A day with Chiff
» Written on July 30, 2008 at 10:43 PM «
Is probably less productive than just electing to stay at home and staying in front of thetube, but protocol sometimes dictates that we be slaves to this phenomenon known as socializing, which I believe I have touched upon previously.
It pretty much began with him wanting to find a way out of his current situation, which you may describe as unsavoury. He (like me!) is currently conscripted enlisted in the Singapore Armed Forces, which, a friend of mine would have you believe, is actually a front for the Imperial Army.
Regardless, he managed to get through the Basic Military Training (again, like me!) and moved on to the School of Infantry SPECialists (SISPEC), a colloquailism no doubt invented by insecure people who pride themselves sorely on their physical condition.
Now, he wants out.
Oh wait, it's just your head.
He finished his specialist course, and was well on his way to becoming a full-fledged sarge when he decided to drop out of the course due to his leg, which had been nagging away at his endurance for quite a while. Long story short, he dropped out, his leg still hurts. and now whispers are reaching him, whispers which bespeak of great trouble. Trouble such as having to re-course, the very prospect of which would stab icy daggers of fear into any man’s heart.
He wants out. And it just so happens that I know certain contacts who could prove useful in achieving such a goal.
But of course, Chiff has learned well. He is suspicious. Also he can’t navigate his way out of his bedroom worth a damn. So I just had to arrange for a meet-up. And of course, the Dark Knight just had to be watched right after that. Which was pretty good, by the way.
Lunch came first, of course. I suggested something extravagant, upon which his reply was a local sushi restaurant. A local, cheap sushi restaurant. He’s lucky I didn’t call my personal Boeing to drop off a couple tons of gold bars on top of his head for such an insult.
However, sushi is not the main point of this post, though. Oh no.
You know those arcade grabbing machine thingies you see in arcades? The ones where a guy and a girl will huddle around, the guy trying his best to get that sweet little cuddly Care Bear for his furiously giggling sex toy, blowing through a couple of bucks in the process before finally giving up but still laughing about it anyway?
Yeah, apparently Chiff loves the damn things too.
Chiff contemplates a decision.
The claws of fate inch ever so slowly towards his prize.
I really don’t understand how he actually managed to justify vaporizing four bucks on such playthings to his misfiring hunk of neural machinery that he still refers to as a brain, but then again, I’m not really sure I want to.
Know this, though: he failed utterly in his attempts to even claim a single prize, rendering his hopes to ashes, his dreams to earth, and in so doing, reduced a man to, well, a poorer man.
I mean, seriously, four bucks? That’s like your lunch right there, dude.
Anyway, I managed to get a decent portrait of him when he wasn’t actively trying to look like a fag in front of the camera.
Finally, an unposed shot.
There you have it. Just another day with Chiff, defender of stupid vices and horribly mediocre games like Rome: Total War. Also unbearably vomit-inducing regal-looking.
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