And some way, one way or another, it's over too fast.

Babs with her 4 Kings that made the "Cup of Life" (made out of whiskey, kahlua, vodka, and Sheridan's, which eventually caused it to curd up and evolve its own ecosystem", and Ben with the puke basin.

So there goes 2005. It wasn't as f*cked up as 2004 was. I was happy that 2004 disappeared. Too many people died. Too many days spent in camp. And not enough spent out of it. So on Dec 31 2005, Ben calls us up at around 930, semi-tipsy with "lobster oozing outta his ears". Head to his house at 11, bust out the alcohol and cards, and yea. =) By 1am we're checking out the chicks on the FHM cards, having cigars so we get mouth cancer on New Year's Day+1, and basically being a nuisance to his mother who was sleeping upstairs. She woke up. Not good. Then at 3am, Steph and I feel like a nice, 3am, alcohol-induced drive to MacDees to get some food. Newton is too far. "OEI EVERYBODY!!! GET IN THE CAR!!!" We fly past Maju Camp (where Babs strongly encourages me to turn into) and past a car with the letters P-O-L-I-C-E on it, at 100km/h, me screaming "WE'RE GONNA F*CKIN GET PULLED OVER!!!" at the top of my lungs, at 3am, with 4 other drunk people in my car. A W E S O M E.

Ben, being Ben, and drunk, thought we were gonna just go to the drive-thru and then go back. But being US, we decide to sit down outside. He didn't wear shoes/slippers/anyformoffootwear. So while standing around yelling "I'M POOOOOR AND I HAVE NOO SHOOOOOOOEEESSS...."... We decide to fashion a pair of MacDees designer shoes for him. Made of pure, genuine MickyDee plastic bags, bearing the ubiqitous Golden Arches, it is a perfect fit. Held together by a knot from two loops, and topped off with a "Curry Flavor" on the left foot, and a "Sweet and Sour Flavor" on the right. Simply exquisite.



I go home at 4am. Wake up at 7, pack my shit up and head out for lunch. We try this "paper steamboat" thing that Babs was scientifically telling us about in her drunken state. "Its.... like..... you know.... the soup in the paper...... and the paper is the bowl.. but the paper doesn't burn...... because.... of this... thermal thing." Ok she was right. I can trust my life w/her even if she was drunk while performing surgery. Where can you find a friend like that?

Steph with his non-flammable paper soup: