My New Hobby

My New Hobby, originally uploaded by afrazkhan.

My new hobby, secretly taking unflattering pictures of you on public transport and posting them directly to the Webs with my phone.To be fair though (to whome, who knows), I suspect _any_ picture of this, my first victim, would have been unflattering. I'll be rich and famous the day I invent the lying camera.

afraz "bastard" khan

The 90's Called ...

Being on the cutting edge, I've just started using Flickr, and with it, mobile photo blogging. Hello 1999. This is the sort of masterpiece you can expect to be posted here from now on:

Elvis lives!

For the time being, you can get to my Flickr stream here, until I manage to convince Flickr to stop being gay (apparently it is a choice).

afraz "I flick my stream at you" khan

Jeebus!

I found Jesus. He was in Soho, stencilled on a bollard.

Foiled again!

Is there a prize? I mean, I know many people are looking for him, so I figure there must be some sort of prize, right?

Maybe not. Given the way some of the other people who have found him live, maybe there's a penalty.

Would Top Trumps™ Deities be blasphemous? "Perses: Power of Destruction — 100!" . Would that beat Shiva?

They're right, there are a lot of unanswered questions about religion. Let's see if I can't stumble my way through answering a few of them now, whilst simultaneously damning my soul to hades.

Afo Khan's Top Five Religious FAQ:

05: Is there a god?
Easy, yes! In fact there are hundreds! Next.

04: Which god is the true god?
The one that ... doesn't, believe in you? Because it's mystical ... next!

03: If God exists, why does she allow suffering?
It's a bit of a giggle.

02: Given that anything outside of the universe is by definition non-existent, and God would have had to have been outside of the universe when she created it, does God hate gays?
A little.

01: Which religion is right?
Ironically, Sumerian. They're all dead now though.

Remember, I'm fully certified to give out my personal beliefs as fact.

afraz "lake of fire" khan

Withdrawal Causes

N.B. I found this in my blogger account saved as a draft from many moons ago. I'm posting it because I find my obvious unbridled bitterness hilarious. More so because I can't even remember why I was being so horrid.

P.S. Ladies have no fear, I am still available, and sexy.

In the war of sex (and it is a war, if people like Matt Ridley or Robin Baker have any credibility) I've become a conscientious objector. That is to say, I'm withdrawing myself from the game, so that I can stop not being a winner. I figure this is best for all concerned.

Perhaps I'm supremely paranoid in nature, but I do expect the worse in order to lessen the chance of unpleasant surprises. If it smells like sweeties, and it looks like sweeties, and it feels like sweeties, then it's probably a trap. This applies well to womanity. If she's smart, pretty, funny, and generally awesome, did you check to make sure she doesn't have a penis?

You remember that spoilt kid who always used to throw a hissy fit when he lost at football, and said he was going home, taking his ball with him so no one else could play? I'm that kid, and I'm taking both my balls. The only difference is that no one will be begging me to stay — the field is full of balls, shuttle cocks, and all manner of things on offer for females to play with. The market is saturated, bringing value close to zero.

There are options of course, but only in the same way there are options when you have a surprise baby. In the face of fierce competition, you can either find a niche, or fight back with Ultraman like force. The latter is out, since it requires effort, and the former is a no-go because my niche attributes consist of being able to say "I am an umbrella" in Japanese, and a mild aversion to mushrooms, neither of which have much monetary value, which is what females want. So let's see my efforts at the third option, and what my Generic Dating Website Profile would look like ... if I were a shpako:

About me: hahaha, I like you!

About you: must be hots!

Ideal date: teh sexs?

Last book read: how to be hots.

Keywords: sexing, chillaxing, fun, drinking, hanging with my boys, keywords! lol!1!!!!!!!1, sexing

Favourite film: spiderman 10 (coz I'm ahead of the game!)!

Tagline: I like to have fun!

Yes, this is the third option; joining the winning team. Now if I could be that guy without having to go outside and beat myself stupid every five minutes, I would presumably be irresistible to woman, or so the current evidence would suggest.

I actually saw that by the way, the line "I like to have fun". I was wondering about the type of person who hates to have fun.

afraz "of the third moon of Sol" khan

Let Me Help You

I'm not dead, just busy giving bad advice to friends. I wish I could tell you about them, but then they would know too. That's the trouble with keeping a public blog, you can't write anything interesting. Blogs by definition are boring.

Let's tackle the problem by using strained associations and ghastly metaphors, so that the story is mutated beyond what the persons I'm talking about could recognise, whilst still maintaining coherence and meaning. Also, let's never construct a sentence like the previous one again. It was a baddie.

One day, some one called Daniel Braunstein, who could quite frankly be anyone at all and not the very same Daniel Braunstein who you and I know, met a girl called MooMoo (so named for her cow like attributes — prophetic were her parents). MooMoo and Daniel Braunstein "robbed a bank together".

The thing about euphemisms for sex is that they really don't have to make any sense whatsoever. Try putting anything at all in double quotes and see what it sounds like. For the full effect, do the rabbit ears with your fingers whilst saying it and use emphasise like there's no tomorrow. I imagine that's what Jesus did when he said things like "And they "knew" each other". Anyway back to the story which may or may not be true godihopetheyrenevergoingtohearaboutthispost.

