Saturday, September 27, 2008
There. The rant about work that I've been saving up for a special occasion is spilling forth today! Pop the champagne and put on some funky beat, DJ!Time to fish out you your best sardonic grin and wear it for all its worth. And nows your cue to say "I told you so~ -ouch!!!- what's that for?".
What's with the last part of that sentence? Hold that thought.
*Knocks your teeth out with a sledgehammer*
There. Now you know.
I said you could say it but I didn't swear on my granny's grave I won't do anything about that smirking and not to forget ugly slob that you've got on your shoulder.
I meant your head, you doofus.
Reader bashing aside, I've really endured enough depressing repetitions over the past 1 year and a few miserable months to finally say, "I've had it!!!"
And the final straw was...
When an email that its way to my handler regarding the National Education tour I was to participated the next day and he chance upon something interesting he would liked to share with me.
The instruction he interpreted and in turn relayed to me pretty much hung a smile on my face. It states though I have to attend in civilian clothings which meant that I had to drag around my pair of heavy safety boots and a bag bulging with my overalls.
However, I could just for that day, against the standing policy which prohibits coming to work in civilian clothings, turn up in them without having to saddle myself with cumbersome burden!
Just another cog in the grease smeared clockwork of the organisation.
Did he like farted?!
Oh wow! He's an unique snowflake afterall!
That next day came and I happily came to work in civilian clothings. Only to have the superior of my handler waltz right up to me and delivered my verbal chastisement with a generous peppering of saliva.
Spraying so much saliva in one serving is no mean feat, people. Don't try that at home. Or anywhere else for that matter.
Sigh.
Anyway, in its distilled form, the above mentioned example is just another clone of the day to day story of my carreer life.
1)Some git who outranks me will dish out some some partial or fucked up instruction
2)I will be a good little soldier boy and do as I'm told.
3)The problem sown by that fucked up instruction dispensed earlier on will come home to roost in time.
4)The problem will surface.
5)I will get fucked, though it isn't mind fault to begin with.
Multiply the above situation by the 2 years already spent in the force and the 5 remaining ones.
And I've had 560 workdays of generous tongue lashing so far and I'll be getting another 1300 more of it, before shaving off leaves and public holidays that is. Wohoo!
Tell me how do I not love my work?
FUNKED IT ALL UP ON 1:03:00 AM
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Though I could be anywhere near bearing the tag 'frequent patron of Singapore's nightlife', this bloke here still moves to the groove ever once so often. Especially since the company to get sloshed with was just about right.
Want to go to bed with me? Wuhahaha!
I danced!? Twitch is a better word for it I supposed. Provided anyone was sober enough to notice. =p
So there I was finding myself in the company of Wanyi, Eliz and all their assorted collection of friends from all manners of educational institutions queuing up for entry into Double O last Saturday night.
Scene of the crime.
Core accomplice.
Introducing from grinning, silly and to the handsome, me, Eliz and Phyo (Not a typo.).
The rest of you people shoo! Just me and Lizzie okay! Hahahaha...
Chopped (UV chop on the arm. Cool or what!?) and ready to be blasted off into the throng of prematuredly drunk and overly sweaty club goers like a space monkey awaiting certain gruesome death, we waded and squeezed between groups of crowd goers to the bar.
Wow! They got a life band there which sang my all time favorite, "Torn"!
Poor bloke started getting humiliated for his birthday very early that evening. His friend made random strangers kiss him while dragging him around in a blindfold! And I kissed him!
Like every other recountal that involves tons of booze, we drank. And we drank. And when we thought we couldn't stomach another drop of liver poison without doing a damn fine impersonation of our iconic Merlion right there on the spot, we drank some more.
I wanna drink from their straws! LOL!
Soak it up you git!
Infused with brazen courage, a welcomed side effect of having one's blood teeming with alcohol and having whatever little sense we had in the first place pillage by them, we broke ranks and hit the dance floor. Joining the fray, we did the Saturday Night Fever, the Robot and all the the delirious shite you'll expect from a bunch of drunkards.
Filled with people suffering from spasms in both their upper and lower limbs.
Oooh, what senseless fun it was!
The intermission between each bout of embarrassing dancing was spent struggling against the human tide, shooving our way out and back for each smoke/puke break. Easing into the habit after numerous such expeditions into the calm and still open air where one could puke and reflect on the lost of their earlier meals over a smoke, it was inevitable someone from the 19 strong group would suggest hopping over to O bar. And ultimately, back to Double O again.
Dom, Jianghao and me!
Don't they look like they belong to each other?
This loving couple never fail to crack me up.
To me it was never different. Same drunk bunch of friends, same blaring music and same kinda human congestion. A word of wisdom - whatever differences however stark matter little to people who couldn't really walk in a straight line without ending up in a tangle of their own limbs.
Roaming around the joint like we owned it, we had a little drink here and shook a little booty there, all the while running into familiar faces. For me, Ronnie seems to be there around every turn while a few more airforce guys turn up at random spots around and about. The last person I thought I would run into was none other Wilfred, a friend as well as a colleague, who happened to be down with flu the day before, was found at the scene. Bad puppy, bad!
