Excuse me, your pants never zip.

I hope regular readers of this blog realized by now that there is a cultural phenomenon sweeping across this tiny red dot we call Singapore. The fact that I consider the following phenomenon the most astonishing thing to happen on Earth since some gigantic rocks landed on this planet and killed all Dinosaurs, you know it must be something really Earth shattering. To keep things simple, I’ll simply call this phenomenon,

“THE VANISHING CANS PHENOMENON”

I sure by now you would have noticed aunties rammaging through rubbish bins and hawker centre all over Singapore in such of something exclusive called ALUMINUM CANS. Just like how it was cool in the 80s for all aunties to perm their hair so that they look like they are carrying 50 packets of Maggi noodles on their head. Aunties nowadays wouldn’t be seen dead without clutching a prized drinking can in their hand. In fact, this activity is considered so trendy the cleaning ladies at Singapore Polytechnic have apparently joined in the fun.

The following conversation took place between a cleaning lady and me at the Singapore Polytechnic this afternoon.

Aunty: Boy, still got water in your can?

Me: Erm, yes.

(30 seconds later…)

Aunty: Boy, still got water in your can?

Me: Erm, yes.

When I eventually finish my can of coffee, the view of my table usually changes from this,

To this within 2 seconds,

There are several reasons to explain the vanishing cans phenomenon.

1. Aunties all over Singapore are collaborating on a project in a bid to enter the Guinness Book of Records where they be building a giant replica of the Great Wall of China using only aluminum drinking cans. The project shall be tentatively called The Great Cans of Singapore.

2. The aunties want to teach their Chee Ko Pek husbands a lesson by shoving aluminium cans up their…

Ermm, maybe not.

I think there is this virus spreading around McDonald outlets all over Singapore, but before you worry about becoming, ahem, a Black Sheep. Let me just make it clear that this virus only affects Magic cards players, so you are safe as long as you keep your hands off those cards.

Symptoms of this virus are as follows.

1. The first stage of virus alters your genetic materials and turns you into a selfish person who only thinks about yourself, your French fries and your cup of Coca Cola. You are likely to occupy tables at McDonald 24-7 with a cup of Coca Cola and your collection of limited edition Magic cards.

2. The second stage of the virus will alter your looks as the guy on the left in the following photo will testify.

That’s the result of 50 packets of French fries too many. The virus makes every part of your body oily except for your fingers. (This is to prevent your limited edition Magic cards from oil stains)

3. The third stage of the virus will turn you into a loner who only speaks with fellow Magic cards players. And when you speak, the conversation invariably ends up sounding like this.

Player A: Wah, my Hit Points nearly empty already you Orgy Ogre really powerful.

Player B: Ya, but my Mana points very little already. I need to boost my Ogre already.

Player C: Eh, who took my Wizard card?

Player A: Can lend me your calculator and pen? I need to calculate my remaining Hit Points.

Player B: Okay, here you go.

Player C: Eh, who took my Wizard card?

Player A: Wah, I’m feeling quite hungry. Can pass me some fries?

Player B: Okay, here you go.

Player C: Eh, who took my Wizard card?

Players A & B: Munch Munch Munch.

 4. The forth stage of the virus will indirectly turn your already very kaopeh face into an even more kaopeh face, especially on Saturdays, Sundays and Public holidays. This is because people who are craving for a hamburger will realize there are no more seats available for them and they usually vent their frustration by punching Magic cards players in their face.

5. The fifth and most advance stage of the Magic virus will give you the ability to ignore everything that is happening around you. Or in simple terms, what I call the Kay-Siao symptoms. This stage of the virus gives Magic cards players immense concentration power as they always managed to ignore the hovering crowd of people around their table. This stage of the virus will also give players the ability to survive an entire day at McDonald with only a cup of Coca Cola.

Oh, I think I better bugger off and hide in Batu Cave. I’m petrified of this virus.

Okay, I was invited to a NUS Graduation Ceremony recently. Ermm, sort of. Actually my sister threatened to release my baby bathing photo collections if I didn’t show up, but let’s not digress from this topic.

What really irks me about this kind of event is that you get to rub your shoulder with these people who are better looking, smarter and richer than you and that really makes you feel like a rabbit caught in the crosshair of an oncoming bazooka. At times it even feels like you are rubbing armpits rather then shoulders with these elite uncaring people because most of them are about one neck taller than me.

To top it off, I was greeted by this gigantic mocking metallic sculpture.

I felt so alienated during the trip that I probably won’t be visiting NUS for the foreseeable future.

You know things are very wrong when the block where you live in starts to resemble a Lebanon refugee camp. The only difference between Lebanon and Hougang is, while they have Lebanon oil and petrol dollars, we only have cooking oil and Monopoly dollars.

Every morning when I make my way to school, I dread stepping into the lift because it looks like this,

I’m afraid that I’ll step into the lift as a human being and gets carried out by the undertaker as a corpse because you are very likely to be,

1. Stoned to death by your neighbour. (I’m living in a refugee camp remember?)

2. Chopped into 18 pieces by loan sharks. (I have the “borrow money from loan sharks” face); and

Even if none of the above happens, I may accidentally blow myself up by stepping on bomb bags thrown around by naughty neighbourhood kids.

Since I blogged about Chee Ko Pek in my previous post, I was expecting several hate mails in my WordPress account from motorcyclists declaring that Chee Ko Pek-ing is part of their anatomy, but what I got was much better, and cheekier.

Seems like some Internet surfing Chee Ko Pek has mistaken our friendly neighbourhood blog for a porn site. I am not joking, take a look at the evidence below.

Users who used the search engine to look for sites with,

1. Animal sex; and

2.  Naughty girls of Batam

Are somehow stupid enough to click the link of our blog. This is what I think of Internet surfers like them,

A random blog does not contain animal sex.

Catch them on DVDs instead, just don’t turn up the volume.