Heard this from the radio this morning: “Why aren’t there enough Malaysians fly the national flag on their vehicles?” (or something like that).

Thought it’d be interesting for me to answer that myself – Why haven’t I displayed a flag on my car before?

There’s only one reason to that – I couldn’t be bothered. So what if it’s National Day? The only thing that I acknowledge about National Day, is that it’s a day which I don’t have to work and don’t have to contend with those Down Syndromish people at my workplace. That’s the only thing that matters to me.

If you’re thinking that this sticking flag business is all about patriotism, well, you’re damn wrong. The truth is, it’s all about parting the money off your wallet here. Like, a few bucks for a crudely made plastic flag. What a rip off. It used to cost about 20 cents a flag, and even that comes with candies inside the hollow (and transparent) tubular flag holder.

I ain’t paying my hard earned money for a grossly overpriced flag, which aren’t going to benefit me in any way. This is akin to squandering for things that I don’t need. After paying for all the taxes, bills, loans, traffic summonses and other expenditures, I don’t have much left to ‘squander’ about. Definitely not for a good-for-nothing plastic flag. (Yes, I can afford an overpriced car, but not an overpriced plastic flag. Call me a miser if you want, not that I care anyway).

Like I’ve said before, I’m not a patriotic person. I was born at a post war era, at a time when it was already peaceful, when freedom is already a way of life and also when my country doesn’t require me to die for ‘her’. In the world I was brought up (I don’t know about yours), it’s all about moolah. Moolah to feed your family. Moolah to reimburse your innocence (traffic summonses, fines, lawyer fees). Moolah to feel better (medical fees, insurance, etc). Moolah to get yourself literate. Moolah to even up the inflation. Moolah to live your life. The list goes on.

As you can see, I have little room left to be patriotic. I appreciate this country, terribly much, yes… but I’m not patriotic to it. I have other priorities than being patriotic. If I were to be patriotic, I’m gonna ‘patriotize’ my ass to the one and only thing that gives me EVERYTHING I need to survive in this life. Moolah. Money. Sorry my country, I love you, but not much enough to be called a ‘patriot’. If you happen to become rotten with corrupted politicians one day and were to ever come to a juncture when living happily is practically impossible, I’m gonna have to move to a better place for the sake of my own family and myself. There won’t be any qualms.

But however, if flying flags is that important for you, well, perhaps you can change things around a bit with money. Waive someone off the taxes and improve his standard of living, I bet that person would be more than happy enough to fly a thousand flags for you. He can even be a patriot too, if you want, for a price of course.

But I’d rather fly a kite, at least it’s way more fun.

What the fuck is wrong with you girls, huh? What’s with the fluorescent mini flare skirt and that repulsive looking triple strapped Japanese schoolgirl blouse? Don’t you people have a sense of fashion no more?

You motherfucking cheebye Teriyaki bitches, please do us people a favor, go kill yourself and make the world a better place.

*Teriyaki girls/bitches/biddies/hags = a new term to describe somebody (a female) who has a poor sense of dressing up like a fictional doll, 20 years behind her real age.*

We have waaaaayyyy too many Teriyaki bitches around in Company X. Gotta find a way to snuck a burner beneath that skirt and toast a beaver or two…

I sent this to the World’s Local Bank today…

*****

I would like to voice my dissatisfaction about a recent bad experience with HSBC service.

Today, I was trying to transfer a certain amount of fund to a third party (who owns a HSBC acc) through your Internet transfer function. But however, when I was trying to do that, I was prompted with a message that my transfer limit has been reduced to Zero and was given a 1300 number to call.

I called the number and after being made to wait for approximately long enough to cook a pack of instant noodles, I was greeted with a helpdesk personnel who couldn’t seem to help me at all with my transfer problems. He later asserted that my transfer limit has been reset to ZERO due to my inactivity in transferring money to any third party accounts for more than 1 year, and subsequently, nulled my transfer capability. In order to regain my account’s online transfer capability, I’ll have to reinstate my transfer limit with the bank.

I asked if there’s anything the online guy can somehow help me reinstate that transfer limit, I was asked for my telebanking pin number (which I don’t remember, since i have been doing my banking ONLINE for the past couple years). I have my internet security clearance, my ATM pin and even all the information about my own self to prove that I am me, but I still need the goddamn telebanking pin to get my transfer limit set.

I asked again if he could help me get the pin, he said I need to personally go to the bank to get that. How convenient is that. All the troubles, so that I can comfortably sit on my chair to do my internet banking. Wow. I then politely thanked that helpdesk vegetable and hung up.

Then, I found a ‘request telebanking pin’ at the menu on your online banking page on the left. I lit up like a bulb and clicked on it. Lo and behold, I was prompted with that 1300 number again – WHICH, I had already called earlier (and already learnt that it’s useless). I got frustrated and gave up on everything. I finally changed my mind about transferring that amount of money to my friend who’s probably starving to death waiting for that CD-R money he paid in advance for my squandering ass. Good for you HSBC, you’ve just psychologically influenced me to change my mind on executing an action in reality through your bureaucratic mind-numbing requirements.

I was wondering, what is the logic behind such a ridiculous rule (that stupid one year inactivity rule). If I had already set a limit previously, and why in the world would I want it to be nulled a year later? If I want it nulled, I would have told you myself, right? The purpose of online banking is to have that convenience of being able to exercise my banking at home, anytime at my discretion. Now this rule, voids that purpose.

If this is about security, then haven’t you guys already implemented that battery operated security code doohickey for us to press at to get online? Isn’t that supposed to prevent terrorists from unrightfully transfer our hard earned money into their camel’s account somewhere in the Middle east? I really do not get this.

