The Dream Theme

These days, Stanley has taken to social media platforms to satisfy all his needs.

And that includes going into strangers' bedrooms to explore.

And not just bedrooms -- their kitchens, living rooms and toilets too.

"What theme should I have for my place?" Stanley randomly asked the group the other day.

Our sex bunny friend has recently decided to buy his own place now that property prices seem to be going down.

And in Stanley my sex bunny friend's world, going down almost always is a good thing.

"But god damn it, I can't do anything now thanks to this virus," Stanley typed in the group chat.

"Just to be sure, by virus, do you mean Covid, or some form of STD. 'Cos, you know, with you, we never know," I typed.

Carl our dense friend, who on normal days cannot keep pace with the world, was rightfully confused.

Stanley with Covid, STD, choosing a theme for a house (which, has he or has he not bought by the way?) was way too much information for him to process.

"What's happening, guys?" he asked genuinely. "What am I missing?"

For the last few weeks, Stanley had been revisiting his idea of a property purchase which was shelved for a few years because he was retrenched. 

But now that he's made a steady comeback, our friend decided to restart his engine.

And since he cannot make physical visits to view properties now, he's zeroing in on a theme for his future home.

Stanley is particularly fascinated with apps like Qanvast and has been keenly visiting Pinterest and IG to look at interior designs.

"There are so many things to decide on -- the style of your house, the theme, the décor, the tiles, the walls, the colour," wrote Stanley, overwhelmed.

Also overwhelmed was Carl.

"What is happening? You bought a place already Stan?"

Stanley responded with an eye-rolling icon instead of a gif 'cos that's just too much work.

"Carl, if your life were represented by just one computer key, it would have to be the question mark key," Stanley typed.

"?" wrote Carl.

I didn't know if Carl's response was a question or an acknowledgement.

"And if my life were to be represented by just one computer key, it would have be the enter key," Stanley pointed out.

"Enter, all ye who are men and handsome All are welcome," said Stanley who had gone off key in the group chat.

After patiently bringing Carl up to speed, Stanley carried on.

He showed us various photos, fascinated that some old resale HDB flats can be turned into wonderful living spaces.

As a home owner who had gone through the entire process of house hunting to interviewing interior designers and deciding on a theme, I gave Stanley my thoughts.

It would always make sense to design a house based on your lifestyle, I said.

So, if cooking is a large part of your life, you'll want to customise your kitchen to your needs -- such as setting aside enough space for baking or cooking big pots of stew.

And if you're big on dinner parties, you'll want to factor that into your home too: A cosy, dining corner that can host, say, dozens at one go.

A friend who is a big comics fan built a feature wall that also acts as a book shelf to show off his collections.

The basic rule is, no matter the theme of your house -- industrial, zen, Scandinavian -- the design of your house has to suit your lifestyle.

Stanley gave my advice some serious thought, and decided that it's vital his place has a corner for reading and viewing the sunset with a glass of whisky when he feels like it, as well as a large area for entertainment.

"Define entertainment," I ask, double-checking again, given Stanley's track record.

"Noun. The action of providing or being provided with amusement or enjoyment," Carl immediately wrote in an attempt to redeem himself and add value to the conversation which he often struggles to be a part of.

"I plan to have cement flooring like yours, Adam," said Stanley.

I'm glad Stanley likes the industrial look of my house (cement screed flooring and a cement screed feature wall, and lots of metal and wooden furniture pieces) because my partner J absolutely hates it.

J thinks my house is so cold and reminds him of his grandfather's warehouse.

"I love it 'cos it's so raw. And you know, in some cases, raw can be very exciting," Stanley said.

He then posts a series of toilet designs, wondering which ones would be best.

"Choose one that you'd be most comfortable with," I said, starting to get a bit tired of all this house design talk.

"Going by your advice, I might design my toilet to like a public urinal 'cos sometimes, you do find gems there," wrote Stanley who followed up with a gif of a man stuffing a popsicle in his mouth with one hand and gesturing a come-here with the other.

But it's way too early to decide on these things, Stanley concluded later.

"I haven't even started viewing properties," he wrote.

