It doesn’t really matter what a person do or don’t do in Singapore,
It’s just your voice,
It’s just your face,
In short-
It just boils down to whether we like you or not.
You want a job?
Sorry, we have too many resumes in our computers,
You know how we sort out resumes?
We look at your photographs,
And you know what- we laugh at some of your faces.
That woman- look at her face!
She looks so low-class!
And look at the way she projects herself,
Unlike me- so high-class,
So poised.
I will use my magic,
To make young pretty girls cry in the office.
You know something?
I have a fetish for seeing young little things cry.
It makes me feel like a man!
And of course, some of our daughters look at your resumes and laugh,
“Secure” in their positions,
With probably lower qualifications and street-smarts than some of these “prospective” employees,
This woman- masters har?
Most Singaporean women with masters and above can never get a high salary in Singapore’s private sector.
Unless you know what?
Unless you are us lor!
So highly educated and so idiotic,
Study so much for what?
You low-class girls think education can give you a leg-up in society?
Ha! Ha!
This employee,
Work so fast,
I don’t need high quality employees,
What I want-
Is submission and obedience.
You know what?
I want to make this girl earn a high hourly rate and a lot of money.
You know- men don’t like girls who earn more than them.
Then I can marry my girl to this boy.
Marriage has always been the way for harmony between different families,
And my girl likes this boy mah.
This person,
The face I want to slap,
Just ignore her lor,
Just leave her to die,
She sure cannot make it one.
You know who I am?
I am high-class, slim and polished,
And I pamper my little boys and girls,
My little boys and girls deserve the best.
I am-
One of the Singapore employers.
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