meekia

Swallowing. Initial D-ick!

Wedding dinners are surreal experiences for Singaporean couples. You see the grey teamsters smiling at the young couple on stage, happy that someone younger, with more lifestyle options, chose to follow in their footsteps. And then you see the young couples smiling and applauding around you, and you can see them in the same wedding outfits some day...

TP155 and I attended her colleague's blissful banquet tonight and flashes of what might be in store in the future whizzed around in my head. I saw couples with cute rug-rats, couples who kept their cute rug-rats at home, couples who looked like rug-rats, and well, couples who were as playful as rug-rats and ended up with a lot of baby rug-rats as a result.

The young mothers seated in my vicinity, all looked pretty hot so rug-rats destroying the beauty of the mother-rat wasn't a big worry. The thing that crept into my head, was, well, standard poison for any young man who isn't blinded by the romantic cliches sold to us by the pop-C machine.

Why marriage?

(I can hear the elders, the politicians, and the wedding planning companies collectively sighing.)

(Why not?)

Well...marriage is cool. I have nothing against marriage, or people who want to get married. Bless 'em, kiss 'em, hug 'em!

I'm just a young chap who hasn't made up his mind...about the future, about everything.


To drift? Or not to drift. He chose to drift.



What wedding dinners do, is present to you, splendidly real snap-shots of the future.

I see:
The wedding planner staring at me.
The parents. The bookings. The menu selection. The gowns. The HDB flat,

THE RUG-RATS...

Oh, don't get me wrong. I lurrrrrrrrrrrrve the little, running-around, drooling, crying thingamatodds. I often work with them due to the nature of my work (kids events, children's TV shows). But there's a difference between playing the friendly happy clown for a few hours at work, and playing the shit-cleaning, pee-wiping, advice-spewing father.

You know, what did appeal to me though, was the torrid amount of bonking you could expect after the dinner, during the honeymoon, and (my guess, at least) the first 2-years.

But well, these days, strawberries are usually eaten before the wedding cake. Nobody waits for the fruit anymore... People head straight for the juice. Wedding was never about the torrid bonking anyway, c'mon. Aren't we talking about legal recognition, social culmination, ideological combination?

Anyway, speaking of Head. and Juice.

The Very Funny One was seated next to me and TP155, and Thank God! for his generous shovels of adult humour. SWB (good friend of The VF one) was there and she chimed in splendidly.

Marriage and rug-rats aside, the (juicy!) process of getting there is always a great ride isn't it?

Speaking of Head. Juice. and Rides.

VF One and SWB somehow drift-ed (飘移!） from swallowing, to "gear-stick" manouvres to Initial D(ick) jokes.


我不是　陈冠鸡 !

All the boisterous banter made for a lovely distraction to the trail of thoughts on marriage issues of course, although I'd have to say the red wine certainly lent a helping hand.

To matrimony, freedom of choice, and...swallowing.

Bottoms up!

Technorati Tags:
Singapore
Initial D

posted by audaciousjoy @ 12:36 AM