Our world ends the minute we allow it to.
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Our world ends the minute we allow it to.
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Materialism means living inside a gated bungalow that has
everything except the freedom of a house that has no fence.
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You are of lesser faith if you think that a stack of printed papers
is a representation of your faith or to a larger extent, your God.
Be immersed in his creation and you will find writings of joy all
over his grandeur.
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Men can’t handle emotions well. When men gets emotionally upset,
they become cranky! Like an old worn out record player they pissed
on your ears and pierce your eardrums. Then, they pierce your heart.
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What I like about women is their subtlety. Like a stream they flow
inside of you and fill up every single opening they suspect is likely
going to make obnoxious sounds. What I don’t like about women
is this. After they plugged you in, it is helluva airtight!
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A women’s self-esteem
comes from self-assurance
about their appearance first.
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Sometimes it makes me think that God must have
made me a very strong man otherwise how could
I have survived being devoid of so many things
in life yet capable of wantonly pleasuring myself
with the littlest that I am endowed with?
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Quite often, people doesn’t realize the height
of their joy until they come face to face with
pain.
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Man cannot exist on reasonings alone. But
be affected by every unexpected emotional
impulse infected by women.
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(Version in Hokkien)
Huan Peng Cha Bor Bo Pak Khar
T’ng Snua Cha Bor Bo Cheng Mnua
Huan Peng Cha Bor Bo Tim Eok
T’ng Snua Cha Bor Bo Chiak Lau Hiok
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(Version in English)
The womenfolk of the Southeast doesn’t bind their feet
The womenfolk of China doesn’t wear sarong
The womenfolk of the Southeast doesn’t boil herbal soups
The womenfolk from China doesn’t chew betel leaves..
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About the Proverb/Saying:~.
This traditional Hokkien proverb/saying describes in the most interesting way, the distinct difference between a local Southeast Asian women as opposed to the Chinese Settlers.
The author/owner has compiled for record, a collection of early Hokkien sayings, proverbs, rhymes and ditties to capture the essence and spirit of his hoi polloi, a community originating from the southern province of Fujian, China where individuals climbed aboard bum boats, crossing the South China Sea to settle in faraway lands to escape the brewing civil unrest and a way out from hardship carrying along with them in their journey, nothing except their trademark ponytails and their beliefs, very much rooted in Confucianism. These ditties retell their story and their lifestyle way back then so that the younger generation can gain an insight and foothold to their origin..
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(Version in Hokkien)
Khun Chneh
Khi Lai
Say Thau
Buak Hoon
Tiam Ean Chi
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(Version in English)
Wake up
Get up from bed
Comb one’s hair
Powder the face
Put on the lipstick
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About this rhyme:~
This rhyme is a polite wake up call directed to women in the household who are still slumbering when the sun has risen but it is sometimes used on men to enliven their morning! Generally you could see their grin from behind their dishevelled hair when this rhyme is uttered!
The author/owner has compiled for record, a collection of early Hokkien sayings, proverbs, rhymes and ditties to capture the essence and spirit of his hoi polloi, a community originating from the southern province of Fujian, China where individuals climbed aboard bum boats, crossing the South China Sea to settle in faraway lands to escape the brewing civil unrest and a way out from hardship carrying along with them in their journey, nothing except their trademark ponytails and their beliefs, very much rooted in Confucianism. These ditties retell their story and their lifestyle way back then so that the younger generation can gain an insight and foothold to their origin..
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The 21st century is all about looking good. While women spends
a fortune on their complexion, men wages war with their bulging
tummy!
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Women, are like mangosteens.
Smooth skin, cold, richly hued,
juicy and white on the inside.
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Men, are like durians.
Thick-skinned, thorny, smells,
keeps dropping off trees.
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Race is not a threat to man but religion is. Because religion strikes at the very
heart of what we term as values and believe and how we live, differences in
practices between these believes creates doubts, arguments, intolerance and
therefore disharmony. Faith is a hinder to world harmony. If you were asked
to give up your religion for the sake of world harmony will you do it?
