The silence on Kramat Lane was brutally murdered by a red-and-black maelstrom which emerged from a taxi, barged across the road, wormed its way through the human traffic and slowed down outside the door of an Internet cafe, revealing itself to be a tall youth in semi-formal attire, carrying an army field pack which clashed horribly with his clothes. Opening the door, he resumed maelstrom mode.

All the cashuier registed was a bluer going past, a green card slammed down on the table, and a breathless voice going “PC Station ten, please.” Looking down at the card, the cashier suddenly understood why their best-paying customer had gone missing for two weeks.

The youth crashed onto the seat with an easy familiarity that spoke volumes, brought up sevdral Internet browser windows, and began to read and type furiously.

And that was the intro. Aint I long-winded?

IM BACK! AND BADDER THAN EVAH!

Well, not quite. At least the being back bit.

After spending two weeks in the camp, reciving basic military training, Im finally allowed to book out during the weekends. THus, Imppala will return to haunt MMO every five days or so, unless he does something stupid or be horribly unlucky to warrant revoking of such privileges. Imppala won’t die from conscription, no sir. Theyve tried everything from locking him up with hamsters to duels with certain spiky-haired guard captains (more on that later) to simply starving him of his beloved CSR (computter screen radiation) for two weeks. *waves hand dismissively* Im still here anyway. Or am I? *twilight zone theme plays*

So far life has been rather bearable, since its been slacker than your average Scout camp. Once we book back in though, I expect to be worked to the bone. So far theyve gone as far as the dermis. Bleeding abrasions…

The food’s good for mass cooking (Ill never understand how you stir-fry competently with a wok meant for 200. 0_0), the quarters are spartan but comfortable, and the sergeants wont yell too much if you do it properly the first time.

The only problem so far has been my bunkmates, who seem to know all the wrong Hokkien words, dont understand what song parodies are (If you dont know the lyrics, dont sing lah!), and cry foul when I wrote the mission and vision of the section in words comprising of more than four syllables. I dont care, it remains the spiffiest one Ive seen yet, and the only one completely in prose IN THE WHOLE COMPANY *is proud*

Ive got MOUNTAINS of stuff (ask and ye shall receive, I see) to catch up here, especially in the RP, several Bleach eps (tell me the filler arc is done) and a hell lotta other stuff that if I list down. Ill nevah get to gaming.

This has been the longest time Imppala has had to go for without burning his eyes in CSR, and he has many friends to thank, not the least Silver, who provided the daily intelligent conversation fix before I start breaking down into gangster talk and everything.

We’ve had quite a bit of free time, and I had two empty notebooks and three pens ( all took turns to be lost and consequently found), so Ive done a fair bit of writing. Ill try to post it up once Ive had an opportuniy to go thru it all again and rewrite some of the shakier parts. The Bleach entry stands finished (to the last battle scene anyway, I havent decided how the final scene goes), at a staggering 25 notebook pages, all in fabulously messy scrawl that I can actually understand and other people cant. Who needs code, man?

On the Maple side, Aquila crashed, so I cant resume Mandos. *hmphs*

Happy blogging and a Merry Christmas to all.

Cheers,
Imppala

Makenaide, ichii no hana

P.S. To those who dont get the green card bit, basically our normal Identification Card gets swapped for a Singapore Armed Forces card. In other words, I swapped a pink card for a green card that identifies me as National Service personnel and will serve as my ID for the next two years. Thanks to Silver for alerting me to explain this.