Two Faces of Womanhood

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Pictures taken in 2003 by Joshua Tan. (Click on pictures for larger views). The duality of the cultured world and the notorious world. Two contradicting realms, two faces of womanhood.

From Adult Men's Playground To Bigoted Buddhists (Bilingual 双语言)

(Click on picture for bigger viewing)


序言:  1. 男人三妻四妾是天生的。
            2. 既然我站立起来发言，我代表所有的性工作者或妓女。
            3. 这文章是针对歧视妓女的佛教徒。

90年代。 这是皇都夜总会的大场。在台上面，Band 队的音乐很大声。大声到客人要抱紧我们小姐，说话在我们的耳边。夜总会的客人一大部分都是结了婚的男人。他们的性欲很强。在大场，有很多男经理， 男服务员（waiters）走来走去。


但好色, 淫荡的客人会强吻我们小姐的口和脸部到整个脸发臭。他们别的狂放动作就是用手摩挲，抓，挖，我们的里面。 甚至什么都要挖出来看。他们拉我们的衣服，拆开内衣。拿我们的手来按摩他们的阳部，按摩到坚硬。这么多人跑来跑去，他们都不理会。如果在卡啦OK方里面，我们可以忍受。不过在大场，我们的工作真的很幸苦，要忍受这样的侮辱和委屈。最难忍受都要忍受。很多小姐服轻的物质来‘high’ ，麻醉自己来做完我们的工作。单单喝酒是不够的。如果有男人（非客人）在外面这样做，我一早就打破他的脸。让他看他自己的血。


我的好朋友，Annie, 有一晚上和我说，‘如果我们卖肉体的钱撕开, 眼泪和血都会流下来’。我听了都要哭。是事实，没有什么工作这么痛苦和难忍受过卖自己的肉体。


做夜总会小姐或性功作者不是我的选择。这个功作是我自己不愿意做的。 在夜总会功作，痛苦的日子是99%。 开心的日子是1%.


关键是为什么我要做这我根本不愿意做的工作？原因就是我的精神病不允许我继续求学。不允许我做明日的工作。 我患了严重的先天性和遗传的抑郁症和强逼症。我的集中力严重分散。思想一点都不正常。左右我的份不清楚。自己的身体，头发发臭了，我都不懂。这样那可以做办公室的工作呢？惟一个工作我做到的是讲话，唱歌，喝酒和陪男人。


现在修行了，我的病渐渐退了。但让我最心痛的是有些佛教徒一样批评，歧视我的工作。我当然会做回我自己。 我拍摄了艺术裸体写真照片。这些照片让我感觉很骄傲，给了我很大的自信心。拍摄之前我很幸苦来减肥，精进做运动。我和Joshua Tan 很头痛来计划编制。拍摄时侯真的很幸苦。需要整个两天还做完。

拍摄的价钱是很贵。Joshua 是一位很专业的摄影师。他教我摆很好的姿势 （pose），让我的照片不会猥亵，淫秽。他做到了。拍摄的结果很成功。他拍摄了我的很高贵的艺术裸体写真照片。甚至洗照片的职员都赞他的创作品。

但是那些佛教徒，不但批评，歧视我的工作，他们也看不顺眼我的艺术裸体写真照片。有一个佛教徒，她清高来说我这样的行为是 ‘不正’，再说 ‘修佛要修心’。那她自己有修心吗？歧视,批评是叫修心，修行啊？歧视, 批评就是憎恨。憎恨就是罪恶。 她作了罪业她自己都不知道。在离谱就是她叫我去‘三昧水忏’！如果这样全世界的妓女都是‘不正’, 全部都要去忏悔。如果不忏悔，就不可以修行了。有这样的愚蠢，白痴，傻的佛呆子。她这样的说话是很大的侮辱。全世界有几百万的妓女。她已经说了几百万的侮辱说话，如果她会计数。

这些佛教徒还叫自己们修行者。他们修什么呢？ 就是修愚蠢，白痴。比畜牲更愚蠢，白痴。起码畜牲不会歧视,批评。


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Prologue: 
1. Men are polygamous by nature.
2. Since I choose to stand up to voice out, I am representing ALL sex workers.
3. This article is written for the reading pleasure of ALL bigoted Buddhists.


