The Real World: Singapore, Part II - Food, etc.

Seriously, why can't I even write a title without using bizarre amounts of unnecessary punctuation? Anyway, we're back, baby. Only this time a lot sweatier and slightly more drunk.

Now that week 2 is coming to a close, we have learned a lot more about the place Sam and I will be spending the next year. Namely, that Sam and I are going to gain 40 pounds each if we don't adjust the way we're currently shoving food into our round American faces (more about that later). That, and everyone here thinks that I look exactly like Andre Agassi.

Either I look exactly like Agassi or Singaporeans love tennis and think that all bald white guys look alike. P.S. I dare you not to be drawn in by those eyes.

Food here continues to be an all-encompassing, continuous pastime. It seems that completely by accident, we set up shop in the food capital of the world. I used to think that American life was centered around eating. Frankly, I had no idea what I was talking about (Sam would inform you that this is not an unusual occurrence). Let me put it this way, there are about 70 separate restaurants on the block we live on.

According to Moore's Law, that means there are at least 25 million restaurants captured in this photograph.

JAILBREAK!!!

We broke Foxy out of dog jail yesterday.

Not even Nelson Mandela suffered this much.

She was a VERY happy camper, although she was greeted by the rude awakening that she is a heat-sensitive dog now living in an equatorial, tropical country.

She pants like a fat guy in a grease fire.

To add insult to injury it has been so humid lately that it rains every day.

Rare is the day when humidity can be captured via photograph. I bet you're sweating just looking at this picture.

As a result Foxy has to wear her raincoat a lot.

This look can be roughly translated as: "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

It is a huge burden lifted off our chests now that Foxy is out of dog jail. It was a real bitch (pun....intended?) getting all the way up to the quarantine station everyday from downtown. I mean I think anyone can identify with how annoying it is to take the MRT all the way up to Yishun and then transfer to the 171 to Sembewang. Am I right people? Is this thing on?

Ok, fair enough. Moving on, now that we don't have to visit Foxy at the other side of the island every day, we have a lot more free time to do Singapore things.

Like walk past important buildings.

Or do whatever this is called:

Is it weird that I totally wanna dip my junk in there?

But back to the food. Sam and I can't even describe the foodventures we've been on over the last few weeks. First of all, lets just talk about a phenomenon here that is both mildly confusing and particularly hazardous to my health. Singaporeans love desert more than any other nation on earth. There is literally a bakery on every street corner, and several on every floor of every mall.

You better know your cake history.

During lunch hour, guys will literally walk in to one of these shops, grab 3 chocolate whatever's for like $2 and that's his lunch.

Don't even act like you wouldn't grab any three items for $2.

And this is just one of dozens of bakery chains across the country.

This is Chewy Junior. Motto: "You're diet can suck our balls."

Of course there is a lot of food that we haven't had the chance to try yet but is nonetheless very popular here. One such culinary delight is a local fruit called durian.

Why haven't we tried it yet? Oh, maybe because it looks like it has dinosaur skin and smells like 10,000 miles of bad road. So smelly in fact that you aren't even aloud to bring it on trains or buses. There are even whole apartment complexes that do not allow durian on the property (thankfully, ours is one such complex).

There are even things we don't want to try at our beloved Cake History:

Silly, those words don't belong together.

One amazing part of walking to Chinatown is that on every street corner there is a fresh pork and beef jerky stand, where upstanding young gentleman grill up meat slabs and dry them out for your enjoyment every day.

You have no idea how manly I felt being so close to that much jerky.

One word of advice though. If you're going to walk, you better wait for the green man.

I was kind of hoping this guy would show up to help us across the street:

I would also have settled for The Nightman.

Once Greenman gets you to Chinatown. You really get a chance to sample authentic Chinese culture, unspoiled by western influence.

Is it racist to think that this is racist?

Chinatown is really fun and Sam and I had a nice day making sure to eat everything in arm's reach while walking as quickly as possible past anything of real cultural significance.

Fat guy in a little aisle.

Yeah ok fine, maybe Sam and I aren't exactly serving as cultural attachés during our time here. But we are having a great time, even allowing banal things like going to the grocery store to become minor adventures.

This is my "I think I should go see a therapist because for some reason
these fruit are turning me on," face.

I no longer wish to write anything else. Hope everything is going well with everyone. Tureff's out.