Memories are made of these...

Suckling piglet, anyone?

Just the other day, yours truly happened to gate crash into my cousin's friends' farewell party. The crowd had known each other for, like forever, ever since they were siphoned to a foreign land at an impressionable age to do good with their future. Just out of the confusing age of teenage years, shuffled into the turmoil era of the twenties, they had the scary sight of their whole future laid bare for them to mold. With the grace of the divine powers and help from some friends of the same boat, they sailed the rough seas. Amid the choppy waters and howling winds, they got across in one piece, shaken but not beaten. And boy, did they have heap of tall tales to tell of the journey.
I came to understand that that is what apparently happened every time they meet up. All their university days' stories will be told and re-told and they would have a good laugh at it as if they are hearing it for the first time. And the free flow of booze helped in the process of loosening up the heavy burden and the inhibitions that wear them down.
After the jam session of the same story, the similar minded comrades would go on to their respective lives, do their day-time jobs that they endeavoured so hard for with the belief that the gang would meet up again to laugh at their antics of a time of innocence when the world was the oyster when they were kings.
This is how brotherly bonds stronger than Spiderman's web shooters are made!