"YES! I knew it! I was right!" Carl said, feeling pleased with himself.

It's a small win. Our dense friend is doing his best.

"But one thing is for sure," Stanley said that night.

"When I have my own place, I will definitely have lots and lots of plants. The idea of having them in the house... having something alive and growing them can be so satisfying."

"Unlike a yeast infection."

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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people 

Circuit Break

I finally know how it's like to be on the cusp of a prison release.

After two months of staying home, I can't wait to get the hell out in the open.

To be free -- and legal at that -- at last!

Stanley my sex bunny friend knows exactly how I'm feeling.

"I know the pent-up emotions of waiting to release -- and when you finally get to do it, it's one big, happy gush," he said the other night over a three-way WhatsApp call with me and our dense friend Carl.

"And that feeling is definitely free, but I'm not sure if that's legal or not," Stanley added.

As usual, our slowpoke of a friend is confused.

"What's happening," Carl asked, as he mindlessly dug his ear and smelled his pinkie before flicking away what must be a sticky piece of ear wax.

"Carl!" Stanley screamed.

Our dense friend froze and looked at us timidly.

"Why did you flick that ear wax away?! It's a salty piece of gem! You shouldn't have wasted it! Next time, eat it!"

Our dense friend relaxed and melted into pure joy, clapping his hands with glee.

That night was one of our many, many three-way WhatsApp video calls in the last month.

And hopefully, the last.

And I'm starting to miss my boys very much and I want to see them in person.

At this moment, all three of us are in our respective homes.

Stanley is busy applying layer after layer of moisturiser on his face, his fringe pushed back by a hairband.

Carl, who had been digging his ears, has now moved on to his next regime of personal grooming: Trimming his nostril hair.

We got a full view of his snipping activity since Carl found that the iPhone camera was good enough as a mirror.

I was sitting on the balcony with a glass of Barefoot Shiraz and enjoying the breeze.

When this whole Circuit Breaker thing ends, what are the top few things you want to do for a week, I ask the boys.

"I want a few tops to do me for a week," Stanley said without missing a beat.

My best girlfriend Nisa listed the other day all the normal activities she's taken for granted but is now dying to do: Window shopping, café hopping, going to a salon for a full treatment.

My sex bunny friend Stanley too, wants to do the same: Window shopping (cruise around), café hopping (sleep around) and going to a salon for a full treatment (wash, blow, and a messy facial to end the entire session).

"When we are all legally allowed to get out, I'm gonna act like Ariel the mermaid who recently found legs -- I'll skip around town, bend over but to smell flowers, help children pick up their toys, twirl around the market and sing hello good morning to every uncle and aunty in the neighbourhood," said Stanley who stood up and skipped around his room to give us a preview of his musical production.

Carl the gym rabbit meanwhile, wants to act like he recently found not his legs but his arms.

Our Macho Mary friend is in dire need to give his deflating python-size arms a much-needed boost, given that he's not been lifting weights for at least two months.

"Darling, if you want to pump life into something, I can teach you many other ways to do just that. It will also involve grunting, sweating and definitely lots of swelling," Stanley said.

Carl physically retreated from his phone, repulsed by the idea of being taught Kamasutra moves by Stanley.

"I definitely want to go to the gym and make sure I get my arms back," Carl said with grim determination, and began flexing his arms in various positions.

"You know how, after a long time of being in outer space and you land on earth, you'll actually lose the sensation and ability to walk?" said Carl, who for once in his life is actually imparting nuggets of information to us.

Stanley waved his hand at his phone camera dismissively.

"That's utter rubbish," he said.

"I haven't used a certain part of my body in about two months, but that doesn't mean I'll forget how to use it. Trust me, it'll be like cycling. Once I find a sex partner after this Circuit Breaker and start to do it, it'll be like riding a bike," Stanley said, spouting words with multiple meanings.

"It's simple muscle memory."

Carl turned pale at that thought. If he himself has a weak memory to begin with, what more his muscles?!

He instinctively patted his biceps lovingly as if preparing to say goodbye to them.

"We should also all go out and have a nice meal," Stanley said.

"YES!" Carl and I said in unison.

