Dispensable
Me: Aaargh, while trying to redesign my blog I don’t have any time to update it.
Alec: I could update it in your place! “Hi! I hate everything! This band sucks squid semen!”
Me: ……
Alec: No one would know it wasn’t you.
My Funky Boyfriend
#1
(At McDonald’s)
Me: Aaaargh! You slop ketchup right onto your fries rather than using a separate ketchup serviette!
Alec: Yeah, why not?
Me: Because your ketchup doesn’t get equally distributed across the fries that way.
Alec: But why does it have to be equally distributed? Using my way, I get 2 possible distributions across the fries. The binomial distribution determines whether a fry gets ketchup or not. And then if there is ketchup, the amount of ketchup the fry gets is in a normal distribution. I’m fine with this.
Me: ……
Alec: What?
#2
(In a conversation about stag parties)
Alec: I don’t have any objections to lap-top dancing.
Ant-agonism
A dinner conversation. Context: Alec freaking out about the ants in his flat, which always seem to traumatize people from temperate countries a lot more than us from the tropics. During the day he’d managed to track down and poison two ant colonies, but had then found a third where the residents seemed worryingly resistant to annihilation.
Alec, ranting: So I bet when I get home tonight there’ll be this little ant rave going on in my living room, with their little ant glowsticks and their little ant dance moves. (Does little ant dance moves in restaurant.)
Me: And their little ant DJ, ANT-hony Pappa! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Alec: …
Me: Followed by special guests, BUGZ In The Attic! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I’m so funny! Aren’t I funny?
Alec: Why me?
Fuzzy Logic
While chatting with my mum on what she got up to while I was away:
My mum: Daddy and me went to Chinatown for the first time.
Me: That’s nice, did you have fun?
My mum: Yes! I bought Alec some cute cat coasters for his new balcony table.
Me: MUM!!??! He’s a guy! And he doesn’t have or want a cat!
My mum: That’s exactly why he needs cat coasters.
Me: ……
Spandex Party Boy
Context for the following conversation: Not content with his previous dangerous pastimes of flying, skiing, hunting and polo, Alec is currently learning boxing. Because, of course, he already has an excellent memory, and is not scatter-brained at all, and never does anything that horrifies his girlfriend with its complete gobshiteness such as losing her library books, or nearly leaving her house to walk home after midnight while his wallet, keys and handphone are still upstairs in her room, or thinking he can windsurf when he hasn’t windsurfed since he was twelve, subsequently necessitating the rescue boat, and so he can therefore CLEARLY, CRYSTAL-CLEARLY afford the potential brain damage…
Um, where was I? Oh yes – I was meaning to explain that for boxing training, he needed to buy a skipping rope the other day. In case you guys thought he was a paedophile.
Alec: When I was paying for my skipping rope at World Of Sports the cashier asked me if I needed anything else and I said, yes actually, I could do with a pair of black shorts. So he went and brought me a pair, they were black, medium sized, price was okay, so I bought them too. Trouble was, when I got home and looked at them a bit closer, they were made of this rather stretchy…
Me: Oh dear.
Alec: …spandex material.
Me: Oh God.
Alec: I tried them on and they were, well, quite skin-tight. But I thought if I wore them with a long T-shirt, maybe I could just use them for exercise in the condo compound.
Me: NOOOO! Nonononononononononono!
Alec: So I got into the lift in my shorts and with my skipping-rope and there were two other people in there and you know that habit Singaporeans have of talking about people in another language when you don’t want them to know you’re talking about them?
Me: Yeah.
Alec: Well it’s pretty bleeding obvious you’re talking about them when you stare them up and down blatantly and the conversation’s all in Chinese except for the word “skipping-rope”!
Me: Tee-hee. See, if you had a blog like everyone’s begging you to, you could write stuff like this down. Though I daresay your fans would probably ignore the point of multicultural etiquette you’re trying to make and instead just start chanting SPAN-DEX! SPAN-DEX!
Alec: A-LEX! IN SPAN-DEX!
Me: HAHAHAHAHA! A-LEX! IN SPAN-DEX! A-LEX! IN SPAN-DEX!
Alec: I was wearing a really long T-shirt with them!
Me: A-LEX! IN SPAN-DEX! A-LEX! IN SPAN-DEX!
Alec: This is why I hated primary school.
One, Two, Three, Four…
…I declare Kitten War!
If there’s a kitten cuter than Squee in the universe, I fear I may not survive seeing it.
Addendum: a slightly odd conversation I had with Alec last night.
Me: At this Kitten War site there’s a kitten that’s shooooooo cute! It’s called Squee! There’s another kitten called Sox that’s cute too but there’s something special about Squee that I really like.
Alec, eyes half glazed over: So, is Squee a black kitten?
Me, surprised: Yes! How’d you guess that?
Alec: Well, in all these contests, you always like the black one.
[To put things in context, here are some recent reality TV favourites of mine: Fantasia, LaToya, Jennifer, George (LOVED all of them in American Idol 3), Uchenna and Joyce (Amazing Race), first Anwar and then Vonzell after Anwar got boring (American Idol 4).]
Ubin Witch
I took this picture in a Pulau Ubin quarry last Sunday, but only saw the witch’s face later when I viewed the photo on my computer screen. It’s not just me who sees her, right?
* * *
Later, we tried to take photos of ourselves in another quarry and were less than pleased with the results.
Russ, who had long abandoned his shirt: I look so gay!
Me: Well, I guess the nipple doesn’t help.
Russ, noticing his photographed nipple for the first time: Aaagh!
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Russ: STOP LAUGHING AT MY NIPPLE!
It echoed across the calm waters as the sunset bathed everything in gold.
I Love The Smell Of Name Maul In The Morning
Mauling #1:
Alec: So who’s at Zouk on Friday night? Chicks In Chains, is it?
Me: Speed. Chicks On Speed.
Alec: Oh. Heh. Freudian slip, sorry.
Mauling #2:
Alec, pointing to the big screen in Raffles Place: Oh, it’s that guy again. Michael something. Balloon. Bubble.
Me: Boo-blay. Michael Buble.
Alec: Oh.
Me: Why would anyone be called Michael Bubble?
Alec: I thought maybe it was a wacky stage name.
I live in fear as to what the man will maul next. One would think that for someone from a country where people have names like Caoilfhionn, he would be a bit better with simple English stuff.
Maybe I should tell him we’re seeing “Flashmaster Grand” on Saturday, just as an experiment.
Johnny Be Adulterous
While we’re still being frivolous and lusty (music posts which take themselves entirely too seriously are IMMINENT, be warned), this is from last night, out of nowhere.
Alec: I must say, if you ever meet Johnny Depp, full permission. Total green light. I admit he’s really hot.
Me: And you waited an entire 24 hours [the time elapsed since the combined sensuality of Johnny and a Scottish accent writ large in the Finding Neverland trailer reduced me to a babbling horny wreck even before the movie about sex research] to tell me this? I could be on a plane now!
Addendum: From earlier tonight –
Me: I did a blog entry about how you’ll let me cheat on you with Johnny Depp.
Alec: You do realize I’d cheat on you with Johnny Depp too, right?
One thing is leading to another. Next thing we’ll both be on a plane in hot pursuit of a threesome with Johnny Depp. Poor Johnny.
Ya Think?
Me: I just don’t get how she keeps raving on and on about her boyfriend, but she never makes fun of him! What’s up with that?
Alec: I don’t know, maybe she loves and respects the guy?