Monster truck ambulances

Been exactly eleven months since I've returned home. I've long stopped converting back to USD, but I'm not fully immersed yet, and I guess I don't really want to be either. I was on my way to the Paragon today (haha but not to shit), waiting to cross at the lights and observed an ambulance - lights flashing, sirens blarring - trying to squirm past a bunch of cars. Not that the cars hadn't moved aside - they had. But were still speeding along and making lane changes thus making for a very wary ambulance driver. (Who wouldn't beware the taxi driver who crosses 3 lanes in front of a wailing ambulance to tag the other side of the pavement?)

You're supposed to pull-over. That means STOP you FUCK HEADS.

Then again, maybe you're not all that dumb. You recognize that if you did stop, guy in the WRX behind you who can't decide whether to ride the ambulance's wake or overtake it will probably make a high speed accident of himself, yourself, and the retarded black bird (mynahs...) on the road, resulting in the need for another 2 ambulances to endure a similar ordeal and a probable road kill.

Ambulances should use monster trucks. Maybe they could burn regular gasoline instead of that lethal nitro-methane dragster fuel but, you see, its a cultural thing and other drivers won't fuck off unless you're riding on rubbers as tall as a bus.
Not to say this place is all bad. Amidst our breed of courtesy campaigners we managed to build a place as cool as the Esplanade. And you can still find love :)

Sigh yet another angsty post from me that highlights more than ever the need for me to go on holiday - which I am doing very soon. The reflection of today's sizzling sun was so pretty against shiny spiny leaves in the wind on Orchard Road, flickering light; flaunting life. So dazzling that if my da jie was looking I'd worry that she'd get a migraine.
The same sight has a different impact on me - almost instantly I feel like I'm in Phuket already, playing Bob the Builder sand edition with my toes and getting solicited by banana sellers.

Beach bliss must be good for banana sales.

I fly off Friday and its becoming the case that my mind's linking everything somehow to this upcoming horleeedaye. I've got a song in my head and its well fused to that horleeedaye feeling. Strangely enough, however, its called Earthquake Weather. Anybody like Beck?