A little bird told me that there will be an increase in petrol and diesel price tomorrow…

Alright, alright, that wasn’t any little bird. The news was sourced from the scores of emails that has been hitting my mailbox since this morning (even some rumours days ago). According to my “little avian friend”, petrol price will be hiked 5 cents per liter and diesel at 10 cents.

Whoopin’ big deal. But what can we do ? For me, to just swallow it. But not for many people. For some reason, they think that rushing to the petrol station to get a full tank seems to be a wise idea. Yeah, if the fuel is readily available for you to fill.

But we all know that usually isn’t the case when such news were to circulate around the cyberspace, sms and your mother-in-law’s ring of underground triads. Most likely, you’ll experience a happening party going on at basically every petrol station around the country … and each trip to the petrol station will literally cost you a minimum of 20 - 30 minutes worth of wait.

Well, what’s the point of rushing to the station then ? Saving yourself some bucks ? Ok, let’s do some math then …

Firstly, let’s calculate how much money can you save by that one final refill :
Let’s assume you have a 60 liters capacity tank. Each liter, you save 5 cents. That makes it 3 ringgit for the entire tank. But because we know that it’s not possible to drive there with a completely dry tank, I’d say 50 liters would be a more realistic number. So, the final number should work out to be RM 2.50.

You fucking save RM 2.50 for one full tank. That’s excluding the time and amount of fuel you wasted for the wait.

On top of that, not everyone drives there with an empty tank. That’s because our petrol do not usually dry up spontaneously to make way for us to refill in the event of a price hike. And not mentioning those cars with a relatively smaller fuel tank - like the SLKs (small little kancil/kelisa/kenari’s).

When I passed by a petrol station a couple hours ago, I saw an armada of SLK’s queuing up for their turn to greedily fill themselves some petrol. Probably some housewives storming out from their home in nightgowns for a last full tank refill. It boggles my mind to think, why bother ?

How much are they gonna save ? 1 ringgit ? 2 ringgit ? It doesn’t make sense. (well, unless your junk has a big tank like my buddy’s truck of RM100 refill - which is enough to save him a small pack of cigarette)

Those wee tad of saving can’t even get you a pack of condom. So, what difference is it going to make ? Why don’t you people stay at home and spend that precious 30 minutes with your family members ? That way, you’d spare us don’t-give-a-fuck people some leeway to move around the city with less traffic congestion…

(and I’m gonna get me some petrol when you people are gone…)

I was driving at a reasonable pace inside Carrefour carpark, when I noticed another black car behind me. Driven by a petite Indian chick, she seems to be in a rush. Her car was like 2 inches away from my rear bumper.

Maybe it was an emergency - I thought, and I helped out by slowing down my car to almost a total stop. That kinda made her blood pressure shot up a bit and she took a wheelspin shortcut across the carpark through the lots, zig zagging to avoid hitting the pillars. Must be one hell of a cheap sale in Carrefour.

Totally disregarding her, I took my sweet time to look for a place to park, and finally found one which was right at the end of the carpark. I even took my time to spring the security lock, tell a few jokes and sauntered towards Carrefour entrance like we’re having a lazy Sunday teabreak.

Just as I was halfway through my journey, I met the very quick Indian chick. Guess what was she doing ?

She was still parking her car. From what I saw, she must be already like halfway completing it. But even that, it took her another 4 - 5 reverse cycles just to get her car aligned properly into the slot.

So, what does that implicate ? CHICKS ALREADY KNEW HOW TO FUCKING SPEED BEFORE THEY EVEN KNOW HOW TO PARK A GODDAMN CAR.

Let that be caveat to all of you here… stay away from chicks behind wheels. (housewives pose a totally different level of threat so, let’s not mix them up together…)

Saw something disturbing on TV a couple days ago. It was a program that showcases the uniqueness of one particular place called “Camelot Dog Daycare & Spa”. In case you’re wondering, YES … it’s a doggie spa. A fucking dog has a spa. Unfuckingbelievable.

