I did not have a good sleep last night after getting inebriated from an outing with friends. As a result of that, I had a terrible hangover this morning. I could have slept through the afternoon but I couldn’t as I was tempted to wake up to watch that Formula 1 race on TV.

As I was watching the race with my half-sober mind, suddenly came a very large object blocking the TV. It was my mom.

“What happened to you ? You looked terrible”
“I looked great mom. It has always been the same.”

It’s always a mistake to tell one’s own mom that he/she has been drinking the previous night. A mistake that could put one’s life at risk. The same principle was applied here. I was trying to avert my mom’s questions

“You look sick. You need to go to the doctor”
“I’m fine mom. You are blocking the TV”
“No, you looked very sick.”

Apparently, I puked real hard last night and had some tiny red spots developed around my eyes. The kind that looked as if I’ve been ‘curry chickened’ by a thousand fleas. I tried harder not to let my mom know about my adventures last night.

“Again, mom, I’m fine. It’s nothing serious. Really”
“Look at the red spots around your eyes ! I think you have measles”
“No mom… I’m not having measles. It’s just that …. I puked too hard last night.. which… causes the spots”
“You puked ? Why did you puked ?”
“Errr…. food poisoning i guess. Mom.. you are blocking the freaking TV”

And that’s when Montoya attempted his always stupid overtaking maneuver, which caused Button to mow a part of the Melbourne circuit’s grassy lawn. My mom almost made me missed that.

“You know, you got to becareful .. bla bla bla … grow up .. bla bla”
“Mom ! Can’t you do this later ? I’m trying to watch TV here.”
“bla bla bla”
“I’ll give you some money mom. Go buy yourself something and let me watch my TV … ok ?”

I didn’t know why I said that. Probably still very blur from the hangover and depravation of sleep. My mom let out a snigger and left me alone after that. I guess it doesn’t took her long to find out that her son still have some small amount of alcohol flowing inside his brain.

Right after the race, I told Emily that I “needed to solve some serious problem inside the toilet” — and purged real hard. I felt devastated after that … and crashed without regaining consciousness until 6pm today. Needless to say, it was one of the worst hangover I’ve ever had in my life.

Yesterday,

7.30 pm — went to cousin’s wedding banquet at a church.

8.30 pm — consumed a lot of beer. Esp with cousins. I wasn’t inebriated, but getting little bit tipsy. The liveband was good.

9.00 pm — when fake English accent cousin went up on stage for a speech, I made some very crude remarks about her funny accent and sent my table into laughing fit.

9.30 pm — I started to feel very smart from the effect of having too much beer. My friend’s father-in-law has finally awaken from his old age and started to dance when the liveband played a score of Hindustan song.

10.00 pm — the church members started to dance in the banquet. My friend dragged me to dance with them. I digressed, because obviously, my alcohol level wasn’t as high as them yet.

10.15 pm — the bridegroom joined the dance. It was a very murky situation. I told my mom … it was the night the evil succumbed to the good. The church members were wilder than us devils. My sis advised Emily not to let me drive.

10.30 pm — I had to bail the place and went to another birthday party at a rented bungalow. I drove.

11.00 pm — we started to drink a lot of coconut wine mixed with stout & whiskey. Tasted like graveyard. I was confirmed not mentally or physically fit to operate any heavy machinery or vehicle.

approx. 2 am — I joined the guys playing soccer - using our cars headlights as lighting. Note that i’m still in my formal banquet outfit.

2.45am — I was exhausted from the soccer game. My banquet clothes were tainted with mud. Took a shower and changed to clean clothes. Then continued to drink with the guys.

3.00 am — took a test drive on Tony’s new Honda Jazz. Saw a couple making out inside a car by the roadside when I was driving. The couple fled when I drove slowly by their car to check them out.

3.30am — I puked and decorated the toilet bowl with brownish chunks of unidentified organic matters. The guys forced me to drink more wine. Tony spilled some on my clean clothes and I threatened to set fire to his new car.

