Recent rant about Jude reminded me of another scary female colleague called ‘Lulu’. This Lulu is way scarier than Jude and I am grateful that I wasn’t assigned to sit beside her.

Now, what’s wrong with Lulu? For one, Lulu’s fucking fat. Not that I am discriminating fat people but, believe me, she’s in a class of her own. Her sheer size would suggest that she probably has a very deep and solid voice that would make one cringe. But that does not seem to be the case. Instead, she has this sharp and shrilling voice that could make one’s balls shrink.

Like Jude, Lulu is also very fond of talking and getting near me. For some strange reasons, these… these… abominations, seem to have the inclination to get near me, I don’t fucking know why. Greeting me with just a simple smile would have been sufficient, but she has to overdo it. Like “Hey Michael. How are you doing? Taken your lunch? bla bla bla “. She would end up standing really close to me, and the next thing I know, I would be fielding off her absurd attempt-to-strike-a-conversation greetings for the next 5 - 10 minutes. Goddamn it.

I had to be nice with them (partly because she has plenty of hot friends). I always greet back with courtesy. But each time I do that, I have to pray that she would leave me alone as fast as possible. It wasn’t really a voluntary thing, so, it’s pretty much meaningless anyway. That’s why whenever I see Lulu (or Jude) around, I will try to get out of her sight and pretend to be heading the opposite direction.

There was once I was caught in the corner and trapped. That day, Lulu came and knocked on my lab door. Apparently, she wanted to borrow a caliper or something. I panicked at the sight of her, knowing that I have no way to escape her. I remember I had to put up my smiling face and asked my lab technician to open the door. It was like in that scary shit classic movie ‘Clash of the Titans’ - when the giant fucking gate opens and the monster Kraken came rushing out of it. When the lab door opened, Lulu came rushing in and yelled “Michael! Michael! I…want.. to … borrow…” - her speech was weirdly truncated because she was hopping like a bunny. That’s right. I don’t know why she did that but, she fucking HOPPED into my lab.

It was damn scary man. To see a blimp hopping like that. I dared not to look at her lards jiggling when she did the hopping. I took a tight grip on my chair and hoped for the worst. If I’m drunk at that moment, I would have grabbed something and throw at her. But I was just stunned that day, and do not know how to react.

I told this incident to many people before, and almost all of them gasped in disbelief. But it was all true. I didn’t make this up.

A few weeks later, when I was having lunch with my China counterpart (coincidentally, Lulu was invited as well), she suddenly came to me and asked, in a serious tone:

“Michael… I heard that someone from your department spread some rumors about me that I hop around like a retard. Do you know who the guy is?”

I did not know whether her question was meant to be sarcastic but, I replied her “Oh, I haven’t heard of such rumors. Did you actually hop around like that then?”. Of course I fucking lied, but she didn’t get my sarcasm. Oh well.

She never bothered me after that again. Good for me.

I work in a very large company. Like any other executives, I am provided a notebook computer. And because my company also manufactures notebooks, we’re all subjected to stringent security clearance, each time we have a notebook taken out of the premise. Everyday.

I was going through that check yesterday, by this lady security guard with a headscarf. Let’s call her ‘Terung’ for convenience’ sake. Now this Terung is actually no stranger to me. She has been our security for many months and she even knows my name already.

“Hi Michael” she would usually greet me. And she did the exact same thing yesterday.

She took my notebook carrying case and opened it up. But when she was doing that, my nose suddenly caught something pungent, and I was immediately stunned. I reflexed by taking 2 steps aback. I did not know where the smell came from. Smelled something like a wet dog who haven’t bathed for many months. But there wasn’t anyone around at that time… except Terung. And then I saw a table fan behind her, blowing towards my direction… and I went “Oh my fucking god” and held my breath.

Then, she asked for my pass to clear the notebook. I was still holding my breath when I had to go near her to show her my badge (the pass was on the badge). I thought I could just show her the damn thing and bolt straight away, but she made things complicated by not allowing an immediate clearance. That was because right at that time, a dude came over to inquire about something and that robbed me off some precious seconds there (though I have to admit, those seconds felt like hours…)

As I was about to turn purple, she finally cleared off the inquiring dude and my notebook and got me off the malodor hook. I immediately fled the stinking place… did not look back. Some fucking experience there.

I have made a solemn vow from then on, that if I ever see Terung on duty at main the entrance again, I’m gonna fucking stay back at workplace till the next shift commences.

Damn.

I just came back from a late dinner with Emily — and encountered a bitter experience that involves driving skills, housewife, mockery, derision and vandalism. Here are the details of what happened (quite a lengthy post):

I was strolling along Carrefour’s big ass car park for a place to park and found a perfect one. As usual, I checked if there was anyone waiting for the seemingly vacant lot, you know, to avoid any conflict of interest. When the course was certified clear, I got myself ready to take the place.

