Mistakes are ubiquitous, like bad PAP policies. School uniforms, pink shirts, dumb hair, Barney, techno musicians and all those sorts...everywhere. Yesterday proved it.
At Lot 1's McDonald's yesterday, I saw something most interesting. I saw an old man - and I'm talking OLD old. He's so old they couldn't tell the difference between his bones and his flesh. He's so old he can picture Michael Jackson black and with a nose. And the bugger, of all things a guy on a walking stick should do, was going around for cigarettes!
I was like, what in fuck...
The guy won't even live to see Goh Chok Tong get high and hump the merlion. What in fuck was he doing cutting life even shorter asking every smoking bugger outside lot 1 McDonald's for cigarettes? Nobody wants to die old, lame and with a prosthetic lung. I mean, get a normal old-man addiction, like Vietnamese wives or porn. Die in the arms of orgasm, baby. Don't snuff it to lung cancer and sheer stupidity. We have Mats for that. And don't throw away the remnants of your pride begging people outside Lot Fuckin' 1 for cigarettes. Age with grace man. Think Sean Connery's charm, not his penis. Get better and sturdier with age.
Seriously, when I looked at the sight it was a wonky cocktail of anger, pity and sadness. It was the epitome of a mistake - a dying man wasting his life away. I never want to age like that. I'm gonna die proud, strong and with enough calcium for me to walk upright.
But some things that happened yesterday went perfect. Just like the person I spent one of the best Mondays of my life with...
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