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Vanity

Friday, April 6th, 2007

blocked in china

Wednesday, March 14th, 2007

this “baby” of mine is currently being blocked in china. it’s been two weeks already. it happened before but it came back after few weeks of “hiatus.”

i dunno what the hell is going on here but for sure, The Great Firewall is blocking some deliciously-masturbating websites like mine. my mouth’s always full of invectives everytime i check.

thanks goodness for proxy servers. it’s just sad that i can’t update much. it’s fucked up and i don’t even know if this entry will get through when i click the save button soon.

anyway, for my fans (if ever there are), you can still read me @ http://alainsojourner.blogs.friendster.com/my_blog/

i’ll see you there.

Back to School

Monday, March 5th, 2007

Spring semester begins today.

Obviously, it’s back to the cold, four-walled classroom with students waiting to exhale.

After almost seven weeks of unpaid vacation, I’m armed with enthusiasm to ask the expected question, “What did you do on your vacation?” If they don’t understand the query, I’ll say, “What’s did you do on your holidays?”

If they still don’t get it, I’ll lick my own ass like I lick a peanut butter.

And guess what. I did say the rephrased question in my class with the lowest IQ. Boy, I wrote the word vacation on the board and only one student got it but was not even sure of the meaning.

Man, I wanted to wrangle all of them.

They heard and read it before. What the…?

If you trust my memory, a few of them said they stayed home and did nothing and when they say nothing they mean: eating, watching TV, playing computer games, QQ-ing, sleeping and shitting.

A lot of them said, “My family to…. blah, blah, blah….”

Here’s the summary:

Five went to Venice, Milan, Florence in Italy. Of course, in separate travels.

Three visited Hainan, an island South of China which the tourism lablled it as the “Little Hawaii.” Oh, believe not that. I’ve been there. Untrue.

Seven enjoyed the sun in Maldives. One proudly reported that he’s been to the same beach where the tsunami hit years ago.

One showed us his postcard photo with the Petronas Towers in Malaysia as the backdrop.

Four walked on the crowded streets of Seoul, South Korea.

Nine enjoyed the “Symphony of Lights” in Hongkong.

Two bought Japanese tech gadgets from Tokyo. One went to Hiroshima and the other saw Mt. Fuji through his portable telescopio.

One walked barefoot in the sands where the Pyramids of Egypt stands amazingly mighty and proud!

Upon hearing all these places I was gobsmacked—eyes wide open.

I never doubt that my students are sons and daughters of China’s elite but I have no fucking idea how rich they are.

There is no air of wealth and smell of gold if you look at them closely. They wear clothes not different from the ordinary Chinese citizens on the streets everyday. These are the same students who live on a hundred to hundred fifty (13-20 USD) yuan as weekly stipend.

China’s “little emperors” are clad not anymore in shiny, yellow gold robes with printed dragons on it, but in a commoner’s dull, plain shirt, coat and trousers.

I guess, they sleep in a bed where the “hidden treasures” underneath it.

An Inconvenient Truth

Wednesday, February 28th, 2007

Al Gore’s “An Inconvenient Truth” grabbed the naked Oscar’s statute as the Best Documentary in the currently-concluded Earth’s most-watched awards show.  And his punching opening line of the docu is, “I’m Al Gore. I used to be the future President of America.”

I just watched it a while ago and I am dumbfounded of the non-fiction documentary. Man, it’s so detailed and even grade school pupils would understand it assuming that they learned and passed their basic science subject.

We all know about it and we thought that scientists use high-fallutin words to complicate the problem of global warming but they aren’t. It’s just that we are not closely listening to it. We refuse to understand that we actually complicate the matter and a great contributor to the problem.

And Al Gore is right, Global Warming is a moral issue. But it is a political issue, too. The government can alleviate the problem if they would listen and accept that the issue needs solutions now. They have so much power to tell entities to minimize, if not stop, the carbon dioxide emissions.

There is a growing concern about the problem around the world and the US, who proudly proclaims “In God We Trust”, is the greatest contributor to the earth’s destruction. And that bastard, too, is one of the two countries who never signed up for the Kyoto Protocol, is an international treaty designed to limit global greenhouse gas emissions. The other one is Australia.

I’ve always known that Global Warming is a big problem but have no idea how big it is until watching the DVD today. It’s like you are in front of an unknown but familiar territory called Earth. The comparative photos then and now presented a truly graphic differences of places being studied. The graphs show not only how the world’s climate changes from one to another but also show the dangers of what we are facing up now and in the future.

The predictions about some of the world’s cities will be vanished would be very, very accurate if we remain to be passive in solving the problem. 

And how can YOU, Time’s Person of Year, help stop Global Warming?

Here are 10 simple things, YOU can DO and how much carbon dioxide you’ll save doing them.

1. Change a light.
Replacing one regular light bulb with a compact flourescent light bulb will save 150 pounds of carbon dioxide a year.

2. Drive less. Walk, bike, car pool, or take mass transit more often. You’ll save one pound of carbon dioxide for every mile you don’t drive.

3. Recycle more. You can save 2,400 pounds of carbon dioxide per year by recycling just half of your household waste.

4. Check your tires. Keeping your tired inflated properly can improve gas mileage by more than 3%. Every gallon of gasoline saved keeps 20 pounds of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere.

5. Use less hot water. It takes a lot of energy to heat water. Use less hot water by installing a low flow showerhead (350 pounds of CO2 saved per year) and washing your clothes in cold or warm water (500 pounds saved per year).

6. Avoid products with a lot of packaging. You can save 1,200 pounds of CO2 if you cut down your garbage by 10%.

7. Adjust your thermostat. Moving your thermostat just 2 degrees in winter and and up 2 degrees in summer can you 2,000 pounds of CO2 a year.  

8. Plant a tree. A single tree will absorb one tom of CO2 over its lifetime.

9. Turn off electronic devices. Simply trun off your tv, dvd player, stereo, and computer when you’re not using them will save you thousands of pounds every year. 
   
10. Spread these steps. 

Now, as the end credit of the movie says, “Are you ready to change the way you live?” 

My answer is, YES.

So, be ready to read your inboxes and forward them. 

Day 3 in Shanghai

Saturday, February 24th, 2007

i’m back, i’m back to my little shithole in beijing. 

but the travelogue is not over yet. i still have one more thing to tell ya—my third day in shanghai. 

