blow ur candles

summary of the past weekend's hoops. got scratched so many times, i think i got mistaken for a scratching post.

quite a number on my face alone. 2 on the forehead, 1 on each cheek and 1 on the chin.
long 1 on the back of my hand, 3 on my forearms.
im gonna be Kenshi from Samurai X in no time, the way things are going.
or an exhibit at Ripley's Believe it or not musuem.

pls trim your bloody nails!
or at least go deface somebody else!

there's a few older people walkin around now.
garry last thurs
ed last fri
bai last sat
lualua yesterday.

gosh that's quite a few dinners. lualua of course deserves nothing more den a size 9 king's safety boot up his now reduced ass, thanks no doubt to popping a dozen bottles of extrim.

happy birthday!

splat

some people have all the luck.
i, for one tho, happen to have none of it.
or maybe its so miniscule a serving that's not even a teaspoon's worth.

spent the weekend with roly poly sherwyn. him with the faux rolling qiao se ang moh slang that's finally starting to sound local once more. got myself a nice new tee, which actually bears a striking resemblance to pajamas, in his opinion. oh well, it looks neat to me. wouldn't have got it otherwise, wud i? so now i've got school shoes to go along with pajamas. sleepover anyone?

walkin along the mrt platform, waiting for the train, a passing glance at the doors made me notice a white spot on my shoulder. a closer inspection, and what have i got? a 20 cent sized dollop of bird shit.

lovely.

my very exclusive, very stylo tee, kenna bombed. alright, maybe it wasn't that exclusive, or that stylo, but then again, no tee deserves to be decorated with a blob of green-white gooey gunk right? the black tee also provided a very nice contrast with the white of the shit.

piang, how in the world can some1 get bombed in a shoppin district, of all places?

of course, that wasn't the end of my woes. thinkin the offending material was all dried up, i tried to flick it away with my fingers. and of course, with the less-than-a-teaspoon worth of luck that i possess, the shit was only half dried. shit on tee, and shit on fingers.

didn't have any tissue with me, so i tried to clean myself as best as i could with some wrappers in my pocket. and after i was done, realised that there were no dustbins in sight. reckon that no1 would willingly put shitty scraps of paper in his pockets, but then, with no recourse in sight, wat was 1 to do?

i normally buy a bottled drink on the train ride home, as its a rather long journey, wat with my home being located at the extreme end of singapore. with no places to dispose of the shit, i emptied the entire bottle, so i cud throw the scraps inside. consequently, the journey home was a bladder-filled 1.

prolonged exposure to bird gunk is supposed to cause some illness up there, isn't it?
so if i happen to spew a bit more gibberish nonsense than usual these days, pls pardon me.

the air up there

hands up those who think im a dick.

alrighty, im impressed. put down your hands already.

im quite a scatterbrain, i must say. i lose stuff like no other, and the general consensus is that of me being a cock. of course, i beg to differ. i am a totally normal 1.74m-going-on-1.8m 21-goin-on-22 male human. not a proud crowing feathered specimen that's gonna feature in the poultry section eventually.

im absolutely spewing nonsense, but oh well.

scatterbrained? maybe, but i dun think im gonna try changing that anytime soon. or maybe just the losing stuff part. on the contrary, i wish i was a total airhead at times.

maybe i'll be jogging along the shoreline in a tight red pair of trunks in slow-mo, plastic float in hand, lookin so very serious. waiting for the next damsel to get herself in a spot of distress, after which i'd extricate her out of the mess, away from the big bad waves.

or maybe i'll be prancing around in a itsy bitsy, teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini, that i wore for the 1st time today. and the only thing im mullin over is whether that cute blue eyed boy with the floppy sandy hair standing by the hot dog stand noticed my new do.

just be a complete bimbo. to not think so much.
dun like to think too much, nor 2nd guess.
very taxing on the brain cells.
no shades of grey please.

maybe i'll just pop into a time machine and go back to the wuxia period.

later!

huff puff

back from work. or rather, back from duty. again!

im a bum. no two ways about it. bum with capital B, U, and M. some time ago, the exact day of which has totally eluded me since, all thanks to a very obvious lack of gray matter, i was as usual bumming around after dinner. i muz have ate quite abit, cos i'd promised myself to go for a little run.

i also remember putting it off constantly.
hmm... wait awhile, gotta let it digest. dun want any stitches to break the incredible run im gonna make later.
hmm... wonder wats on tv...
hmm... maybe later, when the traffic's lighter.

and then it rained. and then i grinned.
alamak, rain liao, wat to do??! bobian la, run some other time!

sadly the rain lasted for all of 5mins, so in the end i hauled my sorry, gargantuan backside downstairs for a very incredible run with absolutely no running high experienced at any point of time.

chiong ah ah bui!

dum dadum dadum

aiyoyo, just the fact that i post so much over the past few days would prolly let u have at least an inkling of how im feeling right now. which is bored.

