So I Lied, Big Deal?
Well, well, well. I know I said that the last blog was positively my last. But hey, I guessed I lied. I wanted to stop only because writing those blogs gnawed at my insides so much, I just needed a breather. A breath of air freshener.
It astounds me no end how Singaporeans could subject themselves to so much indignation and so much outrage and in doing so, subjugate the minority 34% of the oppositional electorate to the same outrage and indignation imposed by the majority 66% propositional electorate.
I can only conclude that Singaporeans are a masochistic lot who loves being brutually tortured and tormented by a stupid, nonsensical, fuck-arse ruling "elite".
But perhaps by the time the next GE swings around and I have finished with my on the ground lobbying and campaigning against this ruling "elite", it won't be so propositional anymore?
If Not For Singapore Calendar Guys 2008
I wasn't feeling too good the last few weeks as you might have guessed.
In fact ever since I moved into Rhemi's, I was suffering from a bout of depression. Usually over the weekend when I stay in to mope.
First I ain'ty exactly living comfortably and whileI can live with some dirt, grime and dust, I can't live with more than an iota.
I have to squeeze past the narrow space between my queen bed and the television table top whenever I need to get from one end to the other and while I am sure my butts are getting a real good workout this way, not unlike the TV commercial touting the hot sauna belt that works miracles on your abds and rumps, it doesn't exactly speak a lot for spacy living quarters.
Yes it is great there is now a TV in the bedroom, but it is a green color TV.
I have ensured that all the parts of the house I touch and do my stuff in are cleaned out but I can't possibly do the same for the entire place. AND I SIMPLY WON'T.
The only consolation must surely lie in the pull-down, glossy colored Singapore Calendar Guys 2008, hanging by my windows.
The twelve pages of hot sizzling hunks, well maybe not all twelve, in various half-nude poses that tintillate every gay dude's testosterone-salivating gonadic glands
If Not For The Kayaking Hunks Near The Lower Seletar Reservoir
Tanned, hot, young hunks from our very own Republic Polytechnic, so I was told.
Some had only their kayaking float vests hugging their tops and their rippling physiques and abdomens shine through. Don't forget their powerful musculature when they row or when they run, for that matter. The galls just don't measure up.
To prove how much of a bluff people can be, the caretaker for the kayak sheds actually told moi that all kayakers finish up by 6pm which is their closing time but gosh, I actually spotted a couple coming in after that
If Not For All Those Gorgeous Hunks On TV
Yeah all those eye-popping hunks featured on the Chinese Program "Hey Gorgeous". It was held at the Republic Polytechnic and that Indonesian Chinese hunk really beat them all.
Tonight there is gonna be more and moi will be home in bed to drool over them on TV at 8pm
Drool drool.
Does Moi Wanna Live Here?
If Rhemi is to be believed, and I am only half believing him, Chong Pang was once a drug-addict and secret society branch members hangout.
That explains all those unsavoury characters bumming around. Apparently there were raids every now and then and even his next-door neighbor didn't seem to be spared. By the way, this next-door neighbor got hooked on drugs and his wife died of cancer which explains the borrowing from loan sharks and he vacating the flat in the end.
I have rung up the neighborhood police centre (mind you, the police posts don't work round the clock and close after 10pm or so) more than once to egg them on to check on the foreign and local Indian dudes always milling around the pavillons outside the shophouses, drinking beer.
And yes those kids, both girls and boys, screaming and laughing the night away in the central courtyard.
Well if it is daytime, I can't say a thing and of course the echoes around the linkways and shelters reverberate all round when they shout or talk loudly, not to mention the soccer match they play.
Can you blame them if there are no soccer fields nearby for stretching out their legs?
Can Moi Afford To Live Here Or Anywhere Else For That Matter
Given the sky-high prices of a couple of hundred thousand just for 60 or 70 odd sqm of living space. Not much space. And don't forget redoing the whole place up means more money. Like those antique fixtures, electrical rewiring and retiling and so on.
What choice for moi except to wait out another year or more and to reinvest my profits.
Only Half Believing Rhemi's Past - The Makings Of A B/Hollywood Block Buster
Rhemi has rumbled on about his past and I am only listening with half-believing ears.
Our local port worker who gambled, wined, dined and womanised even while he was married. No mean-earning port worker but a port worker who earns thousands in a month alone.
An abundance of drugs and guns onboard ship. A lounge and pub patroniser . A materialistic stay-home wife who has a penchant for expensive jewllery. A repeat traffic offender who drove while under suspension. A patrol security officer and range warden for our army. Now turned storehand.
A younger brother who died in a motor-cycle accident while he has gotten into several near death collisions himself.
A drug addict who ruined his marriage, finally ending up in the sad state he is in now. A divorcee with two young kids.
You name it, Rhemi has it in his past life. All the makings of a Hollywood grade-A block-buster.
Can some Hollywood or Bollywood director get hold of Rhemi and have him sell his life story for a fee?
Gays Are Not Harrassed? Another One Of Your "One Bite Of The Cherry" Thingy?
I can't really be sure that this is a truism. At least not for the period between the late 80s to the early and mid 90s.
I have blogged about the police raids on gay haunts like Fort Road and the Bedok stadium. Now another incident just came to mind.
There was actually a road block somewhere near the Fort Road round-about. No prizes for guessing why it is so near the popular gay stomping ground.
I was stopped and the Sikh officer checked my road tax to make sure it was up to date and then proceeded to call HQ on his mobile to see if I was on any of their criminal records. At least this is what I am assuming.
I can't remember when breathalyzers became the vogue but certainly this wasn't a road block for one and he didn't breath-analyze moi and even if he did, I know I wasn't drinking. And there were no clubs and pubs within a several kilometres radii for sure.
After wasting fifteen minutes (imagine the streaker he could have nabbed or the burglar breaking into a shop he could have arrested) of both our time, I was finally let off.
Talk about harrassment and more stupidity!
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