Archive for the ‘experiences’ Category

December 1, 2015

animals like my house

I came home to this bizarre scene yesterday…

stucked cat
Is it a fucking garbage bag? A garbage bag with furry balls?

At first I thought someone prank-hung a garbage bag on my door, but upon a closer look, I realized it was fucking cat. Here’s an up close pic of that darn intruder…
Read the rest of this entry »

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May 6, 2014

different kind of weird

I have gotten inured to the fact that Company T is often associated with words like ‘nerd’ or ‘weirdo’. It’s hard to deny the association, having seen countless people with really eccentric behavior. I’m not trying to say that I’m a normal person trapped inside this fucked up place or anything like that. I’m far from normal. In fact, in certain circumstances, I can be psychotic and antisocial or a combination both. But the people in Company T, are of different kind of ‘weird’ (in a much more fucked up way). So, how can one be worse than a combo of psycho/misanthrope like me? That answer – the employees of Company T.

Take an example, an incident that happened inside a Gents (I know this sounds kinky, but stay with me). I was alone, and was using this ordinary looking urinal, when I noticed this old codger standing behind me, quietly. At first I didn’t notice him (I thought I was alone) – just had this feeling that I was being watch and decided to look over my shoulder, and caught this guy there with my peripheral vision. It wouldn’t have been that disturbing if he’s just there jerking off or something like that (he’d just be a gay exhibitionist, nothing to be alarmed of), but he was just standing there – smirking. Like the guy’s at another level of being psychotic, waiting for something to happen, and ready to yank his dick wrinkled dick out anytime. That was when my worry set in – there were about 3 other vacant urinals around, why the fuck would this guy stand behind me giving me this sick smirk? I quickly did the ‘clamp’ (you know, just clamp up the unfinished piss with your dick sphincter and be done with it) and fucking bee-lined to the nearest exit. That was only when I noticed that he was actually waiting to use that PARTICULAR URINAL, which was sort of like, his personal urinal. That guy, must have somehow developed a bond to that fucking urinal – which he’d use everytime he thinks of draining his lizard. So that smirk that he gave me, was actually the same that one swinger would give to another swinger who’s porking his wife in a swinging event – like “Hey buddy, enjoy that ass, it’s awesome!” – It was a smirk of approval, that I can use his fucking urinal.

Tell me, how sick is that in your book of sickness?? And let’s not even mention about the girl who got labelled by me as the ‘cunt who just got out alive in a cosmetic factory explosion’… amongst others.

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May 8, 2013

dysfunctional family

I went for a lunch at a steamboat restaurant with my daughter and wife the other day, and there was this family of 4 sitting right next to our table. It was the worst lunch we had.

First, let me introduce the terrible family of 4 – the dad was fair porcine guy with thick specs, and the mom was a this short fat fucking bitch who had an ass so huge that it dimpled even her pants. With them, were 2 kids – boy aged about 6, and the girl about 2.

When we reached there, we initially thought we’re going to have a tough time putting up with 2 obnoxious kids next to our table (because, you know, they seem to fit the profile). But we couldn’t have been so wrong. It was the fucked up mother that was the worst. When she first saw us, she started by loudly exclaiming ‘Oh no, I hope the other patrons won’t mind sitting beside us because our table would be so noisy!’. I immediately knew that we’re in some kind of a trap, and avoided eye contact immediately… but my wife being a somewhat friendly person, did a grave mistake of smiling back at her. It was one of the many things she regretted in life.

It started after we sat down. The bitch started her drama by starting to talk to her kids in fake Queen’s English accent loudly – which got both her kids startled, because it was so strange seeing her mother suddenly being such a strange attention whore. When she figured that we weren’t interested, she would spontaneously break into an unprovoked cackle, and prod her husband for a reassuring response. Then she’d again look at us if we’re reacting in any way. At that time, Emily and I started to get really scared, and we were trying not to move too much – just like what people say about feigning dead when you’re near a rampaging bear. Regine on the other hand, was all pale and quiet because she was so fucking scared that the bitch might charge at us with a fork or something.

The wacko fat bitch would go on babbling non-stop loudly (her peripheral vision all the while trying to catch us paying her the attention she vied for), sometimes she’d yell at her kids for no reason at all and if not that, she’d suddenly preach them about science, tell them about English grammar and some other shit that didn’t fit in a restaurant. The husband would laugh retardedly at every single thing she said. The daughter would cry on and off (probably scared at her mad mother) and the boy would just behave like a spoilt fuck like dumping the utensils on the floor, and saucers into the pot of steamboat (because her mother’s nuts).

I was both scared and mad at the same time. The right thing to do, would have been to usher my wife and kid out of the view, before I shove the scorching hot electric steamboat up her dimpled ass and beat her to pulp with a ladle. Then I’m going to cook her kids and husband. But that could only remain a black and white thoughts of fantasy because we’re living a society that practices courtesy and we’re bound by the penal system. I wish I could do something about it but I couldn’t. So, I just hoovered my food with a straight face until the dysfunctional family finally left and only then we managed to properly eat our lunch in peace.