3.45am — a fat dog (belonged to the caretaker) came into the bungalow’s living room. I poured the dog a bowl of wine, but he knew I tricked on him. The dog is smart. My friends rewarded him plenty of leftover food. He got fatter.

3.50am — I was permanently unconcious on the sofa.

4.30 am — Emily and I left the place and went home.

My body aches as I’m writing this entry. More signs of old age.

*long entry - summarized happenings for the past 2 days

Organized a barbeque party on new year eve at a rented bungalow. A rather cheap one… because it was haunted. No shit. 80 bucks for a big ass bungalow with a garden big enough to accommodate more than 50 cars. But we didn’t tell the girls that it’s haunted because we do not want them to get hysteric about it.

But Emily was too smart to be bluffed. While Emily and myself were on our way to the bungalow, she asked me

“Are there any ghosts inside that bungalow ?” [she smelled conspiracy behind our plans]
“Nope.”
“You’re not bluffing me, right?”
“No I’m not. Even if there really are ghosts, they would be going out to party anyway… and they will be taking a break from scaring people tonight.”

Alright, that was the final lie I told for year 2003. Of course she didn’t buy that piece of lame lie. She soon found out about it after we’re halfway through the barbeque event.

The barbeque turned out to be quite ok. There were approximately 17 of us. We started at around 7pm and stopped at about 10pm. Then we went to a nearby pub for the big party.

By 11pm, we managed to settle down with a nice table and our booze ready. The countdown inside wasn’t really that grand, but it was alright. The theme was a bit boring - there were only a bunch of cheap balloons and stupid confetti’s - which a lot of them fell into my drink and I accidentally ingested a few. Last year, the very same club organized a foam party and it was incredible. Maybe the location of our table this year was not as good as last year’s.

And yeah, something happened to the air conditioner too. It was probably overloaded or something … the place was freaking hot with so many people inside and reeked of sweats + smokes. The bartenders had to take off their shirts to bear with the heat (or was it an excuse for them to show off their six packs?). The usually sexy + peachy waitresses were looking like pieces of used oily wax paper (you know, the kind of brown wax paper used to pack chicken rice..?) - they were sweating profusely and probably developed enough salt to pickle a full grown cucumber.

By 1 am, our group was almost flat out on alcohol intoxication and it was unbelievably stuffy inside at the club scene. We had to leave the party at around 2am before anyone got hurt. Staying inside there any longer could be suicidal — the place was like a gassed chamber with concentrated nicotine and smokes.

We went back to our rented/haunted bungalow and continued our barbeque party. It was quite an experience you know, to barbeque in the wee hours of a brand new year like this. But I didn’t party with the guys till dawn. I went to sleep at approx. 4 … too exhausted to go on - signs of old age.

Woke up at almost 11am and hung out (inside the bungalow) with the rest of the BODs (Boards of Directors - my best of best buddies). Went out together for lunch at 1pm. Noticed that all of us had developed that haggard look. Back home at 3pm. Things were pretty blur after that until a couple of them came over to my place again for more hangout sessions.

By approx 5pm, I was literally transformed into a zombie. Everything that reflected inside my retina (or whatever shit you call that) was monochrome in color. Seriously, if anyone hot were to offer me sex at that moment, I probably wouldn’t have given a fuck. I was absofuckinglutely exhausted.

Halfway through chatting with the guys, I passed out and fell into deep sleep on my sofa. Then, as my saliva was about to start it’s happy hour free flow, I was dug up again. We’re suppose to go for our dinner together at a hearsaid kickass Thai restaurant. With a paucity of my energy left, I went with them straight to a friend’s place to pickup his girlfriend. But halfway through, Emily suddenly felt queasy and wanted to go home. And I drove a friend’s car home to fetch Emily home. She immediately crashed into the bed out of exhaustion once we got home.

But I did not get to sleep yet - as I have to stay awake to wait for that friend to collect his darn car, and that bastard only came at approx 11pm. I crashed right after that and never regained consciousness until that sick fuck alarm from my PDA woke me up for work today.

