Nancy Drew: The Mystery Of Miss Boo Ah Chiang (Part 2)

Gosh, So First World Living For The 20% Of Singaporeans (And Who Are These "Singaporeans" Anyway?)
I watched the news today at 9.30pm. There was a segment on upcoming waterfront living and it got me pretty excited. There was gonna be more land released around the Marina Bay area for high-end and high-rise residential living.

Thay says a lot. Nothing at all for public housing projects. If 80% of us live in the heartlands, what does this speak of the government?

They care only for material gains in terms of land sale and for the super-rich.

How are we to lay claim to being First World if it is not First World living standards for the majority of Singaporeans?

And we are not even asking for opulence or frills. Just plain good old common-sense in laying out and designing the projects in very practical terms. Not to mention environmentally correct and conserving efforts in building them around water and greens for the obvious benefits of natural light and natural ventilation, among others.

Yes Singapore counts among a few other nations in the world who has produced more than its fair share of millionaires in 2006, so goes a study.

But Singapore does not mean Singaporeans right? So who are these millionaires? Singaporean or Singaporean Singaporean or residents or foreigners?

Seems to me like the vast majority of us are the ones who are living at the bottom of the heap or somewhere in between the poor and the middle-class. A very poor middle-class indeed.

The "super-scales" are probably not one of us.

I Can Feel Miss Boo Here At Home (I Am Not Kidding, As I Blog This Imaginatively, I Am Having A Bad Case of The GooseBumps, Real Goosy And Bumpy)
Being the real sleuth I am, I got absolutely not a trail on Miss Boo. Not a picture, not an age, not a single biodata.

I began to think what Nancy Drew would do under circumstances such as these. I thought real hard and then it hit me.

I sat down and sobbed my sorry heart out, what else.

Note: The rest of this is is all made up but the goose-bumpy thingy isn't
But wait, today as I sat on the couch watching the Tyra Banks show (Oh God, she had such an exciting show on how sex appeal or looks sells), I felt Miss Boo. I seriously thought I did.

I went into a seance.

Moi (shaking violently): "Yes, yes. Miss Boo! I feel you. Your presence. Where are you? Yes, in the kitchen. You are here. You are chopping fine parsely. Yes. I see it now. You are preparing dinner for your poor little old self. You are cooking Hainanese chicken rice? Far out, my favourite dish, what do you know!"

Moi(suddenly switching mode): "Wait! I sense something here. On the couch. Yes Miss Boo. You are sitting pretty here. Something is happening. Oh Lord! I see someone! What is "he" doing here? O My God! Oh My God! (wakes up from seance)"

Stay tuned for another exciting episode of "Nancy Drew: The Mystery Of Miss Boo Ah Chiang" where we will try to answer the unsolved question of : How did you die, Miss Boo?

Confrontation
I confronted Auntie Galen yesterday. It was most opportune as she and I happened to cross path at home.

I asked if she knew what those mud-stained flaks in the washer were coming from. I already have two postulates of my own. One, they had been the result of previous washes which got stuck somewhere inside the washer. Two, the flaks were really the grime and gunk inside the washer after those few years of wear and tear.

Guess what Auntie Galen's reply was. Dead cockroaches and lizards.

And I do know for a fact, she has a terrific voice and way of speaking which shuts out what you are trying to put across to her. So I have to raise my voice a few octaves just to compete.

She just won't listen to you. She insists on her own point of view.

I mean I am certainly not lying.

It Is More Than This
If physical lust and sex were the be all and end all, I could do it with almost anyone.

Even that male mannequin (spell this too, Spell Cast) or inflatable doll with developed genitalia or even the geminoid (human robot) who look, talk, walk and just do about anything as well as its human originator.

If I wanna fuck somebody, I got to develop feelings first. Feelings, then love, then attraction, then touch, then FUCK! Get it? Fucktard?