Blogging..........

I think it's fair to say that I haven't blogged in some time now.

"Why!?" I hear the masses scream. "James we love you!"

It's because a) my life is not all that exciting; and b) not much has really changed since my last significant post (before my series on wondering gay in Malaysia). Let's take a look in to the jGeneration just to make sure:

University

I have since completed my university degree -- Bachelor of Arts (Political Science/Sociology). I'm now overqualified for retail jobs, underqualified for government jobs, and should grow my hair to dangerously long levels (preferably in white) while wearing dark green suits.

I must admit, finishing uni was slightly underwhelming on the day, but I look back at it with great snobbishness. Not a day goes by where I don't think "move it punk, or I will explain the current nature of your social situation using the functionalist perspective of Emile Durkheim".

Just like condoms on a gay cruise, however, one is never enough. I feel a need to add to my collection, hopefully one day having enough to play "snap" with.

Business

Along with being an elitist bastard, I have also started my own business. No, not as a finance consultant (not exactly in much demand these days) or an airline (soon TBA though), but as a personal trainer. A classic small business, doing the hard yards to generate income, spending arduous hours bookkeeping and doing admin (that's the version the Tax Department receives upon audit), engaging in bitter competition with others and hoping for that one day where we can go on holiday.

I do love it though. It's tough competing with 10 business in the space of a few hundred square metres. There are hugely long hours. No guaranteed income. Poor management and so forth. But I will look back and say, "you know what, I gave it a bloody good shot". A source of achievement.

So of course it you do want personal training, please call me.

Wondering Gay Mk IV

My fourth foray overseas has been in planning for a few months now, and involves Singapore, Malaysia and China. Food, shopping, shopping, shopping, food, drinking, shopping, drinking, food, tourist things, photos, photos, beer, aeroplanes, is the planed itinerary.

Driving Around, Yaris style

At risk of provoking GetUp! into a frenzy of green-bashing, negative, life-threatening comments, I am now a car owner. Yes, I contribute my 4 million tonnes of CO2 into the atmosphere with the best of them now. While I do love my new car, and love paying next to nothing in petrol, no rev-head man (such as myself) is particularly ecstatic at a l.3L engine. Yeah it builds its way to 100km/h (over 14 seconds) and fills the cabin with enraged tire noise, but there is just no kick. Still, better to have a car like that than one that speeds when you so much as look at the accelerator..............................

Misc.

My cousin has married, I love Filipino food, resigned my job with MONSU Caulfield (causing the need for elections) and turned down another, no longer have a phobia of singlets, save money again, eat like a horse (not the last parallel between myself and equine creatures), have multiplied my undies levels by dangerous proportions, and have moved on from my "rice queen" phase (for want of a better term) barring the notable exception of Filipinos.

Following this self-indulgent blog, allow me to assess something more topical in my next post. Until then, smile, spend money like the Government suggests and enjoy the credit-squeezed world.

I Don't Speak Malay, So I'll Let the Funky Music Do the Talking

Kuala Lumpur 28-29 June 2008

I had no idea that A$90 per night, between the two of us, could buy such opulence. Though we had the wrong side of the building, the view from the 29th floor was pretty outstanding. Overlooking Jalan Tun Razak (a major expressway in KL) presented an interesting opportunity for me -- I have always wanted to stand naked in front of a window high up. (Don't ask why -- I don't know the answer.) I decided one night as I walked out of the shower, in my towel, to just drop it, and casually turn around to get dressed. I don't think that crane operator saw anything, but we can't be sure. There was no loud smash anyway...

For this blog let me present KL by theme.


Eating

Actually there was nothing too spectacular here, we stuck to our local's approach, eating cheap nasi lemak and chicken rice, but it was more the stories behind them. The first night was actually quite hilarious. Our waiter was... questionable. Dave and I were sure he was a "friend", but who can say. He was as slim as anything, probably fitting into a size 20 pair of pants, and had some queer gesturing going on. It's always fun in these situations to bring on the politeness, deep appreciation for their services, and a smile.

Dave's boyfriend had requested a Malaysian flag for his collection; having seen another guy in the restaurant receive a burger/foccacia thing with one of those toothpick flags, I said that he should just take the boy one of those. We decided that it was a great (strangely hysterical) idea, and requested some from the slim waiter. It took some time. He didn't speak English:

"can we have one of those flags?"
"pepper?"
"no, flag"
"knife"
"no no, that guy there? he has a Malaysia flag in a toothpick"
"oh toothpick!"
"no! Malaysia flag! like that guy has"
There was a curious look at both of us, then he walked off and brought back three. I was very happy.

