Thursday, February 19, 2015

Shafee to Mohd Saiful Bukhari Azlan.lets Love sucks, lets fuck

Nancy said Umno's hatchet man with personal a vendetta.“I would agree we (the Federal government) should not do it too much.“It looks bad (on the government and Shafee).”Nancy said Shafee's speaking engagements might have the reverse effect and “people might sympathise with Anwar” instead Explaining Shafee’s decision to go on the roadshow,The government did not ask him to do it. He is doing it based on requests from UMNO youth
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hai this a Hindu woman i was a Hindu before Dont about Muslim

Shafee described the "foreplay" Mohd Saiful Bukhari Azlan.
Shafee got into graphic details including "pincheing Saiful's nipples".Details of the sex act was never heard in open court. Saiful's testimony on it was given in camera during the trial.
However, Shafee did not distinguish which of the testimony he cited was from open court or in camera.

Shafee is becoming weirder by the minute. Shafee along with 13 UMNO,l for allegedly being part of a ring organising sex parties  for  Umno Youth — orgies — using prostitutes, and subjecting them to rough sex. So far so sex scandal. Having sex with  Umno Youth  is not illegal in Malaysia, nor is taking part in what Shafee calls “libertine” parties, but organising them using prostitutes is, and that’s the crux Shafee lost his temper and claimed he was “fed up” with the focus on his private sex life, and that he wasn’t on trial for “deviant sex”. In short,  admits he attended “libertine” parties, which he defined as parties where men and women came together for sex, but as a married man with a public career, his contends that his attendance — averaging about four a year over three years, is “rare”. Right.  admits he has a preference for rough sex, but refuses to accept he coerced any woman. And he ranted that he had no idea these women were prostitutes, because how could he tell the difference between a naked prostitute and a naked socialite. 

 It made me giggle for a moment then I wondered why  Shafee made that statement so attractive or relatable to him that he actually felt the need to scream it from his chest. For a lot of people sex is just a function, a need to be fulfilled and yet for many it’s synonymous with love. It takes an embittered person to want to only have sex and deliberately do away with all notions of love and to not even entertain the thought of a heart being involved! It’s a common belief that for women love leads to sex and that for men sex leads to love. I find that generalisation itself puzzling, because it either alludes that women fall in love before men do or that men fake being in love to get sex or that women compromise and have sex hoping to get the man to fall in love with them. The fact is that none of it really matters as long as the end result is a happy fulfilling unison, be it just for the sake of sex or because people happen to fall in love. The only sad part is in believing that love sucks. Because it truly doesn’t! Love is a magic ingredient. It makes for healthy relationships and ups the ante in your sex life too. Don’t let the fact you made a few wrong choices get to you. A defeated or cynical attitude doesn’t serve you. A heart may heal in hibernation, but it is meant for loving. Go out there, spread love, find love and experience love.
In today’s volatile politics, it’s best to state upfront that what I am about to say has no connection with what the inquisitive Saheb did. Or the randy Editor rotting in a Panjim jail. This is about the changing nature of sexual politics, the tragic way in which we have destroyed the fragile relationship between the sexes, the fun, frolic and foreplay.
Mars versus Venus was once just another gender joke about the inherent incompatibility between the opposite sexes. Today it sounds astonishingly off colour as the planets spin on their own, lonely orbits. Mars is Mars and Venus is Venus and the way we are going about it, the magic and mystery that once brought them together in mystic confluence may soon disappear, leaving behind a world where all sexual intent will be looked upon with misgiving, doubt or worse.
What’s the real problem? The romance has gone out of our life and with it, the trust that made it so winsome. It’s a bit late, I guess, to join the blame game. History, culture, religion, gender domination, everything has had a role to play in the changing equation of the sexes. The interplay between innocence, delight and dependence that brought two people together for a shared bedroom (and a shared destiny) is no longer what it once was. Popular culture, music and nostalgia still try to sustain it. After all, there are big bucks riding on it. But fear, suspicion, mistrust have taken too large a toll, bringing in its wake an inexplicable violence. Big bucks are riding on that as well.
For every dollar invested in the decadent, old fashioned industries of romance, there are ten invested in the business of fear. Wherever you look, the politics of fear is playing out far more tantalisingly than the playbook of love. Martial art classes for women. Sales of pepper spray cans. Scary laws intended to prevent scarier crimes. On the flip side, you have bestsellers like 50 Shades of Gray that celebrate the deepest sexual fantasies of domination and sexual slavery. The zipless fuck Erica Jong fantasized about in Fear of Flying (brilliantly captured by Bertolucci in Last Tango in Paris) has now been replaced by the crude gang rape.
Solitude is no longer sexy. It’s scary. The stolen kiss is no more a promise of something exciting about to happen. It’s predatory. Pursuing a woman in the hope she will turn around and change the entire course of your life sounds awfully stupid in a world where stalking is now a dodgy crime. And much as our films may still romanticize the sexual hunt, most women don’t see it that way anymore. Not outside the movie theatres. Frolic is at a high risk of extinction. Devdas’ stinging slap, once considered his ultimate gift of love to Paro, could get him 7 years RI today.
The language of love has changed. The grand gesture, the flamboyant flourish, the quick grab, the dangerous flirtation, the violent passion, the desperate love, ablaze with welcoming lights that Nabokov wrote of so eloquently, a mere touch that could ignite an unspoken, unspeakable desire: these have vanished into the dusty archives of history. What we now have are more businesslike, better managed, transactional relationships where people live together in amiable, structured deals, often contractually put together. You read of pre-nups in the West. Here the contract has taken an even more mundane turn. In Mumbai, youngsters contemplate marriage just to get a roof over their heads. Or a Royal Enfield in the parking lot.
Popular culture still tries hard, very hard to keep old fashioned, larger than life romance alive. Rajjo begs Chulbul Pandey to be rough handled when she says (rather endearingly) that she fears his love more than his slap. But for most couples today, a hand raised in love is as bad as a hand raised in mock rage. The matrix of the new age relationship has no space for adventure. The entire lexicon of sex can now be posted on the back of a postage stamp.
Only an ass will risk challenging today’s fragile balance of power. Simple things, very simple things that were once looked upon as charming, the stuff of legend and lore, are now seen as acts of gender hostility. Wooing someone over a glass of bubbly is fraught with risks. Girls are more likely to check for DRDs in their champagne than solitaires. Striking up a conversation with a tall, dark stranger in the bar is perilous. So is hitching a ride. Dirty dancing can earn you your night in a police station. Anything to do with sex, particularly pleasurable sex with an unknown person is risky, very risky today.
The art of flirting is on a ventilator and will not revive till faith returns to resuscitate the magic of our relationships. War games are fine. But the appeal of any extreme sport tires after a while. So do dotty Facebook romances with emoticons thrown in.
So it’s such a refreshing change to see Digvijay Singh at 67 openly flaunt his love for a much younger woman on twitter. Not too many men wear their heart on their sleeve any more. Their sleeves are usually rolled up for work or battle.

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