Please Read This.

I plead of you, to read this. No corny one-liners from me this time.

1. A confessional letter from Otto Fong
2. Why it was removed

Via Fridae.com .

Good Bitch. Bad Bitch.

The elevator doors were about to close when a K-Box-loving Chinese couple sneaked in. The youfellasareoverweight buzzer stung like tinnitus would, but the Chinese couple remained stationary in their spot as though it was elevator music.

Are you waiting to lose weight? A voice hissed from behind.

Quite promptly without uttering a word, the Chinese couple stepped out of the elevator. And yes, that voice was mine.

I am a bitch and I make no apologies for being one. My words have cut many, mostly intentional with definite satisfaction enjoyed, although sometimes… well let’s just say I will take the words back if I could. In any case, I praise myself to ALWAYS stabbing one in the front, and never in the back. In the first place, I’m quite certain hurt by intent is a sin classified in one of the many pages of the Bible anyway, so I may as well do it with style. Like being an assassin in Prada shoes. And on the account that I don’t bite unless provoked, I like to think myself as a Good Bitch.

Being a lesbian and working in the advertising industry is a double whammy.  On my non-sticky hand, the advertising industry is infested with ambitious, loud, opinionated and very scheming people ready to take you down if you’re not careful. On my other sticky hand, lesbians are basically women on 6th gear PMS with more insecurities in a day than a pregnant woman with hormonal imbalance in 9 months. No wonder my bitchiness is aggravated; I can take the amount of knives on my back to NTUC FairPrice supermarket and sell in the Kitchen Appliances section.

I’m known to be extremely confrontational if I hear of anyone bitching about me. If I had a full-page-full-color ad on The Straits Times, it would say:

NOTICE
The Advertiser, Pat Law, would like to express her condolences, to the parents of the pathetic fools who were quoted by various third parties on the following statements.

• Oh, I heard Pat intends to leave the company soon.
  No, you stupid young punk. I thought you were the one sick of not being promoted to an Account Manager and wanted to leave? Unlike you, I recognize the ramifications of spreading such rumour, and I choose not to divulge in the same source you decided to spread this rumour with. I know it is not within your capacity to see the bigger picture, but have you ever wondered what the implications are, if my boss is to hear of such fallacious rumour? He might have a contingency plan and it would be shitty to be replaced over a rumour that’s completely untrue. I love my company, my clients and my colleagues. Now, I can’t say the same for you.
• Oh, guess what? Pat has joined XXX!
  Firstly, I applaud you for having TWICE broadcasted the agencies of which I’ve joined. I tried to be understanding the first time you did so. Really, I tried. I mean, you’re severely obese and your make-up reminds me of Marilyn Manson (easy on the blue eyeshadow, sweetheart, it doesn’t make you look slimmer), so I figured you must be an extremely lonely person. It doesn’t help that your idea of a conversation was to bitch about your own friend to a table of 10.

  The second time you did so, rather speedily I must add (considering that it was barely 72 hours since I resigned), I decided that there wasn’t a point being gracious to an uncivilized pig anymore. The Christmas email was witty wasn’t it? I must say it was the best email I’ve crafted in the entire year! Just in case you’re wondering, yes I did BCC some rather important people from the ad industry. And no, I’ll like to keep you guessing who they are. You’re just plain lucky I didn’t BCC your own boss. I’m brutal, but not evil.

• Pat hit on me!
  I may say “Will you light up my life, please?” to the whatsherface waitress when I need a smoke, and ONLY because I’ve lost my lighter yet again, but erm, no, it is not in my nature to make the first move. Just because I’m able to hold a decent conversation beyond “hi, intro pls” does not mean I’m hitting on you. I am just having a conversation. The same kind I would have with the kopi boy who makes my kopi-o-zero each morning. And please, don’t make it sound as devastating as someone hitting you. Get a grip. Here’s my advice to you: Your ego should never be bigger than your success and credibility. For now, I think it should be non-existent.

Boy is this blog entry therapeutic. I’m sure you have been back stabbed one time or another before like I have, by a cowardice Bad Bitch. What was it and how did you deal with it? I’m interested to know how many stood up for themselves.