LIISA

LIISA

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Issao nao e verdade



In a book by Don Kulick, a picture of a wall scrolled with the Brazilian words, "Issao nao e Verdade," is found in its very first pages. The wall is actually located along a steep narrow alley with enormous potholes in Sao Francisco Street in Salvador, Brazil. The words mean, "this is not real" in its English translation. Kulick thinks this is a reminder to anyone who is passing through this place that one is entering a different realm, a place where appearances might be deceiving and where what was real and what was not was very much a question of one's desires, point of view and frame of mind...

But hundreds of miles away, in an era long gone, a most unique place in sunny Singapore once existed which would have given so much justice to the phrase in that wall. Bugis Street in the 1950s to the 1980s was all food stalls, wet market and affordable restaurants in the light of day but when the darkness of night took over a most magical phenomenon took place. A parade of beautiful women dressed in the most flamboyant and provocative ensembles lit the place literally. They would sashay down the street, oblivious to the screaming and cajoling of the Western tourists and the locals but very very mindful of the potential amorous gaze of the moneyed Caucasian. There was only one twist to this event. The individuals who lent their presence to this Vaudeville were not real females. They were transsexuals and transvestites - boys who dared to cross the gender lines from their original masculine origin to the other side of the chasm.

Despite this transgression of gender norms, the "fashion" event and the "girls" were well-received by the Western boys and even caused such a stir in the international scene because of the simple fact that they were more beauteous than real women. There was an adage amongst Westerners that one could easily tell who was a real female and who was not - the transwomen were drop-dead gorgeous, while the rest were real women.

More importantly a most profitable trade flourished in this area. The transgirls would solicit "financial donations" from the half-drunk sailors,
American GIs and other foreigners on rest and recreation in exchange for the thrill of intimacy with not only an exotic oriental but also the added spice of destroying gender boundaries in a steamy session. The income that the girls took in from their dealings gave the Singapore tourism industry a major boost.





Not surprisingly the transgirls were not the only ones to put on a show in the area. There was a public lavatory which had a flat roof in the vicinity and without too much effort and in spite of being drunk many an Aussie, American or English lad or local ladyboy would climb up and put on an impromptu show. One such incident was when a U.S. sailor stripped and got up on the roof. He then rolled up a newspaper, stuck it in his ass and lit the newspaper whilst his mates took pictures! This event spurred on the "Dance of the Flaming Arseholes" tradition performed by drunk sailors. Supportive compatriots would clap and sing tunes while the actor performed on his make-believe stage.





Because booze was involved and alcohol clouds the mind, fights were not uncommon between conflicting parties. Usually it was between rival ships from the US Navy or US Navy versus the Royal Navy or sometimes with the involvement of the Australian Navy. Bottles would start flying all over the place and punches would be exchanged. The military police would get wind of this and they would soon turn up and make arrests.





These events all coalesce into the colorful and beautiful collage called Bugis Street. But the Singapore government took on a different perspective. The authorities eventually caught up to the legal trespassings of the delinquent sailors and the blatant flesh trade. Arrests were made and some of the Westerners were even dealt with severely and sent home. Singapore started to revamp the whole area in an effort to "clean up" their act but they earned the subtle criticism of the tourist and local population for doing so. Lamentation over the loss of this cultural staple pushed Singapore tourism chiefs to attempt to recreate some of the splendour of the old Bugis Street by staging articially contrived stage performances which never really matched up to the magnanimity of the real show put on years earlier by the gorgeous transwomen. The idea fizzled inevitably of course.

The spectacle that is Bugis will forever be etched in Singapore's history and for me, more significantly too, in the memories of men who have dared to cross the gender lines and sexual convention. Not only did this seemingly uneventful experience for the people who were really there to experience it all become such a cultural marvel years later, it also turned into a symbol of sexual revolution for people who assume that there are no other permutations in the basic human sexual act. The premise that man is meant for woman and woman is meant for man is a dilapidated and old-fashioned combination and should give precedence to other erotic equations. There are many ways to enjoy the sensual experience more than the so-called norms and the spectacle that is Bugis Street certainly mocked many sex bibles with all that transpired in this colorful area AND era of Singapore's historical strata and the world's sex diary.






NOTE: This spectacular article would never be possible without the help of DickRick who is my guardian/confidante in Singapore and Wikipedia and my lamentable head for putting the whole piece together despite being weary from booze LOL....Thank you so much....

Friday, November 9, 2007

the face of our time...



she is the most beautiful woman i have ever seen...period. I may not have seen her in person but it is enough that I have seen the worst of her too in pictures. The first time I saw her in her Calvin Klein ads on TV, I thought she was stunningly beauteous. I am not going butch by the way and i still adore men...looks, figure and stiffness in all the right areas hahahahahahhaha....

But Christy's face is divine and very very unique. In a profession where beauty is defined by nasal perfection, perfect skin, gorgeous soft hair and who Karl Lagerfeld fancies at the moment (LOL) she is not typical. A friend once told me that she really has all the right bones in the right places in her face and I second his comment. When you really dissect the various parts of her looks you can find imperfections. Lips too small? Eyes too wide? Nose looks fake? I don't know but when I look at the whole equation she is really aesthetically pleasing.

Metropolitan Museum of Art calls her "The Face of the 20th Century."

