She is the epitome of perfection, and the embodiment of hope. She seemed like the 9th Wonder of the world. She has every physical quality and attribute that constitutes to the word 'beauty'. Her mere presence exudes an aura so divine and unmitigated, it attracts the attention of swarms of hungry men. She is no doubt the source of aesthethic admiration, and the pillar of intellectual appreciation.

These were the orchestra of emotions that filled my pumping ventricles when i first had a glance at this extraordinary lady at Clarke Quay. She was tall, elegant and well-poised as she leaned against a large pillar. She was definitely a million rungs hotter than the average female.

Being a male with hormones that rages so bad, i couldnt take my eyes off her. I even went to the extent of getting nearer to take a closer look at her impeccable facial features (and body parts, ofcourse). I even pretended to walk past her. I inched closer, camping at a dark corner watching her. I had to admire her from head to toe, and BOY, was i proud of my manhood.

Minutes later, she took out a ciggaratte and ransacked her LV bag frantically, probably looking for a lighter. Having realised that she did not have one, she waited for a passerby to borrow a lighter from.

As she approached a passerby and opened her mouth to speak, my hair immediately stood on its ends. A fucking cold chill went down my spine. My heart missed a few beats and I believed it stopped pumping. She had a male voice. IT sounded like a cow being slaughtered and as i looked closer at IT, ITS face seemed like a walking cosmetic set. IT's so heavily made up, you could blow on ITS face and experience a sandstorm, i mean a powderstorm. It was a fucking tranny. Argh. I felt so disgusted having admired a male from head to toe that it had an effect on my little josh. It couldnt function as an Eifle Tower for the next few days.

From that day onwards, I became very wary towards people that i'm checking out. What a lesson. Fuck.