*kinky post ahead.

Due to the sensitive/doofus/bimbotic/silly nature of our bets, I can’t disclose the reason why I had lost 2 bucks to Finicky Feline and VampTreSS consecutively.

All I can say is Nah-b…. I meant, nah.. it’s okay.

But let’s just say I am really down of my luck to be losing a bet to Finicky Feline on Friday, and then to VampTreSS, yesterday.

It’s not about the 2 bucks, ya know? It’s about losing a bet, that aches.

Let’s just say I lost the bet to Finicky Feline because of my own doings, yet I lost the bet to VampTreSS cos of Finicky Feline’s doings.

*curse curse swear swear*

To think I still thought of recouping my loss to FF through Vamp.

Then again, I realise, perhaps losing the 2 bucks is for good causes.

Like, when it comes to men.

Muahahahaha.

Good karma, I say.

And good karma only happens to nice people like *cough* me.

Classic example of a bad karma?

(Under 21s please kindly not read. As if you will. Oh, if mishap shall happen to me, please do not hesitate to confront parties involved. Muahahaha.)

Say, Friend A and Friend B. Both are testerone-filled males. Or rather, sexually-experienced males in their 20s.

Okay, change that. Make it VERY experienced.

Friend B of mine had been taking the mickey out of Friend A recently after hearing how Friend A didn’t last more than a minute in the bedroom department.

Muahaha.

Story was: Things got hot and heavy for Friend A and girl. After some heavy petting, the girl went down on him and it was a while before he almost, well, er, came.

Girl stopped, teasing him. Petting continued.

Then she went down on him for the 2nd time, bringing him to the edge of the cliff, and yet, stopped again.

He could stand it no more and pin the girl down for some *cough* serious action which last.. er, around a minute?

*Chuckles* *Sniggers* *chokes on laughter*

Okay.

That was beside the point.

Friend B couldn’t stop using it as a jibing point, went on and on and on and on about how Friend A couldn’t exceed a minute, and spiced his jokes with high-pitched, sarcastic remarks like, ‘Oh, one thing for sure, I am definitely a more-than-a-minute-man!’ blarblarblarblarblar… regardless if the topic is on sex, or not.

Until, few days back.

Friend B and girl were getting into business, when the girl had briefly touched him *ahem* there, and he felt the urge to, well, erm, ya know.

He stopped her, cos he didn’t want to *cough* cum in his pants.

Things soon got a tad hot and heavy, and before long, the girl had him in her mouth.

Here the story goes. He could hardly held back, and came less than a minute into it, much to his(and perhaps, muahaha, her, too) utter horror.

*Sniggers*

No.

*EVIL LOUD LAUGHS*

Muahahahahahahaha.

A good ego-bashing, he says.

SEE! Laugh at people! Go on!

Life is indeed fair, eh?

Karma, baby, karma.

Welcome to the under-1 minute club.

Gee, what’s with guys and their under-1 minute records these days?

Poor ladies out there.

***

Oh. So the main point here is, angelic beings like Ting have good karma.

It was a lazy Saturday and I was pretty reluctant to leave home to spend the night out due to the extreme fatigue and the muscle aches all over.

Yet, a promise is a promise, and I had to drag my fat arse out of the house to go town, instead of blogging my day away.

Speaking of which. I will be continuing my previous post AFTER this post.

Perhaps, I was too eager to blog about Friend B’s karma after his recent revelations.

Muahahahaha.

I bet this won’t go down his throat too well, like how it hadn’t been for the lady.

Oops.

Anyway.

Met up with Sandra at Jurong East MRT in the evening where we had some quick bites from the night market.

It was then did I realise I had forgotten my passport, and I had to rush home to get it since I would be making a quick trip back to JB last night.

Chanced upon Jeremy while I was sitting down, enjoying my Ramly burger.

Apparently he was in the area doing fact-finding.

After a brief chat, the very nice gentleman he is, offered to give us a lift to my place, and then send us to town.

Such gentleman! Where to find?!

So you see, good karma!

I am nice, thus I got free lift.

He is nice, thus, got 2 babes accompanying him.

