Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Porno King Part Deux

This is a follow-up to the Porno King post. I had originally posted this follow-up on Dec 09, 2004. Both were archived for some odd reason, so I am reposting.

It seems that I have somehow failed to write a follow-up to my photo shoot for the Spa as mentioned in the Porno King post. It actually took place sometime ago in early summer 2004, but for one reason or the other (i.e. embarrassment) I failed to document. I had been feeling under the weather and went out to the local pharmacy to get some Tylenol when I bumped into the owner of the Spa. We struck up a conversation and he started to apologise that he had gone ahead and completed the print ad campaign for the Spa, but was now interested in having me do a Web-based commercial for the Spa.

My head was a bit foggy, and I wasn't quite sure what he meant, but my imagination took wind. Like fat sugarplums stomping in my head, a plethora of images popped into my noggin with ideas of what the ad would look like. Me standing there with some sexy older man. The Spa's name emblazoned overhead in some shower scene. Both of us buck naked soaping and showering. It would go something like this.

Me: "Daddy, I'm not quite sure why, but some days I just don't feel so fresh"
Daddy (picking up an enema kit): "Well son, come on over here and we'll get you all squeaky clean!"
Me: "Oh daddy! I love you so!"

I was woken from my stupor, and he told me to drop by on the shoot date if I was still interested. Could you imagine my 15 seconds of fame?

So I go to the Spa early the morning of, and meet the rest of the actors/models. We watch as a production crew sets up lighting, cameras and props (no enemas or masengill, thank you). I am still a bit hesitant and wary, but I sign the disclosure forms and sign my life away. The shoot ran from 9am till 3pm and was quite a production and involved a shower scene, jacuzzi scene and a lounge scene where I am hanging around watching others play pool in my monagramed bath towel (well, not quite). I didn't realise that it would be such a big production. There were tonnes of crew and camera men, plus all the actors/models and a gawking crowd of older men, all of whom followed us around like unwanted groupies. It was all a little surreal, but I must admit I am quite proud of myself for having done it.

I had the honour of seeing the commercial recently and it is surprisingly tasteful. I'm not sure if that is the right word to use, but there were no cheesey, wonky porn 70's music, and no gratuitous shots. You see quite a bit of my arse and a shadowed profile of my face, but one can't really tell who I am, unless they know me (hmmm...
I had mind as well stop the smart ass comments now!).

Anyhow, the 90 second web commercial isn't quite on the website as yet, but I will be sure to mention it if it does. No visuals or links thank you.

Monday, August 29, 2005

Porno King

(This is a re-post from April 2004, as it was lost in my archives, and recently dug up. I will be back to my regular syndication in a day or so.)

Life seems to get more and more bizarre as I go through it.

I recently was sitting at a bar enjoying a beer, minding my own business and reading a recent article in Fab Magazine. There was this French guy sitting next to me who was working on his laptop. I couldn't help but look over at what he was scrolling through - literally hundreds of photos of naked guys and websites.
I left to take a leak and when I came back, the guy turns to me and says he was just chatting about me with his business partner. I asked what they were chatting about, and he tells me that he is a website and porn producer, and that his friend is a Toronto Spa owner. They wanted me to consider the possibility of going to Montreal to film a porn and to be the "poster child" for the Spa - needless to say I was in a bit of a shock. Not exactly bar conversation, or the first thing you expect someone to ask you.

Mind you, I was flattered beyond belief, but had no idea what to do or say. He proceeded to show me his work and sites that he promotes, and tells me he wants me to represent an untapped and open market in representing Asians in the community.

The first image that crossed my mind was some gratuitous portrayal of my face and naked body splayed across a box with the title "Kung-Pao Chicken" or "Riding the Orient Express" emblazoned in a red Chinese style font.

The second image was that the box would be on some window of a Yonge Street porn shop.

The third image was my mom passing out on Yonge Street in front of the said porn shop.

My friends have been split on this issue. Some say no and others say yes. One wants to be my manager so that he can get a cut out of it.... I have such caring wonderful supportive friends.

