Braving KL

Footnote

2011-07-15T00:53:00.001+08:00

The suffocating mist was finally getting to me, but I had every reason to stay on, in this damp, dark corner. For once I thought I had found myself in the embrace of the little world that had accompanied me so many moments of my life, yet there were no roaming hands, no moaning sounds, and no stale smell of cum. But there was something else, there was him.

In one quick swipe, his lips were on mine and his hands, moving within the folds of my gym towel. I closed my eyes, already knowing that it was a bad idea, for the imageries flooded my mind, and then the quick and painful realization that you were taken, and so was I.

Oh Braving, are you back.

The Four Letter Word

2010-01-20T00:51:00.007+08:00

Mr. A: Hi!

Braving: Harlow.

(Mr. A went all silent, as with all passive bottoms of the world, expecting you to pick up the conversation I suppose, which makes you wonder why they bother to say hi in the first place.)

Braving: OK, so how’s ur weekend?

Mr. A: Oh, I went to Sentul home.

Braving: Oh okies. Didn’t know you have a house in Sentul.

Mr. A: Oh no no, I went there with my friends for a show.

Braving: Hmm.. u meant to say you organized a show at your place?

Mr. A: No no no, I don’t stay there la. Haiye, this place in Sentul, just next to maper, how come you dunno one?

Braving: (Not wanting to pronounce an innocent soul guilty of misspelling a tree that he most probably has never seen in his life) Ah, you mean the Maple condo I believe. You watched a performance there? Where exactly is this place?

Mr. A: Haiyoh you really dunno hor. So big the signboard also you dunno? When you drive your car there, already at the entrance there got say ma so big the word – H O M E!

(A 30-sec silence ensued, as I struggled to catch my breath and recompose myself, from the stark realization of the place this guy was describing.)

Braving: Erm, darling, the name of the place is called KLPAC, not HOME. The four-letter word is YTL’s way of saying that they want you to call their properties in Sentul East/West just that when you’re here.

God have mercy on Malaysian gay men.

Have iPhone, Will Grind

2010-01-13T22:45:00.004+08:00

Ok, so I have been summoned to put up this community service update for all the iPhone users out there.

Well if you’re gay and you have an iPhone, and you do not know this already, you will be delighted with this app. Grindr is basically a gay men dating app with a twist – it lists all fellow gay iPhone users around you, sorted by their relative distances from you, with the closest one appearing on the top of your list of course.

Throw in the ability to chat, exchange pictures, send maps of actual locations and the such, and you get an excellent social dating app, if nothing more than just a conversational piece over dinner.

BravingKL Short Story - The Shadows That Were (Epilogue)

2009-10-16T21:22:00.003+08:00

Grace had always pride herself as being the most experienced, courteous, and attentive front-line staff of this chic restaurant. There was simply nothing that she had not seen or come across, or handled before. Yet tonight, the sight of a lone diner who opened the most expensive champagne stocked, only to down it all with two glasses and two sets of their most well-known steak was, admittedly, a sight uncustomary even to her.

The End

BravingKL Short Story - The Shadows That Were (Part Six)

2009-10-16T21:02:00.002+08:00

Kevin suddenly gasped for air as he realised that he's forgotten to breath. This seemingly familiar space was eating into him, didn't matter that it's only his second visit. And its suffocating wetness, he didn't know if he'll ever get used to it. Against the breaking of the mist, Kevin found the tiled bench at the narrow turning again, as wet, and as empty as the first time. He gathered his towel and sat down slowly as the air twirled and danced its way around him.

There was a sickening recollection lingering in the air.

It was a hard few weeks for Kevin. His phone, as though having suffered an irreversible curse, would never be graced by the painfully-missed number again, no phonecalls, no messages. The pleasures that had momentarily blessed Kevin’s life, it was all but painfully too short-lived, and its departure too sudden.

Where did he go?

In a fit of frustration, Kevin yanked his towel away and let it dropped carelessly to the rough cement floor. He cupped his face with both hands, only to drag them downwards across his face and neck. There was a maddening void of pain as his nails ran deep into his skin.

And then Kevin was ready, he stood up now, and turn his naked body sideways to allow it to catch some of the muted sunlight filtering in from the windows near the entrance, and he started walking further into where the bench led him, into where the mist had held their secrets before this, into where the first encounter happened.

Kevin thought he heard a moan, and raised his hands to let his fingers lead the way. This evening, right here, right now, Kevin’s desperate fingers will taste the reassuring male form again.

Yet as the longing fingers’ journey fell short of their grand voyage, the only thing that welcomed them was not the familiar ripples of a well-built chest, or the rough stubbles of a carelessly shaved chin, but that of the misty, wet surface of a cold, hard mirror.

To be continued

BravingKL Short Story - The Shadows That Were (Part Five)

2009-10-15T21:37:00.004+08:00

Within the comfort of his own bedroom, punctuated by the peaceful snoring of his wife, the world of Kevin Tan came crashing down. He stared at his phone, long and hard, pressed the keypad repeatedly, and triggered the power on and off countless times, yet all that came staring back at him was an horrorfully empty message inbox, an inbox that was just earlier this evening graced with an extended list of sms, those discrete exchanges of arrangements for secret meet-ups, of mushy heartfelt expressions, of painful longings and of mundane daily updates, there were screens after screens of those, yet not a single one of them remained now.

Kevin felt numb from the torrent of disbelief as he took on the final blow of tonight's discovery - the golden set of numbers, the one obtained from his sauna visit, his only access to the one who owned his heart now, was wiped out together with the message.

His mind churned and churned now for answers, this targetted attack could only have one objective in mind, and with one irrefutable suspect. But his wife had been so unsuspecting all these while, so much so that it was making Kevin very guilty. Yet guilt was Kevin's last concern at the moment, the growing void in his phone, his heart, was aching like a million needles, as fitting as it may be, one surge of piercing turmoil for every wave of blissful yearning.

However there was no room for confrontation tonight, Kevin was not emotionally equipped to face the exchanges that may ensue. The revolving ceiling fan somehow caught his eyes, and he stared at it for a good half an hour, before his trembling fingers finally surrendered and dropped the phone, overcome now with a sudden surge of helplessness and defeat. And then Kevin slumped into bed, heaved his final sigh for today, and slipped into the comforter and joined his wife.

To be continued

BravingKL Short Story - The Shadows That Were (Part Four)

2009-09-17T22:38:00.002+08:00

Kevin was blushing still. He wound down the car window and let the torrent of fresh air this lovely Friday midnight hit his face. Streetlights fleeted past him, one by one at first, and then quickly blurred into a stream of dancing lines, of which radiance paled in comparison to the ecstasy written all over his reddened face. He stepped harder on the accelerator.

There wasn’t a single occasion in all his thirty-three years of life where he has blushed as hard, Kevin thought. He blamed the wine they had, not just any wine he proudly declared, but a 1978 Chateau Lafite Rothschild that he had kept for the most precious occasion. For a brief moment, he made the effort to check on the gaze of admiration as the bottle was popped open (there was a list of expressions to choose from) but Kevin's attention was quickly summoned back to the star of the night. This first meet up was as perfect as he had wanted it to be, the ambience, the conversations, the food, the surreal qualities of them all, Kevin almost convinced himself that he had dreamt all these up.

But his eager heart could not lie, and the bliss inconcealable; Kevin didn't make the effort to hide them at all, not to the waiters serving him, and certainly not to the other patrons that night. Everyone was undeserving of his attention tonight, everyone except one. His focus was unmistakably singular.

To be continued

BravingKL Short Story - The Shadows That Were (Part Three)

2009-09-08T22:22:00.013+08:00

For the longest of time, Kevin stood in front of the row of vanity counters at the locker area, oblivious to the buzz of the crowd that was beginning to build up this Saturday evening. In his hand was a strip of glossy magazine paper, hurriedly torn from the corner of an aging library from the lounge area, slightly crumpled, yet on it a series of numbers were scribbled. Kevin tried but could not take the sight off them, nor could he his fingers. This unassuming piece of paper, it smelled of the prized reward of countless late nights of research, of the well-rehearsed reasoning to his wife and children, of deception, yet sweetened liberation.

He tightened his grasp on the paper and slowly tasted its significance.

Kevin thought, there was a blur on the event leading to this, he tried to recall as he watched his own reflections in the large mirror in front of him, but he realised it didn't really matter perhaps, as all he knew at that moment was he had liked what he saw, this encounter of his in the steam room, and he now had a mean of staying in touch with him. In his head, Kevin was churning with an unfamiliar wave of excitement and the possible thrills this may bring. As the heart raced faster and faster, Kevin knew all too well that his earlier plans of this being a one-off, fuss-free exploration of nursing his curiosity was now being spitted into the sink like a pitiable lump of puss and hastily rushed down the sinkhole.

To be continued

BravingKL Short Story - The Shadows That Were (Part Two)

2009-09-04T22:54:00.002+08:00

From a temporary clearing of the steam, Kevin squinted and saw the first sign of life in this lost, muted world. A mild, involuntary shiver travelled his body as he shifted his sitting position on the wet tiled bench and adjusted and readjusted his views to piece together the physical being that was starting to form at the other end. First came the lightly tanned arms, perched against the edges of the bench, droplets of water flowing downwards and disappearing between the fingers. And then the sharp jaw lines, the lightly parting lips, and the prominent sideburn, as painstakingly trimmed as his own, Kevin thought.

He welcomed a sense of familiarity to this sight.

For the longest time nothing moved, this desolate quiet world stripped of all sounds, except for the travelling gust of steam, ever hissing and expanding and filling every cracks on the rough cement floor and walls. Kevin let out a breathless sigh, and watched as the steam in front of him parted and twirled away. His way of saying hi perhaps.

And then there was the hurried decision, Kevin knew he could not entertain the risk of having second thoughts, he was already too far away from the grasp of his mundane life, this was his moment. But he couldn't bear too the fact that he had dug so low, lower than the begging gaze of the ill-performing secretary that he had told off earlier this morning. There was a disconnect now between him and the trembling hand that was slowly stretching forward, sideways, towards the figure. From the corner of his eyes, Kevin watched as his fingers poked into the steam, and faded into a blur of shadows.

He closed his eyes now, imagining what the sight would be if he were to grow eyes on the tip of his index fingers. There was no plan on where exactly to plant them anyway. This, strange, peculiar act of saying hi, this singular moment of eager anticipation of landfall, with all its unspeakable undercurrent of guilt and fun, indeed was as far as Kevin as gone before.

To be continued

BravingKL Short Story - The Shadows That Were (Part One)

2009-09-01T22:54:00.002+08:00

The air was a sickening mix of lukewarm mist and a strange stench of stale sweat, yet Kevin was grateful for this half-baked setup, he wouldn't survive for more than three minutes if the steam were to be a tad more enthusiastic. At the very spot after the glass-door entrance, he stood there for a good while, blinking and breathing calmly, getting used to the limited visibility. And then slowly, he stumbled forward along the narrow path in front of him, thanking the stray evening sunlight filtering in from the dusty windows for showing the way.

It's all very quiet in here. Kevin swore that he had counted not less than 15 people entering this maze while he was deliberating his next moves outside the corridor, yet apart from the occasional hissing of steam and a distance dripping of perhaps a leaky pipe, Kevin strained his ears but heard only his own heartbeat as he landed on a bench at the end of the path.

Beyond this, a darkened turn bathed in mystery, and unspeakable, unimaginable fun. Fun, that Kevin could have only read online and fantasize about as he led a life that had been laid out dutifully before him. But now, this strange, new world before his eyes was finally materialising. Nights of fighting the urge to stray from the rightful path finally saw defeat, utter defeat, as he now inched forward into the embrace of the darkened corner of a gay sauna, clad only in a thin towel, vulnerable, confused.

Yet eager to explore.

BravingKL Short Story - The Shadows That Were (Prologue)

2009-09-01T22:53:00.005+08:00

At the very end of the darkened corridor, a solitary hand emerged, did an unintelligible gesture, and was never seen again. Was the pain from trying to figure out what its gesture meant, or in waiting for its return?

The Fan

2009-07-06T14:25:00.002+08:00

I can't remember what triggered it to be exact, but Kel slapped the table in an act of animated glee and started giggling like the happiest kid in the world, all for the patrons on a busy Saturday night in Dome KLCC to see.

I have to say that the contorted expressions didn't quite go well with his generous coat of facial hair and the dark-frame specs, but still, it made my day.

"So what do you remember most about this gay blog that you used to read?" I asked.

"Oh, I normally would just quickly glance through, but the pic taken of two guys holding hands is still fresh in mind."

I looked away, towards the park entrance glass doors just meters away, and reminised the scene about a year back, I think, that singular minute of frantic digging for my digital camera in the gym bag, followed by an unabashed attempt at inching closer to the unsuspecting couple to snap the scandalous body language in action.

"And oh, those before-and-after pics showing the wonders of photoshop is fun too!" Kelvin's facial parts had snapped back into place, but he's still in high spirits.

"Haha, must be something to behold." At this point, I was beginning to wonder if he'll ever touch on the more scandalous stuff like sauna floor plans, but to my pleasant surprise, he never did. Must be a recent follower.

"I wonder why he never write anymore." Kel looked my way and said. And then I put down the set of fork and spoon, and reached for my glass of warm water.

Fragments

2009-03-24T01:29:00.000+08:00

one of three
3am was not ungodly an hour for Newo to call. In between his quick-paced chatter, I could hear his labored pants. The little ascent along the slopes to Frangi couldn’t be that tough, he admitted that he was indeed rather drunk. From his incessant mumble, I concluded that he called to lecture me about something I did of which details I could no longer recall. Still, his undeniably charming, intoxicated voice stuck like a magnet. Damn, he kept me awake the whole night.

two of three
Avidog promised to cook me pasta for the rest of my life. Not just any pasta, I told him. It’s got to be spicy olio spaghetti. He wouldn’t be of much use anymore if I could just kidnap the chef working in Dome, but then he goes “all the chef in Dome are basically Bangladeshi and your favourite pasta is pre-prepared in the central kitchen and sent to each outlet”. Hmm I can’t live with a Bangladeshi my whole life, can I?

three of three
Braving: you left your toothbrush here last night.
Misu: yes, I did.
Braving: you know the other day I just threw away five.
Misu: I’ll just use yours.

Wake Me Up

2008-12-30T19:08:00.003+08:00

Wake me up when December is over
Turn the rainbow wheel and hit a colour
Dragging sofa over timber flooring
Withered flowers grouped in mourning

Wake me up when December is over
Spilt rosemary oil over clay diffuser
Gentle wind through cold gray shades
Mindlessly sweet words that we love to hate

Wake me up when December is over
Balinese massaging clay and fuckingly hot shower
Countless courting that leads to nothing
Soap operas with no ending

Wake me up when December is over
Search the fields for a four-leaf clover
Jazz music on crumbled sheets
Chilly Pudong out of reach

Wake me up when December is over
When the sighs are gone, and days less tougher
Tealight candles and green tea latte
A morning of hopefuls, a brand new day

Christmas

2008-12-16T00:20:00.001+08:00

A little Christmassy cheer, I couldn’t help gasped at the sight of the dreamy Christmas tree, its welcoming warmth, like a beacon of love, broke through the dusty night air, and pulled me towards it with every step. I just had to surrender myself.

