You know you're screwed when you can relate to love songs written by gay men.

Elton John - I Want Love

I want love, but it's impossible
A man like me, so irresponsible
A man like me is dead in places
Other men feel liberated

I can't love, shot full of holes
Don't feel nothing, I just feel cold
Don't feel nothing, just old scars
Toughening up around my heart

But I want love, just a different kind
I want love, won't break me down
Won't brick me up, won't fence me in
I want a love, that don't mean a thing
That's the love I want, I want love

I want love on my own terms
After everything I've ever learned
Me, I carry too much baggage
Oh man I've seen so much traffic

So bring it on, I've been bruised
Don't give me love that's clean and smooth
I'm ready for the rougher stuff
No sweet romance, I've had enough

Other gay men who write such beautiful songs are Freddie Mercury and Rufus Wainwright.

My new office featured a grand relocation; I am now seated amongst a bunch of quiet workaholics.

We were having lunch with newfound colleagues who usually sat at the other end of the office. Somebody cracked a joke, and I laughed.

"Eh, your laugh is like Lisa's!" (Names changed to protect privacy.)

"Oh really? I've never heard her laugh before even though she sits opposite me. She's always busy at work."

"You know, this means something! You guys are meant to be! Fated! No other people I know laugh the same way!"

Fortunately, Cupid never shot any arrows in our direction.

I know someone who eats Indomee the exact same way I do, and we share the same preference for food and have the same food allergies. Does Cupid shoot?

No.

Why?

While it would be cute, it would eventually be too horribly cutesy for everyone, the way we do everything alike.

(...though an opposite-like couple can still be horribly cutesy, heh.)

She follows me around. Or maybe, I bring her around.

I see her at work.

She's by my side when I sleep.

I love walking with her, and stopping to smell the flowers.

She hangs around.

She opened up my eyes to new horizons. She captivates and captures. She inspires me.

You have no idea how proud I am of her - I can sit and talk to guys for hours about her. They say I'm bordering on obsessive. They don't know how much more than obsessive it is. She's always on my mind.

And yet, I introduce her to my guy friends. If they like her too, I am all the more happy.

Likewise, she helps me meet chicks! I can't tell you how much I take that for granted, that she's so accomodating.

For she, now she, I really positively love and will feel a strong sense of yearning when I don't see her, and it saddens me that I do have such a strong dependency on her.

I am not afraid to be seen with her. She sits on my lap on the bus and I shoot a straight face at whoever looks at me with very much a disapproving glance. They're just jealous.

And here's another thing to be jealous about - she doesn't mind polygamy, as long as she knows that I love her the most. :)

Which comes to another tangent - I... well, I have not had sexual relations with her. Some say it's very wrong. Am I one to waver to beliefs imposed upon us?

Despite my accidentally non-conformist nature, I am really deep down inside, a conformist. I want to fit in!

However, I have decided to skip this year's celebration of commercialism. Hmmm, commercialism. That word makes me sound like a whiny cynic grouching over every celebration where there is money to be made. But hey, making money is cause for celebration!

'sides, how do I top Hannah Sarah Tan?


(From last year's blog post.)

I still remember when I first saw Hannah Sarah Tan hannah t's Christmas CD in a magazine shop. I bought a 100 Plus canned drink, and noticed her CD going for RM18 (I think.) Wow. Without realizing, I gave the cashier two RM10 notes!


On a lighter note, there's Andrea Veronica Fonseka (who refuses to rebrand herself Andrea F.) I can attest to seeing her in a bikini before that infamous picture, and she was certainly did not look like that then. Must be the rich food over there.

Watch out kids, 81% of hand-foot-mouth disease transmissions happen on February 14th. So stay home and avoid the plague!

Then again, if you can top being a top model, now-famous blogger model, hot dancer or car model... or you have a different, unique angle to sell, give me a buzz and I might haul my ass out.

In other news, spot me in the February 2007 issue of KLue. Sorry Davina, I beat you to it. :P

Anyway, now for some pimping.

What: Singles Night Out
Where: KL Jam Asia, Desa Sri Hartamas
When: 7:30pm registration, Thursday 15th February 2007
How Much: Free entry!
Who: Hot chicks who probably have a thing for rocker-looking guys. And of course, rocker-looking guys, because that's where they hang out - KL Jamasia.

More details here.

What: Project Bazooka (also a Single's Traffic Light party)
Where: The Curve, Laundry Bar
When: 10pm, Thursday 15th February 2007
How Much: Free entry!
Who: Bittersweet, Lightcraft, Kluk Kluk Adventure

Oh, and I gotta quote this from their site:

Heard of a TRAFFIC LIGHT PARTY?

