Dear friends,
Yes, I have finally moved to a new home. It’s called Finally Woken, and the address is http://finally-woken.com.
Pardon the mess, as I have just moved in today. Be prepare for more surprises later, but hopefully you can continue enjoying my stories in the new home in http://finally-woken.com.
As of today, I finally say goodbye to my friendster blog. I have resided in this place since 2005, a place which has had witnessed my life journey for almost three years. It’s where I started to motivate myself to write again, it’s where I started to realise that people read my ramblings. It’s the place where I gained my confidence to conquer the blogosphere, and finally, to establish my new home, in http://finally-woken.com.
If you are my friendster friends, you are usually notified by friendster once I update my friendster blog. Now I move out, to keep you updated, you could click to http://feeds.feedburner.com/FinallyWoken and bookmark it in your browser.
Hope to see you all in my new home: http://finally-woken.com !
regards,
FW
You,
of course, have heard about metrosexual men. Since the Nineties, men
have embraced their feminine side and spent an equal amount of time in
the bathroom as their other-halves, putting some face cream or hair gel
on, as well as scrutinizing fashion magazines to keep up with the
latest trend. David Beckham, as you might have known, is the
metrosexual man’s idol.
- finds gay men come on to him and he feels flattered.
- carries a manbag (a.k.a a purse to normal blokes), and his suitcase, no matter how small, has wheels.
- likes to go "commando".
- calls men’s toiletries "products".
- knows his hairdresser name.
- knows what a manicure, pedicure, facial or exfoliation is.
"I‘m in love," he said. "This girl is… something. She’s special."
I nodded. Waited for more explanation.
"We had sex for 14 hours."
Oh. O-k then. Good sex = in love.
Minutes
later he and another bloke were in deep conversation. The topic? The
best pair of breasts he has ever seen. Big is not only the criteria,
apparently, although it is the most important one. Their eyes were
wandering around the bar. To be precise, wandering from one pair of
boobs to another.
I
stirred my glass. I couldn’t explain how I felt. Partly I was amused
they thought they could talk about this freely in front of me. Party I
was annoyed by the lack of respect they showed to women in general.
A lot of things happened since my last thread. Most of them are too taboo or too kinky to be revealed in this such public place so if you are still interested you might send me an email asking what had happened, and I might answer your questions. Perhaps you might find some answers in my Facebook account, though I can’t guarantee 100%…
Anyway, after being back in Indonesia, I have noticed a thing about Indonesians which I haven’t thought before. We are so modest we always apologise about everything, even though it is absolutely unnecessary. One day Alison and I were following a guy who gave us a tour around the coffee plantation in Magelang, and even though he could speak English very well, as well as French and Italian, he still apologised for his skill. He didn’t see that most of us in the group are too lazy to learn other languages, (the French and Italian groups’ English are even worse than anyone I know), the guide who promised to speak only in English so he didn’t have to repeat himself three times, finally ended up explaining things over and over again.
