I didn't know that. "SUPERMAN" could twirl around on his torso too? Don't blame moi. When moi picked up the figurine, poor "SUPERMAN" was strapped to the box by his limbs. Looked like he was having bondage fun or something. Thank you MR MALE COHOST of the morning talkshow. Now we all know what else "SUPERMAN" is capable of. In fact MR MALE CO-HOST even demonstrated the various karma sutraic positions "SUPERMAN" could be laid. On the lap, on a shoulder and behind someone's back. Muahahahahaha. BURP.
Singapore Idol's WILDCARD screening saw a vast improvement in all the contestants' performance, vocally and imagily. I couldn't really pick who should go on to the GRAND FINALS. Because some of the idol wannabes who performed poorly the last round did amazingly well this time. All said, the deserving contestants were indeed selected for the finals. SINGAPORE, you showed yourself to be not relying solely on looks but also on vocals when you voted.
But since this is a American Idol spinoff and under its wings, we can't be expecting any different I suppose. This is sad. It should have been a real talent quest with our local singers singing compositions composed to suit their voices. And the fact that this is a "competition" doesn't help. And I am sure we don't want another Mariah Carey clone right? In fact, I wonder if all those popular singers in the States underwent a competition like this before they were talent spotted.
On television now, there is actually something called "The Barbie Diaries". This show is really funny with animated, talking, walking barbies doing the AMERICAN doo-dah. Instead of "precisely" or "exactly", they have "totally". FAR OUT, galls!!!! And of course, "Oprah" rocks. Her series have had themes on plastic surgery, bras, jeans, image and house makeovers and one episode where Brooke Shields came on and chatted about her post-natal depression. Uproarious as BROOKE SHIELDS emotes like nobody else could.
You shouldn't miss this movie "JUST MY LUCK". I laughed the moment this hoity toity lost her luck upon having her fortune read by a gypsy. She broke her heel, had water splayed on her and a whole host of misfortunes raining down on her. To think just a while ago, she was living the high life with everything going her way. You deserve it, GALL!
More amazing discoveries. More nature parks, water and a trail right behind one. This one offers such a spectacular view of the water and skyline and totally so deserted, I can only hope to take my bf along on this trip to savour its splendour. Who wanna see it with me? We could hold hands, FRENCH kiss and have *** all at one go! ***Double winks.
But as I have mentioned before, perhaps for the umpteenth time. Having to take a bus or train just to have a walk in the woods or stretch for exercise is so demeaning. Plus, you lug all that stuff with you for a change-over : gym, run, walk and shop gear-up. You know what I mean.
And if I have to take transport at a neighboring estate, then shouldn't I be living there instead? And it is strange that nobody at me place here takes the bus. All of them take the train. That is because with just seven bus services plying the precinct, they don't go all places, especially places where people work or wanna play.
Moi is moving again. You must have read all my reasons for this in all my other blogs. And Daniel was a let-down in a way. I shan't blog about it here but well, there are only two of us and if he had made it more like a flat-sharing doo-dah and less dollars and cents, I think I might have stayed on despite everything. Oh well.
I found a perfect place. It is a central location where I could access a couple of gyms within walking distance and the whole route is dotted with amenities like a library, swimming pools, buses, stadia, trains and a town park. It is astounding that it straddles two estates. WOW! Two towns for the price of ONE! INCREDIBLE!
Well rest assured all the hunks are still very much alive everywhere moi goes. The only hope I have is to bag one. *Drools and winks.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Saturday, June 24, 2006
What Of This LIfe? Dark Thoughts
A thought struck me again. If this trend of "thoughts" striking me ever so often continues, I might as well be Benjamin Franklin's kite or a lightning rod. The splendid idea of cascading tower blocks in a public housing project could , in fact, be extended to a zig-zag continuum of apartment flats in an estate. It will truly be thinking out of the box, as most of our current designs are "boxed up" concepts.
David Rasif was my senior in the short time I spent at a premiere junior college. How his age was stated as it is, is beyond me, unless his time spent in education had somehow been protracted. Whatever it is, my fervent wish is to bump into him when I next visit Thailand on a discounted airfare voucher. Perhaps his good fortune will rub off on me and bless me with eternal wealth to last a lifetime.
Due to a technical glitch, a contestant had been wrongly pronounced to be a Singapore Idol finalist. It is incredulous that Matilda D'Silva is now out of the running, though she still has that Wildcard chance. This must be the gravest injustice, I thought.
People are just people, whoever they are. It does not matter if they are gay or straight, white or black, young or old, educated or undeducated, rich or poor, man or woman. Therefore I shouldn't be expecting anything more from my fellow gay brethen, though I wished we could be a bit closer if sexuality-affiliation is to be the entry to an exclusive club.
Therefore one would advise me about sunning a buggy bed when fumigation should rightly have been the answer. Or to wear fluffy, designer bedroom sandals which are dangerously slippery in the bathroom when Crocs TM sandals would be a safer bet. By the way, the latter was propositioned by no other than Mr Psycho himself.
Last night, I strolled the park after my jog. The BBQ pits were filled with the delicious aroma of skewered meat being grilled. One party even did theirs at a pavillon. The nearby al-fresco diner by the water's edge was full-house.
This set me thinking about how Singaporeans, especially younger Singaporeans, are living it up here. The cars they drive, the club memberships they own, the houses they live in, the exotic travels they make and the fine-dining they indulge in. They wouldn't think twice over dinner at some fancy restaurant while the likes of moi meal at humble food centres.
They are of the generation of abundance while moi is from a deprived and austere one. Fear began to grip me as thoughts of my future loom. I don't know where I am headed (though I know what I want but I can't seem to get it) and what to make of my present life now. I am as good as a nomad. I am no better than the stray cats or rats that roam the park.
I am like sucked into a black-hole without knowing what to do. It is times like this when I wished I had a better grasp over life's uncertainties. But I don't. The fleeting thought came and went. Just as well as I have no intention of harbouring any further thoughts of my future destiny especially since I can't control it.
I know I will never be happy with a woman but I can't seem to get Mr Right either. Am I destined to be all alone throughout my life, more so as the environment and system do not at all support the lifestyle I hanker after.
As I do not hold the key to the answers to life's destiny, I promptly thought of jogging back home quickly to settle down to some hot English tea and biscuits, just so to obliterate my gloomy thoughts for the night.
David Rasif was my senior in the short time I spent at a premiere junior college. How his age was stated as it is, is beyond me, unless his time spent in education had somehow been protracted. Whatever it is, my fervent wish is to bump into him when I next visit Thailand on a discounted airfare voucher. Perhaps his good fortune will rub off on me and bless me with eternal wealth to last a lifetime.
Due to a technical glitch, a contestant had been wrongly pronounced to be a Singapore Idol finalist. It is incredulous that Matilda D'Silva is now out of the running, though she still has that Wildcard chance. This must be the gravest injustice, I thought.
People are just people, whoever they are. It does not matter if they are gay or straight, white or black, young or old, educated or undeducated, rich or poor, man or woman. Therefore I shouldn't be expecting anything more from my fellow gay brethen, though I wished we could be a bit closer if sexuality-affiliation is to be the entry to an exclusive club.
Therefore one would advise me about sunning a buggy bed when fumigation should rightly have been the answer. Or to wear fluffy, designer bedroom sandals which are dangerously slippery in the bathroom when Crocs TM sandals would be a safer bet. By the way, the latter was propositioned by no other than Mr Psycho himself.
Last night, I strolled the park after my jog. The BBQ pits were filled with the delicious aroma of skewered meat being grilled. One party even did theirs at a pavillon. The nearby al-fresco diner by the water's edge was full-house.
This set me thinking about how Singaporeans, especially younger Singaporeans, are living it up here. The cars they drive, the club memberships they own, the houses they live in, the exotic travels they make and the fine-dining they indulge in. They wouldn't think twice over dinner at some fancy restaurant while the likes of moi meal at humble food centres.
They are of the generation of abundance while moi is from a deprived and austere one. Fear began to grip me as thoughts of my future loom. I don't know where I am headed (though I know what I want but I can't seem to get it) and what to make of my present life now. I am as good as a nomad. I am no better than the stray cats or rats that roam the park.
I am like sucked into a black-hole without knowing what to do. It is times like this when I wished I had a better grasp over life's uncertainties. But I don't. The fleeting thought came and went. Just as well as I have no intention of harbouring any further thoughts of my future destiny especially since I can't control it.
I know I will never be happy with a woman but I can't seem to get Mr Right either. Am I destined to be all alone throughout my life, more so as the environment and system do not at all support the lifestyle I hanker after.
As I do not hold the key to the answers to life's destiny, I promptly thought of jogging back home quickly to settle down to some hot English tea and biscuits, just so to obliterate my gloomy thoughts for the night.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Please Patronise This Wanton Noodle Stall, Will You?
Don't accuse moi for just spewing criticism without handing out the solution. I just thought of the perfect public housing design that will ensure a panoramic view and open up all available wind channels. Build one block in the middle and to its left and right, cascade all others. The three triangular spaces to its sides and in the middle could be parking lots, landscaped gardens or other vital amenities. Don't you think this will pan out to be the "Architectural Wonder of the Next Century"? *Blink.
I visited one park connector that took me from one neighborhood town park to the river basin. Along the way, I spotted egrets, witnessed a crying tod in the arms of its mother (imagine a family in the making under a flyover), meandered through an opposition ward and experienced a bridge of love connecting a family of schools built over the river. It even had its own swimming pool and of course, the hunks (plus a couple of eye-sore - GALLS).
Speaking of which, I visited yet another much talked-about gym and it has the same offerings of facilities and hunks. Moi may just try this one out as well, right after all my other "trial runs" end at the other ones. Last night, moi went for a late-night jog and was justly rewarded with sweaty hunks running about the place. I think I am going to make this my regular running hotspot. *Blink.
It is strange that viaducts in other places are meant to be built over waters but here we have them built over roads and highways as well. We must be such ingenious people, yeah?
By the way, I promised this cheery and friendly OWO (one-woman-operated) noodle vendor whose stall lies at the cross-road between Opal Cresecent and Moonstone Lane , that I would help promote her food. The wanton mee I had was quite good, with a dash of sesame oil and a nice sauce, which makes it tasty. Not like the instant noodles that we are increasingly being subjected to at almost all food centres. So people, stop and sample her cuisine. I mean I had better fare in the heydays where noodles were real home-made reciped kind.
The sex on Mt Faber didn't happen. This liar claimed to be a good-looker but when I turned up, he was just a little stocky white as sheet piggy and he had the cheek to wanna play hard ball with moi. Pui. I may be hideous but I am not that desperate. *Blink (Hope I got that right).
But the upside was I discovered Mt Faber Park. It was a splendid view at its summit, a view stretching all across to Sentosa. There were Marina deck and Jewel Box too. And the whole place is so near to Harborfront so moi had a spot of fruit munching at its food outlet.
I watched the second round of Singapore Idol for the next batch of male finalists. I thought almost all were good save for one or two contestants. Since the last instalment would be a Wildcard proposition, it would be quite disturbing if Jay Lim, Norman Then or Randy Chua didn't make the cut. The voting got a bit of skewed I thought. I had given the female finalists' episodes the skip but Annabelle and Nurul were quite good, me thought. But they were ousted?
I aint sure what the hoo-ha is about Jac being as bland as the PAP's uniform but cut her some slack will you? She did do a mirthful take of Paul Twohill's appearance, didn't she? She was the kindest of the judges too I thought.
Ah, looks like native speakers are about to be hired in our schools to teach the English language. If I hadn't had my say on the subject yet, then let me say it now. Moi does not know what it means by "native". Who is really really really natives of the English language anyway. And if they are, prove it. If natives are to be hired to teach the English and Chinese languages, then why are non-natives teaching the Chinese language as well? We might as well hire the whole Maori tribe or aborigines if we want authentic native residents. Wouldn't we then be obsolete as a nation as all our citizens aint exactly native? Did you get that? *Blink.
There is going to be an episode on Christopher (the original SUPERMAN) and Dana Reeves. I think this will warm hearts and bring out the sniffles. I am certainly gonna watch this as this woman stuck by her man throughout his paralysis, epitomising the solemnisation of their marriage vows of "in sickness and health, till death do us part", just as Stephen Hawking's wife did.
Dwayne and Co, will you do the same for moi? This aint a marriage proposal, it is a date. *Blink.
I visited one park connector that took me from one neighborhood town park to the river basin. Along the way, I spotted egrets, witnessed a crying tod in the arms of its mother (imagine a family in the making under a flyover), meandered through an opposition ward and experienced a bridge of love connecting a family of schools built over the river. It even had its own swimming pool and of course, the hunks (plus a couple of eye-sore - GALLS).
Speaking of which, I visited yet another much talked-about gym and it has the same offerings of facilities and hunks. Moi may just try this one out as well, right after all my other "trial runs" end at the other ones. Last night, moi went for a late-night jog and was justly rewarded with sweaty hunks running about the place. I think I am going to make this my regular running hotspot. *Blink.
It is strange that viaducts in other places are meant to be built over waters but here we have them built over roads and highways as well. We must be such ingenious people, yeah?
By the way, I promised this cheery and friendly OWO (one-woman-operated) noodle vendor whose stall lies at the cross-road between Opal Cresecent and Moonstone Lane , that I would help promote her food. The wanton mee I had was quite good, with a dash of sesame oil and a nice sauce, which makes it tasty. Not like the instant noodles that we are increasingly being subjected to at almost all food centres. So people, stop and sample her cuisine. I mean I had better fare in the heydays where noodles were real home-made reciped kind.
