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