It's been far too long since we had put on proper clothes and stepped out of the house.

We haven't groomed ourselves, sprayed perfume, styled our hair and gone out for a boys' night out in ages.

"I don't know if I'll fit into my jeans with all the eating," I said worriedly.

"I think my polo tees will be very loose on me," Carl said disappointedly, still patting his biceps.

"I don't know about my clothes, but for me, I'm pretty sure a certain part of my body has tightened up from disuse for months -- and I say it's about time to loosen it up with some meaningful activity," Stanley said.

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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people 

Stranger Things

One of the most mundane things when chatting up with strangers is getting questions like what are your hobbies. 

And Stanley my sex bunny friend is certainly not entertained by them.

In fact, in Stanley's world, entertainment is not defined by engaging in conversations because actions speak louder than words.

And when Stanley is speaking during actions, it's always very loudly, often expressed using a variety of vocalising techniques from moaning and groaning to emitting high-octave squeals inspired by crying girls in Jap porn movies.

"Why do people want to know about other people's hobbies," asked Carl the dense one -- whose only hobby is pumping iron in the gym -- taking a sip of his protein shake while resting in between his home workout.

"Exactly. Amen, sister," Stanley replied, raising his glass of red wine in his bedroom.

"It's 9am, Stan," I exclaimed into our group video call. "Why the heck are you drinking this early?"

"I'm Catholic, girl," Stanley snapped back, as if his by-birth religion gives him the birth right to drink.

"We don't call it the holy spirits for nothing," he reasoned.

"Plus, Jesus endorses alcohol. We are the only religion that drinks wine in sacred ceremonies. Some Taoists do too -- but they always spit out the wine unto lit candles to chase away Chinese zombies," said Stanley, professor in Religious Studies.

Carl cocked his head sideways as if he were digesting Stanley's argument, then let out a burp and said "man, this protein shake is filling".

"And," Stanley continued his line of argument.

"Jesus even made miracles by turning water into wine. If wine were harmful, Jesus would have turned the water into Coke Zero or something."

"What's wrong with Coke Zero," Carl the weight watcher asked, insulted by Stanley who's using the name of his favourite drink in vain.

"Anyway, let's not go off topic," says Stanley who started it all and wants to end it all, the way he treats all his potential dates.

"I'm just so fed up with people who can't hold a conversation," said Stanley, who is currently adopting a very safe approach to managing his sex life -- by going on Tinder and Grindr and, if things go well, move on to have cyber sex.

"So I've decided to turn the situation around. When someone asks me what my hobbies are, I'll ask them what their fetishes are -- like, do you drink sperm?"

Carl choked on his final sip of his protein shake, which sparked a series of heckling coughs.

"Eew, go away you disease spreader," Stanley said fanning his arms to clear the air in his own room.

Our Saturday group chat ended unceremoniously.

Later, Stanley's topic got me thinking.

Fetishes.

It's something that is not often talked about.

So I thought, hey, this is something I should write about.

And so I turn to Stanley whom I'm tight buddies with, for further consultation.

"Darling, firstly, may I please suggest you never again coin us as tight buddies, because that's wrong on all levels," Stanley said when I messaged him for blog advice.

"Face it, both of us are no longer tight anymore for reasons you and I are acutely aware of.

"And I can't look at you to think you and I are buddies of any sort because in my dictionary," Stanley said, stressing the dic syllable for effect, "buddies are those who share very exciting benefits."

It's the price I have to pay for consulting Stanley, who never fails to turn anything sexual.

To him, everything is R-rated.

When I was still working in Singapore, our regular Saturday night dinners with Stanley is always a sexual experience.

First there's the harassment of cute waiters (Oh darling, that server's pair of pants is so tight I can hardly breathe) and fellow cute diners (OOooooo, look at that lean daddy -- can dinner be on you?).

And then, Stanley takes it to the next level by even turning inanimate objects into sex.

I simply love spoons and forks. 
Is it me or does the leg of that table look like a big, fat dick.
Oh, look at my runny egg yoke... waiter, this cum seems expired -- it's extremley yellow. 

But it's worth it.

"All fetishes boil down to childhood experiences or sexual awakenings," said Stanley.

