It’s the 3rd week and I’ve begun on company no.3. 4 bloody boxes of crap waiting to be opened and flipped till my arm wears out into a stump.
And I’m so bored. I often sleep with my eyes open and flipping the thick pile of crap in auto mode. Dead fish…I’m sure that’s what my eyes looked like. My social index is still low and joke meter is nil, bordering negative. Am I a snob/ antisocial/shy? It’s like I’m not at all interested in what some of them are really excited about. Like football, durians and eegh, accounting. I’m sooo bloody fake when I laugh along with them at a bland remark so I just concentrate on chewing my lunch away. I feel like Batman. In the day I see numbers and walk around in a suit like a robot. At night I immerse myself with what I enjoy most: Anime, Bitching and Crap.
I said it once and will say it again: I WANT TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL!!! I miss all of you guys and the crapping!
These few days, I’m totally enamoured by Kazuo Ishiguro’s ‘Remains of the Day’. It is a novel everyone should read because it talks of how one perceives his career, life and ,a rare word these days, honour. Stevens, an English butler, narrates his life and that of those around him who made an impact on his professional career and solitary life.
One particular thing which made a deep impression in me is when Stevens talks of how he prepares alot of witty responses to meet any joking remarks that comes his way. Twice, he was puzzled that everybody did not respond readily to his well-formulated witticism. An example was when the rural guests joked about the landlord’s wife making a din at the crack of dawn. His well-formulated witticism which he trained so hard for occasions such as this was
”A local variation of the cock crow no doubt.”
And silence… Until one of the folk laughed after seeing Stevens’ amused face.
The funniest thing about this was Stevens was rather pleased with his witticism and thought that the joke did not get across because he did not speak clearly enough.
Yes, I know how he feels. I don’t want to crap with my colleagues because I don’t think they’ll get it. One incident proves this, amongst other bland jokes. One of the SMU interns was telling the other a joke.
Intern 1: What do you get if you cross a centipede and a parrot?
Intern2: Uuuh… a freak?
Intern1 : A walkie-talkie.
Intern2: … … Huh?
Intern1: You see, a centipede is thought to walk a lot because it’s got many legs while a parrot talks a lot so walkie talkie!
Intern2: … … … … Ha! … .. Lame…
Me: *Oh fuck.God help me.*
And intern2’s jokes are not funny even though they are dirty. Dirty in a sanitary sense, not the R(A) sort which I enjoy. His jokes deal with acne juice and bull testicle meatballs.
It made my funny bone suffer from osteoroposis.