Tuesday, January 10, 2006
You walk into the club, the speakers there blare a deceptive hypnotic rhythm. The people gyrate to the given beat, giving themselves willingly over to it's sway.
Some in a drunken "get down and boogie" haze. Others, seductive, cat-like, promising later pleasure with swishing hips and pouting lips.
Slender bodies, muscly bodies, voluptuous bodies, bodies that ooze over with youth, wasting this precious commodity on the dance floor. Bodies that just shouldn't be dancing without a license and police escorts.
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch what you suspect to be someone doing the "Chicken Flap".
All moving on the dance floor, all caught up in the moment.
"The moment", you think yourself, "One of this decade's most illusive lies to the impressionable misguided imagination".
The budding of existentialism in the 80s has come to full fruitation in the 21st century. The allurement of freedom coming only from being in the moment, devoid of rational consideration for the morrow. They must believe it, Hollywood said so. Freedom without responsibility is anarchy.
Moving to find your seat, you plant yourself down on cheap plastic chairs obviously not designed prolonged sitting. You look around at the walls (Black) and the pillars (mirrored) .
You can't help but wonder what this place look like without the pulsating strobe lights. You let your imagination take over, and it amazed you how different things would look like in the brightness of day; the unevenly painted walls, exposed pipes stretch across the ceiling, when the shiny surfaces of the night become and matted in daylight.
Garments that showed divine luminescent white under black lights now seen as they are; ugly gray.
You sit back in your seat enjoying your non-alcoholic (shameful even) watermelon juice. Forcefully forgetting the weird look the waiter gave you when you ordered it.
Your friends head for the dance floor, leaving you behind to wonder the attraction of a dance without form, partner or purpose. You also wonder why and how anyone could be so enthusiastic about such hedonistic behavior. For some reason the an old axiom crosses your mind: "Dancing is a vertical expression of a horizontal desire." You corelate it with your thought pattern and am both amused and disturbed by the results.
You idle away your time, watching the group performances on stage. You smile to yourself when a drunk woman gummi bear hops onto the stage, picking up the wig left by the last performer and putting it on.
Again when another obviously tipsy woman finds her way on stage where a group is performing, grabs hold of one of the male singers and proceeds to take his shirt off. You laugh for the first time in the club, as the singer valiantly wards off her repeated attempts.
The stage offers limited flavor. Different groups that sing the same badly rapped songs and a deejay that spews out (from a microphone with too much echo) what only he can assume is deejay talk which you suspect he just pick off and memorized from MTV.
With that you look around and notice Caucasian young things grouped in defensive clusters, no doubt waiting for the next over-weight middle aged business man to latch on to.
The deejay plays a nauseating song sung with chipmunk voices. Something intellectual about mock innocence and irony crosses your mind, but promptly gets siphoned off by the chorus. But you aren't surprised in fact you even expected this song to have that kind of an effect on you.
Another song with the chipmunk voice plays and you realize you've reached your limit.
You decide to head outside and start looking for a way out your head turns LEFT, RIGHT, then LEFT again. You suddenly realize that subconsciously while reading this post your head has just turned, left, right then left with the last sentence.
There. My first brush with the 2nd person and it would seem that I've survived... ... barely.
So yes as you would have guessed, last week i went to a club, 2 in fact, not that I've ever been to one in the past it's usually just been a beer garden or jazzy place.
The first time was on the last day of cohesion day. There was free entry to a local club; Koh Sum Mui.
Now something to note about the clubs here is that they have a nasty tendency to strip people.
What happens is this, a scantily dressed female of sorts enters the room, boogies and works the room. Then she singles out a male individual out onto a chair where she then proceeds to entice him into removing articles of his clothing save the main and in my opinion the most crucial piece.
The reverse can also happen to a female member of the audience. Only in this instance, the clothes aren't removed, it's handled by a muscled youth and the person is instead put into rather compromising positions. One particularly one comes to mind and it involves drinking from a strategically placed beer bottle.
Also in both clubs that I've been to, it seems that the male "performers" never seem to come on stage dressed as distinctively male. More often than not, they arrive dressed up as a school girls, or in one disturbing instance in an auntie nightie with an afro wig. I freely admit that in that last instance a certain body fluid was on the move in my body... ... Bile up my throat.
Also the Female performers double up as waitresses (with their clothes back on) when not performing, very cost effective.
In the case of having the female performers luring me or most of my friends on stage, I must thank my Indian friend S for the absence of such opportunity. Him being dark skinned, drew fire for many of us. What a brave soldier he is.