In the 90s. This was the Deluxe Nite Club’s grand hall. The Filipino band singing and playing loud music, so loud that the clients hugged us girls tightly, and talked to us on the ear sides. The majority of the nightclub clients were MARRIED MEN. And their lustfulness surpassed the animals’. There were many male Managers and waiters who walked around hastily, doing their routines in the grand hall.


But the briskness of many people around didn’t affect dog-drooling, canine lecherous clients. Their testosterone controlled their brains, and their penises had their own minds. There went the forced kissing, face licking, until we girls’ faces smelt rotten. The clients’ favorite brutal libidinous actions were grouping, digging out what were inside our bras, for they wanted to see the nipples. Some opened our bra hooks, pulled our skirts up to reveal the panties, and even pulled the panties, in front of so many watching eyes. Another thingy that they really loved was to put our hands on top of their pants, on their groins, and told us to stroke their penises till rock hard.


We girl would not mind much if they did all above in the Karaoke rooms, for only the few waiters and waitresses were outsiders. But in the grand hall, all these insulting, embarrassing actions could be seen by many others, esp. the male Managers and waiters. We girls had to endure what we didn’t want to endure, no matter how much we loathed them all. Many of us took soft substances like speeds so that the time could elapse faster, and so that our mind would be altered from reluctant and pains to willingness and pleasures. Alcohol alone no longer working. It was a norm to see us girls grinned or laughed for no reasons, or repeating what we had said or done, or completely out of our minds.


If all these happened outside the nightclubs, done by a man who was a non-client, I would break his face, and let him tasted his own blood.


There was a night when a good friend of mine, Annie lamented, ‘If we tear the money that we earned from selling our bodies, the tears and blood would drip’. When I heard it, I became teary. I couldn’t think of any other jobs that could be so insulting, agonizing and harrowing.


Working in the nightclubs was NOT my choice. It was a job that I was NOT willing to do. Working in nightclubs, days of unhappiness was 99%, while happiness was only 1%.


The crux of the matter. Why on the planet I chose to work as nightclub hostess, when I was so UNWILLING to? The REASON was that my psychological illnesses, namely Clinical Depression (an inheritance) and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) (congenital) disallowed me to pursue on my studies. It also disallowed me from working in daytime, in offices. These illnesses were chronic and severe. Severe enough to cause great concentration impairment. My thought was not right. I lived in my OCD fantasies that almost caused me to detach from the reality. Sometimes, I couldn’t even handle the daily life activities. My brain couldn’t work anymore.


Telling me to work in office was stupid idea. I had worked in a telemarketing company called Kompass prior to working in nightclubs. I couldn’t even remember how to fill up the simple forms and bills. My mental concentration was near to zero. I was called to the manager office several times for my poor performances. That was the reason I left the office and worked in the nightclubs, the only job that I could do. Working in the nightclubs was very easy, only entertaining men, singing and drinking, and nothing that required mental concentration. And alcohol and speeds were readily available. When we girls were drunk, all of us were insane. So who cares?


And my boyfriend, Horikawa did not notice my mental abnormalities. He only thought I was too young, and would cry and scream for things that I wanted, just like a child.


Many years have past and now I am cultivating Buddhism. It’s amazing that my psychological illness gradually alleviated. But circumstances have not come to an end. Now I have to endure the new insults. Insults from whom if not Buddhists themselves? They discriminate my profession. They abhor my artistic nude pictures that not only I had paid high price for, but painstakingly went through the painful dieting and rigorous exercise before the photography. And the nerve wrecking planning and organizing by both Joshua Tan and I. Not to mention the exhausting two photo sessions that took the entire two days.

And Joshua was a professional. He put in effort, taught me how to perform creative, refine poses, so that my photos would not come out obscene or vulgar. He made it as classy as possible. The results of the photography was excellent. It was such a real success that those in the photo processing shop praised Joshua's exquisite works. These photos are what I am really proud of, of which they return and restore back my long lost self esteem.