Caught on camera! Nice finger!
Anyway looking the entire club night as a whole, the two distinctive incidents stood out above the rest with startling clarity akin to bloated corpses floating in a river are:
1) A fight almost found its way to me when I was technically caught chatting with a lady in the group who unfortunately had a boyfriend reeking of both choking smell of liquor as well as unbearable possessiveness.
The appetizer came in the form of him walking up to the chatting silhouettes of me and that lady with a storm brewing on his face.
Next comes the main course as I shifted my focus to the impending disaster, trying the tried-and-proven method of diffusing the possible troublesome situation with small talk. The results? Getting snubbed with gruff answers overlay with a tone seething anger.
Finally comes the desert as my harmlessly thrown joke of "Wah you sound so hostile, I think you might hit me. Relax leh." was answered with a "Maybe.".
What the fuck.
Though I was afterward assured that his infuriating attitude is just a known result of his intoxication, I was nonetheless offended. If he so much as in lift a hand against me, I bet my sizable arse I'll show him that I'm indeed the son of my dad.
For those who knows my dad, you'll catch the drift. *Wink*
I don't even know what's this suppose to mean but we were high and we didn't care!
Ooh here's one with Wai Kian at the right having his tofu eaten by Dom!
WAKE UP!!!
Too drunk too humorous.
2) I had a near picked-up encounter with a gorgeous lady at the club. Before you wear that skeptical frown as if it was called for, I admit I was high but the mere study of the beauty before me jolted me back from Planet Volka.
With a half filled pitcher of alcohol in my care, I couldn't join the rest of the kakis for a breather outside. So standing by the side of the bar, a ravishing lady in her early twenties came over and asked "Mind if I steal a straw from you?".
"Sure, I don't mind." came naturally to my lips before I even register what was going on.
Seeing that her glass was filled with murky grayish stuff, I couldn't help but asked "What's that you're drinking?".
A drink which I heard earned its name by dropping their owners stone dead wormed its way into her reply as she said "This? Its the Graveyard.".
Only after letting out an admiring "Wah.." in response to her brave choice of drink did it struck me that why did she have to steal a straw from my pitcher when she was at the bar with serviettes and straws well within her reach. Also, doesn't drinking from a straw pushes you over the edge of consciousness faster, especially drinking such a potent mix?
Alone in the dark with some pretty chick? Anything could happen. But nothing did. LOL!
Only then did I realised that the seemingly harmless question was an subtle excuse to initiate conversation with me and - you'd never have guessed what moronic thing I did next - I walked off.
WHAT THE FUCK!?!
My stomach was protesting dangerously to all my deposits and I didn't really feel like making an idiot outta myself since I'm already neck deep into the bottle.
But if you ask me, I'd say that deep down, somebody is a shy fuck who doesn't believe that anyone that pretty would wanna hook up with him. That's my reckoning.
Like the rest of you, I was thinking why would she possibly want to chat with me since there's like a ton of better looking guys out there? Perhaps it was just a hallucination conjured up by a mind saturated with alcohol.
Which unfortunately wasn't the truth as I return much later in the company of my friends to the sight of the same siren dancing a slow sensual dance, to the pleasure of some guy whom I think was in her company before.
Another "What The Fuck" on the rocks please.
Two men down! MEDIC!
All in all, it was a spectacular night out. Got to know myself a couple of pleasant folks like Eliz's boyfriend Jiang Hao and both hers and Wanyi's friends, Wei Kian and Phyo (Still not a typo.). And just for kickers, I didn't drink till I puke, much less till I drop.
I'm so proud of myself I would wrench my arm out of its socket to pat myself on the back.
FUNKED IT ALL UP ON 9:37:00 AM
Monday, September 08, 2008
If you think I'm one of those rootless, not to forget unfilial bastards that treats his family with about as much care, love and concern as one would treat a piece of cheese and spits contemptuously in the face of those goody-two-shoes whenever they try to brainwash me with their family love bullshite, you're probably not far from the mark.Ironically, despite my apparent lack of anything resembling love for my family, I spent a precious Saturday with my Mum, Sister and her boyfriend.
Don't gape. It makes you look dumber than you already are. If that's altogether possible at all. *Throws a disarmingly winsome smile and scatters your mounting anger and indignation.
The day to ride the Singapore Flyer began like most of the other days in this straggling quarter of the year.
Wet.
Albeit I was filled with more encouragement to seek out the warm embrace of my soft bed than to actually head out into the sodden cold, I grudgingly made my way out.
In part, I'll have to admit, was to rid myself of my mum incessant nagging, no matter how little I'll relieved myself of, but still in part to fulfill a promise made by a silly son to his sillier mother.
Having bought the tickets weeks before from a neighboring Comunity Centre, we wade without an inkling of a clue amongst looming forest of HDB flats in the pouring rain. More of sheer luck than following directions of a multitude of strangers, we finally stumbled upon the throng awaiting under a void deck just in time to board the bus.
