an article lech, my new colleague, forwarded to me. amusing.

Here’s a prime example of “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus” offered by an English professor:

The professor told his class one day: “Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me.

“The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.”

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students, Rebecca and Gary.

THE STORY:

(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. “A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,” he said into his transgalactic communicator. “Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far…” But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. “Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,” Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she pondered wistfully.

(Gary)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary)
Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. “Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F_KING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I’m such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!”

(Rebecca)
Asshole.

(Gary)
Bitch

(Rebecca)
F__K YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!

(Gary)
Go drink some tea - whore.

(TEACHER)
A+ - I really liked this one.

another long hiatus, which i shall blame on the need to prepare for an interview. and also cognitive inertness in general.

had an absurdly hilarious conversation over lunch today. i had two new colleagues join the office recently, both about my age (mid-20s); one guy, one girl. given the mechanics of one desiring to impress the other, conversation strayed to pick-up lines. i had recently shared with the male colleague a pick-up line i had thought up over lunch a few days ago. one that i'm particularly proud of - not because of its brilliance, but more of its inception in less than conducive company. but that's an insult for another day. so, my pickup line goes something like this.

staggeringly hot girl, coming up to me to introduce herself (one of the more common problems i face when i venture out of the house. but i shall be stoic and not complain further.) : "hi, i'm xxxxx."

where xxxxx is her name, and not some not-so-subtle attempt at an indecent proposition, unsuitable for publication because i know my baby cousins read this blog.

my response (assuming i'm interested. and that my wife isn't around.) : "hi, i'm smitten."

sweet and simple. in return, my colleague shared with me his favourite line. let's call this colleague lech.

lech, walking up to girl (who may or may not be hot considering he has self-confessed low standards) : "fat penguin."

girl : "???"

lech : "fat penguin."

girl : "what?"

lech : "i just wanted to say something to break the ice."

not the most sophisticated line conceivable. but, as we discussed, probably good enough to get a decent success rate - if only by invoking the maternal instinct in females that pity your stupidity. sympathy vote, of sorts.

anyhow, after sharing these lines with our new female colleague, lech decided to pull yet another one out from his bag of tricks. actually, this was the only one remaining in his repertoire. but i suppose that's incidental.

lech : "what winks and f*cks like a tiger?" *wink*

girl : "what?"

lech : "what winks and f*cks like a tiger?" *huge, exaggerated wink*

long pause

girl : "i don't get it."

lech (dumbfounded) : "which part, exactly, don't you get?"

girl : "what tiger?"

momentary stunned silence

lech : "what winks and f*cks like a tiger?" *wink wink wink*

girl : "i still don't get it."

lech (utterly exasperated, and yelling. loudly. and gesticulating at his chest with both thumbs) : "me! i f*ck like a tiger!"

a proclamation which, if you can imagine, drew some attention from the table full of colonels next to us.

strangely enough, it seems as if the girl finds him utterly charming. who knows, she might even be falling in love. females are an odd lot.

a scan of an english essay (not mine). click on image to enlarge.

time only for a quick entry, but hopefully its oddity is not precluded by its brevity. facts are, as usual, wholly true and undiluted. given that i've just undergone a 5 hour long psycchological interview today, i've stayed in character and taken the liberty of psycho-analysing the various titillating aspects of the story, drawing conclusions as to the character and personality of the participants as and when appropriate.

story goes like this. chinese man irrationally decides that he wishes to see a panda. to that end, chinese man (a certain mr zhang xinyan) decides to go to the zoo. only problem is, the zoo is in beijing, and mr zhang does not live in beijing. manfully, mr zhang embarks on a 7 hour train ride to beijing, to visit the said beijing zoo. from this, we can conclude that mr zhang is mad.

mr zhang finds the train ride exhausting. upon reaching his destination, mr zhang decides to alleviate this exhaustion by drinking beer - four bottles, to be precise. mr zhang finds drinking beer exhausting also, and falls asleep. mr zhang awakes from his sleep, and proceeds to the panda enclosure. from this, we can see that mr zhang is a weak and weedy individual, and that seeks to flee from pressures of our material plane by taking solace in alcohol and slumber. such an attitude of escapism is not to be lauded.

