Lately, I had been engaging in a rather fascinating topic which rather amazingly still exist in this 21st century; obsession with virgins. Despite all the advancement in all things around us it’s sad to note the evolvement is still not beyond the point where one’s sexual experience does influence on a person’s social status. Most guys, even though some might not admit openly prefers virgin women. Deep down, the male egocentric induced fantasy about having a “clean” partner ranks high in their wish list like the old saying, “Men like to boldly go where no man has gone before.” It is an instinctive behavior ingrained in human males from thousands of years of evolution. A case in point, the muslim terrorists think that if they become a martyr they'll get 72 virgins in heaven, silly motherfuckers.
The current epidemic rise of obsession with female virginity can be attributed to many factors such as bragging rights and pride. Some are looking to be the one that is remembered forever assuming that woman has a special memory on those who took it, probably to boast their ego while some merely don’t want a girl who had been with tons of guys before. Innocent in itself is captivating, which is why so many guys like the 18-21 girls. The idea of an innocent girl untouched is just a great aphrodisiac for men. However, most scholars agreed that the main reason behind this is no doubt the result of lacking in sexual confidence. It’s just as simple as she won't know if he sucks in bed because she has no expectations of what to expect.
The funny fact is most guys are virgins whilst girls are not, such impossibility do happen. Trust me; I can confirm that guys hate to be virgins. There’s nothing more fatal than death to be named the 30-year old virgin. Whether you like it or not there are more virgin men then women and as we all know they (referring to both virgin men and women) are actually endangered species on the verge of extinction with the new generation at hand, how sad.
Anyway, this obsession has to be put to an end. My point is does it really matters so much? If you’re attracted to that person, would you change your mind just because of her virginity status? I doubt it. Does it make you love her more or less if she’s a virgin? I doubt it. Does it make you more or less of a person if you've had sex or not? I doubt it either. Some skeptics have suggested that I only say this because it rhymes. Well, it does rhymes but the point is does it makes any difference? I doubt it.
For me, I’m not part of the number of men who are obsessed with virgins. Yes, you heard me and I’m not writing this to impress. It’s just not important to me, insignificant if compared to her personality and attitude towards life and things like that. I am happy for the girl if she has not succumbed to peer pressure or hormonal love but I can't see how it affects our relationship. If I had the choice, I would wait for someone that I truly cared about and expecting them to do the same for me. Sometimes you made the right choices sometimes you made the wrong choices bla bla bla, it’s all part of the continuing learning process just as long as it ends the right way, I hope it does and I won’t bored you with further details. Nonetheless, women who are still virgins today get my ultimate respect and adoration, I’m aware some is waiting to give something special to her husband that no other guy can say he’s had and that itself deserved much more respect than silly “whores” out there who fuck for a free dinner and a few glasses of COCKtails and as for men who are still virgins today, you deserved it too because it shows you have self control and restraint.
Am I giving moral-fibre statement here? Cosmic order of the Universal Morality/Spiritual perhaps? Or perhaps my inner holiness takes precedent over my inner ability to stop thinking in a very inner modest way? Or perhaps I prefer women who have some experience and know what she’s doing. Truth unveiled at last! Ahaaa……….
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Trials of the promethean curse
When I sit down and think about all the responsible things I had done and capable of doing, I ended up realizing the brutal truth that is what had been achieved is no way near being magical which is simply not good enough for smartass like me. Please do allow me to share with you my grief in a very humbly manner.
First of all, I thank God for giving me so much talent. Unfortunately, I could not live to up to the hype and after several weeks of deliberation a somber decision was made, I decided to neutralize my supernatural-powers and so I sat down with a psychiatrist. Here is some of her diagnosis on my fearsome powers.
1) I’m a gifted prodigy at dodging real problems.
Her comment: You live in a state of denial. Because of your monstrous egotism, you would blame anything except you when things are not going your way which is good considering you would not wasting time by feeling guilty and keeps your emo-ness in complete minimal. With this you would able to focus entirely on you pre-set priorities and you could be a millionaire by the age of 30 IN WHICH I MADE UP THE LAST PART.
2) I came out with an interesting theory on a daily basis and my latest (scientifically test proved) being the relationship between my name and my current level of laziness.
Her comment: Being a procrastinator is not at all a bad thing for you because when you are physically idle your mind swiftly enters into a realm-of-inner-metaphor-ism and your creativity tends to increase ten fold which explains the interesting theories that you had and your ability to made up stories in such realism that people would actually believe in you which does speak volume for your highly rated bullshitblog. This capacity is a subset of talent 1.