The sex on Mt Faber didn't happen. This liar claimed to be a good-looker but when I turned up, he was just a little stocky white as sheet piggy and he had the cheek to wanna play hard ball with moi. Pui. I may be hideous but I am not that desperate. *Blink (Hope I got that right).
But the upside was I discovered Mt Faber Park. It was a splendid view at its summit, a view stretching all across to Sentosa. There were Marina deck and Jewel Box too. And the whole place is so near to Harborfront so moi had a spot of fruit munching at its food outlet.
I watched the second round of Singapore Idol for the next batch of male finalists. I thought almost all were good save for one or two contestants. Since the last instalment would be a Wildcard proposition, it would be quite disturbing if Jay Lim, Norman Then or Randy Chua didn't make the cut. The voting got a bit of skewed I thought. I had given the female finalists' episodes the skip but Annabelle and Nurul were quite good, me thought. But they were ousted?
I aint sure what the hoo-ha is about Jac being as bland as the PAP's uniform but cut her some slack will you? She did do a mirthful take of Paul Twohill's appearance, didn't she? She was the kindest of the judges too I thought.
Ah, looks like native speakers are about to be hired in our schools to teach the English language. If I hadn't had my say on the subject yet, then let me say it now. Moi does not know what it means by "native". Who is really really really natives of the English language anyway. And if they are, prove it. If natives are to be hired to teach the English and Chinese languages, then why are non-natives teaching the Chinese language as well? We might as well hire the whole Maori tribe or aborigines if we want authentic native residents. Wouldn't we then be obsolete as a nation as all our citizens aint exactly native? Did you get that? *Blink.
There is going to be an episode on Christopher (the original SUPERMAN) and Dana Reeves. I think this will warm hearts and bring out the sniffles. I am certainly gonna watch this as this woman stuck by her man throughout his paralysis, epitomising the solemnisation of their marriage vows of "in sickness and health, till death do us part", just as Stephen Hawking's wife did.
Dwayne and Co, will you do the same for moi? This aint a marriage proposal, it is a date. *Blink.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
SuperMan, The Rose Line , Sex On Mt Faber And Working Out
There he was again. Not Tony Blair. Not even Mahatma Gandhi. But "SUPERMAN".
This time, he looked even more majestic, his full 30-inch height, towering above the toppermost shelf at a Carrefour (oops, me hope me got the spelling right) store.
His handsome, chiselled face glances down menancingly at the hordes of humanity, hustling and bustling right under his brown, flapping (which by the way could double up as a short towel round your torso for pure exhibitionist fun and excitement at any sexy men's club ) cape and signature red underwear worn inside out. Oo.
The mere thought of being right under his watchful kryptonite eyes and sweaty sexy underwear is enough to set any heart of stone a-flutter. No? Think of all that fetishy fantasy you could indulge in just trying to get him stripped. Oolala.
This "action" figure (pardon the pun if you will) has limbs that can swing and a head that rotates 360 degrees. Imagine the oodles of fun you could have with limbs so nimble and a head so rotatable, blow-jobs by a human would be obscenely inferior to what "SUPERMAN" can do.
I SIMPLY MUST HAVE HIM! Someone please, spare moi the $69.90 to mop up this action hero figurine. I will be eternally grateful and we could split the fun and have twice the orgasm?
Now that I have time to sit still and ponder the wonders of the universe (even though Stephen Hawking's "The Hawking Paradox" has now proven to be false), I just realised my bodily mutilation lines along a left meridien, much like the "Rose Line" of "The Da Vinci Code" fame.
This can only mean one thing. MOI's body is the "Holy Temple Of Sacredness". TADAH! How's that for a real shocker! It could also mean that deep within me body lies buried the ancient treasures of the sacred feminine and masculine. The "yin-yang" of "qi" and "ji" (not the prostitution sort, mind you).
No wonder I have trouble trying to court Dwayne and his cousin/s. It must be my "qi" that "qu", so they exited the moment they sensed me "ji". What a lousy proverbial and antiquated wise Chinese belief. Dwayne and cousin/s, if you are reading this, please respond appropriately.
As I pen this blog, moi is awaiting the next moment of moi's life happening within the next two hours. I am supposed to meet up a real, hot, good-looking dude who lives near Mount Faber. I am supposed to rump him and I can imagine the screams and yelps as the "bonk bonk" sound reverberates around the entire circumference of the park.
The tourists up in the cable cars may even have a peek at us through the glass windows and decide they wanna try it out for themselves, man, woman or child. This way, the Singapore tourism dollar rises and we put ourselves on the world map for raw rauchiness in full public view.
Even the monkeys and birds inhabiting the park never will have it so good. The most they can is to bare their teeth or chirp a song. They can't moan or groan like a human do, can they?
Moi is still working out at this renowned gym. I like the ab machines very much but the older ones are creakily unhinged and loose so they have lost their intended salubrious effect. There are one or two very "weird" machines which don't seem to be built for human consumption. You can't move or work them very well without having to tip-toe . Any machine on tip-toe is not designed for the human body but for a ballerina.
In between, moi manages to steal a few snatches here and there visiting the public gyms (where the hunksters and youngsters are - somehow there is something temptingly succulent about a young dude's body and physique) and another equally renowned gym.
At this equally renowned gym, one branch has a breath-taking view of the sea and Singapore skyline. Equally breath-taking were the hunks showering and walking nude in the changing rooms. A handful had beautifully tattooed bodies. Yum yum.
It was an eyeful of sexually-exciting candies in colored lollipop flavors. I promised myself a "trial" test (meaning sampling the candies) of this equally famous gym some time soon in the future, right after I am done with the other equally well-known gym.
Did I mention all the time moi was lounging in the hall watching television that moi had never tasted a stir of breeze except for the very, very, very rare occasion. This shows that the "clustering" had not only obliterated the view but blocked all wind channels. Take this down, designers, the next time you plan your next monumental housing project.
And yes, Dwayne and company, when I surf at a public institution, your chatter-boxes somehow aren't there but at cybercafes, they miraculously appear for moi to post comments. Right now, I am sitting and blogging while gawking the incredible hunks that seem to traverse every sphere of my life wherever I go. Even right now at this moment. Beautiful.
I hope I get to ogle some LJs while peeing in the public toilets too. That would be the highlight of my life for sure. *Wink wink.
This time, he looked even more majestic, his full 30-inch height, towering above the toppermost shelf at a Carrefour (oops, me hope me got the spelling right) store.
His handsome, chiselled face glances down menancingly at the hordes of humanity, hustling and bustling right under his brown, flapping (which by the way could double up as a short towel round your torso for pure exhibitionist fun and excitement at any sexy men's club ) cape and signature red underwear worn inside out. Oo.
The mere thought of being right under his watchful kryptonite eyes and sweaty sexy underwear is enough to set any heart of stone a-flutter. No? Think of all that fetishy fantasy you could indulge in just trying to get him stripped. Oolala.
This "action" figure (pardon the pun if you will) has limbs that can swing and a head that rotates 360 degrees. Imagine the oodles of fun you could have with limbs so nimble and a head so rotatable, blow-jobs by a human would be obscenely inferior to what "SUPERMAN" can do.
I SIMPLY MUST HAVE HIM! Someone please, spare moi the $69.90 to mop up this action hero figurine. I will be eternally grateful and we could split the fun and have twice the orgasm?
Now that I have time to sit still and ponder the wonders of the universe (even though Stephen Hawking's "The Hawking Paradox" has now proven to be false), I just realised my bodily mutilation lines along a left meridien, much like the "Rose Line" of "The Da Vinci Code" fame.
This can only mean one thing. MOI's body is the "Holy Temple Of Sacredness". TADAH! How's that for a real shocker! It could also mean that deep within me body lies buried the ancient treasures of the sacred feminine and masculine. The "yin-yang" of "qi" and "ji" (not the prostitution sort, mind you).
No wonder I have trouble trying to court Dwayne and his cousin/s. It must be my "qi" that "qu", so they exited the moment they sensed me "ji". What a lousy proverbial and antiquated wise Chinese belief. Dwayne and cousin/s, if you are reading this, please respond appropriately.
As I pen this blog, moi is awaiting the next moment of moi's life happening within the next two hours. I am supposed to meet up a real, hot, good-looking dude who lives near Mount Faber. I am supposed to rump him and I can imagine the screams and yelps as the "bonk bonk" sound reverberates around the entire circumference of the park.
The tourists up in the cable cars may even have a peek at us through the glass windows and decide they wanna try it out for themselves, man, woman or child. This way, the Singapore tourism dollar rises and we put ourselves on the world map for raw rauchiness in full public view.
Even the monkeys and birds inhabiting the park never will have it so good. The most they can is to bare their teeth or chirp a song. They can't moan or groan like a human do, can they?
Moi is still working out at this renowned gym. I like the ab machines very much but the older ones are creakily unhinged and loose so they have lost their intended salubrious effect. There are one or two very "weird" machines which don't seem to be built for human consumption. You can't move or work them very well without having to tip-toe . Any machine on tip-toe is not designed for the human body but for a ballerina.
In between, moi manages to steal a few snatches here and there visiting the public gyms (where the hunksters and youngsters are - somehow there is something temptingly succulent about a young dude's body and physique) and another equally renowned gym.
At this equally renowned gym, one branch has a breath-taking view of the sea and Singapore skyline. Equally breath-taking were the hunks showering and walking nude in the changing rooms. A handful had beautifully tattooed bodies. Yum yum.
It was an eyeful of sexually-exciting candies in colored lollipop flavors. I promised myself a "trial" test (meaning sampling the candies) of this equally famous gym some time soon in the future, right after I am done with the other equally well-known gym.
Did I mention all the time moi was lounging in the hall watching television that moi had never tasted a stir of breeze except for the very, very, very rare occasion. This shows that the "clustering" had not only obliterated the view but blocked all wind channels. Take this down, designers, the next time you plan your next monumental housing project.
And yes, Dwayne and company, when I surf at a public institution, your chatter-boxes somehow aren't there but at cybercafes, they miraculously appear for moi to post comments. Right now, I am sitting and blogging while gawking the incredible hunks that seem to traverse every sphere of my life wherever I go. Even right now at this moment. Beautiful.
I hope I get to ogle some LJs while peeing in the public toilets too. That would be the highlight of my life for sure. *Wink wink.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Gimme A Photo-Break Ok?
Why is it that every time you wanna date a guy , he wans your pic before anything else? I mean what do looks have anything to do with anything? I mean it is just a date for a friendship, not sex or a "man-hunt" quest, right? So what is it with photos?
I can be most un-photogenic. But in real life, I look better than I think. All my dumpsters can testify to that. Otherwise why would they dump moi? Because they were the beasty ones, not moi. Moi is the "beauty". They couldn't bear the thought of their ugly, filthy paws violating and defiling an art of beauty and physique.
It is also the gospel truth that I simply can't upload any of me photos even if I happen to snap a Michelangelo nude in the mirror. Many of the comps in public places have their CPUs disabled or locked away. They are intended for pure surfing or gaming fun, not dabble in digital technology.
One way I found myself working round this "conundrum" is to suggest a meet-up, come what may. The catch is to leave after 15 minutes should I find him in need of a nose job and he thinks I need plastic surgery. That is a fair deal, is it not?
Come on guys, gimme a break. All I want is good conversation and start a relationship. But if your baloney is mustard and spiced, I would consider that too.
I can be most un-photogenic. But in real life, I look better than I think. All my dumpsters can testify to that. Otherwise why would they dump moi? Because they were the beasty ones, not moi. Moi is the "beauty". They couldn't bear the thought of their ugly, filthy paws violating and defiling an art of beauty and physique.
It is also the gospel truth that I simply can't upload any of me photos even if I happen to snap a Michelangelo nude in the mirror. Many of the comps in public places have their CPUs disabled or locked away. They are intended for pure surfing or gaming fun, not dabble in digital technology.
One way I found myself working round this "conundrum" is to suggest a meet-up, come what may. The catch is to leave after 15 minutes should I find him in need of a nose job and he thinks I need plastic surgery. That is a fair deal, is it not?
Come on guys, gimme a break. All I want is good conversation and start a relationship. But if your baloney is mustard and spiced, I would consider that too.
Friday, June 16, 2006
Body Mutilation , Home And What's Up At The Movies
I happened to read the plaque and "home" now where moi is staying was apparently built by some foreign architect or at least it had some foreign-sounding name. One really bad move must be all that clustering, so much so that the blue sky, the water and the hilly greenery in the distant horizon are all obliterated by the skyscrapers. **Sigh.
In just one week, I had my entire bodily existence mutilated. I had my cyst drained. And yes, I threw away the pain-killers and antibiotics the doc prescribed. Moi is a firm believer in not overdoing antibiotics in view of resistant strains of bugs and now that scientific research has proven that we are made up of genes and bacteria, these drugs are just gonna disturb the balance of things.
I had my earhole and tattoo. All these had caused me considerable discomfort as I can't sit really upright or lean against a backrest fully. In fact my wound had dripped blood on me clothes and bed-spread while I sleep, prompting moi to sleep on my side all the time.
I have watched "Slither" and that movie was really scary and funny both at the same time. Scary when you remember "end-of-the-world" scenario with worms taking over our planet. Funny when you observe the way the gals get zapped by its octopus tentacles. "Omen" wasn't even close to being that scary.
