My edible selective guilt.

I'm guilty of selective guilt. I think everyone is guilty of selective guilt in one way or another. So here's my selective guilt. I'm guilty of thinking certain animals are more pitiful when they are used as food as compared to other animals just because they aren't mainstream chow fodder.

I first realised this when I went to Geylang to eat a few months back while on a cycling trip. Let me make one thing clear though, people do go to Geylang to eat. Its what they do after they eat that separates them. For example going for a walk through Lorongs 10 to 12. I did that but its was for sightseeing only. No kidding. I wouldn't be able to get laid anyway because I'm a broke NSF.

I actually chose not to eat the frog legs that were the speciality of the restaurant because I thought the frogs were pitiful, when I thought nothing of eating chicken, fish or pork before. After the meal though, I realised that I was very wrong to have done that because if I wanted to pity those poor animals, I shouldn't be a hypocrite and pity them only because they aren't mainstream chow, like the poor chickens. It should be an animal-wide thing.

Thinking from another angle though, animals are there to be eaten. I mean mother nature put them there so that the ones at the top of the food chain survive right? So there should not be any pity actually because the frog has actually fulfilled its life purpose. Well, at least one of two anyway, the other being raising a family. The frog should actually thank us for giving its life meaning, although that's a little warped. Thanking your murderer? That's pure sado-masochism. Yucks.

I think the frog probably doesn't give a shit whether its life has meaning anyway. Its only us humans that are so particular with our grandiose fantasies of making the world a better place.
The frogs know better. Just live your life for the moment before your time is up.

Shoot them screechers.

Some people are alive only because it is illegal to shoot them dead. A cliche but nevertheless true.

In this category would be people who sing horribly but want the whole world to know it. When someone actually tells them the truth, they begin on their pitiful denounciations on how people "can't recognise talent" when its all actually their wounded pride speaking. Its even funnier when these losers say that we'd be eating our words when they come out with their records and everyone will be taken by storm.

Ha ha. If even people who can sing well can't sell albums, what makes you think you can? If I had a lot of money I'd actually help these people cut an album, watch the albums flop spectacularly, then put them in work camps till they repay the cost I've incurred.

Alternatively I'd offer them to the police to crack up tough guy criminals during interrogations. I'm sure the criminals will be sobbing and begging for mercy after one rendition of "My heart will go on". And on. And on and on till you give up.

If you didn't believe in talent contests then why did you take part? And wait like a million hours for ten minutes of fame or infamy? At least do a William Hung and entertain us.

Oh wait, I hate that guy. He's only so successful because he's chinese. If he were white I think the whites would have shut him out long ago. They just like a chinese novelty who sounds and looks bad to convince themselves of their superiority. In other words, he's a chinese clown who makes a mockery of all chinese. I think that its in very bad taste. Can you imagine if we had a white guy in China called William Hank who sang so badly that he became famous?

But then again, he'd never make it big because he'd be killed by music piracy. If there's anything the chinese are good at, its making money at others' expense.

I vote to hang the hung. Someone ought to tell him what everyone has known all along. You can't sing for nuts. Stop being a shame to all chinese.

The theory of evolution, my style

The theory of evolution, my style.

I have come out with an evolution theory. The best part about it is that it involves almost no science at all, unless you really consider the dating game to be a science. Speaking of which I know people who actually think that the whole dating process and its subsequent selection of a mate is totally based on scientific factors that can be evaluated. Well, what can I say but happy experimenting! Can you imagine the pickup lines?

Wow, it must be 40 degrees celsius out in this atmosphere today. Do you mind if I buy you some ethanol?

Bleargh.

Anyway what I am talking about here how the chinese became short.

The real reason is that because chinese guys have an oversized ego, they refuse to choose someone who is taller than them, hence they always go for shorter girls. If guys keep going for shorter girls, then the average will keep decreasing.

You know what happens? Over a few generations, the chinese offspring become shorter and shorter, and soon, voila, the whole race becomes short! So to buck this trend, we guys should start going for taller girls so that in a few generations we will be as tall as ang mohs through some selection theory I learnt in biology class all those years ago.

