the entry that smells bad

it is almost the end of my reservist training and one lesson i have regrettably managed to take away from this eight-day, military-morphing session is how foul-smelling one can be when donning on the army uniform. a fellow specialist of mine (name not to be disclosed, but i do hope you know who you are for the sake of future aromatic-smelling pleasantries) created a severe level of distress for my olfactory system over the week when we were in-camp together.

for someone who's sweat pores seemed to be working in over-gear, i am sure that my pot-bellied comrade has been informed of the crime of odor that he perpetually commits. yet, the pungent smell emits from him irregardless. it was so bad, at one time, i didn't have to turn around to know that he was behind just because i caught a whiff of his funk.

i would have overlooked it had we been out in the fields camping overnight for a couple of days, but the odor (i could envisage toxic, greenish odor with the hazard symbol of the skull-and-crossbones billowing from him) came when he was dressed in the green uniform for just a couple hours. and i am also fairly confident that during those hours, it was pretty much inert activity. the question thus lies upon how did he ever manage to be a tromping sewage?

i guess at the end of the day, it all boils down to negligence of hygiene. maybe i should buy him a sweat stick. or make that a dozen.

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the entry about a fantastic month old babe

in case you hadn't noticed, my winsome nephew has already clocked his first month on planet earth. his parents had decidedly thrown a lavish bash for him at six-star st. regis hotel, and me being the uncle, repressed and heavily eye-bagged, had the dubious honor to be the first guest promptly present at eight in the morning.

my guess is that a delightful sense of schadenfreude must have washed over my sinister brother when he saw me arriving disheveled, matted sweat-hair et al. the morning was the absolute pinnacle of fatigue for me, considering that my morning calls are usually during the mid-noon these days. fortunately, with my shadeys in tow, i lucked out and managed to pull off the vibrant and fresh look, or at least i gathered.

anyhow, my role for the day was to be the official usher. i managed to execute my duties duly, but not without a little camera action along the way. it can't hurt to show a little love for the relatives who made it to grace little declan's event by posing with them, i felt.

my brother and sister-in-law, toting little one-month old declan.

late night sleeps lead to specky outfitting, hence explains my cousin and i.

no idea who he is, perhaps a distant nephew, or just someone's kid.

my lovely, demure god-daughter, kyla. until...

you realise how feisty the little rascal can be.

just a heads up that this would be my last entry before my reservist. so i'd be donning on the olive, drabby green uniform for a while before i'd be back blogging. till then!

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the entry about glorified servantry and inedible pomes

i'd be damned if i had to pay another prodigious amount for pittance of onion slices and some miserable carrot shavings sloshed in a suspicious, viscous korean sauce. it's my maid's b-day, so i decided to pack her ass and mine and have a little us time in a cosy korean barbeque restaurant up in dempsey hill. here's the rest of the spoils that we ordered on our plate to celebrate her coming-of-age.

if the saying "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree" is anything to go by, then my room must have been the tree, figuratively speaking that is. given my propensity for recklessness and adventure, in one fell swoop, i'd decidedly replaced most of my existing peripherals, useful ones and paraphernalia alike, with new apple logo-ed devices. my hovel is now dotted with the notoriously-illuminated bitten-pome logos in the form of a desktop, a laptop, a phone and a mp3 player.

now you see it... (my old imac g5)

 now you see the newer one (with the accompanying macbook air)

my new nano in electric blue

now that i've got all my gadgetry back in working order, i can return to blogging as per normal. oh apple, apple, how do i love thee? finally, the return of some normalcy, thanks to the chanel brand of tech products. got apple?

indulging in a little cam-whoring.

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the entry that bids adieu ... or at least for the time being

what a downer, my computer broke down, and i'm ridiculously jamming the keys on the keyboard at the local gym i patronize just to blog. i didn't know going cold turkey off blogging could have such adverse effects.

moving along, because of the dearth of workable gadgetry in my hovel, i have resorted to skulking longer in the gymnasium when working out. during these times in the gym when i could ruminate in between sets, which equates to a fairly large amount of time, i have made two reasonable yet remarkable examinations: 1. some of the fitness instructors are in a serious need for fitness advice themselves, 2. the patrons who pay these fitness instructors still look the same the first day they joined.

concur much, anyone?

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the entry that celebrates creepy monsters

the past two weeks have been a fumbling, fleeting blur. in between making feisty attempts at baby-ogling at my newborn nephew and frequent visits to the gym as much as possible, it was a public holiday one weekend after the next. this week, the pumpkin holiday is around the corner and calls for some fantastic wardrobe costume changes.

sweet jesus. subterfugated by my own world-class indolence and last-minute decisions, it has led to me appearing at a festival festooned with cartoon characters and creepy monsters like this:

a semi-decent, pseudo shanghai-looking boy.

the rest of my cronies had themed themselves as greek gods, warriors and and the likes of the greek mythos. my entire get up was such a palin-fiasco that i decided to break out of the mould and just appear as myself. nevertheless, it was great fun meeting caricatures and creatures alike.

erm, the strawberry shortcakes?

poor girl's mask is still not completely dry

wanted for being totally cop-hot.

sherlyn is one hot mama in her ghetto get-up

the demure essence of the ladies

some girl-on-girl crime

yeah, but no, but yeah, vicky pollard!!!

having a taste of what a bloodied hand is like

here are some other random pics i found during other random gatherings.

let me just say this off the record, but does anyone find that crystal from survivor: gabon is the most useless castaway ever in survivor history?

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the entry of tiles, lights and alcohol

my lull periods have been equally divided between straddling on the gym benches and playing mahjong. whilst working tooth and nail at the gym proved to be fruitful (i'm starting to get a glimpse of some definition), i have been walking on eggshells when it come to the tile-shuffling recreation. an illustration of the bone tiles that i am generally dealt with (shown below).

with tiles like this, the other players must be brimming with gloat

beleaguered with perpetual bad luck, washing it down with alcohol seemed like the best course of action after all. ahoy there! deepavali beckons and oil lamps are lighted. it is time for some hard-core partying with friends.

the three stooges

ben and i having a wild time forgetting ourselves in the music

faces up for the camera!

can you spot where i am?

the battle of the single eyelids. duncan wins hands down.

party's over. cest la vie. jeremy kisses goodbye.

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