once at this panda enclosure, mr zhang feels an overwhelming "sudden urge" to touch a panda with his hand (as opposed to his feet, presumably. thank the bbc for this bit of information that might have escaped a lesser news agency). mr zhang obviously suffers from some deviant fetish for large, furry, individuals. he is also internally conflicted, unable to decide whether he prefers blacks or whites. not being possessed of a firm set of priorities, mr zhang compromises and seeks physical release from individuals that are both black and white. a pathetic man.

mr zhang accordingly jumps into the panda enclosure. inside the panda enclosure, he reaches out to embrace the resident panda, a six-year-old male named gu gu. it would not be unreasonable for us to point to mr zhang's behaviour and draw the conclusion that he is, in addition to being sexually attracted to pandas, gay.

taken aback by mr zhang's sudden amorous advancements, gu gu reacts in the only way that a healthy, heterosexual male can possibly react when confronted by a drunken and ostensibly insane chinaman intent on hugging you - gu gu snarls viciously and bites the intruder first on one leg, and then the other. bold, brave, gu gu.

excited, mr zhang attempts to return the favour, but is unable to do so effectively. later, from his hospital bed with blood-soaked bandages over both legs, mr zhang whines, "i bit the panda on its back but its fur was too thick." the symbolism here is crystalline - mr zhang is impotent.


gu gu (pictured above) emerged unscathed from this incident. mr zhang lives to touch a panda another day, and has rightfully won worldwide fame as the crazy chinaman who tried to bite a panda. long live mr zhang.

full article and link to bbc in comments.

i had a thought-provoking conversation with someone over lunch. actually, it was over tea - which in turn is not a strictly accurate description of the meal, for it involved kaya toast, fruit juice, mineral water, and not a drop of tea in sight.

but so, i was having a snack with a female friend and this individual. upon our female friend polishing off the last pieces of her kaya toast, this individual launched into his theory involving girls who finished their food.

it transpires that this individual despises girls who finish their food. such an act, according to him, smacks of a desire for instant gratification - a trait which, to him, is utterly becoming of a member of the fairer sex. i must add that while several aspects of his diatribe did possess some (and this is strictly a quantitative comparison) degree of merit, i am not entirely in agreement with him on this point. i can, personally, think of potential advantages in hanging out with a hot girl who is unable to control her desire for instant gratification.

to be scrupulously fair, however, this is probably an appropriate juncture at which to note that his theory was subject to a caveat - that none of his reasoning whatsoever applies to hot girls. for hot girls are hot, and whatever they do, they are still hot (and therefore desirable). examples of such inconsequential acts that do not vitiate their desirablility include, i quote, farting and shitting at the dining table. this again, is a point on which we must depart.

anyhow, to get back to the averagely-plain jane who wastes not. such a healthy appetite is indicative of numerous other failings. not only does she desire instant gratification, the collorary to that is that she is necessarily low class. by not showing restraint and resisting her hunger pangs, she embodies classless-ness. the example he gave went as follows : if he says something bad about someone, and i maintain my silence and don't say something else bad about that someone, i have shown restraint, while he has not. per curiam, i have shown that i am high class, while he is low class. my response to this was that i agreed with the outcome, while not necessarily the logical acuity of his reasoning.

anyhow. greedy girl is guilty of desiring instant gratification, and is not classy. also, she is likely to be fat. perhaps her biggest failing, however, is that her willingness to finish all her food even though she is already a non-hot female demonstrates that she lacks insecurity. and that, this individual emphatically proclaimed, is truly reprehensible. what use, after all, is a girl if she is not insecure, vulnerable, and wholly dependent on him to function?

subsequently, this individual informed our third companion that, naturally, none of this applied to her, as she fell into the hot girl category. he then offered her a lift home, an offer which she happily accepted. a happy ending, then.

which brings me to the reason i recounted this entire incident. for just this evening i stumbled across a page on the world wide web which i think provides the answer to that provcative and philosophical question of what one is to do with a girl that has the temerity to finish her food.


pick one of the two options, then. till next time.

