The parallel parking rule

If you want to eat good food in Singapore, you have to learn to parallel park. Geylang tau huay, Bukit Timah Roti Prata, Fei Fei Wan Ton Mee...

Dammit, I've gotta learn how to parrallel park!!

ok, to qualify this statement, I CAN parallel park, just not under pressure.

Was good meeting the BMers again last week. I think the office is somehow, peversely comforting. It never changes. While there are some obvious drawbacks to spending upwards of nine hours in a confined space, I think it works for me.

Strange story time. The other day I was at a petrol kiosk when I saw two Arabic-looking men ahead of me in the queue. Thinking nothing of it, I proceeded to pay for my purchases and walked back to the van.

I looked across and I saw them slowly driving off in a beat-up old van, which until then had been blocking... an oil tanker. I'm ashamed to say that my next thoughts were immediately that this was some elaborate plot to blow up gas stations (which are interconnected, I heard).

And you know what it was I saw that reassured me? One of them sipping a Pepsi. I mean, that's not the drink of choice for someone who wants to kill himself, is it?

Victim of the media/closet racist?

I pray I am the former.