It's just about time to push myself back.
Feeding the ego has never been more fun online as it never was offline. This is mostly true if your personality had the appeal of roadkill. Not that you're ugly or anything, but your charms leave much to be desired.
What makes it fun is that you don't need to be specifically goodlooking to be interesting. Give yourself a shot captured in an angle that makes things ten times cuter than they actually are, post that as your online identifier, and your all set. You learn how to Photoshop images, you become skillful in blurring out imperfections and capturing photographs with lighting that makes your complexion noticeably fairer than it actually is.
You might have stolen other people's photographs and claimed their handsome faces as your own.
You've mastered the magic of deception in your campaign for online popularity. The people in your friends list love you for it. The people in their list, in turn, find you an attractive little package with the suggestive powers of a few faked photos, and then they want you in their list.
You then develop a steady following. Your friends list grow to a hundred, two hundred, three hundred. You might have considered opening a second Friendster account to accomodate all these people who want you in their list because like you, they also believe in the transference of cool. The more people you have in your list, the more popular you appear to become, and the more friendster accounts you log into indicate the increasing appeal of your online self. Your ego is fed with every Invitation you approve of. Your satisfaction burps with every Testimonial you allow in your list.
Your happy and sweet and all that creamy goodness in your fake little world. What makes it funny is that you're successful as a super poser in a world where appearances matter more. What makes it funnier is you allowing all this deception to bloat your ego.
Blogging makes for a different kind of gratification. It is actually the kind of satisfaction certain people approve of since it acknowledges the creative self. And by creative self, I'm referring to brain output, the intellect, and nothing, not even doctored images, beats that kind of validation. Yeah, fake pictures require both skill and creativity, but the satisfaction is still on a different playing field all the same.
And what's good about it is that there's no cheating it. You're either an interesting writer, or you're not. You're either an effective writer, or you're not. You either have something to say, or you don't. People might actually care about what you're blogging for, or they don't. Your readers might return for a second helping of what you're serving, or they don't.
It's pretty much that black and white.
See, what makes blogging a whole plenty of different is that your blog becomes an outlet of your inner bastard writer. It creeps to the attention of well-meaning readers until it arrests them and makes them stop to read more. It begins to charm its way to the hearts of certain people. They begin to comment. And then they begin to comment on the rest of your posts until they've confessed to actually liking what you're writing about. They admire you as the bastard that you really are, and then you feel much better.
As a blogger, people actually browse through what you have to say.
You sigh in relief because no matter what you do, there's just no concealing stupid. And you're not hiding anything with your writing. So you sigh more. You even grin with the understanding that you never needed to fake your output. People appreciate you in the raw.
Of course, you can still go on ahead and plagiarize somebody else's writings and claim it as your own. But seriously, where's the fun in that?
That being said, you then look at your clock and find out you've been online for more than the healthy number of hours. Do something offline. Find time to masturbate.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Ow!
I'm sorry if I haven't been a visible blogger as of the late, but I am still a writer all the same. I had a lot of issues written down, and I'm still figuring out how to dispense my notes in a way that will preserve my... my... what's that word again?
This one's written in the afternoon of June 27, 2006.
I don't think I've had bad relationships in the past. What I know is that I AM bad in any relationship. I just don't make it work. Let's say the relationship is this three month fetus in the womb, and I am, for all the wrong reasons, pro-life.
Okay, so that's a bad reference. But it works.
I have this great wealth of cynicism in me, and it surfaces from time to time to work against by benefit. See, this is how it works in the real world: Pessimism is not good in a relationship. And I'm his universal poster child.
Therefore, I'm not good in a relationship.
I have all this room for doubt, and I make sure I dispense it in generous amounts. I bitch, and I've had all that practice in cold shouldering, and then I bitch more. My temper trends, and I make for the best anecdote in unfaithfulness. If infidelity was a whiny little bastard boy, let's say that three months just ain't enough to discipline the sonofabitch.
See me in the pool hall in two hours. With the way I slammed the door when he left ten minutes ago, it looks like I'll be needing a lot of therapy.
At this point, I really don't care if he comes back.
