me - today. MR H was just passing my room jst now - again; for like, 4 times, dis mornin? c'mon la sir.. as if i dunno yr game. ur sucha good reporter alive, around i know. we know. everybody knws hell yeah.. ur catwalkin down the hall; doin the Naomi Campbell thang, and do nothg. nothg, at all. but then - the big boss r updated all the time. all the fcukin time. not even missin out a single petty thang. kinda funny, aye? yeah - its funny ur sayin boys r not doin their works while u knew everybdy r tumblin fcukin upside down doin thgs and u r just like - pretend to be bz. i am sorry - i am goin to repeat dat again - pretendin to be a real damn fcukin bz, alrite. dammit - how i wish i cld be u. life wld be much more merrier, i bet. God sake.
eh - join Bernama lah. wld be good for u. or perhaps - TV3. u can replace the Karam Singh Walia much better. trust me. and dun go for RTM and such la, then nbdy wld never know u then, sir. after all - RTM? eh - who watch RTM anymore, eh? silly.
Mr H - i am in my room alrite. i am markin the papers alrite. u cld see me like cryin, tryin to catch up the freakin date and submit the marks rite on the fcukin time. u can see dat, aye? so stop catwalkin by, and havin yr so-called head n noce held up high, in the fcukin sky. its not like i am punchin my card in and off i go for a drink and balik rumah.. at 5pm, punch out. or wait - like dis. punch in, catwalkin up and down, then went off fetchin yr kids from school and off wit the wind, like dat - perhaps?. oppss.. is dat kinda harsh? really? bugger off!