The eyes of Shinigami.

Friday night were spent sweating with a whole place of Singhs doing the banghra. The rules were simple, like I mentioned never bend down. Cold beers, so cold it tasted like nectar. Bottles of Dewars opened. Surrounded by high ranked officers. On the left, we have a prison warden. The right, ASPs from different state of the country.


I am literally surrounded by the pigs in blue.


Saturday night, we have the reassurance of being safe from police road blocks.


With a cold beer in hand, this uncle told me, "You don't worry about road blocks. This friend over here (he pointed to another man sitting at the side) will tell you which road to use."


We were safe alright. We spent the last hours of Saturday drinking Jack on plastic cups and munching on Domino's pizza. A friend texted before the wedding dinner saying we are invited to his birthday party at a service apartment. Drinking merrily and munching pizzas watching Green Bunny hang on to his dear life playing Leisure Suit Larry's Magna Cum Laude.


A lot of spanking fun and 360 degrees peeing on anyone in the game.


On the way up, drunk Russian models were frolicking with their tattooed cute butt. Apparently girls from Andrew Models were staying over at the same service apartment that night. I only had one wish that night. Oh God please let me speak Russian because saying 'spa si bo' out of nowhere sounds totally awkward.


But in between all that, I managed to watch the infamous Death Note. A very interesting story I must say. All this boils down to a million dollar question.


If you would have found a notebook dropped by Death, where when you write a name in it, the person will die in 40 seconds or according to how you want the person to die, who's name would it be? Someone better pray hard, that I don't find that notebook.