I’ve never had a normal neighbor before. I’ve had many neighbors, and they were all either psychotic or dipshits.

I know some of you smartasses might say that the problem probably lies with me instead of them. Ok, maybe it has all along been me - but then, how could I be so wretched when all I ever did was to keep quiet and mind my own business? So, obviously, this isn’t about me. It’s about them degenerates.

One of the most wretched neighbor that I ever had was that old Indian lady that lived next to my family circa 1990 - 1999. We didn’t know much about her except that she was an immigrant from India and doesn’t speak any of our local language here. That wasn’t really a problem for us because we didn’t give a flying fuck about her.

But there was something not right about this old Indian hag. She had this penchant of rearing chickens in her yard… which was only a thin fence’s away from our garden. It wouldn’t be an issue at all had her chickens been behaving normal. But then, her chickens seemed to have somekind of dysfunctional biological clocks… that made them cluck and crow boisterously day/night without stop.

Imagine about 20 over chickens doing the same thing. They were like having their own heavy metal concert at every fucking awakening moment. I was especially affected by her chickens because the thing was right in front of my room window! With the odor and noise stressing my patience everyday, it wasn’t long before I started to lose my shit and took some initiatives of my own to settle the problem. When the chickens got really noisy, I would spray them with water jets from my garden hose. It didn’t really help with the noise but, it kind of helped me to vent out properly and averted myself from imploding with rage.

Then, after about a couple of years going through the same thing, the situation got worst. The old hag started to feed her chickens with stale rice and rotten dishes that she collected from around the village. And when the chickens couldn’t them all in time, the food would decompose and would emanate some fetid stench around the area. It was fucking horrible. If you want to imagine how was it like, just think of living next to a big garbage dump full of rotten organic stuff.

My mom once got so pissed off, that she bought a container full of toxic floor cleaner and poured it into the chicken feed - in hope that it would kill the chickens. But the effort was futile. The chickens seemed to oblivious to any kind of threat, and would live on getting healthier each day (and noisier).

Then not long after that, she began to collect pieces of discarded zinc roofs in her yard. It didn’t take very long for that place to become a haven for rats, roaches and other vermin alike. It was the darkest period for our family right then.

Of course, my parents attempted to talk to the Indian hag about the problems, but each time my parents did that, the old misfit would shun us off… pretending not being able to understand our language. And we had to live with the inconveniences of being her neighbor for a few more years, before our family got into a big ass feud and everyone moved the fuck out of the wretched hellhole.

Have to go for my physiotherapy session again tonight. I am sick of looking at that same physiotherapist’s face again. If my physiotherapist is a good looking girl, than it wouldn’t have been that wretched.

But then, they do have an attractive looking nurse. The thing is, she’s off to some place for vacation or something like that recently… and was replaced by a horizontally wider nurse. Goddamn. I had to lie inside a room going through 40 over minutes worth of pulse generator and ultrasound therapy with that blimp. What a big drag.

I could have used the time for something more productive — like playing games, watching the tv or even blogging. During the therapy, I would be left alone static, with too much time thinking of stuff. Now that I’ve gone through this so many times… I’m now running out of stuff to think. It’s cruel having so much time idling. This is not healthy.

I just hope that I will get well sooner and never have to visit the stupid physio clinic again. (unless they hire more pretty nurses…)

This is Michael rambling reporting from inside his office, shirking off to pass the final 10 minutes before he goes home.

Ok. I hate to admit this but, I have a ‘boss’. Nope, not my workplace boss but, a ‘boss’ outside. You know, the one that covers me when I’m in trouble? Yeah.

Well, some of my friends always bash me up with concerns, how could a fine person like myself can end up with such troubles. What can I do? I am living in a challenging world out here, and without the ‘boss’, I surely would not have survived that long.

The protection that the boss gave doesn’t come free of course. I have to pay monthly fee to sustain the service… and there’s no bailing out unless I clear all my debts. He has an organization not to be messed with. With his networks of cohorts, and other connections, it’s virtually impossible to escape from his clasp once you’re in.

*Sigh* My mom always reminds me not to mix up with bad company like this, but it really is not that I refuse to listen to her. It’s just that, I was pushed to a dead end and had no choice but to submit to this. I am in so much trouble now. Me and my stupid ass. I could have lived a much more carefree life without this. No more sleepless nights and worries.

[Tears rolling down my cheeks]. Oh, is there anyone out there willing to help me get out of this mess? Please? Does anyone care anymore?

The boss I was referring to = Citibank. I just came home from settling a fraction of my credit card debts. [wiping my tears away]

My ailing knee is getting worse and I finally went for another checkup today. The physiotherapist recommended for an MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) scan, as he suspected that I might have a torn ligament. I was about to tell him that my pocket’s torn too, and if this is going to cost me a leg, then I might as well live with the ailing knee. But before I could tell him that, he told me of a good news - that both the scan and treatment are fully claimable with my medical insurance.

Since I do not have to pay a single cent, I agreed to go for the scan. I had to travel to another location in town to do it.

