Monday, March 29, 2010

Noisy Fucker.

No this isn't an epithet (tho it may be under other circumstances) or a bitch fest rant against some imbecile. Rather, it's one of those random thoughts that come to mind unbidden while doing random things like checking the status of the remaining auctions on eBay or taking a leak. Toilet intellect at its finest. It isn't rocket science but it sure as hell is entertaining.

I'm literally talking about noisy.. fuckers. You know the ones who make lots of noise when they fuck. We all know sex is (supposed to be) an enjoyable affair. That, along with the feeling of intimacy one derives from fucking (hopefully someone special) are about the main reasons why people fuck when pro-creating is the last thing on their mind. Alright, sometimes sex is abysmal. That can't be helped, some people just have to suck. Luck of the draw.

So yes I guess one of the corollaries about sex being enjoyable is that the participants (ie: the fuckers) usually feel a need to express their satisfaction cum pleasure while fucking which is done visually (hence the orgasmic look) and orally through various sounds ranging from pants, incoherent grunts, whispered mushy words or porno commentaries.

Which like I said is understandable. After all, no one wants to feel like he's fucking or being fucked by a guy with a dead pan expression and to whom surrendering to ecstatic throes of passion entails measured grunts. There's a word for people who dig sex like that and that's called necrophilia. Though I can hardly imagine what sex with a zombie would be like or called. The concept already sounding like a grotesque cross between a b grade 'Dawn of the dead' like horror film and a cheap porno flick where the director ran out of ideas.

So yes, I guess some noise (of the correct sort) is desirable in the man who fucks you. What I find an absolute turn off are noisy fuckers who engage in porno spiel, the kind you'd find in cheesy porn flicks with plots less substantial than the skimpy thongs the male AV stars wear. Stuff like "Want that big XXXX [prized part of the human anatomy] in your [add description] hot hole?" "Yeah I know you want it baby, [insert desired activity] this big [more anatomy]." You get my drift. The kind of corny conversation/ noise that detracts from the action.

I've always liked my porn without plot, because trust me porn with no plot is better than clutzy porno speak porn. Porn is watched for a purpose, you get off and that's that. If I want plot and wit, I'd catch a movie or sitcom. Porno speak belongs in the realm of the useless afflictions like shrink wrapped plastic and boiled carrots.

I can never understand guys/fuckers (in all senses of the word haha) who engage in porno speak during foreplay, much less when fucking. It's noisy, an utter turn off and an apt portrayal of a vapid mind. I don't need any stimulation that can't be provided physically with the mouth, hands and glorious cock all working in tandem to an explosive crescendo. Sex is hardly intellectual and even if intellectual stimulation during sex was the order of the day (which it will never be), I'd rather write sonnets or compose poems while fucking/being fucked.

So really, if you're one of those clueless fuckers who engages in porno speak while fucking with the mistaken notion that your vacuous commentaries about stuffing various parts of anatomy into other parts of the human body is sending your partner into seventh heaven; do the hapless fuckee a favour. Shut up and fuck. Because that's really what he/she wants you to do. And he'll love you all the more for it.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Fool again.

I've always had a love-hate relationship with boybands and their songs. Love the songs because they're so singable and easy to relate to, kind of like a convenient pick-me-up. Hate them because they're so cheesy, emoish and more often than not, when one listens to them at a point of time when you feel you can relate to the song(s), you end up feeling worse than before. There is some innate quality in the said songs that fuels emo-ness when it's least wanted.

Giant was playing a whole slew of Westlife hits. I can only imagine some aunty must have control over the music system for the night. Not the usual kind of piped in radio music you'd hear at NTUC but still I guess I've heard worse (i.e Richard Clayderman at the now defunct (in Singapore) Yaohan). Apart from the occasional song played over radio, it's been years since I last listened to Westlife.

And this particular song just got stuck in my head. Not entirely apt because I've never (since then) been in love but pretty indicative of the general mood otherwise. Can't eat your cake and have it. Can't go cold turkey and expect gravy on the side. Can't preach peace and expect it to follow. Quid pro quo.

Fool again- Westlife

Baby, I know the story,
I've seen the picture,
it's written all over your face
Tell me, what's the secret that you've been hiding?
And who's gonna take my place?
I should have seen it coming,
I should have read the signs
Anyway, I guess it's over

Can't believe that I'm a fool again
I thought this love would never end,
how was I to know?
You never told me
Can't believe that I'm a fool again,
and I who thought you were my friend,
how was I to know?
You never told me

Baby, you should've called me,
when you were lonely,
when you needed me to be there
Sadly, you never gave me
too many chances to show you
how much I care
Ooh, should have seen it coming,
I should have read the signs
Anyway, I guess it's over


About the pain and the tears
Ooh, If I could,
I would, turn back the time
Ooh yeah I should have seen it coming
I should have read the signs
Anyway, I guess it's over

Gotta buck up on my jap. Stumped by last week's worksheet. Which is not a good sign.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Oh Happy Day!!!

Life's a funny thing. Tracks once presumed to be permanent and steadfast abruptly disintegrate into nothingness and the momentum of a friendship, a relationship, a continuum of interactions grinds to an abrupt jarring halt. Doors close. New ones, never before envisaged, open. Old trains get derailed. New trains set off for an as of yet unknown destination.

Funny that a person as nonreligious as I should be dating a person who's an ardent catholic. Though I've always believed that religion should never be an issue in a relationship and that was one of the first few things we clarified. Though I must confess that for a nonreligious person, I enjoy black gospel songs, often having an inexplicable urge to burst into song when listening to them.

For one, I find them incredibly uplifting and joyful. For another, the sheer power of a choir, a band of people singing in harmony is undeniable. Sometimes, just sometimes, I think there's a black gospel choir woman in me just screaming to get out. Ha ha.

I love this song. It's joyful, exuberant and always uplifting. Turn up the volume and let the inner black woman/man sing. ^^ O Happy Saturday!!!

Oh Happy Day by the Choeur Gospel Celebration de Quebec & Sylvie Degroseilliers

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Random Ramblings 8: First...

Last night was a first for a number of things.
The first date with someone whom I was at least remotely attracted to for a long time.
The first time things progressed so far and on an impromptu basis on a first date.
The first time I'd so much booze and so little sleep the entire night cum morning.
The first time I'd seriously reconsider my position since the break up.

As Ab Fab's Patsy would say: Cheers, thanks a lot!