turning 21.

because this is a trip down memory lane of the events occurring on the night of friday the 13th, i have decided to be a prick and post the shots all in sepia mode. minor alterations done for clarity's sake (some photographers were roaring drunk mildly tipsy and to remove any would be ugly features of my damn self friends; we all want our friends to look pretty and gay, dont we?

basically, it all started off with the first bunch of people arriving to help me set the place up. i now know that if you want an event to start at ten, telling everyone to come at nine is not early enough - timing should be eight or earlier. friggin shit.






alright. they must've started on the drinks without me. bastards.

this being the advance party, i proceeded to give them a quick administrative brief to ensure the smooth running of events.





- - -
(army terminology. advance party: select group of men/trainees/cadets 'volunteered' to help in the setting up of equipment such as tentages etc. wherever the unit will be having any form of exercise requiring an administrative point; volunteers generally awaken at ungodly hours in the morning and can be recognised from their adoption of various yogic positions in the rear of the 5-tonner vehicle, drooling incessantly in their slumber.)
- - -





i dont think they were being very attentive. nevertheless, as an officer i've learnt that as long as procedure is completed, my part is done.
- - -

then came a whole platoon's worth of me army mates. hope y'all had fun guys.

i taught them the fine art of the pyramid game, after which everyone proceeded to cuss at me for imparting such a satanic game of drunkenness to them. hawhaw, that wash funny, washnt it?




the guestbook was in pristine condition. until...

- - -

then the walking tsunami of disaster crashed upon the joyous gathering of the fellowship of the ring; this human disaster had multiple piercings, skill in guitar-work and a penchant for chaos. it was my cousin chalk.

**at this point, people who are confused by the names chalk and wongcheok should simply understand this: my cousins are all called "wong cheok fill-in-the-blank". it so happened that my cousin thought chalk was a pretty cool name and copyrighted it first. my friends named me wongcheok because of my good looks. i know there's no link, but its a fact. and its my blog. so there. **

chalk did not waste any time, and promptly hitched up with mr ang mo kio, kenneth phua (yes im serious - this faggot took part in this year's mr singapore pageant), amanda and diana. the spirit of voracious stomach-wall punishment and light-headedness known as the killer ginseng was released.





killer ginseng spirit: "oh master, what art thou commandst?"

chalk: "make us drunk and happy souls! let us keel over from delirious spasms of alcohol-induced stupor and sexual exhilaration!"

killer ginseng spirit: "uhh. okay. thats a new one."





thats what a half bottle of josmeyer ginseng spirit does to you, mate. 45% alcohol and an utterly disgusting taste make for instant (permanent?) reduction in mental capacity. if i hadnt sepia'd everything, mr phua wouldve turned out bright red in this photograph.

on with the story. we did a cake cutting at about 1130pm. half of the cake was thrown around in a food fight flurry. i, of course, was prime beef. i had cake on my face... smeared all over my clothes... under my shirt.. i even had cake up my damn nose. when i showered later on, i teared chocolate from my eyes.

this cake war was of course started by the destroyer of civility, chalk. fret not at the interruptive bastard, my dear fans! i later fed his right cheek a righteous slice of chocolate cake in return for his maliciously evil behaviour. heh.






uhh. it was a setup. i swear it. i was so not smoking that night.

of course, not everyone was busy throwing the cake around. others like desmond were inflicted with the spirit of the killer ginseng; these deviant individuals went around in search of their own, ahem, forms of entertainment.

in this case, desmond went around hunting for blow jobs.



"one for the camera, honey!"

that was just plain sick man. desmond you sick fuck!

wipe that cake stain off your collar!

- - -

at this point of time in the evening, the two late-ass grannies fashionably late gorgeous young ladies, maddie and shupz, promptly made their entrance. thanks for the shirt and the studs, madeleine! and thanks amanda for the bunny suicides too! heh. i forgot.

lest i forget, maddie's new crush avis tagged along too. the nice fella offered me ciggys and drank even though driving. so thats ten points from wongcheok as well. score!

poor avis, however, was forced at gunpoint into joining in all the girl activities.





i admire his guts. but since i was the birthday boy and star of the evening, i by default had more guts than anyone in the house. so the first sentence was just light banter to lure you into believing that i am mortal. which i am obviously not, because the computer tells me i am godlike whenever i play dota on warcraft.

to avoid the increasing noise levels in the main room, many fled to the hills and sought refuge in the adjacent bedroom. some had also been overpowered by the killer ginseng; may god have mercy on their souls.





but there was no running from the spirit of recklessness and tomfoolery so unleashed by the killer ginseng. even in the bedrooms, many a hero met his doom when confronted by the twin evils of absolut vanilla and chivas regal.



you cant even begin to imagine what found its way under the beds.

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special mention:

this one deserves special mention. because without the combined efforts of the below participants, none of the events i have written about would ever have been possible.

thank you, alcohol. because even our lord jesus turned water into wine.





this was what was left at the end, by the way. you can estimate how much drink was converted into morning-after hangover from here. and i met with plenty a loose screw that morning, let me tell you.

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dont take my word for it.

see for yourself.

the grateful dead: part I





and... the grateful dead: part II





inability to recall the events of the night before led to some pretty messy situations in the morning.





woot... kids these days.

yup, thats pretty much it. my 21 party on friday the 13th. oh - everyone got a door gift too!





stylo right? better be man. i hand sprayed every damn one myself k. if you came and you dont have one, come get from me. still have some leftover. can use for next year's party. heh.

p.s- chalk also vandalised the front cover of my guestbook. damn you, chalk!