Guess Who's Coming to Town

A friend just mailed me his halloween photos. I thought they were hilarious.

Terms & Conditions

To be "in" in HongKong, a friend said, you must be:
1. Below 100 pounds (45 kgs), no matter how tall you are.
2. Have the latest manicure/pedicure (the latest trend being acrylic nail polish in purple).
3. Have the latest designer bag.

If you fail in any of these departments, be warned that your chances in snatching a man will diminish.

Do I care to fit in the "requirements"?

I think there are better and more important things to do in life.

Jingle Jingle

Walk past any shopping streets and you can hear the irritatingly cheery and annoyingly jingly jingle bells and other christmassy tunes already. Well, considering we are only forty days away from Christmas.

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way..." I imagine bosses of department stores, fat and with cigars in between their lips, merrily jingling all the coins in their leather pouches. What's with all those tunes? Once again for another forty straight days we will be subjected to those torturous tunes. Not only are they repetitive and vomit-inducing after a while, in some instances it raises your blood pressure and makes you feel like stepping on the next person's shoes.

The tunes were supposed to evoke a christmassy feeling, hypnotising anyone within its reach into consumption-compulsive zombies, succumbing to marketing geniuses who hail christmas as a time for giving. Those tunes make you forget that you hated your boss and that you would really like to kick your colleagues in the arse. Instead you are filled with a frenzied need to give, give and be loving to all. I made that mistake once, years ago.

I think sometimes we all need to feel that lovey-dovey no war all peace sort of feeling. And all those non-stop happy jingles and people rushing doing their shopping does make one want to be part of the maddening crowd.

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring
Snowing and blowing up bushels of fun
Now the jingle hop has begun!

Scandals and Accusations

Last week my mom and brother were in town. One evening after a lazy dinner they were rummaging through the DVD drawer when my sis ran up to my mom, pointed her finger at me and told my mom that I have in my possession, a sick, perverted and humanely deprived DVD whose rightful place should only be in a rubbish chute.

I had a hunch on which DVD she was referring to and quickly grabbed the said DVD into my hand.

My sis said, "It is so sick I almost threw it after watching it halfway!"

I stuttered, "Why did you even watch it? Didn't you see the cover?" By the cover I mean the cover depicting a group of males and females crawling on their knees, naked except for the chain collars and leashes on their neck. With a cover like that, I wouldn't expect a slapstick comedy or a touching human drama out of it.

"Well, you put it in the drawer so of course I was going to watch it!" my sis defended.

You see, in April a friend of mine lent me a Paolo Pasolini DVD that he managed to get his hand on when he was in Italy. He cautioned: there is no English subtitles. I said, fine, I think I'll do fine with the Italian subtitles.

The movie is based on a book by Marquis de Sade, whose name gave birth to the term sadism. Titled Salo' o le 120 Giornate di Sodoma (120 Days of Sodom), I thought anyone in their right mind would get an idea of what the movie is all about. Sade, sadism, sodom. You get the drift. In fact, the film maker was murdered after making this movie.

Of course with a movie like this, I couldn't have possibly watched it when my dad or my mom or my brother is in town visiting. I can't possibly pop the DVD into the player and watch some depraved S&M on the big screen with my dad and my mom walking past the living room every few minutes.

My sis has been taking a break from her job so she too is at home almost everyday. I couldn't have possibly watched it too when she's around. What would she think of me?

Also, I need to watch this movie with someone. The subject of the movie is too disturbing for me to watch it by myself and have no one to discuss it with afterwards.

Hence, I have been keeping this difficult movie in the drawer for months. The thought that my sis would pop it in the DVD-player like any other DVD never once crossed my mind.

"Mom," my sis continued, "That is one sick movie. People being tortured and treated like animals and all that!"
My brother looked at me,"What sort of sick movie is that you're watching?"
"How could you watch that type of movie?" my mom asked.

I tried to explain that that was my friend's DVD and I merely borrowed it but that I haven't even get to watch it. I tried to explain that the director made it based on a famous writing by a famous French writer. I tried to explain that I borrowed it out of curiosity.

But there under the glaring living room light my explanations fell on deaf ears.
My mom shook her head. My brother gave me a disapproving look. My sis kept repeating that the DVD should be thrown away. There under the glaring light I felt like a sadist who have just been found out. At the back of their heads my family think that they've got a sick daughter who is into sado-masochism and perversion. I felt like an accused.

That I have a pair of pointy knee-length black leather boots with 4-inch-heels in the drawer didn't help.

Let's Waste Time

..chasing cars
around our heads..

Trolls and Ghouls' Night Out

While the trolls and the ghouls were out on Halloween weekend night painting the club scenes red, there I was in my room packing my day bag and preparing for bed. Halloween weekend should mean a night out partying. Call me lazy but I couldn't give a damn. I'll trade a night out painting the town red in second-hand smoke galore with fresh ocean air anytime.

I had envisioned a quiet (okay: boring) Sunday ahead. Robby is in Bali, stranded in a deserted nusa dua beach. My mates were all up surfing since Friday. I thought I could just live out my Sunday in peace. But I had to be honest to myself.

So after waving innocent goodbyes to my mom and bro being whizzed away in a cab to the airport at the gates at 5.30AM, I quickly changed and by 6AM whizzed away in Keith's car. As we drove past the streets we saw the ghouls and trolls from last night, looking exhausted from all those fumigation; their horns crooked, their wings lopsided.

It was strange that as their days ended ours had just begun. I felt smugly superior that while they will spend their Sunday recuperating, I will be in the ocean riding waves. But I bet they don't give a damn.