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Everything on this blog is copyrighted to Oishii and Moishii. Anyone found reproducing anything we say in this blog without our permission will be shot and tortured in the most gruesome manner imaginable. In addition to that, anyone who reproduce any of our insaneness without our authorization agrees to pay us 6000% of whatever earnings they make from our creative thoughts and screws. (c) Copyright 2003 Oishii and Moishii

Tuesday, February 14, 2006


My proposal 

I disagree. I say we meet at the airport, catch a flight to Istanbul where I go and buy myself a tradition Turkish wedding dress from the scarf guy. We block off 5 streets near Bellboy's hotel and we get married then and there, with 6 days of nonstop partying. We then celebrate our honeymoon by going to Mykonos to have coffee with Johnny when we realise this isn't going to work and we get a divorce so I can get it on with Johnny as a single chick. We catch a flight over to Las Vegas to get married again, this time I'm dressed as Madonna with the cones and Moishii is dressed like Elvis. We hit the tables and gamble our entire fortune away where Moishii is forced to shave his legs/arms/chest, dons a Marilyn Monroe wig and thigh high split skirt and serenades the audience by throwing himself all over the piano. Meanwhile, whilst everyone is sick to their stomache at the toilets, I pick pocket everyone when they have their head in the toilet bowls. We make a quick escape with our goods by setting off the fire alarm.

First stop will be to Spain where Moishii tries to chase the bulls only to figure out that he got the dates wrong and gets pelted by tomatoes instead. Armed with a pan of paella, we make our way to Italy where we have a romatic trip in a gondola in Venice, only to realise that the water stinks, the city is flooded and I'm getting stalked by Tony's cousins. We decide to hijack the gondola, paddle our way out to sea, hitch a ride with a passing cruise ship and end up in Uraguay, where we are stranded without money and with no way to go home. This is when Moishii whips out his drums whilst I bellydance for money.

Armed with cash again, we make our way to France and to the top of the Eiffel tower where I bump into the French guy who tries to grope me again. With one swift kick, I throw him off the Eiffel tower. This is when the cops come and we make our escape with the French guy's credit card to buy a one way ticket to Brazil where we spend the rest of our lives pretending to be reporters in order to get free food and accomodation from the unsuspecting citizens of Brazil.

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