And these are the photos that those bigoted Buddhists DISGUSTED about, in addition to their shallow discrimination against my profession. There was one Holier-Than-Thou Buddhist said such attitude of mine was ‘NOT RIGHT’. And with her aloft style, she continued, ‘Cultivate Buddhism must cultivate the heart’. Then DID she cultivate her own heart in first place? So discrimination is called cultivating heart or cultivating Buddhism?


Discrimination is hatred. And hatred is bad karma itself. She had invested her own bad karma, and she didn’t even aware of it. The most ludicrous thing was that she urged me to go for the Repentence ritual, ‘San Mei Shui Chan’! If these should be the right way accordingly, then ALL sex workers in the entire world are ‘NOT RIGHT’. All should go for all those complete ABSURD repentance rituals, before allowing to cultivate Buddhism.


Little did I knew there was such idiotic, senseless, lard-headed, so-called cultivating Buddhist. All those she had uttered were GREAT insults. There are millions of sex workers in the entire world. And she had uttered millions of words of insults if she knew how to count.


These biased Buddhists are more idiotic than ANIMALS. At least animals don’t discriminate. Despite of being pig-brained, lard-headed, they still think they are oh-so-self-righteous. They are not cultivating Buddhism. They are cultivating ABSOLUTE STUPIDITY.

Capturing Your Soul 2

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Pictures taken in 2003 by Joshua Tan. (Click on pictures for larger views). Self portraits give me a safe heaven to express myself in a sensual way. Sensuality is a channel to experience things, it is often a prelude of things to come, such as an increase of sex appeal. It is a personal affirmation of self-esteem.

Capturing Your Soul 1

 

 

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Pictures taken in 2003 by Joshua Tan (Click on pictures for larger views). Believe me, the camera sees your SOUL. It sees more than your naked eyes could see. And it captures your inner self, which could not be seen on the mirror, or by others. Only the camera could see it.

Express Myself

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These artistic nude pictures were taken in year 2003, by Joshua Tan. (Click on the pictures for larger views). Having my nude body photographed is a form of self expression. A healthy discovery, simply a hint of hidden eroticism. I've rediscovered my sensuality.

I express my gratefulness for Joshua Tan, my beloved gay photographer, his make up artist, Rachel Tan and their assistant for their hardwork and patient. 8 years have past and I could recall the joy of working together with them.

Bridal Shower - With Blood (Part 3)

Prologue: The ancient Chinese idiom goes 无冤不成夫妻 –If they are not enemies, they will not become husband and wife.

Now I’m branching out the compelling real stories about men’s infidelity, involving the clients whom I knew. I shall introduce Horikawa’s colleagues cum good friends. They were Mr. Akai and Mr. Mitani. All three were Japanese expatriates, in their 40s, married with child/children and stayed in Kuala Lumpur. Horikawa and Mitani worked in the same office in Shah Alam, and Mr. Akai belonged to another co-joined company. They were the Three Philandering Musketeers of Roppongi Lounge. Penises up!

All pictures taken in Year 1991 and 1992. (To see the pictures bigger, just click on them.)

. 1st picture – From left, Mitani (Managing Director), Shirley (Secretary), standing, and other office staffs. Shirley had helped Horikawa and I very much, keeping our secrets, booking air tickets and hotels for our holidays, etc.

. 2nd picture – Mitani (left, Managing Director) and Horikawa (right, Factory Director) during a holiday.

. 3rd picture – Akai (left), Mitani (Managing Director, middle) and Horikawa (Factory Director, right) in their office compound. Did all three of them look polite and cultured in shirts and ties, and company uniform? Yes. And they were handsome. Any signs of lechery and womanizing attitude? Not at all.



And what was behind those smart looking, well-mannered Japanese men? All the three sushi-faced kept girlfriends/mistresses. Mitani was with Ai (means love, in Japanese), Akai was with Vivian and Horikawa with me. Ai, Vivian and I worked in Roppongi Lounge.



Those cold-sashimi Japanese were dead solemn and serious in their works. But when the party started in Roppongi Lounge, the playground for adult men, they behaved worse than children.



On Mitani. This tofu stuffed-looking Japanese was the most promiscuous, and had the tiniest brain of all. He hardly knew how to handle his girlfriends, but yet, had a harem of them. He, his wife, Hui Ling and 5 years old son stayed in Bangsar. Hui Ling was a Taiwanese woman (sorry no picture). Real story on wife such as Hui Ling was the most heart-rending one that I had encountered.



