A dear friend, whom i'll call Mandy, was bitching yesterday about people calling her an SPG (yes, wiki got definition of spg). "WHO CALLED YOU AN SPG?" i demanded, ready to club the culprit(s) over the head from 16,000 miles away. "aiya. people call you SPG also, you don't know meh?" she replied, oblivious to my attempt at expressing sistahhood solidarity.

"WHO CALLED ME AN SPG?!?" i demanded, with just a wee bit more conviction this time, and still thinking about the lethal miles-long club. And then i stopped and thought about it and replied that you know what? i didn't care. After all, i've left the country, probably wouldn't go back to live, and didn't give a rat's ass about what "the narrow-minded but broadly-educated (such a shame) people who i'm ashamed to call my countrymen and countrywomen thought." And that's what I told her and she said good for you, ting ting.

but i lie. I do care. These are supposed to be MY people. How could i have grown up in a country where i've acquired the knowledge and values that i have today, that also bred these idiots? how is it that foreigners and people in other civilised cities can go about their daily lives without batting eyelashes at inter-racial, or more specifically, white-man-asian-woman couplings? the prejudice may not be overt in SG because these people are smart enough to hide it when the situation calls for it, but its a damn pain in the ass.

Besides, I'm not an SPG. I don't wear sarongs (who still does, really?) and i don't really party that much and my taste in men are not limited to the melanin-challenged (i not that selective). I didn't think of my marriage as a ticket out, for in fact, i gave up being in (well, kinda). but then again, so what if i was an SPG? so what if i wanted to marry up and out? so what if i'm under the misconception that all white men had the ability to give me a better life than ah beng over there with his mitsubishi evo? And on this note, i say all straight-long-haired-little-black-dressed SPGs out there should get together and form a support group to educate the public about What SPGs Really Want and how there are other people more fun to take the piss at. like scary christians and taitais with big hair.

so ya. i admit i was a bit upset to be reminded about the SPG thing. But then i put in Barbra Streisand's Live at MGM Grand Concert, circa 1993, and like many a gay man at a show-tunes theme party, i was empowered. god, i love that woman... and if i can't stop people calling me an SPG, then i might as well just embrace the other side (tho i think real SPGs out there would scoff at my lack of street SPG cred). but if you must, call me an SPG all you want cos you know what? NOBODY's gonna rain on this SPG's parade.