season's greetings

season's greetings to one and all! here's wishing y'all a merry, merry christmas, and a very happy new year!

pinched!

to the motherfuckingsonofabitch who pinched 2 of my hundred-dollar bills, please know this:

i don't know who you are, yet, but believe me when i say i will fucking find out. once i do that, i will relentlessly hunt down the motherfucking weasel that you are.

when, not if, i eventually catch you, you will dread the day that you were born; you will curse your mother for bringing you into this world to experience such unimaginable pain and misery that i shall take immense pleasure and satisfaction in inflicting upon you.

you will look to the heavens begging for help, but there shall be no assistance rendered and no mercy bestowed upon bastards like you. you will know that you deserve it, and you will beg for forgiveness, but it shall not be granted, for it is neither warranted nor justified.

bear this in mind, you shit-fucking piece of scum: the sad, miserable existence you call life has effectively ended the minute your puny, low-life, bottom-dwelling arse crossed my path.

butter fucktory

after last night, i now officially hate butter factory. it serves bad music and lousy cocktails; there's no room in the place to even reach for a scratch, let alone dance; the crowd is uninteresting, and has an annoying tendency to step on your feet (or maybe that had something to do with me wearing a man utd jersey?); they make you circumnavigate the building just for a smoke; gosh, the whining is ceaseless.

in a nutshell, butter fucktory plain sucks. which explains why we relocated to good old cosy vogue. ah.. vogue. i like vogue. =)

day 10

08 Dec 2008 - 10 days after passing my driving test.

we were headed for prawning at punggol park after buffalo wings, fried mushrooms and fish & chips at jalan kayu. i took a wrong turn and got us lost. after a short while of driving through the drizzle, i found a way to put us back on the right track. approaching the stop-line, i wasn't sure if there was going to be a green right-turn arrow, so like a good motorist obeying traffic regulations, i gently brought the car to a halt.

i stared intently at the traffic light. bingo! green right-turn arrow. i checked for traffic. clear. pedestrians. clear. confident that there were no apparent hazards, i thought, 'okay, let's go'. so i moved off.

and then it happened.

like a streak of lightning, the headlights of an on-rushing vehicle blinded me. i instinctively jammed the brakes but it was far too late. muscles tensed and eyes tightly shut, i cringed and braced myself for the imminent collision.

SMASH!

the impact of the crash took me about 5 seconds to recover from the shock. in that 5 seconds, i went from a fearful 'argh!' to a dazed 'huh?' to a sinking revelation with 'uh-oh.' i checked my passengers for injuries - jo bruised her knees; jlo cut her lip. okay. not so bad. what about the other car?

as i got down, i cast a frown upon the damage and sensed my blood beginning to boil. i went over to confront the idiot who created the mess. rage was building up with each step i took towards the driver's side of the other car. i wanted to punch someone.

just as i made my way around the back of his vehicle, the driver stepped out. short. medium build. grey hair. t-shirt. shorts. slippers. specs. distressed look on aged face. looks at least 50 years old. fumbling with his handphone. hmm.. wait a sec. i can't punch him - he's too old! realising that i would be in a whole shitload of trouble with my mum when she finds out, i decided not to look for more trouble, and the violence subsided, but not the stern, cross-browed look i was wearing.

me: you okay? is anyone hurt?
him: sorry, sorry, sorry! yeah.. uh.. i'm okay. but my wife, she's hurt..
me: so you're calling for an ambulance?
him: no. no. i'm calling for the tow truck.. gimme a minute yeah.

i thought to myself, 'this bugger here says his wife is hurt, yet he's on the phone with the tow truck company? fuck. this just doesn't make sense.'

i went over to the passenger side of his car and saw his wife easing her way gingerly out of the car.

me: hey, you alright? heard you got hurt. you should sit back down.
her: no, no.. i want to stand.. my chest.. i think it's the seatbelt..
me: i'm calling an ambulance for you.
her: yes, yes.. thank you.. thank you very much..

