Boiler with RECCOS...

The last time I checked, we just finished drinking at St James.
It was a Wednesday, then a Friday.
Wait. That was last week.

This, was what happened a few weeks ago...

Presenting... RECCOS @ Boiler!
In celebration of the April babies who were spawned of the same day: Beng, Xw and Jase.

The gals and the boys.
Smiling, laughing, having fun, getting drunk.
To be more precise, getting the birthday boys drunk.

The first man down.
Name: Teck Beng aka Beng
Drunken traits: Quiet(more quiet than usual), Immobile (developed a rather comfortable sitting stance). Always grinning. Visible loss of balance and gradual loss of control over limbs. Higher Propensity to vomit (now this I personally vouch for it. 3 puking sessions in less than 45 min!).
Next up, we have our 2nd winner!
Name: Xuanwei aka Vegan
Drunken traits: Propensity to point(middle finger usually) and stare at us, a session of loud curses and swearing followed by a mellow, quiet period. Still retained perfect control of limbs though mobility was greatly reduced. Puke was a strange translucent brown liquid devoid of sediments.

Our next winner didn't take too long to follow in the footsteps of the other birthday boys.
Name: Jason aka Jase
Drunken Traits: Projectile vomit covering a wide area of damage. Loud but repetitive comments. Secret practitioner of 'Drunken Fist'. Total loss of control over limbs.

This winner was not. I repeat. Was not part of the plan at all.
Though some of us might have the slight idea that he would, by some bizarre means/method, get himself sloshing drunk.
Name: Berd aka Anaconda
Drunken Traits: Total loss of control over the lower limbs(he will ALWAYS be crawling around I have no idea why). Total disregard for exposure of undergarments. High volume of vomit.

A rather apt picture of how the night went.
Some of us drunk, some half-drunk, and the unlucky ones were the sober ones who had to take care of the drunks.
I suddenly question the wisdom of not drinking... much that night.
Till the next birthday party then...

The Sky's the Limit...

Had a most interesting talk with Berd da Anaconda this evening.
The verdict was brutal. But honest.
My weaknesses, my flaws.
Exposed. Laid bare. Straight up.
This time, I had to plead guilty for all charges.

The questions flooded the emptiness in my car on the way back.
"Am I that lousy a player?"
"Do the rest of them expect a lower standard from me?"
"I'm in the team because I'm committed to come down for the matches, not because I can do something for the team?"
"Do I have any more room for improvements?"

I find myself unable to answer myself.
I thought that passion was enough.
I thought that hunger was enough.
I thought that effort was enough.
I thought that this pass was enough, that tackle was enough, the clearance, though fall short of the target, was enough.
I thought....

You think I thought who confirm?

"I'll learn."
I told Berd.
But I'll go one up.
Like I told you, I won't take this lying down.
I promise.
Not to anyone else but myself.
I will become a better player.

Like what the lot stated, if I want to do it, the Sky's the Limit.

Let's do it.

PS: Thanks Berd, for being so brutally honest. I did think alot about what you said on the way back...

The Fantastic 4...

Dinner tonight was something in the making.
Reasons being:

1. I missed home-cooked BLACK PEPPER CRABS by my mummy to see these guys.
2. We've been planning to meet for the longest time but just can't seem to find an auspicious date to accomodate all of us.
3. It's the first time all of us are meeting after we started working.

Without further ado, let me present to you.... the FANTASTIC 4!

From left:
Timmy aka Human Torch: He's always burning up ciggys. Nuff' said.
Hongyi aka The Thing: He's not orangey nor covered in stone skin but he does possess a natural resistance to technology. (not anymore though...)
Jem aka Mr Fantastic: Being a lawyer by occupation, he has the inherent ability to stretch loopholes in contracts/arguments/what-nots into unbelievable proportions.
Yz aka Mr Invisible: Disappears during class outings but turn up for dinner/kopi sessions when you least expect him to.

We had dinner at some quaint dim sum place in Chinatown, upon Wong's recommendation.
And here's some pictures I took while waiting for Jem...

Yz with his "I-think-the-guy-is-trying-to-lao-gan-me" look.

Wong with a "my-last-picture-wasn't-a-good-picture-so-I'll-pose-for-this-picture" look.

Did I mention that we started eating while 'waiting' for Jem?
(To be fair, he did call and tell us to go ahead. Plus we were all hungry.)

Here comes the man.
Who wasted no time in devouring what's available. In this case, I would venture a guess that it was fried carrot cake.
At this point of time, I would like to point out that I have absolutely no idea what the heck Yz was looking at.
The last piece of har gao perhaps?

f the night.
Was supposed to be more, but the hardworking waiter cleared the first round.
Plus we had no more space. (Dammit yz, you were right. We should've taken the LARGE table...)