Café Café was just as I had left it. About a year back I think? The silent face from across the other table, he’s still there. That was the philosophical day that never quite happened, never meant to happen. We exchanged smiles.

A little candle holder I soon found nearer to my face, and so had dancing shadows graced my every laughter and delight as seafood and sun-dried tomatoes tickled my tongue. Do I look tensed? I swear the sultry tunes of Édith Piaf wasn’t helping at all.

The iPhone really shouldn’t be on the table. Its very presence is a vivid contrast to the darkened nostalgia gracing every single piece of ornament in this quiet space. And too, the distraction posed a challenge too great for me not to submit to. I pinched the screen and resized photos, as though I have not resized a photo in my life before.

And a proposal. To Penang I hear? Couldn’t give no for an answer, could I. But I could count with both hands the days of which this new turn has unfolded. But really let’s just pinch my nose and jump right in, splash myself a torrent of emotions again. The silly games people play, and the silly people games play.

Whatever happens next, I still have the Christmas tree to dream about, at least.

A Silent Shade Of Gray

2008-11-02T01:07:00.001+08:00

A silent shade of gray, it comes like a dream gone bad. I wish I had not messaged you in MSN that Monday afternoon, then you would not have had the opportunity to say goodbye. And then perhaps we could have dragged this impossible fairy tale on a little longer, doesn’t matter if you had wanted to tell me this since two weeks ago, I think I can wait another two years.

A silent shade of gray, resonates with the gentle murmur of Nicole’s car engine as the gang did a cross-country to Klang for seafood. I wish I had not laid on your lap throughout the journey, thinking to myself that I had not felt so contended with life for a very long time. Then perhaps I would not have sunk so deep into your insecurities and your lies, and found myself with a broken sense of reasoning, broken beyond repair.

A silent shade of gray, lost in the hectic bustle of a busy wet market. I wish you had not come along with me and Mum for our weekly marketing, and sat with us for breakfast at our favourite eatery. How am I suppose to now return there, week after week, buying the same fruits, the same vegetables, drinking the same iced tea, and not see you with every churning of my thoughts.

A silent shade of gray, caressing the dreamy KL skyline on a rainy Saturday afternoon. I wish I have refused your feeding me with soya bean milk with your mouth. It’s absurdly sweet, your lips. Then perhaps I would not be so hopelessly drunk from consuming your infectious affection and attention, and got myself emotionally incapable of loving myself again.

A silent shade of gray, a persistent numb that leaves me breathless with every recollection. I wish I have fought your initial enthusiasm, your shameless need to pursue me, your undying urge to see me every minute of the day, and your endless pursuit to be a part of my life. Fought you hard to kill the root of all evil. But I let you in, further than I should have, let you sink your footing into everything that matters to me so that I would then see your wicked prints on every page of my life.

A silent shade of gray, a gentle shroud of painful memories, a sickening throbbing of piercing sting, a miserable collection of expired passion, on the bed, on the pillows, on the toothbrush that you left behind, on your water flask that Mum would fill for you when you stay the night, on the dining table where you fed me my cough syrup, on the patio where you kissed me goodbye, on every square inch of the apartment that your have graced with your presence.

On me.

A silent shade of gray, I wish I had not known you.

BRAVEHEART ^[109]

The Reason Why I Think Mum Has Given Me Her Blessings

2008-10-08T22:22:00.003+08:00

Well that's how she had placed our toothbrushes on the bathroom countertop last week.

A Fuzzy Beginning

2008-09-18T20:55:00.007+08:00

Love comes when you least expect it to. In the case of Aikidosan who had just turned and looked at me in the darkness of the cinema hall, I just could not recall anymore the string of events that brought us here. We caught each other’s glances and hung on for a few seconds, and then he gave me a silly pinch on my right ear, and we shifted our attention back to the movie.

Was it from gay.com? I would go there on those occasional evenings when I am really bored, and end up with far too many chat windows that I could possibly handle, and then a bunch of msn contacts that would remain dormant and ultimately turn stale and get deleted in a few weeks’ time.

Or perhaps you belong to one of those Fridae folks that I’ve been mindlessly exchanging hearts with? Those folks who, besides hearts, I have not exchanged much of anything else with.

But it doesn’t matter anymore, Aikidosan ultimately broke away from the fuzzy clutter and held up his resume right at my face. He made his intentions known despite the distance, and he persevered despite my self-protective arrogance - any sane man would stop sms’ing after the 4th unreplied message.

And so we would end up where we are today, at the start of a journey, doesn’t matter how long or short it would travel, and where it actually began, I really have no idea.

You just never know what you’ll get, this internet thing.

Braving: “So tell me how we met again?”
Aikidosan: “Erm, can I see you again tomorrow?”

Kakiku: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

2008-08-22T21:31:00.002+08:00

(click on images for larger views)

Be The Man

2008-07-27T12:07:00.002+08:00

If you're a man, and you're gay, and you've never felt like you belong anywhere in this world, Mangay's collection of ladies accessories will make you feel right at home.

The BravingKL Pink Districts: Bukit Bintang 1 (Updated)

2008-07-07T22:19:00.004+08:00

(Click on image for larger view)

Gayvilion:
Positioned strongly on the top of the pink hangout destination of Klang Valley is Gayvilion (also known as Pavilion to the straight folks), the spanking new pride of the queer world.

Barely one year since its opening, this swanky mall quickly rose to become the hub of all homo-activities outside the clubbing world. Come sashay down the wide airy aisles in your Prada shoe or your LV bags, or find time to add another Versace to your collection. And then head over to Starbucks café on the street level, and join the highest concentration of caffeine-sipping sisterhoods on a weekend day-out for some people-watching.

Lot 10:
This 18-year-old mall has long lost its luster (if it ever had any), long before Gayvilion came into the picture. However, the recently announced RM20million facelift project YTL may inject some excitement back into this sleepy green building.

http://www.ytlcommunity.com/commnews/shownews.asp?newsid=39055

Dome Café:
This former favourite haunt for the pink community has unfortunately been reduced to a sorry state of affairs with the escalating popularity of Gayvilion. Obviously lacking now in any sinful queer activities that once call this joint home, there seems to be a revival of wholesome family gatherings on weekends, though in numbers that will never match the former. Dome Café has definitely seen its better days, but of course if you still miss their overpriced food and drinks, and their sticky chairs and claustrophobic washrooms, the manager eagerly welcomes you.

Bambusa:
The accessibility and convenience of this once-flourishing gay sauna was ironically what led to its demise. It’s an unwritten rule that all saunas, given their (debatable) negative moral implications, must be situated in seedy backlanes (Otot-Otot), or in sleepy commercial areas that are deserted on weekends (Mandi-Manda) or in areas peppered with similarly seedy gay massage outlets and infested with foreign workers (Kakiku).

Thus, having half-naked men parading their bodies in a balcony directly overlooking the bustling Jalan Bukit Bintang, despite being heavily camouflaged with leafy trees and bamboo blinds), definitely falls out of the comfort zone of the authorities, leading then to multiple high-profile raids and finally its death.

Blue Boy Disco:
Long before the queer crowd parades the classy patio of MarketPlace, this unpretentious disco was already a bustling joint for the Malay crowd and their admirers. With the lures of the more glittery outlets nowadays, I guess alot of the crowd has long moved on.

A Step Into Love

2008-06-30T22:29:00.003+08:00

Design 1 opens with a stomp, followed by a dizzying pivot turn on-board and then a back mambo and two triple-step around the end, before moving in with a quick hectic switch and a dramatic scissor cha-cha and repeater knee straddle, and ends with shuffle straddle and a double lunge. Our eyes alternate between looking at our step boards and at you, our beloved step instructor. Filling the deepest recess of our minds, we greedily take in every explosion of masculinity that would travel from your defined arms to the ripples of manliness beneath your fitting sleeveless tee, and then to the tight layers of pure energy blessing your godly legs.

Design 2 starts off with a two-count pose on-board, and immediately picks up the momentum with a Charleston kick/L-stomp combo, and then a Chassee pivot, followed by a cha-cha, gallop and rocking horse, before taming down to a split basic, and finally a diagonal crossover cha-cha to home. From the loudest of step music, our ears pick up your husky voice, delivering cues after cues with a seemingly bottomless pit of energy source, emanating from between your luscious lips to the darkest corners of our souls, each and every one of us, the steppers in the studio, we have come from all corners of the Klang Valley again to worship you today.

Design 3 explodes into action with a potent Chelsea kick and a frantic back full-circle flip off the edge, before another half-circle turn on-board and an Elvis and shit! I forgot what's next because you have stopped to look at how we're doing and your reassuring eyes have landed on me even if it's just for one tenth of a second. I must have looked like a complete idiot standing there and just clumsily repeating the basic step that I was stuck at. Came a full half-hour before the class starts to jealously guard this spot that allows me an unobstructed line-of-sight to you, yet I fell victim to your mesmerizing gaze.

Design 4 kicks off with a half salsa with a gallop and then a tango switch combo on-board before upping the beat with a hysterical, almost impossible triple alternating switch that sent us flying from one end of the board to another. Barely time to breath, and we’re flying again with a half-turn flick and a starburst followed by a back mambo and double stomp and spin over. In between gasping for air, and catching up with the wicked beat, we are reminded yet again of the source of our adrenalin rush, your inexhaustible energy, your arresting smile, your upbeat personality and your silly chuckle, and then there is the unmistakable sweaty patch on your Adidas pants that is unabashedly revealing the triangular shape underneath.

We cheer as you signal for us to repeat the entire routine for the eighth time in a row, and for once could not tell if the heart is throbbing from the frenetic moves or from the very sight and sound of you. We kick, and we stomp, and we flick our legs, then we spin and then we kick some more. Your very presence is our shining source of inspiration and energy; we say this with our breaking legs and our labored breath.

And then, all the things that we want to say but could never do, we quietly whisper them as the cool-down music plays, and as we stack the step boards neatly back into place, and we would whisper them again for one last time, and then leave them in our aching hearts.

Candle light and soul forever
A dream of you and me together
Say you believe it, say you believe it

Free your mind of doubt and danger
Be for real don't be a stranger
We can achieve it, we can achieve it

Come a little bit closer baby,
get it on, get it on
'Cause tonight is the night when two become one

A Queer Day

2008-06-11T15:47:00.004+08:00

Is the Malaysian society ready to embrace such outward expressions of affection from the pink community, in a crowded shopping mall choked with wholesome family activities? Well we trailed these lovebirds for 50 meters, and it seemed not a single alarm bell was raised.

Marvellous.

The BravingKL Total Photoshop Makeover

2008-06-02T01:04:00.010+08:00

Are you hitting the gym on a daily basis and working your butts out at the free weights area but yet grimace at the sight of the loose layers of fat that have stubbornly clung on to your body like how the Type C uncles stick their soapy bods to the frosted partition in the showers?

Well unfortunately the miracle no-sweat workout pill has yet to be invented, but if you are dying to look great for the once-in-a-lifetime photo, then wait no longer, because Photoshop is here to your rescue.

And what better way to demonstrate the miracles of Photoshop then to use real-life examples of photos kidnapped from Fridae? Come witness now the jaw-dropping transformation of less-than-desirable bods into the Type A championship mouth-watering versions that many of us spend countless hours in the gym working towards.

Before:

After:

Before:

After:

Before:

After:

Before:

After:

The KL Pink Districts: KLCC

2008-05-19T23:41:00.005+08:00

Market Place:
Finally, here comes an invigorating breath of fresh air in the KL’s clubbing scene, away from the ill-maintained and cikus-infested tasteless La Queen. The name ‘MarketPlace’ sounds rather unglam at first, but it may be truly reflective of what happens in a gay club where rumours fly and tomorrow’s breaking news for local pink blogs and Fridae profiles are exchanged, debated and confirmed.

The dance floor is miserably small, but at least it now comes equipped with the magical podiums where semi-decent folks are immediately transformed into attention-whoring half-naked gyrating bodies of flesh.

MarketPlace’s real gem lies in the abundance of outdoor patio areas to catch your breath and get away from the dizzying disco lights and perhaps finally catch up with the hot hunk that you’ve been eyeing the whole night at. Check out the outdoor bar area that affords you a glimpse of the semi-hidden twin towers up close. Plus, if you’re feeling cheapskate, there’s a huge bright curry house next door to adjourn to for more drinks and supper.

The BravingKL Fridae Guide: On Handling Messages

2008-05-07T21:49:00.005+08:00

There is a certain kind of message that you should avoid like a plague in Fridae – the DBKL Message. These are the mass-produced, impersonal messages that are copied and pasted to Fridae from a template, and sent over and over again by their owners, to whoever members they fancy.

One shining example can be seen here.

The (in)famous traits of the DBKL Message are:

Your name is missing from the message. For example, it starts with just a ‘Hi.’, instead of a ‘Hi Kelvin’.
It comes with questions asking about at least 5 of the following details of you - name, hometown, current location, stat, msn address, contact number, top or bottom, hobbies and work. This is regardless of whether or not you have already included them in your profile - they are in an awful hurry and cannot be expected to go through your stuff.

It normally ends with a way of getting in touch with them, either via msn, mobile number, or email.

Obviously, their behaviours are closely related to those of Active DBKL, as their rather low QC means that they simply find themselves overwhelmed with too many profiles to send messages to, such that they have no time to personalized each and every one of these messages.

Analysing the traits above will then produce an anti-thesis of DBKL Message – the extremely more successful Class A Message that is a unique, more personalized effort in establishing the first contact with the Type A of your dream.

Here are some tips on composing a Class A Message:

Address him by his name. We know that may not be obvious at first, but more often, it can be, if you pay attention to the profile name.
Keep it short and simple. Don’t offer to give a lengthy account of your day or explain the grandmother story of how you came out of the closet in your first message to him.
Personalised! Give comments and ask relevant questions that are more likely to interest him. Run through his photos and profiles to get an idea. For example, ask him where he took the picture of the beautiful sunset in one of his photos, or tell him how adorable the dog that appears in over 60% of his photos is.
Always ensure that your messages have questions in them, so that he will feel more motivated to reply you. If all you do is to answer all his questions, but never post any for him, it may just end the entire exchange prematurely, as you risk coming across as a self-centered, self-infatuated Princess.

One important note that we’ll like to stress: 70% of Fridae message exchanges end after the exchange of MSN addresses. Some members somehow appear to be avid collectors of MSN addresses, because once they obtained this piece of information about you, it seems like you’ll never hear from them again.

Two possible explanations arise:

The comfort that they now have your MSN addresses means that they are sure they’ll be able to get in touch with you whenever they want to, but they always end up occupied and so will never do. Psychologically, this is not unlike the fact that you do not visit a tourist attraction in your vicinity because you know that it’ll always be there for you when you finally feel like visiting it.
Your may be drown in their MSN contact list, of which member count tallies at 1000 and is growing by the day. They simply do not notice you as they browse through their contact list.

