Day 10,164 - Sunday - 22 Asadha 1930 - 09 Rajab 1429 - 13 July 2008

Disclaimer - As the post progresses there is a marked increase in sex, violent and graphical language. Please proceed at your own responsibility and do not proceed if you are not yet 18 years of age.

This is the first time I am using Pages, which the word processing tool available for Apple, to blog. I have to admit that as a new user of Apple I have to divide the world of computer users into three categories.

The first category is of the users who need to use the computer’s software to the maximum. They need to code in C++ and check if the code works. They need to be incredibly boring on the dinner table, because I don’t want to fucking know that you were able to shorten the code to four lines and now it is using less memory as well as processing power. I have spent four years of my life learning to fucking be an IT guy, and I don’t want to spend one more day at it. Thank you very much.

This category of users will be called the Software utilizers. They need to have a custom built computer with Linux installed on it.

The second category is of the users who need to use the computer’s hardware to the maximum. They need to process video files whilst they play graphics rich computer games. They need to be incredibly boring on the dinner table, because I don’t want to fucking know that you were able to fight off three Zerg rushes before you eventually raided the Zerg camp and destroyed them while the rest of your team could not help you. I have spent years of my life gaming, and I just cannot stand another conversation revolving around computer games any more.

This category of users will be called the Hardware utilizers. They need to have a PC with some version of windows installed on it.

The third category is of the users who need to use the computer’s ability to go basic tasks. They need to check their email, while they listen to music and have a movie on hold in the background. They need to be incredibly boring on the dinner table, because I don’t want to fucking know that you actually learnt that whales are mammals and that your IQ has increased to 70 points. I have spent years of my life dealing with insipid narcissists who have a severe brain deficiencies and I do not want to listen to conversations which push me down the IQ ladder any more.

This category of users will be called the Computer utilizers. They need to have a Mac.

It’s all right. I am not a bad person. I am just vicious and bitter. Also, if I don’t get a whole lot of sex soon, I will be vicious, bitter and perverse. There. Oh, oh, but I am a bed person. I love being in bed. With or without other people.

Wow. If any one of you out there is a psychiatrist, psychologist or just able to assess people, and specifically if you are hot men who will be able to give me love, can you please not email me to tell me that you are insane.

Oh, and yes, whichever one of you searched for “Amazing Gay Sex Karachi” on Google and landed on my blog. Email me now! I need some of that too.

And, I think that if you are a guy, you are not allowed to say fabulous or worst yet - fab. You are not. You are just so not.

See, see, this is what happens. This is what happens to otherwise slightly insane people (read me) when they do not get sex for a very long time. They go stark raving mad! Like me now! Oh My God! I cannot believe I am blogging like this. This is like a fucking scary telephone call when you just cannot hang up because you are stuck in a fucking vicious circle of lies, deceit and self birthing faux pas!

Before I say more. I beg to take to your leave. Good evening and enjoy yourselves. And if you happen to have some good porn quality sex, please do write to me in detail. That seems to be the only sexual intercourse that I will be having in some time.

Day 10,164 - Sunday - 22 Asadha 1930 - 09 Rajab 1429 - 13 July 2008

The problem with meeting too many people for eventual sexual purposes is that one gets to listen to too many things that one does not want to listen to.

I, for one, have had the pleasure of being rejected too many times for the reasons that I am fat, that I am ugly and that I have a small dick in the past two weeks that it is not even humorous any more, rather it is concerning and depressing. With all these faults, I can only thank God that I did indeed get all the sex that I have gotten to date.

Thank you Lord for the sex that you provide.

And yes, I am blogging from my new MacBook. Very very difficult shifting from Windows/PC to X/Mac. But amazing. Will start blogging more often from here.

Day 10,153 - Wednesday - 11 Asadha 1930 - 27 Jamadi us Sani 1429 - 02 July 2008

Another sexually graphic email also pertaining to homosexuality. Please ignore if this thing makes you uncomfortable and if you are not 18 yet.

