28/2/2006
I deal only with the truth on this blog. Like when I say I'm dating Jessica Alba or that I can bench press 10 times my own weight, you know them's facts. Conversely, when I say something outrageous like me not being good in bed or having 200MB worth of porn in my laptop, you know I'm pulling your leg. I mean, everyone knows a real man needs to own at least 10GB. And I, am a real man.
Having said that, what I'm about to tell you may seem like some elaborate attempt at concocting an urban legend, but I kid you not. This really happened. Scouts honour. Look, I've even got photographic evidence. Judge for yaself.
So I had a cough last week. No biggie. Went to the neighbourhood clinic to get some medication. Painkillers, antibiotics and good ol' cough mixture. Nothing unusual. Went straight to work after that.
So I get back to the office and proceeded to the office pantry to take my medicine. Washed a spoon, checked the label, '2 teaspoons after meal'. Great. Poured a dollop and was about to take my first teaspoon when I spotted something at the lip of the bottle. At first glance it looked like a thin steel wire. I thought, shit, did the doctor leave some sort of mixing utensil in the bottle? I immediately discarded the teaspoon of medicine I had in my hand, fearing contamination.
Put down the bottle and the darn thing slips back into the thick, black solution. So I start turning the bottle upside down, downside up, trying to locate the steel wire. Couldn't find it. Okay, since the medicine's probably already bad, I might as well empty the contents, bring it back to the doctor and make a complaint. So I start pouring the cough mixture slowly down the sink, hoping to catch the wire just before it gets out.
True enough, the wire reappears. But ... strange. What a weird looking mixing utensil. Looks like it has a funny little head, haha. Oh wait. Looks like it has little legs to go with it too. What the ... feelers?!
HOLY F**KING CRAP! IT'S A CENTIPEDE!!!
Ladies and gentlemen, I have a centipede in my cough mixture! And I was about to ingest it!
What the f**k. I begin to pour the contents out faster now. Holy crap, little detached feelers start emptying out as well. WTF. WTF. Finally the bottle is almost empty. And there, in its full segmented glory, was Mr Centipede. As shocked as I was, the first thing that came to my mind was to take pictures of it. So here:
Click for closeup!
(Viewer discretion is advised due to graphic nature of content)
You tell me?!
So I drove straight back to the clinic, empty bottle in tow, thanking God that I didn't take any of the medicine. Got back to the clinic, politely requested to speak to the doctor after he sees his current patient, and took a seat. Then it was my turn.
Me: Hey doc, I think you should take a look at this.
Doc: Why hello there, what happened here? Did you spill the bottle?
Me: Err, take a closer look. I think it's some sort of bug.
Doc: (Closer look is taken.)
Me: You mind telling me what that is?
Doc: Oh gosh, I'm so sorry about this. Let me call my nurses.
So he pages for his staff and shows them the bottle. Eyes turn wide in disbelief, and everybody starts saying they don't understand how a centipede could've gotten into the bottle. Doctor instructs nurse to check the main bottle of medicine and to call the supplier in Singapore. Apologises again, profusely at that.
Me: No worries doc, just be more careful in future.
Doc: Yes, yes, of course. I think we'll have to start using a filter when dispensing cough mixtures.
Me: Yeah, you do that.
Doc: I'm really sorry about this. Here, take another bottle.
Me: ... umm ... could you give me some tablets instead?
As offended as you think I should be, aside from the initial shock, I was more amused than upset by the whole thing. I mean, for my money, not enough doctors administer centipedes in their cough medicine nowadays.
The bunny speaks the truth. I mean, that's me right there. From the twitching eyelids down to the '1' on the chest. Everyone else really has had more sex than me.
15/2/2006 What? You want an update? You can't f**king handle an update, I tells ya. Here's one anyway.
Since we last spoke, Chinese New Year came and went, Valentine's Day came and f**ked off, and I got into some totally unnecessary girl trouble (note to self: being nice in the 21st century = being stupid. So wise up). I'll tell you more about it when we meet in person. Let's move on to happier subjects.
Yes I heard you. I'm still working on Shtikman's Top Whatever of 2005, no worries. Seriously, there's still a whole lot of albums from the past year that I haven't gotten around to listening. If you want a good, comprehensive list, sit down and shut up cos I'll get to it soon. Aww c'mon, don't get offended, I'm just kidding. Just, well, take a seat and keep quiet. No you c'mon.
The February '06 issue of Spin has a good little paragraph that sums up pretty accurately what I think of all these NME-approved British bands (Arctic Monkeys, Snow Patrol ... remember The Datsuns?). Checkit:
"British tradition dictates that bands occasionally appear out of thin air complete with decent tuneage and loads of random praise. The mother country never tires of instant music-critic declarations about how some skinny dudes are the most brilliant things since French riots, even though said group still have milk in the fridge that they bought when they were anonymous – and it's still drinkable."
Hah!
In other music news, although not happy news in the least bit, one of my fave hip-hop producers Jay Dee aka J Dilla passed away recently. His new album on Stones Throw Records – Donuts – is a sad reminder that Jay Dee could've given us so much more. Unfortunately he had to go before his time. My first exposure to Dilla was probably through his remix of The Pharcyde's 'Runnin'. I've been a fan since then and have followed his work closely and obsessively, something I do only for two other artists, Madlib and this other shadowy figure (you tell me). So Dilla, R.I.P.
What? You want an update? You can't f**king handle an update, I tells ya. Here's one anyway.
