Let’s imagine about a girl named FeiHai. A typical Chinese educated girl she is, you know, the type that reads too much romance novels and giggles at rats thinking that they’re as cute as squirrels… and doesn’t pluck her armpit hair at all (but would pluck every single strand of her brows…)

Because she’s on a high fix of romance novels, she’s also emotionally unstable. Like once a while, she would whack buckets of ice cream in tears as a let out whenever she faces a relationship failure. (relationship failure to her = the hero in her favourite Korean soap opera had a freak accident in the bathroom and got himself killed).

Whatever she does in her life, it would turn out to be a failure. Like failing to pronounce the word “Carrefour” properly (which she would pronounce as “carry four”). Like failing to try not to fail too many subjects in school. And the most frustrating of them all, to fail her driving tests again and again - which she somehow thought must be due to her recent breakup with Victor. (*Victor is a very famous boy band member who doesn’t even know her at all). She would blame it on her lack of sleep … and the shock effect of her artificially crayon brows on the driving test instructor… basically everything but her own self.

She would then whack even more buckets of ice cream because of that, and eventually wake up one day thinking of what Jay Chou had taught countless of queer looking skinny lowlives how to get a life (like listening more of his StreetFighter Chinese language rap songs). Her sudden epiphany would instigate her to realize that she needed to change… like learning how not to cry so often and try to use her brain behind the steering wheel.

With the spirit of her yellow stained Hello Kitty soft toy, she would relentlessly try and try and try to pass her driving test. She would fail for another 30 over times before her effort finally pays off… and Feihai would finally get her driving license.

****

Frankly speaking guys, do you think it’s a good idea to let such an inept person like FeiHai to roam freely on our roads behind a killing machine of hers? I don’t think so.

She frigging failed for like 30 over times, but would still get a driving license out of only 1 pass. That’s fucking ridiculous if you were to ask me. I mean, what are the chances of her not killing anyone on the road? If you can do the math, assume that she tries not run over a herd of 31 cows that was crossing the road … and crashed 30 times out of 31 attempts to avert each of them. Do you think she’d still have the life to read more romance novels?

And these driving tests aren’t like those written exams we had in school. They’re more like tests with complete answers - and everyone had the advantage of getting themselves prepared for it. Yet these dimwits would fail again and again. Obviously, they’re not meant to drive - just like some who would crank a monotonous moo when asked to sing. Tonedeaf.

But because it is a necessity to be able to drive legally with a motorized vehicle, it is often the case the authorities would overlook the need of barring these calamitous motherfuckers from making the road a more dangerous place to commute. And we kept wondering why are there so many accidents that kill literally thousands everyday …

I’d say we scrap the current driving test system. If we want competent drivers on the road, we should stringent the criteria for getting a driving license. Like requiring a degree for driving … you know, just like any majors in tertiary education. You must have a degree to drive a car or face death penalty… something like that.

Those who fails their driving test modules (for the degree), would be barred from taking more driving courses for the next 5 years to support the public transport. This would indirectly profit the government and the money can be put for a better use like funding stem cell research so that we could clone organic real tits instead of relying on silicon bags…

And many more advantages… It’s a stone that kills many birds. I wonder why nobody thought about this…

I was driving to pick my grandpa up on Friday, when I noticed a couple of doggies by the roadside. Nice doggies. Not some fanciful exotic doggies but I can tell that those are mutts crossbred out of a million species. There was this big white one … and another smaller one shit brown in colour.

From afar (about 15 yards), it seemed as if the 2 canines are marching together in unison (that’s how it prompted my attention), which looked kinda cute at that moment. But as my car inches closer towards the doggies along that stretch of narrow neighbourhood lane, suddenly the brown dog leapt up onto the rear of the white dog… apparently in a position to mount itself for a round of spontaneous street sex.

But because that brown dog was very much smaller that its female partner, it proved to be a real challenge for him to get his plug to align into the socket. He was literally clinging onto the back of that white dog with it’s frontal paws, with both it’s hind legs dangling in the air like he’s doing some extreme rock climbing labour.

It was a sight to behold… and I broke into tears laughing at that poor little dude that seemed to have big issue in selecting his sex partners. Then it comes to this stage where my car was directly passing the ground zero, little dog still working out to get a fuck on his bitch - with little progress of course.

That was when I decided to help him out by giving them a yank of my air horn. The effect was instantaneous. My honk jolted that brown dog and made him shot through the air like his dick’s on fire or something. I almost had a fit for laughing too hard upon seeing that whole thing unfolding before my eyes.

But what happened next was kinda out of my expectation. The brown dog actually went ballistic and charged towards my moving wheels. From what I saw through my sideview mirrors, it appeared that the dog was trying to sink its teeth on my tyres to predicate his aggression or something. But we all know that it’s a dumb idea. He ended up getting chafed on his muzzle by the moving tyres and eventually stood in the middle of the road watching the big bad black car disappearing before him.

I’m proud of my pair of air horns.

This is a story about Emily’s colleague. Let’s call her ‘HotChick’ for convenience’ sake.

One day, HotChick was wearing this really tight pants to the office (for some unfathomable reasons). It all went well for her almost the whole morning, until she heard something very disturbing from behind her tushy when she squatted to open a file cabinet. It was that dreadful noise of some fabric being forcefully torn apart.

Bracing herself for the worst, she checked her ass out and sure enough, her tight pants had split vertically right in the middle of her crack exposing her underwear. Panic quickly sets in and she immediately covered herself up. It couldn’t have been worse, as she stood right in the middle of the office frantically searching for whatever that can get her out of that predicament. It was one heck of a situation for her.