I was going on a blind pre fuck screening date thing with this guy in the afternoon. And he turned out to be an absolute moron. While I was sitting there, listening to him go on and on about how good he is in bed, I was thinking about the following. If my average IQ is 167 and my weight is 90kgs. And I get to sleep with him. And his weight is 80kgs. And his IQ is obviously less than 10. Than the average iq of the fuck session on my bed would be lower than 90. I just can not put my bed up for ridicule and damnation is such a situation. So, guys, if you IQ is below 33. We are not having sex.

Sorry.

And, I really do not like Sex and the City. Does this mean I am gay? Or not?

Oh and yes, noone is allowed to have romantic/psychological/emotional issues before vital organs are touched. If I havent touched your penis, kissed your lips or played with you ass yet, you can not call me up and tell me that I am not giving you all the time that you need.

Day 10,152 - Tuesday - 10 Asadha 1930 - 26 Jamadi us Sani 1429 - 01 July 2008

Being a gay guy in Pakistan means a lot of things. One of them means that one has to go the extra mile to find other people. Since I am very bad at keeping friendships / acquaintances intact in the gay circle I need to find new people online all the time. There is a very small group of gay people, about four or five, who I am in regular contact with, and recently they have even set me up with a couple of guys. But, suffice to say, the internet is the primary medium of finding sex, lust, affection and love in my life. Could things be geekier. No. Could thing be wierder in the Pakistani environment. Yes. Thankfully for me. Despite be delightfully insane I am only marginally lower than the national average. Good for social life, bad for overly sensitive self elevating ego.

Of course there are so many absolutely interesting things emanating from the whole concept of internet based dating that I would be exceedingly cruel, stupid and boring not to recount some of my favourites.

Of course the most interesting of all is the details. In order of appearance these are; the first question asl (age sex location); the second tbvo (top bottom versatile oral); and the third stats (general idea of visual appearance). Then there is some descriptive discussion and eventually there is the exchanging of the name and email and phone number. Now, the rule is, you can lie about your name (only if you in the closet). That is it. You can not lie about any of the other details. If you are 6′0 high, then you can not tell me 6′2 because when I meet you I am going to fucking see through that. You fucking imbecile. You can not fucking lie about direct physical appearance cues. Moron! So, I get this guy today, he tells me he is 28. Then after we decide on where and when to meet, he asks me “what is your real age?”. I tell him “It is the same as the fake age I gave above, what is your real age?”. It was 30. Idiot. I decided not to suck his dick in the next 20 minutes when we were supposed to get together. And of course, the same goes for penis size. Dude, if it is 6 inches I will know. Dont tell me it is 7.5 inches. Or I will leave you hard and dry, in bed, like I did another jerk. I mean, fucking idiots. Do they think everyone else is blind. And of course the lying only makes it worst when you are discovered.

So, people out there. Please do not lie about things. Because when you do get someone interested in you. It will be worthwhile. And the sex will be, oh so much better!

There was this guy I met a couple of days earlier. Nothing. So, I decided to send him an sms stating, “Dude, lets just not continue this. It would never have worked out in any way”. I get a reply, “Who is this?”. To which, after much relief I replied, “Good. Done!”. And as simply as that, the whole thing is over. I love language.

Oh, Oh, Oh! I met this married guy online. According to him, he is a pure top. Question - What the fuck is a pure top? Is it a bottle headed moron who can not understand that sex is about pleasure? I dont care about the answer, I am fucking him anyways. Also, according to him, he takes a very long time, so I need to be ready to suck for a very long time. Very good. More dick for me! Moron dick that is.

As a matter on enquiry, to ask what my other friends, gay friends, think of the situation. I asked them if it was ok to sleep with a married guy. So, six out of six friends recently polled were of the opinion that it is perfectly ok. There were two basic opinions. The first one was that the management of his marriage and relationships is his problem and his issue and does not concern me. The second one was that married guys are amazing in bed and hence must be allowed to conduct their handywork. Good!