Hui Ling had acknowledged well about her husband promiscuity, but trying extremely hard, even against her own will, to accept her husband despite of his irresponsibility. She loved her husband like no other.



And what actually had taken place? One Sunday night, when Horikawa and I were in Roppongi Lounge, having our karaoke session, the door flung opened. Horikawa and I were startled to see Mitani pulling Hui Ling, half-drunk in. Why on the planet Mitani brought his wife to such a place? Mitani sat down, mellowed with apologetic face. He explained that he and Hui Ling went for drinking in a bar prior to that. And that Hui Ling had discovered about his relationship with Ai, hence became very upset and disappointed. Feeling betrayed, she demanded Mitani to bring her to a bar to get drunk, and later went to Roppongi to look for Ai. Thank goodness, that day was Ai’s off day.



I observed Hui Ling. She was in her 30s, thin and frumpy looking. She wore simple dress and worn-out flat shoes, and didn’t put on make up or did her hair. And these were big contrast to the young, beautiful and elegant ‘in-girl’, Ai. Ai was one of the few girls who wore expensive designer outfits and had fancy hairstyles.



Hui Ling then apologized for intruding us, even knowing I was Horikawa’s mistress. She was sad and crying, telling us she was unhappy. She continued to drink and that had made her became worse. She then laughed and no longer herself, and Mitani pulled her blouse as she scrambled her way to us. Later she (and Mitani followed) even knelt down in front of us, and heads hitting the floor to apologize! And unexpectedly, Hui Ling then invited Horikawa and I to their home to have lunch on the coming Sunday. And Mitani was dumb folded, and had to agree even he didn’t expect his wife would make such invitation!



Although both Horikawa and I were shocked-horror, we yielded to Hui Ling request, in order not to let the situation worsened. I knew Hui Ling needed to talk to me, pouring her heart out, hence making the lunch invitation.



The Sunday arrived, and both Horikawa and I were clumsy and nervous, didn’t know what to say or do. We were greeted by Hui Ling, looking happier this time, and the embarrassed Mitani. Hui Ling spoke Mandarin to me, and started to unveil all her heart breaking stories. (And both the Japanese husbands were shivered with anxiety!). She told me she understood my position as Horikawa’s mistress and was not biased against me.



She revealed she faced devastating problems. Ai somehow sneaked into their condominium, and wrote big letters with lipstick, ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’ on Mitani’s car screen! Mitani scrubbed them off, but Ai persisted, sneaked in again and wrote the same things. Ai also phoned Mitani many times in their home and left notes there. There were arguments over and over and that caused the neighborhood to notice them. Hui Ling then became a victim. There was a large community of Japanese people, usually families, staying in same condominium. The Japanese housewives gossiped about Hui Ling. And hapless Hui Ling had no one to help her, no where to go. And that was the reason she broke down. Hui Ling told me she even thought of committing suicide.



Not long before they banged into our karaoke room that Sunday, Hui Ling had a big argument with Mitani, and she packed her luggage, hugging her son and wanted to leave for Taiwan. Mitani held them back. Imagine how their neighbors were alerted with the loud argument.



And why on the planet Ai was doing that? Simple. Mitani dumped her, probably for another woman. And there was an epilogue. Mitani then was after another hostess, a Filipino (name forgotten) working in Bird Nest Japanese Lounge. I had met her, but she wasn’t as elegant as Ai. According to Horikawa, there was once Mitani sending the Filipino girl home in his car. But Hui Ling arrived in the nick of time, standing in front of the car! That shocked Mitani, and he hurriedly tell his girl to leave! Also, almost every morning, Hui Ling would scream to wake Mitani up, holding his shirt with lipstick stains! So Mitani said he didn’t even need an alarm clock. What a dude...haha!



After Horikawa contract expired, he returned to Japan. Mitani remained in Malaysia, and he continued to sow his philandering seeds. When I was working in Deluxe, I had heard of him chased yet another two girls in Roppongi Lounge. And what had happened to Hui Ling? I regretted I didn’t keep in touch with her. This is a typical man’s philandering saga.