Shanghai Sculpture Space

let’s start when dishuiguanyin, picked me up at 11:00 a.m. we agreed to visit the shanghai sculpture space at huai hai. 

like beijing, this art space is situated in one of the old factories, perhaps, used way back in the cultural revolution era. but only artists can make a junk place into something cool where the starving eyes of few people will be satisfied, if not fully bloated with artistic inspirations.   

currently, they’re exhibiting the amazing works of auguste rodin, a sculptor whose hands made the thinker an artistic masterpiece. two of my most favorite naked statutes by rodin i love to stare are the kiss and  fugit amor. they’re so surreal. 

on the side of the huge factory was a photograpic exhibition of a chinese photographer dubbed as dancing lights. honestly, most of his works are abstract and i just don’t get most of them. :(((

Shanghai’s Sex Museum 

This museum is the first of its kind in a country where people are known to be sexually repressed. and by that, i mean, people who still consider talking about sex as a taboo.

but to hell with being sexually vulgar in a little cubucle called museum? the chinese sex secrets are known to the public, but, during my visit, only few sexually-active mammals were staring with curiousity to the minute relics and statues of penises, kama sutra-like positions molded in ceramics, carved in woods and painted on a parched of paper and even in cups and saucers! 

there is one thing that wildly caught my attention. and i fucking love it!

see that? it’s really huge. i guess, it would take hundred of tongues before it could be fully erected and worshipped. gallons of lubricant will be wasted before it will slide off to someone’s anal cavity. 

as you can see, the man’s bod is being chained for whatever unknown reason. maybe, this man is a prisoner? a slave of his own sexual repression?

a man with a penis run amok, perhaps? 

or he might be the man whose cock cocks up when seeing a sexy butt like mine? 

amen to that. hallelujiah! 
 
Lovely Night

i spent my last night banging my head and grooving to rock, pop and hiphop tunes. 

the night was sort of my reunion three of the people i’ve never seen for coupla of months. dishuiguanyin, belinda, and my ex-student, aaron who turned up at the bar in his semi-formal suit!

and i gained two new friends: johann and ann. both are extremely cool and extroverts.

first, we had an expensive dinner at malones, an american sports bar where the cunt-hungry middle aged and grumpy old men meet. 

i was the who picked this up from thats shanghai magazine and i had no slight idea about this place. the mag description made it sound like it’s a cool place to hang out. 

a filipino band played rock music while in some corners, whores abound. 

we ate, drank and sweated on the dance floor for a while before leaving for the next bar destination: ruby’s.

and here, ladies and gentlemen, most “bar girls” here are filipinas who are clad in the skimpiest shorts and skirts and who adored themselves in front of a mirror while beckoning customers by gyrating nasty moves to the highest form of flirtness. oh, my dear pinoys, why are we so good at this? 

a dyke cum pimp is sitting in a corner somewhere watching her prized possessions with agile and open, wide eyes ready to negotiate for a fair price.  

we stayed there for an hour before leaving for our next bar destination: windows too. 

this place is full of budget-concious or budget-stricken partygoers. beers come in cheap and the patrons are young, hiphoppy and a bit cruisy. 

i enjoyed it here despite the crowded space and again, the presence of “bar girls.”  

i felt so straight guy with a queer eye but hell, who cares? i’m in there and it’s fun to seduce straight men into bed (or in the bathroom) but i was so unlucky that night. 

but, i’ve seen three copulatory organs of wasted and drank men when i excused for the toilet twice. those organs looked so sad and those balls are the most sagging ones i’ve ever seen. (ok, i’m exaggerating the most sagging part).

i don’t really care, i can handle them. 

but, oh, please, not a sagging breast. 

Day 2 in Shanghai

Friday, February 23rd, 2007

 Aside from getting laid twice the other day, I’ve gained a friend.  

 

Tess, a woman with an oozing charm & appeal (I know, I’m so generous with adjectives), met me in the afternoon at my humble youth hostel. She looks different from her pictures in friendster; she looks more fab in person. She’s bubbly and light-hearted, characteristics that it’s gonna be a long day spending time with this kind of woman.  

She was on phone talking to a cum-whore friend, Ronald, when we did the compulsory cheek-to-cheek greeting between a real woman and a woman in-between.

 

We instantly connected and her gaydar is as active as mine so we had no time to be shy from each other. We wasted no time hopping on her chauffeur-driven car off to Yuyuan Garden, a market where well-preserved Chinese architecture is at it’s best. But, just like every old Chinese houses, this area has turned into a bustling market for everything—name it and they got it. 

 

And there in the middle of the vicinity, lies a golden tree that you can throw your wishes and let them hang in there. I’m not familiar with the belief of this Chinese superstition but we thought it’s pretty cool.  

So, we decided to join the fun!

First, we have to buy the specific wishes we want. The wishes were ready-made & written in a red ribbon with an engraved bronze stuff at the end of it.

For five yuan each wish, you’re on your way to make throw your wishes to the golden tree. They may come true soon, or, maybe, not. My wishes were: good health, family, boyfriend and money.

Tess wished for a boyfriend but it’s not for her. She has a dashing husband who worship her every minute. It’s for our kind friend Ronald, who seems to have a destiny to be always broken-hearted. She also wishes for family, health and the standard beauty queen answer—world peace!     

 

Then, we went to her posh suite flat on the 50^th floor of Shimao Garden which is  overlooking the Bund and Lijuiazi, Shanghai’s financial district. It’s just like you are also on top of the Pearl Oriental Tower where you can see Shanghai’s skyline. The damn weather made it unbearable for me to see the bird’s eye view of the city.

And oh, yes, their bathroom with a shiny white jacuzzi is perfectly overseeing Shanghai’s Huangpo River. If it were my house, it would be my favorite place on earth and would love to be cum-fed instead of the usual sticky rice and other Asian-related menu. It’s a good place to shoot indie porn videos in the most unimaginable positions.

With such views before me, what should I do but—pictorials!? In slutty, nasty poses, I can  topple down every nubile, daring, trying-hard starlet in the filmdom!

Of course, Tess was the abled photographer who admitted she’s not familiar with the function of her expensive camera. (That’s the disadvantage of being rich. You don’t know how to operate your tech gadgets. Tess, Ronald, are you reading? You should be like the other noveau riche gangster, Ronna.)

 

She also brought us to the bar inside the Clubhouse of their compound. There, I got the best frozen margarita of my life. I could have more of it had it not for our next destination. She toured us around the huge Clubhouse and I was so sad to peep at their indoor swimming pool where no one’s fluffing.    

 

Next, we headed off to Banana Leaf, a Thai restaurant which we all know employs Filipino singing cook and waitresses donning Chinese qipao, a traditional dress. Four of us (Cathy, Steven, Tess & me) toasted red wine to our hearts’ content.

Later in our dinner, my friend, Fi, who just arrived from Ningbo, came to join us and by the look of her, she’s a bit tired but still looked ready for whatever surprises the night would give her. I thought she’s tired because we gave her the wrong floor address of the said restaurant. She spent long walks finding it only to see me later waving down at her from the 7^th floor.   

 

After we all devoured our dishes (except for the boneless chicken feet which Tess relished with much gusto!) we proceeded to the boardwalk at Lijiazui by the Huangpo River. There, we can see the Bund, where all the well-lit British architectures are seen in the other side of the river.

 

Then, again, picture taking here and there took off. But the coldness defeated our fragile and sexy structure that we decided to get in one of the glass-walled bars (I forgot the name) nearby.

Again, I ordered for a frozen margarita. It was distasteful but not the worst.  

 

Finally, after the drink, coupled with anything-goes conversations, we called it a night. We all went back to our respective beds.

Fi and I had another plan though. We checked out the bar at the Bund called Attica but was not pleased when we found out it’s closed due to the holiday brouhaha.

