Which clearly shows you how tiny Belait town is- everyone knows everybody. Not only they’ve guessed it perfectly, they even know which booth/stall she works in.

To the girl with the unshaved mustache: I’m not sorry, this is for your own good. Geez, you even have more hair on your upper lip than I do (well, I shave). Get a razor and scrape everything off. It’ll only take a few seconds. Really.

I may be biased. My baby, Megan Fox, is in it. How can I not be?
We caught the 11AM show on Premiere day. And yes, I did not sleep the night before.

And now, it’s time for Harry Potter.

• Enough sleep is extremely vital. Three hours is not enough. Not enough at all. We were caught at Mjay’s playing Counter Strike till 3 in the morning the night before
• Paintball and Counter Strike are not the same. Don’t even bother
• Teamwork is crucial
• The sun is unmerciful
• Every little bit of padding helps. But since it’s scorching outside, it forces you to compromise. We played at the maximum safe speed. I think more than that, it’ll be illegal.
• The protective head gear can also double as a suffocation torture device
• Expect bruising. But fortunately or unfortunately, mine aren’t hardcore enough to talk about
• The one with the most gruesome bruise takes home the crown. Or at least, will be the talk of the crowd for quite some time
• Pellets are extremely unreliable
• Pellets aren’t very tasty. In fact, it tastes awful. See here.
• And lastly, it doesn’t hurt. Okay. Fine. Maybe a little. Especially when someone machine guns you at a short distance from the side. Damn you.

Gearing up for paintball. I think everyone is excited and secretly, nervous

More photos here and here.

Thank you to the Escargo Familia for inviting us to your paintball game. The entire event was definitely well thought out and well planned. We look forward for the next tournament. We will try to sleep and not nap next time. Really.

A special thanks to Mjay for lending me her volleyball jersey and Hadi for the camouflage sweater.

It wasn’t smooth sailing. We had our secret weapon, Mjay, out to bargain the fare. It was originally $20 per ride (which later I found out: I clearly had tourist written all over me as I had my camera hanging on my neck) when I initially asked, but she managed to get it down to only $10- nicely split between the four of us. I think it was because of Mjay’s long brown hair, coupled with her cute sleeveless pink top that made it all possible.

I think the phrase “Buleh runding wah” was the highlight of the trip. Jaie shamelessly said that to Mjay in his most seductive voice followed by few bats of his eyelashes. It was hilarious. After a quick meeting with the rest of the troop, Mjay coyly said $10 and Jaie obliged, without even a single hesitation.

So, thank you Mjay, for making this trip a possible one. If it wasn’t for you, we would’ve been sitting down by the jetty, staring at jetsetting boats pass by while waiting for our 7pm movie to start. Thank you.

We daringly hopped on the Putera and Jaie gave us a tour around Kampong Ayer. It was my first tour around Kampong Ayer.

Jaie had a lot of stories to tell, most of them shared with Izz – our resident joker and talker. While Izz kept our tourguide entertained, the rest of them were enjoying the scenery, while carefully ignoring the slight stench from the water.

I, on the other hand, was busy waving to unsuspecting passerby/residents. Let me tell you: having a bulky SLR on one hand and trying to wave with the other is not an easy task. I did manage to get a few good shots though. For a brief moment, I felt like royalty. But only a brief moment. Everyone was surprisingly supportive and friendly. So, if a random stranger was waving at you for no apparent reason somewhere near Kampong Ayer a few days ago, that was probably me. Yes, I have no shame.

It was all good fun. Although, in hindsight, I actually paid three bucks to get poop water splashed all over me. It was too noisy to pay attention to the tour-guide, so I didn’t get anything educational from the trip except a good splashing of shit ridden water. I was the only one lucky enough to get a taste of it in my mouth. It was salty. Adding salt to the wound, we spotted a floating used baby diaper shortly after. Therefore, if you’re wondering what dirty diapers stewed in a lethal concoction of bacteria infested liquid tasted like: it’s salty. It’s not that bad actually. Really.

It definitely was an impromptu KNK (Kenali Negara Kitani). For more KNK, a return boat trip to Temburong will only cost you B$14 (that’s B$7 if you don’t plan to come back for some reason. Haha). And no, you don’t need a passport to visit from Brunei-Muara. I asked Jaie. Haha.

For more photos, you can visit my Flickr [Kampong Ayer set].

Cheers!

We shared stories and experiences around our make shift grill and the dinner table. It was one hell of a night. Chickens harmed, sausages murdered and marshmallows burned.

