About Me Malaysian, Kuala Lumpur, Aries, loves red, hates cockroaches, big money spender, financially broke,
loves the clouds during daylights and the stars when night falls, i don't have anyone special, yet, so email me...(ask me).
People tend to say that gay men have it easy. We see each other, we fancy each other, boink in bed a few times and finally we are in love for eternity. Oh, I really wish that’s my love story.
In reality, it doesn’t exactly work that way.
Gay people... ok... maybe not all. Maybe it is just me. I’m having a constant trouble in identifying a gay man. Unlike the detail you can read on one person in social networks like Planet Romeo or Manjam, meeting someone in the real world can be quite an ordeal. I have to come up with intelligent guesses of every possible gay man I found on the street.
But I always find myself wondering, how do you categorise a gay man?
Does being camp means he’s a certified bottom? If he’s butch and rough, he’s a top and love rough sex? Is he giving me a signal or he’s really suffering some kind of eye condition?
And the most vital question is, is he even gay?
Or is he a bisexual leaning toward gayish?
Unlike our heterosexual friends, their ‘roles’ are somewhat like their sexual orientation, very straight. They know what to do in bed, or at least most of them do. Whilst in gay relationship, you might fall for someone, and then when you go home and ready to get fuck, both of you get to doggie position ready for some action. You only realised you're fucked when your bottom is touching his behind.
Never happen to me. I swear.
In conclusion, I am going to use Planet Romeo to find my other half. Even when my friend said, “Aku rasa semua dalam PR nak main je,” I still believe that maybe, my future boyfriend is only a click away from my profile.
Who knows?
And before I’m attached, if you see someone chubby, a little bit camp and dress sloppily, please say hi, he might be me.
I really can’t handle this nicotine withdrawal anymore.
I’ve tried screaming. I've tried drinking lotsa lotsa water. I've tried running on the fucking treadmill until I’m all weak. And I've also tried to sleep it off.
Nothing works.
In the end, my craving for one little cigarette has gone to a point where I’m all ready to sell my immortal soul for it. I am also ready to throw in my first born in the deal if I were to be given a pack of nice fresh Dunhill Menthol Light.
This is mental.
Having this view everyday doesn’t help either.
I wish for a vacation here
Oh. And we’re hiding behind this island from the Tropical Storm Sonomu. I think we are going to survive this shit.
Even though I am a gay man, I don’t do what normal gay people do. I don’t do a lot of partying/clubbing, my bedroom is always a mess, I don’t know how to dress up and I like doing my greasy dirty job at work. But, in spite of not having sensible fashion nous and my devotion to my dirty career, I have a pretty high cleanliness standard.
My mom raised me to prioritise cleanliness. Clothes are to be washed daily, common areas like living and dining are to be swept and tidied up (even though by end of ANY day, it would look like a war zone), to be kind to environment by not littering and so on. We also were taught on how to take a shower, how to scrub at places you thought you can neglect, wash in between your toes and keep your nails short no matter what. I’m lucky that way.
Therefore, I always wander, those single men out there who has bad body odour, who repeatedly wear same shirt AND underwear in a week, who never bother to clip their nails, who rudely sit with their dirty foot up when in company, who doesn’t care about cleanliness; what kind of upbringing were they exposed to growing up?
Don't do this
I am never to blame the parents. Growing up also meant having the time to learn about these things. Stop telling people that because you are a single man, you are excused. Being a single man is not a ticket for you to be a fucking slob or to have Taman Negara under your armpit, it should be the time which you portray yourself to the world that you can take care of yourself and your possible loved one.
Unless you want to be single to your pathetic grave, personal hygiene is vital and should never be ignored.
You're not a fucking pig. Please send out your clothes to laundry room and shower properly, your BO nauseates me.
Thank you.
But I’ll forgive everything and will be your personal hygiene slave if you are him.
I’m out of ciggs and this nicotine withdrawal is really becoming a bitch. Though I’m not yet at the point where my hands shake and/or having extreme headache, I am experiencing anxiety and I get irate easily. And because I don’t have anybody to yell at, I screamed at nobody from the top of my lungs to the open sea.
Yes. I am still somewhere at South China Sea. The waves a bit rough and the wind is not that friendly.
A few weeks back, I saw an able bodied seaman with a beautiful face and breath taking physic.
My first thought was, “Amboi, hensemnye kau!”
My second thought ran over the big bulge in his pants.
And I wonder, with a face like a model and a body like one, why does he opt to work as an AB? Not just him, I have encountered a lot of other ABs on various vessel/boat who can pass off as models. Sometimes with a good lighting and background, I do believe I’m in some kind of photoshoot for Abercrombie & Fitch.
My questions are, do these people know how beautiful they are? And rather than labouring their sweats and earning calluses on their big hands, is not modelling a better alternative to earn a living?
Anyhow, I’m grateful for them being here for providing what seems necessary for a queen like me.
