Once Upon A February Weekend

… a man named Boyetus went to Project 6, Quezon City after his work to join the inuman at Jake’s house. Together with the ninjas Karu-san and Reyveru-san, Boyetus got drunk with a pack of Marlboro Lights and a bottle of the insipid Sparkling Lipton Iced Tea something.

Suddenly, in the middle of the fluid conversation about saxophone and tarantulas, Karu-san showed everyone his new amazing technique: SMS-ing while sleeping.

That ingenious move triggered Jake to fidget around his room on his boxer shorts until he came across with his old notebook where their old “SVS Road Trip Plan” was written. They smiled and remembered some of their adventures way back in college. It was classic.

Tape recorder? Semi-deadly weapons? They LOL’d & posted d pc2r on FB & replied “K” 2 Tres’ group msg.

Then Boyetus grabbed the Tapinauchenius gigas sling in Jake’s tarantula rack, wore his sneakers, and darted out the host’s house.

He was conveyed by a Sturdy taxi that fleetly dashed in the long and winding Epifanio De Los Santos Avenue, beating the red lights and defying the laws of motion until he reached his house in the hill of Guadalupe Nuevo in less than 10 minutes. He LHFAO and wrote what happened on his blog.

Unexpectedly, before he even finished the faux allegory, a Princez arrived and took Boyetus to the greasy spoon of Colonel Sanders located near his tiny abode where they ate a thigh and a bloody leg part of a cold breaded chicken.

A strange female varmint entered the restaurant with her epicene paramour and the former turned the whole place into a much filthier sty as she talked her stupidity out loud that everyone around got annoyed. So Boyetus and the Princez went back to the house and watched the National Geographic Channel until they fell down on the floor and died of high-blood pressure.

The two woke up about 1300 of  Saturday. They’re not dead after all. They just fell into a very deep slumber but the hang-over of chicken skin was still rushing on their napes.

Cups of coffee and sticks of cigarette later, they went to Manila for the Princez’ appointment to her enigmatic dentist.

After the adjustment of her braces, they bustled about picking-up their daughter and going to Fairview – Quezon City for the kid’s two-day birthday blow-out.

Ziann (the daughter) and her handsome father (Boyetus) didn’t actually want a celebration because of schedule conflicts and the mere fact that they just don’t like those kind of stuff. But to gladden the elders and other relatives, the plan still pushed through.

A late night repast and a deal with the Monster to the very convivial place of divine thin-crust pizzas and mojos ensued the killer 2.5-hour QAve trip. It was also the birthday of the Princez’ father so they seemed to roast two pigs with one long and sharp bamboo stick.

Nothing of note came about after that. Since the propensities to gobble up pizzas and pastas were assuaged, they forgot to invite alcohol and everyone got occupied in the family bonding while Boyetus played NBA Live again. No losses. At 6AM, everybody was snoring.

A rainy Sunday greeted the late wakers. They stood up from bed, goofed around a little, and set-off for the second part of Ziann’s natal-day bash.

Some Google searches via mobile and call-for-delivery shit inside a Tamaraw Fx travelling to Manila kinda prepared everything in the afternoon for probably the most salient part of their weekend – Ziann’s actual 8th birthday.

But unlike the night before, it was just a simple food trip at Boyetus’ house in Sampaloc – Manila. A cake, 2 bilaos of Amber’s Original Pancit Malabon, and two boxes of pichi-pichi were enough to feed a family of fifteen members.

More later in the afternoon, Boyetus took the Princez and Ziann to a store where the latter found her gift. It wasn’t a dog nor another big cat but a book about Philippine Folklore (with English translation).

It was perfect because the kid really loves reading and has a huge interest in local unsubstantiated creatures like KapreBungisngisTikbalang etc. She was very happy.

The three then schlepped from floor to floor and sought for nachos in big serving. A minute away from closing time, they finally stumbled upon the divino alimento at the nethermost extent of the commercial complex. They quickly munched and finished the beefy-and-cheesy-topped-tortillas, together with some buy-four-take-four-pseudo-Takoyaki and finally went outside to battle the conjoined fury of the dripping Sta. Mesa sky and the slippery road of Araneta, just to end another tiring but great weekend. They arrived home and slept happily ever after.

The end.

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