Monday, June 27, 2005

Is Hollywood ever gonna get it right??

I watched the latest Batman movie yesterday and it's the best Batman they've made so far. Nice realistic plot and true to comic milieu of Batman. BUT, I have only one complaint.

Is Holly fucking Wood ever gonna get the oriental culture right??????

Bits of the movie involved Bruce Wayne escaping from a prison in China and he was instructed to venture up the snow-caped mountain in what looks like the Northern bit of China (looks sort of like Mongolia or Tibet). I'm pretty dead sure it's in China cos the Chinese prisoners where Bruce spoke in Chinese. But then when he got up to the snowy mountain, Bruce Wayne met some Japanese ninja master and there're in fact a bunch of ninjas. Now isn't that strange or what????? Japanese ninja on a Chinese mountain???????? Hello Hollywood???? Though we Chinese and Japanese have yellow skin but Japan is an ocean away from China!! I simply can't believe it!

What really amazes and amuses me is the fact that in the movie, the Chinese prisoners in the cell actually spoke perfect English. So did the Chinese tribes who lived on the foot of that snow-caped mountain.

Why? Oh why must Holly fucking Wood americanized and westernized the oriental to the point that it doesn't make sense??? You don't see the ang mohs in Asian movies speaking Chinese or other Asian languages do you? Well, ocassionally you do, but it's simply not the norm!

American simply americanize every single damn thing and it really shits me! I remember watching Enemy At The Gates which features the war between the Germans and Russians during the Stalin regime. Hunky Dory Jude Law played the famous Russian sniper Vasili Ziesafv (pardon me for my spelling cos I have no idea how to spell it) while Joseph Finnes play some German soldier hunting after Jude and no prize for guessing what lauguage the two conversed in! They spoke in English!!!!??? Okay, fine, whatever! You might say but they're Germans and Russians! Perhaps English really is the common language but then the problem is, the Germans spoke to other Germans in the film in English while the Russians converse with their commrades in fluent English too!How ridiculous???? I simply can't stand it!

What is wrong with Hollywood?? Time to check your facts buddy!!! And stop globalizing the whole world and eating into different culture the American way cos it sucks! Especially with a dumb President like Bush! The rest of the world might not want too much association with that. Enough is enough!

Friday, June 24, 2005

Men's Magazine, Stupid Straight Men and Alluring Gay Men

I finally figure out why my gay friend, Nic, would always be the perfect man in my eyes! Apart from his to-die-for swimmer bod (Woohoo! My temperature rises simply by thinking of it!) with the perfectly-toned six pecs, V-shaped body, bubble butt and gorgeous face (he looks like the Chinese version of VJ Utt), he IS indeed the perfect man cos he understands all my needs inside out! All my whimps and fancy, my emotional needs, whatever you name it, he understands it! And I'm starting to think that the reason is that he simply reads Men's magazines with care. As in really read the article and not just look at the pictures of half-dangling boobs.

I was just refusing to work on a Friday afternoon (normally I switch off after noon) and happened to be reading the articles in Men's Health. Boy!!! I didn't know they have articles to teach men how to handle women better!! There's one article that tell men how to be better in bed and it's catered to satisfying the female species. Then there's another one that educates clueless men how to deal with their girlfriends' needs. I'm kinda surprised and I thought, ney...maybe it's just this issue. But when I went through my archive of Men's Health, Maxim and FHM magazines, they DO have articles like that every month!! So what the fuck is going on you men out there???? Come on!! I know you guys read those stuff but how come you guys aren't becoming smarter when dealing with us?? And I still hear complaints like "Aiyah, you're damn high maintence lah", "Well, if you want something you gotta ask for it!!!!" or "You're just too sensitive dear!" Argh..that drives me nuts!!

I was on the phone with my good friend just now and learnt that she, too, is having issues with the boyfriend and we share similar problems. In fact, most of our girlfriends have similar, recurring issues as mine and I come to think that perhaps straight men are simply....well, dumb and dense.