Some people have SM tendencies.
Ohers have soft spots for labourers.
Then are those who have fetishes for cum-eating.
And those who have a kinky liking for women's underwear.

"You name it," Stanley said, as if he were giving an online lecture.

"But these fetishes all are linked to the deepest recesses of our minds."

"Think of the human mind as a house. It has several rooms and in each room, we have storage space: Cabinets, drawers, rusty tin biscuit boxes where your granny keeps cash, and her dildo."

"But some storage spaces can spark off knock-on effects," Stanley said.

I wasn't quite following, but I waited.

"For example, you use the fridge as a storage space for meat. But somehow, that fridge short-circuited so there's no power. Naturally, the meat will rot and it will of course give off toxicity."

"And let's say you have a cardboard box placed on top of the fridge... because of the fridge condensation, that storage box starts to get damp and moist -- which, Adam, in another context can be a really good, sexual thing.

"Eventually, the fridge degenerates and the cardboard box starts to rot and whatever is inside the box also starts to fester," Stanley said.

Think of the fridge and cardboard box as storage for our childhood or early sexual memories... because of the power trip -- which in the real world can be interpreted as any form of experience -- the memories become contaminated."

"For instance... as a child, let's say you caught a glimpse of your cute next-door neighbour boy crush being caned by his dad -- on his bare buttocks. While that is a scary experience, the fact that it's your boy crush being caned and you're seeing his cute buttocks at that is a mix of guilty pleasure.

"Eventually, that forms the root of your future fetish -- SM tendencies because you relate your sexual experience to your early memories."

I was truly enlightened.

"Stan, did you take any psychology modules in uni by any chance," I ask, truly impressed.

"No -- and it's my talent. I can't even say it's common sense because it takes only truly intellectual and sexual people like me to come up with such analysis," said Stanley, who couldn't resist stressing the word anal for effect.

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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people 

Zoom Dinner With The Boys

And.... we're online.

After dealing with tech issues -- mic volume, lagging platforms and frozen visuals -- Stanley, Carl and I are finally starting our Zoom dinner.

Thanks to current rules that forbid any type of human interaction, my gay best friends and I have jumped on the bandwagon of catching up and doing all things Zoom.

Zoom work meetings, Zoom drinks, Zoom dinners.

My uni classmate Sasa has taken it to a whole new level, doing Zoom yoga with an instructor who gives tips real-time.

Not to be outdone, Stanley my sex bunny friend invented Zoom dates. 

"It's basically going on first dates with your Tinder matches," Stanley explained, setting his table for our Zoom dinner. 

"And it's so hot and sexy."

"Think about it. We are meeting for the first time. And we are forced to engage with each other using wits and charm and showing off personalities and intellect. And the fact that intimacy and sex are off the table all the more makes such Zoom dates hot and sexy," Stanley said.

Carl looked up from his table and frowned, clearly starting to worry about our evening's dinner topic. 

"Chicken or fish?" Carl said chirpily in an attempt to start dinner on a wholesome note, holding up both deep fried morsels with each hand.

"Spoon or fork?" Stanley the sex bunny responded sultrily. 

For dinner, Carl ordered Korean fried chicken (thanks to cravings from his newfound hobby of watching Korean dramas on Netflix) and threw in air-fried fish fingers for variety. 

Stanley meanwhile, cooked a one-pot meal for himself, pouring peas, carrots, chopped luncheon meat into his rice cooker.

"I am so talented," Stanley said.

"You should be. All witches are good with their cauldrons," I said dryly.

"If we are witches,  then surely I'm Sabrina 'cos I'm so damn hot and sexy. Carl the dense one will be Wendy the Witch who gets all her spells mixed up," Stanley said, pleased with himself. 

"You, Adam Lee, will be a classic witch, the type who has a crooked nose and wears a pointed hat and -- Carl, what the heck are you wearing?" 

Carl beamed and asked: "Nice?"

"No.... please sit down and never ever prance around in your yellow Sponge Bob Square Pants boxers. Promise me you will burn that vile thing after our Zoom meeting," said Stanley. 

