I have my reservations about *ahem*

What defines your sexuality?

Just because you make delicate French pastries doesn’t make you, dare I say the taboo and highly derogatory term, gay? Can we only settle for butch “manly” cookies with chucks?

Are we only to settle for mind numbing, highly offensive novelty gangster rap?

Readily brushing aside intimate, introspective films and deeming them as inappropriate on the grounds that’s it’s effeminate to feel and empathize?

Recently Alex asked why on earth would I pay good money and go watch a sappy movie such as “No Reservations”. I threw the question back at him and asked why not? Is it because one might feel emasculated by the show? But of course a real man who is comfortable with his sexuality wouldn’t be unduly perturbed by a trivial movie. Since when did watching fantasy films of exotic girls with asses that wouldn’t quit become a measure of “macho-ness”? How is watching wrestling a litmus test of being heterosexual? Do we really need to watch sweaty men pitting sheer brute strength against one another with their writhing bodies theatrically thrown about to jolt the testosterones? If a film is all it takes to threaten one’s sexuality then I think we have a serious problem. We have to stop living the lie people. It’s quite laughable now that I’m penning it down on paper. It sounds absurd and exaggerated but that is exactly how people are reacting. It is the typical mould of how boys should and must be behave. A true man sheds blood, never tears. Yar if you like live in the Middle Ages where a careless brush against the hand of a woman is enough to make her pregnant.

What’s with the constant swearing and maniacal fervour of objectifying women? Alex asked if I could introduce him to the girls I know. I replied that they would probably be so soured by the experience that they would definitely become lesbians if they manage to survive the traumatizing ordeal of going on a date with him. Of course I didn’t mean it in an offensive way. All was done in good humour. You have to be in that moment to fully appreciate the spontaneity and genius-ness of the retort.

Of course there’re always two side to any situation and I’m sure I need not elaborate on what is considered as too sensitive although I must say the unwritten law of acceptable male social conduct needs to be updated pronto. People can be so shallow and narrow-minded at times.

Anyways i can't wait to watch "No Reservations". Joey says that Catherine Zeta-Jones baths her hair in cavier to keep it all black and glossy but it's like 700 plus per treatment. And she uses truffle oil too. Sounds like she's cooking her hair. Maybe she's taking her role too seriously. Haha. Rich people do find the strangest way to splurge. Sneaks on 21st July but i have to wait till 6 September before it shows here. Irritating. Grr...

I think i taste my shampoo

Of Sex, Drugs and Alcohol

Here’s a truncated version. The argument was more convincing and sounder in my head than on paper. Maybe it’s in the delivery.

What's with people trying to persuade me to go clubbing and drinking recently? Just because I have antediluvian ideas of fun, and yes I admit that I'm a little conservative, doesn't mean I'm not enjoying myself. What's so bad about having a picnic at the Botanical Gardens when the weather is more forgiving? Dozing off on the freshly cut verdant fields letting your senses be greeted with the voluptuous fragrance of a myriad of flora, or reading a book beneath the shade isn't so bad an idea right? Granted that the branch doesn't fall on you, you should be experiencing an afternoon of unadulterated bliss.

My introvert nature would definitely not auger well with the thumping beats of a club. The odious din of the music could be compared to tribal war drumming at best and it definitely is not conducive for conversations. The last thing I need is to have alcohol addle my brain, obscuring my ability to think rationally and having embarrassed myself for having stuck my tongue down the throat of a complete stranger or become loud and boastful and eventually finding myself at the disadvantageous end of a drunken brawl. Thing could be so much worse, imagine being so wasted that you end up hurling all over the place like a baby that isn't burped well. Having people pull your hair back as you vomit all the intoxicating alcohol with such ferocity that your head glistens with sweat. Better still waking to find yourself plagued with a terrible handover with no pieces of clothes covering your shame in the aftermath of a bacchanalian orgy.

Why do we have to abuse alcohol to achieve that elusive “high”? Why should we depend on alcohol to liberate our minds and to cast all our worries aside with gay abandon?

Having to concentrate on not stepping on others is hard work enough but to be distracted pushing away eager sweaty palms as they climb lustfully up your ass or thigh is a whole different ball game. I certainly don’t wish to feel somebody or something hard brushing up against my hip.

I don’t smoke like a chimney nor do I drink like a fish. So what do I do if I were to actually go? I’m too uptight and self conscious to go dancing and I’m terribly clumsy. I would just be wrecking everybody’s fun if I were to be let loose on the dance floor.

It's not that I'm bias against clubs. It's just that there are so many dodgy characters there and sexual promiscuous people there. Imagine sitting at the counter and being hit on by drunkards who can't even discern their right hand from their left let alone distinguish guys from gals. I want to hook up with a sugar-daddy or mommy, not a recovering alcoholic with a liver damaged from cirrhosis or intravenous drug user.

Care to join me for a drink? Tempting huh? Haha.