Fortunately, it was midnight when we checked out the bar and the firecrackers were heard in every corner. With our cameras readied, we ran up to the Bund and there we saw an awesome display of fireworks. It lasted for minutes.

  

Then, we walked down to Fuzhou Road, where my hostel was. Right at the entrance, I called a taxi for Fi.

 

When I came in, a 23-year old Aussie guy smiled at me. He was alone on the lobby’s sofa and by the hint of it, I thought he needed someone to talk to so I sat down in front of him. We introduced each other and talked places we’ve been to and backpacking stuff.

He noticed that I talked with mannerisms I can’t avoid but aware of them. He then asked me the million-dollar question, “Are you gay?”

Without batting an eyelash, I answered, “Yes, you’re godamn right!? Are ya?”

“Nope, mate,” he said.

Naturally, the conversation shifted to my lifestyle until I asked him straight in the eye if he had experience with gay sex before.

Surprised to the bluntness of my query, he replied, “No. I’m straight and I don’t wanna do it, I guess.”

Hard to get, huh?

“Well, you should try it. Come on mate, you’re from Sydney where the Mardigras is a fabulous festival. Besides, it doesn’t mean, you’re one of us if you have had gay sex,” I retorted.

 

“Convince me why I should try it,” he quickly countered.

I spent the last thirty minutes of our conversation trying to convince him until the sense of adventurism in him awakened and said, “If I’d say yes, where are we gonna do it?”

 

My eyes lighted up and my libido began to tune up to horniest temperature.

It turned out that we both were staying in a dormitory type room.

 

“Well, we have no choice but the bathroom and the elevator,” I declared.

He chuckled. Cute.

“Alright then. I’ll go ahead first and you follow me,” he ended.

And the rest, as they say, is history. 

Itinerary of the Day

Tuesday, February 20th, 2007

1:30 a.m. - Had sex with someone. Lasted 30 minutes only.

5:10 a.m. - Woke up. Took a shower.

6:00 a.m. - Walked to the Airport Shuttle Bus with that someone who slept with me.

6:40 a.m. - Changed mind. The shuttle bus was so crowded with Chinese who cough without covering their mouth. Negotiated a taxi for a fair price. The man kissed me goodbye. The taxi driver was shocked.

7:30 a.m. - Arrived at the Zhuhai Airport.

7:50 a.m. - Checked in. Wrote something on my laptop.

8:20 a.m. - Boarded the plane.

8:40 a.m. - Plane closed.

8:50 a.m. - Plane took off.

9:20 a.m. - Refreshment served. Choice between a croissant and a noodle. I told the flight attendant if I can get two. She said no. I decided for the noodle. Seven minutes later, she came back and handed me the croissant. Good girl. 

9:50 a.m. - Took picutres on the plane. Sky was immaculately white. Heaven was a step away.

10:00 a.m. - Read Chicken Soup for A Travellere’s Soul. Almost cried in every story.

10:35 a.m. - Plane landed at Shanghai Pudong International Airport.

10:50 a.m. - On the Maglev Train with a speed of 430 km/hr.

12:20 p.m. - Arrived at the hostel. Got lost with the subway lines and ran out of coins for tickets.

1:10 p.m. - Took a nap.

3:00 p.m. - Woke up. Shaved. Defecated.

3:30 p.m. - Toured the Bund.

3:50 p.m. - People kept coming in.

4:00 p.m. - Took more photos here and there. 

6:10 p.m. - Aboard the Bund Sightseeing Tunnel. Fucking expensive. 

6:25 p.m. - Wandered around the Oriental Pearl Tower. 

7:00 p.m. - Went back to the hostel. Called Tess and we agreed to meet tomorrow around noon. She promised to treat me to lunch. 

8:00 p.m. - Downloaded photos to my laptop. Had conversation with my roomates: a Korean, Japanese, Chinese, German and American. 

8:55 p.m. - Went downstairs for dinner. Ordered margarita pizza. Bad taste. 

10:00 p.m. - Walked at Nanjing Road. Seven pimps approached me for lady massage and lady bar slash lady sex. Whatever that means. Then, went to some places nearby to check out Utopia-listed gay crusising places. I was dissapointed. Nothing’s there. Maybe, I was too late or too early. 

11:05 p.m. - Back at the hotel Foot tired.

11:17 p.m. - Updated this. 

Growing Wrinkles in Zhuhai

Monday, February 19th, 2007

Don’t ever dare plan a trip to Zhuhai. 

I repeat, DON’T ever come to this place!

Just don’t. It’s not worth it, I’m warning you. Don’t blame me later. 

Of all cities (I guess, 30+ cities) I’ve been to in China, Zhuhai is the most uninteresting. 

And why did I come here? It’s close to Macau and I’m intrigue that every Chinese student I asked would say, “It’s beautiful and nice.” And the standard line follows, “It’s famous, do you know?”

Oh, fuck it. Everything in China is famous.

So, what did I find out here?

Little. Only little.  

Eight Things I Hate About Zhuhai

1.) The Gongbei District is dirty. They should clean it up or campaign for cleanliness. People just throw trash everywhere as if the city is one big dumpsite. 

2.) My 3-star hotel is expensive (I could not find a budget / backpacker type) and it’s located in Lotus Road where the “angels in the night” frequent the place. The ladies are clad in vulgar, heavy-layered make-up, see-through stockings and differently-coloured hair extensions. I have nothing against their “job”, but, oh, please, be a little discreet about it. 

While walking here last night, five women came to me and spoke to me in Chinese and when they realizes I’m a laowai, all they could say was, “Do you want sex? Only RMB500.”

Girl, I was so flabbergasted and told them to go away but they’re so persistent and they started to hold my arm akimbo and my blood pressure rose high upon feeling the sweaty arms of those sluts! 

3.) The road signs here are written in Chinese. If you can find one, then, you are lucky. And if you are a tourist, you are a double loser: you can’t read Chinese and you can’t find a road sign. The tourism department should, at least, try to write the pinyin of those characters because Zhuhai people can’t even help you for directions. I was ignored a lot of times when attempting to ask for street names going to gay bars. 

4.) Before I settled to my current hotel, I walked around the area and asked room prices . To my amazement, hotels here have no one who can speak English. It’s annoying and irritating, really. They’ve got advertised themselves on the internet in English but not one could even understand, “How much?” 

Of the 6 hotels I’ve been to, only one has a receptionist who can speak minimal English for hotel purposes.

5.) Yesterday, when I arrived, I asked my hotel where the nearest bookstore is with the help of my mobile phone dictionary. She gave me the directions and off I went and was so depressed when one of the salesman told me that they don’t have a map f Zhuhai in English! I asked him where I could buy one and he said that I couldn’t find one anywhere because I’m standing in the city’s biggest bookstore! Imagine that. 

6.) Taxi drivers here are the rudest I’ve ever met. Upon exiting Macau-China border, I headed to the taxi stand, where it’s located underground the custom building. When I showed the hotel address, I was successively refused 7 times by 7 assholes. The last four asked for 50RMB. They don’t want to use the meter. And so I sensed that my place must be nearby. I asked the young men in uniform abounding the area and gestured me the directions. I found it after 45 minutes walking with ocassional stops at some hotels to ask and compare prices.

