Much ado about nothing...

Much ado about nothing…and I really mean nothing.

I woke up today in a state of loss. Notice I have to use the word ‘today’? Because by the time I finally opened my eyes to this flowery world (which is a crappy adjective because my room is messy, dirty, cramped…anything but flowery), it was half past noon. I dislike waking up late. I feel short changed…it’s like my day seems already spent even before I’ve done anything fruitful. Hmmm…but then again, it really isn’t as if I’ve got anything earth-shatteringly purposeful to do.

Since my mom wasn’t at home, I promptly lit a cigarette right smack in the middle of my bed and rejoiced in my little perk from the nicotine. In case you were wondering, no, I haven’t brushed my teeth at that particular moment yet. Go on, call me a ‘swine’, a ‘dirty pig’, etc etc. One fag before brushing my teeth probably doesn’t make my teeth as yellow as your piss. And just in case you were not wondering, I brush my teeth religiously twice a day. Ah…it’s been a while since I’ve been so profane towards my tooth brushing duties.

I felt hungry so I went to grope around the kitchen for something to eat. My treasure hunt around the kitchen didn’t reap any exciting results. Cornflakes, instant noodles, bread, honey-baked ham, nutella, bits and pieces… nothing interesting. I was rather tempted to toast some bread with the honey-baked ham. But just for your information, especially those who just called me a ‘dirty pig’, I decided not to eat my own kind. Being dirty is one thing, being a cannibal is another thing altogether. Well, let’s just say I find bread-toasting a troublesome affair.

I took out a spoon and fed myself generous scoops of nutella. My mom totally objects to that, but if we keep our lips sealed, nobody will find out, right? I wallowed in self-pity as I sat before the television (which really wasn’t showing any nice programmes despite 60 channels…I ended up watching some gorillas having sex on a National Geographic documentary) as I ate my breakfast cum lunch and perhaps cum dinner. Oh what plight! Oh what hunger! Oh what sadness! Old McDonalds had a farm e ya e ya oh! Damn it, every household needs a woman around to whip up three square meals a day. Every decent bloke ought to get a girlfriend to cook him some favourite dishes when he is hungry. But wait, I’ve got no girlfriend in the first place. That must mean I’m indecent?!? Okay, in this era and at this time, it would be more politically correct to say that every household needs a maid. And every guy, decent or otherwise, still needs to eat. Don’t start calling me a male chauvinist ‘pig’… I hate that bloody pink animal anyway.

But hunger is not something so easily satisfied by the less than nutritious chocolate spread. A hungry man is an angry man. If you would just stop telling me how unmanly I may sound (it really is a matter of the writing style), then, I really was quite fed up at not having anything proper to eat. So I told myself: ‘dOminiC, you’ve gotta be strong now…just fucking crawl downstairs and buy yourself something to eat!’

Seriously, I believe actions speak louder than words. Er…actually in this context it’s not true since eating, for me, is more or less a quiet matter. But anyway, somehow I went downstairs (during which I fagged again) and went to the coffee shop to get myself the absolutely delicious, exhilaratingly gastronomic, sensually colourful, ridiculously tasty…………wanton noodles. Really, the name of the noodles says it all. I love it. I’m filled with a certain degree of wantonness now. Tough luck, I’m on a tight budget. In case you didn’t already know, one of the ingredients of wanton noodles is char siew. Talk about Cannibalism.

Anyway, the Auntie selling me the noodles (coincidentally, she is a woman) noticed my long locks are gone and asked: ‘Eh boy, 你剪头发 ar?’

BUT… being the vain and superficial person I am here is how I interpreted it: ‘Eh boy, why you go and cut this CB hair?’

Which reminds me…Well, you might really be curious why I am not using the persona of the boy or the third person narrative I’m usually so fond of using. Come on, he is burnt out from blogging rubbish, so cut him some slack. Who the fuck is the boy anyway? Why does he always seem to have some issues?

I ate my noodles, albeit silently, and fagged my third ‘after-meal’ cigarette. The world seemed at peace again. Oh gone is my plight! Oh gone is my hunger! Oh gone is my sadness! Oh Suzanna, oh don’t you cry for me!

Thereafter, I decided to go for a swim. Though that means being immersed in chlorinated water which is bad for the hair, swimming is the only exercise which doesn’t make me feel like I’m sweating. I waddled about in the not-so-deep end for a while and clambered out shivering with cold. Mr Sun was sleeping on his job. Is he burnt out too? I really ought to cut him some slack…he has been burning on for the past few million years already.

Anyway, I was smoking by the poolside, trying to absorb the comforts from what little warmth my cigarette could provide when a pompous looking management officer approached me with two security guards and told me this was a no-smoking area by law. Fine…so I walked five paces away to the edge of the boundary of the poolside, found a nice spot and continued smoking. I am truly, a law abiding citizen. Okay, maybe I jay walk sometimes but that’s not counted.

