A tale of tall Leos
Two of my taller friends (let's face it - one of them is my tallest friend!) share the same birthday. But fortunately, they opted to celebrate it on different days.
So on Friday the 13th, we headed to Timbre for Bryan's party where the cake was very aptly a L4D one. Good planning, Burbur. But the stars aligned and what do you know know, the band started to play Zombie as the cake was brought in. I mean, come on...
So here's the awesome L4D/Zombie cake and the happy birthday boy feasting on eyeballs
But it wasn't all ghouls and graveyards that night. There was a very chabor moment when four girls from different Convent schools discovered that they all belonged to the same house (and hence wore the same CHIJ badge). In typical girl-fashion, there was delighted screaming and clapping of hands, and a rush to commemorate the event with a photo.
Red, red botak head...
And Eug and I also decided to show them how it's NOT done
Happy Birthday, Bryan. Hope the hangover wasn't too bad!
Last night was a slightly more complicated affair. We started out at Cafe Iguana to fuel up for an evening of vigorous partying. The birthday girl and our waiter suffered from serendipitous timing. For example, cue discussion on male proportions. Tipsy birthday girl comments that men who are petite in that department are tragic. Waiter appears by our table with cutlery and looks stunned. Then discussion on astrology. The Leo comments that Uranus is now entering Pisces. Waiter arrives on time to hear 'Uranus' and is then treated to hysterical giggling. Enter a discussion on weight loss. Hapless waiter walks past just as birthday girl declares that the boobs grow smaller too. Horrifically funny.
Stomachs filled and inhibitions lowered after the Happy Hour Margaritas, the forfeits appeared. Having already exposed herself to the waiter, Eve continued the promising trend by introducing herself to random strangers as Cherry QQ, conferring kisses and lapdances on lucky clubbers and generally being a good sport.
Somehow we found ourselves at Lunar because a wily dude persuaded us to join his friends for a party. Initially we had fun taking photos like the ones below. But then after a Chivas and green tea (because sh** whisky should be mixed), and a woeful Mandarin love ballad, we decided that although the club was very nice and the guys seemed like decent enough blokes, it wasn't quite our scene. Moreover both Eve and Christina had friends headed to Pump Room and it wasn't on not to turn up.
So the royal highnesses had to get off our thrones and head off
Pump Room was, for lack of a better word, pumping. I think we all danced till our feet were on fire (and that's not a good feeling), and shouted till our throats were sore (also not a good feeling). I know it doesn't sound like fun, but it was. Eventually though, limbs grow tired, the air begins to feel stale and the crowd starts to get on your nerves. Like a professional athlete, it's always good to time your exit before a catastrophic fall from grace. So we wisely left before the party got old. Maybe that just means that we are old. And if you had heard us croaking along to the songs playing on Class 95 FM in the taxi, the advancing years would have been confirmed!
Still, what a great girls' night out!
Happy Birthday Eve! I know you didn't wake up with a hangover :)
So on Friday the 13th, we headed to Timbre for Bryan's party where the cake was very aptly a L4D one. Good planning, Burbur. But the stars aligned and what do you know know, the band started to play Zombie as the cake was brought in. I mean, come on...
So here's the awesome L4D/Zombie cake and the happy birthday boy feasting on eyeballs
But it wasn't all ghouls and graveyards that night. There was a very chabor moment when four girls from different Convent schools discovered that they all belonged to the same house (and hence wore the same CHIJ badge). In typical girl-fashion, there was delighted screaming and clapping of hands, and a rush to commemorate the event with a photo.
Red, red botak head...
And Eug and I also decided to show them how it's NOT done
Happy Birthday, Bryan. Hope the hangover wasn't too bad!
Last night was a slightly more complicated affair. We started out at Cafe Iguana to fuel up for an evening of vigorous partying. The birthday girl and our waiter suffered from serendipitous timing. For example, cue discussion on male proportions. Tipsy birthday girl comments that men who are petite in that department are tragic. Waiter appears by our table with cutlery and looks stunned. Then discussion on astrology. The Leo comments that Uranus is now entering Pisces. Waiter arrives on time to hear 'Uranus' and is then treated to hysterical giggling. Enter a discussion on weight loss. Hapless waiter walks past just as birthday girl declares that the boobs grow smaller too. Horrifically funny.
Stomachs filled and inhibitions lowered after the Happy Hour Margaritas, the forfeits appeared. Having already exposed herself to the waiter, Eve continued the promising trend by introducing herself to random strangers as Cherry QQ, conferring kisses and lapdances on lucky clubbers and generally being a good sport.
Somehow we found ourselves at Lunar because a wily dude persuaded us to join his friends for a party. Initially we had fun taking photos like the ones below. But then after a Chivas and green tea (because sh** whisky should be mixed), and a woeful Mandarin love ballad, we decided that although the club was very nice and the guys seemed like decent enough blokes, it wasn't quite our scene. Moreover both Eve and Christina had friends headed to Pump Room and it wasn't on not to turn up.
So the royal highnesses had to get off our thrones and head off
Pump Room was, for lack of a better word, pumping. I think we all danced till our feet were on fire (and that's not a good feeling), and shouted till our throats were sore (also not a good feeling). I know it doesn't sound like fun, but it was. Eventually though, limbs grow tired, the air begins to feel stale and the crowd starts to get on your nerves. Like a professional athlete, it's always good to time your exit before a catastrophic fall from grace. So we wisely left before the party got old. Maybe that just means that we are old. And if you had heard us croaking along to the songs playing on Class 95 FM in the taxi, the advancing years would have been confirmed!
Still, what a great girls' night out!
Happy Birthday Eve! I know you didn't wake up with a hangover :)