Anyhow, its been an interesting experience and I'll let you all know what my decision is. Better yet, just keep your eye out for me on your nearest porn shop shelf.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Rib Breakers Birthday Week Weekend

I finally decided to break away from work for a few days and took last Thursday and Friday off to spend with Rib Breaker as it was his birthday on Friday. It's quite hard to leave your work, especially when you have a Blackberry tied to your side. It's no wonder that they call it a Crackberry these days.

Rib Breaker, myself and My So Called Gay Life, went to Canada's Wonderland (Thursday) to have a festive day riding rollercoasters and other rides. We had a great time and thoroughly enjoyed our day, despite the raucous crowds of kids, tweens and teens. There was one point while waiting an hour for a ride that a group of 3 girls were gossiping next to us. This was their conversation:

Girl Friend 1: "Oh my god, I totally can't believe that asshole would do that to me. I mean, like whats wrong with him? Men are total pigs!"
Girl Friend 2: "Well, I totally like heard that he totally was dating this other girl, who was like a friend of another friend"
Girl Friend 3: "Yeah, whats up with that? Men are total assholes"

I had half turned to respond, thinking they were my Joy Luck Club bitches, but realised they were 16 year old teen girls. Makes one wonder doesn't it? 16 year old girls and 30ish year old gay men having the same damned discussion. Rather disturbing and unsettling.

Upon my return home, we found that the bedroom had been flooded by a unit on the 15th floor. Apparently, the toilet tank had broken flooding 5 units below it. The damage was moderate, but the clean up was a bitch.
I've taken pictures and will be putting in a claim to have the walls and carpet repaired. I may just get my new floors that I have always wanted!

Friday was a rather busy day, as I had been planning a surprise birthday party for Rib Breaker. This party had already been 2 weeks in the planning, so everything had been organised for 8:45 that evening. I had told Rib Breaker that my parents were dropping by for dinner at 7pm, so he would have to leave during that time (something he was none too happy about) and I arranged with his friend to take him out for drinks. It was all part of my plan to decieve, and since RB was off that day, I took him to Kensington Market to help me do some grocery shopping. Another ruse to throw him off. Anyhow, the food and party turned out great and RB was more than surprised, and later asked if I had actually had dinner with my parents. He's pretty, but none too bright. And yes, I finally will post pictures of the boy.

Rib Breaker's Surprise Birthday Cake

Rib Breaker's Surprise Birthday

The rest of the weekend was relaxed and RB left with a friend to Gananoque Ontario, near the 1000 Islands, to drive his friends' families' 54 foot yacht down to Toronto. He is having a ball of a time, and I know that because he called me Monday morning while at work to tell me he was lying on the deck with a drink in his hand soaking up the sun. That no good son of a ....

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Alternate Reality Television Shows

With the proliferation of reality TV shows, my boss and I came up with these alternative reality shows about a year ago. I am sure some have become a reality by now.

The Funeral: Contestants compete for an all expense paid funeral for recently dead Granny. The Funeral is complete with live Gospel singers, flowers and limo ride for the deceased and family. Twist: Granny didn't actually die.

The Orphan: A collection of orphans are competing for prospective parents. Twist: The parents are revealed to be a transvestite and his lover.

The Transplant: 4 contestants are competing for 1 available/compatible lung from a recently deceased motorcycle accident. Twist: The winning contestant must give up a Kidney in order to get the lung.

The Vegetarian: Contestants compete for the right to save a truck full of animals destined for the slaughter house. Each contestant will choose in advance which animals they want to save – Pigs, Cows, and Chickens. Twist: The winner will pick from the selection of losers who will have to witness the slaughter of their chosen animal and are required to ware a garment made from the skins of the dead animals..

The Patient: Contestants are signed up by family members. They are told they have a fatal disease which gets seemingly progressively worse or better as the season progresses. The audience votes for whom should get better each week. Twist: All of the contestants are told they are not really sick except for ONE who actually is fatally ill and wins a trip to Florida.

Homeless: Vagrant homeless people are contestants on a show which force them to compete for a job, shelter and medication. Twist: The winner is subsequently fired for no reason and evicted.

Slum Lord: Contestants are required to stay in a dilapidated apartment where they are competing for the right to stay in a luxury unit until the next challenge. Rats, cockroaches and other infestations are rampant in this venue infecting food supplies.

