Archive for the ‘rantings’ Category

December 26, 2016

hairdressers 2

My perpetual search for a cheap haircut brought me to the neighborhood of Greenlane, a small seedy ‘salon’ (anything can be called a salon these days) near a marketplace which reminded me of the porcine housewife hairdresser at Batu Lanchang I liked many years back, who gave an awesome haircut. I shouldn’t have been this naive but, what the hell.

I should’ve guessed from the signs beforehand that it’s going to be bad. First of all, the patrons there comprised of only old hags – I should have made a u-turn to get the fuck out of there, but I didn’t. The salon owner was the sole worker there, and she specializes in setting up old people’s hair. But I had to go ask if she provides a haircut, which she ardently asked me to take a seat first while she gave one of the octogenarians there a ‘blow job’ (a blow dry with a hairdryer).

The second sign, was when she asked me to help her remove a stuck extension 3-pin-sockets – you know, one of those 1-plug-to-3-sockets that allows more devices to be plugged in to the same socket. The darn thing was stuck, and there hadn’t been any guy around to remove that for her. From what I reckoned, that place hadn’t seen a male DNA for months, and I was the chosen one. I was quick to notice that she was using a 2k watt hairdryer and the socket thing basically melted the fuck off in there because of that. This is a sign that the ‘salon’ wasn’t making enough money to add extra electrical sockets and she had to resort to buy some cheap ass extenders that just couldn’t take the kind of load. I should have made a beeline to the exit, but I didn’t. I stayed on to find out how deep does the rabbit hole goes.

The third sign, was when I saw her frantically searching for her hair clipper, and its extender, which was tightly wrapped in a plastic bag that hadn’t seen light for months. This was an ominous sign that no one ever goes there for a haircut. I should have fucking elbowed her in the pancreas and take a dash or dive through the exit door. But I didn’t. I sat on the hairdressing chair like a dolt, and let the fucking biddy rape my head with all her bullshit. The end result? Was this catastrophic haircut that made me look like a cross between Ringo Starr and some traditional Iban tribals. My IQ point immediate went down 10 points when I looked into the mirror and my daughter nearly disowned me. I wanted to yell at her but, I was too shocked to do anything, so I paid and immediately left to limit the damage.

I initially thought I could just wax up my hair, but it seemed obvious to me that I was definitely going to get my ass dished to me at work by anyone who sees me. So I decided to take another trip to my other regular hairdressing place at a hypermarket (which I regularly visit, read here) and requested for an emergency ‘fix’ from the tomboy hairdresser.

“So, where did you say you got this haircut again? An Indian barber shop?”
“Worse, it was a seedy salon at a marketplace ran by an old housewife…”
*snigger* “An old housewife… well, she didn’t cut you clean… it seems… You’re lucky this can still be fixed.”

And she recommended me to go G.I. with a ‘little bit of fringe to maintain some decent style’. It was the best she could do. And I had no choice but to go along with that. That’s why I fucking sport a G.I now and I fucking deserved it for being such a goddamn retard.

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November 1, 2016

self conscious

I don’t understand how some people can be so lack of self conscious that they can’t fucking tell if they have a really bad case of body odor. I have that self conscious all the time. I know it when I smell and I’d do something about it like taking a shower or simply mask that shit with a body spray or something. Not because I give a shit but, because I don’t like the attention (alright, I give a shit).

But some people, they’d go around stinking up the place like nobody business, case in point was this cocksucker I stumbled upon in the morning at Company T cafeteria a couple days back. A scraggy Indian guy with a bald spot big enough to make his head ticks form a flat-Earth society, who stinked like he had just came out of a box full of squashed roaches. I was unfortunate enough to be standing behind him at the cafeteria cashier (fuck my life) when I caught a whiff of this cibai human tear gas. I almost keeled over and spilled my breakfast on the floor! People like him shouldn’t be allowed into the civilization!

I can totally understand that if

A) that guy was to be a laborer who had worked the whole day under the hot sun.
B) it was close to the end of the day

But Company T is a place full of white collar workers! And it was 7am in the morning! When every-fucking-one is suppose to still smell fresh from the morning shower! Who the fuck stinks like that early at 7am in the fucking morning!? This fucking Indian manager guy! God fucking damn I don’t know how much longer I can stand not beating up someone and end up in jail

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September 21, 2016

iPhone 7

I have a couple of friends who have been waiting for the iPhone 7 for months.

When it was finally revealed a few weeks ago, I could tell that they’re somewhat disappointed… but instead of showing their disappointment overtly about it, they feigned excitement about the product… which sickened me. And one of them even expressed that he’d still buy it despite its glaring shortcomings. I mean, what the fuck’s that all about!? One minute that guy complains about the stupid phone not having a goddamn headphone jack, and the next minute he wants to spend a fortune buying that piece of crap! That was when I realized that this isn’t really about a product being good or bad… it’s about the perceived social status being seen with a fucking iPhone.

