay, eyeliner-drawn organic vessel in a pool of rotting, decomposing, bloodworm-infested sanguine fluids.


The Random Thoughts For Today's Bonechilling Revelation of Failed Shortness

- Fucking Failippine geography and weather is as failed as its people...

- I finally got to finish watching some of my other backlogs... shows you the boring repetitiveness polluting my kingly existence...

- I am starting to hate a certain shop here for seemingly neglecting their figure pre-orders... goddamn this bitchfest shit...

- May 22 shall be known as the day that Hong Kong has proven itself to be my second favorite place on this trash heap, Payatas-macrocosm of a planet...

- Shoujo S is hot, but the SCANDAL girls are even hotter...

And so, I bring you K-ON!... I mean, SCANDAL, in their wet, feminine glory...

And So My Despicable Chain of Boredom Persists...

Boredom is a sign of a lack of Hosaka l33t-ness...

It seems like only a freakin' millisecond ago that I posted my last entry into this pseudo-religious, anti-conformist vacuum of space of mine in The Universe of Cyber Fucking Geeks, and yet, here I am, wallowing in pitiful sloth-like behavior typing into my already creaky, grandmama-frail keyboard about totally dividing, Satanically evil, socially antagonizing shit, which all of you probably eat for breakfast, aside from the normal portions of human guts and rotting cranial juices. Yes, I am this fucking bored, and to think school is still a good month away (not that I'm too excited about seeing jack-offs, bitches and whining babies in need of teats again...), I cannot help but think that I will transform into a dried prune from extreme laziness and saliva excretion resulting from a lack of worthwhile knowledge and supposdly inherent interest in this "Boom Tiah-yah, Boom Tiya-yah" Discovery Channel fucked-up world of ours. Because of this, I am here once again trying to impart Sacred Knowledge of the Heavens to all of you, uneducated peasants who know of nothing but sex, which would hopefully make some, if not all, at least .000001% as great as Yours Truly, Divine Emperor of the Multiverses (Jet Li's "The One" only crowning achievement in an attempt to construct any sensible sci-fi term, in hopes that Merriam-Webster can masturbate at its unique brand of faildom).

I never get bored of this, and neither should you...

Never-ever Watch Anime When You Are in Possession of Bundles of Fucking Kash...
Fine, this is a fucked-up exaggeration, considering the suspense and dick-thrill that Queen's Blade and Nodoka's giant boobies give people every week, that they feel the need to burn the ISP's bandwidth til' those whack-job techno-shits get nipple-pinched pissed off and puts a cap on their 2 mbps connections (cock-suckers at Globe Broadband apparently just had a homo-screwing party...). Nonetheless, this is a pretty goddamn accurate (no, not Iraqi shoe-throwing idiot accurate) description of what this financially devilish, sell-all-my-shit stuff, summer has been for me, especially with my almost weekly procurements of sexy PVC figures that are now starting to irritate my mom, not for their steaming hot erotic nature, but because of the copious amounts of cash burned into acquiring my lovely beauties, despite the shit-filled, bitch-pig AIG-caused economic recession. An excellent description of this would be my current throttling bonerfest with guiltfully senseless strip-and-rape, Chinese historical male visual Viagra, Ikki Tousen. Pre-summer time, I wasn't even in the realm (biggest mistake of my supposedly infallible life, but hey, my wallet was happy then...) of deciding to watch this orgy of pleasurable pantsu shots, bubbly bouncing oppai and girl-to-girl raep galore, which I can now say is better than any fucked-up Biblical manna given to some ride-the-pine, screw my neighbor's rib-exposed mongrel, "I love fake wafers," Israelites. Now, after meticulously watching Ikki Tousen like some fan-service, 2D Wonderland-obsessed hikkikomori and in the process of watching its sequels, I'm hooked like some druggie paying 10 grand for grass and injecting it into his fucking rubbery-tight anal cavity. Needless to say, I immediately Googled for crassly commercialized merchandise and forcefully excreted half of the Washingtons I got from selling my 2 year-old baby-blue PSP into getting one of the rarer, and obviously one of the more expensive, Ikki Tousen figures on the market. God, I'm a sucker for stripfest, boob-exposing, cameltoe-profiling school-girls, not to mention having "main character-itis." I pray for the health of my cheap-ass, China-produced, dog-poop constituted, wallet.

I normally hate stupid girls, but Sonsaku Hakufu just makes my eyes melt like butter...