We talked later that evening, and I cooked up this fantastic song and dance about how apologetic I am for being all that blah earlier that day. Minus this little intermission number where punches were thrown and hair was pulled, we still agreed to see each other the next day. I was unharmed. He was pissed over some other dude.
This one's written in the afternoon of June 27, 2006.
I don't think I've had bad relationships in the past. What I know is that I AM bad in any relationship. I just don't make it work. Let's say the relationship is this three month fetus in the womb, and I am, for all the wrong reasons, pro-life.Okay, so that's a bad reference. But it works.
I have this great wealth of cynicism in me, and it surfaces from time to time to work against by benefit. See, this is how it works in the real world: Pessimism is not good in a relationship. And I'm his universal poster child.
Therefore, I'm not good in a relationship.
I have all this room for doubt, and I make sure I dispense it in generous amounts. I bitch, and I've had all that practice in cold shouldering, and then I bitch more. My temper trends, and I make for the best anecdote in unfaithfulness. If infidelity was a whiny little bastard boy, let's say that three months just ain't enough to discipline the sonofabitch.
See me in the pool hall in two hours. With the way I slammed the door when he left ten minutes ago, it looks like I'll be needing a lot of therapy.
At this point, I really don't care if he comes back.
We talked later that evening, and I cooked up this fantastic song and dance about how apologetic I am for being all that blah earlier that day. Minus this little intermission number where punches were thrown and hair was pulled, we still agreed to see each other the next day. I was unharmed. He was pissed over some other dude.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Kami Na
This will be the first entry that I will be writing in Tagalog. No, Ben Tumbling doesn't write in Tagalog, he writes in Retarded, so his posts don't count. Check my Bullshitting at a Glance, look for the dropdown list called The Malditang Ben Tumbling, and you'll know what I mean. But for the time being, forgive my going out of character, at least just for today, and allow me to sigh.
And I am having a hard time uploading this picture of an angel for this post. It's an angel that doubles as a grave marker, so it's not that divine to begin with.
June 12 ata yun, di ako sure sa date, di na naman importante yun eh, pero what happened was na-confirm na kami na. Magkatabi kaming nakahiga sa kama, shempre onting sweetness sa pagyakap ng braso ko sa dibdib niya, tapos tinanong ko siya kung "Ano ba talaga tayo?"
Sabi niya, "Ikaw, ano sa tingin mo, kung ano nasa isip mo, yun na sagot ko." Siempre, mahirap yung ganong sagot, nasa isip ko eh naglalaro lang kami. Dun naman nagsimula talaga yun eh, malay ko bang may mangyayari pang ganitong factor. Di naman siya love, pero it still moves in mysterious ways. Ew, jologs no? Sobrang true brown style. Sobrang ghetto. So anyway, sabi ko "Eh ikaw nga tinatanong ko eh, ano ba talaga tayo." Sabi niya, "edi mag-on tayo. Yun, mag-on tayo." Sabi ko naman, "Mag-on tayo?" Sabi niya, "Oo, mag-on tayo."
O di sige. Sabi ko sure. Pero sa loob loob ko eh "Ew, is that ka-cheapang on-on thingy still uso pa ba these days?"
Pinagmasdan ko mukha niya habang natutulog siya later that day. Oo magkatabi na naman kami, pero alam niyo, hindi ko talaga siya mahal. Ewan, di ko makuha yung feeling na mahal ko siya. Walang kurot. Para bang go signal, kailangan may ganun. Required yun eh. Pero wala eh. Promise. Sinabi ko pa sa kanya, habang natutulog siya, "Alam mo, hindi kita mahal." Harsh ba? Eh nung time na yun eh gusto kong maging malinaw yung nararamdaman ko. Aba, di ko naman akalain na magiging ganun kalinaw yun. Nasabi ko eh. Oo, tulog siya nung binulong ko yun, pero at least mabuti na yung may practice diba para pag gising siya eh buwelo na lang ang kailangan.
Pero bago nangyari itong araw na ito eh kinikilig ako habang nakikita ko siya. Totoo. Andian pa yung mga pagkakataong medio inis ako pag di siya tumatawag, tapos gusto ko palagi ko alam kung kumain na siya, kung okay siya. Alam niyo na yun. Andoon yung kiliti. Pero ngayong na-identify na kung ano talaga kami, parang tinatabangan na ako.
