***
Why Some Local Boys Really Suck

I got another horrid comment on one of my photos again. I don't actually ever bother reading them anymore, I can tell if it's horrid in a glance, and I've simply resigned myself to deleting them. No point giving these weirdos the satisfaction that they actually bother me.

These people are seriously weird and endowed with personalities smaller then their penises. I bet. So small they can't even find it.

Oh you're so disgusting, you're going to hell, blah blah, the whole diatribe. Do these people have sex drives at all? They think I talk too much about sex, well I admit I think I do too. But, hey luv, I'm sure I'll find having intellectual conversations with my books more worthwhile then having them with you.

Sometime back the Best Friend and I, we were having pizza at the best place to have pizza in Singapore -Modesto's across Orchard Hotel- and he suggested going down to the hotel.
"What for?"
"The church I used to go to, they're having some kinda of 2 day seminar there" (Try not to laugh. At Orchard Hotel? What are they trying to prove? In case you don't know, it's where the local girls go to earn a quick buck. $300 for an orgasm, so Mr. Big tells me.)
"My friends have a room there, we could bunk in for awhile and have a smoke and poke around their stuff"
I felt a little akward, because I didn't know his 'friends', but whatever. So we went.
I was in a little tube top and rather decent black pants; but when you go under the sheets in a tube top... nothing looks decent. I looked naked.
So He* was sitting around playing retarded songs on the guitar (They were retarded because he was coming up with the riffs on the spot and I was making up the tune half drunk on Bailey's)Then his friends came in and thought I was really naked. They stared at me for a long while, and I was wondering what the hell could possibly be the matter, then it hit me, so I did the only sensible thing I could; got out from under the sheets and went up to him and said Hi. He shook my hand like I had AIDS or something and they left. I looked at the B-F, he shrugged his shoulders, and we got back to making retarded songs in a vain attempt to emulate Ani DiFranco.
Then 5 guys barged into the room and looked at me with Oh So Grave eyes and told me to get out. Of course we did. Oh I know how these weirdos feel when they're at a religious camp and they feel all self-righteous and super-keen on obeying all of the 10 comandments given on a Mt. Senai.

This is where the irony of it all comes in.
A couple of weeks later, the B-F was cycling around the resevoir, or drinking and walking about, I don't remember these things; he caught the guy who told me to "Get Out" sitting under a tree with some slut sitting on his trunk. He* only told me that after I got a really queer message from him apologizing for his behaviour that night. Heh.

***

I've decided that morality has one singular value. To me anyway. Maybe I've know it for a long time already, I just never got down to describing it in words.

I believe it's there to enrich our lives; to give us a semblance of virtue that gives us satiisfaction when we manage to adhere to it. There really is some manner of self-approval to be derived from restraint. Huxley explored it in Brave New World. Sexual Liberation, complete, totalitarian sexual liberation, hyper-sexuality, isn't really genuine freedom into what sex really is. You'll get sick of it. It's pointless; But you already knew that. We all have different levels of morality, varying tolerance for self-control. But I don't think, I genuinely can't believe, having none is a possible level. That's for animals, and even prairie voles are supposed to be faithful to their mates.

Morality is not around to impose on your happiness, and if it does well, don't impress your ideas on anyone else. Because if it's making you feel like a caged bird; well, why promote an unhealthy thing. Other people have enough stress without you putting more uncessary weight onto them with your silly religious ideals.

***

I bought a new book today.

Reading Lolita in Tehran