Manspas attract Man who love Man?

These days, life really has in store closets of mini surprises for me....
now zipping up any loopholes, I am not gay as this title suggests.
Just only about 2 weeks back, all I did was to write an innocent email prayer to my friends, and to my disbelief, an innocent email prayer conjured up many words of encouragement from my friends...

They pointed me, (with God's Help) that I could possibly dabble with the idea
of being a freelance commerical copywriter...

And therefore, the geeky me, told myself, why not....its worth a try anyway.

So following this will be a first entry, as I attempt to do a pseudo sample for my portfolio
to show the advertising companies.

Strange, but as my thoughts flow with silk like smoothness..... I found myself, writting about
a spa for Gays........

Lord, forbid..... its only a trial piece.... so here goes


"" At Manspa, discover the essence of a truly sensory "Spa Lifestyle.
Our Massages and Rare Essential Oil treatments gently removes the daunting demands of a busy daily life. Experience moments of melodious pleasure and peaceful serenity as our expert male therapists serenade your tensed nerves through elegantly choreographed massage styles.

And feel the immense pleasure of soaking in our skin pampering silk milk bath laced with
dead sea salt. Lay back, as the soothing music captures your imagination, as therapeutic
imported Persian aromas allures your soul, and slips you into a dream state, where soul
leaves the weary body, and floats in melodious harmony, ridden of all burdens.

Enjoy the serene company of fellow beautiful metrosexuals. Feel rejuvenated and revitalized from our extensive range of alluring signature spa treats, a perfect marriage of Western and Asia Spa luxury.

Well-equipped with lavish spa facilities and state-of-the-art Technology, come ease
your stress, and indulge in an exclusive experience of spa heaven. Be spoilt with a hard earned rest and pamper yourself with our exquisite personalized treatments.

Be with Beautiful Men here.
Visit Manspa for an immaculate and arousing spa escapade. """"

I violated her. I forced it on her

she is whimping from the forceful entry.
There are knocks and twistings. wonder how she can take the shock?

There were others looking

Will she hate me for that forceful entry?
I hope she will be stronger after this.
I know I should have restrained my urges to do it onto her.
But desire got the better of me.
Desire consumed me, like fire devouring wood to flare.
Yet, I was the one fanning the desire.

But my poor her, she had no say.
She simply laid there speechless, unable to move,
As I placed inside her a gush of what I should never have done in the first place.

When the deed was done, I asked myself and wondered what will be our future?
Will she forgive me, and still be with me?
I hate to bear the tot that a scar will be carved...
I hate to think she might not survive the attack.

Again, I only hope she will be stronger.

I Feed my her industrial diesel today... $0.83 per litre.....
This "her" is my Renault Kangoo

Van versus Car 

Van can be Car?

Phua Van will always be a Phua Van.
(Low Class Vehicle will always be a Low Class Vehicle)

Recently, our local gahment seems to have gone bonkers (or so it seems on the wry surface), where breasts exposed in public used to be a hush hush thing, too taboo to be even talked about, is now the hype of the town. Oh Yeah, artistic breasts soon to slush, and jug its way into the self professed Art Scene in our little Neh-sion. But hold on a second, with distaste on our lips,” What Art Scene?” Perhaps pathetic is a really appropriate word at this juncture. Fellow brethren of the Neh-sion I lived in will probably relate better to the pathetic attempts by our local gahment to mimic and try to catch up to be on par with the international Art Scene. It’s like trying to pass off a lousy SWATCH watch as a ROLEX.

Anyway, still we are obligated to give applauses to their attempt. Must give, lor. Scholastic People of the PAPish system really do try hard lor. These people really got give their unappreciated best lah.

So let’s swoosh our minds back to the breasts. Tender, bouncy and yes Artistic….
Artistic is the word designed to describe the latest Entertainment in Town, to mask and hide the fundamental truth that it is pornography in base form…..

Yes, the Crazy Horse Cabaret is coming here all the way from Paris…. All the Caucasian women will be here to wiggle their breasts, and tout their taut bodies in front of a captivating audience….opps.. or rather, an audience there to be captivated by the performers’ breast. Or rather in the real true, an audience to glimpse at nipples which is a rare sight in a not-so-much freedom Neh-sion.

