My mate informed us that the footy at Sentosa this Saturday is cancelled because our organizer got into an accident. This really sucks. There must be something wrong about the people I played/am playing football with. One ended his miserable existence; another died in a motorcycle accident, one sustained injuries sufficiently serious to keep him out of a two-year work attachment in the US; and another continues to strike the ball with the outside of his foot so much his ankles are permanently weakened. The injured and dead notwithstanding, my former teammates were the worst kind of whoresons to emerge since Vinnie Jones’ The Crazy Gang - but without the physicality to complement a violent team temperament. Red cards, fights, fitness problems, lack of commitment and technical application characterized our play and precipitated our heavy defeat in many a match. The current mobs had less or more of the aforementioned deficiencies; with an added emphasis on in-group collectivism, selfishness, stupidity and aesthetical inferiority (I don’t mean the standard of football here). Maybe I should take up golf.
I have finally bought my shades. I wear them when I have to go outdoors on a sunny day, and at night as well, to protect my eyes from the blinding headlights and lamps. The polarized lenses reduce the glare from reflected light, and I am beginning to prefer seeing through a shade of brown than looking at things with my naked eyes. I would have worn them at the office if nobody minded. I am truly becoming cat-eyed. The night is beautiful, and the darkness is comforting. Ah…the darkness…
While watching Bangkok Dangerous last night, I was struck by how lovely and charming Thai ladies can be, especially if you are a bloke and not a Thai one. Most military personnel who have been to Thailand for military exercises sing the praises of its womenfolk. Some even return to visit their squeezes or carry on long distance relationships via the phone and internet. In the movie, the assassin (played by Nicholas Cage - what an ugly cracker!) had an easy time picking up Charlie Yeung’s Thai character. It may be corny but this happens all the time. If you cannot score with your local lasses, go to the Land of Smiles. I am not implying that the Thai womenfolk are all gold-diggers or sluts but they are really friendly people. A Shitholer bloke who is despised by the generally high-priced, overrated, arrogant, dumb and ugly specimens we call our women will be hot property in Thailand. They love us there. I know blokes who married Thais and to the best of my knowledge, none of them are divorced or contemplating divorce. There are also people who have Thai squeezes and some even go back every few months to see them. Really, Shitholer women do not usually receive such devotion and deservedly so.
In my esteemed opinion, our local lasses should stop reading these shithouse women’s magazines. Hardly an issue goes by without some she-male or ugly wench offering his/her/its idiotic opinions about ‘what men want’ and ‘how to satisfy your man etc’. It’s all bollocks! I mean, what do an effeminate bugger who ejaculates through the back door know what real men want in their women? If you are a gay who is reading this and feels offended, that is your own problem. I am a real man while you are not. If you are a feminist, serve the army first before you demand your bill of unequal rights.
What real men want:
1.
No size zeroes please. We do not enjoy humping miniature goal posts.
2.
Let a bloke be a bloke. If you can go on hours about handbags and the bloody Great Shithole Sale, we reserve the right to go crazy over football, cars, and Jenna Jameson.
3.
Learn to cook. One of the ways to a bloke’s heart is through his stomach.
4.
During sex, please ditch your best dead fish impersonation. Most blokes aren’t necrophiles.
5.
If we are career-focused, we are not spending enough time with you. If we are taking things easy on the career path, we are losers. If we are manly, we are insensitive chauvinistic pigs. If we are sensitive new age guys, we are softies. MAKE UP YOUR BLOODY MIND!
6.
The ability to have PMS does not give a woman the right to go crazy on any male and then expect him to apologize for something that was never his fault. Instead of blaming men, blame Mother Nature. Better still; blame yourself for your lack of control.
7.
It is the right of every man to ogle any hot looking hussy who walks past. His interest in her is perfectly natural and does not make him Tight Woods.
8.
Stop castigating local blokes who go after foreign birds. Look at yourself in the mirror instead. We (the male consumers) have a need; they (foreign birds) satisfy our need; you (local women): refuse to /cannot satisfy our need. Therefore, we choose them instead of you. It is simple economics.
9.
Stop bitching about glass ceilings and gender inequality in professional jobs and pay. They do not exist, at least not in this Shithole. If women earn less, it is often because (i) they are not as driven as men (ii) many women are Arts graduates, and compared to other fields, the Arts don’t usually pay that well. In this Shithole, men need to waste two years serving the army while women get a head start in their careers. Some industries, like construction and engineering, are male-dominated mostly because few women choose to take up qualifications in these areas. In human resources, sales, services and administrative roles, there is a real preference for women, especially good-looking ones. In a nutshell, if women want their cake, they have to get it themselves like their male counterparts have been doing since the dawn of history.