In just one week, I had my entire bodily existence mutilated. I had my cyst drained. And yes, I threw away the pain-killers and antibiotics the doc prescribed. Moi is a firm believer in not overdoing antibiotics in view of resistant strains of bugs and now that scientific research has proven that we are made up of genes and bacteria, these drugs are just gonna disturb the balance of things.
I had my earhole and tattoo. All these had caused me considerable discomfort as I can't sit really upright or lean against a backrest fully. In fact my wound had dripped blood on me clothes and bed-spread while I sleep, prompting moi to sleep on my side all the time.
I have watched "Slither" and that movie was really scary and funny both at the same time. Scary when you remember "end-of-the-world" scenario with worms taking over our planet. Funny when you observe the way the gals get zapped by its octopus tentacles. "Omen" wasn't even close to being that scary.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
The Two Things That Make My Heart Go "Thump" And Why The CCR Is Truly A Natural Refuge
The first heart-thumper must certainly be women! Don't get me wrong. I am just so green with envy at the things they could do with themselves.
I had my first brush with a young Indian lady I met on the train. She had this green eye shadow, color-coordinated with her green, soft leather handbag, sari and two ignormously looped earrings starkly contrasted against her dark complexion. She looked marvellously radiant.
The Chinese lady, on the other hand, stood out with her purple lips and nails, decked out in sterling-purple earrings and rings. She wore a black turtle-neck with matching blue jeans, topped by a half-purple leather handbag and green pointed shoes. GOD! The stuff women (and girls) can do to brighten and beautify themselves!
Not to be outdone, moi had now switched to a pair of 5-cent sized, dazzling, crystalline ear studs shaped like a star within a box. Size matters as my ear-lobes are Buddha's reincarnation and a pin-sized stud just won't do. I also sport the same crystalline-studded sterling silver finger ring, handing out a lame excuse that moi is bethrothed (to I dont even know who).
Moi now contemplates dabbing on black finger-nail polish and lipstick.
The other heart-thumper is "SUPERMAN". Because of the movie tie-in, Mattel had put out several "Superman" action figures (be forewarned, all carry the "Made In China" label).
I was, in particular, attracted to this 30 inch (which tops even a man's XXL whopper) figurine. I felt all parts of its anatomy and they were all rock solid polymer carved out in defined musculature. So if I can't sleep in with a real-live man, I reckon I might as well have a substitute, doubling up as a sex toy or dildo even. The only hold-back was its exorbitant price!
I journeyed to visit my ex-classmate today to see if I could dispose of my investment so that I could be on the Forbes' list overnight. Apparently I couldn't because Bill Gates had beaten moi to it. But guess what, I had an even better deal while on the bus.
A young, fair, handsome, athletic, albeit slightly pimply, man (or boy) plonked his hard ass next to me. He edged so close to moi, I could feel his warmth and thighs grating on mine. I had never had a man so close to me for a very long time now and I immediately stoned! I wanted to do more, like slide my fingers up his shorts, huggle or something but somehow better sense kept me in check. WHAT A HAPPENING CHANCE I HAD PASSED UP! SHITTY BOLLOCKS!
No matter, I did have my fill when checking out the two latest, new and upgraded Community Clubs. Both had indoor basketball courts which means no more sun-kissed Adonises but it is a small price to pay for gawking sweaty, topless, washboard hunks "at play". In fact one had a "window to the hunky world" kinda concept where you could peer at them "playing" while seated inside the community library. Oo. Glass-bowl voyeurism!
The Central Catchment Reserve is 100 times, if not a million times, in size when compared to any puny town park in any town (although there is one which looks like a mini-ECP). So there is absolutely no basis for comparison at all. That means there isn't any over-crowding. Imagine a five-room flat bursting at the seams if there were a score of multi-generational families living within it.
No man-made landscaping can beat its natural landscaping with its gravelled dirt track shaded for most part of the way by trees and boardwalks edging the clean, bluish-green water (unlike all those un-natural ponds). There is only one cafe on a hill-top, unlike all the commercial establishments at the other town parks, which only serve to attract the hordes, which isn't natural anymore. You can go for hours on end here but probably finish within an hour or so at the other town parks.
If you still can't see the difference, you prolly need "progressive" lenses. This is the latest in opthalmology where your lens is divided into far, near and intermediate areas.
Amen.
I had my first brush with a young Indian lady I met on the train. She had this green eye shadow, color-coordinated with her green, soft leather handbag, sari and two ignormously looped earrings starkly contrasted against her dark complexion. She looked marvellously radiant.
The Chinese lady, on the other hand, stood out with her purple lips and nails, decked out in sterling-purple earrings and rings. She wore a black turtle-neck with matching blue jeans, topped by a half-purple leather handbag and green pointed shoes. GOD! The stuff women (and girls) can do to brighten and beautify themselves!
Not to be outdone, moi had now switched to a pair of 5-cent sized, dazzling, crystalline ear studs shaped like a star within a box. Size matters as my ear-lobes are Buddha's reincarnation and a pin-sized stud just won't do. I also sport the same crystalline-studded sterling silver finger ring, handing out a lame excuse that moi is bethrothed (to I dont even know who).
Moi now contemplates dabbing on black finger-nail polish and lipstick.
The other heart-thumper is "SUPERMAN". Because of the movie tie-in, Mattel had put out several "Superman" action figures (be forewarned, all carry the "Made In China" label).
I was, in particular, attracted to this 30 inch (which tops even a man's XXL whopper) figurine. I felt all parts of its anatomy and they were all rock solid polymer carved out in defined musculature. So if I can't sleep in with a real-live man, I reckon I might as well have a substitute, doubling up as a sex toy or dildo even. The only hold-back was its exorbitant price!
I journeyed to visit my ex-classmate today to see if I could dispose of my investment so that I could be on the Forbes' list overnight. Apparently I couldn't because Bill Gates had beaten moi to it. But guess what, I had an even better deal while on the bus.
A young, fair, handsome, athletic, albeit slightly pimply, man (or boy) plonked his hard ass next to me. He edged so close to moi, I could feel his warmth and thighs grating on mine. I had never had a man so close to me for a very long time now and I immediately stoned! I wanted to do more, like slide my fingers up his shorts, huggle or something but somehow better sense kept me in check. WHAT A HAPPENING CHANCE I HAD PASSED UP! SHITTY BOLLOCKS!
No matter, I did have my fill when checking out the two latest, new and upgraded Community Clubs. Both had indoor basketball courts which means no more sun-kissed Adonises but it is a small price to pay for gawking sweaty, topless, washboard hunks "at play". In fact one had a "window to the hunky world" kinda concept where you could peer at them "playing" while seated inside the community library. Oo. Glass-bowl voyeurism!
The Central Catchment Reserve is 100 times, if not a million times, in size when compared to any puny town park in any town (although there is one which looks like a mini-ECP). So there is absolutely no basis for comparison at all. That means there isn't any over-crowding. Imagine a five-room flat bursting at the seams if there were a score of multi-generational families living within it.
No man-made landscaping can beat its natural landscaping with its gravelled dirt track shaded for most part of the way by trees and boardwalks edging the clean, bluish-green water (unlike all those un-natural ponds). There is only one cafe on a hill-top, unlike all the commercial establishments at the other town parks, which only serve to attract the hordes, which isn't natural anymore. You can go for hours on end here but probably finish within an hour or so at the other town parks.
If you still can't see the difference, you prolly need "progressive" lenses. This is the latest in opthalmology where your lens is divided into far, near and intermediate areas.
Amen.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Yer Good Luck And Mine
Surprise! I am blogging again. I just finished me workout at a renowned gym. I have been going round its few branches to have a peek at what it has in store. It has some really great equipment for lateral raises and a myriad of stuff for just each body part. I had a full body analysis and was assigned a complimentary personal trainer for one session (no wonder he is free!).
After snacking on a Subway sandwich and gulping down a cup of Acapulco juice, I noticed a free internet kiosk just round the corner. So here I am, blogging. Just my luck and yours. I get to yak and you get to read a B-O-N-U-S blog!!!!! Tada.
So what shall I talk about. Right. I noticed there are many words or phrases in the English language that do not actually tell the whole story. So if I had said that Mr Psycho was bald, you won't really know if he had little or no hair right? If I had said bald-pated, you would. But what if someone had just a little turf sticking out of his pate? What do you call that? Turf-bald?
By the way as I passed by Mr Psycho's residence today, he was actually pottering in his "garden" again. He had hung some drapery (which is some old, soiled linen, trust me, I know every inch of cobweb and dust around the place) across me ex-room's porch. I think he is doing this to satisfy some psychotic need inside of him to decorate and redecorate, hailing from his "hair designing" days. Who knows, he may be thinking of being the next miraculous revival of "Old Scissorhands Of Down The Dumps East"?
I watched one episode of "The Nanny" and it was a very telling story. It was about this family where the son had to be force-fed as he shuns food. It doesn't help that meal-times are turned into a mortal combat of sorts with Mom yelling and pushing and shoving and son screaming and yelping. By the end of the episode, with Nanny's help of course, son Brandon is actually roped in to help prepare and cook meals.
What a turn-around! It smacks so much of an Asian family setting where somehow fat and chubby toddlers are held in high esteem for its purported healthier and more well-fed outlook. It also reminds moi of the battleground schools have turned into with educators on one side and pupils on the other. Everything is "issues galore".
Because we are so concentrated on "forced eating", we forgot to relax and just let things naturally progress. In education, we are so concentrated on "exams and grades" (that means the number of credits or distinctions) , we forgot to focus on the "joy of learning" process. We forgot to create that ambience and opportunity for learning and self-discovery.
I met some personal bankers, young business graduates. Certainly they have been trained in the knowledge of the financial products they were selling but when I throw a few questions down their way, they could not fathom and apply the knowledge they have or go beyond that. It is a sure case of loads of memorisation and rattling off a standard template. Much like answering an essay question in an examination within a limited time frame. Does it test anything?
It also seems that Asian parents do look upon their children more as economic productive units (much like most Asian states) rather than as bundles of joy whom they wanna bring into the world to love, give and receive. I can understand if the older generation needs this support as they are not as educated and thus need financial assistance from their children.
But with each passing generation, parents have to be financially independent. That is why moi wants to be in this position. Anyway it isn't my style to ask for hand-outs. I wanna make my own money and spend it the way I see fit, with no-one breathing down my neck. I also do not want to be a burden to my kid especially in this economic times where the future generation may not even be earning enough to feed themselves.
And I, for sure, want my money for retirement NOW. We won't know what will happen. I can not work all of a sudden due to ill health or something (like the back-breaking fall I had) .With cash on hand, you feel safer and in control. And in your own home too.
Remember how dowries are a must when a daughter is married off in some societies? Sometimes it makes you think if it was a marriage or a cash transaction. Selling your daughter?
I also caught the trailer of the female finalists for Singapore Idol. I am not sure if the segment I watched did justice to any of their vocals but oh my god, I don't think even one measured up to their idols' songs they hoped to mimick. Just not within their vocal range. Maybe only Melissa would make it, I thought. By the way I didn't watch either episode of the "performance" or the "results" so I don't know who won even though the winner would have been announced by now.
It isn't as if I want to be in the position I am in now. I can't get out of it. Every stinking bastard I come across just push me into this tight corner I am in now. I have no where to go, no work to do, so what do you want me to do? All these bitches and bastards only open their mouths to yak, providing me with no concrete solution or action plan. Damn you and do not second guess what I am thinking or assume a whole host of stuff which isn't true.
I know best what I wanna do. I am not into any special education. Neither do I want to be with "at risk" youths. Hey, I may be riskier than they are! I wanna do gifted education. So there! Cross my heart , burn my lips and scorch my tongue. I think I just said it.
Oh yes my wishlist just got wider to include a tour of Europe and the Middle East.
To the credit of the urban planners, "home" where I am now has the apartments very well landscaped and seamlessly integrated with the parking lots and roof-top gardens. The rooms are also well-proportioned and the bay windows , available only in the living hall, let in lots of natural light.
But moi happens to be at a remote, far-flung "terminal point" of the mass rapid transit system. With no more than 5 bus services running here, it means traversing the whole length of the mass rapid transit just to get to the other parts of Singapore. Not only that, there is no sports facilities, library or LAN shop (remember I don't own a computer anymore and this is for surfing not gaming) anywhere. To do a spot of Microsofting is even near impossible at some LAN shops, especially if your files are on floppy or something, not to say of the place here. Life is practically zilch.
To get to the next neigboring town takes at least an hour by bus . In fact I need to hop on to its neighboring town's bus terminal en-route to my destination. Journeys sometimes look like this : LRT-MRT-Bus-Bus.
It is ironical that just to stretch or exercise, you need to take a bus to get there. The concrete trail , though reminiscent of the Benjamin Sheares bridge, offers no respite from vehicular traffic (it is a connecting viaduct after all). The only refuge is a trail edged on a murky, foul-smelling, polluted canal/body of water/river. The only memorable occasion I witness here is of a bird which spiral-dived, head-on, into the water to catch its food.
It is just shop, eat, rot and sleep away your time here. A ghost town with a ghost train to boot. One small train to hold the peak-hour crowd.