Our straight dudes do read men's magazines but how come their gay counterparts are scoring so much better on the attractive scale is that they pay attention to articles. Nic reads every article in the men's mag and that includes the "how to make your girlfriend feels better" stuff every month. Straight men, on the other hand, look at nothing but the scantily bikini-clad babes, drool and lust after them (okay, some do more than that but I don't wanna think about it) and nothing else. How annoying! Cos with the copious amount of free porn out there, you straight guys might as well just don't waste that 5 bucks to get a copy of lad's mag (I can tell you pretty sure that if Singapore ever allows things like Playboy or Hustler, no title like FHM or Men's Health would sustain its business)! Since you're not learning, you might as well use that 5 bucks to buy yourself a MacDonald value meal instead!

I asked my guy friend if he ever reads articles like that and he said with a grim and annoying reply: "Aiyah, what you expect, we're men what! Visual-driven creatures! All those lovey dovey article shit simply is too long-winded lah. I'd rather look at the big neh neh pok. I tried to read the articles but I usually stop halfway loh. No big deal what!"

Nothing that surprises me really but seriously, men can sometimes be really self-obsessed and I hate that. Being self-obsessed's fine but let's just get it straight. Sometimes it's not that we're needy and unreasonable but you guys are simply fucking dense like a dead piece of log and simply don't learn!

And to nic if you happen to be reading this: You'd better make sure I'm still number one on your waiting list if you ever decide to turn straight!

Peril of empty apartment and decaying corpse

I miss home. I miss having company in my apartment cos I'm sick of going back to an empty home everyday cos it makes me feel really isolated. This is one of those times that I miss having my naggy quarrelsome mom and aloof dad. I hate this feeling cos it makes me feel lonely and weak, as if I'm not able to be by myself and independent.

Thing is, to many, they envy the fact that I have the whole apartment to myself and not having my mom around to nag about not leaving your socks on the floor or bags on the sofa. By try doing that for 12 years since 14 years old and you might just feel the way I feel.

Sure it was good when I first started out living alone away from my family. No curfew, no nagging and you get to literally walk around the apartment buck naked. I was overjoyed and thrilled at first, thriving on the independence. But slowly as the years go by, the initial thrill started to wean off. Especially when days where I'm so sick that I could hardly get out of bed but still have to struggle my way to the doctor or hospital all by myself. I hate that.

I do have friends to hang out with but there's only so much friends can offer and my boyfriend isn't exactly there all the time. But it's a different thing cos having your own family around does make a bit of a difference. How exactly I can't really pinpoint but somehow I feel better, as if there's a sense of security with their presence that tells you that there're people who love you and that everything's gonna be fine.

As I grow older, I'm starting to feel that I need more of that emotional security and assurance. I dunno why but my older friends told me it's just a sign of growing older and realizing that your family and loved ones are more important than say a pair of Gucci shoes or nabbing a new exciting job. Ultimately, it's that higher emotional needs that goes beyond daily survival that really need to be fulfilled. I long for the physical presence of those that I love cos I feel lonely sometimes.

What seems really tragic but realistic is what I used to tell my friends. I say to them, if I die in my room, nobody would know it until months later when my rotting dead body starts to reek up the whole neighborhood. Think about it. If I don't turn up for work and don't pick up calls, my boss would think that I"m simply playing punk and going AWOL cos after all, she knows how she and Jabba The Hutt mistreat me. And if my friends and parents call and I don't pick up, they'll think that I'm just too busy or being a bitch and don't bother picking up nor replying. Then, if my boyfriend calls and I don't answer, he'll think that I'm just getting psycho and getting mad at stupid things and wouldn't wanna talk to him. And the next thing is, before they know it, they see my face in the home news section that reads "Decayed Body Found in Braddell". That's one of the worst nightmare I have really. One that I really dread and probably one that makes me sound like I'm some 84-year-old old bitch who live by myself. It's tragically depressing.
(err...Becky, if you're reading'll say that "Eh but I'm home what!" But think about it, if you come back and knock on the door and I don't answer, you'll think I'm asleep and you having bad sinus and having a blocked nose all the time, wouldn't notice that my dead decaying flesh is in fact rotting away!)

Sigh...I guess I'm just feeling needy now...but really, I hate my living arrangement.

Monday, June 20, 2005

If life is a bitch, then I'm a salmon!

I tender my resignation as a Salmon! I don't wanna be a salmon anymore! Can somebody turn me into a big fat whale instead???

I'm feeling like I'm a struggling salmon. Of all the fishes, salmon probably has a pretty tough life cos it gotta struggle and swim upstream against the flow most of the time. I'd settle to be a fat whale anytime, nevermind the layers of bubbler they have cos anyway, I don't see any cellulite.