However, the truth of the whole matter is, there is no way we chinese guys will go for taller girls. If we did we would not be chinese. Thanks to all that mumbo jumbo about the male being the head of the family, we have been throughly brainwashed since young and would probably crumble if we were not at least one head above our other halves. Which is quite tough for some of us are not that tall ourselves, thanks to the huge egos of our forefathers before us. But thankfully for us, its across the board. The girls get shorter too. Someday we will probably all be midgets but at least the chinese ego remains intact.

In the future, the word for short might become the word "chinese". "Like hey there you chinese guy! You're so chinese I can't see you!"

Africans around the world will be relieved. They aren't the only invisibles anymore.

The store run.

When the army tells you that they're going to do a routine store run, don't expect something like a simple grab and run. A routine store run basically means we need something we don't have, and we go somewhere to borrow it and we return. So it can be simplified into need, go, take, return, four easy steps. You'll be surprised how these 4 easy steps can easily become like 12 steps.

I was working halfway on some exercise setup when I suddenly got arrowed for the routine store run. I didn't even have time to take cover. I had just returned from the mid-day parade and next thing I knew I'd been shot with an arrow right in the ass. I couldn't even deflect it because there wasn't anyone else to deflect it to. Note here to superiors in a certain signal battalion. We need more bloody conscripts!13 men and 5 specs does not add up to 60 no matter how you look at it. And we're not a permanent duty platoon. Just because we don't have enough people to do anything doesn't mean that we can do everything else.

Anyway, in a few moments we were ready to go for our store run. Here's how the 4 steps became 12.

Step 1: Knowing roughly what we need, we gather at the company office to wait for a driver and vehicle to take us for our store run.

Step 2: We find out that there aren't ANY drivers. The drivers who are supposed to be free are making unauthorised home runs, and all the other drivers have IPPT later. However, there is a vehicle. It is a cause for joy. We just saved 2 hours. Company orderly sarge (COS) starts calling for last resort drivers.

Step 3: We wait around for half an hour for a driver to appear out of smoke. Finally we get one. Apparently his off got voided. Happiness.

Step 4: We head for our destination, and reach it 30 minutes later. We park the vehicle, turn off the engine, and change our passes. Upon our return, we try to start the tonner and find out that the vehicle has broken down. The thing is like 30 years old man. Maybe we should consider umm... scrapping it? Buy some new tonners!

Step 5: We head off on a pilgrimage to find a mechanic who can save us out of our sorry fate. We're extremely lucky that the place is located on a hill with a 15 degree incline, and its a 20 minute walk upslope.

Step 6: We reach the MT line. The mechanic hears about our plight. Driver then calls and says that the tonner is now ok. Miracles do happen, however ridiculous. Unfortunately we're 20 minutes away from the tonner. We tell the driver to drive to our halfway point to meet up.

Step 7: Tonner reaches halfway point. Unable to clear the checkpoint as the driver has lost his pass. What the fark. Tonner goes back to the start point.

Step 8: We decide to wait for another friend to pick us up instead of walking another 10 minutes. The friend arrives 30 minutes later, but just zooms by us like we're invisible. Which was quite impressive considering that we were waving at him and wearing green against a white background.

Step 9: We walk out of camp. Apparently the friend has already made the run for us. We search the stuff in the tonner and find the missing pass. However we find out that we need to go to another camp to get more stuff. Like I said its never so simple.

Step 10: We head to new camp. On the way, some punk in a sports car cuts our lane and shouts "fuck you!" accompanied by the obligatory middle finger. Look out for a clown driving a champagne green convertible around the upper bukit timah area. Highly entertaining. Too bad he's gay and goes for NSFs. Unless you have that kind of taste. In that case stay away from me.

Step 11: We reach the second camp. We pick up our second set of stores. We leave camp.

Step 12: We get lost on our way back. We end up in some industrial area trying to enter the expressway from a dead end till the driver realises he's driven to the wrong place. We eventually reach our own camp 45 minutes later. The routine run took 5 hours when it should have taken like 2?

All this because of one stupid arrow.