Hear The Buzz?

Woke up this morning and saw this really big housefly buzzing around my bed. Guess that does tell a lot about the way I smell. Little fella probably thought I was dead.

Seemed something always had to wake me up before I was ready to get up and that fly was really pissing me off. Fine, lil' fly, you wanna play, I'll play with ya.

Washed my face, brushed my teeth (whatever's left anyway), went back and there it was. Still happily buzzing away in my room. Good, stay there fool, I'm gonna get'cha. So I strolled over to my fish tank, got the fish net and before the flying booger knew it, it was trapped in my hands.

It was sad to watching it flounder, unable to experience the freedom of flying as it once did only seconds ago. So I let it go. Its flying away now, out the window. I know in my heart it will now fly freely. Fly little bugger, fly. In fact I made sure thats all it can do.

I pulled off all its ugly little legs. Now the little bugger can't land.

Sweet Sounds Of The Morning

Today’s really boring. Not much to do except some laundry.

So as I stand at the window at the kitchen, I hear the familiar (and unbearably irritating) blast of hand-held horns. Along with it came the catchy Hokkien version of the Karung Guni Song (Sell Me Your Junk ditty). Come on, sing along, you know you want to…

“Karung guni, po chua, sah kor….
… pai laylio, dian see keeeeeeeee…….!!”

(horn horn horn horn horn horn horn horn) *fucking airhorns*

(until someone gives you junk, or when you finally feel stupid)

This fella walked around the car park for about 10 minutes, playing with his horn and shouting the same shit over and over, like he was auditioning for Singapore Idol. I think this scene pretty much plays out the same in many other neighborhoods in Singapore. But this area where I live was quite exceptional.

Right after he gets up his van and drives to another part of the neighborhood, a lorry comes in and William Hung gets off and starts singing the same song (and yes, with the same bloody instrument). It’s incredible; I imagine the law against killer litter is really to protect these noisy farts with their noisy horns.

What fascinates me (besides the intense irritation at the bloody noisy ruckus) is that as this one leaves as well, another arrives. What the hell?!

What makes this clown think anyone will wait for him, instead of selling whatever crap they have to the first available “rag & bone” singer. And how much crap do they think people keep anyway, that they have to come daily to ask for more crap.

And so the show goes on, there are a total of 5 Acts. Each played out with different singers and slightly different “give me your shit” songs, and different “rhythmic” horn accompaniment. Each Act took about five to ten minutes to play out. All this time, no one got to buy or sell shit. Soon, the beauty of pristine silence returned.

Of course, tomorrow the same bunch (or maybe not, I don’t really care) of 4 to 5 fellas again taking turns to sing their song. It will begin at about 8.30 to 9am, almost religiously. Imagine trying to sleep off your hangover through this racket, after a party last night. You’d wanna put a racket through their karung guni heads. And I won’t charge for that racket too.

Oh well, its nice and quiet again. Think I’ll go look at my neighbors at the next block now. Hopefully, I can catch one of them walking around naked in the privacy of their homes, and then sue the fool for insulting my modesty.

Cock shrinks away when Dog approaches.

With the Chinese New Year approaching, something popped into my mind (well, whatever's left of it).

If I thought last year was a cock year, I can be pretty sure the new one is going to the dogs.
Gawd, I can be sooo lame.

Love Handles

Went out to do a little work and ended up going back earlier than expected. It was only 12.30 in the afternoon and I had nothing to do for the rest of the day. Wonderful. Things sure are getting exciting in 2006.

After a nice shower, I thought I should get some food. As I held my abdomen wondering if I was hungry enough to overcome the bloody hassle of going downstairs to actually buy some food, I began to realise this old body brought along a lotta baggage into the new year. Wow, I was actually getting fatter. I thought I was fat last year. I think the new year may have also given me a new inch of storage space for the winter. And I think I saw the mirror develop a slight crack too.

Oh screw the food, thought I'll go down to the gym, and I did. The last time I visited this place was over 3 months ago. The old man was still there. His body was still better looking than mine.

I went through my routine, working every muscle in my body I could, that was permissible in public. As I left the gym, I felt so satisfied and buffed that I nearly wanted to stop the bus with my bare hands. Some idiot flagged it down and I didn't get to test my newfound bravado, so I got up the bus and went home. Grabbed some food along the way and soon I was in bed.

I just woke up an hour ago. My body doesn't recognise what my brain wants it to do now. Now almost every major movement I make is accompanied with a groan. Only thing I can do without much agony is surf the web, and I end up here after some time. Writing about the pain doesn't make it better either. Think I'm going to go lie down in bed and stay really still now.

I was fat and I went to the gym. Now I'm in pain and just as fat. Wonderful.

Moving along at daybreak. A travelogue.

Opening my eyes so early made me realise the not-so-beautiful fact of life. Mornings suck.

I look forward to the cool darkness of nightfall. Oddly, I feel energised by the blackscape of the night. Wait a minute. What the hell is blackscape, you ask? I haven't a clue. It just looked pretty cool as I typed it out.

Anyway, as I moved off the bed towards a distant bathroom, I squinted at the bright new light of the new year. Yes, I realised this was my first morning of 2006. Wow. Mornings still suck. Guess some things never change.

Somehow my transportation (legs, in this case) decided to bring me to the faraway place that some people call "the door to my home". I reach it, open it, grab the newspapers and then I closed it. As I flipped through the headlines, I learnt about last night's miracle of people learning to count backwards. Then I realised I was weary from the long trip from my bed to the door and so decided to save what remaining energy I had left to make the return journey. I left the newspapers on the table, as carrying it back with me might slow me down.

As I travelled along another route round the dining table, I realised too late that it was the long way back and decided to make an emergency stop at the sofa nearby. Thankfully, I managed to make it, and rested till lunch.

Travelling in the mornings really does take a toll on me. I didn't take pictures, as I kept my camera in another land, called the study room. So no pictures for this travelogue, sorry, maybe next time.

First, sex. Lots'a sex.

Noticed how my first blog had to be under the sex category? Ahh. I've a feeling you might have clicked on the word sex for your own reasons anyway. I've even put the word in bold in case you can't see it properly (especially the lot of you who might've been playing with yourselves too much).

Sex sells, sex is all important. We all have a sex. We don't all have sex (some of us only type the word to feel sexy). But we all do have a sex. Well, some call it gender. But sex does sell, so I'm just going to say sex.

Oh by the way, we're all outta sex today. Nothing sexy happened. No sex today, as with yesterday (or the year before). But at least you did just read alotta sex. Now go on, get outta here... Shoo.