This, clearly, is not my idea of a good customer experience. Probably this feedback of mine matters not to you, since I’m not a millionaire who’s going to make any difference to your corporate wealth reserve or something. But the least I think what can happen, is a few more unhappy customers like me, would relate our negative views to our relatives and friends, who in turn, would do the same to their friends too, and the idea would exponentially ramifies into a larger audience, and by then, all your credit card salespeople would have to peddle for pirated DVDs to make up for the lost income. It wouldn’t be good.

So, I hope that you – whoever’s logging this feedback message – would take this seriously, and use it to improve your future service.

Some new tenant moved into the unit above our apartment a few weeks ago. How did we know? Because of the change in the acoustic pattern of somebody walking above our head. From basically nothing, to THUMP THUMP THUMP. Twenty four fucking hours (apparently, they never sleep). It’s really annoying for the first few days, but after a while, we kinda grew accustomed to it.

So, life goes on.

Last week, the new tenant(s), started a whole new level of their noise making flair. This time, it’s CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK, of something being repeatedly hit with a heavy mallet. Sometimes, there were even sounds of furniture being dragged across the floor. Like they’ve just discovered the laws of physics and vibrations there. Initially we thought maybe these people were just adjusting their new furniture, you know, since they’ve just moved in not long ago and all that. So, we compromised, and thought that it would be over soon when they’re done with it.

But we were wrong.

The knockings not only became more constant, but louder as well. There were a few times, Regine got jolted up from her sleep and scared the living shit out of her. As a result, she began to suffer some kind of an insomnia, and eventually developed colic. Emily, being the most affected by all the commotion, decided to confront the bunch of uncivilized apes, lest that our daughter would grow up to be emotionally disturbed. She went up there, and subtly threw them a courteous but sarcastic remarks

“Hi I’m your neighbor from the unit below yours. I noticed that you people have been knocking on something for the past few nights… I was wondering, if you can knock a little less harder? That’s because the noise is scaring the shit out of my infant daughter and it keeps waking her from her sleep.” [wide smile]

(the tenants comprised of 3 individuals: 2 blimp guys and a skeletal chick whom my mom described as ‘extremely repugnant looking piece of shit’)

They kinda complied, but there were still occasional furniture dragging. We kinda gave up on that one. After all, they’re just renting the place. You can’t expect those people to be considerate just because you have a sleeping baby. (being sensitive to noise is part and parcel of having a baby)

Again, we lived with it.

But this morning, something happened. I discovered a dent mark on my car door, which I was absolutely positive, was induced by those retarded lowlife tenants. How so?
a) Their parking lot is next to mine (yes, very unfortunate indeed)
b) That fucking neighbor always park his car overlapping my lot, leaving a narrow space not big enough to even fit a midget.
c) I check my car for dents each time I alight my car, and the dent wasn’t there the last time I checked it.
d) I haven’t parked anywhere else except my workplace and my own parking lot for the past 1 month. My workplace lot is wide enough to park 1.5 cars and is ‘immune’ to swiveling door hits.
e) The dent mark MATCHES the height and swiveling radius of the tenant’s car.

I’m so fucking upset about the whole shebang right now. Having had to put up with those mongoloids at my workplace and enough asshole neighbors, now I had to deal with these neanderthals from hell. Why can’t just everyone be like any average civilized person? What the fuck is wrong with all these people? Why are there so many pricks inside my world?

I’m finding it more and more difficult to blend into the way of our society. It’s debilitating me off all the positive aspects of life. I don’t find interacting with a fellow human pleasant anymore. I’d rather do it with a lizard. At least I can expect a lizard to be less intelligent, and I know it won’t be able to wreck my car in any way (unless it was unfortunate enough to stuck in between the valves, which might fuck the engine…)

I have a hunch, that I’m not going to be a very healthy person when I grow old. Either I’m gonna fucking die out of stroke, or I’m going to develop an acute depression complex that’s gonna make me a psycho going postal around the neighborhood. Perhaps I should stop taking everything in life too personal. Maybe I should take drugs haze up my brain or something.

Right now, I’m thinking of how to confront those cavemen after work today. The medieval way? Or the white collar way.

You people pay taxes and shits, just so that our country would prosper. Just so that our life would get better. Just so that our youngs get enough education, and be that much wiser to LEAD and do better than what we’ve all been doing. And we hope that the process would repeat itself perpetually for subsequent generations, braving through the uncertainty of future and paving over the hardships of the past (whatever lah)

But we have a problem here. What if our children are too fucking stupid to pick up the baton and pass along? Instead of appreciating the peace that their forefathers have fought for them, they misuse their wisdom to fight for lost causes, such as some absurd “pro-establishment something something”, and go around heckling other students (girls, emaciated pale looking blokes), citing abusive remarks and even resorting to violence.

Just like that bunch of idiots at UPM. The bunch of thug looking pieces of shits that have nothing better to do, but to riot like they’re going against the Malayan Union and communist pigs. Trashing around the university cafeteria, shouting like vagabonds, acting like hooligans. Is that what you people want your children to become? And they still think they’re damn cool and are doing the country a favor. What a hopeless bunch of jerks.

If you still don’t know what is happening here, I suggest you check out this article, and this video here (it’s a 10MB video, but worth the download. To download, right click on the link, and select “Save Link As” if you’re on FireFox, and “Save Target As” if you’re on Internet Explorer).

I’d suggest you people spread the news around. Check on your friends and children. Don’t let them be like this. Lecture them, confront them, sedate them if you must. But don’t let them ever behave like this in public. It will be an embarrassment to your family. To your culture. To our nation. To mankind.

Now, I’ll definitely gonna think twice before hiring anyone from UPM (those face that I recognize from the video? They aren’t going to get any job from me. That’s for sure.)

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