I live in a normally quite neighbourhood. It hasn’t been normal since the property next door was purchased early last year. The new owners haven’t moved in, but a battalion of construction workers representing the United Nations has been encamped since last April.
The structure of the house they’re building is almost complete. Too complete in fact, that they have been going berserk with jackhammers trying to trim it down, it seems. The jackhammers have been at it since 9am this morning, and it is severely curtailing my ability to work.
(Contractors in Singapore are renowned for their ineptitude. We had one that was rebuilding the gate, and he put in a mail slot into the wall without building a way to get the letters out, and only realised it when I asked why he was building a time capsule).
On top of the noise irritation, it is a mumfucking ugly house. It is humunganimous! Set on 50,000 sq ft of prime land and taking up most of it. It has faux roman columns, faux Georgian facade, faux hedgerow fence, and you know what type of people would design and build a house like that: Indonesian-Chinese with faux sense of style. They’ve been everywhere actually. There’s another 50K sq ft property on the other side of my house which was purchased by one of these Indon Dongs, and they split the property into two, built two identical houses which look like the set of Gone With The Wind, live in one of them, and are still trying to lease out the other after a decade.
Go back to Indonesssya! Megawati loves you! Promise you they won’t kill Chinese, even if you like to flash your wealth and exploit the poor. Go back!
Eh? The hammering’s stopped. Thank God for the many tea-breaks in the Singapore work day. (Apparently the tea break saved lives when Nichol Highway collapsed, ya know?)
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