3) I flourish in talking the same bullshit to different group of friends or to same group on different occasions and impress them admirably.
Her comment: In today’s world, it’s imperative to have a good balance in both exaggeration and repetition of old shit. You manage to synchronize both and this could serve as a winning formula for success. This capacity is a subset of talent 2.
We ended our session in a quick 15 minutes because I do not think she is good at her job or she just being too sympathetic on my needs. I finished the conversation with a lofty “YOU HAVE NO IDEA ON WHAT YOU ARE DOING. YOU ARE THE WORST PSYCHIATRIST I EVER SEEN NOTWITHSTANDING YOU ARE THE FIRST ONE I MET. SHALL WE GO ON A DATE, INSTEAD?”
It’s sad to note that even people with supernatural-powers is not perfect and has its own flaw like Superman’s fear of kryptonite. I for one had far too many. The leader of all flaws, I JUST NEVER LEARNED FROM PAST MISTAKES. Don’t know. Don’t care. Don’t give a damn. Never have. Never will. How long will such immature ignorant act prolong in my utter shit world? How long would I need to suffer for my own stupidity? I could not help but feel disgusted and disheartened with myself for things that I keep repeating despite knowing it would lead me to the same shithole and my inability to learn time and time again left my loved ones in absolute repulsion and aghast and it’s a rather phenomenal mystery if you think about it that even a genius like me had no answer to. Mind you, it’s yet to be solved by our fellow thinkers as well.
This same fucking shit had me depressed far too many times. And when I’m depressed, I would spent a night in a brewery and when I spent a night in a brewery, I would be given the honor of a full-day hangover and when I have a full-day hangover, I’m depressed and the cycle would repeat itself all over again which does seems to has identical similarity to I JUST NEVER LEARNED FROM PAST MISTAKES. This on-going battle with depression was abruptly ended when my super-mother decided to take things under her own hands. “Enough is enough. You have to stop this” she said. Being my obedient way, I decided to publicly announce my intention to quit drinking with a hastily arranged press conference; I was almost in tears at that moment. 24 hours later after hearing my shocker, God was so angry that he decided to punish my country with heavy rains for the next few months and KL would be bloody flooded if no drastic action taken and left me with no choice but to sacrifice myself for the good of our people and the next minute I was in a drinking binge and we are back to square one, aren’t we?
To my fellow warriors, please do not give up and we will continue fighting no matter how long it takes us. To my two mates (names not to be disclose due to security reasons) who saved me from a shithole, dinner at my expense but go easy on the bill please.
First of all, I thank God for giving me so much talent. Unfortunately, I could not live to up to the hype and after several weeks of deliberation a somber decision was made, I decided to neutralize my supernatural-powers and so I sat down with a psychiatrist. Here is some of her diagnosis on my fearsome powers.
1) I’m a gifted prodigy at dodging real problems.
Her comment: You live in a state of denial. Because of your monstrous egotism, you would blame anything except you when things are not going your way which is good considering you would not wasting time by feeling guilty and keeps your emo-ness in complete minimal. With this you would able to focus entirely on you pre-set priorities and you could be a millionaire by the age of 30 IN WHICH I MADE UP THE LAST PART.
2) I came out with an interesting theory on a daily basis and my latest (scientifically test proved) being the relationship between my name and my current level of laziness.
Her comment: Being a procrastinator is not at all a bad thing for you because when you are physically idle your mind swiftly enters into a realm-of-inner-metaphor-ism and your creativity tends to increase ten fold which explains the interesting theories that you had and your ability to made up stories in such realism that people would actually believe in you which does speak volume for your highly rated bullshitblog. This capacity is a subset of talent 1.
3) I flourish in talking the same bullshit to different group of friends or to same group on different occasions and impress them admirably.
Her comment: In today’s world, it’s imperative to have a good balance in both exaggeration and repetition of old shit. You manage to synchronize both and this could serve as a winning formula for success. This capacity is a subset of talent 2.
We ended our session in a quick 15 minutes because I do not think she is good at her job or she just being too sympathetic on my needs. I finished the conversation with a lofty “YOU HAVE NO IDEA ON WHAT YOU ARE DOING. YOU ARE THE WORST PSYCHIATRIST I EVER SEEN NOTWITHSTANDING YOU ARE THE FIRST ONE I MET. SHALL WE GO ON A DATE, INSTEAD?”