Mage-english lang ako sandali ha, pero very very light lang...
Siguro I was in it for the chase. Kasi nung nakuha ko na yung prize eh feeling ko there's nothing left to accomplish. Kaya nga nasabi ko sa kanya na hindi ko siya mahal. Oo, tulog siya nung sinabi ko, pero ang importante eh nasabi ko na. May practice na kumbaga. Madali nang sabihin yun pag maririnig niya at eksaktong gising siya. Eh sa ganoon talaga eh.
Na-confide ko pa nga one time sa isa kong better offline friend (BOF) kung anong
plano kong gawin. Sabi ko, "Kasi naman friendship medio matagal rin akong wala sa ganitong sirkulasyon. Sa ganitong klaseng relasyon. Hindi ako talaga completely devoted dun sa guy, kaya ang balak ko eh pag-practican ko na lang siya para performance level ako sa next relationship ko." Sabi naman ng friendship ko, "Hala ka, maka-karma ka diyan sa gagawin mong yan. Masama yan."
Ang iniisip kong karma eh pano nga kung halimbawang ma-fall ako sa kanya. Basag-trip yun diba? Imbis na pinagpa-practican ko lang siya eh naging seryoso ang mga pangyayari. Lagot na kasi siguradong mabu-blurred ako. Pero yun nga at nakapagbitaw na ko ng salita. "Hindi kita mahal."
Ang nakakatawa pa eh pinag-usapan pa namin kung anong meron ngayong kami na. Rules and regulations ba. Anlaking kalokohan diba? Hiniling ko na at least magkita kami or dapat may communication AT LEAST once a week. Hiniling ko na sana eh alagaan niya yung girlfriend niya ng husto, wala bang magbabago, siyempre mahirap nang makahalata yung kalaban. At hiniling ko rin na wag na siyang maghahanap ng iba. Ako na lang.
Sarrrap eh noh?
Siya naman, sabi niya kung puwede raw eh wag na raw ako manlalaki. Kahit one night stand eh di raw puwede kasi nga naman eh unfair yun kung siya eh di na siya naghahanap ng iba tapos ako naman eh pasaway. Sabi ko sure. Pangalawa eh kung magkakahiwalay daw kami eh sana pag-usapan namin. Wag ko raw gagawin sa kaniya yung ginawa ko sa mga nauna kong relationships. Atin atin lang ha, pero ugali ko yung ganoon eh. Nangi-iwan ako sa ere pag alam kong magkakalabuan na kami ng partner ko. Dapat daw pag-usapan namin. Agree naman ako kasi kahit papaano eh naintindihan ko na nakikinig siya sa mga kuwento ko. Pangatlo eh Say No to Drugs daw. Patawa.
Pero ngayong namang na-identify na kung ano kami, eh medio nakabuti naman siya pagdating sa, ano, sa, alam niyo na yun. Nahihiya ako eh. (Hiya). Medio comfortable na ako pag nagma-make out kami. Ewan ko, pero feeling ko eh mas ganado siya pag tinuturuan ko siyang humalik. Hanep. Tsaka mas nakakatuwang magnakaw ng halik lalo't andoon yung mga barkada niya. Dahil nga sa kami na eh entitled ako doon, ibig sabihin eh akin na yung halik na yun. Kaya go lang, pero dahil sa konting respetong factor eh medio kailangang on the sly tayo. Pero iba yung thrill ng ang alam mong ninanakaw mo eh sa iyo, diba? Kahit cheap thrill pa siya.
Kami na. Yahoo. Pero di ko siya mahal talaga. Ewan, sabi nga, que sera. Tingnan na lang natin ang mangyayari.
Oo pala, tinanong ko siya kung gaano katagal kami tatagal sa palagay niya. Gusto raw niya na tumagal kami. Sabi ko, sure.
And I am having a hard time uploading this picture of an angel for this post. It's an angel that doubles as a grave marker, so it's not that divine to begin with.
