Last night we averted from the usual pulsating music to the kind that sends shivers down your spine. Kuya Mark was at our house while we were binging when he told us that his brother, Kuya Wally needed "rescue". Before we knew it, we were all on the Rav 4 with your everyday clothes. The twist to the story was that Kuya Wally needed another kind of "rescue". He was @ Kelly's Clark, which is a slightly upscale resto with a videoke for d.o.m.s. Our attire was perfect. Everyone there were at their fashion best. Luckily we were too numb from the red horse to care. From the sappy renditions of Just Once to drunken versions of Pare ko, we were hooked. Within an hour we finished 5 rounds of drinks and mozzarella sticks. What a freaky night.
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