Some days begin in a scramble, some days begin with scrambled eggs, and scrumptious bacon.
- Should there be an age limit for viewing food pr0n?
I started the day lugging my bags down to the bus station as shifty eyes looked, sneering and pointing.
“I expect to see his silly mug and his ridiculously large backpack right beside the entry for overpacking in a dictionary “
was what they were wondering about whenever they stole a glance at me. They’ll then pretend to mind their own business whenever I glared back at them, expecting me to believe that they had been staring at the ground all along.
The buses didn’t help, neither did my idiocy for deciding to go to the airport during peak traffic hours. Lumbering suitcase in hand, towering backpack on tow, and laptop bag that kept sliding down my shoulder barely secured, bus drivers sniffed my presence and shook their heads, flailed their arms and wagged their torso simultaneously even before they open the hissy bus doors.
Then as I perked up upon hearing the familiar screeching of bus brakes, my phone rang,
“Hi, Mr. Lee, this is OCBC calling”
“I’m calling to confirm your new address, is there a 30 in front of Nanyang Link?”
“So there is a 30 in front of Nanyang Link?”
“Can you confirm that?”
“So are you a poly student or uni. student?”
“So is it at Nanyang Polytechnic?”
“Oh, so your school is NTU?”
“The NTU at Jurong West?”
“So it’s NTU not Nanyang Polytechnic?”
“Thank you very much, have a nice day, bye.”
The empty buses came by when I was on the phone, in plural because that’s what they always do when you don’t need them or when you can’t board them even though you’re fifteen minutes late and had been waiting for the past thirty minutes since it was impossible to lift a heavy suitcase while propping up a laptop bag which keeps sliding down your shoulder while reaching for your backpocket to get your ezlink card while holding the phone and straining your ears amidst the rumbling bus engines and its hissing doors.
Then a taxi came by,
“Ah-hah” I thought “Why hadn’t I thought of that?” as I flagged it and asked the driver to take me to Boonlay.
Thirty minutes, one wildride on a unfamiliar and very long traffic evading route that ended up splat into a mash of automobiles, and TEN FUCKING DOLLARS later, I ended up quite a distance away from Boonlay station and tugged my luggage pass hordes of indian laborers that reeks of coconut and macho, tanned musclemen who whispered to their even more tanned girlfriends,
“I bet you that dork is a foreigner, any man worth his testicles in gold and went through National Service while doing five hundred push ups per day wouldn’t be lugging at his luggage, he’ll be carrying them on their shoulders.”
“Indeed dear, and I bet you that his stupid mug and oversized luggage would appear right next to the dictionary entry for overpacking.”
My mood was so foul then, I was convinced that everyone on the streets were conspiring to make things worse for me.
Some way to begin a day.
And when I got to the station, I found out that my friends were plotting to send me off, and we ate Popeye’s Fried Chicken with Biscuits together, and I even got a pink monkey plushy necktie thingy, and the horrible day became a lot less horrible.
- It wasn’t my shaky hands I swear! The plane was shaky, if my hands were shaky there would be destructive inteference resulting in a clearer image right?
The next morning, I woke up to scrumptious bacon and scrambled eggs for breakfast during my flight, and suddenly the world seems like a wonderful place as I peer out of the window and see the nightlights of Kiev sprawling across, forming a cobweb of yellowish tungsten hue, with Scarlett Johansson and Penelope Cruz providing hawt girl on girl action in Vicky Cristiana Barcelona playing on the plane’s entertainment system.
Woody Allen is a fucking bastard, he probably gets a kick from directing hawt ladies to make out in front of me, and despite looking woodern and wrinkled, the fact that he probably banged Scarlett Johansson depresses me to no end.
Cardbo is made entirely of renewable materials and it runs on money, it's so green it makes your Prius looks like a Hummer
And amidst the carapaces of perished roaches, and centimeters of dust, cardbo arises! With sodium light beaming out of its cardbotic eyes, it surveys the surroundings. “7.82 m x 3.42m, it notes, and with signs of life aplenty, albeit lives twisted and distorted by the radiation overflowing from the elevated platform opposite.”
Cardbo notes the grimness of its current predicament, a preliminary scan of living organisms dwelling in this cesspool of filth and caffeine saturated atmosphere reveals notorious monstrosity like bipedals bouncing wombats, spur-footed duck billed platypus, and carapace shielded insectoids which presumably have acid-filled cavities. And then of course, it houses not one, but two hairless, odd-toed sapiens, an unique species that sits unchallenged at the zenith of the pyramid.
The box of Brand’s chicken essence would prove to be handy for patch jobs and crafting spare parts, but in times as such, one can never be too prepared. Not even when you’re a cardbotic cardbot which shoots death rays from your eyes and spew missiles from your armpits.