June 12 ata yun, di ako sure sa date, di na naman importante yun eh, pero what happened was na-confirm na kami na. Magkatabi kaming nakahiga sa kama, shempre onting sweetness sa pagyakap ng braso ko sa dibdib niya, tapos tinanong ko siya kung "Ano ba talaga tayo?"
Sabi niya, "Ikaw, ano sa tingin mo, kung ano nasa isip mo, yun na sagot ko." Siempre, mahirap yung ganong sagot, nasa isip ko eh naglalaro lang kami. Dun naman nagsimula talaga yun eh, malay ko bang may mangyayari pang ganitong factor. Di naman siya love, pero it still moves in mysterious ways. Ew, jologs no? Sobrang true brown style. Sobrang ghetto. So anyway, sabi ko "Eh ikaw nga tinatanong ko eh, ano ba talaga tayo." Sabi niya, "edi mag-on tayo. Yun, mag-on tayo." Sabi ko naman, "Mag-on tayo?" Sabi niya, "Oo, mag-on tayo."
O di sige. Sabi ko sure. Pero sa loob loob ko eh "Ew, is that ka-cheapang on-on thingy still uso pa ba these days?"
Pinagmasdan ko mukha niya habang natutulog siya later that day. Oo magkatabi na naman kami, pero alam niyo, hindi ko talaga siya mahal. Ewan, di ko makuha yung feeling na mahal ko siya. Walang kurot. Para bang go signal, kailangan may ganun. Required yun eh. Pero wala eh. Promise. Sinabi ko pa sa kanya, habang natutulog siya, "Alam mo, hindi kita mahal." Harsh ba? Eh nung time na yun eh gusto kong maging malinaw yung nararamdaman ko. Aba, di ko naman akalain na magiging ganun kalinaw yun. Nasabi ko eh. Oo, tulog siya nung binulong ko yun, pero at least mabuti na yung may practice diba para pag gising siya eh buwelo na lang ang kailangan.
Pero bago nangyari itong araw na ito eh kinikilig ako habang nakikita ko siya. Totoo. Andian pa yung mga pagkakataong medio inis ako pag di siya tumatawag, tapos gusto ko palagi ko alam kung kumain na siya, kung okay siya. Alam niyo na yun. Andoon yung kiliti. Pero ngayong na-identify na kung ano talaga kami, parang tinatabangan na ako.
Mage-english lang ako sandali ha, pero very very light lang...
Siguro I was in it for the chase. Kasi nung nakuha ko na yung prize eh feeling ko there's nothing left to accomplish. Kaya nga nasabi ko sa kanya na hindi ko siya mahal. Oo, tulog siya nung sinabi ko, pero ang importante eh nasabi ko na. May practice na kumbaga. Madali nang sabihin yun pag maririnig niya at eksaktong gising siya. Eh sa ganoon talaga eh.
Na-confide ko pa nga one time sa isa kong better offline friend (BOF) kung anong
plano kong gawin. Sabi ko, "Kasi naman friendship medio matagal rin akong wala sa ganitong sirkulasyon. Sa ganitong klaseng relasyon. Hindi ako talaga completely devoted dun sa guy, kaya ang balak ko eh pag-practican ko na lang siya para performance level ako sa next relationship ko." Sabi naman ng friendship ko, "Hala ka, maka-karma ka diyan sa gagawin mong yan. Masama yan."
Ang iniisip kong karma eh pano nga kung halimbawang ma-fall ako sa kanya. Basag-trip yun diba? Imbis na pinagpa-practican ko lang siya eh naging seryoso ang mga pangyayari. Lagot na kasi siguradong mabu-blurred ako. Pero yun nga at nakapagbitaw na ko ng salita. "Hindi kita mahal."
Ang nakakatawa pa eh pinag-usapan pa namin kung anong meron ngayong kami na. Rules and regulations ba. Anlaking kalokohan diba? Hiniling ko na at least magkita kami or dapat may communication AT LEAST once a week. Hiniling ko na sana eh alagaan niya yung girlfriend niya ng husto, wala bang magbabago, siyempre mahirap nang makahalata yung kalaban. At hiniling ko rin na wag na siyang maghahanap ng iba. Ako na lang.
Sarrrap eh noh?