Make shift BBQ

Stuffed

Towards the end of the night, we were so stuffed, I can’t even differentiate laughter and puking. It was crazy. But we managed to pull ourself together and drove around KB senseless right after. It must’ve been around half past midnight.

A “Coba!” night indeed.

Thank you Izz for the swell idea. Your mom makes the best cheesy blueberry tarts and mac&cheese. It’s out of this world. And you know how brutally honest I am with my opinions. Haha.

To the girl we met earlier at Supasave: I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to stare (not really) and you weren’t supposed to turn around either. I bet you like the attention when four of us were checking you out (be honest). And the thunderous laughter right after you caught us red handed. If you happen to be reading this: email me please. Haha.

Friends: feel free to steal, re-upload, edit or print the photos. Privatized photos in this set should stay away from Facebook. Haha.

(View the entire set here)

This is us breaking the social norm. Probably one of my favourite photos to date. Just to make it clear; this doesn’t usually happen. HAHAHA

Clockwise: Izz, Fez, Pure awesomeness, Tiera, Jody and Mjay

It was definitely a night to remember. How can one not remember seven sweaty hormonal teenagers crammed into your saloon/sedan car (despite arriving in three separate cars), rocking out to your thumping bass in a deserted parking lot, at the same time trying to figure out the best way to fit everyone in a single photo while carefully balancing the camera on the dashboard? We were a crazy bunch.

Too bad my camera died half way through the night.

We weren’t drunk, but definitely high on something. There were arson, Jollibee, face licking, presents and plenty of laughter.

Yes, I wasn’t in black. I didn’t get the memo. Plus, with everyone else miraculously color co-ordinated that night, I didn’t want to give the impression that we were about to attend a funeral; it is your jolly birthday afterall.

Lastly, keep on ‘pur. pur. pur. ple’-ing. LOL

Not to disappoint, here’s an excerpt from the book.

This girl had a nose job and told me that she has to use Q-tips to get the boogers out of her nose, because the surgery left her nostril holes too small for her fingers to get into. She got mad when I tested this by trying to stick my fingers into her nose. By god, she was right; I couldn’t even get my pinky in there.

I was glued to the screen like a pre-pubescent boy watching porn for the very first time. I think half way through the book (it was a 257 page book) my eyes were on the verge of jumping out of their sockets. I finished the book in a day by only taking short intermissions to eat (read: bigger is always better), pee and rest my tired eyes. Which also explains why I was absent yesterday – blog wise.

I am sticking to normal, old-fashioned, paperback books from know on.

I have a second book lined up which, according to reviews, should be equally as good.

Talk to you soon.

Because I have been doing nothing but eat, sleep, TV, internet, reading and the occasional socializing for the past few months, I have decided to be somewhat productive with the ample time I have right now. Therefore, when someone walks up to me and asks how I spent my long A Level holidays, I can easily and proudly say: I got fatter. Which, to me, sounds like the ultimate holiday.

I may not have interesting stories to tell about the former workplace I used to work for or how I got in to some horrific accident like many others, at least I DID something. Something productive. Haha.

So, while I’m in my little mission on my own, which frankly, may take some time, I have devised a plan to make my gradual transition from skinny to healthy virtually unnoticeable: I will now only take pictures with people much more skinnier than I am. That way when someone looks back at the photo, I’ll look normal and well, the others will look, errrr, not so normal.

Until next entry, I’m off to put on some pounds. First, by gorging on a delicious bag of peanut M&M’s. YUM.

This is us devouring on a crispy yet spicy fried chicken in our Place d’italie Holiday Inn hotel located smack in the heart of Paris. With an unappealing photo of me, chewing on, what seems to be, french fries. 

We didn’t know any other halal KFC branches, or any other halal restaurant for that matter, therefore we only ate this (KFC fried chicken) for three days straight. Chowing everything down with cold pepsi. It may sound repulsive and unhealthy, but it was the only thing we had.

In attempt to add a little variety to our not-so-grand menu, we opted for the spicy chicken bucket [trying to order food with little to none french is another story on it's own]. I remembered waking up with a tummyache every morning — I don’t handle spicy foods that well.

It was also probably the most expensive fried chicken I ever had in my entire life. If memory serves me right, it costs around 30+ euros per bucket. And considering I had a tummyache after the meal, it definitely wasn’t worth it. I’ll be much more happier eating M&M’s.

And that was approximately six months ago (just before Christmas). I have not set foot into a KFC chain since. Just the thought of eating chicken from the KFC variety is enough to make my stomach churn.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love my fried chickens. Just not from KFC.
Maybe some other day KFC. Some other day.

I am not sure why my recent posts are centered around food. It must be the post traumatic wisdom tooth extraction stress. Hahaha.