Ticketed!

This is so awesome, I just had to write about it.

I'm going to my melonhead newphew's 1 month anniversary party. My brother lives in Sengkang and I'm trying to get trim again after months of binge drinking hijinks. So I opted to cycle. After all, with my new flash wheels, how can I resist?

So I am merrily spinning along, and a man in white pulls up alongside me and motions me to the side of the road.

Long and short of it (because I am too lazy to make this any more interesting) he gave me a ticket for riding my bicycle on the expressway. That made me so excited. I could hardly act rebuked. I was smiling but trying to pretend not to be gleeful. Yea, I know. I'm not really right in my head. I mean, how many cyclists get pulled to the side by the traffic police? I am awesome.

I suppose scale-wise, I could have been speeding. I think I did 48km/h at some point. But I could be wrong and that was some other part of the ride.

I liked the cop. After chatting with him a while, I realised that he was trying to knock some sense into me. He admitted he used to cycle too. (He was kind of chubby). He even gave me directions to Sengkang (after I broke down his stern demeanor) but thought I was nuts when he saw my IC and realised I was going there from Clementi. I bet he felt good that he had educated another errant wayward cyclist.

I didn't bother to point out that I could have been travelling from my gf's house.

Anyway here is the Boy.


Enjoying himself, wot? Think he's the bee's knees. :) Which he is. And the cat's meow, and pajamas. I'd love to be a month old again. That Boy can sleep like a, urm, newborn baby. (Speaking of which, after being tired all week, I shall also turn in early tonight)

He has a name now, but for convenience's sake, I shall continue to call him Melonhead. My niece said what an endearing term for him, and I have a soft spot for all my nephews, nieces, and cousins. So Melonhead it shall be.

Didn't get to tell her the Denephew suggestion though. Am sure that would have made her smile more. Incidentally she also said, babies all look alike.

So the onus is now on the Boy to be special. I like to pile on the pressure early.

Also, here's some loot. My job has some privileges, like free stuff. I rikey.



Polarised lenses! They shall be my new riding shades.

All in all, this does not bode well for my future in driving. But in motorsports racing.... HUGE fan. I'm a gentle caressing ace. A legend in my own mind. Ahaha.

Yes, take me drunk, please, I'm home.

Gently Caress It!

I'm feeling stressed.

Today, I went out and met a heck lot of editors and a writer, plus I helped out my friend with something she's helping a friend with.


I suddenly remember why I left my last job in copywriting.

When you put writing (a creative thing) under scrutiny, that part of you just wants to shrivel up and die.

Writing shouldn't be judged.

Thank goodness for this blog. I can type bad english. Boring, uninteresting English.

Yay.

Btw, 'gently caress' is what kids are calling it these days. I don't give a gently caressing damn, really.

Tee hee.

Sleepy sleepy

That is now my official site mascot.

A mutation of the internet meme:

{o,o}
|)__)
-"-"-
O RLY?

I don't know why an owl though.


According to the Urban Dictionary:

O rly 1537 up, 123 down


Internet slang, short for "Oh, really?". Used in the following ways; often sarcastic:

1. In response to someone who has said/pointed out something very obvious

2. In response to someone who has insulted you or has aggressively disagreed with you

3. In response to a boring, nerdy comment you don't understand or care about (i.e. a peice of trivia)

4. In response to a comment that seems hard to believe or a lie

Occasionally some will respond to an "O rly?" comment with "ya rly" or "rly", but this is lame and not recommended.

1. A: Dude! Did you see this? There's an eye on the pyramid on the back of all these dollar bills!

B: O rly?

2. A: You're a fucking loser, A Cinderella Story was a shitty movie.

B: O rly.

3. A: Yes, but did you all know that the word "catapult" is of Hungarian and French origin and roughly translates to blah blah blah......

B: o rly?

4. A: My aunt is friends with Lindsay Lohan's agent's sister, and she's said that Lindz is totally not a cokehead, so stfu.

B: O RLY?

And according to Wikipedia's entry:

O RLY?, short for "Oh, really?" is a popular Internet phenomenon, typically presented as an image macro featuring a Snowy Owl. The usual conversation flow starts with O RLY?, triggering a YA RLY ("Yeah, really") response, followed by a NO WAI! ("No way"). These may be used in combination with any number of other Internet slang expressions.

The phrase "O RLY?" is typically used in a sarcastic or sardonic manner, often in response to a statement that the speaker feels is obvious, or blatantly self-contradictory. Some Internet forum trolls may also reply O RLY? in response to a lengthy post (see also TLDR).


My point is? I have to get some work started. As I've explained before, I use this blog to get the engine turning.

It's not working.

How about a crappy joke?

What animal can jump higher than a house?

None. A house can't jump. *rimshot*

Think I've told that one before here.

Yep. Warming up a bit. Later.

And feet don't touch the ground

Nobody knows this... but I let my riding clothes dry under my table at work.

That can be our little secret. Let's hook last fingers.

And oh yea, breakfast was pathetic.



But really cute, though.

And I'm looking for a bag. It just isn't working out to bring 2 bags to work. This is where most of the stuff goes in:



Laptop, charger, mouse, coins, keys, notebooks (real notebooks), files/documents, a magazine or two, and a book (hardcover). The bag has 2 large pockets on the cover/flap. There is also an attachment for a phone/ipod.