Day 10,148 - Friday - 06 Asadha 1930 - 22 Jamadi us Sani 1429 - 27 June 2008

I was watching TV and about half an hour ago there appeared on screen a woman who had huge and beautiful breasts. And I mean, perfectly semi circular(spherical), large, ample, supple and absolutely amazing. I would like to apologize to all of my str8 friends for not finding out her name so that all of you could also have enjoyed checking her out online. But sorry. Instead of trying to bring beauty into your lives, I was thinking about what she would look like if she had bitch boobies. I have just concocted the term Bitch Boobies. That is boobies like a bitch. Multiple boobies. I was visualizing the chick with about six boobies. All over her chest and stomach. I think this prooves that I do have the ability to think ever so differently from the rest of my race. But, I think with six boobies, all the more for you boys! Carmen Electra; enjoy?!

I was watching a very song released by Shiraz Uppal. And, despite knowing that you will all judge me and hate me for saying something so seriously disturbingly shocking. But, I think he is very very very hot. And since I do have quite a bit of command over the English Language I will refrain from converting my train of thoughs and consciousness when I saw him to words on this blog. It just might be too much for my readers. And my own conscience when I read it later on

Day 10,145 - Tuesday - 03 Asadha 1930 - 19 Jamadi us Sani 1429 - 24 June 2008

So, I seem to have found an amazing place to eat at. Bread People. Absolutely amazing eggs. I would have to say that they have the best eggs in Karachi. Of course this does not include the rapidly ageing eggs of my friend RW who says that she has the best eggs in Karachi. Despite being exceptionally opinionated and judgemental, the only reason why I choose to say this exceptionally diplomatic thing this is to avoid the inevitable post blogging argument with her. Back to non human eggs. Bread People on Khayaban e Ittihad is absolutely good at making eggs.

I went with friends and decided to try their chili omelette. For all of you reading this, the basic requirement of your life should be to try this as soon as possible because it is the most delectable item on the face of the planet and you will love me all the more for this. Coming back to non human eggs I ordered lemon slush with the chili omelette.

Amazing combination.

Ten minutes into the egg. I decided that I need something cold to brush away the chili flavour. Like any normal human being, which usually I am not, I took a large swig of the slush. I was already suffereing with my mouth burning due to the chili. And I started feeling it. It was coming on. I knew that it was going to happen. And I couldnt do anything. I had to try to stop it. But I could feel is grow slowly and gradually, it started from my ear lobes and spread to my head. Brain freeze. It took two seconds, but to me it felt like an age.

Shocked, battered and reeling I decided to eat something hot immediately. To mitigate the effects of the oncoming brain freeze. I took two large bites of the chili omelette. Fuck. Too spicy. My tongue was killing me because it was so fucking spicy. Like any brain dead imbecilic human being, I took another slug of the lemon slush. Fuck. Too cold. Another jet of brain freeze.

Chili Omelette. Lemon Slush. Chili Omelette. Lemon Slush. Fuck. Fuck me! Why the fuck do I act like a fucking brain dead automaton when I have a brain, the ability to use it, and the ability to understand that I need to stop this spiralling vicious circle of pain and stupidity. But it didnt work out that way.

I am such a fucking idiot. Who in their right mind would do the same thing. No one. So Ladies and Gentlemen, I take a bow. For I am Jalal.

Day 10,142 - Saturday - 31 Jyaistha 1930 - 16 Jamadi us Sani 1429 - 21 June 2008

Still suffering from a long bout of writers block. I apologize for not adding all the usual colour and flavour to your lives. I have a lot to tell; rest assured. Hopefully tomorrow.

As for now. I am typing a quick post from BH’s very small, compact and weirdly quirky laptop.

It’s very interesting blogging from another PC.

Oh, and yes,  I gave BH my blog addy. She went through it, took special exception to her and her husband being called loosers in a previous post. So, I will set the record straight. BH, you are your husband are not loosers. You are a very interesting couple. The most interesting in the world. There. I said it. Are you happy now? What more do you guys want from me! Why is it never enough. Enough with the theatrics Jalal! Good! So, BH, is this ok?

