Nip Tuck

Just started on watching Nip/Tuck actually. Last night, my friends got me the series in DVD. The award-winning series tells the story of two longtime friends, actually two plastic surgeons who run a clinic in South Florida. Christian Troy ( played by the lusciously wicked Julian McMahon ) is the stereotypical self-destructive playboy who finds his life slowly changing as age and maturity finally catches up with him while his best friend, Sean McNamara ( Dylan Walsh ) is the family man facing a moral crossroads - and an approaching midlife crisis.



What strikes me in this series is the fact that it involves plastic surgery and anaesthesiology, two fields of medical specialty that I've been contemplating joining. During medical school, I had brief, fleeting plans of entering the world of surgery. Becoming a medical physician didn't sit right with me. Dispensing drugs and advice day by day bored me to absolute bits. As a budding medical student, I craved action, and lots of it. Needed to do something with my hands and surgery seemed like a challenging field that would appeal to me, and plastic surgery - the art of making people beautiful - certainly fit my profile well enough.

However once I began my career, there was a brief shortage in the anaesthesiology department where I was finally placed. I would love to say that I entered it gratefully but there was some kicking and screaming involved when they dragged me behind the scenes. Once I got into the routine of the job, I found that it suited me quite as well. Sure, anaesthesiology might not sound as exciting and glamorous as surgery, most of our work lies behind the scenes handling the monitors and the drugs for anaesthesia, the mysterious combination of science and sorcery that sends people into hopefully painless somnolence while the surgeons work their own brand of magic. Apart from the operating theatres, we also handle the day-to-day operations in the intensive care units - using antibiotics, vasopressors, diuretics and everything else in our hands to keep the poor souls alive. :)

I enjoy my work, I enjoy my patients ( well, most of them anyway... boy, do I have some horror stories from work! ) and sometimes, I enjoy my colleagues ( when we're not playing Machiavellian power games ). There are few regrets about the path I've chosen but there are certain moments, certain times when I see a surgeon at work - especially a plastic surgeon - making their little nicks and cuts, and I wonder whether I'd have done just as well with a knife.

Eating out too

Something cool. One of the books that I first read about gay life... and thankfully a story that has one of the best endings ever... has been made into a movie. More I can't tell you since the movie's just wrapped recently. But it's been made by the same guys who made Eating Out. For those who're still confused, Eating Out's a sweet comedy about a straight boy who decides to go gay to get the lady he loves - much to the confusion of the gay bos who come after him.

But that's not what I was getting at. The book I mentioned is Boy Culture by Matthew Rettenmund. It tells the story from the point of X, a wily, sarcastic gay hustler who finds himself in a difficult spot as he falls for Andrew, a sexually confused stud. At the same time, his other roommate, an oversexed blond twink develops a crush on X.

Eating out

I have colleagues at work who loves having their wives cook at home. Don't be too shocked, we actually still have desperate housewives in Malaysia who cook, clean and support their husbands. Don't get me wrong, I love eating hot home-cooked food as much as the next red-blooded guy. I just love dining out just as much.

Yeah, I am back, took a slow drive back from Penang back home with only Kylie, Blue and Buble to keep me company - managed to keep me awake through the long journey back. Arrived home just before dinner and I was almost too tired to eat, just wanted to sleep it off. Almost as if by magic, Graceless Grace and my ISO called me out for a bite.

I like dining out. I like taking the time to get dressed to go out. And most of all, I like trying new foods at new restaurants. Thankfully, although I'm in a relatively small place, it's quite happening in its own way - and we do have new eating places cropping up every once in a while. Today, Grace managed to find an interesting place - actualy more like a run-down shack by a small, meandering river delta. Redolent with the heavy tang of sea air and the buzz of mosquitoes, a middle-aged Malay couple ran a small stall selling grilled fish and other seafood accompaniments. Despite the dilapidated surroundings, I managed to cannibalize the flesh till all that was left were tiny bones. No doubt, the cat that lives nearby hates me.

Before you ask, NO, Grace doesn't know that I had a wild, tawdry affair with ISO, and since it's a moot point now, I figure there's no need to tell her such a shameful fact. It would totally undermine my standing with her since she believes that anyone foolish enough to tangle with my ISO deserves what they get.

My ISO would spill all gladly but I've threatened him with severe bodily harm and he has readily acquiesced to my demands. Isn't it weird? When I'm not with my ISO, we're simply the best of pals. :)

Getting a workout

Finding out that he was right always makes my ISO happy. We both love being right all the time which made it awful living together butting heads all the time. So it was with some unholy glee that he teased me when he found out about my boredom. Finding out that I wasn't out doing beach sports such as surfing, body boarding and playing volleyball surprised him however. Doesn't he know me? The only way I'd be jogging on the sand is if my ISO was running in front of me in really short shorts and nothing else. :) A jackass but nice eye-candy. I told him so and he laughed readily, calling me a perv. Was that new to him too?