- Small bubble
“Procrastination is sweet while it last”, that’s what my sister had been preaching to me since uh…two weeks ago, and the conclusion. Procrastination is low in sugar, high in sweeteners, because for the past two weeks I’d been eating birthday cakes, drinking instant coffee, dollops of Nuttella, sachets of Milo all while procrastinating, if its sugar content was any higher, I would be at the hospital waiting to get a liver transplant while talking to my imaginary left foot that’d been amputated last week.
Diabetes is real scary, my condolences to anyone who’s close to anyone afflicted with it, and no, I’m not trying to rack up karmic credit points so that I’ll do better in exams.
The time bubble should’ve burst a few days ago, but I’ll take a page from banks around the world by denying any recession while frantically trying to find lenders to inject some liquidity into them using useless toxic assets as leverage, and I know that I’ll be alright that way, because the banks got bailed out in the end, with enough surplus to send executives to spas at Switzerland and paying out millions in promised bonus to bankers in Lamborghinis even though they’re pretty much at fault for this. So if things go as planned, I’ll just toil around for these few days, bringing as many chapters down with me as possible then I’ll wait for the school to bail me out and reward me with an A+ for failing spectacularly in the finals while those consistently hardworking, diligent students would get a mere B+ or A-; The godly Simons and Jefferies and other chem. Whizzes would of course accompany me at the podium.
Speaking about gods, I’m pretty sure that I saw a report about church attendance going up during this period, in my head. But, it seems pretty plausible because it’s easy to pick a pocket when people jostle out as soon as the sermon ends. (The wallet would be filled with overcharged credit cards though, and people will start believing again because surely it’s God that gave them karmic retribution for getting a credit card filled wallet while their wallet that actually have nickels in it got nicked. People would be clinging to religion and guns more tightly than ever.)
I once wrote “as likely as a man named Hussein becoming president of the United States” as an analogy, it was during the primaries, when Hilary Rodham Clinton, (Rodham sounds like some dildo brand) was the front runner and John McCain is a few months younger and a lot less bitter. The election was a yawn then, it wasn’t until the Obama’s speech on racism that propeled the election into fever status(for South East Asians at least), and people started jumping onto Obamawagon. A number of them who probably don’t know which party he’s from, and started weighing in their opinions. Their other knowledge on American politics? Bush sucks, which by now is something you learn right after memorizing the first 14 alphabets in pre-school.
(And no, Obama isn’t the panacea to all the wrongs in the world, Asian markets might have rebounded during Guy Fawkes Day, but it’s not a cusp on some upward spiral, and mind you he doesn’t get sworn in until January. The only upside is that if McCain-Palin was elected, markets worldwide would probably go into a free fall, except for the US market, because it’ll be as maverick as its president and veep elect then.) (Bush isn’t as evil as people says too, he’s just overwhelmed with the job, kind of like how some Taiwanese idols are overwhelmed beyond doing anything harder than posing for magazine covers, or an all too easy Sarah Palin jab.)
Even then, there’s always time for moist, delicious cake. Today happens to be my roommate’s birthday, being respectful about his privacy, I’ll refrain from posting his name, but I’ll be delighted to post pictures of him, which he took himself while camwhoring around with my camera. He’s like Jacky Cheung, but with dance moves, he even wears a glove on one of his hands, though it’s not sequined like Michael Jackson’s one, with legendary mastery in the art of talking cock that freshmen tremble in their knee upon his presence and sophomores who came into close proximity with him have trouble recalling his real name probably due to some neural damage from his vibes. So that’ll probably mean more cakes today!
- Great roommate, or greatest roommate ever? I’m going with the latter for now, because even a chimpanzee would be a great roommate when compared to that arse I had for a roomate last year
Updated my wordpress installation and tried a change of theme, yet to grasp how it works. The widget which shows the author as a cup of very green lime juice that says “hello, welcome to my blog”, it’s grating my nerves. It seems like my new theme deemed that a picture of a cup of lime juice might be more enticing than my real photo. The fact that it’s probably true, especially in the heat of the tropics is sending me into despair!
This is a wombat and a platypus, and in case you can’t discern between them, the wombat is a short-legged marsupial, and the platypus is an egg laying, lactating creature with venomous spurs on its hind (webbed) foot. And both of them make highly faithful pets.
Until I found out that they’re sleeping with other people. Bad times, very bad times indeed.
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I recall reading a post on one of my favorite anime blogs in which its writer was moaning about the painstaking and time consuming process of coming up with a blog post that’ll be good enough to be published. I scrolled past the whole post and scoffed at his seemingly overcomplicated writing process, “Why so serious? Isn’t blogging kind of like barfing where you’ll just type out whatever you feel like expelling from your system?”
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