Superstar saez::

I’m a nice guy. On most days at least. It takes a lot to piss me off. Contrary to popular belief, I’m really not as intimidating as they make me out to be. Honest.

Only 2 things in life piss the crank out of me. Other than whiny girls, weaklings, doormats, morons, customer service hotline, unpunctuality, price hikes, indecisive folks, people who can’t speak English and people who chope their seats with packets of tissue paper.

Piss-me-off #1: Don’t tell me ‘Don’t’.
Firstly I don’t take kindly to people who force their ideals and beliefs down my throat. This goes out mainly to all religious fanatics, MLM agents and our beloved parents. Secondly, it really drives me up the wall when people start telling me NOT to feel this way, NOT to feel that way, NOT to eat this, NOT to eat that.

Just the other day, something tickled my nose and I had to sneeze and sneeze I did. I enjoyed every moment of it. From the time of the built up, to the muscle contraction to riding the wave of the sneeze equivalent of an orgasm, I enjoyed every freaking minute of that sneeze. Mum came up to me and said “Don’t sneeze lah.”

God damn. I’m sorry. Excuse me. Maybe I offended you with my thunderous sneeze, but I can’t help it can I? Hey, wise crack, how about you NOT piss after 10 jugs of beer. You don’t get to cast that first stone.

Out with my friend the other day. Concern. Caring. Doting. Whatever. No body tells a man to NOT eat his chicken skin. Especially one from KFC. The good Colonel did not go out of the way to put in his secret blend of herbs and spices just so you can throw it away dipshit. Respect the colonel, bitch.

If I keel over and die from a heart attack cause my arteries are clogged, so be it. Here’s a news flash, sweetheart, you’re going to die too someday. At least with smoking and fatty food, I know exactly how I’m going to go. And for the record, not every smoker is going to end up looking like the picture on cigarette cartons. Jaywalking across Wisma will yield the same effect if you ain’t careful.

Just today. 5mins ago. A hot but annoying friend called to say hi. Being hot has it privileges. I gave her 3mins talk time out of my busy schedule. “Hey honey, why so curt? Don’t be grumpy.” She said in a high pitched, annoyingly bubbly tone.

Don’t. Be. Grumpy.

Let’s analyze this. First the speaker assumes that me being grumpy is a personal choice. I woke up one morning, look into my cupboard and decide which mood to put on. What to wear, what to wear? Then the speaker assumes authority over me and demands, request or persuade me to cease being in my present emotional state. So…just because you say Don’t be grumpy, my frown will magically turn up into a smile?

“It’s easy to just shrug your shoulders and say “don’t.” A real friend will take action. Do something. Truly honey, if you really want to cheer me up, put the money where your mouth is.”

Guys, the next time your girl throws a PMS-ic fit, turn over and tell her “Don’t be PMS-ic. Don’t.” That will probably get you a knee between the balls and night out on the couch. But hey, at least you’d get my respect.