To call it a joke makes for a sour laugh. Choked. More of a grimace. It’s no different the world over; perhaps only a smidgeon more ghastly in Sin’pore. The Sunday newspaper. Having noticed the morning tea table by the pavement on what must have been furtive passes, the housemate IT guy Rony wondered why you would bother. But his point was more the ready online option available. Was it the tactility? Ron further wondered. Well, kinda, man. ‘Twas in fact a closer engagement, sheerly because of the medium. Something like in-person as opposed to screen / zoom / rubber whatever. Even sharply pointed disgust was worth your while collecting in order to better apprise the life position. You were in the thick of it, right? Canna hide. Know the enemy; &etc. Travel porn naturally (today there was a typical SG complaint about a scuzzy Sicilian beach); the pol. wrap to be sure, both local & internat; the puffing of pygmy notables of one sort or another, culture usually on a Sunday, helped reconfirm how the scaling always worked. Oh! Long piece on personality tests. Lady concerned here today shared much with the big O, lover of Michelle. (In the heading. Don’t for a minute imagine this tosh was read, Rony!) Food, nostalgia, young locals making good in the big world after stints at US Ivy Leagues was a regular, again particularly Sundays. (Wellesley, with a family Taj Mahal pic accompanying.) Re-locating to a place where there was no local English language newspaper would be a grievous loss. (The Jak Post is the best in the Malay world, for when one was in the capital there, or even one of the other cities – if it could be found on newsstands or in the malls.) This morning a brief review of Rachel Cusk was useful for a practitioner.
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