The galls are really getting on my nerves, especially this bitch ass at the gym, a senior instructress no less. Before she shoots off her mouth, I wished she had put more thought and tact in her "communication". Otherwise I would have to reason with her and show her how flawed her logic and thinking is. Anyway if you are reading this, SHUT UP.
I won't blog about it here as I have written in a report on that incident. It seems I need to write to get things off me system.
After snacking on a Subway sandwich and gulping down a cup of Acapulco juice, I noticed a free internet kiosk just round the corner. So here I am, blogging. Just my luck and yours. I get to yak and you get to read a B-O-N-U-S blog!!!!! Tada.
So what shall I talk about. Right. I noticed there are many words or phrases in the English language that do not actually tell the whole story. So if I had said that Mr Psycho was bald, you won't really know if he had little or no hair right? If I had said bald-pated, you would. But what if someone had just a little turf sticking out of his pate? What do you call that? Turf-bald?
By the way as I passed by Mr Psycho's residence today, he was actually pottering in his "garden" again. He had hung some drapery (which is some old, soiled linen, trust me, I know every inch of cobweb and dust around the place) across me ex-room's porch. I think he is doing this to satisfy some psychotic need inside of him to decorate and redecorate, hailing from his "hair designing" days. Who knows, he may be thinking of being the next miraculous revival of "Old Scissorhands Of Down The Dumps East"?
I watched one episode of "The Nanny" and it was a very telling story. It was about this family where the son had to be force-fed as he shuns food. It doesn't help that meal-times are turned into a mortal combat of sorts with Mom yelling and pushing and shoving and son screaming and yelping. By the end of the episode, with Nanny's help of course, son Brandon is actually roped in to help prepare and cook meals.
What a turn-around! It smacks so much of an Asian family setting where somehow fat and chubby toddlers are held in high esteem for its purported healthier and more well-fed outlook. It also reminds moi of the battleground schools have turned into with educators on one side and pupils on the other. Everything is "issues galore".
Because we are so concentrated on "forced eating", we forgot to relax and just let things naturally progress. In education, we are so concentrated on "exams and grades" (that means the number of credits or distinctions) , we forgot to focus on the "joy of learning" process. We forgot to create that ambience and opportunity for learning and self-discovery.
I met some personal bankers, young business graduates. Certainly they have been trained in the knowledge of the financial products they were selling but when I throw a few questions down their way, they could not fathom and apply the knowledge they have or go beyond that. It is a sure case of loads of memorisation and rattling off a standard template. Much like answering an essay question in an examination within a limited time frame. Does it test anything?
It also seems that Asian parents do look upon their children more as economic productive units (much like most Asian states) rather than as bundles of joy whom they wanna bring into the world to love, give and receive. I can understand if the older generation needs this support as they are not as educated and thus need financial assistance from their children.
But with each passing generation, parents have to be financially independent. That is why moi wants to be in this position. Anyway it isn't my style to ask for hand-outs. I wanna make my own money and spend it the way I see fit, with no-one breathing down my neck. I also do not want to be a burden to my kid especially in this economic times where the future generation may not even be earning enough to feed themselves.
And I, for sure, want my money for retirement NOW. We won't know what will happen. I can not work all of a sudden due to ill health or something (like the back-breaking fall I had) .With cash on hand, you feel safer and in control. And in your own home too.
Remember how dowries are a must when a daughter is married off in some societies? Sometimes it makes you think if it was a marriage or a cash transaction. Selling your daughter?
I also caught the trailer of the female finalists for Singapore Idol. I am not sure if the segment I watched did justice to any of their vocals but oh my god, I don't think even one measured up to their idols' songs they hoped to mimick. Just not within their vocal range. Maybe only Melissa would make it, I thought. By the way I didn't watch either episode of the "performance" or the "results" so I don't know who won even though the winner would have been announced by now.
It isn't as if I want to be in the position I am in now. I can't get out of it. Every stinking bastard I come across just push me into this tight corner I am in now. I have no where to go, no work to do, so what do you want me to do? All these bitches and bastards only open their mouths to yak, providing me with no concrete solution or action plan. Damn you and do not second guess what I am thinking or assume a whole host of stuff which isn't true.
I know best what I wanna do. I am not into any special education. Neither do I want to be with "at risk" youths. Hey, I may be riskier than they are! I wanna do gifted education. So there! Cross my heart , burn my lips and scorch my tongue. I think I just said it.
Oh yes my wishlist just got wider to include a tour of Europe and the Middle East.
To the credit of the urban planners, "home" where I am now has the apartments very well landscaped and seamlessly integrated with the parking lots and roof-top gardens. The rooms are also well-proportioned and the bay windows , available only in the living hall, let in lots of natural light.
But moi happens to be at a remote, far-flung "terminal point" of the mass rapid transit system. With no more than 5 bus services running here, it means traversing the whole length of the mass rapid transit just to get to the other parts of Singapore. Not only that, there is no sports facilities, library or LAN shop (remember I don't own a computer anymore and this is for surfing not gaming) anywhere. To do a spot of Microsofting is even near impossible at some LAN shops, especially if your files are on floppy or something, not to say of the place here. Life is practically zilch.
To get to the next neigboring town takes at least an hour by bus . In fact I need to hop on to its neighboring town's bus terminal en-route to my destination. Journeys sometimes look like this : LRT-MRT-Bus-Bus.
It is ironical that just to stretch or exercise, you need to take a bus to get there. The concrete trail , though reminiscent of the Benjamin Sheares bridge, offers no respite from vehicular traffic (it is a connecting viaduct after all). The only refuge is a trail edged on a murky, foul-smelling, polluted canal/body of water/river. The only memorable occasion I witness here is of a bird which spiral-dived, head-on, into the water to catch its food.
It is just shop, eat, rot and sleep away your time here. A ghost town with a ghost train to boot. One small train to hold the peak-hour crowd.
The galls are really getting on my nerves, especially this bitch ass at the gym, a senior instructress no less. Before she shoots off her mouth, I wished she had put more thought and tact in her "communication". Otherwise I would have to reason with her and show her how flawed her logic and thinking is. Anyway if you are reading this, SHUT UP.
I won't blog about it here as I have written in a report on that incident. It seems I need to write to get things off me system.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Of Mice And Men
Ah, there was a score of them, I reckon. Sweaty, smelly, tanned army hunks out on a NDP exercise. After some pep talk from their superior, they were dismissed and all hell broke loose. They came charging into the showers and that terribly terrible terrible stench.
Sorry moi was all done up and I may be a slut whore at times but that doesn't mean I don't stick by some hygiene rules. If moi were as sweaty and smelly as they were, hey, it would have been a fusion of twos, maybe even threes. But as it is, moi stuck his nose up in the air and walked away. Sorry guys! **Wink wink.
Mr He-Ape has a "school" presence in the neighborhood. Judging from the couple of office suites he is occupying , their layout and its monopolistic hold within the precinct, he seems to be doing pretty well. All this for blood-sucking off un-suspecting preys. I chanced upon its flyer (so if his "school" is so good and news of its reputation (or infamy) gets spread around by word of mouth, why does he need a flyer doing the rounds in the estate? Explain that.).
Strewn with grammatical errors (and this coming from a "school" player for 19 years) , it proclaims its "best" program, how "only the best serve the "school"" (She-Ape was the best? *laugh my hard arse off) and a whole load of crapshit. It highlighted its top PSLE scorers and credited their successes to it (rather than the schools these pupils attend - who spend more time with the students?).
This laugh-a-minute, self-praisy flyer must take the cake for cheesiness.
Ah, moi had his ear peirced, adorned with a gleaming blue stud. Moi also has part of his anatomy tattooed. For the hour or so, moi sat and cringed as a searing pain tore through his body and mind you, this is only a golf-ball sized spherical design in nice shades of green. I can't imagine how one could endure a whole body tattoo! Only "intimate" curios will get to know where my tattoo is!
I am having problems with this doorway broom. Every time I sweep up the dust, dirt and grime, it sheds its bristles. Talk about sweeping after a broom.
Ok I just have about enough time to blog a little here. Till then, adios.
Sorry moi was all done up and I may be a slut whore at times but that doesn't mean I don't stick by some hygiene rules. If moi were as sweaty and smelly as they were, hey, it would have been a fusion of twos, maybe even threes. But as it is, moi stuck his nose up in the air and walked away. Sorry guys! **Wink wink.
Mr He-Ape has a "school" presence in the neighborhood. Judging from the couple of office suites he is occupying , their layout and its monopolistic hold within the precinct, he seems to be doing pretty well. All this for blood-sucking off un-suspecting preys. I chanced upon its flyer (so if his "school" is so good and news of its reputation (or infamy) gets spread around by word of mouth, why does he need a flyer doing the rounds in the estate? Explain that.).
Strewn with grammatical errors (and this coming from a "school" player for 19 years) , it proclaims its "best" program, how "only the best serve the "school"" (She-Ape was the best? *laugh my hard arse off) and a whole load of crapshit. It highlighted its top PSLE scorers and credited their successes to it (rather than the schools these pupils attend - who spend more time with the students?).
This laugh-a-minute, self-praisy flyer must take the cake for cheesiness.
Ah, moi had his ear peirced, adorned with a gleaming blue stud. Moi also has part of his anatomy tattooed. For the hour or so, moi sat and cringed as a searing pain tore through his body and mind you, this is only a golf-ball sized spherical design in nice shades of green. I can't imagine how one could endure a whole body tattoo! Only "intimate" curios will get to know where my tattoo is!
I am having problems with this doorway broom. Every time I sweep up the dust, dirt and grime, it sheds its bristles. Talk about sweeping after a broom.
Ok I just have about enough time to blog a little here. Till then, adios.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Singapore Idol Rocks, I Venerate Thee, TV And Movies Rock, Gym Etiquette, Evan And Home
The national newspaper carried an article on developments of the internet as an alternative platform for political views. The James Gomez saga came up again for mention and a newly-elected MP even had her say at a university's forum discussion.
Seriously I am also baffled by James Gomez. I would have understood if he had just cited a moment of forgetfulness in stashing away the document instead of handing it over or perhaps that he had meant to submit it some other time instead of over the counter that very day. Somehow this did become a saga of sorts. Hmmmmm, so what is really up?
Watching Singapore Idol really got me all worked up. Just speaking for that "piano show" episode of the 7 male finalists, it is no secret that the last three contestants were clearly the winners with their big voices (although one will be booted).
However how can we ever expect our local talent to sing the songs they pick like their Western counterparts and just as professionally? In the first place, do they even have a choice? I mean they could only pick songs that way, right, from a platter of Western pop rock or other genres? So it couldn't have been the pick of the song that makes or breaks.
In fact their idols' songs were specially penned for them, weren't they? I mean Celine Dion has her composer composing the song which matched her vocals, right? Or Mariah Carey or Whitney Houston?
What we should have done is to have composers compose songs more suited to our local talents' vocal ranges (I mean for the sake of the other losing contestants who can't really measure up to Paul Twohill, Norman Then and Jonathon Leong - how many people can sing like that?).
Clement Chow penned and sang our NDP song and didn't it come out really swell? Or if you care to remember the "Courtesy" jingle of old, that was real snappy too. Or our "Majullah Singapura". So it should have been a showcase of our "real" local talent.
Oh my God! That pop rock musician I raved about in my earlier blog who sat next to moi in the LAN shop was de facto a Singapore Idol finalist. *Swoons. I sat next to a "Singapore Idol finalist", can you imagine that? *Screams. For all I know, he could even be the next Singapore Idol. *Swoons again.
From now on, that seat where he sat would be venerated ok. Everytime moi blog in that LAN shop, moi will kow-tow 1000x to it and scream his lungs out. *Winks. Oo. And his audience that night cried and poked fun at his last name too.
There are many good shows on TV right now. Oprah Winfrey rocks. Two and A Half Men rocks. ET rocks too. X-Men, the Last Stand and probably the last instalment n a trilogy, certainly symbolises very well what gays would have wanted, the Golden Gate Bridge unhinged and reaching across the San Francisco Bay to Alcatraz, I think. A bridge to humanity? Milk of human kindness? Human contact with the isolated and different? Wasn't that how the X-men felt?
I remember riding the Greyhound bus from LA to San Francisco and when this brick red bridge came into sight, I was actually hopping excited.
Did I also mention a little boy sat next to me at a computer terminal one night and he was so cute, I had to make gooey eyes at him? Or that I bumped into Evan, the other one of a pair of Ozzie kiddos I ranted about? They just live across from moi with their grandparents and will be moving back to Ozland once their vacation here is over. Don't think I wanna get too close with dudes who are leaving so soon.
Hey this LRT is really slow as a choo-choo train chugging along the rails. I could actually see it in the distance, chugging its way round the tracks, as slow as a 100 year old's erection. As I said, living around the central catchment area offered moi a respite, a retreat into a world of natural surrounds. Where moi's home is now, I can't even take a stroll anywhere. It doesn't offer any refuge anywhere. And no gym, no pool, no community club (so moi can gape at the basketball hunks) no nothing. And this is life?
Gym etiquette 101: Please do not hover like a hawk either in front or behind a fellow gymmie. I mean if you wanna share the "equipment" (and I don't mean anything else, if you think it, it is just your filthy mind ok) with him, just go up to him, smile and say so. Don't hover. Hey and I mean the women too. They hover so. But I won't do anything for you though ( stick out tongue).
