When cows start getting bad press, it's time to consider all your options. Shall you treat this as a load of bullsh*t and get on with the more important things in life or, shall you allow yourself to be led by the nose by those who don't seem to know any better themselves?
I hate bad press. It gives me the crawlies. I dislike it even more when it involves things I like. Like cows. As some of you would have known by now, I love all things bovine, so the recent spate of bad press involving cows had me sufficiently piqued.
Cows and kovils are like love and marriage; they need each other. The recent spat, however, has nothing to do with either. It's politics of the day that turned everyone into LEMBUs. The only exception here is that, unlike many, I welcome being called one.
As if that wasn't bad enough, now you have some goons prancing about with sharpened bamboo poles in Jakarta, bent on "sapu-ing" Malaysians, and the good Pak Duta (safe in his Kuala Lumpur diplomatic enclave) dismissing it as merely "showing their nationalistic fervour."
Let me tell you that I, for one, have every reason to be afraid of sharpened bamboos because those 'pendet akal' thugs might just decide to forcefully ram their "nationalism", not down my throat, but into my torso. I don't want to bleed for my country this way.
When I think about the 1.8 million Indonesians (legal and accounted for) working and studying in this country, I feel proud for Malaysia. Whatever its shortcomings, this land is a good, kind land; it is a land of hope for so many of my saudara serumpun.
But when I think of the subsequent 1.5 million illegals from the same source, my sense of benevolence dissipated. All I can see is a rising crime rate (numbers recently released by the authorities indicated the highest percentage of crime was indeed from this sector).
So now we are hosting some 3 million of them. Bearing in mind that our population is only 27 million, that's one hell of A LOT. And what do we get in return? Knee-jerk reaction one time too many, that's what.
Remember Manohara? Silver-tongued Mom turned out to be a bigtime swindler and convicted felon on the Interpol list. Pendet? Not our bloody fault. Aren't you listening at all? Go throw those rotten eggs at The Discovery Channel office (wherever that is).
Negara Ku (Terang Bulan)? Rasa Sayang? Wayang Kulit? Angklung? Keroncong? Sure it's from your shores but where do you think we Malays come from? Planet Mars? (We might as well, given today's sentiment and scenario). It only became 'your shores' and 'my shores' because of the dictates of colonialism. We used to be ONE, remember?
Then there's the issue of abused maids. Let's not forget that for every sialan/suay employer in this country, there are 10,000 good ones who treat their maids like family and I personally know a good many of them.
Why don't you talk about those who bring their maids for umrah/haji or those who take them along on their foreign jaunts? Gee, some of us have yet to experience a foreign holiday, and those maids are already on first-name basis with the koalas and the kangaroos, not to mention pretty adept at navigating Bayswater or throwing snowballs in the Alps!
Some time last week, The Star reported a molest case involving a vet. Apparently, a 27 year-old kindergarten teacher brought her sick pet squirrel to the vet somewhere in Ampang. Unfortunately, the teacher got more than what she bargained for.
I don't know where this vet graduated from, but I sure hope it's not from any of our local menara gading (higher educational institution), because if indeed he is an alumnus of one, I would like nothing better than to ram his blooming arse with a gading (tusk) myself.
You see, the vet told the distressed teacher that she should place the poorly squirrel between her breasts for warmth (do they really teach this in vet school?) And she did! (She must be VERY distressed indeed). Then the squirrel got entangled with her bra clip, so our chivalrously hamsap vet plunged his hand right into the bra to help.
The randy SOB then complimented the lady on her figure (and the breasts I'm sure) before sucking her t*ts (I kid you not!). Don't ask me about the squirrel; for all I know, it could very well be nestled in her cleavage still at the time.
To cut a long story short, the woman wrestled free and made her escape but not before hearing the vet telling her that she didn't have to pay for his service (I don't know which one he was referring to, though, the 'warm your pet in your bra" advice or the sucking). She reported the matter to the police.
The vet, in his 50s, has since been arrested. I hope he will be deregistered. At his age he should have known better. Slimeballs like this should never be allowed near any animals (am loathe to imagine him alone in a barn, with an unsuspecting cow...) or humans, especially kids. Pets, almost always, are associated with children and I dread to think of kids at his mercy.
PS: The squirrel died as soon as it was brought home, probably from all the excitement. Poor thing....