Man, I can accept people talking, kissing or even sleeping with their dogs. But, to erect a spa to motherfucking pamper them ? This is way too much. Like, come on … a dog is an animal. It’s supposed to be the domesticated version of a freaking wolf. Know what wolves does ? They kill other cute animals like rabbits and squirrels for dinner. Savage and nasty is their nature. That’s why we rear them with limited love, so that they can fucking watch our gates !

Well, some psychotic dog lover would hoot me for this… because it’s good to be kind to animals. That they treat their own pets like a surrogate family of their own bla bla bla. Somebody tell me, if I were to have a camel or perhaps an iguana as my pet, do I goddamn send them to a friggin spa and feed them Mozart classical ? That would be fucking stupid.

In the program, the camera would pan in and about the establishment, showing pompously decorated room complete with aromatherapy candle with a doggy sized bathtub and a fully dedicated caretaker (which happened to be a deadpan blimp) obsequiously ’service’ their client dogs. Among the crazy things that they did there were :

1) bathe a doggie (with expensive dog shampoos etc)
2) massage a doggie (with a stupid lowlife expressionless blimp)
3) feed a doggie (with exotic cakes and cookies)
4) entertain a doggie(with classical music)
5) comfort a doggie (set them up some fireplace and comfy dog couch)
6) groom a doggie (thorough combing, manicuring their nails)
~) many more

All the while doing that with heaps of aromatherapy candles - so that they would relax and feel content about everything around them. *shakes head in disbelieve*

People, what have you done to the doggies ? Those 4 legged canines are probably thinking that us human are crazy.
Why would them dogs need a massage for ? (they just need plenty of running and shitting)
And what makes you think that dogs enjoy classical music ? (they just need something to bite. Like your mother in law’s wig)
Then of all crazy things, to manicure their claws with nail polish ? What, that suppose to improve their sex appeal ? (just in case any of you don’t know, bitches do not need sex appeal to get laid. They just need to secrete that WD40 magic lube with their own class of aromatherapy … and get mounted on…).

The ang moh’s are fucking chee sin !

I have lived in the slummiest establishments my whole prepubescent life. Well, that’s because I came from a broken family… thanks to my obnoxious parents that frolicked too much like hippies during their youth. Been renting at places and even lived in a house right next to a chicken coop. Suffice to say, I’ve experienced the worst kind of people one can ever find in Penang. People that pisses inside the elevator, that splat packets of curries from their high rise windows, people that rape homeless grannies, you name it. I was needless to say, sick of them and has always vowed to move out of that kind of seedy life … and change everything into what I’ve always wanted it to be.

Well, it finally happened 3 years ago. I finally moved into a medium cost apartment with a pristine neighbourhood to start a brand new peaceful life. It was more than double the size of my previous rented place … and my neighbours were educated professionals. Businessmen, professors and various sorts of executive class wage earners. Did that make me any happier? Well, despite the fact that I was quite elated about not seeing any human waste lying haplessly at the corner of the elevator or widespread property vandalism here, NO.

These fuckers ? They are not any better than those uneducated social misfits at all. If you can remember the list of fucked up neighbours I had blogged about. I’m not gonna blog about them again this round but, only the Indian blimp that lives on the 1st floor.

Let’s call him FatAss for convenience’ sake. Well, FatAss is a general manager of some multinational company. Achievement wise, I would say he is kinda successful. But the problem with this guy is his attitude. He is one hell of a querulous bitching wimp. He’d complain basically about anyone and anything. Read my post here for some history lesson.

Yes, FatAss’ black ass always loved calling the kettle black. He’s fucking black. His car is black. His everything is black. And he’s haughty with his wealth. Like owning a double apartment grants him with the authority of acting condescendingly upon all his neighbours. I’m not sure if this is a race thing or what, but I believe it’s inherent in his spastic genes to be such a snob. That’s because I learnt that his visiting relatives are just like him. Condescending right to their very bone.

