Friday, December 28, 2007

Hello Taiwan Pt 4 - The Language Stories

I've got a serious deficiency when it comes to Mandarin. This is common knowledge amongst those who know me, but two events have escalated this to a point where it has been tickling LB all trip long.

The Airport Story

No, we didn't get on the wrong flight or missed our plane, although we came close to it again. We are incorrigble people who never learn from our mistakes, but that's a story for another time.

When I first arrived in Taiwan, I got questioned at the immigration counter on my purpose of visit. I figured this was common practise, given that I was there for 13 days and no Taiwanese would fathom anyone silly enough to spend that long a time in Taipei.

I will write the following conversation in Hanyu Pinyin and re-write it (or attempt to) in Chinese when I get back.

Officer: "Ni Lai Taipei Ji Tian?"

(How long are you staying in Taipei)

Me: "13 days"
Officer: "Ni shi lai zhe bian chu cai ma?"

This entirely baffled me. Mainly when he said "Chu Cai". I immediately turned to LB and he started giggling.

'Chu Cai' ? Why would anyone ask if I was coming to Taipei to cook? I mean, do I fucking look like Jamie Oliver? Was I even carrying onions on me?

Me: "What?"
Officer: "Ni shi lai liu xing ma?"

(Are you here on holiday)

Me: "Holiday."

He cleared me eventually and once LB made it past it was clear from his grin that he was entertained by my little conversational hiccup.

Me: "What the fuck was that guy asking?"
LB: "He was asking if you are here for work la."
Me: "Work? I thought he was asking if I came to Taiwan to cook."

The Starbucks Story

On regular days, or if I really didn't have an interpreter such as LB with me, ordering coffee at Starbucks in Taiwan wouldn't be much of a tall order, even with my limited linguistic arsenal. It's Starbucks, they all ask the same shit.

I just place my order and they ask for my name. I give it and I walk to the counter at the end to get my drinks. Simple. It's like winning polio kids at a 100m dash.

LB: "One cafe latte and one iced mocha."

The guy mumbles some jibberish and I took it as cue for me to step in and say my name.

Me: "Wo de ming zhi jiao Shaun"

(My name is Shaun)

The coffee guy stared blankly at me and LB started giggling. If my deductive senses were anything to go by, I believed I fucked up again, somewhere along the line.

LB: "HAHAHAHAHAHA! He's asking you if you want whipped cream la! Why you so stupid?"

Hello Taiwan Pt 3 - The Clubs

If Taiwanese partying includes a staple fest of bar top stripping on impetus or under the mild influence of alcohol, then point me in the direction of the migration department. I am surrendering my privilage of a Singaporean passport.

Just last night we were at Lava and we saw two girls who took off their tops. Well , one actually removed her bra and flung it to the crowd and it took a full 5 seconds before the bouncers charged up to her with a towel.

Sure, in Singapore, you would have won the crowd over, raised a pandemonia of cheers and even stopped me from gulping free alcohol by the bar, but you will also probably be arrested and thrown in the back of a police van and sent to Changi Prison to be hung the next day.

In Taiwan, they let you off with a quick word and quietly allow you up on stage again for another routine of hedonistic seduction. Praise the ludicrous tolerance for debauchery. We have found our paradise.

The other huge plus points for Lava was their 600NT all you can drink bar cover. I got so excited I nearly pre-ejaculated when I received my first glass of whiskey coke. 4 glasses later and they started having some competition where they got 6 girls to go on stage to dance for 2000NT.

The winner was this girl who also took off her bikini top, but she had her lady bits covered with her hands. I cheered mildly at her win, took a huge gulp of my Bailey's milk, then shouted,

"Take it off!!"

The girl next to me stared at me in digust. Fuck her. I think she was pissed cos I was shouting in English.

Back to our clubbing escapades in general, we've actually made tons of friends in the clubs. Yes, I have alot of pictures to remember my night by. And we also have a VERY hefty drink tab to give me nightmares when this trip is over.

I might have to review my tactics at the clubs. Currently, I am adopting what I call net casting. I go out, approach girls in groups and get them back to our table. There, I make superficial conversations with them before I venture out to bring in the next group. At a given time, we can have up to 3 groups with us, which almost amounts to 13 people, all strangers and united by society's greatest social cohesive, Alcohol.