It’s sad to note that even people with supernatural-powers is not perfect and has its own flaw like Superman’s fear of kryptonite. I for one had far too many. The leader of all flaws, I JUST NEVER LEARNED FROM PAST MISTAKES. Don’t know. Don’t care. Don’t give a damn. Never have. Never will. How long will such immature ignorant act prolong in my utter shit world? How long would I need to suffer for my own stupidity? I could not help but feel disgusted and disheartened with myself for things that I keep repeating despite knowing it would lead me to the same shithole and my inability to learn time and time again left my loved ones in absolute repulsion and aghast and it’s a rather phenomenal mystery if you think about it that even a genius like me had no answer to. Mind you, it’s yet to be solved by our fellow thinkers as well.
This same fucking shit had me depressed far too many times. And when I’m depressed, I would spent a night in a brewery and when I spent a night in a brewery, I would be given the honor of a full-day hangover and when I have a full-day hangover, I’m depressed and the cycle would repeat itself all over again which does seems to has identical similarity to I JUST NEVER LEARNED FROM PAST MISTAKES. This on-going battle with depression was abruptly ended when my super-mother decided to take things under her own hands. “Enough is enough. You have to stop this” she said. Being my obedient way, I decided to publicly announce my intention to quit drinking with a hastily arranged press conference; I was almost in tears at that moment. 24 hours later after hearing my shocker, God was so angry that he decided to punish my country with heavy rains for the next few months and KL would be bloody flooded if no drastic action taken and left me with no choice but to sacrifice myself for the good of our people and the next minute I was in a drinking binge and we are back to square one, aren’t we?
To my fellow warriors, please do not give up and we will continue fighting no matter how long it takes us. To my two mates (names not to be disclose due to security reasons) who saved me from a shithole, dinner at my expense but go easy on the bill please.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
The laws have changed, I dare to say
Every night I have been telling myself that out there somewhere there’s a girl who would blend perfectly well with my otherwise humble, pleasant character. Of course after more than 300 years of existence I found one (excluding ex) but God loves to test me because the girl was happily married when I found her (with a generous exclaimed of what the hell??). Sometimes I wish if God has an undo button so that I could rolled back the years to convince her that she’s destined to be with me and our first kid would be the next Cristiano Ronaldo and she would be the most happiest girl ever although it made no sense at all.
If there’s one lesson in this world that I found it hard to learn, it has to be a date with a gold digger as the brutal truth is I had been “educated” the expensive way before. It might sounds like basic knowledge, but most guys especially the past me usually don't think with the big head when they first meet a hot woman. On my last date, I reluctantly recommended a very PRICEY restaurant. As much as I love to impress on a first date, I was hoping for a simple no but because she knows that I’m going to work my ass off to pay the bills she surprisingly say yes. Things are going well for the first 20 minutes when in a somewhat astonishing twist, she starts to talk about not having enough watches and bags. My hopes of engaging in an intelligent discourse with her were crudely dashed as I believed she was someone who had an intellect despite the fact that she does inherited the “Chinese girl ADD” and she dressed like a Taiwanese pop star and she doesn’t speak English well and she idolises Edison Chen. My lungs was shrinking, I was left gasping for air, flashes of manhole pass me by, I could hear evil demons laughing while repeatedly shouting “loser” and I swear to God at that exact moment I saw Kanya West and Jamie Foxx belting out their hit right opposite our table!
You see, I don’t expect much from my first date. I don’t care if she makes burp or fart sound while she’s eating. I don’t even care if she has 20 sex partners. I’m not faulting her for being materialistic either or rather the aftermath of the next 20 minutes of conversations that we had, on how she indulged with her bigoted, myopic, sexist, inherent stupidity random thoughts and about how men should treat their “species” and the way she presents herself which akin to an obsolete piece of shit desperate to be sold in a mega sale and the blatantly obvious empty space in her brain that annoys me much or put in a nicer manner, extremely off-putting. It only serves to reinforce the myth that pretty girls are generally stupid.