Soon, we gathered in front of our computers, ready to start dinner. 

It's surreal. 

We would never have believed that someday, our friendship would live to see this day, where, instead of hanging out in person at some pretentious eating place, we're each in the comfort -- and safety -- of our own place.

"These days when I get out to buy food, I see so many hot guys, and there's this extra layer of mystery, which makes me want to rip off these cute guys' masks followed by their skimpy army singlets," Stanley said hungrily, officially starting the dinner topic rolling.

Carl, who can talk about sex anytime of the day except during meals, slumped his shoulders dramatically, his python-size biceps throbbing with disapproval.

"What if, after ripping off their masks, you find that they have buck teeth?" Carl asked, hoping to switch gears.

Stanley paused, digesting this food for thought. 

"You are right," Stanley said, adding "and this is worth discussing further."

Carl looked at me worriedly

"I think in general, a man has to be judged as a whole -- though some guys are judged as a hole," Stanley said, unable to help himself. 

"Think of a man like a test that has different sections. Section A -- the face, comprises 30 marks. Section B -- the body, 70 marks."

"And if you build a good bod, you naturally score full marks for section B so even if you fail Section A miserably and get zero, you still get an A2 for the overall result."

"This is why even if you have an ugly face like Adam's, if you work hard and build up your body, you still can pass your gay looks exam."

Carl immediately put down his fried chicken drumstick, and used his oily fingers to do some mental calculation.

"I don't know what logic or what test this is," I said coldly. 

"You didn't attend Gay Academy -- that's why you have no idea what I'm talking about."

Carl stopped counting and looked quizzically at Stanley. 

"Every boy who realises he's gay would receive an invitation from his Gay Drag Mother to attend the Gay Academy where he would learn everything, from Fashion 101 to Body Building modules, before choosing his specialty in his final year."

Carl, who loves listening to stories, clapped his greasy hands. 

"I scored full marks for every subject in the Gay Academy and I was the top student," Stanley said, dribbling a lone eyebrow suggestively at the word top.

Carl burst out laughing, spewing tiny morsels of chicken bits into the air.

"Carl obviously scored nearly full marks for his Body Building module."

As if on cue, Carl flexed his python size biceps and said excitedly: "Look, I have at least an A2 for Section B!"

"Meanwhile, Adam, you obviously were homeschooled so you skipped all the Year One modules."

"You missed the fashion, body building, skin care and gay pop culture modules obviously. Fortunately for you, you did fairly well for your Year Two gay modules, particularly in the intellectual subjects of arts and literature." 

I rolled my eyes and helped myself to a forkful of sambal kangkong. 

While we were still on the topic of looks, Stanley paused eating and showed us a graph.

"This is how the Japanese categorise looks," he said, making full use of Zoom's technology to show us his computer screen. 

It was a chart that comprises nine drawings:

• Bulky Bison (a rhino)
• Wild bear 
• Chubby piggy
• Muscle wolf
• Athlete Kong (a chimpanzee) 
• Sporty panther 
• Lonely dog (which looks like a cute puppy)
• Cool monkey
• Slim cat

Gay Academy top student Stanley Ong, who scored full marks in Japanese gay pop culture, continued his presentation. 

"Generally the Japanese categorise looks using these charts. The most popular types of looks are the Wolfs and Dogs."

"Carl, you're a muscle wolf. I'm a combination of a sporty panther, lonely dog and a cool monkey."

"Adam... you're so unique you're literally out of the box. You belong to none of the above, and therefore, for your own sake, you should never step foot into Japan."

"I partially agree -- Carl is a wolf, but you're somewhat like a dog. A bitch to be exact."

Carl laughed, truly entertained by our exchanges and clapped his greasy hands for the second time of the evening. 

Ignoring me, Stanley conjured a photo of a half-naked Japanese man.

He has chiselled cheek bones, nicely trimmed facial hair, defined muscles and large, piercing eyes.

Apparently, this guy's eyes aren't the only things that are large and piercing. 

Oh, he's also dead.

"This is Jap porn star Koh Masaki who is a classic example of a wolf," Stanley said. 

"I know him!" said Carl the dense one, who cannot name at least three of Singapore's past presidents.

