Rants & Raves of Jasmine’s Fiction

… How long it would take for someone to notice that I wasn’t around after I’ve slit my throat?

My dog would know of course.  But how long would it take a person to notice? 

When my corpse starts to rot, and the stench of decomposing flesh fills the house?

Would my sisters notice?  One of them won’t, she’s away.  The other one probably wouldn’t either.  She can barely look after herself.

My husband?  No, he doesn’t care.  All he cares about is himself, selfish lying bastard. 

I’m sick and tired of being an afterthought.  I’m sick and tired of being forgotten.  I’m sick and tired of everyone assuming that I can take care of myself so no one has to take care of me.  I’m sick and tired of being lied to.  I’m sick and tired of not being heard, even when I scream.  I’m sick and tired of being taken for granted.

I think I know who will probably find me.  The housekeeper.  Next week.

Bye.

P/S:  Everything is to go to my mother.  No one else deserves my stuff.

When it comes to the world of shiny superheroes (and supervillains), I’m a huge fan.  It’s true that some purist out there will think that I’m full of shit because I don’t collect 1^st editions and use gloves and tweezers to handle my glossies, but heck, I love comic books.

Yep.  I love comic books.  Or if you really want to be PC; Graphic Novels.   (Fine, I know that as a girl I’m not supposed to like these things but to heck with social norms.)  There’s just something about the uniformity, the layout, and all those sleek designs on glossy paper.  Not to mention how art and words fuse in perfect harmony into wonderful stories – so be it 30 years past or 30 years hence, we will (still) be enjoying comic books.  Sorry, Graphic Novels.

Seriously.  How else could we possibly fall in love with blind homicidal vigilantes (Daredevil); orphaned billionaire womanisers with genius intellects that spends all their free time when not fighting crime and indulging in their vices inventing cool stuff (Batman & Iron Man) and geeky nerds accidentally bestowed with apocalyptic powers trying desperately to cope with life (Spiderman & Hulk)?  How else can everyone in those imaginary worlds be perfectly built (ripped muscles, perfectly formed limbs, gorgeous faces and other uh, assets) and how else can super twisted evil geniuses take over the world?

And lkets face it.  Without comics graphic novels where would-Hollywood-find ideas on what movies to make?  Just Marvel Comics alone have spawned several blockbusters – Blade, Spiderman, X-Men (trilogies); Fantastic 4, Hulk, Punisher (duologies); Daredevil, Elektra, Ghost Rider, and the new and upcoming Iron Man.   DC Comics gave us Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Batman, (and the rest of the Justice League), V For Vendetta, Constantine, Teen Titans, Catwoman, League of Extraordinary Gentleman and Road To Perdition. 

I don’t even have to mention (but I will) Frank Miller’s fantastic artwork in his stories like 300 and-Sin-City-and his Robocop and Dark Knight. 

And please don’t tell me that comics are only for kids!  If you feel that way, go do yourself a favour and go pick up the original 300 and you tell me if you will let your kids read stuff like that.  If that’s too much for you, you can ask my mother to lend you her Modesty Blaise series.  :D  Its definitely lighter fare than a lot of the Dark Horse Comics stuff but its still geared towards adults. 

Of course its true that comics started out as child entertainment (back in the days before we had colour TV and iPods and X-Boxes) and there are many ‘kiddie’ comics that I still enjoy till today like Richie Rich, MAD, Beeno, Archie, Asterix & Obelix and the more family oriented ones like Zits, Pickles, Calvin & Hobbs , Peanuts, Garfield etc.  But for me, nothing quite beats the shiny superheroes & evil supervillains.

I recently rediscovered my interest for billionaire industrialist alcoholic womanising inventor Tony Stark or better known as The Invincible Iron

Man.

  In the light of all the recent hype over Superman and Batman, I forgot what the Avengers use to be like for me when I was little with Captain America leading the fore with his shield against BlackWidow from the Cold War, the caustic S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Nick Fury and of course, the mysterious Iron Man in his power suit.