Calmness has always been my forte and the conversation had masterfully directed towards me on having my own MASTERPLAN in becoming a millionaire at the age of 30 in which I explains in a very difficult manner, balancing between the need to charm her “you have to believe this shit” without prompting her asking for details and I would married her if she can gives me two kids named after my great-great grandfather, Al Palacious and my great-great grandmother, El Francesca and she will have no problems in paying the bills of their great-great grandson, Al Fabieno and for once fate works in my favor, she seemed very much convinced if not amazed. With confidence at its highest point and a penchant for stupidly grandiose, instinctive ingenuity of bullshitting starts to take control when I talk about how Albert Einstein discovered gravity, how Neil Armstrong landed on Pluto and Sepak Takraw was invented by the British. Shockingly, she seems even more convinced or my guess is she was just too nice to say, “Shut up and finish your food, you fool. Can’t you see I’m a shell?”
I’m coming to my senses now. Outer beauty is a preference for over-flooded testosterone charged male species for what had became a past tense to me. I know that it's hard to resist the sweet-cute-innocent looking damsels or the hot-steamy-sexy lady but if you have to “cherish” someone why not choose someone whom you can be proud of beside looks. I’m not going as far as to say I’m open for a date with a Goddess of Fertility but intelligent woman had me lust with ecstatic admiration. Lovely!
If there’s one lesson in this world that I found it hard to learn, it has to be a date with a gold digger as the brutal truth is I had been “educated” the expensive way before. It might sounds like basic knowledge, but most guys especially the past me usually don't think with the big head when they first meet a hot woman. On my last date, I reluctantly recommended a very PRICEY restaurant. As much as I love to impress on a first date, I was hoping for a simple no but because she knows that I’m going to work my ass off to pay the bills she surprisingly say yes. Things are going well for the first 20 minutes when in a somewhat astonishing twist, she starts to talk about not having enough watches and bags. My hopes of engaging in an intelligent discourse with her were crudely dashed as I believed she was someone who had an intellect despite the fact that she does inherited the “Chinese girl ADD” and she dressed like a Taiwanese pop star and she doesn’t speak English well and she idolises Edison Chen. My lungs was shrinking, I was left gasping for air, flashes of manhole pass me by, I could hear evil demons laughing while repeatedly shouting “loser” and I swear to God at that exact moment I saw Kanya West and Jamie Foxx belting out their hit right opposite our table!
You see, I don’t expect much from my first date. I don’t care if she makes burp or fart sound while she’s eating. I don’t even care if she has 20 sex partners. I’m not faulting her for being materialistic either or rather the aftermath of the next 20 minutes of conversations that we had, on how she indulged with her bigoted, myopic, sexist, inherent stupidity random thoughts and about how men should treat their “species” and the way she presents herself which akin to an obsolete piece of shit desperate to be sold in a mega sale and the blatantly obvious empty space in her brain that annoys me much or put in a nicer manner, extremely off-putting. It only serves to reinforce the myth that pretty girls are generally stupid.
Calmness has always been my forte and the conversation had masterfully directed towards me on having my own MASTERPLAN in becoming a millionaire at the age of 30 in which I explains in a very difficult manner, balancing between the need to charm her “you have to believe this shit” without prompting her asking for details and I would married her if she can gives me two kids named after my great-great grandfather, Al Palacious and my great-great grandmother, El Francesca and she will have no problems in paying the bills of their great-great grandson, Al Fabieno and for once fate works in my favor, she seemed very much convinced if not amazed. With confidence at its highest point and a penchant for stupidly grandiose, instinctive ingenuity of bullshitting starts to take control when I talk about how Albert Einstein discovered gravity, how Neil Armstrong landed on Pluto and Sepak Takraw was invented by the British. Shockingly, she seems even more convinced or my guess is she was just too nice to say, “Shut up and finish your food, you fool. Can’t you see I’m a shell?”
I’m coming to my senses now. Outer beauty is a preference for over-flooded testosterone charged male species for what had became a past tense to me. I know that it's hard to resist the sweet-cute-innocent looking damsels or the hot-steamy-sexy lady but if you have to “cherish” someone why not choose someone whom you can be proud of beside looks. I’m not going as far as to say I’m open for a date with a Goddess of Fertility but intelligent woman had me lust with ecstatic admiration. Lovely!
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Here's your future
The odds are against me; I was late, I am about to present an incomplete assignment and my partner is nowhere to be seen. I’m literally screwed up in any imaginative way. Standing right in front of my manager, I was speechless for 5 minutes with my mind scrambling for a means to save myself but my brain works in a funny way because I ended up picturing yesterday match winner performance from Cristiano Ronaldo, giving me every reason not to dwell on the current situation. Then, turning in a dramatic fashion with a ferocious sense of heroism I said with a grin “Do you watch yesterday game?”