CleAning Figures is a Pain in the Ass
I really fucking need, as in 50 lb skeleton-silhouette exposed frail old geezer crawing for a piece of stale fly-larvae infested bread, a display cabinet. While having a few PVC figures does not reveal the problem at first, a growing, healthy collection will eventually shit you down to the merciless reality of figure maintenance, or in layman's idiotic terms, cleaning aka being a masculine, Armstrong-esque, meido and getting downright dust-inhaling dirty and growing some Domex-balls to lug around your lazy, fat, feces-stenched, brief-strangled ass being a figure caretaker. Well, summer time isn't such a freakin' bad time for cleaning, as the boring, lackadaisical days offer some (fine, a dumpster-load of fucking, sex time... errm... free time) time for figure carressing and fluid cloth swiping to erase those dustbabies falling like miniature paratroopers onto their humanoid skyscraper-equivalents. However, the vulgarly despicable thought of returning to Social Reformation Institute of Fail aka school, makes me cringe like some seizure-attacked, uglier than my grandmama's monkey, Mongoloid at the thought that my precious, itsy-bitsy PVC figures will be demonically exposed to the harsh, Sahara Desert-ripoff Failippine dick-shortening, balls squeezing weather, without me to safeguard them. With no IKEA in town (come-on, you expect this third-world country of embarrassment to have one? hell, even Nigeria's catching up to us), I'd probably have to resort to buying a display cab from the Devil Incarnates known as the SM group (hehe, sado-masochists... they probably spank each others tits with Ferragamo leather). However, I'd first have to find some time to go to their dreaded department store as my whole clan from the sanguine 'hood is seemingly engaged in some shoot-to-kill camo mission to hunt down some money-shitting sycophants.

Stick your thick, fantastic plastic stick...

The Best Words I've Read Since This MorNing
The item (RA255558823HK) is being processed for departure from Hong Kong as of 20-May-2009. (oh yeah, baby!!!) -- Obviously, damn dick-lickers, this refers to my poorly masked (hell, any sane, intelligent person already knows by now which figure I'm getting) next figure purchase from overseas, which I searched for like a heat-seeking, Afghan-ass demolishing, phallic missile all over the web. Luckily, some fire sale-inspired Hong Kong hobby store still had it in stock, and at SRP to boot, immediately making me pounce on it like a sex-craving, penis-ballooned nutjob who can't hold his fucking load. I actually put off buying this first, since I needed to buy the HJ Limited Reina, and I wasn't sure this was going to still be in stock, given that it is a volcano-hot, pantsu-exposing, oppai-flaunting, rare figure after all, but thankfully, my gamble paid off and I'm going to end my summer with two rare PVC figures on hand (3, if I hedonistically decide to go gorilla-bananas and spend like Donald Trump's diamond-encrusted supermodel bitch), as well as, hopefully, some newly arrived pre-ordered figures on hand (come on, GT, I need you to come through...). Overall, this is shaping up to be a fucking successful summer of repeated, almost poorly scripted, monotony, but enhanced with figure acquisition dynamism.


Randomly Random ThoUghts of Erotic (not) Nature

- GreattoysOnline, from which I source most of my Megahouse and Kotobukiya figures, as well as some of the older, yet equally, high-quality figures, has a 20% sale on PVC figures right now, which is causing me great intellectual pain for forcing me to decide on either a display cab or another figure... FUCK!

- I've finally gotten some quality sleep-time (unfortunately, it's not with a hot, oppai-bountiful, ass-grabbable Japanese AV idol) after the roller-coaster, mental insanity that enveloped my cranial muscles in safeguarding my precious online purchase...

- My burger cravings are acting up again like some irritable tick trying to ingest fresh human blood from a 450 lb walking pile of combustible flubber... hell, I'd even admit McDonald's is good food if you give me one of their processed piles of animal dung-imitations...

- No, I am not a fan of American Idol, but I will watch it's finale just for the sake of tradition (for some reason, my family only watches the finale... probably because we like seeing faces of dejected failure epitomized by the crapulence of mucous-paired tears being shoved down their testicle-chewing oral cavities)...

- The proliferation of oppai mouse pads nowadays makes me want to dump my shitty, siumai-smelling, crap-job Marvel mouse pad in favor of a C.C. one... now that's yummy!

- If you're a keen observer, you'd have known by now which character's PVC figure rendition I'm waiting for to arrive...

Queen's Blade corner: Boobs cannon Melona...

Cooking Shows and How They Further Expose Failippine Embarassment

Tabemashou? Nah, fuck this shit...