The Prostitute: Contestants vie to be released by their PIMPS. Audience votes for who should go back to the street. Challenge games for rewards include: Spot the STD, Scavenger hunt for Antibiotics and Pin the Drugs on the Pimp.

The Crack Addict: Contestants pulled off skid row to go through a 6 month heroin Detox. The winner gets 6 months free supply of Grade “A” crack and a discount at Goodwill.

The Office: Contestants are hired for a new online company, in the hopes that they will win a coveted VP position. Twist: the company is fake and their jobs aren’t real. Contestants are put through extreme stress related work conditions including amphetamines being put in coffee. The winner wins a trip to Florida.

The Hole: Contestants compete in a series of sex games where they are blind folded and handcuffed and made to have sex with each other. The Twist: Some contestants are swapped with animals…Who is the imposter? Who is the Hole? The winner who guesses the human wins antibiotics and the animal butchered and cleaned.

The Griller: Contestants vie to be the BEST Griller in the Country. Week after week they prepare and grill prime cuts of meat until the winner is crowned by the audience. Twist: The grilling meat is Human and is only revealed at the very end.

The Refuge: Contestants are refugees from countries accused of political and human rights violations. Winners get landed immigrant papers and free ESL classes. The Twist: They must traffic cocaine and raw heroin from their countries into ours without getting caught.

The Immigrant: Contestants vie for the right to immigrate to a foreign country. Winner will be selected by national vote. Twist: The country is Afghanistan and the winner is sent there with a one way ticket.

The Union: Contestants vie for the right to move away from their blue collar jobs and move into management. Twist: After the winner is selected the plant is closed and everyone is laid off.

The Priest: Contestants vie for the right to enter the seminary and become a priest. Challenges include: Spot the Breast, Tickle the Twink, Wiggle my Willy. Twist: All the contestants are arrested for Child Molestation and put on trial.

The Inmate: Male contestants have been falsely accused with a child sex felony and are vying to get a “get out of jail” pass by undergoing a series of tests, trials and tribulations. They will live in a penitentiary, where they will share a cell with another inmate. The Twist: they are each roomed with a real sex offender and are slipped 2 Viagra’s each night with their meals. (Soap in showers comes from a dispenser attached to floor).

Macho Man: Contestants think they are on a game show picking the Macho-est man in America. Challenges are to demonstrate Man-ly activities. Twist: Unbeknownst to them, the contestants are fed daily doses of female hormones. Audience watches as breasts develop, facial hair becomes thinner and men all begin to develop hips.

The Widow: Contestants are vying for the title of best couple in America. Twist: The winner is told that her mate has been in a car accident while coming to the final taping of the show.

The Tech: People are filmed calling their IT departments because of some computer problem. Contestants are the IT department and as such put them through several steps to determine the actual IT problem. The winner is the Tech who can get their user to delete the entire hard drive in the shortest amount of time.

The Coroner: Contestants are vying to be the technical consultant to CSI, the TV show. They are called upon to perform various coroner investigative duties one of which is an autopsy. Twist: The person they are performing the duties on are a recently deceased family member.

The Home: 10 poor & elderly contestants must compete in a series of competitions to see who will leave their families and receive a luxury retirement package. The Twist: They are actually put into a Montreal Nursing Home.

Friday, August 12, 2005

Childhood Lessons

My mum and dad were those typical Chinese parents that believed their kids needed to be perfect and excel in everything. To reach this lofty goal they enlisted us in piano, swimming and various other things, including Mandarin Chinese classes on Saturday mornings.

This of course was the cruelest thing you could do to a kid.

A Saturday was meant to be spent playing and enjoying life. Instead we were sent to a public school full of Westernized Chinese Canadian kids who according to their parents were pathetic ambassadors to our country and language. We were there to learn our heritage and language, but like the rest of the kids, I was daydreaming of cartoons, cereal and my bike.

In our family, if we weren't in Chinese school, we were woken early on Saturday morning to start cleaning. It was another obsessive compulsive ritual my mother had, that is still ingrained in me now. We would get up, eat, then start to vacuum, mop, clean the bathrooms, dust, polish the wood, then polish the silver, cut the grass, and any other chore that my parents thought they could torture us with.