7.) This morning, I visited by bus the Statue of a Fisher Girl . They say, it’s the symbol of Zhuhai and was built according to a local folklore.

On my way, I dropped off at the Lover’s Road along the coast where most Chinese families stroll, a way to celebrate the second day of the Spring Festival. 

Then, I dropped off again at the beach where the sand is yellow. I removed my shoes (though not necessary) just to feel the sand in my feet. I miss it, you know. 

When I finally arrived at the Statue, as expected, it was crowded and people seemed to be always coming in along a small stone bridge. It’s so sad to look at that the coast here is full of floating garbage and the water smells a bit (if you have sensitive nostrils).

Trash cans are noweher in sight. Or maybe, I just didn’t find them.

And most of all, there was no some kind of introductory message about the place. I roamed around intently looking for it but my effort was in vain. Or maybe, I just didn’t see it. 

8.) There is not much to do here in Zhuhai, backpacking style. The other scenic spot listed in their website are the Pearl Land and Yuan Ming Palace. I went there, too, but there’s nothing new. These are amusement types and I expect something more local. Too bad, my camera went dead. 

I don’t even know if they’ve got a museum. Their website doesn’t include any info about such.

Upon arrival here in this city, I checked the Custom / Immigration lobby and surrounding areas to look for a Tourist Information Booth but, well, nada.

I found one close to the Fisher Girl Statue and was pissed off when the man, who was busy tinkering the computer, told me in straight English, “I’m sorry, I don’t know any W.C. near here.” 

That’s too sad, I thought. He could have tried or said something to a soul who is eager to release piss out of his system. 

I walked out of that little office and walked 15 meters from it. There, I found the W.C sign and followed it.

When my piss finally reached the place where it should be, I went back to the Tourist Information Booth and told the guy, “Next time, when somebody asks, the W.C. is just there!” 

He was astonished and looked like he was awakend from his “deep computer business.” The Fisher Girl knows what the hell he was doing that he’s too busy to be polite and help me.

I smiled at him. Looked at him in the eye and left him in confoundment. 

Zhuhai is a city trying-hard to be modern and keeping up with rest of the cities in China. Nothing is wrong with that.

But before proclaiming itself with high-fallutin words, it should be tourist-friendly first. 

I’m eager to leave Zhuhai now. It’s boring here.

I can’t contain my excitement for my next destination tomorrow at 8:45 a.m.

Shanghai, start rolling out the red carpet for me. I’ll be there to be gang-banged! 

Gong Hei Fat Choi / Xin Nian Kuai Le

Sunday, February 18th, 2007

Feliz Ano Nuevo Lunar
So, the Lunar Chinese New Year has finally arrived and Chinese revellers are all excited going around and about.

Last night, while still in Macau, my students bombarded me with text messages and a tonful of calls. Gosh, it’s long distance call. You know in China, you have to pay both incoming and outgoing calls. It sucks big time. 

This year, China lessens the deafening fireworks noise. The government, I heard, imposed rules to be strictly implemented all over this country. They have scheduled hours to crack up these stuff. So, when the clock struck midnight, it was almost a silent night. 

The photo above was taken yesterday at Macau’s main square. Though Dragon and Lion dances are the same but I always see it in different light. And until now, after four years in China and after having seen a tens of these performances, I still feel amused, excited and awestruck in this traditional Chinese dance.

Not only it’s colorful but it’s also changes our views about the lion and dragon, two of the fiercest animals we have known. One is real and the other a myth. When you see these two dancing in tune of an cheerful drum beat, you’ll be surprised at how funny and entertaining they can be! 

And when you see a spectacular performance like this, you are always taken to a realm of discovery, strangeness and childlike merriment. 

Look, who kissed Porky?

Zhuhai: Macau-Mainland China Border
I arrived here in Zhuhai two hours ago. It took me only a couple of minutes to exit Macau and enter Mainland China. However, that bitch at the customs looked at me like I’m an illegal alien from outer space. She even stood up from her seat and looked at my huge laggugae and seemed to be suspicious! Hello, I have a “Z” visa now, you, arrogant, cum-hungry cunt! 

By the way, the boy I was talking about in my previous entry came with me to this city because he needs to exit Macau for his tourist visa is going to expire soon.  

I’ll talk about Zhuhai tomorrow.

In the meantime, I’ll be checking out the gay whereabouts here and find someone willing to be bottom. 

That’s the way to start the Year of the Pig!

Eat fresh, hard meat and drink the milk.

And you shall live longer—younger forever!

You know what I mean. 

Walking around Macau

Saturday, February 17th, 2007

Macau Streets
Beijing is to biciclos; Macau is to motociclos.

So, be an alert pedestrian if crossing a street and you have the nerve to break the rule by crossing even if the light is red. You may not be aware, a raging motociclo might just suddenly pop up somewhere.

The streets are so narrow, thus, traffic is so heavy that it tests the limits of your patience. But, honestly, it’s not as bad as Beijing.

Most apartments are old. Some repainted but not really wholly renovated. Except for the roaring cars and motorcycles, the streets are so serene and conducive to singing to yourself. 

Of course, free admission.

Macau Cookies

This woman’s handmade / homecooked cookies are incredibly yummy! I was lucky, this woman gave me a free taste after my camera clicked for her.

I learn from this experience that gorgeous tourists, like me (ehem), get free cookie. ;)   

Friday, February 16th, 2007

Macau is hot!

No, I don’t mean the weather, of course.

And because this is the Las Vegas of the Far East, what else should I check out first but the casinos?

This is the Grand Lisboa Casino. Man, I’m telling you, I’m so addicted in my first try. I don’t understand the rules of the game but I did try the Cash Fever machine where you drop coins and press buttons here and there. 

I lost HKD70 only. I should have stopped when I won HKD190 but I was so addicted and greedy to win more. I wanna gamble more but, hello, I’m poor.

The lobby is one of the grandest I’ve ever seen. Expensive chandeliers are so mesmerizing that I wished I have one of those in my bathroom.

day 4 in hongkong

Thursday, February 15th, 2007

I was supposed to go to the Shadow of the Buddha place today but the weather didn’t cooperate. It’s foggy and showered a bit of rain. So, instead of paying tribute to the One who attained Nirvana, I decided to be a drifter for a day. I did a walkathon around the city and maybe, I’ve walked 20 kilometers.

It feels so good to be strolling in your new, original adidas shoes. Alright, it’s a sale so I grabbed it.  

And you know what? Hongkong is kinky swinger!

Need an evidence? Go, figure! 

(An ad for a bottle of wine)

Leisures & Pleasures

Wednesday, February 14th, 2007

For the sake of documenting all what I’ve been doing and seeing in this spectacular city in Southeast Asia, I’ll be posting pictures for your eyes only. I know some of out there, (especially those friends of mine from the third world) had wished to be in my position right now.

Coming to Hongkong to travel is a simply bullshit reason but there’s actually more than that. I’m coming here to process my working visa which only took me one day, less than an hour of waiting for processing and collecting. That’s what an early bird gets.

