"I Don't know if you've heard but I've done over a thousand...'

Dear All,

I've decided to start a blog to chronicle random thoughts/occurrences I come across throughout my current life as an unemployed wanna-be writer/reluctant engineer. I can't say that I've researched too much into this medium although a friend of mine insisted that I should refrain from writing about pets or hobbies (I say insist, it was more of an ultimatum; one where he would be obliged to thump me).

But as it is I have neither a hobby nor a cat whose purr is worse than its saunter so I’m good for now. I wouldn’t describe myself as an angry person but every now and again I’ll come across something that would instantly make me question the presence or reasoning behind it. Having spent the better part of my teenage years as a coy ‘yes-man’ I seem to have a build-up of angst and a bitter outlook on life. Don’t get me wrong I don’t hate my life nor do I think I am unlucky in any way but more and more, as I enter my mid-twenties, I find myself becoming acutely aware of insolence around me.

For instance, a year ago I met a guy at University who when asked ,by a friend of mine, what he did back home informed us that he couldn’t tell us because he worked for the Singapore Secret Service and thus top-secret.

Just the 2 things about that...

a) Those at the Singapore Secret Service may have an inkling that such a statement could potentially blow your cover &
b) At the very least one would expect a cover story

Everyone’s prone to a white lie or two but talk of being some sort of International Man of Mystery; what is this primary school?

At the very least he could’ve combined the two and given a cover story with uncomfortable pauses and sufficient plot-holes to give off a sense of ambiguity and bullshit. But our I.M.o.M just wasn’t having it; it’s the equivalent of shouting a cumulative tally of the number of reps you have done while on a gym machine and then starting at yourself in the mirror afterwards – no one believes you, no one could really give a shit and you look like a tool (NOTE; try to avoid going into the changing room when said man is about – struts about nude as if he’s doing us a service and uses his towel like floss).

On a lighter note, a man knocked on my door today (Friday) at 1:30pm to preach the word of God. His opening pitch was,

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to disturb you, I’m sure you are very busy
given that you are at home during the day but I was just wondering if I
could give you this leaflet about the Afterlife and what prospects it could
have for you.”

Sarcasm is never the best way to sell Timeshares on the banks of the River Styx to an unemployed Hindu.