The most enjoyable part of the trip is … having room mates.
Contrary to the usual quietness of my own room at home, sharing a room with D and G meant that the room was filled with a myriad of various noises comprising loud music, the occasional exclamation and squealing and of course – lots of conversation. (Which I really missed ever since I got home.)
Unfortunately, there is one minor downside of having both genders living in the same room.
If you guys have been following my Twitter updates while I was away in Australia, you may have remembered one particular post:
The only guy’s complaining about us girls hanging washed undies around the room. We girls call it ‘The United Nations’. (7:13 PM May 22nd from txt.)
Well, if you hadn’t guessed correctly, it is …
… hanging washed underwear out to dry.
The following comic strip (hastily drawn in the dead of the night at 2.00 A.M. – albeit one of my best works yet) sums up all our troubles.
Basically, we were highly restricted in where we could hang our … err … dirty laundry, despite the vastness of the house. However, overlooking all the trouble we had to go through just to dry our … err … undergarments, the whole situation was actually pretty hilarious.
P/S: Pardon the sudden influx of toilet humour in my recent entries! Heh.
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.