for those of you who have seen the previous post, i replaced it because when i re-read it again, it really looked like a rambling sort of article to me, which disgusted me, so i removed it. haha. and replaced it by a shorter and more succint quote so that you get to that point of the story and i don't feel stupid reading a rambling article that seems to make no sense when i read it a second time. but oh look, here i am rambling again. HAHA.
nah, i know exactly what i'm talking about in this entry. today i'm going to talk about the flasher that i met last friday. i wish i could continue this entry with an amazing story about how i kicked his dangling balls, slathered him with enough pepper spray to kill an elephant, and then squashed him into a sorry pulp, but NO. that didn't happen. what i had mentally prepared myself for the moment i stepped into india vanished at the sight of the man standing in a dark corner of a relatively deserted street, at about 8pm on the friday evening, saying excuse-me-madam, with his pants unzipped and his balls dangling merrily in a phantom breeze.
i must say i have never been more shocked and surprised and disgusted. in a split second he turned around to leave, i can't remember if he walked off or ran off, but i turned around and slapped him on the back and screamed fuck-off-you-fucking-pervert. for the life of me, i couldn't understand why i didn't attempt to beat him up in that instant, and just let him go off like that. i mean, at any given rational moment i would have slathered his balls with pepper spray (i later discovered that i didn't bring my pepper spray out with me that night), but well, i didn't do it.
i do remember being incredibly pissed off, though i wasn't sure if i was angry at myself for not attacking the attacker, or if i was angry at the attacker for attacking me (means visually assaulting me with his ugly balls). but i was on my way to meet gabriel for dinner that night, and when i first met him i remember shouting at him at the top of my lungs because i was so angry. (he later called it noise pollution) i wanted to make a police report, but first i called mahzarine, who is the HR person in charge of us Singaporean interns. i said i wanted to go to the police, but she said she wasn't sure if that would help matters, or if the police would even take the case seriously at all. she later called her lawyer, who confirmed that the police will not take this case seriously. and so there i was, angry because i was helpless.
damn.
oh well, think i shall end the entry here, i really need to go to the bathroom, i'd been in one hell of a long meeting today, and now i'm sitting in some dinghy internet cafe furiously typing out this entry (because i need to go to the bathroom, haha). sigh.
7 weeks and i'm counting every damn minute.
here's the guy who usually wears black-and-white tights.
he looks really tame today. :( but he was very nice to me when i took these pictures, so i shan't make fun of him.
okay this is the crazy bugger.
six foot one, he instructs me to take this picture of him, while he looks macho-ly somewhere else.
he huffs and puffs and grunts his way through his workout.
this guy is normal.
he checks himself out as the trainer waits to count his reps.
his name is asif.
gab and i both agree that this bears an uncanny resemblance to childbirth.
and he really sound like he's in labour. seriously.
*grunt*
this crazy man presented me with a host of gifts on valentine's day, a day after i talked to him at the gym. 
guess the amount of weights he's lifting.
well, enough about asif. 
this is seriously FHM-worthy.
close up shot. 
*snarl*
*grrrrr* 
*roar*
check out his armpit hair!
oh joy, a whole range of torture tools for you to choose from!
