To the BATMOBILE

Sunday, December 14, 2008

midnight madness

To the uninitiated, the spiced XXL Chicken from the Cathay's Taiwanese Shilin-or-something-like-that Street Snacks would sound somewhat tantalising. Only the well-experienced culinary veteran would steer well clear of this particular and innocent-looking death trap. Butlerman does not fall under the said category. The consequences are both painful and... painful. Indigestion is never a pretty sight. The ominous growl that follows an unwelcome meal usually heralds the sensation that the Wile E Coyote's decided to test out an Acme rocket that's wedged in your sphincter. Someway or another there is always a detestable old auntie with rotting teeth who always notices your obvious discomfort and cackles in glee as she observes the vultures slowly circle. You're forced into a stumbling gait, in attempt to maximise comfort and gastric stability whilst rushing for the safety of the closest toilet.

The true leading cause of indigestion

Your situation is of course usually worsened by the fact the toilet is in severe disrepair, or populated by man-eating cockroaches, or better yet, you're stuck on a crowded bus. Movement is not recommended, because you're hemmed in by a couple of cosplay gothic Ah Lians, fresh from a night out at Plaza Singapura (only attractive to serial perverts/Ah Bengs) - physical contact will undoubtedly transmit some form of fatal cosplay disease (symptoms include uncontrollable pouting and disproportionately enlarged eyes). In immense pain, and without an avenue of escape, you eventually explode, showering everyone with the remnants of a once-tasty meal and leaving an embarassing smell behind.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the unenviable life of Butlerman, as he steadily navigates his way through the seasonal festivities. It must be said, however, in the wake of the exams that being bored has never felt so good in my life. Since then I've been attempting to cultivate some form of facial hair to the mild amusement of both my parents and a couple of primary school kids in my block who like to giggle at the man-boy with pubic hair on his chin. I take small comfort in the fact, judging by careful observation of his gene pool and current appearances, he be forever condemned to having a fat face. So there. And I hope he gets acne.

This is Siglap's resident superhero Butlerman fighting crime (and boredom), and losing spectacularly.

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 5:21 am
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