I was attacked in the workplace.
We had a nickname for him.
Lee Kuan Fucking Yew.
He said he was old school when I first met him
So the name stuck.
Mr. Old School.
My weight increase began about the time I started working for Lee Kuan Fucking Yew.
Milk will do that to you.
But I wasn't going to admit that was the reason for my weight loss.
Disinformation is my name and deceiving is my game.
For two months he ran me into the ground.
My body responded by putting on weight.
He made me feel like a useless piece of shit.
I put on more weight.
If only he knew he’d be funding my new teeth.
Every crossroad and by road lead to Mr. Old School.
You only find one Lee Kuan Fucking Yew in a lifetime.
I should really dedicate this book to him.
Without him king hitting me in the workplace, I’d be $30 000 down and wouldn't have my new teeth.
Crowns aren't cheap.
Twenty-four of them, especially
And I needed money to buy them.
I knew my dentist was a greedy Macedonian cunt who wouldn't get the concept of pro bono work.
The sales rep was a Macedonian too, about my age, overweight, who drove a souped up V8.
He was an Australian born Maco unlike my dentist who was born in Macedonia.
I swear to God he was a delivery guy.
Delivering high grade speed around Perth.
What a perfect cover.
‘The slanty eyed cunt.’
He just didn’t like Lee Kuan Fucking Yew one bit.
He was a sales rep.
Over time I’d won his confidence.
A lovely man.
He warmed to me.
One Yugo to another, we were brothers.
And we had to stick up for ourselves.
‘Why do you let him stomp all over you?’ he asked one morning.
Have you heard about the expression of giving someone enough rope...
The penny dropped.
It was just a matter of time.
Finding the right moment.
Provoking Mr. Old School to act in way that so I could act in another way.
I just regret that I didn't take him to cleaners.
He always bragged about having seven houses, I wanted six of them.
But all I got was a driblet. know I sound ungrateful.
I just wasn't trying hard enough.
