Ode to Bob

Firstly, thanks Bob, for visiting my humble private blog. Tis' nothing compared to yours, ze Drag-Ass.

Actually Intan and I met Bob just a couple of days ago, at my favourite after-work hangout coop, ze Hameeds in Central Market. He eh, I think I've been frequenting Hameeds since my final year at ITM, which is 2000 - which means that it was almost 4 years ago that I first met Bob.

Whoa, that long, eh?

Back in 2000, Hameeds became ze meeting point for me and my mate Wan. She'll be arriving from the greeny UPM, me from the drylands of SS17/18 Shah Alam - both screwed and desperate for distractions and Hameeds became the coop where our teh tarik and maggi goreng accompany our bitch-about-school session.

The first two gentlemen who "adopted" us into the Love-One-Love-All Clan of Hameeds were Fari (who is now attending massage-technique classes is Adelaide) and Kolin (who is still around at CM, manning one of the souvenir stores). Thanks to them, we got to know other gems in the crowd - Bob being of them.

Bob, just like anyone who is part of the Love-One-Love-All Clan, is more than what meets the eye. Beneath his swanky get-up and serious stare, he has an eclectic persona only one who dares talk to him will ever find out.

A sharp observer of people and life, expect his insights and advice to hit the white/yellow/blue/red dot on the squasy ball (what, you all don't know a squasy ball has a tiny coloured dot on its surface?). Yep, he's one of a kind...