KL12

There are some holidays you embark on alone to ease your troubled mind. Some you take with your sweetheart because nothing beats arguing in a foreign city. And some you go with enough people to form a settlement.

This is officially the largest group I've been out of Singapore with, unless you count the one time I was abducted by aliens along with 4400. Any holiday of this magnitude of induced participation deserves a commendation on the logistical arrangements. Lodging, transport, weed, poker cards, French caps...

Minor set back on the transport up. I was half hoping for those first class coaches with private screens, massage chairs and hot towel girls in the skimpiest skirts playing peek-a-boo with me. The only thing I got was a free seat belt ass fuck when I accidentally fell back on the chair.

The only reason I went up to KL, was to party, which should be everyone’s priority if your parents brought up decently. And if you’ve been adequately educated and you have the decency to conduct yourself to the proper club ethics, you’ll know that it’s only proper to get to a club drunk on juice or stoned on organic desserts before you make your grand entrance to Rave joints.

Pardon my lack of proper introduction, this is my crew..

ED, Reznor, LB and Me – Single males with a high quotient for all things sinful.
Dek, RedBug – In love. Still blind, but I love them all the same.
Mun, WJ – Couple. Also blind.
Faith, Germ, Ash –Single women who lack my impetuous content for indulging in hedonism.
YJ- K12 Renegade.

And of cos, there was supposed to be..

Huixx. Who bailed out the last min. I called her in the morning and she said some horrible words like “not going” and “enjoy yourselves”, as well as others that made me smile a little. Like, “horrible hangover”. She was one person fully capable of starting a party and our appointed underground nightlife guide. Her no show has quickly relegated her down the Best Friend list and she's now commonly known as, The JC Friend.

The Clubbing..

Anyone who is a fan of trance or an avid lover of the Melbourne shuffle should catch the next shuttle down to KL. If you are a girl and you shuffle, you have to add, “Drop Butterfly a message”, before you book a ticket there. Girls are SO hot when they shuffle.

The only thing better than a girl shuffling, is a whole group of them. If only pre-mature ejaculation wasn’t exclusive to DOTA cyber geeks and was still physically possible to real men, I would have shot a load just watching 7-10 girls sweating it out on the dance floor with killer shuffles.

I’d tell you how much shuffling is a Prozac diet for me, but you, guilty of MTV commercialization and mass culture will never understand why I’ve moved from 50 Cent to Tiesto to a pure amalgamation of rapid beats and hard basses. If you shuffle, Holla.

The Highlight.. I could have died.

I’d have said nothing beats an ecstatic dose of hard trance and a bottle of whiskey, but that would be discrediting our return leg bus driver who rammed past the barrier at the toll booth.

I was half hoping this would escalate into a highway chase with 4 police cars, helicopters and a news crew with a hot reporter. That would have happened only if he was committing some class one felony charge. Like smuggling roasted pork slices.

Then it turned out to be some really trivial problem, a petty mechanical fault and some pussy gibberish about failed brake pads and how he couldn’t stop in time. I thought this was absolutely ridiculous. Just pedal the gas and when we need to brake, a hard swerve to the left or right lane barrier (depending on distance between each) would effectively stop the bus.

Best so if you can crash it into some other unsuspecting vehicles. Since it’s a possibility that their brakes might also fail, we’ll do the good deed and stop them before they can cause any harm to themselves.

Yes, the bus would have been in dire state. Yes, we’ll damage some public structures, but hey, it’ll only make us look like real wreck survivors. Nothing beats coming out of an accident unscathed, then proclaiming to the world that you are the next Super Hero.

The only thing that frustrated me was the bus going from winter to stuffy. A single fart was enough to kill everyone. The cops came, took some pictures and decided no vehicle with failed brakes should be on the road. What a dumb rule.

Look the equation is real simple.

No Brakes = More time for the accelerator = Getting home faster

When it comes to traveling, there’s no two ways about it. You either go safe and spend Christmas in the car or you speed. Yes, you’ll be more accident prone, more likely to kill an innocent pedestrian and chipping a nail from all that frantic gear shifting.

BUT, as long as your hair remains in place and you make it there 2mins ahead of everyone else, you’ll know it’s worth it. Cos, your life is only worth 2 mins. Safety and speeding are mutually exclusive, since one is a by product of stupidity and inflated ego.

What do we do when buses break down?

We get down to take pictures with the license plate. Only problem was the VERY ominous number plate.

AER 666

If you have no idea what this number means, it symbolizes the amount of time I will be delivering open palm slaps to you followed by your IQ and hopefully, your age. I’m a wuss and I only beat up idiots.

We ended up playing cards by the road shoulder because I’m an authentic Singapore and cards are our best travel companion. Except for condoms and tampons.

I can never have a normal holiday.