Disaterrama…

hell yeah1

            Sadness echoes as I put these words into txt, thoughts keeps blistering my head over and over again, and I supposed sanity hid behind those dark clouds of travesty to give way to their greed. No kudos for them again, I guess.

            Another year, another tragedy, seems like were dancing in an endless waltz of chaos called Disasterrama “sorry it was Christmas party or was it a party after all?” Year after year, we flow from dullness to oblivion and I can almost see the Nazi’s smear at the genocide right before my eyes. Shit fly’s all-over the place to pesterize the evening. Dismay had the right that night to slip from everyone’s lips as we try to hide it with a fraud smile.

            It was another gloomy night and no song of joy to uplift the spirit of the restless, we find no happiness in everyone’s eye, or maybe it’s only us who didn’t enjoy the night. A hollow sound, a dull  place, another mindless presentations, more worthless gifts…what more can I ask for, these time I can see happiness wave goodbye as she sink in the sea of melancholic dream. No more smile, I think it’s time we dine, in a world of no hallucination called pretention and gather up our balls and shout “go to hell!”

            What’s with the venue? I know that the theme this year was “rockista and fashionista” but a garage as a venue for a once-a-year-occasion? Come ‘on, don’t be such a greedy. If this was the idea, then we might as well call it garage party? Am I not wrong? And mind you, rock is not a fashion, it’s an attitude. Wearing a black tight-balls-emphasize-jeans won’t make you a rock star, grow up man, Robin Padilla and Cesar Montano was not and never a rocker, not even Zian Lim who won the title that night. All they can sing is an out-of-tuned-love song which they prefer to sing in their romantic scenes, care for some trash bin to puke on? But as expected, it was an old acquaintance who won the title of Miss fashionista, hands down, she really deserve it. But, let me tell you something, rock was never a clothing line, so can we not make it as a theme on our next disasterrama? Though black is for rock and not for hip-hop, would we please spare us in this travesty? Who among us really listen to a wolfgang music? Thus anyone bang their heads as Malcolm young slams his hair? Is there any other among us who have the balls to squeeze there selves amidst a horde of unethical bacchanals who love to Blistererized others in a mosh pit, the answer is none. It was an efing night for me, and for the first time, it was only a two hour event, no more excuses, everybody packed their things and went home by 12-MIDNIGHT. Even our OO‘s was so disappointed that they took no effort to stay much longer. Okay, the food was great, praise them, but that’s it. Nothing more. Period.

            Apathy resonates as we try so hard to cover up the flaw. Haven’t we learned from our mistake, I mean, what’s with the raffle draw? Are we some grade school that can be bribed with some worthless shit? Go fuck yourself! Don’t be such a greedy please? Haven’t I been telling this in these posts over and over again? Greediness is a state of mind called dilemma where we exorcize happiness from others and indulge in their agony as they strive hard to stay afloat while we joyously push them down.

           

5 yrs. strong that I’d been working as a part of this family and it’s my 6^th time to attend in our so-called-Disasterrama, and never had I’d been dismayed like this! I almost puked when I saw nicky and yca, but that’s another story. Honestly, I for one has hoping for a much greater, an extravagant party that evening. But everything was ruined by these hope, you see hope only causes pain, it’s the lit of anguish that we fear most yet we love to dwell in these insipid thing and we ourselves are to be blamed for these pains. For 5yrs, our former bosses and our former star make sure to have a memorable party, no offense to my best friend, but I wish she had the balls to bite back each time our bosses act upon their dim-witted meats called brain. Maybe for the newbies, having a party at a garage is a kick-ass scene, but in the real world, it’s not, being a stingy is not a cool thing, money won’t buy you happiness, but it can rent a decent place for us to have a much happier party and it can buy lots of beer.

As usual we started late, for I was one of those late comers. I decided to sip some brain freezer with my other pain in the ass workmates. As I said earlier the food was great, but other than that, I think I’ll just shut up and let the others do the talking. And, I think what you’ve read is enough pretexts, and allow me to nag on those fucking things I care none, for I love to dip on things I’m not related to, so would you please put down your pitch fork and wipe of that grin in your efing face. Sit back, and start smashing your keyboard.

First and foremost, to all those insipid who vulgarly told everybody that they wouldn’t attend, stick to your balls man! Your-no-fucking-elvis to be that special, I mean, if what you want to say is you’re not sure, then say “probably” or “maybe” to hell with you. 

Did you enjoy the famous “litson baboy”? it was donated by a fellow friend whom we love to borrow money, a lending investor as one might say. Thanks to her, we might have end up in shortage of food. But what sickens me is this; our OM was not amazed because of the mere fact that she is lending us money with an interest. Let’s just drop off aiza for a moment, and focus on the word “lend”. Is she some idiot or a naïve to know not that carrel was lending money before with far much greater interest? Is she not updated with the latest lender in town? Is she not that thankful that someone given us a decent food, when in the mere fact she’s the one that should have given us a “litson baboy”. Let’s just say that it was only 5k, but can she give us even a 1k worth of food from her own pocket. NGANGA! Where would we borrow? In our store EEF? EMPLOYEE EMERGENCY FUND, so much for the emergency, it would took 6 months before it can be granted, can they even lend as much as 2k, hell no! Fuck off! You’re no one of us to pretend that you know how to live in our shoes. You’re living by stepping in our head. Niggard! Let’s just say, that we had spit in your face, and you’ve taken it as an insult.

Lastly, if you guys want to gulf some brain-freezer-libido-enhancer-drink, make sure that you’re no tight-fisted-niggard. Having you with us was such an honour at first, but leaving us with all the bill, come ‘on, we all need money. Go find somebody else to treat you,.

It saddens me to admit that what happened was far worse than chaos; it was an utter disarray of grief and dismay.  We strive so hard to please your asses, yet you failed to put a worth remembering occasion. Time after time, we managed to survive the everyday ordeal of our company, from broken tiles, to clog grease traps, from late crews to nagging managers, but isn’t it time for us to have some fun? Let’s set aside the difference and let ego dissolve in the storm forgiveness. Cast words of blissful happiness and praised those who deserve to be praised, and as much as possible give those who deserve their wages to be raised. The essence of a Christmas party is put in a simple aphorism; it’s the spirit of giving. If we can’t meet with this, then we might as well sink in turmoil of stingy bosses and let greediness ransack our dreams.