Saturday, August 20, 2005

Of Terengganu and A Man Named George

Some people are just morons. Point in case, during my BMW event in Terengganu, I was paired up with this dude from a Chinese daily for a beach challenge of sorts. We were supposed to go on this cannoe, paddle our way out to sea, swing aroun a buoy, and then return before everyone else. We were flagged off, and my teammate still wasn't on the beach. Annoyingly, I found him still wandering around in the beach hut clueless as to what's going on. Even worse still, he hasn't even put on his life jacket, and we left a few good seconds late. Since that lumbering wuss refused to sit in front, I took the lead. You've got to have brains of lead to be as profoundly stupid as that guy, because he simply had no modicum of common sense at all. Look you motherfucker, I'm in front, so obviously you follow my paddle strokes. As you can expect, I paddled one way and he paddled the other, so we were literally going nowhere. Well, actually, we were heading out into the open sea, which terrifed the fuck outta me. Even as I frantically tried to paddle to the right side of the cannoe to get us nearer to the buoy, he paddled the exact opposite direction. WTF MAN. He then had the nerve to voice his frustrations at me, as if our lack of progress is of my fault, and then get this, he directed me to paddle left to steer the cannoe to the left. I literally dropped my jaw and stopped paddling for a while, because I couldn't believe I was in the company of something that stupid. OI YOU STUPID FUCK, IF YOU PADDLE ON THE LEFT, WE'D STEER TO THE RIGHT. I took a glance around and noticed everyone else is already standing on the beach waiting for us to return, and I just wanted to drown right there and then and end my misery. In my frustration, I told him to paddle to the right, and for a time, things seemed good. Then he did it again, and paddled the other way. By this time, the cannoe was horizontal to the waves, and I saw this particularly large wave coming right for us. TIU LOH. This is it, my death in the hands of an incapable fuck. We tipped over, fell out of the cannoe, and I wondered if angels served Martinis in heaven. It was then my feet touched the sand below and I realized the water was only hip-deep. Fuck man, I was planning for a dramatic near-death sea rescue to happen, which I could conveniently blame on my partner. We returned to the beach to much of the riducule of the rest of the journalists, and I tried to explain what happened to to avail. MAHAI it's not like BMW build boats right. His name is George, btw. And George, I've seen you drive, and you drive like a motherfucking girl. That man is behind the wheel of a 200 horsepower monster and he hasn't the balls to overtake a lorry doing 40km/h. I'd like to see you go off a cliff one day, you sorry sack of shit.
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