Adulatory Phallus Impudicus (Or Simply Put : The LJ)

I have been getting pretty dirty looks recently and a mysterious call even from a law firm. I suspect these have everything to do with moi's blog on how the phallus is such an object of fascination and worhsip, it is almost a godsend.

To back up my facts, the history of paganism and mythology has attested to the pivotal role the phallus had played in erotica. Kama is a Hindu God of Eroticism and so was Amon, the Egyptian God of Fertility and Love, a god which stood out with its two curved horns leading to the word "horny" or as in the biological "phallus impudicus" which is really the scientific term for stinkhorns.

In fact phallus adulation has even featured in some homes moi has visited. I mean I know this guy has an ignormous wooden phallus nestled in a tray of hay (resemble something, yeah?), ornamenting his coffee table. By its sides, there were jasmine and lavender, accentuating the scent of sensuality even further.

So there is basically nothing wrong with moi being so taken up with dicks, so goes my line of reasoning. If you have problems with that, you have problems with anything, including how your hair looks. And if you can't live with your hair, you probably can't live with anyone to begin with anyway, right?

I know I was supposed to blog on "The Dark Ages Of Me Life" but I guess I have to defer that. I mean there are more important stuff moi should be writing about like if taxi fares should go up or should moi contemplate cross-dressing with mascara, eye-liner and nail polish all in tow.

But this poor old man under the flyover near the Redhill MRT station desperately needs me help. He is making his home there, washing and god knows what else. I can't leave an old man like this to his dire fate. Because what if one day, moi is in a similar predicament? Will Dwayne and Co do the same for moi? (*Looks at Dwayne and Co and thinks:"Yeap, they probably won't, these little brats." Muahahahaha. BURP)

Anyway, you have had a foretaste of the darker moments in my life in my earlier blog of "Dark Thoughts", didn't you? I mean it was late at night so I had to be having "dark" thoughts and not exactly bright thoughts now right? *Stares quizzically at moi's readers. "Do you get it?" Muahahahahaha. BURP again.

On all of moi's trips so far, I have been seeing so many little galls running about the place, I was beginning to think that MEN (or rather boys) do not exist anymore and that the womenfolk have taken over the world and we are now in Scary Movie 4's spoof of "War Of the Worlds".

It was only today that I saw some little boys. The boys I saw previously were, in no particular alphabetical order - a Down syndrome sufferer, an intellectually disabled and someone who couldn't hold his pants up while walking (ok ok ok, this last one was made up. Muahahahaha).

It was HORRIFYING to say the least and moi has read an article of how it seems to be now a disproportionately female-to-male birth ratio, how men's issues were not being addressed and how men seem to die earlier, have more infertility issues and thus "conceiving", have more proclivity towards developmental disorder and so on.

If all these happen simulatneously, it can only mean ONE THING : moi's phallic obsession won't be sustained (I mean keeping you-know-what erected, muahahahaha ) for long or even exist just a couple of months down the road. This is ABSURD! UNWARRANTED! EVIL! And driving moi hopping mad.

Right, moi is sexist. I shouldn't have used MR CINEMAN (oops, this spelling is cunning, isn't it? )OPERATOR. How do we all know for a fact that the persona running the cinema was a MAN? It could have been a Miss/a Mrs/a Dr, even a Tun or Tan Sri, maybe even a Sir or Baroness, right? But wait, X-Men had women among its team members so perhaps it should have been titled X-(Wo)Men.

You know what. I think the English language is such a beautiful language but it has its limitations. I wrote once how I "crossed my legs" while kayaking but this did not properly convey what I had done. I was actually drawing my legs in and tucking my feet under my buttocks, with the leg foot under my right butt and vice-versa. So perhaps a phrase to describe this would be in order: I sat "cross-bowed"? Muahahahaha. BURP (hey, if I burp a bit too much, it just means that all that digestive enzymes in me stomach just got refluxed ok? Who wouldn't after sampling all that rich and variegated food we have here?)

And it only goes to show how accented Beckham must have been in his speech in his native tongue when he announced his resignation from the captaincy of the English soccer squad, moi actually thought he was leaving England for Spain or for the dearly-departed world even. Mua hahahaha.

And you wanna impose on our local students' sense of hearing like that? What if they had been told, orally, to write a composition on "How I Won My Victory" but they wrote "How I Got My Syphillis" instead. Do you want the Cambridge stiffnecks to mark them down, ruin their future educational career and they be had all their lives doing time in the hassegows? That would be so CRUEL of you!!!!

