It happened again. The aftermath of drinking. As I’ve mentioned before, each time I had a session of drinking party, I will always get an upset stomach. This time, the red wine took a different turn towards something I’ve never encountered before. The hangover on Sunday was a usual one, but it got worse after that.

I woke up on Monday to discover that I actually had a mild fever, coupled with a throat so sore that it’s comparable to labor pains (not that I’ve experienced it but, trust me, it really hurts). I went to work nevertheless, in a half sober state and with a queer mind.

My trip to work turns out fine. But when I reached the office, my stomach suddenly gets uppity. Without waiting, I stormed into a nearby toilet and started my dump. It began with a couple of loud farts, that produces a decibel so high that it made me worried if the sound actually penetrated the toilet wall into the office.

Then the real stuff begins (those farts were just teasers). My rectum started to contract and pushes all it’s content towards my anus, building a pressure so high, that I had to actually hold my breath to withstand it. The poo doesn’t look normal (which I managed to find out later), it was thick and mushy with masses of the chlorine flavored beef I’ve taken 2 nights before, along with the assortment of digested food taken on Sunday. It was oozing out from my ass like McDonald’s chocolate sundae, long and perpetual. At times it became so long, that I had to cut it off by using my anus’ sphincter.

It was like a ride to the moon - words can’t describe the acute feeling. The chocolate sundae purge continued for a whole 2 minutes and I began to sweat (it’s fucking hot inside the toilet booth). When the purging stopped, more farts came out, blasting the porcelain bowl like an upside down erupting volcano. There was a 20 - 30 seconds pause after that, and then something came out again.

This time, it was a pottage of shit soup with occasional poo balls (you know poo balls, round and cute little shits that’s as annoying as Pikachu & it’s cohorts), gushing out like a burst water pipe. FSSSSHHHHHHH. TOOMMPP. (the latter was the sound of a poo ball projectiling into the water). It went on for another 20 seconds. I was so worried that I might pass out (from dehydration) inside the booth, for I, had never encountered a shitting experience so intense.

The air quality was so stale and toxic, that I seriously could not imagine how I actually managed to survive in there… goddamn. Alright, it stopped after that. My ass was in a deep mess. I had to wash it over and over again just to ensure it got back it’s usual shine.

Just before I flush, I curiously took a peek into the ground zero - what it actually looked like inside there. Here’s what I saw

1) the sundae shit settled into the bottom of the porcelain bowl (due to it’s dense mass), totally obscuring the draining hole.
2) above sundae shit, were those little chunks of poo balls, floating precariously like stray asteroids in our solar system.

I took a gasp and pressed the flush button (yes, we got high tech toilets in my company). Then something went wrong. As the water flushes in, the whole thing began to deluge. It doesn’t take a genius to find out why — THE SUNDAE SHIT WAS BLOCKING THE GODDAMN DRAINAGE HOLE. And it was deluging fast, looked as if it’s gonna overflow to the floor or something.

I immediately unlocked the door, and got myself ready to abandon the booth. I was looking at it stricken with horror, when suddenly, the whole pool of mess let out a big ass bubble with the sound PLOOOOOP and the whole thing disappeared into the drainage hole. That was a close call of death.

*Apparently, the sundae shit could not sustain the weight of the pool of deluging water, and it gave way. When the sundae shit gave way, some air from the air lock section escaped and gave out that loud PLOOP.

I swear I’m not gonna drink that much red wine in my life ever again.

I woke up with some confusion in mind, why are we so happy last night ? What’s so special about the night ? I mean, what’s the big deal ? It’s just our national day - I’ve experienced that for the past 27 years. I’ve never seen a curfew before, nor I’ve experienced any Japanese soldier poking their bayonets at our pigs. And I don’t even have a pig. Why are we feeling so euphoric as if we’ve won a cold hard war ? Or was it the end of the Olympics that we celebrated for ? I don’t watch the Olympics either. I wondered why.

Ok, I started off last night with Charles and his Joy. I was with Emily. We’re suppose to meet with the BODs to party at a new club. But before that, 4 of us went for dinner and talked about good old days again. Downed a few bottles of large beer. Quite happy, but I still don’t have a clue why.

Then Ronnie messaged, told me that he can’t make it. His dad is sick or something. I suppose that he’s able to cure his dad by just not joining us to party. But usually, he’ll just lie on the couch watching some soccer match on TV and be a lazy fart. Maybe his dad likes him to be like that. I wished him a take care message, and went on with my night.

Luis came with Karen later. We chatted more about our good old days - and none of them pertaining the topic of being a patriot or displaying our flags dangerously on our vehicles. I guess we’re happy that night because of something else. Not about being independence at all. Hmmm… that’s kinda strange.

