Two More Reasons to Leave the Shithole.

I met Police Car and Chicken at Marina Square last night. While having dinner the former told me that this year’s NDP will be different from the previous years’ This year’s marching contingent will march 3km in the city area before they go into the parade ground. This means that they will be subjected to public scrutiny.

I was incredulous. It’s been an open secret that our military are not run by the sharpest tools in the shed – although some idiots will disagree – but the level of delusional thinking here is truly astonishing. Do they actually believe that our servicemen are so physically fit?! To march in step and maintain a proper posture while doing so already demand a certain level of coordination and individual skill. To do that for 3km is like...

Unable to control my contempt, I scoffed at this stupid idea. The public will have a hell of a time taking videos of our servicemen unable to keep in step, unable to straighten their arms and slouching like trolls, before posting their videos on YouTube. We may be ruled by a totalitarian regime but China and North Korea we are not. Look at how their soldiers march and then look at ours. We will become an international laughing stock. (I must admit, I will beam with joy when that happens.)

Police Car then said the geniuses in charge of the NDP recognized the limitations of our mighty warriors and came up with a brilliant solution. No more 3km march! 2.8km now!

Fuck! I have a better solution: 3 m! Better still, cancel the fucking event!

After we finished dinner we spent some time at the arcade nearby. We thought about catching a movie. Being the horny bastard he is now, Police Car insisted that we go to GL. He said he didn’t want to spend money. Prior to this he had also said countless times that he is unable to restrain himself once he is in GL. The obvious contradiction meant that one had to give. And it did.

Chicken, who had a motor-bike, reached GL thirty minutes before we did. He called me to report that there were only “60 – 70 cocks” in the CBD but no merchandise. But there was hope. The ice cream seller stationed there – no doubt a man of impeccable morals – informed Chicken that the Chinese merchandise would only display themselves starting from 2330. The fuzz had been causing some inconvenience lately but like all good businessmen, the relations managers had their ways of working around the problem.

So the three of us walked towards the fish tanks for some window-shopping. On our way there we saw a pair of fuzz every 30m. They were doing what they were best at: pretending to do work and wasting taxpayers’ money. The pairs who bothered to “work” either questioned kids or harassed Bangladesh/Indian workers. I should have signed up to be a fuzz instead. Simple job, good pay, a more or less guaranteed contract scheme. Why the Hells did I join the goddamn air force for?! Why get worked like a slave when I can da bao kopi, sit down , talk cock and "keep the peace"?

Anyway, due to the stupid raids, the fish tanks were enjoying their best business in a while. For most of the establishments, only a few whores were available and they reminded me of my classmates. I was absolutely turned off and I expressed my frustration by cursing the fuzz and our sexless regime. A bloke cannot even get his rocks off in this bloody cuntry. Chicken said that if they closed down GL, he would emigrate to Malaysia. I might follow him.

We were tired from walking around so we had drinks at a coffee-shop. While Chicken was talking to his Chinese squeeze on the phone, Police Car and I were accosted by a Thai whore. She sat between us, quite close, and asked my friend if he wanted “to go hotel”. He refused her so she turned to me. I shook my head. It was not difficult to reject her proposal. Except for the one quality which she flaunted, she had no other selling points.

Police Car said that Magneto had gone to Korat. Presumably he has a girlfriend there. Although he is engaged, Magneto clearly does not subscribe to a “one woman” policy. I don’t blame him. His fiancée is a rotund spectacle and probably a dead fish in bed. Any bloke wants good sex with good-looking broads, and when he cannot get it at home he will satisfy his desires elsewhere.

Chicken seemed taken aback at Magneto’s behavior. Gesturing to the attractive Thai merchandise a few tables away, he said that if a bloke had a girlfriend like that he should stay on the straight and narrow. I found the irony quite hilarious, coming from a libertine like him. Both of us know that it is not true. A man will play around, regardless of his partner’s beauty, or lack thereof.

After our drinks we returned to the CBD to try our luck. True to the ice cream seller’s word, at 2230, a pair of whores stood on the sidewalk in front of the Darlene Hotel. They were an hour earlier than the “approved” timing but I must applaud their professionalism and devotion to duty. It’s hard to have employees who report to work an hour early in order to take advantage of the lack of competition. It’s a risky move, but entrepreneurship is all about taking calculated risks. I believe we should learn from them.

In the end, we left GL disappointed. We should have watched a movie instead. Police Car didn’t even patronize the fish tank. It was a waste of our time. The bloody fuzz should just let up a bit. As Police Car argued, even the whores need to eat. So much for free trade in this cuntry.