I Was At The Reservoir Today, Staring Into The Waters (Eye Therapy)

Army Hunk - A Choice Partner For Life?
My eyes have been following his every move ever since his hot bod got in the way of my radar vision . His aura of self-confidence as he goes about his daily workout rountine and that gait are just infectious. I found myself striding his peacock strut like some hung beefcake just to mirror the admiration I have for him.

Something tells me he is not someone out of the ordinary. True to light, he was a regular from the army. In fact I have been remarking to an acquaintance (that in itself would be another blog but I dont have the space for that now) how this dude was too supermanly , charismatic, unpretentious and unassuming to be a mortal earthling. He must be Adonis, the son-God sent down by Zeus to save lonely souls like moi.

On Day 1, his weight plates dropped off the bar and landed near moi. I was too stunned to react except to utter a meek "Are you ok?". But my testerone and pheromones got the better of me and by Day 4, I managed to wring his email address off him and was actually chatting with him like an old friend. Day 5 had him acknowledging me mail and he had a couple of mails (WHOA! Where does that leave moi? The last queuer in a lucky draw contest?)

I was smiling like some star-worshipping, star-crazed cute gal when I greeted him. It was so awkward and sissy, I wanted to slap myself for being such a gal. I swear I could have been that gal who cried when Paul Twohill finished his Idol song.

I hope I didn't come across as too star-glazed or too strong or too mild. I was just trying to roll the words out, I guess. It was already a miracle I didn't stutter or had my tongue tied in Superman's red underwear or that black-out in me head, empty and blank.

I am keeping me fingers crossed here. Wish me luck, people. This could be THE BEAU moi has been searching high and low for his entire short life (just so not to make me sound any older). You may perhaps start to hear wedding bells tolling as soon as our legislators are enlightened enough to take the cue from some First World countries. That is provided if MR ARMY HUNK isn't already attached, married or straight-ace like the rest of humankind (or so we think).

Singapore, Are You Ready For Me Cross-Dressing
I have been observing gals real hard the last few weeks. Their mannerisms, their dressing, etc etc. Gals, I am so sorry. If you think I were admiring your boobs or your looks, be ready to be fleeced of your dresses. Truth is , I was staring at how this gal could have her eyebrows redrawn so surrealistically or how that gal could be so scantily clad, she doesn't feel the shudders aboard the North Polean train.

And in the process I found out that the only way to shame a gal for her indecent exposure was to stare her to death at the anatomy she had so shamefully willed to be "open season". Most gals would look down at their feet, avert your stares and shy away. This is revenge sought, no?

Perhaps the feminists can take up the cudgel and expatiate why gals are being shamelessly displayed as meat in all kinds of advertisement ranging from cars to a suckling pigs' ad for a newly-opened food centre.

And if you think I am cross-dressing anytime soon or going for a sex-change operation, banish that thought altogether. It will NEVER happen and I am supremely confident of my sexuality. You might as well ask He-Ape to dress up in his wife's lingerie for a Crazy Horse performance. He just might, you never know.

The Continuing Saga Of Mr He-Ape
Not that I am calling Mr He-Ape a coporate scoundrel or more likely, an "educator" in wolfskin hidden behind a sheep's wool. To think he could elude our public civil service hawk-eyes (maybe a slow loris' eyes) and cram as many tables and chairs into a class as there are bananas in a comb just in the name of profit.

An "educator" who if he doesn't like a particular student or staff have M/s She-Ape acting as his henchwoman or Mr Ex-Police Officer his henchman in "disciplining" that child or staff member. A Mafia organisation with him playing the role of THE BIG BOSS. Someone who apparently goes around sabotaging other competing educational businesses within his precinct.

A hypocritical, all smily but evil reincarnation of SATAN himself.

The Toilet BlowUp
And thanks to this new gym moi is working out at, moi had that fleeting chance of chancing upon MR ARMY HUNK and his cohorts. This gym even offers a 1-club or a All-club membership. But the trial is only for one club and how is one expected to know how the other clubs are like before deciding on which of the dual types he would pick?