Sandra had a peek of my room, and then as she tried to on my PC, I suspected *cough* she’s some sort of a jinx cos my computer mysteriously shut down by itself after proclaiming it was tainted with some sort of virus.

We left home in a jiffy and rushed down to Peninsula Plaza, where we were supposed to scout for.. erm, leather.

On our way to town, it was in the car where we saw the spectacular fireworks, yet again.

Fireworks and Peninsula Plaze. Ouch.

Then again, this time no PMS, I didn’t feel too bad.

From within the car, the sight we held our breaths and admired.

See! Good karma, thus, we had the visual treat.

As we reached Peninsula Plaza, we walked into this sex-shop and it was hardly possible for us to find anything within our budgets and yet practical to wear.

It was there, we met a German who works as a researcher in NTU. I wonder what was he researching in there. Hurhurhur.

We ventured into yet another sex shop. I cringed at the thought of that. Alas, no interesting finds either.

Yeah, you may think I am a slut, but still, I am a shy slut, alright?

(To bunny friends out there: I thought we were supposed to go bunny shopping?!)

So. We then walked down to this bus stop and this strange guy was following us.

We managed to ignore him and shake him off, before we halt for a rest at the bus stop.

It was then, coincidentally, the German appeared.

He then stopped by for a chat, and graced us with informative details of kinky-themed parties in Europe and such.

In a non-sleazy way, I might add.

He even spoke of a leather-corset he wore for some sort of event….

Erm, interesting.

Sandra and I then decided to give up the hunt for the gears, and headed straight to the party at En Lounge instead, by foot.

We strolled by Clarke Quay.

And we were almost moved to tears when a touching scene captured our hearts.

It may seem silly to some of you, but duh, I have no idea why we were so touched.

Must be the work of sexual good boyfriend-deprivation.

As we strutted by the reverse-bungee, a couple were just preparing to be launched into the air.

The girl on the left was obviously in a bundle of nerves, with her forehead creased with discomfort. Eyes closed.

The boy, was seated on the right, with a vacant seat in between them.

We watched the big screen television and the screams from the girl echoed.

I stared intensely. I watched.

I cooed.

I felt this great warmth when I spitted out these words, ‘Girl, you know what, since the start of the ride till now, with the velocity and great force, never once did he let go of her hand….‘

So swwwwwwwwweeeeeeeeeetttttt.

Awwwwww…

And he held on, and grabbed onto her, until the very last second of the ride is over.

I also want a guy who would not let go of my hand no matter what. *pouts with jealousy*

It’s funny how we wrote and scripted our own fairytales out of a scene from the er, television screen.

***

Clad in long-sleeved top and skirt, black top and jeans, we pretty much didn’t fit into the theme when we finally arrived at En Lounge.

Wei was nice to offer some of the costumes available and solved our headaches. If only we knew earlier, we wouldn’t have went through all the hassles to shop for hours for something.

We scurried to the washroom together, and I bet all guys would kill to be in my position.

To change in the same room as Sandra, seeing her in nothing but her bra.

Hurhurhur.

She had wanted to try this certain dress, and I had something in mind too.

Alas, both dresses didn’t work well on us, and we ended up exchanging the dresses instead.

Curb the nosebleed, guys.

This was the end product, last night.

*Cough*

You might not know what it is, but erm, yeah, it’s actually erm… a nurse outfit. Complete with Ting’s (in Sandra’s words) slutty look.

Damn kinky, I know.

Sandra donned a stewardess, deep-V dress.

Mile High Captain, is she.

See! Good karma, money saved!

As we ventured out of the washroom and back to the lounge to put our clothes and stuffs in a corner, we didn’t expect the responses.

It wasn’t long before when whips were stuffed into our hands, and people coming up to us to tell us how kinky our outfits were.

And, the cameras from all over were flashing, blinding us.

It was then when people started requesting taking pictures with us.

Or, requests for us to whip them(jokingly, of course) or something.

Erm, yeah. I really am not into such fetish, you know.

That’s us with Wei, in his, er, *wipes sweat* general uniform.

The party queen of the night, Janice(no, not my Sassyjan), and me.

She’s darn gorgeous and charismatic.