Siya naman, sabi niya kung puwede raw eh wag na raw ako manlalaki. Kahit one night stand eh di raw puwede kasi nga naman eh unfair yun kung siya eh di na siya naghahanap ng iba tapos ako naman eh pasaway. Sabi ko sure. Pangalawa eh kung magkakahiwalay daw kami eh sana pag-usapan namin. Wag ko raw gagawin sa kaniya yung ginawa ko sa mga nauna kong relationships. Atin atin lang ha, pero ugali ko yung ganoon eh. Nangi-iwan ako sa ere pag alam kong magkakalabuan na kami ng partner ko. Dapat daw pag-usapan namin. Agree naman ako kasi kahit papaano eh naintindihan ko na nakikinig siya sa mga kuwento ko. Pangatlo eh Say No to Drugs daw. Patawa.
Pero ngayong namang na-identify na kung ano kami, eh medio nakabuti naman siya pagdating sa, ano, sa, alam niyo na yun. Nahihiya ako eh. (Hiya). Medio comfortable na ako pag nagma-make out kami. Ewan ko, pero feeling ko eh mas ganado siya pag tinuturuan ko siyang humalik. Hanep. Tsaka mas nakakatuwang magnakaw ng halik lalo't andoon yung mga barkada niya. Dahil nga sa kami na eh entitled ako doon, ibig sabihin eh akin na yung halik na yun. Kaya go lang, pero dahil sa konting respetong factor eh medio kailangang on the sly tayo. Pero iba yung thrill ng ang alam mong ninanakaw mo eh sa iyo, diba? Kahit cheap thrill pa siya.
Kami na. Yahoo. Pero di ko siya mahal talaga. Ewan, sabi nga, que sera. Tingnan na lang natin ang mangyayari.
Oo pala, tinanong ko siya kung gaano katagal kami tatagal sa palagay niya. Gusto raw niya na tumagal kami. Sabi ko, sure.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
19 Hours With the FuBu
I wanted to get to know he-who-is-trying-to-father-my-firstborn well, so what we did was we locked ourselves up in my room for 17 hours. We did, uhm, things you don't do with your friends. And we talked more for the other two hours.
I mean, there's nothing wrong in talking with "the buddy," right? We've been doing the kinky for this number of weeks now, and I think it's just about freaking time. And yeah, this could be one of the more personal issues that I'll be posting.
6AM to 4PM: We slept. We were drinking beer before that, and he was already asleep an hour before we locked ourselves up. Breakfast was coffee and buns followed by a healthy serving of cigarettes, and then we called it a day and started the marathon. He was out cold as soon as he hit the sack while I managed to push in some extra time on the PS2.
I was able to sleep for maybe seven hours, give and or take a minute. I was either busy studying his face, or bitching about how the dude was hogging all of the ventilation.
4PM to 430 PM: I woke up to his hand holding mine. He asked for a glass of water. We had a few cigarettes. We were drenched in sweat and a whole plenty of mounting horniness. We talked about the mutuality of this, uhm, association and discussed the shelf life of our little buddy system.
We decided to see more of each other. Not that we haven't seen most of each other already.
430PM to 6PM: We both made love to the PS2.
6PM to 930PM: We had dinner in bed. We then smoked some more, turned off the lights, lit one mother of a scented candle, and listened to a lot of Freddie Mercury and the Backstreet Boys. He wanted to hear something "sentimental;" the heat of the moment inspired Larger Than Life without even pausing.
We then talked about the first time. And then the second time. I interrupted the train of thought by introducing house rules if we were to let this buddying survive. It's supposed to be, and it IS going to be, strictly exclusive. Third partying will pretty much destroy this partnership. Yeah, you can't always be too sure, and at this point after more than three weeks of seeing each other, I might be having a thing for this dude already.
Underscore might. Or italicize. Or put it in flaming bold letters, but for the love of good sex, don't slash it out. That's important.
And then we, uhm, snuggled and talked about kissing. He then thought about doing some roleplay. He wanted to act asleep, I was supposed to steal a kiss, and then he'd kiss back. It was pretty okay, but I wanted to pep things up and do a little scripting and rape the moment with a little movie-making drama. Some of the scripts included "Akin ka lang," "Huwag ka nang papalag," and "Ang alat mo!"
