Five Things I Wish For This Christmas

Crude words. Leave if you feel squeamish or desolated. Not my intention.


1. I wish that children of every age and size will instantly be settled with a vaporized limp each time they decide that supermarket hide and seek is a surrealistic idea. Four out of ten times, these little spawns-of-Satan will run into my market bag. Last week, some atrocious steroid fed Tasmanian Devil broke twelve eggs, cracked a bottle of olive oil and Dijon mustard, bruised a packet of herbs and dented a can of tomato in my market bag then nonchalantly continued the "catching" game. Parents, beat your kids or leash them if you have to before I forcefully insert the entire length of my fingers into their eye balls.

2. I wish that God will send me a box of Royce's Amande Chocolat every week for the rest of my entire life. Royce's magical box of almond chocolates contains three absolutely luscious types of mind boggling chocolate; milk, white and dark. You eat the milk then the white then the dark. If you follow this sequence, you will realize that your surroundings will momentarily pace down in time and your eyes will almost automatically shut and a bright light will appear above. You will then try to reach for the light when it suddenly disappears and you have to attempt the sequence all over again and again until you could. You reach the light. You feel extremely jubilant and also you now have a sore throat and three days worth of calories. If you're bulimic, you will dig, expel and repeat the sequence all over again. Royce's Chocolate. Absolutely sublime. No, I'm not advertising for them.

3. I wish that a tiny area in the north-east region of Singapore just beside Compass Point Shopping Mall, which happens to be my house, will have top quality Arabic Coffee Beans falling from the sky as rain.

4. I wish that people will stop sending unbelievably impractical Christmas presents. For the love of god, stop giving towels. Half of my wardrobe was occupied with your stupid towels, you leave me no space for my own clothes. Thanks to you, they are now on the way to some profiteering charity which steals organ money from the sick. Also, stop sending me comfort things like socks, blankets and sweaters. I am not a hobo, and even if I was one, I'd rather rob you or kidnap you for ransom, then rape your sister/wife/mother.

5. I wish to be trained under Gordon Ramsay because is the epiphany of an indisputable male chef. The reason is that Gordon isn't an introvert, a gay, a pseudo-gay, a sociopath, a douche bag nor a transvestite, which is also the reason why you'd disagree with me. He is everything that defines a man, from the ass kicking face to slaughtering his own pigs for food. He creates real food, not that pretentious, phony crap in over-advertised new restaurants. Buy his new book, Fast Food, to believe.

Last but not least, I wish my throat infection will completely recover so I don't have to spend my Christmas in the operating theater..