Underpants Gnomes

Reidy reckons I need a different opening line, I thought she was worried about me borrowing from the Fast Show, but she said it was boring and I should change it. Technically I just did.
This week I have mostly been looking for my underpants. It would seem one of the drawbacks of living in a large place is that underpants go missing between the line and the bedroom and in a place with plenty of drawer space they could be anywhere. It’s something of a mystery how they went from being in a nicely folded pile to not being there at all. Reidy is blaming the gnomes, saying she saw it once on the telly. Unfortunately an episode of South Park is not going to cut it as an explanation and I am down to 5 pairs now. This by John Burrows’ standards is 3 extra than you need but it is quite warm and sweaty here.
I won’t bore you with the details of my breakfast dilemmas this week other than to issue a health warning around eating the Burger King Giant Omelet Sandwich. Do not ever ever be tempted to eat one of these, no matter how hung over you are.
I probably wouldn’t eat one of these either, curried chicken is one of many things that should never be inserted into a donut.
We went to an Aussie bar last Friday to watch the Aussie rules. This is not normally something I would be interested in but sporting achievements are a little thin on the ground this year so I’ll take what I can get. What was unusual about this bar is that it is smack in the middle of Little India and comes complete with mangy dog and Holden car body parts. It was pretty tame by Aussie bar standards though, very little swearing and no fighting but they tried to make up for it by putting on some pretty loud cover bands into a very small space. This Saturday they open for the grand final at 9:00am so perhaps then they will put on a true Aussie cultural display. Saturday we went to our new favourite bar it is probably even better than the Wallace.
I saw a quite unusual sign this week, “One puff and you’re in cuffs” it said. This was on the side of a school and I initially thought it was warning of the perils of underage felatio, but it was in fact trying to discourage kids from smoking. But the most impressive poster I have seen for a while is the one promoting the new Triumph one piece bra. Did I mention it’s impressive.
I have been very disturbed about some unusual things in the toilets at work. I am only speculating here, but I am pretty sure that people are washing their bottoms in the toilets. On two occasions this week there has been a lot of splashing following the flush in the cubicle next to me. My theory is that the person is washing his bot afterwards, but scooping water out of the toilet bowl? That’s not right. The problem is I don’t have anyone in the office to ask about this practice, it could be them.
We’re off the island tonight woohoo.

Over an out

Our House

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Mooncakes

This week I have mostly been eating Mooncakes. This surprised me somewhat as I thought mooncakes was something you actually did; pressing your bottom against the back window of the school bus. But in fact they’re actually a cake, weird huh, made from lotus seed paste and covered in a variety of outer pastries. Mooncakes
The luminous coloured ones are the scariest looking but probably the tastiest, but that said they don’t taste that good, a bit like lotus flavoured cardboard. The other interesting thing about mooncakes being in season is that it is mid autumn which it clearly is not in Singapore. This is because it is a Chinese festival related to overthrowing the Mongols, Singapore seems to be noticeably bereft of both Autumn and Mongols. I suspect the Singapore government may have some sort of weather and daylight regulating device that keeps the aircon up to 34° and the daylight at a standard 12 hours.

We went to a bar last week called Anywhere, which is not you’re average Singaporian bar. Stepping over the puddle of vomit (not the band but actual vomit) we wandered into this charming place that has broad cross section of aging deviants, prostitutes, lesbians and one transvestite. The one transvestite is actually the lead singer in the resident Philippino cover band called Tania. They’re like a real life version of 2WS on a Saturday night playing the best of the 60s,70s and the 80s as well as requests, you name it they play it. The mullet is alive and well with most of the band members, but the thing I found disturbing was the likeness of the base player to someone who was making my life a misery back home before I left. I Those of you who know him will be able to recognize him from this photo; scary.

Reidy had a job interview this week with the Aus Consulate as the Cultural Relationship Manager. I initially thought it was a joke advertising Sir Les Paterson’s job but apparently it was for real. I was quite keen for her to get the role so I could drink cheap VB and pee in their pool, but alas she was pipped at the post by someone else. So instead we have decided that she should set up a company; the Australian Cultural Management group and compete directly with them.
For those that didn’t know she will be back home in around 10 days for a couple of weeks, there will no doubt be a variety of events involving wine and talking. Although it is unlikely anyone will be able to get a word in between her and Lou for the first week, so maybe aim for the second week, they might have run out of thing to say by then. We are also getting off the island for the first time next weekend, heading to Kuala Lumpur for the weekend, not your normal weekend get away, but we are not your normal people.

