Reliving some memories with my cousins during our annual family trips several years back. (Yes folks, I keep my own travel journal.)
In the lingerie department of a departmental store at Genting Highlands:
“Don’t forget to buy your B-String underwear!”
“You can floss your teeth with it!”
Standing in line at a roller coaster ride when we were suddenly hit by a peculiar, familiar smell:
“David, you bang pui (farted) again, is it?”
“Uh? No?” (Coupled with a look that was a little too innocent.)
“But it smells like your fart’s smell!”
“Yah! So strong! I can even smell the fragrance from here!”
I miss those days. I doubt I can find them anymore. :(
All of us have grown up. Well, most of us. One is in National Service, another has entered Polytechnic (so we now have clashing vacation periods) and the last one has his head buried in books due to his impending major examinations.
What used to be a twice-thrice yearly affair has now dwindled to nearly naught. The last time we’ve all travelled together had been two years ago.
And to those who were constantly wondering where I’ve gotten my toilet humour tendencies from, I guess this entry says it all!
More hysterics hidden inside.