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It started when I put Tom Yum paste instead of ground cinnamon into my coffee because both of the containers were the same. My shirt was ruined when I spit the tainted hot coffee outta my mouth, so I have to go upstairs and change. As I was about to stepped out of the door, my dog woa woa accidentally stepped on my bad toe; imagine 25kgs of concentrated full bodied dog meat come crushing down on a hurting and bleeding toe. It left me limping as I cut across the street from my house to my office. If there was ever a time that I need to be wheelchair across the street and carried up a steep flight of stair like a motherfucking cripple, it was now.
I was late for the meeting, thanks to my series of unfortunate events. Everyone was already waiting for me in the board room. Since I am already late, what the heck, I asked someone to fix me coffee because I didn't manage to have any this morning. She brought me a cup of coffee that tasted like cappuccino and some cakes which made it super awkward. I don't mind the coffee but the cakes were totally unnecessary. It made the room smell like butter. Sometimes, people just go out all the way trying to impress you but ended up doing a far worst job that they should. Man, these people I am having meeting with must be thinking I was the one who asked for the damn cakes. Sitting there in the board room, I couldn't get in a single thing that they were saying. I am so fucking pissed and my head feels like 3 times larger its size, compliments from a night of tequilas and scotches; all I can think of is who I am going to blow out at after this. I am looking for a person who going to fuck up the program and I am so going to bring him/her into my office and then blow them into smithereens. I am just sitting here fabricating and contemplating who I am going kick around later. Bloody hell! Am I turning into one of them bosses who gets off picking on workers because they had a bad day? Am I turning into something that used to haunt my working days and have sworn never to become? So I excused myself for not feeling well and asked them to continue on with the meeting without me. I gotta get out from that shit hole before I blow and unleash my wrath on the innocents. *closes eyes and breathe in slowly*
I was like the walking dead as I cross the streets to go back home, but my unfortunate events didn't just stopped there. Once again, my bad toe stepped into a puddle of muddy water which made it stinking painful. God damn it, why does it have to all come down on me today? I went home to fucking clean it before it gets infection, only to find out that I had a prior lunch appointment with my dad and a church minister. So I had to rush. Before this I have never seen the minister but HIS FACE!!! His repugnant face just gives me the creeps.
The lunch was a slow ass one, like it will never end; the motherfucking church minister just kept on talking and what registered in my brain was like this...HEBEDEE! JEBEDEE! HU-BLAA! ABRAHAM THIS AND MOSES THAT, JESUS HIT ME WITH A FUCKING BASEBALL BAT! Nothing seems to make sense at all; he just keeps talking and talking and talking. Jesus H Christ, if he takes the Sunday morning pulpit, you would very much find the church floor filled with dead bodies killed by his senseless and boring sermon and not to mention repulsive face. Right now I am a mushroom-cloud-layin' motherfucker; every time he opens his god damn mouth, I turned into super fly TNT, and I'm the Guns of Navarone ; I am God's motherfucking vengeance who would love to jump right over this table and rip his damn tongue off, shove it up his ass so that the next time his shit, it will be all over his fucking tongue. But right now, knocking his teeth in and giving that minister a fat lip is what I have in mind, the more I thought about it, the more exhilarated I get. I never really thought about it until now, but punching a man of God in the face is something I very much like to do. I am giving him 10 minutes; if he doesn't shut the hell up, I am fully justified to break his face and fucking ripped his head off with my bare hands. So I clench my fucking fist of hate and visualize what will be going down at T minus 9 minutes.

