Everyone knows that mbs prides itself on its aesthetic.
The sturdy neo-Japanese tables and baby stools, the dim lighting, the soothing jazz playing.
Yesterday, someone brought up the idea that all the Mbs staff were good looking.
I thought about it for a while, and disagreed. However, I realised that no one is not-good-looking. As in, we were all slightly above average at the very least.
well except for one girl.
Her cousin and friend both stared at her like she was daft.
I consulted gerri.
"well, no one's ugly"
she said with customary tact.
"above average lah har"
more about mbs
well, today we had a heart to heart with one of the managers. or rather, we had a bitch session.
and well, I think I just committed political suicide.
I mean, I reckon that I love everyone, and I'm working for the people who work there. However, there's a political undertone I don't trust.
MY SOUP!!!!!
I was making a delicious soup, the way I love it at home.
Chicken, potato, lots of “dissolved” onions (I’m sure there’s a term I haven’t found for it yet), carrot, and salt. And garlic to taste. I love garlic, so I went the whole hog.
MMMMM.
Then I had to go to work.
Because we get off work at 11.30 and The Boss made us do some crazy ceiling vaccuming I was in the mood for more food than just soup. So we went to Supper Inn again, and when I came home at 2am, the soup was OVERCOOKED.
It looks more like watery stew now. All brown and gooky. ARGHHHHHH.
and the taste isn't the usual stuff. the onion taste is so strong.
But I am le tired!
the heat fries my brain cells. I swear.
No matter how long I've been here, dry heat still gets me
EVERY SINGLE TIME.
it
fries my brain cells and makes them pile up
like bodies in a war movie
and then it causes a massive headache.
while sapping me and turning me into a
prune
and slapping on moisturiser only helps so much
and of course,
it makes me
le tired.
nomad
like the rest of me, it seems even my writing tendencies seem to crave a move every now and then.
I guess I'm tired. Tired of too many readers. Too many reciprocations I have to reply to, nice things to say to their posts.
Like a mutual masturbation of egos.
And I realised it was the blog platform I was with. And that over here, in blogger, I am under no duress whatsoever to reply.
So it's going to be articles there, and everything here.
Hello world.
