This was far-by, the worst, amongst the very few jobs I took up.
The whole God-damned working enviroment consisted of 80% indians, of which, 79.99% of them reeked of decomposed fish and rotten eggs - A deadly combination I must say.I clearly recalled it pushing my limit and I was praying for God to make me breathe through my asshole.Sad to say,there is really no point for indians putting on perfumes because its as good as trying to put out a forest fire with your own pee.The few good Indians that had no smell / smelled good (0.01%) must have soaked themselves in bleach or detergent and then used a whole bottle of Hugo Boss perfume for a day.
Initially, we were told we were selling wine for the International Wine Exhibition ( A pretty huge thing for carefour ), but we ended up unpacking them and clearing the boxes and cartons - I mean, as a considerate Singaporean who emphasizes on Racial Harmony, I shouldn't be stealing the few job prospects Indians were born to do, like this one right ?
Bloody laborious , not forgetting to mention that working with uncivilised, hairy, black, smelly and sweaty animals made the job a whole lot suckier.
Furthermore, there was this puny blackass who was trying to boss Cyrus and me around.The first few times we just listened because we thought he was of some higher rank, but after we realised that he wasn't, we just pretended we couldn't hear his instructions. HAHA. But that black fucker got abit smarter and asked us to do stuff right in front of the manager.
On our last day, Cyrus wanted to cut off his penis and yank out every strand of hair off his pathetic moustache and I would flush him down the girl's toilet bowl to right where he truely belongs - the sewage.Maybe then, on National Day, he could sing, " Sewage, my Home." and remember us on that day for doing a great part in rediscovering his own identity, as a genuine Indian.
So if you happen to ask my race, I am no chinese.
I'm a racist.
Moral of the Story.
Definition of a Family Photo - An Indian standing next to a piece of shit.
The whole God-damned working enviroment consisted of 80% indians, of which, 79.99% of them reeked of decomposed fish and rotten eggs - A deadly combination I must say.I clearly recalled it pushing my limit and I was praying for God to make me breathe through my asshole.Sad to say,there is really no point for indians putting on perfumes because its as good as trying to put out a forest fire with your own pee.The few good Indians that had no smell / smelled good (0.01%) must have soaked themselves in bleach or detergent and then used a whole bottle of Hugo Boss perfume for a day.
Initially, we were told we were selling wine for the International Wine Exhibition ( A pretty huge thing for carefour ), but we ended up unpacking them and clearing the boxes and cartons - I mean, as a considerate Singaporean who emphasizes on Racial Harmony, I shouldn't be stealing the few job prospects Indians were born to do, like this one right ?
Bloody laborious , not forgetting to mention that working with uncivilised, hairy, black, smelly and sweaty animals made the job a whole lot suckier.
Furthermore, there was this puny blackass who was trying to boss Cyrus and me around.The first few times we just listened because we thought he was of some higher rank, but after we realised that he wasn't, we just pretended we couldn't hear his instructions. HAHA. But that black fucker got abit smarter and asked us to do stuff right in front of the manager.
On our last day, Cyrus wanted to cut off his penis and yank out every strand of hair off his pathetic moustache and I would flush him down the girl's toilet bowl to right where he truely belongs - the sewage.Maybe then, on National Day, he could sing, " Sewage, my Home." and remember us on that day for doing a great part in rediscovering his own identity, as a genuine Indian.
So if you happen to ask my race, I am no chinese.
I'm a racist.
Moral of the Story.
Definition of a Family Photo - An Indian standing next to a piece of shit.
posted by Turbanmale at
11:36 AM
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