Spandex Party Boy

Context for the following conversation: Not content with his previous dangerous pastimes of flying, skiing, hunting and polo, Alec is currently learning boxing. Because, of course, he already has an excellent memory, and is not scatter-brained at all, and never does anything that horrifies his girlfriend with its complete gobshiteness such as losing her library books, or nearly leaving her house to walk home after midnight while his wallet, keys and handphone are still upstairs in her room, or thinking he can windsurf when he hasn’t windsurfed since he was twelve, subsequently necessitating the rescue boat, and so he can therefore CLEARLY, CRYSTAL-CLEARLY afford the potential brain damage…

Um, where was I? Oh yes – I was meaning to explain that for boxing training, he needed to buy a skipping rope the other day. In case you guys thought he was a paedophile.

Alec: When I was paying for my skipping rope at World Of Sports the cashier asked me if I needed anything else and I said, yes actually, I could do with a pair of black shorts. So he went and brought me a pair, they were black, medium sized, price was okay, so I bought them too. Trouble was, when I got home and looked at them a bit closer, they were made of this rather stretchy…
Me: Oh dear.
Alec: …spandex material.
Me: Oh God.
Alec: I tried them on and they were, well, quite skin-tight. But I thought if I wore them with a long T-shirt, maybe I could just use them for exercise in the condo compound.
Me: NOOOO! Nonononononononononono!
Alec: So I got into the lift in my shorts and with my skipping-rope and there were two other people in there and you know that habit Singaporeans have of talking about people in another language when you don’t want them to know you’re talking about them?
Me: Yeah.
Alec: Well it’s pretty bleeding obvious you’re talking about them when you stare them up and down blatantly and the conversation’s all in Chinese except for the word “skipping-rope”!
Me: Tee-hee. See, if you had a blog like everyone’s begging you to, you could write stuff like this down. Though I daresay your fans would probably ignore the point of multicultural etiquette you’re trying to make and instead just start chanting SPAN-DEX! SPAN-DEX!
Alec: I was wearing a really long T-shirt with them!
Alec: This is why I hated primary school.


  1. A-Lex! In Span-Dex! A-Lex! In Span-Dex! A-Lex! In Span-Dex! A-Lex! In Span-Dex! A-Lex! In Span-Dex!

  2. I have a disturbing vision of Alec in tight black spandex hammocking his Irish “big lad”, sneakers with white socks and a skipping rope in his hand…and Michelle yelling “Jaysus, you could plough drills for potatoes with that thing!”

  3. Tessa & Brian: I could chronicle my almost daily humiliations but then, Michelle is so skillful at rubbing it in. Besides, I’d flounder with the spelling of big words like ‘paedophile’ and ‘gobshiteness’.

    Kelly: I find your comment objectionable. I only ever wear black socks.

    Matt: You’ll have to do better than that. I’m fairly thick skinned by now.

    My first week in primary school was fairly chilly by Irish meteorological standards. On Wednesday, my mother produced forth a strange, stretchy pair of blue trousers.

    “What are those?”, I nervously inquired.

    “They’re called long-johns or thermal underwear. You wear them under your trousers and they keep you extra warm”

    “I don’t know, mam, the other lads”

    “THE OTHER LADS MY EYE. They’d only be delighted if their mothers would buy them long-johns. Now off with you to school”

    Lunch time three hours later and I’m in the classroom toilet having a piddle.

    “Alec. Jaysus, your socks are the same color as your underwear.”

    “Ahh no Mick. These are long-johns.”


    “You know, long-johns, thermal underwear. You wear them under your trousers and they keep you extra warm. See?”


    That toilet gave me all sorts of problems during my first year. There was only one cistern for thirty boys so the teacher made us ‘go’ three at a time. So there I was, one morning, at the ‘three o’clock’ position piddling away, minding my own business. The lad at the ‘nine o’clock’ position is bursting for a pee and in his hurrying manages to arch over the bowl and pee down the front of my trousers. I’m five years old, I’m covered in a strangers pee, I don’t know what to do and I’m near to tears. So, I run back into the class room to look for help from teacher.

    She looks me up and down and interupts by wailing.

    “Ahh. Alec, I’m ashamed of you.

    And stop trying to blame John Lillis.”

  4. Alec: D’oh! Of course you only wear black socks. You aren’t american.

    Alec: ALEC BLOG! ALEC BLOG! you know you want to. Quit blogging on your girlfriend’s blog and start your own.

  5. AWAHAHHAHA….This entry is so hilarious.

    Alec, yes, please do blog. I’ll love reading both your blog and Michelle’s to compare different versions of the same story.

    And … SPANDEX. MY GOD.

  6. Alec, you don’t know me, but I want to read your future hypothetical blog so badly, dammit! Blog! Please!

  7. Alec, as I’ve told you before, I fear that one day, you and Michelle will combine your powers and discover that you two are unstoppable.

    That having been said… please do blog.

  8. and the name of Alec’s new blog…..

    Spandex Party Boy





  9. Kelly: Whether the socks are black or white, I think you have been working too hard lately and need another holiday. “Disturbing” was an understatement…

    Dom: Haha, it’s more likely we’ll descend into a spitting, scratching mess of online oneupmanship and bitterness, and then spontaneously combust!

    To everyone in general: I’ve been encouraging Alec to start a blog ever since he moved to Singapore, but he seems to have been born without the “wasting time on the Internet” gene which is so crucial to blogging. :(

  10. Mich: Me? Working too hard? You must be joking. If you are gonna blog about your boyfriend, ex-gay porn star, in spandex and a skipping rope, ya gotta expect worse! ;p

  11. ahah, that’s hilarious. I think that’s wot my cat tiger hears too “blah blah blah Tiger! Tiger blah blah blah”.

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