Spent most of the day reading. Friday’s newspaper. Saturday’s newspaper and a book.

Pappy is in town again but he was out the whole day. I waited for him for the whole day, reading as I was expecting him to come home earlier.

I picked him up and we went for dinner. Went to 2 places until he decided to settle at the 3rd place. I also pening already. Asked him to decide since I can eat anything but he wants me to decide. I decided and we went to that place but he didn’t feel the food suited him. So he suggested another place and we went in and tak ngam juga. Finally, we went to a 3rd place and it was crowded. The food was quite good except the service was very slow. And I was so worried Pappy would soon erupt. He doesn’t like to wait for too long and his sentiments were felt by other tables as well. A lady sitting at the next table couldn’t help but to voice out to one of the waitress.

“Why not we go somewhere else?”

“Pa, just wait. If we go somewhere else, we have to wait some more.”

Iris called me for the first time since she left for UK around 11pm. So happy! She’s in Nottingham waiting to play a badminton match.

“Bunny, tonight I’m going to sleep on the floor.”

“Where are you now?”

“In Ducky room, your room.”

I’m sleeping in Iris’s room because it’s brighter there. There will be no way for me to oversleep on working days because by 7, the sun will shining through the windows.


A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value - you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to- hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you - daft as a bush, but very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

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