But some buggers just don’t give up. The arrogant bastard came over and harassed me with further questions in his self important tone. He asked if I was a resident staying here. That really was a dumb question. Why in the world would anyone not staying in the estate drone nothing but a bathrobe and come swimming in the pool? Then he asked for my resident pass. Didn’t bring it along, so I flashed him my door access card and told him to go up with me if he really wanted to see my resident pass that badly. What a fucking idiot…

Next, he tried to tell me in his inarticulate English that the no-smoking law applies to all swimming pools, blah blah blah. I grew quite impatient and angry. (Although I was no longer hungry by then) So I asked him if it was agreeable to smoke where I was, at the boundary of the poolside. He said it was okay, and hoped I would cooperate next time. So I questioned him the rationale behind the law. I mean…what fucking difference does it make to smoke where I originally was and here, at the boundary? It is fucking only 5 paces away you bloody obnoxious dumb-ass.

He gave me one hell of a cunt answer. He said people smoking inside the boundary might fall asleep and the cigarette might then melt the plastic tables and chairs within the boundary, causing the management to incur extra costs. Er…excuse me, what kind of brainless cock answer is that? I gave up trying to argumentative with him. He isn’t worth it. I really hate to discriminate, but I only speak with people who are intelligent enough to know that people who are smoking do not fall asleep simultaneously, especially not by the swimming pool and clad in their swimming attire.

So I told him I understood (I hate to lie too, but I didn’t feel like wasting any more time with him) and went to the toilet. When I returned, I overheard him commenting to the security guards, in a tone laced with triumphant ego: ‘This is professionalism, must tell him. If he don’t listen then scold him. If he still don’t listen then…’.

Then what? Then shut the fuck up. Look, the singular pronoun ‘he’ is followed by ‘doesn’t’, not ‘don’t’. Get that right. And what does he know about professionalism? Professionalism my ass. He knows nothing but tries to act as if he is some wise sage with boundless knowledge and superior authority to throw around. Little does he realise that doing so makes him more silly than he already is. Mind you, my dad, like all other residents, pays him to work for us. So loosely speaking, he is merely a hired employee so he really shouldn’t get too cocky. And I swore to myself that if he dares try to scold me, his life will be miserable. Very miserable. But then again, I decided that such people are not worth my time. Not to mention, I am an obedient and law abiding citizen.

Now now… let them live in their own disillusioned world. I can’t be bothered with them. Now now…I went back home and read my book till now. Now now…者么我一直狂打喷嚏，在凌晨三点二十六分，let me sing, let me sing a song 陪你如睡。Yawn…going to brush my teeth now. What a day with much ado about nothing!

Forgive me...

Yeah, forgive me for being vain, but here I am after my new hair cut. At first, my hair was unkempt and in bad shape as shown below. Fucking looks like the maggi noodles I ate this afternoon because i was too broke. Er, so why am I broke? Oh well, thats another story altogether.  

 

Well anyway, i went to the hair dresser two days ago, and here are the after pictures. My mom was disgusted because she wanted me to cut some mohawk hairdo. Damn it, I never spiked my hair ever since after army days. It is supposed to have ash highlights but somehow it does not look as ash as ash. My cigarette ash sure does not have the same shade of colour. Whatever.



Yup, so that is my hair dressing episode, least you people should ask me what happened to my hair when I see you guys at Sentosa on Sunday. No, I did not bloody eat my hair for lunch, I went to cut it all off.

A Conversation Part II

A Conversation Part II

(Note: The following is an honest passage of self-evaluation and personal argument more than anything else you may allege it to be. While I do not shirk away from the responsibility of its contents, it really has no intention of causing upheaval, morally or otherwise. It pains me to have to design such a note, because it signals a lack of freedom of creative expression.)

ROTW: I do not have a fondness for theory, and I do not rob you of anything. You ought to get that straight. I am simply trying to show you logic, my logic. Some people call it common sense; others would prefer to think of it as pragmatism. Adam Smith calls it ‘animal spirits’, you should know better. Whatever its name, you are seriously lacking in it. The slightest of provocation makes you cringe in disgust and angst. Do you think you are stable enough to handle an automobile in tight situations? Your problem solving ability still leaves much to be desired because you think too often with your heart and too little with your mind. Your mental faculties, however brilliant they may be, are undermined by your impulsiveness and rashness… Some things can get hard to comprehend some times. Material comforts, sensual pleasures, power and status do not always move in tandem with ethics and morality. There probably isn’t any compromise you can cling on to, hard as you may try.

