Capital Escapade

Just got back a few days ago from my trip to the Aussie Capital, and for all of you out there, its actually not Sydney or Melbourne… its Cranberry… I mean Canberra. Weird right? I always thought it was Sydney as well.

Anyway, went down to meet up with some friends and stayed with them. They are a typical rice queen/sticky rice couple. One is an Asian guy my age, and the other is this older Caucasian guy that is much older… I don’t know his actual age as I think its rude to ask, but I’m guessing around fifty? So yea it’s a daddy-boy relationship.

I spent a few days in the capitol, and then we drove down to Sydney for the weekend. We spent some time in the gay clubs, namely the Stonewall, Colombian and the Shift. Haha, twas fun.

The not fun part is travelling with my friends, the dynamics of their relationship seems very weird, coz unlike the usual rich daddy situation, this seems to be juxtaposed and is a rich boy situation… And the old guy is certainly someone that is very hard to travel with, as he easily loses his temper and throws a tantrum every now and then. He doesn’t lose his temper on me as I suppose I’m a guest, but he does so to just about everyone and everything else, inclusive of his boyfriend. His random temper bursts were very hard to travel with, I doubt I’ll ever go on another trip with them.

Most people I know grow old gracefully and become loving people, this dude certainly didn’t grow old gracefully… in fact I think in his mind he probably thinks he is still very young…



You know how the saying goes, “Men are like wine, the older they get, the better”, well fuck that, whoever coined that phrase either isn’t much of a wine drinker, or is someone that only drinks the highest qualities of wines. Because not all wine gets better when kept longer, only the best of the best are meant to be cellared for more than 10 years, all the other regular wines will probably turn in to a sour-bitter tasting vinegar solution when kept pass its use-by date.

I’m not bashing older people in this post, as I often enjoy the intellectual company of older men, maybe cause most of them were either a good Bordeaux, Burgundy or at the very least a good Aussie Barossa. This older guy I travelled with, OMG… tough person to travel with as I guess he didn’t age properly.

Anyway… he was okay-ish to me, didn’t throw his tempers and tantrums at me (although he did to everything else). Maybe coz he was hoping I’d get into bed with him and his boyfriend, AHAHAHA he wished, not in a million years. Anyway, the sightseeing and stuff were amazing as I saw some pretty stuff in both the capital and Sydney, but the company was tough…

The Aussie Capital from a birds-eye view

Two Sydney landmarks, the Opera house and the tourist ferry

These are actual pics taken of me, its just that I'm cropped out of them for personal reasons. That was my weekend, and now its back to slaving at uni.

Signing out.

Taxi Scam

On my way to the airport I got scammed by the taxi driver. He insisted that the toll charges from where I live into the airport was a whopping 12 dollars and made me pay for it. BIG mistake messing with me. Right after checking into my flight, I called the customer service to lodge my report.

The supervisor concurred with me that the cabbie most probably overcharged me and helped me lodged a preliminary report.The one flaw in hind sight is that I didn’t ask for a receipt, something I should have done. When I get back to Melbourne from my trip, I will have to call the taxi company and follow up with my complaint.

I am not reporting because if the extra 6 dollars he is charging me, but more so because he tried to scam me. I can imagine the numerous tourists he must have scammed because they were leaving the country and couldn’t all the taxi company to lodge a complain.

My only fear about the whole situation is that the cabbie, which was of a certain race I will not disclose in an attempt to appear not-racist, knows where I live as I ordered the cab from a phone. So if I lodge a follow-up report and he gets reprimanded for scamming me, he would know exactly where to find me, and may even attempt to get even with me by vandalising the place I live in.

But I guess it’s a matter of principal, so I’m going ahead and lodging my follow-up report when I get back to Melbourne. Its not fair that I take it up my ass and not complain about anything just because of fear.

Signing out.

Unknown Baggage

The modern world is a very cruel place. Sometimes it is the hostile environment that makes its inhabitants evil, and isn’t the evil inhabitants that make the environment hostile. I am currently on a flight to the capitol of Australia for a short holiday visiting friends. I brought my laptop along and all the PDF journals that I need to read, so it wouldn’t be as if I won’t get any work done on the trip. Its just that with all the stress related lab work and design work in Melbourne, this would be a great getaway for me.