So last month when my hubby brought back home the Ultimate Avengers, (re-imagined to fit today’s society, technology, mindset and scenarios) I devoured both DVDs like I was 8 years old again with my first glossy copy of Captain America & The Mighty Avengers.  And just last weekend I managed to find some time to watch the animated version of The Invincible Iron Man (vs. my favourite villain, The Mandarin).

What’s not to like about him?  Aside from the womanising alcoholic part.  And the arrogant, disrespectful, egotistical part.  And the single minded industrialist part.  And the weapons maker part.  And the slightly psychotic, mommy attachment issues part.

Flawed superheroes that are actually human intrigue me more than the super meta humans / mutants / aliens etc.  Why?  Because I feel that flawed humans not only have to battle evil villains but their own demons as well.  And Tony Stark has to be one of the most flawed of superheroes. 

Orphaned at a young age when his parents died from faulty brakes in a car accident, the young 15 year old MIT Electrical Engineering grad’s first project upon inheriting Stark Enterprises was to buy off that car company and fix the faulty problem.  Fast forward several years and he’s off-in-Afghanistan-to-introduce his new missile design when the air force unit he is travelling with is ambushed and he is taken hostage with a serious injury – shrapnel lodged in his heart.

Forced to build weapons for the enemy, he instead, builds himself a bulletproof power suit complete with pacemaker, artificial heart and flamethrowers and uses it to escape and once he’s back home, he advances the design to include jet propelled flight abilities and a MASSIVE arsenal of weaponry AND, he paints it red and gold.  PRETTY!  He’s my kind of superhero – flawed, inventive, with no superhuman abilities to speak of but he can hold his own, with change to spare.

And I guess I really like Tony Stark because in all the comics and animations he looks like the sexiest man alive:  Oded Fehr. PHWARRR.  Unfortunately, in the new upcoming Iron Man movie (summer 2008), Robert Downey Jr. will be playing him.   Small consolations.

So now, while I await with bated breath for my hero to appear on the silver screen, I’m going back to my glossies. And my oogling of the sexiest man alive.  Enjoy folks!

Oh yeah baby. Bring on the flesh eating zombies and let the brains get flying. This past weekend my hubby brought home a very awful bootleg copy of the newest and third instalment of one of the better zombie movies; Resident Evil: Extinction. Milla Jovovich returns-as-Alice-and-this time she teams up with a bunch of humans on a convoy in a post-apocalyptic world.

As always, most zombie movies are loaded with bullets, gore, truckloads of blood, half eaten brains of the helpless victims and lots of eye candy. Unless of course, the zombie movie you are watching is Paris Hilton’s sex tape, in which case minus all the above except the half eaten brains part.

So Resident Evil: Extinction had all the good bits – graphic shots of people getting mangled, zombies getting shot and blown up, Ali Larter in a tank top, Milla opening several cans of zombie whoopass, and the sexiest MAN alive – Oded Fehr.  OH.  MY. GOD.

Move over Orlando Bloom you pansy momma’ s boy. This is a real MAN!  I mean, seriously.  Look at all that yummy manliness.  Woo.  AND, he’s got a sexy voice.

Okay.  So back to the zombie movie.  This is 5 years after-Raccoon-City-in-Resident Evil: Apocalypse where the zombie making virus has travelled across the globe and basically killed of or zombie-fied all humans, turning earth into a desert wasteland at the brink of extinction. The convoy are what remains of the survivors as they scavenge their way across the country in search of supplies and other survivors.  Led by Claire Redfield (Ali Larter in a tank top) and Carlos Olivera (more yummy manliness) they do their best to protect everyone till-Alice-joins them.

Of course, as with all zombie movies, lots of mindless deaths and several heroic sacrifices are part and parcel to the storyline and Extinction is no different. The best one had to be when Carlos goes down in a blaze of glory in a dynamite loaded gasoline truck, toking on a fatty.  My obsession with sexy Oded Fehr aside; that exit is quite high up the list of ultimate character endings.

And so movie ends-with-Alice-kicking more steroid induced super zombie butt, and then setting up for the next Resident Evil movie. There is no end to it.  I think the only thing that will really sad for me if Resident Evil 4 comes out would be the fact that they already killed off Carlos, so no more Oded Fehr. L  Sadness.

