Butterfly Goes ZoukOut

When it comes to ZoukOut, I hold some reservations to what is considered the biggest calendar party event. For what is a local rip-off from Full Moon Parties and marketed heavily globally, I usually feel sorry for unsuspecting tourists who fly here specially to get disappointed.

Yet, I was wrong. Which I’m hardly ever.

Several things reminded me why ZoukOut remains THE premier party, the Disneyland of all clubbing affairs.

It's fantasy page ripped out of every hot-blooded normal males wet dream; Beach, babes, bikinis, boobs, butts and booze. There was never a better alphabet than the fundamentals of B. I wet myself thinking about it. And then, there’s every cyber nerd’s wet dream; free LAN gaming.

1. Babes

Somehow I’m beginning to realize the hidden wonders of Singapore. Perhaps I’ve been lost in trance anthems, intemperance with alcohol and addictions to shuffling that I’ve been suffering from a bout of myopia against pretty faces in clubs. I’m slowing coming out of that and back to appreciating and acknowledging where credit is due.

2. Bikinis

Minimum criteria to wear a bikini top is a B cup. If you’re a C, you will be ogled at. I’d drool if it’s a D, but only because of alcohol. Anything that has cleavage deserves an obligatory smile.

3. Boobs

I saw tits. Yes someone flashed me and I’m counting it even if it was a tranny.

4. Booze

$6 a pop isn’t basement bargain when you take into account the absolute fuck of a diluted concoction it is. You’d probably get high off inhaling whiffs of absinthe faster.

I’m going to take my time on this and be as detailed as my ailing attention span allows.

Getting there…

You know it’s a Singaporean held event when the event starts at 8 and the carparks are filled at 6. The other half of the ZoukOut population came here in canoes rented off St. John’s.

By the time LB and I got there, the carparks nearest the venue were all filled and we had to settle for the Gateway carpark which was so far, I was pretty sure we’ll be at Siloso beach in time for the New Year Party.

Some conflict in communication and general bad advice from me saw us deciding to walk there. We passed the Musical Fountains and LB took a piss into the fountain.

11.00pm: We start off on foot, absolutely sure walking to Siloso is the smartest decision all night.

11.05pm: LB thinks walking is a bad idea. I tell him “it’s just up ahead..”

11.08pm: Apparently, I’m wrong. LB suggest heading back to get the car and have it shifted to Tanjong Beach. I tell him,

Me: “No one walks half way and turns back.. just keep going.”

11.10pm: We check the map. Siloso is about two palm lengths away. Singapore is about half a palm away. I reassure LB that walking on is better than heading back.

11.15pm: LB starts yelling at me. I have stitches on my side and I’m out of breath. I ignore him.

By the time we arrived, the carnal visual fest was well enough to erase any retention of negativity. The bikini tops, the beach shorts… throw in bunny ears and you have Hefner certifying this.

A call from CokeWhore and we made a quick stop to the hotel room, tanking up on Vodkas and menthols. By the time we got back down, it was closing in on 1am but the crowd was still streaming in like it’s a Mango sale.

Getting Drinks…

I can’t remember how many drinks we bought but the first wave was 30 cups. Subsequently we cheated on the ticketing. We’d buy in stacks of tens and I’d hide a couple tickets then complain to them about short-changing us.

I can’t help being cheap and disgraceful.

The BAT incident…

When I went over to get Dunhill’s at the British Tobacco booth, I had my picture unglamorously snapped.

Me: “Did you just take a picture of me?!”
Guy: “Ermm.. ya.”
Me: “You gotta delete that.. my mum will not be happy…”

They broke out laughing and requested I posed once more with the pack. Then the video guy came in,

Video: “Pose with the cigarettes.”
Me: “Dun want lah…*pose and pout*”
Video: “Erm.. with the cigratte pack…”

This was an absolute gimmick worthy shot, given that ironically, I had a T-Shirt with the prints “Role Model” printed laterally across. This was a perfect foil against the conventional but as with everything creative and outrageous, it’ll be decently proxied and sensitized and never to be seen.

Photo taking..

By the time I was decently intoxicated, I was running around yelling at people to have their pictures taken with us. I didn’t ask or request for their photo presence, I demanded.
The only thing that exacerbated my peremptory demands into blunt rudeness was the constant injection of juices into my blander.

I applaud my streak at times to get away with the crap that comes out of me. I attribute it to mordant humor and a charming misdemeanor.

Me: “BUTT CHEEKS!! COME HERE!! TAKE PICTURE!”

This guy had on some white trunks and a towel tucked between his ass which was weighing the trunks down to mid level and a nauseous over-exposure of butt cheeks.
And despite me absolutely yelling and calling him on my on derogatory terms, he still came back to offer me drinks.

I love myself. Obviously men love me too.

I have no clue to how many strangers we ended up posing with, but CokeWhore estimates it to ‘half the pictures’.

It came to a point where they absolutely discouraged me against going up to hot girls for pictures and wanted me instead, to work my charm on gays, bad dressers and anyone who was physically dysfunctional.

Couple others dropped by. Huixx and Jules came by for a while. Red joined us once her friends had left and Ash popped by, muttered some vulgarities at me over removing her cap and disappeared shortly.

And that was it, the last of what I can vaguely remember. Dancing against sunrise, fighting against fatigue and exfoliating my feet with sand.