Not Getting Enough Fruits and Vegetables

I've just purchased a $5.5k piece of machinery to put in my mouth, though right now there's only about $2k worth. Still its enough to stop me from chewing properly. It's supposed to help me lose weight. That's all good but the problem is that I've discovered a whole new world of bacon bone flavoured, full-cream soups. I'm still not getting enough fruits and vegetables though. I miss it like hell. Hopefully, this Sunday's Sukiyaki with her thin, melting pieces of my favourite fruit will nurse my deficient self back to full health.

So, here's to Sunday. And here's a picture for old time's sake.

Beef Is My Favourite Fruit...

Tsk Tsk... And they say I couldn't turn vegetarian. I am so vegetarian man. Everyone knows Prime Angus Beef grows on golden trees. That's why they cost a hefty $50 a kilo. Cheap considering Choice Angus sells for $80 at your usual gourmet grocer like Swiss Butchery and Jasons. Meat was first cultivated by English Monks who grew them on short dwarf trees within the tight confines of cobbled walls. The secrecy and scarcity of this delicious crop meant steep prices in those days. Hence, the ironic name "butcher" or "butchery" refering to the customers who had to bleed large amounts of money for them (English humour I guess).

Who wouldn't bleed for such a bounty. Sweet and juicy. Life's natural goodness in every morsel. Aids digestion, relieves joint pain amd congested breathing. Some even say that this precious fruit promotes world peace. Sadly, not everyone will agree. And we say "tushay". Go, get thee behind me you cruel tofu sprout eaters and your damning foul tasting powdered blast dried mixes, and leave us peaceful vegetarians to our own.

Call It Rustic and Charge Another $5 bucks

I can't seem to think about anything else other than food. It's sad. And I'm obsessed. The weeks after the exams have been all about foodfoodfood. Food and Hospitatlity Asia was great, got a new contact for my USDA Angus. There was Bukenero, but nothing really excites more than cooking it myself. Preparing it in the kitchen with my new found super she-can-read-my-mind partner in the glutton section, I've found myself the consummate soulmate. And yes, we consume a lot. but nothing more than Sticky-prune-pudding that has captured my palatte recently. In fact, I've made it twice but haven't eaten more than a single slice myself. Sad. But steaming and baking the thing makes it seem like alchemy and magic.

As Ban says, I would have gotten spots by now...

It's tiring to hear the same old rumors go about again especially since it's been 4 years ever since the first appearance of "oh he has STDS, and he caught it from some whore in Thailand." If you had to malign someone I'd wished you jealous slutlets and malicious bastards come up with more creative stuff ("The Virginator" is not bad though). The truth is if I had to come out and tell my side of the story it won't seem very nice for the other party, so I shall just leave it at that.

I'm also very tired of hearing Singaporean women complain that local men are wimpy, indecisive and on the whole not very manly, because I actually find a disturbing number of instances that this is actually true. The irony is that Man, in his original glory is lost along wiith other qualities, like viginity and the abstinence of the use of foul words. Today's Man is epitomised in none other than Homer Simpson, Singapore's very own is little different except that he bets on 4D and goes to Tanjong Pagar for beer. Today, Society celebrates the Woman that is "like" Man, while Man who is "Man" is scorned.

I like boobs, I like drinking lots of beer and I like doing things by force knowing I could be absolutely wrong, but damn, what the hell. Some guys out there could definitely get more action if they act like dicks. Because, the truth is, women love dicks.

But there's also the other side of being a man. It's about taking care of the lady. It's about opening doors, helping with bags, fetching their tea, pampering them, giving baby oil massages, bouquets of roses, champagne and strawberries... that kind of thing. It's about honoring your word, about not making promises you can't keep, and about keeping promises even if it means losing your dick. It's about being gentlemanly.

Yes, I'm chauvinistic. But nothing makes me happier than knowing that my wife and children are well provided for and that my wife can be left to do the thing she does best (and definitely better than myself) - keeping home in shipshape, caring for the kids and making sure she's spa-ed, manicured, and spent most of my money.

Serving it up CHEENA WESTERN EDUCATION

I never would have thought that the final semester in SMU would be so painful. I should be glad that it'll be over in a week, and I am. It's just that the immense pain at these last stretches always seem to put the corner so... out of sight. What am I talking about? I'm talking about the inane policies that this blasted instituition imposes on my soft, vulnerable and sensitive faculties. It seems that my contemporaries are so much more battle-hardened or so much more condition. Or rather, so much more Singapolean, ie. plain indifferent.

It's my final semester, and owing to my vast experience of my last 7 semesters printing out notes and slides and hording them in naive optimism that one day I shall have use for them, I now realise that the old adage that you never use what you learn in school in the real world, is true, and that I should, therefore, not print my slides and notes. Some kind professor, ironically, realising that the above is mostly true alleviates much pain by allowing the examination to be "open book". Ironic because now I have to PRINT my slides and notes in order to have reference to them in the exam.