It's good to finally meet up again, after such a long long time.
But it's funny ain't it?
The last time we 4 met up(if my memory serves me right), it was at the Starbucks, in Holland V.
Us in shorts, tshirts, some in jeans.
Fast forward. Stop. To now.
Shirt, pants, shoes.
The typical working attire.
We were young once(not to say we're terribly old now...), and we were carefree.
Work, more work, salary, bonus(or the lack of it), prospects, route of advancement, aims, goals, decisions to stay or to go.
We don't just gossip anymore, about the whowhatwhenwherehow.

Tick tick boom.
Time's up.
We Cinderellas have to make a move, the (self-imposed) curfew becokons, quick, we must go. Now!
Such is the harsh realities of the working life.

I wish I could ramble on.
But the hands of time have moved on, past the singular vertical line denoting 0030.

Bed-time.
Goodnight world. And till the 4 of us meet again...

Missing Muse...

The man picks up his pen,
and put it down again.
The man powers up his laptop,
but stares at the screen.

The man is me.
And I seem to have lost my muse.
I.
Just.
Cannot.
Think of how to write anymore.

Strangely enough, it was ever since that day.
That day when that happened.
I want to speak but I can't find the words.
Things pressing on my mind but the only escape is the alcohol and the smoke and the games and the books and the movies and the everything.
Everything except the solution to the problem.

And I have a feeling it might be: you.

Be kind. Rewind.

Of all people, I had to catch this show with Berd da Anaconda.
I realised the only thing to keep him quiet was a tub of popcorn.

Good show.
I recommend watching it. (though Berd claims its not funny and he doesn't understand it at all)
Me?
I think its a rather charming show. Well worth my time.
Since it's worth mine, I suppose the rest of you can go catch it too.

There's something I want to say.
Loads actually.
About the whys and the hows of watching this show.
But apparently, I'm unable to put it into words.
Seems to be happening to me quite recently.
I wonder why.

Maybe I know why, but its not the time nor the place to say it.
Till then, just a short post from me.

PS: Remember to catch this show.

Of candies, dinner and elephant...

Was out with Mr & Mrs Snake last night.
Supposed to be a simple affair, dinner and movie.
But I guess we can't spend an evening without doing something exciting, eh?

So here's what we, or more specifically, they did:

Some bleddy mad looking candy scooping jackpot machine.
All for the grand prize of...............

Dumbo the elephant.

Apparently, the aim of the game is:
1. decide when to scoop the sweets/tibits/what-nots
2. drop them into some pushing tray thingy,and prays hard that something will hit a li'l knob of a lever (actual term: CLICKER) the size of... my thumb.
3. Once the clicker is hit, the jackpot will be activated, where scores of 1, 2 or 3 are given. Then a meter will move according to the score.
4. Repeat steps 1 - 3.
5. When the meter hits A, B or C, something kickass happens. That you'll have to find out yourself.
6. When the meter hits JACKPOT, you get the prize.
PS: There is one short cut to hitting the jackpot. Pray damn hard then when the clicker activates the jackpot thingy, you score JP = hit the jackpot straight. Charge to the counter/nearest attendant and demand your prize. NOW.

And so, there we were, 3 smartly dressed adults behaving like li'l kids.
Or maybe that was just me?

Snake with an intense look of concentration plotting the next 'daring plan' with subtle touches of cunning thrown in for good measure.
And the result?
The less said about it the better.

PS: Me was alternating between trying to take pictures discreetly(cos Lady Boss claims that the management doesn't allow photo taking. She tried before) and understanding how the machine works.

Here's the 'prizes' for the whole of say... 45 minutes?
A plastic bag FULL of sweets and yes, Dumbo the stuffed elephant.

Lady Boss posing happily with her catch for the night.
Someone certain looked happy last night.

And the most kick-ass line(those kind of things say already people wanna kick your ass) uttered last night must be from Mr Snake:

Snake in cinema, with the bag of sweets nestling somewhere on his thighs but somewhat between the legs: "Hey Tim, later you take the sweets that time don't DIG TOO DEEP AH, later you grab some other THING instead."
I rest my case.

But I never knew such a machine could bring us so much joy.

Barter. Trade...

bar·ter:
–verb (used without object) 1. to trade by exchange of commodities rather than by the use of money.
–verb (used with object) 2. to exchange in trade, as one commodity for another; trade.