Thus for higher success rate, keep the conversation going in Fridae for at least 5-8 rounds, or until you feel positive that an MSN contact will be sustained, before revealing this important detail.

The BravingKL Fridae Guide: On Members with No Photos

2008-05-06T21:59:00.002+08:00

The sisterhood unanimously concluded that 95% of members who don’t have any photos in their profiles are regrettably Type C, that is perhaps even after the rescue of some level of Photoshop editing.

The remaining 5% of these members may come with Type A or B looks, but could be just too freakingly deep in the closet that it’s not worth the investment of your time, because you may end up just chatting with them in MSN or phone forever and never meet up, or if you ever do meet up with them, it’ll be forever in some obscure F&B outlets far from civilization, and then you’ll risk being dumped in the middle of dinner or movie if they ever caught sight of someone whom they know, for example like their grand auntie’s third daughter’s neighbour’s son.

The BravingKL Fridae Guide: On Members with Photos

2008-05-06T00:21:00.003+08:00

The sisterhood believes that the population of members with photos in their profiles can be broken down into the following 3 main categories:

Members with clear & identifiable public face-pics – 65%:
These members, regardless of whether they are Type A, B, or C, are obviously not shy about showcasing themselves to the entire online population. These are folks who have comfortably come to terms with their sexuality and many will turn out to be genuinely nice people.

Members with non face-pics public photos – 20%:
These members employ some level of anonymity via photo-taking or PhotoShop techniques to showcase blurry photos, photos of silhouettes or outlines of their face and body features, or camouflaged photos (generally just photos of buildings or sceneries with the member posing as passer-by in an obscure corner of the photo, so that you’ll need to squint to find them, and when you do find them, you’ll can’t tell if it’s really them or their mother-in-laws or pets).

Also included in this category are members who put photos of everything else under the sun and moon in their profile, such as photos of their belongings (like pets, plants, perfume collection etc), photos of famous actors and porn stars and pure scenery shots.

A breakdown of these members:

90% of these members would regrettably turn out to be a Type C
10% of these members could still be a Type A or B, but could have an extremely low self-esteem, or more likely, have not come to terms with their sexuality yet, and thus may present imminent challenges commonly found among closeted folks.

Members with pics of body parts only – 15%:
These members choose to present you with the achievements of the countless hours spent in the gym, or photo proof of how well-equipped they are down there. (Of course, for members of different roles, this could be referring to the ‘provider’ tool in front, or the ‘acceptor’ tool behind).

Out of these members:

60% of them actually may have presentable Type A or B faces, but chose instead to focus your attention on their body, leaving us to conclude that there can only be one thing in their mind – sex.
The remaining 40% have regrettably Type C faces, and so are left with the only option of marketing themselves via the showcasing of their Type A or B body parts.

The BravingKL Fridae Guide: On Replying Hearts

2008-05-05T20:53:00.001+08:00

Are you the type who log on to Fridae everyday and head over to your hearts page the first thing, only to find yourself confronting a list of hearts from the same old members, day after day, without fail?

Well, the sisterhood believes that, if you have exchanged 3 to 4 rounds of heart with the exact same member, and it doesn’t seem like there will be any other follow-up actions from it (such as exchange of messages or chatting in msn), then don’t bother replying their hearts anymore, coz they’re most probably doing a non-selective heart-replying action on a daily basis, or better known as the DBKL Reply (i.e. sending hearts to every tom, dick and harry on their friends or bookmark list). This means, they actually won’t realize that you have stopped replying to their hearts, and thus will continue to send you hearts day after day till time immemorial.

Of course, if a particular member is your Type A (remember the Desirability Scale?), you would naturally have already taken the initiative to write to him. But in general, for higher success rates, invest more time on hearts received from someone NEW, especially if it’s accompanied with a message or a ‘Add Friend’ request (this means YOU are his type A, baby!).

And if you are the ones guilty of doing the non-selective heart-replying. Shame on you! Exactly what kind of fat hopes are cooking in your head!? We believe you may consider spending more time doing another set of chest pumps in the gym, or enjoying another application of facial mask on the sofa.

The BravingKL Guide to FRIDAE

2008-05-04T21:36:00.003+08:00

Another topic of conversation that inevitably dominates our sisterhood dinners these days is Fridae. Yes, it’s supposedly THE premier gay personals site for Singapore and Malaysia (and some say Thailand, Taipei and Japan too). We find it fulfilling to share our experiences of how we spend our precious online moments staring into the screen browsing profiles and replying hearts and messages, and how we deal with the multitudes of colourful characters that would grace our myFridae page everyday.

Naturally this evolves into our respective observations and analysis of the entire Fridae culture, followed by a semi-heated debate to advocate, challenge or clarify on each others’ viewpoints, and finally a collection of conclusions and best practices that we would unanimously agree and apply, which shall now be known as the

The BravingKL Guide to FRIDAE

Stay tuned!

The BravingKL Desirability Scale

2008-05-03T17:13:00.023+08:00

The sisterhood dinners have been getting rather productive lately. While savouring our meals, we find it necessary to engage ourselves in challenging discussions that help to analyse and address some of the common topics and issues that are close at heart to the gay community in KL.

Inevitably peppering the discussions are Men, Men and more Men. (OK, we can be shallow and deep at the same time). So we find it absolutely necessary to create an analysis that would easily facilitate any references to Men.

Sindy was the first one to propose this, and then we collectively worked on improving the definitions and analysis, which I will now present to you as:

The BravingKL Desirability Scale

The scale helps to break down and group all men into 3 main categories:

Type A: These are men who have what it takes to make you want to pursue them. This is not specific to just physical appearances, but may include the entire package with factors such as intellectuality and financial stability.
Type B: These are men who may not trigger the rush in you to want to pursue them, but if he come after you, you wouldn’t mind dating him. In other words, he’s a convenient option.
Type C: These are men whom you would never consider dating, even if he’s making all the moves to pursue you.

All three categories can then be further broken down into 2 sub-categories each:

Type A1: These are the rare Prince Charmings in your life! You not only think of pursuing them, but you take active action to do so.
Type A2: These are your princes who fall short of certain qualities so that you would just only think of pursuing them, but may not actually do so if they do not send a positive signal your way.
Type B1 and B2: The distinction between B1 and B2 are not as clear, but generally you will succumb to the pursuits of B1 better than B2.
Type C1: These are the general guys who do not interest you at all.
Type C2: You would rather commit suicide than to date him.

Having the scale now properly defined, we then set out to plot a variation of graphs showing the number of guys that fall in the three main categories. Everyone naturally have very different plots of his own desirability chart. We find it interesting to analyse some of them here:

The standard plot reflects the normal distribution of men that we would encounter in our daily lives, judged against the generally-accepted standards in society. Naturally we would expect to find Type A the fewest, followed by Type B, and then those that we would normally filter as Type C.

DBKL are people who set a relatively low standard of quality-control for their men, translating into the fact that they would seem to find almost every single man they encounter to be attractive. The active DBKL's, who are naturally inclined to make the first move, will thus find most men plotted around the Type A vicinity. Studies conducted by the BravingKL Institute of Studies of Gay Men reveals that more than 95% of Active DBKLs are Type C, while the remaining are Type A or B who suffer from a permanent disorder that affects their visual judgements and signifcantly lowered their quality control, symptoms commonly exhibited by a drunken man.

The passive DBKL, while also finding most men that they encounter to be attractive, will not make the first move to pursue them. But if any one of these men do, then the success rate is rather high, if not always a 100%. Thus passive DBKL's find most men plotted in the Type B category. The study confirms that Passive DBKL shares the same social model as Active DBKL.

The princess believes she is too good for anyone, and thus sets impossibly high standards for the man in her life. She ends up with very few men who fulfills her type A and B criteria. Almost everyone is a Type C in her eyes. The same study reveals that only a fraction of Self-Infatuated Princesses are Type A, while in general, all of them suffer from a permanent dillusion of their own attributes due to various factors such as forgetting to install mirrors in their bathrooms.

The scale has since been healthily adopted so far in our daily lives. Among some of the examples of how this is peppered in daily conservations:

"Type A coming, at your four-o-clock."
"I can’t believe I’m just his type B!"
"I don’t mind a type B tonight."
"A table full of C’s."

A Delicious Affair

2008-04-07T21:58:00.008+08:00

So is Delicious @ Bangsar Village 2 the new PLU hangout in town? I was there with Nicole, Sinderella and Jessica for dinner on Saturday and there was at least one sisterhood sighting every other minute!
First the gang caught Ah Lian, the FF instructor, sashayed past our table in her tight fitting sleeveless tee while on her way to the entrance to meet her gym sisters.

Barely two minutes had past, when we detected a rapidly escalating concentration of hiao power near the entrance - Veronica, yet another FF celebrity instructor and her faghag gang had just made an appearance, standing there for time immemorial while scouting for vacant dinner tables. And with them was Jamie from Sindy's extended sisterhood.

Before the confetti settled, Janice the TF GX instructor who happens to be my colleague as well emerged before us, not holding hands with his new potential (whom we're all dying to know the identity of), but pushing a baby pram instead!

"Ya Allah! I didn't know you're a mother liao!" The group exclaimed unanimously while staring at the baby who must be like at least 15 months old.

"My niece la!" Janice rolled her eyes but could not afford anything more sisterly than that as her parents and siblings already caught up with her on their way out of the restaurant.

By now the gang was already on the lookout for other sightings, and in came LK, my ex colleague, with two of her sisters. Thought he didn't see me, but we were soon engaged in a brief SMS conversation.

"Hello darling. Next week party in bkk he he."

"Yeah gorgeous, can't wait!"

Before the end of dinner, Sindy announced that we will need to make an effort to dress up when we drop by again.

"Yerr.. Let my potential see me in this, so not glam."

The Love Of Dance

2008-03-26T23:14:00.005+08:00

What would you do for the love of dance, especially when you know it's gonna be the last proper dance class in Fitness First? Well, you naturally go all way out and hit the dancefloor/studio, literally, with your knees while doing the floor routines.

Showed Jimmy my bruises, and he said "Take that as my souvenir for you for attending my last Cardio Dance class."

At least I don't really need any knee pads anymore, do I?

The Ultimate Introduction

2008-03-26T01:28:00.005+08:00

XXX to BravingKL in Fridae:

hi, i m XXX here. mind 2 b fren? whats ur name? hometown from? nw stay where which part stay with who? stat? msn? u r t/b? looking 4? msn? how u spend ur free time? nw work or study? if work, work as? if study, taking what course? any contact no.? sorry 4 cz i seldom online, hope u dun mind. anyway, hope 2 hear from u soon...regards, XXX

BravingKL to XXX:

oh gosh xxx! thanks for the wonderful introduction template! are you like sending this to each and every Fridae member individually? but that's like so troublesome!!! why don't I just help you post this to my blog instead? I'm sure my readers will find it very useful. Don't worry, I will give credits to you of course for coming up with such an extensive list of questions in so little words. I dunno what else anyone would want to ask actually. And no, it's ok, you don't need to thank me really. Great job! ;)

The Doctor

2008-03-06T01:12:00.005+08:00

The doctor was silent, he seemed lost in his own world. I used to worry the first few times he did that, but it seems like it's just his way of nursing a persistent migraine. I asked him about his on-call schedules for next week, had to repeat myself as he was soon busy tapping on my left collar bone with his fingers.

“Good bone mass!” He declared with an air of animated satisfaction, I had to roll my eyes.

He then reached over and tried to tap my right collar bone, and we got into a pretty nasty anti-tickling rampage/ wrestling exercise right on the bed, throwing the comforters off their perfect arrangement. Mum's gonna frown for sure (not for to the sight of four pairs of entangled limbs - that would bring up her infamous selective memory loss syndrome instead, but at the sorry state of the crumbled comforters). Did a quick check of the door, she had not been alarmed by the commotion. Good.

But my poor naked collar bones, I had to hold on to them even after we had settled down to keep them safe from the inquisitive fingers of a well-trained doctor, whose face was now inching towards my chest instead. There was no handy statoscopes around, he'll need to go much closer to check the heartbeat.

“So I’m now your mistress?” The doctor asked suddenly.

Silence. It’s my turn to be lost in my world. I said nothing, I don’t think he’s expecting me to.

Grimace

2008-03-05T23:59:00.002+08:00

The barbells felt heavier today. I grabbed it just as firmly with both my hands. Against the gloves my palms savoured the roughness of the handle just the same and I thought I felt a tinge of sadistic satisfaction rising to my head. Looked myself straight on in the mirror, and as I grimaced to complete just one more set, I asked what sense were all these making.

And then I moved on to work on my abs.

The Sisterhood Photoshoot Of The Year

2008-02-24T21:15:00.004+08:00

The black backdrop was up, general and directional lightings arranged and lit, make-up applied, dresses and accessories ready, Madonna songs playing in the background, camera in position and Mum obediently locked up in the bedroom.

Finally, the stage was set for my most challenging photoshoot assignment of the year.

Lights, Camera, Drama!

(The release of the full set of these shots is under the discretion of the two models.)

Mrs. Chan

2008-02-12T22:00:00.000+08:00

Mrs. Chan poured herself another cup of green tea, and settled down slowly back onto the coach. Her feeble fingers reached for the remote on the side table and a Zhou Xuan number began filling the living room with an air of nostalgic quaintness not unlike her surrounding now, a meticulous blend of joyous reds and pinks to usher in the lunar new year.

Then she jumped up from her couch, her mobile, her mobile was in the shower, on the dressing counter next to the potpourri where she had left it. She struggled free of the coach and hurried over to fetch it, and with trembling fingers, she clumsily unlocked the phone to check for missed calls or new messages, but only to sink low with disappointment.

Mei Ling always calls on the eve. The highlight of her day, her month rather, would be to hear the comforting, though distant, voice of her beloved daughter, an annual merriment of sort that would set her on a prolonged bliss long after the five-minute conversation had ended, and would somehow justify the long gaps of desolateness she would endure for the past twelve months.

But Mrs. Chan would find no missed calls, and no messages, apart from the senseless promotional ones that had provided her with too many false hopes too often that she had now learnt to ignore all of them. Setting the phone on the side table, next to the remote, she held on to the side of the coach and sank lower into her coach.

The reflections of the red lanterns with chasing lights in the row of photo frames on the wall soon caught hold of Mrs. Chan’s attention, and she began staring at them for the longest of time. She had spent the whole morning earlier today painstakingly fixing the entire string of them onto the wooden frame of her patio. One of them was coming loose now, but she didn’t notice it, she was already in another world, fighting a certain war of reality and delusion.

••

The last cup of green tea had turned icy cold. Against Mrs. Chan resting body, the joyous oldies continued to form the perfect contrast against the stale, still air of the apartment, long after the last firecrackers had thundered the festive skies.

