Ok ok,

There are so many jobs, occupations, and ways to make a living. And every person
goes into a job thinking they’re getting away with something, that it’s not really hard to do. Or the hours. Or they think the money’s pretty good.

Basically the only incentive a person needs to accept a job is to be shown another
job where the work is the same but the pay is a little less. Then their job automatically becomes what is referred to as “not a bad job.” That’s really all we want -a “not a bad job”- and we’re happy.

Some people will say they’ve got a “great job.” These people are being significantly overpaid. The IRAS needs to go after these people that think they have a great job. There’s the answer to your deficit. And these people are annoying anyway.

“Oh yeah? You’ve got a great job? Well guess what, starting Monday you’re only getting paid every other week. How great is it now, asshole?” Nobody likes the great job people. They’re almost as reviled as the great property people.

Cheers.

ps: Great property people don’t know how or when to shut up.

Ok ok,

I hate clothes. I hate them, okay?

I hate the selecting, the trying on, the conversing with the sales help. There’s another oxymoron, sales-help. You’re either helping me or selling me but they’re not the same thing. I hate carrying shopping bags. I hate receipts. I hate tags, pins, labels, hangers, buttons, zippers, drawstrings, lapels.

I hate bleach, color-safe bleach, detergents, liquids, powders, tablets, stain lifters, stain fighters, stain neutralizers, special crystals, active ingredients, enzymes, whiteners, brighteners. I hate hot water, cold water, warm water. I hate getting $1 off. I hate getting 1/3 more FREE. I hate fabric softener and static cling, so I lose either way.

I hate detergents that are good for the environment, bad for the environment, not even aware of the environment. I hate carrying laundry bags. I hate dry cleaning plastic, people that work at dry cleaners, talking about my stains to the dry cleaner.

I hate and refuse to read any poster or notice about anything on the wall of the dry cleaner. If it was posted “We reserve the right to steal your clothes,” I wouldn’t care. I’m not interested. Just take the clothes. Just let me get the hell out of here and back to the world as soon as possible.

I hate clothes. I hate them.

Cheers.

ps: There is no such thing as dry cleaning.

Ok ok,

Do you think that the people at the airport that run the stores have any idea what the prices are every place else in the world? Or do you think they just feel they have their own little country out there and they can charge anything they want? “Little hungry? You want a curry puff? It’s 8 dollars. If you don’t like it, go back to your own country.”

I think the whole airport/airline complex is a huge scam just to sell the curry puffs. I think that curry puff profit is what’s supporting the entire air-travel industry. The planes could fly empty, they’d still make money. The terminals, the aeroplanes, the parking, the giftshops, and the sweet things at the information booths, it’s all just to distract you so you don’t notice the beating you’re taking on the curry puff.

The next time you are at the airport, observe.

I believe the closest thing that we have to royalty in Singapore are the people that get to ride in those little carts through the airport. Don’t you hate those things? They come out of nowhere. “Beep, beep. Cart people, look out, cart people!” We all scurry out of the way like worthless peasants. “Ooh, it’s cart people. I hope we didn’t slow you down. Wave to the cart people.”

The other people I hate are the people that get onto the moving walkway (flat escalators) and then just stand there. Like it’s a ride. “Excuse me, there’s no animated pirates or gay gorillas along the way here. Do your legs work at all?”

For goodness sakes, it’s not Disney Land.

Cheers.

ps: I’ve stopped flying. Always take the bus.

Ok ok,

I love to be on the move. Much more than I’ve ever enjoyed getting anywhere. Arrival is overrated. Moving is much more exciting. Its the journey, not the destination.

Planes, boats, cars, trains, feet, whatever. I just want to move. I think destinations were invented just so we all wouldn’t look like we were wandering around in a daze.

My all-time favorite form of motion is the car. I’m one of those people. I love cars. It’s the greatest physical object I’ve ever seen. i mean, the damn things a modern marvel worthy of its own coffee table book.

I don’t know why, really. My only theory is, when you’re driving, you’re outside and inside, moving and completely still, all at the same time. I think that’s something.

Cheers.

ps: Take it for a spin sometime, and you will see.

Ok ok,

Cheers.

Ok ok,

Something interesting i came across.

Cheers.

Ok ok,

What are lawyers really?

To me a lawyer is basically the person that knows the rules of the country. We’re all throwing the dice, playing the game, moving our pieces around the board, but if there’s a problem, the lawyer is the only person that has actually read the inside of the top of the box.

Nitewing, one of my close associates, should be a lawyer. He always has this carnal need to read the instructions off these boxes.

I think probably the most fun thing a lawyer can do is say, “Objection.” “Objection! Objection, Your Honor!” Objection, of course, is the adult version of ” ‘fraid not!” To which the judge can say two things.

He can say, “Overruled,” which is the adult version of ” ‘Fraid so.” Or he can say “Sustained,” which is the adult version of “Duh. Now suck it up”

What are lawyers? They could be defined as grown-ups we kids really need to be around sometimes.

Cheers.

ps: Boston Legal will never seem the same again.

Ok ok,

I think the wonderful thing about men and women is how interested we are in these
people we have virtually nothing in common with. Men are obsessed with cleavage,
women are obsessed with shoes.

It’s the exact same obsession. It doesn’t matter how
many times we’ve seen these things, every time these objects are presented to us, we
have to look. We cannot not look.

To men, cleavage is like the nearest thing to a UFO landing nearby, that’s what it is.
To women, buying a pair of shoes that they really love is like boarding the alien ship.

I think it’s entirely possible that aliens have landed and they haven’t been able to get our attention because we’re so preoccupied with cleavage and shoes.

Cheers.

ps: i prefer cleavage to shoes.

Technorati tags: Archtomato