"Sadly, he's dead. Died some years ago," Stanley said, making the sign of the cross. 

"I really feel for his partner," I chimed in. 

"Yes, it's very sad," said Carl, who carried on biting off the cartilage of his drum stick, making crunchy noises as he chewed.  

The late Japanese porn star Masaki was partnered to a hot China man when he died.

Stanley revealed that he mourned the porn star's death by watching all his past movies for two weeks. 

"You know what's sadder?" Stanley asked.

Carl was too scared to answer so he focused on stuffing an entire fish finger into his mouth instead. 

"Masaki's China partner died years later in a car accident!"

Carl stopped chewing and thought about the topic, unsure if we had gone from wet dreams to nightmares. 

"Oh, that's new to me," I said. 

I've always had a fascination of gay people who die and leave their loved ones behind. 

This is why, for years, I've been intrigued by the love life of the late Hong Kong movie star Leslie Cheung who jumped to his death on April Fool's day, leaving behind his (equally hot) banker boyfriend Daffy Tong. 

By now, Carl had lost focus of the topic and could no longer multitask by holding a conversation and eating, so he chose to work on his fourth fried chicken wing. 

"This porn star death and his partner's death... it's so bitter sweet," Stanley said. "I wonder if they would meet in heaven."

"Speaking of which," Stanley said, brightening up. "This makes for a good porn film. You have hot guys, you have the elements of romance, horror, and of course, the essential climax and a happy ending."

Carl stopped chewing and waited for more indications before deciding on his next move. 

"And if we have cross-racial porn stars, we can name the horror porn movie 'Pacific Rim'," Stanley said proudly. 

Carl took the cue and took a sip of beer to drown his sorrows. 

"What happened to your diet, Carl? Why are you eating fried food and drinking beer?"

Carl, whose staples are mainly protein and never carbs, smiled guiltily.

"I have been watching Crash Landing On You and I have since picked up the bad habit of eating Korean fried chicken thanks to the show," Carl said sheepishly.

"THAT is your takeaway?! You watched that whole series that features hot and sweaty cute North Korean soldiers and fried chicken is the only thing you want to put in your mouth? You're hopeless," Stanley scolded. 

Carl pouted, put down his fried chicken wing, and chomped on the fish finger for the time being, to avoid further trouble.

By the time we were done with our respective dinners, Stanley was groaning like he needed exorcism by a priest.

"I am so full," he said in a low guttural voice. 

Carl stood up and began doing squats.

"Carry on talking, I'm just trying to digest my food immediately," our dense friend said in between each set. 

"I can't focus with your family jewels bouncing in your shorts. I beg of you Carl... either stop or put a bullet into my head," said Stanley, who continued to sound like he was possessed by an inhuman entity. 

Eventually, the poor connection on Zoom forced all of us to hang up and move on with our lives.

Before we knew it, we had spent three-and-a-half hours with one another on Zoom.

It was like any good old Saturday night -- it started off with us talking about sex, before winding down to more serious topics.

By the end of our Zoom dinner, we all came to realise just how much we've missed one another. 

This Circuit Breaker period is pushing us to new boundaries.

To tap technology and continue keeping in touch with our loved ones.

"I would never imagine that one day, we have to meet via some online platform like Zoom," I wrote on WhatsApp in our group chat that night.

"I certainly miss you boys and I hope all of us continue to be safe. We'll get through this."

Carl replied with the gif of Xena the Warrior Princess raising her sword.

Stanley, who was slightly tipsy by then, posted a gif of the Golden Girls coming together for a group hug. 

"Be safe boys," he wrote.

"I would never imagine that one day, being safe means donning masks, and not condoms."

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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people

Reinventing Our Lives

The best way to convince yourself to stay at home during this period is to imagine there are zombies running around, waiting to bite you, says Stanley my sex bunny friend.

"And trust me, in another context, the prospects of a wild, hungry and stiff crowd chasing after me and wanting to sink their teeth into my fair and firm backside turns me on," Stanley typed in our group chat titled "Just the Boys".

"Like Kingdom!" chimed in our dense friend Carl, who recently discovered Netflix.

