Pho Off

For those who seem to believe that the relationship I have with my ex, the infamous ISO, is absolutely hunky-dory with light and laughter, you'd be thoroughly mistaken.


Who's the villain here!
We do get occasionally fractious - though it's not often that we end up in fisticuffs ( we aren't rambunctious adolescents anymore after all! ) since the last time we indulged, it only ended in a dirty sordid December night far from Holy or Silent.

Even while we're travelling together ( why am I not travelling with my significant other Charming Calvin instead, you say? Long story behind that! ), we end up having the most peculiar conservations, terribly inappropriate filthy talk that no one should even think of having in a polite company. Even the impolite rabble would shudder at the thought, I'm sure. It's a wonder the well-set up police officers ( Yummmy..... ) here haven't decided to toss us in a shared cell for public indecency.

Then again they might fear getting too close to my ISO - who's been going around all day smiling licentiously at every available attractive man.

Paul : I hate you.
My ISO : Not what you said when you had your head down between my thighs.
Paul : That was two years ago. Don't incriminate me. They still have anti-sodomy colonial laws here, I'm sure.
My ISO : So? Was it because I dragged you to that river cruise?
Paul : No, I saw you half naked.
My ISO : Baby, that shouldn't make you angry. You've seen it all.
Paul : Baby this! How did you remain so slim, you bastard! You eat almost the same amount as I do.
My ISO : Note the almost.
Paul : Bitch. And you still have those pecs. You make me look like your Indon maid dammit!
My ISO : Think gym, morning jogs and taking stairs. And blisteringly hawt anonymous sex.
Paul : Bitchslut.
My ISO : You're still sleeping with me tonight.
Paul : Twin beds! Not together!

Now I know why we had several empty tables around us although the lil pho-selling shack by the river was relatively swamped with indigent hungry folk. Probably thought we were depraved capitalists there to corrupt the innocent.

Although some of the more muscle-bound innocents here certainly looked delicious enough to feast upon. Some of them so-called prawns they might be but hell, I'm starting to develop a seafood fetish.

Hell I could fuck them with the lights off. :P

The Magician

Look, I'm not a true believer in questionaires and quizzes but once you're caught with your hair in that steam iron thingie waiting for the dye to set in, there's nothing much to do except pick up the latest edition of Women's Weekly or such. And I gotta admit the girly mags are way more fascinating than Men's Health - and yeah, that's even with the delicious hunk on the cover.

So reading through girly magazines in the hair salon, I usually attempt two or three quizzes over how viciously I tear down others while climbing that career ladder or whether my best friend is trying to undermine me by stealing my boyfriend. Come on, how can you not resist those catchy captions...

Ten Ways to a Better Boyfriend
Get That Promotion, and the Man!

Or even better the sinfully shocking dramas unfolding within! The incestuous girl who slept with her half-brother! The tramp of a mother who seduced her daughter's husband! The naughty gal who crept downstairs to offer special services to her older neighbour while her mama slept soundly nearby! I mean, come on sometimes the overly dramatic family scandals can be better than Jerry Springer at his best - and we're all deeply appreciative voyeurs at heart.

See why those mags are such bestsellers?!

You are The Magician

Skill, wisdom, adaptation. Craft, cunning, depending on dignity.

Eloquent and charismatic both verbally and in writing,
you are clever, witty, inventive and persuasive.

The Magician is the male power of creation, creation by willpower and desire. In that ancient sense, it is the ability to make things so just by speaking them aloud. Reflecting this is the fact that the Magician is represented by Mercury. He represents the gift of tongues, a smooth talker, a salesman. Also clever with the slight of hand and a medicine man - either a real doctor or someone trying to sell you snake oil.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

I think I'm getting addicted to these quizzes. Isn't it amazing what you can find out with these quizzes? I mean, come on... it might be made for everyone but I gotta admit it hits pretty close!

Meme All About Me

Never thought to write a meme today but since I've virtually been ordered by Strapping Shane to comply to the urgent summons, I see no reason to argue. After all, all I did today was a perfectly mundane 5 km trek around town paying various bills shod in crappy painfully torturous shoes.

For those in a helluva rush to grow up to become an adult, watch and learn. Bills suck. Paying bills in crappy borrowed shoes suck even worse.

PART 1 : ON THE OUTSIDE

name : Paul, Saint Wicked.
date of birth : Easy enough to find since I've blogged about it once or twice, somewhere at the end of October.
current status : Uhh.. single but not exactly available. Resting in my bedroom watching DVDs while sending provocative sms to a select few - and obviously writing this post :P
eye color : Dark brown. Boring. Dull.
hair color : Serious black with tints of brown here and there from my last failed dye job. At least it's better than the brassy Ah Beng blond I once had.
right of left handed : Right handed. Though there are some activities I excel only with my left hand. :P
zodiac : Scorpio. Damn. I really blog lotsa stuff about myself.

