Reservist Woes 2 
Visualised by archtomato On Tuesday, July 29, 2008 at 14:54 Hrs | Minimum B.S.
.. Still Reservist ..
.. No Post For Now ..
No Tomatoes Squashed   •  Throw a Tomato  •  Category: Ageless 
Hate in the Head 
Visualised by archtomato On Sunday, July 27, 2008 at 10:19 Hrs | Minimum B.S.

Ok ok,

I hate clothes. I hate them, okay?

I hate the selecting, the trying on, the conversing with the sales help. There’s another oxymoron, sales-help. You’re either helping me or selling me but they’re not the same thing. I hate carrying shopping bags. I hate receipts. I hate tags, pins, labels, hangers, buttons, zippers, drawstrings, lapels.

I hate bleach, color-safe bleach, detergents, liquids, powders, tablets, stain lifters, stain fighters, stain neutralizers, special crystals, active ingredients, enzymes, whiteners, brighteners. I hate hot water, cold water, warm water. I hate getting $1 off. I hate getting 1/3 more FREE. I hate fabric softener and static cling, so I lose either way.

I hate detergents that are good for the environment, bad for the environment, not even aware of the environment. I hate carrying laundry bags. I hate dry cleaning plastic, people that work at dry cleaners, talking about my stains to the dry cleaner.

I hate and refuse to read any poster or notice about anything on the wall of the dry cleaner. If it was posted “We reserve the right to steal your clothes,” I wouldn’t care. I’m not interested. Just take the clothes. Just let me get the hell out of here and back to the world as soon as possible.

I hate clothes. I hate them.


ps: There is no such thing as dry cleaning.

One Tomato Squashed   •  Throw a Tomato  •  Category: Ageless 
Reservist Woes 
Visualised by archtomato On Wednesday, July 23, 2008 at 14:52 Hrs | Minimum B.S.
.. Reservist, No Post For Now ..
No Tomatoes Squashed   •  Throw a Tomato  •  Category: Ageless 
Flying Sky High 
Visualised by archtomato On Saturday, July 19, 2008 at 3:30 Hrs | Minimum B.S.

Ok ok,

Do you think that the people at the airport that run the stores have any idea what the prices are every place else in the world? Or do you think they just feel they have their own little country out there and they can charge anything they want? “Little hungry? You want a curry puff? It’s 8 dollars. If you don’t like it, go back to your own country.”

I think the whole airport/airline complex is a huge scam just to sell the curry puffs. I think that curry puff profit is what’s supporting the entire air-travel industry. The planes could fly empty, they’d still make money. The terminals, the aeroplanes, the parking, the giftshops, and the sweet things at the information booths, it’s all just to distract you so you don’t notice the beating you’re taking on the curry puff.

The next time you are at the airport, observe.

I believe the closest thing that we have to royalty in Singapore are the people that get to ride in those little carts through the airport. Don’t you hate those things? They come out of nowhere. “Beep, beep. Cart people, look out, cart people!” We all scurry out of the way like worthless peasants. “Ooh, it’s cart people. I hope we didn’t slow you down. Wave to the cart people.”

The other people I hate are the people that get onto the moving walkway (flat escalators) and then just stand there. Like it’s a ride. “Excuse me, there’s no animated pirates or gay gorillas along the way here. Do your legs work at all?”

For goodness sakes, it’s not Disney Land.


ps: I’ve stopped flying. Always take the bus.

No Tomatoes Squashed   •  Throw a Tomato  •  Category: Ageless 
Love Isn’t Blind, It’s Retarded 
Visualised by archtomato On Saturday, July 12, 2008 at 8:49 Hrs | Minimum B.S.

Ok ok,

I love to be on the move. Much more than I’ve ever enjoyed getting anywhere. Arrival is overrated. Moving is much more exciting. Its the journey, not the destination.

Planes, boats, cars, trains, feet, whatever. I just want to move. I think destinations were invented just so we all wouldn’t look like we were wandering around in a daze.

My all-time favorite form of motion is the car. I’m one of those people. I love cars. It’s the greatest physical object I’ve ever seen. i mean, the damn things a modern marvel worthy of its own coffee table book.

I don’t know why, really. My only theory is, when you’re driving, you’re outside and inside, moving and completely still, all at the same time. I think that’s something.


ps: Take it for a spin sometime, and you will see.

3 Tomatoes Squashed   •  Throw a Tomato  •  Category: Ageless 
The sight 
Visualised by archtomato On Friday, July 4, 2008 at 11:42 Hrs | Minimum B.S.

Ok ok,

If you have no eyes, do not walk blindly,

take a staff in your hand.

If you have no staff in sight,

do not walk without a gentle guide.


No Tomatoes Squashed   •  Throw a Tomato  •  Category: Ageless 

Fact File

Archtomato . OxyMoron .
Laughing at Gilded Butterflies

Archtomato works in the IT security industry and has managed to convince his bosses for the past 10 years that his best work is yet to come.

Archtomato is a coffee nut, a photographer without focus, a traveler who can't read maps, a diver who floats all too easily and a champion of world peace.

He is an avid practitioner of the dark side of the force; admires Chuck Norris, Paris Hilton and collects vintage Batman comics. Just like the Horizon, Time Dilation, Flying pigs, Tax Reliefs and possibly, the "Opposition", he believes he is more of a concept than a corporeal being.

Archtomato believes that the true nature of man is decided in the battle between the conscious mind and the desires of the subconscious and that the evil of man's subconscious is often too strong to resist. The only way to win is to deny it battle.

He now lives in a world of pollution, profanity, adolescence, smelly beavers, zits, herpes, broccoli, racism, ozone depletion, sexism, conscription, yellow bananas, stupid people, nightmares, dog whisperers,Gamma Ray Bursts, Nuke Baddies and sings badly but regularly in the bathroom.

 Tomatoes were sacrificed in the making of this website, contents and for the continual existence of its owner.

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