I mean moi goes weak in the muscles like that and you won't want him to drop his weights on your toes now, do you? Or on your wherever? And I am scared too. All those incredible hulks could just come up to me and drop their shorts at a moment's notice and ask moi to do "unmentionables". I can't take too big a bratwurst ok. I would oblige if you ask politely though. *Wink. So who is the austitic one here?
I want TLC, not rough harsh words or anything. I need love. Not hate. I want peace, not war. Do you understand? Good. Drop your shorts, NOW! I oblige.
Seriously I am also baffled by James Gomez. I would have understood if he had just cited a moment of forgetfulness in stashing away the document instead of handing it over or perhaps that he had meant to submit it some other time instead of over the counter that very day. Somehow this did become a saga of sorts. Hmmmmm, so what is really up?
Watching Singapore Idol really got me all worked up. Just speaking for that "piano show" episode of the 7 male finalists, it is no secret that the last three contestants were clearly the winners with their big voices (although one will be booted).
However how can we ever expect our local talent to sing the songs they pick like their Western counterparts and just as professionally? In the first place, do they even have a choice? I mean they could only pick songs that way, right, from a platter of Western pop rock or other genres? So it couldn't have been the pick of the song that makes or breaks.
In fact their idols' songs were specially penned for them, weren't they? I mean Celine Dion has her composer composing the song which matched her vocals, right? Or Mariah Carey or Whitney Houston?
What we should have done is to have composers compose songs more suited to our local talents' vocal ranges (I mean for the sake of the other losing contestants who can't really measure up to Paul Twohill, Norman Then and Jonathon Leong - how many people can sing like that?).
Clement Chow penned and sang our NDP song and didn't it come out really swell? Or if you care to remember the "Courtesy" jingle of old, that was real snappy too. Or our "Majullah Singapura". So it should have been a showcase of our "real" local talent.
Oh my God! That pop rock musician I raved about in my earlier blog who sat next to moi in the LAN shop was de facto a Singapore Idol finalist. *Swoons. I sat next to a "Singapore Idol finalist", can you imagine that? *Screams. For all I know, he could even be the next Singapore Idol. *Swoons again.
From now on, that seat where he sat would be venerated ok. Everytime moi blog in that LAN shop, moi will kow-tow 1000x to it and scream his lungs out. *Winks. Oo. And his audience that night cried and poked fun at his last name too.
There are many good shows on TV right now. Oprah Winfrey rocks. Two and A Half Men rocks. ET rocks too. X-Men, the Last Stand and probably the last instalment n a trilogy, certainly symbolises very well what gays would have wanted, the Golden Gate Bridge unhinged and reaching across the San Francisco Bay to Alcatraz, I think. A bridge to humanity? Milk of human kindness? Human contact with the isolated and different? Wasn't that how the X-men felt?
I remember riding the Greyhound bus from LA to San Francisco and when this brick red bridge came into sight, I was actually hopping excited.
Did I also mention a little boy sat next to me at a computer terminal one night and he was so cute, I had to make gooey eyes at him? Or that I bumped into Evan, the other one of a pair of Ozzie kiddos I ranted about? They just live across from moi with their grandparents and will be moving back to Ozland once their vacation here is over. Don't think I wanna get too close with dudes who are leaving so soon.
Hey this LRT is really slow as a choo-choo train chugging along the rails. I could actually see it in the distance, chugging its way round the tracks, as slow as a 100 year old's erection. As I said, living around the central catchment area offered moi a respite, a retreat into a world of natural surrounds. Where moi's home is now, I can't even take a stroll anywhere. It doesn't offer any refuge anywhere. And no gym, no pool, no community club (so moi can gape at the basketball hunks) no nothing. And this is life?
Gym etiquette 101: Please do not hover like a hawk either in front or behind a fellow gymmie. I mean if you wanna share the "equipment" (and I don't mean anything else, if you think it, it is just your filthy mind ok) with him, just go up to him, smile and say so. Don't hover. Hey and I mean the women too. They hover so. But I won't do anything for you though ( stick out tongue).
I mean moi goes weak in the muscles like that and you won't want him to drop his weights on your toes now, do you? Or on your wherever? And I am scared too. All those incredible hulks could just come up to me and drop their shorts at a moment's notice and ask moi to do "unmentionables". I can't take too big a bratwurst ok. I would oblige if you ask politely though. *Wink. So who is the austitic one here?
I want TLC, not rough harsh words or anything. I need love. Not hate. I want peace, not war. Do you understand? Good. Drop your shorts, NOW! I oblige.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Life Is Made Of This
That day must have been THE most harrowing of all of moi's travelogues. I mean it looked like this: LRT-MRT-Bus-MRT-Bus. And this just to whip meself in great shape so that when moi and his beau have sex, we embrace in an eternal wedlock of orgasmic spasm, finally collapsing in a pool of semen. *Winks.
Yes I am still beauless. I cry my stiff erection to sleep every single lonely night on me queen size bed. In between sobs, I manage to text the heartless brute who dumped me on the pretext of being busy. How busy can he be? I mean he just got back from trips to Bangkok and Taipei, reputedly sex capitals of the world. If he were really that busy, he would be home having sex with his dog. Wouldn't he? A dog makes good sex, no?
I am pumping iron every single day of my life now. It gives me the "high" in place of my running high at the central catchment reserve. Of course, the other "high"light would be the hunks. And there were so many many many of them, I have lost count. My only ray of hope of getting close to them was to get into the changing room and watch their "manhood" bulge in all the right places. Oolala. Exotic salami in all kinds of shapes, sizes and lengths. *Double winks.
I am so tired of striking up any conversation or relationship anymore and risk me pride being wounded. Ok? So I am now in this mode of keeping mute and let me eyes do the talking instead. Perhaps for once the Yellow Pages ad tagline is true. The fingers can do the walking soon after that. *Smiles.
Look at this gem of a gymasium I discovered. It is huge. It has an electronic deposit and retrieval locker system (even though it means you have to remember your password and locker number). It is floored by not the usual carpet or astro-turf but some colorful jigsaw rubber mats. And the equipment are first-class (though I wish the triceps extension were the from behind kind and not the front push thingy coz I like to take the bull by the horns from behind? *Wink wink)
The bay windows overlook the pool on one side and the futsal field on the other. In fact a few of the newer gyms have bay windows looking out to the pool or some greenery. Unlike the bunker I worked out in once upon a time. Some of the newer stadia are really shaped beautifully and huge too. There is even glassed-up viewing galleries with one stadium's gallery overlooking the field and sports hall at each end. The sports hall is a gymnastics playground on one side and a badminton haunt on the other. This would, in a blink, be a basketball court. Cool configuration.
Because of the lack of sporting facilities and the costly and tiring journey moi has to undertake now just to be a hunk, moi was scouting for a new place. WHOA! This place I visited was swarming with Chinese national prostitutes, right smack in the middle of the road plying their trade. The four towers were not Block 1, 2, 3 or 4 but Block 10, 18,26 and 34. Make sure you did well for the topic on number patterns back in secondary school maths. Two units even have back doors, literally.
Life has become quite a bore now and as I don wanna be thinking myself silly or noticing too many things, I decided to be a zombie, just like back in the old days. Remember that character with oversized spectacles staring dazedly straight ahead in "Mysterious Skin", the R21 flick. I became that. And I will be that for some time until something exciting pop up.
Like I have a beau. A son. A house to live in. A car. Money to retire NOW. Teach in an all-boys school. Dota. Rock climb. Cycle. Kayak. Camp. In-line skate. Swim. Basketball. And maybe more.
Hey dudes, I am feeling really really really lonely at night. Think you could spare some warmth and huddle? I need a hard bod and a hard ****. *Ogle. Gasp. Oolala. Wateva.
Yes I am still beauless. I cry my stiff erection to sleep every single lonely night on me queen size bed. In between sobs, I manage to text the heartless brute who dumped me on the pretext of being busy. How busy can he be? I mean he just got back from trips to Bangkok and Taipei, reputedly sex capitals of the world. If he were really that busy, he would be home having sex with his dog. Wouldn't he? A dog makes good sex, no?
I am pumping iron every single day of my life now. It gives me the "high" in place of my running high at the central catchment reserve. Of course, the other "high"light would be the hunks. And there were so many many many of them, I have lost count. My only ray of hope of getting close to them was to get into the changing room and watch their "manhood" bulge in all the right places. Oolala. Exotic salami in all kinds of shapes, sizes and lengths. *Double winks.
I am so tired of striking up any conversation or relationship anymore and risk me pride being wounded. Ok? So I am now in this mode of keeping mute and let me eyes do the talking instead. Perhaps for once the Yellow Pages ad tagline is true. The fingers can do the walking soon after that. *Smiles.
Look at this gem of a gymasium I discovered. It is huge. It has an electronic deposit and retrieval locker system (even though it means you have to remember your password and locker number). It is floored by not the usual carpet or astro-turf but some colorful jigsaw rubber mats. And the equipment are first-class (though I wish the triceps extension were the from behind kind and not the front push thingy coz I like to take the bull by the horns from behind? *Wink wink)
The bay windows overlook the pool on one side and the futsal field on the other. In fact a few of the newer gyms have bay windows looking out to the pool or some greenery. Unlike the bunker I worked out in once upon a time. Some of the newer stadia are really shaped beautifully and huge too. There is even glassed-up viewing galleries with one stadium's gallery overlooking the field and sports hall at each end. The sports hall is a gymnastics playground on one side and a badminton haunt on the other. This would, in a blink, be a basketball court. Cool configuration.
Because of the lack of sporting facilities and the costly and tiring journey moi has to undertake now just to be a hunk, moi was scouting for a new place. WHOA! This place I visited was swarming with Chinese national prostitutes, right smack in the middle of the road plying their trade. The four towers were not Block 1, 2, 3 or 4 but Block 10, 18,26 and 34. Make sure you did well for the topic on number patterns back in secondary school maths. Two units even have back doors, literally.
Life has become quite a bore now and as I don wanna be thinking myself silly or noticing too many things, I decided to be a zombie, just like back in the old days. Remember that character with oversized spectacles staring dazedly straight ahead in "Mysterious Skin", the R21 flick. I became that. And I will be that for some time until something exciting pop up.
Like I have a beau. A son. A house to live in. A car. Money to retire NOW. Teach in an all-boys school. Dota. Rock climb. Cycle. Kayak. Camp. In-line skate. Swim. Basketball. And maybe more.
Hey dudes, I am feeling really really really lonely at night. Think you could spare some warmth and huddle? I need a hard bod and a hard ****. *Ogle. Gasp. Oolala. Wateva.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Kids Are A Barrel Of Laughs - Sometimes
I recalled during the CNY period , when I had wandered into town, the day I met Luke and his cousin at the Orchard Hotel. I also discovered an international watering hole there and SUBWAY sandwiches are certainly American portions and a world apart from run-of-the-mill junk food in terms of taste and quality. In fact all the eateries there serve Asian and American cuisnes. I got to eat satay too.
Luke and his cousin and their sisters were racing one another, tearing up and down the hotel lobby, getting into elevators, riding the escalators and so on, typical of kids left on their own while their parents were inside the pub. If you must know, the pub has patrons as faraway as South Africa.
When Luke's cousin tripped and hurt himself, it was a different thing altogether. He was sobbing in the washroom while Luke tried to comfort him and wash his "wound". It was quite a scene with Luke's cousin alleging Luke to have caused him to fall and not wanting his "wound" to get any worse.
Upon my suggestion to have the "wound" plastered, Luke's cousin flatly refused, citing : "But I don't want a plaster!". Luke then supported his little cousin, saying that it was better to air the "wound" to have it healed. These English kids were something else.
Just not too long ago, two Australian Chinese kids boarded the LRT with their grandparents. They caught my eye with their good looks (the usual Asian-American mixed kind) and the distinct Oz twang they spoke. I was taken aback by their razor sharp observations too.
Oz Kiddo 1: "Hey isn't that the driver of the train?" (pointing to commuter standing at the front, peering out the window, quite obviously pulling his brother's legs)
Oz Kiddo 2: "That isn't the driver. He is a passenger. And "po-po" did ask you to hold on to the railings and not spin around."
With smart, vocal kids like that, who wouldn't wanna be a father? Shouldn't I be somewhere in a local municipal office signing adoption papers as a single parent? You tell me folks.
Luke and his cousin and their sisters were racing one another, tearing up and down the hotel lobby, getting into elevators, riding the escalators and so on, typical of kids left on their own while their parents were inside the pub. If you must know, the pub has patrons as faraway as South Africa.
When Luke's cousin tripped and hurt himself, it was a different thing altogether. He was sobbing in the washroom while Luke tried to comfort him and wash his "wound". It was quite a scene with Luke's cousin alleging Luke to have caused him to fall and not wanting his "wound" to get any worse.
Upon my suggestion to have the "wound" plastered, Luke's cousin flatly refused, citing : "But I don't want a plaster!". Luke then supported his little cousin, saying that it was better to air the "wound" to have it healed. These English kids were something else.
Just not too long ago, two Australian Chinese kids boarded the LRT with their grandparents. They caught my eye with their good looks (the usual Asian-American mixed kind) and the distinct Oz twang they spoke. I was taken aback by their razor sharp observations too.
Oz Kiddo 1: "Hey isn't that the driver of the train?" (pointing to commuter standing at the front, peering out the window, quite obviously pulling his brother's legs)
Oz Kiddo 2: "That isn't the driver. He is a passenger. And "po-po" did ask you to hold on to the railings and not spin around."