Was clearing up after dinner when I caught some snippets of the Channel 8 variety show "Barter Trade 2".
In a nutshell, the show is about people bringing things to exchange for whatever the show is offering, ie: tv, camera, computer etc etc.
But there's a catch.
Apparently, you must first go onstage to say what item you hope to get, why you want to get that particular item, and what is the history of the item you're trading. At the end of everything, the judges will decide the lucky ones to spin the wheel to see what they can get.
It goes something like that. If I'm not wrong.

Sounds like a good idea for a show?
I thought so too.
Until I heard what some of them had to say.
"Oh this one was the first present my wife gave to me..."
"I got this from my boyfriend, when we first got together..."

WHAT THE F**K?

Forgive me for being silly and naive but shouldn't things like these be kept like: forever and ever amen?
The sheer audacity of the situation hit me full in the face when some of them related stories like: "oh this item was part of the company Xmas presents exchange thingy, we traded gifts and that's how I got to know her, we started dating later blah blah blah..."
&
"my boyfriend scrimped and saved to buy this PDA for me, so now i want to give him something back, but I can't seem to save so I hope I can win something in this program..."

Oh. My. Friggin. Gawd.

Have these people no heart at all?
Do they even understand the meaning of sentimental value?
Have they become so pragmatic and practical that these items loses their emotional values?
Are they that DESPERATE?!?!?

I was at a loss for words.
These things, these items, these gifts.
They all mean something don't they?
For my case, I know mine did.
I know.
Cos I kept them, the items that mean something to me.
The notebook that you gave me, the baby bib you bought for me, the doggy keychain I got from you, the straw star you made for me, the cards that I received, the scrapbook of pictures that you took time to made.
I kept them all.
Yes, I did threw some of them away, only because looking at them reminded me of you(s).
But I will NEVER, EVER use them to TRADE for something else.

"Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange."
-- Alphonse Elric, "Fullmetal Alchemist"

Nothing can be of the equal value as those items.
They're something that's unique, each and every one of them.
They tell different stories, they invoke different feelings, and they are the locks, the locks that trap the times, the times that have long since past. Us.
By throwing them away, I'm throwing away parts of myself, and maybe li'l parts of you(s).
But by trading, I'm passing them to someone who has no rights or connections whatsoever.
And that, to me, is the greatest insult.

Maybe its just me.

The long, and the short...

Finally met up with Horny this evening.
Didn't manage to get the bugger for quite some time, and the last time I called, he was in Vietnam.
Viet-friggin'-nam?
I promptly hung up after telling him to call us when he's back.

So there we were.
At Wheelock place having Japanese food that was neither cheap nor filling.
Moved on to Long Bar.
Always like the place.
Maybe it's because I can shower the floor with peanut shells. Openly.
I'm such a sucker for stuff like that.

Horny suggested we bar hop, but me & Wee wee veto-ed it.
We were too broke, and too tired.
Coffee and Bedok 85 sounded just nice.
And before we knew it, it's almost 2, I just got home and because of the advance in technology, I can blog, and sh*t at the same time. :)

"With or without you" is still ringing in my head...

Hot off the Press!!!

Woo hoo!!!
The wait is over, and the next instalments of the RECCOS Chronicles are here!

Work. Life. Balance.

Work Life Balance.
The magical words that we all love to hear.
But know deep inside that that's a rather thin life between work and life.
If you hadn't notice by now, work seem to be stepping over and into life most of the time.
I for one never did get to enjoy life after work.

Let's do the maths.
You start your day at the grand time of say... 730(me for example), you brush, shower, shit, whatever.
You reach the office around say... 830.
Your engines start running after the morning coffee and ciggy so we put it as full steam ahead from 9 onwards.
Lunch break is a one hour affair from 1300 - 1400.
You come back to slave through the mundane hours of 1400 to 1800 (bless you who has no OT!)
That leaves you free from 1800 onwards.
But wait.
Let's say if you are conditioned to knock in a solid 7 hours of sleep, and given the fact that you need to wake u at 730, the absolute latest you need to touch down at home is probably... 2300?
Leaving 2300 - 1800 = 5 hours.
We are assuming that you don't drive, so travelling might shave an hour off the 5 hours, coupled with a stopover for dinner that will take the better part of an hour,
leaving you with a grand total of 3 hours.
So where's the work life balance?
I certainly cannot see what I can do in 3 hours that will counter the labor I put in for a good 7 - 8 hours of work in a day.

So, is it any wonder why I try to make the night last as long as possible?
I'm trying to achieve the balance, in my own little ways...