Look at this pink bus closely and you’ll find my name. Isn’t it cool that my faggotry is being promoted? I want my blog addy under that name!

This is my hostel. Chunking Mansion was brought into stardom through Wong Kar Wai’s film, Chungking Express, which is listed as one of the all-time top 100 movies in the world. The ground floor is bustling with a lot of Africans and Indians hawking and pimping their respective businesses. If you’re not used to Asia, don’t stay in this hostel. You’ll never trust the murdering naked stares from strangers when you passed by the lobby.

If you are on a budget traveler or backpacker, this is for you. You’ll get to know Kowloon on your doorstep. It’s not really a bad accommodation. For HKD150, I got a clean, single small room, private bathroom, TV (with BBC, HBO and Fox News), air-condition, a ceiling fan, hot water and a private telephone. Two internet cafes are found on the ground floor where tired backpackers around the world update their blog, send emails, chat and check out the local guys and girls online for “language exchange” and “friendship.”

The spectacular Victoria Harbour view by the day and night. It’s so serene and you can’t get enough of it.

Located in the very heart of bustling Central, the tallest building is the International Finance Center. It stands so proud and mighty! It’s also the # 6 world’s tallest skyscraper!  

Statue Square in Central is Hongkong’s main commercial and financial district. See that Bank of China building in the middle all surrounded in white fluorescent lights? It looks like a sharp knife. It’s the #11 tallest building in the world!

It’s me on the Director’s chair! Handprints of famous Honkongers in the filmdom industry like Wong Kar Wai, Jacky Chan, Chow Yun Fat, Michelle Yeoh, Stephen Chow, and Cheung Kwok Weng Leslie are being immortalized in a namestone. The latter’s namestone is bare—except for his name—and sad. :((

But the famous of them all is Bruce Lee. Not only his name is immortalized but also a marble statue stands so tall in his honor. He is seen in his trademark karate action and I’d say that those hard abs of his was the original six-pack, washboard abs that humans have ever seen!

A huge TV screen outside the Times Square yesterday greeted everyone a loud pink V-day!

If you’re visiting this city, don’t forget to drop by and miss the Natural Museum, Science & Technology Museum, Space Museum and all other museums. Why? Admission is free every Wednesday!

This was my Valentine’s Day lunch. A homecook Filipino food (kare-kare) from Mang Ambo Restaurant in Wanchai District.

This son of a bitch has a unique way to satisfy his attention-deficient persona. Not only did he get a lot of stares and smiles from pedestrians but also confused look from the two policemen nearby. They don’t know what to do. They must be debating if there a law to prohibit people showing off his extra ordinary talent before they could arrest him for anything.

Look, what I found! Hongkong is obviously gay. I’m so speechless.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Tuesday, February 13th, 2007

The commercially-loaded day of the year is here once again.

And as usual, I’m single, loveless and pathetic.

I’m used to it so don’t give me pity and tell me one of your standard lines, “It’s ok. Everyday is Valentine’s Day.”

That is truly pathetic and undeniably unoriginal. And oh, it’s so sweet but plain bullshit, too!

So, shut up. I have something to say.

I’m still searching for that very person who would bump into me and say, “I’ve been looking for you all over. Where have you been?”

Then, I’d say, “I was just around. You never noticed me because our eyes never met in a second. I actually saw you but someone more gorgeous than you passed by and I followed him only to find out that he’s not into dating but only into quickie. It’s real fun. And it’s been like that for a long time. Every time you passed me by, I got distracted by strangers who go for quickie. I had sex with over a hundred men and I failed looking for the right one over a hundred times, too.”

We’d look into each other’s eye and find the love we’ve been longing for. We would throw our arms into an embrace as if we’ve been from a long, tiring journey. We’d exchange our promises and lock our lips—seal it with the best kiss the world has ever seen.

And suddenly, the sky opens up and someone up there sings, “The Power of Love.” Pink thick clouds zoom up and there appears the voice behind the song, not Celine Dion but Elton John in a ravishing, rainbow-sequined thong and pride flag as wings.

Midway through the song, little dahling Lance Bass, handed us the rainbow ring and ultimate gay goddess symbol, Cher, in an almost naked fashion ensemble, pronounced us as husband and husband.

Alright, I’m so mushy.

The truth of the matter is, I’m already jaded about love.

Just jaded. Not heartless.

But, I still do believe in love, be it puppy, true, unconditional or for sale.

And honestly, I already forgot how to fall in love.

Having met a lot of guys in my life and had sex with all most of them, I surely turned into someone who looks at love as a thing. Not much anymore as a feeling.

I rarely feel it now.

I don’t feel it more often now than in my younger years when my heart was burning with love whose flames would go beyond the chimney and the sky.

And look at me now, all I’ve got are memories of old flames. 

victoria harbour, hongkong

Monday, February 12th, 2007

I’ve been to Hongkong four times already but it was only last night that I was able to visit Victoria Harbour where a visitor sees the stunning vista of Hongkong Island at night.

It was postcard perfect! A kind of view that we always have in mind even before coming to this amazing former British colony.

Five minutes after I set foot on the harbour, everybody froze and watched the twenty-minute performance of dazzling lights from major architectures both from Kowloon and Hongkong islands.

With an upbeat background music, they call the show as “Symphony of Lights.”

To me, it was more of a magic.

The changing and dancing hues evoke more than just lights or an ecstatic feeling of someone watching.

It evokes life itself.

In order to brightly shine, one has to struggle through the dark night. And when one emerges undefeated, only then, he can be called a survivor!

And how to be a survivor?

Dance and shine. 

men on the train

Monday, February 12th, 2007

The train ride went smoothly but spending time in inside that mobile tube for 26 hours is a sacrifice for someone like me or anyone who is not used to a life worse than that of domestication.

Alright, I had fun—but not as much I could get cruising in a sauna bath. Aside from taking pictures here and there, I spent my time ogling, staring, and glancing human creatures around me hoping that I could get a find a hottie.

And kismet never failed me. Not one but two. 

Discovery boylet #1:
He is in his early twenties. Not much of a hunk but he looks rugged and bratty that add to his masculine appeal. You know Chinese boys—they are so feminine but this one is an exemption.

He slept right opposite my deck and my eyes just can’t get enough of him. In our bedtime conversation, he asked me if I am gay and without breathing for a moment, I answered him, “Yes, I am.”

He was not surprised of that confirmation because according to him, “I knew it. You gaze at me like you are up to something.”

And our conversations about mundane things continued for a little bit more until we snoozed off to dreamland.

Then, yesterday morning, out of the blue, he told me that he’s bisexual. Holy shit, was he trying to play with me? If he could have said it the other night, I could have convinced him for a quickie at the toilet for the real, unforgettable ride of his life!

And his name? Exit.

Don’t laugh. 

Discovery boytoy #2:
If I were working in a fashion industry, I’ll introduce myself to him directly, give him my business card and say, “Just in case, you want a career in fashion modeling, give me a holler.”

He is one hell of a guy—tall, handsome and oh, mouth-watering! His skin’s so flawless and his lips are thin, red and kissable.