From the slit of the patio door, a shred of red paper, the remains of some distant firecrackers, somehow broke free and fluttered into the room. Over Mrs. Chan very still body it travelled, traced the string of red lanterns, crossed the row of photo frames on the wall, and finally arrived at a forgotten corner of the apartment, where an altar stood.

Its flight then came to an abrupt end, as it knocked against a photo on the altar, a photo of Mei Ling, staring peacefully outwards with her gentle smile. With one final quiver, the shred of paper fell and rested next to the photo where it would remain for a very, very long time.

A Kite

2008-01-11T21:15:00.000+08:00

Against the bleeding sunset the adamant kite fluttered in mid air, tore through gusts of evening breeze with its fragile body, trembling now in the cold air. This striking piece of multicoloured pride, the loss of which was missed for the duration of a frown, and then forgotten.

The setting sun seemed to twirl in and out of focus, at this hundred feet above ground. The kite swore it’s getting nearer, much nearer than it had been before. And it let out a silent gasp of rejoice.

Yet the warmth of the sun, as certain as it was just moments before, now swiftly dwindled as its rays fell short of the hills not far away. The sudden swelling of its magnificent body were comparable only to its rapid descent. The kite watched in despair. Its body, just now bathed in a glistening coat of golden bliss, was reduced to a collection of muted tones.

On its own descent, the kite began to dream of sunny afternoons, birds chirping on treetops and the distance squeals of children in the playground. This formerly striking piece of multicoloured waste, of which presence will now join an assortment of rotting twigs, rusting cans and other forgotten items, down on the ground, where it rightfully belong.

A Silent Shade of Gray

2007-12-10T23:36:00.000+08:00

Three years worth of emotions and memories, come walk down this path with me again.

Download the ebook in pdf format here.

Cameronian Craze

2007-12-03T21:32:00.000+08:00

The sisterhood braved the school holiday year-end fenzy and made a short trip to Ipoh and Cameron Highlands over the weekend. With the tap on juicy sauna encounters now dried up, I have to make do instead with silly accounts of the ridiculous things we did throughout the trip:

Danielle making love to the wall while descending one of Kelly's castle's stairway:

Succumbing to the hunger of a week-long absence from Bodyjam, Nicole started doing the "Look At Me" track in the imaginary dance studio on the upper levels of Kelly's castle:

The making of promotional materials for the upcoming release of Bodybalance, right on the helipad:

In between exploring the various dark corners of the castle, the sisterhood find time for some physical attributes comparison exercise:

With their respective lovers hundreds of miles away, the dreamy setting of the rolling tea plantations become the perfect opportunity for new sparks to fly within the sisterhood:

Sister Nicole drown in a deep imagination of a hunky policeman out to pin her down in this deserted stretch of the tea plantation and do unspeakable things onto her:

An early morning body-to-body massage, the perfect way to start the day:

Sindy and her attention-grabbing mini tent:

But the highlight of the trip is not the countless sisterhood bonding sessions that we had behind the closed door of the hotel room, or the heavenly-tasting salted chicken and curry chicken bun in Ipoh, or the frustrating traffic deadlock while exiting the Boh visitor’s center, but the highlight came in the form of a boyish Chinese guy with charms as far-reaching as the highest peak in the highland resort. The effect was instant, the four sisters unanimously succumbed to his magical charisma of which he seemed to so effortlessly exude in between spinning the cotton candies and interacting with customers who have lined up to adore him. His pull was indeed one of Cameronian proportions:

And we even came up with our own riddle along the way too:

Question: Tricia and Nicole started the journey back from Cameron Highlands to KL with some fresh strawberries in the car, but upon reaching the city, they discovered that the fresh strawberries have turned into strawberry jam instead. Why le?

Answer: They were jamming in the car.

Remnants

2007-11-30T01:03:00.000+08:00

A guy stopped me as I was sashaying my way down the stairs after Bodyjam.

“Hey, do you remember me?” He asked.

I turned around and sensed some familiarity in his smile, but said, “Erm.. not really. You are?”

“Oh, we met in Mandi-Manda some time back.” He said softly.

“Oh okies. I haven’t been in awhile.” I adjusted my backpack strap and started my descent down the stairs slowly again.

“It’s OK, maybe I’ll see you there again sometimes?” He pushed further.

“Nah, I’ve retired from the scene.” Turned around before waiting for the sentence to finish and left.

••

I have lived the past few years wondering if I’ll ever find the courage to remove myself from this diseased obsession. As I pushed open the glass door, I turned back and gave this guy, the remnants of my past, a wide, cheeky smile before the warm evening sunlight hit my face that was right now bathed in a seemingly surreal sense of total emancipation.

One Sunday Evening

2007-11-20T23:37:00.000+08:00

I stood by the window in my bedroom, admiring the city skyline which was right now shimmering in the golden sunlight of a weekend evening. There was a gentle breeze flowing through the wide open windows. I closed my eyes and focused on the peals of laughter from the children playing by the pool downstairs, and picked up the distant hum of the passing train along the way. From the kitchen came a cacophony of clanking utensils as Mum busied herself with preparing dinner.

There was something surreal about this whole experience – it’s Sunday evening and I’m at home.

It feels not too long ago when I first roamed the realms of those sweat-choked, cum-choked dark room territories. The countless hours of mindless, fruitless hunting games, I knew that wasn’t what I wanted right from the start, yet it was strangely addictive. I was helplessly pulled in to the whirlpool of lust, lured week after week with the promise of love, and let down again and again by the games of deception and lies.

If I have the energy to go on, why not the courage to put this to an end?

And it seems now, five years since I embarked on the journey in search of love in all the wrong places, it will now end exactly where it has begun. On ground zero, I have a collection of experiences and encounters that, even though were heart-felt and vivid as they unfolded, have failed to stand the test of time, and I have emerged with wounds that perhaps may never heal. But on ground zero, I have now gathered enough reasons to set off on a separate path, away from the dizzying darkened corridors and the depressing weekly routine of hopes and disappointments. This path smells of the sweetened promise of a stable relationship and the reassuring reward of security and stability.

A much anticipated end to an overdue chapter of my life. I smiled as I helped Mum with the dishes and set the table for dinner, my first dinner on Sunday at home since as long as I can remember.

Why Can't Bodyjam Be Like This????

2007-11-06T23:00:00.000+08:00

The Fantastic Three

2007-11-03T16:55:00.000+08:00

If you are tired of all the mindless and fruitless hunting games in saunas, or of the frusfratingly disappointing latest IRC/gay.com meetup who did not seem the least like the guy in his profile photo, or the piercing pain of rejection from a tired boyfriend, it's comforting to know that you can now take matters into your own hand, literally.

First, revisit the climatic pleasures afforded by the tight sensation of a male butt, now made from supersoft skinlike material for the most realistic touch. Behold the Butt banger:

Or if taking the pleasures of the world from your back is more of your line of business, then perhaps the 10" Ty Fox realistic cock would do you wonders:

Still, if you suddenly have a craving for the gentle suction of a hungry mouth ready to take every inch that you can cook up during the long drive home, the remote-controlled vacuum function Auto suck comes complete with a car-lighter plug and is ready at your service 24/7.

Time to give the sauna owners a run for their money?

The Increasingly Complicated Sisterhood

2007-10-24T01:13:00.000+08:00

Click on image for larger view

Business is definitely getting bigger.

我要看出戏

2007-10-20T21:31:00.001+08:00

张宇“曲终人散”的副歌部分，我们借了切心的意境第一次握了对方的手把歌一起唱完。离开REDBOX后，我记得问了自己会不会有再次握着你的手的机会，还非常记得过后在读着你在1:22am传来的简讯时的那份难以置信的感觉。

我只是不记得为什么两个人在一起的事情会演变成一波又一波的烦恼。在这个错综复杂的同志圈子里，我们的发展好像都掉到了别人的控制盘里，就连你的好朋友的前度男友的前度男友也有好建议。两个人就这样七情六欲地就跟着剧本演下去。

大家都当一场玩偶戏来看。

可是我不是在做戏，付出的不能在散场时收回。那晚在你房里，我赤裸上身对着你突然闯了进来的前度男友时，他用悲痛的眼神也跟我说了同样的话。终于明白你们根本还没结束。

原来我一直在演独角戏。

故事来到大结局，可以数出至少有五位我所谓的好朋友会从座位上站起来对着这满意的结束大拍手掌，因为“来得快的东西去得快”，因为XX的朋友说你是玩家，因为我这种“cruiser”没资格学人谈恋爱。

原来我失去了你的同时，也失去了这些朋友。

•••

庆功宴的那晚，我要最后一次握着你的手，在台上亲自谢谢曾经为这出戏付出的人。

BRAVEHEART ^[108]

Alone, All Over Again

2007-10-10T01:27:00.000+08:00

Here we go again, I told myself as I dragged my luggage out of Schipol Airport. Another brand new city to explore on my own, yet the experience of braving a new piece of unfamiliar territory seems eerily reminiscent of a not-so-distant past.

God knows who I'll meet this time, but at least there won't be any hurricanes for sure.

The Rather Complicated Sisterhood

2007-10-01T22:35:00.000+08:00

Click on image for larger view
Extended sisterhoods have been omitted to reduce complications.

A Melbourne Day

2007-09-23T23:56:00.000+08:00

A Melbourne day, fulfilling in its own way, you talked about work, your past boyfriends, your boss, yourself, I had Milo Kosong Ais, two glasses I think, couldn’t help but tell you you look adorable. You stood by the bus stop at the monorail station, waiting for me with your huge luggage, the one that you said you’ll use to pack me to Melbourne with you. You asked what you can cook for me, and set off to prepare the dishes enthusiastically, on that mindless cooking game on your Nintendo DS. I asked for your Fridae profile, not many photos in there, you acted awkward, yes I can tell your profile says you’re in a monogamous relationship, it’s fine coz I guess that doesn’t apply when you’re in saunas. It’s fine too, when I found out that you’ve gone to the saunas again before meeting up with me for dinner, you were 3 hours late, not a problem, I wasn’t hungry anyway, I don’t know why. That night we sat for a very long time in the car, you asked why I have stopped writing to you when we met three years back, I said it’s you who disappeared, and then you gave me a goodnight kiss. Along the busy ring road just outside the ERL transit of KL Sentral, you dragged your huge luggage out of the back seat, we hugged, hugged for the entire stretch of bumper-to-bumper traffic to see, seemed like a long one, most probably the last one I’ll ever get from you. You said I’ll come visit you in Hong Kong when you’re back there, share the room in your 600sq-ft apartment, you’ll bring me places. You stood there while I drove off, all the while looking my way, you promised you’ll call, your temporary Digi prepaid line won’t work there anymore, but you’ll call. But then you did not call, no call no sms no message in fridae. I checked my phone, my fridae account, my email, your blog, checked again and again. Maybe you were jetlagged (let’s pretend there is a time difference), maybe you couldn’t get online (but Fridae showed that you just logged on this morning). I’m puzzled, I just need one single message from you to thank me for our time together, you don’t have to say you miss me, certainly not love me, and it’s ok if we don’t meet again. Just a short thank you message to bring closure to this short-lived moment of happiness, but you have to deny me of this last piece of the puzzle, the crowning glory that will seal the few days we were together into eternal bliss.

I drove by the bus stop where I had fetched you this afternoon again, there was a painful void that just won’t not shut up. It screamed so loud it hurt. And then I dreamt of you again, we holding hands on a peaceful Melbourne day, and that was the last I will ever see of you.

BRAVEHEART ^[107]

Confessions In The Dark Room

2007-09-02T22:38:00.000+08:00

In the busy darkened corridor he pinned me against the wall, wrapped his arms around my waist in one graceful sweep and started running his tongue down my neck. In his fervor, his stubbles chafed the sides of my chin, leaving a trail of burning yet strangely gratifying pain.

“Shall we go to the room?” He broke the silence.

“I just want to hug like this, can I?” I tightened my grip around his body, closed my eyes and buried my face deep in his shoulders. The warmth of his body was arresting.

“You come all the way here just for hugs?” He protested.

“Yes I do.”

•••

For many years, I wandered this forbidden territory in search of answers. Perhaps I will never be cured, of this permanent dysfunctional void in my heart, of the constantly painful craving for attention and affection and of all the different inane ways I go about to pursue them. I’m helpless against a torrent of emotional confusion, I can’t figure out what I want; and even more pathetic against the cruel reality of gay life, I will never get what I want.

Please let me know how to move on.

•••

“Thanks for the hugs, you can go now.” I adjusted my towel and left for a cold shower.

Otot-Otot: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

2007-08-13T22:05:00.002+08:00

(Click on images for larger views)

An uncle started stripping next to me in the lockers as I was getting ready to change and leave. As I put on my shoes he seemed still stuck at the first stage of undress – removing his shirt.

“Haiya! Tell you don’t wear so tight already, don’t want to listen!”

His aggravated sauna kaki pushed his struggling clumpy hands away from his skin-tight shirt, and started painstakingly shifting the velvety material inch by inch up the multiple-folds of his colossal belly.

“Know how to put on, but don’t know how to remove meh!” The grumbling continued as I left.

Chubs and chubs-chasers of the world unite!

台北人

2007-08-08T23:20:00.000+08:00

周日Alor的热闹气氛不比周末逊色。你乘我被对街小贩争执分了心的时候，伸手夹了一大块烧鱼放在我的蝶里，然后斜了椰子猛吸着吸管。

烧鱼啃到一半，看到你在传着英文简讯时傻乎乎的神情，突然有一丝醉意。

“曼谷跟吉隆坡，你喜欢哪个城市？”

“以前喜欢曼谷，现在觉得吉隆坡比较好。。”你放下了手机，望着我说。

BRAVEHEART ^[106]

Mandi Mandi: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

2007-07-29T01:26:00.000+08:00

(click on images for larger views)

Yay! The gym is finally opened. *yawn*

How Could You Just Let Go?

2007-06-18T22:34:00.001+08:00

Crying Games

2007-06-14T23:07:00.000+08:00

One stuffy afternoon, many years back, I had company in my room. He’s someone I met from IRC, the in-thing back then, before MSN messenger, Gay.com and Fridae, together with its wannabe sister Axcest, infiltrated the local online cruising scene.

I could not recall much detail of the fun we had, that was because it got memorable only after the climax was out of the way. I remember we were in an embrace, he on me, and I was just waiting for him to finish the session perhaps with a comment about the hot weather and the need for a quick shower, or the amount of work waiting for him back in the office. But he held on and stayed very still. And then something very strange happened.

He started to cry.

It was a muted sob at first, coupled with intermittent sniffing, which I brushed off as the symptoms of a momentary lapse of the body’s defense system after a (good) climax. But the sobs quickly accelerated in pace and intensity, becoming more and more definite with each turn. And soon the writhing began, limbs started to shiver and then got contorted in an awkward way, as though trying hard to fight the onslaught of pain. Finally the reservoir of grief could hold no longer, and it quickly degenerated into an ensemble of acute display of defeat.

Utter defeat.