Chee Siong, TNP Photojournalist, and us.

Crop me out of the picture and everything might seem nicer.

Muahaha.

Some random stranger with generous chest taking pictures with us.

Don’t tell me how darn short our dresses were. We know.

I took a quick trip back to JB to endorse my passport and left En Lounge at 11.30pm, in a skirt that covered my knees, and long sleeves that made me every inch of an executive.

Well, my dad picked me up, you see.

Was actually pretty tired, but Sandra had sent distress calls that she was the only one there for the post party, and had insisted me to join her.

After constant pleas, and blarblarblarblar… I took a cab to rush to Clifford Pier from my place in Jurong to join her for the post party on a yacht.

And the moment I reached the pier, I saw the boat inching away from my sight.

Apparently, the boat had took off, without me, 5 minutes short of 1 am.

And, Sandra had made a plea strong enough for the boat to stop.

I did think it was pretty hilarious.

But, fortunately, it did stop, and the couple meters ahead of me was also pretty late.

They were actually the German NTU researcher and his Singaporean girlfriend.

Thus, I made it onto the boat just in time, with a whole bunch of people looking on, AND guess what?

I tripped.

Well, at least I didn’t fall into the water, which I might have if not for the 2 guys standing at the door holding on to me.

Somebody stab me please.

I changed into my casual tube and skirt, and enjoyed the solitude on the sun deck, with the mesmerising night view and cooling breeze.

All I lacked was a Jack ala Titanic to cuddle me from behind.

The time on the boat wasn’t that fantastic, but we did make the best out of it but looking at it as a boat ride out to the sea.

And no, no romance blossomed, though a certain chef and a particular Italian did make conversations with me which I displayed immense disinterest in.

It was then we took a rest at the lounge on the 2nd level, where we noticed a guy who is in our words ’so darn freaking(sandra: f**king) cute’.

The only one passable for the night.

Well, there was yet another pretty cute Caucasian, who was hitting on Sandra throughout the night.

Alas, he’s only 18, and Sandra didn’t want to be a paedophile.

And thus, out of sheer cheekiness, we I asked the ‘cute’ guy for his age.

Mid-twenties, he replied.

Good. We won’t be paedophiles that way, you see.

I was growing increasing comfortable just by myself and looking into the darkness of the night when I did my usual spying, observing, and surrounding check.

Sandra was away in the ladies, when the German stopped by for a brief chat, and the cute guy strolled by.

Our eyes met, and I gave him a ‘I’m bored’ look and he responded with a sunshine smile, throwing in a cheeky(read: NOT sexy NOR suggestive) wink as well.

Sandra egged me on to get his number and I gave the usual ‘Ting doesn’t make first moves principle’ excuse.

Actually, seriously, I was just feasting my eyes, but not at all that interested, you see.

It was just great eye candy throughout the mundane night.

I was just hoping for the boat to dock at 4am, so I could come home to .. erm, blog.

Lifeless being, I am.

Anyway.

There came a point when I joined Sandra up on the deck when I saw the tall cutie with broad shoulders again, I cheekily turned back and flashed a grin and he tilted his head to the side to return a megawatt smile.

I giggled.

As Sandra and I were leaving the deck, this guy, Marcus, jokingly asked her where’s the nurse.

Obviously I was right behind her, yet no one would recognise me without the outrageous outfit.

I am glad to do without the unwanted attention, I joked.

And the *gasp* cutie was right beside him.

I made a brief chat with Marcus, while Sandra scooted off without me, and I told Marcus how Janice had mentioned about him earlier on at En Lounge.

I introduced myself as Ting as he expressed how much he adored the nurse outfit.

Muahaha.

Then, the guy beside him spoke.

‘It’s Benson beside Marcus.‘

I laughed and said hi.

Nice one.

I offered a handshake to Marcus, and then shook Benson’s too when I was about to walk away.

As Benson took my hand, he spoke, ‘Before I let you get away, do you mind if I get your contact number?‘

*cough*

I paused for a split second, gave a puzzled look, stole a glance at Marcus with a tad of embarrassment and spilled, ‘Can I give you my MSN email instead?‘

Then again, that is a tad too cheesy for my liking though it was the intended reply.