Indeed, I feel like I'm in the cast of a Hollywood film where my community is infested with zombies, and I'm going out only at certain times of the day to quickly loot the local supermarket, making a point to also load up on batteries and random electronic gadgets so that I can fashion makeshift communicative devices and reach out to other stranded survivors.

It's not easy changing our lifestyle amid this new "circuit breaker" month, a term coined by our government to get us to stay the heck at home to break the virus transmission.

These days, most of us work from home.

And although I'm back in Singapore and sorely miss my partner J and my boys Stanley and Carl, we've chosen to wait it out and put off all physical meetings (even before they were made illegal by the government).

In fact, we've been on Zoom so many times that even if we're not turning into zombies outside, we're turning into Zoobmies in the confinement of our respective homes.

The other day, Stanley captured a screen grab of one such meeting -- my partner J, Carl our dense friend and me looking stoned in our respective zoom boxes -- and captioned it "Daze of Our Lives".

"It is super hard," Stanley complained the other day.

"And trust me, I never thought I would use the words 'super hard' in such a context," wrote Stanley who is obviously on a dangerously dry spell.

But we all do what we can.

Carl our dense friend, who's also a gym rabbit, has taken to torturing himself, groaning and moaning in his living room with YouTube tutorial videos.

Stanley the sex bunny has also taken to torturing himself, also groaning and moaning in his bedroom but with other types of tutorial videos.

To each his own.

Point is, we do what we can to survive and thrive.

During this period, some of us have developed habits that are actually good.

My sis, for instance, has taken to cooking.

That woman never had to cook all her life.

Even as a working adult, she had free meals at her tech company (and it's actually really, really good).

But now that she's working from home too, my sis has been experimenting with different kinds of recipes.

Paella was on our dinner menu last evening.

On other days, we decide to give in to our own cravings.

She ordered pizza to reward herself from a sweaty session of home-based yoga, while I ordered Indian food.

"I had craving for Briyani the other night so I ordered it on Food Panda the next day," I updated the group of every of my daily decisions, a habit I formed since I started confining myself to my sister's apartment.

"I also have craving -- can I order a Food Panda guy online?" Stanley responded, doing his part to supply us with useless facts.

My partner J is also benefitting during this period.

As a responsible citizen, he rarely steps out of his apartment except to buy food and exercise.

My partner J, who was an avid footballer and hockey player in his secondary school and JC days, and a one-time competitive swimmer in his early adulthood, has not been exercising regularly.

Thanks to this circuit breaker period, J has picked up the habit of outdoor running (alone, of course).

The other night, I was chatting with J online when he took off his top to show me what two months of exercising has done for him -- once again, my partner is athletically lean and has abs.

Oh how I wish this circuit breaker thing will end soon.

Meanwhile, on a more wholesome note, Carl the dense one is really taking this time to reinvent himself.

Our friend is revisiting his old hobby of baking.

Yes, our bulky friend who has biceps the size of obese pythons, can lift 80kg of pure iron on some days, and can, if he so chooses to, also gently knead dough like Teatime Party Barbie.

Among the goodies Carl has baked in his lifetime included chocolate brownies (one of his first attempts in his youth), as well as fruit cakes.

Last week, Carl took photos of his kitchen, showing us how well-stocked his cabinet is.

There are at least seven different types of flour, three brands of rainbow crinkles, multiple bottles of food dyes and also various types of chocolates.

"Are you being hired by the Hansel and Gretel witch to build another candy house?" Stanley asked.

Carl, who has no childhood memory nor can he sing any nursery rhyme, did not reply.

"God, if you do build such a house, you'll be under the sex offender's watch list -- watch out children. Pervert uncle on the loose," wrote Stanley who is losing control of himself.

Earlier this morning, Carl snapped a photo of yet another type of flour, telling us he's buying it to bake bread.

"Easy, crazy flour lady," Stanley wrote. "How many types of flour do you need?!"

"I need the yeast for bread," Carl wrote.

"Oh girl. In my heydays, I don't even have to buy yeast. It comes to me naturally," said Stanley who obviously needs to get some action right now.

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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people