On Akai. Akai face resembled Garfield, and he was the most polite among the three assholes. He stayed with his wife (if not mistaken, she was pregnant at that time) in Bangsar. Akai and his relationship with his mistress, Vivian had became a jargon among the girls in Roppongi Lounge and the Japanese clients. We had acknowledged that both Akai and Vivian had taken wedding photos. And later, there was a rumor that Vivian was pregnant with Akai’s child. I did not know if that was true. But I knew Akai’s marriage was at the verge of collapsing. Not much news on Akai, but I knew there were many unhappiness that followed.


So, when I see a bridal shower, I see BLOOD.

My articles piss people off, but wake people up.
                                                            
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Epilogue: The process of writing these three-parted articles of Bridal Shower – With Blood was distressing and agonizing. Each recollection contains pain. The bitterness and anguishes that I did not want to recall had to be recalled. There were moments that I wished to terminate the process altogether.

But I had gathered my determinations and at the end, managed to complete them, despites of the many difficulties. I wrote these invaluable experiences of mine, for I felt responsible to trumpet to the world about the hideous, repugnant reality of the world, which often being overlooked by many. These are the people who chose to see the unrealistic facets of the world, and to live in the fantasies of their own creations.

If I do not wake you up, you will fall asleep again.

Bridal Shower - With Blood (Part 2)

Year 1991 to year 1992. What a decent husband like Horikawa had said and implied about his relationship with his wife? His followed explanations representing the reasons why all husbands stray like canines:

. He and his wife had little subject to talk, after being married for many years. All that needed to be talked had already been talked.

. Communications between he and his wife involved the stressful bills, the problems with children, and house hold matters, which not only bored him to breathless, but stabbed him to death, after being all stressed out from work.

. Everything between he and his wife was dead serious and dull. The newly weds romance, lovey-dovey, fun and laughter had long died and buried in graveyards.

. His wife was too simple, mind simple, dressing simple, movements simple, simply boring, living in her simple world.

. His wife’s vagina was loose after giving births to 2 children. Her figure expanded and flesh sagged like soaked bread. And that he hardly had any sexual gratifications.



And why Horikawa chose to have clumsy, awkward, idiotic-looking young woman like me to be his girlfriend (euphemism for mistress)?

. He and I had too many to talked, just like he and his wife, before marriage. I was ‘new’, so he felt rejuvenated, just like chasing a girl during his younger time.

. Our conversations involved how to play golf and improve bowling skills, cooking Japanese foods, singing Japanese songs, and everything Japanese. All fun, zero stress.

. Everything between us was romantic, casual, playful, humorous. He sat in the supermarket trolley while I pushed it and ran around the supermarket. He put ice inside my collar. He put a peanut into my nose, then squeezed it out and made me ate it. He stuffed his dirty socks on my face. He blow-dry his hair and armpits (see picture). He made comical faces to make me laugh (see picture). He made comical postures, also to make me laugh (see picture).

. I was ludicrously playful, sarcastically mischievous, lunatic, and weird enough to rotate his earth the other way. (Little did he knew I was hospitalized in the psychiatric ward in less than 10 years after that).

. As a children and babies hater, I vowed never to give birth. And this had saved me from lots of troubles. I didn’t have any expansion anywhere. Of course I could provide what he needed.


20 years have already passed. Horikawa is 61 years old now, or probably DEAD. Pussy fucker. He ought to be sent to morgue earlier. So, will I get married some days? MAYBE. So what is my reason? Use your head.


Whenever I see a wedding couple in white gown and tuxedo, I see the disgusting semen inside the used condom of the client. I smell the stinky unwashed penis of the client. I touch the nauseating sweats on the client’s body. I stare at the hogwash ugly, stumpy, old, fat naked body of the client. And plant this in your head - All these clients are MARRIED MEN.


When I see a bridal shower, I see BLOOD.

Bridal Shower - With Blood (Part 1)

That day I saw a beautiful bride sashaying down with glaring can-can wedding gown, to hold the arm of the handsome bridegroom. And the bride was so overjoyed that she smile nearly exposed her deepest molar. Whoa! She looked like she had found her missing body part that could be attached back! And the crowd cheered and snapped pictures of the King and the Queen of the day.