I love alcohol. LB hates it, but he loves the girls that comes with it.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Hello Taiwan Pt 2 - The Angel Story

If her name was anything to go by, she was perhaps God sent. A divine intervention to ignite our otherwise malaise bout in the run by mill clubs and barrage of pretty dolls at the clubs, and streets. And sometimes by the toilet corridors.

Her name was Angel.

And since Jesus turned water into wine, I believed she saw it as a religious duty to subscribe to it like some holy communion, because that bitch was drunk. What was actually commendable was her ability to actually attempt to walk home in her state of inebriation. And believe me, she was so drunk, you could light the air around her when she exhaled.

How did I even managed to embroil myself in the ensuing debacle? I didn't.

One minute I was chatting up some carpark attendant and the next minute, LB was calling out for me with a chick in his arms. Perhaps it was the whole bottle of Grey Goose, but the sight of her pinballing from car to car, stopping at every possible support to compose herself, absolutely cracked me up.

Me: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.. Where the fuck did you find her?"

Perhaps it's an inbuilt mechanism but my reaction to drunks and watching them fall all over the place is somewhat of a closet entertainment of mine. One day I will film these and when I've exhausted all the transsexual midget porn on the net, I will have something to keep me smiling. Nothing beats watching people injure themselves, especially when alcohol is just a pain killer. Best so if I have a latte in hand.

LB: "I don't know. She just popped out of nowhere."

We had gone from tired clubbers to good samaritians guiding the fallen star back through the back alleys. It was like dragging our spoils of a dead carcass back to the lair, which included alot of periodic support and at one point, LB even had her propped up between her legs.

Angel: "Where are yew goin' ?"
LB: "Home."
Angel: "Where am I goin' ?"
LB: "Home."

The ensuing conversation only proved that being drunk equates to having severe memory lost, because in the following 5 minutes or 1 metre we covered, she repeatedly asked us the same thing. So the only logical thing was to change the replies,

Angel: "Where am I goin'? "
LB: "Our place, for a threesome."
Angel: "Threesome? Let's go!"

And this was the most romantic thing anyone had said to us all day. Even if it was from some drunk ass who was shouting out 'threesome' in mandarin.

We naturally knew this lady was insanely drunk and up for anything we threw at her, because even though she was barely able to stand, she was still sober enough to reach for my dick. I immediately showed my displeasure of this by cupping her boobs in return.

There was only two problems to that. Getting her up the stairs and that she smelled really bad. I'm guessing she fell into a drain before we got to her or that she probably soiled herself. Either of which would have been punishable had we not been inebriated ourselves. And you know what happens to me when I'm drunk..


Eventually we decided having her up at our place wasn't such a good idea and we didn't know where consensual sex stopped and rape began. This girl was drunk, could hardly remember what we've been telling her but obviously sober enough to know if she's got a dick or two in her.

Angel: "What is your number?"
LB: "9.."
Angel: "NO! That is not a number!"

We spent the next minute convincing someone who was drunk that we weren't local. Have you any idea what that is like? It's like trying to convince a cow that milking her is for a purpose. She eventually got pissed cos she thought we were playing around and she went off.

Naturally we wouldn't allow such a blessed entertainer such as herself to run off that easily, so we tailed her. Until LB thought some guys were going to her rescue and were coming to beat us up. When you are at our state of induced intoxication, you will start running when anyone comes walking towards you.

The Second Night

Just as we thought Angel was going to be a one night memory, she re-appeared again the following night. LB had gotten lazy and I was hungry, so it only meant that I had to walk to the nearest convenient store alone to get a bowl of noodles, which turned out to be the best decision I made since deciding to flush the toilet bowl after taking a dump.

There she was, the familiar figure bouncing off the cars parked by the road shoulder, leaning off motorcycles and struggling to take a step. Her hair was in that familiar disarray and her scent perfumed with Johnny Walker's Black label. It was love at first sight, I didn't know whether to trip her or throw my mineral water bottle at her, just for a good laugh.

Me: "Angel!"

She stopped, stared at me, then raised her hand, which I presumed was to be a wave to acknowledge me.

She: "HIGH FIVE!!!!"

This was at 3.30am, at a street lined with low rise apartments and this girl was shouting from where she stood to me. For the record, I was merely 2 metres from her, so you can imagine how this entirely caught me by surprise.

She: "How you know me?"

She started stumbling over to where I was, wrapped her arms around me and dragged me to the corner. Had her breath not reeked like she just had a whiskey mouth wash, I might have responded with an erection to let her know it was perfectly alright to take me round back and rape me.

