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Thursday, March 20, 2008
Music is the Victim


I've been reading on a couple of blogs recently about people's various coming-out experiences. Naturally, this made me re-address the fact that I'm not out to anyone in my family, and of course it made me wonder why. A couple of people had written about how they expected all hell to break loose, and for them to be thrown out of the house. In a few rare instances, something close to this happened, but many authors narrated how their parents were understanding and supportive, and accepted it as a part of life, and as a part of their child.



Being gay, Indian, and Catholic is not a nice combination. I'm from a place in India called Mangalore, where marriage is the most important thing in the world, with Uncle Wilfy's secret kulfi ice-cream running in a close second. For my parents, grandchildren are the ultimate 'sign' that God has blessed their lives. They already have 2, but for them that's only the start - we are 4 kids after all. But if I were to tell them that I don't want to get married (at least not in the traditional sense), that would be bad enough. But to top that by saying "I'm gay", really wouldn't help much. I guess I'm not so scared about what they will say or do, but I'm rather terrified about how this new found information will be used by people who catch wind of it. Gossip spreads quickly, and before you know it, we will be subjected to the knowing stares and whispers as we walk into the church compound. My mom's life especially hasn't been too great, and I really don't want to put her through the added agony of dealing with this. For me, I think I see coming out from a 'benefit' angle - i.e if I tell my parents I'm gay, what will they get out of it? As it stands, our live are pretty stable, and really I won't stand to gain anything out of telling them I'm gay (well apart from feeling much more relaxed and liberated). My friends tell me that sooner or later my parents are going to find out, and I totally agree with them, but for the moment I think we'll keep living in this plastic bubble of life.


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Saturday, March 15, 2008
La Bamba
Men weren't designed to read things. Period. Be it a road sign, a book of assembly instructions, or even how to operate the washing machine, men don't like to read. Most men will just dive right into something with all guns blazing, and only after several failed attempts will they sheepishly say "Hmm..okay just pass me the instructions - maybe they're doing it differently". To me, instructions for assembling furniture are the worst. There's always a rod, socket, pole, or screw involved, and frankly by the time you go through the damn thing, you feel like you've just read a chapter of the Karma Sutra - "Insert rod C firmly into hole D and screw tightly" Can you possibly read that sentence with a straight face?

Today I hooked up with this chap who had sent me a few photographs last week to see if I wanted to meet him. He seemed reasonably intelligent and was actually quite cute, with a slim figure to boot. So I said yes, and made my way over to his place. This is kind of where the twilight zone kicked in - once I actually got to his place and he opened the door, I was greeted by a man in his mid 30s, with protruding belly, wearing a singlet and grey spotted VIP Frenchie underwear. If there ever was a time where I wished God would hate me for being gay and strike me with a lightning bolt, this was it. And going back to my previous post about how I loathe body hair, when this guy actually took his kit off, I felt like I was going down on freaking Diana Ross.

I think I've died and gone to gay heaven. - I'm totally excited about a new store that I've discovered, called dklozet. Talk about some saucy stuff!

Oh btw, I've added a fancy new rotating header image thingy to the site - do you likey my kittens?


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Sunday, March 09, 2008
Whenever Wherever
I'm not a fan of body hair - period. The only place I'd like hair to be is on top of my head - no where else. So being as gay as I can be, I shave pretty much whatever else I want to when the time comes. Especially when I'm going on a date. So to ease my shaving blues a bit, I picked up a new toy today:


Yes it does look like something out of a Star Trek movie, but this is the new Philips Bodygroomer, the ultimate accessory in the fight against male body hair. Tell you what though, it's easy to get carried away with this thing - it shaves so cleanly and quickly that in no time you're running the damn thing all over the place. It can nip your chest hair, underarms, back, and even your cul de sac. What I found so cute was a bold line in the instruction booklet that said "Do not use this device to remove facial hair". Er - after where I've put this thing, I doubt it's going anywhere near my face.

In other news, apparently Shakira has decided that she doesn't need high tech equipment, wardrobe, choreographer, dancers, or lighting to make a music video. All you need is some stuff left over from Hairspray, some cling film, and a handycam. Check out her video below - it's enough to make a straight man go gay.



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