We hated every minute of it, and whenever we told them that the other kids never had to do things like this, they would say, "You want to be like them? All dirty and living in dusty mouldy houses? Then go!"

Of course we wouldn't. It was a trick of theirs.

If we turned our backs and tried to walk out of the door, they would say " Fine, I guess you do not care how hard your mother and father work to put food on the table. All we wanted was a little help, but instead our children want to leave and play and make us do all the work".

It was like living with Jewish guilt. We were household slaves with benefits, and my parents were the warlords who ruled this little kingdom with an guilt trips.

As I got older, I began to delve into my inner deviousness. I would dread the idea of having to go to Chinese classes on Saturdays, so I found out where the electrical panel was and in the middle of the night, when everyone was asleep, I would tiptoe across the house, open the panel and switch off the main power supply, wait a few minutes, then turn it back on. This of course would screw up all the digital alarm clocks in the house. If that didn't work, I would sneak into my parents room and change their alarm to go off at 11:00am instead of 7:30am.

The plan worked. I thought I was being brilliant, until they decided to stick a battery in the alarm clock as a backup power supply.
I obviously got this trickery gene from them and soon realised that my deviousness and intelligence was no match for theirs.

When we were stuck at home to clean, I would sometimes turn the vaccum on and leave it there. I would then drag my feet along the carpet creating the illusion that our Filter Queen had cleaned that room or hallway. It worked for a while, but mum caught on when she noticed my hair was sticking up on end from the static. She'd walk up behind me and touch me, giving me a shock that would run down my spine and out my anus. And as punishment, she gave me the extra duty of laundry and cleaning out the cupboards. I learned my lesson stopped cutting corners, and soon began to take pride in the gleaming floors and the satisfying vacuum patterns on the carpet.

I was becoming a good tidy child. I was becoming disciplined and responsible. I was also becoming my mother.

There was no better example then when my friends came over and walked in with their shoes. "Oh my God!" I'd say, "What are you, stupid? I just spent 2 hours cleaning these floors. You're not a pig so stop acting like one." It didn't occur to me, how big a nelly I sounded, and years later I still do the same thing.

Primping, cleaning, tidying. It was my mothers' trademark. And now, it's mine. Back then it was called being thorough and clean. Nowadays, they call it OCD.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Memories of my mother

It was an early summer morning and I could hear my mother moving about the house in preparation for work. This was her morning ritual, which she did for many years, before she finally decided to retire early and enjoy life. Every morning though, it was always the same. She never deviated from the plan unless of course she was late. This all occurred many years ago, when we all still lived under the same crazy roof in Oakridges, Ontario. As I lay in bed, I could hear her footsteps as she went down the stairs and let out the dog, made her tea and went to the powder room to do her make-up and hair.

In the midst of this mornings ritual, I could sense a certain rush as she paced about quicker than usual. It wasn't long before I too stirred out of bed, got up and dressed. As I groggily went down the stairs, I noticed a peculiarly odd smell in the air. When I got to the foyer, the smell became even more overpowering. There was a slight haze in the air as well, and I rubbed my eyes believing it to be the residual drowsiness. It didn't seem to help.

As I sniffed the air and looked around, my mother looked at me quizzically and gave me that look of annoyance that told me I was acting weird and to be sure not to get in her way. I was used to that look and began to think it was all in my head, when 20 seconds later she too noticed the odd smell. We both began looking around, when I noticed it was emanating from her.

For the past 3 years I had been working in a garden centre and was quite familiar with plants, and plant products, and this year was no different. I looked at my mother and told her I recognised the smell, walked into the bathroom with her and picked up the can she had been spraying copious amounts of, into her hair and turned the label around.

She looked uncomprehendingly for a moment, then screamed as she realised she had just sprayed about 1/4 of a can of Bug repellent into her hair.

I love my mother. She makes me laugh without intending to.

Note: The title makes it sound like she has passed, but she alive and well, thanks.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

That's a lot of Onion Rings

My father just called me (at work) to tell me he was at my place. Specifically, to tell me he was in my kitchen. I have asked that they call before they do this so that I can prepare myself, but I don't think they understand the concept of privacy. I don't know what possessed me to allow them to keep the second key to my place - I should just change my locks at this point, or better yet, I should just let them walk in on me getting it on with RB, or masturbating to a porn.