Sports is my ISO's thing. Definitely not mine. My idea of relaxing is.. well, lying on the beach doing absolutely nothing. He relaxes by climbing mountains and running mindlessly down empty roads. He's been after me to join a gym since we first met. Don't get me wrong, I know the benefits of working out. Other than maintaining superficial qualities such as my looks and my gaydar ratings, I also know the benefits from a medical point of view.

It just bores me without a partner to go with. I look at those dedicated muscle jocks working hard and I wonder what they're thinking about. Are their minds a blank slate, a zen-like pool of serenity? While I'm jogging or pumping or whatever, my mind is filled with a million questions... such as...
a) What the hell do I get for dinner? Steak looks great but it would totally undermine the workout..
b) I wonder whether Mrs X would make it through her dialysis. Is she long for the world?
c) How the heck does that guy get those huge muscles? Are those veins gonna blow?
d) What's on TV tonight? Is that hot Sawyer character gonna take off his shirt in Lost?

That's just the tip of the iceberg. Once you actually get started on a fitness regime, it also helps to eat right. Let's face it, I've been to nutrition classes and I know exactly what we should or shouldn't eat. But if I have to live like an ascetic on nuts, berries and leaves like a koala bear, I'd rather ( well, let's not overdramatize and say die ... ) but I'd rather be fat and happy with fries and the occasional McShake. :)

Straight Boys

Being free enough to laze around beaches watching cute boys running along the beach in swim trunks has given me time to think. During their late teens, straight boys and sexually confused boys have slightly different tastes in clothes. As I've mentined before, straight boys nowadays have a predilection for loose clothes, huge tees and tanktops that sag, loose cargo pants that barely hang over their slim waists - occasionally baring a wisp of their shorts. And come on, only rappers can pull off the bling-blings ( or at least they hope they do ). Why do they insist on covering up what should be displayed to the world? :) Do they really seriously believe that girls like going out with sloppily dressed guys?

On the opposite end are the sexually confused or totally out boys who seem to think that the tighter the better. Not that I'm against sprayed on jeans :) but some guys wear it so tight I wonder whether it has effectively cut off circulation to their nether regions. I honestly just saw a Malay guy, cute as a button, poured into a pair of blue jeans so tight I could see the perfect circumcision scar made by his surgeon.

Saying that, I've decided that long beach holidays are not my style. Jason, even you'd get bored looking at waves hitting the sandy shore every minute of the day :) My friends warned me that I'd go crazy sipping pina coladas with lil umbrellas... and I just realized that they are right! Lazing around under palm trees might fit the notion of a perfect holiday for some of the tourists around here - mostly elderly, overweight matrons in tight luminous lime swimsuits - but it is pushing me over the edge. The thing that's keeping me from going stir-crazy here is the fact that there's an internet cafe down the beach - where I walk to every other day to toss away my trash mail and ogle sunburnt white boys.

Just a note! Hope I don't sound like I'm gloating but I can still get into my trunks! Amazing.

Pearl of the Orient

If this post seems a little incoherent, it might just be sunstroke. I know it's Easter but I've gone to Mass :) I deserve my time lying under the palm trees listening to the waves.

If Malacca is my home, I consider Penang as my second home. Ever since I was a kid, every school holiday of any sort meant a trip back North where my relatives all hailed from. Like Malacca, it used to be a Straits Settlement and a port - definitely a far more prosperous and populous port than Malacca. Although it's certainly not one of the important ports in the world nowadays, it still retains much of its charm. Although some changes has to be done if it hopes to retain some of its lustre.

The colonial buildings, the beautiful monuments left behind by the British, have been left rotting away and it was sad to see the dilapidated view presented by Penang's skyline as we approach from the sea. There is hardly any upkeep and the buildings seem to be left to fend for themselves against the sun and the rain ( and of course recently, the tsunami ).

Of course Penang still has some good points in its favour, not least of which is the boys in Penang :) Since my last trip, it has occurred to me that the boys in Penang... are looking really good. Who coulda thunk it? Tall, slim, sexy specimens prowled the streets and malls of Penang... looking hot. The only gripe I had is the prevailing fashion straight boys nowadays have of wearing awfully loose clothing... huge, roomy tees enough to be mistaken for a caftan and baggy cargo pants. Why hide the tight abs and the bubble butts?

Good Friday

Ah, it's Friday. And a special one too as it's Good Friday. For all those wondering, it's a special time as it's one of the few times in the year that I actually attend Mass in Church. For the uninitiated - and the heathens out there :), this day marks the anniversary of the Crucifixition of the Christ. Oddly enough, although I am a lapsed Catholic at best with years of mission schools behind me, I still feel a guilty pang at the thought of skipping mass at these special holy days.

My ISO would laugh at me for sure if I mentioned such a thing to him. Latent Catholic guilt, he'd call it.

Gay Jack

Omigod.. just when I mentioned Jack Shepard being stranded in a desert island with horny gay men, I read an article in the papers that mentioned the possibility that his character might be gay.