So now, I’m going to go dig through my extensive DVD collection and drag out The Mummy & The Mummy Returns for more Oded Fehr as Ardeth Bay the Medjai.  Phwwarrrr.  Seriously.  This man brings sexy back.  Enjoy the pics folks.

As the impending doom date approaches at the speed of light, I find myself constantly at the end of my temper fuse.  And I can’t help but feel that somedays everyone out there has turned stupid to royally PISS me off to add to the whole stressed situation that is very quickly turning me into a seething pile of Mad Cow PMS.

But my sister did also point out that due to the whole stress thing I’m also becoming more unreasonable. To the point where I’m demanding impossible things to be possible.  I tell her it’s a Catch 22.  If stupid people didn’t piss me off, I wouldn’t get so angry and start yelling and making ridiculous stipulations of said stupid people so they can fix their fuck-ups and make things up to me.

It’s true.  I’m not saying that I’m completely not at fault. I have a short fuse and I do blow up frequently and I’m a vindictive grudge bearer. However, if people didn’t so often give me a reason to be in Mad Cow PMS mode, I’m normally a happy person. 

But see, there’s THESE dumb fucks I have to deal with:

There’s the slow as a 3 toed sloth in straitjacket restaurant manager who can’t get anything till it is literally drawn out for him down to the guts, in 3 languages. Then there’s the dumbass bitch of a hotel assistant manager, who is so badly trained and stupid that she cannot apologise to my face for royally fucking up my bill, till I ripped her and her boss a new asshole, and even then she’s insincere. And I cannot forget my clear as mud dressmaker who, after 21 months of description, pictures & diagrams STILL can’t get my dress right. Then there’s the soon to be ex-friends on the invitee list who cannot confirm attendance for whatever lame reasons and still giving me the run-around. And I can barely get a grip on myself when I think about the wankers that my folks have invited who demand whole tables for themselves and their uninvited offsprings/parents/whores escorts dates and insists on being seated at prime tables.

So lets be honest; is it really awful of me to demand for gratis stuff from the caterers?  Is it really unreasonable that I want free upgrades for all the pain and suffering I went through with my bank because the hotel massively overcharged me? Am I a horrible person because I demanded that my dressmaker replace me a new dress because she can’t make me what I want after 21 months of alterations?  Am I going to hell if I cut out indifferent and self centred (soon to be ex-)friends when they can’t give me a straight yes or no when the event is only 3 weekends away?

Anyway, I can feel my blood pressure rising again and I really don’t want to have another tear my hair out session so I’m just going to leave it here.

With a cute cartoon.  Enjoy folks.  May you find it as Deja Moo as I do.  :D  After all, that really does remind me of me.

Okay, I think I’ve had a fatal seizure and I’m now in heaven because I just found THIS!!! Oh My Sugary Carb Sweetness!!! 

THIS IS A SUGARED DOUGHNUT TOPPED COFFEE LIQUEUR CUPCAKE!!! With Whipped Cream.

This is it folks.  There IS a cupcake heaven and I’ve found it.

Folks, I have a serious issue now with a certain food that I am CERTAIN was made by the devil.  No, I’m not talking about doughnuts.  I’m talking about these:

Yummy mouthfuls of creamy, buttery sweetness.  Looking oh-so-pretty and colourful, CUPCAKES brighten up my day.  Why?

As far as I’m concerned, cupcakes are democratic, fair and (almost) guilt free. You serve cupcakes at a party, everyone gets one, no need to wait awkwardly for the unevenly hacked off slice and no need to lament or listen to said laments of “oh its too much, I only want a small slice etc.” Cupcakes can be finished in a matter of 1 bite (if you are like my husband) or many little bites (if you are like me). You don’t share cupcakes (unless you are weird) and you don’t have to be wracked with guilt because seriously, cupcakes are tiny. And if there’s extra, you can go back for seconds without looking like a greedy bastard. And did I mention they look oh-so-pretty?

