Saturday, March 8, 2008


And each second is a moment,
each moment a lifetime

I'm officially done with a long and tiring day-

Don't get me wrong, the filming itself wasn't very trying or tiring.
It was the little in betweens, to tell you the truth.
The bad cab rides, the walk to the hotel for the makeover bit, the changing out of clothings. That last bit wasn't that bad, to be honest. It's just, well, awkward. Because of my still-healing arm.

What pissed me off the most today, topped the list like a bitch on a high, were two out of three of my cab rides.
I fucking swear, they were like, the worst cab rides i've ever been on!

CABBY 1- the revenge of the rollercoaster accident victim
Like the cab ride to SMU (where our film was shot) for example, the cabbie was a horrid driver. He sped up and slowed down at random and was constantly jerking.
Charyle threw up her breakfast after we got down.
He talked mostly in Chinese (not that I've a problem with that), but the person giving him directions (Ranjeet) doesn't look Chink, does he? I don't blame him though, if he doesn't speak English. But it's pretty something considering how he's a cabbie and will undoubtedly have Malay
and Indian passengers.

CABBY 2- used to cumming in thirty seconds or less
The worst cab ride, was tonight. The one I just got back from.
I was with V and Eme, and I was carrying a whole bunch of shit because of my full day shoot. Anyway, we clamber into the cab while he's at the bus stop. He hurries us, which is understandable, because he might get fined.
I get in the front with my load of shit, and, because of my weak, cut up arm, fail to close the door properly the first time and have to do it again.
"Aiyoh, why so clumsy." The fuck-head says, "Police can catch, know!"

In an effort to climb in as quickly as possible, my stuff is still on my lap.
Two seconds into the drive, before i can even breathe after channeling energy through my stitches, fuck-head waves his hand at my giant Aldo bag and goes, "Can no put here, don't liddat, cannot see."
I shove the bag on the floor, the tiny construction worker in the left side of my brain drilling holes into my skull. I'm too lazy to answer.

I spit out the directions, and when he asks, i repeat them coldly, like he is a fuck-head. Which, oh wait, he kind of is.

After dropping Vee off and swinging into my carpark where i am due to get off first before he drives Eme in, this is what happens.
First, as Im passing her cash, fuck-head tells me to "Hurry, got car."
There weren't cars by the way.
As i turn to open the door, my handbag still open after stuffing my wallet in and (by gosh!) my handle grazing his fuck-headed handgear, he tells me to,
"Careful your bag" attempting, not so much to help me with my strap, but lifting it out of the way and, after i take it, picks up my plastic bag near his fuck-headed machines to hand it to me.

Not in a helpful way, mind you. Noooo, far from it in fact!
More like in an impatient, 'why do you have so much stuff' way.
I just went,
"What the fuck" snatched my stuff and left after saying goodbye, pointedly, to Eme.

Like HELLO, what in the world!

At the same time though, i met the most fantastic cabbie who drove me to work yesterday.
Utterly hilarious and completely undeserving of a singe word that is in the same blog post as those other cabbies.
I'll save this for another time:D

Meanwhile, i'm disgustingly tired and very close to dropping DEAD

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