The Malaysian in me is always surfacing in situations where he is not needed. Happens more and more often nowadays. Must be Mahatir and his charade.

So I finished working. Puahing flyers. Easy job dey! Sit there, smoke 1/4 pack of ciggarettes, play pool, go dance DDR and Para-Para then come back get money. Next time work I must also like that. Pay you to smoke! Like Philip Morris got sponsor!

Then I went down to Paya Labar. Eh BTW Paya Labar is one hellhole man. Chee bye 1 build road here build road there. Kan ni na I every Sunday pass by there build road. Nah beh build dunno how many years liao still build. Nah beh build road to Rome also no need so slow. Yah where was I. Ok. Then I went down to that shithole that is called Teo Industries Building. Eh Benny the road is called SHAW Road not SHORE Road! Went there and met my soulmates Chris and Regan, who not so incidentally provide the means for my continued intake of tar and ethanol. Did some shit there, and went home.

BUT HERE IS WHERE THE ADVENTURE STARTS! The paragraphs above are like the prologue of a novel arh. Must make you all xim yang yang then want to read. Boh bian must practice journalism liao Law cannot study GPA too low.

Yah where was I. Ok. The Malaysian in me surfaced. The dumb, smoker, Marco Polo wanna-be side of me decided to take a bus back to Tampines. The Singaporean, spend-thrift, asshole side of me wanted to take a taxi. But boh bian la. Lifestlye expensive. The Singaporean decided to take a leaf out of our Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong's Bible(May He live forever) and let the Malaysian win. So KJ took a bus.

BAD MISTAKE FUCKHEAD, BAD MISTAKE. The dumb side of KJ took over and he took bus 22. Yup, bus 22. So he travelled on a bus, pretending he was on a camel, meeting many exotic ladies and mysterious old men along the way, and earned a fortune trading spices and goods to the people of the East. Unfortunately again, he followed Christopher Colombus' ship waves instead of some other respectable adventurers. So, the Malaysian KJ turned up in Bishan.

BISHAN! WHICH RESPECTABLE EASTERNER WILL GO THERE UNLESS YOU HAVE SOME PRESSING NEED OVER THERE?! THE PEOPLE OF THE NORTH ARE BABARIANS! I NEED TO GET MY CLANSMEN DOWN TO WAGE A CRUSADE ON THOSE HERETICS! CLENASE! PURGE! KILL!

So KJ wandered along the streets of Bishan, a foreigner in a strange land, far away from home. Luckily, KJ had a contact in Bishan. A lady named Deborah. So he contacted her. And she told KJ there wasn't any bus back home.

Home is where the heart is, but KJ's heart is certainly not in Bishan.

So, KJ couldn't find a tavern in Bishan, nor a stable where he could spend his night in. Then the Singaporean part in him roused from what seemed like delayed alcohol slumber. A mighty battle in his brain ensued, in which the Singaporean part won. A thought rang in his head like a church bell that was rung by the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

He was living in the 21st Century.

All the illusions of riding on camels and exotic ladies disappeared faster then a djinni on steriods. Holding on his possessions tighty(which consist of only 4 pieces of paper), he took a train home.

The end.

Yay.