The Indonesian
island of Sumatra is on fire. The smoke haze that is drifting over Singapore is
acrid and nasty. It is very nasty indeed. I am wheezing and struggling to
breathe.
The
Singaporean government has put out a health warning advising the elderly and
young children of the Island to stay inside. Such warnings are not uncommon. We
residents of Singapore are often subject to smoke haze that drifts across from
Indonesia. Many of the fires there are deliberately lit to clear the land for
the planting of palm trees for oil production.
It is an
abomination.
Here is a
picture taken this afternoon of the skyline of the Singapore CBD.
As I alighted
the taxi at my residence in Novena my insane Danish neighbour Jens roared up on
his Harley Davidson motor cycle and pulled up beside me. The exhaust from his
bike added to the rancid smoke in the air. Jens killed the engine and took off
his black helmet and he shook his greasy and dis-shevelled hair loose. His
motorcycle helmet has horns on it. I think it is supposed to resemble something
Viking but to me it just looks bovine.
Jens roared at
me, "How eez it going skeepy de boosh kangaroo?
This is Jens
typical attempt at insulting me and it is rather pathetic. Equally
pathetic is him riding a Harley and his ridiculous helmet with the horns on it.
Jens is rather proud of his Viking heritage but the horns just make him look
even more crazy than he actually is. He is grossly overweight and has a wild
head of greying blonde hair with an equally wild and unkempt beard. There are
often bits of food stuck in his facial hair and I suspect that he rarely
washes.
My
relationship with Jens is quite hostile and it came to a head a couple of
months ago when I suggested to building management that he may be the party
responsible for shitting in the communal swimming pool. I have written about
this episode previously in a piece called, "The Floater" so I will
say no more on the matter here.
"I am
having difficulty breathing fatso" I replied.
"Ya
ver ees all dees smoke coomink from?
"The
island of Sumatra is on fire"
"Ha!",
the Dane
cackled insanely.
It seemed to
me to be a completely inappropriate and bizarre comment to make but was one
that befits such a man of his mental instability.
"The
police were here earlier Jens. I think they may have been looking for you"
They weren't.
However I wanted to disarm Jens and keep him on his toes. This was an endeavor
to minimize the potential for him physically attacking me. The insanity of the
man is profound and his behavior is completely unpredictable.
Jens looked
taken aback at this and he was noticeably alarmed.
"Modderfooken
polis"
he muttered.
The building
manager Mr. Tan appeared suddenly and almost miraculously. He often does this.
It is like he emerges from thin air and perhaps he does. As usual he was being
trailed by one of the dopey security guards of the apartment complex in which
both Jens and I reside.
"Good
evening Mr. Peter. Good evening Mr. Jens. Is everything alright?"
"Modderfoker"
was Jens
response.
"Good
evening Mr. Tan" I replied.
"Mr.
Jens was just telling me how he set the island of Sumatra on fire and is
responsible for all this smoke. I think we should inform the police"
"Modderfoker" Jens repeated.
He was now
tugging at his beard and I could actually see crumbs falling from it.
Mr. Tan looked
anxious. He often does.
"Don't
worry Mr. Tan I am only joking"
Mr. Tan looked
relieved.
"How
is the investigation on the poo in the pool proceeding? I enquired of Mr. Tan.
Jens now
looked alarmed and began tugging at his beard even more furiously.
"I
have not had any further updates" Mr. Tan replied.
"Any
idea who would have done such a despicable thing Jens? I asked of the lunatic
Scandinavian.
My tone was
accusing and I cocked my eyebrow at him in emphasis.
"Eet
wasn't modderfoker me!" Jens exploded.
He turned
quite red in the face as he put back on his bovine motorcycle helmet and then
he started his engine and he roared off down the driveway.
"He is
definitely the culprit Mr. Tan. I would keep him under very close
surveillance"
Mr. Tan nodded
in grim agreement. We both watched the crazy Dane hurtle off into the hazy
distance.
This time it
was me who gave an evil cackle as I walked my way through the lobby. I caught
the lift up to the sanctuary of my little apartment. I was in dire need of my
ventolin.
This smoke in
the air is wreaking havoc with my asthma.
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