the damned quarter pounder

Damn, damn. Double damn.

I feel so darn pudgy right now, thanks to my lack of wisdom in choosing food for lunch. Yup, yours sincerely disgustingly stuffed her face with a Quarter Pounder, as well as medium fries and Vanilla Coke. What the hell was I thinking?

But I can hardly be held culpable for this idiocy. For serious, it ain't my fault, people. How does one stay strong when as soon as one walks through the Golden Arches, one gets seduced without warning?

Now come on, you can't possibly tell me that you won't falter after seeing the juiciness of that.

And you know what else seriously doesn't help? The scrumptiously salty scent of fresh French fries... It's tough, oi!

But just like with everything else in life, you gotta know your limits. A large meal?

Calories in Quarter Pounder

A quarter pounder with cheese, large fries & large shake contain about 1300 calories. To burn off the calories, take a brisk 5 hour walk.

Five blinking hours of walking? Am so patting my back for settling with just a medium meal.

But still.

I'm definitely going for kickboxing today, man.

Curse you, McDonald's. Curse you to bankruptcy.

~*~

Perhaps I shoulda just had this...

After which I'll be surfing high on my very own...

~*~

If these bad-ass big boys from Pulp Fiction couldn't resist the evil seductions of the Quarter Pounder and its other sinful fast-food friends, how could I?

Vincent Vega: You know what they call a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?

Jules: They don't call it a Quarter Pounder with cheese?

Vincent: No, they got the metric system there, they wouldn't know what the f**k a Quarter Pounder is.

Jules: What'd they call it?

Vincent: Royale with Cheese.

Jules: Royale with Cheese... What'd they call a Big Mac?

Vincent: Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call it Le Big Mac.

Jules: What do they call a Whopper?

Vincent: I dunno, I didn't go into a Burger King.

Even weapon-bearing citizens in cartoonland have fallen prey to this evil of our world:

Lou: Well, at McDonald's you can buy a Krusty Burger with cheese, right? But they don't call it a Krusty Burger with cheese.

Wiggum: Get out! Well, what do they call it?

Lou: A Quarter Pounder with cheese.

Wiggum: Quarter Pounder with cheese? Well, I can picture the cheese, but, uh, do they have Krusty partially gelatinated non-dairy gum-based beverages?

Lou: Mm-hm. They call 'em, "shakes."

Eddie: Huh, shakes? You don't know what you're gettin'!

Hallelujah. I ain't alone in this predicament, no seree.

get them eggs outta them ice boxes!

More info on the avian flu...

Academic warns people not to store eggs in refrigerators

Eggs should not be stored in refrigerators because the cooler conditions might allow the bird-flu virus to live longer, increasing the chance of exposure to humans, a senior Chulalongkorn University researcher said Thursday.

Professor Yong Phuvoravan, who is part of a team examining patterns of genes in bird flu, said that while the virus can be caught only through direct contact with chickens, refrigerated conditions could allow the virus to live longer on the outside of eggshells.

Speaking at a bird-flu seminar at the Chula Academy Exhibition Thursday, he urged people to wash their eggs carefully (hahah, sorry, this sounds so salah, man!), especially those smattered with chicken droppings, and not to store them in their fridges.

He added that people should wash their hands well after touching the eggs and cook the eggs in 70-degree Celsius heat.

The virus has mutated by about 3 per cent from the first batchfound in 2003, which was a natural process, he said. However, as yet there has been no evidence of a mutation to make the virus transmittable from human to human.

Yong did say, however, that over consumption of the Tamiflu vaccine could lead to the virus building up a resistance.

a dream that turned into a nightmare in just one afternoon

... for Wigan, that is. We, on the other hand, got silverware, woohoo!

GLORY GLORY MAN UNITED!

P/S: Way to go, Wayne!

i'm wishing on a star

Ah, human nature. Never satisfied with anything that you already have, and always wanting more more more. Being a fellow homosapien, I am in no way exempted from this curse. Here goes my current wish list.

