Do you mean an Irish brother, or an Irish Brother

The title is actually relevant this time. St Patricks day is upon us, and I am in a last minute rush to find the leprechaun costume that Turk danced in (season 4 episode 14 My lucky charm).

Currently surrounded by a mass of nerdish looking university students whom I expect are all thinking about Kathy Brunnen. Myself on the other hand, being the conscientious little Asian, am catching up on my Maths Lecture notes. This is a result of catching up on my pitiful 3 hour snooze last night during my 8am lecture this morning. My fellow comrades Imala and Tom say they witnessed me moaning in my boredom-induced slumber, and one can only conclude that I too, were thinking of Kathy Brunnen.

The weekend did not deliver the bundle of expectations that I had ordered, but it proved to be sufficient release, as I have not quit my studies and taken up ninjitsu.

Saturday:
Whoever said "You can't have your cake and eat it too", obviously didn't have a car. When faced with the dilema of RSVP-ing to two 18th's on the same night at the same time, I was put in the deep end, and had to sink or swim. Well, brudda swam...bitch.

Pri's 18th was at a Thai restaurant, and a mass of 30 strong had congregated to celebrate her coming-of-age. To most, becoming 18 opens up a whole array of opportunities socially, sexually and legally. Having asian parents however, only thing different for Pri is that now she can vote.

After filling up on free food and handing out tissues to the women who shed tears at my departure, I picked up Renkert en route to Maddi's 18th. My automobile journey up to that point consisted of:
Red Hill -> St Lucia -> Red Hill -> Mt Ommaney.

A feat only possible for one who radiates as much excellence as myself.

At Maddi's I was greeted by a swarm of females, all who had been eagerly waiting my arrival for the duration of the night. At that point, was when I spotted the cupcake table. A cupcake is in theory just a portable hand held prototype of the cake. Thus, when I devoured the bitch in 2 bear-sized bites, I completed my task.
I had my cake, and ate it too.

The journey home to Max's proved an interesting one. I have no shame in admitting that I drive a Toyota Echo, which is pretty much an aborted fetus of a real car. I have no need to compromise.
The point is though, the car seats 5 at best, and even that's a tight squeeze. On Saturday night, the Echo made like Laura Murray and fit in 7 people. This was achieved by Catherine lying across the boys, Imala trying hard not to penetrate her, and yes, KATHY BRUNNEN in my boot. If a car could jizz, it probably did.
Max's house provided the usual entertainment we've all come to expect, topping off a rather pleasant night.

Sunday:
This marked the maiden game for the all-star social soccer team, 'The Eye Whisperers'. We were quietly confident that we were going to make the opposition's vagina's bleed, but our complacency got the better of us, losing to the bloody vagina's; 4-0.
I attribute our loss to Vonji because he's black.

Only 3 hours to go untill my lecture. G-fucking G.