Comic Relief #187

Ever-smiling Shenny, who is/was bored and looking for work.

Comic Relief #186

What happens when pink-shorts girl gets a little too tipsy from being drenched by the rain and all. Joo know who you are.

Comic Relief #185

Comic Relief #184

Well done, belated birthday girl.

Comic Relief #183

Hilarity almost always ensues when Saj, Zahrah and Fahmy start talking. Saj here with old-school curly hair.

Comic Relief #182

Words can be tricky sometimes.

Comic Relief #181

A Stinking Suspicion

If only such mysteries could be so easily solved.

Today, on the way to the previously-mentioned epic exam of the millenium, I was fortunate enough to find myself in the lush cabins of Singapore's fine MRT trains during the morning rush hour. I did have the option of taking my trusty car, but out of a hope that there would be plans with certain people to "celebrate" the end of the exams after the said paper, and the fact that the sister needed the car in the early afternoon, I opted for public transport. I ended up going straight home after the paper.

Now, those fantastically loyal readers of this humble blog may come to realise that I almost always have a weird experience or story whenever I to indulge myself and make my way onto one of the those contraptions that don't go choo-choo. I have a sneaking suspicion that the public transport Gods hate me for some reason and shape their realm to make my time in between strangers as difficult as possible.

This time, I entered the cabin and immediately sensed an aura of annoyance. I was annoyed, have been since last night (Man Utd beating Portsmouth 2-0 helped slightly), and the feeling seemed mutual among my fellow passengers. So I sighed, slumped, strode half a step in and craftily slotted myself into a gap among the tired bodies. Then I whipped out my trusty iPod and proceeded to enjoy some music. And then it happened.

The stench was deafening, and the grimace of those around me assured me I was not alone in my discomfort. I looked around, trying to identify the inconsiderate stinker, but it seemed that eeryone around me was equally stupefied or I had before me at elast one world-class actor that Mediacorp should seriously look into hiring, because frankly, the talent on show on Channel 5 is as appealing as another COM 125 exam.

So I proceeded to play detective, staring into the faces of the others caught in the acrid cloud.

Suspect 1: Chinese male, late twenties to early thirties. Skinny, sweat stains on light blue shirt and with a huge mole on the back of his neck that looks like a beetle making a home in his hair.

Suspect 2: Old Malay woman, may be referred to as a tudungster by certain individuals. Squinty eyesm hobbled to a seat and stared at person until he evacuated.

Suspect 3: Chinese male, Poly student from an educated guess. Evacuated seat after being glared at by Malay woman. Looked uncomfortable, be it from the seat situation or other bodily functions.

Suspect 4: Indian male, dark-skinned. What most would call a Bangla though no indication of ethnicity or profession was evident. Did have dirt stains on his pants, alone and not holding hands with other Indian males. No particuclar odor.

Suspect 5: Youn - No, Slightly old malay woman trying to look young. Later revealed to be friend or relative or earlier tudungster. Applied strange-looking mascara to a face that already had enough make-up to carpet Sentosa, oblivious to the fact that the amount of make-up she had could also probably help in Singapore's effort to reclaim land.

Suspect 6: Chinese female. Student, probably. Reading Harry Potter book. Blacklisted for poor literary choice.

Suspect 7: Chinese female. Middled aged woman with dyed hair that looked like a mess of copper wire. Fumbled around with LV bag. Possibly fake.

Suspect 8: Old Chinese male. Position himself behind me, and held his hands over his crotch the entire journey.

I will admit that my initial reaction to the emergence of the less-than-savory aroma in the cabin was to eye to Indian male with my best "OMG-WTF-Did-you-just-fart-in-a-crowded-train" stare. I was going to, but I found out the hard way that keeping my head level resulted in extra strong whiffs of the vapor whenever I tried to breathe. So I stared at the ceiling, trying to keep my nose above the threshold of the insidious gas. I noticed others doing the same, though Miss Harry potter was too short and looked like she was going to throw up over her stupid little book.

At the next stop a few people got out and I slid effortlessly away from the throng of people, being both considerate to boarding passengers and not wanting to be overwhelmed by the fart fumes. From this relatively safe distance, I again tried to pinpoint the culprit, the fiendish fart fellow. Still, no clues.

I arrived at my stop without furthur developments or emissions, and exitted casting a swift glance over my shoulder at the few still in the cabin. I swear the mascara woman was scratching her bum. Damn her.

On Edge

Not really sure why. Just am.

Final paper of the semester tomorrow, I should be thrillied and/or studying diligently but then lately I've been and done little of either. Possibly one of the best things that's happened recently is my learning of an interesting medical condition that someone I know seems to be afflicted with.

So I'm here in front of my laptop with its non-working keyboard (screw you, Sony Support Team), flipping between Liverpool vs Arsenal and WWE Raw in the background, and trying to digest some inane powerpoint presentation about Google and Trojans. Recently ressurected my somewhat limited DotA skeelz, and have had mixed results so far, though some of the "chat" that friends and I have witnessed have been better than the actual games.

Recently I've also been asked some questions that have been asked more times than what I would have liked, though the ones behind the questions are just curious, and I don't hold it against them. I've also had to ask a few questions, to a few people, and have not been totally happy with the responses, but then most who know me will probably realise that I do have weird, if inconsistent, standards and stuff.

Well, back to pretending to try to study.

Comic Relief #180

"I wonder what would happen if I tel my mum I have an ang moh boyfriend."

Comic Relief #179

The Sandman

Enjoy.

Comic Relief #178

Weird, random psycho dreams are randomly weird and psychotic.

Comic Relief #177

I like this one. Apparently "the one with the lead" is also acceptable.

Comic Relief #176

Seriously, Blondie singing Cher... and no, not the famous Blondie.

Comic Relief #175

I would never have guessed what would compel someone to put something like fifteen ice cubs into his or her underwear, but some people do and say the weirdest shit after a few buckets.

Comic Relief #174

When Ken's got to go, he really has to go, books or no books.

Comic Relief #173

Sometimes my parents have the best conversations.

Comic Relief #172

Awesome how zombies can really screw you over.

Comic Relief #171

The dangers of alcohol.

Comic Relief #170

Verena doesn't wear that weird skirt anymore, nor does she have the "uneven hair" or the pink streak. oh well. Semester is ending soon, and maybe now we know why some people like 242 more than others!

Comic Relief #169

Comic Relief #168

Comic Relief #167

Breaking the wholesome images of the little mermaid.