The staff loved us. I think because we were two well dressed westerners (Dave like Kylie in his new top), and me with my thoughtful manners and politeness. We did exploit their reciprocation of niceness when we went to buy pre-drinks from 7-11. Not realising that the Tigers were not twisties, we went back to borrow a bottle opener from the restaurant staff. They happily obliged and Dave and I strolled through Jalan Bukit Bintang with our beer. It was time for a spot of gay clubbing. Finally.

The other eating experience involved chicken rice at, of all places, KFC. Chicken rice is a big dish in Malaysia. Easy in its ingredients, but incredibly tasty. It was an interesting adventure, though I wouldn't recommend it. Go elsewhere for it. Too manufactured. I spent most of my time trying not to smash my phone, considering whether the hotties I spoke to regarding WiFi were Israeli (they couldn't have been... Israelis are not allowed in Malaysia and vice-versa), and trying to figure out which of the "boys" near us was a woman.

Shopping

For me, KL was the ultimate shopping experience. Fashion is more or less on par with Australia, little interesting clothes shops are plentiful and the currency makes the whole thing extra fun.

• Jalan Bukit Bintang

Just an awesome part of the city. Heaps of food, heaps of shops, heaps of bars and clubs and well serviced by public transport. We kicked off with Dave buying gold shoes and me offering a lingering smile to some dude as we passed each other by (...slut). Stopping of at Lot 10, which has definitely seen its day, it was on to Lau Yat -- an electronics heaven. If you can't find a camera or mobile phone here you are clearly drunk. Haggle, price the same item at 900 different shops, ask for add-ons -- it's all part of a game. Just don't try buying an out of date phone though, as was discovered looking for the LG Prada phone. It's all great fun -- unfortunately I wasn't out for a new camera (mine is new) and at that stage was just going to have my stupid phone repaired.

Pavilion is also worth mentioning. It's full of upmarket, designer shops but all purchasable with the wonderful Ringitt. It was there I fulfilled my huge desire to own a Fossil watch with a thick leather band. All for a much lower price than I could ever have bought it here. Mmmm, watch. It's very hot if I may say so myself. Philosophy was a great little shop where everything has a Chinese twist to it. The guy who served us initially wore glasses... until Dave and I walked in. I'm not sure what possessed him to take them off, but he did it very quickly. As Dave was trying on a shirt (a few times over) I considered asking where the best gay venues were in KL. He was gay I'm sure, but I thought better of my question. I later tried on a pair of ladies jeans for the first time ever at cK. They were a nice cut, and I had an arse for once, but my awesome belt wouldn't have fit. Oh well. I'm a man anyway. Pavilion is a fantastic shopping centre -- well worth visiting when in KL for its shops, clothes and really cool items.

• KLCC -- Suria
  

Suria was part of a massive day of shopping. It's funny because we went in here while I made a quick phone call (we were completely lost, having gotten off at the wrong LRT station), and I opposed it so much. I was all "no no no, I don't want to shop here, it's all designer labels I can buy at home". That was until I hit shopping mode and decided that designer labels were just what I wanted (and at a cheaper price). Mmmmmm A|X. I didn't buy anything , except an Ice Coffee sipped through the interestingly titled "straight straws" (for straight people to suck on), but all fun.

• Midvalley

Midvalley Megamall is exactly what the name suggests. It has its own train station and is like a number of our centres put together in one consumption frenzy. Just one stop from KL Sentral, but a massive stampede to get on the train. Midvalley is worth checking out, though I didn't have much luck here, apart from Malaysian Men's Health. There's a sexy Asian man on the front cover, minus shirt. Yum. The foodcourt is very good (have the claypot Butter Chicken), there's a Starbucks for those, like me, who need coffee when shopping, and more shops than you can possibly visit.

I love the night life, I love to boogie

We only had two nights in KL, the second of which was a pretty lazy one, just people watching in a bar off Jln Bukit Bintang. Our first night, however, was pretty memorable. Even before leaving Australia, we had this club down as a Peel but grungier. I didn't think that could happen.

Tentative and nervous summed up our approach to Blue Boy. Beer in hand, we walked up to the door knowing in our minds it was a gay club, unsure of what to expect. Lonely Planet has proven itself USELESS in mapping out the night scene, not least because our "free" cover was actually RM20 (it did include a drink though).