I've always been an avid, slightly demented, but gastronomically satisfied, follower of cooking shows. Other than anime, and the occasional sports event, cooking shows have completely dominated my externally simple, yet admittedly extravagant, lifestyle as no doubt proven by my ever expanding legions of PVC figures, many of which are of the uncommon kind, such as the much sought after erotically posed Ichiban Kuji C.C. and the recently acquired jokingly clothed, luscious to the touch, Megahouse Hobby Japan Limited Reina. Why my unhealthy obsession with cooking shows is beyond verifiable, researchable reason, as if I am naturally drawn to sounds of sizzling muscle fibers, extracted from a glorified primal ritual, signalling a shift of life essence from the lesser, now deceased, organism to equally vile, yet cerebrally gifted, animals known as humans. It's as if cooking is the Fullmetal Alchemist-equivalent of real fucking life -- to reconstitute something out of different elements and make something whole, hopefully beneficial to the very human who inputted the timeless knowledge into creating such thing. In this case, most TV chefs greatest achievements lie not in the seemingly delicious, yet probably piss-drunk food they show on the telly, but the uncontrollable expansion of their bank accounts, streaming as a result of countless idiots and morons like me, who continue to be entranced by their slicky dicky vocabulary, no doubt a reward for selling their soul to broadcast Satans and their minions of Yale-fucked, homo-erotic scriptwriters.

Ah yes, the good old days where Legendary Tools make shit turn to gold...

Moving on, I was watching Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations episode on South-east Asia's Dickless Dumpster around a week ago, and I saw that surprisingly, there was no mention of the now infamous balut, or steamed duck embryonic eggs, which are carnally devoured by the street break-fluid drinking, rugby-inhaling jack-offs in greater Manila, during the entire run of the show. While further contemplation reinforced the fact that showing such a ghastly excuse for "national" foods would make Bourdain's no-holds barred, profanity-laden, bad-ass show into an Andrew Zimmern freak-show rip-off, I was surprised at the fact that chicken balls, or processed shit composed of even more compounded shit, normally mixed in warehouse plants teeming with 600 lb roaches excreting their invertebrate feces all over gigantic plastic containers with crusty molds manifesting on the surface, was shown on the show, and with Bourdain even eating and liking the fucking shit. Now, in a world where fresh is good, processed is cunt-excreted, incest-like taboo in the elitist food industry composed of confounding trademarks such as Adria, Blumenthal, Ramsey and God-knows, Rachael Ray, it was surprising that Failippine media authorities related to the production of the said show would even allow, or even have the audacity to do so, such a retarded thing as stuffing Bourdain's smoke-stenched, beer-guzzling oral cavities with shit sold for the urnitating semi-nigger Asian kid down the streets of Chinatown (well, Tony was fucking dumb as well for not noticing that the fowl ball he ate wasn't even fresh shit... Ramsey's hell-tongue seems to have the best "This is FAKE DOGFOOD CRAP" radar). Seeing this travesty and national embarassment only made me remember another fond incident of television shamelessness that only my countrymen, only in passport, could even fucking think about.

After watching Blade of the Immortal, I realized that the only people more stupid than Rin are Failipinos...

Around last year, before moving into our N-th number of house (I think it's already our 5th move last August... no we're not fucking rich, far from it, bitches), I was watching the Asian Food Channel on stolen cable television (yes, only in the Republic of Corrupt Dwarves) at around 8 am (yeah, I wake up early, fucktards, got a problem with that?) and I see this Canadian show with a nigger Canadian host (seriously, nigger and Canadian... what could be worse?) inviting no-name, well at least most of their limited, PBS-level time, shithole cooks to the set and asking them to transmute some organic shit and turn it into edible matter fit for canine consumption, and to some extent, humans with electrocuted, "I just drank 10 liters of lighter fluid" palates. The thing is, most of the food cooked are based on whatever obscure, whore-filled, cum-bathing nation the guest school cafeteria reject came from. Unluckily, the morning I was mentioning showed a rotting, corpse-looking, maggot-attracting, decomposing Failippina granny cooking kare-kare (peanut buttered pork with 25 cent shit-ass veggies) on the televised hour of unimaginable failure. Normally, a sane person on TV would use the freshest, unpretentious ingredients to cook on the show, but no... As always, Failippinos need and even crave to further humiliate themselves like some publicly fucked prostitute getting hammered by 70 inch American black boners, with crusted sperm-devoid semen penetrating her sagging pussy. And lo and behold, line cook Malay-descent, cook-in-the-morning, bitch-at-night granny takes out Mama Sita's kare-kare powder mix and says that only powdered shit makes for authentic (wow, I can already hear Ramsey screaming "YOU FAKER!!!") braised pork in peanut shit sauce. At first, I was wowed by the ditzy, clearly uneducated, idiocy of granny, but I was even more appalled by the stupidity showed by the nigger Canadian whore. I mean, she basically accepted that authentic kare-kare is made using .05 cent packaged, roach-drooled, rat-manure powdered mixes that only a third-world, squatter-run country would use, simply because they have no sense of personal pride and would rather suck fat American dick for a few minutes of humiliating air time. The aftermath of watching the show only confirmed two things for me: One, Failippinos like to humiliate themselves like African sado-masochists who need some spear-imapaling on the ass and two, Failippinos manage to convert the normals around them into fellow morons. Now that's what I call hospitality (more like club recruitment for the League of Extraordinary Social Failures).