Boy: Why do you introduce such alien terms like ethics and morality? I never had them nor have I ever regarded them very highly. Just as material comforts and such have no value to me, then ethics and morality are just as inconsequential. Socrates argued about it with Meno and came to no conclusion. Mills tried to stipulate how and when the law can ensure purposeful ethics. Self-righteous persons from our age now talk about valour and morality with such gusto that it makes me cringe. People can, and will go on talking about virtues. Let them have it their way. The thing is: who defines these virtues anyway…if they can be defined in the first place? Perhaps what morality means to me is totally different from what it means to you. Virtues cannot be defined universally, so please spare me from your incessant ramblings about them. Perhaps, just perhaps, the progression of humanity may be accelerated if mankind stopped harping on excessive morals and ethics. And you like logic so much? Well let me ask you a question rooted in simple logic. Why in high heavens above did they issue a license to me? Because I’ve demonstrated the appropriate levels of competency. The reasoning is gleaming with clarity, but you fail to see it. In this sense, you also fail miserably in your attempts to convince me about logic…especially your logic.

ROTW: Well, I really do not understand your tenacity in some areas. Why do you shun ethics and morals? Why do you bear so much hatred from the most trivial events? Why do you insist on carrying the disgust from the last chapter of your life into the next? Why do you despise authority, especially when it does not belong to you? What? Are you a social deviant displaying every possible form of anti-social behaviour? Be a man, face your flaws.

Boy: Stop asking me questions designed towards getting confessions which feed your ego! I do not shun morals and ethics. I am just saying that I should not be obliged to live my life under another person’s code of moral and ethical conduct unless I think it makes sense. And yes, I am disgusted with certain aspects of my life. Remember Romance of the Three Kingdoms? It consists of one hundred and twenty sub-chapters, and who is to say that the swearing of brotherhood at Peach Blossom Gardens in chapter one has no implications on the course of events which unfolds in the remaining hundred and nineteen chapters? If life really is a book, then it seems only fair to read each and every page with reference to what has already happened in the previous. It does not make sense to forget what you do not like out of mere convenience. I do not despise authority…I just think that if it is not used in the best interest, it will weigh down upon its subjected victims and slowly suffocate the living daylights out of them. I have happened to be at the receiving end before and I know how it feels… that, I have no wish to elaborate. Neither did I ever thought of gaining authority because it is laced with responsibility… which again, is a heavy burden. I never cared about being a social deviant or not, and I think I accept my short-comings with grace. You challenge my manhood…so tell me what makes a man? Tell me what makes a man in your eyes, and I’ll tell you how rotten I see him to be.

ROTW: Don’t try to get smart with me! And don’t try to get too argumentative because by default, I win every time. You can change yourself, but you probably won’t be able to change the rest of the world. Unless…unless you can establish something influential like Marx’s ‘Das Kapital’, or your own global fast-food chain which culturally colonises me, or something along those lines. Which reminds me: you haven’t read Marx’s infamous ideology of equality and homogeneity through state ownership, have you? Ha, of course not, because the book is banned.

Boy: Ha ha! Please don’t make it sound as if I harbour ambitions for world conquest and domination. Ssssh…lower your volume now, discussion on politics borders on dangers. The world was once divided between two extremes of Communism and Democracy which resulted in the Cold War. They claimed the latter was better, but I can’t really tell. Not when I know nothing in-depth about the former except how it was corrupt to the core, as depicted briefly in the text books. Not that I know anything about liberal Democracy as well. But anyway, it is not as if I have a lot to say about either. I never knew politics and I will not pit my life trying to explore its subtleties. My personal new-age ideology is individualism… if every human action is complicit to events happening around him; then does it not seem correct that if each and every one of us tried our best to better ourselves in whatever small way we can, we are ultimately bettering the world? I know that is not individualism per se, and could sound too far-fetched such that you will think it is my idealistic bantering once again. Whatever the case, I think if I set myself out towards this cause, then I will not be too affected by all the gossip, lies, backstabbing, and lack of character…and style of others.

ROTW: I don’t really see the link here… was that meant to be a deliberate poke at someone of a bygone year? That would be passé. But wait a minute, is the accuser always holy? Ask yourself if your character, or rather your lack of it, seems to be the key towards your less than happy life now. The answer is obvious. You smoke, you drink, you make merry without disgrace and you expect your mind to respect you. Come on, your repressed subconscious loathes you! Look at your previous post…what kind of nonsense are you writing? You make sexual puns of the lowest class, you dish out your perversity and lewdness in your attempt to personify an inanimate object into a surreal woman and then try to pass it all off as clever, cheeky entertainment. How distasteful can you get? In the same way you cannot see the soundness of my logic, I cannot see how anything else you say can be credible after the aptly titled ‘Fingering’. Each semester, you learn about the conflicts of feminine and masculine traditions through literary works, but paradoxically you have yet to have learnt respect for the fairer sex, much less equality between the genders. You mind is still too deeply embedded in chauvinistic values. Shame on you!