Entering the club it instantly reminded me of the Peel. It was after 11:30pm and still dead. There were three other white men, then me. I was the youngest by at least 20 years. Thus it was a sea of young Asian men... sweaty and wearing little up top to combat the intense midnight heat, all niced up for a night out, all dancing sexily. I may have had a dream about such a scene.

Curiously, everyone seemed to be with their boyfriends. I was a bit annoyed at this for some reason; perhaps I wanted attention?:
"ahem... I'm white, Australian, train six days per week... somebody look at me now and ditch your boyfriends..." Something to that effect. Every person clung to their boyfriend, didn't dance with or look at anyone else, yet amazingly there was no dirty dancing or even touching. Forget kissing. (I later found out that some are so shy that they cling to their friends like tissues to a cum-stained torso. Further to this, despite their shyness, or being out on a date, I had my crotch squeezed a few times by a Malay guy... and then my arse on his way through. Thank you.)

Along with this curious idiosyncrasy of gay clubbing Southeast Asian Style, many danced like whores in front of the mirror (not unusual) and the drag show was the best ever.

Literally, best ever.

It was a piss take of Malaysian society -- there were women (men, remember) in full Muslim garb and a Bollywood/Hindi dancer for instance. Had my phone been working at that stage I would have had some great photos and videos. Alas, it is all in my memory, and for me to await again, and recommend to all.

My experience of gay clubbing in Malaysia was as much fun as it was delving into the cultural differences of our Asian neighbour. It was an experience I cannot wait to relive, and do so to an even greater extent.

*

My stop in Kuala Lumpur came to an end on a drizzly morning, destined for Pulau Penang. I was sad to leave, having had the time of my life in this city. Nothing describes how much I adore KL. Beautiful, tropical, laid back but cutting edge. I am counting down the days until I see it again -- the magical place that is.

Sunning by the Melaka "River"

Melaka
26-27 June 2008

I'm cheap. Very cheap. Instead of catching a taxi to the bus station I suggested we take the train, which meant carrying all of my bags. I don't regret taking the luggage I did, though it is a bitch in searing heat and humidity. We FINALLY got there (after stopping at another bus station -- the wrong one) and were told that the nearest money changer was just around the corner..... It was some time away in India. Little India, but it felt like a whole trip to New Delhi.

Clearing customs twice, you definitely know you're in Malaysia when (a) every second and third car on the road is a Proton or a Perodua; and (b) trucks unflinchingly try to overtake three other trucks with oncoming traffic tearing their way. The ultimate game of chicken. The palm trees abounded as we made our way to Melaka -- a town with a rich colonial history (ruled at one stage or another by the British, Dutch or Portugese). Funny how I'd never seen a Tesco's until getting off the bus at Sentral. Fucking huge. (Turns out Japan's version is called Jesco... trivial knowledge you may need one day.)

The streets in Melaka are small, all one way, fairly busy and all together dangerous for pedestrians. However the buildings that align the streets are amazingly pretty. All are influenced by Chinese architectural tradition thus they are very distinctive, ornamental, and many are a beautiful maroon/red colour. The hotels are mostly Chinese guest houses, and have a small frontage but go back for miles. I think we picked the most mozzie-ridden one in town, though it was one night and RM80. Can't really complain.

Shame about no window though... nothing like being caged in with nothing to do but watch Chinese and Malay drama (though it must be said, that is awesome fun for passing time... pretty guys and endless over-dramatisation).

Though I did enjoy my time there, and the food, the town was altogether quite boring really. There were some nice photo op's, some nice restaurants here and there, but not much for two 21 year olds to do. We enjoyed the night at a restaurant with live music and the arrogant Englishman, speaking of whether the blond guy we saw while I was buying t-shirts was actually real, or whether we imagined him in a flashback to gay porn, and discussing how much fun KL was going to be.

Melaka is great for arts and crafts, traditional Nonya foods and the middle class traveller who wants to chill a bit. Take in a museum or two, enjoy the cultural surrounds... Put it this way, it's pretty, glad we saw it, but it's not a thrill-a-minute kind of place. Stop for a night, then head for KL.

Which we did.

My title for this blog refers to the Melaka River which, you may be surprised to know, runs straight through the heart of the town. Now, there is something deeply wrong about river... what was it again...oh yeah, it doesn't flow. Which means the Yarra looks healthy in comparison to the light brown colour, and there are more mosquitoes than the tropics in monsoon season. My belief is that the construction work downstream, closer to the mouth, has blocked up the flow. Makes the river front properties a little cheaper I'd say, as the photo attests.