Over my body ran streams of tears that picked up my sweat along its path, before rolling off and landing on the bed. The mid afternoon sunlight filtered through the fading curtains and threw a cloak of intricate pattern of twigs and flowers on our entangled limbs, and then this peculiar matrimony of bodily deposits was complete.

I started to feel his pain, the indescribable urge to tear your aching heart out of your ribcage. Yet I have no idea what or who caused this. Perhaps I could, if he has allowed me a few years of exploring the scene, if only I know of the sheer brutality that this queer world is so capable of. But at that time, I did not move a muscle, or say a word. It didn’t seem necessary at all.

Before long, there was silence.

The stream of tears finally run dry, his eyes incapable of any further onslaughts of sorrow. Slowly, he lifted himself from me; his face was a wet clutter of twisted expressions. I looked at him and lifted my hand to trace it across his cheeks, wiping away the concoction of tears and sweat along the way. He looked back at me and broke into a weak smile.

So from the depths of the fathomless pool that had consumed him earlier, he rose again, freed and liberated, for now, from the dark water of yesterday. The sorrow had subsided, banished once again into the darkest recess of his subconscious mind. He turned and looked towards the bedroom window, and took a deep breath.

“Hey, didn’t notice the pretty curtains earlier.”

••

We didn’t meet again after that afternoon, but the image of his weak smile after the broke-down solidified in my memory as a single moment of renewed hope and new-found peace.

Life just goes on, doesn’t matter how painful it gets.

Nothing.

2007-06-10T14:12:00.000+08:00

What does five hours of hugging in the sweat-choked air of One Seven really mean?
What does saying “I’d be happy to have a boyfriend like you.” really mean?
What does sending late night ‘missing you’ SMS’s really mean?
What do 'dearie' and 'cutie' really mean?
What do virtual hugs and kisses really mean?
What does waking up at 5am and taking a 5-hour bus journey to KL really mean?
What does holding hands in the car braving a late Friday evening bumper traffic really mean?
What does taking a stroll across the KLCC park on a drizzling Saturday afternoon really mean?
What does making weird noises on my stomach while saying 'hujan' really mean?
What does falling asleep together and waking up the next morning in each other’s arms really mean?
What do all the discussions about moving to a neutral city and staying together really mean?
What does “We’ll make this work.” really mean?
What does “I love you.” really mean?
What does 'critisize' really mean?
What does "You're stressing me out" really mean?
What does cool-off period really mean?
What do you really mean?
What do I really mean?
What does anything at all really mean?

BRAVEHEART ^[105]

A Songkran Miracle

2007-04-30T22:37:00.000+08:00

Perhaps it’s never meant to last. I raised my legs onto the bench, wrapped my warms around them, and let my body loose its balance so that I would tip towards you. We looked each other in the eyes. Another train arrived at the Siam Skytrain station. Did we see the farewell episode playing already?

You still have powder on your face. Why the longing glance. I pulled my shirt towards you and wiped them off, slowly tracing the perfect contours of your smile. If I could also wipe away the memories of this Songkran miracle, maybe we could then happily go on our separates lives, you a figure in a 9-million strong population, and me an unsuspecting tourist on a festive sightseeing.

We shall never have tried the bitter-sweet taste of a tight embrace in an even more tightly packed G-Star, or the wicked sensation of ice-cold water down the spine, or locking hands in the cinema, or running across the water fountain in front of Paragon.

But your first smile in 39 Underground, I will bring with me to the grave.

It’s never meant to be, why did we hang on. Staring out a quiet KL skyline towards your city, and then at the AirAsia website, I realized the missed calls won’t do, doesn’t matter how many times we exchange them everyday.

It’s never meant to be, why did we hang on.

BRAVEHEART ^[104]

Mandi Manda: A Map of Indulgence

2007-04-18T00:26:00.000+08:00

(click on images for larger views)

In celebration of more than a year of undivided support from the sauna-going population of KL, Mandi Manda has embarked on a new wave of improvement that sees the opening of an entirely new maze area in Mandi Manda, complete with more rooms and the introduction of a themed dark room dedicated to S&M worshippers. Fans can also look forward to a gym and web surfing section that are planned for the old maze area. Not quite close to Thailand and Singapore yet but we're getting there.

What We All Aspire To Be ...

2007-04-11T23:01:00.000+08:00

Heartbreak Needles

2007-04-07T00:53:00.000+08:00

“We prefer that you close your eyes to avoid any accidents.”

The doctor’s voice was as calm as the sea, but the evil apparatus in his right hand signaled a fast approaching storm. I held tight to both sides of bed and for a brief moment, forgot again why I was subjecting myself to such a trauma.

The tri-beveled hypodermic needle soon punctured a hole on my skin’s surface. Its sharp edges tasted blood and quickly set off to work, maneuvering in a repetitive back and forth movement to cut away fibrous tissues as far as its blades could reach. The pain got worse with every twitch; I felt tears collecting in my tightly shut eyes, and so opened them slightly to release some pressure just in time to catch sight of blood-stained cotton buds being removed from my face.

And then I remembered why I need to do this.

Subcision is painful, but as half as bad as heartbreaks.

Rainy Sunday Morning

2007-04-01T10:42:00.000+08:00

I was awaken by the gentle tapping of raindrops on the window. Turned and found the twin towers gone. The weather had finally taken a pleasant change. Pulled the comforter up all the way to my nose and realized that I hadn’t had the aircond switched on. The dirty laundry from last night was still lying on the floor.

Said my goodbyes to hot, stuffy nights.

Said my goodbyes to a 7-year-old relationship.

Caught with Pants Down!

2007-03-18T14:36:00.000+08:00

KUALA LUMPUR: It was an afternoon of chaos and pandemonium at Fitness First Manulife. At 3:45pm, the manager received an urgent call from the front desk staff relating a horrifying event that had taken place at the men changing room.

“I was utterly speechless! How could anyone do such a revolting act to the poor mannequin?” A member who declined to be named was heard commenting immediately after the faithful event.

“I hope they put the person who’s responsible for such grievances and shame to justice!” Another lady gymmer who had managed to catch a glimpse of the gruesome sight said in between tears.

Rumours had it that the management had initially taken active steps to stop the spread of this news by issuing a 3-year free membership to all gymmers who were (un)fortunate enough to witness the event. However, all staff had declined to comment further.

In an unexpected press release issued later on the same day, the management then expressed shock and regret of the event, and has pledged commitment to taking active measures in creating a more conducive environment to allow more uninhibited expression of physical attraction between human male gymmers, which they believe will put a stop to these unspeakable acts.

I Cannot

2007-03-14T13:17:00.000+08:00

I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.

But I will.

BRAVEHEART ^[103]

A Dimple Festival

2007-02-23T17:29:00.000+08:00

The neighbourhood hummed a subtle tune of peace and desolateness that seemed to spiral deeper into the wee hours of the morning this first night of the year of the boar. I emerged from the compound of my apartment and caught you standing across the street from the guard house.

It seemed like ages ago since I last did this, but it certainly didn’t feel out of place. We would stick to the universally accepted agenda of going for a drink, evaluating the chemistry, have sex or say goodbye.

Sometimes, it doesn’t work.

••

I landed on the fabulously cozy bed and let out a helpless gasp as I lost all mental facilities to fight the urge of joining the throng of other IKEA shoppers in various embarrassing acts like taking photos while lying down in the bathtub or in front of their dream kitchen, or having a make-believe reunion dinner around the dining table, or struggling intensely to figure out how the LACK storage sticks to the wall with no visible support. You came to my rescue, failed miserably and landed right next to me. We stayed in this position for time immemorial, digging ourselves further into the comforter, legs dangling freely off the edge of the bed. Our eyes met.

“Let’s do it here!”

“ … ”

••

You were frantically toying with my hand, scratching and slapping and pinching it, as though it was the puppet we saw at the children section just now. I moved our trolley further into the giant cargo lift to disappear behind the equally gigantic ang moh in front of me, and hopefully away from the glances of other shoppers. Felt like ramming the Gorm storage long post into you, and then you flashed me that cheeky dimpled smile which melted the post and brought me down with it.

••

“Can I hug you?”

You turned over and were already resting half your weight on me before I could say yes. The timber strip flooring beneath us felt dusty from the renovation works that were still in progress, but nothing could really hold our passion back. As I felt your lips roam my neck, I looked out the floor-to-ceiling window and caught the KL skyline, and was confused if my short of breath was because of you or the breathtaking view outside. At this instant, the world was divided between a stuffy empty bedroom with two naked guys making love on the floor, and a peaceful 4am morning this second night of Chinese New Year.

I'll need to get the blinds installed soon, and the bed fixed as well of course.

••

The neighbourhood hummed a subtle tune of peace and desolateness that seemed to spiral deeper into the wee hours of the morning this third night of the year of the boar. You jumped out of your car and came around to open the door for me. It still couldn’t be opened from within. There was a certain unmistakable sorrow in the air as you walked me to the guardhouse, we didn’t make the effort to put them into words.

I stood there at the pavement, long after you left, your dimpled smile stuck in my mind like a ravenous leech on a juicy limb, and then I wondered if the whole episode ever happened.

BRAVEHEART ^[103]

How To Jump Queue At The Cinema Ticketing Lines Without Being Cursed At

2007-01-03T21:19:00.000+08:00

Just proceed to the (normally) underutilized ticket reservation counter, of course! Didn’t book a ticket? Just pretend you did la! Here’s how it work:

You: Hi! I’ve got a booking for ABC movie. My booking number is ...

(Now, cook up an imaginary 6-digit booking number in your mind, and say it out loud slowly, number by number. For added convincing power, you may consider shutting your eyes intermittently as though concentrating hard to fish the number out from the deepest fold of your cerebral cortex. Alternatively, you may save this number onto your mobile phone before hand and flash it to the staff instead.)

Staff: (Keys in your booking number into the ticketing system that should promptly return no results, as expected) Cannot find la!

(If the imaginary booking number miraculously returns a valid booking, forget your movie and run to the nearest TOTO outlet to buy a lottery ticket. You’re next-in-line for the multi-million ringgit jackpot.)

You: Cannot be! I just booked yesterday only. Can you check again? This is like the fifth time already that you couldn’t find my booking!

(For extra dramatic effects, the above line should be delivered while going through a colourful emotional journey that starts with shock, then painful recollection, and finally anger. Gifted drama queens will find this as natural as ordering a Starbucks frappo.)

Staff: What to do. I think the system was down yesterday. That’s why.

(The staff shall remain unapologetic, as expected. However, you should show no signs of giving up. Insist that your booking number be checked and rechecked to confirm.)

You: Can you check again ah please? I purrrrrposely wrote down this number yesterday in case I forget you know. How can cannot find? Check again laaaaaaaa.

(After the third try, he/she would have given up and switch over to the regular instant ticket purchasing screen instead. You will now be entitled to select any of the seats available to the long lines of customers with no bookings. Minus all the waiting, of course.)

(Now go practise.)

Climax Number 39

2006-12-23T11:09:00.000+08:00

If all the posing and flirting and squealing and naked parties and orgies are getting to you this 2006 Christmas, head over for some jamming sessions with the new Bodyjam Release 39! It's just wicked.

Warm up:

Isolations:

Bollyjam #1:

Bollyjam #2:

Those Words Unspoken

2006-12-14T14:49:00.000+08:00

Those words unspoken, reflected in their full glory on the full length mirror of the studio during an over-crowded Bodyjam class, more vivid than the over-zealous screams of the instructor. I turned back and caught sight of your intense glance before the recovery track, why do you look sad.

"You enjoying your first Bodyjam class?"

Those words unspoken, like misty breath that expired in the warmth of the refreshing showers just as soon as they were exhaled. We pressed our right palms on our own sides of the frosted glass partition, and savoured the quiet passion of stolen pleasures as we imagined the partition out of existence.

"The water is getting cold."

Those words unspoken, just a painful longing to break through a dry throat that quickly dispersed into the breezy post-dinner night air. I stared ahead and watched as our briefly crossing paths of life start to untangle and went on separate ways again. My hands bent involuntarily in your direction as we neared our goodbyes, but they would never have the courage to meet yours, not in the company of your rightful owner.

"Till we meet again?"

Hearts are often broken
When there are words unspoken
In your soul there's answers to your prayers

Whitney Houston - Waiting to Exhale

Tales from Taipei: A Trail of Cigarette Smoke

2006-12-06T14:18:00.000+08:00

A trail of dreamy cigarette smoke lifted gently from the depth of the suffocating darkness tucked in a quiet corner of the corridor, then lingered hesitantly around the muted lamp hanging off the ceiling, before finally dissipating into the still cold air of the darkroom maze.

"Maybe the next one."

He awoke with a piercing pain on his right index finger. The expiring cigarette was biting into his crumbled fingers with its last breath, before its ashes finally collapsed and scattered carelessly onto the floor. For the longest time, he stared blankly into the spiralling void in front of him, and forgot momentarilly what sense were all these making. The sofa beneath him suddenly became unbeareably uncomfortable for his feeble limbs, and he shifted his weight and plunged once again into its sunken cushions.

"You have witnessed the passing of my youth."

Further down the corridor, a door creaked open slightly, just wide enough to allow someone to slide out. He took a deep breath and welcomed the distinct stale smell coming from the room, from which nestled pleasant memories he would helplessly bring again and again into focus. It was these episodes that had made life so vividly real for him, yet they would only now remind him, with every fresh recollection, of the strikingly painful contrast they had with his pathetic existence now.

"I remember someone."

He was lost even within this familiar surrounding of which he had frequented since as long as he could remember. A sudden coldness enveloped him, and he struggled to lift his arms upwards closer to the lamp, throwing shadows of himself onto the blackened partition walls. And then he remembered the discoloured splotches on his arms that he had tried so hard to conceal, and sank low back into the sofa again.

"What time is it now?"

Into the long night of darkness he sat, waiting, patiently, tirelessly, for the last climax of his life, until the night arrived, when all the grieving voices within him sighed unanimously for the last time and fell silent.

Whatever our struggles and triumphs, however we may suffer them, all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper.
- Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden

Tales from Taipei: The Hotspring

2006-12-04T21:14:00.000+08:00

A quiet breeze swept down from the late October night sky, gently climbed the cascading flow of steaming hot spring water making way into the big pool, before caressing the Hokkien-speaking uncle in deep thought by the pool, and then it twirled playfully past another one who’s just stripped and walked in, and finally settled down on my lap.

“Shall we?”

Tales from Taipei: A Pussy Story

2006-11-05T12:17:00.000+08:00

Pussy was confused.

Right from under the piles of unrewarding rubbish that she was rummaging through, she was certain she had heard the call for her, and had immediately crossed the road to the rows of dining tables arranged along the walkway of the busy Xi Men Ding shopping district, and in the midst of her enthusiasm, nearly got run over by a flashy beamer on the way to hell.

But now, while she looked up intently to the source of the call just a few seconds ago, she was merely staring into rejection and disappointment. Her growling stomach signaled her to meow for attention and assurance that she had not heard wrong, yet only the faintest squeal broke through, drowned now in a fresh burst of laughter triggered by perhaps a joke told, not just by anyone, but by the one diner who had fished her out from the rubbish dump.

