rechallenged the addiction

Behind your dusty crooked mind

Is he straight?

I only meet up with straight-acting gay?

No sissy, no effiminate.

Fabulous is not a word he (we) be using.

Christ! I’d fuck him even if he’s straight.

Perhaps he likes to fuck me.

Or fucking is too much for a straight guy — let’s do oral.

What is so irresistable about straight (or straight-acting) men? What made them stand out like a sore thumb? Is it the masculinity? Is it the dressing? Is it the fact that they like the opposite gender?

There is this ultimate aura of a typical heterosexual men. Think! You are having dinner with your friends in a restaurant, and in walk a man and a woman. They are holding hands, smilling broadly at each other. A newly couple. You noticed the man first. How he talks, walks, smokes, and walts (only applicable if you are in a ballroom). You want a piece of him. You either want to have him by the belt, or have him for more. But you do envy the woman, for the ability to tie down a man like that. A straight-acting straight bloke!

Arrested

they got cuffs on my wrists

for a crime called same-sex

What we do between closed door

is what in the court we swore

none of it your business

but I got arrested

Sweet 16 should mean the same

for the straight and the not

Sex is sex regardless of what Clinton has to say

as if when do people and politicians play the same rules

If you already have a pussy at home

but still fondle the outside pussies

you are the man

But if you are fond of cocks

you are AI

Arrested

they got cuffs on my wrists

and treat me second class

Do I have a choice?

What have I done wrong?

Is it wrong to be happy?

I am arrested

cuffs on my wrist instead of ring on my finger

for a crime called love

Affection comes with stares

Expression follows by insults

How discreet should we be

Elmo shouldn’t even be on Sesame Street

Another friday.

Flu is still clinging to my nose. It’s starting to head up to my forehead, really hurting! Body is hot as hell. Fever hasn’t subside. Damn. Cough… sigh! I think whenever I am down with something, there is always the wish that someone is there to make chicken soup (other than my mom, or metaphorically), or that someone to snuggle up with me in bed for the rest of the sick days.

And all I’m getting is the pile of papers at work! Yeah, another friday.

Tempura the crisp around the flesh of red

Scent of it

Sound of each bite

You’d want some

Fondue the melts of chocolate over the flame

Mash of the mallow

Sweet of the blend

The sprinkled nuts

You’d want some

Champagne the soft flow of sparkles

Bubbly quixotic

Classy atmospheric

Quench of all else

You’d want some

Souffle, creme puff, and double latte

You’d want some

Tequila, caviar, and the blue of cheese

You’d want some

Caesar salad, lamb shank, and Russian vodka

You’d want some

Bull-eyed steak, English tea, and Jamie Oliver

You’d want some… and maybe more with that

Dim Sum the variety of tea snack for the indecisive

Baskets of steam

Taste of dynasty

You’d want some

Nasi Lemak the pyramid of Malaysia

Bliss of the ikan bilis

Scent of santan and belacan

You’d want some

Masala tea the drink of mized spices

Beige of its form

Smooth of its flavour

Sipping on serenity

You’d want some

Wanton mee, roti canai, and teh tarik

You’d want some

Kuih lapis, curry puff, and Chef Wan

You’d want some… perhaps two of the three

Rendang, ikan bakar, and asam laksa

You’d want some

Cocoa skin, lean-build, and picturesque personality

You’d want some, don’t you…

And that is the question. Recently someone who is 17 hit on me. Yes, 17! Kids nowadays have real balls. If they like what they see, they go for it.

I do have to admit that he doesn’t really look his age. Body… well-defined in an atheletic manner (think basketball+swimming). Brain… well-read, very matured indeed. Balls… yet to be explored. But the fact that he is the one who made the first move, I am impressed. And for once, he is those few I’ve met who is taller than me!

Visit Malaysia… The only country where you can try the different races.

That was a slogan spurring from yesterday dinner date.

Chinese is dating Malay. Malay is dating Indian. Indian is dating Caucasian. Caucasian is dating… and I haven’t even gone into the list of Portugese, Hispanic, etc.

Is there a preference among different races? I know some friends who don’t date Malay. Reason being that Malays or Muslims have pisang goreng (banana fritters) — being circumcised.

Of cos, there’s also the issue of religious conflict. Like a Chinese friend who’s in a relationship with a Malay guy. During puasa (fasting) month, he would try to accompany his bf in the 30-day fast. The practice sort of strengthen their foundation.

However I can’t say the same for myself — someone who eats like every other hour. The only time I’d fast was during Easter (no, I’m not a Christian; but was forced to do it), and that didn’t make a good impact on me. In fact I dislike the idea of fasting even since. The torment of not able to eat while everything you do reminds you of eating.

I haven’t date Indians before. What I see is many of them has ego issue — something I can’t stand. Being friends is fine, but anything beyond that egoism is out. But you know, there’s always the theory of Indians are great in bed!

Chinese… We do have communication problems too, well at least for me. There’s the dialect issue (I don’t speak any). And there’s the Chinese gungho mentality. The only factor that I date Chinese is because of familarity in culture.

I have yet to date a caucasian, but I shall reserve that option.

So… is race one of the shortlisting criteria for dating?

He has the nerve to say I love you, hmm sorta like my pet dog.

No thank you. I am never going to be your dog.

23 more days before I’m off for a long break. I can’t wait.

But the next 23 days are going to be one hell after another, with deadlines and all. I am bombarded with workloads.

Have made a couple of dinner appointment, but have to cancel them eventually, if I still want to catch some shut eye.

I don’t party all week, but I do miss going out at night.

I should be living my life as a 23, not a 32. What am I after? Sigh.