The Republic of Awesome

No, it’s not an online browser game involving Banglas. But it does involve plenty of testicles, literally.

I was seated and well stoned at an isolated bus stop in Potong Pasir when all of a sudden some woman approaches me. She has a thick foreign accent and appears to be from a nearby ASEAN country.

Woman: Ehh help! Got man he open his pants at me. And then he follow me…

Standing at the corridor of a nearby shop was a Bangla man. I gave him the compulsory ‘what la, dei??’ gesture.

Datuk Seri Nazri Aziz demonstrating how assholes like myself do it.

His response was to jiggle his somewhat covered balls at me like they were some magical anti-protagonist talismans. Wattafak.

Okay, an aside for you ladies. Us guys, although we’re the same species as you… we tend to lean a little closer to our gorilla cousins.

Thus the primitive ball jiggling display of aggression had to be countered by another primitive display of gorilla aggression. It’s all National Geographic, baby.

I stood up with my most cholo-like lean while giving the Bangla a mean stare. In more colloquial terms, it’s called ’stare cock’.

You anthropology majors probably know this as the ‘aggressive stare down’.

It says only one thing: ‘Imma fuck you up so bad your kids gonna come out looking like me.’

The Bangla flasher, recognizing that my cajones were larger than his, backed off.

Fight averted. Relief swept over me. Beating a Bangla worker to a state not unlike Ramly burger patties in the middle of Potong Pasir is not my idea of fun.

Ramly burger is fucking delicious by the way.

Anddd back to the story. The woman thus returns to her establishment. Moments later, a  man (her husband as I found out) came walking from her shop.

Man: Where that bastard go?

I point, he goes. She follows and tries to weigh him down like a useless anchor. It’s the stuff of cliched Channel 5 dramas.

Ultimately, she fails and he goes trudging off into the alleys. She thus rants to me about her situation. I find out she’s from Myanmar. She doesn’t want to involve the police. I warn her that her hubby beating the intestines out of the flasher is only going to complicate things.

Myanmar, for you dolts who failed geography.

Speak of the devil he returns wielding a large stick. He may or may not have made flasher-flavoured Ramly burger patties with aforementioned stick.

He thanks me for helping his wife out. By the tone of his voice, no burger meat was produced.

Darn. I love violence.

An extra day to bum around in Singapura seemed like a good idea, considering all the bullshit I tend  to pull off when left to my own devices. Thus I decided to swap my Monday bus ticket for a Tuesday departure. I rang up First Coach and the conversation went as follows:

Roger: “Eyh. I’d like to change the departure date for my bus ticket.”

Dude: “Oh ok. Which day would you like to change it to?”

Roger: “Tuesday, the 23rd.”

Dude: “Alright lemme check…”

Dude: “Nope, sorry - all busses are fully booked.”

Roger: “So… all busses on the 23rd are fully booked?”

Dude: “Yeah.”

Roger: “Ok, nevermind.”

Blah, nothing out of the ordinary - or so it seemed. It’s 2 days before Christmas - likely a lot of folks are hopping over to Monkehland for some shopping or family time.

Then it hit me.

Firstly, Tuesday was a working day and not many folken are as free as moi to travel on a whim.

Secondly, didn’t that dude take a rather fucking short time to check ALL the vacancies available on Tuesday? Even Superman jacked on 3kg of caffeine could not possibly have scanned through the records that fast. This dude would have been the motherfucking Ussain Bolt of the retarded-record-checking-Olympics.

Thirdly, he sounded like a slacker. I know because I’m the slacker king. Entire slacker nations bow down to my awesome slacking skills. I am like the Jesus Christ of slackers. I walk on water with my slack.

I called First Coach again some time later. This time, I tried booking a ticket instead. A cheena sounding girl picked up:

Roger: “Eyh. I wanna book a ticket for Tuesday, the 23rd.”

Cheena: “December ah?”

Roger: “Yeah.”

Cheena: “Onlee morning and afternoon haf.”

Roger: (Son of a bitch slacker motherfucker!!) “I’ll take the morning one.”

Cheena: “Ok.”

Roger: “Actually I’ve already booked a ticket. Can I change my current one to the date I’ve just booked?”

Cheena: “Ehh, kien u speak Chinese??”

Roger: =______=

Yes I can. I can call you a KNNBCCB and describe in detail your mother’s genitalia. However I was in a polite mood.

Long story short, I was transferred over to an England capable staff and managed to change my ticket.

The moral of the story kiddies, is that there are asshats out there who’ll try to fuck with you. Don’t let them. Make like Burger King and Have It Your Way!