I suggest that the hostile environment makes its inhabitants evil because I encountered a scenario that perfectly fits the bill when at the airport moments ago. While queuing up to board the plane, there was this old lady that started lining up two persons behind me in the queue. She was casually dressed and held a very heavy looking hand carry that didn’t have wheels. I personally think bags with wheels are the best invention for ladies that can’t carry the heavy load of their luggage.

This old lady however wasn’t using one of those bags, she was just carrying a normal hand carry. And deep inside me a full-fledged debate immediately broke out. On the one hand I wanted very badly to help her carry her luggage up the flight, because it looked too heavy for her frail figure; but on the other hand, I kept hearing the voices in my head reminding me not to ever carry luggage for strangers in airports, especially the baggage of frail looking elderly folks.



The reason for these is the countless emails and warnings I get from friends and family that says if you mindlessly carry baggage for random folks in the airport, you may end up being a drug mule without even knowing it. And when you do find out you’re carrying drugs for the stranger, it would be too late because its probably the customs that’s telling you about the drugs.

So I ended up not helping the old lady with her heavy bags, and no one else offered to help her as well, probably because of the very same reason I have. I felt very bad not helping the lady as it just wasn’t right. I mean you really don’t have to attend moral classes (yes! I’m taking a swipe at the Malaysian education system) to know you should help frail looking, helpless, people when they look like they need the help. But what happens when there are people out there exploiting this righteous feeling and go around randomly recruiting unknowing drug mules?

Its really a sad sad situation, its because of all the warnings and emails I get about not helping strangers carry stuff in airport for fear of being a drub mule that I didn’t help the old lady. Was I really being a mean person? Or is it that the current environment forces me to be mean in order to safeguard my own wellbeing? Sigh… This post was posted the moment I could get to a hotspot in Canberra...

Signing out.

Homely Rubber

Got some free rubber here the other day, in an effort to promote safe sex, gay events always gives out free condoms. I think Malaysia is catching on as well, as I recall receiving free condoms in one of the Marketplace Christmas events.

Anyway, I took a strip of red packet condoms, maybe cause the Chinese blood in me made me instinctively pick up the red ones for good luck and prosperity, Haha. Anyway, big mistake cause later on I found out that they were ‘tighter fit’ sizes. Not boasting or anything, but I look good in a slim fit shirt, not a slim fit rubber, LoL, hahaha.


What really caught my eye on the packet, apart from the ‘tighter fit’ description, was the fact that it was made in Malaysia! Woohoo, that’s one right back at the government when you think about it. The gov bans gay sex, but here we are supplying the gay population of Melbourne free rubber, “made in Malaysia”, so that they can go at it all night long. Ahaha, the irony.

I tried to take a pic of the word Made in Malaysia, but my sucky camera made it difficult.

Signing out.

Twenty-Seven Hours Straight

I’ve been so very busy with my studies lately, and that’s one of the reasons why I haven’t been blogging as much as I should. Being in the last year of uni naturally means that my work load is unbelievably huge, over the last weekend I only accumulated five hours of sleep from Friday morning to Monday morning. That’s more a less a hundred minutes sleep a day… All these loss sleep was because of a major assignment I had to hand in on Monday. Actually the five hours sleep was sort of a three hour sleep Friday night, and a two hour nap on Saturday night… I went for twenty-seven hours in a row without sleeping on Sunday night… LoL crazy yea? Yup, twenty-seven hours straight doesn’t mean I was straight for that period of time, it just meant I was awake for that long… but still gay of course :p

But it’s amazing how the human mind works, knowing that I had to hand in the report by 11am Monday morning, my brain just somehow sent a signal to my body telling it not to sleep. Had some coffee every now and then to keep me awake, but no more than my usual daily caffeine intake. I’m quite the coffee fanatic, I guess Evann knows this, as he visited me in Melby once and I brought him to one of my favourite coffee shops.

out of sync biological clock

Strangely I didn’t feel the need to sleep at all, and was quite energised and hyped up about completing the assignment. I don’t think even clubbing and sex could have kept me awake all night until 12pm the next day. But I did it, so I’m quite proud of myself for sticking all the way to the end and getting the job done. I guess it was some sort of survival instincts that caused me to just stay awake and hang in there till the end. The fucking assignment is worth about 35 percent of my final grade. God knows did I sleep after that long sleepless drought…



In the end my group churned out a hundred-and-sixty page report, and had to bind it at the paper shop before handing it in, this was to prevent random sheets of paper from falling out during the marking process. It’s one of the biggest report I’ve written in my life, the second biggest one being only ninety over pages.