Of course there’s more to cupcakes than just aesthetics. There’s a cupcake out there to suit every taste from the sweet to the fruity to the savoury. I know that there are vegan and lacto / gluten / flour / egg / nut / etc free cupcakes and even cupcakes for the diabetic. Not forgetting that cupcakes come in different sizes from the supersizeme gargantuan monstrosities the size of a bowling ball (for the hardcore crazies) to the mini little inch wide cuties (for the calorie conscious) – there’s something to please everyone.  Don’t believe me?  Give a cupcake to a toothless 90 year old, a cynical 50 year old and a grabby 2 year old. All will be equally happy at receiving and eating the cupcake.  And buying cupcakes doesn’t break the bank.

So back to the pretty part.  I like how cupcake makers take great pains not to just slap on frosting and be done with it. You can personalise cupcakes, be creative and make little works of art.  Like these little lovelies.

However I will draw the line at this US$500.00 cupcake. As my sister so aptly put it, there’s a sucker born every minute.

But this one, this is my favourite.  This is carb on carb cannibalism at its best.  It’s a cupcake eating a cookie.  And when YOU eat this cupcake… You get both the cupcake AND the cookie. What’s not to like about that? 

Ok that’s enough talk folks. There’s a yellow buttermilk with blue butter frosting cupcake that’s calling my name right about now. Oh and folks?  Please don’t ask me what my wedding cake will look like. I’m sure you already know. 

Quite a few nights ago my family (sans my hubby) braved the horrendous city traffic in the downpour for dinner at what we remembered to be an awesome restaurant (this memory stems from way back in the early 90s)-called-Eden-Seafood-Village-.

Don’t let the ‘village’ part of the name fool you folks, this place is about as posh as its going to get.  And expensive – averaging about $90 per person for an appetiser and entrée. Obviously, we were expecting a really nice experience.  So, all together now…

WE WERE WRONG.

Firstly, EVERYTHING was slow.  Like, a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter.  We got to the place and since it was raining mom suggested to valet the car.  So I wait…  And wait…  And wait.  10 minutes later, the valet kid comes running up and he takes my less than 4 month old Volvo S80C… AND SCREECHES OFF TO PARK IT!!!  AFGAFGAFGAFGAFGAFGAFGAFGAFGA!!!!

Bleh.  I was too hungry to really kick up a fuss so in we went to get a table.  Mind you there were only 4 couples and two other families at the place so plus us that would make the place top out at 7 tables.  And ours was the largest party at 6 people.

The table they showed us to was for 10 top and since it was too big, we suggested a switch to a smaller table.  The waiter just stood there with his mouth open and dumbly pointed back to the table the hostess showed us to. 

So daddy told him, “This table is too big for 6 of us.  We want to talk to each other.  Can we get another table instead?”

Again, the [dumb]waiter just stood there and pointed to our original table.  Giving up, we just moved to the smaller table.  As we are perusing through the menus we discover that the spot that we picked was way too cold.  Shivering, mom suggested we move to a table away from the air-conditioning vents.  When the [dumb]waiter came back to get our orders, we told him that the table is too cold and we wanted to move.  Guess what?  He pointed back to the same 10 top we were shown to.

>.<

Lord, grant us patience to accept the things we cannot change.  And the ability to change things we cannot accept.

That being said, we move to the new table, leaving [dumb]waiter gaping at us in confusion.  Sitting down, we motion for him to come and get our orders.  He dumbly complies.  Mom orders for a lobster bisque for Jenny (who was visiting us-from-China-)-, a seafood chowder for daddy and then she adds a 2^nd lobster bisque for herself.  My sister chips in and orders a medium steak.  Then mom chimes back in and orders garlic bread for everyone at the table.  Not quite finished with her order, my sister then asks to replace her potatoes with fries.  And you know what the [dumb]waiter said?

“Uh…  So want fries, so no garlic bread?”

>.<

Lord, have mercy.

We had to slowly tell him that the fries were for my sister’s medium steak and the garlic bread still stands.  FINALLY, the [dumb]waiter nods and finishes taking orders from the rest of us.

I was the last one he came to so first thing I said to him was, “What’s the soup of the day?” 

He looks at me in horror.  “Uhhhhh…  Huh?”

