Hokkien Noodles and a Shirt
After my rant about all this Singaporean food in my last post, and coping with craving for the past few months, I finally got off my ass and cooked Singaporean Hokkien Noodles! I called my mum, asked the recipe, had Simon over to help (he took the photos).
My housemate didn't know i had this dinner planned, so he marinated some chicken in the afternoon. Then he realized i was cooking for everyone he asked me to cook the chicken too. So what i got was:
Singapore Hokkien Noodles (authentic style)
Stir Fried Chicken Breast in Onion and Chinese White Wine
Looks authentic enough? I was so so full that night. Oh it was Saturday night when this happened.
-------------------
This topic isn't very appetizing. If you are extremely averse to vomit, please stop reading.
After a few disparate events, i have come to a conclusion that this shirt:
is cursed.
I really like this shirt. I've had quite some fun in this shirt. However, events that happened on Friday night triggered a recollection that leads me to believe that this shirt has been hexed, voodoo-ed, and is generally "suay". At least when drinking is involved that is.
Why do I say this? Because on Friday night, i went clubbing with Adam, GJ and Ti-an. I had a sambuca jedi shot, 2 vodka shots, a tequila shot, a pint of beer, and two damn strong Long Island Teas (I counted 6 shots went into them in total). However, I was once a student of the great Jason Riley, alcohol consumer of great renown. After intensive study and tutelage over the course of 5 years, and the last few months of home education, this night I took the role the great Sir Riley used to play all the while. The indomitable chaperone. Adam however had not gotten the priviledged cultivation I had amassed.
So as the evening deepened, everyone got sloshed. Oh I was sloshed too. But the training had created a zone of complete alertness and concern for friends amidst the haze of expanded relaxation intoxication brought.
When it was time to leave, we shared a cab and got off one by one. GJ got off first so he missed the whole adventure. You see, with Ti-an in the front seat and Adam next to me in the back, the nearly comatose Adam reacted strongly to the moving vehicle. He was fine and conscious barely, but i trusted his swaggering steps to be safe. The motion of the automobile however caused his highly stressed body to forcefully reject the liquid and semi-digested contents of his dinner. It was a merlion rarely seen in my long experiance of watching people spew.
The stream burst forth in two short spasms, hitting the ceiling and his chest, before warming up into a 4 second long continuous gush. There was a piece of unchewed chicken skin from the curry he cooked for us earlier in the evening. A short break for breath cut in before a second, longer 7 second stream erupted. By now the cabbie had stopped and during this long 7 seconds, Adam tried to get out of the car to direct the exodus onto the road. I was sitting curbside but I had not gotten out fast enough. Though by now my bottom was damp from the pool on the seat, my late maneuver caught half the avalanche at the waist level as Adam tumbled out my side of the car.
Somehow, I didn't feel disgusted at all. I've seen so much of this, and done the act very often during my time too. I wiped myself with a tissue and what i could of the cab. We paid an extra 40 bucks to the cabbie as an apology and cleaning fees. I saw Adam home safely, and went home myself after he cleaned up and put himself to bed. I laughed and joked with him and made sure he was ok.
The point however was that i was wearing the above featured shirt. When i got home at 5.30am, i took it off and mulled over what it had been through. This was the very same shirt that....
*cue flashback sequence watery dissolve
It was early 2005 after a crazy night at Double O, Mohammud Sultan. The great Sir Jason Riley was in the company of the great Keith Teo, a drinker of comparable greatness. I went to Far East Plaza after quite a few drinks with them to meet John and Johnathan to knock off a bottle of Jim Beam. 3 hours later an extremely rarely seen drunk Jason pulls up to bring me home, Keith the responsible driver having taken care of Jason. I got in the back seat and we were off.
I had rarely seen the master Jason so drunk before. We were running on the AYE at 80km/h, windows down. I was pretty drunk but wasn't going to puke. Out of a sudden Jason spewed out the window.
His barf flew out of his window, and at 80km/h, flew into my window in the back seat. It left a silhouette of clean leather seat and rear wind screen. My face, spectacles, and entire upper body was coated.
We dropped Jason off fine, my brother Karl helped Keith clean up, Keith has a bitch of a time getting rid of the smell. He found his elixir in medical disinfectant the next day, from the army medical center.
Can you guess now what shirt i was wearing when this happened? Ten points for you, you are correct. My very beloved yellow flowery polo tee of questionable sexuality. With two similar events linking to this attire, one cannot help but suspect a curse has been laid down on this very piece of clothing. And they say all things happen in threes. Two down, one more to go.