With smart, vocal kids like that, who wouldn't wanna be a father? Shouldn't I be somewhere in a local municipal office signing adoption papers as a single parent? You tell me folks.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Will My Prayer Be Answered?
Just so you have a feel of how really really really inconvenient transport is, this is how transfers look like: lrt-mrt-bus-bus. And this is only one-way enroute to my destination. There is a free shuttle to a mrt station which somehow doesn't wanna pick me up even though I distinctly saw a senior citizen boarding one.
GEEEZ. This place is ulu. It is a "family" place with married couples and their kids. Or just couples. PUI.
It is also densely congested at the train stations, almost always jam-packed. It was like not too long ago when I rode the NEL that it was a leisurely and quiet affair. Not anymore. I think the bus rides at my former location are so much emptier and pleasurable.
Speaking of which, I sorely miss the "famous" roti prata stall where I sit walloping assorted-flavor roti pratas while sipping teh tarik, the walks and runs at the reserve (although I am sure the terrain isn't gonna be kind to my knees, foot and back in the long run), the sports, the LAN shop/s, the mall, the eateries and yes the canoe hunks. And the quietitude of the place where I stay. The buses that go everywhere except the east.
So it is true. I trained really hard today and I have no problems with me back or whatever. Seems like if I am on the go , I don't feel pain. Maybe I am a cyborg?
I am making the rounds of all the gyms and WOW, the gym equipment are all so different and they work your muscles really well. Of course, the hunks are different too. *Ogle. And the girls. EWWWW (1000x). Grotesque!
I wasn't myself yesterday. I must be under a lot of strain physically and emotionally. And the strain shows up on my face. I was frowning and couldn't smile as much. Especially since I am still without a beau!!! SOB (100x). So when this guy boarded the train with his gf and his work bag kept poking into my rumps, I really wanted to caution him to steer clear of my personal butt space.
ME: Hey buddy! That is my butt hole your bag is poking into! What do you think you are trying to do? Dig a burrow for beavers?
I think I need help. I am lovelorn. I need a MAN (or boy). I just wanna hold him tight especially when I am alone in my room at night. Feel his masculine hard bod. Hear him breathe. Feel his erection and mine. Curl my legs around him. Smooch. Connect bodily and emotionally.
O lord, I am oh so horny for a guy! So help me please!
GEEEZ. This place is ulu. It is a "family" place with married couples and their kids. Or just couples. PUI.
It is also densely congested at the train stations, almost always jam-packed. It was like not too long ago when I rode the NEL that it was a leisurely and quiet affair. Not anymore. I think the bus rides at my former location are so much emptier and pleasurable.
Speaking of which, I sorely miss the "famous" roti prata stall where I sit walloping assorted-flavor roti pratas while sipping teh tarik, the walks and runs at the reserve (although I am sure the terrain isn't gonna be kind to my knees, foot and back in the long run), the sports, the LAN shop/s, the mall, the eateries and yes the canoe hunks. And the quietitude of the place where I stay. The buses that go everywhere except the east.
So it is true. I trained really hard today and I have no problems with me back or whatever. Seems like if I am on the go , I don't feel pain. Maybe I am a cyborg?
I am making the rounds of all the gyms and WOW, the gym equipment are all so different and they work your muscles really well. Of course, the hunks are different too. *Ogle. And the girls. EWWWW (1000x). Grotesque!
I wasn't myself yesterday. I must be under a lot of strain physically and emotionally. And the strain shows up on my face. I was frowning and couldn't smile as much. Especially since I am still without a beau!!! SOB (100x). So when this guy boarded the train with his gf and his work bag kept poking into my rumps, I really wanted to caution him to steer clear of my personal butt space.
ME: Hey buddy! That is my butt hole your bag is poking into! What do you think you are trying to do? Dig a burrow for beavers?
I think I need help. I am lovelorn. I need a MAN (or boy). I just wanna hold him tight especially when I am alone in my room at night. Feel his masculine hard bod. Hear him breathe. Feel his erection and mine. Curl my legs around him. Smooch. Connect bodily and emotionally.
O lord, I am oh so horny for a guy! So help me please!
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Whatever
This part of Singapore is way off the central location. Getting anywhere is a hassling, tiresome and long journey. It has no sporting facility whatsoever. It has beautiful waters off its coastline though which now lays to waste as it awaits its 15-year upgrading plan. Seemingly it will be made a water-sports hotspot. But in the meantime, I have to find my way to do my sport thingy elsewhere. Inconvenient to say the least.
But I can call my abode "home". So I stay in some part of the time, lounging around, relishing the air-conditioner and watching some TV. The bed is really comfy. At long last to rest my tired back.
Somehow, I can't seem to pick up running on the tracks. I am kinda slow and the kick is gone. It could be I am so used to the uphill and downhill slopes, the rocky terrain, the steps and so on. I am just beginning to adjust and I intend to do my 1-hour on this. But I must admit I have given meself a good rest and I should be able to re-train again, just as well if not better than the last time.
All that running and gymming have strained moi. I know it because every part of me sinew, muscle and bone is aching. The more I rest at home, the worse it seems. So I must really get back on track.
My gymming is really picking up. I can't believe I am bulging in the right places. Oh yes, the hunks of course, particuarly this dude whom I recognise. He is alone. So is he attached or isn't he? I will find out.
I think I should try out living in various parts of Singapore just to sample life.
The GE is over. I was expecting the opposition to win at least a few more seats among the SMCs and the GRCs. This wasn't to be. But the percentage vote does say something about how absolute a win is. Just look at Aljunied GRC or even in some of the other GRCs and SMCs.
There are just these few comments I wanna make. First, no offence meant, most of the new PAP candidates do seem to be of a certain mould like all their predecessors. They talk in about the same manner and seem devoid of any real feelings and emotions. Worse, like their predecessors, many of their arguments I can't buy in. Staid and programmed. Standard replies without much thinking. A wind-up, repeating groove, stuff toy like the Koala bear in "The Wild" perhaps? Second, besides upgrading issues, I think there are a thousand and one other issues that the party has not even begun to broach. A whole spectrum of social, economic and political issues to address and put right.
I hope with the GE over, domestic , regional and international issues will be aired and resolved.
But I can call my abode "home". So I stay in some part of the time, lounging around, relishing the air-conditioner and watching some TV. The bed is really comfy. At long last to rest my tired back.
Somehow, I can't seem to pick up running on the tracks. I am kinda slow and the kick is gone. It could be I am so used to the uphill and downhill slopes, the rocky terrain, the steps and so on. I am just beginning to adjust and I intend to do my 1-hour on this. But I must admit I have given meself a good rest and I should be able to re-train again, just as well if not better than the last time.
All that running and gymming have strained moi. I know it because every part of me sinew, muscle and bone is aching. The more I rest at home, the worse it seems. So I must really get back on track.
My gymming is really picking up. I can't believe I am bulging in the right places. Oh yes, the hunks of course, particuarly this dude whom I recognise. He is alone. So is he attached or isn't he? I will find out.
I think I should try out living in various parts of Singapore just to sample life.
The GE is over. I was expecting the opposition to win at least a few more seats among the SMCs and the GRCs. This wasn't to be. But the percentage vote does say something about how absolute a win is. Just look at Aljunied GRC or even in some of the other GRCs and SMCs.
There are just these few comments I wanna make. First, no offence meant, most of the new PAP candidates do seem to be of a certain mould like all their predecessors. They talk in about the same manner and seem devoid of any real feelings and emotions. Worse, like their predecessors, many of their arguments I can't buy in. Staid and programmed. Standard replies without much thinking. A wind-up, repeating groove, stuff toy like the Koala bear in "The Wild" perhaps? Second, besides upgrading issues, I think there are a thousand and one other issues that the party has not even begun to broach. A whole spectrum of social, economic and political issues to address and put right.
I hope with the GE over, domestic , regional and international issues will be aired and resolved.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Night Out, Moving Again And The Hustings
It was a night out to a gay club. I got a Filipino dude for company. We got there early and he left early for whatever reasons. After not replying to a couple of my texts, I decided my first night out at a gay club shouldn't be ruined. A Malaysian dude sat next to me and we chatted but he wouldn't want to exchange numbers and we can't exactly chat in a club with loud music going on. Thinking we could dance where we were, I was so dead wrong as dancing can only be had on the dance floor - not exactly the National Stadium floor space. So I decided I should just enjoy my night out, with or without company. And dance I did. The beats were pulsating and rock. I dance whatever I felt to be appropriate to the tempo. Limbs wailing, hips gyrating and head swirling, IT WAS SUCH AN ENJOYABLE NIGHT!!! Some guys were shirtless , some held their partners' hands, they hugged and smooched. It was beautiful!!! I wanted to move away but the music only got rockier and I stayed on till 3am before calling it a night. A young dude was trailing behind me in my efforts to flag down a cab but one drove right out from a back lane and he hopped on to it. WHAT A SHITASS! We could have been acquainted.
On the eve of May Day, I slept in. Mr Psycho stayed on with me. As I was about to go out and grab dinner, he actually asked me to move by midnight. After some yelling and vulgarities hurled his way, I went out to get dinner anyway and decided to garner some support for the hideous crime he committed against moi with the bed bugs thingy. So I got round to talking to the neighbours and the CC's staff. I was glad some were really supportive and understanding.
I managed to get a room in the nick of time. After the stroke of midnight (ala Cinderella), I packed my stuff, let Meowy go (I am so sorry but his eye is healing quite well and he is strong enough) and left for my new home. I was glad Daniel actually came down in the middle of the night to help me with the baggage. In return, I mopped up his place and wiped the tables. I bought a toilet brush to scrub the toilet bowl, biscuits, table wipes, sold his old newspapers for him, got a free printer from the rags-and-bones man, just to show my appreciation.
And it was two very restful days. I finally got to sleep on a proper bed with a proper clean mattress and my back really needed that, after all that sleeping on the floor and so on. The place is in really superb condition. And to reward myself, I actually offered to pay for the utilities (so I can watch TV -especially the hustings - and enjoy the air-conditioner).
Now James Gomez is my junior in my secondary school. I remember him as a scrawny kinda fella, very quiet as far as I can remember , those big doley eyes and tight school uniform shorts. I have never expected to see him give such a powerful and stirring speech. How people change. So don't ever ignore who you think is that stupid ass or that quiet fella sitting in the corner. He is probably someone deep in thoughts and watching everyone else. What they do - is it right or wrong, etc. The other candidate who impressed me was this Kumar lady from the SDA, I think. She was very eloquent.
Well I am gonna be glued to the hustings, I am not sure about you.
On the eve of May Day, I slept in. Mr Psycho stayed on with me. As I was about to go out and grab dinner, he actually asked me to move by midnight. After some yelling and vulgarities hurled his way, I went out to get dinner anyway and decided to garner some support for the hideous crime he committed against moi with the bed bugs thingy. So I got round to talking to the neighbours and the CC's staff. I was glad some were really supportive and understanding.
I managed to get a room in the nick of time. After the stroke of midnight (ala Cinderella), I packed my stuff, let Meowy go (I am so sorry but his eye is healing quite well and he is strong enough) and left for my new home. I was glad Daniel actually came down in the middle of the night to help me with the baggage. In return, I mopped up his place and wiped the tables. I bought a toilet brush to scrub the toilet bowl, biscuits, table wipes, sold his old newspapers for him, got a free printer from the rags-and-bones man, just to show my appreciation.
And it was two very restful days. I finally got to sleep on a proper bed with a proper clean mattress and my back really needed that, after all that sleeping on the floor and so on. The place is in really superb condition. And to reward myself, I actually offered to pay for the utilities (so I can watch TV -especially the hustings - and enjoy the air-conditioner).
Now James Gomez is my junior in my secondary school. I remember him as a scrawny kinda fella, very quiet as far as I can remember , those big doley eyes and tight school uniform shorts. I have never expected to see him give such a powerful and stirring speech. How people change. So don't ever ignore who you think is that stupid ass or that quiet fella sitting in the corner. He is probably someone deep in thoughts and watching everyone else. What they do - is it right or wrong, etc. The other candidate who impressed me was this Kumar lady from the SDA, I think. She was very eloquent.
Well I am gonna be glued to the hustings, I am not sure about you.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
This Is Indeed The End Of Mankind - The Kingdom Of Evildom
I am really angry at meself for allowing meself to be compromised like this for a two whole months, lying right next to bed bugs. I should have heeded the few I spotted already and thrown the darn thing away. This shows how inhuman Mr Psycho is. I am going to move, that is for sure.
Like with all the employers I had. For example Mr He-Ape and his family members. You can smell evil whenever you come across it. It was an economic imperative over human rights and human conditions. And I spotted a rat at the men's club too.
Religion to this family isn't about praying for goodwill, peace and humanity. It is more likely to be praying for riches. That is what religion has been reduced to in most cases anyway. Isn't a visit to a temple or church about asking for divine help in businesses or striking the lottery?
I am seriously thinking that I cannot have someone who had a traumatic childhood, indigent and so on. I need someone who has had a good and loving family environment. I am not sure what lurks or is left behind in kids who were abused in one way or another. Mr Psycho is obviously one example. Resident Evil. I will not be anywhere near him.
I keep bumping into evil. All these people are shitasses. Gay men who marry. Gay men who don't. Women, single or married. The whole fucking lot. This will be what "civilisation" has wrought upon us.