Talk about anti-climactic. Not that I'm hellraising for personal hygiene; understand that we've been in the same room for more than twelve hours now. So there.
He was altogether hilarious with his segues, but it didn't exactly kill the moment since we had a total of 21 takes total. Yeah, "takes," as in "Lights, Camera, Apoy sa Kuko ng Samar, Take 1."
Kissing is nice on sufficiently soft lips. It's nicer with 21 tries, er, takes.
930PM to 1030PM: We turned the lights back on, and I kicked his ass in another hour of PS2.
1030PM to 1230AM: We were so much in need of fresh fresh air, so we decided to abandon the confinement and we went down to smoke. We talked. Yeah, talked, as in the verb "talk" in its past tense. Yeah, talk, as in "communicate." We shared stories and compared problems and all that good jazz, went inside to do a little more talking, and we had dinner.
I learned that you can share actual sentences with the "buddy" and not just limit the conversation to prolonged vowel sounds.
Then I found out that I need to be somewhere by 130AM, so we took a bath. Yeah, "we," as in there was more than one person who took a bath.
We parted ways at somewhere past one that same morning. And unless I begin to forget what he looks like, I will be seeing him again.
2 Days After
Momel starts his personal counselling and contemplates two-timing:
Momel to Self: Come to think of it, I DO tend to forget his face from time to time, but I still remember the kiss. I know I'm smiling as I'm thinking about going out and start looking for the better kisser. And I'm thinking about doing that right now.
3 Days After
In a chat conversation with one of my better offline friends (BOF):
[06:01] BOF: nd wag mo cia kakahiya,once n pinasok mo n yan
[06:01] BOF: tulungan mo n lan
[06:01] BOF: n magbago
I don't want to stay put. I'm sure there is someone better. For now, I have someone to practice with.
I know I haven't introduced any form of history about the guy. I wouldn't. But this string of events consummates one "buddy system" that has been going on for a certain amount of time. Feel free to ask. You know I love hearing from you people.
7 Days After
I started downloading Utada Hikaru's "First Love" because of this line:
I'll remember to love you taught me how
Seriously! You grew up believing that a FuBu is good for one thing and for one thing alone. And then something happens which completely slaps your bible, leaves you thinking, and then makes you wonder "What if?"
First Love is this Japanese song with some English verses in the chorus. I tried, but I wasn't able to memorize the damn song in its Japanese goodness. I believed that this sort of memorization would be a breeze, what with my resonating success with the Voltes V theme, but it turns out that I wasn't really cut out for this sort of thing.
I mean, there's nothing wrong in talking with "the buddy," right? We've been doing the kinky for this number of weeks now, and I think it's just about freaking time. And yeah, this could be one of the more personal issues that I'll be posting.
6AM to 4PM: We slept. We were drinking beer before that, and he was already asleep an hour before we locked ourselves up. Breakfast was coffee and buns followed by a healthy serving of cigarettes, and then we called it a day and started the marathon. He was out cold as soon as he hit the sack while I managed to push in some extra time on the PS2.
I was able to sleep for maybe seven hours, give and or take a minute. I was either busy studying his face, or bitching about how the dude was hogging all of the ventilation.
4PM to 430 PM: I woke up to his hand holding mine. He asked for a glass of water. We had a few cigarettes. We were drenched in sweat and a whole plenty of mounting horniness. We talked about the mutuality of this, uhm, association and discussed the shelf life of our little buddy system.
We decided to see more of each other. Not that we haven't seen most of each other already.
430PM to 6PM: We both made love to the PS2.
6PM to 930PM: We had dinner in bed. We then smoked some more, turned off the lights, lit one mother of a scented candle, and listened to a lot of Freddie Mercury and the Backstreet Boys. He wanted to hear something "sentimental;" the heat of the moment inspired Larger Than Life without even pausing.
We then talked about the first time. And then the second time. I interrupted the train of thought by introducing house rules if we were to let this buddying survive. It's supposed to be, and it IS going to be, strictly exclusive. Third partying will pretty much destroy this partnership. Yeah, you can't always be too sure, and at this point after more than three weeks of seeing each other, I might be having a thing for this dude already.
