On Valentine's Day last year, I wrote about J and my love story.
I love my partner of 19 years to bits and while I can write about us to no end, I've decided to dedicate today's post to my friends.
The stars of my blog, Stanley the sex bunny and Carl the dense one.
Without whom, I would have no materials nor topics to write about.
And since the theme is love, this piece is about why I love these two to bits too.
Although with Stanley the size queen, it's never about the bits.
The hunkier, the better in fact.
The star of my blog has been known for his sexual adventures.
He has slept with one and all during his thirsty thirties and shows no sign of slowing down in the next decade.
The next 10 years are my fuckable forties, he once famously declared.
But sexual energy isn't Stanley's main strength.
Nor is his random humour (anything that comes out of Stanley's mouth is almost always sex related. Likewise, anything that goes into Stanley's mouth is also almost always sex related).
True, my fey friend has a sharp sense of humour and can read the room well enough to inject appropriate doses of fun to either break awkwardness or ramp up the partying scale.
But those aren't the reasons I love Stanley.
Sure -- he's definitely fun to hang out with. You can always count on him to make you laugh (and if you're his type, I'm told he can make you feel a lot of other things too).
And while Stanley sheds clothes easily, what he doesn't readily reveal to the rest of the world is his sense of loyalty and acute level of sensitivity.
Ever since I knew Stanley in NS, I have never known him to be one to judge (except when it comes to perky asses and when he's on Grindr).
I love Stanley because when you tell him something serious, he listens.
He throws in a joke here and there, but you're sure that Stanley listens to your problems and doesn't pass his own assessment of you.
He's also known to stand by his friends in times of need -- whether it's financial, emotional or especially sexual. He's always ready to give.
Despite his sexual ways, Stanley is the most loyal, most faithful lover when he's in a relationship. A rare quality, considering.
And these are some of the reasons I love Stanley to bits.
As for Carl the gym rabbit, it's also never about the bits.
The hunkier, the better in fact.
All his life, Carl the dense one had dedicated most of his waking hours to beefing up.
While the rest of the world is out working, he's mostly working out.
We suspect all the pumping is causing imbalanced development to his brain 'cos all the blood's going to his python sized biceps (Stanley, for one, agrees. He knows that over-pumping one part of the body will result in a lot of blood flow to the area, but let's not digress. This portion is about Carl).
All his life, Carl the dense one had been slow to the world.
I mean, he's not stupid. He is intellectual. Otherwise, he wouldn't have graduated from university with a good degree -- and he speaks fluent French, plays the piano well and has the vocals of an angel.
But Carl tends to be rather slow in general.
He is always the last to read the room, always the last to keep up with conversations.
When we were in our early 20s, Carl had once pointed out in public that he had never seen such a huge violin in his entire life. When we turned to look, we realised the poor child was talking about a cello -- and he wasn't even being funny.
But as with all goons, Carl is good natured.
The kind who mean well and can grin back at you heartily even when you're making fun of him. That, or the poor fella doesn't even realise what's going on.
And it's this kind nature of Carl that I have come to love. That, although he's always in a world of his own, he's always there for you if you shake him up and wake him from his stupor for him to focus on the task at hand (such as when we are all waiting for him to order his dish at the restaruant).
Of course, Carl is also always dependable when heavy lifting needs to be done.
He had on more than one occasion put his swollen biceps to good use by prying open durians, opening ketchup bottles and carrying a drunken Stanley on his shoulders, lifting our friend onto his shoulders as if he were a limp bolster.
But most of all, I love Carl because he's always there when you need him (as long as you shake him up like how you'd activate your PC on screen saver mode).
I had known both Stanley and Carl for over 20 years -- longer than I had been with my partner J.
Looking back, we had all grown up together.
From the time we were sweet young things in our early twenties to now greying daddies in our forties.
We had seen one another fall in love, fall out of love. We had been to wild drunken parties together (especially at the now-defunct Niche club), attended each other's graduation ceremonies, clinked glasses over our first jobs, travelled way too often on carefree holidays, lent shoulders to one another when tears need to be shed, gave the other party a firm, helping hand when we need to be pulled out of our ruts.
We had celebrated countless birthdays, festivals, and any other momentous event.
And on this Feb 14, our 23rd Valentine's Day as three best friends, I want to say to you both, Stanley and Carl, I love you.
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