I chucked a hugh grant just now. This version of hugh grant is those 'in the middle of the movie' moments where he finds himself coming home from work all tired and worn out and all he can think of is boredom and loneliness. And he would go around mumbling to himself and grabbing his towel and showering with no time limit. The shower was great though. It feels good to be able to feel water rinse down your whole body after working for 13 hours straight. Also great to know that you are cleansing off the cigarette odor that you get from smoking like a retired author, who has no patience or motivation to sit down and write down stuffs, when he himself knows that this is actually the right time to write down stuffs. Yes, I smoked again only cos I need to. I'd go insane with all the customers' shit I get if I don't. (Yes, Sorry Aarti.. I will quit one day). Smoking Vogue reminds me of Akito, how he does it in style with his moisturized fingers wrapped around the thin cylindrical 'slender sized' menthol cigarettes as he closes his eyes whenever he blows smoke outta his mouth. Only that I do it in a very bizairre way which is not as classy or attractive as he does it. Ah, gay men!!! We have no fear of impotency... when smoking is concerned, we even make sure it's menthol in order to not smell like one of those ragged hair smoker smelling people who wanders around with yellow teeth and bad breath. One of those types sat next to me in the bus and it made me choke.
The world was coming to an end at work today. There was no fan in the kitchen and I have no idea how the chefs and dishwashers did it but whenever I take orders from them, I felt like I was in some crimination fiesta, only that we were in a box full of cutleries, pots and pans as opposed to a coffin full of velvetty decorred walls. Just as the customers were about to arrive. I like to call it the stampede. This is when inconsiderate souls march onto the area where we waiters wait in vain to serve just to get it over with while they love to sit down, sip on their 90 dollars champagne or just stain their favorite 'classy looking' last season marked down formal casual wear with some red wine and have a bit of a laugh or rant about it later in the night. Then, they would do the whole indecisive moment where they would pretend like they're quite picky on the menu. Stupid retards don't even know the menu was set and there were like only five different entrees and mains and simple extras full of chips, salad, seasonal vegetable or garlic bread. Now, why am I so talking them down? Well, the meal itself is thirty five dollars including coverage charge. Now, who's gonna act all Beckham posh when they're spending all this little thirty five dollars on food and of course some large amounts on alcohol, be it all Aussie as they all are. Amen to bartenders... so back to the stampede.. just as the stampede was about to begin, one of the lights from the ceiling broke down and dropped on one of the tables and smashed the wine glass. Call it fate and call it fucked up luck but it had to fall on the largest table we had to set... the 'ten people' table. Now, this caused a bit of a ruckus among us employees. We had a bit of a 'team work' between the bartender ladies, waiters and the managers, where all of us cleaned the shit outta that table since the bulls and bullettes were waiting outside, ranting their asses off for this late entry acceptance, some pretending to be hungry and some just pretending to be angry... just cos they can....
Speaking of people who works there.. there were four types of people in that restaurant. We got the poofters waiters.. all waiters were gay and we serve food. The bartender or the drink waitress as I would address them were all ladies, so beautiful you start thinking why they haven't either audition for porn or just go on 'Aussie's next top model'. Then, we got the bar guys who normally stands behind the bar, most of them look a bit of a mixture between aussie-bred hottie faced and cheeky backpackers smiles, who are all straight and kinda.. ummm. uninteresting but they're pretty cool. And we got the kitchen peeps, who remind me of my homeland peeps since they were all relaxed and they talk shit most of the times. They call me number one and they would giggle with some injokes and would call names to each other and point at us waiters or just tease us around. Ah welll... the whole 'happy' atmosphere in the making amidst the sahara oven heat and bad food smell in our hair.
Speaking of waitresses, I've been a bit of a pinchee there. Chefs pinch my cheeks.. now how gay is that.. but I love that attention. and the barladies either pinch my ass or slap it. Yes, ladies just cos you know I won't try anything to mount on your fish tacos does not mean you can use a gay guy as this object of pinch or slap. But me being me, I love the attention and I flirt all the way.... well, it doesn't hurt being lovely, does it? Plus, straight guys can be jealous of me now that I got the ladies pinching my ass and sharing food and drinks behind the bar after our stampede moments.
On another note, all of the gay guys who work there except for me and Richard, HAVE BOYFRIENDS!!!! I don't mean to sound arrogant but as cute as they can be and as attractive as they can be, I'm pretty sure I do qualify as a mediocre good looking specimen. But not having a partner makes me feel stupid and useless when they themselves are dealing with their lives of being tired at work and walking into the arms of their boyfriends every night. Richard, on the other hand, is a fitness first trainer, which in my opinion is no threat to getting boys, whereas I've been pretty slack with gym and the thought of food into my guts and fizzy drinks' sugar absorbing into my stomach walls made me kinda shiver a bit. And that was the thought I had as I was gulping down this huge ass chicken schnitzel with fries with three glasses of coke. I love having coke there. It's one of those fuel users.. in Asia, we call them the butt washers. We use them in toilets to spray water into our asses after we poo. Here, they use it to pour drinks into glasses. There I was, like an immature nine year old playing with his first GI Joe toy figure, with my glass and the butt washer as I kept pressing buttons to mix drinks around. Try coke and water.. it tastes stupid but I loved pressing the buttwasher.. lol
Speaking of butts, I got the best compliment from one of my fuckbuddies ever. Yes, I was horny and I had a root and thanx to TFB, my horny pods were fulfilled and re-energized. To boost my ego, he complimented me after sex with such an adorable comment. He went 'You have a clean ass'.... yes, thank you... to be honest, I felt quite rich.. A buttock is a sewage pipe or a plumbing hole of our body and if I managed to get a compliment about it from someone who uses it while exposing pleasure as a clean object, I shall say I am indeed a good clean gay man. And to be honest, I'm quite precious when it comes to the 'down area'. I like it when my private parts smell like Christian Dior... not that it was made to make genitals smell heavenly...