Underscore might. Or italicize. Or put it in flaming bold letters, but for the love of good sex, don't slash it out. That's important.
And then we, uhm, snuggled and talked about kissing. He then thought about doing some roleplay. He wanted to act asleep, I was supposed to steal a kiss, and then he'd kiss back. It was pretty okay, but I wanted to pep things up and do a little scripting and rape the moment with a little movie-making drama. Some of the scripts included "Akin ka lang," "Huwag ka nang papalag," and "Ang alat mo!"
Talk about anti-climactic. Not that I'm hellraising for personal hygiene; understand that we've been in the same room for more than twelve hours now. So there.
He was altogether hilarious with his segues, but it didn't exactly kill the moment since we had a total of 21 takes total. Yeah, "takes," as in "Lights, Camera, Apoy sa Kuko ng Samar, Take 1."
Kissing is nice on sufficiently soft lips. It's nicer with 21 tries, er, takes.
930PM to 1030PM: We turned the lights back on, and I kicked his ass in another hour of PS2.
1030PM to 1230AM: We were so much in need of fresh fresh air, so we decided to abandon the confinement and we went down to smoke. We talked. Yeah, talked, as in the verb "talk" in its past tense. Yeah, talk, as in "communicate." We shared stories and compared problems and all that good jazz, went inside to do a little more talking, and we had dinner.
I learned that you can share actual sentences with the "buddy" and not just limit the conversation to prolonged vowel sounds.
Then I found out that I need to be somewhere by 130AM, so we took a bath. Yeah, "we," as in there was more than one person who took a bath.
We parted ways at somewhere past one that same morning. And unless I begin to forget what he looks like, I will be seeing him again.
2 Days After
Momel starts his personal counselling and contemplates two-timing:
Momel to Self: Come to think of it, I DO tend to forget his face from time to time, but I still remember the kiss. I know I'm smiling as I'm thinking about going out and start looking for the better kisser. And I'm thinking about doing that right now.
3 Days After
In a chat conversation with one of my better offline friends (BOF):
[06:01] BOF: nd wag mo cia kakahiya,once n pinasok mo n yan
[06:01] BOF: tulungan mo n lan
[06:01] BOF: n magbago
I don't want to stay put. I'm sure there is someone better. For now, I have someone to practice with.
I know I haven't introduced any form of history about the guy. I wouldn't. But this string of events consummates one "buddy system" that has been going on for a certain amount of time. Feel free to ask. You know I love hearing from you people.
7 Days After
I started downloading Utada Hikaru's "First Love" because of this line:
I'll remember to love you taught me how
Seriously! You grew up believing that a FuBu is good for one thing and for one thing alone. And then something happens which completely slaps your bible, leaves you thinking, and then makes you wonder "What if?"
First Love is this Japanese song with some English verses in the chorus. I tried, but I wasn't able to memorize the damn song in its Japanese goodness. I believed that this sort of memorization would be a breeze, what with my resonating success with the Voltes V theme, but it turns out that I wasn't really cut out for this sort of thing.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Blog Soup #5: Fuck Buddies, Blog Rule #11, Strawberry Syrup, and the Good News About Blowjobs
Kids, today's soup is served with a healthy serving of bitterness.
I've always been the third party in the last few, uhm, flings I've participated in. I strongly recommend against calling them relationships because, first, fuck buddies don't exactly qualify as lovers. And second, home breaking has never been powerfully inclined to be a God fearing habit. So there.
It's been that way in these last two years. Yup, two relationships in three years. It's either I'm a very loyal lover, or I take a long time to recuperate since I bleed well and all that. I'm thinking it's more of the... nah, it's going to be a mighty bitter soup. But I'll tell you this much, my songs back then were rotating either on Stevie Wonder's Part Time Lover or Juice Newton's Angel of the Morning.
And yeah, cheating on your fuck buddy doesn't necessarily mean infidelity. It doesn't qualify as a relationship in the first place anyway.
I almost forgot to mention this in my Blog Rules, it was more like I did, but Rule #11 goes like: Never blog about your work specifics. Or at least never bitch against management in your blog. There was this guy who worked for Google. And he got fired because of his blog.
