Weekend Synopsis…

St. Pat’s Saturday

A thought from Suz after listening to the radio in my car about St. Patrick’s Day bash in SG. We were on our way to our very own drinking session in Banyan Bar;

“How come they are celebrating St. Patrick’s day when they are not even IRISH?!”

*Growl… growl…Fibber…*

Well, Asians love emulating any festivals where the main celebration evolves around alcohol, I figured. Like Oktoberfest… for frikkin’ sakes, we are not Germans! Yet we still enjoy paying about RM 100+ each to celebrate it in hotels.

The non – German, RM 100+ paying Malaysian includes yours truly.

It’s conditional insanity. It’s enjoyable.

Suz was just bitter knowing that her Irish ex was possibly having a good time and she was just pissed of with the whole him not able to get over his own ego.

There’s a reason for everything Suz, maybe, he is meant for someone else who is just as boring. Afterall, beautiful men have always been uninteresting ieà boring…

Reality Crap

I was obliterated by the AF suck-fest.

It was a rerun, and there was nothing good on TV, and my brother was holding the remote. So I blame my Brother for turning me into a blithering idiot for one whole hour!

I got to know that there was no prelude concert, like how they used to do in the past few years, and that the ‘guru besau’ is now Roslan Aziz, the Simon Cowell of Malaysia for the Idol franchise.

I have to admit, AF did produce a few (Verrry few) potentially good singers. I DO like Marsha, Felix and Farhan from the past instalments because they were genuinely good, nevermind that they never won because us Malaysians are not into acknowledging people with real talent. I mean look at that poser, Mawi for frikkin’ sakes! A broken down juke box sounds better than that bugger.

Watching it yesterday was horrific, it felt like one of those really bad chick flicks, like watching nothing but Hillary Duff and Jessica Simpson 24-7. Bad TV magnified.

Like how Nazrul @ Cucuk Langit would put it;

AFUNDEEEKK!!!

Kari Ayam weekend

Phil was trying to impress me when he cooked chicken curry last weekend.

He undercooked the rice, and burnt the pappadam.

I was supposed to not lift a finger, according to him, but I am the practical type. So I fixed the rice, and fried some more papadams, edible non – burnt ones.

I taught him how to eat with hands, also fed him, which was rather enjoyable, in a kinky sort of way (Don’t ask.)

By the end of the day, both of us smelt of curry powder.

Men who cook are just such a turn on. Men who tried all out to impress me by cooking something beyond his culinary comfort zone is an even bigger turn on.

Grrrr… :P--> GROWL MIANG!