Well, we arrived at the club entrance about 10 minutes before 11pm. Met with Ayamas and Sue. Sue had a new hairstyle - which actually looked like Whitney Houston in her 20’s… cept of course, Sue is much much fairer than Whitney. But that wasn’t the reason why we’re so happy either.

We went into the club - which spins some good House music outside, but shitty pop mixes inside. Some sort of cheap marketing scam that makes us felt cheated. But then, it did not affect our happy mood at all … and I’m still clueless why. I usually would have boiled at that moment and ran amok stomping at every bouncer I can find, but I didn’t.

Already a bit inebriated from consuming beers during dinner, I began to pour glasses after glasses of whiskey into my throat. Same with the rest. I believe we did that because we’re very happy. There were a couple of blimp chicks that kept bouncing in close proximity that could make us york out our half digested dinner, but apparently that did not happen. Instead, some of our members dubbed her as “actively cute chubby girl”. Man, no shit, this is some kind of hint that we’re affected by something even more bigger than celebrating our independence.

PukeMachine, Ricky and Sam (Ricky’s soon to be wife) arrived much later on. Of course the gang looked even more happier upon their arrival. I even announced PukeMachine’s arrival out loud to the gang - which we almost gave him a standing ovation clap. Oh wait, we’re already standing at that time - coincidence perhaps.

We drank like thirsty camels - storing the sweet nectar called whiskey into our humps (which was actually at the front side … coz we weren’t real camels, if it’s not that obvious to you). The gang was getting so worked up with the artificial happiness booster (also known as alcohol) …that the girls started to talk about some inane stuffs to each other - like complaining about the boys, or talking about getting married. We’re getting happier by the minute.

The crest of the night happened when Karen got real inebriated and started to dance skankily around without worrying about herself looking absolutely goofy. I made a mistake by laughing out loud ridiculing her for being such a lame drinker - to which I paid by getting smacked back repeatedly by her. Damn, this is an overdose of happiness.

Everything went quite blur towards the end of the night. My lack of soberness affected my brain from registering much details about the night after that. But I manage to recall some stuff I’ve said last night, that turned the stone on why …. we’re all so happy last night.

“I know I’m gonna puke when I get home tonight. But no matter how difficult it is for me, I am glad that I have you guys as my friends… “. Everything seems to make sense to me after that. We’re happy not because we have a National Day to celebrate … a holiday to enjoy .. or money to party. We’re happy because we have a rendezvous after missing each other for so many months.

I went home last night and hugged the toilet porcelain bowl, put my head into it and flushed my stomach contents out.

*****

Here’s more interesting quotes from the BODs last night. (which I managed to spy out).

“Hell, I felt like barfing but I couldn’t. Maybe the barf mechanism inside my body has already malfunctioned.” - Emily
“The guys are useless.” - Emily
“No matter how useful a guy is, he’s still born from a woman’s womb” - Sam
“You’re so dumb for not organizing a banquet for your wedding.” - Sue to Emily
“The blimp chick is not active. She’s actually trying to burn her fat and enjoy partying at the same time.” - Michaelooi
“The night would have been much better if we come out without our girls. Look around us man.” - Luis
“I’m not drunk, ok ?” - Karen (while wobbling on her feet)

My friend Animal has a new name now. Animal no more. He’s now known as the PukeMachine. Why is that ? Allow me to narrate.

Last night, the BODs (Board of Directors … my best buddies) decided to come out to have a drink. Ronnie was here for the weekend (from KL) and we’re kinda looking for an excuse to have some fun. Initially, it was suppose to be a clubbing event .. but then, when some of our girlfriends figured that they wanted to have a slower night, we finally settled down at one of those lame live band pubs to consume some alcohol.

It was all beers last night. Buckets after buckets of them. By the time we reaches the 4th bucket, Ronnie started his usual twaddling shits. He would talk about girls, about things that he himself doesn’t understand and challenge the everyone to drink with him.

Most of us knew Ronnie’s style. He’s only tough by the way he taunt, but he’s always the first to crash from intoxication. So, we kinda took him real easy. Well, except my friend Animal. He may be an accountant, but he’s a bit slow on the intellectual side. He’s full of emotion and likes to “over-do” everything.

Take for example, if our ring of buddies were to talk about changing engine oil, he would go nuts to talk about some kind of V8 engine that runs on somekind of exotic belt that requires certain type of refined engine oil. You know, to the stage where everyone basically would go quiet and had to change topic. You get the idea.

So, it was the same situation last night. We’re taunting each other with drinks. It looked as if we’re getting wild and wanted to destroy our liver - but actually, we weren’t. It was just our usual way of having fun. But it’s all serious with Animal. He REALLY thought we’re aiming to bust our livers last night. He went especially extreme when Ronnie frivolously ridiculed him for being too emotional for his girlfriend.

