Pepper Lunch, I think Not.

If you want trouble, you will get trouble, that much is certain. Then, there's good trouble, and there's bad trouble, and I much prefer the former where the difference is that you get away with it. That is, waking up on Monday not 100% fucked and in the slammer about to be butt-fucked. And oh... If how you wake up on Mondays is a good gauge for how much good trouble you've been up to, mine have been pretty sweet.

The weekends hanging out with Joris started weird, ended up weirder, and has stayed here at an all time low. Every Friday I think, "Gee, it's going to be hard to beat last weekend." but by Sunday night I'm convinced of how wrong I was.

Sunday morning I woke up in a cab in Geylang to find myself heading to a Dim Sum place with Mistress H., Danielle, and the Ultimate Hobo Rob. Joris was there of course and there were a couple of other people who I absolutely can not recall.  The all time low was when Joris took out the vodka, Danielle spilled the pepper and someone suggested snorting it. No, wait, the all time low was when they actually started snorting it.

It was supposed to be a 'quiet one' originally, when we started out from the point of me about to fall asleep on my bed (as opposed to some random hovel) to meeting up with my little sister and her friends, to utter randomness. But random is good, the only plan we had for Sunday was to head to the beach. 

So we were at the Supper Club, which on this night was playing remixed radio hits, and making up for it by giving free Martinis to women. At some point one of her friends passed out, my sister had to go home, and Bastiaan arrived. I guess we would have gone home if he hadn't (yeah right), but he did, and he just had a pretty lame night, so I suppose I felt slightly obliged to carry on the party. There was also the other problem of having consumed so much vodka red-bull that the end was no where in sight.

I was about to give up and give in to a tame night just sitting around drinking when I bumped into Danielle, who was fairly drunk, had blisters on her feet and needed to be carried down the stairs. She immediately invited us to a party in Sentosa, so we went, after faffing around trying to purchase liquor from the 7-11 (not sold between 2 - 6 a.m.). There was also some faffing around on her part on whether or not she wanted to go to this thing, and I had to make sure plans did not change by staying in the same cab with her and her bro while the Dutchies took another cab (unlike the rest of SEA, standard international taxi carrying rules apply here, no Vietnamese family on the back of a scooter, sorry).

Yes, I was desperate of some excitement. I mean, how else do I find content to put in this blog? Very soon it will start taking over my life again...great excuse for living fast and not dying young. I mean, you can't maintain a blog from beyond the grave now can you, unless you're Woody Allen.

"We fulfilled our goal for Sunday." I said to Joris when we got out of the cabs. "We're at the beach... Sort of... Really damn near it anyway... Fuck it. It's not a real beach in the first place."

There was the strangest collection of random people in this hotel room. The best was Rob. Oh my god, he's an inspiration. I asked him what he was doing in Singapore, and he told me he was here on a VISA run. He is actually a professional hobo. He teaches English in China, but it's the same thing. He showed me all the money in the world, which was $29.90. D'oh. I heard him mention something about living behind a refrigerator in Toa Payoh. He also had neon pink paint on his face from a girl it was rumored later he wanted to get it on with. No, that's not fair... he fancied her.

I asked Bastiaan about his lame night with his colleague and he told me it started with him passing out in the Jacuzzi from drinks since brunch and waking up finding out that this guy and taken all his clothes and his money, along with the key to his apartment. I suppose you could give the guy the benefit of the doubt and say he was taking care of his stuff for him, but it's another thing when you get your wallet back and find out all the money is missing. It's a bit stupid isn't it, stealing from a colleague. Most peculiar.

Sunday just petered out after the pepper snorting. Joris, Mistress H. and Danielle came back to my place and passed out. Danielle sat on the couch and didn't manage to get out of it till 1 p.m. Joris sat on a deck chair by the pool and slowly migrated to the pavement by the grass path to avoid the sun (that was weird) and Mistress H. and I dozed under the blazing, cancer causing, tropical sunlight. For 5 hours.