It's Just a Fling Baby, Fling Baby

Singapore
25-26 June 2008

It seemed like days. Flying a discount carrier 8,000 kilometres; transiting in the world's smallest (arguably lest equipped) airport; "sleeping" at such a horrendous angle; reading over Lonely Planet a million times over... Ten hours later it was over: Dave and I arrived in Singapore.

A curious look over the new Budget Terminal, a curious look from Immigration, and a (curious) pick up of what became known as the esky, we jumped on the first MRT to the hotel to ditch the bags. Edwin, the night reception bitch, was terribly helpful and seemed incredibly proud of himself that he remembered my name (though, with a Chinese spin). I mention Edwin because I found it terribly funny to put on my "charm" to see what happened.... As to when I became confident enough to do that I'll never know.

We caught Singapore at the beginning of the work day. People were freshly showered, sitting quietly on the trains, shuffling off to work. Stepping off at Raffles Place, the beauty of the concrete jungle confronted us. To me, the city state is a magical place. So orderly, trim and proper. Seems like there is so little rebellion from the 9am-5pm working, 6-10pm shopping daily routine. Seems like everyone is programmed like robots. But I love every bit of its social and cultural fabric (bar the crippling conservatism). So it was an amazing experience to catch my favourite city at my favourite time of day.

After checking out the Merlion, taking an imitation shot of the Singaporean founders and complaining about the heat, we staggered our tired bodies to Lau Pa Sat for a S$4 char siu pork dish. Tasty, cheap and fresh. At that point you know you're tired when you fall asleep at the table, as Dave had. We hoped Edwin had pulled some strings for the sexy Australians and that our room was ready before check out. Thankfully it was, and it was nanna nap time.

Three hours sleep in over 2 days is not what the human body was designed for. Still, I pushed it to the limits. We got up and went for a walk through the markets we'd seen being set up earlier in the day, and checked out the local equivalent of Target (god knows why... it was airconditioned, which was definitely working in its favour). Later on in the night there was some freshening up, some dinner and a spot of gay hunting. In an effort to save on covers we settled on Backstage Bar in Chinatown... and it was a pretty damn good choice.

Dave virtually took over the music rendering it a night of Girls Aloud, Sophie, Kylie and amazingly Young Divas(!). Kinda weird singing along to This Time I Know it's for Real, at a gay bar, in notoriously homophobic Singapore. Good times.

I will save my gushiness for this country to my last piece. Suffice to say I adore Singapore so much. It's streets ahead of Australia in every way (apart from minority bashing) and it lures me more and more every time. If there weren't the strong ties to Australia, I'd move there in a heartbeat.



















Gayest photo ever?

jGeneration Goes Global Again

Days to go: 19 hours

Melbourne.

Six months ago I executed my travel plans to Southeast Asia once again. Now, I sit anxious that the airline I have booked with (the rather cheap Tiger Airways) does not shaft me with its anal-ness, and by this time tomorrow, I am to be in Darwin en route to Singapore.

Malaysia represents the last place in SE Asia I have a strong desire to travel to (barring the Philippines). Singapore is a country that I loved the first time, and will visit twice in the next week or so. These countries together are everything I want from a holiday -- beautiful culture, wonderful food and a world completely different to the country I call home.

There will be lots of flying -- not my preferred mode of domestic travel. I intend there will be lots of photos taken (I am, to all intents and purposes, a Japanese tourist). I hope to meet lots of awesome people, both local and tourist. I wish to spend money on cool new clothes, gifts and silly things, for myself and those I love. Most of all, I plan for a memorable though whirlwind trip through the Peninsular and its island cousin.

I will try desperately to keep up a travel blog (hard due to the short time span), for it is something to entertain all, and for me as a record of my trip.

Melbourne -- Darwin -- Singapore -- Melaka -- Kuala Lumpur -- Penang -- Kuala Lumpur -- Singapore -- Darwin -- Melbourne.

The jGeneration hits Southeast Asia again... this time gayer, independent and out for a good time.

Reasons not to Drink (Mk II)

I have plotted a parallel between my not blogging in a while and not drinking in a while. You see, I haven't had a drink in many months -- for no other reason than the last time I did I felt guilty at what I was doing to my body. Last night I thought I'd let go a bit, however, and let the intoxicating effect of alcohol take over.

It was a decision I now regret. Why?

