Gay-O-Meter

Only 70 percent! Phew! I'm not that gay after all. 'So mum, chances of me getting hitch is still there la. Guess we can cancel all those blind dates with the auntie's daughter for this weekend hor? Not need to be kang cheong la. I still got time'

Try logging onto www.channel4.com/life/microsites/G/gayometer and take the test to see if you're a qualified gay or just a confuse child in denial. I got this off from my soon-to-be bff, big ben. Why soon-to-be, well, i'm still trying to persuade him. He's degil la. Anyway, the test is best. And it gets better if you try to play it on any self proclaimed straight guy, and see if he actually measures up! Chances are he's just one of us. So be afraid. Be very afraid! Aww

I want to be fantabulously rich!

Have you ever imagine yourself being fantabulously rich? So rich that it might take a couple of lifetime to actually spend all the money that you have. Well, i often do. And its always a thrill to think of the mayhems i would cook up with the extra pocket allowance i get. I mean, wouldn't life be quite fun if i'm a hotel heiress like paris, or son of a greek shipping god like brandon or just simply being a good ol' trust fund brat.

It will be socially glamourous to stroll thru childhood with a butler by my side. He'll be fighting off the bullies at school, doing school homework for me, organizing weekly slumber parties and telling me bedtime stories every night. I imagine him to be about six feet tall, brunette with brownish green eyes and a chiseled jawline accompanied with a bod to die for. Hey, he sounds just like josh duhamel. Hmm. Must be the after effect of transformers.

Anyway, back to being filthy rich, from the tender age of eighteen i'll probably be staying in a penthouse of my own on the hill of tinseltown with my four chihuahuas, namely, martha steward, pretzel, scarlett and tofu. Of course, mister butler would tag along obediently. Only difference is, he'll be topless most of the time, cleaning my pink heart shaped pool while i drool all over him on the breakfast table. Talking about breakfast, i'll have my own personal chef to rustle up my every meal as planned by my dietician. I would even have a food taster, just in case the chef overdo the salt in my soup. And for the fun of it, i'll have a slurpee machine and a cotton candy maker at every room in my penthouse. But personally i wouldn't be eating much of anything since being anorexic is like such a must-have for all mega rich kids. Think the olsen twins, allegra versace, miss lohan, and you'll understand what i mean.

Since i won't be expected to have a day job, i'll be spending my every other afternoons redoing my manicures, have weekly appointments with the salon to touch up my roots, facial every sunday after the big night out on saturday and non-stop shopping spree at hermes, jacob & co. and roberto cavalli. Kitson would even have 'team mr wanna' t-shirts on sale, just for me, since by now i would have attracted a strong crowd of paparazzi and photographers of my own, documenting my daily life on a regular basis. Publicity sells. So will those t-shirts. And all these because i'm richer than the average. I'm fantabulously richer. Ah the joy of being filthy rich.

If only.

Just in case you have forgotten about him :-)

I want him! I want him! I don't care! Argh!!!

Lion City Ordeal

photo taken @ bugis junction

Do you realized that bridal house are so not homosexual friendly. I was in singapore last weekend for my sister's wedding photo selection and it just sort of hit me that bridal house are generally homosexual free. Maybe its just an asia thing, you know being more conservative and less open than the west. Maybe its just me. I'm not sure. But right now it just feels like every single corner of the room is infested by straight couples. Okay, maybe the word infested is too strong of a word to use and sound a bit sexist, which would most likely lead me to being so stoned to death in my neon pink bikini (another tragic matthew shepard sad case) Anyway, my inner intuition is screaming for a global bridal house revamp. Think of two equally horny guys, madly in love and looking like they are about to jump into each other's pants against a picturesque landscape on a 20 by 20 canvas out front as a promotional billboard of a bridal house instead of the 'usual' boy girl combination. It would most probably shock two third of the nation and its godfather, but seriously how cool would that be. A world without discrimination. A world where we are given total freedom to wed whoever hell we desire, whenever, wherever and however, without being judge upon. A perfect world, not just some unachievable dream that all gays and lesbians have.