Before I proceed any further, Lost is one of the latest drama series from ABC that tells the story of 48 survivors stranded on an island after a devastating plane crash, all different characters and personalities forced to work together against cruel weather, harsh terrain and whatever supernatural secrets the mysterious island might hold. A lil bit of drama, romance, sci-fi all added into the mix. Very little has been revealed about most of the characters and each episode brings to light just a little sliver of their life prior to being stranded on the island. This is a lil road map and a funny blog explaining all that has happened so far on the show. Small island, a group of really hot guys and a handful of women, so what is there not to like? :) Although I might hope that a fire destroys what's left of their remaining clothes, the guys only please.

And there's Jack Shepard ( played by Matthew Fox ). Gaining a reputation as a doctor amongst the abandoned survivors ( whether he might be one is still in question ), he quickly gains the respect and trust of the rest - well, not all - and becomes the de facto leader of the band of friends, family, enemies and strangers. There's a huge argument in the Lost-TV forum about Jack's supposed homosexuality here. So what's your verdict?

Cellphone 'romance'

I'm embarassed to admit it but yes, for months now, I've been sending SMSes ( short message service? ) back and forth with a guy, Leo. My ISO will utterly condemn it if he even caught wind of this. Apart from a vague picture of Leo online, I haven't actually seen the guy. All I know is that he's Chinese ( I think ), comes from Sarawak and works 9 to 5 in the capital. Other than that, he could be a cross-dresser with a pink feather boa, a serial bar-hopper shaking his bits in a public shower or the worst, an insurance boy with runaway hands.

We've shared some experiences on the phone, had several SMS marathons that have increased my cellphone bills astronomically. And odd as it sounds, we're going for a trip to Bali together. I have my qualms, I'll admit. What if we hate each other at first sight? Or worse, what if he hates me on sight! It's going to be like LOST, getting a bunch of total strangers tossed together on a tropical island and hoping they survive the strange encounter. I can already imagine us quarrelling bitterly like a bunch of queens ( oh yeah, that has already happened! :( ) flinging feather pillows and pina coladas at each other's faces, kicking sand at each other, pimp-slapping and pushing each other out of rickety buses...

As an eternal optimist though, I can't keep my hopes down so I'm gonna keep my fingers crossed. Perhaps he's gonna turn out like Jack Shephard ( played by the ever sexy Matthew Fox ) in Lost :) Hell, he'd get every horny gay man wanting to get stranded on a desert island with him.

My ISO

Been mentioning my ISO infrequently over here and since he's just gone back, I guess there has to be some time for a longer explanation than the bit I did way back when.

Ever since we've broken up amicably ( or should I be vindictive and say I dumped him? :) ), I obviously can't keep calling him my significant other which is where the term ISO came from. He'd kill me if he found that out but since he only surfs online for porn, I figure I'm safe. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy mostly. I wouldn't have been so stupid as to have gone out with him otherwise - although I am tempted to lose my head when I see his ass in jeans. He's cute. Even when I feel like strangling him for being such a sod, I have to admit that he makes some pretty eye-candy. He's also free-spirited ( unlike stodgy old me ), impulsive, bad-tempered... the list goes on. Suffice to say, he's almost everything I'm not.

Unfortunately, while monogamy is a cherished idea for me, for my ISO, monogamy is a death sentence of sorts. Although we had a lot of other differences since we're poles apart personality-wise, this was the one thing I couldn't compromise on. I knowthere are modern gay couples who insist on a freer expression of their sexuality, having open relationships with the occasional flings... but I can't. I admit I'm a green-eyed, crazy jealous monster. It's the Scorpio in me :)

Antiqueing

What can I say? I am a closet shopaholic. Once I cast away society's conventions on how a heterosexual man should act like, I also embraced my crazy shopaholic self, hidden deep behind the skeletons in the closet. On early evenings such as today, I toss my shirt and tie to the four winds, pick up my tees and shades, and start traipsing around like a crazy tourist in the historical quarter of town under the sweltering sun.

The antiqueing craze was actually triggered off by my recent purchase of a new place. What is a single gay man doing with such a big place? It's a question that is rife on everyone's minds, which I assume is one of the reasons the marriage issue cropped up. Well, it's almost six months since I've moved in so it isn't that new but there are still some rooms left to furnish and it's giving me a lot of pleasure doing so - although it's leaving quite a dent in my wallet. Since I've come to realize that antiques and dustcatchers are more my style than chic minimalist, it's fortunate that I'm smack dab in one of the oldest cities in the region. Antique shops, local arts and crafts shops - and also antique reproduction stores - abound in the historical quarter of Malacca where I search through dusty shelves for the perfect knick knack to place on the hallway console.

When he happens to be in town, my ISO tags along for my antique hunts for reasons better known to his dark, evil mind. I let him come along because
a) he's a better bargainer than me
b) he speaks more languages than me
c) he makes pretty eye-candy on my arm

Picture Perfect

I know it's shallow, it's superficial, it's cheap, it's a trait that I deplore in stereotyped gay men but I hope to God, if I ever do get married, my partner looks great in a tux. :)

In Malaysia, well actually wherever Chinese families are prevalent, the thought of getting married is immediately followed by the question of where to take the prerequisite photos. For the uninitiated, the wedding photos aren't the usual happy cheery wedding pictures. The newly wedded couple is compelled by societal conventions to attend a professional shoot at a photo studio, decked out in various costumes and make-up reflecting different cultures and periods, prance foolishly about in exotic locations and decadent backyard lots... all to achieve the perfect wedding album to tout to the rest of their unmarried friends and relatives.

