Froggy business

My unit had a run at East Coast Park today. The sun was just right, the trees were swaying in the unusually strong breeze but I wasn't running.

My friends and I were marshalers for the day.

Holding our red flags and our CWO( Corrective Work Order) look-alike yellow vests, we gathered after the run, which lasted all of twenty mintutes.

Alvin: You know , it is my greatest dream to hold this flag- very orgasmic experience le.
Eric: Ya lor. Mine especially.

( Eric swings his flag which was markedly smaller than the rest of us. Someone remarked that it looked more like a handkerchief.)

Alvin: I did more than you all lor. I marshaled a skate-scooter le.
All : Wah...

After that positively redundant conversation, we had our dinner at a Zicha nearby.

So call me frog in the well( Jing Di Zi Wa)- plain ignorant but I've never ever eaten frog's leg. The idea of eating such an exotic delicacy puts me off everytime I imagine the frogs jumping around in swamps, their webbed feet shaking grotesquely in front of my face.

Derek: Tastes like chicken. Try la.

So, intending to make my every penny worth its while, I gingerly took a leg, expecting any moment for it to have a muscle spasm and contort itself out of my fork. I took a bite.

It was soft, crab-meat like, having no flavour at all. And it definitely does not taste like chicken.

I contemplated getting rid of the rest of my frog's leg. If only if there was a cat around I could have furtively got it a frog's leg extra value meal, but none could be found. I got the rest of the thigh into my queasy stomach and asked myself how frog's leg porridge could be so famous.

I'll still stick to good old chicken any time.