So my father tells me he is dropping off a 20 pound bag of onions. By the way, he came via the subway, not a car.
I live alone with my dog - what am I to do with 20 pounds of onions in my small condo? That bag is bigger than dogs food bin.
Speaking of which, he tells me that I left my dishwasher open and that the dog will get to them. I told him that I just washed them and that they hadn't dried properly and that was the reason it was open. Besides, my dog isn't likely to walk up to my dishwasher and lick clean plates, nor is she going to use any of my utensils. Where my father comes up with stuff is beyond me.

My parents have done this on many an occassion. I will be walking up to my building through College Park and I will see my father waving to me from the window, with such vigour that to others, it would appear he was washing my windows. I will enter my unit, and both parents will begin chatting about how to do this on my PC and why I left my clothes on the floor. It never ends. The worse part, is their apparent need to discuss maintenace of my household. I think I am a fairly tidy and clean individual, but my mother will take it upon herself to start cleaning or some such thing. She also likes to save things that she thinks would be re-useable, be they bottles, rubber bands, twist ties, or those super absorbent Scottie Towel papers. YES, she will use the towel papers and then wash them and hang them to dry, to be re-used again.

I pointed out to her that they said disposable on the package.

She doesn't like it when I speak to her like that. For some odd reason, she thinks I am being sarcastic. There have been times where I have gone away to the cottage for a weekend, leaving my place in the care of my mother, only to return home to find the kitchen wallpapered with the stuff.

At least the rest of the condo was clean.

Wednesday, August 3, 2005

Weekend/Week in Review

It's been a fairly busy week and I don't have anything particularly thought provoking to say, so here is a run down of the past weekend/week.

It was Caribana in the city, and the city was swarmed with revellers and police. I don't particularly enjoy this weekend because the revellers park out front of College Park and there have been shootings the last 2 years in a row in this area. The police and our building management agreed to secure our building and prevent any trespassers onto property, but it made coming in and out of the condo similar to Fort Knox. The shootings never seem to happen any other time, and RB and I tried to make the best of it and travel around and do a few things away from the crowds. It's unfortunate that a festival can be marred this way.
Friday after work I went grocery shopping for Miso Honi's (His honourary drag name) birthday party. I was making a spread for about 25 friends and it came out well, save for my nasty burn seen below. The party was a success and the spread was polished off.

Saturday, we woke up late and headed to the Beaches. As RB went to work, I walked around and shopped. We then regrouped and went down to the beach to try to fly his kite. There was no wind so we abandoned the idea, and decided to smoke a bit of pot and ended up laughing our asses off. The beaches and parks were pretty busy, but what stood out was a single family having a picnic. Father was arranging the meal and the little girl was standing facing her dad's back saying;

"Daddy look"
"Daaddy loook"
"Daaddy looook"
"Daaaddy loooook"
"Daaaaddy looooook"

I felt like running up to him and screaming "Daddy FUCKING LOOK" but got distracted by the ice cream truck. Pot tends to give me heightened A.D.D. After getting the said ice cream, I decided to parody the kid with smeared vanilla ice cream all over my face. Everyone in the park thought I was a little 'touched'. RB just laughed his ass off. I then had the brilliant idea of plucking crab apples (5 for RB, 5 for me) and then seeing if we could peg each other. RB whacked me on my chin, and we abandoned the boisterous play after I feigned a crybaby episode.

Saturday evening I was finally able to deliver Miso Honi's gifts, 2 paintings I have been working on for the last week.

Sunday - RB and I went back to the beaches and finally got the kite up in the air. Scared a dozen people or so, by nearly clipping them with the kite. Never realised how hard or fun it would be.

Monday - RB took me to my virginal Driving range experience, and was told I was a natural at it...whatever that means. Honestly speaking, how hard could it be? I already had the prerequistes down pat - Sticking my ass out and holding a long phallic thing called a putter or iron couldn't be that hard.

God, my body has been aching ever since.

Wednesday I was in a foul mood and it was topped off by a fish tank emergency. The bottom of my cylindrical tank cracked and sprung a leak. Fishies are now safely in a new pot, but my 100$ vase is in the trash.

New Fish bowl - Chinese earthenware