Also, you know how they say that you've never really known a person until you've seen him drunk? I find that some what true in the secular world. For instance that evening we celebrated the birthday of two individuals, let's just call them N and A.
N downed a number alcoholic poisons and before we left the restaurant he was already well beyond the tipsy mark. Which was nasty but good in a way. He provided much the entertainment for the evening. Which sounds bad of me but it really was quite amusing.
For instance he was deeply suspicious that we were trying to lead him away from Koh Sum Mui and kept pulling us in the opposite direction. He was also at that time in tears. In fact he had been in tears since we left the restaurant. Reason being he missed an old workmate of ours J who had already finished his tour and was now already back in the home land.
So we called up J on his phone and N let loose a barge of questions as to why he wasn't here, how he should come and meet him now, once he had set the time in which J should meet us, I would have to say he settled down abit. I can only imagine what J must have thought when he received this call, though I dare say he must have been flattered and amused to no end.
Now N being tipsy from the alcohol started having problems walking and as do all people who are on the verge of being drunk brazenly declared that he wasn't . So S tried to help with the walking by lifting him up on his shoulders and carrying him there, all the while with N chatting merrily in drunken grabble on the phone, long distance to J.
That wasn't the end of it of course. At Koh Sum Mui he downed even more drinks and proceeded to throw up on the floor, the stairs and in an unfortunate event himself and S.
What transpired was this, S was helping N in the toilet whilst N was "giving up the ghost". N I imagine, by way of wanting to address S turned to face him... the rest is *ahem* water under the bridge.
After the throwing up episode, we decided that the best course of action would be to bring him to the buses that would be taking us back to camp.
Reaching the set point we propped him up on a chair, where in after a few moments he proceeded to drape WB's (another friend whom we shall talk bout later) jacket over his head and nodded off.
If you remember A, this is where he makes his appearance about 40 mins later, hanging onto two other friends along with THE FIT medic of our camp ( I cannot stress fit enough though mel would give him a run for his money) hanging onto another two friends.
It was fortunate that one of the senior specs drove, because my imagination DOES stretch that far as to think of what might have gone wrong had they not been chauffeured home.
More mishaps happened back in camp. N was a good boy when he brushed his teeth and a bad one when he wanted to go bed forgetting to gargle the toothpaste away.
A threw up something green or blue ( I didn't want to venture a second look) onto the floor and wasn't really in a position to move back to his bed (upper deck) so we just merged two couches threw a blanket over him and left him be for the night.
That was Ken Ting on the last night of cohesion. Now about kao hsiung, after that fabulous dinner we went to club "Super Star". For the description of the experience scroll up.
Now after the clubbing there was a bunch that went back to base and another that stayed behind wondering where to spend the night.
I wondered where to spend the night. Wondering along with me was the MTO, N (now considerably more sober since this was the day after) and WB (he's the star of this portion). Basically, two options came up one being we stay at a hotel the other that we stay at a spa for the night.
I was naturally against the idea of staying at a spa mainly because I don't like sleeping in an area where there are no locks or doors even more so in a foreign land. So I was against the idea of sleeping exposed (in more ways than one) in the spa.
Me and N opted for the security of a hotel room, MTO and WB opted for the spa. Seeing both were in the same building and cost the same we decided to split up and meet in the morning.
In morning when we met up again it was obvious which was the better choice.
Me and N had a nice peaceful sleep on two separate queen sized beds. Not to mention i had a relaxing bubble bath. (They didn't even have seedy drawers with seedy contents and seedy TVs with seedy channels)
Versus the hotel, the Spa on the other hand had numerous facilities and services; a pool, massage girls, a theater that screened blue movies, a sleeping room and breakfast provided.
Of course thanks to murphy's law this is what transpired. They woke up late and missed breakfast, slept in the theater room for the night only to find out there was a sleeping room in the morning and something happened to WB (we'll leave that bit to Jonathan's Gems and your imagination).
After that we have breakfast, I had a butter Ramen ( I feel so naruto ish just saying that) with char siew and cold tofu with century egg (note tofu is really good that way). Did some shopping and went back at night.
I think that's a long enough for this post. So here's Jonathan's Gem for today:
When staying over night anywhere don't stay in a spa, there's no security in that. Use the spas more as a day time thing.
If you absolutely must stay in a Spa don't sleep in a theater that screens blue movies.
If you absolutely must stay in a Spa and sleep in a theater that screens blue movies, don't do so dressed only in bath robes.
It you absolutely must stay in a Spa AND sleep in a theater that screens blue movies dressed only in bath robes... ...
DON'T
unless you want to be fondled (in *ahem* exposed areas) by a stranger while you sleep
Then again if you DO...
