Sunday, July 09, 2006


I smell like watermelon when I jog.

The manufacturer of "Off!" mosquito repellent that I use somehow chose watermelon scent on their product. Which is fine really, if the target customers are below 9 years old. The label says the scent is Summer Splash. Summer splash = watermelon?

I have no gripes about the effectiveness however. That thing really does work. For the past 2 weeks we've been having a pretty serious mosquito problem around here. About two weeks ago a rainy weekend resulted in puddles of water which are the mosquitos favorite place to breed. The next few days were hell as the those damn mozzies matured up and started preying on innocent souls who happened to be outdoors. A friend of mine got attacked while playing basketball in a park and was covered in red marks all over his arms and legs. I almost endured the same fate when I went jogging without realizing the mosquito season was on. Those things were everywhere, man. I spent half the time slapping my legs and arms to kill em off. Good thing those North American mosquitos are pretty slow and easy to kill, not like the stealthy Indonesian ones that'll suck your blood and give you dengue even before you realize you've been bitten.

So I got myself a bottle of repellent. They had two types, the sport and the regular one. Apparently by labeling the item "sport" the manufacturer thought they could charge double the price of a regular one. I bought the regular and tried it on. Hey it did work! Those pests would just buzz around and leave. Best $5.99 investment for the summer.

I went for a run earlier today. This type of afternoon run (it was actually around 9 p.m., but since the sun sets at 10.30 I consider it afternoon anyway) always reminds me of the times back in Duri. My dad and I would join our brethrens for the Duri Hash House Harriers (best HHH around, take that Rumbai!) Monday run. I still remember running through oil fields a few years back when it was still allowed. Man, running alongside all those oil pumps and inhaling the smell of crude oil sure is pretty unique. After this whole shitty terrorist affair the powers that be decided we couldn't run in the oil fields anymore, so we moved to the kampungs. At first it was pretty ok. But after we had local kids calling "Helllooo mister!! How are you??" about a thousand times and expecting us to hello back it got tiring. Kampungs were also getting rather crowded as most of the time we ended up trespassing people's yards. Some people would build a house anywhere as long as the land is cheap.

What would a bunch of hashers do when faced with this dilemma? Improvise, of course. The most fun I had was when we broke into the golf course and tried to dodge golf balls while running. The expression of those golfers was just gold.

It's 10. Family Guy time.


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