So, I actually replied with a crisp, ‘Erm, oh, okay.‘

I was holding on to my phone, and thus, he gave me his number and asked me to give him a miss call.

First time a guy asked for my number in… …. …. … … … … … eons(lost count of the time and years, you know)!

Erm, it was quite embarrassing, actually.

I then went off the deck after saying goodbyes.

Sandra threw me dagger stares thereafter, and claimed credits for pulling me on board.

Finally, the boat docked and we alighted for home.

Phew.

Couldn’t wait man.

I scurried to the exit, and was extremely cautious not to trip and fall, again.

Oops, guess what?

Mr Benson was standing right there and I felt a nudge from Sandra.

Anyway, since I am always THAT clumsy, I wondered if I had the words ‘CLUMSY’ etched on my forehead or something.

Sandra was holding on to me, and Marcus offered a helping hand to guide me by the arm as I jumped from the boat to land.

I was slightly confused by how everyone took me for a drunk and before I knew it, someone on my right took my right hand and helped me, yet with another hand patting the back of my hand.

I felt like a clumsy queen(as in, the real royal highness kind of queen, not queen of clumsiness, darling) with everyone fearful of her tripping over and hit her face to the ground.

Something only someone like me capable of doing.

So, it was Benson holding my right hand with both hands, muttering something along the line of, ‘Good night, have a good rest, blarblar, it was nice meeting you, blarblar, I’ll give you a call.. blarblar..‘

Aww… how sweet right?

See! Good karma. Got cute guy make my day.

I hope no one else heard that cos it was blardy embarrassing.

Sandra almost murdered me for that.

Don’t ask me why am I constantly feeling embarrassed.

I am a shy slut, remember?

See, good karma.

Thus, when I saw someone holding someone’s hand on the reverse bungee and silently wished for it, I ended the night with someone holding my hand for that brief moment.

Ask and I shall be given. *Chuckles*

And, when I got home, the bug in my PC mysteriously spontaneously combusted itself, and left my computer harmless.

Yay! And, I still have a few good-karma stories to illustrate in my supposed previous post(bet to FF), which I shall cover, erm, tomorrow?

Moral of the story?

Be nice, like me.

And stop laughing at guys who came in a 1 minute during intercourse.

*Stifled laughters*

Mark the date on your calendar.

29th July is a day to remember, for all sorts of reasons.

I have yet to sleep(yeap, it was a sleepless Thursday for me), so I shall catch some rest before smothering you guys with my pleasant surprises.

Meanwhile, I shall beam myself silly in my dreams with all the satisfaction like a cat gotten its cream.

Meowww…

Will edit this post tomorrow once I wake up, alright?

Did I mention how much I adore my parents(sometimes)?

For all that happened, I am with positive spirits. So, no dirt on the bloggers, yet.

Except mine, how about that?

I wish I have something interesting to update, but I don’t.

Wait, I do.

About irritating bloggers I met through blogging.

But, my tongue doesn’t feel acidic enough to be utilised today.

Hence, I shall request for a raincheck.

I am just heaving a huge sigh of relief to be back to where the cosiness provides such security for me.

Ahh.. the comfort of my bed, under the duvet, with CSI: New York in the background.

But I deserve a pat on my back for surviving 2 entire days without internet connection, and not feeling any withdrawal symptoms.

What can I say? Reading always take your minds off the nitty-gritties in life.

I spent my entire Wednesday reading, and watching the dummy-box.

How lifeless.

I am in fact, having bloggers’ block, right now.

I mean, I do have some things to blog, but am too lazy.

That doesn’t stop the fact that I have gotten thus far in my entry despite not having fodders for a proper entry.

And I know once I get the hang of it, this entry will slowly expand itself with not much substance in it.

Muahahaha.

Yeap.

So what am I trying to say?

Erm.

Nothing.

I did nothing after blogging my last entry.

I left the internet cafe, and went home to chalk a massive phone bill.

I think it’s gonna be massive.

I mean, it gotta be.

I had no form of entertainment, and thus, lengthy phone conversations were my only saviors.

