Sticky Rice

Despite the fact that my friends and I are sticky rice by convention ( as the term is called ), we actually rarely have Chinese dinners!

You know the kind - loud, boisterous meals with main dishes set out in the front for all to partake and share ( or to partake before it's inevitably hoovered by Strapping Shane! ) while everyone's busy chattering away with chopsticks clamped on their lips. Last sit-down dinner we had was months back when Charming Calvin - a stickler for convention - returned from Beijing.

So we decided to have a small reunion last night. Fitting since we were celebrating Dashing Dan's birthday. Of course the boy was unabashedly despondent the entire day since we'd kept knowledge of the surprise celebration from him ( orchestrated by Shane ) till the last moment letting him think that we'd all forgotten his special day.


Why am I all alone on my birthday!
How could we when we had Facebook to remind us!

Even dragged him out for a speedy lunch while the preparations were made at the party area. Then we all literally ditched him en masse. Possibly feeling lost and abandoned like he'd been kicked down the proverbial rabbit hole, our woebegone Dan couldn't have been more astonished when he finally returned to find the birthday cake waiting at home.

Certainly a surprise. Think he almost saw God again when the cake was lit.

Though I had some reservations about the semi-botched lunch plans to mislead him.

Thinking Dan deserved a worthy dinner as well, we all adjourned to an elegant Chinese dining establishment in Bangsar - fittingly named Reunion as well. Not my first time there since my ISO and I had trashed the place once in a semi-drunken fest of pork and wine. *ahem* Fortunately no one remembered us!

This time I was sober. Certainly dressed for the occasion since we'd been prepped by Shane to be in our Sunday best. As usual with a bunch of raging gay fellas, that called for a cam-whoring vogue session.

But we certainly settled down when the pork arrived. Did I say pork? I meant food.

Nah, I meant pork. And the thicker the layer of fat, the better! Never understood folks who whine and moan over the fatty layers. If you want lean, stick to dried turkey dammit! Had a few kosher dudes around but the rest of us cleared the plate fast enough so that they barely noticed the oinking offender.

Could compose an ode to the meat but I think Calvin said it best when he said, Share pork with someone you love.

And he wasn't drunk at the time.