To break this vicious cycle of "spew me" written on my body, Sidney Koh shall no longer wear this shirt to a drinking situation again. ever. amen.
My housemate didn't know i had this dinner planned, so he marinated some chicken in the afternoon. Then he realized i was cooking for everyone he asked me to cook the chicken too. So what i got was:
Singapore Hokkien Noodles (authentic style)
Stir Fried Chicken Breast in Onion and Chinese White Wine
Looks authentic enough? I was so so full that night. Oh it was Saturday night when this happened.
-------------------
This topic isn't very appetizing. If you are extremely averse to vomit, please stop reading.
After a few disparate events, i have come to a conclusion that this shirt:
is cursed.
I really like this shirt. I've had quite some fun in this shirt. However, events that happened on Friday night triggered a recollection that leads me to believe that this shirt has been hexed, voodoo-ed, and is generally "suay". At least when drinking is involved that is.
Why do I say this? Because on Friday night, i went clubbing with Adam, GJ and Ti-an. I had a sambuca jedi shot, 2 vodka shots, a tequila shot, a pint of beer, and two damn strong Long Island Teas (I counted 6 shots went into them in total). However, I was once a student of the great Jason Riley, alcohol consumer of great renown. After intensive study and tutelage over the course of 5 years, and the last few months of home education, this night I took the role the great Sir Riley used to play all the while. The indomitable chaperone. Adam however had not gotten the priviledged cultivation I had amassed.
So as the evening deepened, everyone got sloshed. Oh I was sloshed too. But the training had created a zone of complete alertness and concern for friends amidst the haze of expanded relaxation intoxication brought.
When it was time to leave, we shared a cab and got off one by one. GJ got off first so he missed the whole adventure. You see, with Ti-an in the front seat and Adam next to me in the back, the nearly comatose Adam reacted strongly to the moving vehicle. He was fine and conscious barely, but i trusted his swaggering steps to be safe. The motion of the automobile however caused his highly stressed body to forcefully reject the liquid and semi-digested contents of his dinner. It was a merlion rarely seen in my long experiance of watching people spew.
The stream burst forth in two short spasms, hitting the ceiling and his chest, before warming up into a 4 second long continuous gush. There was a piece of unchewed chicken skin from the curry he cooked for us earlier in the evening. A short break for breath cut in before a second, longer 7 second stream erupted. By now the cabbie had stopped and during this long 7 seconds, Adam tried to get out of the car to direct the exodus onto the road. I was sitting curbside but I had not gotten out fast enough. Though by now my bottom was damp from the pool on the seat, my late maneuver caught half the avalanche at the waist level as Adam tumbled out my side of the car.
Somehow, I didn't feel disgusted at all. I've seen so much of this, and done the act very often during my time too. I wiped myself with a tissue and what i could of the cab. We paid an extra 40 bucks to the cabbie as an apology and cleaning fees. I saw Adam home safely, and went home myself after he cleaned up and put himself to bed. I laughed and joked with him and made sure he was ok.
The point however was that i was wearing the above featured shirt. When i got home at 5.30am, i took it off and mulled over what it had been through. This was the very same shirt that....
*cue flashback sequence watery dissolve
It was early 2005 after a crazy night at Double O, Mohammud Sultan. The great Sir Jason Riley was in the company of the great Keith Teo, a drinker of comparable greatness. I went to Far East Plaza after quite a few drinks with them to meet John and Johnathan to knock off a bottle of Jim Beam. 3 hours later an extremely rarely seen drunk Jason pulls up to bring me home, Keith the responsible driver having taken care of Jason. I got in the back seat and we were off.
I had rarely seen the master Jason so drunk before. We were running on the AYE at 80km/h, windows down. I was pretty drunk but wasn't going to puke. Out of a sudden Jason spewed out the window.
His barf flew out of his window, and at 80km/h, flew into my window in the back seat. It left a silhouette of clean leather seat and rear wind screen. My face, spectacles, and entire upper body was coated.
We dropped Jason off fine, my brother Karl helped Keith clean up, Keith has a bitch of a time getting rid of the smell. He found his elixir in medical disinfectant the next day, from the army medical center.
Can you guess now what shirt i was wearing when this happened? Ten points for you, you are correct. My very beloved yellow flowery polo tee of questionable sexuality. With two similar events linking to this attire, one cannot help but suspect a curse has been laid down on this very piece of clothing. And they say all things happen in threes. Two down, one more to go.
To break this vicious cycle of "spew me" written on my body, Sidney Koh shall no longer wear this shirt to a drinking situation again. ever. amen.
Sid found concrete manifestation for abstract/complicated/foolish/affected/inebrieted musings at 11:23 PM
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