I'm struggling with my sanity now cos after feeling better and gaining some perspective yesterday, I woke up this morning getting apprehensive cos I'm afraid I'll feel like shit again and go psycho on everyone with my uncontrollable temper while sinking into depression.'s shit cos after struggling to feel better, now I have to worry about keeping up with the positive outlook and not losing it again. Life is indeed a bitch.

Yet another worry is the probability of nabbing a new decent job. Fast. I want a new job offer now!!! I realize it's really the end of my tolerance race this morning when I feel sick in the stomach the moment I walked into my little sterile office while Jabba The Hutt let out one fake and slimy "Morrrrrrrning" to me. Then as my boss walked in (god!! Is she ever gonna stop dragging her fucking little feet as she walks?), I conjured up mental images of kicking her teeth in with my 3-inch heels. Hmm...come to think of it, I might just be doing her a favor kicking her teeth in cos she's got some serious buck teeth and really should be visiting the orthodontist soon. To put it in a more poetic way, she has teeth that can very well double up as carrot scraper...Oops, the inner bitch is out!

Anyway, I'm one tired salmon and perhaps my priority now is not to struggle upstream but just let things be and switch off my mind for awhile. Tough, I know, especially with an overactive brain like my which probably is badly in need of a lobotomy. But I'll try at least.

I think I'm gonna stop struggling for awhile and just chill out. Take it easy, tune out, step down, nevermind the rest of the pack are still braving upstream. I guess sometimes in life, in order to move forward, perhaps you just gotta let go and take a step back and let the current carry you for awhile instead and just chill.

Salmon sashimi anyone?

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Suffer my little boyfriend

I've turned into a major monster. A quarrelsome, unreasonable, psychotic, uncontrollable one.

I've come to realize that it's not exactly PMS I'm experiencing but I'm bordering on the verge of going into a major depression. I have no idea why or how it got started but I just remember rather vividly that everything went downhill after I got attacked by Jabba The Hutt.

You might think that I over-react to some bitchy office politics cos after all, it's already resolved and I ought to think of moving on. Yes, moving on is really what I have in mind. As in really moving on to find a new job cos my office environment really is killing me.

I've been with this fucked up, supposedly glamourous and high profile french company for a year and I think my tolerance level is running dangerously low. If I stay on, I can assure you that all my pent-up frustration would manifest into what the medical world would call "tumor". The office environment is highly carcinogenic.

I hate the fact that there's politics even when it's such a small set up run by four chicks and a 3 against 1 (aka me) situation isn't exactly very easy for me to swallow. I'm sick of getting bitched at all the time, sick of having to do lunch by myself in my own sterile room everyday, sick of being excluded in things that the trio do, sick of feeling the kind of social isolation that will turn anyone into a mental case, sick of my boss' rude attitude and unfriendly face, sick of walking out of the office everyday feeling the unhealthy pent-up anger that affects everyone, and totally tired of wanting to try to improve on the environment cos I give up. I just don't wanna try anymore. Sometimes in life, there simply comes a point where you think that you've done all you can and nothing you do would improve the situation and you just gotta admit it's simply the way it is and you can't change it.

I miss having colleagues who're my close friends too. Miss having working days that's peppered with laughter and jokes. Miss being able to be my goofy self with funny pranks and corny jokes. Miss getting the kind of social support I used to get in my previous jobs. Now, I'm getting kinda depressed and I'm upset that my pent-up frustration is eating into my personal life.

Yes, suffer my little boyfriend. Well, he's not exactly little cos he's the size of an average adult bear but he simply has the misfortune of getting my shit and pent-up frustration. I'm guilt-ridden cos for the past one week, I've been terribly ridiculous, flaring up at every single small thing that normally doesn't bug me. I get angry at everything and blow everything up out of proportion, and totally ruin both our moods. It obviously doesn't help when I get that the world against me kinda attitude, thinking that everyone out there's out to disappoint and piss me off. And coupled with my rotten temper, it's just deadly. I'm a self-absorbed mofo.