But when I saw over delighted couple with the joyful crowd, I started to feel some sorts of unknown fear, which slowly creeping up to my spine. The fear that pricked me so hard that sent chills to every vertebra of my spine. My feet felt cold. So cold that they became numb, as if I didn’t touch the ground. Suddenly I felt nauseous. I wanted to throw all the contents of my stomach out.



The images of the nightclub scenes flashed back like an old projector running the slides. Ta-ta-ta. A client slipped his hand into my bra and grabbed my breasts. Ta-ta-ta. A client held my face and kissed my mouth and licked my face. My face smelt like salted fish. Ta-ta-ta. A client slipped his hand behind my pants and fingered my ass. Ta-ta-ta. A client pulled me into the toilet, did the quickie (thank goodness, it last only few minutes), and then paid me RM 500 (very handsome payment from the least handsome man). Ta-ta-ta. A client, also grabbed me to the toilet, did the oral (didn’t last long either), and paid me RM 300. Ta-ta-ta. I gulped down glasses and glasses of alcohol to get drunk so that I could finish all these damn jobs. Ta-ta-ta. Alcohol alone didn’t work anymore. Took some soft subtances to boost the effect of alcohol. I wished all these men to be shot DEAD immediately.



And all the clients above were MARRIED men. And oh, how polite they looked in jacket, suit and ties. No tell-tale signs of any kinds of lechery before the party started. And who said they were only business men? The extreme cultured professionals like lawyers and doctors were also there, equally dog-lecherous. And not to mention, the local politicians. And their wives were so STUPID. They had miniscule idea that their husbands were lecherous towards the other younger, more beautiful women.



Many pig heads, esp. wives still do not believe all that I have said about husbands’ infidelity. You asked for it. Alright, I generously provide the concrete evidences. The 1st picture - Horikawa and I in Roppongi Japanese Lounge, Kuala Lumpur. 2nd picture – Horikawa and I holidaying in Penang. And 3rd, the priceless one, the Horikawa’s family picture – from left to right, Horikawa, Horikawa’s son, Hiro, Horikawa’s wife, Yoko, and Horikawa’s daughter, Masako.



Kozo Horikawa was a Japanese expatriate, working in a factory in Shah Alam. We met each other as client and hostess in Roppongi Lounge, year 1991. He was 41 and I was 21 years old. We cohabited from end of year 1991 to end of 1992, without his wife knowledge, although she had noticed something so twisted about his husband. She was then so twisted with her own suspicions.


When I see a bridal shower, I see BLOOD.


Continue above.

Wives Are Not Good enough - Part 2

These two rebuttals are published on 9th March 2003. Too bad, wives heads are like pinheads. They are extremely little informed, or they hardly notice what their husbands really need or want. Oh, probably they think being a good cook and a good mother are most virtuous thing of all, and those are perfection. Hey, why not strip off naked in front of the mirror and check carefully what are your imperfections that make your husband sneaks out to find other women, esp. younger and more beautiful ones?

Now I have reached my middle-age and no longer a youthful vixen. But I am deeply grateful that my position has been succeeded by the younger, more attractive, alluring, sophisticated and elegant nightclub hostesses. They are the newly metamorphosed colourful night butterflies of the New Millennium.

Loveeee to know the explicit things in and out of the nightclubs? Nightclubs clients were men from all corners of the worlds. Basically, these clients were nice and kind. They paid generously for the hugging, fondling and kissing. Sometimes I felt sympathetic with these men. They hugged and kissed us like long-time lovers. Noticeably, they are deprived from love and care, and needed other women to caress and console them. Sweeping their hair and lending our shoulders for them to lean on were enough to make them felt relieved and satisfied. They were also stressed out from their enormous works. They needed to de-stress and wind down. So, we were please to please them, our entire bodies belong to them that night.

