I can do no wrong. That's because if I ever did anything wrong, no matter how relatively insignificant, I will get caught for it. Like today when I decided to finally ditch my "Invigilator" security pass after faithfully wearing it day after day while on duty, this seriously officious-looking official -- who looked like everything he uttered had to be typewritten in triplicate -- actually stepped into my path, stopping me in my tracks, and inquired as to the whereabouts of my aforementioned security pass. Despite my unsatisfactory response he let me proceed, with a smirk that suggested that I won a bet for him. Hope I didn't get Chief into trouble for that.

But that's not all. First, check this out...

Cool right? It's my new seatbelt cover I got as a promotional gift from my weekend purchase. Hurm...

Drove over to June's office to collect some merchandise she's bringing over to the Philippines tomorrow. But where I usually stop on the side of the street to meet her, there was this TP just standing there looking like he couldn't wait to book the next unsuspecting errant driver to pass by.

In my panic, I STOPPED at the side of the road, blinked my hazard lights, and fumbled for my mobile phone in my jeans pocket. Phone was too tightly jammed in, so I unfastened my seatbelt to reach it. I called June to advise her that I couldn't stop where I had stopped (duh!), and arranged to drive around again, and this time June had to be there already waiting for me. Having come to an understanding, I hastily took to the streets again, but in my haste, I forgot to refasten my seatbelt. Upon realizing this oversight, I took my hands off the wheel and continued to drive while my hands were busy with the *)#$% seatbelt, made all the more uncooperative with the new seatbelt cover (which makes a great character reference as a driver, now I think about it). With no hands on the wheel, I wobbled my way past the TP -- who was staring intently at me and my license plate -- and as I passed him (another officious-looking fellow) he was grimly scribbling in his notebook.

OMG. How many traffic violations did I commit in the last paragraph? Did I mention that where I stopped to call June it was a jagged double-yellow line? If anyone remembers to wonder where I've disappeared to in the next 10-20 years, they could probably find me in Changi Prison, maximum security, probably with a security pass permanently stapled to my chest, and being the favourite bi*ch of Dragon Long, or Long Dragon, or whatever he wants to call his thing.

Y'know, if the TP wasn't there in the first place, I wouldn't have done all that crazy sh*t. Wonder if the police cause as much crime as they are supposed to prevent?