She was just as she was last night. Drunk and suffering from severe amnesia. Every 10 seconds, she would ask how I knew her name and where I stayed. Occassionally she flashed me her panties and guided my hands between her legs. I started giggling so much because I was sober and had less interest in her than I did the other night. Only one thought came to my mind.

I had to bring her up to entertain LB.

I told her I was heading up and she could come see my room if she wanted. She did. Baited and wrapped like an early Christmas gift I was preparing for LB.

Me: "LB, I got a present for you."

LB thought I brought a dog back because I'm always talking about kidnapping them. The moment Angel peered in, he burst out laughing.

The problem now was that none of us had any interest in fucking her and the plan now was getting her out of our place or more specifically, down the stairs. That whole debacle took about 30 mins and LB got so entertained because she was spouting jibberish, he started taking pictures of my attempts to get her down the steps.

When I finally got her out the door, she wanted to take me home with her and insisted I at least have the chivalry to escort her back. That code of honour, apparently does not exist in me, unless of cos you are gorgeous and I genuinely like you, and not when you are my late night laugh a line sideshow.

Her coax went from pleading, to dragging to fellating me through my pants and it eventually crumbled to a 'forget it'. I believed this was because I said she was smelly. Taiwanese are so sensitive these days.

Fuck her.

Hello Taiwan Pt 1

If you think Zouk is blessed with beautiful people, then you obviously haven't been to Taiwan's Room 18, or any of their upmarket clubbing joints for that matter. And if this is what Taiwan has to offer me as a welcoming gift, then I'm applying for citizenship.

I have NEVER been to a club where I wished I could take 85% of the girls at the club to some chapel round the corner to recite my wedding vows, with Elvis as witness of course. It's been one distracting night on Friday, it's like standing there and you say to yourself,

"This girl is hot!"

And 3 seconds later, when you are eyeing her ass as she walks off, the next hot chick rolls by, and you're at,

"But this girl is fucking hot too.."

A minute of this and you start wonder if everyone of them popped out from some billboard ad for some silly facial product.

It's at a point where even when I'm drunk, I start having hesitations on talking to them. These are women who are so hot, if they rejected me with a, "Go fuck a cow and leave me alone", you'll see me running with my pants down to fuck the first Marigold milk box I can find, even if it means running butt-naked to 7-11.

The real challenge there would be to actually find a whale, or someone ugly for that matter. Fodder crowd there is at a near nought and I'd have actually believed if selective entry was in place and they actually allowed us in cos we kept their cash register busy.

I kept smiling all night, even my pee came out smelly good.

Life here (at the clubs at least), would have been so much better had we actually had a larger group like we did the last time round. So, if any of you reading this now, and happen to be in Taiwan and want to party with us, leave me a message.

Total damage for our first day: 15,000NT ( SGD715.00). You can't even imagine how much we've spent at the point of typing this.

Yet, the highlight of the night came at 5.30am, courtesy of a girl called Angel. We call it, the Angel Story...

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Bye bye Singapore '07

If you haven't already heard about my Christmas and New Year plans, it means you are obviously not in my direct circle of friends. This is something for you to really work on. You should be. Everyone should love me. And those blessed enough to be, find me a liability when I'm drunk and hurling abuses at random idiots at Zouk's smoking area.

Yes, insulting people is enjoyable when I'm around.

I'm flying off to Taiwan for two weeks of mad partying and shopping with LB. Don't worry, I booked the tickets this time round, so I'm pretty sure our mis-adventures with flights will come to a halt and positive that the last airport debacle won't happen again.

Ah, Taiwan.. where the girls are pretty. I have one last city to paint in my colours of vice and debauchery before we bid farewell to 2007.

Lastly, for those interested in the yohgurt job and have emailed me, I've already replied you on who to look for. Do call him. They are still in need of girls.

Enjoy the read. I'm sure there's plenty for me to write on.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

You Are Fat When People Say..

There are things in life, which can be disputed on subjectivity. Like a person’s looks, taste in food, homosexuality and genocide. Then there are those that have no room for debate or polarizing objections. Being fat is one of them. If you’re fat, you deserve to be laughed at. There’s no dichotomy to this. Life is cruel as it is, we don’t need fat people to make it more miserable for us.