I did not exactly had a good family life either. Watching violence at home with mom, bro and my mute sister. I wetted the bed which shows how insecure I was. You must understand why I have to leave home and cut off all ties and to start my own life with someone else. This is important to me. Listening to all the bad advice, gripes and ill intentions on all quarters.
Now if sister cannot see it for herself, I wonder who can. My first brother-in-law was obviously gay. I just know it . He just had to marry to conform to his family's wishes and to have a wife to look after the farm in Malaysia. The marriage was never consummated. So sis became sorta of a maid-servant.
Speaking of maids, I see plenty here around the estate. They congregate to commiserate. I personally acknowledge one of them and whenever I ask how she is, I can tell from her expression that all isn't well.
I will have nothing to do with any immigrant, especially Chinese National women. Nor those Chinese National tenants I have had. Kids from rich families whose fathers want them to live independently and some are just forced here to fend for themselves. Whip, whack and smack all their lives - the Chinese way of disciplining (for really bad cases, maybe it might work once in a while but seriously mild cases can be dealt with in a better way). Girls who are here for other reasons. China men with the "traditional" thinking.
I have enough problems of my own and I just wanna lead a stable and loving life my way with my loved ones. That is all. Period.
A little about the upcoming GE. My Gosh! It is a walkover at my constituency! That means I don't get to vote.....again! And wait did MM Lee say the opposition were street fighters, hooligans, etc, etc and to be treated thus. Now I thought he was a bit of a thug too, according to the old colonial masters.
And wait, was the panel discussion members rude to him? I did not watch the telecast. But how about JBJ or the pilot who were quizzed and pounced on by so many of his gang . Is that fair or just plain bullying? So many against one? Remember the baptism of fire? Or the round table firing where the few pilots face an overwhelming majority?
And you wanna call this home when groups of us are oppressed. Gays for example. How different are we from anyone? When you prick us, do we not bleed? When you hurt us, do we not cry? (Merchant of venice)
Just like Mr Psycho. He is such a sissy fart, can't handle things and asks for reinforcement from friends and family. If he wants to turn around and say I did the same with this China boy tenant, I had to call in my sis and bro because he was hitting himself on the head. And he is highly suspect too coming from the same commercial school of a previous China boy tenant (remember M/s Wicked Stepmother and Daryl Chan).
And wait people are not animals or things to be "handled". They are individuals with feelings, thoughts and so on who may let you "handle" them for a while but if they know they have been had, I don't think this will go on. Remember he will temporarily let you "handle" him but he will strike back the moment he can. So much for "handling".
It is what you do. Treating fairly and justly that will win their trust and confidence. They will know sooner than later what your intentions are - good or bad. All dynasties come to an end. Please remember that too.
And I did mention about the mirroring technique when handling particularly bad or mild "disciplinary" problems among students. Like now at the LAN shop, I turn on the volume loud most of the time, so students get a taste of their own bitter medicine, to the point some had requested me to tone down.
So please, educators, don't stand there, helpless, sobbing or whatever, fighting a person hardly out of his/her teens? Copy what they do so they can see what they are doing right or wrong. I like aping M/s Black Widow in particular, the way she examines her fingernails close-up and so on.
And please don't always pick on the boys. The girls are equally guilty. It does seem that teachers think all perpetrators of "crimes" are boys.
Like with all the employers I had. For example Mr He-Ape and his family members. You can smell evil whenever you come across it. It was an economic imperative over human rights and human conditions. And I spotted a rat at the men's club too.
Religion to this family isn't about praying for goodwill, peace and humanity. It is more likely to be praying for riches. That is what religion has been reduced to in most cases anyway. Isn't a visit to a temple or church about asking for divine help in businesses or striking the lottery?
I am seriously thinking that I cannot have someone who had a traumatic childhood, indigent and so on. I need someone who has had a good and loving family environment. I am not sure what lurks or is left behind in kids who were abused in one way or another. Mr Psycho is obviously one example. Resident Evil. I will not be anywhere near him.
I keep bumping into evil. All these people are shitasses. Gay men who marry. Gay men who don't. Women, single or married. The whole fucking lot. This will be what "civilisation" has wrought upon us.
I did not exactly had a good family life either. Watching violence at home with mom, bro and my mute sister. I wetted the bed which shows how insecure I was. You must understand why I have to leave home and cut off all ties and to start my own life with someone else. This is important to me. Listening to all the bad advice, gripes and ill intentions on all quarters.
Now if sister cannot see it for herself, I wonder who can. My first brother-in-law was obviously gay. I just know it . He just had to marry to conform to his family's wishes and to have a wife to look after the farm in Malaysia. The marriage was never consummated. So sis became sorta of a maid-servant.
Speaking of maids, I see plenty here around the estate. They congregate to commiserate. I personally acknowledge one of them and whenever I ask how she is, I can tell from her expression that all isn't well.
I will have nothing to do with any immigrant, especially Chinese National women. Nor those Chinese National tenants I have had. Kids from rich families whose fathers want them to live independently and some are just forced here to fend for themselves. Whip, whack and smack all their lives - the Chinese way of disciplining (for really bad cases, maybe it might work once in a while but seriously mild cases can be dealt with in a better way). Girls who are here for other reasons. China men with the "traditional" thinking.
I have enough problems of my own and I just wanna lead a stable and loving life my way with my loved ones. That is all. Period.
A little about the upcoming GE. My Gosh! It is a walkover at my constituency! That means I don't get to vote.....again! And wait did MM Lee say the opposition were street fighters, hooligans, etc, etc and to be treated thus. Now I thought he was a bit of a thug too, according to the old colonial masters.
And wait, was the panel discussion members rude to him? I did not watch the telecast. But how about JBJ or the pilot who were quizzed and pounced on by so many of his gang . Is that fair or just plain bullying? So many against one? Remember the baptism of fire? Or the round table firing where the few pilots face an overwhelming majority?
And you wanna call this home when groups of us are oppressed. Gays for example. How different are we from anyone? When you prick us, do we not bleed? When you hurt us, do we not cry? (Merchant of venice)
Just like Mr Psycho. He is such a sissy fart, can't handle things and asks for reinforcement from friends and family. If he wants to turn around and say I did the same with this China boy tenant, I had to call in my sis and bro because he was hitting himself on the head. And he is highly suspect too coming from the same commercial school of a previous China boy tenant (remember M/s Wicked Stepmother and Daryl Chan).
And wait people are not animals or things to be "handled". They are individuals with feelings, thoughts and so on who may let you "handle" them for a while but if they know they have been had, I don't think this will go on. Remember he will temporarily let you "handle" him but he will strike back the moment he can. So much for "handling".
It is what you do. Treating fairly and justly that will win their trust and confidence. They will know sooner than later what your intentions are - good or bad. All dynasties come to an end. Please remember that too.
And I did mention about the mirroring technique when handling particularly bad or mild "disciplinary" problems among students. Like now at the LAN shop, I turn on the volume loud most of the time, so students get a taste of their own bitter medicine, to the point some had requested me to tone down.
So please, educators, don't stand there, helpless, sobbing or whatever, fighting a person hardly out of his/her teens? Copy what they do so they can see what they are doing right or wrong. I like aping M/s Black Widow in particular, the way she examines her fingernails close-up and so on.
And please don't always pick on the boys. The girls are equally guilty. It does seem that teachers think all perpetrators of "crimes" are boys.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
I Bite - Steer Clear
This is the last straw. Meowy shitted on me mattress. This wasn't it. It was then while cleaning out the old fucking mattress that I discovered that it was shitass anyway and at all corners of the mattress were actually hidden the bed bugs, black and white ones, and so many. I immediately took it out to the verandah, intending to sun it but it rained and so it shall remain hung there. PUI! (100x). Well yeah, I socked it to Mr Psycho about this.
I have itched particularly bad the last couple of days and I have no intention of ruining my smooth bod. As it is, I am scratching myself mad, leaving all these red warts on my arms.
Look I am not exactly in a very good mood. I bite. So don't get me irritated. I have already mentioned this loveless life and now this. And the whole fucking bunch of gays I meet at places I lease (I already hate women so what do you expect if I meet women men again)
This reminds me of my sister who had the same problem before with her bed mattress. I can't help wondering if she had then brought this over for my use when I wanted to lease my room. And I do remember thinking how stupid she must have been, putting up with all she had with my second brother-ln-law, first in a rented room and then in a 3 roomer. All the thanks she got was his philandering ways and I distinctly remember accompanying her to the doctor one day where she was diagnosed with genital herpes (now who else could have transmitted this to her?).
Women, I am so sorry, you have yourselves to blame. First seducing others and then having yours seduced in the same way. I just have to speak with a few and men (more women men - wimps) to know who are the evil ones with evil thoughts and intentions. Just like Mr Pyshco. That tenant couple, who is his friend, came in, create a din, mess up the washroom and just yesterday, moved out. This is his way to spite me.
The same can be said of gays too. The slutty whore types who yearn for a fuck (now what is this enjoyment unless it is for your ONE AND ONLY?). In case you wonder if anything ever happened to me in the men's club, all I can say is I had only two thingies happening to me. That was all. I don't think I had such magnetic sexual attractive powers ok?
And I can't really forgive this prodigal sister of mine (don't always think of prodigal sons, people, that is stereotyping) and my mom for advising me to wash off my pimples with rice grains and water. This must be an utter misplacement of my trust in family.
Mr Psycho potters around the "garden" and digs a trench which is filled with water during this very wet monsoon season and this cesspool attracts mosquitoes.
Remember what I said about discovering things for yourself and not allowing anyone to color or influence you in anyway. Well, it was the same thing with the canoe excursion I had too. I mean with my knees bent and legs outstretched, I wasn't exactly comfortable. This, together with my carrying of the canoe, must have aggravated my lower back because I had this really bad pain over the next few days. When I crossed my legs, ah, that was really comfy.
As for the mountain bike, not only was that shop offering theirs at a ridiculously exorbitant price, the retailer wasn't exactly helpful or friendly. Definitely not buying from this shop. I will take my money where I can be assured of better support.
Even in the education system, sadists abound. Just speak with a couple of students and they will relate stories of evil deeds pepetrated by teachers. Like the pinching nipples one. (suppose we reverse this and allow male teachers to do the same with female students - how's that?).
Or those teachers who wanna "build character". I suggest we build theirs first, imbibed them with more concern, compassion and care for their really needy charges. Of course the "bad apples" can be dealt with in the usual way but are they really bad apples (as in vindictive) or just plain mischievous, fun-loving and so on at this age? Can we differentiate the two?
Speaking with educators, mostly women and some men ( the women men really), I realise this since Day 1.It is really the teachers who are vindictive who wanna hit back for one reason or another, perhaps this stemming from their own unhappiness with the management, unable to cope with their daily living as with kids, etc (all the way to the top).
They do seem sadistic, standing by and allowing the students to suffer for no real good reason. I think people remember one kind act better than they do a hundred punitive punishment.
And do not second guess what I am thinking or feeling. Hear it from the horse's mouth instead, ok.
I have itched particularly bad the last couple of days and I have no intention of ruining my smooth bod. As it is, I am scratching myself mad, leaving all these red warts on my arms.
Look I am not exactly in a very good mood. I bite. So don't get me irritated. I have already mentioned this loveless life and now this. And the whole fucking bunch of gays I meet at places I lease (I already hate women so what do you expect if I meet women men again)
This reminds me of my sister who had the same problem before with her bed mattress. I can't help wondering if she had then brought this over for my use when I wanted to lease my room. And I do remember thinking how stupid she must have been, putting up with all she had with my second brother-ln-law, first in a rented room and then in a 3 roomer. All the thanks she got was his philandering ways and I distinctly remember accompanying her to the doctor one day where she was diagnosed with genital herpes (now who else could have transmitted this to her?).
Women, I am so sorry, you have yourselves to blame. First seducing others and then having yours seduced in the same way. I just have to speak with a few and men (more women men - wimps) to know who are the evil ones with evil thoughts and intentions. Just like Mr Pyshco. That tenant couple, who is his friend, came in, create a din, mess up the washroom and just yesterday, moved out. This is his way to spite me.
The same can be said of gays too. The slutty whore types who yearn for a fuck (now what is this enjoyment unless it is for your ONE AND ONLY?). In case you wonder if anything ever happened to me in the men's club, all I can say is I had only two thingies happening to me. That was all. I don't think I had such magnetic sexual attractive powers ok?
And I can't really forgive this prodigal sister of mine (don't always think of prodigal sons, people, that is stereotyping) and my mom for advising me to wash off my pimples with rice grains and water. This must be an utter misplacement of my trust in family.
Mr Psycho potters around the "garden" and digs a trench which is filled with water during this very wet monsoon season and this cesspool attracts mosquitoes.
Remember what I said about discovering things for yourself and not allowing anyone to color or influence you in anyway. Well, it was the same thing with the canoe excursion I had too. I mean with my knees bent and legs outstretched, I wasn't exactly comfortable. This, together with my carrying of the canoe, must have aggravated my lower back because I had this really bad pain over the next few days. When I crossed my legs, ah, that was really comfy.
As for the mountain bike, not only was that shop offering theirs at a ridiculously exorbitant price, the retailer wasn't exactly helpful or friendly. Definitely not buying from this shop. I will take my money where I can be assured of better support.
Even in the education system, sadists abound. Just speak with a couple of students and they will relate stories of evil deeds pepetrated by teachers. Like the pinching nipples one. (suppose we reverse this and allow male teachers to do the same with female students - how's that?).