Over and out

Pinchie Walks

It turns out that Crayfish shed their skins, I'm sure Mick Smith knew that and he might have even recounted this interesting fact to Jen while he was still trying to impress her when they were dating. But apart from maybe 2 people I know having any knowledge of the dermatoligal (I think that's a word) habits of a crayfish I think this would be news to most other people. Anyway when this happenns you end up with a complete hollow version of Pinchie which is nice because it's as close I can get to doing the things I would like to do with my best friend Pinchie.

Bad Pinchie 

Pinchie takes a drink 

Out of the tank and watching football 

Pinchie the fresh water crayfish who has mostly been eating other fish which is a little unsociable. This has caused much grief with Reidy who isn't used to having pets, in particular pets that eat the other pets.

Deadly Rivets

This week I have mostly been healthier than last week, except for today where I wasn’t. I think I might have an allergy to wine, the day after drinking it I wake up with a headache and a dry mouth and apparently it makes me smell. It isn’t helped by the fact I am drinking with a semi pro wine consumer that is sadly missing her sidekick in Lou. I don’t mind too much except Reidy insists I dress up as a girl, smoke and talk long and hard about nothing. It’s the smoking I don’t like.
Anyway another mild wine allergic reaction this morning saw me yet again faced with a breakfast dilemma out at Tampines Junction. I thought I might have finally got this sorted the other day when I found a place that did toasted sandwiches. Apparently they also make coffee. It turns out the sandwich had slivers of the devil’s dick or cucumber all through it. As for the coffee well I didn’t keep an eye on that process but I think they ducked out the back and scooped up a cupful of the puddle I had narrowly avoided stepping in and then put some sugar in it. So I go in there today and thought maybe that just didn’t understand me last time so asked for a cappuccino and bugger me if they didn’t try to make the froth with a can of whipped cream. The sandwich order didn’t go splendidly either as I asked for “A toasted sandwich, but this time could you hold the dick.” Obviously not everyone refers to cucumber as a dick and obviously I didn’t really say that, but I think the wine allergy also makes me think silly things. End result, a cup of dirty water with a blob of whipped cream and cucumber laced toasted sandwich; very unsatisfactory.
No unusual posters to report this week, although I did flash past a large sign in a cab which was encouraging everyone to feel the vibrations. Not sure what vibrations they were exactly but it could have been a reference to my heroic wind. In the same cab I was a little disturbed to hear an announcement on the radio telling people they had until the end of the month to replace the aluminum rivets in their windows frames or be liable to a $5000 fine and or 6 months in prison. Apparently the window casings have been falling out and landing on people below. What the bloody hell is that about, it makes you wonder what they do to you if you commit a serious crime. Actually they hang you; Disneyland with the death penalty was one description of Singapore I heard during the week. They hang around 400 people a year here apparently. That’s 1.0958904109589041095890410958904 a day, which is quite a lot really.
However I am not sure how the police find the time to arrest people for doing bad stuff here when they have to deal with these serious issues like when “someone had called "999" to complain about the animal cut-outs displayed on July 28 outside the Buangkok MRT station, the police had to determine whether any offence had been committed under the Public Entertainments and Meetings Act.” Funny, read all about it here: http://www.todayonline.com/articles/71164.asp
We have to go and buy a wine fridge now, so over and out.

Grey Goose

This week I have mostly been drinking. Actually it wasn't this week it was last week but I am calling it this week. Not content with last Friday's hangover we went and got three more by Monday. Interestingly not only is Singapore well set up to provide you with the means to go and get yourself a really good hangover. This place also caters for the hungover, you can have McDonalds delivered to your house 24/7. I only had to roll off the couch get to the door and roll back again and I was soon back in my own filth with a remote in one hand and a burger in the other. Unreal. What was also slightly unreal was meeting a Chinese man called Barry, which is how we ended up with Saturday morning's hangover. So impressed with Emma's chest was he and his mate Vincent that they began providing us Grey Goose vodka shots every in what became a fairly intense session.
Saturday night was a comedy night with some thankfully imported comedians, having seen the way the locals chortal at the lamest of jokes in the movies a local comedian would have been a case of Force Vomit. Which incidentally is the name of a local pop band who's name is far tougher than they are. But I digress, Saturday we drank some more and ordered McDonalds delivery again, this time to the pub. Then Sunday we pressed our best hemp clothing and went to the WOMAD world music extravaganza. Not typically my area of interest but it was one of the rare times you could drink in the park here withouth being hit with a stick. Heading off for a nightcap seemed a splendid idea at the time, but wasn't I in a state on Monday.
I briefly thought I had managed to solve my hangover breakfast issues; I found a pie shop that also sold Italian coffee. However my euphoria was short lived as my eyes and ears gradually focused on an alarming number of references to Jesus. It was on statues, wall plaques, postcards and in the background music. The pies were good, the coffee ok but I have not been back to the Happy Clapping Pie shop since for some reason.

Over and Out