PART 2 : ON THE INSIDE

my heritage : Plain Chinese ( mix of Foochow / Teochew ) with a dash of spicy Thai
my fear : Icky things - and the list of that seems to be growing. Maggots and worms and creepy-crawlies.
my weakness : Handsome boys with pretty eyes, preferably blue. Blue eyes and a stubble make me melt.
my perfect pizza : Eh. Not a fan. Can I skip this? Waitaminute, I recall the perfect pizza I once had with apples and cinnamon. Amazing.

PART 3 : YESTERDAY, TODAY AND TOMORROW

your first thought waking up : Fuck. I have bills to pay.
tomorrow : Lunch with my sweet Charming Calvin, hope he's not too grumpy from piling work and my interruptions :P...
your bedtime : God, Chris, you're hot. Oh, Mr Evans, do it again. Oh yeah, do it just like that.
most missed memory : That perfect summer getting my shoes shined in front of the ancient mosque with the taste of sweet Turkish Delight on my lips and the scent of the Marmara in the air.


Finally got the time to sit down and blog!!
Fucking tired from all the running around!
PART 4 : YOUR PICK

pepsi or coke : Is there anything else on the menu?
mcD or burger king : I'm lovin' it.
single or group dates : Both are fine. Depends on the company - and if it's lousy company, depends on the attractiveness quotient. They might be nasty fellas but at least I have something pretty to look at.
adidas or nike : At the moment? Neither. JM Weston.
lipton tea or nestea : Bleh. Plain water then.
chocolate or vanila : Death by Chocolate for me always.
cappuccino or coffee : Coffee strong enough to stand up and give ya that wake-up morning punch.

PART 5 : DO YOU...

smoke : Ten years back, tried it once. Haven't stopped coughing since. Didn't smoke since then either.
curse : In my head, yes. Otherrwise I'm as prim and proper as a convent novitiate.

PART 6 : IN THE PAST MONTH

drank alcohol : Yesterday evening, I did. Not to the point of inebriation though since I didn't have a hunky fella to drive me home. Sigh.
gone to the mall : On a daily basis. Sometimes twice. Sometimes even three times. Note that I'm a leading charter member of Shopaholics Anonymous ( unfortunately not kicking the habit ).
been on stage : Humiliatingly enough, yes.
eaten sushi : Sashimi. Yum. I can eat it raw with my hands like Gollum.

PART 7 : WHAT WERE YOU DOING

1 minute ago : Reading Strapping Shane's summons. I'm a speed typist.
1 hour ago : Had my dinner after a whole day of running errands on foot - since my car was being overhauled. Blegh mechanics but HOT salesmen.
4 1/2 hours ago : Watching my car being overhauled while reading Bet Me by Jenny Crusie. Serious demi-babe gets propositioned by Mr Beautiful. Wish I was her.
1 month ago : Thank God for blogging to jog my failing memory. God, I was actually out with Beercan Boy! You guys would be pleased to know he's single, off beercans and going clean.
1 year ago : Recovering

PART 8 : FINISH THE SENTENCE

i love : beautiful men. Preferably in my bed, naked, submissive, sweating.
i feel : wicked all the time. Only act on it quarter of the time - otherwise I'd have been stoned to death by furious vengeful villagers a long time ago.
i hate : bad drivers, stupid incompetence, lousy superiors, crappy on-calls, bad pay... etc. The list continues ad nauseam.
i hide : my more X-rated indescribably filthy thoughts. Come on, the blog is already semi-banned in certain conservative countries! Not sure how they even got wind of my little blog!
i miss : autumn in London.
i need : Chris Evans.

PART 9 : TAG FIVE PEOPLE

Come on, just do it for the fun of it :P Especially you, Charming Calvin. At least you get an update!

Post-Call Horniness Syndrome

I think perhaps I have to revise my seven seconds theory.

Honestly on mornings that I've just finished my call early in the wee hours, it's quite possible that I think about sex in intervals far shorter than the seven seconds I mentioned. I call it my Post-Call Horniness Syndrome. Makes me sound like a rampaging sex maniac doesn't it? Fortunately for mankind at large, I haven't actually lost my tenuous grasp on sanity ( and concern for my well-being ) to run around pillaging and molesting innocent, virile young villagers everywhere.

Kinda like the stud below.