Perhaps the best description I keep of her which was also first quoted by another friend is "Her beauty grows on you...she does not look stunning at first but the more you look at her, the more you realize she is indeed sublimely pretty." Oh how can I in my endless search for beauty, ever match up to this woman???? LOL.

And her looks are way too deceptive over what she has achieved over the years. She has campaigned against smoking of which she was addicted to in the past but quit for good. She has moved products to the top of the world market...from lipglosses to yoga mats to garbs to magazines, she is a tour de force. But she will be best remember for being graceful when the negative aspects of her life were laid out for the world to see. Cognizance of your imperfections is an achievement and to admit it in public is revolutionary. Your vulnerabilities are visible for people to see and that is dare-devilish. She has championed being a public figure and being a private one too.

My admiration for her is indefinable and I have never found another Iron-Curtain fraulein or Brazilian bunda to match her magnetism...
i shall sing her praises forever. Well probably until....I can match her beauty an an impossible, intensive plastic surgery which will never happen LOL...



dry spell...

When you have been travelling through leagues and miles of arid, parched and unhydrated land you want to run into a comfort zone...an oasis comes to mind right? The soothing embrace of the cooler climate, flora that soothes the heat-myopic eye, and naturally the irreplaceable sensation of fluid touching your lips are among the sensory experiences we long for and almost expect to have when we run into this landscape...

But what if the castle we have built in the sands of our mind turns out to be a Hades of a place? What if the expectations we have built around it overlap reality by a seriously outrageous margin? In other words, what if the Disneyland we have envisioned, for our fun-loving selves, is overrated shite? The initial feeling of disappointment takes over and then once we get over that emotion, the instinct of flight takes over. To flee is a natural course of action. Perhaps another oasis awaits beyond our known horizons? Not within visibility range but nevertheless trusting gut feeling to push us to go forth blindly and hope we stumble into another verdant utopia is innate...

I want to get away from this mess called home. I thought I was going to have a more relaxed pace here but it seems people will not give me any kind of peace. Or maybe it's just my convoluted mind that is not allowing me to think clearly? Am I just imagining walls closing in on me and characters suffocating me? Or perhaps I really do need to take a break away from break???? Hahahaha does that even make sense? Because I thought this was going to be my vacation, my oasis. But it seems drought has long deprived this place of whatever moisture existed here in the past. I have run into another Gobi or Sahara...a desolate, God-forsaken, scorching, miserable devil's lair. The green pastures, milk and honey and manna for the starving in this biblical haven were mere illusions brewed by a clouded pulp of a brain...

I have to get away once again. This is no place for a manic-depressive, dyslexic and slightly obsessive-compulsive girl. I am raving incoherently once again....my apologies....


Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

VISUAL TREAT...



a treat for my VIP lounge members....full sets of each of these pictures....coming SOON!!!!



love this.....

Doors
Why do there have to be doors
Coz when u walked right out that door of mine
It made me wonder why there are tears
Where is the end to all of these tears
Where’s the face that use to cheer me up
Girl, that makes me wonder
Why does my heart just keep on beating
Why do my arms just keep on reaching
To someone who’s no longer there

What can I say besides I’m sorry
What can I say to change your mind
What can I do to make tomorrow yours and mine

Chairs
Why do there have to be chairs
It shows its empty now
There’s no one there
It really makes me wonder
Why does my heart just keep on beating
Why do my arms just keep on reaching
To someone who’s no longer there

What can I say besides I’m sorry
What can I say to change your mind
Why do I keep on holding on
A chance you’ll walk back through the door
When my heart knows there’s no hope anymore
Why do there have to be doors
Why do there have to be doors

Doors - Michael Johnson



Saturday, November 3, 2007

caretaker...



if i am allowed to believe in ethereal beings (hint! hint!) I believe that somebody's invisible cloak envelops me everytime somebody does something adverse to me! whosoever owns that cloak warms me with thoughts that the misfortune that just took place would be succeeded by a more favorable circumstance perhaps ten times as rewarding than what I deserve! I know you think this is silly but this has happened to me on so many occasions that to think of serendipity would be sacrilegious!

Case in point, people have borrowed money from me many times or individuals have cheated me. Some have been gracious and punctual in terms of completing the transaction while others seem to pray for my amnesiac tendencies to increase with time. These phylum of individuals are good at letting the grace period of payment commence, without a word or whiff of their vociferous armpit smell. Then if I do meet them at one point they have skin as thick as a warthog's ass to act so relaxed in front of me.

This is not a letter of complaint or a chickensoup for the soul literature on the lack of sensitivity in some people. What I want to emphasize is the extraordinary phenomenon of life's natural course to balance things out in the end. Our lives suck but we have to stop and marvel at how an equilibrium seems to materialize when we view our negative situations from a wider chronological and sequential perspective! But of course not everyone is capable of this kind of thinking. Many will often just see their circumstance in life as giant cesspits from where they cannot get out. I am a bit different though. It seems that for me the positive events that follow a discouraging incident stand out because I recognize their presence and I have internalized the fact that without pain, nothing of a higher satisfaction can be gained. So far nothing has ever really shaken this relatively admirable personal trait and I hope nothing ever does make it perish for nothing is as important in life as knowing that when one stumbles, one is more than capable of getting up again and running twice or more times faster than that pace you mustered before you fell...

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

carbon copy

will you please be original?????? LOL



genuine....taken January, 2007....THE BEST LOL

super duper Nth class imitation....LOL