Full Moon Party

Okay, so the news is I turned 32.

It happened a few days ago. I am still coming down from the whole affair. (Or perhaps coming up is a better term.)

It was a day of weirdity. Silly arguments. No shows. Extravagance.

That is not to say it wasn't fun. Just odd. Must have been the moon.

Fidel's Cigar-tainted Karaoke

Shamil is no longer 32.

We no longer have any shame.

Three observations:-

i) Never believe Andrew when he says he won't sing - you will have to pry the microphone from his bleeding fingers;

ii) Never let Shamil talk about the wait-staff with a microphone in his hand;

iii) Never sing a song that consists almost wholly of Fred Flintstone's catch cry.

The night was an absolute blast. I couldn't speak the next day, though I, along with everyone else, blame that on the very quiet microphones.

Hmmm.

Thanks again to karaoke-wallah for the impressive frivolities.