So, despite being a crappier phone than it already was in the line, I think this goddamn iPhone 7 could actually still sell well. Thanks to you morons. One of my whore hound booze buddy, who is an iPhone fanboy, uses his fucking iPhone to boost his self confidence (or the lack of). He’s definitely going to get one when it is available. Nevermind that he doesn’t even fucking know how to use 80% of the phone’s features (he isn’t smart enough to even pair a fucking bluetooth device with it). He just needs one to start a conversation. *flashes phone to a waitress/chick*

“What do you think of my new iPhone? Neat eh?” *starts a conversation.

See my point? Makes me puke in my mouth. I guess the same can be said about people patronizing outlets like Starbucks or Coffee Bean. They just want to be seen pretentiously using an expensive Macbook Air sipping expensive coffee…

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August 21, 2016

double parking is never ok

Lately, there’s this trend of people posting pictures of reckless driving/parking to a dedicated Facebook page to shame the perpetrating bastards. I’ve seen shitloads of them shared by my friends. One of the most annoying ones, has to be ‘double parking’. (I’ve never encountered a lot of double parkers myself though, just once)

Now, each time I see these double parking rants get posted on the said Facebook page, I’m bound to see some smartasses commenting that – “how can the asshole park his/her car without leaving his/her number on the dashboard!?”. Do you see what is wrong here? If you don’t, then you ought to be lynched. Here, let me point this out to you – the main problem is supposed to be ‘double parking’, but some people see it as ‘not leaving your contact number when double park’… Still don’t get it? How about women getting raped, but people see the problem as not using a condom in the rape. See it now you fucking morons??

If leaving a contact number on the dashboard makes double parking ok, then what’s the point of having parking lots? Why don’t we just fucking leave our cars wherever we want, as long as we leave our contact number on our dashboard? How fucking stupid can you people be?? It vexes me deeply, to think that we actually have some people in the community here think that it is alright to double fucking park the car as long as there’s a contact number left inside the car.

I fucking swear goddamn it, the next time I see a double parking car – even with a contact number left in it – I’m going to fucking break every windscreen/window to release the parking brake and push the damn thing into a ditch.

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May 15, 2016

fucking Nepalese

A couple days ago, my car was blocked by a double parking asshole at a shophouse district parking lot. Unsurprisingly, it was an SUV with a registration plate from KL. Oh you know how it is with those KL folks and their propensity to double park anywhere they like – I’ve written about them here.

I checked the car, and there wasn’t a number left on its dashboard so, I had to go around to look for the owner. By the time it was about 10 minutes, I was starting to get pissed off. Since it was just a stone’s throw away from the nearest guard post, I went there to seek for the guards’ help.

Inside the air conditioned small guard post, were 5 foreign workers whom I reckoned were Nepalese. I could tell because I’ve seen their ilks before when I was with Company X a few years back. They look Chinese with slit eyes but, with much darker complexion like they’ve just been dipped in shit sauce and have these distinctive choking accent when they converse in their shitty Malay.

The 5 of them were happily chatting away inside the guard post (why were the 5 guards manning a post? Escapes me) when I approached them.

Me: “Hi, you see that double parking car there? Can you find the owner? It’s blocking my car.”

Nepalese Guard: “You honk.”

Me: “I already did. So, how can you help me now?”

Nepalese Guard: “I can’t help you, sorry.”

Me: “So you’re just going to sit here and do nothing? And how the hell can you allow people to double park like this??”

Nepalese Guard: *goes back to chatting.

Fucking delinquents. I have nothing against these foreign cibais coming to our country to earn a living, but sometimes, it makes you wonder if these people are really here to work or just simply to sit on their asses lazying around here long enough to make quick bucks. In this case here, the guard (5 of them, for that matter) here is simply a presence with no other pragmatic purpose. The parking ticketing system was automated, and all the guard(s) had to do was to ensure everything was in order. And those 5 pieces of cunts from Nepal failed to even do that by allowing assholes to park like the post apocalyptic scene in The Walking Dead.

Anyway, the matter was resolved by our own after that – my wife Emily found the owner when I was walking back from the guard post. The owner was in one of the pubs nearby – a middle aged Chinese bloke with pockmarked face like Abdullah Badawi, who dressed up like a loanshark wannabe, with a hint of mild brain damage from excessive idling in KL traffic. I let him go without an incident after accepting his apology. But I will never forgive the Nepalese. If I ever become a dictator one day, I’m going to fucking invade Nepal.

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