I'm tired and wrecked as a fuck but I kinda notice I write a lot when I'm in this mode.... ah well, back to being Hugh Grant now as I opened my online monopoly page on my mozilla browser and tend to spend my insomniatic hours pretending I own Beijing and Hong Kong and building hotels with some pathetic people like me from around the world who sits on their asses doing pretty much the same thing......
Life... gotta love it!!
The world was coming to an end at work today. There was no fan in the kitchen and I have no idea how the chefs and dishwashers did it but whenever I take orders from them, I felt like I was in some crimination fiesta, only that we were in a box full of cutleries, pots and pans as opposed to a coffin full of velvetty decorred walls. Just as the customers were about to arrive. I like to call it the stampede. This is when inconsiderate souls march onto the area where we waiters wait in vain to serve just to get it over with while they love to sit down, sip on their 90 dollars champagne or just stain their favorite 'classy looking' last season marked down formal casual wear with some red wine and have a bit of a laugh or rant about it later in the night. Then, they would do the whole indecisive moment where they would pretend like they're quite picky on the menu. Stupid retards don't even know the menu was set and there were like only five different entrees and mains and simple extras full of chips, salad, seasonal vegetable or garlic bread. Now, why am I so talking them down? Well, the meal itself is thirty five dollars including coverage charge. Now, who's gonna act all Beckham posh when they're spending all this little thirty five dollars on food and of course some large amounts on alcohol, be it all Aussie as they all are. Amen to bartenders... so back to the stampede.. just as the stampede was about to begin, one of the lights from the ceiling broke down and dropped on one of the tables and smashed the wine glass. Call it fate and call it fucked up luck but it had to fall on the largest table we had to set... the 'ten people' table. Now, this caused a bit of a ruckus among us employees. We had a bit of a 'team work' between the bartender ladies, waiters and the managers, where all of us cleaned the shit outta that table since the bulls and bullettes were waiting outside, ranting their asses off for this late entry acceptance, some pretending to be hungry and some just pretending to be angry... just cos they can....
Speaking of people who works there.. there were four types of people in that restaurant. We got the poofters waiters.. all waiters were gay and we serve food. The bartender or the drink waitress as I would address them were all ladies, so beautiful you start thinking why they haven't either audition for porn or just go on 'Aussie's next top model'. Then, we got the bar guys who normally stands behind the bar, most of them look a bit of a mixture between aussie-bred hottie faced and cheeky backpackers smiles, who are all straight and kinda.. ummm. uninteresting but they're pretty cool. And we got the kitchen peeps, who remind me of my homeland peeps since they were all relaxed and they talk shit most of the times. They call me number one and they would giggle with some injokes and would call names to each other and point at us waiters or just tease us around. Ah welll... the whole 'happy' atmosphere in the making amidst the sahara oven heat and bad food smell in our hair.
Speaking of waitresses, I've been a bit of a pinchee there. Chefs pinch my cheeks.. now how gay is that.. but I love that attention. and the barladies either pinch my ass or slap it. Yes, ladies just cos you know I won't try anything to mount on your fish tacos does not mean you can use a gay guy as this object of pinch or slap. But me being me, I love the attention and I flirt all the way.... well, it doesn't hurt being lovely, does it? Plus, straight guys can be jealous of me now that I got the ladies pinching my ass and sharing food and drinks behind the bar after our stampede moments.
On another note, all of the gay guys who work there except for me and Richard, HAVE BOYFRIENDS!!!! I don't mean to sound arrogant but as cute as they can be and as attractive as they can be, I'm pretty sure I do qualify as a mediocre good looking specimen. But not having a partner makes me feel stupid and useless when they themselves are dealing with their lives of being tired at work and walking into the arms of their boyfriends every night. Richard, on the other hand, is a fitness first trainer, which in my opinion is no threat to getting boys, whereas I've been pretty slack with gym and the thought of food into my guts and fizzy drinks' sugar absorbing into my stomach walls made me kinda shiver a bit. And that was the thought I had as I was gulping down this huge ass chicken schnitzel with fries with three glasses of coke. I love having coke there. It's one of those fuel users.. in Asia, we call them the butt washers. We use them in toilets to spray water into our asses after we poo. Here, they use it to pour drinks into glasses. There I was, like an immature nine year old playing with his first GI Joe toy figure, with my glass and the butt washer as I kept pressing buttons to mix drinks around. Try coke and water.. it tastes stupid but I loved pressing the buttwasher.. lol
Speaking of butts, I got the best compliment from one of my fuckbuddies ever. Yes, I was horny and I had a root and thanx to TFB, my horny pods were fulfilled and re-energized. To boost my ego, he complimented me after sex with such an adorable comment. He went 'You have a clean ass'.... yes, thank you... to be honest, I felt quite rich.. A buttock is a sewage pipe or a plumbing hole of our body and if I managed to get a compliment about it from someone who uses it while exposing pleasure as a clean object, I shall say I am indeed a good clean gay man. And to be honest, I'm quite precious when it comes to the 'down area'. I like it when my private parts smell like Christian Dior... not that it was made to make genitals smell heavenly...
I'm tired and wrecked as a fuck but I kinda notice I write a lot when I'm in this mode.... ah well, back to being Hugh Grant now as I opened my online monopoly page on my mozilla browser and tend to spend my insomniatic hours pretending I own Beijing and Hong Kong and building hotels with some pathetic people like me from around the world who sits on their asses doing pretty much the same thing......
Life... gotta love it!!
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