i've heard this one before, but it's still pretty amusing. click on image to enlarge, if necessary.

it's been a while since i last blogged. in fact, it's been a while since i've even checked my blog. i was pleasantly gratified to see that there were several comments urging me to blog, and no spam-comments telling me that i had an inadequately sized penis.

because i don't.

really.

anyhow, while i acknowledge i have been remiss, it will take me a while to get back into the blogging groove. so, while we all anxiously await my next entry, do enjoy some photos which evidence the salutiferous working conditions in my office.

the photos depict a toothbrush i used to brush my teeth with after lunch. a high level of personal hygiene and minty fresh breath being two of my many remarkable assets. after a week of not using my toothbrush, i took it out to find this :





a cockroach, its many legs scrambling frenetically in an attempt to get out of the toothbrush cover. unfortunately, it couldn't quite fit through the hole in question. what i surmise must have happened is that it crawled in as a baby, found enough to feed on in the toothbrush such that it grew fat and prosperous, and then found it couldn't get back out through the door of its new home when it came time to leave.

more annoyingly, i find little cockroaches like this lying dead on my table every bloody week. if the buggers are going to infest the office and then die, the least they could do is scuttle off and expire in some inconspicuous corner. coupled with the rumours that hordes of rats reside in the ventilation system and ceiling ducts (real vermin, not just scourings that constitute my client base), its no wonder half my office is on mc at any given time.

i received a poorly drafted request for advice the other day via email. it went :

'Yesterday, we had fwd thru the Appln for Sect 14 for the above to Legal Svcs. Wd appreciate if this case be cleared asap and also wd appreciate if you cd caution Sec to *** once it has been supported by Legal and floated out to ***.'

i attempted to talk the talk. my email response :

'Yr email ws incmprhsible, nd im not sre wt u mean by 'if you cd caution Sec to ***'.

Regardless, I had already cleared the application yesterday afternoon, prior to your email.

Regards.'

sadly, my boss refused to approve my reply. when i confronted him over his inexplicable decision, he rationlised his decision by asserting that my client used 'recognisable short-forms.' presumably, i, on the other hand, was guilty of unrecognisable shortcuts. the problem with working in the civil service is that no one has a sense of humour.

i subjected my body to much abuse this weekend.

i had chicken rice; followed by katong laksa with a fried egg, french fries, and fried sausage; followed by a sinful italian dinner to celebrate my mum-in-law's birthday; followed by a sinful 6 course chinese-fusion family lunch, which included such delights as large slabs of fried foie gras, wasabi tempura prawns, fried carrot cake, etc; followed by a hawker fest dinner of 2 roti prata with egg and cheese, 1 roti prata kosong, 1/2 a packet of carrot cake, 1 packet of chicken chop noodles and french fries.

in between i also played basketball while running a fever, fighting a cold, and with two broken toes. i also sustained a sprained finger and did something to my back while attempting to intercept a pass by sticking out my foot. this shall be a week of detoxification and austerity.

on the radio this morning, two dj's carried out a prank which involved waking someone up in the morning, in a fashion that might render alarm clocks out of vogue.

dj : "hello, is this simon?" (i can't remember what his name was, for the life of me. but it was some nondescript job, like 'simon'. no offence to the simons out there.)

simon (sleepily) : "yes."

dj : "i'm calling from the exam office. you missed your paper this morning."

simon (wide awake. and very, very excited.) : "har? what paper?"

dj : "you took a maths paper last friday? there was a problem with the paper. everyone had to redo a paper this morning. you mean no one told you?"

simon : "no! got paper?"

dj : "this is a very important paper. the school needs everyone to take all their exams. you didn't take your exam. maybe i can ask you the questions over the phone?"

simon : "har! over the phone?"

dj : "yes. question one, is your answer a, b, c or d."

simon : "har! then question neh?"

dj : "i can't tell you the question what - what if you go and check the internet for the answer? you just anyhow guess."

simon : "har! er... d!"

dj : "question 2. is you answer a, b, c or d."

simon : "har! really no question ah!"

dj : "yes"

simon : "har! d!"