Steeling myself from screaming at his utter brainlessness, I bracingly told him in a very clear tone, “WHAT.  IS.  THE.  SOUP.  OF.  THE.  DAY.”

Stammering, he grins sheepishly at me and stutters, “Uhhhhh, d-d-d-don’t know…”

HOLY DUMBASS, BATMAN!  So I told him, “Well go and find out.”

Jiggling on the spot like he’s got fleas, he stammers for several seconds before running off to the kitchens to find out.  Sigh.  Skipping back, he tells me, “Cream of chicken soup.”

Okay.  Scrap that.  I order a medium rare steak.  He repeats, “Medium well…?”

“NO!  Medium RARE.”

“Medium…?”

“MEDIUM RARE!”

“Medium… Rare…”

“YES!!!”

I swear to God, working with autistic children wasn’t this trying.

THEN, we order lobster and jumbo prawns (shrimp).  So standard procedure for lobster is the same for wine.  The restaurant shows us the lobster, we either approve and then they cook it, or we disapprove and send it back and repeat the process.  So we told [dumb]waiter to bring out the lobster to show us.  He nodded and left.

So we waited.

And we waited.

Appetisers came…  But no live lobster.

So we tried to signal for the [dumb]waiter.  No one was around.  In fact, service was so lousy for SEVEN (7) tables; the table next to us just paid their bill and left after trying in vain to order dessert for over 15 minutes.  And the other family group actually went to refill their glasses themselves. 

Then the garlic bread came.  Mom ordered garlic bread for everyone.  The basket came out with 5 pieces.  We had 6 people at the table.  Well gee, that’s great math for you.  And then our soup came.  And if you check the order above, we ordered 2 lobster bisques and 1 seafood chowder.  What came out was 1 lobster bisque, 1 seafood chowder and 1 oxtail soup.  Where the oxtail soup came from we haven’t a clue. 

So finally we manage to flag down the supervisor.  We told him what had happened, and that we have yet to see our lobster and he needs to get us another piece of garlic bread.

This came out of the supervisor’s mouth.  “Our garlic bread comes 5 pieces per basket, so you want garlic bread for everyone, so that means each person gets 1 basket?”

Whaaaaaaaaat the???  From one extreme to the other.  I am so not surprised that the [dumb]waiter is the way he is, seeing that the supervisor is another moron.  Long story short, (this is to spare me any more aggravation because just reiterating this story is bringing up my blood pressure) we literally had to spell out what was required so the errant oxtail soup was returned and the correct lobster bisque was brought and the fresh lobster was presented to us.

That’s still not the end of the ordeal.  The steaks came.  My steak, because I repeated Medium Rare 3 times, came out right.  My sister however, got her fries but her steak came out medium well.  Sigh.  Then getting our water glasses refilled was another pain.  Asking for extra cutlery (steaks came without steak knives, soups came without spoons, lobster came without accoutrements; go figure), napkins, general SERVICE of any sort was in short, agonising.  This was like Chinese Water Torture.  With champagne.  And even getting the bill was like rolling a bowling ball up Everest.  Even Jenny who’s from CHINA said that the service back home wasn’t quite so awful.

And how was the food?  50/50.  Some things were really good – like Susan’s mango filo. Some things were just awful – like the chocolate ice cream that resembled a pile of turd, and tasted like it had gone stale. Everything else was average by usual steakhouse chain standards, which should not have been so.

Verdict?

NEVER.

EVER.

EVEN IF YOU PAID ME A THOUSAND BUCKS.

NEVER.

NEVER going back.

Like. Seriously.

Constantly, consistently renewed; endless in the threads the Maker has created for us.  I know it has been a long while since my last post – I just haven’t had the time or the subject to commit anything down here until now.

Dear readers, it is with deep sadness that I pull myself out of my everyday madness to bring you this news. Some of you may feel unaffected by it as you may not be familiar with this man’s epic work but this is for those of you who have been touched by his words and shared his world.

Two days ago, the man named James Oliver Rigney Jr. or better known as Robert Jordan, author of the Wheel Of Time series; lost his long and agonising battle to a heart condition.

