SPARE TYRE NO MORE

23RD:

It was set to be another friday night. Just another in our succession of rambley nights.

We ate, then headed to Paragon.

We then made plans to head to boat quay, and headed to our respective cars.

This , like most well-laid plans, did not materialize. We decided on a more... scenic route and ended up bursting our tyre. How this happened, we can only guess. That guess would be that we curbed the car and burst the tyre in the process. Or rolled over glass. Or magic.

He was convinced that we did not have a spare, and so declined the help of 2 very chivalrous guys who ran to our help. Turns out we did, but we had already called for help, so we sat down and waited for it.

The Chia's sent me home, and I learnt that bad driving is genetic. I'd say that the last tauhueyjui of the night was in order to settle nerves.

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And to my brotha from another motha, my homie frm another mommie, our darling ST; Joel, confuckingratulations and best of luck. I know you're scared, but you know that you've got a treasure trove of well-worn love "experts" around. And there's always me. (:

there there baby it's just textbook stuff. It's in the A B C's of growing up.