As a close friend of the wedded couple, both bride and groom, I just received photos of their recent shoot today. Tiny Tom and Tina waited with breath that was bated as I flipped through their pictures. For the sake of our friendship, I should have oohed and aahed over their posed pictures but I couldn't. I had seen some incredible wedding albums before - where the bride becomes transformed from a plain, working-class Cockney flower girl to a picture-perfect society Duchess. Wait, that was another movie but you get the picture. Amazing makeovers for the day were the rule but that didn't exactly happen here.

On her best days, Tiny Tina looks... hopelessly average, though a lil unkempt despite my Queer Eye advice, but once the bridal studios got their wicked hands on her... For God's sakes, she looked like a cheap two-dollar, overly made-up and over-the-hill Chinese hooker on the stroll with her childlike pimp. One of the pictures made it clearly look as if she was a manipulative madame about to take advantage of a youthful swain. There it feels awful but finally I've said it!

Thank God for internet anonymity. :)

John's Progress

Had a blast from the past the other day when I saw this picture onscreen. How could I possibly forget one of my earliest crushes? Yes, I admit it, I was one of those precocious kids who tuned in to Full House - not to watch the overly adorable twins in their happy home though but to see their hot uncle, Jesse, stride by in tight jeans, dirty stubble and a wide, sexy smile. Back then as a kid barely into adolescence, I certainly didn't know what the hell the attraction was of course.



Right now I can certainly see why :) Coming out of media limbo ( well to me, anyway ), John Stamos plays the title role in Jake in Progress where he plays a hotshot New York publicist in who is getting tired of all the serial modelizing he does and decides that it is time for him to find a soulmate ( pick ME! ). A charming, debonair ladies' man, he foolishly continues kissing damsels in distress while searching for that special someone ( I am right here! ). Even with the years on him, John still makes a suit look extremely good - and everyone knows of my fatal obsession with men in suits. It's simple. Give me a hot man in a suit and I melt like cheap putty.

Been a lil busy these few days as I've been busy writing. So I have added new installments to my new Practical Magic story as well as a draft of something new I've been working on.

All this busy writing takes my mind away from the fact that my kitchen sink's been blocked up since this afternoon. And since I am terribly unhandy with any sort of workman's tools :) I'll have to wait till Monday morning before I ring up the plumber. Why is it that the plumber never quite lives up to one's expectations? Where do they actually hide all the dark, sexy, shirtless plumbers who find themselves terribly horny for an inexplicable reason? They don't only exist in porn, do they?

Bad boys for lunch

Had lunch with a few of my friends today. A chicken rice shop of all places - but it serves some incredible fried wanton that I worship. As I'm enjoying my wanton, in walks a man who gets everyone's eyes flying off their plates. Cliched as it is, Mr Tall, Dark, Handsome and Scruffy came in with a biker's helmet tucked under his well-toned arms, striding in with boots and jeans. Black hair dyed in streaks of brown, stern eyes hidden behind sleek shades. He looked incredibly hot and wicked, and yet I just glanced over for a second to rest on the sublime eye-candy and returned to my food.

Luckily I have my ISO, insignificant other, to thank for all that. Years back before I got madly involved with him, I would have spent so much time falling in lust and getting my heart trampled under those boots. Now, I just look at the cute stud, store in some salient features in my memory file for later use and abuse, and then proceed to forget about him by delving into my lunch instead.

Trust me on this, boys, I've done the bad boyfriend route and it's not a pretty ride. Sure, it might be incredibly scenic with lots of deep valleys and rounded hills but it's a mighty rocky road with a lot of potential for pain for just a spectacular view. :)

Just realized that if my ISO caught sight of my blog, I'm gonna be so dead :) A spanking's the least I'm gonna get from this.

New gay man

Quite a day for quiet contemplation for me today. I actually just read through an interesting blog by 'dL - he has got to get a better name, that's for sure. :) A really new blog actually but it has made me think of the first time I came out to myself.

I think most gay men my age go through their teenage years battling the same insecurities and fears, and hiding from the ridicule of their peers - much as I did myself. Being gay, hell, being anything out of the norm in your teenage years is something incredibly unsettling and it's a really terrible feeling thinking you're alone with all these new, alien feelings. Suddenly turning to look at your sweaty, disgusting mates - and realizing that some of them have turned into incredibly attractive male specimens despite the fact that they're totally oblivious to it - and to the benefits of personal hygiene. :)

We're expected to have the perfect 9 to 5 job, the perfect suburban house with picket fences, the lovely blushing bride and the prerequisite 2.5 kids. It's an expectation that has been drilled into us since we're kids playing house with each other. Sounds preachy but it takes some strength of will and a lot of balls to debunk all those long-cherished myths, to toss all those dreams and expectations in the face of our family and friends, and to make a dream of our own. When you're a teenage kid battling zits, mountains of homework and the dreaded ever-rising testosterone, it sounds like a monumental task.