Or those teachers who wanna "build character". I suggest we build theirs first, imbibed them with more concern, compassion and care for their really needy charges. Of course the "bad apples" can be dealt with in the usual way but are they really bad apples (as in vindictive) or just plain mischievous, fun-loving and so on at this age? Can we differentiate the two?
Speaking with educators, mostly women and some men ( the women men really), I realise this since Day 1.It is really the teachers who are vindictive who wanna hit back for one reason or another, perhaps this stemming from their own unhappiness with the management, unable to cope with their daily living as with kids, etc (all the way to the top).
They do seem sadistic, standing by and allowing the students to suffer for no real good reason. I think people remember one kind act better than they do a hundred punitive punishment.
And do not second guess what I am thinking or feeling. Hear it from the horse's mouth instead, ok.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
The Last Mohican
I thought Meowy had been thoroughly toilet-trained to shit and pee on the newsheet but there were occasions he (she - well the vet says it is most likely a "she" but I am hoping it is a "he" as male cats don't caterwaul on heat) forgot. So the bed-spread had to be washed in the machine tub.
I admit to being really depressed on Monday morning after a night out at the men's club. I have been there several times already and I have yet to start up a decent anything with anyone.
It was too much a flesh thingy with little consideration for striking up a relationship. There were too many patrons and it was all pure physical attraction, sex and getting off. I will still visit but this time I will sit at the cafe, fully clothed, and chat with whoever is keen.
So Monday and even on Tuesday morning (though I did run part of the way), I went out for a walk instead of running at the reserve (I was also listening to my body as it must have been worked to death the past couple of days).
I was rewarded with hunks, no less. A whole big group who must have finished their dragon boat stuff, and appeared from nowhere. I must say I couldn't ogle as much, hung over as it is from Sunday night (by the way it wasn't even past eleven). A few I recognised as having seen them at Kallang.
A running couple ran the 4.8km course and I suspect they were living together because no guy would pass another his cell phone, his tee and ride in the same car driven by one. They made a sexy and hunky match. I spotted another couple studying at a fast-food joint and they shared drinks. It was a lovely sight to behold and envy. It made me sad too. Why can't I have the same good fortune as they do?
I can't really tackle couples or groups. I am not sure if they are together or just friends. If it was one lone ranger, I could. Then again I won't be sure of his orientation. In a group or duplet coupling, I could probably guess this straight away. I may not have sufficient courage, social skills, lame excuses and so on just to try and get a contact number.
While at the reserve, it was spent in quiet moments of thinking and dreaming. It is times like this that I wished I was with "him", holding hands, smooching, sharing a part or the whole of myself with him (communicatively or bodily) or in unison in sweaty exercise. Sex can come naturally if it has to.
I visited a shop to ask for the price of a mountain bike. It costs a couple of thousands!! WHOA! Don't think I wanna burn a hole in the pocket like that! I am dying to try out the sport as I have spotted groups of cyclists in my vicinity on a Sunday morning (through pure accident as I had to get free newsheet for Meowy) and I know of a few trails I would like to try out.
I am going to plan for rock-climbing, swimming, canoeing, hiking, camping, roller-blading, basketballing and bicycling in the weeks to come. And throw in a spot of clubbing to check out the scene , not regular for sure.
In fact tomorrow, I am gonna try out this breast-stroke and blading, if weather permit. Yes, I am gonna check out the ACS dudes again and see if they will relent this time. *Smiles. And yes the men's club. I am gonna try a different tack. *Smiles. Though I did sit out at the sarabat stall, downing cups of teh tarik and iced milo for a few hours, hoping to catch a few dudes but nobody took the cue. Instead all marched blindly to the club beat inside but not seeing outside. (Oh yes, the new tenants actually played music in their room quite similar to the club's music).
Not that I would have really wanted to join the club. After the new tenant moved in, I dread being in the room next to theirs, listening to them and coming home seeing them sitting on the couch watching television. PUI! If it were my house, I would do the same with my bf. So the club is a convenient hang-out till late when they are asleep (though this doesnt happen all the time).
I think I am really a very mono-gamous dude after all. At most three but no orgies for me. The men's club has clearly proven this. And I was never that attractive dude in school or in my youth. I was that fat, pimple-scarred, ugly toad who no-one ever noticed. I was never confident of my looks, my bod, myself or my all. I was shy and introverted. But I did dream of love, romance and settling down with a life partner. Someone who would be there for me and not when it is convenient.
I mentioned this to someone. I said do not let anyone tell you about things and have you thinking it is always like this. You should be the one who should still go out and find out for yourself. Only you can be the judge of what is and what isn't.
I am gonna make my love life happen now. If I can't I will die as the LAST MOHICAN defending what I know is best and satisfying for me. And if I can't teach (and I mean teach boys), then to the grave I take with me the GREATEST PASSION OF MY LIFE. So be it!
I admit to being really depressed on Monday morning after a night out at the men's club. I have been there several times already and I have yet to start up a decent anything with anyone.
It was too much a flesh thingy with little consideration for striking up a relationship. There were too many patrons and it was all pure physical attraction, sex and getting off. I will still visit but this time I will sit at the cafe, fully clothed, and chat with whoever is keen.
So Monday and even on Tuesday morning (though I did run part of the way), I went out for a walk instead of running at the reserve (I was also listening to my body as it must have been worked to death the past couple of days).
I was rewarded with hunks, no less. A whole big group who must have finished their dragon boat stuff, and appeared from nowhere. I must say I couldn't ogle as much, hung over as it is from Sunday night (by the way it wasn't even past eleven). A few I recognised as having seen them at Kallang.
A running couple ran the 4.8km course and I suspect they were living together because no guy would pass another his cell phone, his tee and ride in the same car driven by one. They made a sexy and hunky match. I spotted another couple studying at a fast-food joint and they shared drinks. It was a lovely sight to behold and envy. It made me sad too. Why can't I have the same good fortune as they do?
I can't really tackle couples or groups. I am not sure if they are together or just friends. If it was one lone ranger, I could. Then again I won't be sure of his orientation. In a group or duplet coupling, I could probably guess this straight away. I may not have sufficient courage, social skills, lame excuses and so on just to try and get a contact number.
While at the reserve, it was spent in quiet moments of thinking and dreaming. It is times like this that I wished I was with "him", holding hands, smooching, sharing a part or the whole of myself with him (communicatively or bodily) or in unison in sweaty exercise. Sex can come naturally if it has to.
I visited a shop to ask for the price of a mountain bike. It costs a couple of thousands!! WHOA! Don't think I wanna burn a hole in the pocket like that! I am dying to try out the sport as I have spotted groups of cyclists in my vicinity on a Sunday morning (through pure accident as I had to get free newsheet for Meowy) and I know of a few trails I would like to try out.
I am going to plan for rock-climbing, swimming, canoeing, hiking, camping, roller-blading, basketballing and bicycling in the weeks to come. And throw in a spot of clubbing to check out the scene , not regular for sure.
In fact tomorrow, I am gonna try out this breast-stroke and blading, if weather permit. Yes, I am gonna check out the ACS dudes again and see if they will relent this time. *Smiles. And yes the men's club. I am gonna try a different tack. *Smiles. Though I did sit out at the sarabat stall, downing cups of teh tarik and iced milo for a few hours, hoping to catch a few dudes but nobody took the cue. Instead all marched blindly to the club beat inside but not seeing outside. (Oh yes, the new tenants actually played music in their room quite similar to the club's music).
Not that I would have really wanted to join the club. After the new tenant moved in, I dread being in the room next to theirs, listening to them and coming home seeing them sitting on the couch watching television. PUI! If it were my house, I would do the same with my bf. So the club is a convenient hang-out till late when they are asleep (though this doesnt happen all the time).
I think I am really a very mono-gamous dude after all. At most three but no orgies for me. The men's club has clearly proven this. And I was never that attractive dude in school or in my youth. I was that fat, pimple-scarred, ugly toad who no-one ever noticed. I was never confident of my looks, my bod, myself or my all. I was shy and introverted. But I did dream of love, romance and settling down with a life partner. Someone who would be there for me and not when it is convenient.
I mentioned this to someone. I said do not let anyone tell you about things and have you thinking it is always like this. You should be the one who should still go out and find out for yourself. Only you can be the judge of what is and what isn't.
I am gonna make my love life happen now. If I can't I will die as the LAST MOHICAN defending what I know is best and satisfying for me. And if I can't teach (and I mean teach boys), then to the grave I take with me the GREATEST PASSION OF MY LIFE. So be it!
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Hunks Galore
Meowy is coming along just fine. It is eating very well, feeding itself on a diet of dry food. Its right eye remains closed though. I still remember that fateful afternoon I took it in. It was sneezing its wheezing lungs out. All those green gluey stuff splattered on me white polo tee. And I had to be on hand to feed it its medicament, which for one was four times daily . Its wakeful hours are naughty playtime.
I still remember that rainy day the canoe dudes were down for their school training. The SJI dudes were the first to arrive, followed by two HCI dudes. They were rain-dancing, obviously loving being drenched in the downpour. It was this kinda spirit and exuberance which mark out youthfulness, determination and unafraidness despite anything.
Though the ACS dude may have shatter my heart a bit, I still remain optimistic. He may have ignored me, laughed in my face or put me down, BUT I WILL NEVER GIVE UP. I WILL REMAIN GAY. It is your loss dude if you do not have me by your side to support you in every way I can.
Another day at the reserve and all those canoe dudes again. After all that I have been through, I hung my head down and averted my eyes , shying away from all those terrific looking dudes with their muscled torsos and limbs. I was too ashamed to be always looking and staring at them like that. But I promise I will be back, only to stare and look longer and harder. *Smiles.
OO. The gym is presenting me with new opportunities. I see new faces, muscled young ones too. One even came with his mom ( it seems).
I still remember that rainy day the canoe dudes were down for their school training. The SJI dudes were the first to arrive, followed by two HCI dudes. They were rain-dancing, obviously loving being drenched in the downpour. It was this kinda spirit and exuberance which mark out youthfulness, determination and unafraidness despite anything.
Though the ACS dude may have shatter my heart a bit, I still remain optimistic. He may have ignored me, laughed in my face or put me down, BUT I WILL NEVER GIVE UP. I WILL REMAIN GAY. It is your loss dude if you do not have me by your side to support you in every way I can.
Another day at the reserve and all those canoe dudes again. After all that I have been through, I hung my head down and averted my eyes , shying away from all those terrific looking dudes with their muscled torsos and limbs. I was too ashamed to be always looking and staring at them like that. But I promise I will be back, only to stare and look longer and harder. *Smiles.
OO. The gym is presenting me with new opportunities. I see new faces, muscled young ones too. One even came with his mom ( it seems).
Friday, April 21, 2006
I Am So Drained - Emotionally And Physically
Meowy ( that is its name for now, it could have been Psycho - now how many people would name their pet that after finding it under a mini? ) is surprisingly quite docile when I leave it at home. It is only hyper when I am home. It shitted on the free newsheet and I applauded it. It would come huddle close to me, purring and its phlegmatic sinisutis quite audible. It even nibbles my hair, my bod, my nips and my ears, nose too. WHOA! A really loving cat.
I am really quite tired trying to seek out gay dudes. Not that I have so many chances to talk to some and reach out. Sometimes I don't feel like it. Why can't he reach out instead?
And yes these national athletes are getting my heart pumping. Especially these cute school athletes. He ignored me the second time even though I thought I could get his mobile this time round. He shattered my heart into pieces. Another (whom I had cruised right up the rest-room)whispered something to his friend and I felt embarassed. Don't you understand? All I want is some love, any love, physical, emotional and that inter-connectedness.
OH GOD! Please! Just send me thy loved one! I am really really really tired of this cat-mouse, predator-prey, cruising thingy. I just wanna get one GOOD CATCH and exit from the gay scene . OK?
Not that life around you is making anything any easier. The "hetero" world apparently. Even the gay community isn't as supportive as I would like it to be. This is so sad. I don't wanna be alone in this life. I just wan me life partner and a "son"? (this remains optionable).
Another prayer:
"O Lord
I am GAY AS HELL
I can't take it any more.
Do you have to torture me like this?
All those men and boys are getting me hot everywhere.
I just need ONE good man (boy) and that is all I ask of.
Is this so hard?
LORD?"
I am really quite tired trying to seek out gay dudes. Not that I have so many chances to talk to some and reach out. Sometimes I don't feel like it. Why can't he reach out instead?
And yes these national athletes are getting my heart pumping. Especially these cute school athletes. He ignored me the second time even though I thought I could get his mobile this time round. He shattered my heart into pieces. Another (whom I had cruised right up the rest-room)whispered something to his friend and I felt embarassed. Don't you understand? All I want is some love, any love, physical, emotional and that inter-connectedness.
OH GOD! Please! Just send me thy loved one! I am really really really tired of this cat-mouse, predator-prey, cruising thingy. I just wanna get one GOOD CATCH and exit from the gay scene . OK?
Not that life around you is making anything any easier. The "hetero" world apparently. Even the gay community isn't as supportive as I would like it to be. This is so sad. I don't wanna be alone in this life. I just wan me life partner and a "son"? (this remains optionable).
Another prayer:
"O Lord
I am GAY AS HELL
I can't take it any more.
Do you have to torture me like this?
All those men and boys are getting me hot everywhere.
I just need ONE good man (boy) and that is all I ask of.
Is this so hard?
LORD?"
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