Signs of old age are getting eminent. The next thing I know, I might be spending my new year in an old folks home. The goddamn truth is sometimes scary.

I was at a club last night with the BODs, and I saw an old friend, Mark. Mark was there alone at the club last night, and he was there to look for easy girls to pickup. We chatted for a while, and then he went off to look for ‘victims’, while I continued to drink with the BODs.

About a good half an hour later, Mark returned and came to me, his hand crutching a girl, but he was looking somewhat disoriented and distracted (he kept looking over the girl’s shoulder). He then did a perfunctory introduction to ‘his’ girl

Mark : Mike … I want you to meet my friend, Stephanie. Stephanie… this is Michael. A good friend. [glance over her shoulder]

Girl : Damn it Mark !! I am Samantha ! [face turned real nasty]

Mark : Oh… yeah, Samantha. That’s what I said, right? Meet Michael [glance over her shoulder again]

Me : Fuck you Mark. You forgot your chick’s name? You ought to be put to sleep man!

Mark : Heheh… not a big deal. Hey, I’m gonna leave her here, now why don’t you guys chat a little cos’ I got something really important to do?

I then saw Mark bolted off hastily towards another chick, which I presumed was his new target. Obviously, his mind was full of that girl and this Samantha was his canceled project.

Poor Samantha.

I don’t know what was she thinking. Mark was off somewhere and never going to be back, and yet, she still looked content and shit. If it was me, I would have fumed off or at least went to look for Mark to clobber that fucker’s head. But she hung around nevertheless. She even attempted to start a conversation with me by asking stupid questions like “I haven’t seen you around here before, you’re not from Penang?” I was about to tell her that she must have hell of a good memory to be able to remember every faces but, I wasn’t in the mood to talk to her. So I blurted some bullshit that I was away in London for some kind of assignment. And then she said even more things, which I couldn’t hear because of the loud music, and I do not intend to go anywhere near her (because my wife was at the table next to mine)

Even if my wife was not around, I wouldn’t have continued the conversation anyway. She just isn’t my type for many reasons. Mark probably tackled her because she has a fuckable body figure, but her face, is the type that you’d want to cover up when you’re having your meal because if you don’t, it’ll come out from your mouth on your plate along with your gastric juice and stomach lining. Seriously, I was beginning to suspect that Mark actually has a sexual fetish for ghost and goblins.

Anyway, I continued to nod for about a good minute before excusing myself. I didn’t want to be rude so, I just took step after step inch myself away from her… and when the guys started another round of routine toast again… I excused myself by saying I need to get back at my table and bolted off.

Didn’t know what happened to Samantha after that. Mark did came back to check out on our progress, but that Samantha chick was long gone and I made a comment about his taste. His response was just a short comment - “Dude, sometimes, where you’re out of supply and nothing to do - you can’t afford to be choosy…”

I’d rather jack off.

I didn’t go out with my buddies yesterday. I usually parties on Saturday nights, but not yesterday. I just didn’t have the mood to enjoy myself while my father is ill like this.

Here is the sequel for the ‘ICQ meeting’ story (read the first part if the title’s new to you):

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Well, after the first incident with my ICQ friend, Jess, it was not long before Jess & Pornstar arrange for another trip up to Penang. I initially had some reservations about their trip, but Jess was able to convince me that PornStar was innocent. She was piss-drunk back then, and everything was an accident. And she promised me that it won’t happen again this time.

Being a nice person I am, I was like - ok, we’re cool about it. And Henry was also convinced that the unwanted incident was instigated by excessive alcohol intoxication that fateful night. It probably wasn’t PornStar’s fault so, we gave our green light for the second meet at Penang. It was a fucking mistake.

This time, as a precautionary measure (I don’t really know what precautionary measure they were considering), Jess brought along 2 guys with them, her brother & a friend. (Zoyee wasn’t coming). Don’t quite remember their names but, who gives a crap. It’s not important.

