Halcyon Days

No doubt my ISO is trying to turn me into a weepy sentimental mush before the end of the week ( which actually signifies the end of an era as he says ) since he keeps sending me unpredictably corny messages lately. Obviously bitten by a nostalgic bug lately.

Then again he could be rubbing it in emphasizing that the big 3-0 is already a year past.

My ISO : Damn. We gotta become responsible adults after this, don't we?
Paul : We can always lie about our age.
My ISO : Not unless you go for botox.
Paul : And dye my hair black.
My ISO : Do I have to wear fucking boring ties to work like you?
Paul : Probably. Garters too.
My ISO : You meant adult diapers, right?
Paul : Not unless you've been busy bottoming for a gang bang.

Yes. We are growing old disgracefully.


Fuck! Is that another grey hair?
Still, some of the messages he sent me were terribly evocative - and did bring a smile to my face as it was intended. Easy enough for him to do so since he has more than a decade of friendship to draw inspiration from.

Risk This in Siam

Not as wild as it sounds - certainly nothing to do with the naughtier things we did in Bangkok much later as consenting adults - but actually a reference to the strategic board game we used to play. I know I know... younger folks would be puzzled as to what's a board game but kids, way back when the prehistoric computer games were still dominated by likes of Pacman and Space Invaders, there used to be something called board games which featured lil tokens and dice! One of these board games was a megalomaniacal fantasy called Risk where we took turns slicing up the world map like mini Genghis Khans :)

Imagine a bare-bones pared-down Civilization without the nifty graphics and the smarmy, back-talking generals. Somehow or rather during the course of the game I always get landed with the Australias - and had to fight tooth and nail with incoming invaders to keep the border province Siam.

Yam Cake Tea

Not together of course. Can't imagine what that would taste like. But we actually used to have regular teas before our Maths Tuition back in school ( since the tuition was above this coffeeshop selling yam cakes ). We'd order a plate or two, smear the cake with chilli sauce and then proceed to badmouth our incompetent school teachers. By the time were done with the brief snack, our merciless tormentors would have been left hanging out to dry without a shred of reputation.

Sometimes though during his diatribes, my mind would wander leaving me to wonder whether I could get away with flicking sauce onto his white uniform and then licking my way down his bare chest as he strips down to change. Pythagoras Theorem be damned.

Thank God It's Friday Mass

Yes, we did have Mass every month on the first fridays of the month after assembly in the school chapel. Growing religious conservatism in the country hadn't caught up with us yet then. I was a bad Catholic. So was my ISO. But first friday mass meant a welcome relief from extra-dull morning classes so we usually snuck off into the back pews ( or at least behind the thicker pillars ) claiming religious devotion and spent the time napping away while the God-fearing altar boys dutifully sang their Glory Hallelujahs.

Still the mornings spent there inspired me to get stained glass in my front door.

Good God. I hope the messages from my ISO are not in lieu of a fabulously expensive birthday gift!