10.
Stop wailing about equality. If women want equality, they should (i) volunteer to serve the army with their men (if Israeli women can do it, I don’t see why our own deserves the right to make excuses); (ii) open the door for your guys – it’s not very heavy; (iii) on the first date, insist on paying. Equality for women should not mean inequality against men.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
On the Edge of Collapse
My weekends were toast because I had to finish my %#&@ Business assignment. We only received our marked group project on Friday when we were supposed to have gotten it back by Tuesday. When I checked through it, I found that the comments in it were made on Thursday. I don’t want to imply anything, but we desperately needed our group project for our final assessment and to return it to us 72 hours before the deadline was rather irresponsible innit?
The word limit was ridiculous as well. Since most of us already hit 7,000 to 9,000 words for our first assignment, it didn’t make any sense that our final assignment, which was an expansion on the first, should have a limit of 5,000. Our markers claimed that having a word limit would train us to be more concise in our writing, but this is absolutely bollocks. If I wanted to do summary writing I might as well go back and retake my bleeding ‘O’ levels. I spent an entire afternoon getting 8,700 words down to 5,500 and it was certainly not funny.
UniShit is really a good university to attend if you (i) cannot pass ‘O’ levels English to save your miserable hide; (ii) enjoy taking shit; and/or (iii) just want an easy degree. XH told me that they had over a month to finish an 800 word argumentative essay. 800 words! My Gawd! His English textbook was typical UniShit fare: a fucking disgrace. It did not take XH’s wife much effort to spot a few grammatical mistakes when she flipped through it. Really, has UniShit no shame?! This is a fucking degree course, not kindergarten class! I do not think UniShit has our interests at heart when they impose word limits on our essays. It is more likely they don’t want the people they employ and who are PART-TIMERS like their pathetic students, to read so many words.. It’s very stressful you know. Let’s not stress the poor dears so much. They have their jobs and family lives too. As for the students, they are burning the candle at both ends too but ‘I’m sure they are all working adults and should be more mature” so let’s just fuck care them and let them stew in their fucking juices yea?
I came close to doing myself in last night. I was in front of the computer since morning and after doing the video presentation, I had a wretched time trimming it. To compound my misery, I had to retype the accounting statements and the sight of these bloody numbers made me nauseous. I held my face in my head. I wanted to cry but there were no tears because my eyes were dry from working in front of the computer for one whole fucking day. My head hurt, my brain refused to function, and for the umpteen time I cursed myself for enrolling myself in this fucking torture chamber. There are easier paper mills to attend. I would have graduated if I had gone to one of those. Business degrees can be easily attained in Kaplan, SMA and other places, but no, of all the places in this whole burning shithole I had to go to fucking UniShit. WHY? WHY? WHY?!
The next time I hear full-time Business students from NTU, NUS, or SMU complain about how tough their *miserable* lives are, I am going to snap. I don’t think they even need to do video presentations. They have all the time in the world. They can get plastered on lady’s night, miss classes the next day and still survive the module. In fact, I rather think they can sleep their way through their season and still pass. You get a UniShit student to try such stunts and it is a fair bet that he won’t survive. I don’t understand why people can still drop out of a full-time business degree. When you have been through eighteen levels of Hell at UniShit, most academic business courses are a walk in the park. Although I have never seen a single paper from NUS or NTU, I daresay that if I were a full-time student there I would be challenging for first-class honours. You get an average NUS student to swap places with me and he will most probably die cock-standing.
Anyway, after much struggle, I finally sorted out my written report, Power-point slides and video. At 2am, I sent the shit in and surprisingly UniShit’s IT system held. If it had failed then I would probably not be writing this now. My classmate was still doing and while I admire his mental strength, I still think that he was crazy. There is only so much shit a man can do before the suffers a spiritual and mental collapse. . I was teetering on the edge last night. It could happen again.
The word limit was ridiculous as well. Since most of us already hit 7,000 to 9,000 words for our first assignment, it didn’t make any sense that our final assignment, which was an expansion on the first, should have a limit of 5,000. Our markers claimed that having a word limit would train us to be more concise in our writing, but this is absolutely bollocks. If I wanted to do summary writing I might as well go back and retake my bleeding ‘O’ levels. I spent an entire afternoon getting 8,700 words down to 5,500 and it was certainly not funny.