Now I can probably take about a week off hardcore uni work as I collect data for my final year research work. This research is another subject independent of the huge group assignment I just handed in. I know the saying goes that there is no rest for the wicked, but hey I’m no witch and I sure do need a break, so I’m taking this week easy before going back into hardcore mode.

Signing out.

Partying With The Freaks

Last Friday I attended yet another queer event by the uni, this time it was a fundraiser party to help raise funds for the queer department in uni. I was first notified of the event through facebook, as one of the committee members sent me the invite through it. It was advertised on that event page as a fund raising event for the queer department, with a description of an entry charge and cheap booze. Twas called the 'FREAKPARTY' !

OMG my Facebook settings!

When I first received that event invite, I started being paranoid that my friends would be able to trace that event to a homosexual nature and determine my sexuality. The paranoia in me not only prevented me from RSPV-ing the invite, but also triggered me to re-evaluate my facebook privacy settings, just to ensure my friends can’t see my group and event page. Only after meticulously going through the difficult to navigate facebook privacy settings page, and being sufficiently confident that my sexuality is not in any way advertised on facebook, did I consciously consider going to the event.

One of the prevailing deterrents putting me off from going to this party is that I barely know anybody there. Sure I’ve been to a few uni queer events, but they were mainly movie screenings or talk-presentation, where you just sit through the event without much interaction. At best I know less than five of the people in the queer department well enough to call them friends, the rest are more of an acquaintance.

I’m sure you know the feeling of being at a party whereby you don’t know much people and you’re trying to fit in and make friends. More often than not the situation is unfavourable to the outsider at an event, because everyone would be in their own cliques and groups, and here you are… barely knowing anybody trying to fit in.

Nonetheless the cheap door price and “cheap booze” advertised on the party page sorta helped make up my mind to go. LoL. That, and the fact that I may meet some cute emo artsy guy motivated me to pluck up some courage and attend the event as the “lone guy” that doesn’t know anyone.

I rocked up to the event by myself that night, I do admit that I tried to recruit some friends to go along with me, but either they weren’t interested cause it was a uni/Caucasian event or they were busy. I went by public transport, luckily they were still running as it was a Friday night (late timetables), and when I reached the “venue” I was shocked.



Despite being advertised as a place with a proper name and door entry on the event page online, it was actually a house. Woohoo! A house party! I haven’t been to one of these since second year uni. I went to high school here and all the way up to second year uni I was invited to some of my high school friends’ house parties, but somehow after a while everyone just split ways and my invites to these things died down.

So anyway, it turned out that one of the queer committee members offered his house for the location of the party and that was where the party was. And when they advertised cheap booze, they weren’t kidding, the beers and wines there were going only for three dollars, and the beer was organic as well :P

Frankly speaking I wasn’t sure how they were raising funds when they were practically selling the drinks at cost… but the entry fees probably did raise some money. Maybe one day I’ll have a chat with these artsy committee members and give them some better pricing strategies to raise funds. LoL, think evil “corporate pricing” :P

Overall I had a great time at the party, met a lot of new people, although with all the booze and music I must admit I barely remember most of them. There was this one cute guy, with a floral shirt and a fancy contrasting tie. He studied the flute… haha the implications that went through my mind when he introduced himself… “oh, so you play the flute eh…?” Haha… Anyway, I regret not getting his number, cause it was earlier in the night when we talked and I did sense some reciprocal interest, but he sorta disappeared later into the night… Probably snapped up by some other flute enthusiast.



Party ended in the wee hours of the morning when the coppas finally showed up, probably coz some of the neighbours felt they were entitled to at least some sleep on a Friday night. I did have a great time that night as I had a long week before and finally had the chance to let my hair down, well the cheap booze really helped as well :) I will probably attend these parties again in the future, as I learned a lot of things from it. One thing’s for sure I learned a lot about lesbians… Haha, more coming on that in future posts.

Signing out.