There’s nothing Chrismassy about the last picture. So, here’s a change:

Merry Christmas, you! Check your stokins for coal. I got one, last year. I got dust, this year.

I know it’s 6 hours late, but the pills the doctor prescribe for my inflammed tonsil and my green goo is the fast lane to slumberland. It puts you to deep sleep almost right away. Infact, I’m gonna take one now. I need my sleep for the christmas party tonight.

I need to properly categorize my entries. It’s a mess. Maybe, I’ll do that umm… umm… next time.
Adios xx

Taken on Friday, outside the gym.

The following paragraph is somewhat gross, consider yourself informed: My nose is manufacturing mucus in hyper drive. Its not your regular white mucus (I won’t mention what color exactly) and this indicates bacterial activity. Some how, my more-than-usual bacteria infested mucus has shimmy its way to my eustachion tube (a tube which connects inner ear to throat). Thus, detoriating my left ear hearing capabilities drastically (imagine underwater). This isnt a first (probably more than ten times already) and seeing I only go to the hospital for ear infections, I consider myself an expert in the ear, nose and throat region. I know the vacumm technique, though, its a hit and miss. If you’re lucky, you can skip the antibiotics. It does slightly work this time but I’m gonna give it one more day. If still there is no signs of improvement, I’m gonna see a doctor, demand the antibiotics and ear drop right away and skip the lets-get-to-know-each-other crap.

These are my babies just a few minutes in the oven. Well, not really, I just chuck all the ingredients in the bowl and my little sister did the rest. Its Betty Crocker’s double chocolate chunk cookies. Did you know they double in diameter in the oven? They look like cat shit on a very bad day but ‘Dont judge a book by its cover’. Its crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside, which is perfect! Mum’s bakery and FunBread bakery in your face! Haha. I’m baking more of these suckers Monday afternoon, probably in gingerbread man shape just because its Christmas.

I have odd cravings just the second I step into bed these past few days and I don’t know why. Could my attempt in quiting smoking (doing great by the way — nicotine free for 3 days) play a major role in this freakishly weird cravings? And what freakishly weird cravings I’m refering too? Potato. Yup, out of all the edible things, its Potato - plain ‘ol potato. I had potato jackets the night before, and today, its double deep-fried potato wedges. Yes, still trying to remain in the potato genre. Who knows what tomorrow’s craving might be? Mashed potato, maybe?

On a complete starchless (i guess) note, I’m trying my hands on baking chocolate chip cookies tonight (if time permits, that is). Its my first baking attempt, so wish me luck that my house doesn’t go up in flames. And even if it doesn’t taste that good: just say my baking totally passes your expectation, okay?

While sitting down on the wooden jetty waiting for God-knows-what, out of the blue, we felt the sudden urge to fish. We made our way to the fishing store and had a crash course in Fishing 101 by the Filipino guy who works there. We bought our complete set of fishing gears, surprisingly, for only B$17 and cast it to the nearby Belait River. It rained shortly after and I’m all itchy. We didn’t catch anything, not even a shoe! What I learned today? Check weather forecast before executing outdoor activities.

Incase you missed my last ‘Ronald & the gang’ entry, here’s part 1 of the Ronald and gang series.

They performed at the Riveira Cafe, again, but this time the audience doubled. Apparently, their last performance was so well received by the public, they were re-invited by the management. We (Wafi, Hafez and I) had a little chit-chat with his father cum manager. Okay, it wouldn’t be classified as a chit-chat, more like ego boosting. His father was so proud of his sons, he came to us to feed his ego.

This is a really summarized version. It may sound alittle robot-ish because I turned it into proper English.

Ronald: Hey

Affy: Hey, again, here?

Ronald: They paid us last time and we just can’t say no. Its money. Plus its the holidays.

Affy: How much?

Ronald: Enough to get me those speakers. (the speakers is as huge as mini-fridge)

Affy: Hey, found a band name yet?

Ronald: No, not yet. Its hard.

Affy: How ’bout Ronald and the gang?

(we laughed then his father butted in)

Manager: Well, how did he (Ronald) play? Great right? He’s good on the guitar.

Affy: Yeah, he played well. When did he *pointed towards his 10 year old son* start playing the drums?