UniShit is really a good university to attend if you (i) cannot pass ‘O’ levels English to save your miserable hide; (ii) enjoy taking shit; and/or (iii) just want an easy degree. XH told me that they had over a month to finish an 800 word argumentative essay. 800 words! My Gawd! His English textbook was typical UniShit fare: a fucking disgrace. It did not take XH’s wife much effort to spot a few grammatical mistakes when she flipped through it. Really, has UniShit no shame?! This is a fucking degree course, not kindergarten class! I do not think UniShit has our interests at heart when they impose word limits on our essays. It is more likely they don’t want the people they employ and who are PART-TIMERS like their pathetic students, to read so many words.. It’s very stressful you know. Let’s not stress the poor dears so much. They have their jobs and family lives too. As for the students, they are burning the candle at both ends too but ‘I’m sure they are all working adults and should be more mature” so let’s just fuck care them and let them stew in their fucking juices yea?
I came close to doing myself in last night. I was in front of the computer since morning and after doing the video presentation, I had a wretched time trimming it. To compound my misery, I had to retype the accounting statements and the sight of these bloody numbers made me nauseous. I held my face in my head. I wanted to cry but there were no tears because my eyes were dry from working in front of the computer for one whole fucking day. My head hurt, my brain refused to function, and for the umpteen time I cursed myself for enrolling myself in this fucking torture chamber. There are easier paper mills to attend. I would have graduated if I had gone to one of those. Business degrees can be easily attained in Kaplan, SMA and other places, but no, of all the places in this whole burning shithole I had to go to fucking UniShit. WHY? WHY? WHY?!
The next time I hear full-time Business students from NTU, NUS, or SMU complain about how tough their *miserable* lives are, I am going to snap. I don’t think they even need to do video presentations. They have all the time in the world. They can get plastered on lady’s night, miss classes the next day and still survive the module. In fact, I rather think they can sleep their way through their season and still pass. You get a UniShit student to try such stunts and it is a fair bet that he won’t survive. I don’t understand why people can still drop out of a full-time business degree. When you have been through eighteen levels of Hell at UniShit, most academic business courses are a walk in the park. Although I have never seen a single paper from NUS or NTU, I daresay that if I were a full-time student there I would be challenging for first-class honours. You get an average NUS student to swap places with me and he will most probably die cock-standing.
Anyway, after much struggle, I finally sorted out my written report, Power-point slides and video. At 2am, I sent the shit in and surprisingly UniShit’s IT system held. If it had failed then I would probably not be writing this now. My classmate was still doing and while I admire his mental strength, I still think that he was crazy. There is only so much shit a man can do before the suffers a spiritual and mental collapse. . I was teetering on the edge last night. It could happen again.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
The American Speaks!
Despite having some very strange views about science and religion, my American lecturer does say some very interesting things. Here’s roughly what he said during last night’s lecture:
If Shitholers do not want to start their own companies, they may one day be working for a Filipino company. They will be working for other people in their own country. It is quite sad isn’t it?
History has shown that dynastic rule never lasts. Succession often does not go smoothly. The oldest man in the world is like how many, 105 years old? All the wealth and power in the world cannot buy you immortality. We will see a change, and I reckon we don’t have to wait for long. How will it affect the stability in this country? We will just have to wait and see.
Shitholer/Asian students are very good at taking tests and passing examinations. They tend to beat Americans. However, they are not good at applying what they have learned to the real world. Don’t get me wrong. There are certain jobs, especially those that require you to take tests in which Asians excel. For other jobs, Americans are just better.
I noticed most of you used outsourcing in your assignment. Don’t get too obsessed with it. Don’t outsource just for the sake of cost-cutting. You are just being lazy. You are outsourcing work, not your responsibilities.
If Shitholers do not want to start their own companies, they may one day be working for a Filipino company. They will be working for other people in their own country. It is quite sad isn’t it?
History has shown that dynastic rule never lasts. Succession often does not go smoothly. The oldest man in the world is like how many, 105 years old? All the wealth and power in the world cannot buy you immortality. We will see a change, and I reckon we don’t have to wait for long. How will it affect the stability in this country? We will just have to wait and see.
Shitholer/Asian students are very good at taking tests and passing examinations. They tend to beat Americans. However, they are not good at applying what they have learned to the real world. Don’t get me wrong. There are certain jobs, especially those that require you to take tests in which Asians excel. For other jobs, Americans are just better.
I noticed most of you used outsourcing in your assignment. Don’t get too obsessed with it. Don’t outsource just for the sake of cost-cutting. You are just being lazy. You are outsourcing work, not your responsibilities.
