I was having my lunch with a bunch of workmates when a clueless dolt colleague (a male) asked me a silly question,

“Hey Michael, do you have any idea which part of the cow is the rib-eye?”

A cow has many parts with specific names and only 2 are known to me. ‘Edible’ and ‘inedible’. ‘Edible’ is like, the meat part, and ‘inedible’ is parts like hooves, horns, bones, etc. So obviously, it was a mistake to ask me because I don’t give a shit which part of the cow is rib-eye, sirloin or groin, as long as it is meat and it is edible. But I was trying to be creative with my reply, and shot him this,

“It’s the dark and wrinkled region between the cow’s penis and nutsack.”

Imagine that in Hokkien, with luncheow and lamphar. That was what I said.

It was meant to be a sarcastic reply but I totally forgot that my manager also brought a female guest and she was just sitting right beside that colleague (how could I miss her, escapes me), and she heard everything I said. *facepalms*

My colleague tried to discreetly alert me about her being right next to him and that was when I went ‘Oh shit!’, and braced myself for a potentially career threatening situation. Luckily, she took it well and let out a sporting laugh. But still, ‘PHEW!’. It could have been tragic if the female guest was an asshole and went to our HR to lodge a complain.

What a stupid boner. This wasn’t the first time I got into shit like that.

My wife Emily and I went to an Italian restaurant. We ordered a set lunch, a pizza and a mug of caramel coffee. It was a good lunch.

When we’re enjoying the food, I joked about how nice it would be if the restaurant owner were to come over to tell us that our meal was prepared by some handicapped people in their charity-based establishment, and we’re already doing them an honor by eating the food and therefore everything will be free out of their sheer gratefulness…

Fast forward 30 minutes later, we decided to call for the bill. I didn’t look at the bill (my bad habit), and just gave the waiter my credit card. When the receipt came later (after I paid), Emily checked on the receipt… turned to look at me in a wide-eyed expression and said “I think there has been a mistake…”

Apparently, the cashier (or whoever the chick behind the counter was) had erratically punched the wrong amount for our set lunch. There was a missing digit on its unit price – instead of RM19.90, the cashier punched RM1.90. That was when the ‘charity’ joke started to eerily waft into my mind…

What would you do if you were to be in my shoes? And what do you reckon we did next?

My friends and I were leaving from an important event, and were in the same car. Bitten by exhaustion and fatigue, none of the guys was talking much. Thinking of lightening up the mood a little, I playfully remarked about a certain girl whom we saw at the event earlier…

“Man, that Jane sure has a huge pair of tits, don’t you guys think so? I can imagine them being so firm and bouncy…”

Just as I was about to vividly detail the various imaginable fun things I could do with Jane’s pair of well endowed funbags, I suddenly realized that I was getting this seriously disgusted stare from all the guys – like I was the sickest pervert on the planet.

A moment of silence ensued, with myself heavily processing what the fuck was going on. It was then dawned on me, that none of the guys knew the name of that big tittied girl we saw at the event (I know her though). And coincidentally, the name ‘Jane’ is also shared by another friend’s wife… who was ALSO at the event (and also, *cough*… well endowed *cough*).

So, it was a gross misunderstanding there. My friends thought I was slobbering on another friend’s wife! The disgusted stare was all about my reputation being put on the line there…

“NOOOOOOO YOU SICK BASTARDS! I was referring to the OTHER Jane… ” and I had to explain the whole thing to them… the right Jane, and the wrong Jane. Which Jane’s tits I was referring to. Fortunately, their exhaustion did not dampen their cognitive ability, and manage to get the facts straight, which they then laughed off like a bunch of sickest perverts on the planet.

What a fucking close call indeed. Who would have thought that a simple case of mistaken identity could nearly go terribly wrong like this?

I had to yell at a bunch of kids at a KFC joint today.

It happened at the indoor playground area, when I was looking after Regine. It was all good at the playground until that bunch of obnoxious kids came and started to wreak havoc upon mankind. For the record here, the indoor playground was meant for kids under 10, but those kids that came were like 10 – 12 years old. There were 5 of them in a gang, brought over by this middle aged Chinese housewife in a revolting spaghetti string attire.

