Poppy Garden

Poppy. Poppie. Poppi. Whatever way you spell it.

Last Saturday, I was forced to be dragged along to Poppy. Little have I thought that the bouncer would think that I was underage and demanded for my IC. The legal age was 21, which was still quite a long time to go. Honestly, it didn’t feel good being stopped from entering the club, especially when I was going there against my will. I wish I could just catch a cab and head back home, but I couldn’t. Later on, a friend summoned a person-in-charge, whoever it is, and I was allowed to go in then.

It was so so so crowded that we could hardly make our way in. Even when we were in, we could not possibly stand still without someone pushing his way through our sides every other few seconds.



Amidst the sea of people.



Hik, me, dunno-who1, dunno-who2.



Being pretentious =P



Posing for Yat’s camera. All photos credited to him =)



Got bored of dancing and discovered a new way of having fun. Rubbing ice cubes on others’ body. Or you might opt to throw it to whoever that tries to snap your picture XD



Freezing cold!



Nah, take that! See if you dare to cover half of my face again! Teehee.



You too. Wtfreak, why do people like to cover part of my face in photos? Am I too ugly or what? Jeez.



There, it was 3am, and finally we were out of the club (goodness, finally!). By then, my severe migraine was back to haunt me. Nono, it wasn’t time to head home yet. Another round of mamak which took us 1 hour or so.



By then time I finished washing up and ready to bed, I heard some cocking sound of chickens in the neighbourhood. Ok, I have no idea how you translate "ayam berkokok".

It was dawn.