You must understand that Our Neh-sion is a sexually deprived Neh-sion.
You can be charged and jailed for possessing even a stupid PLAYBOY magazine.
The slightest cleavage one can glimpse can set a citizen’s libido on flames, that it sometimes self consume the peeping Tom……
And Sighted Nipples underneath shirts without bras, are always the hot pressed topics of the day. Someday, I must really think of a way to convert this interesting phenomenon into a concept for advertising revenue ( but seriously, what’s the big deal about wearing a tee shirt with out a bra)
Anyway, True Story, and no joke okay…….

And dun even think about chewing gum in this Neh-sion… cos you could end chewing the bars in the gallows. And these are metallic in nature.

And So This is the Neh-sion at the Southern part of Asia.

Liberalization is Yahoo, to some.
Bane to others……. Pastor, Taoist Priest, Hindu Priest, Buddhist Monks….. inclusive.

Anyway, I am not interested in that show….. and will not elaborate on moral, religious ground, or political field….lest, I end up either being crucified, burnt, or having oil from hell poured on me. Somehow, all religions have their individual grotesque way of punishing dissidents. Which is your preference?

All right, snapping back. Was jus trying to show the correlation to the interesting phenomenon that our Neh-sion is in a transition stage, where some folks benefit, and some loathe the changes.

Well, keeping A Cup, B Cup, C Cup and D Cup breasts aside, I for sure, certainly did benefit from the relaxation attitude taken by our local gahment.

The Spillover effort is great. Suddenly overnight, what previously if done by you considered treason is now something which will not end you up in prison. Okay, I exaggerated, yes I bullshit about treason….

Tap!
Tap!
Tap!

**** Silence Please!...I am roaming my eyes around China Town Point, where I am now…And I see ISA man walking**** It’s a gifting I have**** and please dun pour your jealousy of my gifting all over me****
**** ISA guys looming around **** so must change track now to Kangoo ****I will come back to the earlier flow of tots later****


You see, for 2 years, I have been driving a Kangoo……
Albeit it’s the Van version, its good transport at affordable loan, easy maintenance and great traveling convenience.


Yet, it’s not the best of best. Kangoo Vans have blind spots which seriously can land you in hot accidents if you have the slightest lapse of concentration while you drive.
And also, folks being folks tend to look down on you, while you drive a van. Irregardless of whether you are rich towkay, or big time businessman driving it, so long as you are seem driving it, you are deemed and judged delivery man…..

And more often than that, if people see you emerging from a van, the preferred choice of language that they will use to converse with you, is typically Hokkien. Dunnoe why also? But somehow, the word “Ah Beng Delivery Man” (uneducated Chinese delivery man) seems to get hot stamped onto the foreheads of Van Drivers

So when the gahment suddenly do a U-turn and flip over 180 degrees, and announced that the back metal panel of the van can be removed for installation of windows, you can seriously imagine my elation. Boy, the word Yahoo….. would seem so mild here.

It should be “Hallelujah”, the rhythm of 1000 jumps up and down.
Goodbye to the Van stigma and hurray to the cheap skate but passable imitation of a passenger car.

And so my heart struggled and struggled…. To do or not to do…… to still remain as a labeled “Ah Beng”, or to get new windows to make the Van looked like a passenger car?
Checked with Renault Service Center. They plotted a daylight robbery and quoted 700 SGD
for two panel change. And then they moved on to the butchery, and quoted 1400 SGD for 4 panel change.

Decided to check with my wife, “Would it be a good idea to convert the metal panels into windows?”

To that, my wife, made submissive by the Lord Jesus Christ, said,” Dear, as you wished. Because although it might introduce rust, attract car burglars, present risk of stones smashing your newly fixed windows, please go ahead, for Jesus said,’ Wives, submit to your husband.’”

“Aww….hey, that “really” seems so helpful.”

Tilting my head, as I awaited her reply, an overflowing beam of enthusiasm in her eyes betrayed her eagerness to try it out too…..

So on the 1st June 15, 2005….. Kangoo Van was given a decent burial with courtesy of my desire to morph her.

Radiating with self afflicted pride and joy, I gotten my own workers to do up the panels, and within 24 hours, I drove my newly appointed car….the KANGOO CAR out onto the streets….

Hallelujah to the Gahment, for adopting a sucking up approach to A-Mar-Ri-Ke’s FTA agreement, and its attached condition of market liberation. The spillover efforts of the FTA are tremendous.