A short nap and an abrupt halt later, I was rudely awaken to find myself at the Singapore Flyer. Again. But what the heck. Its the company that matters, isn't it?.
With a overly generous half of a whole hour thrust into our laps before the our Singapore Flyer ride actually takes flight, our group fragmented back to its make up of families. Which kinda left me in the company of my mum to mill about the premises, taking many a touristic go at my camera here and there.
She has aged very graciously if you ask me.
I look frazzled!
Abit too patriotic le ba? Orchids and Singapore flag.
Time gave us the slip whilst we were taking turns posing for shorts that'll even make tourists roll over in laughter, all the time oblivious to the fact despite the approaching of the stated hour, my sister and her boyfriend was nowhere in sight.
Just when that particular oversight finally dawned on us at the instant hollering for assembly pierce the disharmonious murmurings of the crowd and anxiety hit us in fully in the face that, as though on cue, my sister and her boyfriend appeared around the bend, slightly flustered and very drenched.
Akin to a flock sheep, we were hustled into the glass doors that begins our journey around the Singapore Flyer. Literally.
Scores of people! Better not fart or casualties will skyrocket!
Impressive artsy shite!
Buffeted by intermitten wind accompanied with blobs of good old fat rain, we dashed into the dry confines of the cabin and await the the 35 minute accend and subsequent decent of the ride that has become a must-try for every country loving Singaporean.
Here comes the ride and there goes nothing!
Don't worry. They've got you. 'Cept I've loosen a few strings here and there...
Inside the cylinder of a slow moving washing machine =)
Rising clear of the 2nd story of the complex which surmounts as well as supports the wheel, the sight that greeted us exceeded even my greatest disappointment.
View? What view?
Another obscured look at the Esplanade area.
Everwhere we turned we were greeted by Singapore's architectural beauty enshrouded by a curtain of gray bleakness, siphoning the colours and splendor out of the otherwise picturesque sight, rendering what we saw rude embalms of their true self.
The higher we soared, the bigger the chunks of excitement disappointment bitten off us. Taking a ride in the day has already bereft us of our skyline's true beauty, which even a country bumpkin like you would know (You look cute when you're pissed. I'm so gonna get away with my insult!), which is only revealed at night.
And kicking our misery up an extra notch was that not only that did we were not able to see even the daylight watered down version of the city's grandeur, we were not able to see much shite at all!
Hung up so high with escape but nigh, we did what every other passenger did. We had fun with our cameras!
Caught sneaking a bite.
Me and my mum. Looks more like we're siblings right?
All 'cept me.
A loving couple.
Not photoshopped one okay! My mum was a beauty. Was is the word. Now she's just plain old mum.
Rain or shine, this partying kids don't give a shite. One for the little guys!
As though going around on the Singapore Flyer did turned the weather around as well, the rain that stalked whenever shelter eludes our sight since that very morning so far suddenly let up, thwarting the heaven's plan of turning our little dot of a country into the next Atlantis.
Go.
Going.
Gone!
With the tightening of God's leaky faucet, the beauty that has lurked in the background was unleashed, struck the crowd in full force sending those armed with flashing and whizzing image grabbing gizmo into a frantic but short lived snapping frenzy.
Someone call the NEA!
An accidentally picture with much of the Singapore skyline in the backgrounds and the models for future Marina development in the foreground. All in all it was an artistic mistake!
Exiting the stuffy cabin and into the sullen mist which remained of the downpour did little to mire the cheery mood of my Mum as she made her way happily across to the exit. Like a little girl with a birthday wish which did came true, a smile lit her face for the rest of the day.
Come right in and buy stuff you don't want for prices you won't wanna pay!
Pole dancing?
Where's my mum?!
All that was left of the outing was dinner which was included in the package and came in the form of small food coupons. Perhaps we embraced our Singapore culture a bit too vehemently, or maybe whipped into haste by the cold and hunger, we tore free of the coagulating crowd clogging the passageway out and sped towards the 2nd Popeye in the entire miserable country!
Don't ask where's your spinach. Its not funny. Really.
My appetizer.
They say that hunger is the best sauce, I'd add that its best when served cold on piping hot meals. The meal vanished quickly between each huge chomp of the chicken, gobbles of its signature mash potato and swallow of their soft warm bread.
Mmm mmm!
BLEAH YOU BACK!
You call that making a face?! Pft!
Feeling apparent bliss which most thought was from the satisfaction evoked by our sumptious dinner which was actually the result of the bodies' blood rushing to digest a heavy meal leaving the brain with little blood and even lesser oxygen.
Sorry for popping your bubbles so blatantly.
With a vacant minded smile of contentment hung on faces, we sat dreamily at the assembly point awaiting for the bus to pick us up and send us home after a charming day with my family.
But not before they spent $10 just to take a photo on these Harley babies.
FUNKED IT ALL UP ON 5:54:00 PM