After MooMoo knew Daniel Braunstein, she did something not dissimilar to cutting off his manhood and dancing around the appendage whilst Daniel Braunstein writhed in notjoy.

I realise that I must stop the story here since it's becoming wonderfully apparent who I'm really talking about. Obviously it's not Daniel Braunstein, who is so happily attached to Gloria Segreto that he would never cheat on her (on the 9th of November at 12:37 pm). I'm not so stupid as to mention Fanshawe's name in such a delicate post about his exploits.

Hello Fanshawe.

afraz "acrimonious alliteration advocates are always consistent" khan

The Kadir-Buxton Method

Whilst I believe the introduction "There is nothing I can say that could make this any better" is an oft used method for the avoidance of writing anything original when all you want to do is link to something incredible, there really is nothing I can say to accompany this link which would enhance site it will lead you to. However, say things I will.

You will flip back and forth from believing it to be satire, to wishing the sun to unexpectedly super-nova thus swallowing our terrible race and destroying any trace of it's existence (because, it might not be satire).

Decades ago I discovered a cure for mental health problems.

You clearly have not, since you ended up writing that sentence. Allow me to share more from that page;

At this point I would like to explain the difference between a stun and a punch. With the Kadir-Buxton Method, a patient standing on one leg whilst holding a rose would still be standing on one leg and holding a rose when they were cured. With a punch, the patient would be lying prone on the floor, and could well have dropped the rose. And just to add insult to injury, they would still be mentally ill.

He's a firm supporter of the Labour Party, which leads me to suspect that the whole thing is a ruse of the Conservative Party's to discredit the types of people who support Labour.

Thanks to Collwangillion for this one.

afraz "time is a waste of space" khan

Of Rabbits and (Chinese) Men

Like many others, I was sent into a nearly uncontrollable killing frenzy (most likely helped by many years of playing video games) upon discovering that foreigners (the Chinese this time) had decided to protest in China town against the Chinese Communist Party, using such sensationalist tactics as sourcing the death of eighty million Chinese "people" to the C.C.P., on the same day that serious protesters (white people) had organised a protest against a shop opening on Oxford Street which sells clothes with the label of a company that produces pornography. It was an obvious ploy on the part of the Chinese protesters to take away attention from the more noble goal of the Playboy protesters, or the Angels of Justice, as I have dubbed them (just now).

Standing up for the gires.

The photo of that salary man in Tiananmen Square squaring off to a tank is all very impressive, but did you know that "Playboy makes hughgh profits from exploiting woman and gires"? Gires as you may know, is a made up word, and it sickens me to the point where I've actually just vomited up my testicles to hear that it's being exploited. Now I have no testicles, are you happy Playboy?! Those were my things! I needed those. Jesus Christ.

This piece is simply called Idiot With A Briefcase.

I talked to one of the Playboy protesters who told me that she was a teacher, and was concerned that some of the children in her class had pencil cases with the Playboy logo on them. She told me that while these children did not exactly understand Playboy's pornography business, the pencil cases had turned them into raging sluts, willing to do ghastly things to get their next hit of Playboy pencil case. The C.C.P. protesters on the other hand tried to sell me some weep story about how over 100,000 Falun Gong practitioners had been sent to labour camps without trial, and how 2,800 have been tortured to death. I spat in her Playboy-ignorant face.

There were almost a dozen brave soles protesting outside the new Playboy shop, putting their lives, and the lives of their families danger by daring to voice what a minority of the public feel; that porn equals bad. Probably. I was literally foaming at the goddamn mouth when I realised that at the same time the C.C.P. protesters were flouting meaningless figures about how over 9 million people had publicly withdrawn from the C.C.P. as a sign of protest, apparently risking death or some such crap. It's a good thing someone saw the foam and dragged me away from the Chinese protester, because I was about ready to headbutt that idiot in an attempt to beat sense into her via osmosis: "People are buying Playboy branded products woman! Can't your Chinese mind understand that?!".

While I was being dragged away, that crazy C.C.P. protester tried (and in retrospect, I guess succeeded) in telling me that the First Secretary of the Chinese Consulate in Sydney defected in May 2005, citing extreme guilt as the cause. This traitor said that the C.C.P. has over 1000 secret agents in Australia. Now I'm no expert on what's true and what's not true, but it's probably true that Playboy has secret agents too. Sexy secret agents who are far more secret, and agenty than the C.C.P.'s. I imagine the Playboy Gestapo eat children to power their child-powered bodies. Children with Playboy pencil cases maybe? Yes, probably, and therefore, definitely. So I ask you, what's worse; the fact that the C.C.P. has secret agents operating in our free lands, or the possibility of Playboy Gestapo child eaters?

If you want to know more about the Angles of Justice's cause of riotous yesness, then follow this link. If on the other hand you want to be sentenced to eternal damnation on the charge of Playboy Ignorance, then go here, God help you.

afraz "honey bunny" khan