Trying to be a Tiger
It is the Year of the Tiger and everybody wants to be jolly Tiger Woods. John Terry bedded his teammate’s ride; CAshley Cole had phone sex with some hussy; now local – and not so funny anymore – comedian Jack decides to rediscover his touch by making public his affair with a kiss-and-tell bitch 28 years his junior.
The precise details of their ill-fated, torrid and obscene copulations are currently a matter of national interest. Amid the conjectures of the uninformed and voyeuristic masses, one question stands out: How in the Hells did Jack bring himself to bang such an ugly strumpet?
Indeed, if the tart were to stand at some obscure lorong in the seedy district of Desker, I doubt that she would even be accosted by cheap and smelly blackamoors. According to the tabloids, this unimpressive specimen, horribly resplendent with her flat chest and a maw of a greedy mouth, had been a model. Of which ill-fated agency she belonged to, I know not. Since its standards were so low as to be non-existent, it probably closed down long ago. Then again, many local models are plain Janes who will not warrant a second look from people of impeccable taste. This sad fact only serves to illustrate how hopeless this Shithole and its aesthetically repulsive its denizens are.
While I am in no position to comment on his matrimonial integrity, there are two things that absolutely get my goat. First, after his extraordinary feat of mounting (and being mounted by) this phenomenally shameless bipedal bitch for two years, Jack allows himself to be threatened by this lower animal. A man with back bone would have told the tart that fun time is over and ‘daddy ain’t gonna give you pony rides no more.’ Since she was already being so brazen by confronting him at his home and going public with their affair, why not just fight fire with fire and denounced her for a lousy lay and he had to fake orgasms when he spurted into her loose crevices?
Second: Why in the Hells did he have to bring a charlatan to the reconciliation table? Surely Jack, his wife and this brazen hussy should be able to trash things out on their own (or trash one another). What good was a faith-head good for, save to mutter some irrelevant drivel? It makes one wonder to whom Jack was shedding his crocodile tears. Was he trying to show the world that he was truly repentant and therefore a moral man by asking his deity for forgiveness? Bill Clinton did the same thing when he was embroiled in the Lewinsky scandal. When you have religion, you can get away with anything. You can be a participant in the Nanjing Massacre; the Holocaust; and the My Lai atrocities, but you can easily mitigate your crimes and absolve yourself of all sins by invoking Gawd. It is hypocritical and spineless behavior. If he were truly sorry, he should have apologized to his wife instead of resorting to this charade. A real man does not need balls of steel, Gawd, or the company of a religious parasite to say sorry to someone he has wronged. Conscience is all that is required, and sadly, this JACKASS clearly has none.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
A Meaningless M onologue
Even in this Shithole there are enclaves which make the smoky realms of Gehenna a pleasant destination for tourists. UniShit is a good example. Its scenery is insipid, and the denizens roaming its nightmarish landscape are unsightly, with mental capabilities reminiscent of the environs where they infest. To get to this Hell, I have to endure nearly an hour of standing on an overcrowded bus. By the time I reach the place, I am too tired to concentrate on whatever the lecturer is saying. My stomach will growl from my missing dinner, and my eyes, already tired from staring at the computer screen at work, will suffer blurriness. My reward for enduring two hours of this self-imposed punishment – I am usually an hour late; a torture session is three hours long – is to join the throng at the bus stand and quietly suffer slow suffocation while waiting to board yet another overcrowded bus. By the time I reach a slop house, dinner has become supper, and even given my hunger I am too exhausted to have much of an appetite.
I am losing weight and at this rate I will surely be as emaciated as a World War II prisoner of war. My reflexes are slowing and my resistance to disease and other debilitating effects is deteriorating. What primarily stop me from emulating Robert Enke’s spectacular feat is the prospect of leaving this shithole and starting a life elsewhere. I think of this possibility every waking moment. It is an obsession that can only be cured when I either achieve my objective or meet my demise. I do not hope. Hope is the same as faith. It is irrational, irresponsible, and a weakness. The implied certainty that comes with expectation is, while superior, pales in comparison to the realization of what was previously an expectation. Hope is intrinsically empty. Like faith, it must be eradicated. When all else fail, there is the comfort only extirpation can bring. Embrace it. Fear it not.