Contrary to general belief, obesity is a contagious disease and can hit you out of nowhere, like homosexuality and erectile dysfunction. One day you are sitting home eating a tub of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey, refusing to exercise and the next thing you know, you are whale. And you wonder why..

Unlike laziness and poverty, you can actually do something about obesity. It’s called bulimia and liposuction. Puking is way less painful than having people randomly throw ashtrays at you for being a whale. It’s part of our human rights to do so.

Generally, it’s always better to get a second opinion regarding weight issues, since most women who look like they learnt maths by counting their rib cages, tends to think they are fat and hence they continuously add to our death toll. Anorexia will soon be the number one killer in society, relegating Adrian Lim and asthma.

There are however, two very clear indicative lines that people will randomly throw at you that actually hints at your weight. And because everyone practices civility these days, they try to disguise it as a compliment. Those hypocrites.

These are what they actually mean when they say,

1. Did you lose weight?

You were fat before but you obviously shed pounds and you look better. Could be the corset working or clever disguise with black outfits. Either way, it’s casting you in a faltering light so you will be dating a lot more.

You know this only works on fat people because if you were slim and you lost weight, people say,
You lost weight! You’re so skinny now, you should eat more.

We don’t guess. We actually tell it to you, just so you know you can stop before you get audition calls for Castaway 2: Starvation revisited.

2. Looks like you’re having a good life

You are fat. Your friends have not seen you for some time and in that period you’ve gained a considerable amount of fatty tissues built up excessively around your neck, thighs and waist. This could be due to,

a. Lack of exercise. Of which you are forgiven for the first 3 kilos gained, but will be scorned and mocked thereafter.

b. Being in a relationship.

I’m not sure who ever said it was okay to lessen the makeup and start piling the pounds because ‘love is about overlooking the superficialities of appearance’, but that person is an idiot. And if you actually subscribe to this propaganda, then you are an idiot.

True love that will blind you to the realities of cellulite and hairy armpits is only found in Disneyland, where you can probably get a free blowjob from Goofy and still have Donald cheer you on. Even so, you don’t see fat ass Disney princesses prancing around. Love is beautiful, fat is ugly, they cannot possible co-exist. Period.

Sunday, December 09, 2007

The ZoukOut Toilet Inccident

ZoukOut is really just the clever marketing for the pink dollar. If you actually re-arranged the letters, you will discover that it actually spells, “Gay Pride Day”.

To begin with, I am not homophobic, seldom do I have issues with homosexuality. Occasionally I cheer them on, especially when it is two girls having their tongues down each other’s throats, I strangely find myself sometimes shouting, “grab her boobs”. Yet, my enthusiasm to watch men kiss each other in a manner where they look like they are sucking each other’s testosterones out, is like that of a eunuch at an orgy.

Even before I got in, I had one Caucasian guy offer me an indecent proposal with his friend,

He: “Hey, how’s it going? What you say, you and us come round back to some booth of something.”
Me: “I’d love to.”

I got him all excited and laughing and he had to share the joy with his friend,

He: “You heard him?! He said he’ll love to man!”

The perfect ending for some to this story would be to tell you about some Ménage à Troi, and you closet gays can flood me with hookup proposals, but I have no interest in men. And I hope you are smart enough to know I was kidding.

I’ve never really fancied ZoukOut much other than the fact of a myraid of eye candy and cleavage. I don’t think I’ve ever been this distracted walking before other than when I was in some Malacca street and I had to watch the floor for dog shit.

It was also simple to distinguish women from the ladyboys. The ladyboys were the ones whom in a group, looked like they were modelling for Victoria Secrets. They were also the only people who would actively come up to hit on me. It’s simple, people that hot do not need to hit on people like me.

The ONLY thing that was worth remembering was the girl who headbutted the toilet. Yes you read it right.

There was this girl who was so drunk she could even stand straight and when you are too drunk to even walk but you try to run, you know shit is going to happen to you. Not only was this girl drunk, she obviously need to pee very badly. I know this because people who are drunk do not run, unless we really need to..

One minute I see her running and the next, I see her tripping, flying head first into the side of those makeshift toliet cubicles, then concussing on the ground. She went from full motion running to being flatout in seconds. It was like watching stupidity moving at 5km/hour come crashing against reality. My reaction was that of a normal human,


I couldn’t stop laughing. No matter how hard I tried. I almost thought I might have to bite my tongue to ever stop laughing. I almost thought this was half time entertainment to keep us happy before Armin started spinning. The impact was so hard, there was a 'thud' loud enough to qualify her as a member of Stomp. I couldn’t believe what I saw, so I checked with the guy infront of me.

