Calling Out To Fella Pisceans - Do You Read, Over?

I was reeling yesterday afternoon from the hot sweaty workout at the gym, what with the beefcakes and my own mental workout (I wanted to lunge at this dude's hot lips for one). To add further fuel to a wildfire that was alreading flaming out of control somewhere between my legs, I had to bump into Allan, my ex-NS matie, in, of all places, the North Pole.

But if this were the North Pole, why ain't we seeing the polar bears or Santa Claus riding down his sleigh, ho-ho-hoing his mirthy laughter? Worse , the ICE BITCH of NarHia didn't serve up hot food either.

Allan, as you will recall, was my bosom buddy whom I came out to. After I o.r.d (it was r.o.d back then ) I never saw him again though I thought I did spot him at a mall many years later. Our exact parting words if I recall correctly were: "He is curious (meaning a cock-teaser like some of the dudes I met. You mean being gay is a curios?), doesn't wanna be pulled into any "gay vice" and he will marry someone really special. What am I suppose to read into this? He is straight of course.

This Allan was togged a way bit funny from the Allan I knew. He didn't marry. Was in Bangkok, etc etc. He did provide me with some glimpses of what has happened to him and what is happening in his life and some others whom I thought had up and left the country. I couldn't digest very well the emotions that welled up in me, first, after that hot salsa in the gym, then the cold blasts and now this.

I wasn't sure if he was telling me a tall tale, or a sob-story or it was just a kryptonite chip of bad karma or I was hypnopompic again. Anyway, my sex drive dipped (I was supposed to meet someone) and I went home, bleary-eyed and watched Singapore Idol which was almost halfway done.

I reckoned he would email or text me. But when I checked my mail this morning, he sent me a little something on astronauts blasting away into space, courtesy of CNN. Now what does that mean? You are weirder and I thought I was weird. We do share the same astrological stars and only two years apart in age.

Getting to blog this morning was a mircale journey in itself. The train stopped in its tracks for a very long while due to a technical glitch, like the technical glitch that reduced Nurul and Mathilda to tears and to their knees.

If someone had laid himself on the tracks to be run over or SUPERMAN, the MAN OF STEEL, was saving humanity from certain destruction, I would have understood. But a technical glitch?

Now that I have access to BROADBAND, loyal fans can expect pretty regular blogs. If I sleep next to one, it would be even more instantaneous. The moment a thought strikes me, I would get up to pen. That way, fans get a load of me bullshit.