And if, if, i were to have my very own gay wedding (hihi), i'll definitely opt to go for those kinky sailor theme, complete with checkered skirt, white square hats and pointy black shiny shoes. Located out on a deserted beach on a far away island, expect champagne to be served on anchor shape glasses along side an array of freshly made sushi and sashimi, by hunky waiters in speedo. Yummy. Hihi

If only.

Oh by the way, this is rather shameful but i was stop at the singapore's custom for a random urine test as i was getting back into the lion city. My first. My first ever urine test. And frankly, it wasn't a very pleasant visit. Peeing in a small plastic bottle is one thing, but trying to get it all in without peeing on your own fingers is another problem. Very problematic. Anyhow, i did managed to survive the humiliating ordeal with a big fat NO on the test result. Why wouldn't i? And my advise to future random urine test victims (touch wood), drink lots of water to avoid having yellowish pee, which i must say is so not classy at all, girlfriend!. Secondly, try to just fucking calm down cause breaking into cold sweat, biting your nails and shaking vigorously is such a give away even if you are innocent. And lastly, try not to do drugs. But if you do, please just stay in the country for at least a month before attempting to go pass any custom check. Its only wise to do so.

B O R I N G !

Its a busy busy time of the year for me. The frequent fly over to shanghai (ahem), the endless holiday trips (ahem again), and the shit loads of arse kissing slavery have kept my social calendar jam pack full for the past months. Adding on to the long list of must-do is the inevitable and definitely unpleasant event of shifting to a new place. Yup. I'm moving out of my apartment. And like the likes of the beckham family, me too have decided its high time to just fuck it all and move on. In my case, not very far off. Just down the road to the next neighbourhood. And may i add, shifting house is no fun. No fun at all!

Nevertheless, in between all this mayhem i did managed to scope out a potential eye candy. Only problem is, he's way younger than me. Way younger! I need a man, and not some boy with an ego problem bigger than an elephant arse. Is that so hard to ask? Hmm...

Where can i buy stardust?

Have you ever thought of just running away? Running away from the catastrophe we call life. Running away, out into the rain and let it wash away all trace of adulthood. The burden. The duty. The responsibilities that comes with every blow of a birthday candle.

The traffic in my brain is driving me insane. There's so many things that flows into my thoughts of late, and it's putting some strain in me. I've lost my sparkle and all the stardust that comes with it. I've lost the glow that warm my path and shine my darkest moments. I've lost it all in a one way ticket to doomsville.

I hate it there.
Every nanosecond of it.

Family Portrait

Didn't i mentioned before that i'm famous! Meet my folks...

Transformers

I just watched Transformers. And as i expected, the featured length movie based on the famous comic book saga and the even more famous TV cartoon series is no doubt unbelievably boring. More boring than watching reruns of barney the purple dinosaur on cable. Furthermore, being born post transformers era doesn't help at all to excite me about this whole robot thingy. That and also maybe the fact that as a kid, i was more infatuated by the colourful world of my little pony, care bears and smurf, to even pay any attention to a bunch of vehicle coming alive. Its all to manly for my liking.

It doesn't help that its way too complicated and foreign for me to understand as well. All this macho talk about megabot and autotron (or was it megatron and autobot??) is way harder than learning algebra in finnish. If it weren't for eddy's patience in giving me a full on lesson on this whole transformers theory through out the movie, i would have fallen asleep fifteen minutes into the movie or died of severe head concussion trying to understand the overly complicated storyline. Its just too technical.

I thought i'll never see this in a movie, but the whole two hours and twenty four minutes of the movie is too jam packed with things happening, air craft explosions, metal transformations and people running for dear life, till i was exhausted by the end of it. I didn't have time to even drool on the sweat drenched shia labeouf, forlicking alongside the evenly sweaty josh duhamel. I think man in uniform is the way to go for me la! Bring on the uniforms, darling!