Too bad, I didn’t have the nerve to approach him. I didn’t even know his name. He was busy talking to the oldies in his compartment while I was so desperately wanting his attention to notice me.

And all my flirting signs were in vain. Twenty-six hours of unrequited gazes.

It’s ok. I’ll see him again for sure.

Some great love stories start that way.

Yes, like our way. 

I know, I’m daydreaming…..

things to bring

Thursday, February 8th, 2007

i’ll be hitting the road to hongkong on sunday noon. since chinese spring festival is just a breath away, flight tickets are raised up to unbelievable, astronomical prices. so, i have no choice but take a train to hongkong which i am looking forward to. it’s a 24-hour journey and i’m thinking of what i’m gonna do for these hours aside from sleeping and bumming around. 

for sure, i’ll be taking pictures and show them later so you would have an idea of how filthy and exciting it is to be on a train. not that i’ve never been on a chinese train before but this one would be the longest train journey i’m gonna take. so, help me god. 

when i go back to my dungeon here in beijing, i’ll fly using my e-ticket which i purchased with the help of a pure-bred biatch, multi-millionaire friend, ron.  

i’m going to travel cheap. backpacking in winter, u guess.

but, no, i’m not gonna be carrying huge backpack. i’ll be neat. a medium-size trolley bag would be hot to lag behind. you know me, i want all my shirts, sweaters, pants and underwears ironed and pressed properly and i don’t want them to be crumpled in a backpack. i’m a neat freak—sometimes.  

so, where am i going? 

february 11-16: hongkong (train)
february 16-18: macau (ferry)
february 18-20: zhuhai (on foot)
february 20-23: shanghai (plane)
february 23 p.m.: back to beijing (plane) 

and the things i need to bring are: 

electronic gadgets:
laptop computer
digital camera 
mobile phone
portable 40gb usb
ipod

prints:
book (thinking of paulo coelho’s zahir) 
reader’s digest asia
hk maps
utopia book (G&L guide in China & HK)
utopia membership card (for discounts) 
z-visa documents
e-tickets (2)
train ticket

clothes
10 long-sleeve shirts
3 short-sleeve shirts
5 sweaters / anorak
2 thin coats / jackets
15 underwears (8 whites & 7 blacks)
10 socks
3 shorts
4 pants
2 body towels
2 face towels
3 scarves
2 skull cap 

accessories
2 sunglasses
watch 
2 belts

health / beauty regimen
vitamin c
food supplement
garlic jelly
nivea lip gloss 
nivea face cream 
nivea hand lotion
cocoa butter skin lotion
polo perfume
nipple nibbler
tootbrush 
toothpaste
mouthwash
dental floss
soothing foot lotion
shower gel
mineral facial spray
deodorant
tissue
shaver / shave blade
after shave cologne
fresh breath spray 

safety protection
a dozen condoms (latex)
a bottle of lubricant (KY-Jelly) 

…and i’m ready to go! 

forbidden fruit

Thursday, February 8th, 2007

forbidden fruit is an australian-produced documentary talking about the ups and downs of being an asian gay in australia. It’s an honest-to-goodness look into the asian gay subculture, perhaps, not only in the land down under but also in other parts of the world.    

If you are an asian gay man, then, listen to what they say and you might hear your own voice.

Forbidden Fruit — Part 1 of 2

Forbidden Fruit — Part 2 of 2

as the conclusion of the documentary says, “we are all outsiders, foreigners, struggling to be a part of someone else’s extreme.”

well said.

and i couldn’t agree more.

the greatest love story to be told

Wednesday, February 7th, 2007

i’m so touched by these pictures i’ve found in the net today.

perhaps, this is the greatest love story to be told to mankind yet.

although the genders and relationships are not yet known but archaeologists believed that these two have been buried 5000 years or so.

and they call it the eternal embrace. 

these two may be lovers, brothers, sisters, husband & wife, gay guys, dykes, friends, neighbors or even enemies—it doesn’t matter.

this embrace is a testament that there is love beyond life and beyond earth. 

what do you think could be their story?

could it be more tragic than romeo & juliet or mushier than the hollywood love stories? 

too bad, no one’s alive to tell the whole story. or maybe, the saga.   

but, what if this couple was excavated in a kinky kama sutra slash 69 position?  

of fuck buddies

Tuesday, February 6th, 2007

so far, i had three fuck buddies. 

and i’m gonna write about them now because my first fuck buddy is back in this city after almost two years of absence. i thought he’s a ghost when i received an unregistered number in my mobile phone. since our last amazing wrestle in a soft bed at grand hyatt hotel, i’ve never heard of him. not a word nor a buzz in messengers.

i’m a hypocrite if i’d say that i’m not thrilled and looking forward to another sweaty, steamy sex in the bathtub tonight. afterall, he’s the one who helped me explore the limits of my sexual fantasies—that includes dressing up as a french maid (think of jennifer aniston in friends with money movie).

hahahahahahahaha…

that was so funny that he cummed by just watching me seducing him and playing tricks with my feather duster on his naked bod.   

honestly, i do still remember the structure and face of his cock-a-doodle —- in shy and angry mode. the shaft size is amazingly beautiful. i have small hands so average-size stuff looks amazing in my hands. go figure! :)  

too bad, he’ll be here only for four days of purely official and business transactions. but, of course, when the world turns dark, he deals nasty business with me. he told me that he’s not seeing anyone in this city, except me—and his boyfriend in italy knows about it (and me). 

duh, whatever. i’m not affected.

so, what’s with fuck buddies? 

having one is a hell lotsa fun. if you are a devouted religious fanatic, don’t do it because you’ll be tired experimenting unorthodox positions beyond kneeling. 

it’s pretty physically challenging and emotionally-draining at the same time. 

fuck buddy #1: italian
as said, he was my first and sex with him was more of a ritual than just a quickie. we had long, passionate foreplays in the bathtub covered with scented rose petals and candles around. 

being an italian, he’s one fucking, mushy dude. 

he whispers romantic words and plays mushy music which, of course, sent my libido to a state of limbo and panic. 

he’s bigger than me and when he carries me to bed, i’d love the feeling of a rushing excitement. he takes everything easy in sex while i am the hot, aggressive maniac ready to devour his manhood.

he taught me how to control my orgasms and enjoy wild, safe, and salacious coupling without being so trying hard.

we met (or rather fornicate) thrice a week for six months in my early days in beijing. it was a very awesome experience that i’d be sharing to my nieces and nephews later when they reach legal age. 

hehehehehehe…..

anyways, he’s back in town and tonight is gonna be another history in my promiscuous life. 

and tomorrow, i’ll be waking up cuddling under his arms with a smell of a dried milk of human kindness. 

and that for me, is a hearty breakfast.

