Dear Diary
Closed at 4 today. Business was brisk. Nasi Padang seller Ali had
been making passes at new beer gal Ah Lian for the whole day. I
will too if I love pig trotters. Ah Lian wears denim cutoffs that
are so short that it rides up her bum each time she bends. More on
that some other times.
Met up with Ah Beng in the evening. Now Ah Beng is what most will
term as a good looker. Chiseled features, broad shoulders, tall and
dark, the airs of a typical Shenton way executive, typically
sported in his beemer. Looks aside. Ah Beng sells chicken rice
across the streets. Yeah. On our off days, Ah Beng and I catches
movies at YangTze cinema, enjoy a cold beer with hum.
Its one of those days today. Between cans of beer and hums we
discuss about issues that are close to our hearts, like how mosaics
can be removed from Japanese VCDs, Sonys X-ray camera and how
Triumphs new undergarment can help hide VPLs. 8 cans of beer
later, it dawned upon me that life, is like a hum. Each hum is
unlike the other. After an initial tough task to pry it open, the
biting of a hum is an ecstatic moment
one feels the warmth of pus
splitting out of its skin. It fills the mouth with a heavenly
aftertaste. Each hum is unique. And thats because you never know
where it has been before it ends on the plate. Hum experiences an
extreme test of survival. Born without hands, mouth, eyes and legs,
a hum cannot fend for itself nor fight for survival. It lives its
entire life in layers of mud and eventually ends up as a side dish
to beer.
Now hows THAT (hum) like life, I do not know.. Watdaya expect. I
had 8 cans of beer. You expect me to be sober and rational?
[This message has been edited by Illegal Operation (edited 11
August 2000).]