Warning!!!

Now for all you jaywalkers who thought it was perfectly alright and fine to jaywalk, and that the only potential threat were cars, please take a good look at this picture. Be afraid, be very afraid.

Do not jaywalk. Do not even try. They are watching.

I Thought...

I thought since you are hard at work, I figured "hey instead of one, why not give her two posts?"

...lol...


I'm sitting right beside you now. You on phone with Eunice. Me madly peeking at you from the sides of my beady left eye.


Well, I suppose you owuldn't mind if I gave a more serious posting now hee...

Well well, bet you are glad! Your parents are back finally! Dog duties can be shared. Studies will resume and be productive and useful. I'm really glad to see you cheery, and more relaxed now and that you have the time and energy to do the things you need to do. Happy for you darling.

I know you will be very busy. I will take care of myself, so you don't have to worry about me yeah? Will go to work, eat properly and go pick up bears on Monday etc. If you need more coffee, chocolates, ice-cream, Ruffles. Call. =)

Thank You God for bringing us through difficult times and for the happy family reunion for Flippy.

A Stealing Confession

Yes it is true... A confession. I steal. Now, just before you begin to think this is some corny posting that is ultimately gonna say something cheesy like "i steal hearts", I hereby assure you it is not.

Yes it is true... A confession. I steal. Because of my profession, I shall choose not to reveal the nature of my work lest I get myself into some senseless inquisition. Yet, it is precisely because of the necessity of work that has rendered me helpless and numb to this abhored habit.

Yes it is true... A confession. I steal. This horrible habit. I have never done this before prior to joining this harsh profession. Yes, I assume it surely must be cursed. (ie voodoo-ed). Can I say? Will they allow me to utter the name of the profession? Will I live? I do not know. I do know, I'm appalled at how easily I forget and perpetuate this insane habit.

Yes it it true... A confession. I steal. Now I wonder if I can stop this? When? I often question and justify these foolish actions. Stealing things does not even produce this thrill some people experience. Why do I do it? I don't know. I do not even want the things I take.

Yes it is true... A confession. I steal. I only take a certain specific commodity. Why take something I cannot even begin to like nor find much use for? I do not know. Surely then it must be this mad profession that has driven us all insane in our own little ways. I have seen colleagues doing equally strange and horrible things, like tearing up paper or cutting the line at food stalls. Well, the things I take certainly do affect my work. It is indeed a big aid. Perhaps therein lies the reason I seek.

Yes it is true... A confession. I steal. From only a few specific people at work. Do I like them? Maybe I detest them? All the small talk I make with them, the courteous smiles, are they merely to faciliate my deeds? They do not suspect me. Not at all. Certainly not me. When the deed happens, I am not even conscious of it. It is frightening. I take it, sometimes a few at a time, sometimes even in large quantities and I go back to my place. And maybe, just maybe, while sitting at my place, I might come to realise the horrors and extent of my actions.

Yes it is true... A confession. I steal. What do I steal? I take rubber-bands. Red new rubber-bands.

An Apology Letter

Dear Madam

While this may sound absolutely ridiculous and hilarious to you that I should be the one penning this letter, I wish to inform you that the contents of this letter is of utmost importance and the tone serious.

I am writing on behalf of my butler/manager, Mr. KT. Right now, as I hang here laboriously writing this, he is sipping coffee and listening to Jamie Cullum, planning recipes for a certain mutual acquantance, Mr. B. However, he has specifically beseeched me to assist him in this endeavour. He wishes to express his heartfelt apology for the recent upsetting events that had transpired over these few days. He wishes to acknowledge his mistakes and folly. Personally, I think he is indeed a rather dense ass and makes the most confusing statements and suggestions at times. I will personally poodlely ensure I kick him when he begins to start his nonsense again. As an almost qualified counsellor, my assessment is that he can be dense and over assuming at times. However, I think he does sincerely want to correct that and make things better for you with every inch of his short yellow fur.

In addition, I wish to add that that dense ass is rather hopeless, hopelessly infatuated with you. When I spoke to him, he was rather shy about voicing the fact that time is insignificant with regards to how he feels towards you. Today still feels the same as the very first day. On one of my visits over at friends' places, I saw this interesting fridge magnet that says a marriage is a union of two forgiving people. I have always found it true and believe fervently in it. I know my butler believes in it too and is grateful that the one he loves extends that very same sentiment towards him. I have personally spoke to him about he talks and thinks, and that he should ask things more.