Anyway, we arranged to meet at Penang’s famous Gurney drive before we begin the night. So I was waiting with Henry in my car for them to arrive. And it wasn’t long before they show up. I can still remember vividly - once they stopped their vehicles behind ours’, I witnessed a very disturbing sight. We saw PornStar, jumping out from their vehicle, and ran like a dangerous retard towards our car. Henry saw the whole thing too.

I gave Henry this perplexed look, and my hand automatically engaged the first gear. I then sent him this telepathic message that it was his call if I should hit the reverse gear to run over that shit behind there, or I can hit the gas pedal and never return. But he didn’t get enough time to react, for the next thing we knew, PornStar was already inside the car. That was when our nightmare begins.

First, we were requested to bring them to a karaoke lounge. It didn’t sound very bad at that time, because I enjoy singing myself, you know? With the ’super golden voice of mesmerizing’ and stuff? Yeah. But I found out pretty soon that I was in for a really long night when PornStar began to wallop the microphone with her ‘call of the wild’ howling and of what resembled people farting through their mouth. It was a torture. It felt like she was trying to infect us with sexually transmitted disease through sound wave. Our eardrums were pricked and grilled for approximately 2 awakening hours before we adjourn to the next event - clubbing/boozing.

Once at the club, we were fed with plenty of booze to void of our sobriety. Then, when we were blitzed enough to be careless, PornStar made her move. She grabbed Henry by the neck, and started to sexually abuse him (them fucking sex offenders never learn.) The next thing we know, Henry got ‘curry-chickened’ (love bitten) on his neck and was all shocked by PornStar’s wild advances.

Henry then flicked PornStar away and tried to feign a pass-out. Like a distressed prisoner of war commando, Henry then discreetly pulled me to a dark corner and asked for a brainstorm to get the fuck out of there alive. After a few nanoseconds of telepathic discussion - we decided to stick with the pass-out plan. Henry would continue to feign a pass-out from having too much alcohol and I would be carrying him home. And if everything goes as planned, we should be able to get out of the club and then we’ll be at our liberty to abandon that sex fiend and run for our lives.

And that was what we did. I swear we could have at least got a nomination for an Oscar, as we stumbled out from the place with PornStar screaming for us to come back (that scene will be like a giant bolder rolling down a narrow passageway with both of us running). Labeling her as ‘fucking scary’ is a gross understatement. No words can describe how fucking scared we are. But we made it out alive. As Henry and I were giving each other a five on our escape to the nearest mamak stall (it the night was still too young for us to go home), PornStar called me on my cellphone… bummer…

“WHERE AREE UU GUYYYSS !?!?!?”

“Err… Henry has passed out. He felt like shit and he doesn’t respond to anything… I have to send him home urgently.”

“LET ME SPEAK TO HENRY !!!!!”

[At the same time, Henry was gesticulating that he'd kill me if I do anything stupid]

“Errr… look, PornStar, Henry is totally passed out… [pauses for silence]… see? he couldn’t even speak a word…”

[She began to cry hysterically and cussed me loudly like I have killed the person she loves or something...]

“AAAAA … FUCK! BASTARD ! LET ME SPEAK TO HIM ! I WANT TO SPEAK TO HIM !!! ARRRHHH”

[picture: the Exorcist]

Then, I heard some struggling noise and a few seconds later, Jess took over the phone. She apologized and hung up. And we continued to whack our late night snacks at the mamak stall and discussed about the terrible night we just had.

The next morning, acting as a courteous Penangite, I sent a few sms to PornStar asking for her well-being and she did apologize for her seemingly bizarre behavior. And I also did make some comments about PornStar’s low self esteem and also gave some smartass opinion on how she should fix her attitude. But my friend Jess, apparently, shared that with her and PornStar wasn’t too happy about it and decided to make me her sworn enemy (or something like that).

Have not heard from her ever since. The last I heard from Jess, was that she got herself a decent boyfriend and was leading a normal life now. But who cares, really?