Recently in Fucked-Up People Category

As drivers, we're used to seeing pedestrians jaywalk all the time. They cross half of the road, stand at the center divider waiting for the car to pass, before crossing the other half. We have no issue with that, just as long the pedestrian has common sense to cross the road quickly or wait for us to pass.

This evening, I was sending Jessie home. There was a slight drizzle a while ago, so the roads were pretty wet.

We were traveling along Tampines Street 11. An old man was standing at the center divider. He was looking in my direction and it was clear that he saw my car coming. No other non-suicidal pedestrian would cross the road at this point of time and I did not expect him to cross.

I was so wrong.

He had absolutely no sense of urgency and strolled (yes, strolled) across the road right in front of my car. I was only traveling at 30 km/h, so instead of swerving and avoiding him, I slammed on my brakes. And I forgot that I was driving an old car powered by ancient technology.

The steering wheel locked up and the car skidded along the wet road. I freaking froze! Jessie froze as well. The car stopped just short of the old man, inches away from hitting him.

He glared at us angrily. He had absolutely no idea that he was so close to seeing his parents today.

I wound down the window and yelled at him at the top of my voice.

He is the craziest pedestrian I have ever met and I have never come this close to hitting someone with my car. He may be able to pull this stunt off today, but I guarantee you that this idiot's luck will run out one day and he'll be dead in no time.

Bogged down by all my skating equipment, I struggled to keep my little finger on the "OPEN" button. Both my skates were in mid air, dangling off my four other fingers.

The China lady took her time, carried her little boy into the pram, strapped him up before strolling into the lift. The boy's grandmother followed behind.

My fingers were close to shivering as I held the lift door open for a full ten seconds.

When we reached the ground floor, the same thing happened. Another ten seconds of holding the door open for them, as they took their time to move off.

They didn't even bother to smile or say thank you. They just looked straight ahead and walked off.

I was standing outside 7-11 , opposite PSB Academy (Tiong Bahru) smoking during my 15-minute break. Jessie and my friend went in to get some drinks, and stood outside, simply just looking at the grass, enjoying the nicotine infusion, when an old man approached me.

He was shabbily dressed in a old grey short sleeved shirt, and dirty green shorts. His hair was all gray, unkempt. A huge tote bag overflowing with clothes, hung heavily across his left shoulder. There was a pungent sourish stench around him. I'm in no position to judge him or call him homeless guy or a beggar. I'm simply contented with the term old man. But he was clearly infected with the highly infectious I'm-Fucked-And-I-Don't-Know-What-I'm-Doing disease, as he was constantly scratching the huge greyish black scabs on his arms. The smell of cigarette smoke drew him nearer, like a mouse to cheese.

Old man : Can I have a cigarette, young man?
Me : This is my last stick. I am smoking this. (and I seriously swear upon every God listening at that point of time, that I discarded my empty crumpled Marlboro Lights pack into the bin)
Old man : Can you go buy a packet? I will pay you for the cigarette.

I am seriously fucking pissed. I've had secondary school dropouts asking me for cigarettes, but when I shrugged them off, they walked away. But this... this old man... was simply fucking persistent, fucking smelly and fucking testing my patience. Break all my fingers and smash all my toes, but I really really really don't want to touch him. It's just like putting your hand into a bucket of rotting cheese.

Me : No. Go, I don't have anything for you.

Jessie, noticed the guy talking to me, and at that point of time, gave me a whats-going-on glare through the glass panel. I threw Jessie a reassuring smile. Nothing wrong.

Old man : I know you have cigarettes in your pocket.

I felt a wave of anger sweep through my body. I said it twice. I don't know you. I'm not lying to you, don't fucking question me. I gave both my pockets violent pats. I wanted to sock his nose bridge, so suddenly, so surprisingly... so that it went deep in and impaled his brain. In fact, I didn't have to prove anything to him. He was an old man. His daughters or sons were probably not doing a good job. In fact I should be buying an entire pack for him. I should have pitied him.

Me : Nothing! Go!

And I turned my back on him.

Old man : *loudly* You are very selfish! You have! But you don't want to give. God have eyes. God will see. God will PUNISH you.

Oh! So now you're using religion against me. Go fuck whichever God you're praying to, who encourages addiction.

I laughed sarcastically, with my back still facing him. There were people walking around, still oblivious to the situation. I laughed, I snickered and made noises to spite him. I grinned. I didn't look at him, but I could hear the drag of his slippers as he walked away.

If you're seriously broke, cigarette addiction would be the last of your worries.