It was a couple of hours with VampTreSS.

And can someone work out for me how much it is gonna cost me to be on the phone to Singapore for almost 7 hours?

Anyway, this should be better than *cough* those days when I exchanged multiple phone calls from morning to night with.. erm.. Mr KG.

Monday to Sunday.

Just that the locations were reversed.

I, in Singapore, and him, in Malaysia.

Ah. Not important.

So I am gonna avoid my dad at all costs when he returns from Sydney.

Yeah, they went Sydney!

I would have followed them if I knew they were heading Sydney!

I would just break away from them and explore the place myself, though.

They would be back, say tomorrow late night, or early Friday.

I am hoping they would get lotsa goodies for me this time round.

They never buy pressies for me when they travel, but I hope I did drive my point across when I joked all I want is a Gucci bag.

Yeah, joke, you see.

Then again, I should joke more often, seeing how my joke got me a fabulous birthday present this year.

Seriously, a bottle of perfume would suffice.

I am a sucker for those curvaceous bottle with sexy scents.

My latest favourite?

Chanel Coco Mademoiselle.

And my usual scent Elizabeth Arden Provocative Woman’s content is emptying fast.

I am smelly, thus, the heavy dependency on perfume.

Not to mention how my taste on perfume varies as the hormones stage riots throughout the month.

Great. I am getting the flow of blogging without someone scratching his balls right beside me.

I mean, less distraction disgust, thus, more flow.

***

I found myself smothered in fear whenever I am back in JB.

Immense fear.

Just a couple of months ago, when I was back in JB, I left the apartment to come back to Singapore.

And, 10 minutes I left, my parents were left shaken(pun very intended) when the building rocked to and forth, scaring the hell outta them, and they evacuated the building right away.

Apparently, the building was hit by the impact of earthquake in Sumatra.

My mom told how fearful she was and was almost, or already crying cos the shakes were pretty violent.

I do not dare to imagine how I would react if I was alone there, and it happens.

The night when I got back to my JB place on Sunday, was the night when an earthquake struck again.

I was just pretty glad it wasn’t something like the one before.

***

In 2003, there was once when Philip and I were back in JB for a short visit.

Thunder struck.

I was jolted awake, sprang up from the bed, and launched into a series of blood-curdling shrills.

My fear for thunders. Or rather, fears.

The husky and low rumbles early Monday morning scared the poo outta me.

Thank God I had someone over the line enduring my snappish mood cos I was darn unsettled by the consistent thunders.

The thunders teased, taunted, and mocked.

My palms sweaty, mood cranky, and was a bundle of nerves.

I loathe it when my nerves control me. Anything will just rub me off the wrong way, and set me off.

And I didn’t have my sturdy duvet to offer me a cuddle and wrap me in its warmth and security.

All I had was a thin strip of blanket offering me minimal support.

At least, I wasn’t quite alone.

Phew.

***

Tuesday was spent shopping aimlessly just because I wanted to get out of the house.

Ladies, I say, get your asses to JB to get your manicure done.

I am not a fan of manicures cos I am so darn lazy with keep my nails in check and act all graceful just not to get my nails chipped.

Yet, whenever I am back in JB, I can’t resist doing a frenchie for just a mere 30 ringgits.

O.P.I. somemore. As if I know the difference.

I headed for a sumptuous meal of Genki Sushi right after that, and that was the only proper meal I had throughout my entire stay in JB.

I had wanted to watch a movie by myself but I didn’t want to be taken advantage of by those irritatingly dishonest cab drivers, so decided to head home early instead.

It was then more reading.

I had wanted to dye my hair blonde out of boredom, but I should count my blessings(?) that I didn’t have any ringgits with me.

***

What I detest most is when I have to stand by the roadside to hail for a cab.

Even before I could cross the road, I would have countless vehicles horning honking at me, and some of them would shout or whistle in an obscene manner.

There were many times when I was waiting for a cab, I would have to call VampTreSS or other friends just to have someone on the phone with me whilst I waited.

And you think it’s because the way I dress that got me unnecessary attention?

Imagine this.

Ting in slippers, glasses, hair dishevelled, and super homely clothes.