That was obviously a blatant mistake - for we know Animal is a hypersensitive guy. Once he’s into something, he would never stop. He downed beer after beer taunting back at Ronnie for drinks. Ronnie, being as his usual self, procrastinated in drinking and was fending him off with tonnes of bullshits. It went on like this for almost the whole night, without anyone realizing that Animal was getting real zonked for downing too much beer.

Then, came the moment of truth. Animal suddenly opened his mouth and some beige colored slop of viscous semi-digested food came out pouring onto the floor. It went like this –> BWWWUUUEEEEKKKK !!!! I can tell it was a mixture of home cooked dinner (rice and some hint of meat.. healthy diet) through my experience in handling alcohol victims. Alvin and Ricky, being closest to him, immediately bounced out from the nuclear waste leakage in a speed that’s hardly believable. Everyone sort of like flabbergasted witnessing Animal performing the barfing stunt.

His mouth was kept open for the whole few minutes and the broth of alcoholic mayhem continued to pour out from his mouth onto the floor. There’s so much of it that it could even drown a couple of crocodile having sex. (alright, that may be exaggerated … but you get the idea). He went on barfing, until there’s no more stuff to barf, and continued to barf out his stomach linings - of .. you know, those slimy stuff from your internal organs. Oh my god, it was so gross.

When his barfing stops, he remained still with his mouth open… apparently in a position waiting for something to come out (Ricky actually took a picture of that moment … I’ll see if I can get it posted up here). By that time, Alvin was clearly irked by entire incident and began to give some comment about him. One of the comment that would register in our mind for many years to come :

“Damn it… Animal’s like a puke machine.”

Now, you know why….Animal’s got a new name. The PukeMachine.

P/S: PukeMachine was then dragged home by the gang, unconscious.

Update: Here it is … the priceless moment … it will be a picture to be remembered for generations….

Sometimes, we kinda stumble into stuffs. Random stuffs. Stuffs that we would never think that could be leading to something disastrous. It just has to be the “right stuffs”, in the right time, at the right place. And I kinda experienced such “right stuffs” yesterday.

You see, I have been drinking on Saturday night with a bunch of buddies - and kinda got myself real inebriated. As always, I will usually get upset stomach the next day, you know, chemicals stirring shits inside my stomach and purging slimy viscous diarrhea all day long. Yesterday was no exception, my stomach started to yell out it’s signatory melancholic rhythm since early morning … and didn’t manage to sleep well.

Slapped with an extreme hangover, I woke up way past noon. Basically, I had lost about 30% of the fluid content inside my body and was as dehydrated as an egyptian mummy. I then frantically stumbled my way into the kitchen to pillage for something to drink - something sweet or sour, to revive my dead tastebuds from the excessive imbibitions the night before.

It was then, I suddenly smelled something nice. The aroma of something cooking. It didn’t took long for me to find out - that it was a pot of super spicy Asam Laksa soup that my mom was cooking. (Asam Laksa = sweet and sour soup, Thai style, with lots of onions and other spices. No added preservatives). Absolutely my favorite. Then, as if it’s not delightful for me enough, I’ve also discovered that my mom also prepared 2 other dishes - steamed minced meat and a stir fried assortment of vegetables. Oh my god. Nothing comes closer to describe the word “heavenly” than how I felt at that moment.

I immediately turned into a very hungry person and started to feast on the dishes. Kinda like a restock session for my lost minerals and dead cells the night before. I ate like wolf who had just been off it’s vegetarian diet. I downed a few bowls of the super spicy soup and hoovered a large portion of each dish without remorse. Goddamn, I felt so recharged and great after the meal.

Now, if you still haven’t realized the trouble I’m in, let me shed some lights here …

Asam laksa soup - main ingredients = tamarind and onions. Tamarind is known to have the characteristics like a natural laxative. Onions are known to build up gases inside your stomach.

Minced meat - main ingredient = meat. It creates more mass inside your stomach and practically, was the raw material for all types of shits.

Stir fried vegetables - main ingredient = broccoli. Broccoli’s are known to cause toxic gases to build up in your stomach.

Alright, with all those laxatives, gas bombs and mass of meats inside my stomach, coupled with stale whiskeys from the night before - it wasn’t long before my stomach started to have a life of it’s own. It started with a low frequency growl, then with more gurgling weird sounds. It was as if those chemicals were concocting themselves to prepare something explosive. It wasn’t a very pleasant experience.

Well, the growling went on for the whole afternoon, until when the time came for me to have the lunch leftovers for dinner. This includes my aunt’s bowl of nice wine-marinated pork, in addition to the deadly dinner that I had. And that was it. That was when the disaster starts. The dinner sets off a washing machine dry spin reaction inside my stomach and I had to practically crouch down to counter the storm. It felt like a few thousand PSI pressing against my stomach linings and pressure was building up. Fast.

