Kejar ptp

April Fool

The court jester with his puppet
- or should that be the other way round?

Here's a couple of corkers - but are they true or not ?

The Care Quality Commission has been given the powers to fine Trusts if their hospitals and services are not up to scratch. So, basically then, we are going to have to employ extra people to improve services, employ extra people to monitor performance and produce yet more meaningless statistics so that if the targets are missed, the Government can fine itself.
All of you people who took advantage of the scappage scheme now know where the funding is coming from - the new showroom tax brought in today.

And here's one for next year's list : The showroom tax will only last for one year! Yeah, right...

"...and Brutus is an honourable man..."

Let's face it Gordon, with Tony out rooting for you how could you fail?

Even the Germans hate Gordon...

Here's a brilliant video from a chap called Herrkamel in Germany that only got 67 views on YouTube. I reckon it's worth a hell of a lot more than that, so see what you think!

Credit where it's due - who says Germans have no sense of humour?

So I chickened out of the meeting with the Lian from the escort agency... the fact that she said they cater to locals was pretty alarming.

This morning, I was greeted by another email from Lady P, the lady from the first agency that contacted me. Boy, is she persistent! So I'm meeting her this evening... quite nervous. Strange thing when I visited their website, it looks a lil like my blog.. hahah.. with S'pore night skyline as the background. Fated?... I dunno. Let hope I dun get cold-feet and chicken out again :P

I looked up on the company and also found their ad on a personals classifieds...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi there,

We are an Escort company reruiting girls at the moment. We are looking for girls between the ages of 18 to 35 years of age. Looks are not a big matter to us but you must be voluptous looking girl. Not too skinny or too short.

We pay you a minimum sum if you fall within our requirement and is hired. We accomodate you with housing and accessories and transportation.

Call/sms me at xxxx-xxxx and we chat further.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This morning on my way to the office, my phone was still chiming off its hooks. Managed to clinch a date with this South African fella. 1.79m, blonde, blue eyes... he said. Once the deal was set, I asked his aged and was knocked off my ass....

18?!!!!

Is that the legal age already? I really dun wanna be screwing a minor *bites nails*

xoxo

What future ?

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Read more >>

Your very own Labour pledge card

Cut this out and show it to your Labour candidate when he knocks on your door...

Bad English

You know how one of my top pet peeves is 'bad english'. I don't mean to be so fussy and picky about it but I insist that it reflects the kind of person you are and clearly, your level of intellect. It is how I separate the potential educated, fuck-worthy ang-mohs from the social retards, and spare myself the misery later.

In the fourth wave of sms-responses to my online personal ad, below are the sms-es that have made it to my Hall-of-Shame. Instead of paying to get laid, they should better consider language classes instead. For your entertainment... enjoy!

Money, Money, Money

I can be a real snob if I want, whenever I want to.

Especially when it comes to screening potential clients. After a while, I've developed this talent for rounding up a guy just from the way he sms-es. From the way he choose his words, I can decide whether he's even worth texting.

I guess I've made this clear since Day 1 that I'm not doing this for the money. Simply recreational (but later decided that it pays t0o, so why not). That's why I can afford to be all snooty about it, pick and choose the lucky men who gets to shower their moolahs on me.

[Oh oh... phone call. It's the girl from the escort agency. t.b.c...]

Will tell you about that phonecall later.

As I was saying... Yes, ever heard about 'Pricing Strategy'? It's a marketing term and it is the reason why I've capped my charges to $150/hr. The cheapest girl on a social escort site that I've seen is $200, even that she'll have to split with agency for commission, while a street-hooker along Geylang is easily $40 a pop.

My personal ads would also clearly state one thing: Expats only.

Definition of expat: ex·pa·tri·ate (ěk-spā'trē-āt') - someone who lives temporarily or permanently in a country/cultural group other than the one he originally comes from.

MY definition of expat: rich angmoh (who's overpaid with an obscene amount of money that he doesnt know what to do with it)

At times, I do bend the rules a little. You gotta be either rich or angmoh. But still $150/hr.

I've fixed myself to that amount because it is targetted at men who can truly afford it. Not for men who have to scrimp and save to afford it. Locals will never pay that kind of price cos if they are that horny, they would know better where to get the cheap ones. So far I've only done one local guy; a newbie, so let that be an experience for him.

For me, it's either you can afford it or you don't. Some cheapskate ones would even try to bargain and haggle the price, making me feel like some fish at the pasar... It is a major turn-off. Usually when that happens, I'll just cut them loose and move on to the next one.

If you can truly afford it, you won't feel the pinch when you have to part with your money. Tonight's case scenario was totally the opposite. Another one of my misadventures that'll go deep in my escorting journal.

My client turned out to be a bleak, twiggy, mini-sized 26 y.o Indonesian fella. I dun have any problems with Indonesians. Really. I love Indonesians. The ones with thick wallets.

Firstly, my boy was late and he made me wait under his block for about half-an-hour. I waited till my mousse-up hair went flat. Apparently he is on his way home from work.

Secondly, he told me to take the lift up to the 12th floor, just to see him suspiciously hiding at the staircase. When I found him, he whispered that his flatmate hasn't left the house and that we would have to wait a while more. What made me flare up was when he suggested that I give him a blowjob on the staircase first while waiting for his flatemate to leave the house. What am I? 16? Make out at the staircase, you've got to be kiddin me!!!

When he saw that I was upset, he took out his wallet and showed the $150 that he has for me. That almost blurred my judgement for a while, until he said he'd give me a $20 deposit for a blowjob and pay the rest once the hour is done. WTF!!!!????