Anyway, drove down to Shenton Way to pick up my wife….
Parked my NEW CAR, saw a friend…..
Tot of it as a chance to show off….. and bask in expected praise and awe from this friend……

Was about to open my mouth…..to him in English

Too Late…..

Friend spoke first………in Hokkien

“Wah lau, Ah ni gu bo kwa deo re…..si key doe lor?” (Man, been so long since I last saw you, where have you been?)


Wahkauz, once you drive a Van, you are forever a Delivery Man.

Regrets in life

You have been forewarned, this entry is not for those with preference in perfect world indulgence. Leave while you still can.



Sometimes, in moments of grief, there presents a slight surprise of a light moment which does spurs up one’s spirits.

Exactly what is that? Well, you have to work hard and read on in order to find out.

Last Sunday was an extremely sad day for me. I had promised my bereaved father to go down to my Grandmother’s house. And yes, I am bereaved too. We were supposed to clear my Grandmother’s belongings before we submissively return the passive keys to our local government.

Guess those amongst you reading this blog, non-intellectually challenged, probably know by now, why are we in bereavement.

Yes, my beloved Grandmother has passed away. In ways so fast, that shock was felt but not understood. Death came to her like a Thief of the Night. Yes, and I do admit that despite being supposed to have overcame the grief, I am still struggling within my inner walls. Every reminisce of her slits knives of hurt into my heart. Tearing me each time, I remember her. Invoking memories of her caring for me when I was still a toddler. Reminding me of her piggy backing me to the docs whenever I was sick and too weak to move my limbs. As a small but obese kid , my Grandmother carried me for 10 streets to school, and many more streets to the doctors.

And yes, as a man. I have been taught by the secular world to bleed than to weep. But how my heart yearns for her…… I Miss Her.

So Grandma, wherever you may be now, if you can read this,
“I really miss you”

Pa had called me up last week, “Son, the HDB wants us to return your Grandma’s rented flat back to them. So I need your help to help clear some of your Grandma’s items.”

With hesitation, “ Sure Pa, I will certainly avail myself.” How could I bear to let my Father who lost her mother to go to my Grandma’s house alone, and grieve in solitude loneliness, as he clears my Grandma’s possessions.

My Sweetheart, being a great wife, volunteered to help out in the clearing of items. In fact, even without the labour offered, its heart warming enough by just standing beside my grieving father in times like this.

So we met on Sunday, opened the once well greased door. Everything seems to have die along with my Grandma. Even the door. My younger Brother came along too….
And in no time we started our task. But the time was long. And its much longer than we could have bear. Little did we know that we will be emotionally torn as we proceed with our task

My eyes scrolled the entire living room, and floods of past events just start gushing in. Suddenly, I remember the good old times in this living room during Chinese Lunar New Year, when my Grandma will gaily host the reunion dinner, where we will all get to taste all her cuisines, accumulated from friends and experience over the years. Thinking as I write now, my emotions are bleeding from knowing that I will no longer get to drink her tonic soups, her braised chicken, her pig intestine stew………..soft potatoes stewed in dark sauce……no more……..

No more……………

And Forever no more…………….

“Darling, I will be throwing all these.” My wife’s voice snapped me out of my depressed trance. “Yes Dear, guess all those disposable plates and utensils left behind by my Grandmother will have to be disposed. They have turned yellow over the years.”

Simple sentence, but yet it carried the power to rob me of my joy in life, and replaced it with regrets in life. How I wish I can keep everything that my Grandmother left behind. How I wish that I need not throw away anything at all. Yes, I kept some of the items for me to remember my Grandmother. But still, I wished I could have the means to keep all.
How I wish I could keep everything of hers with us.

So, this wish seems doomed for death right for the start.

For I have no house of my own that I can call my own. And my father has no house of his own that he can call his own. Similarly, my brother has no house of his own that he can call his own. We are all prisoners of our own individual circumstances. There was no way we could have kept everything by our side, try as we might, but the word futile is a bigger Might here. Wouldn’t elaborate on it though.

And so with heavy hearts, we demolished what was so familiar to us and what was so dear to us. And with each gathered bag of items to be disposed, more regrets are drummed into our hearts.

But what choice do we have?
The Government wants the flat back. And we couldn’t squeeze one whole house items into another house.

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Actually I really wanted to pen more and end this blog on a happier note…….
But I am affected at this juncture…….

So allow me to stop for a while, while I recompose myself.

To all of you out there, treasure your loved ones while they are alive.