Under house arrest, waiting for Mr. Postman this morning. Flopped an egg onto cheese toast. Everyone, meet Jack. Semi-hard & not too sharp. Wait till he realises his full potential in your oven. Eyes wide shut with a warm yolk, Jack’s a party in the mouth that everybody wants an invite to. And by the time you realise what’s happening, it’s too late. Suck it. Finish up. You check your face in the mirror. The bell rings. Perfect timing. You lick your lips clean so nobody knows what you’ve done.
My din din. Never lonely, abalone jamboree porridge. How about it?Abalone pre-soaked overnight in a secret herbal marinade: dang gui, goji, shao xing wine et al., with dried oysters brought back to life from bubbling half a day in a pot & fistfuls of scallops coaxed into silly strings. Picture snapped. Wacky caption done. Digging in!
Nothing like making breakfast & making it pretty too for someone you love. By that, I only mean I’m trying to love me, - even if no one will, - contemplating designs, manipulating strawberries on a plate & sprinkling on granules of sugar for crunch on top of a slather of maple syrup & the calm aftermath of a passing cloud of cinnamon dust. The secret is really to salt the beaten eggs a little - but not with tears! - so it never, never tastes saccharine & never so much it stops the heart. Some say butter later is better. But I think that’s too…obvious, it lacks finesse & the intrigue of the tongue.
The things that make up for getting woken up by the mailman at my door this morning. Freshly squeezed juice & this. Newsflash: So sex rules🙅? Or sex RULES! 🙋
Trying this new ♨ sauce (not so hot) over my aglio olio kimchi spaghetti with 🚀 & satisfying this new need I have to squeeze limes over everything.
WHALE PENIS. Kidding. Got your attention, didn’t I? It’s a fish snack. The label in the back says ‘Kawahagi’, or filefish. Maybe because it’s so flat. Ha. I found it at Cold Storage. I make it sexier by crisping it in the oven, squeezing a lime over it & dipping it in a wasabi-mayo-garlic powder mix. Because I’m always complicating things.
On to season 2 of #Hung & I’m hooked! #ThomasJane’s character is a damn fine specimen of a man. Not overly-evolved. Lots of apish charm with untamed tufts in all the right places & untouched by that emasculating thing called Fashion. (‘Metrosexual’ is a dirty word.) Love how they turn the desperate & despondent into lots of funny & sexy moments. I guess it’s true. There’s just something inexplicably funny about being down & out. What about the sense of empowerment versus the indignity of giving or receiving payment for sex? Have you heard? People who have been paid for sex at some point in their lives are most ready to pay for it. I think we all pay to play at the end of the day. Just not always in cash, don’t you think? #theworldsoldestoccupation
Times like now I wish I had somebody by my side. To take in the beauty of this city together. But more than anything. To take proper pictures of me. LOL #pgbicyclediaries (at Esplanade Riverside)
Allow me to congratulate myself for successfully replacing the cracked display on my iPad. iPad repairs today, brain surgery tomorrow! Heh.
Just taking time off from seeing you when you’re sleeping & knowing when you’re awake to tend to the beard & get it to a shade closer to that of the top of my head. And since we’re on the subject of the colour follicular, I should probably leave the trail dark & bold, right? Yeah. For how else can the lost boys find their way home? #dirtysantaPG#bleachyourbeardpreachyourweird