Thursday, February 23, 2006

Life sucks... well sort off.

Does life suck? Well, when you realize no one gets out of it alive, it does put a dampener on everything (well, at least for a while).

That’s not really the main issue I guess, come to think of it, I’m just feeling down. Life’s been sucking waaaay too much stuff from me. Energy, money and more money. I need money, hence I work. Then I realize I need money to work, but the work isn’t coming around to bringing money into my hands as and when I may need it. This is one major suck effect some people call a vicious circle. Anyway, it sucks so much I just need to blow it off.

I thought about it, first thing babies want to do when they come into the world, is suck. Kinda rings an ironical bell of impending warning of a life sucking future, doesn’t it? Well, maybe not for some lucky ones, I guess, like Paris Hilton. But her special video does demonstrate other forms of sucking in her life.

On another note, men may complain how it sucks that they are sometimes expected to treat women when they go for dinner or for some drinks. But we have to be fair to the fairer sex, after all, they need to save that money for stuff men don’t need to buy. Cosmetics and sanitary pads.

See, it all balances out, it sucks for both sexes.

By the way, if you happen to think there are men who buy cosmetics. I should assert that those aren’t men. They probably suck.

Scientifically, the laws of thermodynamics do point this out to us. They can be summed up quite simply as the following statements;

"You must play the game."

"You can't win."

"You can't break even."

"You can't quit the game."

Does that suck or what? Actually, the Bible, does tell us something about this too. After all, when Adam did what he did, God made it pretty clear, everything’s really gonna suck from then on.

Think I’ll have to eat less for now. At least that might actually help me lose some weight. That should allow me to hold on to more cash, and perhaps go out for a drink. That’s sounds pretty good I guess.

Hey, wait a minute. I just remembered that drinking can make me fat. Damn, this really sucks.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Mass Rancid Transit

Damn near fainted today.

Just finished meeting with some people to discuss the sale of their home, and well, things didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. Work sucks, but I guess I can't jolly well stop, since I need the money. Sad thing is I don't necessarily get money for working. Thats the frustration one gets after some time with no pay. I'm practically broke and soon I'll have to consider the lucrative gigolo career. Well, maybe after some intense plastic surgery, but that requires money, so I guess thats another highway to nowhere.

Decided to go home, so into the MRT train I went. Along with me, came hordes of noisy schoolgirls. And one really BIG sweaty guy. By the natural law of probabilities, he squeezes right next to me in the crowd, while I try to avoid molesting the pretty lady on the other side of me. I was wondering how the train got to smell this bad, and of course it turned out to be the big sweaty guy. It couldn't get worse. Then it happened. He raised his arm to support himself on the top rail, blessing me with a continuous whiff of a smell I can never describe.

It seemed like ages for the train to reach the next station, I just wanted to get away. By the time I got off the train to catch the next one, I had a headache that threatened to turn me bald.

Packed trains are just full of people you never knew could piss or set you off in so many new ways. Next time, I'm gonna just take a taxi. Oh wait, I can't. That means spending more money. Damn. I need a drink. Damn, money again. Oh wait, I just remembered the whiskey at home. Yeah. At least some things end on a good note.


Sunday, February 05, 2006


Disclaimer: Some of the words used within this particular blog, like the word "fuck" and its derivatives are actually found in the 'scholarly' dictionary, and used herewith for its emphasis value only. If you find it otherwise after reading the blog, and find them vulgar and lewd, you're probably a lewd and vulgar person, to be able to place more meaning into what I intended. As for the other descriptions, I also learnt them from the same dictionary, so please complain to the publishers, and leave me alone.

I am pissed. And not just really pissed, but fuckin' pissed off right now. So I’m going to say that there shall be quite a disproportionate number of references to some very interesting words that may make some women blush and others, probably turned on.

It’s about an hour past midnight and the dark night is cool and beautiful. Of course something or someone always fucks it up somehow and tonight, I smell something burning. Damn fucking idiots burning their paper shit again, but I figured I’ll just ignore the smell and do whatever I was doing.

Of course, things never get better, do they? Things get a little blurry in my home, oh great. And wow, I’m beginning to cough too, wonderful. Oh yeah, I’m getting a fucking headache. Just beautiful, the night has turned into one smokin’ bitch with a major period.

I take a look out the window and see beautiful fires burning all over the bloody neighbourhood. Smoke rising from them fucking fires, straight up into the homes of other people. Like me. Oh great, look there’s some asshole burning shit right at the stairwell leading to my home. No wonder I’m getting a personal shit load of fucking smoke. It’s at these moments that I understand why guns are illegal.

There we have the government trying to limit the number of places people can smoke, so non-smokers won't get to breathe smoke, and I totally understand that since ciggies do stink. But here fuckers burn so much shit, and its ok. What the fuck?! I almost hope they deeply inhale the fucking smoke they are responsible for and join their fucking relatives soon.

Trying not to be disrespectful, but I always wonder about this thing about burning stuff to dead people. Lets imagine if it were real, I mean who the fuck knows who gets what after the fucking paper crap is burnt and sent to hell? Its not like they write the names of recipients on the shit they burn. Of course another reason could be they're burning shit to some god of pollution.

I remember watching some people who looked, and I guess they only looked intelligent, some time back, burning a paper house, a paper car and two paper women and lots’a other fuck shit. Soon they’ll come up with all sorts’a fucking shit to burn, and stupid fucks are going to burn them anyway. Who’s knows, soon they’ll get to burn a paper dildo for their female ancestors. I just hope they remember to burn some paper batteries for it too.

I hear it was for their grandfather. Then I see them placing some nice roasted chickens on the altar. I thinking, man, if they believe their ol’ grandpappy’s gonna be at the altar, he’s going to one fucking angry ghost.

Just imagine what the poor dead old man’s gonna be saying?

“Fuckers, never burn any fucking teeth for me, how you expect me to eat the fucking chicken? What the fuck am I supposed to do? Lick the fucking chicken?

“Oh yeah, great, burn me a fucking paper Mercedes Benz, yeah, and you forgot to put in the fucking engines. What the fuck, you want me to push the fucking thing around? Where the fuck am I supposed to get fuel for the fucking car anyway? Does it run on ghostly piss? And why the fuck is the car so fucking small?

“And don’t even start me talking about the fucking three storey bungalow. It’s not much bigger than the fucking car. My head won't even fit through the bloody fucking door. And what’s this with the two ugly paper bitches? Can’t they burn paper hoes who look like Fiona Xie?”.

I still have a throbbing headache, and not the kinda throbbing head I really prefer. Fucking assholes. They should have some small deserted island for this shit burning.