Moon My Arse

This evening there is a mooncake party. I will not be attending. I think mooncakes are overpriced diabetic time bombs that look like cow dung. Once upon a time, a woman made me walk all over Singapore with her to buy mooncakes for her f87ked up brother who would be arriving in Singapore the next day. I had to eat nearly 12 mooncakes before she made up her mind. When I protested, she hinted that I would be sleeping on the couch and not getting any luvving for at least a week if I didn’t cooperate. So this evening’s party is out of the question. Besides, mooncakes, lanterns and whatelse is so bleedin gay.
Damn I hate the mid-autumn festival.
Here are some good looking mooncakes.
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