It is perfectly reasonable you may still have reservations about this but I, on his yellow behalf, wish to beseech you to try him out a little more and search within yourself for an answer for yourself whether you feel, and want to be with this bumbling lumbering entity. At the end of the day, though he whines a lot, gets teary easily and begs, I know for certain that he sincerely hopes the best for you too and that, as childishly worded as it may seem to you, you are happy. I get frustrated with him quite a lot too but I keep him around mainly because I operate on a tight budget and these days, it is rather difficult to employ a butler and a so-so cook all for the price of one. So do consider this warehouse clearance sale bargain. He's not exactly a gem but I know he would like to be one to you, so do consider.

With the above, I end my letter and thank you for your time to read this. I am not exactly very free myself to write this and probably would not have done it if he had not promised me exclusive smelling to pumpkin soup and fried carrot cake.


Yours Faithfully
The Rhos
/(`..`)\

The Friendship

This story is of how endearing friendships are formed and the tale of how entities come to learn how to cooperate and live together.

Just a few years ago, two dogs with a little difference in size went to two households living in the east side of Sunny Singapore. Their personality was rather different too. The male, a white maltese, went to a family in Tampines, owned primarily (read: poo, pee, misbehave, hassle) by the beautiful youngest daughter. The other dog, a female brown mongrel, went to a family in Eunos owned primarily (read: poo, pee, misbehave, hassle, pregnant, but not the babies) by the quirky happy-go-lucky eldest son.

These two dogs led rather happy lives in their respective households, guarding the family in their own special ways. However, the family could not always be with them all the time, and at times, these two dogs would get rather lonely.

One day, things changed.

The maltese had a peculiar eating habit. He was an artist of sorts and fancied placing his kibbles in avant-garde designs which the family did not quite comprehend. One day, the maltese discovered a band of renegade ants feeding on his artwork. He was not very pleased at first so he trotted over to speak to them. The poor frightened ants did not quite know what to do with the giant who had caught them in the act of scavenging food for their poor hungry stomachs. The generous maltese took pity on them after learning about their starvation and thought it absolutely ridiculous these poor ants had to go hungry in a household which always churned out huge amounts of delicious food. Generously, the maltese offered his kibbles to them, saying they could have it anytime they fancied, since he didn't fancy the kibbles much anyway. He told the ants, "woof, it's alright, you guys have it, I could just manja-manja a bit and get food from the dinner table!" Thus, he earned the gratitude of the less discerning ants. Once in a while, if you visited the household, you might see the ants trying the same attempt at manja-ing for food at the dinner table too but the family didn't take too kindly to that as they couldn't hear the voices of the tiny ants and proceeded to wipe them out. They lost quite a significant number that way for their great noble cause but because of the maltese's generosity, they managed to survive and continued to live in that household. Thus, the maltese also earned himself friends. When the family was out, and he was lonely, he would talk to the ants and at times, advised and lectured them on things they could do. His conversations sometimes grew into passionate rousing speeches of freedom and philosophies of life. He got carried away sometimes and barked too loud in the presence of the family, and they would proceed to shut him up with the dangerous pointing to strange, unidentified metallic objects. But still, the maltese was contented and happy with these little friends of his who would sometimes tip him off on mynahs perched closeby so he could swiftly pounce there and roar at them. It was one of his favourite game as the mynahs were a major threat to the well-being of his beloved mistress.

In the other household, things were not as happy and cheery for the mongrel. Everyday, she would normally be caged up behind locked glass doors that she could not open even with her brillance at opening doors which she learned from the dinosaurs from the movie Jurassic Park. It was on one of those dreaded rainy days when she had to hide beneath the bench for shelter from the rain that she met her new friends- the sparrows. The sparrows were on their magnificent journey around Singapore when they saw this poor dog hidden uncomfortably beneath the bench. They stopped, and perched on the balcony asking what was wrong with the poor mongrel and she told them her story. The sparrows pitited her and told her they would always visit her and keep her company. Sometimes, when the mongrel had rice for food, she would keep grains for them so that when they visit they could have a feast as the sparrows loved having rice too. Thus, over time, they formed a strong friendship and the sparrows would tell her of the sights they see while soaring in the skies, and the mongrel would tell them gossips of the family like how ridiculous some humans look while watching TV, and the lastest news in MOE, ComfortDelgro or HDB. On rare occasions when the glass doors are unlocked, the mongrel would open them and sneak in. She would do loud celebratory woofs to invite the sparrows in for a little game of hide-and-seek.

And so, we come to the end of this happy tale of how two dogs made friends of a different kind and learnt to live happily with each other.

The End.

Photos!!!

Yes finally.... yes yes, contain your excitement please, I know you're all excited and you can't wait to see the photos I have here. Sorry for the delay lol~ Hope you like them. I do. I think they're cute.







Happy Hanabi!















Ah... the mark of NUS. Though some penguins have shrieked they can't quite see it.
