Chicken and I went to the Holy Land nearly a tenday ago. The Chinese merchandise on display had porcelain skin and a brazen attitude commensurate with their high, magnificent breasts. The Thai and Indonesian goods were unworthy of scrutiny. As we strolled, entrepreneurs accosted us. Their goods were inferior and looked distinctly sad-eyed. Clearly their businesses targeted a more unsavory and desperate consumer niche.
The age of globalization has well and truly descended upon this shithole. Gone were the locals; in their place, Vietnamese and Thai men entertained speculators at the cards-and-dice tables. Shitholers are having everything, from their jobs and women, taken by foreigners. Now, they cannot even land a job in the black market and criminal fringes. Too bad XR was not with us. An hour walking around the Holy Land would have been more enriching to him than two decades of insipid schooling ever did. I learned more about entrepreneurship in the Holy Land than at UniShit. Maybe those pedantic, elitist and self-congratulatory prats from Harvard should set up a Business school right in the heart of the Holy Land.
After our Finance class, my mate and I denounced UniShit on our journey to the train station. I started the ball rolling by cussing our shite university. Inspired by the exquisite truth in my vehemence, he added that UniShit has absolutely no quality control over its intake of students. Any imbecile with money could just sign up and contribute his inferior qualities to an already noxious environment. It was obvious from the start that the whoresons just wanted our dough. When the regime announced it was giving a 40% subsidy to native Shitholers studying for a degree at UniShit, it raised prices for its modules and made us pay for what were previous free refreshments the very next season. He further added that the piece of paper is just for show and we do not really learn anything much.
I quite agree with his assessment. Personally, I feel – and this is a feeling that grows stronger with each passing day – that I would have been better off pursuing a degree in English. Last year thousands of Business graduates could not find employment after they finished their studies. I seem to recall a grossly overpaid minister saying that Business students should not be choosy and take up blue-collar jobs. MENSA should have offered him a free IQ test. A friend of mine said that he had to cap his salary demands to two grand, which was really pathetic for a degree holder. On Sunday, a Filipino working in the tourism and hospitality industry was featured in a local tabloid. He claimed to have a degree in his chosen field and is taking home $1,900 a month. This is really obscene. Foreigners are coming here, elevating our working hours almost to slavery and depressing our wages until we are practically paupers. Despite the lies our regime is telling about restricting the number of immigrants in the next five years and investing more on Shitholers, I think by the time I graduate – assuming I manage this incredible feat – I would be imposing a asking salary cap of $1,800. Furthermore, with so many paper mills offering business degrees, the price that piece of paper fetches will depreciate even more. If I had gone for an English degree, I would be able to ask for higher than two grand. Very few Chinese, Bangladesh, Indians and Shitholers will ever take up a degree in English, so there is less competition. The only thing that can upset the status quo is if they import more Filipinos (a likely scenario), or Shitholers suddenly start to take English properly (when pigs fly). Being a copywriter or editor is definitely easier than killing one another in the acrimonious world of business. True, I may not ever be rich, but the same applies to a business graduate. You do not get rich working for people. If you asked me, I would rather look at sentences than examine rows and rows of ledgers. I prefer criticizing people over their writing (just ask the Old Guy), than sucking up and sniffing some self-important executive’s scrawny butt.
Speaking of the Old Guy, I have decided to temporarily stop my peer-review of his book. I have two assignments to clear within the next 7 to 13 days and I cannot afford to expend brainpower on non-profitable endeavors. It has been an exasperating experience. I feel he is being overly defensive about his work. There is hardly anything wrong with his diction, but his style is long-winded and he sometimes wrote out of point. Gabby and I offered our honest opinions, but unfortunately the Old Guy mostly just refuses to change. XH promised to help us but ended up giving some really pathetic excuses. There is still much work to be done. Until we told him, the Old Guy did not even know he could get news online for free. (Maybe this explains why he quotes so often from the Shite Times. He claims he wants to target local readers, but he is simply just being daft and/or lazy.)
As a friend I wish him the best for his work. As an atheist I do not want him to screw up big time and disgrace the rest of us. Our kind has always produced quality books and he better not be the first to balls it up. After I am done with my stupid assignments, maybe I will continue to review his book. Depends really.
I am losing weight and at this rate I will surely be as emaciated as a World War II prisoner of war. My reflexes are slowing and my resistance to disease and other debilitating effects is deteriorating. What primarily stop me from emulating Robert Enke’s spectacular feat is the prospect of leaving this shithole and starting a life elsewhere. I think of this possibility every waking moment. It is an obsession that can only be cured when I either achieve my objective or meet my demise. I do not hope. Hope is the same as faith. It is irrational, irresponsible, and a weakness. The implied certainty that comes with expectation is, while superior, pales in comparison to the realization of what was previously an expectation. Hope is intrinsically empty. Like faith, it must be eradicated. When all else fail, there is the comfort only extirpation can bring. Embrace it. Fear it not.