In my previous blog, I wrote the "Mechanics Of Urination". Seems like MR AH PEK at this new gym has another take on this. Someone has peed a sizeable puddle onto the floor, it seems. I guess this has to be an aberration as no dudes would pee like that without any of it hitting the urinal. And it was only this ONE foreign charwoman who stared moi to death whenever moi washes his hands in the sink. She was expecting moi not to wet the floor, a task which might as well be like praying for Ronald Regan to be resurrected again.

Why Am I Paying So Much
Sometimes I wonder why I am paying through the roof for just that room I bunk in only at night most of the time. I hardly do anything here except for the occassional TV and staying in over the weekends. It is a room where I lay down my belongings. A place to shower and lay my head on a pillow. That is all. Not really "home" if you know what I mean. Might as well be a "hotel".

Singapore Idol
I think it is so unfair when a Singapore finalist sings his American Idol's hit and we compare this to its counterpart. There wouldn't be any basis for any such comparison primarily because that American Idol is at the top of the league in the professional singing pyramid. Thus it is a real pleasure to see Nurul doing it her own way when doing an American hit. I must say the consistent performers throughout the series have always been the three Ken Lim had cited.

Singapore Trivia And Radio Chatter
So you think you have lived your whole life in Singapore and you know the country inside out. Wrong. Tell me, how many carriages are the MRT trains? What are some of the inscribed tags laid on the tracks at the Yio Chu Kang stadium? Where will our national athletes train for their gym workouts before National Day 2006 and after ? Bet you you are probably on tenterhooks just trying to figure out the answers. Well these were just some of the little trivia moi found out while trekking the Singapore globe.

By the way, moi must warn you that when you cross the road at any junction or wherever, just make sure you steer clear of the edges of any kerb. I have had a monstrous trailer just rolling its big wheels onto the kerb and that would have meant my feet would have been flattened out by now if I had not stayed behind a safe distance. And most vehicles don't stop before the white lines anyway, have you noticed how dangerous that is?

Yesterday I rode the LRT and as it opens on both its sides, some commuters would be standing near the doors anyway. As the train doors behind me started creaking, I couldn't help fearing that they would fling open anytime just right behind me. To test it out, I grabbed its handles and the doors creaked again. WHOA! I hope nobody has the mishappence to be doing a flying trapeze act! I wouldn't wanna be the star stuntman of the Cirque du Soleil.

I don't mean to hurt anyone if I said I agreed with a writer when she mentioned "inane radio chatter". It is just that moi is only on a FM tuner and it doesnt work very well in underground tunnels (so I am hoping for some MP3 files transfer, anyone?). As you can imagine, I only wanna hear music and not chatter. If the DJs were just fooling around, it is fine and I have on numerous occassions laughed along with them. But when they dish out advice on a range of topics like relationships, I didn't exactly think it was good advice. Unless again of course they were just jiving. Kidding yeah..... Muahahahaha.....Burp

Allan My Dear Bosom Buddy
Well ok, I may be exaggerating just a little bit. We werent exactly from the same bosom and we didn't like keep in touch till we ran into each other that fateful day. I met him a second time at the Internet kiosk and we could chat on many things. But that spark of fire just isnt there anymore. I guess we will just be good friends and that is all.

My Gay Brethen Are Well-Fed, Well-Clothed And Well-Looked After
Having met Allan, I realised I wasn't alone in what I thought was my , and my alone, unique situation. We prolly have many among us. Like in Indonesia where underemployment is about half the working populace.

The big difference is: they still have their parents alive and kicking, sheltering them, feeding them, cleaning up after them and so on (or the maids). Moi has no such luxury. I don't even own my place now. I am on my own. I have to make me own money, survive and live. That explains why not too many gays are coupled. They dont see the need to, are too comfortable where they are or can ill afford to, in some cases.

Like Daniel. He isn't working anymore and I havent been seeing him over the weekends and over the last couple of weekdays. He comes and goes in casual shorts and sandals. He is either (a) living with his parents or (b) relatives or siblings or (c) with his friends or beau in a nearby location. No wonder my gay brethen are so amazed and callous to moi's urging of setting up home together. They are appalled even. They are fed, clothed and so on and thus do not see the need.

But let us just see how they will be like when all the support systems are taken away and they are old and on their own. It could happen sooner if the recent tsunamis or Lebanon-Israeli conflict are any indication.