Rolling My Eyes


Doing another Thursday post before moving to doing Monday posts from next week onwards. Anyway, don’t think anyone cares a fuck.

My tolerance for BS has reached an epic low.

I find myself rolling my eyes at what I hear around me.

Some examples:

A: If you miss me, come visit me. I know I will miss you. If you can’t visit, I will. In fact, I will visit you every month. I promise!
Me (three months later): I’m thinking of flying over to see you next Friday.
A: No, no, no, let me fly to you instead. It’s much easier for me to come to you since you have a bad back. I’ll fly to you soon!

I rolled my eyes because it’s been a year, A never showed up; yes, it’s been a year of blatant lies and barefaced lies and brazen deception and yet more lies, leading me to the conclusion that inhabitants from that country can never ever be trusted to be honest and truthful. They are all pathological liars, every single one of them.

B: My aunt is a great cook. Sadly, she doesn’t cook much these days as she’s getting on in age and is quite frail.
C: Your aunt should compile a book of her recipes! She should! She better!

I rolled my eyes at intermeddling alphas dishing out unsolicited advice in a condescending tone.

D: I was married once; I lost my wife to a cult based in Karachi. She walked out on me and our three kids and moved there to live in some ashram headed by her swami.
E: There are many reasons why people leave happy marriages and good husbands, and their children to pursue some sort of fulfilment because they are basically empty and hollow inside and so they become seekers of things or experiences to satisfy their inner needs. You need to stay calm. It is what it is. Won’t be first time this happened to someone.

I rolled my eyes at retards who think they are qualified psychologists and experts in human behavior.

F: I really enjoyed working with you, it’s been many years since we were colleagues. When you come to my part of the world, we must catch up for coffee at least, at least coffee! I’ll buy! Yes, we must meet up!
Me: I’ll be in your neck of the woods a month from now, any chance of meeting up one morning for coffee, as you suggested before? I’ll be billeted at the Mandarin Oriental, next to KLCC.
F: Morning traffic is horrendous. Not a good idea lah.

I rolled my eyes at the insincerity.

G: When you come, please help buy me some chocolates, those we have are made locally, whereas those being sold in Singapore are made in the UK. I only like the UK ones. Please get me some, in fact, fill up a whole suitcase with them, will pay you.
Me (just landed at G’s country): I have just arrived. Would you be able to meet tomorrow to pick up your chocolates? I have a whole suitcase of chocolates for you.
G: Sure, I’ll pick you up. But not at your hotel, it’s too troublesome for me, too troublesome lah. Just get out of your hotel, cross the road and you will see a Starbucks. Meet me outside that Starbucks tomorrow at 10am. I’ll be there. Don’t be late! I have a full day tomorrow so you must not be late!
Me (the next day, after realizing that “just cross the road” required me, with a heavy suitcase full of made-in-the-UK chocolates, and hobbling in pain like a cripple because of my bad back and hip, to dash across relentlessly heavy traffic of fast-moving cars and monster trucks across a multi-lane super highway, yes, definitely a death-defying act): I don’t think I’ll ever visit your country again, I am already way too busy with shit in my own country, so much work, so little time, lectures to deliver, at least three books to write, you get the idea. This is most definitely my last visit. I will miss your great and wonderful country and great and wonderful people like you from your great and wonderful country. So, sorry, this is our last meeting for sure. Have a great life!

I rolled my eyes at this fucktard’s audacious behavior.

H: It’s been years! Remember me? Let’s meet! I buy you lunch!
Me (realizing that it’s this bitch again): Er, I don’t eat lunch these days. I hardly eat dinner too. Nowadays, for my lunch and dinner, I drink meal replacements. I’m rehearsing for the day when I’ll be older than that evil war-mongering monstrosity Henry Kissinger and would have to “eat” my (pureed) meals through a tube in my nose. If you need help with anything, just email me!

Again, I rolled my eyes at the gall of such behavior.

I: When you come to London, please let me know, please give me a chance to return the hospitality you’ve shown to me and my family when we were living in Singapore. I will treat you to a nice dinner – London has every cuisine of the world – and a show at the West End, be sure you contact me when you come to London!
Me: (five years later) I’m finally here! Would love to catch up!
I: Welcome, welcome, but I’m extremely busy with work and all but I would still like to catch up indeed. However, the only time I have is when I do my morning jogs, would you like to jog with me tomorrow morning at 5:30am, we can chat and catch up while we jog, right?
Me: Me jog? I can’t even walk to my own goddamned toilet at home without losing my fucking balance. Thanks but no thanks.

Once again, I rolled my eyes at the actions of douche bags like him.

Don’t blame me for deciding to be an asshole from now on!

No more Lohcifer the pushover!

Enough is enough!

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