And never forget, they were also FAMILY MEN, who loved their wives and children. After servicing them in hotel rooms or apartments/houses, they would share with me about their families. One client had shown me the baby shoes for his little son that he had bought. One client proudly informed me his daughter’s achievements in her piano lessons. One Singaporean client bought copies of Cosmopolitan magazines (which was banned in Singapore) esp. for his wife. Some clients gladly showed me the pictures of their wives, children and even pets. One client sent me to Chinatown taxi stand in the next morning and then hurried back home to send his children to school.

So, who says these so-called philandering men don’t love their wives and children? Who says these men do not care for their families? Who says family-ties are not important to them? Hey, men just need OTHER women to provide what their wives cannot provide for them.

So, those women who are madly want to get married, wearing the wedding gowns, who think marriages in made in Heaven, please bear in mind that your future husbands will be soon screwing other women. (Grace is grinning).

Wives Are Not Enough - Part 1

This article of mine appeared in The Star, 2nd March 2003. And I received the two angry rebuttals above, which was published a week later.

With the iced lemon tea on my table, sitting recklessly and shaking my legs, I’d like bring the entire issue up again - for I enjoy entertaining those who are extremely annoyed or disturbed with my former profession. (A sex worker for once, a sex worker forever).

Sometimes informing women, esp. wives about my work as commercial sex worker is nothing but a great satisfaction. I went a handicraft shop and greeted by the owner, Shelle, an intimidating lady with a sour smile. I had told her that I worked as a nightclub hostess in our last meeting, that probably the reason why she smelled like vinegar. She initiated a conversation and later, she turned infuriated, lashing out her inner frustrations. I knew it was her latent anger and discrimination towards my profession. Whoa, there she went, pointing finger, criticizing my attires and surprisingly revealing that her husband frequenting to Thailand! Her face turned as dark as Justice Bao, as if I had already oralled his husband, father and grandfather.

I spared several minutes observing her looks, short and stumpy body, movements and dressing sense. And these explained all. She had gained ample weight after giving birth to two daughters. Her belly was as huge as a pail. Her breasts sagged like deflated balloons. Her butts squared. Her attempts to follow the trendiest fashion failed terribly. So she looked like a huge tube of lard. No wonder her husband preferred Thai girls.

So, above is the illustration of a typical WIFE. Look at the key lines of my article – ‘Men somehow need to find other women to fulfill what they think their wives are not capable of providing’. So what wives are not capable of providing? I shall make every description very graphic, even wives vow to sue me after this. Anyway, these are words from an experienced sex worker.

Although attractiveness of other women may not be the reason for their husbands’ infidelity, but wives are STILL FAR UGLIER, FAR PUT-OFF. Read the details below and learn why husbands choose to have extra marital affairs or seek for sex workers’ services or simply stray, only to AVOID having sex with their wives.

. Wives would have all the hallmarks of childbirths – The stretch marks on abdomen. Usually with excessive skin and flesh, making it looks like deflated tyre hanging on the body. The sagging and shrinking breasts. They are so limp that they look like a pair of squeezed bananas. The darkened nipples and arm pits. The flattened butts, just like two blocks of tofus. They will put on weight. And the most significant is the loosening of their vaginas. Men far feel less stimulated with vaginas that have lost their grips. Screwing them are just like screwing plastic bags.

. Wives are not erotic. Ask them what is 69? They may know. Ask them if they will do it with their husbands. They will say NO. Ask them if they will do oral. Most will say NO. Ask them if they will swallow up semen. They will puke. Ask them if they will go naked in the kitchen. They will cover their bodies with woks and pans. Ask them if they will masturbate themselves in full view, to stimulate their husbands. They will be enraged like a hot skewer. Ask them if they will do the raping game. They will go insane. Ask them if they will do bondage. They will scream with horror. Ask them if they will have three-some. They will file a divorce.

. Wives have no sex appeal. After having children, do they have time for themselves? No. Do they know the latest lip gloss colors? No. Do they know the in-hairstyle? No. Do they have fashion sense? No. Do they know what is glamorous poise and alluring grace? No. Do they know how to converse eloquently and poke bar room jokes? No. Do they know what is sensuality and lustfulness? Completely no idea.

So my graphic descriptions above accomplish the second key line in my article – ‘A woman alone cannot fulfill her husband’s every need and desire, that is to be a good mother, a good cook, a good conversationalist and a good performer on bed’. Worth to ponder?