Crime, Punishment and Sorry, that's my Dinner you're looking at...

Seems like I'm rather preoccupied with crime these today.
Just finished watching "A Clockwork Orange" this evening after blitzing through "Minority Report" in the afternoon.
Somehow, the notions in these 2 mediums interest me.
Notion of "aversion therapy" and "Precrime" somewhat appeals to me.
Maybe it's my work, maybe I'm just bored.
But one thing is for sure, I shouldn't be preoccupied by such stuff in my free time...

On another note, I realized I'm pissed by a certian breed of people in the foodcourt.
You know, those bunch of bleedy stupid blighters who will, when your food is just served to you and you're busy picking out the chopsticks and spoons, comes real close to you, sniff at your food, and take a real long time to ogle at it.
Sorry but excuse me, that's my friggin' dinner you're staring at.
If you want to leer at some food, here's f**king $5, take it, buy some food, and leer all you want. If it pleases you, you could actually polish your brass monkey while you're at it.
I mean seriously, if you're curious as to what the food a certain stall is selling, all you have to do is look at the pictures they have on the stall.
If not, at the very least, you could steal a glance at what others are getting without intruding into their private space and mentally ravishing the food right in front of them.
Some people are just born stupid.
And I mean it. These are exactly those kind of people.
I tell you, if STUPIDITY was a crime, I'll probably pay to be in the police force...

Change the world....

"No matter how talented you are, 1 man cannot change the world."
-- L, "L: Change the World"

Maybe we're not that talented, maybe we'll never be.
But don't we change the world every day?
All the things that we do, all the things we say.
Your grand action of pulling someone out of the oncoming traffic might give him/her another stint on life in this world.
Your "I don't love you anymore" might send another world crashing down.
We all change the world everday, however big or small.
Change IS the only constant, isn't it?

Maybe I'm not that talented, maybe I'll never be.
But I want to change the world.
In my little ways, in any way I can.
For better or worse,
that's not for me to judge eh?

Find your way back home...

"The road to a friend's house is never long."
-- Danish Proverb

For the longest time ever, it didn't seem that long.
Figuratively and literally.
Not anymore.
The ones who were at the airport on Sunday morning.
From left: Elyne, Alvin(aka Rabbit), Philip, Kevin Wee


And here's Jamesy boi in the middle.

Just us guys.

Bon voyage Jamesy boi.
's gonna be rather quiet without you around here.

"We've done almost every shit possible together.", you told me that on Friday night.
Looking back, I think I have to agree...

From attempting to hump an inanimate cow on display to p**ing somewhere, everywhere.
This is rather the James I know.

From attempting to film "Mickey Mouse's Last Episode" to supper at Fong Seng, ending up with us in Vietnam("cesspool of filth, a cacophony of noise, a cluster of smoke and dust" - I like to call it).
These were the nonsense things we did.
And more.

So much we can say.
So much we did.
But let's not make it sound like you're never coming back (which I'm assuming you are, aren't you?).

So all I can say is:
Take care now, bye bye then.
Afterall, there's really nothing much we didn't say before...

I just had to put this picture because I didn't know what this expression mean.

TGIF...

Dinner anybody?
That was me. Last night.
The night before to be more exact.
Just the computer screen, the iPod, the water bottle and of course, the cup noodles. (the ciggys cannot be seen cos its somewhere behind me. I think..)
Did I had to stay so late?
Probably not if I didn't take so much time in the afternoon goofing around.
But then again, I just didn't feel comfortable if I don't finish my work.

Lucky I had this fella to accompany me.
I dub thee....erm.... Balls.
Fine I suck at coming up with names.
But to those who question the wisdom of having such a thing in the office, I say to you:
1. I need something to rest my legs on.
2. There's a street soccer court below the office building. I might, I just might, pop by there someday to play around.
3. I need something to distract me.
4. I need to train. And what better way to train then spend a few minutes everyday during lunch playing around the ball ala juggling, dribbling etc etc? Effort bor!!!

Here's a totally random picture.
My li'l niece Chloe.
She's like so~~~~~~~~~ cute!!!
(Berd stay away from her!)

A super random picture.
Furby!!!
Seriously I'm amazed by his sleeping posture.
But if he's comfortable, why not.

It's a friday night, just got home from some dinner, some drinking and staring at an emergency medical screening in less than 10 hours time.
TGIF though.
And tomorrow, and tomorrow.
Tomorrow will be a better day.
Isn't it?

So long, till the next year. Or the next week..