Boy: The autumn winds blow mercilessly, and crimson leaves scatter across the ground. The swift rapids flow heartlessly, and emerald ripples break towards the horizon…Oh you were saying? Ar… women, and gender…The whole lot of it again. You insist on bilingual proficiency and campaign so vigorously about speaking good mandarin. Let me put it to good use…my Chinese teachers from C High School will be so proud of me. Okay, look at the Chinese character ‘好’. Breaking it down, the left side gives us ‘woman’ and the right side gives us ‘son’. Putting it together means that a woman is virtuous if and only if she can gives birth to sons. Similarly, think about the character ‘安’. The top section gives us the strokes for ‘rooftop’, symbolic of home; while the bottom again leaves us with ‘woman’. Assembling it derives the word ‘safe’, which effectively means that safety, security and comfort essentially requires women to remain indoors…where they are relegated to domestic chores. Hey, but before you start burning your brassieres in protest of me being a male chauvinist pig, I hope you understand I beg to differ from these conservative views. Who really cares about childbirth when man and women fall head over heels in love? Who really cares about staying at home or not when love lingers all around? As for equality…as for equality…Well, I cannot find a better word for it but ‘different’. Women are necessarily different, not better or worse, not stronger or weaker, not smarter or clumsier, but just…different. Equality is not an issue when comparing two rather different things, is it? Some women keep insisting on being treated with a certain fairness, but when it comes to sharing the spoken and unspoken burdens unique to men, I’ve seen them shy away too quickly and too often. Mind you, I’m not trying to emphasize any male bonding here, I’m trying to highlight that some irreconcilable and quintessential differences cannot be overcome by compulsively seeking equality. But no doubt about it: women should receive all the respect and love that men should unconditionally give. Unfortunately, the actions and mentality of many women I’ve met fail to convince me that they deserve it.

ROTW: That is such a lot you say! But really, all you are saying in your roundabout fashion is that you do not really believe in gender equality. In any case, that does not form any justification as to why you should ogle at beautiful girls as if they are mouth-watering delights. Nor does that constitute a reasonable defense as to why you can objectify them. At this juncture, I ought to tell you that I see you as downright promiscuous and frivolous. You do not seem to address your perverse fantasies very well and they manifests in reality as your attraction to women who are physically enticing, especially those who are scantily clad. Why do you allow your desires to go unchecked? Can you really do the deed without feelings?

Fingering...

Disclaimer (if it really works): The following post may contain explicit materials unsuitable for viewers under 18 (in some countries it may be 21). If it is against your religion, national laws or personal interest to view tantalizing materials, please DO NOT proceed. You may want to visit this website instead. http://www.tenbros.blogspot.com/ The world wasn't ready for them, but they rode on...

But I digress. Anyway, you have been warned so don't come wailing about suing me for two million dollars. (who am I addressing here...I wonder) But then again, it really isn't so bad because I like to equivocate. Just change all the pronouns 'She' to 'It' and everything will be fine.

He hugged her...What a beauty she was! What pronounced features she had! She was lukewarm and quite possibly, highly charged. He tightened his embrace and ran his hands along her smooth edges. These were the edges of the world. Slowly, he placed her on his lap...he knew from her slim structure that she was fragile. Perhaps, just perhaps, only fit for the gentlest of men. He wasn't sure he qualified...yet.

She rested lightly on his lap, while he revelled in the tenderness of her closeness. He stripped off her covers in a slow, precise motion. He placed a finger on her and allowed his touch to linger for as long as it took to convey his desire. Once again, he had become a servant of Eros. She gave out a muffled tone; his reassurance that it was pleasurable. It was delightful music to his ears, and its resonance aroused his greatest passions.

He did not need more prompting to soothe another finger over her. It felt sharp sometimes, it felt flat sometimes, but he felt it all. His fingering was in a double beat cyclical movement. His technique, while not mastered to perfection, had incited her to move to his rhythm. Gradually, he increased his tempo and her tone changed from mild to wild, though still retaining its ever feminine quality. Pianissimo. Yes, he has pushed the right buttons and her excitement was ascending to an eventuality. How high can she get?

The impending point of no return was coming. He placed his other hand on where he knew would bring her increased sensations. He has got the whole world in his hands now. He unleashed his passion. He played with her. He injected his masculinity into her. He infused his soul into her. He did it fast and hard. She was overwhelmed. It reached the point beyond what earthly pleasures were supposed to bring.

'Forever love' it was called...he had just demonstrated it to her. The 'her' in question, is his new Casio keyboard.

Hey bros, this one is dedicated to you guys. Thanks for the keyboard...I really love 'her' a lot. And yes, I love you guys a lot too, albeit I won't express my love in the same manner.