Later on in the night, I was at Marche Vivocity, having dinner with Jason, celebrating his 21th birthday. Jessie came back to my table with a bottle of Bundaberg ginger beer, which I told her to help me buy. And like a small kid opening a Christmas present, I slipped my finger through the ring tab and prepared to pull. I exerted a little bit of force, trying to locate the point of resistance. Then..

Boom! The cap ricocheted off my fingers and away. Surrounding tables turned around to look. Kids kept quiet. The sound was like a champagne cock popping off. They all stared. I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say, so I poured some into the glass of ice and exclaimed loudly, It still tastes like ginger beer! They seemed satisfied with the explanation, but I wasn't. So I asked one of the staff, who politely told me that someone must have shook the bottle hard. I asked Jessie if this was some kind of a prank, she denied.

Then again, from an optimistic point of view...

1) Shake a bottle of ginger beer before serving, at Marche.
2) Serve it to whom you hate most.

Good luck!

Some lady in our project group fucked up big time. We were fooled by her initial friendly appearance, and agreed to let her join our group months back. She complained to us about her previous team mates, who were biased, arrogant, cocky and rude towards her. Now we ALL know why...

1. She sent me a half-fuck report all in point form, on the date of submission.
2. We only asked for 2 presentation slides, yet it was so badly done that she, herself, didn't know how to present her own work.

She did that twice in a row for both concurrent projects! And her wonderful excuse was... I tried to do the project ALL weekend but my mind was BLANK. Cannot think of what to write.

Jessie got so stressed up clearing up the shit for her all day while I was busy compiling the other reports to meet the 7pm deadline.

She saw us coming into class, turned around, tried to talk to us when Jessie slammed, LOUD!, yes, slammed her bag on the table and stared at her. So she quietly turned back. Jessie was fuming mad, and I had my hands behind her, just in case she leaned forward and slapped her. When class ended, the lady packed her bag and quickly left.

Tell me how not to be angry with her? I really hope you guys don't bump into such people in life.

Caught sight of this terrible mess under Jessie's block in Bedok as I was escorting her upstairs.

How fucked up and inconsiderate can people get nowadays?

I got into a Yellow Top cab at around 4am outside Jessie's place. Shagged out and tipsy after a night of drinking.

The taxi driver was a friendly one and we engaged in small talk. He asked why I was here - sending my girlfriend back home.  He asked about what I was doing now - I lied to him that I was a Business Student at NUS, as well as a Pilot Trainee dropout.

The conversation went on fine. Then he said something which made my balls drop.

Uncle : I've been driving for almost 24 hours already

Me : What?! You still awake or not?

Uncle : I play Taiqi at Bedok Stadium 3 times a week. No problem. Still awake.

At that point of time, I was afraid that he might fall asleep along the long straight ECP stretch, so I tried to keep him awake by asking about his family, what his kids were doing and fuck-shit like that. Then he said something which made my balls drop.  

Uncle : In 2 years time, the universe will end.

Me : Why? *And I was thinking : Fuck! You suicidal or something???*

Uncle : There will be a Supreme One who will be coming down soon. And the signs of his coming are already appearing. Bird flu...etc..

Me : Uhuh..

Uncle : In China, they reported a certain number of deaths from bird flu (I think he said 700 or something). But DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE REAL NUMBER IS?!

Me : No.

Uncle : 10,000. The Chinese government is trying to cover up.

I tried to find out the source of his insanity... Then he said something which made my balls drop. 

Uncle : I believe in Falun Gong.

Me : *Geesh! Fuck!* Isn't that banned here?

Uncle : No. No religion can be banned if we fight for it. The Chinese government however TORTURED our Falun Gong followers! *He got quite vocal at this point*

Then he began on the gross descriptions of how the people were tortured. And he commented on the BodyWorlds exhibition in Singapore. Still remember the exhibit of the woman with a 8-month old fetus still in her stomach? He claimed that she was murdered in China solely for the purpose of this exhibit.

It was about fucking bloody time we reached my place. As I was about to get off the cab, he told me to WAIT. He had one final thing to show me. I thought he was going to mutate or something, but he took out a clear file. And what I saw made my balls drop. 

A woman with mutilated breasts. The Bodyworld's Pregnant Lady exhibit, this time she was lying on a surgical table in a Chinese hospital. Another woman with burns all over her face. A guy with his face beaten to pulp. A body without the internal organs.

WHAT THE FUCK MAN! You crazy psychotic fool!

He shoved me a pamphlet, told me to call the handphone number written behind it, before he finally let me off. 

Crazy crazy taxi driver!