I hate it when cabbie uncle tries a tad too hard to make small talk with me.
 
WORST! When they start telling you great-grandmother story why Woodbridge Hospital changed its name to IMH, when you merely and conveniently tell them Buangkok Link is beside IMH.
 
Dot. Dot. Dot. Dot. Dot.
 
 
And he had to take a freaking 10 mins to finally realised he had been talking to himself, did he eventually shut the fuck up.
 
 
My fault. My fault. If only I had not mentioned the three letters – I.M.H.
 
 
 
It was seriously all I could do not to stuff his mouth with my stinky socks I haven’t washed in 2 mths lor! I tell you.
 
 
 
 
Anyway I just realised that I will settle on the language to speak to the cabbie driver, from whatever radio channel he is tuning in. LOL.
 
But yesterday hor, that sibei talkative cabbie uncle proved me wrong, when he was tuning in to Class 95, but was yakking non-stop to me in mandarin wor.
 
 
OK. I don’t even know the rational behind, telling you all these. HAHA.
 
 
 
Anyway. I’m so expecting an impending full blown flu and fever.
 
WOOHOO! How fun!