Posts Tagged ‘monkey’


I’m sure I have a split personality. There is “Adam” and then there is “Monkey”.
Generally, I’m a pretty care free person who doesn’t really mind what happens in my personal life, however

Adam is the raging, stern-faced and employee feared monster.

"Ha ha, You all gonna suffer!"

And Monkey, of course the light-hearted, joking naughty little kid.

"Let's have some fun"

The takeover begins… of course when “Monkey” is around. And I only say “Monkey” because that’s what I am called most of the time. Not that I look like a monkey but probably this a nick name in my relationship, designed to subconsciously to put me in my place, so to speak.

And yes, chances are I will get hit with a frying pan when “she” reads this. Already as I’m typing this post, I can feel the blinding pain, the “clang” of hard metal smashing into my soft yet beautiful scalp.

Back to story, I stay in a modest apartment and as Monkey I have  little  no urge to make it look grand or beautiful. I’m 100% happy with the way it is. Yes it looks bare, yes it’s barren, and yes it could look better however, considering that I work most of the time and rarely have friends over there is no actual need to improve it . “She” has taken it as a personal mission to improve my living quarters, and I must admit “she” is damn good at it.

before

Compared to the bland unsightly hovel my apartment has been transformed into a joyous happy home where there are soft under tones of moods and colours, a hint of ying and yang. So now when I come home from work, a tired and beaten “Adam”, I can transform quickly into “Monkey” with the comfort and joy.

After

And at that point I must end it. Before you think I’m a complete Asshole know that I am really happy with what my place looks like now and I prefer being “Monkey”. Currently the score board looks something like this:

“She” 2341

 “Monkey” -513

  “Adam” 6

Thanks Baby for fixing my place!

Advertisements

One of my favourite past times is cooking trying to cook. So I invited one of my chinese friends over to teach me the art of making and cooking my own dumplings, of course this to impress all my friends and family that I’m not just a guy without skills.

The ingredients that you will need are:

2 cooks. One that knows how and the other to look stupid and confused, the latter was me.  Mince meat (Pork or beef), flour, celery, garlic, ginger, soya sauce, caraway, spring onion,egg, salt

"What You Need, minus some of the stuff"

 The first thing I noticed when we started was that I was out of my league. Vivan meant business, out came the aprons, knives and rollers. Don’t ever get in a knife fight with Chinese cause you are gonna lose, they are packing. They say ‘size doesn’t matter’ but whoever said that doesn’t know dick about cooking.

"Size does Matter"

After I got over my SKS (small knife syndrome)  I went to work on the celery. I started chopping and chopping and yes you guessed it more chopping, finally I had made it to about half way through the pile. I stopped to rub some “Deepheat” on the strained back muscles and went back from more. I was not gonna quit in front of a girl, no way, not on my watch! So after what felt like hours I finished the pile, with a heavy sigh I turned to my master chef and said,

“I’m Done”, Yes famous last words. I know!

“Good, so now we can start”, she replied with a smirk on her face.

We started with making the dough, honestly I can say I was useless in that department. It would have been better if a monkey was helping out at that point. With my monkey hands I proceeded to completely mess up the dough. Jesus! It was all going pear-shaped.

"Non-Monkey Hands"

I thought it would be best to take a time out. I stood in the corner looking at the wall, memories from my childhood flashed before my eyes. It wasn’t good.