The annotated budak

"wat u looking at, pervy duck?"

zzz

Pussies galore

Angelmiao looking dumb and Hades the scaredy cat having breakfast.

Kimmie the slutty cat and Tootsie the polydactyl cat.

Angelmiao and Kimmie: separated at birth.

Tootsie the polydactyl half-hitler cat. Angelmiao at work. No ducks cats were harmed or humiliated in the making of this pictorial.

By the pier I live and play
for twice the tide recedes each day
to leave a shore of leggy treats
and claws and shells with flesh so sweet

When the water falls back up
And nothing good is left for sup
I lay my paws by pot of tree
on which remain my scent of pee

Alas this noon was not to be
my hour of peace and fancy free
for slumber's lost when this foul duck
disturbs my dreams with his rude cluck

Howdee!! You can see me actively disapproving of the duck's new toy. He claims he got it off a Lonely Ham who's now in Qatar, but I think this is a tall tale from a short duck cos we all know pork products, lonesome or otherwise, aren't allowed in those places. The only thing good about this thing is that the duck will probably break a few parts or get squashed flat while using it. He clearly hasn't heard that it's chickens not ducks who get to cross the road...

Unfortunately, he's been taking steps to prevent himself from becoming birdfood for the crows. So after some trouble, he found a helmet that actually fits his fatty head (fat cos he's been stuffing it with this) and got new brakes that might actually work if he remembers how to use them. He also got a little hand pump (don't ask what he's using it for) and new front and back lights, which should help drivers who need target practice at night. Speaking of which, he claims consistent bad luck with taxis is one reason that prompted him to get this dumb machine. I can tell you it's no use, as he's still getting bugged by cabbies who zoom pass him so close he actually remembers what is the Bernoulli effect...

Pooches and pussies

The fifty or so permanent residents of Pulau Ubin share the island with friendly dogs and disdainful cats who are little feared and have little to fear save the common dangers of an untrammelled life. Panting from the unexpected heat that followed many afternoons of downpour, the mutt on the left has a slight limp and likes to hang out by the GVN Green House under the unwatchful eye of the resident ape. With his pals, they roam the village, rooting for scraps and begging for favours from the tables of weekend feasts. The black and tan fellow is usually seen dozing behind the information counter at Chek Jawa and probably frolicks with the boars when the eastern shore bids the rangers farewell each night. Mangy some may be, but it's a life unwrecked by the whims of those who lose their semblance of sentience in a flightful fancy for a furry. 

While the hounds wander the streets and investigate the occasional visitor of fluffy pedigree, it seems every house and hut in the village, from the yard behind Pat Ali's lontong stall to the dark halls of homes converted into bicycle stores, is owned by one or more pussies. Less bold than the canines, the cats prefer to stake out comfortable perches and shun the pokes of muddy ducks. The evening sun was cool enough, though, to persuade a bunch to slink out to the shore behind the tamarind tree, where they sniffed the sand, basked on the grains and chewed at little things that had washed up by the water's edge. None went as far as to get their paws wet – they clearly prefer to savour the taste but not the touch of the salty sea.

Howdee! The shifty duck is getting dumber and dumber. For some reason, now he thinks he can turn me into a bunny but I easily scared him away as he's deathly afraid of pointy things. So instead, he went off to some dive and shamelessly poked a loopy bunny in bare view of the public before waddling off in fear of getting bitten and beat up. Worse, he's taken to dribbling, as he heard it on good authority that this is an effective means of attracting virgins. Unfortunately, he forgot that he is in fact not a crab but has them instead...   

Time for paws

Cute dog at the seafood restaurant asking for a treat. His friend went for a dip in the sea.

Resident pussies at the bicycle-rental shop.

Thai pussy

On Wednesday, we left Arthur to his specimens and headed out to breakfast along Pattanatongtin Road. At a stall by the pavement, we found porridge so plain it needed just an egg and a dash of dark soy to bring its flavour to the fore. Perhaps not wanting to dilute the goodness of their gruel, the stall doesn't serve beverages, so we headed down the road in search of a steaming cuppa. A suitable server was spotted but before that, a pair of plush pussies distracted our senses as we passed a shop that stored rice in gunnysacks.

A purring machine in grey and brown licked himself on a stone bench and invited Joe's fingers for a feel of his fur. Behind, his companion crouched in a fortress of pots. She was much shyer, declining to lay her belly bare for a free serving of scritches, while her buddy flopped and flapped on the tiles, taking in the morning sun. For now, it's fun and games for these probably guardians of grain who receive elsewhere no thanks but torment for their service to heartless cities.

Shrink-wrapped miao