Musn't think of sex. Musn't think of sex. Musn't think of sex!
In fact you'll find that most of the mornings I've mentioned are quite mundane without untoward incidents of sexual assault - since I actually find myself having leisurely breakfast dim sum with Charming Calvin. Of course my poor quietly smiling victim remains quite oblivious to the fact that he's just a hairsbreadth away from getting forcibly slammed and ravished mindlessly on the dangerously rickety table ( one short disproportioned leg propped up with bits of discarded newspaper ) amongst the steamed dumplings, the glutinous rice and the fragrant tea to the astonishment of the horrified patrons - and some of the more delicious waiters. Fortunately for his easily bruised dignity and the propriety of the respectable establishment, I usually refrain from such wild animalistic urges, usually due to the fact that I'm far too exhausted the morning after to do anything more strenuous than lift my chopstick.

Of course sometimes after being adequately revived by a decent repast, I still manage to drag him back to his cave - even before he finishes his glutinous rice ( a must for the Hakka boys! ) - just to enact my horny caveman routine of the beast with two backs. Grr... Sweaty... Hot... Mate...Now...

Really. Don't worry, I'm not the only guy to mismatch unusual euphemisms for sweaty mind-blowing sex. Seems like ever since Jaunty Jared has met his match, he's been coming up with all sorts of unusual - though surprisingly original - euphemisms for getting jiggy with it.

Paul : So when will you be arriving? Are you with him?
Jared : Yeah, we're taking a brief nap.
Paul : A nap? Huh.

Paul : So what happened then? Did you talk to him about the problem?
Jared : No, I gave him a hug.
Paul : A hug? Huh.
Jared : Really. He was deeply appreciative of the gesture.
Paul : Yeah, I bet he was.

Paul : When is he coming back?
Jared : Maybe this weekend, he has a special personal project to fulfil.
Paul : And you're the satisfied client?

Obviously Jared is getting some.

Occasionally feinting a headache - usually coinciding with public displays of inappropriate affection, our Victorian prude Charming Calvin finds me terrifyingly oversexed ( is three times day unreasonable? ) while I find him quite the opposite. :) Shockingly enough, the man claims not to think of sex at every available moment! Sometimes he even thinks of other mundane personal matters like bills and such. You can imagine that I stared at him in bewildered consternation since half the time even during a movie I can barely concentrate since I'm thinking of shoving him down between the seats for some hasty backseat nookie. Hell, a half-way decent hottie strolls by and it's all I can do not to slam him against the nearest wall and hump him.

Maybe Calvin's right :P I'm a sexaholic. I blame the Post-Call Horniness Syndrome. Now how am I gonna fit in extra sessions between my Shopaholics Anonymous?

Tyra Banks This

Sometimes things occur so providentially that I can't help but write about it - and lately it seems as if Big Bicep Barry's gotten himself involved in all sorts of queer shenanigans. Guess the man just needs something to keep him occupied through the week till our ( admittedly increasingly rare ) weekend movie nights.

Of course since our man's the gregarious sort, he doesn't find himself short of company - though his bunch of good-time cronies just doesn't seem to frequent cinemas possibly because they are too busy peddling pirated DVDs I suspect. Or busy urging tipsy clients to continue plying their karaoke gals with overpriced alcoholic drinks. Well obviously the criminally-inclined bunch do find other legal activities to fill their time during the day since one of their number actually sponsored Big Bicep Barry as an emcee for a fashion show with a walk-on spot on the runway himself.

Barry : So how? Any tips?
Paul : Like I'm a huge Tyra Banks izzit?
Barry : Well I know you're a fan of America's Next Top after all.
Paul : Funny. All I can say is... be fieeeerrrcceee....
Barry : And how would I do that?
Paul : Going in a sleeveless tee, flexing your arms and pouting would do it.
Barry : Contrary to the rumours you're spreading around, I'm not a gigolo.
Paul : Is it modelling for Aussiebum? 2xist? Ginch Gonch?
Barry : Hardly! You think Janice Dickinson would take me in? BTW I'm vaguely disturbed by your knowledge of underwear.

Unfortunately no, we won't be seeing him strut his stuff in skimpy wonderjocks anytime soon.


Watch me on Janice Dickinson's!
Sigh.

But that's not the shocking part of course. What stunned me was the fact that Barry actually turned in to watch America's Next Top Model. Seriously how gay is that! Well only as gay as watching Janice Dickinson's trials with her new ( but unashamedly gorgeous ) models. What next? Watching Queer Eye?

The things you learn when you pay attention. And here I haven't even mentioned that he's actually attending a motivational course this weekend :p