We shall celebrate with more Sheryl fanservice...

A BIG THANK YOU!!!

Now I'm not big on stuff like these, hell I don't even remember to greet my parents happy birthday at times, but thank you very much, bitches, for the 500 visits to my smash-mouth, balls-to-the-wall, greater than great, godly blog of Universal Salvation. Without all your needs and throbbing cunts for word orgasm, this would not be possible and I hope my Boner of Literary Succulence can further satisfy your desires in the future. Again, thank you for the undying support, fucktards.

Oh, the pain of waiting...

Figure Updates

As of now, I am still waiting for my 1/7 Kotobukiya Nagi Nekomimi Ver., which is a serious pain in the butt. Along with that, the recently released sexy as hell 1/8 Megahouse G.E.M. Zero has still not arrived in Failippine shores, which makes me even cringe in disgust even more. As a result, my insatiable lust for figures has grown exponentially like a dick in need of some good ol' rubbing. I've also decided to sell off my PSP, which has surprisingly lasted two years already with me, despite the constant play time I had with it. Hopefully, before summer ends, I can add at least two more major hauls alongside the aforementioned figures above, before I prepare for the upcoming 1/8 Alpha x Omega Sheryl Nome (my galactic fairy... sigh) and GSC's Moka (Awakened Ver.). Currently, I'm thinking of getting Alter's Kanu Unchou and probably, Max Factory's Ignis, provided that my acquisition plan is not derailed by some idiotic natural disaster, dumb-as-hell bozo who buys them off first, or an economic meltdown caused by some mole-pinned 4 foot dwarf (oh wait, we're already melted-down...). Hopefully, my target of 10 PVC figures by the end of the year comes true.


Random Thoughts (Midnight Edition)

- Usually I'd jack-off at night when I was younger, but now, morning seems more actively enhancing...

- No, I am not surfing porn right now...

- I realized that buying Gunpla was a waste of time and money... hell, Bandai will troll you after every one or two months with the same fucking mech... see Gundam Exia model kits...

- My Internet connection is having menstruation periods right now... it's so fucking bitchy, Lindsay Lohan would be an altar girl compared to Globe's inconsistent mess...

- Watching loli Yui makes all problems go away... ah fuck, my wallet's drained... well, maybe not...

Queen's Blade corner: Snake-slithered pussy assassin, Echidna... oh yeah, she's into yuri as well...

Figure Review: 1/8 Vagrant Warrior Reina by Megahouse

Fresh out of Wasabi Toys' shelves... yummy...

Manufacturer: Megahouse
Series: Queen's Blade
Scale: 1/8 (approx. 20 cm)
Product line: Excellent Model CORE (P-8)
Release date: February 2009

Since getting my first Queen's Blade figure, I was encouraged to do a review on it, since it was certainly different from any of my other previous acquisitions, in terms of both being a cast-off and the issues that came with assembly. Moreover, it was such a beautiful figure that I felt a review would justify my excitement over it.

The Box
The box encasing the figure was very similar to Megahouse's more recent releases in the Queen's Blade line, in that it was a lot bigger in comparison to the earlier boxes, such as the P-1 figures of Reina and Nowa. The box design is a mixed bag for me though. The front of the box leaves little to be desired, as I very much liked the Japanese labels of the earlier releases than the current English ones. However, the sides and the back portions are beautifully designed, with generous pictures of Reina highlighting the assets of the figure. On a funny note: It is peculiar that the Japanese would place Reina's measurements on the side of the box, but I enjoyed the informative touch very much. Since my figure is basically just a recolor of the regular 2P release, the box features are probably the same, apart from the huge "Hobby Japan Limited Version" printed on the front. Despite the design nitpicks, the bigger box allows for better protection of the figure, and it shows, since mine had some small dents at the side, yet the inner plastic casing was unharmed.

Give me some head!!!