just realised that my ballin mates have animal nicks.

there's bear, whose mum actually calls him that, and who does not, in any fathomable way, bear any semblance at all to the bellowing creature. himself being a bag of chopsticks, he'd alwas laugh at our tyres.

then there's worm, who got it plainly cos his chinese name is worm man. and who absolutely is not as thin or stringy as a worm.

if i were to go by any other name other den my own, i have no doubt wat its gonna be, besides all members of the bean family. its gotta be oink bloody oink pig.

i just totally loath running. and i have never experienced wat people coin as runners' high. supposedly, its a feeling of light-headed euphoria u derive after clockin a considerable amount of miles. just on this high alone, ur supposed to be able to go on as if u've just started out, only more fresh.

i say its all hogwash. prolly the light-headedness is just plain old giddiness. or maybe i haven't run long enough.

they're both not free to hoop, and hoops is just about the best way for me to keep my ballooning girth in check. dun think i can cut down too much on eating, so i do hope they find some time soon.

040605

woke at 6.
took cab.
drank milo.
met frens.
drank milo.

me = cute choy.
26 yo 16yo
15yo 20 yo.
ran all over.
realised GPS set was total crap.
ate biscuits.
realised GPS set was total crap.

got feet wet.
ran all over.
realised GPS set was total crap.
got a free bottle.

got mistaken for char kuay teow boy.
feet still wet.
drank milo.
no more coffee.

ang moh: shattered. wet.
hokkien: cui. tam.

feet prolly growing mushrooms.
cant sleep.
waiting for ball.
ang moh: pls dun rain.
hokkien: ti kong mai loh hor ah.

fish chicken and ladies' fingers

and so i bid farewell to me mates, who by now should have unpacked their luggage, changed into the grubby PT shorts and started on the grumbling barring any logistical hiccups that are all too common within the organisation.

wat sorta curry might they encounter this time round? apple or broccoli? shucks wish i was there with them.

woke at 5 today to get to the safsa crap. had to be at changi naval base at 8, or so the enciks said. only realised wat was happenin today at the actual venue, turned out to be this inter-formation meet. RSAF 2 for me. saw some old faces frm sec school and AFS. sec sch got 2nd in the 400; AFS won the 10K.

didn't take part eventually, all thanks once again to goldibars and silver crabs. all along, i was informed that it was the 100 for me, but it was upon registering that i learnt that it was in actuality the 200 that had my name scribbled in. which happened yesterday.

no milo truck somemore.

didn't hit like a sledgehammer would, nor did i felt like the antagonist in some qin tian pi li Ch 8 drama, but i felt peeved nonetheless. totally wrong feelin u might suppose, seeing how i've been ranting on and on abt how i utterly did not want to participate. should have been pleased as punch that i got away in fact. guess i wanted to test myself ba. seeing how the results panned out, i just, just might sneak in a good finish.

goldibars was telllin me in some flowery words like legality issues prevented them from letting me finish the race, and go off to brunei the next day, and how it was of utmost importance that i should turn up. and how getting a replacement just wouldn't cut it, cos everything was all settled, and how mighty darn impossible it is to change a simple NRIC.

and they end up tellin me the wrong stuff. me showing up on the wrong day, and how the registration just shrugged it off almost nonchalantly.

to think they've been droning on and on for next to eternity abt just how important it is to disseminate relevant information to all levels, and yada yada.

sheesh.

if it was some common peasant NSF with the blooper, i'd bet my last dollar that he'd get a handful of extras, after a lecturing by the same goldibars/crabbies on how oh-so-important it is to get your bloody info right. reckon they'll just play a round of taiji and say how some glitch happened along the way, and wave it off.

its just pulling-hair-out frustrating, how such crap can happen, tho i wud restrain meself frm strainin my follicles any further, seeing how taxed they are as it is.

because of goldibars/crabbies, im in SG while my mates are savoring their curry.

on your mark...

back from duty. prolly will be doing alot more this month.

shudda been on the kooky C-130 tmr morning, if not for the wonderful antics of dem goldibars. as it is now, i'll be marooned in the little red dot while yy and gl scoot off to curryland. instead i'll be finding my way to some undetermined location, preppin myself to eat dust.

will be doin the century waddle tmr. didn't get to swipe ed's spikes, and it's been ages since i last seen mine. actually, even if i'd managed to get my shaking hands on a pair, i dun stand even a shred of chance. u need time to get accustomed to having a bed of nails under yr feet, and i haven't slipped into a pair of those for the better part of a decade. wat's more, ah fat wasn't even a sprinter to begin with.

definitely gonna get creamed. only variable is the magnitude of the malu-ness.

shit if im gonna get embarrassed, i'd betta get something back in return! they'd betta get a fleet of dem milo trucks waiting for me tmr, or else im gonna blow my top and... eat dust.

on your mark, get set, dust!