Monday, 2 November 2009

eno

was stuffed after a nice buffet dinner at m-hotel and discovered the joys of lime flavoured eno. i nearly forgot how much i liked it as a kid. i remember i used to eat the damn thing without even dissolving it in water and it amused me no end to let out disgustingly loud belches in the middle of conversations. the little joys in life =)

Wednesday, 28 October 2009

how much pasta can you eat in a month?

went for dinner at Modesto's yesterday since there was a one-for-one pasta deal. at the end of the meal, we received the following:

1) a one-for-one dining coupon at Modesto's Elizabeth

2) 7 discount coupons to EACH Modesto's outlet

this brings the total coupon tally to TWENTY-TWO. and all of them expire at the end of Nov. attractive as the discount coupons are (50%), i seriously don't think i can subsist on pasta-pizza-and-nothing-else for the rest of the month.

any takers for the coupons?

Sunday, 25 October 2009

revival (for lack of a better title)

it's been exactly one and a half years. many things have changed, but one thing (inter alia, hurhur) remains - the feeling that i need to and want to write something that i get as i sit in front of my laptop at 2am in the morning. well, sometimes, 2pm in the afternoon, like now.

to set some benchmarks, i don't intend to record all the minutia of my rather mundane life (no thanks to getting only $500 a month from you-know-who). but rather, i would like to think thi is kinda like a scribble board where i jot down random thoughts.

so here's my random thought of the day.

was at the night safari last night with D, Y and J. everytime we reached an enclosure, we had to squint damn blardy hard to spot the animal that was supposed to be inside. this was primarily because the enclosure was damn blardy dark. in fact, the entire park was damn blardy dark. i guess it's to emphasise the point that it's a night safari after all. but really, when it's so damn blardy dark, you can hardly see shit.

so after going past numerous enclosures where it was so blardy dark we couldn't see shit, we came to the conclusion that even if there wasn't really an animal inside the enclosure, we wouldn't know. and we felt kinda cheated. mind you, we paid good money (all of $22) for it.

i was also wondering about the point of the night safari. one would think that it's to exhibit nocturnal animals. granted that there were some nocturnal animals, but we were mostly looking at normal animals... in the dark. that means to say, most of them were sleeping. so yes, i'm presently very puzzled about the point of the night safari.

on a related note, J's primary grouse must be the ang-moh couple who chap-ed our queue and when told that the starting point of the queue was about 400m behind us, pretended that they were "only asking a question". and when J pointed out that they could have asked us for permission first, they pretended they didn't know how to speak English. brilliant. OH. and they proceeded to BUY tram tickets.

on an un-related note, the butter crabs at the tze-char place at casuarina are damn blardy good and cheap.

Wednesday, 30 April 2008

memories

it's peculiar how he never noticed it - the photo album that sat on the shelf which he walked past everyday. but in that single inexplicable moment, it caught his attention. faced with an afternoon ahead with little to do, he reached for it on the topmost shelf where he usually placed all the books that were due for that garage sale sometime in the future.

he sat down at his study desk. a steaming mug of coffee on one side, a reading lamp on the other, the dusty photo album in front of him. he made himself comfortable in the arm chair and flipped open the front cover, gingerly, afraid to use any more force than necessary. it was, after all, a very old album.

he had barely laid his eyes on the first photo when the shrill ring of his cell-phone pierced the air. "who the hell could it be", he cursed under his breath. meticulously, he returned the cover of the album and pushed his chair back.

he picked up his phone from the dresser next to his bed, took a look at the number displayed and cursed - again. "fuck, i'm supposed to be on vacation. these bastards just won't leave me alone."

"yes Mr Smith?" he said in his most obedient voice. much as he would like to, he couldn't possibly demonstrate his displeasure with his boss could he.

"i need you to come in RIGHT NOW! the auditors discovered two days ago that Jamerson's had some undeclared assets and are threatening to liquidate the company. i need you in my office NOW!"

"but..." but i'm on vacation. no cancel that, i NEED my vacation because i have been pulling crazy 80 hour weeks for the past month and i need a break. that's what he felt like telling his boss. it was just as well he didn't say it because he never got a chance to complete his sentence.

"BUT WHAT??!!"

he flinched. he hated it when people shouted at him, especially over the phone. it was as if being separated by electro-magnetic waves made it necessary to assume that the person on the other end of the receiver was deaf.

"nothing Mr Smith. i'll be in by..." he looked at the clock on his dresser. it read 2.05pm. "two-thirty."

click. that was it. no good-bye, no see you soon. just a click. "fucking bastard." he cursed for the third time that afternoon and slammed the receiver back onto the holder. heaving a sigh of resignation, he began to get dressed, feverishly hoping that he would make it back to the office by 2.30pm.

a sudden, loud noise behind him made him jump around. the coffee mug had been tipped over, the contents of the mug splashed all over the old, dusty photo album, some of it dripping onto the expensive Persian carpet underneath his desk. Lucy, sitting on her hind legs, stared at him innocently through those emerald green eyes of her.

"oh man, not now..." he had just bought the carpet last week. he hastily grabbed a couple of tissues and attempted to stop the coffee from dripping onto his latest expensive acquisition, all the while glaring vehemently at his recalcitrant pet.

he took a quick glance at his Tag-Heuer watch, a present to himself after he received his first bonus from work. "i really don't have time for this shit."

he tugged the carpet out from under the desk, rolled it up neatly, and then carefully placed it against the wall, promising himself that he would send it to the dry-cleaners as soon as he could.

picking up the coffee soaked photo album from the desk, he threw it into the waste-paper basket conveniently placed next to his desk.

without a second thought, he grabbed his wallet, car keys and Blackberry from the dresser, dashed out of the house, and slammed the door behind him. shut.