• Dirty dancing with the best friend

Can be fine to an extent. I walked to the line and crossed it, with some arse grabbing and Kath and Kim style kissing (which is not real kissing, for those who have not seen the great show). It was not the best idea I've ever had to grind up against (while drunk) the man whose blog is now linked with the jGeneration (hyperdingo.blogspot.com)...drunkenness exacerbates all.

• Dirty dancing with the ex-

And if the above situation raised eyebrows from the onlooking and increasingly disapproving boyfriend, dancing with his ex- was about the worst thing I could have done. Yes, they dated when I was 14 (Year 9 for the record), and for a month, but still, ex- status is something different. Something you don't play with.

Turns out I touched the man's penis. Now, in my defence, I obviously did this by accident. I had no desire to touch his penis in any way, shape or form. But nevertheless that is what happened, and yet another reason why I was probably suited to the DD role much better.

• Actually seriously thinking eating a kebab is a good idea

It isn't people. It just isn't.

• Having a desire to go to the Market

Where in comparison I would have been sober, and in remarkably good mental health? I didn't even have my wallet on me, so how I intended to get in I have no idea. I should mention in complaint, however, why the hell did Heaven's Door close at 3am? What the hell kind of place closes at 3am.

• Hitting

It is very hard to conceptualise and gauge strength when one is drunk. I managed to hit a few times, causing a degree of enragement as a consequence. (I'm not talking about a Barry Hall king hit... I'd be typing this from jail... rather a hardish open palmed hit... and before you all say that's a slap, it's much better than the boxing techniques I know and love.)

• Pissing in a carpark somewhere

All class that is. I seem to recall a Mercedes parked nearby. I didn't piss on it. I do recall seeing how far I could go in either direction though. But let's be honest, who hasn't done this.

• Becoming too helpless to function on my own

Completely helpless. I didn't want to be left alone, fell into bed shivering, spilt Kebab shite on me and looked like a complete twat.

• Lost assignment time

For which I feel so remotely guilty it's not funny. I have two assignments due in the next four weeks, and my research is not progressing terribly quickly. Hell.

All of this happened on not many drinks, and a stomach lined with Starbucks, lots of water and lots of exercise prior. Clearly I'm out of practice with this sort of stuff, or my grand old age of 21 is catching up with me.

The person I became last night was not the image the jGeneration should be exuding. I was a complete nightmare, I feel guilty for doing it and believe it or not, my assignments got no closer to finishing. I danced slutilly with the bestie, touched the ex where only Catholic priests dare, and ate a god damn Kebab. Eek.

Until next time, gay in forward in a sober, designated-driver world.

Barometer of Sadness

I found myself in a particularly sad mood today. There are a number of reasons behind it which I will not delve into at this point in time. Suffice to say that when I hopped on the train today, I did not feel like pulling myself out of the sadness, rather supplement it with sad music.

I realised as I was flicking through the 5000 songs on my iPod, 4900 of which I don't listen too, that certain songs measure my mood, and act as a mood barometer.

Today's emotion: I was upset.
Level: very (there were tears involved).
Music I went straight to: "Back to Bedlam" -- James Blunt.

Now, I know what you're thinking... 'James! How could you listen to him!' And so forth with the anti-James Blunt ramblings. Let me respond in an eloquent and dignified manner: fuck off.

Within the album there is a hierarchy of sadness also -- at the top is "Goodbye My Lover". DANGEROUS dangerous song. Steer clear at all costs. But there is more than enough to keep me in that melancholy mood. "Cry", "You're Beautiful", they're all good.

Above all, however, the pièce de résistance -- the song that inherently brings tears to a sad jGeneration stems from one of my favourite artists; a gay (very camp) man whom I wish to see one day -- "Hallelujah", sung by Rufus Wainwright.

Rufus you make me sad sometimes.

So the barometer level reached today was "James Blunt" with a shade of "Hallelujah".

I'm mostly fine now.

Gay it forward peeps.

What We Learn From "Hairspray"

Hairspray.

What can be said of this movie. So many wonderful moments.

Having just passively listened to half, watching the remaining half, there are a number of take-home lessons we can draw from the movie.

• Black people are cool

Yes, a broad and gross over-generalisation. But if Hairspray teaches us anything, black people can dance better, move better, and are just cooler than us white people.

• John Travolta CAN pull of a fat suit

My apprehension towards seeing the movie was based on not only Travolta being in the movie, but him in drag and a fat suit. Gotta hand it to them, it does work. The casting director deserves either sectioning or an Oscar.

• You can't get tired of Queen Latifah in "Big, Blond and Beautiful"

The best song in the whole movie. I love it.