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Woman,
If I cast my hook and sinker
~to where you swim~
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will you open your mouth?
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Probability is the denominator used by mathematicians to
weigh chances but it is those who naively disregard the
science of calculation that strikes it rich in the lotteries.
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Flirting momentarily stops aging and so I suppose it has health
benefits tuning up one’s engine to run that extra mile when
there appears to be already signs of multiple sensory failure.
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Gallant men are no longer as muscled as their ancient
counterparts. To keep them tummy flat is distracting
what used to be top market trend priority.
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Women loves to be admired, complimented and made
a fuss of so blessed are those men who could dance to
that tune without stepping on her diamond-studded
shoes because man is second choice to women when
compared with diamonds..
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Man will eventually be crushed to extinction.
Being weighed down by their own greed and
vanity.
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Women generally prefers older men and older men
generally prefers younger women so why can’t
society stop the whispers and stares?
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Humans are emotion controlled.
Emotions are feelings that
prompt our actions be it good
or bad. All things happen
because of it.
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Marriage: Years 1-5
Each day, cotton candy fluffy marshmallow clouds floating between comments of “I love you” and “You’re beautiful honey”
hubby home from work, healthy dinner served,
glass of $50 wine that is difficult to pronounce so it must be fucking great
Tongue down throat, barely make it to the bed, face in the pillow
deep, penetrating cock inside you like he “fucking means it” love making, so in love his sweat tastes like cupids own saliva
true, fucking, love
smile like a clown as you walk outside to get the mail, waving stupidly at the neighbors with your “the world is mine” look because your life is better, your BMW is newer, your skin is tighter
you still stay up past 11 each night and don’t yet know about Lifetime movies
Years: 6-10
The cotton candy begins to stick to your fingers now, damp from the low hanging clouds circling above
3 kids now and damn you are tired
Hubby still hasn’t responded to your “hope you had a good lunch” text
such a foolish ruse
when you really wanted to text “is she prettier than me, does she taste better than me?”
he sees directly through your less tanned, heavier hanging skin bull shit
it pisses you off, but you stay silent
Dinner, hit start on the microwave and watch the lasagna spin around like a good American,
but don’t get too close, the radiation may fuck with the botulism in your lips
“He used to kiss me all the time,” that voice whispers in your head as you stare at the cheese bubbling over the paper towel you placed on top
But then, a text!!!! Some excitement, a little clit tingle, just like old times
“Don’t forget to walk the dog, don’t want him pissing the rug again,” he typed
Crushed again
Hubby home, eats dinner on the couch watching Fox News and bitching about Mexicans, niggers and why Obama sucks giant donkey dicks
he takes his laptop in the bathroom for another 40 minute shit as you clean up behind him, you dive in to that box of Franzia wine the neighbor brought over for your birthday
you taste the plastic and cardboard grapes, but are indifferent
settle into the couch and watch “Cyber Seduction; His Secret Life”
cry yourself to sleep again
Years: 10-???
Kids don’t listen, hubby has more “meetings” than ever
random text from a 20-something hussy saying that your hubby’s cock tastes old and he’s a fucker, says he won’t leave your wrinkled ass like he keeps promising,
something about the kids or some other lame cheating excuse used a million times before by all the other pussy chasers
you hit “delete”, pretend the text was a mistake as you park your minivan and go in for you ass-bleaching appointment, no tears
next day, different doctor for mysterious soft tissue back injury to get that oxy prescription
at least the pills make the boxed wine taste better
two months since you’ve seen hubby’s dick,
Jesus the lawn guy is beginning to look like Erik Estrada now,
just like an old porno, ask him if he’s thirsty, invite him inside
bad carpet, bad music, face back in the pillow
it doesn’t count if you don’t kiss with tongue,
his sweaty hand on the back of your neck
“So this is what is used to be like,” that voice whispers “So this is what it used to be like.”