I reached to the point of unspeakable agony and suddenly, I saw a bright light beaming down from the sky. The dark stormy cloud started to part, making way for the bright light. That was the moment, when I ripped out the motherfuckest of all stinking fart one can ever imagine. It goes something like “PFFFFFFFVOOORRRTTTT !!!”. The “pfff” at the front was like the sound of leaking air from a set of pressure tyres and the “vorrtt” was like some heavy furniture being dragged across an apartment floor - amplified ten folds.

The supernova flatulence emanated some really toxic gas into the atmosphere - a miasma of broccoli, onion, minced meat, evaporated alcohols, with some hint of ammonia and bile … it was an unimaginable blend of terror. The smell basically seeps into every corner of the house, weakening every living organism in close proximity. Increased heart rate and blood pressure, unexplainable paranoia, were among the symptoms shown.

My mom wasn’t around but Emily wasn’t that lucky. She inhaled some of the gases and gave out a loud yelp. I offered to fan the toxic gas off her but apparently, that doesn’t help. It was at a stage beyond what a normal fanning could do. I actually thought of abandoning the house but, I still have 15 years of loan to go … so, I kinda have to stay until the gas dispersed.

Damn, who would have thought that a simple outing with friends .. and a nice innocent dinner at home could have created evil of such magnitude ? Only with the right stuffs.

*This incident happened a few years ago in a pub.

It was Christmas Eve and I was with the BODs (Board Of Directors - my camaraderie of best buddies) inside a pub that we frequented every week. We’ve been there so often that we’ve developed quite a close relationship with the pub operators — including those super sexy bunch of waitresses and bar dancers that has cleavages deeper than the Grand Canyon. *I missed those days..*

That night, was also Emily’s first night out celebrating Christmas Eve in a pub with me. She has never been to a Christmas Eve party in a pub before, while for me, it’s my 30 milionth time. That night, I was trying my best to behave myself as much as possible for a good impression (Emily was just my girlfriend back then). I just sat beside her playing nice.

Then came this waitress who hailed the name Alice. One of my closest waitress-buddy in that pub. She doesn’t belong to the attractive type but more or less belonged to the hamster-cute-schoolgirl category. Seeing that I was playing nice in front of my girl, she decided to prank on me.

Each time she passes by our table, she would sprinkle some of those glitter-dust my head/face .. and then flee. I can’t do anything to retaliate her mischievous deeds as I was suppose to ‘behave’ in front of Emily. The most I can do was to show her some international sign language behind Emily’s back. But that only triggered more sniggers from the sorority of waitresses near the bar counter.

It continued through the night, and by the time the countdown was over, I was feeling sort of blitzed from alcohol intoxication .. and my face full of those sparkling glitters - thanks to Alice who kept sprinkling and rubbing them on my face. Alright, as one would have known, alcohol intoxication always does 2 things to a bloke — significant boost of morale/guts, and a marauding over-confidence of oneself. During this period, the IQ level will usually plummet to it’s minimum level. U get the idea. That’s what exactly happened to me.

Not long after that gush of inebriation hit me, Alice pulled the stunt again. This time, I caught her arm out of my fast reflex. Alice tried to wriggle herself free, but to no success. Then, I yanked her over to where I was, and grabbed her head with both my hands. *Note: Emily was still standing in front of me facing the opposite side, so, she didn’t see what I had done..

As I do not have those glitter-dust to pour on her, I did the next best thing — I pressed my face against her’s ..and smeared the glitters to her face in circular motion. I pressed so hard… that some of my saliva actually transferred along with the glitters onto her face — dubbed by myself as the “extra ingredient”. The BODs saw what I did .. and was flabbergasted with their mouths wide agape ….on what I’ve just done behind my soon-to-be wife. Emily became suspicious of something wrong when she saw my friends with those “theres-a-monster-behind-you” look… and turned around to see what the fuck’s going on.

In that split second, as Emily’s head started to tilt a wee bit for a full turnaround …. I reacted by flicking Alice off my hands and face … catapulting her onto a bar stool nearby. I did it just fast enough for Emily to see Alice flying away in mid-air while I retracted my hands. By the time Emily gazed on me, I gave her a blank innocent “what?” look … while Alice was cackling like Popeye’s Sea Hag on the stool nearby. I was petrified and there was a 2 seconds buffer of silence. I thought she would fire up her flamethrower to roast me alive… but instead of that, she gave me a smile and wiped off the nervous sweat that almost trickled down my forehead.

A very close shave indeed … I almost lost my life on that Christmas Eve.

Lesson learnt : Always buy your own glitter on Christmas Eve.