——————————
to be continued….

skating

Sunday, February 4th, 2007

i thought skating is a piece of cake because the skaters i saw on tv made it feel so light and easy. and even less dangerous! 

boy, was i wrong! 

today is my third time to try the tricks of becoming a smooth skater but, cher, i am still a hopeless case at the end of the day. 

my unhappy feet are so stupid that i couldn’t even slide them sans my student holding and guiding me through the rink. like any beginner, i dropped my butt so hard on the rink that i thought i menstruated. 

i also bumped into some people who gave me an annoying look but the moment they heared me saying “i’m sorry,” they were amused and perhaps, wondered why a foreign object like could not do it alone. 

gee, if only they knew that i come from the tropical third world, they’d be helping my heavy ass move freely like i’m an immaculate virgin in the sky.

 

i told my student to leave me alone for a while. i’m gonna learn my own by putting into practice the do’s and dont’s of what he already told me. 

i used all my graceful prowess and unbelievable balance but to no avail—i was still an ugly duckling in a middle of men, women and children literally flying all over the place. i made it into few meters but i was still so fucking awkward to look at.

i was such a pathetic z-rated skater whose skills are soooo below mediocre. 

ah, if only my bed execution is tantamount to my skating performance, i’m a sure winner! 

no doubt about it. 

child no more

Tuesday, January 30th, 2007

the much talked entertainment item in the net these days is the sudden metamorposis of the boy that started the harry potter mania on screen.

he has no more breast milk in his mouth. he’s now giving milk to his zillion of crazy fans, mostly teenage crazy girlies who think he’s cute, by baring in a sexy photo shoot that rushed my adrenalin to a whirlwind pool of horniness.    

he used to be so cute. but now, that cuteness is nowhere to be seen. and his sweetness is, ooooh, gone…?

what’s conspicuous now in his new aura is a changed, ravishing young man ready to neigh and take charge of his own battle. 

daniel radcliffe is one hot pappa. a hunk at 17! 

sir elton john, are ya reading?

not only his fans was gobsmacked at his unexpected transformation but also to the gits in the porn world. 

nude photos of him in his full glory (allelujiah!) are begiining to proliferate the nasty world for lonely, sad, pathetic people—the internet. (of course, i’m talking about photoshop graphic scandals that also happened to a lot of celebrities.)

the sexy, sperm-induced, cum-motivated fotos are released as part of the promotional materials his latest play, EQUUS, to strike in london theaters on february 16.  

DUDE, I WANNA BE A WHITE HORSE!

27 years…

Monday, January 29th, 2007

today is my father’s 27th year death anniversary. 

and like in the past, all i do is light up a candle and say a little prayer. we used to visit his grave every year in the first few years after his death. in those visits, we all brought all his faves: cigarette, food, flower, wine, etc… 

the cemetery is located in the farthest side of the barrio. it’s in the middle of a little jungle, a mini rain forest. way back then, the only transport we could use was a motorized tricycle.

my brother and sister enjoyed it especially when we were at the threshold of the necropolis. the idea that we would “see” our father again thrilled our young minds and his passing had not sank within us until the following years. 

we would stay at his grave for two hours. after laying all our gifts and stuff, we would play, sing, dance and talk to him. you know, like a normal conversation of a father and his children in the living room. 

and in the middle of that happy scene, our mom would just cry a bucket of tears and all of us would be crying, too. i swear to all gods, our sadness reverberated through the jungle that all those lying six feet below the ground were disturbed and wept with us, too. we stayed like that for half an hour.

looking back now, i understand why my mother always cried. she was a widow at 23 with three cute siblings to feed. she’s not a college graduate even and the troubled martial law years offered nothing but political and economic bleakness to the country whose first lady collected diamonds and 3,000 pairs of shoes.

and the part i hated most was saying our goodbyes to a cold, quiet tombstone. my mother would say first, then my little sister and younger bro. i would refuse to say a word or two. i want to say my cheerio alone. my mother would understand and she would guide my little siblings out of my sight. standing there alone, i’d stare at his epitaph and say, “so long.”

“so long” was the phrase i heard from an english movie i saw in a betamax the other night. and i used it since then everytime i had the chance to visit his grave.

it’s been fours years now that i haven’t been there. i wonder what happened to that jungle and how many graves more were added.

i guess, i came to my senses that my father is dead when i was in grade 3, roughly three years after his death. on that year, my siblings and i started to help our mother in putting food for our table. on weekdays, we listened hard to our boring teachers who sold ice candies on the sideline to increase their meager income. weekends meant going to the farms of other people so we could have money for school and for food.

together with some other children who were brought by their impoverished parents, the cornfields were our huge playgrounds then. we had fun when our parents would declare a break. children have this kind of fragile body made for constant movements. we didn’t feel complete exhaustion even uder the blistering heat of the tempestuous sun. child labour was not yet one of the major concerns around the world.

in the afternoon, after the harvest and on our way home, we would drop by the crystal clear river and take a dip into it. it was so refreshingly fun and good!

then, in one of our 5-kilometer journeys on foot to a dusty corn farm, she told us that had our father still alive, we could have lived in a comfortable house. my father was a year shy of becoming a feisty lawyer.

and that was the first time i heard the word lawyer. and my first time to dream of becoming one. 

so, what’s he like?

i honestly don’t know.

my senescent mind now already forgot what’s he look like much more the bondings he had with us.

damn! 

why does our mind forget the good tmes and never obliterate the bad ones? 

but there’s one happy moment that teasingly dwells in my mind: me on his shoulders.

my mother said that he was sooooo happy and proud of having a boy his first born. 

but that same boy turned out to be sooooo gay and proud. 

and he was not able to see how i turned out to be soooooo fucking fabulous. 

if he’s still breathing the same shitty air we have today, would he be angry or just accept me as his gay son? 

that i don’t know, too. i don’t know enough about him.

he must have killed me already or he must have pushed me to join a beauty pageant.

whichever way, i don’t care.

but, seeing me now, my father would darnly say, “it’s ok to be gay but be safe.” 

twenty-seven years of decaying six feet under is equals to 27 years of missing what happened to his family.

i honestly don’t know if i miss him, but right now, while writing this, my heart longs for a father that i never have had. he passed away few days after my 5th birthday.

twenty-seven years of growing up fatherless (i know you’re counting my age, stinky!), have changed and influenced my system so much that i exaclty don’t know how to “be a man.” 

but, certainly, i know how to be a woman.

a wild, crazy woman.

wherever he is now, he’s damn happy and debating with his fellows every single minute. 

for sure, he’s a practicing lawyer somewhere.

and mind ya, he’s reading this, too. 

Youtube Video Uploads

Sunday, January 28th, 2007

hurrah! youtube is back! i’m so glad that i am willing to lick and rim someone’s ass–the one responsible for getting the internet back to a bit faster connection since the taiwan earthquake that shattered my dreams and affected my sexual escapades. i realized that my sex life depends too much on the web that without logging to one of the gay personal sites, my mangina is as dry as a desert.

i made this video as a testimonial to Anna, an equally-gorgeous friend of mine who has a secret only me know, knew & will know. Bwahahahaha…..

sorry, ann. i realized i could get money out of your secret. so, if you want to shut me up, you know what to do! bwahahahaha!!!

