Can’t Write.

Sorry. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a writer afterall.

I’m on my way to become a Bikram’s instructor. Who’s willing to loan me RM20, 000?

Yeah. Didn’t think so.

I can’t come up with punny puns, I can’t write, I can’t do jackshit when I’ve got 4-5 press ads smirkin at me with a big-headed boss who’s trying not to wring my neck in 3 different places – which is quite easy since my neck’s quite fat, he said – as I can’t deliver the damn ads on time.

Fuck this. If anything, I’ll be good at yoga and am proud to say that I can complete 90 minutes in a room heated to 32 degrees Celcius.



Posted on September 8, 2008, in Malaysiana, Work, Yuck. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Wei you can. Maybe you’re better writing in your style leh, like how you did on your blog. 🙂

  2. pat pat pat.. aw babes.. don’t be so down on yourself.. maybe m’sians just don’t get ur humour?

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