On the Manhunt

Where were you yesterday morning? If you were going by Sri Hartamas, you might have chanced to see two guys walking down the sidewalks after a heavy ( albeit carnivorous ) brunch. One of the duo tall, husky and good-looking while the other's considerably less attractive, shorter and dumpier.

Let me give you a clue. If I was tall, husky and good-looking, this blog would have evolved far differently - certainly would have been chock-full of daily cam-whoring no doubt :) And more than a few Not Safe For Work pics.


On the manhunt...
Get close enough to the squabbling duo and you might have heard them arguing over numerous philosophical topics ranging from troubled mothers in neverending rehab to cockrings that sting.

My ISO : Hey you going to Gwen Stefani?
Paul : Wasn't thinking about it but since the little protest, I've been dying desperate to go.
My ISO : Naughty boy. Damn, would you look at that? Nice ass.
Paul : No wonder we broke up, you obviously have a fetish for the infantry.
My ISO : Getting catty in your old age?
Paul : Says the guy born in July.
My ISO : We are aging, aren't we?
Paul : Far from gracefully too.
My ISO : Hell, he can't be less than 20.
Paul : Please, that child's not even finished with secondary.
My ISO : You're just torturing me.
Paul : It's a hobby of mine.

Which is the story of how two grown men accosted a relative prepubescent to ascertain his age. Poor boy. The wholesome rice-fed twink never saw the assault coming - and probably thought we were two indecent, perverted gay chicken hawks out to score with some youthful, nearly ripe manflesh. Well he wouldn't be far wrong.

I was reluctantly impressed to say the least.

Not by the nubile jailbait though. See, my ISO can put on this posh Brit-prep-school accent that he picked up while studying abroad ( if you can call getting drunk while making the rounds through the gay bars studying! ). Using his befuddled-tourist-vaguely-lost pretext, my ISO managed to demonstrate his vaunted charm, getting the boy to point out directions to places he already knew by heart ( since he stays barely a stone's throw away ) while slowly digging out points of interest to him - namely the kid's age and contact number.

A slick professional at work obviously.

After about five minutes of relentless flirting and enthusiastic hand gesturing though, he came back to me with some consternation ( if not frustration ) clearly written on his dark features.

My ISO : Fuck.
Paul : Ah. Straight?
My ISO : Yeah. What's the world coming to?

Well not everyone scores all the time.