Brats.

I dont like spoiled brats. Because. Well because.. they're spoilt. And because they smell funny.

Especially rich brats. Or rich bratty bitches who thinks they're hot.. to which they are definitely not in most cases.
A bulb.. those cylinder kinds blowed in one of the departments and they asked me to call the contractor to fix it. I usually wait for 3 bulbs to blow cos the contractor service is darn expensive. But at the rate they're going, i dont think i can wait:

'Its soo daark heere'
'When is the contractor coming?'
'We cant work'
'I dont know how they can live without that light!'
'Are they coming this week? But today is already wednesday!'
'I think you better call, we cant read our papers especially those with the small fonts'

Whats really pathethic is that its really not dark at all! One light gone, and theres 3045 more lights there and 1132 little lights all scattered. Apparently they talk like they're trapped inside a damn cave.

The same cave person also commented about the courier guys who come pick up our stuff to be delivered to our consignees.

'Ok so these are 10 sets of invitations and small bottles of wine tied together... here's the list.. dont have them send it to the wrong person okaay? Make sure they give it directly to the consignees'

'Ok.'

'Eh but can the courier guys speak english?'

'Uh.. yeah..' (i was about to add duh)

So how did the courier guys end up being a courier guy then who needs to converse in english from time to time with their customers?

Brats.