Before her extended presence attracted spurts of water or shoos from the rest of the crowd, she would need to leave the table and head back across the road again.

But she kept her ears propped up helplessly, for she would ran across again as soon she was called.

Never mind the rejection.

Pecah

2006-11-03T00:04:00.000+08:00

“Lolitaaaaaaaaaaa!”

A thundering supersonic boom, started off as the most innocent rumble, rose into a tidal wave of epic proportions, and came rushing towards me. Traveling at the blinding speed of light, it started about 20 feet away, right from the entrance to the men changing room, rapidly picking up magnitude and force, past the sporty tai-tai browsing a pathetically aging collection of VCD titles at the lounge, and a group of giggly Bodyjammers waiting at the glass door to the studio, before finally hitting me.

I thought I went into an immediate cardiac arrest.

Fighting to contain the rapid spread of immobilization of my limbs due to the abrupt interruption of oxygen-rich blood flow, I maintained my composure and started turning my head sideways, left and then right, then left again, in a faithful and hopefully convincing act of searching for that illusive lady who seemed to have ignited such passion and excitement in the Bodyjam instructor this evening.

Unfortunately I had not seen the last of the paralyzing display of public shame. I might as well have been paraded around wrapped in a rainbow flag. (But then most Malaysians are too ignorant to know what that signifies anyway.)

“Come on, Lolita! Jam it up, Lolita!”

I would need to twist my limbs out of their sockets to jam any harder, that is if the staff had not come to escort me out on suspicion of designer drug abuse, yet the encouragement was incessant, strikingly crystal clear against the dizzying beat of the cardio through recovery tracks.

It must be the sleeveless tee I wore today.

“I noticed you normally don’t shower one. How to cruise you like that?!”

The aftershock resonated against the walls of crowded changing room, bouncing off the wooden lockers and reaching the furthest and most remote corners of the steam room, the toilet cubicles and the shower stalls. And I was promptly administered a pinch on the left arm.

Then there was a suffocating dead silence, and I saw an uncle dropped his fresh underwear.

“Oh! Have you met Michael, er I mean Michelle already? By the way, where is your sister ah? Still jerking off in the showers ah?”

The uncle seemed to be having some trouble putting on his underwear.

“Ah! You please remember to come for my pre-Christmas class ok! The theme is going to be RED and WHITE! I promised the gals already! What? Wear this ah? Can la! Just wear the top with white underwear.”

I picked up my phone and pretended to make a call, while rapidly strategizing an escape plan.

“Boyfriend calling is it? What? Mum waiting for you for dinner ah? Ok lah, see you next week ok!”

The uncle finally managed to pull his underwear all the way up after executing a few balancing hops with one leg in the air.

I pretended to be shy while passing by him.

He’s kinda cute, I hope he’s gay too.

* All names have been changed to protect the sisterhood's integrity.
* 'Pecah': A Malay word that means 'Broken'. Used widely among the gay community to refer to the disclosure of one's homosexual tendendies, intentionally or otherwise.

Kakiku: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

2006-10-26T23:24:00.000+08:00

(Click on image for larger view)

Okay, maybe this time the experts can go figure out yourselves what's new with Kakiku. Compare this with the previous update and have a little spot-the-difference game ya!

原来台北

2006-10-24T16:05:00.000+08:00

彩虹会馆黑房区的走廊边，在一处较黑暗的角落里坐着一位连行动都不是很方便的老头子，大概钓鱼钓了老半天都没成绩，闷得呼呼大睡起来。时光在他身上早已流失，在一抬头一叹气之间，他努力争取人生的最后一场高潮。华丽的偶像剧和娱乐节目背后，原来台北也有彷徨。

在西门町的一间小戏院里与林林和丽嘉观看了一出热门的同志电影《盛夏光年》。开戏五分钟前来了位二十多岁的女生，一个人拿着爆米花汽水坐了在我旁边的座位上，在最感人的那一幕也只是静静地拿着手巾往眼里擦。260多万人口的大都市里，原来台北也有寂寞。

公司会馆里讶异地发现了中年人士们的天堂。贱肉横生的身躯乘着暖暖运作的电梯，从黑漆漆的电影间到灯火光明的餐厅，从播着过气台语歌的karaoke房里到热烘烘的洗澡间。我们立时变成了小孩子。全世界可以崇拜青春洋溢的乳牛群和帅哥族，可是原来在台北这，小熊们才是上等的好货色。

有一晚闯进了228和平公园，想象自己去到了《孽子》里五十年前精彩缤纷的黑暗天地里。原来除了厕所里的几只赏鸟族和随着行人道默默兜圈的那零零碎碎的影子们，曾经热闹过的莲花池早已在最后一根莲花拔起后失去光辉。

Funky 同志吧那夜被挤到了舞池边的巨型波音机旁弯着腰观看了一场还算精彩的签唱会，然后疯狂地随着强劲的中文音乐起舞。原来徐若瑄真的会唱歌。

旅程的最后一晚在西门町买了一串香喷喷的烤鱿鱼一个人坐了在行人道旁的梯级慢慢地一口一口将它吃完。不远处陪着我的有一位低着头猛按手机的女学生，一位闭着眼听着ipod摇着头的男生，一位在歇着息捡空瓶子为生的阿嘛，还有一位大概神志不清在街边便跳舞便唱歌的中年男人。在人潮不断的周六欢乐时光里，原来台北也有孤独。

筹备了五个月的台湾旅程，原来一转眼间就过去了。

The Uncle With Asamboi-Seed-Crushing Chest

2006-10-11T12:14:00.000+08:00

I was having trouble conceiving a good reason why your eyes had lingered a little too long over me, or rather around the vicinity of my upper body. In a frenzied rush of post-Bodyjam cleaning and changing, I could find an endless array of tasty spots where I would lay my eyes on in this space choked with sweaty bodies in various stages of undress, but of course, I kept them focused on Sindy, who was just explaining frantically why he absolutely needed one full hour to clean up after unceremoniously abandoning me in the middle of the first recovery track.

You reached for your Adidas tee, but didn’t look like you would put it on anytime soon. (Gosh, that chest could crush an asamboi seed.) Sindy was finally done and left, while I simultaneously wrapped myself in a towel, did a quick check to see if I had anything weird stuck to my chest or abs, and bit my lips as a gentle reminder that this is definitely no Kakiku or Mandi-Manda and overdue glances are not to be mistaken as invitations for sex.

Not that the showers or the steam sauna are safe enough for this anyway.

I think I need a much more sensitive radar to sort out the queer folks here, I thought, as I slipped into an empty cubicle, hung my towel, and turn on the showers.

With the curtains drawn, of course!

Kakiku: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

2006-10-09T20:46:00.000+08:00

(Click on image for larger view)

Keeping the momentum going, Kakiku recently unleashed its final piece of previously unexplored real estate with the introduction of a freshly renovated foam shower area. This built-for-purpose action zone is tiled on the walls all the way to the ceiling, promising fuss-free fun for the fans of slimy, foamy action and even easier maintenance for the staff.

While this dedicated foam party area seems appropriate, extra revenue from a wildly loyal fan base was also invested in the oddly conceived idea for an adjoining washroom-like area built with a set of urinals and sinks.

No more reasons to pee while getting your assets savoured during the foam party, perhaps? How thoughtful.

Jam It, Baby!

2006-09-29T23:35:00.000+08:00

“Oh my! Do we only have just one guy in the class today?” The Bodyjam instructor drew a fleeting glance at me and move on to scan the rest of the turnout, dressed, this Friday evening, in an assortment of dance pants and tracksuits, tank tops and vests, and eager for some action.

And then I guess he caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror, and promptly corrected himself with a giggle, “Oh! I meant, just two.”

But the music was already starting to play, and soon we were so collectively drowned in the adrenaline rush of the super posy smooth moves of the latin track that genders and sexual preferences were as irrelevant as a pillow on the dance floor.

This is absolutely more heavenly than group sex in the dark room!

“啊"一声之后

2006-09-04T22:59:00.000+08:00

星期日傍晚，任淫淫撇开泡沫派对里一堆堆纠缠不清的身躯，唉声叹气地独自闯进了隔壁的炮房区。

“今天怎么搞的，来来去去都是那几件猪扒，太没趣了嘛，”她将毛巾松了开再费心思地包好，让一丝丝撩人的发菜与洁白的股沟若隐若现。

炮房区里显得冷清得连冷气机的低哼声也清楚听到，可是一扇扇房门却是关锁着的，看来生意还是不错。

踮起了脚尖让耳朵紧贴着房门，任淫淫在狭窄的走廊绕了一圈，听到了一波波逼切的啃噬声，柔弱的呻吟声还有激情的热吻声，听得她心头痒痒地，恨不得发功将房门全都推倒，好让她一睹为快后，再参与其中。

这时右排第三间房有了特发事件，里面被干的那位好像配了麦克风似的，毫不掩饰地将狭窄空间里每一个高潮迭起的剧情播放出来与众姐妹们分享。一阵阵刺耳的撕裂叫声立时传偏每个角落，让冷清的炮房区再次春风荡漾。

“啊。。啊。。。啊！”最后的那一声来得特别销魂，看来离高潮不远了。

任淫淫越听就越痒，越痒就越心酸,越心酸就越愤怒。

“知道你找了头好牛为你效劳，可也没必要那么嚣张嘛！”她心想。

她念头一来，立即把嘴巴紧贴了在门缝上，准备出功反击。

“啊。。。”房里头又在喊道。

“啊！啊！！” 任淫淫不甘失弱，有样学样地开始叫了起来。加工后的叫声夸张得让人毛骨悚然。

“谁？！”房里的活动立刻停止。一阵冷风开始向外挎起，让炮房区的温度迅速猛跌。“何方妖怪！?竟那么大的担打扰本教主的好事！”

任淫淫脸色大变，没想到竟那么倒霉，今天第一次发功就惹上了教主。她站在微微震荡的房门前，一时不知所措。

在神功未爆发之前，任淫淫还是乖乖地跪了下来，满口歉意地说道，“哎呀！原来是教主您。小人任淫淫不知天高地厚，竟不小心打扰了大人，请大人别动怒，等一下我再跟您抓个三四打乳牛补回！”一口气说完就起身向炮房区门口溜去。

一枚绣花针穿过房门迅猛地射了出来，可任淫淫早就消失了。

我爱Kakiku！/ I Love Kakiku! (As translated by google.com)

2006-08-31T11:55:00.000+08:00

Oriental leader of the tiny towels under half of the pack, the curtain opened a lounge, blatantly kneel in the Koushou cousins walked in.

"Qi is so only it was gold ... hey? "She makes lateral, a man suddenly to be drawn down like a spine angle of the double beds while a single, immobile.

I can not help with big applause as a good thing, "the head of the crowd, but we have to be a leader who eat pretty jaded! "

"I know you are full of warmth between the three dishes, but you also receive! Just another bubble in the crowded party, was also shouting so loud that Menggan cows! Xiusi people really! "Yin Yin in the office next to the sour tone of jealousy and concern added a few more.

"This bad things, confident in front of me there! I finally saw the Acura lost playing time, he was a little sprite hit your foul whole, I have a bad good, "Jim sprung up from bed sheets, as Yin Yin Dazhanshenwei toward other people resorted to the embroidery needle Lane," I will let you smoke! See strokes! "

The last of the group a fright as Yin Yin delicate pale, and forced rather than shying away, but finally hid behind the A-di slim body, and they dared not come out.

"To Five other men injured sisters foul weather!" Lixia and tinkling in the side and said, "Jim and laying minute turn in the corridor do not have readily dozen months. "

"Do not steal anything just like it in a dark room under the two types of pigs!" I can containing added.

"You sense that the better! From the corridor went all out to everyone in the two read an excerpt called "sixty nine" with the Super Routuan, really like the acquisition of other people's money, which was commissioned to do a circus show touting? "Tinkling Mohaoqi forward to complain.

"It reminds me of the bar scene even dinner can be saved," Lixia cover the mouth said with a smile.

●

Good evening! Welcome to Kakiku. The Special Function starting now . Please enjoy yourself. The Special Function has starting . Yourself. Please enjoy.

●

Cordial voice broadcasting system to provide employers with warm every corner of the three-sided. Although a lot of words, to understand enough.

Tiaoliaoqilai founder of the first East, a loose mini is a treasure towels on the grounds to flush away to the entrance to the lounge. I can containing, as A-di Yin Yin and the feeling seems to have heard similar mission, Zayan disappear, only heard the sound of the corridor not far from playing sound, "unpopular sisters, it is time to start! "

我爱Kakiku！

2006-08-27T12:49:00.000+08:00

东方教主打着对折一半的迷你毛巾，掀开了休息室的门帘，大摇大摆地在众姐妹们的下跪叩首下走了进来。

“哎哟！都那么齐人吗？”她屁股一扭，整个人像是突然被抽了脊椎似的倒了在房角的双人床单上，动弹不得。

任我含不禁大拍手掌叫好，“月头的人潮多，就连我们出了名大吃的教主也要被干得精疲力尽了！”

“我知道整间三温暖都是你的菜，但你也别拼了老命嘛！刚刚在人挤人的泡沫派对里被那乳牛猛干时还喊得那么大声！真的羞死人了！”在旁的任淫淫酸溜溜的语气，嫉妒多与关心地加了几句。

“你这坏东西，还敢在我眼前出现！我好不容易遇见了极品玩得起劲时，竟被你这臭丫头撞个整，坏了我的好事，”教主从床单弹起，向着任淫淫大展神威地使出葵花宝典里的绣花针，“我今天就要让你灰飞烟灭!看招！”

绝世神功一出，吓得任淫淫花容失色，被逼左闪右避，最后还是躲在了阿娣瘦长身躯的背后，久久不敢出来。

“别为了个臭男人伤了姐妹和气嘛！”丽霞与玲玲在旁说道，“教主等一下在走廊打个转不也随手抓个半打。”

“可别抓错了像刚刚在黑房打着种的那两只猪哦！”任我含接着说。

“你还好意识说！站在走廊拼命地逢人就叫了进去看那两只在"sixty nine"着的超级肉团，好像真的是收了人家的钱，被委托做了那马戏团表演的拉客？” 玲玲没好气地怨着。

“想起那一幕连晚餐也可省下了吧，” 丽霞盖住了嘴巴笑着说。

《Good evening! Welcome to Kakiku. The Special Function starting now. Please enjoy yourself. The Special Function has starting. Please enjoy yourself.》

广播系统让老板亲切的声音传偏了三温暖的每个角落。虽然语病多多，可明白就好。

东方教主第一时间跳了起来，松开了的迷你毛巾现了宝也没理地就冲冲往休息室门口走了去。任我含，任淫淫和阿娣也好像听到了天降使命似的，一扎眼就不见了人，只听到走廊不远处传来的嬉戏声，“哎！姐妹们，又是时候开工了！”

A Sunway Sauna Dream

2006-08-19T12:37:00.000+08:00

The Martial Arts Teacher

2006-08-15T23:42:00.000+08:00

The martial arts teacher turned back to give the figure coiled up in the bench in a dark corner of the walkway a second look and was soon sitted next to it. Huddled together in the tight space forgotten amidst the chaos of a busy pre-skin night crowd on a Sunday evening, his perfume quickly worked its way into the system, and in a deep, tacit way in which feelings fused and became stronger than thoughts, generated an overpowering sense of devotion and serenity that was so unlike the wild session moments ago.

