Climb Every Mountain

Fortunately it wasn't with a gaggle of singing nuns.

Although their saintly prudishness turned out to be eeriely similar.

Still Jaunty Jared made a far better sight in tight pants than a Mother Abbess in a black habit leading the way up the mountains. Just to show our visiting bud Beret Bill the wonders of Malaysian nature.

So after a dinner of cow brains and tendons, then a harrowing spinning drive up the steep mountains, we found out that we had to trudge the last kilometre or five to the top. The rest of the motley crew ( all belonging to the Holy Order of Endless Celibacy ) seemed peppy enough to be hiking hills and vales in the wintry cold of night with blood-thirsty mosquitoes abuzzing. Musically inclined, Lanky Lex even led the crew in humming cheery folk songs about raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.

Fraulein Maria would have been proud of her charges.

Me, I felt like a crazed militant Nazi wanting to sentence the heartless lot to a prison deathcamp for making me walk a mile uphill. Uphill! Don't they know that superior beings like myself should only be carried up by buff slaves in a sedan chair?

:)

Kidding.

But only barely. Jack and Jill must have been sick in the head. Huffing and puffing up a hill to fetch a view of the city isn't my idea of fun.

Jared : Isn't the wonderful view worth it?
Paul : Don't make me break your crown, Jack.
Jared : But it's beautiful! You can see the vista of the city lights for miles.
Paul : The only way you could voluntarily make me walk up a hill is to have Chris Evans naked and oiled waiting up there for me. By then with that kinda motivation, you'd all be left behind in the dust as I race up the hill faster than you can spit.

Obviously Jared couldn't solve a problem like Paul.


We came up here all the way for tis?! Mother of GOD!
No gorgeous blond Aryan firestarter found at the top of the hill unsurprisingly ( well other than Beret Bill! ). Only dark quiet isolated spots just perfect for making out. A fact that I would have applauded heartily except the Holy Order of Endless Celibacy that I had come with screeched hysterically at such a libidinous notion. They were there only to worship the view. Mother of God! So these lonely goatherds from the Holy Order traipsed around snapping shots of the city skyline.

Obviously these hills aren't alive with the humpy sounds of making out.

But then Jared promised me a better world on the other side of the hills. And you know what, he was right - just after we crossed over the hills and tumbled down to the foot, we arrived at the Marketplace. Yes, that sinful meatmarket of iniquity with soused twinks and barechested gymbots. Seems like the gay city had christened a new watering hole.

Even the prudish crew wasn't immune to the hedonistic charms of the Marketplace. Seriously. Took only seconds for the Holy Order to get defrocked.