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Okay. To my utmost surprise, I have received a number of text messages and emails about my previous post, mostly along the lines of Who is he? Do I know him? But he's Straight! etc etc. So, to answer all of your questions, I've come up with a little list that should help you understand my situation a bit more:

Why I want a Straight Man

1. He won't be sleeping around with any men. That includes me.
2. I'm gay enough for the both of us.
3. I have no problem letting him do all the DIY while I do the cooking.
4. He is straight enough for the both of us.
5. I will only need him to occasionally kill a bug or help carry groceries.
6. He just has to be around. I like the thought of having a man in the house whom I haven't paid for.

Now really, I could go on with this, but I shall leave the floor open to more suggestions...

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I have COASG - the infamous bug that hits many a gay man. The Crush On A Straight Guy bug.


Okay, you can stop friggin laughing now. *scowl*

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:-)

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I really hate some of the print adverts I see - mostly because they are so good at sending their message across. For example, this week I saw a print ad for Arrow underwear for men, and I was gawking so much at the model wearing them that I drove to Lamcy Plaza on my way back from work to pick up a pack of their hipster briefs. Now I have perfectly laundered underwear, but nooo, I had to let the evil demons of marketing get into my head. Or maybe it was just my hormones.

Here's something to chew on - is it totally unethical to sleep with a client's brother who made it a point to talk to you and note down your personal mobile number, and who was wearing the tightest white tee exposing his rather well built chest, and jeans that clearly revealed him to be the python-hiding brute that he is?

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Almost every person I know has some quip or the other about banks. Ever notice that at the counters there are more clerks taking people's money than dishing it out? Today I decided to pop down and go cash in my expenses check, simply because I wasn't aware that I could just deposit the check straight away into my account with my own bank. Anyhoo, arrive at said bank only to find that there is one teller open, and there are like 35 people waiting in two lines. So pop in my earphones and listen to sweet sweet music and wait patiently in line. Arrive at the counter, cash in my check, and was out in a flash.

My ass.

Here's what really happened. Got in line only to realize that the woman in front of me had conveniently decided to bring her hyperactive 5 year old along. The damn kid was swing around her with his arms stretched out, missing my crotch by a few inches several times. Not to mention her pathetic attempts to keep him entertained, which involved playing peek-a-boo with her dupata. After enduring this bloody torment, finally reach the counter and the idiot says that the "system is not working, you will have to come back later". You lameass, that's the excuse I use when things break down at my office. Twenty minutes in that damn queue and now he tells me this. If you ask me, you're what's wrong with the damn system. Also, I think that we should have separate queues to speed things along if divided as follows:

- brainless mother and hyper child
- men who think wearing a white nightgown entitles them to jump the queue
- woman who pleads "I will just take two minutes" before its your turn, then proceeds to bring out the whole bank staff

Finally I was so fed up, I just crossed the road to my bank, inquired at customer service, and had deposited the check in 10 minutes flat. Plus, I did it through a machine - no incompetent tellers involved.

NB: No tellers were harmed for this blog post. However, some were bruised or may suffer first degree burns.

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This has been an absolute manic week for me, which explains my late blogging entry. Plus, I haven't quite been my 100% self either, so forgive me my loyal readers.

Life was so much simpler when I was a kid. Or even just a teenager. You'd get up, get to school, get good grades, meet friends once a week and be home by 9pm, and repeat. There couldn't be a simpler lifestyle than that of the growing teenager. Plus, you don't have all these complications involving men. Growing up, men were just a figment of my hyperactive imagination - I never really put any thought into actually dating one of them when I grew up. I just assumed that the first guy I met would be the right guy for me, and even if he wasn't I'd find someone else quite easily. Heck, I used to buy the Zest Lemon soap in the hopes that if I scrubbed hard enough, the hot naked guy in the TV adverts would pop out of my sponge.

So Muffin was talking about how annoying it is to have a crush on a straight guy. Tell me about it - I'm still trying to get over Baan. But seriously, I think this is just nature's way of getting back at us cute, single, successful gay guys - by dangling all these cute men in front of us, like some sort of twisted forbidden-fruit scenario. Today evening I saw the cutest guy in a mall food court, and I wanted to jump him and dry hump him till kingdom come.

You know how we try our best to avoid the things that remind us of our exes? Well this week on the radio I heard a song that I used to share with an ex, and believe it or not, I had to go to the bathroom and blubber like a baby for two whole minutes. Sometimes I wonder why I take this 'single' thing so hard on myself. Probably because I'm surrounded by all the supposedly happy straight couples, and that just pisses me off some more. Of course, seeing Britney divorce has put a small smile on my face. I can almost hear what my mum would say - "Divorce? So sad, no?"

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First Robbie Williams, now this chap. If Kylie comes next, I'm going to be speechless.

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