Even now, I'm not sure how I managed to do all that. Things change but it doesn't mean totally throwing away every cherished dream. Sure, now I have the job and the house. I do want the kids but the lovely blushing bride had better come with big arms and a hairy chest.

Missed appointments

Working in a hospital has its own perks ( what perks! ) and its downsides like every job. One of the major downers about being a doctor is the understaffed departments, odd hours and the ever-changing schedules. There are times when I can't make set appointments and dates since invariably something comes up at work. Planning for a long leave is simple enough for me - just a matter of placing my name in the allocated diary - but actually getting time off is something else entirely. There are all sorts of impediments... always the occasional medical education course, the various general meetings we have and of course, the odd chance that my hapless colleagues might fall into absentia. And as I'm the person in charge of the lot, it falls to me to make things right. :(

So there are times when I can't make it for dates. There will be times when I'll be horribly late - the food will grow cold and the waiter will start tapping their feet in impatience. There will be times when despite what I've promised, I have to call at the last possible moment to cancel. There will be times when I can't be there for someone I care about because I'm with someone else in greater need. There will be times when I'm so exhausted and depressed picking up the phone's quite a chore even! There is no whining involved in this since it's one of the pitfalls of the job I've taken, I hate that but I can't help it.

So to everyone who has made a date with me and gotten screwed over badly by me, I do apologize heartily.

Bali Hai

Don't get me wrong, I actually love my job. I know there are guys out there cynically rolling their eyes, saying 'Yeah, right!' but it's really true. Sure, there are times when I desperately need that booster shot of caffeine and there are those sweet rainy mornings when I pray for another two hours of sleep - but overall I find that I like going to work. I like getting showered and getting dressed for work in my shirt and tie. :) Like clockwork ( apart from being on-call ), I get up at the same time in the morning and clock out at almost the same time daily.

Unfortunately, the sheer monotony and drudgery of work can wear down even my enthusiasm. The lousy hours, the sleepless nights and the workload does add its eventual toll. Factor that in with the oddly Machiavellian politics at work ( more on that later ) and sometimes there is just this overwhelming need to leave it all behind. Run as far as possible, leaving every single trouble and problem at the office behind. Sure it's childish, sure it's irresponsible but oh, it's just so invigorating.

One of the places on my list for a short jaunt over in the weekend is Bali. I know most people would think of the beaches, the temples and the nightlife and I do think of that too. But I'm also thinking of shopping :) Wooden carvings, masks, furniture!

Closet SMS

Does coming out with an sms count? For want of something better to do, I came out to Bank Lady with an sms. God, I am truly nuts.

Rusty gaydar

Proof positive that my runaway pheromones seem to be attracting the wrong kind of attention these days! A friend of a friend of mine - met her during Chinese New Year at one of the gatherings - well, Bank Lady works at a prominent bank corporation in town, something to do with the finance department? :) Details such as that escape my notice when it doesn't come attached to broad shoulders and a hairy chest. Chances are she's more interested in my admittedly skimpy wallet - and my nonexistent financial portfolio - rather than anything else, but she's been calling me out multiple times this week. If the bank had wanted my business, they should have sent someone, tall, dark, handsome with XY genes.

Being the generous soul that I am and giving in, I decided to take the plunge today - therefore pandering to my parents' fond wishes. To my dismay instead of advising me on stock options and trust funds, she starts talking about eveyrthing else under the sun other than that. Rather than pick up cute studs like Yummy Yee, I seem to be getting the attentions of Bank Ladies and drunken Insurance Boys. Hmmm... there is a connection... Banking Corps and Insurance Companies. :)



Well in other news, there was an interesting story I checked out on Yahoo about two gay men in Saudi Arabia who execute a Pakistani to stop him from exposing their shameful relationship. Although I abhor such violent acts, it reminds me of a certain Spanish movie I once caught months back titled Burnt Money Plata Quemada. Full of gritty violence, gunfights and bloodshed - and with the love of two gay men as the throbbing heart of the story. One of the sexiest movies I've seen, it stars two incredibly hot actors as the bank-robbing duo, Nene ( Leonardo Sbaraglia ) and Angel ( Eduardo Noriega ).

Gym bunny

It wasn't a very bad on-call yesterday so I decided to take up Yummy Yee's invitation to the gym. And what a huge mistake it was.

Sure, I do lift weights at home once in a while, do some push-ups and the occasional evening jogs - avoiding screaming cars and packs of mad dogs all the while. Keeps me somewhat fit and tight but it certainly doesn't compare with grueling gym work. The muscle aches and pains were bad enough, and I think I pulled some muscles I never knew I had before. It's going to take a week or so before I can walk without stifling a groan over my creaking joints and aching muscles.

Oddly enough, part of the time I felt really stupid running on a treadmill, wishing that I was anywhere but there. For some reason, I hear of people achieving some kinda zen meditation state while running but all I could think of while running was that luscious Big Mac I'd be having after.