I tell you, I suspect they would do the same to my mum, too.

And *&@!#!%#%! I had a truck horning at me that scared the hell outta me just now at 11.45pm.

Those bunch of sleazeballs. Arghhh.

It was a dark, and quiet roadside, you see.

I should be glad I wasn’t kidnapped or robbed.

I should start practising the use of my middle finger.

Or fine-tuned my vulgarities-spitting.

I felt an ounce of anger brewing in me when VampTreSS mocked ‘Hello? What vulgarities?‘ when I said I have been using ‘Nah-beh‘ too often.

Tsk tsk.

The vice you pick up when you have friends like Vamp, Jane Doe, and FF.

But I thought that was really cute, you see. And it doesn’t really sound vulgar, don’t you think?

But.. darn.

I got insulted thoroughly when a friend of mine told me ‘dont act cute!‘ whenever I mustered that crude phrase out.

ACT CUTE?!?!?!!

Scolding nah-beh is act cute?!?!?!?!

I am appalled!

Apparently, they deemed my vulgarities too melodious.

They laughed whenever I try to curse.

No good.

No one is taking me seriously.

I promise I shall curb my nah-behism.

Hey wait, I thought I am supposed to brush it up so I could launch them at those buggers who disturb me when I wait for cabs.

Ah well.

***

I strolled in the peaceful night when I finally arrived back in Singapore, stopping by Al-azhar for some food.

The walk to the eating joint was a quiet, and refreshing one.

No souls in sight, but the heavy bushes that cooled the night.

It’s pretty exhilarating.

To feel that slight tinge of fear, and constantly looking over your shoulder, yet enjoying the solitude all at the same time.

It was 5 minutes before the buzz of life lit up the night yet again, when the eatery was in sight.

Plonked my bag heavily onto the seat right next to me, I ordered some coin-prata with mutton curry.

Indulgence that would definitely show up around the midriff in few hours’ time.

I sat there, out of place, juggling people-watching, novel-reading, and eating all at the same time.

I was the only lonely soul, sitting alone at the big, round table, whilst everyone was busking in the company of their loved ones, or friends.

The row of bikes parked along the road reminded me of the old days of riding.

I tried to look for the past of mine in the faces in the eatery.

The number-plate browsing, the model-naming of the makes of bike, or even recognising the design of helmets on the chairs and tables.

Darn.

I am such a misfit, everywhere.

***

Funny how everything would seem so foreign in just a couple of days.

I felt so detached as I caught up with blog-hopping, as well as blogging itself.

Did I lose touch or something?

Even my room feels a little odd, and has an unfamiliar musk to it.

Ah.

For now, I shall spread the laundry on the pole.

Please kindly remind me to blog about bloggers for the next entry.

Should be quite fun.

Sensationally so.

Shucks. Mr Tabloid should be making a best pal out of me, ya know?

这一夜，我明白了。。。

婷，本来就很懒。

累了。 跺了跺脚， 扁了扁嘴，闹了闹情绪。

自我怜惜，任性地要找个人来把她背起。

怎么？人影也没一个呀。

她用仅有的力气抬起头来。

那瞬间，她看见了。

嘴角牵起，笑了笑，她看见属于她的那一片天。

那片天，也只属于她。真真实实地，无人可夺走的。

欸，还蛮蔚蓝的。挺艳丽的。

没有了原来的那片阴霾。

主宰这一切的那一位老爷爷，并没把她遗忘。

明白了。 累了，痛了，苦了，走下去的决定权，始终是在自己的掌上。

牢牢固固的。要推给人，是不可能的。

拭去在眼角逗留的最后一滴悲伤的懦弱，深深的抽了一口气。

用残留的一丝的力气与毅力，将因疲惫而卷缩的身躯摊开。 有点疼。

举起了起了泡的右脚，有点重。

吐了那口气，闭上了眼，把脚稳稳地着回实地。

那暖暖的感觉，就是所谓的成就感吗？ 那是我吗？

迈开了第一步。不是很难。真的做到了吗？

原来，信心，也只有自己能施舍给自己。

了了。天使也不一定是用飞的。

不回头了。