Year of The Leopard

Once upon a time...Zach and Paul were having a conversation about the Chinese Zodiac and...

I born year of the Rabbit...Scott same...Clifford born (in the year of the) Dragon, I think.
Darian?
Rat..You?
I? Leopard, balls... *proud
Leopard? Got ah? How come? *trying to recall all 12 animals
Cos i BLACK! *prouder
''-.- *sweat That panther, balls!
Oh! Same, balls

The Last Line

The smell of nicotine and alcohol combined together in an air-conditioned room floats me back to my childhood. Stings of yesteryears eat through my head as I stood there. Images as vivid as photographs came creeping in and I know that I must be looking like a mentally challenged jackass, smiling and looking blankly into the lighted signboard of the washrooms.

As a child I practically grew up in a pub owned by my uncles. They are the best Country & Western band in the country and they played, if memory serves me right, every night in their pub. Everyone looked forward to go to the pub every night which meant lesser playing hours for my cousins and I in the day because we’ll party all night. Well, everything had it's price.

Soon, you will notice my indulgences in my own monologues are often disturbed by someone or something. In this case, Ramon pulled me out of my daze warning me on the time left before we were supposed 2 go up. I sensed his eagerness. He had gone through a shit load of practice to come this far...we all did. Although it was supposed to be a surprise, but by her showing up at the mamak with almost a bus load of friends (one in particular had an ass till next Tuesday), I was happy she came.

“Thirteen! Thirteen! Thirteen!!!”

A guy’s walking past an asylum, and can hear all the inmates inside screaming at the top of their lungs, “Thirteen! Thirteen! Thirteen!!!”. He peeks through a hole in the fence to see what all the commotion is about, and a finger suddenly pops out and jabs him in the eye. He yells in pain, and the inmates all start gleefully shouting, “Fourteen! Fourteen! Fourteen!!!”.

Bear Beer

Intrudu came. Although I thought it's rather soon to celebrate since it's hardly a month since Nan's funeral (GOD REST HER SOUL), we still decided to have some fun after the splashing.

Afternoon came and we were getting ready for the annual fancy-dress (cross-dress) football and Mangs and I were pulling out our respective mother's clothes...from blouses to blusher and even fake moles like Sharifah Aini.

However, we were disappointed by last minute cancellations made by the ever so efficient organizers. *snort !

We decided to sit at the Padang and watch the Soccerstars (including Scott...shit) play football. In the meantime, Zach, Edward and Clifford went to get a few beers. When they came back, I knew they saw things my way...

They came back with cans and cans of Bear Beer. With it's 12% alcohol, everyone got a bit more drunk than usual.



Edward got an earful for trying to miss his bus...Zach drove home stoned...Clifford, Mangs and I walked home shoulder to shoulder to shoulder with cuts and tears on our feet from the bare-footed, alcohol-infused street soccer.

Mangs and I vomited and slept.