The lesson that I learned from the unfortunate incident is not to watch a football game on a Monday morning or not to eat nasi kandar for breakfast, lunch and dinner. In fact, I learned to know how my brain works! If I use my left brain more, I’m a mathematical genius which self explains me being stuck in an accounting profession, staying sober and dealing with people who think their fart smells better than yours. If I use my right brain more, I’m a deviant rock star who will has lots of money, sex, alcohol and more sex and dealing with people who sniff their own ass. I could not differentiate which side of my brain that I used more for Friendster is lame and Facebook is childish. Since I’m still sober and surrounded by pricks with calculators, I’m a left sided brainer for now though with the presence of alcohol, I do feel like a rock star.
On other note, it’s a brand new year. And as a customary to all new years, I have to make a plan and this year will be different from the past. I had concluded that it’s time for Fabien to grow up. I’m going to be 26 and things are not in equilibrium anymore with my belly catching up real fast. The real distinction as opposed to the past is the plan is a medium term, not a short term and has to be realistic, not to give me every reason to be drunk for unachieved targets. And the direction of my plan is purely influenced by wealth and not other things. If you disagreed, so be it.
I’m going to quit my job at the end of this year and leaving this country (I will miss Malaysian politics for sure). Possible destination would be Qatar, South Africa or Bermuda. Join an audit firm again as a stepping stone and look for an Investment Bank as an analyst. I can’t foresee myself being an auditor in my next life in fact I despised it, my motivation at work is declining fast. I don’t mind working long hours if it’s on something of my interest and audit is never being one not even close. Maybe it’s different in foreign soil, maybe the planning is better and clients are more efficient but my inner stubbornness gives a fucking no. I’m fed up of drafting financial statements, I’m fed up of GAMX and I’m fed up with the International Accounting Standards Boards. The firm needs to buck up in retaining personnel but count me out of it. I’m tired of saying the same thing again and again and again. For confidentiality, the facts remained undisclosed. If the people responsible for the “mess” insist on maintaining the status quo, so be it. It is rather annoying to me (my mind, heart, limbs and all) but I respect everybody’s right to their own opinion. Anyway moving back on being an analyst, I’m yet to start my beloved CFA. It’s frustrating because it’s still in a no-action-talk-only phase in which I had planned it a few years back. This is the year where the tables would turn or about to and my ambition would be granted by the Lord of You-Get-What-You-Ask and decided to postpone my CFA for another year and not spill a word on it hence a no-action-no-talk phase. Things come in little steps, realistic is the key. It’s hard to break into the industry without proper qualification but since I’m such a supreme confident-big ego lad, I would give it a try anyway. Alternatively I could do corporate listing, corporate restructuring or risk management and if I were to do any of these I do have a choice of staying in Malaysia, probably not.
My first property would finalize as early as mid of 2009, enough time for research and polishing my real estate investing skill. The real obstacle is getting a loan with minimal or no interest which left me with no option but to seek the King & the Queen of Support Land; my parents. I’m working hard on it, day and night I assured you. On the other hand, I’m yet to grasp with the dynamics of our equity market. It baffles me whenever I look at the share price and sweat on my investments which consistently stay below the break even level. Warren Buffet no longer appears in my dream, how sad. Seeing a pool of assets fast becoming a liability is a strenuous task and less not forgets I’m stress intolerant. A little bit more than my usual take will drive me nuts. Now, most of you already thought I’m crazy even I’m at my normal best, so to take up the craziness to a higher level leaves a prospect that our nation would not be happy to face. I can’t be bothered to imagine it.
I had decided against going out for drinks, reasons are simple. I need my liver and I need to reduce the digits in my motherfucking credit card statement and I may save myself from further embarrassment due to my drunken stupor. May the gargantuan hangover gone for good. But this is tough as my right brain needs alcohol. It’s interesting to see how I’m to progress in the next few weeks and it do makes me wonder if my decision proved costly because I rejected the chance to be an engineer for the sake of money and money does not seem to be enough in my line. Only time will tells when my name is listed in the upper echelon of Fortune top 100. Anyway, I think accountant or engineer is a lifeless bunch of people, no offence. I should do law, at least they make good money and the chances of getting laid are high.
For 5 days a week, I would be left writhing into a rotten cabbage. In fact, I was practically praying for the end of the day. Am I pathetic? I’m not sure but I feel like Homer except weekends of course.
