PROFILE

The Journal Of A Grade A Fuck Up.

Sorry people for the late update.
Had to stay in camp the last couple of days.
And boy do I hate staying in camp.

Some people asked why don't I treat my blog
like most people do.
Writing about what goes on in my daily life.

Please.

You people would rather be better off
watching old men eating peanuts than read
what goes on in my daily life.

But just to show you how boring it is in my daily life
that I don't write much about it I'll show you a little
insight on my daily life in which I swear I meet the most
irritating damned people almost every damn day.

I was chilling in my office appearing busy as usual
on the computer when a some moron had to come
irritate me with the stupidest questions.

Some indian dude around his 40's
came into my office looking for my supervisor and
when I said he wasn't around he then asked if he could
wait for him in my office so being the very nice man
I am I said sure sit down.

So I carried on appearing busy till the dude,then
maybe sick of just sitting quietly decided to start
a conversation with me.
You know how old people are.
If they are not worrying about their balding head,
they must talk to somebody.

and it went a little something like this.

Indian Dude: Eh your name pereira ah?

Me: Yeah. *continues appearing busy*

Indian Dude: So you are what? Christian?

I so badly wanted to say I pray to wigs and hair products
but decided against it.

Me: Roman Catholic. *continues appearing busy*

Indian Dude: So what Church do you go to?

Me: I don't go to Church.

Indian Dude: Why not?

Me: Tsk.Because I do not pray.

Indian Dude: Why? How come you don't pray?

Me:Because I do not believe.

And at that point of time the dude got up.
And I thought he was going to whip out a bible
out of his pocket and beat some religion into me.

But no.
He took out a photo.
A young photo of him.

And told me how back then he too did not believe.
And he mentioned some log.
Or was it some tree . I can't remember.
Anyways he went on and on about how we
Roman Catholics should always pray and praise
God.

So I told him.

Me : Why pray when I'm sinning more than praying?

Him: Because when you pray you sins gets lesser.

Me:Then that makes me a hypocrite.I'm praying
just to lessen my sins.I'm a free thinker.

Him:No you must pray.You must learn to believe.
You were born a Roman Catholic.Learn the ways.

Me:My priest gave up on me a long time ago.
Trust me.I'm happier this way.Me and God.
We have an understanding.

Him:You see who knows maybe today God had
sent me to come to talk to you and make you realise.

Me:*mumbles*more like irritate.

The dude then went on and gave me his name card and then
told me to frequent church more often.
Even better if I would frequent his church.

Tsk.

I don't believe in making others believe.
A person should believe out of his own free will.
Because he wants to believe.
Not because some old balding indian guy walked into
his office and told him to.

Everyone has their respective beliefs.
And everyone should respect every other
religion.
I believe there's a God.
Just that I don't believe there's an image of him.
That's my belief.
And everyone is entitled to their own.

Most of us pray.
Some choose not to pray turning free thinkers
and shit like me.
Some just simply hate the religion even if it
was never theirs to start with.

Let's have a look as some fucks who wear
flour on their faces , use eyeliner on their eyes
and lips because black lipstick is hard to find in Singapore
and then wear inverted crosses on their chest and
claim to be anti-christ and then on somedays
you see them happily having a nice plate of nasi lemak
at some foodcourt near their place.

Oh yes people.
Even demonic spawns of the devil love their nasi lemak.

Fancy going all ;

"HAIL SATAN! HIS EVIL DARKNESS!"

Around 20 mins later.
One of them will say to the other.

"Eh lapar ah.Nasi Lemak Per?"
[Eh hungry ah.Nasi Lemak How On?]

While I'm getting a V.I.P plane ride to hell
when I die.
You fucks can ride nasi lemak banana leaves
to hell.

This kind of fucks.



The photos they took were at fort canning.
Abandoned graves of course.
You didn't think they'd actually dare to go to
real cemeteries and step all over real graves did you.

Then these dudes love to do some grabbing motion
with their hands.
Like as if they're reaching out to pluck an apple.
Or out to grab someone's testicles.



*jason runs off to his mommy*

Mommy where's my crucifix and Bible? The scary secondary school
kids of Satan wants to come and pluck my balls.

And they always must stick their tongues out.
In almost every photograph.



That's one fucking long tongue.
With a tongue that long no wonder you wanna show
it off.
You're just waiting for the day the Singapore Zoo
offers you a job to orally pleasure their female giraffes.

Sigh.
Why God.
Why don't you just lightning bolt their asses or something.

lol.

And some of my friends have been telling me how
I can be sued for pictures I've posted.

Oh hell yeah.
Of course I can be sued.
Anyone is liable to come and sue me.

But one reality check.
You think our Singaporean lawyers get paid with
packets of rice and potatos.

You think you can just walk into a lawyer's office.
Give him a 5kg packet of rice and tell him ;

"Sue this Jason Pereira . He called me a horny hippo."

Do you know how much it costs to hire a lawyer?
And you are thinking of sueing me for calling you a
horny hippo.

How about the damages done to me.
For the damage my eyes and the people who
came to read had to endure.
My fucking penis fell off my body.
Some people lost their appetites to eat.
Some almost went into a coma.

But for real.
You want to sue me.
Go ahead.
The last couple of bloggers that got sued
went all over the news for their motherfucking
stupid racist entries.

Then the whole of Singapore can hate me
because I made fun of a few horny fat people.
And then the whole of Singapore can also know
you're being referred to as a horny hippo.

Sueing.
Tsk.

And speaking of that.
I can't believe some shit I had seen pretty recently.
And I'm only censoring the shit.
Because hell even it was too much for me to take.



And you fucks thought I was screwing around with you.
Now believe me that such shit is happening?
Fucking flashing of nipples and even the vagina.

THE MOTHERFUCKING VAGINA!

And it was on Friendster.

How come MySpace
Doesn't have this shit going on.
I gotta switch to MySpace soon.

Oh if you are pleased this is going on.
You fucking let me know.
I'll hunt you down and kill you myself
because that shit is just too fucking wrong.

Oh god.
And see.
I was nice enough to hide her identity.
I'm not so mean to the point I'm letting people
recognise her on the streets and go.

"HELL YOU FLASHED YOUR VAGINA
ON FRIENDSTER!"

Besides the amount of you sueing me to pay your hospitalisation
charges after you recover from your comas would be
enough to bankrupt my ass.
ass.

lol.

But enough fat horny chick crap.
I'm sick of that shit.
After what I've seen fuck it.
Ergh.
I saw a fatgina
How nice.
How motherfucking nice.

I haven't even gotten started on mats
and minahs , fuckers with floating caps.
And how many of you actually have heard
of that rumour of how you can actually make yourself
a fake vagina with a piece of bread wrapper just like
they claim happens in the prisons?

And majority of you still want to read on
fat horny girls.

lol.

and some of you can actually give me links to
minahs like this.



lol.
And I thought I dated a couple of scary minahs.

What do you people want me to do with her?
Put her in the center of a room ,
Smack her eyelids and watch the colourful powder fly
around the room and dance to techno while all
that happens?

lol.

Fuck man.
Looking at her eyes.
I've suddenly developed an urge for some paddle
pop ice cream.


PaddlePop anyone?


My treat.


Oh yeah one last thing.
Help me out okay guys.

Tell me if this is or isn't this the most
motherfucking fattest hamster you
have ever seen?



The owner said she wasn't squeezing it.
Oh yes.
How could anyone resist squeezing that little fat fuck.



*mumblesfatassratmumbles*


Till then ;

Mucho Love ,

The Critic.

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