Sunday, January 04, 2009

Moo-re booze

What, was it like three years since graduation and my chica classmates look so hot? There's the Mutya mom who four months ago gave birth to her firstborn and no ounce of fat anywhere, the Miss Ponds and Bea-Alonzo look alike who seemed to me added little bulk but was nonetheless pretty and the erstwhile experimental lesbian who manages to look like someone from a cover of Vogue. I know I've violated my vow not to attend reunions but nevertheless, after constant prodding from another classmate, it was my text that would make everybody remember and actually go. Jeez, guys, been three years, might as well pass the organizing scepter to someone else. Gosh, we look and sound so friggin' naive back then and look at us now talking about serious shit, work, sex, blowjobs, cunnilunguses, more work, more sex, more booze, our pet projects, documentaries, acting stints, marriages, failed relationships, giving birth, losing weight, gaining weight, the hilarity of it all. 'Twas great to see you guys, and I guess see you next time, when we already know what to do and where to go after being spent and wasted.

6 comments:

aajao said...

you have a vow not to attend reunions? good thing you broke it. now you have realized a lot of things you've never imagined in the past.

happy new year, jay! ;)

jayclops said...

Hahaha. It's just some stupid vow I know I'm going to break. Honestly, it's really tiring but yeah, the memories always make up for it. Happy New Year, ya!

Anonymous said...

The only people who go to reunions are the successful ones. So said Bob Ong, and I say that's full of crap. People who don't take these reunions seriously also go. I did. I went as once-divorced and still a bum.

The Scud said...

we also had a small tapok2x a week ago. yearly event na.

jayclops said...

Isko, we can actually go and pretend as some awesome bigshot or a sore loser depending on what will be more fun. Hehehe.

Anonymous said...

hi jay. nice reads here. keep this going. anyway, the vow thing is interesting. while everyone was going out for the season's reunion, you had such a vow. Weee.

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a f—king big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f—king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f—k you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f—king junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f—ked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?

Renton, Trainspotting