[ BARECHELOR PAD ]


::Quickys::
Name:
luwin wong
Age:
twenteen
Location:
on an island city state
Email:
luwinwong@hotmail.com

RevisitatioN:
month six o five
month five o five
month two o five
month one o five
month twelve o four
month eleventh o four
month tenth o four
month ninth o four
month eighth o four
month eleventh o three

period-full-stop
luwin


Well on this green page i'll say,
a thing of what i think today,
which since i please, i think i may,
type quick or slow or pink or gray.
And although pink might sound right gay,
i will right now your fears allay,
i'm quite alright, for bent i'm nay.
i kinda think, it's quite okay,
i cannot sing, like mike buble,
nor even act poor capulet,
upon the bright, shiny parquet
of good ol' grand broadway.
I haven't been to cold norway,
or timbuktu, or mandalay.
Coz singapore, the place i stay,
has got only one railway,
that leads direct to sia-malay,
where its quite fun to play.
If i ever own a chevrolet,
it just might be a cabriolet,
but that'll have to wait till next payday,
which just might come, if i do pray.
Now i had enough of this wordplay,
i'll end right now, this quarterway.
i hoped u liked this "-ay" buffet,
I bid you all, a nice good day.



Grow old along with me..

Thursday, September 09, 2004

Divine Retribution
.
I didn't pay for dinner today.
I had a not-so-grand total of $5.30 in my possession,
and i had spent great care summing up each and every stall within Suntec City Fountain Atrium's foodcourt.

I didn't feel like having rice.
For some reason, i never did like rice.
Cept for when i'm eating Chicken Kung-pow
Chicken Kung-pow invariably has to go with white rice.
Any fortune cookie worth it's dough would tell you the same thing.

However, I had noodles for lunch today.
Kimci noodles no less.
Which meant that I couldn't possibly eat noodles again for dinner.
Which didn't leave me with heckalot of a choice.
And with $5.30, Western delicacies are out of the equation as well.

In any case, to cut a long story short,
I settled for Hot plate Japanese Teppenyaki.
The Mainland Chinese cashier dude didn't ask for payment,
And I innocently forgot to pay.
I dunno. Maybe I've got the honest i-always-pay-for-meals look that all honest people've got.
In any case, I sincerely believe that this misadventure made him learn from his negligence.
So all is not lost.

How I figured out I hadn't pay was like this:
The meal wasn't great.
$5 Teppenyaki's, You'd soon learn, seldom are.
So I wasn't feeling overly awesome at squandering my last 5 something on a meal that didn't prove to be all that terrific.
With a good portion of the accompanying rice still left on the bowl, I left the foodcourt.
Feeling unsatisfied at having eaten an unsatisfying meal.

My sulken saunter towards the mrt took me face up to a Yami Yoghurt joint.
Which cheered me up no ends as there's no better way to cap off a rotten lunch.
So, in a trance like state, i placed an order for a regular natural.
Because as much as i appreciate yami yoghurt, i sure as heck wouldn't fork out any more than $2.30 for fermented cattle juice.

As a milky trail of viscous heaven flowed into the green paper cup i couldn't wait to get my grubby paws upon,
i instinctively reached for my wallet to complete a symbiotic transaction.
It was then it struck me -
' i couldn't possibly have any dough to pay!'

For you see, at that point in time, i wasn't yet aware of my incidental missapropriation.
So what rocketed around my skull when something like this:
'oshit-oshit-oshit-oshit...'
Which panicked me to spontaneously formulate two courses of action-

COA 1 - Run. Like Terry Fox on steriods.
COA 2 - Stroll away nonchalantly with a deadpan expression which reads: "yami what?"

The first ran the risk of forsaking all measure of dignity which, although wouldn't amount to much, still had me cringing at the prospect.
The other required me to act beyond my ability and quite possibly be the subject of profanities of some dialect from yami-yoghurt-cashier-auntie.

Once again... spoilt for sodding choice.

I dejectedly plunged my sweaty palms down my trousers pockets,
and joy of joys,
my fingers brushed against the familiar texture of the-root-of-all-evil with a flourish of elation.

Returning to dodgy-teppenyaki-man to pay up, was by now out of the question.
I couldn't possibly disappoint yami-yoghurt-cashier-auntie, who was by now expectantly holding up the green cup of molten pearly delight for my indulgence, now could i?

On hindsight, i should've just excuted one of my dumbass plans.
Cause the yoghurt didn't taste as smooth as i remembered it.
In fact, it was sickeningly grainy.
like munching on cold soluble soil.
Hideously expensive cold soluble soil.

I entertained the thought that it might have been some divine retribution of sorts, for pulling a fast one over slity-eyed-psuedo-japanese-teppenyaki-counter-guy.

But then figured i was probably reading too deep into it.

That's what i figure.

Two cents dropped on or about.. 10:18 AM


+ + +

..the best is yet to be.