Manager: When he was 3 years old, he started knocking the furniture with chopsticks to the Bollywood beat. He’s been knocking ever since.

(insert unrelated ego boosting shit-chat here)

Manager: We finally bought him a drumset after endless nagging, earlier this year.

Affy: Ohh…

Manager: He plays like a pro now. He learned all that just this year. He’s extremely good.

(our conversation was intercepted by his 10 year old son, Razkan, 60 sec drum-solo)

I have more pictures but I’m too lazy to tag and resize them.

Affy-

You’re in for a surprise, maybe, and I’ll only let a selected few of you know by January. It’s not a strippers party extravaganza or anything of the sort, so don’t get your hopes too high. It’s not certain, yet. If you have no idea what the fuck I’m talking about, just let it slip and continue reading.

We again went out and this time, it’s not Marilyn’s Cafe (although we did stop-by after the event), it’s Riviera Cafe adjacent to the mucky brown Belait River. I was relunctant at first because I had a severe stomach-ache that afternoon, after much persuasion from a deary friend, I attended the gathering. We convened at a joint-table at Riviera to watch Ronald and the gang (I don’t know what’s the name of his band, so I made one up), consisting of him and other 2 family members — his little brother and his other little brother. Left to right: Ronald; on the guitars, his brother; on bass and lastly his 6-7 year old brother; on the drums. They played well. Really well, actually. His brother is amazing on the drums, considering he’s only 6 years old. For a little boy his age, he played the drums way beyond his years and definitely received a few woahs from the audience. Equally, all three brothers played stunningly on their respective musical instruments and no doubt, that they have the musical gene in them.

I bought Bully (by Rockstar games, google it) on the PS2, today just to fill my time during the wee hours of the day. Sadly, as I sat on the comfy couch, inserted the dvd, waited a few seconds, and probably another few seconds, it took forever to load. I tried numerous time but to no avail. So now, I have absolutely nothing to do and I’m taking it back to the shop first thing in the morning. If she doesn’t want to switch, even with the receipt intact, I’ll demand my B$3 back! Enough to get me a pack of Marlboro’s. And that makes me happy.

So, until next entry, I’m gonna check on my cat to see how’s she doing.

P/S: To Stella, if you’re reading this, I’m extremely sorry about yesterday - my laptop batt went flat in the middle of our conversation. I’ll further enlighten you with my mad photoshop skills (haha!) next conversation, kay?

P/S/S: A special thanks to Ronald for a great performance and for doing that really cool thing with his teeth on the guitars.

Affy-

Taken at our usual hangout spot, a wooden jetty just beside the Belait River.

With my cigarettes and red-bull re-stocked, I could be the happiest kid around if it wasn’t for my Maths Syllabus D paper 1 examination earlier today. The first few pages of the paper was easy peasy lemon juicy but at the middle of the examination, I swear my brain turned into blood slushie. I couldn’t think straight. I felt like walking out of the examination hall and run around in circles. Other than that, the examination hall was a huge refridgerator and we were the cold meat inside. Hence, the constant thought of peeing. It was pure torture I tell you.

If that wasn’t enough, the invigilator was wearing the most hideous looking pants I’ve ever seen in my entire life and that’s really really really really distracting. It’s hideous looking, I just want to cut him into small bite pieces, marinate him in HP Sauce for a day and invite my friends over for a barbeque. It’s like an itch you can’t scratch.

I know it’s really disturbing. Picture quality is slightly low because my N70 doesn’t really do a stunning job when it is zoomed to the max.

The pants is clearly wayyy to big for him or any other sane human being, unless you have a butt the size of a bus. The excess material make his butt look big and really saggy. Heck, it is even enough to cover half of his torso (see picture). The pants could also be a parachute. To make things worst, it’s plaid.

I feel sorry for the ol’ chap. I would love to give him B$50, just to get a new pants but I’m broke.

Moral of the story? Don’t wear pants that is 6 sizes too big for you or any other sizes too big for you. If it’s big, go find another pants. Besides making the salesgirl feel like shit and humihilating her in large crowds, I think that’s why they are there - to find a size which fits you.

This is Affy, signing off. xx