Forgive me Father, for it has been over 12 months since my last blog. Why I stopped is almost as vague as why I decided to start this one. Every day I am reminded I still have one -- I receive spam comments akin to: "I am a hot Japanese woman looking to enslave myself to you..."
Great. Cyber Japanese women throwing their cyber-boobs and vaginas at me. Vagina.
As I have little, yet far too many, things to write about, I have decided to sum it all up in a nice movie title. 10 things that have captivated me recently.
1. Hate: Tony Abbot
Are you guys serious? I leave the country for two weeks and the Liberals elect Mr Personality himself? I had to check several times, while chilling on the island paradise of Bohol, that I had read this news correctly. The most shocking part was the giant step to the Right by the Liberals -- it had been touted for years, but I never thought it possible especially after the demise of Howard. Turnbull and Nelson represented a new, more (small 'l') liberal approach to things -- clearly something the party wasn't ready for. Abbot will never be Prime Minister. He can't be. It will damage the country, and he'll be our Bush.
2. Hate: Barnaby Joyce
Oh deary me. Not only did I choke on my pancakes made by gandang Ricky Reyes after learning of his appointment to Shadow Minster for Finance, I proceeded to lose control when he tried to lecture me on finance, China and the precarious state of the US economy. How simple it is Barnaby! China will fail because the US doesn't buy anything from it because the US defaults on a loan. Simultaneously the US will fall into a black hole, and everybody will follow. Simple? If only economics, trade and finance were like that Barnaby, RBS wouldn't have to pay bonuses.
3. Hate: Climate Change
If press reports are to be believed, Copenhagen is not going well. Obama has already said there will be no binding agreement, and had pledged no support beyond 4% reductions. Yes greenies, this is better than nothing, don't shoot it down. But alas it won't save the world, or Tuvalu from sinking into the ocean. (will the come here as environmental refugees? And what will our moral responsibility be to them?) Countries clearly hate Australia (it's because Senator Wong is a lesbian I assure you) and China refuses to accept ANY burden of responsibility despite opening a new coal plant every week.
There is an agreement to be had. All 100+ countries need to realise this: they need to do SOMETHING, no matter what their circumstances are, no matter what the cost.
4. Like: Christmas
And I never like Christmas.
5. Hate: Internet Censorship
I understand, appreciate and applaud that Australia and China are good mates... sort of. We dig up shit and send it there, they put things together using child and cheap labour and we buy it. Beautiful. Capitalism in its purest form. Yet we will share another fun similarity before next year's election -- internet censorship. Obviously, child pornography, violence, instructions on crime should not be on the internet. There's little debate there. But the risk of internet censorship is where does it stop? A wikipedia page on penises? My precious pictures of men in underwear? News reports unfavourable to the Government? It's a Pandora's box, open to grave manipulation by the changing tides of politics.
6. Like: 30Rock
I have put Boston Legal on hiatus to watch this show. Alec Baldwin is fantastic, which doesn't explain why he's retiring from acting.
7. Like: The law
It's a beautiful thing. Sometimes we hate it -- i.e. a parking fine you get after being at the doctors for too long. But as far as human creations go, the law is so fundamental to a civil society, it is something we could not live without unless we want anarchy. I may have a different opinion in a year or two but it is now a very important part of my life.
8. Like: The Philippines
I have just returned from 16 days in the second most beautiful country on Earth (the most beautiful is Australia). The people are friendly and the happiest in Asia, the food is mouthwatering, the scenery magnificent and the culture and history wonderfully intriguing. A country which has had several foreign influences over it, yet forges ahead with the creation of an individual identity. A place with many wonders and secrets it is not ready for people to know of.
Arriving at 5:30am aboard "Asia's first, Philippine Airlines... Mabuhay", the air smelt like exhaust, success, poverty and pork, we left very slowly for Tagaytay. Volcano climbing, horse riding, Jolibee, zipline, wedding proposals, palace in the sky... it was among the most beautiful places I've been.
Leaving the cool for Cebu, I bitched for a while about the Hilton then learned quickly to learn that Philippines' second city is truly a jewel of the Visayas. It was my introduction to the mega mall, where I was simultaneously offered Viagra (for PHP1,000) and a puppy. Magellan's Cross, the Mactan Shrine where Lapu Lapu kicked Spanish arse, cathedrals, markets, jeeps, dodgy taxi drivers and the Church of Santo Nino. From here to Bohol, and the most secluded resort on the island (had awesome food though), and finally back to Manila (which words do not describe).
I will expand on the Philippines in time.
9. Like: Filipino Men
Dark skin, soft features, mysteriously dark eyes, not too tall but not too short, like eating, look good on a giant poster above Guadalupe advertising Bench/ undies.
10. Like: Gulaman
I don't need to describe it. It is your friend on a hot day.
Long winded and unnecessary. True to form...... I'm off to watch 30Rock.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Saturday, November 22, 2008
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.
"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.
Friday, July 04, 2008
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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
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 influence
d 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.
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 influence
d 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.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
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?
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?
Monday, June 23, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
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?
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.
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.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
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.
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.
And so it goes.
Let us celebrate Hairspray, and all its colour and fun.
...
I'm over it already...
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
- John Travolta CAN pull of a fat suit
- You can't get tired of Queen Latifah in "Big, Blond and Beautiful"
- Zac Efron is an absolute heart throb
- Corney Collins (James Marsden) is hot too!
- You can never underestimate the power of a good Cold War joke
And so it goes.
Let us celebrate Hairspray, and all its colour and fun.
...
I'm over it already...
Friday, April 11, 2008
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.)
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.)
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