January 17, 2007

Don't eat before you sleep

My roommate offered fried rice last night. I told him I wasn't hungry at the moment but that I would be later. We dialogued: Roommate: " You know, they say it's not good to eat just before you go to bed." The Inquisitive: "Why?" Roommate: "Because, you're gonna catch HIV." ...!?!...

January 10, 2007

Knock, knock … it’s another new year

The year of significant technological progression I presume. We’ve been expecting you 2007, welcome to our imagination. Up next, a spicy New Year’s Eve complete with mischief, mild partying, and the casual chitchat. (Batteries not included) Enter Efrain’s future pad, the home of “Smart” company, and the place that hosted the ruins of 06 and the rebirth of a new year. We kicked things off with a midnight snack. Look! It’s a turkey, no it’s a plane, no it’s a finger licking, elbow licking, BBQ.

Chumy-boy feeds ‘frainy his first mouthful of 2007.

And then he gets stunned and falls fast asleep.

And then the fun...It’s ovary chummy-boy.
The wind shifted around 4am and we ended up at Primalima’s bashment. We tried to blow it towards the club earlier but as anticipated, it was jam-packed, not that we were enthused to go in the first place (crap!). So we spent the rest of the time cruising with chauffeur Carlitos alongside some hype trance music, mmmgood.
“This music is hype”
Ok, back to Primalima’s party. The funniest thing about it was the presence of her parents. Yes, imagine a 55 year old married couple trying to get some rest at about 4 am and about 2 yards away from their room, a boom box blasting the lyrics of one explicit old school Dr. Dre album. I’m talking a scratchy Chronic 2001 CD which for some strange reason, was fond of skipping, as if to give emphasis, on ear-candy like the ‘F’ and ‘N’ words. Another drawback, damn you hip hop. It was hilarious. After the party we all gathered in secrecy to celebrate the anniversary of our secret society – Estranged – and witnessed the sacrifice of those who couldn’t keep it secret.

Here we have Chumy-boy preparing to be slaughtered with a golf club.

We could have chosen machetes or assault riffles but our trademark weapon is a golf club. Yes, very rare in Belize and least to be suspected of in Supreme Court.

Here he absorbs the pain.

Carlitos: “That’s for squealing about the secret stuff!”

Chums: “Ouch!”

After the slaughtering those that participated in the slaughtering took a 15 minute break while the others took a 15 minute break. What, is there a problem? Yes, we all took a 15 minute break. The rest of the morning was spent having rum cake and yip-yapping about the rum cake.

And that’s how we welcomed the New Year. Now share your experience you twat and don’t try to re-read that last paragraph.

January 4, 2007

Shrimpy whimpy

I had shrimp this week. Twice! Trice!