Yes, my cubicle.















Ah, my faithful toilet companion who just sits and stones. -Humpty-














Contary to popular belief, my eyes can see fine. In fact I only need one.










Here on, it shall be a series of this fantastic place I grew up in. Mini food review: If you like fried mee hoon for breakfast, and is into healthy living, head to Bedok 85 market to find this fried bee hoon stall. The bee hoon is reputed to be fragrant and healthier because you can hardly find oil in the fried bee hoon. And it is fried to the right consistency and softness. There is also stewed chicken feet on Sundays. They are only open from early morning to about 11am. Good business.







The broad shoulders of the stall owner's elder brother. Looks like he's getting all warmed up and ready for a day of hawkering.

















The one inside is the stall owner ( also younger brother of the hippie in blue). He does not talk much but don't get put off by that, he's always been like this. Used to be a sailor and has inspired his nephew to become one too.












Another shot of the owner. (he bought me the most toys and recently tried to bestow me with a rolex)




















Ahh... the typical Sunday long queue. Is it the famous bee hoon or the legs?













The signboard of the famous fried bee hoon stall in Bedok 85. This shop sells equally fantastic hor fun stuff in the evening. Have to go and book earlier as they finish quickly too.
















Here it is.... the oiless bee hoon. Well, not really oiless but you know how advertising is these days... but it's really minimally oiled .















Rest after a long glorious time hawkering. Utterly drained and forlorn. Check out the famous gout of bout legs.



















Photographer gets distratced and started thinking of the time he had dessert at this stall with a GFP.





















Lastly..... the corpse bag. With brown and white diabetes....




















p.s.: check this out.... Choc-A-Bloc's opening hours...

A Fresh Fraz Tale

This tale of a tale, according to a pink poodle, is all true but certain names might have been changed to protect innocent parties.

A long time ago, according to the pink poodle himself, that being 4-5 doggie years ago, a pink poodle named Fraz grew up in a quiet town in England. His father owned the local bakery, and his whole family, consisting of him and the parents, worked there everyday hard at work, baking the most wonderful pastries and scones with passion and dedication.

This little shop was a favourite hangout for the people in town because they made the most fantastic scones and jam rolls. And everyday, there would be endless streams of people and poodles waiting patiently in line to buy their pastries and even to just sit there, sip tea and enjoy a slice of cake even. Without fail, every afternoon when the English thirst for tea, you could hear the frazzled voice of the young poodle. If you passed by, you could hear the poor boy endlessly asking things like, "papa, is this for table three?" or "papa, do we still have tea?" and even, "papa, Uncle Thomas is asking if we are absolutely sure we will be opening for business tomorrow even though he knows we open 7 days a week without fail. He just wants to be sure."

Step into the shop, and a warm and cosy picture greets you. There in the kitchen and counter, you would see a pair of poodle couple busy making bread and preparing them. Out running furiously round tables and and taking orders would be their young son, a... yes, a pink poodle. If you ever visit that little shop, be sure to order yourself a nice hot mug of chocolate and order the strawberry roll. Why? Because it is a technicolor feast just to watch the young pink poodle, whose colors are already so striking, lug this huge piece of similarly-colored strawberry roll to your table. Occasionally, you could even hear grandmothers making naughty remarks about how the young pink poodle looks as delicious as their strawberry rolls!

I heard their pastries are still as good, but it's a pity the young poodle is no longer helping out there now. He refuses to disclose ther address of their little humble shop but should you ever see a bakery that, at a glance, looks as though there were strawberry rolls running about, then most surely, you would know, you've found their little haven. Be sure to try their rolls!

An Intellectual Correspondence

To :

Great Flips


It is with great pleasure that I sit here in my endeavor to humbly pen a letter to you, O fearless leader who led the Soviets to countless victories over certain oppressors who shall remain anonymous. Since my rash and ignorant years at the university, it has long been my vain wish to initiate a correspondence, one hopefully of an intellectual basis, with one such as you whose reputation and knowledge far surpasses any distance your mighty flippers can cover. Therefore, O Great Flips, I do imagine you can understand the trepidation and elation that courses through me right now. In all your magnificence, allow me to give thanks and convey my gratitude that such chance and grace has been bestowed upon me, for I hold in my paws this wonderful opportunity to correspond with one of such overwhelming stature such as you.

In the fashion of all intellectual correspondences I have come across in my years of studying plebeian and priggish authors, I have religiously tried to fabricate as duplicitous and magniloquent a letter as I in all my inept ways can vainly attempt. O Alas, if this letter does pester you much like an incessant Victorian fly, then it has accomplished its primary mission. O Great Flips, fearless leader of Mother Russia, let it be made known that it is also within my diffident intention to, amid your harrowed and arduous undertakings, amuse you and in words and faith accompany you.

