'And that xiao lian turn a Heaven into Hell!' - Shakespeare (Hokkien version).
Here's to Ris Low, OLE!
I experienced my first earthquake – or rather tremor – in my existence yesterday. I was in the office when I suddenly felt my vision shift. At first I thought I was going to have one of those unexplained collapses which seem to plague young fit people, but then I realized from the commotion in the office that my demise was not going to occur at that particular moment.
Everybody was getting excited and in a short while the office was mostly vacated. My colleague, my boss and I discussed a bit about earthquakes and how this shithole has the occasional tremor. It was no big deal really. Much as I dislike this shithole, I must admit that the buildings here have firm structural integrity, unlike those flophouses in China. There was really no need to worry about. The building was not going to collapse. Furthermore, if we were feeling nervous over such a tiny tremor, what of those sorry bastards who were caught in the earthquake? Whatever. I was quite exited. My first earthquake! Yippy!
***
Having decided that my mental health takes precedence over attending classes at UniShit, I gave my Political Economy (Brainwashing) of ASEAN (for Singaporeans) lecture a miss. I asked Chicken and Police Car out and there was only one place three free spirits would go and that was GL.
Despite the fact that there was plenty of people dying in our neighboring country, we could not really be bothered – an attitude shared by the unwashed masses that thronged the best district of Singapore. Once again, this demonstrates that we can never truly feel compassion for people whom we do not know. We may know that they are suffering; on an intellectual level we know we should feel some pity for them, but until we meet with the same grisly fate ourselves, we just cannot give a shit. Moralists and those…humanists will deny the truth of course, but they, like all others, are just hypocrites beneath their moralistic facade. A lie, a delusion, and a travesty.
Anyway, Chicken arrived late because he had to have dinner with his Chinese squeeze. While waiting for him to get his hen-pecked ass over Police Car and I shot the shit. We both agreed that marriage is pointless when you end up like you are in an open prison. He told me about his Indian friend who earns a slave wage of $800 as a pet-shop assistant. As if this sad bastard is not sad enough, he has to give all his money to his wife, who then gives him back an allowance of $5 a day. He is a disgrace to all males. I thought my hen-pecked friends were bad. This sad sack has got to be the champion. He is the Special One.
Chicken arrived 40 minutes into our shit-shooting session and we shot more shit over dinner. After we finished our slop, I took them to the carpark where I wandered to while I was waiting for them. There were around 5-8 Chinese strumpets hanging around, shooting horny bastards sly looks and at times accosting them. They were the quality of the $60 price range and charged $50 an hour. I applaud their entrepreneurship. Seeing how wretched our economy is, they have lowered prices to stimulate more business. Unlike those overfed whoresons in Africa and Wall Street, they do not ask for handouts and/or bailouts. While the quality of their service might be questionable, one must applaud them for displaying integrity and dignity in the midst of this difficult time. These are what I call Foreign TALENT.
Police Car, Chicken and I checked out the fish tanks after we were done with our inspection of the carpark. The regime-approved establishments were enjoying brisk business but we still managed to find a few goods to ogle. There was a new establishment across the street from the fish tanks. They peddled high quality merchandise, who were dressed in evening dresses. Not the cheap Thai merchandise you can get for $50. The establishment looked quite pricey, and probably was. At any rate, competition will only benefit the consumers and I say the banks should be generous in providing credit to deserving entrepreneurs like these.
While wandering around the back lanes, we were accosted by this disreputable-looking fellow who told us to ‘just take a look with no obligations’. We followed him and he took us to a gate, behind of which appeared two Thai working class girls. The place was dark and relatively secluded; the fuzz would not think of patrolling there. I was not impressed with the aesthetic quality of the goods but Police Car was excited. Without further ado he picked out the one in black and proceeded to have his wicked way with her.
Chicken and I then walked to the CBD area to wait for him to conclude his business transaction. There was sadly no goods on display in the area and I fear that they will not emerge any time soon. After half an hour, Police Car returned, complaining that the hussy didn’t allow him to lick her rack and the room where they went to was squalid. You get what you pay for, mate.
After that we had a drink at a nearby coffeeshop. They had the telly on and it was showing a re-run of ‘The Return of the Condor Heroes’, starring Christopher ‘F1 Racer’ Lee and Fann ‘Flat’ Wong. While I agree that they deserved each other, I hope that they will not think of procreating. Our bad gene pool does not need more…variety.
***
I nearby threw my Fixed Income Security textbook and notes down the rubbish chute. This is a fucking disgrace. Try as I did I could not understand what the fuck shit the maths were all about. I am still stuck in my assignment and the thought of either suicide or dropping out is gaining a louder voice in my head with every passing minute. In my feverish state I searched through he UniShit website and found the Film Art module XH was telling me about. The kind of module you just have to smoke your way through and with a few decent looking broads. I still don’t understand why in the Hells I was not offered this course. True, it is an Arts course, but there are Business students in his class! By right I should be allowed to take it too. Fuck Finance. Fuck maths. Fuck this course. If I ever strike it rich in the lottery, I will quit this flophouse university and its flophouse business course straight away (after writing a nice letter to the Dean to tell him how mediocre his administration is, of course). This I told my colleagues and anybody who knows me knows I like to keep my promises.
No comments:
Post a Comment