I was so furious that I just stormed away. We had already discussed this via sms that I need my payment upfront before we proceed. And to think that he's being very difficult with parting with his money, just shows that he actually can't afford it and the risk of him not paying in full at the end of the service was evident. So this time, I decided to listen to my guts and leave.

As I waited for the lift, he still had the cheek to say - "Pls dun leave, I really want to touch your breasts."

The lift door opened and before I stepped in I said to him," U dun want to pay yet you still want to touch?" I gave him one last glare and left.

I was cursing and swearing at the boy for wasting my time. But I wasn't like really fuming mad, but somehow felt a lil sad for him. He's probably working as a waiter, somewhere, yet still want to spend that hard-earned money on prostitutes? I thought I'm the only one with the whacked sense of judgement.

After tonight's episode, I am nothing but more focused on getting my desired target audience. Expats - rich angmohs. And I shan't settle for any less. One thing I've learnt from experience is that the ang-moh are definitely more gentlemen and they never, never haggle. Plus, they have all that money and that's where I've got my eyes on. I don't want the local's (MY definition of local: working class Singaporean/ Malaysian/ Indonesian) money. Their money is hard-earned and shouldn't be spent like that. Sorry locals, your money is not valid with me.

Another community service brought to you by the Ministry of Sex (and) Affairs.

xoxo.

p/s: Meeting the girl from the agency tomorrow at 2pm. Spoke to her over the phone and not surprisingly she sounds very lian, and speaks fluent singlish. If the discussion goes well tomorrow, I might. Just might... sign up as a freelance escort with her agency.

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Fourth Ad Post

Was contacted by another escort agency just now. I hesitated a while before I replied to her sms. Checked out their website and all...before I knew it I've scheduled to meet her tmw for lunch.

Pretty excited about it. Though I hv to make sure that this is 'die-die' discreet. I dun want them to post my pics all over the web or something.

Anyway, I've posted another personal ad online and have clinched a 'date' for tonight. Lucky for me, it's pretty near my place... so I get to save on transport. Heh.

xoxo.

His 5 Secret Sexual Hot Spots

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Gordon sings "I've got no Friends"

Sing along to Gordon Brown's new song, a reworking of that great James Taylor classic "You've got a friend" ....

+++++ STOP PRESS +++++
I HAVE A VIDEO OF GORDON HIMSELF PLAYING THIS!
RELEASE DATE : 2nd APRIL
DON'T MISS IT !

When you're broke and jobless

And you're living on the dole
And you think you might be
Sleeping out on the street
Close your eyes and think of me
And curse my name out loud
It's no good knocking upon my door

Chorus 1:
You just call out my name
But you know wherever I am
I'm not listening
I simply don't care
Winter, spring , summer or fall
You say that I'm no use at all
You all hate me and I know
I've got no friends

When the people 'round me
Turn dark and want my job
And my friends all tell me
It's time to go
I dig my heels in harder
And barricade the doors
It's no use you picketing number ten

Chorus 2:
I know my time has come
But there's no way I will be going
I am stubborn
And really quite dumb
You know I'll hang on to the end
There's no way that you'll get me to bend
I'm the best man for the job
I'm Gordon Brown

Bridge:
Ain't it sad to know
That I've got no friends
People can be so cold
They hurt you and desert you
They'll take my job if I let them
Oh, but, I won't let them

Chorus 3:
You will never get me out
No matter how much you yell or you shout
I'm not going
I'm hanging on in
Milliband, Mandy and co
I know you all want me to go
But I'll take you all down with me
'Cos you're not my friends

Coda:
I'm hanging on 'til the end
I've got no friends

(Not so) Rocksteady

Its the 'nobody-loves-me' time of the month again. I'm down with the blues and I can just feel that this emotional roller coaster is not healthy. Is it PMS. Again? So soon?

I'm suspecting it could be mild depression or something. Last time I felt this way, I walked into a wall, leaving a scar to prove it. And just now, I sorta spaced out while on the escalator down at the train station without realizing that my flair-pants had gotten stuck inbetween the steps. When I reached the bottom of the escalator and walked away, I felt the pull at my pants and saw what had happened.

One thing I realized whenever I'm caught in these situations is that - firstly, I don't panic or get alarmed. So I tugged at my pants, trying to 'unhook' it from the escalator steps, with a blank expression. Ok, perhaps I just looked rather pissed.

Second thing I noticed - is that blank expression.

And thirdly, this is the one that got me thinking - I never, ever, cry out for help.

As I continued to pull hard at the bottom of my pants that was stuck, I also had to stand against the current of people who were coming down the escalator. Yet, not the littlest voice came out from me. I realised that I had almost gathered a pool of onlookers behind me. The kind who don't know whether they should go help, or go get help for me.

I was just worried that my entire pants could get ripped out. Thankfully, my cotton pants almost quickly gave way and tore at its end, releasing it from the escalator steps. As I turned to walk away, the few stand-byers anticipated for some sorta response, but I simply walked away, like nothing happened.

As I tapped myself out of the train station, spotting a grungily tattered pair of pants, my mom's voice ringed in my head.

"Why didn't you cry out for help?", as she listened to me rattle about my walk-into-wall incident.

That's when I too questioned myself... Have I forgotten how to ask for help?

Perhaps, I don't know how to ask for help, not used to asking for help because all this while I've always had to be the strong, independent one. I needed to be the rock solid one who can handle everything.

Right now I'm feeling like I need help. I just don't have anyone to ask...

xoxo