* * *
Chicken and I went to the Holy Land nearly a tenday ago. The Chinese merchandise on display had porcelain skin and a brazen attitude commensurate with their high, magnificent breasts. The Thai and Indonesian goods were unworthy of scrutiny. As we strolled, entrepreneurs accosted us. Their goods were inferior and looked distinctly sad-eyed. Clearly their businesses targeted a more unsavory and desperate consumer niche.
The age of globalization has well and truly descended upon this shithole. Gone were the locals; in their place, Vietnamese and Thai men entertained speculators at the cards-and-dice tables. Shitholers are having everything, from their jobs and women, taken by foreigners. Now, they cannot even land a job in the black market and criminal fringes. Too bad XR was not with us. An hour walking around the Holy Land would have been more enriching to him than two decades of insipid schooling ever did. I learned more about entrepreneurship in the Holy Land than at UniShit. Maybe those pedantic, elitist and self-congratulatory prats from Harvard should set up a Business school right in the heart of the Holy Land.
* * *
After our Finance class, my mate and I denounced UniShit on our journey to the train station. I started the ball rolling by cussing our shite university. Inspired by the exquisite truth in my vehemence, he added that UniShit has absolutely no quality control over its intake of students. Any imbecile with money could just sign up and contribute his inferior qualities to an already noxious environment. It was obvious from the start that the whoresons just wanted our dough. When the regime announced it was giving a 40% subsidy to native Shitholers studying for a degree at UniShit, it raised prices for its modules and made us pay for what were previous free refreshments the very next season. He further added that the piece of paper is just for show and we do not really learn anything much.
I quite agree with his assessment. Personally, I feel – and this is a feeling that grows stronger with each passing day – that I would have been better off pursuing a degree in English. Last year thousands of Business graduates could not find employment after they finished their studies. I seem to recall a grossly overpaid minister saying that Business students should not be choosy and take up blue-collar jobs. MENSA should have offered him a free IQ test. A friend of mine said that he had to cap his salary demands to two grand, which was really pathetic for a degree holder. On Sunday, a Filipino working in the tourism and hospitality industry was featured in a local tabloid. He claimed to have a degree in his chosen field and is taking home $1,900 a month. This is really obscene. Foreigners are coming here, elevating our working hours almost to slavery and depressing our wages until we are practically paupers. Despite the lies our regime is telling about restricting the number of immigrants in the next five years and investing more on Shitholers, I think by the time I graduate – assuming I manage this incredible feat – I would be imposing a asking salary cap of $1,800. Furthermore, with so many paper mills offering business degrees, the price that piece of paper fetches will depreciate even more. If I had gone for an English degree, I would be able to ask for higher than two grand. Very few Chinese, Bangladesh, Indians and Shitholers will ever take up a degree in English, so there is less competition. The only thing that can upset the status quo is if they import more Filipinos (a likely scenario), or Shitholers suddenly start to take English properly (when pigs fly). Being a copywriter or editor is definitely easier than killing one another in the acrimonious world of business. True, I may not ever be rich, but the same applies to a business graduate. You do not get rich working for people. If you asked me, I would rather look at sentences than examine rows and rows of ledgers. I prefer criticizing people over their writing (just ask the Old Guy), than sucking up and sniffing some self-important executive’s scrawny butt.
* * *
Speaking of the Old Guy, I have decided to temporarily stop my peer-review of his book. I have two assignments to clear within the next 7 to 13 days and I cannot afford to expend brainpower on non-profitable endeavors. It has been an exasperating experience. I feel he is being overly defensive about his work. There is hardly anything wrong with his diction, but his style is long-winded and he sometimes wrote out of point. Gabby and I offered our honest opinions, but unfortunately the Old Guy mostly just refuses to change. XH promised to help us but ended up giving some really pathetic excuses. There is still much work to be done. Until we told him, the Old Guy did not even know he could get news online for free. (Maybe this explains why he quotes so often from the Shite Times. He claims he wants to target local readers, but he is simply just being daft and/or lazy.)
As a friend I wish him the best for his work. As an atheist I do not want him to screw up big time and disgrace the rest of us. Our kind has always produced quality books and he better not be the first to balls it up. After I am done with my stupid assignments, maybe I will continue to review his book. Depends really.
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