The following conversation took place in Doha, during the transition flight to england. Chiawyee and onyee just, for some inexplicable reason, while promoted to business class in the first flight from singapore to doha, and exploited the privilege with very little scruples. (onyee spilt orange juice on the seat even before the flight began. She says *protests* that it is accidental.)We were also smuggling philana's truckload of food that her mama gave us. The flight was delayed because the airconditioning is not working on the plane.

We figured our current situation was due to bad karma, as a form of payback to our business class seats

CY: Eh, onyee, even if its pay back time, isn't this a little harsh? Considering we didn't even ask for it.

OY: EXACTLY. And they're kinda punishing EVERYONE along with us. Eh. That's why i'm using CAPS a lot of times. This is a sign of frustration. ERGH.

CY: Yea, I just had a thought. If we are paying back for the business seats, what is everyone else paying back for? My first bet for the family beside us is noisy kids.
(Really, really, really noisy kids.)

(From here onwards, the angsty evil twins vent their frustration on the non existant philana, who is anxiously wondering whether the twins are dead or alive in London)

OY: Dear Phi, we had a grand adventure today before we even SAW London. That's right, not STEPPED INTO London but not even saw london from the plane. It started out well with a mysterious upgrade to Business seats. (which we may be inexplicably paying for now.)

CY: Eh, phi, our resentment towards you making us carry so many things --> in particular, two HEAVY twilight books is rising because of this incident. Beware.

OY: Phiphi, phiphi, phiphi, we love yoiu very much for accomodating us and showing us around london while we're there, but...did you really need... MOTH BALLS? can understand Kuih Lapis and the strange meat thing, but moth balls?

CY: Phiphi, if they strip our bags at the checkpoint to dig our your tincan of stewed beef, how shall we ever live with the embaressment? By the way, onyee's father advises that we call your sambal chilli, your ikan bilis and your ginseng all as pickled onions, on the basis that the custom officiers probably won't know what ikan bilis is, but love pickled onion. This may allow your food to pass, or they may steal it since they like pickled onions. Please don't blame us if anything happens.

OY: Actually, I think the only thing that is safe is your kuih lapis, since they recognise cakes... right?

CY: But they don't know what is kuih lapis. So we must call it pickled onion cake.

OY: Sounds disgusting right? I can't even think of eating that. God. okay phiphi, if nothing gets through the customs, we promise when you come home we can treat you to as many ikan bilis, stewed beef and kuih lapis as you want, okay? (CY: ginseng mysteriously disappeared) Just don't kill us if they steal and eat it all.

CY: Actually, i just had a thought. If mine and onyee's hypothesis are correct, then the only thing that can get through is.... YOUR TWILIGHT BOOKS? PRESPOSTEROUS!

OY: OMG SHIT. i can't even dignify that with a proper response.

CY: Never mind. I can. Phi, given that you live in the land of literature, don't you find it weird that you need moi to bring you a book? I know what onyee will say --> Twilight ain't literature.

OY: well, duh, to call twilight literature is to summon the apocalypse. The world will END i tell you, But, actually, phi has a point la, she just wants to check it out so don't buy it lar. I came across a horrifying fact that in singapore libraries all twilight books are like loaned out and booked for ages. WHAT IS TO BE FOR OUR YOUTH.

(CY: A sudden return of dignified response by onyee)

CY: (wished onyee will stop being so harsh because she is one of the said youth, though she had since gained enlightment.) EH, phi, we read this in a travel brochure for singapore

1) Merlion: With its fish body a reminder that complacency could see that country revert to being an insignificant fishing village and its lion hear responsible for singapore's moniker--> Lion city (WE laughed so loudly here)

2) The introduction:'Lion City'... it's a stickler for cleanliness and zero tolerance image... friendly island. (So oxymoronic)

3) people apparently bungi jump all the time at clarke quay. (We know that bungi jumping machine is losing business, cause on one in his right mind would take that thing in the Singgapore's heat.)

OY: So there are apparently places in Singapore that we don't know about, or more like, activities that are outdated. People who fake bungi jump do so at night. yup, fake bungi jump. i wonder if a newer edition will...

(Announcement came on. A rude interruption on to onyee's thoughts.)

THE AIRCRAFT CANNOT FLY

ZOMG, we now have to wait for another craft. Well, better that not flying at all today.

CY: Definitely payback time. I swear its karma.

OY: But we didn't do anything!... spill orange juice?

CY:.... onyee~ it's your fault!

Got on the plane. Currently in philana's room, London. All the various forms of pickled onions made it across as well. Hallelujah.

The Attack of the Crocs

During the long hiatus when I disappeared off to Muggerland, Metro, for reasons unknown, held another one of its ludicrous Crocs sales.

Following what appears to be the start of a disturbing tradition, the parents rushed down to the store in eager anticipation to pile the house with more of those horrific appendages, abandoning their two children to the ignomity of having instant noodles for lunch.

The good news was, by the time the parents reached, the number of slippers had already dwindled to a low number (where did they go to? It is one of the mysteries of life.) The bad news was, by the time the parents reached, the number of slippers had dwindled to a low number.

They came back with three pairs of slippers, looking distinctively disatisfied. The first slippers I pulled out were ugly; the next two shocked me.

'What,' I said, holding the slippers in between my thumb and index for fear of diseasing them, 'is this?'

'Crocs.' said mama.

'Yes,I noticed. I mean, where did you choose this colour?'

I will not put the picture up, because everyone will become colourblind if they see it. Instead, very succintly, I will tell you that it is a lurid purplish pink colour, with a neon quality to it.

Then I pulled out the third slipper, which, saved for the size, was hideously identical to the second.

'This feels a little like deja vu.'

'Do you like it?' said papa proudly.

'Papa, if you don't want me to hurt your feelings, maybe you shouldn't ask me this question.'

'It's qing li slippers!' (You know couple tees? Yea, my parents apparently developed their own version, called couple crocs.)

I stared hard at them. 'You are kidding.'

'Of course not,' said papa obliviously. 'We are going to wear them out for dinner later.'

'If you do that, papa, I will walk at least 10 metres behind you and mama.'

'What's wrong? I thought you like pink!'

'Oh my, don't insult me. I like pink. This slipper hasn't even got the grace to decide whether its pink or purple.'

'Oh,' said papa thoughtfully. 'There was a red one...'

'Then why didn't you get it?'

'Mama said this colour was nicer.'

Mama did? My mama, whom I seek opinions on for all my clothes, said this colour was nice? My fashion adviser? This is omnimous.

'Do you want it instead?' said mama helpfully. 'You are looking for a pair of new slipper after all.'

'It's ok, i am not desperate mama.'

I prayed, of course, that this was a very bad joke, and the slippers were to be used for the toilet or something. But later on, both my parents were walking ahead of me proudly, their slippers practically glowing in the dark for all to see. At this rate of crocs buying, I predict we will have enough crocs to last for the next ten years.

Oh my god.