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Today's MoodBoard

So i thought it'd be fun to compile images that represented my moods over the past couple of days. So here it is!
Also, all artwork belongs to their rightful creators, reference links below.

http://bylaauraa.deviantart.com/art/Autumn-Secrets-138737261
http://models-inc.deviantart.com/art/Countess-Grotesque-5-99406052
http://yorvig.deviantart.com/art/wolf-53413227
http://artgerm.deviantart.com/art/Samurai-Spirit-6-77998563
http://torenatkinson.deviantart.com/art/Cthulhu-20881839
http://chrisbonney.deviantart.com/art/the-red-couch-50188354
http://americanboy.deviantart.com/art/sex-60-71728127

See the full gallery on posterous

Posted via email from David Massacre

A song for you - Bank & Trust #fb

The Bank And Trust by The Elected   (4595 KB)
Listen on posterous

It funny how things change. The internet has changed the way we do many things. So instead of standing outside my window and serenading me to let down my hair or drop a hanky for you to catch, you sent me an mp3. Don't get me wrong, it was lovely.

So now, I give this to all of you. It's a song to sing at the end of the day. So be glad it's Friday.

Lyrics:
Well, she gets real mean when she's drunk
And she finally fell asleep, and I'm glad
She said, 'The only way you got as far as you did
Is 'cause of me. Your songs suck'
And I'm stuck in this American town
And the streets are full of snow
And the shops are closin' down
And the only friend I had here moved away
Went back to Dallas
Ran out of money

So now the bills have all been paid
And the money's all been saved
You're still as sad as you ever were
Sellin' out
To the man you trust

The next morning, just after dawn
On the side of my bed with just a towel on
She said, 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.'
You never do, let's finish what we were working on

So now the bills have all been paid
And the money's all been saved
We're just as bad as we ever were
Sellin' out to the bank and trust
Yeah, the bank and trust

And I met this girl from Montgomery
A twenty six-year-old with a five-year-old baby
Yeah, I had her when I was young
Yeah, her daddy's long gone
But that's all right, Jack
You see, she saved me

It's just that I feel stuck in this American town
I finally got a good job, it'd just be dumb to move now
So some days I can hardly move
Much less move away

So now the bills have all been paid
And the money's all been saved
We're just as bad as we ever were, ever were
Selling out to the bank and trust
Yeah, the man you trust
Yeah, the man you trust

Posted via email from David Massacre

New Board Shorts, Please!

The sun burned hot in the sky. The water looked cool and refreshing, conveniently nestled in the shade of the building. 'Perfect,' I thought to myself. In all my excitement it slipped my mind to do some stretches, a little warm-up wouldn't hurt, it would prevent the hurt (God knows how little I exercise, if I ever do.)

I dove in, cutting through the water, my own momentum pushing me forward, surfacing a couple of meters ahead. As I prepped myself for some freestyle action, hands purposefully slicing in the water and pulling me forward, I realised something. Something both wonderful and dreadful. Wonderful: I had lost some of the weight I intended to lose. Dreadful: My shorts were half way down my ass. Great.

I stopped, pulled up my shorts and continued on. Stopping at each end of the pool to pull my shorts up. I was not the most poised of swimmers but I was getting the job done. 45 minutes worth of swimming, pulling up shorts and swimming some more, I decided to call it a day. I emerged in all my splendour and glory from the water. You would think that I would have forgotten the looseness of my shorts and they would fall all the way down as I hoisted myself out. A-ha! I have you there, I didn't. It was now that I realised the back part of my shorts are white. Yayyyyy. Pants clinging to my ass, I shamelessly sashay around the pool for a couple of minutes, having a smoke. I'm sorry if you had to witness that.

So, verdict: I need new, fitting, non-white board shorts.

Posted via email from David Massacre

Oh, THAT Guy.

Guy #1:
There's always that one guy. You know, the one that talks like he knows everything and is evidently trying to sound more intelligent than he actually is as you roll your eyes in exasperation.

Well, dude. FAIL.

We don't like the way you try and be all that. It sucks, you suck. You're not gonna lull anyone into bed with that attitude. You just annoy the shit out of people. I wanted to smack you. Who the hell are you?! Fake tattoos (yes, I know they are FAKE), angled mohawk and a put-on accent. Wow, prize catch.

It's time to throw down!

Guy #2:
You've met him. Sparks fly, universes are sown together as you speak.You talk about life, living, loving, friends, whiskey, surprises, the supernatural and even the weather. It goes on, the night comes to a close, you go home. He's there with you, of course. Something sweet from the kitchen followed by something spicy in the bedroom. Scenes more steamy that the one with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic fill what remains of the night. Then the sun, blazing across the sky, steals it all away. "I want to see you again," you beg. "No, we'll leave it at this," he reasons, "if we see each other again, we'll know it was meant to be..."

