Friday, 18 Nov 05

Sexpo!

Posted in Musings at 11:48 pm by jadeite

Sexpo Day One:

Note to self: things go wrong when I’m put in front of a calculator. Sums will not add up. Books will not be balanced. Large sums of money will appear from nowhere; then, at the next counting, will disappear completely.

Note to self: let other people do the math.

So today was pretty fun! I’m too tired to do a real recap but here are the highlights:

1) I felt guilty as I censored the display. Apparently our cautious and extremely prudish gahmen decreed that while we can hold Sexpo and display an ancient Chinese collection of sexual art, we have to obscure all the bits showing penetration. So I found myself tacking double sided tape onto old pottery to ‘blur’ out the penetration bits. We were already in the R21 section, yet this stupid bit of closed-mindedness caused people to miss out on seeing the art collection in its full, splendiferous, no-wonder-Chinese-people-are-so-populous-if-the-ancients-were-so-horny glory. I really don’t get it. What was the point of the R21 section, again? I don’t see how this is supposed to make Singapore more open about such things when any average Singaporean can yank free hardcore porn off the Net, but when they pay $15 for a sex exhibition, they are not allowed to see gentle pictures of ancient Chinese lovemaking. Explain please.

2) A large, marble, horse-headed dildo. Also of Chinese make. No wonder they needed the one-child policy. My ancestors were horny folks.

3) Large groups of old men sniggering and blushing at graphic contents of Taiwanese sex manuals. “Er, xiao jie, what’s the difference between the red and yellow books?” Me (with a straight face): “The yellow one is more for details on giving and receiving pleasure in specific erogenous zones, the red one is more about positions and ways to spice up your sex life.” Imagine, I had to figure out a way to say that in Chinese to a bunch of old men.

4) Old man: “If the book doesn’t work for me can I return it tomorrow? But it may be a bit dirty, hurhur, *nudge nudge*, because do halfway must flip book hands sure get sticky sticky one. But if it doesn’t work can return hor.” Me: *horrified laugh*

5) Pole dancers used to grab the crowd before the talks start. And boy, can that girl pole dance, in a skirt that was so short the men were gawking at her bum cheeks from below the stage. Wooo. Oh, and a dunking machine, where the dunkee is a girl clad in a white t-shirt.

6) Learning different kama sutra positions: The Tigress, The White Tiger, The Yob Yom, The Black Bee, A Silkworm Spinning a Cocoon, The Perfumed Garden, Caressing the Delicate Flower, Cicada on a Bough, The Placid Embrace, Kama’s Wheel, Exotique, Jardinier. Snickering with Ying about each one (what if the guy thrusts too hard? Won’t she break her nose on the floor?). Learning to rearrange the sex furniture to accommodate each position.

7) Trying to help a woman who hasn’t orgasmed, ever, in thirty years of marriage, and who hopes that a gimmicky set of sex furniture will “help my husband hit my G-spot”. Trying not to cry when she looks at you with sad, yet hopeful eyes and earnestly asks for my opinion whether the pillow will help. Assuring her that it could, and telling her that relaxing in bed will help too; and feeling woeful at how bad her situation could be if she’s trusting a 21-year-old salesgirl for advice.

More tomorrow.

Nights.

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