annoying dick A: oooh, is that the new <client’s product>?

simpering fool B: yes! it is the new <client’s product>!

annoying dick A: wow! does it have <product benefit 1>?

simpering fool B: not only does it have that, it also has <product benefit 2> <product benefit 3> <product benefit 4>!

annoying dick A: i also heard it is now <discounted price> with <current promo>!

simpering fool B: you are right! i’ve already gotten 20 million of these <client’s product> at <discounted price>! what about you?

annoying dick A and simpering fool B burst into fake laughter.

radio format 2

whiny asshole A: oh, i’m so sick of <random dumb fuck problem> happening to me!

smug self righteous prick B: really? you mean you still haven’t discovered <product benefit> of <client’s product>?

whiny asshole A: no, i’ve never heard of <product benefit> of <client’s product>! tell me what is it!

smug self righteous prick B: well, <client’s product> is very efficient at <product benefit> and now it comes with <extra benefit> too!

whiny asshole A: oh! i’m going out to grab <client’s product> now to solve my <random dumb fuck problem> today!

whiny asshole A and smug self righteous prick together: because <product tagline>!

whiny asshole A and smug self righteous prick burst into bout of fake laughter

footnote: radio commercials have no full stops. every sentence ends with either an exclamation mark or multiple questions marks.

filled my tank up just now and came back to check my transaction on maybank2u to see they billed me RM200.

yes, it’ll be credited back to me within 3-14 days, but damn, son, that ain’t cool.

strangely, everything has happened smoothly, albeit suddenly. my new colleague is a paradoxically baby-faced veteran landlord whose tenants serendipitously moved out.

it seems like a small thing, but being the baby that i secretly am, i’m still getting used to all the grown up stuff.

manja, i moved out of the house last week. she’s getting accustomed to high-rise living. and i’ve been running around getting keys, getting cleaners, getting movers, getting things as close to normalcy as possible. and i’m glad to have someone holding my hand every step of the way.

this is not an unhappy post. you can call it a slightly vexed post. or maybe even bemused post. can you blame me? everything i’ve known for the past few years has got to change. it’s a scary thing, suddenly you see how easily the supposed iron pillars of your life can crumble and blow off in the wind.

it scares me to see how easily i, myself, can be shaken.

i know it’ll open soon, but i want it now!

“As Ray Porter watches Mirabelle walk away he feels a loss. How is it possible, he thinks, to miss a woman whom he kept at a distance so that when she was gone he would not miss her. Only then does he realize that wanting part of her and not all of her had hurt them both and how he cannot justify his actions except that… well… it was life.”

i paid good money, dude, please tell me something i don’t know.

simply because i’m still looking like a schoolgirl while chasing 30.

for posterity’s (and honesty’s) sake though, that was actually a Gratuitous Photo of Yourself Tuesday. i look way worse on a work day than a holiday, duh.

ni baru gambar rabu. ish.

since i’m no longer the young bird/cat/chick i was 5 years ago, the adult thing to do next it to get a place and move my freeloading ass out of my family home. the one consistent theme in the many reactions to this is: “ask your boyfriend to buy you a place”

of course i know i’m a fragile, frail, inept, needy, weakling female and wont to need assistance with every step i take.

but why, oh why must my boyfriend sign 30 years of his life away to buy me a home? is it his manly responsibility? did i just strike it lucky being born without a penis? do men really have nothing better to do? is pussy juice worth a few hundred grand?

maybe my colleagues can get an office collection going and pool some extra cash to buy me one, it makes about as much sense as placing the burden arbitrarily on a boyfriend/husband.

i was warded 2 days last week for my surgery. and boy, was that horrific. i didn’t wake up all chirpy and renewed with new gall-less vigour as hinted by my surgeon. nope, more like 24 hours of cramping around each of my incisions; a chance meeting with a freshie nurse who tugged wrongly at my branula, squirting blood all over my nice hospital gown like some tarantino movie; a bout of UTI, which meant hourly trips to the washroom (it was either that or a catheter since bedpans apparently don’t exist on the 5th floor).

now i’m home sweet home, i realise i’ve taken too many things for granted. getting out of bed on my own? a thing of the past. the stitches force me into a posture that makes me want to burst into song. and i’ve (of course) been experiencing coughing and sneezing fits aplenty. nice one.

can’t wait to get these coverings and stitches removed and get back to the grindstone.

me, skin crawling: do patients wake up during surgery?

doctor: i really prefer they don’t do that. they tend to ask a lot of questions.

i was terribly disappointed that he’s self-proclaimed “old skool” and won’t be making me a dvd recording of the keyhole surgery (that’s laparoscopic surgery for those of you who care) to watch with a bucket of popcorn. though, he did promise to pass me the, erm, specimen inclusive of all the little buggers so i can “string them up and make a necklace”.

after a lengthy q&a aka nervous grilling, there are a few things i can safely conclude:

1. 11 out of 10 persons on the street can’t tell the difference between the gallbladder and the kidney
2. the same 11 persons dispense interchangeable advice
3. after 3 consultations, i’m even more confused why the gallbladder (and while we’re at it, the damn appendix) even exists
4. people who get gallstones are supposed to be Female, Forty, Fat, Fertile
5. hospitals have late check-out charges just like hotels

my “social” calendar is now strangely full and i feel happening in all the wrong ways. thursday, BAT karaoke. this weekend, krabi. next week, surgery and after a week-long medical leave, minion and i are getting some ink done together. all just before i pop over to the new agency.

totally random, but assunta girls all just give out the same vibe. i can smell them a mile away sial.

told manja I was a bit bogged down so she offered to to my  taxes for me.