Yet at the same time, I had to look at the other gym bunnies and watch enviously. Sure, there were other guys like me, average guys obviously misled by some well-meaning friends into the gym, but there were the usual dedicated gym bunnies too, serious-looking guys huffing and puffing away like pregnant ladies at a Lamaze class, whose bulging biceps looked larger than my calves - and quite ready to easily lift a car. They looked as if they spent their days doing nothing except looking hot in tank tops, drinking protein shakes and doing reps on the machines. How the hell did they get that way? :)

It certainly comes as no surprise to me now that Yummy Yee has washboard abs with that blind dedication to pushing himself with monstrous machines to a glowing sweat. Yeah, boys, he looks great all sweaty and wet. Pity he seems straight though since I caught him surreptitiously eyeing some girls going by.

Friday Bites

Took another chance on a guy I went out with three months back. Since Insurance Boy bored me to death with his spiel about annuities and policies, there were no sparks between us then - and definitely none now but since I was going for dinner, and he happened to be in town, I figured why not. My ISO told me it was a foolish mistake but I disregarded it since what did he know? :)

Picked a nice little cafe in town where we could have an early dinner since I'd skipped lunch earlier. Just as I was steeling myself for another long-winded lecture on insurance rates, he started talking about his mounting sexual frustration and making such odd ... sexual innuendoes/insinuations that I didn't know what to think. It wasn't as bad as Octopus Joe months back but it was weird.

Hell, I know what I look like. I'm reasonably average looking, black hair, dark eyes... and definitely not some hunky Alexandre Verga/Brad Pitt lookalike so there could be no possible reason for his sudden irrational lust. Half the time I was wondering what's up - and was tempted to smash my tea mug over his head. Ultimately I blamed his uncharacteristic raunchiness on the debilitating effects of the spicy otak-otak - must have somehow scrambled his brains and had him hallucinating for a while.

God knows I should have stayed home with Jamie Oliver instead. For those wondering who he is, he's the Brit cutie who goes around concocting delicious-looking dishes in his kitchen - prepared in the simplest of ways in barely minutes while he melts us down with his sexy lisp. An adorable guy who cooks - and right now, he's on a campaign to bring fresh, tasty, nutritious food back to the school rather than junk food. What else could be better? Although he would approach perfection if he would clean up too!

Needles

I know. I know. In my line of work, I shouldn't be scared of needles ... but I actually am! Not that I'm afraid of sticking the needles anywhere else. It's perfectly fine jabbing that sharp edge into someone else but when it comes to me, I'm pretty squeamish :) Took my blood today for some tests - usually have a routine blood check-up every once in a while.

Seeing fresh red blood is fine by me, I've been drenched in blood more times than I can count - even one time when the blood splattered all over my gown and I resembled Count Dracula after a particularly messy dinner. It's the pain that I can't stand. Sure, we describe it as an ant's bite but the pierce of the needle feels more like a particularly virulent hornet's sting to me!

Wedding date

Been talking a helluva lot about weddings - and one of the comments I had was that my life resembled a movie! And when I looked it up, I found that it's actually true :) My idea of getting an escort for the wedding really came to life in a new movie titled The Wedding Date.



A young lady played by Debra Messing returns, single and alone, for her sister's wedding. The words ...and guest... on the invitation card scare her as much as it did me obviously, so instead of moping around, she decides to hire a male escort, the luscious Dermot Mulroney, to pretend to be her boyfriend. Perhaps I should look into that - she might have the number of an agency that I can use :)

Incidentally, my friend Graceless Grace, was actually named after Debra's character in NBC's comedy Will and Grace - and somehow or rather, the picture above that I saw from the movie is starting to resemble the both of us at a previous function! Me trying not to look too bored and Graceless Grace leaning over my shoulder!

However, if I'm lucky enough on that night, this is going to be the picture I'm gonna have instead. :) I'm pretty sure I don't number any handsome gay men amongst my acquaintances at the coming wedding but I have my fingers hopefully crossed. Perhaps some long-lost strapping cousin of the bride who's a tad sexually confused?

Monogamy

Just a short bit as I'm thinking of marriage. Just as my friends are getting hitched, some of them are already smelling of roses and orange blossoms... I do find myself with the slightest tinge of envy. Hell, I'm dead envious.

Although there will be some who find the institution of marriage stiff, old-fashioned and boring, the idea of two people living together for so long almost incredible and inane, I find it utterly wonderful. The very idea of having someone to come home to, the same boring guy to tell - and share - your troubles, to laugh at your shared jokes, to cry over the little miseries of the day... Surely a rose-tinted view of monogamous relationship but still, that very dream is what drives me - just as lonely singleton once said in You've Got Mail.

It's a fact that my ISO never agreed to. Monogamy gives him the shivers which is one of the reasons we're not together.

Wedding partner

Don't know if I inadvertently came out to one of my friends. I mentioned earlier about a wedding invitation. Well, it's the wedding of two of my close friends, Tiny Tom & Tina - a couple that I had a hand in bringing together. As usual, names have been changed to protect the short and not-so-innocent.