The other bag is a simple sling bag, from my time in France. Incidentally I also bought the Quiksilver in Paris. How weird.




Anyway, its a real chore to bring both bags in to work. They slide around and are super uncomfortable, because one of the straps bite into my shoulder... I can't tell which one though. They like take turns. And I have no space for shoes.

So now I have the lust on for this:






This baby takes everything, plus my melonhead nephew could probably sleep in there too. Seriously, the thing is waterproof, so if you make it buoyant, you could row it like a canoe. And I'm only exaggerating a little.

Which colour, though?

I wish I remember everything you said

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The Waltz by Silje Nergaard

Strike up the band let it play
Love songs to haunt me and I will stay
But when it comes to a waltz
Both words and music will ring false

For you waltzed in
And spun my world
Around in dizzy dance
I swirled
But suddenly
You waltzed away from me

Those violins, they must go
So no careless hand with a bow
May play on the strings of my heart
And make me remember how lovers part

How you waltzed in
And spun my world
Around in dizzy dance
I swirled
But suddenly
You waltzed away from me

Strike up the band let it play
Whatever it chooses and I will say
Play me a waltz if you will
I'll sit here and listen waiting until

My love returns
To take my world
And spin it' round
In dizzy swirl
Where girl loves boy
And boy loves girl
And feet don't touch the ground


Why is it that my eyes well up when I hear this song?

Beautiful Day

I really need a life.

Going to write my novel and tv show instead.

Escape.

Like the cat.

Sticker Storm

I know. This is getting old. But this is me.

By the way, my profile on www.togoparts.com.

I'm lovin' it.

Lovin' it, lovin' it, lovin' it.

Hot damn.

I can't get enough of my ride.

This is what it must be like to fall in love (again).

Is this the part where I go 'buahaha'?

Buahaha.

Ok, lets try that again.

Buaha. Buahaha. BUAHAHAHAA.

Ok, once more with a little feeling:




That should do it.


In other news:
Anyway the flurry of upgrades (I bought a saddlebag to hold my spare tube; and a banana or two - its ginormous) is because I am riding to work again.

It takes 16 minutes to get to work, and about 8 to come back (I can nearly freewheel home). Meanwhile I can have a blast and save the Earth at the same time <--- ok ok, I lie. I don't really care about the Earth.

Ok ok. Maybe just a little.

How long wld it take on my new wheels?

Bladed wheels carve on rails

I love rhyme.

But that doesn't mean I'm a poet.

That said, I think beauty is a state of grace.

I don't know what that has to do with anything.

Incidentally, Debbie Gibson did a song called 'No More Rhyme'. Please don't let it happen to me.

I'm having a 4 day weekend.
(I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it.)

I did after all work 15 days straight and closed 2 magazines in that time.


Hey, do you remember when you were a kid, and you had a bicycle, you would put a piece of cardboard between the brakes and the tyres so that when you moved, they rubbed against each other and made you sound like a motorcycle?

Well, by 'you' I meant 'me'.

Just a year ago I bought a set of Xero Element XSM-1 . Loved them for their good looks, but the ride was harsh.



I sold them barely six months later because I was getting started in a new job and I needed the cash.



CUT TO: last night.





And today:






My new Mavic Crossrides.



Black, 24-spoked (same as the xeros), but the lacing is different -- and I was speculating when I thought about it - but proved correct - the ride is much more comfy with a less 'radial' pattern. I am awesome that way.

But colour me vain - the real attraction is really the bladed spokes.




I love them! And I feel faster! Am I really?

Who cares?

Those blades will cut that cardboard to *shreds*

And on the way home from the shop, I was plagued by a slow leak. I had to plan my route around petrol kiosks. Make that 5 stops.

I think the new wheels are testing me.

Bring it!

TIMBERRRRRRRRR!!!!!!

I just killed 20 to 100 trees today.

I don't know. How many trees does it take to make a book?

Proud of myself.

Live Earth.

Are you answering the call?

I'm still not yet dead.

But I'm so depressed.

I think its what happens when you sell your life to a job. Even if you love that job.
And I do. I've never had a job I loved more. Except when I worked in XX/XXXX.






That's my keyboard at work. All the USB slots are taken up. And I tucked Calvin to bed (under the blanket, or ok, towel) before I left last night. And, yes, I'm tickling his little laser underbelly there. Mabel used to like it when I did it. I think him and my hamster Mabel would be great friends.

Yes. My hamster's name was Mabel. Mabel Vincent Wong. That's her full name.







She is in hamster heaven by the way. Enjoying nuts, nuts, and more nuts.

I'll see her soon. Hurry hurry.

I'm so tired. And fuck, I'm so lonely. I really need a dog.

. . . _ _ _ . . .

Watching Live Earth is like watching Sesame Street all day long.

I freaking loved it.

Didn't help that I was stuck in front of my laptop for 15 hours, well, working, not wanking. (Ok, you have minus off lunch and dinner breaks, to be decent).

The entire weekend has been so surreal. Was I drunk? Did I smoke something? What really happened there?

And oh, Horatio from CSI Miami sounds like Agent Smith from The Matrix. "Helloo... Mister Anderson... How can you speak if you have no mouth?"



Imagine that.