Inanity
I apologise for the relatively long lapse in posts. Being home, I'm trying to do as much nothing as I possibly can. I'm soaking up Penang!
Provisional results are wholly out. Might have flunked one paper (Renal & Urinary Diseases), but won't know for sure until the end of June, when the finalised results will be released. I don't give a fuck, really. Everytime I think about school I feel like raping old ladies, so I'm trying not to go there too much. I'll see what happens.
Have had nothing constructive to say since I got home, and this post is no different. Forgive the inanity; I don't want to think above the absolutely necessary. Pictures it is, then, of what happened over the weekend..
Hokkien Mee and Apom Manis in Jelutong for breakfast. Man, I've had wet dreams about this when in Dublin. Haha. Ha. Ha.
Sisters' Char Koay Teow! Also Jawa Mee & Lor Mee at the side. Admittedly, the Char Koay Teow at Lorong Selamat is marginally better, but I try not to go there as the lady who chars the koay teow is a cocky bitch. She never leaves the taugeh out of my koay teow.
I don't eat taugeh.
I need my weekly fix of see ham (cockles). It's an unhealthy addiction, I know. Hepatitis B-inducing and extremely dirty. But when it tastes this good, who cares, really? Ciak ham (eating cockles, Hokkien) is slang for eating a girl out. Wahey! You're smarter now than you were two seconds ago!
My very own drunkometer. I'm able to easily gauge how drunk I am. An old scar on me left hand gets redder the further I fall. I'm bloody amazing, I know. Thank you.
The farmer himself. When not working, the farmer bonds with his son over Char Koay Teow in Lorong Selamat. Obviously, the farmer has no qualms about cocky hawkers. Or taugeh.
The new place. The farmer is especially pleased with the address. No more definitely definitely die die shite this time around.
CC was over in the new place; he volunteered to be our kuli baruah for a day. Free labour. Thanks, yeah? We spent hours and hours cutting up old cardboard boxes. What for?
This. The farmer is paranoid about workers scratching the wood floor.
Have finally bought a bed. Looks sturdy enough to withstand repeated sessions of seed-sowing over many, many years. Want to find out for sure, though. Any volunteers?
Provisional results are wholly out. Might have flunked one paper (Renal & Urinary Diseases), but won't know for sure until the end of June, when the finalised results will be released. I don't give a fuck, really. Everytime I think about school I feel like raping old ladies, so I'm trying not to go there too much. I'll see what happens.
Have had nothing constructive to say since I got home, and this post is no different. Forgive the inanity; I don't want to think above the absolutely necessary. Pictures it is, then, of what happened over the weekend..
Hokkien Mee and Apom Manis in Jelutong for breakfast. Man, I've had wet dreams about this when in Dublin. Haha. Ha. Ha.
Sisters' Char Koay Teow! Also Jawa Mee & Lor Mee at the side. Admittedly, the Char Koay Teow at Lorong Selamat is marginally better, but I try not to go there as the lady who chars the koay teow is a cocky bitch. She never leaves the taugeh out of my koay teow.
I don't eat taugeh.
I need my weekly fix of see ham (cockles). It's an unhealthy addiction, I know. Hepatitis B-inducing and extremely dirty. But when it tastes this good, who cares, really? Ciak ham (eating cockles, Hokkien) is slang for eating a girl out. Wahey! You're smarter now than you were two seconds ago!
My very own drunkometer. I'm able to easily gauge how drunk I am. An old scar on me left hand gets redder the further I fall. I'm bloody amazing, I know. Thank you.
The farmer himself. When not working, the farmer bonds with his son over Char Koay Teow in Lorong Selamat. Obviously, the farmer has no qualms about cocky hawkers. Or taugeh.
The new place. The farmer is especially pleased with the address. No more definitely definitely die die shite this time around.
CC was over in the new place; he volunteered to be our kuli baruah for a day. Free labour. Thanks, yeah? We spent hours and hours cutting up old cardboard boxes. What for?
This. The farmer is paranoid about workers scratching the wood floor.
Have finally bought a bed. Looks sturdy enough to withstand repeated sessions of seed-sowing over many, many years. Want to find out for sure, though. Any volunteers?
This entry was posted by tsh, on
Tuesday, May 31, 2005.
You can bitch back.
tiu! now i am kuli baruah.
lol.. nice stairs.. no wonder the farmer doesn't want em scratched..
where's your new place la? tanjung bungah there?
hua hua hua.. :D
say it