Well, anyway during lunch I managed to call up Tina, mentioned the and partner innocently mentioned on the invitation card and blithely wondered whether I could bring a male partner. Oddly enough, she said yes without any qualifications and told me to bring my boyfriend. I could have fallen off the chair. Sure, the whole issue of my sexual identity has been resolved for quite some time now ( if not, the first time I went down on someone cleared the air somewhat :) ) but I didn't think that I wore my gayness like a badge, the literal pink feather boa around my neck! Anyway, with the carte blanche surprisingly given to me, I found that I had no one in mind to bring to the wedding.

My wicked ISO came to mind but knowing him and his crazy antics, there is absolutely nothing I wouldn't put past him to try - and I'm still the reserved, conservative sort with a stody reputation to maintain. Yummy Yee in a tiny thong and a bowtie came to my naughty X-rated thoughts but I figure with my luck, he's gonna turn out to be hopelessly straight with a hapless bride waiting for him in his hometown somewhere.

Which leaves... no one! I've got the lovely baby pink shirt - and matching tie, the great slacks and shoes but no man to accesorize! Sigh! Anyone eligible and male wanting to have a free dinner sometime in April, please send me some mail. Wonder if Graceless Grace needs a date.

Alfie and my ISO

Finished work early which gave me the time to catch a movie. Popcorn, an easy movie and my ISO ( insignificant other for the uninitiated ). There's a long background story over here but to cut a long story short, he's my cheating ex who I remain friends with since stabbing him with a knife would mean jail term for me - and those stripes never did anything for me. Although I would never admit it to my horridly conceited ISO, there are shades of him in the stories I write. :)

But back to Alfie. It's an easy enough movie to while the time away with. Sexy young cad who goes through beautiful women like so much used tissue comes to his senses one day. Simple enough storyline without much angst and drama. Played by the charmingly metrosexual Jude Law, Alfie makes slim gray suits look like perfection, makes salmon pink look all-testosterone male and mouths some of the corniest lines ever - but with that crisp, delicious Brit accent which makes it sound so very devilish.

When I informed ISO that he reminds me of the cheating scumbag Alfie, he just gave me an exasperating grin and stole some popcorn.

Holiday destinations

Each time of the year around Spring/Summer, I get the urge to travel as I come from a long line of ancestors with wandering feet. Work starts getting dull and irritating, my temper starts to fray at the edges, and I know it's time to get packing. :) This year, I am weighing choices between Morocco, Turkey or Italy so it's probbaly whirling dervishes on marble floors, hunky Davids in Italian palazzos or sexy Sheikhs in dark souks...

Amazingly while looking for information on Turkey, I accidentally searched for Turkish hunk just for the hell of it, and guess what I found.. the heavenly Tarkan... someone really hot, gorgeous and supposedly, he can sing. Don't know if he's any good though but he seems to have lotsa fans. Hell, with that face and that body, I'm a fan myself! Certainly one very good reason to visit Turkey! :)

Wedding bells

At my age, it has become a regular deal during the occasional weekend to get a summons in the form of a red card. Those not inducted into the odd mysteries of Chinese culture would not recognise the frilly, lightly-scented red card as a wedding card. Although I do have colleagues and friends who see the alarming red card as a card calling for payment ( since most weddings require some token sum... cash, please, no cheques ), I find that I actually enjoy wedding dinners. Sure we get the regular questions about our perpetual bachelorhood but it's a time where we invariably meet classmates and friends from our childhood, people whom we'd find abnormally hard otherwise to get together.

And as usual, I find myself seated at the table for single people. For some reason, the organizers regularly try to match together everyone left single in their acquiantance by placing them in close proximity for hours - no doubt hoping that rubbing against each other in such a close space, sparks of chemistry would fly. At the last wedding, I found myself one of the few bachelors faced with a squadron of singleton ladies. A terrifying sight, to be sure :) Luckily enough, in a scene with shades of gay erotica, I actually found the time to slip away with one of the cuter groomsmen to get him hopelessly drunk.

One of these red cards came my way today. And oddly enough, it has me paired with Graceless Grace on the table. For reasons unknown to me, they have seen fit to join us in unholy matrimony. What are the odds that some hotheaded hunk would ride in on a Harley and drag me out by the hair? Gay weddings might still be illegal in most places but it certainly wouldn't stop me from donning a spiffy suit and planning a fabulous party to celebrate my nuptials :)

Blue briefs

God, the earlier post sounded almost like whining and it wasn't :) Honestly. But on a lighter note, I had something interesting happen that night too. The intern I mentioned earlier made quite a show in the changing room. For myself, I try to get my clothes on, throw on the damned flimsy blue scrubs that we wear at work ( honestly, I don't know what they are called till now! ). so while I was hopping through my pants, Yummy Yee comes in and starts talking.

And as his mouth starts babbling through a short litany of the troubles faced by overworked interns, I listened politely while trying very hard to keep my eyes of those abs I mentioned. But that was far from the end of it! When he tugged off those pants, I realized that white briefs were made for his ass. Smooth and round, tight and muscular, his butt was obviously made to be encased by skintight white cotton.