Another video is from the traditional chinese wedding I have attended last december 30. Enjoy!

boring things i’ve done

Friday, January 26th, 2007

the other day…
i was interviewed by china radio international. there were three questions given: chinese sports; the cri broadcast; and radio promos. but, it’s nothing really. the answers were given so my ass would just read (and adlib a little) the answers in the most conversational way. it was done by telephone but i stayed up until one o’clock in the morning. i have no idea what this station is broadcasting but radio announcer told me that listeners are as far as the united kingdom down to the land down under. who cares. i got RMB200 as my talent fee. no sweat and shit.

yesterday…
i went to instituto cervantes. i’ve decided to enrol in a spanish language course to get more “connections”, expand and spread faggotry. i waited at the lobby for one and a half hour for the receptionist to be back from a long lunch break. guess, how long? two and a half hours! manana (tomorrow) habit it is. shit, i didn’t even scored to the cute guy sitting opposite me. his girfriend was so annoying. i wanted to crush her and feed her internal organs to the sharks.

today…
i devoted my whole time browsing utopia. i’ll be travelling on winter vacation for two weeks so i’m researching info about gay bars, saunas and meeting places where i could wank, suck and fuck. 

duh, whatever. 

too early for romance

Tuesday, January 23rd, 2007

this really huge billboard ad at sanlitun is a head-turner. it is so huge that every passersby would look up to it and and if you are still desperately single, you’ll be reminded to find some love.

winter is colder when you spend Valentine’s day alone, loveless, hopeless and pathetic.

unique job

Thursday, January 18th, 2007

this man walks back and forth in front of a department store in wangfujing, china’s shopping district. clad in a gladiator costume, this unique job in the middle kingdom seems to interest passersby, including me. (yeah, right, i’m one of those curious humans!) a lot of people are really in awe at this idea and children had a lot of fun looking at the moving / walking object holding a really dull spear with a small axe at the edge. 

russel crowe knows what the red sash says.

belly dancers

Monday, January 15th, 2007

the other night, together with my domestic helpers cum little bitches, we went out for dinner at 1001 nights, an arabic restaurant where you would get to see some belly dancers grooving and sweating while you are eating your steak or kebab. 

it’s here, too, where you would get to see belly dancers with so much baby fats to burn.

my breakfast

Saturday, January 13th, 2007

no questions ask.
that’s my breakfast.

oh, no, i’m not dying.

not yet.

Monday, January 1st, 2007

i bade farewell to good ol’ 2006 with a big bang—a rave! my gay friends and i had a really gracious, fine dining at morrell’s whose steak is one of the best i’ve ever tasted. of course, dining is at its best if conversations are spontaneous, coupled with hearty laughters that sounded like come-ons to straight guys sitting right at the next table. and while doing it, hold the glass wine like you are suggesting something to be “broken.”

and after our last meal of 2006, somebody handed us a gift, courtesy from the restaurant owners. that somebody would be the gay waiter who sashayed his hips like someone who has just gained his freedom of expression and has just been pulled out from the backwaters of western china. and guess what—they’re stuff for a masquerade ball: a feather mask, a rainbow plastic clappers, a pin, and a blinking tiara! oh beyonce, how i love it—the tiara! i finally got my own albeit plastic but who cares? deep in my mangina, i do wish i got it from winning a beauty title—-any title, except, “Miss Barrio Fiesta.” Cher almighty knows it’s crap…

and from the resto, we headed off to the Yen Countdown Party at 906 Factory at Dashanzi. literally, the rave was held at the fancy-free, snow / mud-friendly floors of an ancient factory back from chairman mao’s cultural revolution. boy, you have no idea how it looks like but the disco lights, though not the best sounds, the excitement was fucking hell obvious. the event organizers did a good job in turning an old building, unfinished art gallery into a big dungeon as a venue for party hedonists to shout, dance, bitch, flirt and get drunk. never mind the potholes on the dance floor. it’s all about coolness and social climbing. just bang your head, strut your stuff, show skin (despite the cold weather), wink at the horny guys and awaken the libidos of the hererosexuals. then, shut them off from your eye sight.

eewww…

so, i don’t need to tell you about the party. when most of crowd are expats, you know what it looks and feels like. it’s pure wildness and crapiness rolled into one. when the clock touched down to the last second of 2006, confettis and kisses rained everywhere. i did kiss some guys and gals i didn’t know existed. boy, what a midnight to take advantage of!

i went home at 3:00 a.m.

drunk and wasted. 

Traditional Chinese Wedding

Saturday, December 30th, 2006

an aussie friend held his traditional chinese wedding this morning @ beihai park. he’s married to a lovely chinese lady. it’s the park where the mongolian hero-fighter genghis khan built the famous white pagoda that housed the buddha with a thousand hand. 

here are the ceremonies of the traditional chinese wedding in modern times. 

the waiting
before 10:00 a.m., guests were already waiting @ the east gate of beihai park. it’s snowing today in beijing but that doesn’t stop them from attending this unique wedding ceremonies from this country that boasts of 5000 years of civilization. 

the drummer boys
dressed in bright red costume, the drummer boys got themselves ready with their musical instruments. the mobile chamber where the bride is to be carried shines in red silk lavishly embroidered with a phoenix and dragon creatures, powerful emblems for a woman and man. 

the parade
the parade began with firing up confettis on air. of course, noise barrage here and there to send the devils away. the bride, whose face was fully covered in silk veil, was then assisted to her chamber and about ten men carried it all the way to the wedding reception. the groom followed her bride. 

two dancing lions led the parade. ocassional stops in every important spots were made while an announcer / master of ceremonies was blabbing this and that in the language unknown to the foreign guests. buddha knows whatever those words mean.

we passed the bridge, the tunnel-like arch, the long corridor, and another gate.

outside the reception
when everyone gathered around @ the doorsteps of the reception, the bride came out from the chamber. she’s still covered in red silk veil. she was assisted down to the red carpet where the groom awaited for her arrival. 

some traditional ceremonies have to be done:  the groom threw two arrows in the air; then, the emcee gave him a scepter-like stick to use it in unveiling his bride; after that, more blah, blah, blah from the master of ceremonies. 

finally, picture taking with family members, relatives and friends in an Oscar-like fashion. (i’m talking about the red-carpet hospitality.)

at the reception 
ok, i’m not going to be verbose here. i’ll just bullet the things that transpired in a really traditional, posh chinese restaurant. 

* after short introductions and with little help from the hired translator, the emcee proceeded to read and give the wedding documents (that looked like a little red book) to the newly-wed couple. a representative from the marriage bureau (whatever they call it) handed it to them.

* candle lighting follwed

* ganbei (wine toasting—exclusive for the bride & groom only)

* the couple kowtowed to the East direction.

* the couple kowtowed three times to their parents (for bringing them into this world; for raising them up; and for supporting them)

* then, they kowtowed to each other for… i dunno why…

* the groom serves tea to the bride’s parents. in return, the parents gave them a red envelope. of course, that’s money.

* the bride serves to the groom’s parents

* speech from the parents of both sides.

* ring exchange

* the kiss

* speech of thanks from the couple

* then, the couple changed their wedding clothes. they both wore silk, red qipao.

* wine toasting to EVERY guest / picture taking in every table.   

* sumptuous lunch was served—from the appetizer to desert.

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