Looking back on drunken tales of yore (July 22-23 2005)

[MoreEvilThanSkeletor]

Note: This story first appeared on another forum, quickly being relegated to the dustbin for nonsensical threads. ISo this has been edited for spelling, grammar, and comprehension's sake.

"It is 4:08 AM. I started at 4 PM yesterday. I have to write quickly before I forget even more stuff. After class, I went home, changed into my fatigues and jeans and was off. Then it rained HARD.

I get to the pub and have a rusty nail and a few bottles of Red Horse (rough with a hint of diesel, but kicks like it's 10%, therefore good), and a Jamaican beef patty [yum].

Then I forget, but I'm in a group of 4 that becomes 2 then 4-3-7 and finally 4 again. We go to Patrick's house where he takes forever to change like a girly man. Then we go to Paolo's house and see his whorelet cousin come out with two of her uber-hot jailbait friends, and I make a bad
entrance by stumbling out of the vehicle. He grabs bottles of booze leftover from the last two parties he had in his place.

We pick up Reggie, my exiled friend's 19 year old neice, whom we later find out is a weak drinker, and drink vodka and brandy in the car during the probably 40km trip to Makati accompanied by the tunes of Sham 69, and some street children bugs us for change when we're in traffic and someone has the great idea of offering them booze.

Surprisingly, they accepted and we had a hard time convincing them we were kidding. So we're in Makati, with me broke after the pub, and all the "trendy" clubs have those bothersome cover charges.

I fucking hate trendy clubs, full of old and middle-aged people compensating for squandered youth, the nouveau riche, yuppies, the airhead pill-popping coke-snorting "upper" class, the bad kind of foreigners and the parasites that pass for their wives and girlfriends. After getting dragged to three or so of these clubs I meet an old acquaintance, this pseudo-goth troll who's mysteriously managed to bag a model boyfriend and has succesfully kept him for 2 years now, I think. "What the fuck am I doing here?", I keep asking myself. "You don't meet these people in proper drinking holes".

We even walked a kilometre and back to check out a club Patrick claimed to have "connections" with the owner or something, that came to naught as the owner wasnt there, bastard...

So we end up in some horribly small bar that doesn't let you smoke and has 3-year old Euro-trash techno playing and over-priced drinks. I bum a few Cuba Libres, my friends have White Russians (except Reggie), and the people we met all had girly drinks with enormous orange garnish and straws and umbrellas, and I couldn't believe the guys drinking them were
straight.

All the while, Paolo is bugging me to go out with this friend from Los Angeles who seems to like me. I refuse, not being in the mood for a relationship. He doesn't take it too well (controlling sod), calls me a pussy and threatens violence. I ignore him and he eventually calms down.

Reggie is left behind with the girly men. We take the longish trip back to our city (drinking of course), and end up in a houseparty mostly populated by high school kids and college freshmen.

As we arrived there, I saw that Mitch was on the balcony threathening to jump with people begging him to jump/not jump, I convinced him to reenact the "I am a golden god" scene from Almost Famous. He did not die, which was nice.

I got flashed by 16-17 year-old (with the face and body of a 13-14 one, which muddled me further) whose lower half was submegred in the pool. I was too pissed or jaded to be aroused though.

Have I failed to mention Paolo? I think I haven't. Well he was pretty boiled and was being a bigger ass than usual. Hitting on 2-8 girls (depending on whose story you believe) by the end of this tale.

I need not mention that while this is all happening we're drinking right? I write pretty good for someone who has had quite a few, yes? There may have been a fight between a guy and an object, and the object won, if I recall correctly.

We leave Paolo smashed on a pool chair to look for more chips and beer and end up in another nearby party after picking up Reggie, who has an invitation to a "tea party". Using her as a wedge, we crash it and drink lots of nice free booze, like vodka, zombies, and sangria. I run into to many people I vaguely know mostly from my former uni.

For example, there was that girl I used to have a crush on but ruined my chances when I drunkenly mashed her once in a crowded conveyance. Then again, she was high society, and I'm just middle class, it wouldn't have worked out.

I went outside to watch the drunken monkeys and saw an old dealer-type acquaintance who was nice enough to share some of his chocolate-flavoured blunt. I've been mildly twisted for a while when Paolo calls wondering where the fuck we went. So we grudgingly return to him.

People have begun to leave and we find him even more messed up, with him claiming to have continued drinking heavily in our absence since "he was lonely", or something.

Megadeth was playing, these kids aren't so bad if they can dig Megadeth.

The booze runs out and people go home, I helped carry a guy or two into a friend's conveyance. I think Paolo hit on his cousin.

Sometime later, we're on the rooftop area of a gas station which serves as a bar of sorts. It is full of noisy Australians with their Filipino sycophants, probably just off from work at the call centre. We spend what seems like hours there with beer, nuked hotdogs and mini-pizzas for company.

A short drive later, I quietly get into the house, go online, and type this. Crap, it's nearly 5 AM. Those periods spent resting my eyes between lines must have been longer than I thought. I may reget posting this later."