A man of few words, the martial arts teacher preferred to share self-defense tips than offer a glimpse into the dark underworlds of his emotion-scape. Yet the simulated twists of arms and interlocking limbs afforded a much celebrated reprise of the physical proximity almost too overwhelming to relate.

“Grab hold of his hand, and twist his arm to break the punch, like this.”

What about the heart? Averting the onslaught of a tireless need for reassurance seems to require much more energy than breaking the most forceful punch. Your playful hand landed on my chest, I looked down and struggled to make out a blue-black spot in the dim light.

“Go home early, this is not the place for you.”

Give me a good enough reason to stay away, Mr Martial Arts Teacher, and I promise I’ll never return.

BRAVEHEART ^[102]

The BravingKL Sauna Scoresheet

2006-08-10T22:24:00.000+08:00

Click on images for larger view

Kakiku: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

2006-07-31T21:09:00.000+08:00

(Click on image for larger view)

A relatively small update in this sixth revision of the Kakiku floor plan, with the addition of a new TV room near the private rooms area, and an increase in the number of lockers in view of increasing turnout especially on weekends.

Mr Philosophy And His Feet

2006-07-08T02:00:00.000+08:00

Your anxious toes lingered around the leg of the grand mahogany dining table, like the graceful, calculated steps of a preying tarantula, and then reached out and with one sudden, powerful pounce, held on to mine in a tight knot.

Well below the cacophony of clanking cutleries and wine glasses and excited conversations, I fought your relentless need to reiterate the lurid passion of our first session. Your mischievous glances fell like broken arrows before reaching their target, yet between staring down at my food and up at the glittering chandelier that hung low above us, I thought I had caught sight of that perfect crescent of your lips yet again.

Entangled in a lurid passion of interlocking toes, I acted against every instinct of my nature, and suffered pangs after pangs of guilt as you continued your impish assaults on my leg with increasing fervor and courage.

Right below the eyes of your partner.

So it seems the assurance of the perfect open relationship (interpreted as ‘business partners’ in your explanation) justified this rampant display of disregard of him. A muted nod of approval from him would open up a floodgate of unhinged, uncontrollable expression of admiration for everyone else except him, and unleashed now, a torrent of irreversible damage, that seemed so much less perfect than the love story that he has treasured throughout the twenty over years.

Humming along his favourite Thai music piping in from the living room, he busied himself with serving food and entertaining four other guests. I watched, from across the dining table, his rather listless expressions and muted responses which laid in contrast with the colourful and tasteful deco of the warm dwelling. His eyes told of a distant loneliness void of happiness and contentment, was he echoing the same rich emotions as the singer?

I caught your longing eyes when bidding goodbye. He avoided mine.

● ● ●

He opened the door and invited me in. Immediately, the sight of the gleaming mahogany table with the glittery chandelier hanging low above it flooded my eyes for the next few minutes. That evening when I met him, it was exactly one year back before I met you.

“Nice place!” I fingered the mini crucifixes hanging down from the chandelier. “Your partner’s not in?”

BRAVEHEART ^[101]

Counting Cocks

2006-06-19T23:04:00.000+08:00

Have you ever paid ridiculous sums of money just to be associated with numbers commonly regarded as auspicious for the Chinese? Of course, I would understand that you won’t feel secured driving around in a car with a license plat that reads ‘9413’ (literally: nine times die, one time survive), or feel blessed living in a house numbered ‘1458’ (literally: whole lifetime no prosper).

That still doesn’t mean we have to jostle with the rest of the entire straight world of oily-faced businessmen and diamond-ring adorning tai tai’s for that dream number.

No, we don’t. We simply need to redefine the word auspicious.

So here, is the list of BravingKL-approved gay-auspicious numbers for your consideration when the next car, house, hotel room or sauna visit (for the locker number) come around:

7373 (pronounced: chart sung chart sung, literally: cock thrive cock thrive)
You cannot go wrong with a thriving, throbbing cock that stands in undivided attention to the call of its master, ever ready and hungry for action.

7878 (pronounced: chart fart chart fart, literally: cock prosper cock prosper)
A prosperous cock is one that is in-demand, well-maintained and well-served. What more could you ask for?

9797 (pronounced: gau chart gau chart, literally: play cock play cock)
Yes, you’re gay and that’s what you should enjoy doing. No guarantee on the condition of the cocks, or of their respective owners though.

1197 (pronounced: yard yard gau chart, literally: day day play cock)
A cock a day keeps the PMS away.

1497 (pronounced: yard sai gau chart, literally: whole lifetime play cock)
A lifetime supply of cocks for your constant enjoyment. Now let’s hope it’s not just referring to playing your own cock.

4497 (pronounced: sai sai gau chart, literally: every lifetime play cock)
For firm believers in the concept of reincarnation, you would want to opt for this far more ambitious alternative. Technically, however, the statement still hold true even if you reborn as a straight girl.

1978 (pronounced: yard gau chart fart, literally: once play cock prosper)
It’s time to break the closet door! Come get your first taste of cock and you are on your way to earning big bucks.

Evil, evil numbers to avoid at ALL COST:

9714 (pronounced: gau chart sart sei, literally: play cock definitely die)
Go ahead and book this if you’re gay curious but decide to stay a virgin for the rest of your life.

1157 (pronounced: yard yard mm chart, literally: everyday no cock)
The curse many of us would rather die than to bear with. It’s various iterations like 57 and 75 are also a no-no.

1457 (pronounced: yard sei mm chart, literally: whole lifetime no cock)
The gay man’s ultimate curse, to be avoided at all cost.

And now, can you think of anymore to add to this list?

Kaku

2006-06-07T11:53:00.000+08:00

Mataku kaku, dibiarkan lemas dalam lautan gambaran yang kini bagaikan anganan yang kian terluntur warnanya, detik demi detik, hingga yang tinggal cuma imbasan memori bersebaran dari episod lalu. Namun sejauh pandangan, mataku terus berjuang, menunggu sekelip sinaran harapan.

Tanganku kaku, dibiarkan berulang-alikan di tengah-tengah udara dalam kemalapan cahaya lilin, bagaikan dedaun kering yang kehilangan arah. Belasan tubuh berganti timbul dan hilang, tak satu yang mampu mencecah sentuhan kulitku. Namun selagi terasa kelembapan udara, tanganku terus berjuang, menunggu segenggam jejari yang tulus.

Kakiku kaku, dibiarkan berayauan di celah-celah tarian bebayang, di sudut-sudut terpencil, dari lorong sempit ke bilik gelap penuh aksi. Kepenatan terasa terlampau. Namun selagi terasa kedinginan lantai, kakiku terus berkeliaran mengejar destinasi yang maya, menunggu sesudut halangan manis yang dijanjikan.

Hatiku kaku, dibiarkan bogel dikelilingi harapan and janji kosong yang tajam, bersebaran dari setiap sudut and penjuru. Kepahitan datang membawa pilu, mencemari keghairahan yang hanya bersinggah singkat di setiap ruang sempit ini. Namun selagi terasa aliran emosi, jantungku terus berdengup menunggu seiris cerita dongeng yang kekal abadi.

Kaku. Dibiarkan kaku.

The Fisherman Story

2006-05-31T15:23:00.000+08:00

Miss Mei Li’s expression was to die for. Contorted in a wicked blend of confusion, disbelief and concern, she clipped my workbook with just two fingers, lifted it slightly from her desk and then dropped it with a purposeful flick to send it sliding against the glass surface and finally coming to rest near the far edge of her table.

Rearranging her facial features in preparation for speech, she finally asked: “Why do you write this kind of story?”

The pressing inquisition was delivered with a tinge of anger and disgust in her voice, my fault it seemed, for having dragged her into the little twisted world of this eleven-year-old, of which after having a taste of, she could not possibly have gotten past her conscience to just ignore.

I could not recall what I said. Standing in front of the class braving the collective attention of forty pairs of eyes eager for some action on a boring extended afternoon session, my little mind could not comprehend this horrid consequence that seemed to have stemmed from a short composition submitted just the day before. What seemed more vivid while I continued to hang my head low during that awful fifteen minutes was a little spot of mud on my semi-retiring off-white shoes which I had missed concealing with white chalk that was stolen from the black board during recess.

Miss Mei Li quickly got bored of this fruitless inquest, the victim seemed redrawn in his own world, still, and could be brewing yet another shocker that may further taint the impressive record of this perfectly disciplined, well-mannered and well-dressed class of hers.

Perfect, except for this weird one whose shoes quickly became an eyesore the first day she caught sight of them since she took over from that no-good Mrs Tan.

And so I was dismissed to return to my seat. My workbook was never to be seen again. Perhaps she had set it on fire, forever banishing it from her memories in a self-denying bid to nurse her aching conscience, and I never quite write that kind of story anymore.

… In the evening, the fisherman pulled his boat to shore. He only caught three fishes today. He was sad. He took the three fishes back home. He found a rope at home. He didn’t find his wife. So, he left the three fishes on the table for his wife. After that, he used the robe and put it around his neck, and he hanged himself.

Kakiku: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

2006-05-29T15:54:00.000+08:00

(click on image for larger view)

In the fifth revision of the Kakiku floor plan, this friendly and unpretentious sauna has yet again upheld its pleasantly adaptive and progressive approach with the introduction of a misty jungle room, and a rearrangement of the locker area in a bid to improve its floor area usage, which sadly, continues to be its biggest shortcoming.

Just Another Caller

2006-05-27T14:58:00.000+08:00

Anonymous Caller: Hi.

Braving: *notes unfamiliar mobile number* Hi?

Anonymous Caller: Erm.. May I know who’s on the line?

Braving: You’re calling my number and you don’t know who’s on the line?

Anonymous Caller: Oh, actually I was looking through my phone book and noticed that I used to call your number quite often. So I was wondering ...

Braving: Whoever I am, obviously the answer is not important anymore right now.

Anonymous Caller: Yeah, but... *starts mumbling*

Braving: Ok. Bye!

Don't waste time chasing lost memories, goodbye episodes don't happen for no reason.

Two Monologues & A Conversation

2006-05-21T01:35:00.000+08:00

Braving: Oh gosh! *drags luggage into room, throws open lid in one deafening thud & starts pulling dirty laundry out* It’s so nice to be back! But I forgot how hot KL is! You know it never get anywhere above 15 degrees in San Fran, even when it was all bright and sunny outside and I had to remember my sunscreen before leaving the hotel room.

Roy: *collapses on top of dirty laundry on the floor and starts wriggling about* I can’t shake this hottie from work off my mind. *stares dreamily at phone* Oh gosh he’s got such strong arms. Here, look at this SMS that I sent him the other day. *shoves phone into face of Braving* I know he’s married and all, but do you think he would by any chance guessed that I have feelings for him? I’m so worried that I would freak him out.

Braving: *ignores phone in face and frowns while flipping through photos on camera in blinding speed* I thought four days were enough time to cover all the attractions, yet with all the excellent planning and organizing far ahead of the trip, I don’t understand why I could only squeeze 30 minutes to explore the gay district. However, seeing hunky uncles holding hands whispering sweet nothings into each others’ ears, lesbian couples locking lips bidding farewell, and gay sisters buying flowers from the street vendors are absolutely fabugalistic!

Roy: *buries face in phone* I didn’t get to see him today. He’s on leave. *digs into Braving's luggage* Erm, so you got some extra chocolates here, do you mind if I give one pack to him?

Braving: *caught sight of a brochure in the wastepaper basket* Oh are we having Japanese tonight? Reminds me of that last meal I had in Houston, with the Asian guy I told you about. It’s painful finding someone I like so much who is half the world away from me. I wonder what he’s doing right now. *stares dreamily at ceiling*

Roy: The other day I caught sight of his cock while we were peeing next to each other. *cups hand to hold imaginery thick rod* It was all hairy and black, but I could die for the chance to blow him right there and then. He just keeps adjusting it like all the time! I bet it grows REALLY big when it’s hard.

Braving: Gosh, you know I spent 8 bucks for a little cup of seafood cocktail at the pier but absolutely enjoyed it while shivering myself silly in the late evening chilly breeze looking at hungry seagulls that didn’t seem to be afraid at us tourists at all. *shows blurry photos of seagulls in the midst of a foodfight*

Roy: *puts cupped hands with imaginery thick rod really close to face and peers through fingers* His wife must be the luckiest gal alive! He was asking me the other day if condoms come in extra large sizes, I told him how to look for them, but then he said he’s not using any lately coz they’re trying to have their first child.

Braving: I’m missing San Fran already. *spreads visitors brochures all over the bed and spills them onto the floor together with the dirty laundry, chocolates, shoes, electronic gadgets & toiletries* I wanna go find a job and live there for a few years.

Roy: *throws phone down after catching sight of the clock* Hey! Are we going to the sauna today?

Braving: *shoves visitors brochures, camera, dirty laundry, chocolates, shoes, electronic gadgets & toiletries back into the luggage and shuts lid in one deafening thud* Oh! Oh! Who’s driving?

When The Son Goes Down

2006-05-12T12:14:00.000+08:00

When the Son goes down, the first snippet of hair had long fallen, and so, the solitary moments of choking boredom in the room, defined by frozen pizzas, senseless chatroom conversations and TV programs, ended its torturous course. Houston days suddenly became much more bearable with the promise of passionate reunions, enlightening conversations and interactive meals.

When the Son goes down, this two-month-long journey has already exhausted its wonders, and so, the tireless heart makes one last attempt to register the various blissful sensations that have tickled its senses, from 6pm stubbles rubbed against the eager neck, from the welcoming body wrapped around longing arms, from playful fingers combing soft black hair and from longing lips roaming the reassuring curves of the shoulders.

When the Son goes down, all that was left behind was a solitary figure standing on the pavement on a breezy Tuesday night. Let the warmth of the last hug dissipate into the wind, allow for the final kiss to surrender its moisture into the air, banish the painful last moments of farewell and the sight of a departing car into the most remote corner of the memory, lock away pangs of guilt of meticulously stolen pleasures, but forever cherish the misty memories.

Memories that were Houston skies on these 2006 summer nights.

BRAVEHEART ^[100]

Houston Highlights

2006-05-07T08:53:00.000+08:00

Sweaty butt cracks
Busy trolley along overstocked racks

The BravingKL Relationship Grid

2006-04-27T10:08:00.000+08:00

Confused by the mixed signals? Frusfrated with broken promises? Retreating from hot pursuits? Bogged down by unwelcomed commitments? Try out the BravingKL Relationship Grid to sort out your feelings and find your bearings.