That is all
Jon.P
Some in a drunken "get down and boogie" haze. Others, seductive, cat-like, promising later pleasure with swishing hips and pouting lips.
Slender bodies, muscly bodies, voluptuous bodies, bodies that ooze over with youth, wasting this precious commodity on the dance floor. Bodies that just shouldn't be dancing without a license and police escorts.
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch what you suspect to be someone doing the "Chicken Flap".
All moving on the dance floor, all caught up in the moment.
"The moment", you think yourself, "One of this decade's most illusive lies to the impressionable misguided imagination".
The budding of existentialism in the 80s has come to full fruitation in the 21st century. The allurement of freedom coming only from being in the moment, devoid of rational consideration for the morrow. They must believe it, Hollywood said so. Freedom without responsibility is anarchy.
Moving to find your seat, you plant yourself down on cheap plastic chairs obviously not designed prolonged sitting. You look around at the walls (Black) and the pillars (mirrored) .
You can't help but wonder what this place look like without the pulsating strobe lights. You let your imagination take over, and it amazed you how different things would look like in the brightness of day; the unevenly painted walls, exposed pipes stretch across the ceiling, when the shiny surfaces of the night become and matted in daylight.
Garments that showed divine luminescent white under black lights now seen as they are; ugly gray.
You sit back in your seat enjoying your non-alcoholic (shameful even) watermelon juice. Forcefully forgetting the weird look the waiter gave you when you ordered it.
Your friends head for the dance floor, leaving you behind to wonder the attraction of a dance without form, partner or purpose. You also wonder why and how anyone could be so enthusiastic about such hedonistic behavior. For some reason the an old axiom crosses your mind: "Dancing is a vertical expression of a horizontal desire." You corelate it with your thought pattern and am both amused and disturbed by the results.
You idle away your time, watching the group performances on stage. You smile to yourself when a drunk woman gummi bear hops onto the stage, picking up the wig left by the last performer and putting it on.
Again when another obviously tipsy woman finds her way on stage where a group is performing, grabs hold of one of the male singers and proceeds to take his shirt off. You laugh for the first time in the club, as the singer valiantly wards off her repeated attempts.
The stage offers limited flavor. Different groups that sing the same badly rapped songs and a deejay that spews out (from a microphone with too much echo) what only he can assume is deejay talk which you suspect he just pick off and memorized from MTV.
With that you look around and notice Caucasian young things grouped in defensive clusters, no doubt waiting for the next over-weight middle aged business man to latch on to.
The deejay plays a nauseating song sung with chipmunk voices. Something intellectual about mock innocence and irony crosses your mind, but promptly gets siphoned off by the chorus. But you aren't surprised in fact you even expected this song to have that kind of an effect on you.
Another song with the chipmunk voice plays and you realize you've reached your limit.
You decide to head outside and start looking for a way out your head turns LEFT, RIGHT, then LEFT again. You suddenly realize that subconsciously while reading this post your head has just turned, left, right then left with the last sentence.
There. My first brush with the 2nd person and it would seem that I've survived... ... barely.
So yes as you would have guessed, last week i went to a club, 2 in fact, not that I've ever been to one in the past it's usually just been a beer garden or jazzy place.
The first time was on the last day of cohesion day. There was free entry to a local club; Koh Sum Mui.
Now something to note about the clubs here is that they have a nasty tendency to strip people.
What happens is this, a scantily dressed female of sorts enters the room, boogies and works the room. Then she singles out a male individual out onto a chair where she then proceeds to entice him into removing articles of his clothing save the main and in my opinion the most crucial piece.
The reverse can also happen to a female member of the audience. Only in this instance, the clothes aren't removed, it's handled by a muscled youth and the person is instead put into rather compromising positions. One particularly one comes to mind and it involves drinking from a strategically placed beer bottle.
Also in both clubs that I've been to, it seems that the male "performers" never seem to come on stage dressed as distinctively male. More often than not, they arrive dressed up as a school girls, or in one disturbing instance in an auntie nightie with an afro wig. I freely admit that in that last instance a certain body fluid was on the move in my body... ... Bile up my throat.
Also the Female performers double up as waitresses (with their clothes back on) when not performing, very cost effective.
In the case of having the female performers luring me or most of my friends on stage, I must thank my Indian friend S for the absence of such opportunity. Him being dark skinned, drew fire for many of us. What a brave soldier he is.
Also, you know how they say that you've never really known a person until you've seen him drunk? I find that some what true in the secular world. For instance that evening we celebrated the birthday of two individuals, let's just call them N and A.