Oblivious to the fact that I was literally fighting to keep my tongue from falling out of my mouth, he continued talking half-dressed. What is it about gorgeous guys that keep them oblivious from the fact that they are being hopelessly ogled by lecherous men? Doesn't he know that I'm taller, bigger and I could easily wrestle him into the janitor's cupboard? :)

Bearer of bad tidings

Giving out bad news to relatives has never been easy for me. Being the bearer of such bad tidings comes as part and parcel of the job - especially in the area that I work in which is in the intensive care unit. Unfortunately in the intensive care unit ICU, death comes far easier and simpler than in other less critical areas. It is almost an everyday affair to see the orderlies dressed in white come in with their covered trolleys and the patient covered in a white sheet from head to toe leaving the ICU for the last time.

Had a really bad call just yesterday and the fact that I had two patients leaving made it much worse. Lectures and notes from medical school doesn't help much when it comes to grieving mothers crying silent tears on your shoulder. And hollow words of condolences doesn't help ease the misery written in the blank eyes of the members of the family.

Often my friends who are not in the same profession wonder whether we do feel anything. I think it would be a hard, coldhearted monster who could actually feel nothing in the presence of such palpable grief. I have heard some members of the staff accused of being cold and unfeeling but it certainly wouldn't do for the doctor and nurses to break into helpless tears at such a critical juncture either so we all adopt a calm, concerned demanour when there are some of us who are already moments away from joining in the tears.

The ageing process

When I first put on my white coat and joined the ranks of my colleagues in the hospital, I was actually reckoned, oddly enough, one of the youngest in my department. All my other colleagues were at the very least five or six years senior to me and I felt like a relative child - and quite a naive rube - in comparison. They seemed so much more knowledgeable and experienced than I was - while I still felt like a blind, stupid fool playing around with the lives of my hapless patients.

That was actually more than three years ago and it came as a relative shock to me when I realized that I had somehow turned into one of the seniors. That alarmingly ageing thought was brought painfully back to me when Yummy Yee, the intern I mentioned earlier, kept on referring to me as sir or boss and continued calling me with the prefix doctor despite my reassurances that he could call me by name. Not only did the sir immediately relegate me to the ranks of wizened old men with their cigars and smoking jackets, the fact that he constantly referred to me as an all-knowing, all-seeing prescient galled me to the bone. Didn't he know I was plainly a mindless, prattling fool who only wanted to get a hand down his tight pants? What the hell did I know about tuberous sclerosis? :)

Hot intern

What can I say? In my bid to get a real live-in boyfriend, I spent the day at work practising my skills - actually flirting with a hot young intern. Tall, dark, sexy ... and at least 5 years younger than me making me feel like an ancient crone. Surprisingly I had no admissions to the intensive care unit and everyone remained relatively stable that day - so while I sat around the counter staring at the monitors, I started a chat with the new intern, let's call him, Yummy Yee. It wouldn't have been all that difficult to push him into a janitor's room and have my way with him. :)

Although I admit I have to work up my abs to compare with his. Sure, my stomach's pretty flat but nothing to compare with his. How the hell do guys like him get abs like that?

And then later, I saw shades of that cutie in one of the characters I saw onscreen. He's a hot young Korean actor that I know only as James Kim. Plays a sexy, stubbled bad boy in Seoul Raiders, a new movie starring Tony Leung, Richie Jen and Shu Qi. Anyone out there have a pic to share?

Getting married?

What is up with the world - and my parents? I have to admit it's been a long while since I've been in a serious committed relationship. Perhaps once bitten ( by a sexy shark ) but I'm definitely not shy - which is why I'm still slowly treading my feet in the dating pond.

But it has obviously been long enough that my parents have obviously forgotten the fact that I'm gay. Last weekend, they dropped by my place for dinner and while I was chomping my way through a lovely meal, they made me cough up a crab claw by suggesting that I get married. To a woman.

For some reason, due to my perpetual state of bachelorhood they have come to the idea that my swinging gay days are a passing phase ( some hormonal imbalance perhaps? ) and it's time that I got back on the marriage mart again. Despite the fact that I have shirtless shots of Ironmen on my message board and a rainbow flag pinned on my white coat, they believe that I might shed my homosexual skin out of boredom and decide to go after one of the ladies they've paraded in front of me.

I do know that their intentions are good - and the fact that I'm still single at this time has left them worried but that doesn't mean I'm willing to go through a charade just to be with someone. Playing it straight has never worked for me - and though I tried going out on dates with girls way back in school, nothing ever happened. Well, we did trade tips on interior decorating and clothes ( and checking out the cute guys ) but I don't think that was what they had planned.

If being without someone significantly gay in my life for sometime has turned me straight, how do they account for the fact that I still get the tingles when I look at a shot of this? The man with the enviable abs, Chris Evans plays the role of the blond hottie, Human Torch in the upcoming comic book adaptation, Fantastic Four. One of the first comics I read as a schoolkid and I bet Johnny Storm has never looked this sizzling hot.

Now why won't he come over and turn me gay again?