believe me when i say that the most bizarre thoughts cross my mind when i'm in the midst of sweaty hotel room sex. maybe it's the very nice view of the nanny state's skyline, or perhaps it's just the memory pillows and five-thousand thread count comforters, but inspiration tends to hit at the most unexpected of moments. just last week, it was while lying uncomfortably on one of those pillows that had memorized the shape of my partner's gluteals, that the following thought suddenly crossed my mind:

phwoar. this guy has no gag reflex man.

of course, this post is not going to be about gag reflexes because it's difficult to write a wordy and theoretical post about deep throating. things like that are best tackled during practical sessions in a seedy budget hotel. it was after the deep throating and the 'mundanaties' of sex that while lying on a fresh pillow and listening to the pitter-patter of the other guy's pee splattering in the toilet that a more philosophical thought flashed in my head:

having too much sex really cheapens the whole act of it.

i have a feeling that many of us homosexuals or even the occasional nymphomaniac female can relate to a statement like this. then again, if you are wondering why you don't understand a single iota of the above statement, perhaps you need to ask yourself questions loosely paraphrased from the language of denial: 'Am i still considered by the general human population to be a virgin?'

and i use the term 'virgin' here very freely because in our modern day and age of liberalism, it is with much difficulty that one defines a virgin. i personally know of someone who considers himself a virgin even though he has received numerous blowjobs from various genders of the human races. but still, if the answer to the above statement is YES (i'm still a through and through virgin), or if you're in denial about it, OR if you're a regular reader of this blog, OR if you popped by here and bothered to read this post because you saw the words 'bubble tea' in the header and are curious to find out what sorta bullcrap Jon can spin out of a topic like that... then let me suggest that you take a gander, light up a cigarette, grab some coffee, and let me humor you for the next five minutes (depending on whether you can speed read or not).

for the rest of the night, the sex seemed to be very much interrupted by the occasional thoughts of how i could 'metaphorize' the act of sex being cheapened. not that sex costs a lot in the first place because condoms are cheap and a combined effort of spit from both parties make really good lubricant. it wasn't until much deep thought and perhaps even deeper throating that 'bubble tea' came to mind. and yeah, it was at that point that i came as well.

the bubble tea craze that was all the rage amongst the kids back in the late 90s. the late 90s for me though were really bitter-sweet ones. it was all about puberty, hormones, hair sprouting in the most bizarre places, the discovery of the pleasures of masturbation, etc. come to think of it, the only reason why it was so sweet was mainly due to the bubble tea. it was mostly bitter when i think back to the upper secondary school days. one particular incident that made me live in fear came to mind. apparently, i made the stupid attention-seeking mistake of declaring to a pair of heterosexual alpha males (HAMs) that i was the proud owner of a nipple piercing. i couldn't help but that that on that fateful day conversations like the one below were held on regular five minutes intervals:

(heterosexual alpha males at the school basketball court playing soccer; don't ask me, i rarely played sports during those schooling days)

HAM #1: Hey, pass me the ball.
HAM #2: No, pass me the ball.
HAM #3: Hoi (HAM #2's name)! Ball! Here!
HAM #4: No lah! Here! Pass me the fucking ball!

it may not look like anything was relayed, but believe me when i say that the underground HAM gossip network is an extremely subtle and potent one. before i knew it, there were enough boys in school who knew about 'a certain weak spot on this Jonathan's chest that can bring him to his knees in seconds'. i have to thank God (literally) for the precious pocket-sized Gideon's Bible which acted as my shield and my strength during those secondary school days. not only was it a staple must-have for every student during the daily assembly, it also acted as a subtle-yet-tactical pinch-proof layering that prevented quite a fair bit of aesthetic damage to my upper torso. i completed secondary school still with two nipples intact, albeit a tad larger in size and definitely more protruding than i remembered it to be.

but piercings aside, my upper secondary school days were definitely better than the lower secondary or the primary for that matter. those were the days that i was armed with a tad more leeway in terms of monetary independence. this led me to splurging daily on bubble tea, which was the craze back then. the high content of sugar and carbs coupled with the intense frequency i was consuming bubble tea led to me becoming rather 'gay-unfriendly' fat, on top of already being a 'gay-deterring' pimply geek from Nerdom. the end result? bad sex from older men of similar (or if not larger) body-builds as i was and plenty of second-hand smoke that i must have inhaled while cruising in the toilets.

looking back, the main target of the bubble tea craze in Singapore was the youngsters of the late 90s like me. back then, bubble tea had to compete with Playstation 2, Pokemon, the Gameboy Advance and many other electronic paraphernalia. setting the general pricing of a cup of milk tea with pearls at $1.80 (inclusive of an extra 30 cents worth of extra pearls) was truly a ripoff. even the adolescent child who spends a fair portion of his weekly allowance of Pokemon cards (like me) would know that. but which peer-pressured secondary school kids could resist the 'coolness' of being seen drinking the 'in' beverage of the 90s that was not only cheaper than a grande mocha frap or a regular McDonald's iced milo for that matter?

it started with one particular brand of bubble tea that hit the local scene. they had the card-stamping concept whereby for each bubble tea that you bought, you earned a stamp on a card. with ten stamps, you could exchange the card for a regular-sized bubble tea with no extra pearls. Singaporeans, being the kiasu hoarders that they are, couldn't resist this concept of free stuff. within months, the many entrepreneurial-minded people started setting up different chains of bubble tea stalls, all of them selling THE SAME type of bubble tea with THE SAME different variety of flavors at THE SAME prices and THE SAME concept of ten stamps for free regular bubble tea.

it was a tragic overkill because soon enough, the same kids that made bubble tea rise, bought and brought it to its rather swift and premature death. the pleasantly sweet taste of milk tea turned into a sickly-sweet one reminiscent of a drink that had six parts syrups to one part water. kids bought bubble tea not for the tea, but for the bubble that could double up as weapons of mass irritation. i remember a bunch of friends who would purchase cups of bubble tea (with the extra 30 cents worth of pearl), take the elevator to the highest level in a shopping mall, and start sniping their way at other unsuspecting members of the general public. the streets were usually littered with pearls, milk tea remnants and empty bubble tea cups. it was with that, that large chains of bubble tea shops started closing down and with the crossing of millennium, the bubble tea fad passed.

it's rather sad but this concept of having too much of a desired item at too often a frequency is very much true for sex. teenage millionaires, kids with platinum spoons (and perhaps various other child-proof cutlery) in their mouths, (insert random addiction) anonymous members, etc. if you have been following my blog for quite some time, you would have almost realized by now, that my version of 'sex' tends to veer towards the deviant. frankly, there isn't anything revolving around sex that i haven't tried other than animals and the vage. light bondage, authoritarianism, one night stands with strangers, the great outdoors, chem sex, etc. couple this gutsiness with my 'everything must try at least once' policy in life and you have someone who's willing to experiment when the opportunity (or whatever that is in one's pants arises).

that night, at the hotel room, i didn't fall asleep. i was thinking how sex seems to be not as fulfilling these days. i was bored of going through the entire routine of kissing, getting blown, reciprocating, doing the topping, coming and then cuddling each other to sleep. as i shifted to a comfortable position in the bed and placed the many pillows around to facilitate sleep, i couldn't help think that i was really getting bored of something that i used to like so much. oh well, i still can't complain about the deep-throating and the wonderful memory pillows though. i fell asleep that night with the pillows, one of them having memorized the shape of my head.

and i'm not talking about the thing that sits on top of my shoulders.

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