It's going horrendously. My nose is running. Zero appetite. I've resorted to satisfying nicotine cravings with Cadbury and Ferrero Rochers. Thank you Diana for the book and the chocolates. Bing is my new management guru.
Non-buying of ciggies: Day 2
My dad gives me a Jean Mercier tie, something nice in maroon and tells me, for Father's Day he has to gimme something instead of vice versa. I simply say, we all know who the king of the family nah?
You know how the escalators in Junction 8 change direction every 6 months. The ones on the left all go up in Jan and in June they are going down. Confusion I tell you. I think the same thing is happening to my bed. The polarities have been reversed for whatever reason I don't know. The stars have been changing position la I think.
Thus, now my head is at the foot of my bed and my foot is constantly being impeded by that damn invention called a head rest. Correct me if I'm wrong, but if something is a head-rest, you don't really curve it lumbar shaped like you gonna rest your spine on it right? Who the hell, sits up straight with perfect posture while nestling down to read that book that's gonna bore you to death and before that to sleep.
It's Wednesday again. How I dread this day. Firstly, who's the dumb prick who designated Wednesday as Ladies Night anyway. Is it that kinda fullproof marketing technique that is meant to attract the women to guzzle down free drinks knowing that at least 85% will not breach their limit since they still gotta walk in to office at 9 in the morning? And those dumb fuck men, who think ladies will be an easy lay on ladies night, and trudge down to wherever and spend twice the weekend prices on jugs and drinks only to be sorely dissapointed. Of course, if your aim was to just get a number, you'd prolly be happy like bird la. Tweet tweet tweet. But, nah, last I checked. Budget hotels aint really packed to the brim on Wed nights. Neither are luxury hotels for that matter.
And then the dominos fall. Wednesday is dissapointment. Maybe Thursday will be much better. Knowing the human psyche, one of the first to exploit this was DblO. Solid crowd they still draw on Thursdays. Solid fights too. Friday, Saturday nuff said. Torrential flood of botaks just booking out of camp, chicas on school leave, office workers who end up the night with their tie half done and their wallets half popping out of their back pockets. And then there are the career clubbers.
The ones who look unfazed, unrattled, even if there was a bouncer-sailor fistfight within 2 inches of their face. These are the ones who just wanna drink. Drink, watch whatevers displayed on the big screen. Laugh. Comment. Keep the waitresses on their payroll too. And just about breeze in and out of anywhere they choose to. Cover charges, lines, velvet ropes. Lan Jiao!
Which is why I say. In every sphere we operate in. There are the ones with the power. And there are the ones who don't. The ones who don't, don't really have to care if they don't need the power. These are of course the ones to which attendance to a club is macam like a class outing, and they gotta have a 2 week information time period, 1 week reminder time period, 5 hours before reminder to meet at this this station time period, 5 mins before counting the cover charge at the door time period. But then there are the power-less ones who want to break into the higher circles. The ones who sit and reflect one night, quite wrongly I might add, that they too should be in there schmoozing and moozing.
Wrong. Don't harbour thoughts. Unless you want to morph into a non-descript person in a decrepit lifestyle. The higher spheres don't seem fazed cos they never SEE the sun. They have a lack of Vitamin D. Thus, their pale complexions don't look bright and oily even under UV light. They seem to know everyone but it's just the SAME everyone 4 nights a week. Now wouldn't you get sick and tired too, kissin the cheeks of women and vigorously shakin the hands of men whom you know you're gonna see again in less than 24 hours only to repeat the routine. They have no life. What life they have is confined within the four walls of that joint. With aircon and tequila and a pool table and in certain cases some wild rowdy entertainment spectacle.
Non-buying of ciggies: Day 2
My dad gives me a Jean Mercier tie, something nice in maroon and tells me, for Father's Day he has to gimme something instead of vice versa. I simply say, we all know who the king of the family nah?
You know how the escalators in Junction 8 change direction every 6 months. The ones on the left all go up in Jan and in June they are going down. Confusion I tell you. I think the same thing is happening to my bed. The polarities have been reversed for whatever reason I don't know. The stars have been changing position la I think.
Thus, now my head is at the foot of my bed and my foot is constantly being impeded by that damn invention called a head rest. Correct me if I'm wrong, but if something is a head-rest, you don't really curve it lumbar shaped like you gonna rest your spine on it right? Who the hell, sits up straight with perfect posture while nestling down to read that book that's gonna bore you to death and before that to sleep.
It's Wednesday again. How I dread this day. Firstly, who's the dumb prick who designated Wednesday as Ladies Night anyway. Is it that kinda fullproof marketing technique that is meant to attract the women to guzzle down free drinks knowing that at least 85% will not breach their limit since they still gotta walk in to office at 9 in the morning? And those dumb fuck men, who think ladies will be an easy lay on ladies night, and trudge down to wherever and spend twice the weekend prices on jugs and drinks only to be sorely dissapointed. Of course, if your aim was to just get a number, you'd prolly be happy like bird la. Tweet tweet tweet. But, nah, last I checked. Budget hotels aint really packed to the brim on Wed nights. Neither are luxury hotels for that matter.
And then the dominos fall. Wednesday is dissapointment. Maybe Thursday will be much better. Knowing the human psyche, one of the first to exploit this was DblO. Solid crowd they still draw on Thursdays. Solid fights too. Friday, Saturday nuff said. Torrential flood of botaks just booking out of camp, chicas on school leave, office workers who end up the night with their tie half done and their wallets half popping out of their back pockets. And then there are the career clubbers.
The ones who look unfazed, unrattled, even if there was a bouncer-sailor fistfight within 2 inches of their face. These are the ones who just wanna drink. Drink, watch whatevers displayed on the big screen. Laugh. Comment. Keep the waitresses on their payroll too. And just about breeze in and out of anywhere they choose to. Cover charges, lines, velvet ropes. Lan Jiao!
Which is why I say. In every sphere we operate in. There are the ones with the power. And there are the ones who don't. The ones who don't, don't really have to care if they don't need the power. These are of course the ones to which attendance to a club is macam like a class outing, and they gotta have a 2 week information time period, 1 week reminder time period, 5 hours before reminder to meet at this this station time period, 5 mins before counting the cover charge at the door time period. But then there are the power-less ones who want to break into the higher circles. The ones who sit and reflect one night, quite wrongly I might add, that they too should be in there schmoozing and moozing.
Wrong. Don't harbour thoughts. Unless you want to morph into a non-descript person in a decrepit lifestyle. The higher spheres don't seem fazed cos they never SEE the sun. They have a lack of Vitamin D. Thus, their pale complexions don't look bright and oily even under UV light. They seem to know everyone but it's just the SAME everyone 4 nights a week. Now wouldn't you get sick and tired too, kissin the cheeks of women and vigorously shakin the hands of men whom you know you're gonna see again in less than 24 hours only to repeat the routine. They have no life. What life they have is confined within the four walls of that joint. With aircon and tequila and a pool table and in certain cases some wild rowdy entertainment spectacle.
The grass is NOT greener on the other side. Unless, your grass is some herb I so crave right about now. So, go out. Run free in the world. Enjoy the sun. Watch them movies. Play thy arcade. Shoot some hoops. Kick some balls. And stay off these mad cap joints they call clubs. You wanna join a club? Be a member? Join Club Rainbow - a club that matches you to little kids who are in need of an older role model and confidante. Join some sports club. Join a fantasy football club if you even wanted to. Don't crave the greater evil. Beer is the new 4 letter word.
Adieu!
Adieu!
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