2nd day back to work and I'm dreading every moment of it.
The shit starts to fly in,
a seemingly endless stream of talks/meetings/discussions.
An afternoon wasted with some CNY celebration thingy that I was:
1. not interested in
2. no time to be interested in.

How I wish it was friday all over again.
At least we'll have an afternoon of Wii to look forward to,
though I might need to re-live the misery of having the supply of bak gua in my house being wiped out.
An evening where most, if not all, of us RECCOS guys were having our reunion dinner.
Like I said, it feels no different going to the Snake's lair for CNY, since we're there almost every week.
But then again, it just feels good to see all of us there.
With an expanding First Wives' Club. That's good.

The gambling with the shouting and cheering and antics and what-nots.
I look around and see the same familiar faces I've known for years.
Happy Chinese New Year guys.

Cheers to this year, see ye all.
Same time, same place.
Next year.
Or the next week, which is more likely.
Cheers.

Huppy huppy CNY, huat ah (I hope)!!!

Happy Chinese New Year to one and all yah.
Just the first day of CNY and I'm feeling friggin' SHAGGED.
Endless house visits, irritatin KIDS with boundless energy, neverending snacking... the list goes on.

Well, at least some traditions remain unchanged.
And well worth the deprived hours of sleep.
The annual CNY movie, the must-have supper/ talk cock session,
and this year,
a surprised visit to the LAN shop for a spot of gaming.
Thanks bitches.
And happy CNY to you guys again.

Now I wonder how the heck I'm going to wake up tomorrow.

Murder, I almost wrote...

I was this close to butchering my office desktop this afternoon. (for those who are interested to know why, can call me for the full story...)
But since I had no chopper/cleaver, plus I might actually get into trouble for the systematic disintegration of the computer, I had to suck it in.

That was only one flaw in this logic.
I couldn't get any work done = un-productive day today = busy busy tomorrow.
Sigh~~~

Suddenly its rather scary.
Scary that the recent posts are all about work.
And nothing else.
It's like everything is revolving around work these days.
Work related this, something to do with work that.
Yada yada yada...
I don't even blog about school that much, I think.

Maybe that's all about me nowadays eh?
Work work work.
Its getting to me in some way.
And I kinda detest it.
Recently it's been just work, then home, then rest, then work.
Repeat the cycle and it'll probably be easier to assassinate me than catch a flea with fits.
I need to get used to the lack of sleep, the long travelling hours, the monotony of the job.
Then, just then, I might be able to have a li'l more fun during the week.
For now, I just look forward to the weekends.....

Beware...

"Et tu, Bruté? — Then fall, Caesar!"

-- "Caesar, scene i ", William Shakespeare

Beware.

That was the warning one of the old birds had for me this afternoon.

"Be careful of him, he's not simple. He's ambitious".

Does it help that this guy is the same fat f*ck that I dislike immensely from the very first day?

Oh yeah...

The plot thickens...

Tick tock, watch the clock...

"The clock is the enemy.
The basic rule is this,
the more you look at the clock, the slower the time goes.
It'll uncover the hiding place of your mind and torture it every second.
This, is the basic art in dealing with the trade of your time."

-- Ben Willis, "Cashback"

I honestly didn't know time can move so slowly.
2nd day at work(or orientation to be more precise) and I'm starting to develop headaches.

Somehow, I kinda miss those days when I was in tshirt, shorts, running around in SAF shoes,
waist pouch bouncing up and down the hip, smelling a li'l better than a skunk with cologne.
Seems like the grass is always greener on the other side eh?

But on the bright side,
the journey's not as long as I expected,
the pay's somewhat decent(wait till I actually see it),
and best of all, my parents have stopped nagging.

I'm still trying to conform myself.
Another one bites the dust...

Taking out the trash, throwing away the memories...

Been taking out a lot of trash lately.
Cleaning up the house, clearing out my stuff.

So many little surprises.
Ticket stubs, a star made of straw, a keychain, a farecard with Neo Prints on it.
A knic here, a knack there.
I threw them all away.
I threw away the stubs that reminded me of some first dates, threw away the straw star that someone once gave me a long time ago while we were studying together, the keychain that was given by someone some time ago, the farecard with our Neo Prints from ages ago, gone.
Memories, some good, some bad.
Gone now.

It took me hours to clear out my stuff.
Not only because I was tempted to take a nap every now and then(I believe there are some sloths that stay awake for a longer period of time than me),
but because I was distracted.
Distracted by the memories associated with these objects.
Some made me smile,
some made me smile, albeit wryly.
Gone now.

It wasn't easy, but surprisingly, it wasn't that hard either.
Packed, tied and dumped.
Thanks for the memories.