I discovered that when I made a request to his visiting relatives (cousin brother or something) to move his car from the washing bay (which is a NO PARKING zone) … as I needed to wash my car last Sunday. But instead of feeling apologetic for his inconsideration, that fucker stomped out from the house with a surly expression when he was asked to move his car. Like I’ve just smeared shit on his face. As if it’s not dramatic enough, he acted up complaining to FatAss if he has the right to park at that space. Man, that almost sparked me to kill him. But FatAss knew that they’re obviously in the wrong, and acted along with his cousin by speaking loudly like he’s actually doing me a favour. Fucking buffoons.

Well, after FatAss’s cousin moved his vehicle, I shoved my baby in for a wash… and FatAss’s cousin took a private moment to glower at me, probably thinking that it would freak me out or something. But I glowered back … in such a threatening way and in full hope of catching him lip synching me some profanity - paving the opportunity for me to produce some blood clots in his brain.

But that didn’t happen of course. He kinda gave me an embarrassed grin and bailed. Pussy.

At about 1pm today, Pussy, again, parked his stupid car at that washing bay. That space, unfortunately, was right in front of the block’s dump - which the garbage truck would need it vacant a few times a week at a particular time to empty the cumulated refuse. But that garbage collecting schedule was impaired today because of Pussy’s inconsiderate parking. That basically sets off the whole block when the garbage truck blared it’s horn for Pussy. (story was told by Emily who didn’t go to work today…)

That tells us a lot about the intelligence of the so called ‘above the rest rich guys’. Like, what’s the point of acting like you’re of higher standard when your demeanor itself betrayed you ? To me, these people are no different than those hooligans that randomly fucks barnyard animals for sports. These people deserves no respect from me. In fact, I despises them.

And these are the people that kept earning the money to fuel their arrogance … JUST, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS WORLD ???

Alright, the previous piss-post kinda got me going at this piss marathon. I didn’t plan to blog about this as I thought I could use a little patience on the people around me, you know … anger management shits. But then, I thought, my anger management is supposed to be this blog ! What the hell am I thinking man ? I’ve got nobody to impress here. So, fuck you if you think I’m antisocial or being a racist.

Some conversation I had with a yuppie girl bitch from Finance today…

Me : “Hi [bitch's name], I would like to enquire about the cost of a particular item on that shelf. It was a box of chocolate. And …” [interrupted halfway]

Bitch : “I’m sorry, I have a stack of forms here to process. I need to go through them before I’m able to provide you the cost.”

Me : “Oh, ok. So, when will you be able to complete ‘going through’ the forms ? I needed to buy that box of chocolate urgently”

Bitch : “I’m sorry, I have a stack of forms here to process. I need to go through them before I’m able to provide you the cost.”

Me : “Errrmm … you’ve already told me that. I’m just asking, when would you be able to provide me the cost of that box of chocolate ?”

Bitch : “It’s not the matter of chocolate or not. It’s not important to me. You’ll have to give me until the end of today.”

Me : “What ?”

Bitch : “I have a stack of forms here to process.”

Me : “Ok, whatever. So, shall I provide you the brand & make of that chocolate so that I can check with you later ?”

Bitch : “No, I’ll need to process the forms first… then only I’ll be able to get the cost for you…”

Me : “Look, lady… how would you be able to get me the cost, if you don’t even know which box of chocolate I’m talking about ?”

Bitch : “I’m sorry, I have a stack of forms here to process. I need to go through them before I’m able to provide you the cost.”

Me : “Like can you at least get back to me when…” [interrupted halfway]

Bitch : “I’m rushing for closing today, am very busy and hope you can understand that.” [hangs up]

Me : “ARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!”

Motherfucking stupid bitch.

FYI, it actually wasn’t a box of chocolate. It’s some high end product in my workplace. I substituted it as ‘a box of chocolate’ to ease the task of explaining. (and work confidentiality’s sake)

The point I’m trying to make here is - if one doesn’t even know how to comprehend the simplest form of an instruction or inquiry, how can we expect them to correctly get our accounts up and running without discrepancies ? That explains a lot on the local financial fuckups that the management kept complaining about. Maybe we didn’t overspent… maybe it was the stupid accountants that screw everything up.

*If you don’t understand the whole thing above, nevermind.