May 29, 2011
My daughter had been pestering me to buy her a music box for days. Because her birthday is drawing near, I decided to give in to her request and brought her to the nearest mall to find one during the weekend. That was why I ended up looking around in one of the gaudy gift shops – and spotted this hideous piece of shit here :
Sorry for the poor image quality, as I was in a frantic mode and was doing it quick because I wouldn’t want to be caught dead snapping the picture of this thing here. But you know what it is. It’s a fucking kerosene lamp cheapened by the color red. This fucking thing actually brought back memories when I was a teenager. Shocking as hell, I received one during Valentine’s Day, and I don’t remember from whom it was. I can only recall being so irked by it, that I immediately tossed it into a dustbin and let off a spasmodic shiver.
I mean, what the fuck do I do with it? To actually light that thing up with kerosene?? And then what?? Smoke a pipe of opium with it?? It doesn’t make any sense! I could probably use a thousand and one thing out there in this world, but this?? It’s fucking insulting. So, to you teenage stupid fucks out there, don’t buy something like this as a gift to someone. It’s stupid. Get something practical instead. Like a USB flash drive, or perhaps a set of Meguiar car care products…
May 22, 2011
Credit card salespeople. I know you have one of the most degradingly sadistic job in existence in the fast moving society of the 21st century. I know you’re just a couple blowjobs short of being a FOC whore. I know you have to lurk in alleys at night, if not toil under the sun, contend with people’s behavior (and their B.O.) and sometimes, get mugged back in return. Totally hazardous job, I know. I feel sorry for you, yes.
But that’s the price you pay for wanting to earn money too quick, without the need to think, plot and scheme, and not wanting to make full use of the tertiary education your parents paid for. And because I know you’re like that, I also totally understand that you’re a person completely void of being capable being self conscious, and properly synchronize with the social decorum – because of your direct pact with the Devil of helping him peddle 100 credit card accounts (or whatever the number is) by the end of that fiscal month. Your motivation is money and you’ve become a pest now.
I generally don’t give a fuck about people like you. I can just wave you off and you’d move on to another potential host like a parasite. But as of recent, people of your ilk started to get overboard and started to block my path when I’m walking. Now THAT, is fucked up. It’s a cardinal sin that you people should never do. Be as annoying as you want, but NEVER block a person’s path. If your bullshitting is good enough, a person would choose to stop and listen. But when you block a person’s path to stop him/her from walking so that you could ejaculate your marketing bullshits, that’s no difference than forcing people to suck your dick. “Hey you, why don’t you suck my dick? I’d like it.”. It’s all about having respect and this is mutual.
So, always remember, NEVER block a person’s path. Do your thing at the side. Your job is already abominable enough as it is, don’t make it worse by being an asshole.
May 19, 2011
I’ve been plying the same route to work every morning, same time and always reach at my workplace on time. Fifteen minutes. That’s all it takes. If it’s during school holiday, then the journey will predictably be shorter. Occasionally, the route gets a little bit congested when some dipshit gets into an accident. But that would usually set me back like, 5 – 10 minutes tops. Nothing to worry about. So this has pretty much become part of my daily routine. It’s like waking up expecting myself to be alive or something like that.
But this morning, the route was somehow choked up like a motherfucking hooker overstuffed herself with several oversized tampons. The 15 minutes journey became a 50 minutes journey and I was fucking late for work. Do you know why? Traffic fucking policemen. For some strange reasons, several of those cocksucking pigs decided to show up early and overrode a few traffic lights along the route. The result was catastrophic.
That kinda prompted me to ponder all over (during the idle time inside the car during the massive congestion) – why do we fucking need these traffic policemen, really? I mean, the slot of general law enforcement is already taken up by the other pig, right? The regular cops? Then what do the traffic cops actually do? Traffic law enforcement? Then what about those JPJ officers in the big SUVs then?
And then what the fuck’s with the overriding the traffic lights stuff? None of the traffics lights were out this morning. Why did they have to override the traffic lights and what was the rationale behind it? It obviously wasn’t to ‘ease the traffic congestion’. In fact, there wasn’t a congestion until they show up and ruin everyone’s shit!
To me, it’s just very simple –
traffic policemen = traffic jam.
no traffic policemen = no traffic jam.
Why do we need them then? Fuck them.
May 8, 2011
We were at the mall buying this pair of expensive shoes of mine. The lady who manned (or womanned) the shop asked when we were about to pay, if any of us (my wife and I) is from outstation. Curious, my wife asked her why would she want to know that. Apparently, the mall has this special program of giving a 10% discount to whoever that is not from Penang. All the person got to do, is prove the ‘outstationness’ by producing an identification card or a driver’s license to apply for this ‘out-of-town’ discount card for selected shops. Fair enough.
So my wife gave the shop assistant her driver’s license – which has her old address from Perak – and which we thought would be sufficient to prove (beyond any doubt, beside having a ’08’ code in her MyKad number). Then the shop assistant took my wife’s license to the mall’s information counter to apply for the discount card meant for ‘out-of-town’ patrons while we waited in the shop. About a 5 minutes later, the shop assistant came back and told us, it was rejected because my wife’s driver license has expired!
Now think about it a minute, what fucking difference does it make if my wife’s driver’s license is expired or not? So if her driver’s license is expired, she’s not from Perak aaa? What the fuck?
And that was what I said to the shop assistant. She just shrugged and told us it was the mall’s policy.
I guess that’s what happens when you hire the wrong kind of people to do the job. I believe this was originally planned to encourage more outstation folks to shop at the mall. But instead of creating a positive experience, it created quite the opposite effect by being so anal like that. Short of providing some photos, one could have mistaken that he/she’s actually applying for a fucking passport!
May 2, 2011
One thing I learned after being a parent – teaching a kid tenses can be such a pain.
Just the other day, my soon-to-be 5 year old daughter came to me and asked if she could bring her painted ice cream sticks into the bathroom…
Regine: “Daddy, may I bring the ice cream sticks into the bathroom?”
Me: “I don’t think you should, Regine.”
Regine: “Why, daddy?”
Me: “That’s because you drew on them, remember? The ink’s going to come off when wet.”
Regine: “But I didn’t drool on them!”