To the BATMOBILE

Monday, March 23, 2009

to sembawang, then infinity and beyond

Butlerman has had little or no knowledge of what trespassed in the outside world since his introduction into the vomit and lettuce coloured fatigues of the Singapore Armed Forces. While this is nothing new, being force-fed cardboard chicken on a daily basis, and the occasional treat of muddish chocolate, amidst other SAF's worldy pleasures, does tend to alter one's view on the world and the trivialities of hygiene and maintaining a social life.

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As much as I would like to divulge scandalous, gossip-y material on the varied colourful personalities of his dear company mates (many of whom seem to possess more than one), there are several logical reasons to prevent such a hasty decision from taking place. One being the fact that a generous proportion of them are actually bearable (moreso then some of the people I already know). Two would be the likely outcome of a less-than-pleasurable death-by-parang should one of the more... opinionated members of Mohawk Company stumble across this. Provided they have read this far without succumbing to a brain aneurysm. They too, provide lovely companionship, usually after they've tired of attempting to beat the phone numbers of my female relatives, friends and fans out of me.

Instead I ready myself for the 50-hour long journey through the centre of the Earth, past the uncharted realms of El Dorado, skirting around Timbuktu in the process (not necessarily in order - I've not touched Geography since O-levels), to reach Sembawang to engage in a ~~lifelong~~ 10-week journey of self-discovery and complex material management courses to achieve the lofty heights of becoming a 3rd Sergeant Quartermaster (one assumes that it takes another 30 odd weeks to complete the status of becoming a Master... Geddit geddit? Quartermaster..?). Ewan McGregor, played by Obi-Wan Kenobi who is of Trainspotting fame and the star of many pointless ozone-killing yet extremely cool and sexy motorcycle journeys across various incredible distances and Charley Boorman, famous for being the aforementioned Scotsman's motorcycling companion and otherwise pathetic unknown (it's true!), would be proud of the journey yet to be undertaken.

Until then, as I bemoan my miserably-failed attempts of securing a Singapore Press Holdings Scholarship (Damn you, I can write coherently and logically! Just read the above... Oh fuck), and request for various gifts and messages of condolensces from women worldwide, I need to pack my dirty great fieldpack.

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 11:24 pm
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