It's not the entire school that's bad. I can hardly hold anything against my peers, and let alone the wonderful faculty that exist (most of them anyway, you're always bound to get selfish, egotistical, bad-engrish talking people anywhere). My poor law prof had the kindness of heart to pursue the matter and was advised otherwise, due to asinine reasons that could only arise because they would not think of better controls. Dumb ass. But yes, my kind prof also had the patience to bear the brunt of my angst. You can read below:

Dear Prof,

I understand your position and to be honest, I'm already very touched that you tried. I actually find it quite amusing. Ironically the school, in almost litanical encouragement of laptop use, would be so narrowminded and uncreative in its application of technology. Perhaps of course, because education is an old and mature instituition and examinations are processed and administered by the like.

I pray you indulge me for a moment and consider my suggestion. All SMU exams are submitted in hardcopy, and it is also collected physically. There is hence no need for wireless internet access. It would not be so burdensome to disable wireless access in the exam facilities or even in the whole school for the duration of the exam. Of course, the internet and school network can still be accessed by LAN cables or in common areas such as the library. The multiplicity of notes/slides printed would be avoided and the fatality of yet more trees can be averted. It would seem superfluous to attempt to save one Bodhi Tree in the courtyard when we otherwise so flippantly cause the demise of others. A mere excercise in superficiality indeed.

Real learning and progress have always been impeded by ignorance and a lack of imagination that manifests itself in poor administration here at SMU. While the faculty and classes such as yours are a delight, dealing with the administration is always found in wanting. My sympathies to you and again many many thanks for making my last law class in SMU an absolute pleasure.

Yours sincerely,
Jeremy Nguee


At least I don't have to work there when I graudate. Like I always say, you can't have an american pedagogy thingie and have singaporeans run it. "It takes two hands to clap." Obviously, SMU is trying to clap with one, and you should see how they slap themselves once in a while to make a sound (ref. The Fast Trackers Billboard Booboo).

Getting my education at SMU is like going to Kallang to have the mixed grill. Call it American, Western... whatever. It's a few thin pieces of meat fried through and smothered in a garlic sauce. Don't get me wrong, I like the dish and I know I ordered a Kallang-original american-style grill. I'm just saying that a SMU education is like that: Cheena western. American style served the Sin-GAH-POH way. It's good for a while, but after I'm done with the chicken and the pork, it's the lamb, and the garlicky taste is getting quite sickly. And when it's all down to the last sausage, it just tastes like a whole of of baloney to me. The SMU Mixed Grill - A cheap piece of meat for each year. Should call it SMU Mixed-up Grill. Or messed-up grill. "Auntie, meesup grill zhi pua! Garick zuey zuey."

And you can ask Gary Seetoh, but I bet he won't even give you 2 chopsticks for it.

A Perfect Day

Home made open faced sandwiches with lots of balsmico and mesclun, topped with a runny hard boiled egg and ham shavings, drizzled with walnut oil and a warm dressing of balsamic, apricot and ginger. Watched 2 episode of Friends and a crazy show with a brilliant sound track. A spontaneous decision to go to Sentosa to see what other adventures await.

Ben and Jerry's, grilled italian sausages and lots of Hoegaarden while the sun sets. A quick shower brings a rainbow just over our heads. The afterglow casts the night sky in an ash blue against the shilouette of palm trees and rocky outcrops. As we sip Mandarin martinis and ameretto sours, a full moon hangs and the waves roll in gently while downtempo beats take us away.

Further away.

It's a perfect day.

"God works in mysterious ways" is the biggest understatement ever. One evening the family decided to go out for dinner at a new la mian/tse char place just across the road, but daddy changed his mind halfway and we decided to drive down a little further to Thompson to have our usual tse char, but the place was closed, so we went on to Toa Payoh Lorong 5 for steaks, but that was closed too. Just as we were exiting the car park at Lorong 5, a bicycle with 2 ah peks on it swerved out dangerously, as we exclaimed at their recklessness an oncoming car rammed into the both of them throwing the pillon off up the windshield and onto the road.

Thank God Angie was with us and she immediately went to attend to the injured while I quickly called for an ambulance. Dad assured the young driver that we witnessed everything and that we would testify should the need arise. A small crowd gathered and shared their concerns, one middle aged man more enthusiastic than the others, and I assured him that the pretty girl in attendance is a trained state registered nurse.

Dinner was back at the original la mian place we decided upon earlier. Food was assuringly decent and comforting especially after witnessing an accident. But the thing that struck me the most was the amazingly complicated sequence of events that let us to Toa Payoh Lorong 5, superficially, ending in futility but yet ultimately serving a greater purpose.

A precise sequence of events, totally unplanned for, surprises, amazes, touches, comforts, soothes and reassures. Just like seeing a beautiful sunset, a rainbow and the full moon, all in one evening tells me more convincingly than ever that while He may work in mysterious ways, He's there, He's for real and He's working.

The past few days have been perfect. Blessed with perfect sunsets, cool weather, full moons, a speckling of adventures and new experiences. Yet what makes all this perfect? It's who you share these moments with that lends them their meaning. Organic scallop burgers at lunch or midnight noodles with leftover ayam pangkang are things you'll remember you ate because of the person you shared them with. We hardly remember bad meals for long but meaningful meals we will remember almost forever.

Songs For December

The winds blow, and the cold moves in slowly, but still you can feel a change. A certain music is in the air, music that tells you its a new time of your life. As one more page is written, it is turned. I cannot but feel afraid and apprehensive - but yet the wind is cool and fresh. I cannot wait to read what new things will be written.