I also notice that whenever I'm in a lousy mood, those who're closest to me get the most shit. Besides my boyfriend, my sister is the other unfortunate one who constantly experience my pent-up wrath. I feel terrible. Really terrible and this post-tantrum guilt simply spirals downward and turns into a vicious cycle cos I get even more frustrated with myself for losing it. Then yesterday, I cracked and couldn't stop sobbing cos I'm sick of the way I am and I simply can no longer stand myself.

I'm come to realize that those who're closest to me get the most shit cos I have what I called the "Princess Syndrome". I feel lousy, I feel down and I expect them to make me feel okay. Say those magic words, do that special thing and I'll be okay. Well, too bad, it doesn't happen that way. Like with my boyfriend, he is probably the highlight of my day and becos of the fact that I feel so lousy before, I expect this highlight of my day to be the remedy for my predicament. And when things don't go the way I expect it to go, I blow up.

I feel very bad. Really bad cos suddenly I feel that I'm not being responsible for myself. I'm making the people I love repsonsible for me instead. In a way, I'm letting myself go with the excuse that "But I'm depressed!!". What's worse is, I get unreasonable and throw tantrums at them and end up upsetting those who're important to me. I really can't feel any worse and I find it hard to forgive myself for such childish and irresponsible behavior....sigh....I dunno how to make it up to them now and definitely hope that I haven't done any irresversible damage. I'm also angry at myself that I never seem to learn. This really isn't the first time stuff like this happened. It's happened in the past and I told myself not to repeat the same mistake but I still do every time! This sucks!

I really just want these bad vibes to go away...I just hope this gloomy clouds above my head will go away and I'll be back to my stupid goofy happy self....cue in the shrink please!!!! I need happy pills!!!

Saturday, June 18, 2005

Hormonal Dsyfunction

I'm fucking grouchy. Very very grouchy. Excruciatingly grouchy. Thanks to my pending period, I'm now experiencing one of the worst PMS ever. Explosive, implosive, edgy, cranky, sexually frustrated, violent, moody, angry....I'm just one fucking grouchy mofo.

It's so unfair cos shit like this changes your mood for the worse, saps you of your sense of well-being and suddenly you feel like hissing at everyone around you.

With the gazillion amount of money they're investing on medical R&D, how come there still isn't a fool-proof, sure-work magic pill that makes your countdown days to getting bleeding genital a much easier thing?? Wait a minute...I think that pill I'm refering to might exist but happens to be illegal. Oh well...

Normally, being a pill-popper, I'll stuff a table of Xanas down my mouth to calm me down a little or head right to the hot shower. But I'm stuck at a cold sterile office now so hot shower's definitely out and my Xanas has failed me cos after popping one in the morning, I still feel like punching Jabba The Hutt until she turns blue. Thus, explaining the previous disgusting "let's-put-dead-body-in-a-meat-grinder" entry.

Sometimes it also makes me wonder, what the hell is sense of well-being and happiness when it's all reduced to some fucking chemicals buzzing in your brain?? I hate to think of things that way cos it cheapens every pleasant experience we get, cos well, it's just fucking chemicals in your brain. Then again, I'm now a freaking uncontrollable PMS monster. I know it might sound strange but this is one of those times that I wish someone would come right up to me and pick a fight. A real physical fight ala WWE style and I'll do a Hillary Swank in the Million Dollar Baby punch cos then, I'll have a legitimate reason to bash someone up in the name of self-defense and vent out all my hormonal frustration.

Aaarrrggghhh.....I just want my sense of well-being back!!!!!

Best Way to Dispose A Dead Body

Phoaw...some chick got murdered while having her body chopped up into pieces, stuffed into carton boxes and thrown into the Kallang River ala CSI style yesterday!

Sheer bad luck for the poor cleaner dude who discovered the body cos according to the papers, he said her flesh looked like fresh meat as if she's still alive (Okay, I don't quite get how he could use that to describe a mutilated corpse but whatever) and he could see that her knee bones are really white.

The thing that got me thinking is that how come the killer is so freaking dumb??? Either he has the intellect of a fruit fly or he has the intention to somehow end up in jail cos he didn't even bother tying some weight to sink the chopped-up body.

Come on, disposing a corpse down the river is the worst way of dunking a dead body cos the water current will somehow bring the dead body back. I remember watching the first episode of Nip/Tuck whereby the two surgeons were trying to dispose the dead body of a liposuction hazard. The method was pretty awesome in a sense that it's dark and twisted. The kind of black humor you see in The Addam's Family.