Neek: So now how? You've met this hypothetical guy in a hypothetical world and he just leaves you like that.
Dave: Then, I guess I'll just leave it at that. If we do ever meet again then it'll be magical.
Neek: What?! Aren't you gonna make the effort to look for him? Find out who he is and meet him again to give fate a nudge?
Dave: Guess not, the magic's lost then... also, it seems kinda stalker-ish.
Neek: You. Are a moron.
Dave: For leaving it up to chance?!
Neek: What if I had his number? Would you give fate a push and ask me for it?
Dave: Yea, duh, of course.
Neek: Well now, I'm NOT GIVING IT TO YOU. We'll leave it up to chance
Dave: *gasp!* You asshole.

So I'm hypothetically pissed at Neek for hypothetically keeping me from my dream guy.

Where are all the hot, smart, non-mental guys anyway?! Can someone let me know, please? Thanks.

Posted via email from davidmassacre's posterous

The Experiments Continue

We keep rolling with the experiments people. Yes I'm already acting like TONS of people are reading this. Now, we test what happens when I email an image to Posterous. OOOOooooOOoOoooo.

This was from the mad party that was UOX Play Future at Bukit Kiara, Kuala Lumpur.

Line-up was the craziest we've seen in the last two years:

• Steve Aoki
• Shitdisco
• Paserock
• Stretch Armstrong
• Lapsap
• Twilight ActionGirl

All we were missing was Boys Noize, Shinichi Osawa and Kissy Sellout. Time for a show in KL, guys.

Maybe I should attach TWO pictures to see how it handles a gallery. meh. too lazy.

Posted via email from davidmassacre's posterous

10... 9... 8...

So this is the test post for Blogger and Tumblr, let's hope this all works out well.

I have tons of space to write whatever the hell I want. What happens when i hook this up with Twitter? Does it automatically do a Tweet-Shrink?

Posted via web from davidmassacre's posterous

Re-introduction to the wild

So it was decided that I needed to be introduced back into the wild. I hadn't stepped into a gay bar in 4years. I was close to forgetting that I was an out, loud and proud queer.

I was shocked to receive the invitation for a free flow re-launch of a theme night at one of the gay bars. I mean I had been out of the scene for so long how could anyone even think of sending me an invite? Well I got it and it was a free flow event but it was at a gay bar. It'd be brimming with gay boys that can't dance and are there only to be seen at the scene. It was an assumption, I know, but it all came from past experiences. I'd hate to go back to even taste such a boring lifestyle. But it was FREE-fuckin'-FLOWWW. In retrospect, the last time I was at a free flow event at a gay bar, I ended up picking up some guy I didn't want to sleep with, making out with TheFairy's straight friends and have some dodgy guy ask me how much I would cost for the night as I took a very shameless piss in an alley.

This would be fun.

Still totally unprepared for the night, I found a couple of people I knew that were turning up and decided to brave it and head on over. Brave as I was, I broke down into a whimpering puppy and begged a fag hag to follow when she unwittingly gave me a ring to join her for a nice, quiet dinner. Fool.

I have to say, the scene's changed alot since I left it behind. Still dominated by oriental beefcakes who, no doubt, could only love another asian muscle mary. Yay. *rolls eyes*

But you can see a new breed of local-flavored homos emerging from the shallows. The ones that are not wearing super-tight shirts to show off their oh-so-lovely muscles over-developed from three-too-many days at the gym. The ones that ones that DON'T care how they look when they shake it. The ones that don't have a burning desire to peel off those ridiculous not-actually-body-fitting-but-I-bought-it-one-size-too-small-so-when-I-flex-my-pecs-I-rip-a-few-seams shirts.

Enter crAshton. Yes hunny, that's what I'm naming you. crAshton. Because you killed that space. You maimed those sashaying little bitches on the dancefloor with me and showed those hip-swayers how to really party with your crazy moves. I didn't see it coming. It was awesome.

Look out for the crAshton, he's coming your way.

I walked in keeping a running score of which was better: a gay bar or my oh-so-beloved TAG. TAG was in the lead 2-1 with cheaper, stronger booze and crazier party animals. You turned it around for the queers, crAshton, they won for tonight.

If I hit another gay bar and crAshton is around, I guess TAG will lose again. But if he isn't guess what, TAG STILL ROCKS MY FUCKIN' SOCKS OFF.