• Zac Efron is an absolute heart throb

No explanation needed. Teenage girls and gay men all have one thing in common in this context -- you figure it out.

• Corney Collins (James Marsden) is hot too!

He reminds me of John Barrowman (from 'let's have a gay off' in Nevermind the Buzzcocks and other assorted roles, including "Captain Jack" in Dr Who).

• You can never underestimate the power of a good Cold War joke

See the scene where Amanda Bynes and Nikki Blonski walk into the nuclear shelter.

And so it goes.

Let us celebrate Hairspray, and all its colour and fun.

...

I'm over it already...

I Just Love a bit of Cake

There are a number of truly satisfying things in life. Sex is, of course, at the top of the list. I could go for some now, but none is currently on hand. Then there is that feeling I get when a client smiles and thanks me for my help, or they walk out of the studio sweating and screaming they hate me (from the hard work I put them through, of course). There is the feeling of curling into bed with a loved one, and the feeling of a smooth latte on a bitterly cold day.

Today I combined two satisfying things at the same time -- a jam-filled lamington, and a mocha from Mama Dukes at Monash.

It was truly a heavenly experience. I felt enormously fat afterwards, and felt that I deserved the wildly wind-swept cycle to work, but it was totally worth it.

Ladies and gentlemen, let me recommend you try my satisfying experience.

(and yes, this blog had NO point at all.)

Odds and Ends

Yes, it has been a long time since I last blogged. At this rate, I will have six by year's end. I've been taking a bit of a break -- that is to say, I've been lazy in my webcasting of things that happen in my big gay life.

Let me theme this blog with all the things I am not:

• A Sydney-basher without having visited
  

In the true spirit of my subheading, let me start with Mardi Gras. This is one kick arse event people. It's like a gay pilgrimage, one I made for the first time this year back in March. I certainly had my reservations about going -- I'm having an awkward moment with alcohol, and I wasn't terribly close to the people we were going with. However it was very awesome. The colour, glitz and short shorts were in abundance and there was no shortage of open gayness around the city. To all who haven't been, whether straight or gay, book your hotels now (www.roamfree.com.au) -- you won't regret it.

While I was in Sydney for the first time, I also managed to fall in love with the place. We Melbournians make fun of it, loathe it, and gloat when we get something over the bastards (see!). Yet it's such a beautiful city. The harbour is stunning, Opera House amazing, and the Bridge a breath taking walk on a leisurely afternoon. Though I have been back since -- the most overwhelming day I can remember -- I look forward to having a touristy weekend once more, doing all those things the Japanese do with vigour and proficiency.

• Unemployed

I have three jobs now. Count it. Three! Something's bound to go wrong at some stage, and already on minimal hours in all of them (they're for building and development), there are a number of clashes. Along with MONSU, I work as a Gym Instructor at Bayfit Leisure Centre, and a Personal Trainer at FitSmart Personal Training, in South Melbourne.

Cool huh?

Keeps me busy and in some money (though, it could be more). I will have to start building up a client base very shortly. Who's for some PT?

Anyone who has a great name for a PT business too, I need suggestions.

• As lacking in confidence as I once was

It's true -- dealing with people in a number of different capacities has changed my confidence levels. Also, in my personal training I believe in myself to a great extent; so this helps my levels of self esteem. Weird for a dosage of confidence to be injected into the jGeneration...

• Virginal to the Mocha

A latte was my staple drink. I've had so many over the years, full fat, "skinny", soy and lite soy, however I have since been introduced to the Mocha. Now, don't get me wrong, I've always known it was there, known what it was, and what it tastes like. Yet the time has come to accept the Mocha as a fantastically orgasmic drink. Today I nearly missed my train (the last for over 30 mins) just to have one. Totally worth it. I made that train anyway.

• Clueless about Filipino food

So very tasty and hearty. I crave the food I don't know the name of, let alone what's in it. But oh my god it's amazing. Yes, everything has hot dogs in it, including Filo pasta sauce, and the desserts are so suggary one serving induces diabetes, but it's unique among South East Asian foods, and it's just brillliant. Go have some.... I'll be here when you get back.

So this has been a thoroughly boring blog about absolutely nothing. But let's call it lubing up before the sex. The next blog will be out of this world. I promise. Until then, enjoy the rest of Kevin Rudd's overseas trip. In fact, enjoy the rest of Brendan Nelson being the most hapless opposition leader since ALexander Downer too. Give it 12 more months people. You heard it here first.

Gay it forward peeps.