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April 23, 2013

kids don’t give a shit

My daughter Regine was recently ‘threatened’ by a classmate of hers, apparently over a sticker exchange that didn’t go quite well. I’ll spare the details but it all started with that classmate, who demanded her stickers back after an exchange with my daughter. And when my daughter was unable to give it back (she’d lost it or given it to someone else), that classmate spun a ‘threat’ about wanting to get someone to whack Regine. Being a timid little turd (unlike me), Regine got piss scared and was unable to even eat her food during recess.

When my wife found out about the incident, she discussed it with me, and told me about her intention of wanting to talk some sense into that samseng girl, to which I opposed. My argument is, YOU SIMPLY CAN’T TALK SOME SENSE INTO A 7 YEAR OLD. If they have senses, they wouldn’t be watching shits like Barney or Barbie. I told my wife – If you talk to her, she’d just hear a bunch of bullshit and probably gonna nod or something, and then she’d go back to business as usual. How do I know that? Well, I was once like that samseng girl. I could imagine myself in her shoes.

It happened when I was also 7 years old (Standard 1). I was in a fight in the schoolbus I was in, with an Indian boy named ‘Xavier’, who’s 3 years my senior (Standard 4). Let’s just say, it didn’t go quite well for him. He ended up with some really nasty bruises, and a bite mark that scared his parents shitless (yes, I bit him. He tasted like curry). What happened next was hilarious. Xavier summoned his father to ‘talk some senses’ into me. You know what happened? I didn’t hear shit. All I remember was Xavier’s dad standing next to the schoolbus window (that I was hanging out next to) like a fucking idiot talking loudly to me, emotionally charged. The only thing I had in mind then, was how hard I am going to laugh at Xavier’s ass for being such a loser, and how much harder I am going to hurt him in the next fight. See my point? Kids don’t give a shit.

But I know, the situation would have been different if Xavier took it to the school and had me incarcerated. I’d be shitting in my pants (for some strange reasons, kids are scared of authorities). So, that’s why I suggested my wife to take it to the class teacher instead. That samseng girl will definitely pay some attention that way, and she will get monitored by that teacher. And if we’re really lucky, she might even shit her pants, and she’d think twice before messing with anyone again.

And Emily did just that. Too bad the samseng girl didn’t shit her pants. But I think I’m going to send my daughter to a Taekwon-do class that I’ve been wanting to. The time is ripe for her to stand up for herself. That incident could have been a great opportunity for her to put her skills to practice, but we missed the chance. We’ll take the next one.

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June 19, 2012


I attended the ‘new hire orientation’ at Company T yesterday. For those of you who have not worked before, it is basically a program to brainwash new hires (en masse) into docile working class zombies so that they’re easier to be manipulated and taken advantage of. Think of it like how Father Merrin chant the words of God to quell the evil that has taken residence inside Linda Blair in The Exorcist. To format her off the corruption and back to become a person again.

It was quite a huge turnout yesterday. About 40 – 50 pax. Most of them were young individuals who took this as their first ever job. Due to the size of the crowd, the class was thus divided into smaller groups of about 6 – 7 pax, and in the group that I was in, no surprise, I was the oldest there. In fact, fuck, I think I might even be the oldest in the whole fucking orientation! But that’s beside the point, and not really important.

Anyway, after a few not-so-subtle introductions to the company culture and a few feel good perk-ups by the instructor, we were given a task to get to know the team members in the group. The objective was to give us a feel of how important networking is (it’s silly really). In the exercise, each of us was given a piece of paper with little boxes labelled with some common traits like ‘log in to facebook everyday’, ‘likes spicy food’, et al. The participants were then asked to go around and fill in the names of anyone they came across who fits traits, into the corresponding boxes (thus the concept of ‘networking’ – told you it’s silly).

Then something funny happened in my group. There was this girl, who has a set of buckteeth that looked like those metal fenders on a steam operated locomotive in the 19th century, got confused when I remarked on one of the traits labeled as ‘is a bachelor’. I said to the group “I take it that, you’re all bachelors except me?”. The guys nodded, but buckteeth girl looked at me like I had a dick growing out of my face. And in almost a comical fashion, she asked me this – “So if you’re not a bachelor, then what are you?”. That was when the whole group went silent and dumbfucked. I didn’t know how to respond to her question without hurting her feelings, so I feigned a nice smile and said to her in friendliest tone like I was a nice old man – “If I’m not a bachelor, then I must be married lor…”

I don’t know how a person could be so out of frequency by so many bands in this functioning society. She must have thought that word bachelor meant my education level… I wonder what they’ve been teaching the kids nowadays at college. *facepalm*

To those of you who welcomed me to Company T, thank you. May the force be with us.

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