Happy New Year!
The lesson that I learned from the unfortunate incident is not to watch a football game on a Monday morning or not to eat nasi kandar for breakfast, lunch and dinner. In fact, I learned to know how my brain works! If I use my left brain more, I’m a mathematical genius which self explains me being stuck in an accounting profession, staying sober and dealing with people who think their fart smells better than yours. If I use my right brain more, I’m a deviant rock star who will has lots of money, sex, alcohol and more sex and dealing with people who sniff their own ass. I could not differentiate which side of my brain that I used more for Friendster is lame and Facebook is childish. Since I’m still sober and surrounded by pricks with calculators, I’m a left sided brainer for now though with the presence of alcohol, I do feel like a rock star.
On other note, it’s a brand new year. And as a customary to all new years, I have to make a plan and this year will be different from the past. I had concluded that it’s time for Fabien to grow up. I’m going to be 26 and things are not in equilibrium anymore with my belly catching up real fast. The real distinction as opposed to the past is the plan is a medium term, not a short term and has to be realistic, not to give me every reason to be drunk for unachieved targets. And the direction of my plan is purely influenced by wealth and not other things. If you disagreed, so be it.
I’m going to quit my job at the end of this year and leaving this country (I will miss Malaysian politics for sure). Possible destination would be Qatar, South Africa or Bermuda. Join an audit firm again as a stepping stone and look for an Investment Bank as an analyst. I can’t foresee myself being an auditor in my next life in fact I despised it, my motivation at work is declining fast. I don’t mind working long hours if it’s on something of my interest and audit is never being one not even close. Maybe it’s different in foreign soil, maybe the planning is better and clients are more efficient but my inner stubbornness gives a fucking no. I’m fed up of drafting financial statements, I’m fed up of GAMX and I’m fed up with the International Accounting Standards Boards. The firm needs to buck up in retaining personnel but count me out of it. I’m tired of saying the same thing again and again and again. For confidentiality, the facts remained undisclosed. If the people responsible for the “mess” insist on maintaining the status quo, so be it. It is rather annoying to me (my mind, heart, limbs and all) but I respect everybody’s right to their own opinion. Anyway moving back on being an analyst, I’m yet to start my beloved CFA. It’s frustrating because it’s still in a no-action-talk-only phase in which I had planned it a few years back. This is the year where the tables would turn or about to and my ambition would be granted by the Lord of You-Get-What-You-Ask and decided to postpone my CFA for another year and not spill a word on it hence a no-action-no-talk phase. Things come in little steps, realistic is the key. It’s hard to break into the industry without proper qualification but since I’m such a supreme confident-big ego lad, I would give it a try anyway. Alternatively I could do corporate listing, corporate restructuring or risk management and if I were to do any of these I do have a choice of staying in Malaysia, probably not.
My first property would finalize as early as mid of 2009, enough time for research and polishing my real estate investing skill. The real obstacle is getting a loan with minimal or no interest which left me with no option but to seek the King & the Queen of Support Land; my parents. I’m working hard on it, day and night I assured you. On the other hand, I’m yet to grasp with the dynamics of our equity market. It baffles me whenever I look at the share price and sweat on my investments which consistently stay below the break even level. Warren Buffet no longer appears in my dream, how sad. Seeing a pool of assets fast becoming a liability is a strenuous task and less not forgets I’m stress intolerant. A little bit more than my usual take will drive me nuts. Now, most of you already thought I’m crazy even I’m at my normal best, so to take up the craziness to a higher level leaves a prospect that our nation would not be happy to face. I can’t be bothered to imagine it.
I had decided against going out for drinks, reasons are simple. I need my liver and I need to reduce the digits in my motherfucking credit card statement and I may save myself from further embarrassment due to my drunken stupor. May the gargantuan hangover gone for good. But this is tough as my right brain needs alcohol. It’s interesting to see how I’m to progress in the next few weeks and it do makes me wonder if my decision proved costly because I rejected the chance to be an engineer for the sake of money and money does not seem to be enough in my line. Only time will tells when my name is listed in the upper echelon of Fortune top 100. Anyway, I think accountant or engineer is a lifeless bunch of people, no offence. I should do law, at least they make good money and the chances of getting laid are high.
For 5 days a week, I would be left writhing into a rotten cabbage. In fact, I was practically praying for the end of the day. Am I pathetic? I’m not sure but I feel like Homer except weekends of course.
Happy New Year!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)