dj : "question 3. 1, 2, 3 or 4."

simon : "har! no more a, b, c ah?!"

dj : "different type of question."

simon : "har! er.. 4!"

dj : "ok based on the questions so far, your answers are all wrong."

simon : "har!! all wrong!?!"

the funny part is that the guy actually sounded really surprised that he didn't get them right. he didn't sound half as shocked when the djs informed him it was a stunt that his girlfriend put them up to. kind of reminds me of how i used to do my chinese mcq questions. and maths. and science. etc.

i was just informed that the comments function on this blog hasn't been working for some time now. might be because i fiddled with some settings a while back, trying to stop people from advertising viagra and other penis enlarging products through the comments section.

apparently i not only put paid to all-natural, money-back, satisfaction-guaranteed penis paraphernalia, but also to other comments which don't tell me that 'The more inche$ your penis has, the more times you are a man. Make it big with Penis Enlarge Patch. '

anyway, the good news is that comments are enabled again; the bad that we will likely suffer more adverts for penile peripherals.

resist. the. temptation.

my wife recounted a hilarious conversation to me while i was showering. the last detail perhaps falls into the 'too much information' category, but, for those who have been fortunate enough to gaze upon my visage, is a detail sufficiently evocative of splendour to warrant inclusion into my blog. and render upon my readers sleepless nights, for one reason or another.

anyway, this conversation went as follows -

wife's colleague #1 : "my dog is in heat."

wife's colleague #2 : "what's that mean?"

which, i suppose, is a pretty funny question in and of itself. but it gets better.

wife's colleague #1 : pause "it means that she will get excited by a male dog."

a reply which, though i suppose empirically accurate, might not be biologically perspicuous enough to, say, put her in the 99th percentile of her veterinary school cohort. had she chosen to be a vet, instead of a lawyer. though i do suppose this would depend on the school she went to. and, while on the topic of female vets, did i ever mention my observation that, for some strange reason, girl vets tend to be exceptionally cute? i'm not the only one with that theory. but anyhow.

wife's colleague #2 (brightly - refering to the tenor of his voice rather than his cognitive capacity) : "oh! are they married?"

i had a new colleague join my office several days ago, someone whom i had already known from school days.

the day prior to his arrival, i was in another colleagues room, about to open a pack of marks and spencers assorted chocolate biscuits, when my boss walked by. a conversation ensued.

boss : "do you know our new colleague is joining us tomorrow?"

myself (caught by surprise, holding my chocolate biscuits) : "er... yes sir."

awkward silence

myself (holding out packet of as yet unopened biscuits to boss) : "biscuit, sir?"

boss : "no thanks." long pause "so, is he as handsome as you?"

now, as i am sure readers of my blog are aware of by now, i am blessed with numerous and varied talents. amongst those talents numbers a devotion to honesty and integrity. and so -

myself : "no sir, not as handsome." pause "but perhaps his work is better, sir?"

for the record, the latter caveat is a notion so unlikely as to be almost preposterous. but, however, modesty, as well as the desire to give a sporting chance to an as yet unannounced colleague (yet other examples of my numerous and varied blessings) compelled me to prevaricate. though, since i phrased it as a mere possibility, i had not been drawn into a lie. have i previously mentioned the nimbleness of my wit, the keeness of my mind, my graciousness in a social setting, and my quickness of thinking?

now, my boss is an old acs boy, and suffers from the same - how should i phrase this, politely - partiality, of the mind, that afflicts most acs boys and causes them to, on occasion, make judgement calls that others may have opportunity to call into question.

boss (staring at me) : "well, i suppose he can't be handsome, seeing as he's not from acs."

now, the exigencies of talking to someone who is your direct superior dictate that one has to be deferential, even in the face of a statement that is wholly baffling.

me (gently) : "but i'm not from acs, sir."

boss (staring at me even harder) : "and what premise does that disprove?"

and with that parting salvo, he stalked off. saving me from the possibly taxing task of having to, diplomatically, scatter asunder whatever existing misconceptions he may have been under.

the monotony that makes up mornings in court was broken up yesterday, albeit unwittingly, by the (not quite qualified) defence 'counsel', who was, to his credit, clearly trying very hard.

