My computer is moving like a rusty piece of scrap metal, but no matter. Our local paper has a pointless new addition to it called Urban. It’s really just another frivolous addition to the country’s already extensive range of badly designed, shoddily planned magazines. Content wise, it tells you stupid things like How to Marry Millionaire, and actually gives you an A-List of rich Singaporean twenty-somethings. I think it’s tragically sexist and the author probably pulled it out of her spangly thronged ass.
When I read it this morning, I went, ‘ah hah!’ All women want money, and they want it with doing the least possible work as is feasible. Some guy I used to date (smart, very enterprising local fellow who decided we were ‘together’ because we had had sex after a bout of too much alcohol) told me he always starts to feel a little disenchanted with the female race every time he reads whatever I have to say. In particular my recent post on the Yank wanting to pay for a holiday and on-top-of-that to have company for a weekend.
With respect to that, and very much to my surprise, Yank is very keen on it and has been emailing me constantly and called me up once to apologize for being unable to arrange a date in till end November. It’s just something I want to do, and will. My taste of being the Postmodern Courtesan, at least just this once. It’s not something I plan to do very much of (if ever again), after this one.
I thought about it, and realized that it didn’t matter if you were male or female, but sometimes, you have sex, and end up feeling shortchanged. A total of two men have told me so in the past week; given the scenario where they were to have sex with women old enough to be their mothers, they’d do it, because sex is just generally good for you, but nonetheless, still come out feeling somewhat cheated. I have definitely slept with guys just because I like them and they rocked my ass in bed; for certain, I have wondered, occasionally if they were just using me. But I often tell myself if that were the case, then I was guilty of it too, although the truth is I still cared for them in my own way. And as such can be sure that they saw me beyond booty, because I did likewise for guys I didn’t really care for deeply, but liked, nonetheless.
You can’t put a finger to where exactly or in what case a person would feel shortchanged. If it happens, then it just does, and the person that feels that way can only blame herself. The thing is, if I had to sleep with someone, and pretend that I found him sexually attractive, I would require a great deal of incentive before I could possibly bring myself to do it. It’s not about the ‘going rate’ for certain; I am more concerned for my sanity, and if I’m going to get paid, then I must do a good job. Higher wages prevent people from skimping, we all know that. Although I am still wondering if it’s really possible to find someone sexually unattractive when you’re having sex with them. As long as they don’t look like Doctor Von Doom. And besides, I used to have weird sexual fantasies where I got to fuck Boris Vallejo’s incubuses that came in from my bedroom window as a child.
But the article in the paper just made me cringe. I am all for marrying a millionaire (even thought the truth is, I don’t really care for it. I have no love for branded clothes or expensive cars nor for Sunday brunches in Ipanema. I am content with supporting local designers and bakeries, as long as they continue making me pretty dresses and good bread). It is nice if a millionaire comes your way, but a measure of affluence is sufficient, honestly. I am completely sure there are many other women who feel likewise, and must be incensed at the paper portraying us as retail whores.
There is something inherently wrong with Singaporean culture, and I think it’s how so many of us look at purchasing things, spending money often and as much as we possibly can (discounts regardless, we just end up buying more of something that’s not needed) as a sort of enthusiastic, escapist fantasy. It is the experience of purchasing, or buying that we enjoy, and possibly enjoy more then the product we do eventually pay for. (Food and sex can be exceptions because they confer an immediate, un-dissipated, biological pleasure. They cannot go out of fashion.) Cupido likens the problem to Singaporean women not getting fucked enough, and from the emails I receive from some of them, it will most certainly seem this way.
You are stupid. Don’t you see, if men annoy you, don’t listen to your every whim, don’t buy you nice things, no sex! Why must you fuck them just because you like them and be the low-maintenance whore you are?
Holy Cow.
I don’t need to explain that sort of logic to you. Is that a good exemplum for the problem I’m trying to point out?
There is really no need to encourage this sort of stupidity in the local paper. So a many housewives now know who owns 67.7 Million dollars worth of ornamental fish (Apparently the Luo Han is truly a harbinger of good fortune. Am sure they brought Kenny Yap his fortune.) Um, allright. Does anyone even know who is to be awarded this years Nobel Peace Prize? Not that knowing that perfectly pointless piece of information will change anything, but if you want to have a good conversation with you’re soon to be millionaire husband, I think you had better start learning from Becky Sharp.
How bright can you be if you need The Straits Times to teach you how to snag a man?
xoxox
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