It seems only yesterday when I first spied Eye of The World on my dorm mate’s shelf and I asked him about it. Promptly handing me the book my mate said only 3 words - “It’s really awesome!” 

And like a hungry wolf in the midst of lambs, I devoured all 7 books that were written at the time and eagerly awaited for more.  (11 books have been published at this date, and the 12^th remains unfinished)  The imprint that his words and ideas left on me will remain with me forever.

The seals that hold back night shall weaken,
    and in the heart of winter shall winter’s heart be born
    amid the wailing of lamentations and the gnashing of teeth,
    for winter’s heart shall ride a black horse,
    and the name of it is Death.

- from The Karaethon Cycle:
The Prophecies of the Dragon – Winter’s Heart (book 9)

Robert Jordan, I alongside your family, friends and the millions of fans around the world, will mourn the loss of your genius, creativity and talent. May your legacy forever immortalise you.  And in your own words, ‘may you shelter in the palm of the Creator’s hand, and may the last embrace of the mother welcome you home’.

My dear mate James sent me the funniest conversation montage from a chatroom he was in recently.  What is really funny is that he went in as “girl17”.  I HAD to share this with everyone.

Convo 1

Guest_49912: would u like to see me?

girl17: who are you

Guest_49912: im kobi…

girl17: right

Guest_49912: i have a web cam

Guest_49912: so if u want to just say

girl17: why would i want to see your webcam

Guest_49912: i dont know

girl17: neither do i

Guest_49912: to meat me my…be

girl17: and…why would i want to meet you?

Guest_49912: becus…

Convo 2

KinkyMan: hi

girl17: hi

KinkyMan: age?

girl17: cant you read?

Convo 3

jojo1: hi

girl17:  hi

jojo1: how r u

girl17: bored

jojo1: your nam

girl17: pippi longstockings

jojo1: oh is very nice nam

Convo 4

Sexy_Superman: hi

girl17: hi

Sexy_Superman: hi asl

girl17: im from

sweden

Sexy_Superman: cool r u sexy

girl17: are you?

Sexy_Superman: yes i am 6′4” tall brown hair dark blue eyes 219 lbs very athletic

girl17: so what are you doing in a chatroom

girl17: do you have a small penis or something

Convo 5

Guest_8129: tell me

Guest_8129:  do u shave or trim

Guest_8129: i  like to shavec

Guest_8129: do u

girl17: my ass yeah

girl17: i have a hairy ass

girl17: does that turn you on?

Convo 6

Seth5722: really now, but back to my question arn’t you a lil old for my lil pony?

girl17: arent you a lil old to be talking to 17 y/os?

Convo 7

man_with_soul: do u have msn

girl17: no

girl17: but if you get yim and sign onto my personal website for a fee i’ll put on a show for you!

