Toot Toot Tuesday

I'm sure you want to hear bout my day. I was just listening to either Class 95 or Gold 90 before leaving the office in the evening, at about 545 pm [yes, 15 mins is still OT my friends], and some DJ was blabbering on about how the blog fad is over and how no one wants to hear bout people's day or their ranting and their raving and their general whining about life in general.

I mean come on, is it really over? Sheesh. I thought people LOVED to hear about my day. LOVED to see the multitude of troubles I can seek out in the space of a few days. LOVED to wonder awestruck how just 3 days after payday I am already 80% spended.

Oh well, to hell with the bozo. I is gonna tell you bout my day.

It started out frantic, missing socks! Yes, it's been a helluva long time since I've worn regulation black socks to work. I just can't seem to find it. Yes, I still have $233 of credit to purchase around 40 pairs of those black woollen thingys but heck, I'm too lazy. No, the mart lady is not a neighbour in my block. No, I don't pass by the same mart every goddamn day on the way to breakfast.

So, yeah, my little brother decides to take a leaf out of my book and sleep in. He's got balls that punk. The days were those when he'd carry his humungous bag loaded with mostly useless paraphenelia and make his way even when he was down with a fever. But these days, if he has even a slight bodyache, then its sleeping in that he does. Some call it maturity. I call it, his arrival into Sec 3, the age of all things bad. If you're gonna get spoiled, you might as well get it over and done with in Sec 3. Once you cross this boundary, you're pretty much gonna turn out like a brain fucked musang when you turn out at 21.

I finally found this blue pair, which vaguely looked like my dads. It was screaming blue in colour. Light blue. Against dark blue pants. But what the hell. What the laundry basket gives, we use.

I waltz into work and realize my boss is not going to be in the whole day. So, we go for breakfast and whacked some scrumptious mee rebus. All I did was enquire about the health of one of the auntie's daughter, and I is now branded a auntie tackler. But still poor thing la that woman, apparently her kid has had flu symptoms for over a month and she has already spent 700 over dollars on medical fees both GP and hospitals.

When we get back, I stop by for a smoke and ML calls and sounds breathless. "The P man is in!". I say "Hahahahahhaa. We gonna have a fun day."

I walk in to see him in his civvies. Tapping away at the keyboard. Last evening my boss called ML and enquired about that particular piece of work that the dumb fuck P-man has yet to clear. See, P-motherfucker-man, shot out an email regarding some thing that required 10 over parties to reply. He didn't attach a format to reply with and he went on his 14 day long leave the very next day. This means me, ML, Boss, have had to handle phone calls and reply emails on his behalf all the goddamn time he was gone, without a clue as to what he could have meant in the email cos the BASTARD didn't bother keeping us in the loop.

Last night, my boss replied just one thing. "I'm gonna FUCK him!". ML and me was in hyper-joy mood. So, this morning the prick sits down and reads email and I think to myself, ok, the fucker has learnt his lesson, he's gonna send out the necessary stuff. Time now is 0830 Hours.

I sit and observe him. ML goes jalan jalan. At about 0845H, P man picks up the phone and dials furiously. Thinking its something related to the issue and not wanting to be caught unawares, I pick up the other line and listen in. This was how the conversation went:

P: Hi, Ms. ***, regarding this Open House in September ah... can I check if can bring family members?
***: Nah, only for internal personnnel
P: You mean, nephew and niece also cannot ah, they will stop ah?
***: Yeah la, written clearly right, for internal consumption only!
P: Oh ok, thanks.

So, the MOTHERFUCKER, makes such an urgent phone call to ask if his blood-tie motherfuckers can come attend a free event instead of handling business at hand. My blood is was boiling. I wait on. At 0915H, he logs out. Wakes up. ML walks in. And the mother peh pundei has the bloody cheek to ask ML to send out a mail to remind the 5-6 parties who hadn't replied yet regarding his issue. Wah lan eh! How can like that? Then he left abruptly, stating that he will be back after 530 to do more work. Anything la, please fuck off.

Once he was safely out of the premises. I got on the phone with my Boss, explained that we're still at Square One and that I will help him solve the problem as far as I can. He replied: "Thanks man! I'm gonna FUCK him!". Solid stuff big man.

So, I finished up my high profile paper, writing a paper is such hard work, not cos of the content but cos of the damn formatting. 12 pt fonts la, double space la, tabbing la, paragraphing la, distribution list la, address la, annexes la. KNN! Why can't some bimbo secretary do the necessary for me while I just dictate. Haiz. No point having a rank. It means shit unless you are a MS Word/Excel/Powerpoint expert too.

Did the P man return after office hours?

Did he send out another email of his own, which would mirror what ML and me already sent out earlier on, thus making us look like fools?

Did he realize he didn't get the email me and ML sent out cos his motherfucking mailbox was full?

Did he not KNOW that MS Outlook has an "Out of Office" option and he could actually forward his mail to ML while he was gallivanting during his leave?

Did he realize Boss is gonna fry his ass when he walks in on Thursday?

Did he remember to send out his resumes to the different factories in Yishun Industrial Park, cos he's gonna be out of a job real soon?

Did he? Did he not?

Stay tuned. Adventures of the P Man continues tomorrow. I'll try and update the story at noon if I'm free enough. But nah, my boss is in. I gotta work on my backstabbing a bit more. Face to face coupled with pained exasperating expressions is always better than on the phone and SMS.


"Hit you so severe, Your vengeance need not be feared."

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