12 step programmes and 9 cocktails

:: ...Sandstar...Manon...Ryujin... ::

We are conscientious students. We being yours truly, Angela the Class Rep and Jun the Big Boobed Chick. We were on our way to photocopy some notes, notes which weren't compulsory, I might add. (See my point about conscientiousness?)

As the shop was located at the furthest point possible from the block where the School of Comm is located, we had trudge through the foyer and, in the process, pass by the cool-looking School of Hotel Management. As luck would have it, there're a bunch of students inside in their chef whites crowding around the bar.

Wouldn't it be nice to be a Hotel Management student? Think of all the wine you could drink under the pretext of 'studying'. God that'd be great. You'd be able to attend classes shit-faced drunk and tell the lecturers you're doing research to find the wine that goes best with Braised Pork Knuckles. Not a peep out of them cos you have a 'legitimate reason'. That'd be the life," sez Saffron, a bit wistfully.

Of course, at that moment IRL what I said was the first 2 sentences, cos Angela the Class Rep menyampuk-ed and said, "You like to drink a lot hor?"

Jun the Big Boobed Chick nodded. At least, I think she nodded. WTF was running through my brain at that point in time, so I couldn't really be sure. I'm sure she'll correct me when she reads this.

Anyway, understand this. These people have never been out with me before. At least, not in the debauched social context that would require the consumption of large amounts of alcohol, which would then result in the commencement of drunken break-dancing in public. And yet it didn't stop them from making rude (ahem) but pertinent observations about my lack of a social life.

So that little comment made me think a bit about the extent of my drinking, and I realised that both Angela the Class Rep and Jun the Big Boobed Chick are right. So now I am sitting here in front of the PC re-evaluating my priorities, and we all know what's the best way to do that. We blog. Or rather, I blog and you read, hopefully without causing your gag reflex to kick in.

:: ...Islander...SouthernCall...Southern... ::

So a few facts about my drinking:
I never order more than 1 alcoholic drink in pubs or bars if I'm with friends. I only let myself go and throw caution to the wind (in pubs and bars) if either my bro or my dad is with me. Notice the underlined bits? That means a hangover bad enough to make you curse whatever it was that possessed you to consume 2 kegs of beer while your head pounds to three different beats. To the water aficionados, the pounding doesn't stop even after downing 2 litres of water before crashing onto any hard surface.

(I actually managed to quote myself. How cool is that?)

Number 2, I like cocktails. There's something about a guy mixing your drinks for you that's just way cooler than me mixing beer and wine together myself at home. 'Sides, they're colourful, and there's nothing quite like ordering something pink and dainty like a Cosmo to piss of male friends.

Drinking at home is better than drinking at pubs/bars because there're no lecherous old men staring at you and trying to make slovenly advances in the hopes that they'd get lucky. Drool is not sexy, ugh. I don't have to put up with borderline retard pickup lines, which is always a good thing.

In continuance of the point above, I don't understand why people drink in places where there're strobe lights and lasers flashing fast enough to induce epilepsy. According to a stalker-weirdo who found my contact on the sidebar, "If people could actually see themselves dancing at clubs they might actually stop."

As woefully inadequate my experiences are, I'm inclined to agree with him though.

Yet more continuance. I like bars that're quiet enough for an actual conversation to be going on. None of that 'music' that's the equivalent of jamming a sharpened knitting needle into your ears. Some nice jazz music and servers who would leave you alone after pouring. Close friends who wouldn't kick your still-warm body into a ditch the minute you're inebriated enough to lurch off the sidewalk and onto incoming traffic.

As you can probably deduce from this (unless you are shit-faced drunk yourself, I'm well on the way to my very own 12-step programme. Gimme another 2 years.

:: ...Ryuha...Hikanzakura...Daiquiri... ::

Notes:
Menyampuk: interrupt.

As usual, quotes are verbatim and edited for grammar and spelling. It's a freaking IM chat, we don't have to get anal about spelling.

Cocktail pics from here.