Day 10,130 - Monday - 19 Jyaistha 1930 - 04 Jamadi us Sani 1429 - 09 June 2008

I hate my boss. Dont get me wrong. He is a good guy. He is a good professional. He is a good human being. And he is incredibly irritating. Basically, he is human and that should be enough. But it hardly ever is. Noone wants asshole boss. Some might accept boss. But we all want super boss. Well, they dont exist. At least not in my realm of reality. If you do happen to come across one, please call me immediately, so I can start working with him/her.

Uffffff. The guy repeated the same thing six times today. How the fuck do I know? Why the fuck do I know this for sure? Because I counted. And why in fucks name would I do that??? Because he does repeat a lot and I actually counted.

Why do I get a feeling that I seriously need a life?

In addition to all this excessive talking, I am beginning to realize that I have some version or form of dyslexia. I was reading the previous post and there are times where I have typed the absolutely wrong word. Of instead of Right. And Gone instead of London. And other such things. I do that. I never correct it because I think that is self censorship and that it murders the concept of stream of consciousness.

Wow. Fuck. I guess I can already see a dyslexic mistake.

Now, should I go to a shrink or what?

A a a a a a r r r r r r r r r g g g g g g g g h h h h h h h h h h h h h.

Day 10,126 - Thursday - 15 Jyaistha 1930 - 30 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 - 05 June 2008

The world is much much larger than me and my friend AI wanted, or would have liked, it to be today. We want to go for a week long break somewhere. Anywhere. So, like all hot blooded, brain dead idiots we decided to talk to our different travel agents. Mine in Karachi. His in Dubai. And like the innocent vulture spawn that travel agents are, they decided to fleece us of all our money and then slaughter us and finally sell us for parts. I had a list of 29 locations, AI had a list of 12 locations and all in all we had a list of 36 location that we can go to. Decisions are difficult with so much choice. So we narrowed it down to Istanbul, Sri Lanka and Maldives. Lets see what AI says tomorrow. I want to go to Istanbul.

Amongst the three, the only explanation that I can give for going to Istanbul is, for want of a better word - Phallic. Yes, like all other men out there, I too think with my dick. As is the case. And as it should be. And as I like my men. Women do not like it. They do not agree with it. But, for men, there is one thing. Breeding. And that is it. So Sri Lankans and Maldivans dont do it as much for me as Turks. And as Turkey is open Homosexually and there are clubs and stuff. I am getting too far ahead of myself. Of course, the one week will be a drunken haze of walking through bazaars, going to clubs of the “G” kind as my friend A from Lahore likes to call it, and of course enjoying the beautiful city.

Oh and yes, whichever one of you readers was searching for “gay love in karachi” and landed on my blog. Please, please, please, send me an email. Now.

Day 10,125 - Wednesday - 14 Jyaistah 1930 - 29 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 - 04 June 2008

Saturday night, a large group of losers, me and my friend HS and his wife decide to go for food on the highway. Mind you, Saturday night. The rest of the world is getting drunk and then having meaningless lovemaking on banana leafs and persian carpets. And we are going for food to the other end of my known universe. After travelling through disgusting traffic, we reached the desired location. Fed on inordinate amounts of fatty, fried, meaty delights. And, to our most utter surprise, on our return journey, decided to take the Liari Expressway, and were home in less than half an hour.

I would have to say that after eating for three people, returning home at midnight, sleepy as mary-fucking-hellish-poppins it was an absolutely amazing surprise to cut half an hour of traffic from our drive. I would rate it at 0.789302 orgasms.

Oh, and despite the exercise (I ran 2.7 Kms today) I dont see any drastic changes. The patrician signage of the extended stomach is there. My butt is still large and squashy. And of course, I realized today, that I have man boobs. I mean fucking shit. If I wore an A sized bra; it would actually do me good. So I guess I will shift to absolutely nothing other than fruit for lunch.

Damnit! I want something to email and tell me he loves me, and meet up with me and make ever sweet love to me whilst respecting me as a person and loving me back. WELL!!! And in case you are reading this (stupidest fucking brainless logically devoid question to ask) and you are not that guy, please set me up with a friend of yours.

Thank you, and good bye. From yours trule, psychotics united.