My office phone rang when I was having a discussion with a colleague today…

Anonymous caller : [strong Malay accent] “hello Mint….”

Me : [bellows with a strong virile voice] “No, this is Anna. What do you want ?”

Anonymous caller : *GASP* “Erhh… sorry…sorry… tersalah nombor…”

*CLICK*

Man I laughed so hard that I almost shat in my pants.

Now I’m sure most of you guys have received a boo-boo call before. Be it a prank, crossed line or a pure blatant misdial… they can be annoying at times. But if you’re creative enough, it’s gonna spell ‘fun’ instead. Here are a couple of wicked replies I’ve heard in the past …

*****

Some random guy called for my teenage sister in the middle of the night. My mom answered because my sister was asleep like a corpse :

Anonymous caller : “May I speak to Beancurd ?”

Mom : “Beancurd ? There’s no Beancurd here. This is a casket trading company. You want something ?”

Anonymous caller : *frantically slams the phone*

*****

An Indian guy called the wrong number to my friend’s cellphone.

Indian guy : “Hello ? @#$%^&*()_+” [uttering some high tempo Tamil language]

Steven : “Ying-girl-lair…. ying-girl-lair …. ying-girl-lair”

Indian guy : “Hello ??? Hello ???”

Steven : “Ying-girl-lair ?”

Indian guy : *CLICK*

*****

*There are more which I could not recall.

And I would love to do something about those telemarketing dipshits that keep pestering me whimsically. Just some day…

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

Me : “Hi [bitch's name], I would like to inquire 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 and 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 type of chocolates I was 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 to protect work confidentiality)

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 that person 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 overspend… maybe it was the stupid accountants that screw everything up.

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

Today, I received a call from my boss Pete. Well, ex-boss now, to be exact. He sounded as if I’ve killed his pet dog, some grave matter, dropdead serious.

me : “What happened Pete? What’s the matter?”

pete : “I would like to clarify something with you.”

me : “Go ahead dude, what’s the matter ?”

pete : “Did you know what we ordered that night?”

I could not grasp what he was actually trying to ask me. (because I was half sick myself today. I see things in 256 colors and my resolution was blurry).

me : “Huh ?”

pete : “You know, that night.”

It was the night we went out romping after a colleague’s wedding dinner.

me : “The night after [colleague]‘s wedding dinner?”

pete : “Yeah, I wanted to know what have we ordered in the club…”

me : “2 bottles of whiskies. And later through the night, you stirred some shit with the waitress and ordered another bottle of brandy.”

pete : “Oh.. did I??? That explains the bill!”

me : “Are you telling me that you don’t remember paying for all that?”

pete : “Errr… I can’t recall anything at all. I just happened to see 2 bills in my wallet and I got the shock of my life…”

Damn, can you imagine that? My boss calling me up to ask me about something he don’t remember doing in a club. Later when I showed some pictures of him intimating with some female species, he exclaimed :

pete : “GODDAMN! I don’t even remember taking those pictures!”

Yeah, he don’t even remember who brought him home that night (it wasn’t me).

Sometime last week …

I was looking for my colleague Elbee, needed to get something done. There was no answer from his desk phone, so I called him at his cellphone. It went on unanswered. But just before the call went into the voice message, Elbee answered.

Elbee : “Errr…hello…”

Me : “Elbee! Michael chi peng.”
(translation : “Elbee! It’s Michael here”)

Elbee : “Errr … hamisu ?”
(translation : “Errr… what’s the matter ?”)

I noticed that his voice sounded a bit different. It was as if he was talking inside a metal box. It had this kind of weird echo / surround effect. I was curious about just where he was… and so, I took the initiative to find out

Me : “Elbee… lu tua toh lok ui?”
(translation : “Elbee… where are you now?”)

Elbee : “Errr… wa tua ti… errr… ha mi su boh ?”
(translation : “Errr… I’m now at… errr… what’s the matter actually?”)

From the way he responded, I managed to hard-guess that he was probably taking a dump inside a toilet booth.

Me : “Elbee… lu tua toilet si boh? heheh …”
(translation : “Elbee… are you inside the toilet? heheh…”)

Elbee : “Eh heh heh… ha mi su ?”
(translation : “Eh heh heh… what’s up ?”)

