Last Day

It's the last day of the week. Heralding the end of July. July was the most fucked up month I have ever experienced in my lifetime. A whole lotta shit coupled with a whole lotta good endings towards the end.

In a way, I'm glad the shit happened. Just three phrases that I borrow from an incessantly drunk man I know.

"It's all in the game."
"There's no 2 ways about it"
"You, pack of balls"

Also, lessons I've learnt this month include:

"Don't show hand signals when you're dancing"
"Put your bag in the locker"
"Sir, is that a camera phone?"

I wanted to write and write and write. But Arch sent me 3 episodes of Entourage, a HBO production of sex and sex and yeah, there is a storyline somewhere but yeah, the sex overrules most of it. And I have to watch it to appease him. Bleach episode 90 awaits me too. So does Nacho Libre and Fast and Furious Tokyo Drift. You get the drift?

I was very happy with yesterday in general. I managed to drum it into (or attempted to since you can never guage delusional people), that I am displeased with her airy diva delusional maniacal behaviour. That, ha-ha-hee-hee doesn't constitute friend. I believe "A friend in need is a friend indeed" applies here.

I hold grudges. I don't run away from that truth. And I can hold it for very long too. Till it is equalized. I.e. I have given back to you what you've given me, in equal proportions.

But the good part is, once I'm done equalizing and spreading the reverse Karma effect, I'm cool with it. You won't hear a word on the alleged subject from me.

Sambal chicken fried rice and Hot plate tofu is a good combi. Especially when you have Tiger to wash it all down. Thanks for letting me drink. Haha. At least, I didn't "change my mind". Oops, sorry inside joke. Ah, what the heck, I'll let you in on it. The SMS convo:

V: The guys are at Notti 9. You can join up with them first, I come later.
Me: Nah, I at Bishan just finished dinner. Feel damn tired. I changed my mind. I'm going back home.
V:Ok, let me know if you change your mind again.

Boosh! Is it that it is already common knowledge that the prospect of good music and alcohol wipes away my tiredness in a jiffy. Is it also common knowledge that I don't mind hitting the club at 2 just for it to close at 3 just for my weekend intake quota to be fulfilled?

Well, it's not gonna be anymore. [I hope]


Finally, because of something niggling within my mind for the past week spurred by Rita's curiosity. I have decided to research on what the hell all the ingredients of our Indian Muslim Rojak are. You know... those colourful balls, the fish cake done in 4 different ways, the tauhu, the kentangs, the sausage . Rojak, believe it or not, is an authentic SINGAPOREAN creation. Created way back in the 50s by the creative hawkers at Waterloo Street.

It's my last week at work. With still 2 days of leave intact. Yum!

Adieu!

P.S. As I'm banned from dissing Ms. Vasantham finalists on my blog, due corporate and ethical reasons, click HERE for the diss on KLKillahs.

P.P.S. I am actively looking for a 21 year old, hottie called Jamie Joseph. Middle name Rachal. Any helps?