While sharing a cab home, Z and I encountered a slightly eccentric taxi driver with a very prosperous-looking license plate (SHA 888E) on his 10th day on the job. I've always been eh, blessed with strange taxi encounters, but this was probably the first time I've had an eye witness. So while the taxi driver made an illegal turn or two, we had a bizarre conversation where the taxi driver mentioned he's braindead; we became backseat drivers guiding him; he mentioned picking up 2 women passengers (one Malaysian and one Australian) who voted him as the cheeriest cab driver and eh, the rest escaped me.

So now we're both home, online and sleepy, and trying to pass the bucket (Z says it's the parcel, not the bucket.. but you get the idea) on whose turn it is blog about the taxi driver. No parcel for guessing who caved in first.

And now I'm really going to bed. Dang. I keep thinking it's my hols too.