Friday, November 21, 2008


Well, I've only got AO maths paper 2 and malay to go so life is good right now. And i'm gonna post another part of the pirate story.

and i want to say: if i were a guy, i want to be tall and moderately good looking so i can enjoy the feeling of having girls crowd around me. XD

Pirate story:
“Miere. Arla.”
The sisters froze in mid-step, slowly searching for the source of that dull voice. They saw Seth standing a little way behind them, face as expressionless as ever, neither smile nor scowl adorning the straight line of a mouth.
“Good evening, Captain,” the girls said, curtseying.
“Good evening. I will ask: How are you girls here?”
“Good. There is no reason to dislike this place, is there?”
“Very well.” With that fragment, he turned away, taciturn as ever. Miere and Arla watched his stiff gait as he ambled away.
Iki laughed a careless laugh that bounced off the girls’ faces into the sky.
“You can’t cook?” he asked incredulously. “And you work in a restaurant?”
“Don’t laugh! I’m serious,” Miere pressed, trying not to laugh as well.
“How can you stand it?” Not knowing how the food you serve is prepared?” Mik interjected.
“Our point exactly,” Arla replied.
“You have to learn how to cook. It’s essential for survival. Well, a more comfortable survival,” Darien’s low voice cut in.
“All right! We got it already!” Miere cried in frustration. “If you’re so good, teach us!”
“Fine,” said Iki, and darted off into the bowels of his ship only to return with a small wok and a cylinder with a tripod-like structure attached.
“My lovely portable gas cooker,” Iki said, lighting a match in the presence of the gas. Flames appear. Balancing the wok on the tripod stand, he poured a swirl of oil. Soon the little pool of oil let off a fiery sizzle.
At this point Mik passes some chopped onions and garlic to Iki. The familiar fragrance permeated the air. Iki nimbly hopped over to the ship and retrieved a net full of mussels, grey-green shells reflecting the glaring sunlight. He produced a spatula and tossed the spices, before throwing in the mussels and adding a splash of seawater.
The mussel shells sprang open, shrivelled flesh absorbed the seawater, becoming plump. After some more tossing, Iki handed the girls a mussel each. They were full of flavour, and salty juices oozed from them.
“That’s it?” Arla asked. “So simple?”
‘Pretty much.” Iki shrugged. “But this is just stir-fry. We don’t really boil things, but that’s easy too. Just put food in a pot with water, cover it, and leave it for a while.”
Miere and Arla still couldn’t believe how easy it was. Cooking demystified. It had before seemed a nearly magical act, but now it all boiled down to simple skill. Why wouldn’t Captain Seth let them touch the stove then?