They went to the supermarket and bought like a dozen of chunky honey baked ham, tied it to the dead corpse and dump the dead meat and ham at the local swamp where an alligator lurked. The alligator sensed the smell of the ham, charged at both the ham and dead corpse, corpse got chomped down and problem solved.

But then we haven't got any swamp and the closest we get to an alligator (except for those in the crocodile farm that is) is perhaps its distant, much tamer and less hungry cousin aka the Monitor Lizards that lurks in local drain and commonly seen at Marina. So how like that??

To effectively dispose a corpse with minimal risk of getting caught for murder, I would highly recommend using an industrial meat grinder that will grind down the bones as well. You just gotta chop up the dead shit into many smaller chunks so they'll fit into the grinder, then you run the dead meat into the grinder and turn it into minced human meat and Viola! No more finger prints, no more dental record and people just probably think that it's simply minced pork or something....I think it even beats the "chop up the dead corpse and cook into curry" trick that happened back in 1984.

The only tricky bit here is perhaps to get the meat grinder but I guess making friends with the local abatoirs guys might help....

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

What the hell is WRONG with Airpork?

Have you seen the latest Airpork advertisement on TV?? I watched it on TV mobile on my way to work on a bus and got rather traumatized by the content!

There're two pigs talking to each other. One telling the other to hurry up so they can run off to the Airpork farm cos life is good in the Airpork farm. Then both of them make a beeline for the alledgedly good life that the bloody Airpork farm promises.

Now how warp is that??? Last check, I don't think I associate being forced fed, jabbed with hormones/antibiotics, or cramped up in tiny sordid quarters just to finally get brutally slaughtered while having your flesh sent to the supermarket or ham factory as living a good life! That's as good a life as the Nazi concentration camp offered I reckon.

Okay, fine. Some people (especially the Chinese) use the phrase "You're stoopid like a pig!" to insult someone's intelligence but I guess the producers of this dumb advertisement really have the intelligence quotience lower than that of a pig to think that a pig trying to escape its bacon fate would run off to yet another pig farm just to get slaughtered.

Then what's wrong with these advertisement producers by making the pigs look cute when they're fucking selling pork??? They don't feel bad eating the freshly flown in Airpork after looking at how the chubby four-leggeds get conned into thinking that Airpork farm is paradise?

It's really sickening....Just as another friend who just brought up the fact that KFC uses a chicken as mascot. Now, that's another twisted rendition of human reality.

It's like the chicken mascot will sing and dance in front of you with the jingle in the background saying "Yo, kids, come log off my arms and fried them into yummy chicken wings as they're super duper snacks! Come on, cut off my arms and come eat my own kind! It's great!!!"

Now is that demented or what?? It really gives me the creeps.....

The Lexicon of B

Someone just asked me how come I signed off as "B" and don't use my actual name.

Well, dearie, when you have a name that even your own folks have problem pronouncing, you're better off reducing it to a single alphabet so that it has almost near zero chance of getting it enunciated wrongly (unless, of course you have Dyslexia).

Seriously, I haven't a single clue why my dad gave me the weirdo name "Bertha". Come on, it fucking sounds fat. Other than a strong association to a particular Callyway golf club that supposedly is big and never miss a fucking ball, the name "Bertha" epitomizes big fat 6-foot tall German mama with a moustache. It's also a name commonly used on mean, old and crusty character in many fiction books. I think there's a mean Aunt Bertha in Harry Potter if my memory didn't fail me.

Lousy associations aside, it can't be more annoying when I hear it getting mispronounced all the time. So I give up. Just fucking call me B and here's a list of how my name's being mis-pronounced:

  • Ber-fa (that's how my name is commonly pronounced when I was living in Hong Kong, the hongkie seems to have problem pronouncing -th-)
  • Ber-ta (now here's the common singaporean version, like the hongkie, singaporeans can't do the -th- well either cos they say stuff like "Oh I tink I'm very tirsty")
  • Berf-ta (I'm not naming names but it's a Singaporean who was attempting to do the -th- in my name right...sigh)
  • Bar-sa-san (courtesy of the many Japanese pricks I used to work with)
  • Be-arh-taaaahh (Trust the french to screw up names with a German root, it's as disgusting as foie gras)
  • Bata (as in the lousy shoe shop that most people think is the acronym of Buy-And-Throw-Away)
  • Burcha (don't ask me why, but it was written in black and white in an invoice supposedly addressed to me)
  • Batik (yes, as in the indonesian art of making tie-dye's far-fetched I know but I have many ex-colleagues who heard the warehouse guy from my old company called me that *eyeroll*)
  • Bernard (another warehouse person from my previous company...she obviously couldn't pronounce "Bertha" so when she tried to call me on the phone, she went like "Harrow harrow, er er..I'm looking for ber ber, er ber, Bernard ah!")
  • Brenda (Did they not teach spelling properly in school or what???)
  • Ber-tel (there's this short-lived ex-manager of mine who went around mispronouncing everyone's name and my ex-colleague, Rosemarie, was called Roast-Mariah!! Yes, it's "roast" and not rose becos she incidentally also got the habit of adding a "t" with words that ends with an "s" sound so Rose sounds like "roast" when she said it)
  • Boo-tu (some annoying friend who choose to call me this!!!! You know who you are!!! You Goondoo!)

So here you go folks...the lexicon of B....a ridiculous, hilarious and goosebumps inducing one....

Monday, June 13, 2005

Jabba The Hutt Menopausing????

I hate Jabba The Hutt and I think Jabba's entering Menopause.

Well actually I'm not quite refering to the fat green slimy slug who forced a gold bikini on Princess Leia. The one I hate happens to be the planet Earth, real-life, frizzied-hair resemblance who is female in gender, sits across my office room and just as obnoxious and with a backside as big as her Star War counterpart.

Just that the Jabba I know is worse.
She shouted on the phone screaming that I'm a selfish bitch for wanting to go home cos I have the misfortune of having a leaky arsehole situation called Gastric flu that sprays, yes, it sprays, the toilet bowl brown with "scatter bomb" (aka liquid poo) every two hours.

I was the only bitch in the 4-women office cos it's one of those freaky Mondays where everyone fell sick (or are they really? hmmm...). Jabba The Hutt said she's too tired to work and need to take urgent leave to rest her slimy little fat trunk whereas my boss just sort of went AWOL.

I tried to make it to the office cos I know the French assholes from my headquarters are watching and we couldn't afford to leave the office unattended and risk our livers getting pan-fried into perfection, French foie gras style.

But as I tried to stay in the office, the god-damn "scatter bombs" in my guts went berserk, exploding out of my already burning and rotting butthole and my intestines felt as if they're about to rapture anytime. No amount of online game can distract me from my predicament cos I didn't even dare to fart for the fear of misfiring.

I had no choice but to head to the doctor and I sent out SOS message to both Jabba and my boss. Boss said she would come in and cover the afternoon for me and Jabba said I'm a fucking selfish bitch.

Jabba said if I'm well enough to make it to the office, why can't I just stay there to cover for them and how come I'm so selfish to want to go home and make either one of them come back to the office. Well if anyone's to follow that logic, then nobody should head to the hospital if he has a heart attack in the office and he happens to be the only one in the office cos he's supposed to man the office for that day. And pregnant woman who happen to be solo in the office should just give birth in the office if she goes into labor then???!!! Ha...good luck with the umbilical cord!

She said I'm behaving like a spoilt kid for wanting to go home becos I'm sick. Oh but but but...wait a minute....I'm in the office and she's at home...who's saying who's selfish again?????? And correct me if the diarrhea fluid shit has gone the wrong way and spray up my brain and screw up my memory, but did Jabba say she's on leave cos she's JUST TOO TIRED to work????? FYI, I'm fucking tired every morning I get off the bed too!

Jabba Jabba Jabba, I have a legitimate medical certificate from the company's doctor and YOU DON'T!

Oh Jabba Jabba Jabba, how come you volunteer to come back even when you know our boss was already coming back?? Feeling guilty for faking ill???

Seriously, why must unhappy bitches like Jabba The Hutt rub off their bad vibes on others???? What's more despicable is taking a shit at someone who's having a sore butthole that sprays liquid poo.

The only explanation for Jabba's insanity is perhaps that she's entering menopause cos after all, she's in her 40s.....Perhaps I should get her a vibrator, a double headed delux pearl-filled one...or maybe a young teenage boy in golden swimming trunk with a chain attached to his neck might just do the trick too....


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