This is the story.
And this is what happened.
You don't want to lose your bread and butter over some blog, right? And then there's the story, more like a blog post, of this one Microsoft employee who took pictures of Mac computers being delivered to his office. Imagine that. You remember Britney Spears back when she was still a spokesperson for Pepsi and got fired for drinking Coke? It's the same drill. No, no, no, I said drinking Coke. Not snorting coke. That's Kate Moss. Well anyway, this Microsoft guy got fired for it.
The Microsoft Guy
Britney Spears and Coca Cola
Kate Moss and coke
And with kinky sex, yes, strawberry syrup goes a long way. Yeah, and the punchlines, oh all those punchlines you can manufacture when you've nothing on but strawberry syrup and spit. Har, I'm telling you, I don't usually kiss and tell, or make out and tell, or do the kinky and tell, but there was this one time. No, I don't feel squeamish. I feel funny, real funny as I'm recalling that one line when I cracked up something and totally ruined the freaky of that sweet moment. I'm actually grinning as I'm writing this. And I'm not going to tell. I just want to, uhm, be real kinky and put ideas in your head.
To spit, or not to spit? That is the question. Ladies and gentlemen and ball sniffers all, here's another testimonial to the things you learn everyday. They might not exactly be useful, but then again:
And then I learned the other day that it's not mighty advisable to swallow since sperm tends to stick to the throat and cause problems. Do you remember those expectorant commercials with the balled out chewing gum (phlegm) sticking to this glass container (the lungs)? Yeah, but this time, think of the gum as the, you know, the man juice and the glass container as the throat. And they're not making anything yet to dissolve that.
I've always been the third party in the last few, uhm, flings I've participated in. I strongly recommend against calling them relationships because, first, fuck buddies don't exactly qualify as lovers. And second, home breaking has never been powerfully inclined to be a God fearing habit. So there.It's been that way in these last two years. Yup, two relationships in three years. It's either I'm a very loyal lover, or I take a long time to recuperate since I bleed well and all that. I'm thinking it's more of the... nah, it's going to be a mighty bitter soup. But I'll tell you this much, my songs back then were rotating either on Stevie Wonder's Part Time Lover or Juice Newton's Angel of the Morning.
And yeah, cheating on your fuck buddy doesn't necessarily mean infidelity. It doesn't qualify as a relationship in the first place anyway.
I almost forgot to mention this in my Blog Rules, it was more like I did, but Rule #11 goes like: Never blog about your work specifics. Or at least never bitch against management in your blog. There was this guy who worked for Google. And he got fired because of his blog.
This is the story.
And this is what happened.
You don't want to lose your bread and butter over some blog, right? And then there's the story, more like a blog post, of this one Microsoft employee who took pictures of Mac computers being delivered to his office. Imagine that. You remember Britney Spears back when she was still a spokesperson for Pepsi and got fired for drinking Coke? It's the same drill. No, no, no, I said drinking Coke. Not snorting coke. That's Kate Moss. Well anyway, this Microsoft guy got fired for it.
The Microsoft Guy
Britney Spears and Coca Cola
Kate Moss and coke
And with kinky sex, yes, strawberry syrup goes a long way. Yeah, and the punchlines, oh all those punchlines you can manufacture when you've nothing on but strawberry syrup and spit. Har, I'm telling you, I don't usually kiss and tell, or make out and tell, or do the kinky and tell, but there was this one time. No, I don't feel squeamish. I feel funny, real funny as I'm recalling that one line when I cracked up something and totally ruined the freaky of that sweet moment. I'm actually grinning as I'm writing this. And I'm not going to tell. I just want to, uhm, be real kinky and put ideas in your head.
To spit, or not to spit? That is the question. Ladies and gentlemen and ball sniffers all, here's another testimonial to the things you learn everyday. They might not exactly be useful, but then again:
And then I learned the other day that it's not mighty advisable to swallow since sperm tends to stick to the throat and cause problems. Do you remember those expectorant commercials with the balled out chewing gum (phlegm) sticking to this glass container (the lungs)? Yeah, but this time, think of the gum as the, you know, the man juice and the glass container as the throat. And they're not making anything yet to dissolve that.
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