Today's McSpicy was great, not only was the meat succulent, the juice from the platter was also sinfully dripping onto my pants.
Fwah, since when did McDonald's churn out such decent meat, I thought.
Ah!
C'est la vie eh?
Nah, it's only a cheap burger and I'm rambling as though it's a $10 oyster from some international buffet.
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Today (Thursday, 18th March '10) was a peculiar day.
It all began with something and ended with nothing, just like what it was always.
I got changed.
I styled my awfully messed-up hair a little - though to no avail.
I threw a white polo tee and a black cardigan over and pulled up my jeans and was about ready to go, then I asked myself "Where to?"
As ambiguous as it was, I didn't really have a place that I wanted to go.
I was procrastinating between Sim Lim, Peninsular Plaza (for add-on gadgets) or Suntec City before the evening crowd gonna prohibit my shopping trips at that area in the upcoming days.
In the end, I succumbed to boredom, absolute boredom -
I went to the boring "mall" a few minutes' walk from my place and bought two copies of newspaper, and returned home.
I surrendered myself to the massive LCD screen in my hall,
Hogging it all day long watching the amazing desert animals hunt and kill, and eventually what USS Ronald Reagen was all about.
There was the usual snacks littered all over the coffee-desk and my trustworthy notebook right infront of me while my eyes was oscillating between the two LCDs.
Later on, things got a little worse. I had to endure a marathon of EPL matches.
All by myself.
Perfect ingredients to a slouch potato indeed.
-
When I recovered from all that health-detrimental antics, I realised there were a couple of missed YM and FB messages while I abandoned my notebook for the TV.
Not that it bother me one bit. I mean, where are the people whom I want to talk to?
Hah, I bet with my tail that I'm probably blocked or am deleted, but there was nary a tear, yeah.
Today's newpaper was a good read, probably because I haven't been reading seriously for the past weeks.
Then for no apparent reason, I started getting petty with myself.
When I was getting my supper, I saw a prick riding an unicycle (I shan't go on), wobbling around as though he's some clown juggling bowling pins.
I had an adrenaline rush, the rush of blood to my head, I was fuming at myself.
Then when I got home, ready to devour that "last bowl of hay mee", I flipped the papers violently to be greeted by a "Mercedes E class" advertisement, vulgarly splashed across the page.
Among the Toyotas, Peugeots and Mazdas indeed.
I couldn't believe it, even whoever above hates me I thought.
I couldn't eat in peace, and it was made worse when SCV was showing this show of a bunch of poor Japanese vagabonds or what not, about their lives on an unicycle.
MONKEYS.
WHAT THE FUCK? NOT ENOUGH EH?
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It seemed like a long time since I got into this foul mood.
I cannot remember when I was so infuriated by such petty sightings, but nevertheless I am STILL a man who feels.