N downed a number alcoholic poisons and before we left the restaurant he was already well beyond the tipsy mark. Which was nasty but good in a way. He provided much the entertainment for the evening. Which sounds bad of me but it really was quite amusing.
For instance he was deeply suspicious that we were trying to lead him away from Koh Sum Mui and kept pulling us in the opposite direction. He was also at that time in tears. In fact he had been in tears since we left the restaurant. Reason being he missed an old workmate of ours J who had already finished his tour and was now already back in the home land.
So we called up J on his phone and N let loose a barge of questions as to why he wasn't here, how he should come and meet him now, once he had set the time in which J should meet us, I would have to say he settled down abit. I can only imagine what J must have thought when he received this call, though I dare say he must have been flattered and amused to no end.
Now N being tipsy from the alcohol started having problems walking and as do all people who are on the verge of being drunk brazenly declared that he wasn't . So S tried to help with the walking by lifting him up on his shoulders and carrying him there, all the while with N chatting merrily in drunken grabble on the phone, long distance to J.
That wasn't the end of it of course. At Koh Sum Mui he downed even more drinks and proceeded to throw up on the floor, the stairs and in an unfortunate event himself and S.
What transpired was this, S was helping N in the toilet whilst N was "giving up the ghost". N I imagine, by way of wanting to address S turned to face him... the rest is *ahem* water under the bridge.
After the throwing up episode, we decided that the best course of action would be to bring him to the buses that would be taking us back to camp.
Reaching the set point we propped him up on a chair, where in after a few moments he proceeded to drape WB's (another friend whom we shall talk bout later) jacket over his head and nodded off.
If you remember A, this is where he makes his appearance about 40 mins later, hanging onto two other friends along with THE FIT medic of our camp ( I cannot stress fit enough though mel would give him a run for his money) hanging onto another two friends.
It was fortunate that one of the senior specs drove, because my imagination DOES stretch that far as to think of what might have gone wrong had they not been chauffeured home.
More mishaps happened back in camp. N was a good boy when he brushed his teeth and a bad one when he wanted to go bed forgetting to gargle the toothpaste away.
A threw up something green or blue ( I didn't want to venture a second look) onto the floor and wasn't really in a position to move back to his bed (upper deck) so we just merged two couches threw a blanket over him and left him be for the night.
That was Ken Ting on the last night of cohesion. Now about kao hsiung, after that fabulous dinner we went to club "Super Star". For the description of the experience scroll up.
Now after the clubbing there was a bunch that went back to base and another that stayed behind wondering where to spend the night.
I wondered where to spend the night. Wondering along with me was the MTO, N (now considerably more sober since this was the day after) and WB (he's the star of this portion). Basically, two options came up one being we stay at a hotel the other that we stay at a spa for the night.
I was naturally against the idea of staying at a spa mainly because I don't like sleeping in an area where there are no locks or doors even more so in a foreign land. So I was against the idea of sleeping exposed (in more ways than one) in the spa.
Me and N opted for the security of a hotel room, MTO and WB opted for the spa. Seeing both were in the same building and cost the same we decided to split up and meet in the morning.
In morning when we met up again it was obvious which was the better choice.
Me and N had a nice peaceful sleep on two separate queen sized beds. Not to mention i had a relaxing bubble bath. (They didn't even have seedy drawers with seedy contents and seedy TVs with seedy channels)
Versus the hotel, the Spa on the other hand had numerous facilities and services; a pool, massage girls, a theater that screened blue movies, a sleeping room and breakfast provided.
Of course thanks to murphy's law this is what transpired. They woke up late and missed breakfast, slept in the theater room for the night only to find out there was a sleeping room in the morning and something happened to WB (we'll leave that bit to Jonathan's Gems and your imagination).
After that we have breakfast, I had a butter Ramen ( I feel so naruto ish just saying that) with char siew and cold tofu with century egg (note tofu is really good that way). Did some shopping and went back at night.
I think that's a long enough for this post. So here's Jonathan's Gem for today:
When staying over night anywhere don't stay in a spa, there's no security in that. Use the spas more as a day time thing.
If you absolutely must stay in a Spa don't sleep in a theater that screens blue movies.
If you absolutely must stay in a Spa and sleep in a theater that screens blue movies, don't do so dressed only in bath robes.
It you absolutely must stay in a Spa AND sleep in a theater that screens blue movies dressed only in bath robes... ...
DON'T
unless you want to be fondled (in *ahem* exposed areas) by a stranger while you sleep
Then again if you DO...
That is all
Jon.P
Comments:
Post a Comment