As with all enterprises that commence high and mighty, I fear this may yet turn out to be another similar rotten apple- all plush and grand on the outside but hollow within. Well, at least there may be maggots I hope. I say this not in jest, Great Brandisher of Claws. For time is not in my favor as I write this, and this petrified poohie personage grows not petrified but sleepy. Fortunately or not, this author has eyelids that seem to be constantly putting on incredible amounts of weight. However, the author does very much indeed enjoy writing this, especially to those dear and close to his pooh heart.

I recall that correspondences of such disposition must not be frivolous and trivial, therefore I shall bear that in mind not to indulge in minute inconsequential aspects of my life. Instead, I beseech you to sapre your precious time and join me in examining this matter of grave importance, this business we call Love.

As the author sits comfortably in his armchair, merry thoughts flashed of his loved one and how they manage to come to meet each other in this sea of confused entities. There are of course the occasional silly boyish giggles and careless moments when romantic thoughts slip most unintenionally into indulgent fleeting lewd fantasies. These are, I assure you, promptly dealt with.

Forgive me and spare the claws, for I have digressed. This intoxicating business we label as love has been pronounced as one of the most important in our line of work and association- in literature. And rightly so, may I add, as personal experience bears witness. There is one particular lady I fancy very much and hold her most particularly close to my heart. It is over much deliberation and extrapolation that this dim author has, once again, realise the vast emptiness and imperfection his life would most surely entail should he ever lose her.

Time and circumstances flow in unfathomable ways, and the author comprehends that to maintain and ensure a blissful relationship, effort has to be put in. He yearns very much, every day, to be so privileged to be given the chance to do so. The rest he leaves to God's Hands and pray they share a life together, rich or poor, happy or sad.

ps: in case you are interested to know, Great Leader, this lady the author fancies fervently is one of extraordinary disposition and character. May I also add that the author descibes her beauty as not merely skin-deep but innate. As such, the author has declared most stubbornly that her beauty is one of permanence, at least it will always be to him.


Yours Faithfully

PP
Head of countless unimpressive departments of the adminstration of Great Flips

The 7 Eating Habits of Effective People

I spot a trend. This round happy author has blogged rather regularly on all the Sunday mornings, so this shall not be an exception.

Was just off the phone with a penguin. Didn't sound too happy, work. Work. Work.

Hopes this helps.

This observation from the author was conceived while he was in NUS on friday. NUS is oldest university in Singapore. And may the author proudly add, he was from there.

Here is an excerpt from the book the author is currently contemplating on writing on effective people. Since 7 habits have already been done, he figured why not go with the Singaporean eat-and-eat culture and observe the eating habits of effective people. As the author was rather lazy to do extensive ressearch, he figured that the university might be a good place to observe schools of effective people just milling around. Besides, he would get to have old favourites from the much-missed canteen. Note to readers: Some of these habits may not be applied or practised on the general masses. They are observations from the author on subjects he observes in the canteen. Some actions may prove hazardous for babies or the careless.

1. When eating noodles, pull them really high above your head before eating it. Logic: perhaps it cools faster, ideal for people in a rush.

2. Always place a laptop or a book or the newspaper on the table when you eat so you do not look too overly interested in the food. Logic: they are a big source of help to soak up water and soups spilled on the table.

3. During busy lunchtime, buy your food and head for the section reserved for staff to find a place. Never mind if you're a student. Logic: it's your best chance at getting a seat there at lunchtime and it seems the only people who read the sign of the section being reserved for the NUS staff are the school cleaners and the NUS staff who do not seem to quite like sitting there.

4. If you forget to wear your fragrance for the day, fear not. Just walk past the stretch with the western food and fried carrot cake. Logic: the lovely fumes of fried food will fuel your flavour.

5. Put your bags at another table close to you even if there is more than enough seat at your place. Logic: you never know when you need to be selfless to give the extra seats to a friend passing by. Either that, or the bags need their own table to socialise.

6. When eating alone, sit in such a manner that your side profile face the masses even if you need both hands and eyes to see and cut your chicken chop properly. Logic: they think it looks cool.

7. This last note is a personal one from the author's years of rich experience. If you need to eat, and you have lotsa time on your hands, go about 20 mins past the hour. It is usually the least crowded. Logic: An average singaporean takes about 5mins to decide what to eat, about 5min to get food, and about 15-20min to eat. And students are usually released 10mins before the hour so if you go about 20mins past the hour, these hungry crowds have thinned considerably and the other hungry souls still in class are not out yet. By the time you get your food, you should be able to get seats. Voila, enjoy your meal!