The Bible According To Who?

Apologia
I know all my fans out there have been waiting in earnest for some of the blogs moi has been promising. Blogs like the time I was in La-La-Land or those travelogues and that poem on silhouettes at the central catchment reserve.

I will get round to writing them but there are more pressing events to write about. Events like the following:

Matriarchy - Burn Baby Burn!
The idea of a matriarchy has been floating around. A government by women.

We have seen some of them in action both at the governmental and corporate levels. And we also remember how some have vanished into thin air under a cloud of shame or disapproval amid scandals.

Powerful women leaders have even declared war. The Falklands War for instance.

So I say we can give it a try. One term (of five years) is prolly morethan enough. And if they don't prove to be any better than the men, I suggest we rip their skirts, burn their lingerie and bras, stake and grill them over a slow fire.

A HoopLa Over "Ladies Night" But What About More Pressing Concerns Like Sexual Exploitation And Human Trafficking
I sympathise with the ladies over 35 who were refused free cover drinks on the bases of their ages. It is certainly ageist.

But I cannot see how this issue would be a primary concern or if it even merit any attention over other more pressing issues. Issues of women being exploited and made into sex objects in almost every imaginable manner or trafficked like some human cattle for the sex trade.

Shouldn't you be taking up the cudgels here instead?

More Sacrileges
If you thought my blog on those pretty biblical angels sacrilegious, think some more. Look, it can't be as sacrilegious as the sacred institution of marriage is. This is so sacred now, it is almost extinct.

In fact, let me re-write the story thus:

The Tale Of Sodom And Gonorrhea Retold Again
Two pretty angels with black eyeliner running across their eyelids, thick black mascara fluttering and their red-hot pouty lips smacking, wandered into town after a long hard journey.

They were tired and they were effeminate and hey, they were looking for a good hot massage!

One Pretty Angel said to the other: "Oh God Duffy! I am so tired! The weather is hot, my feet are aching and most of all, my body yearns for a good rub-down if not my arse! (Eyes dilating and twinkling)

The Other Angel turned to Duffer and said: "Well yeah! Aren't we all? You think I don't want groupie hippie sex? Question is - can we find it? I am so fucking horny!' (Looks yearningly beyond the desert horizon)

But what do you know, King Herod didn't issue permits for massage parlours. The blue squad team did.

The same people who also hold the licenses for who gets to own explosives. Now why would that be in their jurisdiction is beyond any ordinary citizen's comprehension, but hey, this is the Bible and who knows who wrote it.

As they rolled up their pretty white togas up to their hips and treaded daintily among the riff-raff of a crowd that had gathered to watch them, the spectacle, they ran into a bunch of sodomites.

The sodomites with curly frizzy Afro hair-dos and tight-fitting toga thongs with bulges so huge, you could make out who among them has the thickest, fattest and longest boner. And guess what, they were blacks.

This got the pretty angelic angels into a stir. The boners, not the color. A real hornet's stir.

So stirry and hornety (horny?), they were at once aroused. I mean their red hot asses were. They were butt-cheeks that had been ripped open many, many, many times before from all the fisting other buggerers had been effing to them.

Both Angelic, Pretty And Effeminate Angels to one another : "Gulp! Drool! What boners these dudes have! Check them out! Oolala" (Tongues rolling out)

Being the sodomees that they were, they ASKED FOR IT even without the SODOMITES asking them for permission to ramp themselves into their buttholes. They were just asking for it, BIG TIME!

So what do you expect? They GOT IT!

The deserving pretty fucking whores!

So please, did you write the Bible? How do you know that those pretty angelic and effeminate angels didn't ask for a fucking good time?

Duh!

SinGAYpore, I Do Knight Thee The 143rd Nation Of The World
In my last blog, I should have written: "....make landfall, plant a flag......." This would have correctly conveyed the fact that I actually landed ashore to plant my very own SinGAYpore flag.

At least I have the courage to tell you where my mistakes are and rectify them. I am not some scummy politicans, remember?

Capitalist Mishappens
You won't believe some of the tales I am about to relate to you.

I have bought Num tees and I have bought Num tees. They all belong to the "L" category. All because of inconsistent production capabilities, a single mishappened "L" may just be too tight a fit for my body even if all other "L"s of the same cut are good fits.

It is like the denims I have got. One has a belt loop sewed flat on and I have to unthread it. Another has its back pocket threaded at its base so it is shallower than it actually is. That explains why my wallet falls out ever so often. Again it needs unthreading.

We have all had similar experiences with those chilli or ketchup perforated squeeze packs at fast-food joints, don't we? Packs without perforations or packs that simply can't tear at the perforation lines or if they could, they won't open.

The same with perforated packet drinks.

That tells you something, doesn't it?

The capitalist machinery can be seriously flawed at times.

More Connection Vagaries - I Am Like So Frustrated
Vegetable Farm hasn't been consistent with the Network connection. Sometimes I can. Sometimes I can't.

It is pretty much the same scene at this cafe I visited. It was a start-stop-start-stop kinda thingy. So I get dragged along for a very long time. Too long a time if you ask me.

More blogging vagaries for more connection vagaries.

An Artist's DreamWorks
Serangoon Gardens Village has become a sorta little retreat for me.

I enjoy walking the distance from home to there, in the glorious bask of the sun, stopping by the small park with its huge greenery and shrubbery which makes for a perfect landscape art piece.

Then there are the colorful and beautiful blooms in the frontyards of some of the houses lining the street.

There is food aplenty here though none is spectacular but I get to sit at the cafe to read my papers in peace. It would have been marvellously enthralling if I could blog or surf here, Internet surfing, that is, penning my thoughts and feelings.

It is the same with visiting those stadia and just feel the wind and sun on your back when you run free and wild. And it is quietly tranquil for thought and just pure admiration of the silence of the world, not the cacophany of idle human chatter.

Pure bliss.

More Connections
Not only do I think Jeffrey, my ex-classmate and now my investment property agent, is connected to that woman head of department of ABC all-GALL school, I also think that God-fearing, Bible-quoting, self-proclaimed, sanctimonious The False Redeemer, is also married to this other woman head of humanities department at XXY all-gall school.

In fact, Auntie Chan Moi and Hiro may also be related in some ways. Just like Galen is now occupying this flat who isn't in his name. It belongs to some unmarried Gall. Not sure what the connection is. Some of the neighbors here could be connected to him in some ways too.

Hey, I am not that dumb but then again I am not that smart either. *Smiles.