DRESS IN GREEN = I'm available. It's quite straightforward. Go for it.
DRESS IN ORANGE = Hurry up! Faster! Time is running out!
DRESS IN RED = Break the rules... wink
DRESS IN PURPLE = I'm "Grimace", from McDonald's, not Barney, or Brinjaw.


How many Pinkpaus does it take to change a lightbulb?


Boys and girls, not knowing where to celebrate commercialism? Take your loved one out to one of Pimppau's Pinkpau's V-day recommendations.

What did I do on December 31st, 2006?

I went to two parties.


One had a view which spanned three fireworks launches, like this one in front of the National Museum.


(Okay, so the same spot was the best; KLCC was too smoky and the other one was quite beyond and not as frequent.)


Tilted sideways. Nothing fancy here because I only brought my little Canon Powershot A520, and it's not as steady as shooting fireworks with the camera pointed upwards. :(

At the second party, already January 1st, 2007, the party had died down, and I sat down on a couch. This chick next to me asked me to sign the guestbook.


She didn't quite recognize it. "Is it a robot?"

I don't have to be cool (or uncool) to know it's definitely not organic.

This Iranian dude came up to her, sat next to her, and continued a previous conversation.

"So you're a lawyer? I saw you and thought you were a writer! Somebody in the creative line. You know, you have really nice hands. Hands of a writer."

He then examines her hands gently.

"You know, creative people have longer, slender fingers."

I looked over, and her fingers were much shorter than her palm! Not only that, she was sitting somewhat rigidly, fitting her lawyer occupation. Pickup line fail brader.

He left to get a drink, and she turned to me and asked if I was alright. "You were so still, I thought your friend was drawing your sketch!" (My friend was facing me, scribbling in the guestbook.)

"No, I was just staring into space."

"...okay, actually, I was eavesdropping. Heh. It's always amusing to hear a guy pick up a girl. Did it work?"

"No... but he was interesting."

He returned with more lines. "You know, I like that look of yours. It's like slightly annoyed. I think you'd look very sexy when you're angry. If I saw you in a bar, you know, I'd just go up to you, kiss you, and then talk."

They then talked about politics, and travelling in the Middle East. I dozed off.

I'm not sure if he leaned over to kiss her, as turning would blow my cover.

She then left, as her transport was leaving.

Chapter Two

The Iranian dude then chats up my friend. At this point I wasn't in earshot and didn't bother, but the friend I came with and I gossipped about it. I quickly gave her the 411 on his attempt on the lawyer, to see if he'd repeat the same things.

Soon, his hand reached over her back.

We went across the hall to sit elsewhere, out of earshot but still able to see them.

"Are they kissing, Albert?"
"No, you can see his head is at that angle... and she's nodding."
"Are they kissing now, Albert?"
"No, not yet... I can still hear him talking somewhat."

"OOO! Now they're kissing! See her head's like tilted. Oh now they're talking. Okay now they're kissing."

He then examined her hands. Aha! He did use that trick after all.

We then left the hall to leave them to have fun.


I found this rather disturbing view from a room window.

Morning came, and they were cuddled up on the couch, all lovey-dovey and holding hands. "Let's go for breakfast!"

As we sat in a mamak in daylight, it was then that we saw the Iranian dude in his full uh... glory. Unibrow, bushy chest, big nose, and ugly, cavity-full yellowed teeth! He looked alright in the dark, cool and suave even, but in daylight we got quite a shock.

Me and my two female friends all looked at each other, sharing the same expression. This was something we could make fun of her for years!

I never quite believed in beer goggles until this experience.

She was, however, still putting her hand on his lap.

In the middle of a conversation, he pulled out a green wine bottle from under the table and drank it. That was a most comical moment indeed.

"So I'll send you back to your apartment?" my friend asked.

"Nah it's cool, I'll take a cab back." he said.

We got in the car.

"AIYEE! OH MY GOD! I can't believe I made out with that guy!"
"Yeah, but you were all so lovey-dovey right?"
"Yeah, he so thinks I'm gonna call. He gave me his number but I didn't give him mine."
"Wow, that's smart."
"Yeah, lucky I did that. You know, in the morning lying beside him, I realized that hey, I didn't even know his name!"

I'm glad for her and that little plot twist. :D


As I walked home after it all, my road was sprinkled beautifully. Welcome 2007! (I'm not that lagged; I bumped into a lot of people at Laundry Bar on the 11th of January but everybody wished me Happy New Year anyway.)