To the BATMOBILE |
Monday, November 21, 2005
Oiled like a greek god of war, gleaming under candlelight like a prized trophy, I was slowly kneaded into submission by a masseur (I questioned his sexuality later on as his hands slipped further down my back and worked their way towards my unguarded buttocks). While he promised to "go easy", his attempts to seperate my every single (and "well-defined" - An adjective I never hesitate to throw in) muscle from their corresponding bone soon gave me reason to suspect otherwise. Siglap Centre has never before heard such pain-filled screams of terror before, not at 11.30 in the morning. Incapacitated by alcohol, 48 hours without sleep, and drugged by the overpowering stench of perfumed candles and herbal rubbish, I may have looked like a promising target to my would-be rapist. That was, until back flip into scissor kick a la Bruce Lee (and not Sammo Hung) connected with his jaw in a move I dubbed "Drunken Bull Counter Fox's Advances". Unfortunately enough, we exist in a world based on well-worked theories of physics and motion, where boys in puberty shouldn't go around partaking in superhero activities or pretending to be capable of gravity defying karate maneoveurs, and all I achieved was jiggle in a futile motion, further emphasising my buttock's increased vulnerablity. Emerging smelling of grapeseed oil, and perfume, muscles aching (and I suspect, torn beyond repair), violated, but still standing with virginity intact, I thus staggered home where I collapsed a weeping wreck on my bed. Or just collapsed on my bed in dead exhaustion. Even as we speak now, I don my cape, mask, black spandex and formfitting chestpiece, ready to leap out of my window into the endless night (and the 18 storeys of freefall below. Hang on - I'll take the lift). Take a hint from my steely resolve in my eyes, its payback time (minimum fine being the price of the massage plus surcharge for emotional damage)! TO THE BATMOBILE |
The Writer
highly confidential Martin Butler, or affectionally known to others as "Butler", "Butlerman", or just "Butt". -Most eligible bachelor of 2004-every year henceforth - step aside Mr.Clooney -Doesn't particularly enjoy much anymore having been desensitized as part of a cruel torturous regime a.k.a IB... -Dislikes everything he doesn't like... Nov 8th - Remember the date! MSN - butlerwantsu@hotmail.com (Add with caution) Archives
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a tense atmosphere of hot air, greasy stains and the endless grumbles of the engine - and that's only me |
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