his attempt at mitigation started off with an astoundingly selfless declaration of : "i plead guilty on (the accused's) behalf". it ended with an equally incomprehensible "without further adieu, your honour, thank you." unfortunately, whatever was sandwiched in between those two revelations was not a great deal more cogent.

even more unfortunately, the judge decided to spend 5 minutes elucidating on the differences between, and appropriate usages of, the words 'ado' and 'adieu'. and how an understanding of such a distinction would greatly aid this defence representative in his drafting of future mitigation pleas.

my wife also recounted this incident she witnessed in court.

judge : "i see that the accused has a ferrari, a maserati, and a porsche."

prosecutor : "yes."

judge : "and where are these cars now?"

prosecutor : "they've been repossesed by the bank."

judge : "oh."

pause

judge (curiously) : "and so, what's the accused driving now?"

on a separate note, national days are awesome. we should have more of them, at least 2 a month. and also, we should get a half day off the day before each national day.

an amusing incident occurred in court yesterday.

the courts i go to employ (and i use the term approximately, for the employment contract is not what one might term 'voluntary', and the employment benefits, not to mention salaries, are pegged somewhat below prevailing industry standards. the more cynical might even view it as forced servitude) little 18 year old boys as court clerks.

proceedings had just about ended for a particular accused yesterday. the judge was on the verge of pronouncing sentence. this particular court clerk, who, one might describe as a slightly excitable and eccentric individual, had been following proceedings very closely. he apparently realised that the judge had deviated from his usual procedure.

so just as the judge looked up to deliver the sentence upon the accused, the court clerk piped up in a loud and trilling voice, which riveted the whole court :

"i think you forgot something."

judge looked at clerk.

clerk : "you forgot to ask the accused if he has any special applications and objections to make." for the record, this question is usually asked before proceedings begin, and is a chance for the accused to make an application for say, an adjournment, so that his case would be heard another day. given that the accused had already pleaded guilty and had been convicted, this was obviously a rather moot point.

judge : "yes, it appears i have." pause "well then, we'd better do that shouldn't we."

clerk : "yes."

judge (to accused) : "accused, do you have any special applications to make?"

accused (utterly bewildered) : "no."

the judge turned and smiled avuncularly towards the clerk : "look, it seems as if the accused has no special applications to make."

clerk nods sagaciously

judge, turning back to the accused : "i hereby sentence you to three years and three months imprisonment, from today."

it took me all i had to keep from laughing out loud in open court. i don't think the accused's family would have appreciated it very much.

in the off-chance that anyone out there feels like acquiring a digital video camera - here's one up for grabs. panasonic nv-gs27, with a whopping 30x optical zoom. shoot from a distance. i played with a demo set at best denki, and it quite slim and well put together.

brand new, still sealed in its box; never opened. full warranty (i would presume 1 year) as of today. warranty card etc. still sealed with the camera, as you can see from the first picture.

retails at $599 + gst at best denki, or at least it did when i was there a couple of nights ago. $450 and it's yours, a nice 25% off. may be negotiable if you can show me that it sells for a drastically cheaper price elsewhere.

leave a comment, or contact me via whatever other means if you're interested.

and since i'm stuck, immotile, in front of my computer, here's more entertainment for the masses. penned by one of my colleagues and i, in turn, in verse. and in a language neither of us is particularly comfortable with. the product of bored minds, and a language, bastardised.

i write in purple; my unnamed colleague in pencil (so she could erase her mistakes after checking her characters by typing hanyu pinyin into her handphone). please note that my insults are, typically, of a far higher standard than what appears here. subtlety and wit are not easily conveyed via a vocabulary that extends to, approximately, 23 different characters. out of necessity, the breadth and depth of my flowery aspersions had to be curtailed.

click on the pictures for a larger version.


part 1


part 2

this has not been a good year for my right foot. first my sprained ankle. now, i have suffered 'undisplaced crack fractures of the middle phalanx of the 3rd toe and the base of the distal phalanx of the 4th toe'. as the doctor explained it to me, that means that i have two broken toes - my middle toe has two cracks, one on each side of the toe, while my fourth toe has gotten off comparatively lightly, with just one crack. then there are the little chips of bone which decided to detatch themselves from the said cracks, and carve out a niche of independent existence for themselves. the little wankers.


