It is Monday. Time almost 4pm. Yesterday papers are still waiting for me to be read. The only section I read is Dear Thelma which I often read before I ran off to church. Sort of take a good look (and laughs) at some of the peoples’ follies and then, I have something bad to confess at mass. Like Oh Lord, I had been bad because I laughed at others who let their other heads and mouths rule their lifes..
We have The News Straits Times and The Sunday Star delivered to us on weekends and only The Star on weekdays.
The papers pile up real fast, contributing to lots of recycling money for my neighbour and my part-time helper. The guy who delivered the newspaper is a nice Indian man who wore his Sunday best when he goes dating. So, it is nice to contribute business for him to belanja the sweet lass he dates.
Why are some of the papers remained untouched? You tell me.