But I didn’t know that a silver car (a Waja) was waiting to reverse into that lot, from about a good 20 feet away. I saw the car moments ago when I was scoping for conflict but, the car was too far away to look like it was reversing into the lot. It looked more like it was waiting for someone than anything, that was because it didn’t turn on its indicator, no reverse light, nothing.

I only knew that the car was vying for that lot after I have :
a) parked my car,
b) alighted from my vehicle,
c) did a few banters with Emily,
d) and walked some distance towards the hypermart…

I walked for about 10 feet or so, when I saw a lady in that freaking Waja engages the reverse gear. She was with a small toddler. When she realized that the spot was gone (only after she reversed 3/4 of the way), she turned her attention to me with a hostile look and started honking like I’ve just stolen the spark plugs from her placenta.

Not knowing what happened, I stooped low to check her out - you know, I thought she was in trouble or something. Maybe her son was chocking or, he tits got stuck on the steering wheel. Anyway, I was in for a surprise when I saw her giving me that mad gesture that I had parked her place, all the while honking like a mad bitch. Though I couldn’t hear what she was yelling, but I could clearly make out that she included a lot of profanities in her language. I couldn’t imagine what kind of parent she was to do that in front of her kid. I was pissed of course, and I responded back by gesturing ‘you didn’t put on your indicator, to let everyone know that you wanted the lot, you were waiting 20 fucking feet away!’

The bitch did not seem to care whatever I was gesticulating and was obstinate that she was in the right. Not intending to provoke that mad woman any further, I decided to walk away. But I she wouldn’t move on, and cars were starting to pile up behind her (because she reverse-positioned her car in such slanting way that it blocked the entire lane) and she was getting honked left right center. Eventually, she had no choice but to look for another place to park and that happened right before I was entering into the hypermart premise. But that was not the last I heard of her…

After returning from my dinner, I discovered 2 long fresh scratches on the hood of my car. 1st one was about 6 inches long, and second one, was about the length of my middle finger. I was so incensed when I saw those scratches…

What I couldn’t understand is - what had she achieve by vandalizing my car? 3 things:
1) to prove herself that she’s a fucking idiot.
2) set a bad example to her kid - “Look, mommy just scratched somebody’s car… how cool is that?”
3) expose herself the risk of getting walloped if she ever get caught of committing vandalism in public.

I was literally pissed, and I could have waited for the bitch to show up from Carrefour - I just wasn’t mad enough. I was planning to give that car a paint job anyway, or even sell it off in a few months - besides, the scratches were just minor additions to the collection of scratches I already had on my hood (bad neighborhood). But the story could have caused a different outcome if she were to vandalize my new Michelin tires instead. I would have gone postal to wreck every single silver colored Waja in the entire parking lot. And was glad that didn’t have to happen.

So what can I do now? Nothing, but to curse that bitch. I wish for her anus to rot and get infested with flesh eating maggots (hopefully, the same size of the scratches she induced) that will her ass off.

Lesson learnt: If you ran into any sort of altercation with another motorist, remember to jot that asshole’s car registration number down. Might be useful later.

There was once a friend sent me a URL while I was shirking around the office. Thinking that it might be something of interest, I clicked at the URL without giving much thought. It was a flash site, and not long after it started loading, a scene of a cartoonish old woman appeared… and then it happened.

All out of a sudden, my speaker blasted out this ‘ketchup song’ loud. It went like, “Le je… Le je…” or something, and the granny started to do some really absurd hand flailing dance on my screen (full screen). The most unfortunate thing was, I had this Altec Lansing home theater system hooked up on my office table, and as a result of that, half the office actually heard what was going on in my cube.

For a second or two, I didn’t know what to do. I was literally stunned. And then panic sets in, and I was fumbling to find a way to close the fucking thing from doing further damage. But because I was panicking, nothing seemed to work. The ketchup song would continue to pump out loud through the entire office floor. Curious heads started to pop up from cubes to see who was sledgehammering the office with a loud-fucking-speaker… I continued to look for ways to end the whole thing and finally, decided to unplug my Altec Lansing speaker to stop the whole disastrous episode from jeopardizing my career.

And there it was… the granny… still doing her ketchup dance on my screen, with sounds unplugged. But the damage had already been done. Some of my colleagues were already annoyed… while some were laughing at my ass off for being such a dolt. My reputation went down a few notches after that day. But then, I was very grateful, now that I think that the situation could have been worse. If it was porn that I was loading, and the noise projected out from my speaker were to be pornstars moaning in climax… I would have lost my fucking job right away.

Hate it when things like this happens. Sites with intrusive sounds. Man those shit should be made illegal. They make our lives difficult.

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.