This is for you crAshton:

Sista-hood

You know it's rare that you meet one of those people in life. The kind that you have more in common with than you realise.

Dave meets Aaron @ Cat Got Your Tongue.

A: So like what race are you?
D: Chi-bai. (translated from Hokkien it means pussy. Also, the spawn of one Chinese parent and one Bai [Punjabi] parent)
A: OMG, sista. You are like the first other Chi-bai that I've met.

It was mildly entertaining to see that I had a gay Chi-bai sista out there.

Also, totally overdid it CGYT frontlined by other sistas: Sarah & JoyceTheFairy as SalahWrong.

Hit the dancefloor with even more sistas:

AshleyTheMonkey:


AmandaPanda:


I have no idea where the rest of the photos are and that might be a good thing. Don't want people getting their hands on the wrong photos.

Yes, I'm gay but...

I don't like going to the gym.
I don't know your other gay friend.
I like to play video games.
I like to get drunk and go dancing.
I don't want to sleep with you, you or you.
I do want to sleep with that one, that one and that other one.
I don't have handicaps because I am gay.
I don't cook or clean.
I hold my cigarette like a hooker on the corner.
I get annoyed by things that are 'too gay'.
I can only enjoy THAT much techno.
I don't think I'm a girl.
I really enjoy McDonald's.
I cut my own hair sometimes and mess it up because it just. feels. better. that. way.
I can't throw / catch.
I like fantasy novels.
I don't enjoy rom-coms that much.
I cross my legs knee-over-knee.
I'm promiscuous until I'm not.
I don't care how fat I am till I actually start feeling fat.
I still don't know every other gay man you know.
Some of the best times I've had are alone in a cafe with a good book, coffee, cigarettes and a good view of the world going by.
I scream like a girl when something non-life-threatening startles me.
If something puts me in mortal danger I will chop with manly battlecry.
I only have six gay friends. Three of them I'm not even close to.

Four-leafed clovers wilt.

I'm not a firm believer in luck. Never have been, but sometimes on days when things go too well, I find myself asking: "Shit, am I using all my good luck up in one go? Am I screwed upside down for the next six days?! Fuck fuck fuck."

A friend once told me in a Hindu belief. It concerned two bad-ass 'angels', Mangal and Shani, who respectively governed Tuesdays and Saturdays. Mangal was the 'angel' of bad luck and Shani, of death. Mangal is also related to the belief that each person will go through two 7-year cycles of bad luck. They needn't flow for a straight seven years but all the bad luck you receive in the course of your life would equal to 14 years. Similiarly, you'd also be blessed with one 7-year cycle of good luck [citations needed]. Sucks if you only live till fourteen though.

Regardless if my friend was close to the real story or shovelling me a steaming pile of horse shit, it was interesting and it stuck in my head. Your life, preloaded with good luck and bad, dispensed by mythical creatures whenever they see fit.

So now it begs the question: Can you use up too much good luck when you're on a roll?

What if you do? What if your one easy run results in an eternity of crap? Don't question it. Never question a good thing. You definitely don't know how much good or bad luck you've used. So I am, where I'm at: Not giving a damn and just trying to ride it out and ride as hard as I can. No New Year's resolutions because you have only one beginning and one ending. Make it a BIG ending, give it a twist, do whatever the fuck you want, go out with a bang, hell go out banging!

So now I quote to you Death Cab's 'New Year':

so this is the new year.
and I don't feel any different
the clanking of crystal
explosions off in the distance

so this is the new year
and I have no resolutions
for self assigned penance
for problems with easy solutions

so everybody put your best suit or dress on
let's make believe that we are wealthy for just this once
lighting firecrackers off on the front lawn
as thirty dialogues bleed into one

I wish the world was flat like the old days
then I could travel just by folding a map
no more airplanes, or speedtrains, or freeways
there'd be no distance that can hold us back

there'd be no distance that could hold us back

so this is the new year

You're welcome for my weird sex.

Most of the lessons that we were taught in school will and probably have been thrown out the window. You'll probably never need to take these lessons to your everyday life. Personally, I've never been in a situation where I knew I was 50metres from a building, seeing my friend on the roof and going, 'hmmm, I know the building is 250metres tall, I'm so glad I know the formula to calculate exactly how far my friend is from me.' Sin-over-hypo-the-wha? I always go to the people who know. They've been in some sorta spot or other that has imparted them with the knowledge or information I need and I fully intend on taking it from them.

I am obviously not the first person to think up this insidious tactic. Countless have come before me and countless more will come after. One should always be on a quest for information and knowledge, I respect this greatly, I commend you for it.

