The Princess managed to bugger me into going for Zouk Out this year, and I though, fuck you am I gonna pay $45 for a damn ticket to a rave party. $45 can buy me tickets to the theatre, it can buy two bottle of wine, it can buy me lunch at Lawry’s, although the last is of not much consequence since I don’t like steak anyway. But there are sweet advantages to being a girl, and one thing’s that you don’t have to get the tickets yourself.
After persistent reminders, I finally got down to asking some dudes if they got free tickets (those ang mohs in the Beverage industry –think the alcoholic sort- tend to have them). I think I was a complete idiot yesterday when the chef at the café asked me if I was going to Zouk Out, now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure he had been trying to invite me. Instead, I started some diatribe about how Zouk Out might actually be better then the Koh Sa Mui’s full moon party, because the gender ratio was more equalized (too many white males att he full moon rave, apparently. This was Mr. Big’s opinion). My sensibilities had been apparently completely prorogued by caffeine; I had a total of 6 espresso shots yesterday, and only managed to go to bed after a long
I set about asking a few guys if they had free tickets, and Terry offered! I was overjoyed, he’s so nice. (‘It’s not pushing it if I ask for one for my girlfriend, is it?/ No problem. Say thank you to daddy’).
I’ve been hanging out with the Princess a great deal these days, she’s simply lovely. We’ve got a special sign that has a steamed pau and little brass bell side by side that marks some personal belongings, and I’m thinking of working on it, so we can get a tattoo together. I suppose I’ll paint it in oil first: it’ll be a single steamed pau in one of those tim-sum vats, with a pair of bronze bells tied around it in a red silk ribbon. I think it will be lovely. Alternatively, I could just beg Cupido to do it for me, I could easily pay him in kind *laughs*.
Before I went for that mad 10 km jog last night, I had been thinking of all sorts of weird things to do after next week – My essay on the Dialogue between the Soul and Body went very well today, thank you very much- and I thought of embarking on a research project for a novel that just might be fun to write. I only need two additional willing parties, a chilled out female and many, many rich, pleasant looking males.
The concept behind the novel goes something like, two female kids with nothing better to do with their lives go on long-haul holiday trips with old(er) men they barely know. And it will be a fair number of men, however, they are never going to have sex.
Basically, the girls just want to have fun with each other, like each other, and want a never-ending honeymoon year, completely sponsored by bored, rich, uh… Tom Fords? (Of course if they were all sexy Tom Fords, I will gladly be possessed by each of them). Oh, and those bored rich guys get to have a lot of fun with two cool bi-sexual women.
I think something like that would be completely unbelievable if I pulled it out of my ass, so I thought I'd live it. And I think I shall. The only problem is, the only girl at this point in time I want to spend that much time with on a perpetual honeymoon with, doesn't seem too into it all.
The Princess is the only girl I know who has nothing against really old guys. The Girlfriend goes, thinks I’m just too much into guys who are old enough to be my dad, she goes ‘eee’ on that. Her majesty on the other hand, seems to think 10 years of an age gap is not enough.
We both love Tom Ford. And I’ve been persuading her to join me in my beach sex fantasy.
It was been a good day. My dad’s in
xoxox
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