I w*sh I had more...

money * Aha, the obvious choice. I mean, come on, in this day and age, who can deny that loot is way up there in their list of wants and worries? But you know what? While I dream of having more kaching all the time, I'd just like to make something very, very clear. I don't wanna be filthy rich, nah-uh. Sure, the thought of never having to worry about financial constraints is truly heavenly indeed. Sure, I get insanely envious of the glitz and glam that some of my more fortunate peers who were born into super-rich families enjoy. But big fortune, as unfortunate as it may be, comes with bigger price tags. So, while I don't agree with the saying "money can't buy happiness"—'cause let's get real; money can buy anything nowadays, honey—I think the tagline that better suits me is "just a little bit more money makes a happier little missy."

time * Oh how I wish that there were more hours in my days! As it is, my job sucks up a huge chunk of my time. And being the ever-hyper-can't-stay-still-for-more-than-two-minutes person that I am, I have so much stuff to do (futsal, kickboxing, cooking, shopping, not to mention the ones I've been wanting to partake in like capoeira, more language classes, etc) but so little time to do them. But then again, there is never enough time for anything, is there? Yup, I gotta make time to have more time, innit. And not just for those stuff I mentioned above, no way José. What I really, seriously need to make time for is those dearest to my heart, so that I can arm myself with precious memories to ensure my fulfilment in years to come.

patience * Blame it on my age, blame it on my growing disenchantment with life, heck, blame it even on the bad influence of all things uncensored (hah!). Whatever it may be, patience is a definite virtue that I've never been well endowed with. A virtue that seems to be more and more of a stranger to me. And lately, I find it extra easy for things to tick me off. This, especially true in the love department. Which is so salah, as my significant other should be my source of comfort, not some poor punching bag. Perhaps it's the fifth-month curse (you know, things are all dandy till you reach the second quarter). Perhaps it's all the drugs that I'm forced to pump myself with. Perhaps it's just bad anger management... For what it's worth, I'm sorry, sweetheart. Do have the comfort of knowing that I'm trying to do something about it, ya ;)

wisdom * I hate making decisions. Be it something simple like which road to take, or not so simple as choosing the starting five for my team at a tourney, or just downright life-threatening like "should I or should I not go home beyond my curfew nightly" (yes, people, Catwoman has a curfew, so bite me). Why is this so? Because I fear that the choices I make might haunt me. Also, sometimes—most of the time—I'm torn between being wise and being instantly gratified that I close one eye deliberately. Sigh. I think I know what I need to do: Grow up. Insya-Allah, this will eventually gift me with the wisdom to make good choices. No, no, the wisdom to make the right choices, more like.

strength * ... to say no. Don't know why I find it so hard to blurt "no!" to those annoying callers who claim that "someone has recommended you for an exclusive membership to the Legend Group," and the like. I would usually resort to telling them that I'm "busy" rather than "not interested" for fear of hurting their feelings. Silly? Very, I know. And yet I still succumb to such behaviours. Oh, why do I have a heart? ;Þ (in major denial)

creativity * Being a so-called "creative" personnel in the advertising industry has made me realise one thing: that I'm not too creative after all. Ironic, innit. I simply can't get how people around me can just pluck ideas out of thin air. Me, I think and think and zilch. Well, not zilch per se but pretty blah thoughts. Maybe I just care too much about what people think, hence I filter out anything that I deem unworthy of their opinion (which spells most of my thoughts). Maybe I just need to stop thinking too much about thinking. There, another irony. Welcome to the world of advertising.

accessories * Okay, okay, so this one's lame, but I wish I had more bling! Calm down, I ain't talking real-deal carats here (though one or two of those would be sweet, heh.) I'm just wishing that I hadn't stopped my high-school hobby of collecting costume jewellery along the way, so that by now I would have an abundance of girly-girl stuff to complement (contradict?) my not-so-girly-girl personality. Oh well. Thank gosh for all the "three for tens" that are available everywhere nowadays.

inches * What, you didn't know that I'm actually a man? HAH! Now that I've got your imagination engine running wild, try picturing me with a little more to my height. Nothing too OTT, just four more inches would be good. I wonder if those "stretch your bones longer to be taller" stints in China are worth a looksee, hrmmm...

strange but true

"By raising your legs slowly and laying on your back,

you can't sink in quicksand."

-- Anonymous