Hotter than a witch in Salem

I still haven't gotten used to the weather. I think I need to invest in some presentable shorts which do not show (a) my ass (b) my tattoo (c) my ass AND my tattoo at the same time.

In honor of the fact that my brain is slowly crispy-frying, allow me to inundate you with useless random information.

The introduction of a new character to the narrative

B is one of Miss J's best friends. B is not one of Miss C's best friends. B has two thee-month old shar pei cross puppies. B is now my best friend, although he does not know this yet.

B asked me if I could help him take the puppies for their vaccinations, which meant that (a) I got to spend hours playing with wiggly little puppies and have someone be grateful for it (b) I got fed a mountain of char kway teow as a consequence of that gratitude. When I bit into the first bliss-inducing piece of deep-fried pork lard I nearly wept. Shut up, health freaks. Pork lard has magical properties. It can cure cancer, make you more a man and restore thinning hair. It may also give you a heart attack but that's a small price to pay for being melanoma free, blessed with a monumental erection and a full crowning glory.

Unfortunately, thanks to B, I have now witnessed the World of Warcraft firsthand and must sit on my hands to stop myself from buying a game I can't afford and spending all my time playing it. I also have little puppy scratches all over my arms, which I forgot about until I showered, then it felt like someone had bathed my arms in petrol and set them on fire.

When I told Miss J that B had puppies, this was an approximation of the conversation that took place:

Miss J: "Eh? You mean, like, 'B's having kittens'?"
Slinky: "Erm…noo... He's not freaking, he has real puppies."
Miss J: "PUPPIES!"
Slinky: "Yeah."
Miss J: "Puppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppiespuppies!"

This little piggy went to market

I've done my first dissection. Unfortunately, this means that I have not eaten pork since then. I'm not squeamish. In fact, when the lecturer made a rather dry (and wholly unnecessary, in my view) remark about how some of us can't wait to start cutting, I had to put down my scalpel guilty. (I also admit that I surfed up virtual pig dissections before my lab, because I am enormous geek that way.) So, no, the sights of all those little internal organs did not freak me out. What got to me was the smell. The delicate aroma of formalin and decaying offal permeated my clothes, my papers, my lab coat, and my hair. The worst was when we cracked the skull open and scooped out the brains. It was like taking an olfactory shotgun to my unarmed bystander appetite. I haven't been able to stop by the pork counter at the meat section of the supermarket ever since without wincing.

Slinky - a citizen of the world

I have been sent emails by the African Cultural Society and the Indian Cultural Society, inviting m to various events to "meet my fellow Indian/ African students!" I have also been asked whether I was Anglo-Indian by well-meaning but hopelessly deluded Australian. In case we weren't clear on these before, I am a manjun, people. That's spelled "y.e.l.l.l.o.w". And you guys thought I was kidding about feeling like a rotisserie chicken in the sun.

On the flip side, LoversHerDog's aunt thought I was Scottish or Irish after I spoke to her on the phone. Excuse me, I think my haggis is burning.

Long distance loving drops your IQ

I think that not being in the same country as each other makes The Boy and I stupid. Witness the following two incidents:

The Boy and I were Skypeing and I had to ask him to give me his home number so I could call him using my calling card.

Slinky: "Hello, could I speak to Th Boy please?"
Unidentified but very familiar woman: "Who?"
Slinky: "The Boy."
Unidentified but very familiar woman:"Youv'e got the wrong number."
Slinky: "Okay, thank you."

Why the hell was the voice so familiar?

Then it hit me.

Slinky: "Oh my god, I called my OWN house number!"
The Boy: "What?"
Slinky: "And I just spoke to my mother! And I didn't recognize my own mother's voice!"
The Boy: "That was really stupid!"
Slinky: "Why did I do that? My god, I am such an idiot!" *scrolling up* "Hang on... You idiot! YOU gave me my number, not yours!"
The Boy: "Oh. Hurhurhur. I am such an idiot."

In another conversation, after about five minutes of talking:

The Boy: "I can't find my handphone."
Slinky: "But I called you on the handphone......you're holding it."
Silence.
Then, "Oh my god. I am going senile."

Then he realized that if he was, I would have to help bathe him, and decided that could be fun so he was happy again.

Other random facts:

1. Living just above the poverty line makes you tougher. Expiry dates on groceries are for pussies.
2. I have eaten four kilos of Brownes Muesli yoghurt to date, and I'm starting on the fifth.
3. Despite this I have lost weight and need to buy new clothes because some of my stuff is loose on me now. Yes, you are all free to leave hateful comments now.
4. I was part of a collaborative effort to call the police. Unfortunately, the natives do not know the number for the police. In the end, after four failed attempts to obtain the number from actual citizens, three international students finally found the number by consulting a card which was given to one of us by the University. It's both worrying and comforting to think that people here don't need to know the number for he police.
5. Musicians gravitate towards the Slinky. To date I have met two musicians, one who's the lead vocalist in a band and insanely good-looking, I am moving up the band food chain.
6. I met a music producer who toured with the Rolling Stones. No fooling. This happened three hours after needing to call the police. Yes, it was an eventful day.
7. I have not eaten fish in five weeks. The fish here is just icky.
8. Punky can make rissotto. Punky has snorted a line of sugar on a dare. I am going to marry Punky.
9. I have become frighteningly domestic. The highlight of my day was finding out that milk was on special.