Once I was inside the MRI clinic, I was greeted by 2 young nurses. One of the nurses, gave me a set of verbal questionnaire prior the scan. I was made to answer all sorts of questions - am I a smoker? did I pierce my body parts? do I have earrings or any metal parts inside my body? And of course, all my answers were ‘No’. But the nurse kept repeating the ‘body piercing’ question, as if she couldn’t believe that I’m clean. Maybe I looked like a punk to her. Whatever.

Then I was led into a room where the other nurse asked me to change to a green robe. The green robe was the type where you’re to wear it by slotting in through the front. Like a semi-poncho or something. And I looked ridiculous with that thing on. I looked like a dolt in it, especially with a shower cap on (yes, they made me wear a shower cap as well). I was then ushered towards a small room, and while I was walking along the long corridor, I heard some giggling behind me. I was the nurses. They’re laughing at me from behind, probably because my ass was exposed from behind (the stupid robe)… It was humiliating (now that I think of it, I should have ripped a badass fart right then)

Once I was in the MRI scan room, I was asked to lie down on a flat table and had my leg strapped like I was about to be raped or something. Once the strap was secured, I was electrically conveyed into a machine that resembled a giant coffee maker. Once I was inside there, the doctor bellowed through the microphone to ask me “Stop moving or your scan will be affected”. I wasn’t even moving, I was strapped… remember? I had to lie down very still for 40 minutes, half naked and it was cold. My nipples were rock hard and my strapped leg was numb. For the first time in my life, I felt like a lab rat… all for that stupid knee.

Well, fast forward an hour later, I finally got out of there and got the result. The scan revealed that my knee suffered some kind of condition called ‘plica syndrome’ (no it’s not a form of retardation you motherfucking cheebye). The doctor tried to explain in detail to me but I could not register anything at all. So, the layman term that I would use to describe my knee is - a fucked up knee that doesn’t need no surgery. And that’s good enough for me. I just need to take some medication and follow 10 sessions of physiotherapy to make it well again.

But it means nothing much to me. All I wanted was a good night sleep. The knee had caused enough sleepless night for me… and if this doesn’t work, I’m gonna have to fucking die.

I went to have my leg massaged by a traditional Chinese chiropractor yesterday. The place was located at a ghetto neighborhood and I was quite uncomfortable with some the dipshit customers there. Amidst the rude stares, I felt like I was not really welcomed there. Or perhaps it was just me - like, it’s the 21st fucking century goddamn it! What the fuck am I doing here in some uncertified self-proclaimed Chinese ‘doctor’ here??

Anyway, it was quite a crowd last night and I had to wait. Since it was in the residence of the doctor, all of us were made to wait in his living room, together with his family. The only thing to do, was to watch some stupid show on the TV… and the Chinese witch doctor’s obnoxious son running around. Mom and Emily were chatting by themselves, and I was all by myself. So I was kinda like switching my attention around - looking at weird people, watching stupid TV and amuse myself watching a kid pulling stunts. I was bored.

Then came this really weird teenage girl. The girl had a really high pitched voice, I could already hear her voice before she even made her appearance. She came barging in like there was something really urgent going on and started to rummage through the living room. It didn’t quite look like an emergency to me because she was giggling while doing it. I wasn’t quite sure what was that all about but, she got my attention alright. She’d rummage for about a few minutes before she finally found what she was looking for - a weighing scale. (WTF???)

As if it’s not bizarre enough, the girl then plopped the scale right in front of the TV (obscuring the view) and weighted herself right in front of everyone. She then gave out an even bigger giggle and remarked “Oh… I gained some weight! I wasn’t that heavy yesterday!” Yeah, must be the grass growing inside her head. I was thinking, FUCK - if she really wanted that much attention, she could have stripped herself naked and take a hike somewhere. It wouldn’t have been looked so fucking desperate.

Anyway, my turn came after waiting for approximately 15minutes. The chiropractor turned out to be a young chap in his early 30’s. I explained to him in detail about my injury and problems. Looking quite confident - he began his work by giving me a series of massage on my left leg. After about 5 minutes, he asked me if I felt any better. When I told him it was all the same, he got upset. Then he tried a different way of doing it… and repeated the same question, and I replied the same thing again — it’s the same. It was as if he’s tuning my like some sort of mechanical device… and asked me if he’d fixed it. FUCK.

But he never could ‘fix’ it. Then he stood up and went across the room and got himself this extension cord. My mom panicked and whispered to me “I think he’s going to electrocute your leg!” and gave me that this really concerned look. She scared me of course, and if such was the case - I would have chosen to peel off instead. But luckily, the power cord was just for a heating machine to heat up my knee join, to assist blood circulation - he said.

I was made to sit there with that heater thing baking over my knee joint while he continued his chiropractic work on other patients. Quite interesting I must say… to be able to see him twist limbs and bones of various kinds of ailments. He seemed to be quite skillful seeing as a third person what he did - but still, unable to solve my knee problem. The heater treatment was a flop. That was when the chiropractor gave up and bade me good luck.

And that was it. The chiropractor couldn’t solve my knee problem. Wasted my time there. FUCK. What is wrong with my knee??? Sigh.