But fortunately, unlike any blur and clueless chick that we used to mock at, she managed to figure out something that I reckoned nobody could have thought of at that moment. No, not even MacGyver. She decided to STAPLE her torn pants up.

Grabbing the stapler from her office desk, she bolted off to the toilet and locked herself inside one of the booth to begin her stapling work. I do not know exactly how she did it … as this was actually relived by Emily. But I can imagine her stapling the fissure up like what the Frankenstein monster had on it’s neck.

It temporary worked for her alright. She schlepped slowly back to her office desk and settled down to continue her work;, while waiting for her lunch hour to get herself another pair of pants at the nearby mall. But because her caboose are kinda awesome, the staples didn’t hold for long.

Slowly, they would pop off one by one … until her moon was full all over again. She dealt with it by scooting for another trip to the toilet with her stapler and redid the entire stapling job. With her Frankenstein pants, she went back to the office to continue her job … only this time, she dared not to sit on her chair anymore, for fear those staples might pop again.

So, poor HotChick kinda stood all the way through the period until lunch and bailed the office to grab herself a pair of jeans. Thanks to her handy piece of stapler, she lived through the lurid near death episode of misadventure in the office…

This story is brought to you by Astroglide and the letter ‘S’.

cozy (kuh zee)
snug, comfortable and warm.

That’s how I felt after slipping myself a pair of loosely fitted bermudas without anything else inside. All my muscles will automatically switch to the “relaxed mode”. During this period, I couldn’t be bothered even if my pet dog is on fire… (well, that’s because I don’t have any pet dog…)

During this stage, I will be very passive… sometimes, even hibernate at odd hours. eg. dinner time. Even if I’m not doing that, the most calorie consuming activity I would do is probably pressing the remote control. Or feed my pet dog (wink).

But I have a problem. My wife Emily, she doesn’t seem to condone that concept at all. She doesn’t believe in the fact that I’m a peace loving person and being static is a good thing. That’s when she thinks that I’d better do something she presume as “more productive”, like taking a bath.

That’s right. She has this fetish of dictating me towards the bathroom to clean myself up. I don’t know why. Not that I’m dirty or something but… just to gratify her twisted eccentric mind.

Like if I’m caught looting a piece of cuttlefish snack ? she would ask me to go bathe myself up … because my hands are contaminated.
If I ever step outside the house (even if it’s just downstairs collecting something from the car)? to bathe myself up I must go.
If I ever defecate during this period ? Bathe I must.
Purge a bead of sweat ? Bathe I must.
Neighbour’s cat barks ? Bathe I must.
A female lizard hits the G spot in a stray sex with another lizard ? Bathe I must.

I don’t know but this is really bothering me. The same thing happened yesterday when we’re on our way home from dinner …

Emily : “Dear, remember to take your bath after we got back home”

Me : “What ? I’ve just taken my bath not long ago… What’s the matter with you ?”

Emily : “That’s because you were exposed to the rain just now …”

Me : “Awwww… you’re being ridiculous. I ain’t gonna take anymore bath. It’s a waste of money and detergent.”

Emily : “It’s insignificant with that wee tot amount of detergent. Don’t be silly.”

Me : “Look, it’s not really about the money, ok ? It’s actually more about the environment…”

Emily : “Oh yeah ? Like how ?”

Me : “Like some turtle’s gonna suck in the detergent and chemicals I use in my bath … and die…”

But no amount of protest would deter her adamant course of requiring me to take a goddamn bath… that’s because she’ll always win the debate no matter what. You know, women … they hold high stakes in the family. It’s always not a very wise idea to mess around with them, lest they would plan something sinister against your life … like refusing to pass you the remote control or do your laundry.

It’s a corrupted world without justice …

I was having my lunch with Emily inside a restaurant yesterday, when something prompted for our attention outside the glass pane. It was a couple standing beside a confectionery, apparently with the girl looking very mad and the guy was trying patch things up.

As we’re being barricaded by the glass pane, I couldn’t make what was happening there. But from my best guess, it wasn’t as simple him being caught ogling at some girls. It looked much more serious than that, you know… it’s like he had been caught humping the family goat or something. The girl was fuming.

We could actually see that the guy tried his best sucking up to her, but his mad girlfriend would just glower back at him … and indifferently look away. For a moment there, I felt for that guy. Like he already tried his best to boot back the relationship, but all he got was just a glower … nothing else. What the hell was that suppose to mean ?

If she’s so freaking mad at him, she could have just bolted off to somewhere private (like the toilet) to cool herself down or something. But instead, she would just stand there trying to look mad … but refuse to engage in any attempt of confrontation. Like supposedly, her boyfriend’s able to read her mind !?

If there’s any disagreement at all, it should be handled with the civilized way — bring it out and have some talk. You want something, say it. You don’t act up some attitude. Solve the problem. Not just behave like a cunt and expect your boyfriend to do everything he can to patch things up.

The guy would continue to suck it up that bitch until finally, she whips out her cellphone, called someone and stormed off the area. Probably felt the he wasn’t good enough at sucking up, called her fuck buddy for an emergency sex therapy and spend over the day contemplating whether she needed a replacement.

What a bitch. If I were to be in that guy’s shoes, I probably would have ignored her and invested my time to do something more important instead … like shopping for a loaf of bread or … entertain a cute looking credit card promoter…