Cubicle

Here is where I struggle to earn my daily bread, manfully shrugging off the agony inflicted by the slavemaster’s cruel whip on my badly scarred torso and back.
If you peer closely, you may be able to spot the shackles under the desk.

Tanks

Two goldfish were in their tank. One turns to the other and says, ‘You man the guns, I’ll drive.’

Inflation

Riding my bicycle to work is indeed hard work. Tribulations abound ranging from the brilliant Malaysian drivers to the thick dust to the hot cruel sun’s relentless pounding.
Thank you Pak Lah for increasing the price of fuel. You have made my life so much better. I hope you are nice, cool and comfortable in your air-conditioned, chauffer-driven automobile.
Thank you [...]

Pride

Sometimesh I feelsh so damn proudsh of my countrysh. Hic!
A fushkingsh spacesh tourish went to spacesh on our hard earned taxsh money. Did shome stupid ass shit up there, that ish of no value to Malaysiansh. Hic!
Fuckingsh wrote a self-indulgent booksh on hish so called historic journey. Hic! What was so groundbreakingsh about what he didsh? Five [...]

Millipedes

Recently, I discovered termites at home. Sigh… We called the ‘terminator’ and scheduled an inspection.
The joker showed up, and without consulting us, started spraying shit all over the house. My home now smells like the inside of a local government hospital.
On a happy side note though, the chemicals appear to be stopping the millipedes that [...]