You know it's all downhill for the weekend the moment you step into Orchard Towers on a Friday night. Joris was there with some colleagues, and they were partying carte blanche on someone's Amex; food, booze and women all. Ipanema is not my favorite place to party but it was alright for a change. I texted MGM, but he was home and refusing to come out but mentioned something about OT not being worthwhile until the "indecisive sex tourists went away and the hardcore drunks turn up".
By the way he was giving me a bit of a hard time about being given a 'lame acronym' like MGM, but it stands for Magnum. It really does. I didn't make that up after the fact. So there.
We went to the Living Room on the suggestion of a couple of friends, and was there till closing, when MGM decided to show up. But not to worry, there was still one more place open for people on a mission on a Friday night in Singapore, and that's Naughty Girl, again, at OT. To date, it's the only place you can head to if you want to stay trashed till the sun rises on a normal weekday night in Singers.
With the exception of Interzone, of course.
We headed back to The Roof, but not before I made a stop at the GHQ to pick up a bottle of hard liquor. MGM served us some tea, and we hanged and chilled and talked about the war. Well he talked about the war, Joris listened and I flipped through a book on strange sex fetishes in Japan.
Things get more absurd. MGM then brought out the Burqa he had from his days in the Middle East. There was some unnecessary suggestion for me to put it on, which I did, followed by the removal of my shorts and underpants. Link: Then the camera came out.
J and I finally headed back to the GHQ at 3 in the afternoon, had the kind of sex you have when you're feeling like What-The-Fuck-Whee!!!, and the weekend continued on. We were on a mission...
This was supposed to make sense. Really. Link: This is your brain on Kafka.
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