Me: “Did she just headbutt the toilet?”
Guy: “Yup.”

The guy looked at me as if I was some incarnate of the devil. He had absolutely no sense of humour. How can you possible see that shit and not even smile?

Her friends immediately came to her rescue, but she was already motionless by then and beyond her limits to stand unsupported. Her spectacle was in disarray and she only needed a visible bruise on her head to just kill me with laughter. I couldn’t stop giggling to a point where I couldn’t even pee straight after that.

That’s why I love alcohol.

EDIT: My friends are opening a yoghurt shop at Holland Village and they are looking for a girl to work for them.

We are looking for someone preferably 17-19 years of age. You don't have to be gorgeous but being pretty is a plus point since I will be patronising it often and I need something pretty to keep me smiling. If you are fat, do not apply. I don't want you stealing yoghurt while on the job.

Job Scope? Stand there look pretty and dispense the yogurt. How hard can that shit possibly be? Please send all enquries to

If you are looking for a job, just send in your contact and details. GIRLS only. They need people URGENTLY

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Hello Karma

Karma has been the most convenient excuse invented by mankind to allot all screw ups that has been flung our way and ran over like road-kill. Inevitably, we are all waiting for Karma to bitch slap us for that one misgiving we knew would come back to poke us in the ass.

Yes, we know it’s wrong to sleep with another person’s girlfriend, or wife for that matter, but should we really resist it when they are hot? We know retribution will come back to greet us one day, but we also know someone else is going to have it worse.

For starters, I can assure you that Karma is real and not some make believe children’s horror story like dengue fever or global warming. I know this because I’ve been largely acquainted with it.

Two years ago I was partying like I was going for a liver transplant and I was humbly brought down to reality by getting slapped with a drink driving charge. I’ve hooked up with women like I found them in a discount isle and have since continuously met with enough psychos and hook up tragedies to start my own mental institution. I’ve wanted to lace up my running shoes for evening jogs only to have the soles fall off.

Trust me, I cannot possibly make all these up. I get it; my life is ineluctably destined to palavering you with tales and providing you with that perfect afternoon entertainment. And on more than one occasion, this has been a guilty indulgence for you.

Well Butterfly, what goes around comes around.”

Yes, Karma is like syphilis. You know you have to wear a condom when you hook up with back alley prostitutes, but you didn’t and you’re now just waiting for it to hit you. Karma is really just the consequence of stupidity and disrespect for rules, sent to us by snail mail.

Come on let’s get this over and done with. I’ve been naughty, so spank me and drop some Santarinas off at my room when you are done.

1. Karma is a cock blocker

When people start thinking of consequences, we stop doing things our basic instincts tell us to. And to deprive our carnal instincts or pleasures for that matter, would be a grave injustice to our rights as humans. We should be allowed to pause retribution and do what we want to do, or maybe give a donation to some shady charity organization to appease Karma, in the aftermath of it.

You meet this person you really like (to fuck). It starts with cordial introduction and it blossoms into casual flirting. You know the attraction is mutual. The person makes a move on you and you arrest all possible developments and footsteps towards the bed because they are attached. One thing’s for sure,

You are an idiot.

You start reasoning your actions, bringing in horrible words like ‘morals’, ‘principles’ and ‘wrong’, words that absolutely have no meaning. These words could have easily been substituted with ‘sorry’ but you allowed Karma to cock block you even before your belt came off, which brings me to the next point..

2. Karma should be shared

We should be allowed to split the wrath of Karma. For instance, I meet a girl and in our drunken stupor, we hook up and by some stroke of sheer ignorance, I fail to remember she is married. Now, am I really to blame? No.

I get one third of Karma’s spit of fury, the girl gets one third and maybe a miscarriage somewhere down the line and Johnny Walker gets smite by a bolt of lightning for commodifying debauchery in a bottle.

Life has so much more to live for when you actually take out the equation of fear from retribution.

3. Karma works only one way

If you think Karma is a quid pro quo functioned mechanism of life, then you are wrong. Karma is really just retribution disguised under a different name. It’s like a transvestite; it looks good on the outside, but once you’ve peeled off enough layers and deconstructed the whole thing, you’ll discover the ugly truth of it.

