A childish rhyme celebrating and mourning 15 years of smoking

THE AMATEUR STAGE (Boarding school 1990-1995)

It all began the usual way,
I smoked to hang out with friends back in the day.
We smoked discreetly in the toilets,
Blowing rings into the extractor fan inlets.
We smoked very fast,
As a way to relax between class
We smoked as a sign of protest,
We smoked to be different from the rest.
My parents did not like this,
But I thought I can quit in a moments notice

So thinking there that this will not go on forever,
I moved on to the next stage of my smoking career

THE PROFESSIONAL SMOKER STAGE (National Service 1995-1997)

Like the guy in the locomotive shoveling coal
I needed to suck in the nicotine to make me whole
To help me through the sense of helplessness and boredom
In that arbitrary military fiefdom
The habit was slowly fused into me,
A day without it was an impossible fantasy

It occurred to me, that it might now be possible,
That the effects on my lungs are becoming irreversible

THE ANTI-SOCIAL SMOKER STAGE (Cambridge and MIT 1997-2005)

My company has changed,
No longer hanging out with the miscreants and deranged
Replaced by the cream of the crop
Who thought smoking was rot.
I had to hide in the shadows and dark corners
To avoid the stares of these elite movers and shakers
Hurriedly emptying ashtrays into my closet
Everytime someone dropped by for a visit

Today I only “powerstick” once or twice
As I want to quit before I turn ten thrice
Just one step till completely quitting
But there is something I am fearing,
A part of me that I am losing
For I have completely forgotten the feeling
Of breathing only clean fresh air
And having fingers that smell fair.

The Seventh Month - witching hour

Discussion on spooky things during the seventh month* is not recommended for the faint-hearted.

As soon as your fearless reporter completed the entry on strange occurrences, another extraordinary incident took place. This time in the laundry room, during the witching hour of graduate school (Friday 10pm), when all students with a life take to the bars. Rather than settle in for a night of cooking shows on PBS, I decided to make myself useful and do the laundry instead. The laundry room was deserted and I was able to secure two large front loading washers. The clothes were then dumped into the dryer. I returned an hour later and to my horror discovered two pairs of boxers that didn’t belong to me tumbling along side my clean bed sheets and pillowcases!**

This traumatic incidence must be the work of some sick diabolical mind or perhaps the again the work of supernatural forces lurking in the building.

* In the Chinese calendar, seventh month occurs around August. It is like a month long Halloween, when it is believed that the gates of hell are open allowing the hungry ghosts to roam and look for unsuspecting victims.

** Just in case you were wondering, I soaked the bed sheets in boiling water before laundering and using them again. I also burnt three holes in the boxers with my cigarette (in place of incense) to ward off any malicious spirits before putting them into the unclaimed laundry box.

A Grimms Tale - The pigs and the mysterious rubber-band

Tonight we saw Brothers Grimm, reminded me of a real life strange encounter which occurred to yours truly…

It was a night in the midst of summer, a chokingly hot, humid and still night. The Claret during dinner was exceptional; I had slightly too much and went to bed with the room spinning around me. Gradually, I fell into a fitful sleep, punctuated by horrible nightmares.

There was a particularly vivid dream: I was working hard at my desk, attempting to revive a broken force transducer. It was late at night on a Saturday, the entire laboratory was deserted. I heard the usual complaints of Nutty indicating that they demand to be fed this instant. Like a faithful servant I went over to refill the hay buckets for them. And it happened! Missy ran up my arm, went gnawing for my jugular, the loquacious Nutty was cheering her on with her dreadful screech, blood shot out of my neck like a geyser. At this point, I woke up drenched in sweat!

I was terribly shaken by this horrible vision of the vicious furball. My throat was parched and numb, and I got up to get a drink of water. And that was when I found it! A rubber-band has mysteriously appeared in my mouth…

Till this day, I keep this rubber-band in my pantry to tie up unfinished bags of potato chips and as a reminder of this unusual occurrence on that fateful night.

I stress again, that this is a true story, worthy to be an excerpt from Jacob Grimm’s collection.

Foiled!

I tried to carry out my plan just now!

Giorgia was away running some errands. During that time, I trapped the pigs in their lounge area by using a cactus to block the exit. I then went to collect my scalpel and hammer action cordless drill.

But some sympathizer of the pigs must have guessed my intent and hid the drill away. I could not find it before Giorgia returned and had to postpone the plan till another day.

Those damned pigs, as a sign of protest, they kicked their faeces on my desk! I will get them for this!

Endangered Species

Went to Legal Seafood today, but it doesn’t quite do it for me. I miss consuming endangered species of coral fish. In my opinion, nothing can match up to the sweetness of the parrot fish (green jacket).

Or the giant Napoleon Wrasse (Loong Dun).

Meaningless existence of Missy

Everyday at work, the pigs mock my pathetic life by continuing with their pointless yet contented existence. I’ll show them, those rodents! One day when Giorgia is not looking…

Chinese Delicacies

Yesterday, during our lunch hour, I attempted to give my colleagues a taste of Chinese cuisine by listing my favourite delicacies and their method of preparation. We discussed the chemical reaction within the century egg and the irreversible saliva gelation of Puffins in Yin Wo.

Was rather disappointed this morning when I looked up on Century eggs in Wikipedia. Rather than a horrific description of burying eggs in horse piss and cow pies, the actual method only involved mundane materials such as clay, charcoal and quicklime. Better double check my facts on birds nests and jelly fish.

Pigs

This black one with messy fur is Missy, age: 1.5yrs ~ 3 servings, she has an attitude problem, thinks herself to be the queen.

The brown one is Nutty, age 0.85yrs ~ 5 servings. She is a walking stomach, always demanding food with her shrill whine. She has a weight problem, its difficult to pick her up now because her belly spills over the side of your hand.

They live luxuriously in a lavish complex, hand crafted by MIT engineers, fawned on by students and faculties. All this attention has got to their heads (and their 3g brain), they no longer show their human masters the appropriate respect. I am immune to their furry charms. Can just imagine them butterflied and seasoned with a dash of salt, pepper and butter. Perhaps finished with a quick squeeze of lemon too.

Yum

Eggs

I like all sorts of eggs.

My favourite way to cook them is to heat them on a non-stick pan, with a little oil, at low heat for 1 minute, then cover with a splash of water for another 2 minutes. The addition of water generates a small amount of steam and ensures the whites are cooked through while retaining a liquid yolk.

Yum, writing about it makes me hungry. Will have to leave work early and pick up some eggs on the way home.