...just another fun weekend in the world according to Khai.
Friday night was the MC2 award show, the event myself and a few colleagues of mine had been waiting for for awhile, 'cos we entered thte Young Guns awards where we were locked in Saito college with age old macs, a brief, 24 hours and no bed. And we didn't win. Fuck.
After that dissapointment, we went off to another colleague's birthday at La Bodega in Bangsar. Usually I avoid this part of town like the plague, but there was an occasion to be celebrated, and we were there to celebrate. And they had pint glasses.
Actually, the pint glasses weren't the highlight (RM20 for a pint? Fucking leeches). It was the tapas. Whilst I despise overpriced food, I have never in my life enjoyed a plate of mushrooms as much as I did sat in the corner of La Bodega with my co-workers. Even if they did cost RM16 a plate. I should have satiated my hunger at Devi's.
I had no intentions of getting drunk that night, and thankfully, I didn't. Miss Freelance on the other hand was wasted beyond repair and birthday boy himself puked merrily on himself on the way home.
Eddy'll probably write about it in his blog at some point today.After Bodega it was the Pharmacy, what used to be Voyeur, where waitresses in nurse outfits serve shots in test tubes and girls were dancing on the bartop. Now, usually I'd use a nice adjective before the word 'girls' in a sentence such as the last one, but when two of them were so large that greenpeace could be spotted in the horizon wondering whether they should take them back to sea the phrase 'slinky, sexy girls dancing on bartops' doesn't quite cut it. The other one couldn't dance for nuts. And I thought Malay's
had rhythm.
Saturday began with Diana, breakfast at Pan Bakery and I think I may be getting addicted to pancakes, sausages n scrambled eggs for breakfast. Then off to a gig in a steak house behind Vistana hotel.
Yes, a steak house. A steak house that stank of cockroaches. And man sweat.
Y2k and One Buck Short were on the list, but it turned out we were playing last, so we spent the day sitting in a mamak commenting on how Siti Sarah looked like Princess Fiona from Shrek and other contemporary issues. Played like shit. Would like to blame the equipment, but it wasn't totally the shit amps fault.
Then sent Diana back and went to Coffee Bean for a salad. Couldn't finish it. Something's wrong with me.
Sunday: german sausages for breakfast followed by many hours recording Y2k's upcoming album. As I was mixing the track down, Saiful was reading one of my X Men comics. I then heard snoring. Saiful was sat exactly as he was, the comic book firmly in his hands holding it before him, and the fucker was dead asleep. Filmed it on the cam and carried on.
Then dinner with Diana and off to the gig at Paul's and who do I meet: Yaya. Damn, it's been awhile. Her sister was there too. They'd come to see their friends band, Oblongata. Yaya was looking as emo as always, but an emo look that was nice, not as extravagant as before (and one that needed much less talcum powder). Hopefully I'll be able to meet up with her and her sister at some point this week for a coffee, find out how things are in the land of Ya.
And that's that. Got a gig tomorrow for both Y2k and Triple6Poser as part of this Sun Musicfest thing. Rehearsing tonight with Y2k after the gig at Paul's. Got work to do but really not in the mood to do it. Would much rather go home and watch all the DVD's I have.
Man, I hate it when I write posts this way. It sounds so... narrative. As opposed to monologue-y. Is that a word? Monologous...? Mongoloid?