Me : “Hahah… an chua? pang sai song boh?”
(translation : “Hahah… how was everything? Are you having a great time taking your dump?”)

Elbee : “Heheh… hmmph..”

He was clearly paying attention on something else at that moment. Probably was working on a particular long piece of shit, trying to snip it off by contracting his anus hard.

Me : “Ok ler Elbee… ban ban pang. Pang liao, ka call wa… ok ?”
(translation : “Ok Elbee… take your time. Just call me once you finish dumping… ok ?”)

Elbee : “Hmmmpphh … erhh… ok… ”

Kinda wondered, why is it so hard for some people to multitask while taking a dump? I would usually bring along a book or my PDA for some games while taking my dump. Sometimes, I would even call up my friends to chat too… because dumping shit is a boring business.

My friend – Charles, he even brought along his portable disc player into the toilet, reading a copy of Gila-Gila at the same time (our local humor magazine, equivalent to Mad in US). It’s a good thing. Maybe Elbee’s capacity isn’t doing him justice…

So kids, heed this message by brother Michael — When you take a dump, always bring along your revision book… or a porn mag… or a Gameboy… or a foot massager. Just anything. According to some experts, it helps to train your brain how to multitask even in the most difficult situation – such as getting high defecating. (don’t ask me which expert).

Another community message brought to you by michaelooi.

Yesterday, I received a call from an unknown source. A female voice with a fake English accent greeted me when I answered my mobile phone. (conversation was re-enacted based on my memory. Slight discrepancy is expected. So, don’t bitch about it.)

Unknown caller : “Hi Mr Ooi. My name is Irene. Are you convenient to talk?”

Me : “Who is this? Do I know you? Where did you get my number??”

Irene : “Oh, I am actually calling from X hotel. Just want to let you know about our latest promotion here.”

Me : “Uhuh”
[I did not hang up because she kinda sounded like someone hot then...]

Irene : “I’m delighted to inform you that we are giving you a complimentary free 1 night stay at our hotel …”
[I was beginning to like her. I started to imagine her as a somewhat attractive chick]

Me : “Wow… I am surprised, but impressed.”
[X hotel is a very well known luxury hotel in Penang, so...]

Irene : “Only if… you have the membership. You have to join the X hotel club to be able to enjoy the entitlement. May I know what is your line of occupation, Mr Ooi?”
[aaah there's the catch... her looks were withering... I was planning to hang up]

Me : “Engineering”

Irene : “May I ask, what do you think of X hotel ? Have you been to X hotel before, Mr Ooi?”

Me : “Nope. But I’ve been to one of the pubs located at the skirt of X hotel before… the place was alright.”
[i remember barfing together with Luis after a drinking session beside X hotel before, the place has a big ass sea for us to barf all we want... so it was rightfully rated as 'alright']

Irene : “Oh, I just want to let you know that the place has now totally changed. It has been renovated now and it looks realllllyyyyy fantastic… and bla bla bla … restaurant … bla bla … free … bla bla …discount … bla bla … ”
[She sounded desperate. And cheap. And I started to dislike her.]

Me : “Look Irene. It’s very nice of you to let me know so many offers that you’ve got there. Now, why don’t you just send all the information to me through email… including ‘the catch’… I’ll read them through, and respond to you accordingly… ok? It is hard for me to remember so many things you’ve said…”
[I was trying to be polite and stuff, you know?]

Irene :”But… this is telemarketing. It is suppose to be like that…”
[I swear I did not make this up... this is what she said verbatim. That was stupid.]

Me :”Heck, of course I know this is telemarketing. But I’m sure telemarketers have their own email accounts… don’t they ?”
[I was still trying to be polite, but garnished with a hint of sarcasm to taste...]

Irene :”Oh … maybe I can call you back later when you are more convenient to jot the info down…”
[desperate bitch]

Me :”I’m hanging up Irene. My battery’s getting flat.”
[I could have yelled at her, but I didn't]

Irene :”Ok ok ok, what is your email address?”

I gave her my work email and hung up. But she never sent me anything.

Stupid telemarketers. I hate them.