Lo-Bang

..is her name. It might sound a little vulgar, but it's me you're talking to after all, okay?

It's not lubang, it's not loobang, it's not even hole.

It's Lo-Bang. Like how you pronounce loh bak. Lo-Bang.

When the lo forms and creeps out of the confines of your mouth, your lips should form an O, a perfect sphincter, like you're puckering up to suckle on your mama's tit.

Marvin calls his Belle, Chin Kian calls his.. uh.. I dunno. I think he calls his baby.

I call mine Lo-bang! Don't you forget it now. I'd think I'd have hammered it in by now.



My favourite angle. Note the muscular flanks. She might be a girl, but she's still scary enough to force your testicles to seek refuge in the warm, moist recess that is your buttcrack. If you don't have any testicles, fret not.

Nobody's perfect.

At least got milk. For coffee.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

Right, right. Back to the picture. Pay attention to her flared wheel-arches. Is she not breathtaking? Note how her wheels fill them perfectly, leaving no trace of waste, no remnants of unexploited grip.

And man, look at those tyres. I love looking at her shoes. See the four purposeful longkang/longkau/monsoon drains, perfectly formed to zoom-zoom on fucked-up (wet) Malaysian roads, not forsaking even an iota of grip.

Oh Lo-bang how I love you. How I'd like to play with your exhaust pipes.

Urhm. Urhmm.

I think that's enough, don't you?

I fucked it all up the other night. Kerbed Lo-bang's front right rim. Damn. Puki cibai.



I wouldn't have if there weren't passengers in the car. I'm used to driving alone, so my judgement of ride height is very inflexible. Because there was added weight, the tyres were stressed more, bringing the rim closer to the ground.

It's not like I'm blaming you guys. Fuckers.

Haha.

I have exams in ten days or so. It'll form ten percent of my final grade. My final, final grade.

God help me. Fuck fuck fuck.

This entry was posted by tsh, on Saturday, June 10, 2006. You can bitch back.