i called for the ambulance and also the police, all the while staring, with utter dismay, at the twisted heap of metal and plastic that now made up the front of my car. the way his car crashed into mine, a mangled mess with smoky raindrops evaporating off the top, looked to me like warped robotic siamese twins. thoughts raced through my mind, 'shit. he could have killed me.' then it struck me, 'shit. mum's gonna kill me.' finally, i understood, 'shit. he SHOULD have killed me.' well, perhaps not. anyway, up to this point, the guy is STILL on the phone with his tow truck guy. what the fuck is that all about?

the ambulance arrived shortly and the lady was stretchered off. jlo received treatment for her cut lip, while jo helped to take photo evidence with her iphone. the old man, finally off the phone, was apologising remorsefully to his wife. i heard her asking, in cantonese, 'why didn't you see the red light?' fuck. i'm dying to hear him justify that, but he's just repeating, 'i'm so sorry.. it's my fault.. my fault..'

as the ambulance ferried the lady to the hospital, i surveyed the area and saw that a massive congestion had formed. cars, buses, vans, bikes, trucks - the 5 lanes were all jammed up because the vehicles were having a difficult time trying to negotiate paths around the blockage. and to add to the drama of the scene, it was still drizzling. what was meant to be a perfectly enjoyable evening turned out to be a real pain in the arse.

the 'highlight of the night', to quote jlo, came after the police arrived. we were ordered to move our vehicles to the side of the road, so that traffic normalcy could resume. my mum, who by this time had already arrived at the scene and was giving me an earful of why i shouldn't be driving without her guidance and supervision, snatched the car keys from me and went off to comply with the officers' instructions. the old man did likewise.

now here comes the highlight. there was no way for his vehicle to move forward, so in a bid to dislodge his car from mine, he reversed - right into the side of the police car! the police officers went all panicky and started pointing angry fingers and shouting 'STOP! STOP!' at the old man. i went over to check on the consequences of the fiasco. not so much as a scratch. just a slight bump. a mini-bump. a pimple. he might just get away with it. lucky bastard.

me: sure you're gonna let him carry on?
officer1: hmm.. *nods unconvincingly*
me: what? look at him! after smashing my car, he went for yours!
officer1: the thing is, we can't drive for him.
me: whatever. he's probably gonna run us down in the process.
officer1: *shakes head bemusedly*
me: he could be drunk.
officer1: i doubt it. no smell of alcohol.
me: what about cough syrup?
officer1: hmm..

eventually, both our cars were at the side of the road, with no addition to the injury count. we were interviewed separately. after recounting my side of the story, i sneakily crept near to where the officers were taking statements from the old man. i could vaguely hear the old man's apologetic admission to running the red light, followed by a verbal warning from the officers about the possible charges the old man would be facing.

then came a long pause wherein the old man started deliberating on his given statement. to my shock and horror, i heard him say, 'eh, i think i remembered wrongly. the light was green! i did nothing wrong, what!' fucking hell, i thought to myself, i ought to go over and smack him left-right-centre for wimping out on his conscience. i ought to, but i didn't.

now, because initially, we didn't look for independent witnesses, i.e. not a passenger in either vehicle, it had turned to a case of his-word-against-mine. after spending a moment considering the possible impact of the old man's gutless lie, i weighed up my chances and started thinking, 'this idiot reversed into the police car, wrote 10 digits instead of 8 when asked for his contact number, and gave totally polarised and contradicting statements. his credibility is surely out of the window by now. it's a sure-win for me.'

conclusion: nobody was seriously hurt. i won the case. he got charged. justice prevails. my mum doesn't trust me with the car anymore though, but less driving translates into more drinking. no loss there. fine! =)

ps: jo and jlo, i'm sorry for having put you girls through this ordeal. may your wounds, both physical and emotional, heal soon!

gala - let a boy cry