I was late for the meeting, thanks to my series of unfortunate events. Everyone was already waiting for me in the board room. Since I am already late, what the heck, I asked someone to fix me coffee because I didn't manage to have any this morning. She brought me a cup of coffee that tasted like cappuccino and some cakes which made it super awkward. I don't mind the coffee but the cakes were totally unnecessary. It made the room smell like butter. Sometimes, people just go out all the way trying to impress you but ended up doing a far worst job that they should. Man, these people I am having meeting with must be thinking I was the one who asked for the damn cakes. Sitting there in the board room, I couldn't get in a single thing that they were saying. I am so fucking pissed and my head feels like 3 times larger its size, compliments from a night of tequilas and scotches; all I can think of is who I am going to blow out at after this. I am looking for a person who going to fuck up the program and I am so going to bring him/her into my office and then blow them into smithereens. I am just sitting here fabricating and contemplating who I am going kick around later. Bloody hell! Am I turning into one of them bosses who gets off picking on workers because they had a bad day? Am I turning into something that used to haunt my working days and have sworn never to become? So I excused myself for not feeling well and asked them to continue on with the meeting without me. I gotta get out from that shit hole before I blow and unleash my wrath on the innocents. *closes eyes and breathe in slowly*
I was like the walking dead as I cross the streets to go back home, but my unfortunate events didn't just stopped there. Once again, my bad toe stepped into a puddle of muddy water which made it stinking painful. God damn it, why does it have to all come down on me today? I went home to fucking clean it before it gets infection, only to find out that I had a prior lunch appointment with my dad and a church minister. So I had to rush. Before this I have never seen the minister but HIS FACE!!! His repugnant face just gives me the creeps.
The lunch was a slow ass one, like it will never end; the motherfucking church minister just kept on talking and what registered in my brain was like this...HEBEDEE! JEBEDEE! HU-BLAA! ABRAHAM THIS AND MOSES THAT, JESUS HIT ME WITH A FUCKING BASEBALL BAT! Nothing seems to make sense at all; he just keeps talking and talking and talking. Jesus H Christ, if he takes the Sunday morning pulpit, you would very much find the church floor filled with dead bodies killed by his senseless and boring sermon and not to mention repulsive face. Right now I am a mushroom-cloud-layin' motherfucker; every time he opens his god damn mouth, I turned into super fly TNT, and I'm the Guns of Navarone ; I am God's motherfucking vengeance who would love to jump right over this table and rip his damn tongue off, shove it up his ass so that the next time his shit, it will be all over his fucking tongue. But right now, knocking his teeth in and giving that minister a fat lip is what I have in mind, the more I thought about it, the more exhilarated I get. I never really thought about it until now, but punching a man of God in the face is something I very much like to do. I am giving him 10 minutes; if he doesn't shut the hell up, I am fully justified to break his face and fucking ripped his head off with my bare hands. So I clench my fucking fist of hate and visualize what will be going down at T minus 9 minutes.














I woke up feeling sick; sick of waking up; sick of opening these eyes; sick of breathing; sick of being here, alive and hopeless and aimless; sick of this pain and this rage; sick of being lock up in my head and the motherfucking air around me feels like cage. But most of all today I really feel sick to my rotten core. My head feels like an anvil that a blacksmith is hammering on; my hands and feet is numb and cold; my lips are cracked and my eyes are blood shot red. In the mist of all these, I know I should feel down but somehow I feel glad because somewhere in all of these, it could be a blessing in disguised; my spirits are lifted because there could be a chance of me suffering a heart or an organ failure that could spell my death; if only one of my major artery or veins just clog up and burst, it will give me a fucking stoke that would send me on a one way trip to Hades, then I would be the happiest man dead. My body felt like fucking crap, thanks mostly to my new found ritual of meditating at the beach; rain or shine, I will be there rotting away from dusk to dawn. And it finally happened; the cold rain that had drenched my clothes crawl through my skin and into my bones leaving me sick as sick can be. I am surprised that I have only gotten down with the sickness after a week of this fucking abuse. But it could also be my vigorous drinking habit that has contributed to it. But my death wish was not about to come true today because as time passed, I feel my strength regaining and once again my mood hit rock bottom. As I lay there on my bed, I look for my alarm clock to my right which I hardly use anymore, only to find the time was 4:44PM. They say that it is a form of luxury to sleep in late on Sundays but today I gave it a whole new fucking meaning.
I pull my pants up, scrape myself up off the couch and left a note to E to made plans for dinner the next day. I headed back to my studio still covered in puke and the stench of alcohol. I guess there goes my chance of humping the Gorgon sisters. I wonder if I would ever get another chance of having their ankles on my shoulders while I get down on my knees. You know what I still find what happened fucking hilarious every time I recall the look on their funny faces. I am going to let E know about this during dinner, he is so going to flip. 