The Head
Comparisons to the earlier P-1 release of Reina is inevitable, and even I had to admit, I was not very keen on the face of the P-8 release at first, seeing the posted pictures on the Internet. But considering the poor lighting conditions the images had (i.e. Tokyo Hunter's infamous pic), I had to see for myself to confirm it. Thankfully, the face itself is very wonderfully sculpted, anime accurate even. Whereas the P-1 release was notorious for its Mai-Hime look-alike face, the P-8 is closer, in my opinion, to recreating the anime/book features of Reina. However, if there is one thing that the P-1 release got right, it was the hair color. A slightly yellow-orange tinge was used for the earlier release, which in my opinion, suits Reina much better than the current more yellow-heavy tinge accented by slightly darker shades of yellow. Overall, still a very nice head sculpt. Note: The hair issue does not apply to the 2P regular release.

Her oppai are only for my eyes, bitches!!!

The Body
The body sculpt of Reina is very well done, with no nasty seam lines present, except for her detachable right hand wherein the seam is not even noticeable. This is because the body is a single piece construction, which was probably harder to produce, given the intricate curves of Reina's body, but the effort shows and it is beautiful. Her oppai are also wonderfully done, with the pink parts done just right. The paint job, despite a few hiccups, is very well done, as there is not a single trace of factory mistakes in the flesh-tones of her body, with mistakes only visible when her armor is taken off. Megahouse has definitely hit a home run with the body sculpt on this one.

Those leather straps make me wanna spank Reina... (sado-masochistic imagery)

The Armor
The armor is definitely one of the highlights of this figure. The details are very intricate, especially in the midsection where the armor abdominals are well defined. Despite being molded in hard plastic, the look of the armor says otherwise as it gives of a blueish metallic sheen (at least for the Hobby Japan limited version... the 2P regular release's armor is black) that is pleasing to the eyes. However, in my opinion, I would've liked a gunmetal finish to the armor, much like Griffon's Treasure Festa Reina. Still, Reina's skimpy armor is given justice by Megahouse.

Straps of emotional frustration...

The Leather Straps Issue
By themselves, the leather straps of Reina are very well sculpted with a dynamic flow to them that does not give off a bland sense of movement. However, since they are separate from the armor itself, there's a need to insert them into little holes seen in Reina's armor. However, being a mass-produced figure, it was expected that some problems were to occur, and lo and behold, one of the male parts for inserting into the holes was too big, needing quite a bit of hole enlargement and a little force to insert the loose strap. Moreover, one of the straps' insertion points was beneath the leather surrounding Reina's shoulder portion, thus requiring quite a tedious process of "feeling out" the insertion point. If there was one minor problem with this fig, this was it.

The road to heavenly bliss was pure, logic-bending hell...

Cast-offability
While I raved about the single-piece construction of Reina's body and the superb tightness of her armor, it severely compromised the cast-offability of the figure. This was because instead of manufacturing the strap portions surrounding Reina's right arm separately from the main armor (another single piece construction), it was connected directly to the armor itself, therefore needing dexterous maneuvering of the armor just to take off and put it back on. The dense plastic also did not help in easing the load of cast-offing the fig, as it was reminiscent of alligator jaws in how tight the strap portion on the right arm was. So while the single-piece nature of the armor is a very pleasing sight in terms of aesthetic value, reducing seam lines, it compromises the cast-off nature of the figure. So would I cast-off Reina again? Very doubtful, considering it took me 1 hr just to put back the armor correctly, almost leaving me in tears of frustration trying to do so.

Oh Reina, what a long, hard sword you have... better to penetrate her with...

Accessories
Reina comes with her standard sword, which is very well made, even though it is composed of PVC plastic as well. It does not feel cheap and the paint job is excellent. It is peculiar though how the sword seems a bit lewd in nature, especially with the mushroom-top design at the tip, but hey, it fits Reina perfectly. Note that her sword in my figure is different from the 2P regular release which looks more like a drill. However, I would've also wanted Megahouse to include her shield which was in the P-1 release, but I guess it would be impossible to hold since Reina's left arm is touching her wonderful butt.

Verdict
Although Megahouse's latest interpretation of my favorite Queen's Blade character is not perfect by all means, especially with regards to its ease in cast-offing and the annoying loose leather straps, it is a godly work of external beauty which masks the functionality issues it has. Looking at my figure, it does give off a sexy and powerful presence that is not present in my other collections (although the Kuji C.C. still takes the cake in terms of personal affinity) and it is quite a beauty, as expected from the good folks at Megahouse. Would I recommend getting this? Definitely. Although be prepared for a hard time in exposing Reina's assets, as well as wallet pain, if you do decide to get the limted release.

Scores
Paint job - 9/10
Overall sculpt - 10/10
Functionality - 7.5/10
Display factor - 10/10
Price - 5/10 (limited release) 10/10 (2P regular release)