Sunday, March 09, 2008
Mas Alamak!
You don't have to wait no further. I am back here. First of, I lost my handphone. Some lucky soul has just won himself a brand old, no camera, half fucked key pad and non existent ringtone which is better off not heard Nokia 6100. [I think that's the model number. I was drunk when I bought it.] But, the point that's being magnified here is that I lost your numbers. All of your numbers be it you're human/moss living/tadpole/antelope or sperm, I've lost your number. If you've read this and you feel you're of 2 cents worth at least, send me your numbers VIA email/pigeon/fax/mail/smoke signal. The email add is on the right. Don't ask when, where, how and why it happened. I ain't explaining no shit. Shit happens.
The part that gets onto my nerves when I lose my handphone is when I have to call Starhub to get my line suspended till I get my phone replaced. They're still the same since the last time I had a Starhub line and eloped without paying the outstanding $400. Which to date, might have turned $1000 inclusive of interest and lawyer fees. Poor chaps. But, still staying on the same topic, you still punch '0' for the operator who's always on hold. It's about time they go "Please hold while your call is being transferred to a customer care consultant who's always on hold and never comes back to assist you till you're dead pissed and you feel like splitting open his throat." And what adds salt to injury is when they go "Your call is important to us. Please hold and we'll attend to you shortly." Are you telling me 30 minutes on the phone listening to some music that makes me feel like bisecting a bullfrog short? I could have gone on a cruise to Switzerland and back for the amount of time she took.
"Bitch, please. You must have a mental disease."
On other news, if you're wondering what the $%&@#!!! happened to me, I'm involved in an operation. "Searching" for Mas Selamat Bin Mak Dia Mia Puki. [In direct translation, Mas Selamat s/o his mother's *coughs*] Listening to the story of him escaping while pissing really piss-es me off. Millions of questions run through my mind now but why wasn't there no grilles on the toilet window? Who the fuck was the contractor? Phua Chu Kang? Although I know deep down where he might be at this very instance, I'd shoot that motherfucker to death IF I were to spot him. It ain't no joke when I'm out in the blazing sun for 12 hours without sleep looking for someone who's not gonna turn up. If you happen to bump into him while clubbing, please let him know I'm on a personal hunt for his limping soul. Since I'm Praba and I was come up with solutions that are as smooth as lotions, I'll suggest one place where he could be found:
O Bar. I keep telling my captain Mas Selamat might be at O bar on Wednesdays cause it's ladies night. He just refuses to listen and laughs at my suggestions. Wait till I bump into him when I am clubbing one day. I have this funny gut feeling about the bouncer there. He looks like he knows one or two about that limping bastard. I'll unveil this enigma.
Labels: Mas Selamat
Praba
- 11:22 PM
0 comment(s)
BarBras
You know, the sad thing about being an Indian is when you have people who cannot pronounce the name your parents had a hard time choosing. Breaking it down for you, my name is pronounced pra-ba-garan. No two ways about it. There's only one fuggin way you could possibly pronounce my name. But, sometimes, it's just impossible to have people say my name. Really. They all sound like they're saying my name giving a blowjob concurrently. When you have someone who goes "JunpingJek in posi-son ready. Fie counts of foe", how the fuck on earth is he possibly gonna pronounce my name? And what the fuck is "Junpin jek"?!?!?!?! Where the fuck did he get that from?
Staying with the same guy, he calls me Bar-Bras. No joke. He calls me BAR-BRAS. If his left eye is a lil crooked to the left, maybe it's about time I slap him so hard that his left crooked eye becomes straight. He's one of those who look at me and go "You're quite ink-telligent. Keeps it up....." and just before I can smile and say thank you, he fucks it up by completing it "You're quite ink-telligent. Keeps it up BAR-BRAS." It's hard enough for me to hate him because he always has that innocent look and 'spongebob squarepants' like smile right after he calls me Bar-Bras. Not that long ago, he was sharing with me his problems. About how his wife wants to divorce him and move out with the kids. I felt for him. For once I wasn't joking in the office and felt like I was indeed in the office. And definitely, for once, I didn't mind him speaking although I thought some parts were in Chinese but wasn't the matter. He actually mispronounced. I was a lil' cons-pused. But on a more serious note, it is quite difficult when the person you love wants to move on and fuels the fire by bringing along the children with them. I came from a broken home. I felt the pinch then. I ain't allowing that to happen to him though he fuckin' gets my name wrong all the time.
With a 'easy on eye' editing of his powder-full England, this is how the conversation, as detailed as I can recall, went:
Me: So, is she definitely bringing the children along with her?
Him: Ya. See say see kif bird mah. [She said she give birth mah.]
Me: Hmm. Okie. And you said OK for that?
Him: Whak can I do? See gives bird mah. You thing I dohwan my chewdren meh?[What can I do? She gave birth mah. You think I don't want my children meh?}
Me: Hmm. Then can I ask you something?
Him: Ask la. But no off for you nest week. Got sun inkportant thins. [Ask la. But no off for you next week. Got some important things]
Me: Not that. If you were to go to a vending machine, and after you slot in a dollar coin and punch 'Pokka Peach Tea' and the drink comes out, and when it's all set and done, does the drink belong to you or the vending machine?
Him: Eh, what you sayink? [Eh, what you saying]
Me: Aiya, nevermind. Forget it. Go think about it then come back to me.
After around 50 minutes:
Him: HEY! You quite ink-telligent ah! Keeps it up .........
And just before he could finish, the office is filled with me screaming
"NO, DON'T PRONOUNCE MY NAME PLEASE! I GET THE MESSAGE!"
Praba
- 10:27 PM
1 comment(s)
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Hi! I just came across yur blog...and i have to say this post is really funny and sme of yur other posts as well..yur quite witty i must say. Keeps it up! :P
6:53 PM