man_with_soul: ok

Convo 8

Guest_8129: me2

Guest_8129:  18f

Guest_8129: hot f u

Guest_8129: 36c 

girl17: i dont understand you

girl17: all i am seeing is letters and numbers

girl17: can you use real WORDS please

~~~

ROFLMAO! 

Houston

we have a problem!  Code red!  We have an id-10-t situation! 

Can you believe some of the perverts that lurk in the chatrooms of cyberspace???  And the atrocious spelling???  And the sheer stupidity of these MORONS?!?

James told me I should log in to any random Googled chatroom with the name girl17 and expand on ‘her’ adventures.  According to him it’s so hilarious it’s a real stress and boredom reliever.  I’m not too sure if I can bring myself to let creepy freakshows ‘talk’ to me – or what they pass off for talking at least… 

But hey, if any of you folks feel the need to be a 17 year old girl from

Sweden called Pippi Longstockings with the pigtails

, be sure to log the funniest conversations and send them to me for sharing!

c u ppl l8t!

Oh a long, long, long rant this will be.

Sometime end of June the hubby and I bid on an item on eBay-

Malaysia

-(we have a joint account – c’mon!  Stop vomiting!) and what we thought would be a simple transaction stretched out to till NOW, the middle of August! 

Why?  Because the seller is a first rate moron.

Now mind you folks I am an old eBay hat, having had my account in-Australia-since last millennium and same for the hubby.  It was a little while back that we decided to join both accounts and our total of 69 positive feedbacks and zero negatives gives us a rating of 100%.

So we bid on said item, and we won the bid.  Protocol dictates that we contact the seller within 3 days to complete the transaction.  We did so.  Moron Seller replied 3 days later telling us to Paypal.  We tell Moron Seller that we don’t subscribe to Paypal (because they are shady thieving bastards with a shoddy track record) and if we could do a bank transfer instead.

Moron Seller then kept us waiting for a week before she replied our email stating that she doesn’t want to give us her account number but could we buy a bank draft in her name instead?

We agreed and did so but we told her that it would be easier for her to just allow us to transfer the money into her account.  Regardless, we bought the bank draft at RM5.00 and we sent it to her in-

Singapore

-(she listed the item in eBay-Malaysia-in Ringgit but her account and residence is in-Singapore) via registered mail.  We get fuck-all from her for another 9 days regarding the payment so we sent a chaser email asking her if she had died or vanished off the planet.

3 days after the chaser, she sent us a wishy washy reply about how the draft must have gotten lost in the mail and for us to send her another bank draft.  Our patience wearing thin, we canceled the 1^st draft at RM15.00, bought a 2^nd draft at another and this time we couriered it down to her.  But before we did so, we emailed her again asking her for her phone number so that the courier company can contact her in any case.  She replied 3 days later, refusing to do so stating that she “will be in to collect the draft”.

Obviously, she was not.

We emailed her yet again, telling her that we were sick and tired of her bullshit and lack of communication and that she needed to get her head out of her rear and go collect the draft and send us the item that we paid for, and we gave her a deadline of 5 days to do so before we go to the authorities to charge her with breach of contract – and regardless of how things turn out, she WILL DEFINITELY be getting negative feedback from us.

1 day shy of our deadline, Moron Seller FINALLY emails back saying that she received the payment and that she will be sending our item.  Mind you, we paid her RM6.00 for postage and do you know how much care she took to ensure that we received the item?  Snail mail.  With 2 stamps.  Which we only received 6 days AFTER that email of hers.  And the item was faulty.

So as per eBay protocol and true to our promise (as a seller you give feedback to the buyer upon receipt of payment, and as a buyer you give feedback upon receipt of item) we left her negative feedback.

Moron Seller then freaks out at the negative feedback and lodges a complaint with eBay on the grounds that hubby and I “cheated her with a defunct bank draft that she cannot cash in and that she wants us to return the item and therefore making the contract null and void and our negative feedback also null and void.”  Then she accuses us for “not knowing that this is an international transaction” and we should have “bought the bank draft in US$”. 

Hey I got news for you dumbass.  You listed the item in eBay-Malaysia-in Malaysian Ringgit.  When we asked you for the total sum of the item plus shipping, you told us the amount in Malaysian Ringgit.  You asked us to buy a bank draft in your name in Malaysian Ringgit.  And for crying out loud, if your bank refuses to accept the draft in Ringgit, go across the border – its free and its only 45 minutes (if you’re on the furthest end of your puny country) to get across the causeway and you can go to the first bank you see and cash it in there. 

It’s really funny that the dumb bitch has no idea who she’s playing fire with.  I didn’t do trade and tax law for a year and a half with my housemate for nothing you know.  We cheated her?  For a faulty item. We didn’t want to pay her? 2 bank drafts in her name – one which we posted by registered mail, the other with a door to door courier. We were stupid not to know it was an international transaction? How about listing items in your own country’s eBay and in your own currency?

We have proof of the full range of emails that we went through – inclusive of crossed referenced calculations of the time she took to reply every single one, the cost of our total incurred expenses due to her stupidity and pictures of the faulty item.  We have proof that real money was used in the buying of both bank drafts and real money was used in the sending of both drafts to her, and the real money that we’re loosing to cancel both drafts and send back her faulty item.  And of course with a solid case we’ve built you think we won’t threaten her with a very real lawsuit to claim back what we lost and more seeing that we had to suffer her lack of IQ and all the time we wasted and heartache endured?

You wanna play, bitch?  Bring it on.