They came into the playground and played ‘chase’ – which I didn’t really mind at first, albeit I was a little bit annoyed with the screaming and all. But when they pushed my Regine and made her almost tip over a 4 feet high platform, I snapped (I managed to grab her in time). I mean, can you imagine that? Seeing a 10 year old imp push my 2 year old angel like nobody’s business? Man, I could have tossed that little shit half way across the restaurant. But of course I didn’t do that (I would if it isn’t a crime). Instead, I hissed at the bunch of kids in my best impression of a mean fucker – “HEY! If you guys want to play, play properly, ok??”

A harmless warning with a hint of violence in it. Simple enough for the kids to understand that if they don’t heed my warning, they’re going to have to see the doctor to have chicken bones removed from their rectum. They immediately toned down right after I issued the threat. The spaghetti string housewife was around when I did the hissing, and she didn’t like that a bit. I thought she’d come over to confront me, but she didn’t. She’s probably scared of me or something. Whatever.

But I happened to spot her glowering at me from outside the window pane when she left the premise with her bunch of devil spawns, with the kind of expression like I was a pedophile who almost got a piece off one of them. She then muttered something vulgar (while still glowering at me) and then did what it seemed like she was reassuring her kids that I was just another terrible man from out of town. Not wanting to be left out, I reciprocated her hostility by lip syncing the word ‘BITCH’ and ‘CHEEBYE‘ back at her, which riled her even more… and then she fucking disappeared.

I swear, had she confronted me verbally when she was in the restaurant, I would have taken the liberty to say something really mean to her (since I needed to de-stress very badly lately anyway…), like how she ought to sheath her tits with those black garbage plastic bags to match the sag contour, and how rustic people like her shouldn’t reproduce, lest she would make the human species look bad to the animals. There’s a popular Malay word to describe the kind of people she is – Kurang ajar. Neither she nor any of her kids attempted to apologize for shoving my Regine.

Maybe some of you might say that they’re just kids being kids, but hell, there was actually another group of kids of about the same age before the little devils came. In contrast to the devil kids, the earlier group knew how to be considerate and share, and waited for their turn to play. Most important thing was, they knew how to cut my Regine some slack knowing she’s little and all. They didn’t scream like they’ve lost their fucking mind. And they didn’t run around like the building’s on fire. That’s what I would deem a normal, well taught, regular kid is. And when the little devils came, the first group automatically left. (unfortunately, except my Regine because she’s too little to realize that the hot soup’s pouring over and I couldn’t make her leave).

All in all, it’s just fucking sad to have people like her living amongst us.

I was walking along the office corridor yesterday morning. A middle aged balding manager was walking from the opposite direction. After a couple feet past him, the guy said to me (from behind),

“Errrmmm excuse me, your fly’s open.”

I went like, oh, ok… and zipped it up (no big deal for me). But after a short distance away from him, a disturbing thought suddenly loomed over me and I started to feel very uneasy about the whole thing – how did he know if my fly’s open if he was not checking out my crotch? And why the fuck would he check my crotch out? I wouldn’t mind if a girl or a housewife does that. It probably wouldn’t have been so kooky. But a middle aged balding guy?

Goddamn.

Now that I think of it, I’ve never actually saw any guy with his barn door wide open before. The reason’s simply because I never check out crotches of the same sex. I’d ogle at girls, their tits, asses and try to spot a cameltoe, yes – which is normal for a guy – but I’d never check out any part of a guy’s physique because that’s just so fucking gay. And the unfortunate incident was not even circumstantial. Not like I was climbing a ladder in front of him or something like that. He had to actually make it an effort to look down just to be able to see my crotch, and that’s just so fucking disturbing. To the very bone. This is so fucking wrong man…

If you guys disagree with me, pretty please, give me a good reason why I shouldn’t feel that way (or you blokes can tell me if you do check out other fellow blokes’ crotches… ewwh)