Bridge to Terabithia

I'm a tragic pedophile la (the spelling looks kinda weird?) Anyway. I caught a glimpse of bridge to terabithia on the way back from shanghai and i absolutely, absolutely can't take my eyes of that young boy. He's quite hot la for a child. So yummy! I just feel like nibbling on his ears! Argh! Geram!! And from the horny-ish look of my cabin partner, miss code name : candy, who's eyes were swelling to the size of a donut by now (you see, the movie is quite sad one), she too was quite caught up with the boys looks. And lets not forget about the wide-eyed little girl, with whom he shared the limelight with. Her performance was simply stunning and at certain scene, easily overshadow her very cute co-star. I bet dakota fanning is shaking at home now, worried and hiring ten gazillions of acting coach!

And from the occasional tears that managed to squish through my eyes, Bridge to Terabithia has out shined itself to be a masterpiece of its own. Beautifully adapted from the beloved children novel by katherine paterson, it reminded me to never be afraid to dream, to have fantasy and be creative about life.

"Just close your eyes and keep your mind wide open" | Leslie

Don't Give Up, You Are Loved | Josh Groban

you know who you are

Daydreaming away the blues...

wishing' and hopin' | dusty springfield

Memoirs of a Workaholic

It was a thrilled to be jetting off to shanghai again after just been there less than a month ago. Never one to miss the opportunity for another slut trip, shanghai just fall nicely on my 'bff searching' schedule. So the plan was to meet more sisters, and get some work done in between. Nice and simple. Only problem is, life is never that simple for a hopeless slut like me.

So there i was, trying to run a production in a mandarin-speaking city, juggling the occasional fuck up and the usual misunderstandings, while trying to catch the attention of any single eyelid passerby. Who was i kidding? Besides myself that is.

Regardless, i did manage to stumble across some really nice sisters and also the periodic self proclaimed brothers while i was there. The cutest one is that english lad who came up to me with the line, 'Do you know what we call flight attendant back home in england? Trolly dolly!'. I was like huh?! Pardon my england, but wtf? :P

I had lots of fun that night.

Don't be jealous mr connie the cow! Jangan marah!

The man we shall not mentioned. Ever again.

Huh? The obnoxious duo

Return of the dark shades

Yes, i'm still very much alive!

I've been away for a bit lately. Slaving on yet another job in shanghai. Trying to earn a living in this oh so cruel world. Nevertheless, i did had some fun while i was there. After all, it's me we're talking about here, the party queen from the faggotory department!

So, you must be wondering who's that guy from lot 332? Hihi. So there i was standing along the empty street at half pass eleven, wind blowing at my feet, hands in my pocket, contemplating on whether we should just fuck the world and head home instead. It was then the sliding door slides open and the sweet sound of solu music lure me further into lot 332. I'm royally hooked!

So who IS the guy from lot 332? Well, he works there. A masseur in training and professional rent boy in disguise. Yes, you should see the horror in our face as we walk back out onto the quiet street with the two guys tailing behind us! The plan was, we were suppose to have a decent massage, so upon entering lot 332, we were seated by the bar. The pimp came la and offer us a menu of boys to choose. It was like in a restaurant. So canggih! We got to pick and choose. Thinking it was maybe just an additional feature to the usual massage, i pick the cutest guy in the lot and was ready to go into one of the rooms behind the bar, when we realized the guys were taking their bag and heading towards the main door. Huh? Where were we going? I walked pass mr pimp and he casually explained that, 'You can take them home. Do what ever you want!' We were petrified! Huh? Wtf?

So, we took the boys home, back to the hotel. Mind you, we are not some horny bastard going for an orgasmic release, but we were simply not sure what else to do. We even planned to just drop them off at the roadside, pay them whatever money they were suppose to get and just dashed off. But that wouldn't be nice. So, in the end, bringing them back seems like the only other option.

Not one to do all this boy renting thing, i end up having the most expensive conversation ever in my life. Five hundred ren men bi for a fourty five minutes chat. How champion is that! The best part was when i told him it's getting late, i'm a bit tired, so maybe he could leave, he turned towards me and say 'Wouldn't you want a massage? I'm not good at it though, but i can give you a blow job!'

I send him home not long after that.

No!!!! Don't touch me! NEVER! Arghhhh...