this would probably win the most indecipherable picture award. if some notional organisation were inclined to give out awards for indecipherable pictures. and if i was so inclined to enter the picture in that competition.

such a competition would, understandably, require comprehensive captions. mine would probably be : "that's my foot. the capital r on the top right hand corner of the x-ray indicates that it's my right foot. and the little yellow arrows were drawn (very helpfully) by the radiologist. presumably he knew how incompetent the doctor was. the doctor was staring blankly at the x-ray for a good minute before i took it upon myself to point the little yellow arrows out to him." i probably wouldn't win the captioning award. assuming, again, that this organisation gave out awards for the best captioned photos, indecipherable or no. but who knows, anything can happen.

anyhow, this is a highly annoying (and painful) development. especially since this means i can't play in my basketball tournament this weekend. the highlight of my year, broken into pieces. little chips, to be precise.

i am very, very disgruntled. at least i get 2 days mc. which gives me time to blog about my disgruntledness.

i haven't blogged in almost a month now. fatherhood will do that to you.

the interim period hasn't changed the fact that some days at work are more taxing than others. i am continually reminded of how fortunate i am to be able to put my five years of legal education to good use. i derive great professional satisfaction whenever i am able to apply my finely honed legal acumen to live problems which are raised by my clients - it affirms a truth that i had, admittedly, often doubted while in law school, i.e. that all the hours of rigorous studying would eventually pay off.

three separate incidents today, that make the job worth doing.

#1 : i received a telephone call from a client who wished me to render some legal advice. the conversation went like this. as close to verbatim that i can remember (though my brain has probably purged the worst parts in some kind of primal self-sustaining measure.)

client : "i have a question for legal advice."

me : "yes?"

client : "i want to give this guy a fine."

me : "yes."

client : "so i type into the computer system he must get a fine. when it print out that time is a detention."

silence

me : "so what's your question?"

client : "so i type into the computer system he must get a fine. when it print out that time is a detention."

me : "yes, and what's your question?"

client : "i just tell you. i type into the computer system a fine, it print out he must start detention today."

me : "but what's the question? what do you want (our legal department) to do?"

client : "i want to know if it's wrong or correct."

me : "you want to give him a fine?"

client : "yes."

me : "and the order printed out says he is going to detention?"

client : "yes."

me : "i think that means it's wrong."

client : "so correct ah? nothing wrong?"

me : "no, i think it's wrong, not correct."

client : "it's wrong ah?"

me : "yes."

client : "why is it wrong? i want to know is it my fault or the computer's fault?"

me : "it's obviously your fault you bloody idiot. i'm not sure whose fault it is. because i wasn't there to see what you typed in."

client slams down phone.

one gets used to the morons that inevitably call up with moronic questions. on the rare occasion, though, one gets to interact with someone who is not just stupid, but who is crushingly, blindingly, stupid. then there are also those that are incredibly annoying. and those who are insufferably rude. this guy had all three characteristics, in spades. someone should place him in a zoo.


#2 : later on in the day, i was asked to approve the following charge. the offender had committed the offence, the particulars of which were detailed as follows : "he, at (place), from (date and time) to (date and time) until he was brought back, an offence is reasonable expected to know."

i dare even the engineers out there to make sense of that. i can just imagine the conversations they have in detention.

offender alpha : "i'm in here for drug consumption. you?"

offender in question : "i'm in here for until i was brought back, an offence is reasonable expected to know."

#3 : then there was this other charge. the offender, in hospital, was guilty of :

"misbehaving in ward 46. [he] entered the female patients' ward & jumped around in the ward. he also often went to the nurses' counter to play with the diet trolley"

mitigating factors : remorseful.

this one i did, eventually, approve. after all, the accused didn't just go to the nurses' counter to play with a trolley. he often did so - and repeat offenders are particularly undeserving of leniency.

maybe i should go off and do a phd.