At the end of the day, there are just a few things you must know about moi. I never return to any bad relationships I have had or even people who consistently ignore my petition for frienships. And I don't work for any company whom I have had the displeasure of ever working for.

Moi is also a very intense sort of person. Remember my "Immutables" and you get what I mean. I pour my heart, soul and about everything else in almost all that I do. My passion for work that I enjoy, a sport, a hobby, a relationship, the love of my life, food ( I won't patronise that "Roti Prata" stall anymore because I jokingly asked for a discount but got an earful instead from MR STINGY SARONG), just about everything, including "Phallus Impudicus". Muahahahaha. Hey this is the third time moi burps ok.

It is not easy trying to initiate relationships or friendships anywhere. Everyone lives in his own world. They have their cliques. They may not even want to break away from their old inner-circles to start a new one. They don't even care to.

Even when they come to gym, they come in twos, threes and fours and it is difficult to "penetrate" this tightly-woven circle. Not much different with the stragglers too, like myself. All the pretenders, gays most likely, in this buffy-gym workouts. They don't, also because they have a "typology" they will go for. Or they have some hang-ups, some insecurities, they are focussed on their workouts, etc.

As I said there are many beautiful body types and not just the beefcakes, though personally I am a little adverse to chubs, bears and older folks (even though I am a senior citizen myself. Muahahahaha). But really I think nerds and geeks (with all their pretentious spectacles) have a place in moi's heart too. Especially the really intellectually-looking ones. Guess where they are to be found? **Burp No 4.

Someone wrote how she listens in on "inane radio chatter" (how I must agree with her here) and how she dodges flyers distributors. This I don't. That poor chap is earning his commission and you can help by taking a pamphlet off his hands, literally (he usuallytries to stuff a couple down your way anyway) However, if I am heading towards the MRT, I won't as there are no bins where I can then chuck it away.

This is taking a toll on moi. Yesterday, I walked into a bookstore and "SUPERMAN" was beckoning to me yet again. This time, I had a really good "feel" and look at him. You know what, his wrists can swirl around 360 degrees too. And that lock of hair just curls nicely in place around his forehead. "SUPERMAN", I wish I could take you home. But I can't. You are just a tad too expensive and too big, since moi may be moving house again and I have to lug you along, together with my other suitcases.

People, and that include myself, just have to learn to steal their beaus' hearts away. This is what bestow longevity in any relationship. Imagine sitting down to a meal and all you have is just chatter on economics. It is INSANE. I might as well have you as a business partner then if I had wanted that. Or I could speak with the government of the day. *Wink.

I wanna chat about movies, life, current affairs, world events, school, work, love and so on. If I can't, I am just flying off to Planet Krypton where SUPERMAN and I can at least have a decent conversation without the cacophony in the background.

I sat down and had a meal with a JC dude. We started talking about JC life and how it had changed with this particular premier JC where moi studied briefly. We got onto the topic of learning Higher Chinese at secondary level and how JC students could opt not to study this at JC level.

It isn't fair that these Higher Chinese dudees can then have bonus points to gain entry to a JC (which most likely favour a foreign scholar well-versed in the language) while someone who is strong in the English language does not seem to have that advantage. Gosh, I mean I am not even in the system anymore and why should I really care as this JC dudee pointedly pointed out. Guess they are gonna shove that "Live Is Never Fair" thingtummy again.

Well if life is never fair, then make it fair. We have the duty and obligation to do this for ourselves and for others. You may, one day, be faced with the same predicament as the other unfairee sufferers have.

Again, I cannot see why we are all being pigeonholed into what others think we should be doing, or living. I mean if I say I can have galls for friends, that is about all there is to it. I LIKE GUYS (get it?). I wanna have sex with them, bag one, live with one and die with one.

I don't wanna do "special education" but gifted education (all the rich tais tais or She-Ape and HE-Ape family members can do this). I am afraid of at-risk youths because I may be at risk being with them. I may catch their smoking habits or worse, all their vices. I am susceptible and vulnerable. When you wince, I wince. When you cough, I cough too. I don't wanna work for commercial outfits, be a politician but to teach, at a higher academic level or in a all same-gender school. This is how my life is to be.

Have you got it yet?