As I’ve mentioned, Karma is really just consequence sent out by post. It takes awhile before it gets delivered and the good stuff usually just gets lost along the way. That’s postage for you.

Do something good and you’ll almost never get to rip the rewards. And whilst waiting for good Karma to repay you, you do something bad and shit starts happening to you. At this point you really should be wondering if Karma actually cancels each other out. They do, that much I can assure you.

I do tons of good deeds daily. Like keeping the toilet seat down, allowing people to cross at pedestrian crossings and traffic lights, paying for the café latte, the list runs on endlessly to a point where I can actually convince myself that I am a saint. Yet, I don’t get bukaked on with blessings as much as I get shit thrown at me.

4. Karma is not cumulative

As much as people tell you that they want amass good deeds so that Karma will repay them in the next life, you should really just ignore them. In medical science, there is a canonical term for people like them; people who are too far sighted for their own good. They are called, idiots.

What do you think Karma is? An amusement park machine where you accumulate your stupid tickets to exchange for that Elmo plush toy? You think Karma comes with a built in calculator for you to tally when you die? Do you really think you should give a shit about the next life if you have to be miserable in this one?

Look, this is real simple.

You are morally upright. You think pre-marital sex is wrong. You campaign to save the environment. You occasionally volunteer at Salvation Army. You are also ugly. What happens is, you die a virgin and never having watched porn because you think it’s demeaning to women. Sure, we’ll probably name a tree after you, but I really hope Karma gives you a 9 inch dick and some brains to actually use it in your next life.


You immerse yourself in decadence. You bath in the river of debauchery and probably with 20 other women together. Sure, fate hates you and Karma punishes you by never finding true love, ever. You might never find a girlfriend, but I’m pretty sure you might have fucked someone else’s along the way. Maybe twice even.

Live life today and let the person in your next life deal with the bullshit Karma is dishing out later.

5. Karma is erroneous

Karma like botox and Manolo Blahnik, is never perfect. Sometimes you fuck up and Karma actually lets you get away with it. Like, child molestation and murder. Just ask Michael Jackson and OJ Simpson about it.

The general rule I figured, is to fuck up so much so fast at once that Karma just accumulates all that under one deduction. For instance, when you cheat on your partner with multiple people, that only constitutes as cheating, because cheating is cheating, IS cheating.

People usually get too heartbroken and angry after a confession of, “I slept with..”, to even pay attention to what comes after that sentence. So, even if that sentence ended with “the entire football team”, your partner just gets angry and since they are usually already angry with you for sleeping with one person, it’s not really going to make a difference to you. It’s not like they are going to be having mood swings.

I’m going to be angry with you now, but I’m going to get happy later and angry with you again after that for sleeping with two other people..”

On a side note, strangely, the only people whom I know who have been consistently multi-cheating, are women. And I sometimes wonder why I’m still single..

So in finality, do we actually allow our lives to be ruled by a perpetual concern for Karma? Should we constantly look over our shoulders to see if Karma has caught our heels? No, because life is beautiful with backlashes.

Hello Karma, let’s get this over with..

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Butterfly Leaves Survey Woman Speechless

You've all had it. The telephone survey request that always seems to be catching you at mid movies, hounding you with endless questions, when they actually promised it would, "only take a minute of your time".

It was some lifestyle survey that got me answering questionaires like, "do you exercise regularly" and "do you watch what you eat". What am I? Richard Simmons? I drink beer and insult fat people, that's what I do. I was at mid movie and realised 'no' was the answer that would fast track me out of the whole ordeal.

Then it went on to some open ended questions about driving in the KPE and about describing some suggestions that I thought would be three useful safety tips for road commuters travelling in the tunnel.

Me: "Don't speed? Keep a safe distance? And always carry a baseball bat?"
She: "Why a baseball bat?"
Me: "Road rage is the number one traffic killer.."

She: "Sir, we're coming to the end of this survey. What in your opinion is the greatest cause for obesity in society today."

Me: "Stupidity."

It left her silent for so long, I actually thought the interview was over and that she hung up on me without so much as a verbal appreciation of my time in participating. The reply came so naturally to me, it was like giving birth. Apparently, I was wrong..

She: "Ermm.. it's a multiple choice question actually..."

Me: "Oh.. it's not one of the options huh? Hello?"

Silence fell again. I don't know if she was laughing or drinking slimming tea but I guess I leave women speechless out of bed as well. I love myself.