it was called "Tipsy" when it should've been "MOTHERF***ING WASTED". but first, CJC Open House 2005.

ACFC WAS SUPPOSED TO COME BUT APPARENTLY NO ONE DID. SO MUCH FOR BEING GOOD TEAM MATES. =)

was supposed to be there at 7.30 am to help the soccer dudes set up shop but last night's DOTA-ing proved to be too taxing. ended up going there at 11. played a short match with my bloody Dunks, amidst the wet weather. VERY SMART.

why did i ask ACFC to come?

1. NEIGHBOURS. enough said.
2. band performances. nice to watch!

in the end, #1 did not happen since very little people came. #2 was mentioned cause i was helping out this band fill in the bass role that they so lacked for eons. these guys are good. all very skilled: Bose, Frans and Qin Xian. they never played a gig before, so i thought i could help them out. it's good to help. =)

everything was against Frans And The Pussycats/The Pussycats [take your pick].

firstly, the elements were against us. the wet weather made some teacher cancel our act until the rain stopped. i swear, it was the slightest of drizzles but apparently it was torrential, Katrina-like shit to the teacher. what was he afraid of? i had no idea. it wouldn't be worth [not to mention pleasant] to ask about someone's fear of precipitation. so anyway, yeah. the RAIN. like what the hell. The Redeemed played earlier under the walkway between the quadrangle and the auditorium on the second floor but we weren't allowed to cause some teacher got pissed. unfair? yes.

so we were disappointed as we thought we could really kick arse with the performance, the medley was planned so well by the guys, and Frans' voice would just cause a mass orgasm among the listeners. i went the Performing Arts Centre [PAC] to listen to some new curriculum talk by Ah Bang Paul since i would most probably be taking it with next year's J1s. sat with Nick Pat and his St Pat's homies. five minutes into the talk, i was already dozing off when something in my pants vibrated. Qin Xian called me, "Come to the qudrangle now. we're performing."

i ran to the quadrangle at a speed that would make Mr. I'm-faster-than-a-cheetah-and-your-mom Ariola jealous. apparently, some of the council people [God bless their souls] helped us to convince the higher powers to let us play. woo hoo! but it was the end of open house already, and there were only stragglers and CJ people left to see us play. but hey, who cares. as long as we play. so we played the set, apparently we rocked. we had gathered quite a crowd behind us. they took us by surprise when they cheered at the end of the performance. made quite a din. it was great.

but it was also a kick in the nuts for me. it made me so much want to jam with Werd. currently, our future seemes very bleak. our conflicting schedules are just so fucked up. [sorry, but it's something i'm very exasperated about]. and then there's the issue of our conflicting influences, the questions each of our levels of comittment, what our expectations for the band are. it just seems so out of sorts. now, whenever i think of Werd, it just pains me as the thoughts of our differences come to mind. i really miss jamming. some people just don't know how serious i am about Werd. so let me state it here now. Fuck everything else. SERIOUSLY. i don't want to sound like a tyrant, but really. it's either we all commit fully to this cause or whoever doesn't have any real interest whatsoever can fuck off. maybe it might seem a little too harsh but that's how i see things. it's all or nothing for me. commit fully or just don't do it. i would absolutely HATE to have us be stuck in a rut and remain as fools who are not forward-looking, not progressing musically and becoming stagnant or declining musically. i think it's both sad and sick how people can have a short passion for something because of one small spark and then snuff out the flame completely. maybe it's just me, but i highly dislike it when i see people who are interested in something and commit to it with passion, only to lose interest later and move on to something else or just end up drifting. i think that is really really sad. [not to mention fucked up] for me, it's all or nothing. so pardon me if you're one such person, for i find it extremely appalling.

the point is. please Werd boys. can we please move forward together. please please please.

sigh.

anyway, later that night, i had my maiden clubbing experience.











TIPSY at Indochine

my defloration, de-virgination, hymen-destruction, first time.

yes yes, i'm so unhappening and a loser. go ahead hit me with it.

so i met up with Elsa, Stacey and Jamie at Tangs at around 8-9. headed to the place at around 10 plus.

it was smaller than i expected it to be. it was initially static, no activity, except for the scanning eyes of both sexes across the room. the primitive but instinctive search for a fit mate. oh man, too much Bio. okay, anyway, yeah. we got wind [so smelly] that a raid was going to happen from 11-1. so Liang Bao and i accompanied Elsa as she well to fill up her tank, much to her regret i presume. like a petrol car filled up with alcohol. LITERALLY. Da Lun was a bit wasted too, maybe tipsy and high, but Elsa was wasted already. i TOLD her to EAT before drinking.

so, we re-entered Indo and damn! was it a party already. the dance floor was pretty much filled up and the grooves were spinning with shazam by the DJ who i must say did quite a good job. non-hip-hop fans like me actually got moving along with the grooves. and i finally knew how to appreciate hip-hop/club music for what it's worth. you hear them on the radio, and you think, "oh my god, another mindless song with no meaning, no sincerity." but if you hear Nelly going, "it's getting hot in here/so take off all your clothes" in the sweltering mass of bodies that is the dance floor, you realise that these songs were made for clubbing and dancing in general.

