I’m having dinner on Sunday when Kenneth, whom I’ve not seen, heard from, nor so much as thought of in a year calls.

Kenneth: “Hey Joe, Merry Christmas!”
Joe: “Ah, it’s a bit late.”
Kenneth: “I wanna fuck you upside down! Why the fuck got financial planner call me?!”
Joe: “Oops”
Kenneth: “Pretty or not? If pretty then I meet her.”
Joe: “Eh… Ok lar. Not babe not ugly.”
Kenneth: “What the fuck answer is that?!”

At this point, I manage to scald my tongue on some soup.

Joe: “You will find out when you meet her. I gotta go.”
Kenneth: “Fucking hell. Never see you for one year talk a bit also cannot?”
Joe: “I burnt my tongue lar!”
Kenneth: “What? Lick pussy?? Lick pussy can scald tongue or not?”
Joe: “I think you’ll know better.”
Kenneth: “Basket.”

From here on, the conversation topic somehow turns to girlfriends.

Kenneth: “So you attached now or not?”
Joe: “Yes. The same girlfriend.”
Kenneth: “Sure or not? Heard from Tay, Weiming and Teo that you quite hiong in NUS one.”
Joe: “No lar. I’m very shy one.”
Kenneth: “My ass also very shy.”
Joe: “You shit.”

And then he goes on to recap some of the stuff he’s heard about my supposedly babe-filled university days all of which is pure conjecture. Where these army friends get their news I’ll never know. But anyway, the moral of the story is never give your friends’ contacts to financial planners no matter how much they beg.

Note: I did not utter a single vulgarity because my mom happened to be sitting beside me.