Friday, 26 February 2010

Rudeness and decorum are like jelly beans. You never know what you're going to get.

Kids these days are a clever bunch. Take my little cousins; they are not bratty in the sense that they do not roll on the floor when they don't get their favourite toys nor do they scream and shot like some primate not sucking on teat. They are, however, savvy in certain areas and are quite logical in their thinking. They've also developed a rather strong pecuniary sense as evident in their refusal in lending me 10 cents.

The little blighters.

But the best part about them? They're not rude. I can tolerate to a certain extent some rudeness but when you cross the line, you will be reprimanded and admonished. Sure, there have been times where they have answered me in a brusque manner but it wasn't out of spite. It's just their character and how they have been brought up.

Growing up, I was told to say my Thank You's and to respect elders. Failing to do so would have resulted in ears being turned the opposite direction and not allowed to revert back till after dinner. My father was adamant that we were polite to others and displayed civility at all times. Any antics would be punishable by some of, well, punishment. Of course, at that time, it wasn't fun at all as I needed to project to constantly be on my best behaviour whenever Dad was around, especially if we were in the company of his fellows. But I guess all that has done a lot to me now. I open doors for women and men alike, (though, strangely enough, I never let people cross the road when I'm driving, instead I'll speed up hoping for the idiots to jump out of my way) you know. 

The working world is prime example of how diverse (and downright shitty) people can be*. You get to meet and work with people who have little to no bedside manners, are indignant in the face of work (these are usually the mofos who are constantly bitching and yammering they have so much work but are just lying custards who surf all day and are on the phone), shameless sycophantic to the bosses, and the list goes on. Why are these people the way they are? Weren't they loved? Did they get their teddybears yanked away by the school bully? Why are they such a pain in the proverbial behind? And why do they end up getting the promotion I wanted?!

People are shaped by their upbringing, no doubt about that (I've mentioned something similar to this in another post, but I'm lazy to trudge through the archives) but there are several instances that do not conform to that. I know some people who are the nicest bunch you could ever ask for with devil spawn for children. I swear, if I had a holy rotan (rattan, cane, whip, you get the point) I'd unleash it upon them, smiting them righteously while gleefully giggling. 

But that's life for you. To those who are smug and cocky and conniving and who have attained high positions through crooked means, good for you. And for those who are good and nice and polite, well, time to change!

This is Chris, signing off. Politely.

PS: I can be rude when I want to, yes sirree. But I choose not to. Because I'm nice. Provided you treat me nice.

* = At first I wanted to put college world but then I remembered that everyone in college were either trying hard to impress or trying to be the dorkiest. I succeeded in both. Quite superbly, thank you very much.

Sunday, 21 February 2010

I love you means nothing.

It's as though the Brits are competing with the Yanks. But this time, I think the Yanks win this. Well, one Yank, anyway. 

We all know what Tiger Woods did. Only a person stuck in a very spacious and cozy cave would not know. And if you're a football fan, you'd also know the infidelities of at least two footballers. What they did is utterly shameful and further demonstrates the immoralities of people who have it all. Their arrogance led them to believe that their secret liaisons and hush-hush affairs would not go unnoticed let alone condemned when found out. But do they deserve to be publicly humiliated and flogged in the open by the media and every gossip-hungry auntie with a bad perm? No. I don't think they do. They do, however, deserve to be humiliated and flogged (metaphorically, naturally) by their family and friends but most especially by their partners (in the above cases, wives).

Hypocrisy go together in this sordid tale. These illustrious public figures have been fettered with various non-sporting awards to go with their chosen fields and some of it must surely draw at least reddened cheeks upon those who bestowed them in the first place. Awards such as, Best Dad and whatnot, have been given to these supposedly good dads when maybe just minutes before they got the award they'd have a quickie in the store room. These men would then go up on stage and put on the biggest and most insincere smile on the planet and proudly admitting that, yeah, I'm a great dad. How did they do it with nary a hint of remorse? Maybe they bit their lip but that could be just a sign of too much lip balm. 

Would I forgive if my future wife did it to me? The answer is a resounding no. Though, that's what is most likely to happen but I will only know if and when it ever happens to me, which, I hope it never does. Some people would say turn the other cheek, do what Jesus would do. To them, I'll say, I am not Jesus. And slap their cheeks*.

"I love you" never meant a thing if you've never felt it.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: I finally watched Tiger Woods' televised apology. By jove, it was one of the most robotic, unconvincing and rehearsed act I've ever seen. 

* - Gently, of course.

Friday, 12 February 2010

Arrows, hearts and oranges. Which of these don't match?

No long post from me. Just a simple wish of a blessed and pleasant Chinese New Year to all my friends and family. Remember to toss that yee sang higher than a tall building.
And to that special someone, Happy Valentine's Day.

Be nice.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: What? You actually thought this is going to be short post? Puh-leez! Well, the way I see it, Chinese New Year has become less about the celebration but more of an obligation. and another reason to parade one's latest Coach acquisition (by the way, Coach is becoming far too common as every Afro-haired auntie has one thus sullying its exclusivity somewhat). I see it with the rest of the major celebrations. Heck, Christmas is no longer about the birth of Christ, but how much wine and terrible fruit cake one can consume in a single dinner. Since Valentine's Day also falls on the same day as the first day of the lunar new year, it somehow has received precedence as every nook and cranny of the shopping centre I'm so fortunate to have below my work building has sprung a jewellery shop of some kind touting "Best Deals in Town!" when, really, their deals are crap. Nothing says love like a RM100,000 bracelet that looks like lint from your bellybutton.
Have a great holiday, my lovely bunions!

Sunday, 7 February 2010

When mouth is quicker than mind, you're screwed.

You know that feeling you get when you've said or done something you really meant for 5 seconds but you're now regretting it?

Welcome to regret.

Most of you know that I don't believe in regrets as it makes the mind dwell on unpleasant things when you could be relaxing on the beach with bikini-clad women running up and down the beach. But sometimes I wished I never did or I should've done things in a different way. It's happened to me many a time and it will happen again.

Human behaviour is such that we cannot never fathom the true feelings of someone even if you know the person like the back of your pretty hand. It's just not possible, the most is 99% accuracy because that remaining 1% can either make it or break it.
The mind is wondrous thing, a truly mysterious and magnificent thing. But when your mouth is quicker than your mind can process thoughts, you're screwed.

This is Chris, signing off.

P.S: This post was written in one of my foul moods quite awhile ago. The event that triggered this is long forgotten. 

P.P.S: Never bottoms-up 5 glasses of red wine. Just don't.