"Err-body in the club get tipsy" the theme song and the irony of the night. people were BEYOND tipsy. they were down-right WASTED. vomit everywhere, the glimpse of the drunken waltz of someone you know, heading to the bathroom to throw up, the Wasted OnEs [WOEs] going up to you saying, "hey i know you! you're a good man!" and then doing the drunken waltz towards the bar to get another shot. it was quite amusing to see such things when you're sober. outside, you could see some WOEs on the pavement sleeping or puking. some guy was so wasted, he went, "eh i want to go clubbing. why you bring me to sit rollercoaster?" another went,"someone call the police, Wisma is shaking." Ash was kind enough [and rich enough] to buy me a Bourbon Coke, which didn't make me feel intoxicated in any way. apparently the sober curse was as abundant as the wasted one. Jared had like 3 drinks and was sober. Graham, Jared, Darcy, Jeylani, Joce and Joette and i all sat outside the club for a breather and expressed amazement and amusement at how the WOEs acted. the Sober OnEs [SOEs] were real handy in the end. as they were the ones who looked out for the WOEs and sent them home or helped facilitate the regurgitation. it was cool.

i know now why people like clubbing and what's so fun about it. some people just like getting wasted. so i guess, if you're one of them, congratulations for attaining your zenith of elation. so anyway, what i'm talking about is the utter bombardment of the senses.

the strobe lights inducing the slow motioness. groovy baby.
the ever-changing lights, giving your irises good workouts.
the music blasting through the night.
the bass lines resonating through you.
the alcohol making everything seem so light.
the smell of her hair, the perfume off her neck. [just being general cause i'm a dude. "her" is no one in particular. i had no necks and hair to smell thank you very much. could be a he if you're a she but could be a he too. whatever make you happy=)]
the mass of anonymous bodies brushing, banging against you.
the sensuous grinding between you and that hot stranger.
kinky.

yeah. and dancing is taxing. not to mention DEHYDRATING. which is another thing. bring your own source of water if you can smuggle it in. i went with Joce and Joette to get a drink at the bar. parched souls looking for a non-alcoholic drink to quench our burning throats. the bartender filled up the glasses with ice, and filled them with Coke [i thought the spraying thing was uber cool by the way]. i used my free drink ticket to pay for mine. i asked how much one glass was. i was expecting a whopping 4 or 5 bucks. "8 bucks," came the reply. i was like what the f*ck! 8 bucks for a 3/4 ice, 1/4 glass of coke? i almost dropped dead. but the dude sprayed the drinks already so we had no choice but to pay. while taking the precious sips of 8 dollar cokes at the bar, other dehydrated dancers asked the bartender for water.

"hi, excuse me. can i have water please? just tap water."

"i'm sorry, we don't serve water."

"just tap water please. i'm very thirsty."

"sorry sir, we don't serve water. how about Ev-BOOM BOOM BOOM"

"what?"

"how about Evian? we only have Evian."

"okay okay. how much is it?"

"10 bucks."

what the thirsty dude said next was what exactly you just said. i almost spat out all the coke in my mouth when i heard it.

i left at about 2.30. others left at around the same time. WOEs left early. some SOEs left with them to send them home.

as i stripped to take a shower [ACFC boys, especially LAN shut up. Lan must be feeling a bit of traumatising nostlagia now], i had a whiff of my shirts. Malboro/Salem/Viceroy/Dunhill/Lucky Strike etc, lights/filtered/menthol/filtered menthol/ultra light etc cigarette smells 'purged' my nostrils. had a whiff of my jeans, Malboro/Salem/Viceroy/Dunhill/Lucky Strike etc, lights/filtered/menthol/filtered menthol/ultra light etc cigarette smells. i ran my hand through my hair, had a whiff, Malboro/Salem/Viceroy/Dunhill/Lucky Strike etc, lights/filtered/menthol/filtered menthol/ultra light etc cigarette smells. ran my finger through my eyebrow, had a whiff, Malboro/Salem/Viceroy/Dunhill/Lucky Strike etc, lights/filtered/menthol/filtered menthol/ultra light etc cigarette smells. had a whiff of my armpit, Malboro/Salem/Viceroy/Dunhill/Lucky Strike etc, lights/filtered/menthol/filtered menthol/ultra light etc cigarette smells AND the sweet smell of the sweat from a night of dancing. had a whiff of my pu-... er never mind.

today, monday, was the day people start asking, "what did i do on saturday night? i can't remember." or people start excitedly spreading the news of what they saw on that night. so funny.

coolness.

anyway, jamming on friday. LEARN NEW SONGS WERD BOYS.

have you ever seen
eyes so deep
that you'd drown in an instant
a smile so sweet
that you'd die of saccharine poisoning