'How do you sleep with guys, ah?'

A fair question. It doesn't ruffle any feathers or break any bones, if asked out of pure curiosity. It was, after all, in the pursuit of knowledge. When a complete and total virgin female begins this topic with me over lunch though, the best answer I could muster up was: '...uhhh....'

'Just tell me, la...'

This was it, I'd have to explain the mechanics of gay sex to a naive girl, whom I regarded much like a sister. I decided to strip it down and give her the bare basic of it: 'oh, just put it back there.' I hope I managed a cool, straight answer that got to the core of it and didn't leave room for any more questioning. I was wrong. So wrong. 'Put what, back where?' she asked. Great. I'd have to mention actual anatomy, it'd be so much easier to just hand her some gay porn and just let her find out on her own but I commend her pursuit of knowledge, as lascivious as it may be. I fleshed out the details and by the end of it, I was put in an even more awkward position of being the audience of squeals and further investigation of how it felt, ever had it like that, ever give it like this, which was better?

I think if my biological sister ever asks me, my body would suffocate itself.

I'm so lost by you.

It's too bad it had to come to this. I thought... different. That's all. I just thought different.

Why did you do what you did? Come now, let's not beat about the bush. It's too late for us, I guess. I thought you'd be different, that you would change my world, change the world.

Keep the mind sharp, so now I must hunt. You are the predator no more. It's time for you to curiously look over your shoulder and, in a sudden wave of surprise, mutter to yourself: "Oh,shit."

Four to the floor. I'm right behind you.

I got your back, you got mine. No doubt, my lovelies. To the floor, let us dance.

We'll dance with our friends.


We'll dance with one another.



















We'll dance with the boys.


We'll dance till tomorrow never comes.

The world is standing still.

This is it. The world is right. No? You don't feel it?

Sit down, close your eyes, deep breath? Still no? You need to look for it, it won't come to you. A very common phrase that you hear is 'life is only as complicated as you make it.' In most cases this is a lie. It's complicated. It's tough. Take the time. If only for a day and you'll see it, the world is standing still. You'll see all the details, the dust in the air, the light throwing its subtle glow from the corner, the sleeping dogs, the women in your bed, the men in your life. You'll see it all. The world is standing still and it's waiting for your move.

Make it a good move. Fly to Spain. Paint your nails. Run to your lover. Quit your job. Read your magazines. Talk the pillowtalk. The world will react to you.

This is your inspiration. Go. The world is waiting for you.

Reverse Kryptonite

So how do you know when too much is too much? I never do. It's a sick, sick cycle. When I come along and I see the sights and hear the sounds, I can never get enough. Then it's too late. *Bleargh*

Just like when I'm at a buffet; I'll scout out whatever looks most interesting, try it and gun for that the whole night through. I won't bother sampling other dishes that might taste even more scrumptious.

Well now, I'm all aboard for adventure. I feel young again. I have a blanket tied around my neck, jumping around making 'whoosh!' noises like I'm about to save some city from imminent peril. 'What's this? A maiden tied to the tracks? No matter, Massacre is here.' You should join me. Pick a blanket, your own little colored cape, they come in an assortment of shades and tints. We'll run around and rescue the cookies from their prisons and guarantee TV shows get their ratings.

This is the secret, I tell you. The little colored blankets, without them, we're powerless!

So keep it on and jump around (don't forget to say 'whoosh!') and you'll always be a superhero.


Calvin as S.T.U.P.E.N.D.O.U.S Man - Created by Bill Watterson

I'm coming home. A different home.

Times have changed. I need to change. Adapt. Evolve. This is happenning, right now, there's no stopping it. So, like it is hurtling toward me, I shall throw myself into it. I just hope I don't come out too broken and burnt to carry on.

I think I'll be fine, though. I have you, don't I? All of you or at least some of you. So let's do this together. Let's stop the meteors and undo the plans of the universe for us. We've been beaten before yet here we stand proud and united. There is nothing the galaxy or the gods can throw at us that we haven't weathered before. Matters of the heart, the home, the past, the present, the future.

You know this; individually we are strong, together we are unstoppable. We are capable of so many great things that the future fears us.

I know what you're going to say to me. "It's too soon." No. It's not. It's never too soon for this because we'll only realise all we've missed when it's too late.

Be it of money, sex, love, drugs, disco, alcohol, friends and peers. Of the flowers, the candy, the photographs, the good times, the bad, the memories, the bands and the songs. Or even of words, eyes, mouths, fingers, laughs or tears. We can do this.

So come with me. Get in the yellow car.