First, go through the following four sets of statement. For each set, select the appropriate letter to describe your relationship.

SET 1: Physical Attraction
* Select H for High physical attraction
* Select L for Low physical attraction

SET 2: Emotional Attraction
* Select H for High emotional attraction
* Select L for Low emotional attraction

SET 3: Commitment
* Select C for Committing
* Select N for Non-commiting

SET 4: Arrangement
* Select M for Monogamous
* Select P for Polygamous

Now, fill in the boxes below with the letters that you have selected above. The four letters will now combine to form your Relationship Type.

Next, locate your Relationship Type from the BravingKL Relationship Grid below:

Couldn't make sense of it still? Well, apparently I'm struggling with a few of them as well. Suggestions will be warmly welcomed, otherwise try the analysis below, and let me know what you think:

Type HHCM: The Newly Weds
A physically and emotionally charged couple tied in a highly committing, monogamous relationship for what seemed like eternal bliss. This is the perfect arrangement made in heaven, the epitome of human dynamics fit for romance novels and childhood fantasies, which unfortunately is out of reach for most mortals. Cherish every passing moment but do accept the eventual shift to a more stable type LHCM.

Type HHCP: The Occasional Wanderer
A variation of type HHCM, except that it is not as strictly monogamous as one would idealizes. Embrace the virtues of occasional ignorance of the mostly secretive wandering of the heart and imagine you did not notice the strand of foreign hair, or the unfamiliar perfume scent on his undies, for you can rest assure that you still occupy a large chunk of the real estate in his heart, and claim the most airtime for his attention and love.

Type HHNM: The Insecure Prince
In a highly physical and emotional relationship, the combination of low commitment and monogamy makes as much sense as guys who visit gay saunas just to surf the web (unless they are undercover Utusan reporters, of course). Perhaps the only thing stopping you from upgrading this relationship to a type HHCM is a burning worry of an overly insecure heart bearing wounds still fresh from a recent failed episode, or the struggle to deny your emotions in the interest of various family obligations. You have clearly found your prince, yet giving your commitment is an ocean apart to happiness. Are you willing to part the Red Sea?

Type HHNP: The Fleeting Butterfly
The world is a sea of sweet-scented flowers in full bloom for the fleeting butterfly. You easily engaged in both physically and emotionally empowering relationships, yet your commitment and loyalty is a mountain of unattainable and frustrating feats no human soul will claim success to. You, the heart-breaker, the tear-jerker, the soul-destroyer, enjoy your moments while your skin still spell youthfulness and your cock still smell fresh, for it may soon be time when you wither as all the flowers that you have fed on will wither the same.

Type HLCM: The Short-Term Couple
Commitment and monogamy is perfect, but they do not hold well under the thin string of a purely physical-attraction centric relationship. The unbelievably perfect proportions of his chest, waist and cock conjure an empowering, yet often short-lived sensation of love, but no true love is achieved without a courageous venture into the unfamiliar grounds of his heart. Face it, Sister, you adore his body, but cringe to touch his heart. But it’s good as long as it lasts, so enjoy the trip.

Type HLNP: The Perfect Sex Buddy
Give yourself a pat on the back, for you have succeeded in locating the perfect buddy for a purely sexual, hassle-free, no strings attached relationship. A highly physical yet low emotional and non-committing arrangement forbids the development of complications like jealousy, hatred and revenge. Just remember to vary your sleeping partner often enough so you won’t end up just sticking to one, in case you start to develop the dreaded emotions for him.

Type LHCM: The Long-Term Partners
These are the record-breakers of the gay world, the fit-for-exhibit rare gems that have emerged stronger and more dignified from years of painstaking endurance and stubborn fortitude. While many would trace back their roots to the explosive HHCM, the physical chemistry is now mostly exhausted, and in turn replaced with deep emotional bonds from years of trials and tribulations that have seen the licks of seduction, fire of lies, and onslaught of betrayals. So now as you tug away your hormone pills, walking sticks and account books for the night, give each other the tightest hugs your body would allow, and say “Happy Anniversary dearie, I just know that the hunky Latino will not last as long.”

Type LHCP: The Open Relationship Model
While their more conservative LHCM counterparts enjoy private moments of evening walks, furniture browsing and groceries shopping together, the ever-playful LHCP couples are storming the gay scene holding signs that flaunt ‘Attached but Available’ to anyone and everyone that catches their fancy. Brushing aside apparent risks of having their relationship destroyed, LHCP couples are quick to point out the strong emotional bonds and commitments between them. But do beware of the more sinister variation – the self-denying, self-justifying, compulsively-lying pseudo-LHCPs who hide under the cloak of type LHCM and are either too afraid to face their emotions or the spanking of their ignorant partners.

Type LLCM: The Odd Couple
The LLCM couples completely baffle us. While this odd arrangement bears no semblance of physical or emotional bonds, the evident commitment and monogamy is simply out of place. Many reasons could be theorized, be it financial, the lack of options or the lack of confidence and exposure to the gay world, but if this is all but a legacy of an ancient relationship turned stale, perhaps it is really time to let go now.

Type LLCP: The Expired Couple
Held on merely by a thin string of commitment between them, the LLCP couple has long past their expiry date. Self-denial will only serve to extend the pain and frustration plus intensify the inconvenience and hatred when both the physical and emotional chemistry have fizzled away. From among your other more worthy cock/hole worshippers, just pick one to announce your vow of commitments to if you so have to, and may you kiss saunas and chatrooms goodbye.

Type LLNM: The Sisters
In the eccentric, ever-exciting relationship-scape of the gay world, the LLNM couple certainly does not fail in dropping jaws as well as other foreign attached objects like dildos and butt plugs when the unbelievably true news of their relationship was made known. As far as the dynamics of physical and emotional chemistry is concerned, this couple’s experience is no different from the heart-warming tale of giggly, hands-holding gay sisters in action. Monogamy, in this case, most probably refers to the intense obsession of mutually shared properties like skincare secrets, fashion insights and hypermarket discount coupons. Lesbians, you are not! Go find a real man.

Type LLNP: The Pretenders
No emotions, no sex, no commitment, no class! This pseudo relationship should only exist in theory and is only included here for the sake of completeness. However, during occasions of Grammy-deserving drama queen in major action, they may still fool a few uninitiated newbies.

Type HLCP, HLNM, LHNM, LHNP:
OK, you guys are just WEIRD.

So what BravingKL Relationship Type are you?

15 Short Stories From Houston

2006-04-23T12:50:00.000+08:00

1. My colleagues and I were ~~confused~~ tricked into going to Houston Downtown on a Sunday morning to discover the wonders of witnessing businesses in a period of synchronized inactivity (except for a pathetic little doughnut shop that closes at 12noon) AND the joys of establishing suicidal acquaintances with homeless beings bearing various unidentifiable bags of belongings in frantic search of loose change and the last few sips of alcoholic beverages from disposed cans in rubbish bins AND the pleasures of sharing stories of life-changing moments while seated in a circle in the middle of the road and marveling at street scenes that are COMPLETELY devoid of any sort of touristy events.

2. I bought an egg from the Contemporary Arts Museum that, when partially cracked on its top and watered, will grow from within its content, a selection of plants that could survive up to a period of five months.

3. I was booted from a cab once as a result of an extensive yet futile search for the Natural Science Museum, which is supposed to be one of the eight tourist attractions in Houston. Once again, the 30922 restaurants and their accompanying free car parks in town are NOT to be mistakenly regarded as tourist attractions.

4. My teammate and I, on numerous occasions soon after we arrived, exchanged a few rounds of contentious speech acts (aka Arguments), leading to a temporary working relationship and communication meltdown that lasted for 2 weeks (aka Except for some unintelligible grunts and sighs, there were absolutely NO verbal exchanges despite us sharing cubicles, meetings, meals, walking tours and the occasional cab rides together).

5. One evening, I embarked on a frenzied Instant Noodle cooking marathon in my room as a result of inconsistent value propositions on food packaging versus customer’s experience and failed microwave-related experiments. Casualties, which were reported within ten minutes of each other, involved five packs of instant noodles from assorted regions and flavours, seven teriyaki meatballs and two spicy chicken wings. Post-traumatic symptoms included an extensive period of appetite loss and MSG-packed breath that lasted for three days.

6. That trusty microwave, in yet another faithful evening, bore witness to one more experiment, this time due to a sudden crave for chocolate-dipped strawberries. Casualties this round involved one bottle of Hershey’s syrup (promptly discarded after the discovery of better alternatives), one bar of Hershey’s chocolate (burnt and discarded due to a mixture of inexperience in handling microwave settings and over enthusiasm) and finally one full pack of Hershey’s kisses (melted progressively on intervals of 10 seconds in the microwave and finally SUCCESS!).

7. While wandering around Hermann Park during Japan Fest, I discovered that gastronomically gifted Western girls dressed in tight black spandex wear sweating it out on taiko (Japanese traditional drum) are supposedly the IN thing now in Houston, and so are lesbian couples in Japanese tea ceremony, saggy breasts or otherwise.

8. I had dinner one evening with a friendly gay manager from my company, who, through some twisted coincidental chains of events (otherwise known as fate) fished out this blog from among the 17,980 (and growing) gay KL blogs out there, then somehow theorized that the blogger works in the same company as him, and then concluded, with ample divine intervention, that I am the blogger AND THEN, with full confidence and utmost courage, confronted the author himself, via the company mail system, into the inevitable confession. I soon found myself in the company of three more queer colleagues and their partners whose company I absolutely enjoyed. Thanks for the warm err.. exposure, Eric!

9. Four weeks after my arrival, I have managed to collect an assortment of photos of cute Asian men (in a surprisingly high frequency of occurrences all over town) in my camera thanks to self-taught yet nevertheless professional skills in spy photography, but I had to DELETE THEM ALL when a wicked colleague decided that he absolutely have to see all the wonderful photos that I have captured on my camera without any delay. I hate straight people.

10. My bed buddies have been as diverse, if not more, as the err.. meals that I’ve had. Though I’d love to believe that this was brought about by the overzealous attempts to flee from my boredom, and that deep down I could only be totally fulfilled by an Asian guy.

11. I waited a full month and a half before visiting Midtowne Spa again, that dreadful bathhouse where guys with semi-erect cocks walk around naked, or lie wanking on the bed in their private cubicles with the door ajar, or pose invitingly with their legs open ‘kangkang’ waiting for eager suitors to dominate them. I find that rather crude. It’s really no fun minus all the playful eyeing, hunting, and escaping, which even though frusfrating at times, are totally necessary for the ultimate climax.

12. I spent two hours chatting online with a guy who confessed at the end that he absolutely enjoys fucking watermelon. I’m not sure why he’s telling me this, but the last time I checked myself in the mirror, I don’t look like a rounded ~~cock~~mouth-watering juicy fruit.

13. Due to a strange but perfectly natural intolerance of my throat to plain water, I resorted to drinking flavoured green tea as the most preferred alternative after my arrival, and have since shockingly concluded that a steady diet of this beverage will cause your faeces to turn green (rather coated in a layer of green stuff) after the fourth week.

14. Just last week, in a faithful realization of Jay’s observation, a 73yo grandmother became the proud winner of a USD23mil casino jackpot and during an interview with a CNN reporter, announced that she had received two marriage proposals since the news broke. What has this got to do with me, you asked? Well nothing, except that I did spend a couple of minutes pondering the most enlightening contrast of gleaming new cash notes on weak, shriveled fingers.

15. I met a Thai guy one night (yeah, one of those rare ones here) who got so freaked out by how well I speak Thai that no explanations would settle his suspicion that I’m really one of his kind and just not admitting it. I had to show my identity card at the end before he would even touch me, that was after he did a quick check around the room for hidden cameras and potentially murderous objects like typewriters, high heel shoes and stunt guns.

Of Cobwebs And Hotel Rooms

2006-04-19T10:00:00.001+08:00

Sitting in front of my laptop in the hotel room, frantically switching windows between chatroom sessions, yahoo messenger and blog sites, my life here in Houston seems to have shrunk to such a dreary existence that I sometimes feel utterly unmotivated to even breath. In a city where you could virtually hold a chinese 9-course dinner right in the middle of the road in downtown after office hours, and where folks whose sole idea of entertainment is eating out and growing fat, suddenly the whole notion of walking down Bukit Bintang, never mind its limited charms, becomes wildly exhilarating. Sure, you may have an entire gay neighborhood to yourself, but that also mean that hooking up is never more than a few doors away, leaving saunas pathetically deserted and discos few and far between. The good men are long gone I believe, grabbed by possessive, marriage-minded partners who sole purpose in life is to produce home-cooked meals to feed their husbands, while the weird and dysfunctional ones remain available to haunt whichever poor souls unlucky enough to cross their paths.

Now do allow me the luxury of busying myself with brushing off cobwebs that are starting to collect around my feet. And you’ll hear more about the weird men soon.

If You Are Thirsty In The Next Millenium...

2006-04-18T12:37:00.000+08:00

Ramblings No. 98

2006-04-11T07:31:00.000+08:00

I felt my body being tossed over. Took me a while to register where I was as I struggled to open my eyes and make sense of the dead quiet of the night. The unfamiliar setting, strangely more comfortable than the bed in my hotel room, had the presence of another company, who was just now positioned under the blanket below me, and busy savoring his find there. I could never have had the physical capacity to fight his enthusiasm, regardless of whether or not it was what seemed like four in the morning, not at that time, and again, not in the next morning, where at the same time, I had turned to the windows and caught sight, beyond the Venetian blinds, of pine trees swaying carelessly in the wind. I was then fixed a very relaxing Jacuzzi bubble bath to tickle my numb senses, looked on by two very eager Giant Schnauzers who hungrily licked up all the foam that I would carelessly flicked in their direction, and soon afterwards, came to me when I was at the pool with tattered tennis balls in the mouth begging to play fetch.

Three loads over the span of thirteen hours, I turned to look at him as he took the junction out from his sub-division, and wondered if it was just yesterday that we had said hi to each other in the chatroom.

I don’t know about you, but at times like this, I’m so fucking glad I’m gay.

The Stop Sign

2006-04-10T11:55:00.000+08:00

“Stop sulking!” Glass Door rolled her eyes and snapped at Stop Sign. “Your emotions, seething red, or otherwise, mean nothing to no one besides yourself. You could lie there till your colours fade and your metal corrodes away, and all that’s left is a pile of metal dust that eventually disperses off into the wind, or you could just quit it and get back to work!”

Good Evening Houston

2006-04-08T08:44:00.000+08:00

Signed off at 6:30pm from a deserted office on a Friday evening when even the cleaning lady was already done with her chores. Thought of my weekend plans as I took the 5-min walk back to the hotel but got too absorbed by the sight of lusty patches of greens on trees that I swore were perfectly bald just last week, and the random patterns of flowers dotting a perfectly manicured patch of lawn on both sides of the pavement, and how the setting sun seemed to have positioned itself to appear like a blinding lightbulb on the rooftop of a gated apartment.

Ok, I'm going to the chatroom for some inspirations.